#“you just learn how to enjoy it” yeah :(

[weiszklee]

Sure, I can get behind constituting imperialism as a baseline upon which other analysis is built. What is the analysis? I don't see it. I mean, maybe it's in the post those tags up there are from, I don't know. The one thing I see above that kind of has the shape of a valuable insight is this:

It kinda reveals a tendency for global north people to just take the ways in which their society has benefitted from colonialism and imperialism for granted.

And I just don't think it follows. Or rather, it's just part of a bigger patern: People tend to take everything about their modern lifestyle for granted. True. But I don't need to look at fantasy books to realise this. It is not a secret to anyone talking to other people on a regular basis. Now, literature could work as an antidote to that, sure, but I don't think it's fair to demand that it do so:

And yeah, some fantasy authors don't give a damn about how anything in their world works. Frankly, I don't consider them very good authors in general.

Like, we will have to agree to disagree on that one. There are loads of different reasons to read and enjoy fiction. Learning about the real world can be one of them, but it is not a requirement. An author who fails to teach me about the real world is not doing a bad job, they just have other priorities. I usually learn about the real world from non-fiction anyway.

My bludgeon comment maybe went a bit far, but you are misconstruing it, which is funny since you are accusing me of being the one who is not reading properly: It is because imperialism can be detected everywhere that not much insight is gained by detecting it somewhere specific. Pointing out the imperialism of something becomes a bludgeon when it is selectively employed against the things already disliked for other reasons. I do admit though that I do not know whether that is what was happening in this discussion, so I apologise.

👀

[noonecareslol]

࣪˖ ִ ೀ 𝐀 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

Hwang In-ho x Fem! Reader

Summary: When the games aren’t in session, and In-ho is lonely, he finds himself in the first row at the ballet. Watching you. Suddenly he's falling in love.

TW: Channeling my love for older men. Injury. Reader lowkey gets sad for a sec. Age gap (reader is 25 In-ho is 49). Just FLUFF! In-ho learning how to love someone again. Quite literally head over heels for you. Allusions to masturbation. Size kink if you squint.

WC! 5k

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It is quite obvious that In-ho is an old soul.

He enjoys old films, old clothing, old theatre, and old music. The little jazz set that plays, “Fly Me To The Moon” is a cherished possession of his, along with his vintage whiskey decanter.

He wears a musky cologne he’d been gifted by his late wife, and his closet is lined with leather dress shoes and perfectly pressed slacks. His dimly lit room on the island is vastly similar to the one in his Seoul apartment, everything perfectly neat and clean.

Yes, In-ho is an old soul.

And in between the games, when he would return to Seoul, he’d find himself bored. Especially during the night. He’d miss his wife, the whispered hope of a promised future.

Often he would distract himself by putting his whiskey decanter to good use, pouring the aged whiskey into his glass over and over again. He would linger by his shelf full of movies he’d seen hundreds of times, tracing his fingers along the cases until he landed on a title. A small smile would play on his lips before popping it into the DVD player and taking a seat next to his beloved cat.

He would find himself mumbling the lines as the actors spoke them on screen, his hand absentmindedly petting his cat. When the movie is over, and the quiet resumes, he’d move to his bedroom.

He’d ensure his cat followed before changing into his expensive pajamas and climbing into the king-sized bed. His cat would join him and he would drift to sleep, dreaming of, well, nothing.

He would close his eyes and wake up without any dream having occupied his mind.

This routine became comfortable. Each night he would get home from whatever he’d been doing before, drink, watch a movie, play with his cat, and sleep without any dreams.

But this night, this night was different.

It was a cold night. And all In-ho wanted to do was drown in glasses of whiskey and watch “Dial ‘M’ For Murder” with his cat.

But as he walked past a line of people waiting to enter a theatre, a poster caught his attention. He blinked once, twice, before walking toward the lit-up frame.

A strikingly beautiful ballerina caught his attention first. She held her arms elegantly above her head, her leg pointed behind her, her other leg resting on pointe as she looked to the side. She was breathtaking.

The Seoul Ballet Company Presents: Swan Lake

Opening Night November 1st

Suddenly the thought of whiskey and Alfred Hitchcock left his mind as he joined the line. I mean, who would miss out on opening night?

Especially when the lead was so pretty.

“We have one ticket left in the front row.” The woman behind the ticket booth clicked her pen unenthusiastically as she watched In-ho pull his leather vintage wallet out of his coat pocket.

A grin rested plainly on his lips as he fiddled with his cash, “That’s perfect. How much?”

The woman slowly turned and punched a few numbers into her register before turning back to him, “80,000 won.” She clicked her pen again.

“Do you have change for 100,000?” He held the two 50,000 won in front of him, watching as she stared at him blankly.

She blinked once before snatching the bills from his hands, “Nope!” In-ho sighed. For someone so slow she took those bills awfully fast.

In-ho drew his lips into a thin line before taking the ticket and placing it in his wallet, “Thanks.”

“Yeah enjoy the show or, like, whatever.” The woman took out her phone and began to text as he walked away, obviously not giving a shit about her job.

But as In-ho walked through the double doors, his breath caught in his throat. The theatre certainly did not disappoint his love for old architecture.

The large barrel vaulted ceilings were beautifully ornamented and adorned with intricately painted designs. Gorgeous crown molding edged the ceiling and stretched to the floor. And a large crystal chandelier rested as the centerpiece, warmly lit and inviting.

In-ho took his seat, a smile evident on his lips as he sighed contently. However, he hoped his cat wasn’t too worried about his whereabouts. Maybe she could come along next time? She is a very sophisticated cat, after all.

As the chandelier and house lights began to dim, the crowd became quiet with anticipation and excitement. And it would be dishonest to say that In-ho wasn’t a little excited as well.

He looked to his left at the woman sitting next to him. She was a small elderly lady with a pair of glasses perched on the tip of her nose. Her eyes were filled with excitement as she scanned through the pamphlet, a wide smile plastered on her face.

She wore a vintage necklace around her neck, layered with pearls. In-ho smiled, it was nice to see someone who also had a knack for old taste.

The soft notes of Swan Lake began to play, and In-ho watched as the curtains opened, revealing the beautifully decorated stage. Large trees with hanging vines arched over the set, greenery and flowers blending into the painted backdrop.

A foggy mist flooded the stage as dancers began to move elegantly across. But the lead had yet to make an appearance.

In-ho watched rather impatiently, and failed to notice the woman next to him lean in, “Right now, the prince is going hunting with his crossbow. But he will find that the white swan has turned into a beautiful woman, and has fallen under a curse.” The old woman pointed slightly to the prince, her voice whispering just loud enough for him to hear.

His eyes trained on the prince as he danced with his crossbow, “Thank you. I must look confused.”

The old lady gave a small laugh, “I used to dance for this company, i’ll never miss an opportunity to explain the ballet.”

In-ho watches as she subtly mimics the prince's moves, her hands moving elegantly in front of her. Her eyes were closed, the sound of the music bringing emotion to her face.

Her eyes flick open as the music changes softly, “Look.” Her eyes lighting up as she nods slightly to the stage.

In-ho watches as you finally take the stage, fluttering your feet as you move elegantly toward the prince. Your hands held high above your head, moving gracefully as you bourrée.

He watched as your back muscles contracted, moving as if you had wings. His eyes trained down to your legs and to your pointe shoes, watching as you danced with ease.

Your white feathered skirt moved along with you, the bodice elegantly framing you perfectly. The feathered piece in your hair catches In-ho’s attention, causing him to study your face.

That poster was nothing compared to your beauty.

You held a soft look, but In-ho didn’t fail to notice the focus that caused your eyebrows to furrow slightly. Your movements were soft and graceful, your demeanor innocent and melancholic.

You were perfect as the white swan.

You were perfect.

He wondered if you were just as innocent as you portray yourself to be, “God, she’s beautiful.”

The elderly woman hummed in agreement as she watched In-ho’s gaze remain sharp on the white swan, an all-knowing smile spread across her lips.

As the ballet continued it seemed that the rest of the audience had disappeared. In-ho felt as if you were only dancing for him. No one else.

He swore you looked at him a few times, him being the focus point of your graceful turns.

And when you transitioned into the black swan, all thoughts in In-ho’s head became dark.

Oh, how he liked this side of you.

Your movements were sharp, determined, and seductive. And he found himself adjusting in his seat as his slacks became increasingly tight. You were so close to him. Just a few feet from his touch as you danced on stage. He could take you right now. He could fuck you, make you feel things you’ve never felt before.

And as you leaped on the stage, the white swan jumping to her death, In-ho felt a tear slip from his eye. You were magnificent.

The audience filed out of the theatre, fanning themselves with their pamphlets and discussing the ballet. You had received a standing ovation, and In-ho took pride in being the first one to stand and clap.

He had finally caught your attention. And when you locked eyes with him as you bowed, you felt your brain turn to mush.

He was handsome. Like, extremely handsome.

His face was perfectly chiseled. His eyes crinkled as he flashed a perfect smile, his hair slightly falling in front of his face and covering his dark eyes.

You didn’t blink once as you remained under his gaze, and it wasn’t until another dancer pulled you up that you realized you were bowing for far too long.

You avoided his eye contact as you walked off, embarrassed he had made you turn into putty just by his stare.

And as In-ho exited the theatre, he took his time lingering by the lamp post. He’d secretly hoped to see you leave.

He doesn’t know what he would say if he did see you. Maybe he would compliment you, or ask you a meaningless question. Or maybe, just maybe, he’d push you against the lamppost, and let his desire consume you.

He’d just wait a little bit longer.

10 minutes.

15 minutes.

30 minutes.

The woman from behind the ticket booth locked the door as she brought down the metal gate, “Excuse me, did the woman who danced as the white swan leave yet?”

She turned around smacking her gum, “Yeah. Why?” She sized him up, placing a hand on her hip as she cocked an eyebrow.

In-ho felt his face flush, “I was just going to compliment her.” He put his cold hands in the pockets of his coat, shifting his weight onto his other foot.

“Yeah well,” The woman smacks her gum as she walks up towards In-ho, handing him a flier, “They have open practice every Friday. Tickets are only 10,000 won.”

He took the flier from her hand, folding it and sliding it into his pocket, “Thanks.” She nodded her head and walked past him, slipping into her jacket.

In-ho turned and started his walk to his apartment only a block away. When he arrived, he heard the familiar sound of meowing by his front door.

And as he opened the door, he came face to face with his cat waiting on the couch, “I’m sorry Elisabeth, but I’m too tired for a movie tonight.”

She gave an annoyed meow before reluctantly following him into his room, hopping onto the pillow beside his. In-ho got dressed in his pajamas, ready for another dreamless night as he slipped into the sheets next to Elisabeth.

But this time, it wasn't dreamless.

In fact, he had dreamed a very vivid dream.

He had dreamt of you.

And as In-ho woke up the next morning, his hand immediately went to his nightstand, picking up the flier.

It seems that the pretty ballerina has stolen his heart.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

"Plié! Ron de jambe, retiré! Good!" You held your arms in front of you, your right leg coming up at a bend, "Pas de chat, écarté! Don't rush it, Fiona!"

Your ballet teacher weaved between you and the other students, her tight bun sitting perfectly on her pointed head, "Développé, demi-pointe! No! Not pointe, demi pointe!"

Her thick French accent bellowed throughout the theatre, "Good y/n! Très bien!" A wide smile painted your lips as you continued your dance, your friend Fiona rolling her eyes at your praise. You giggled as you went into second, your arms outstretched to the side.

"Well done! Take a water break and stretch, we'll take five." You brought your hands to your knees, leaning over slightly as you caught your breath.

Fiona dramatically flopped on her back, a hand coming to her forehead as she breathed heavily, "I've died, she's killed me." You tossed her water bottle into her hand with a laugh as you sat next to her, your eyes scanning the theatre.

Familiar faces met your eyes. Elderly couples, former dancers, and little kids with their moms. Oh! And the man who you haven't stopped thinking about.

Wait.

You hit Fiona's shoulder hard, not taking your eyes off him, "Fiona. Fiona, look." She sat up, holding her shoulder as her eyes trailed to where you were subtly pointing.

"Oh, it's the hot dilf." Fiona took a drink from her bottle, watching as In-ho looked around while taking in the architecture.

You slapped her shoulder again, "Shut up! What if he hears you?" You get up from the ground, pulling Fiona up with you and tossing your water bottle back into your bag.

She followed suit, taking one last drink before tossing it in her own, "First off, stop hitting me. It's abuse." You rolled your eyes as you both took your spot by the barre, "Second, he's in the back corner of the theatre, he's not hearing shit. Except for our teacher's constant yelling."

You didn't respond, instead, you continued looking at him. His black turtle neck sweater hugged his biceps perfectly, and you didn't fail to notice his empty finger where a ring would sit.

"Okay! Lets continue! Tendu, plié! Ron de jambe, plié!"

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It had been two months since In-ho first started spending his Fridays pining over you.

Each Friday, he would come home, change into an outfit he had dry-cleaned and pressed, feed Elisabeth, and head to the Theatre. He would take his spot in the far left corner, and watch as you danced and laughed with your friends.

He found himself looking forward to Fridays. Which is strange, because he's never looked forward to anything before. Well, besides the games. But he had been so focused on you, that he had fallen behind on his work. Something he'd never done before.

You plagued his mind.

He dreams of you. When he's asleep and awake. He'd find himself walking by the Theatre on other days when you were practicing, hoping to see a glimpse of you.

He found himself listening to Etta James and Nat King Cole more often than not. 'A Sunday Kind Of Love' and 'Unforgettable' filing his apartment as he cooked his dinners. 'My Fair Lady' and 'Gone With The Wind' replacing his classic mystery movies.

He even found himself stopping by flower boutiques, smelling the tulips and Orchids. He wonders what your favorite flower is. Perhaps it is Lilies, the flower that represents innocence and purity.

He wondered a lot if you were a virgin. Often imagining the feeling of your body under his large one late at night when he can't sleep, and when his hand finds itself under his pants.

You had him wrapped around your pretty little finger and you didn't even know it.

Vice Versa, you found yourself looking forward to Fridays as well.

It was the only day you could see the stranger who you had been thinking about constantly.

You liked his style, the way he carried himself with a confidence that intimidated you. His large frame towered over everyone, and he stood out from the crowd. He was perfect. It was as if god himself sculpted him with his own hands.

And oh my god.

You were down bad.

Fiona constantly teased you about it. Making fun of how you stopped wearing your loose cover-up, "Im just hot, that's all Fiona. It's warm in here." You lied. And Fiona was obviously aware of that.

You started offering to stay late with your teacher and help clean up, hoping to catch the stranger before he left. But your teacher always insisted you should go home and rest, and who were you to disobey her.

You've always been perfect. At school, at dance, at everything. When auditions came for Swan Lake, there was no question in anyone's mind about who would get the lead.

But since opening night, things have been slightly different. You often got distracted during practice, your eyes always finding the man in the back corner. You started falling out of your turns, forgetting to bring your pointe shoes, and, worse of all, you had been forgetting to point your toes.

And here you were. Walking to the center of the stage, ready to run through your variation in front of everyone. It was an easy variation, but the end was complicated. You had to do several pirouettes, which you have always been good at. But today you decided to test yourself.

You knew your teacher was becoming increasingly disappointed in you, it plagued your every thought. So, as you spun perfectly, you decided to see how many pirouettes you could perform.

17, 18, 19, 20.

Your leg is wobbling, but you choose to ignore it.

21, 22, 23-

You hear Fiona call your name as your foot slips out of pointe, twisting as you fall on top of it, "Oh my god!" The sickening sound of your ankle cracking causes your heart to drop. The stinging feeling of tears replaced by the overwhelming pain that was now shooting up your leg.

Everyone huddles around you as the teacher runs to call an ambulance, but Fiona kneels at your side, "I know this isn't the right time but, the dilf is running over here right now."

You close your eyes, trying to control your rapid breathing. You wished the stage would open around you and swallow you whole, just put you out of your misery.

In-ho jumps with ease onto the stage, his sweater sleeves rolled up to his elbow, "Move." He pushes past the dancers huddling over you and grabs your face.

Your eyes flick open at the feeling of warm hands pressed against your cheeks. Oh my god, he was holding your face. Your heart fluttered but you didn't notice, you were too worried about the fact that your ankle was bent the wrong way.

In-ho's hand softly brushes over your ankle, causing you to wince. At first, he's skeptical about touching you. Was it too fast? Too sudden? Too bold?

But he didn't have time to think it over as he put his strong arms under you, lifting you gently as he stood. Fiona watched with a smirk on her face as she saw shock fill your eyes, his biceps flexing as he pulled you close to his chest.

Without a word, In-ho steps down from the stage and carries you through the exit, "I have an ambulance coming!" Your teacher ran after him yelling, her typically neat bun somewhat loose and frizzy now.

In-ho motions to his pocket and Fiona responds, grabbing his car key and unlocking his Mercedez-benz, "It will take too long. I'll drive her."

For a split second, you catch his eye, and you could've sworn to god your pain disappeared for a moment. And if it were a different circumstance, In-ho would kiss you. He would kiss you right here with you in his arms.

But the shared look was short-lived as he very carefully sets you in the passenger seat, buckling your seatbelt gently. Your ballet teacher leans down to the window, "Don't worry! Fiona can dance for you!"

Your heart shattered.

And tears began to flood. You ignored In-ho's words of reassurance as he took off, speeding to the hospital. The drive was quiet except for your soft cries. And In-ho wanted nothing more than to cradle you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

"Im sorry im getting your car dirty." You looked at the tear-stained headrest you laid against, wiping your sore eyes with the back of your hand.

In-ho cuts a car off as he turns, ignoring the beeps from the angry driver, "It's okay. I have another one." The subtle money brag wasn't missed by you. In-ho just wanted to impress you.

"What are you? Like a CEO or something?" You turned to face him, giving a pitiful sniffle as he gave another sharp turn.

He chuckled, and you felt your heart beat faster. Was it because of the adrenaline? Or was it because the man whom you've become obsessed with is quite literally acting like your night in shining armor, "Im... Im a game show host."

You nodded, an impressive smile growing on your face, "That's cool. Im y/n by the way."

He flashes a smile, the same smile from the night you first saw him, and a blush creeps up on your tear-stained cheeks, "You're sitting there, with a fucked up ankle, and you're making small talk?"

You suddenly feel embarrassed. He's just some random guy who happened to be in the right place at the right time, nothing more. "Sorry. Just trying to distract myself."

In-ho frowns. Did he say the wrong thing? His grip tightens on the steering wheel, "No! Don't be sorry. If I'm being honest, I've been dying to know your name."

His eyes flick to you before looking back in front of him, "Im Hwang In-ho." A small smile creeps onto his lips as he pulls to a stop in front of the ER.

"Well, Mr. Hwang, it's nice to meet you."

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

"Well, it looks like you have a fracture." You give a long exasperated sigh as the Doctor holds up the X-rays, "The fibula is fractured below the level of the syndesmosis, which is the joint between the tibia and fibula."

You look at In-ho, who, for some reason, seems more stressed than you do, "What's the healing process like? Will she need surgery?" Your head snapped to the doctor at the mention of surgery. Surgery for dancers is like a death sentence.

No. More. Dancing.

"Fractures like these are considered stable, meaning that they are unlikely to worsen with correct treatment and management. You'll just need to wear a boot for a while." The doctor noticed how your concerned look didn't falter, and gave a sigh before placing a hand on your shoulder, "You can still dance."

The breath you were holding escapes your lips as you feel a heavy weight fall off your shoulders, "Thank you so much." The doctor rubs your shoulder before leaving, instructing the nurse to fit you for a boot.

In-ho watches as you close your eyes, a smile resting on your face. He cocked his head, how could you be so beautiful in a moment like this? His eyes take a minute to trail down your body, taking you in, something he's grown fond of doing.

Your hair is a mess, your cheeks are red and tear-stained, your ankle looks like a snapped twig, and you're picking at your cuticles. But god.

You are perfect.

Just as beautiful now as you were months ago.

An unfamiliar feeling has taken over his chest ever since he saw you. A tightening, warm feeling that he hasn't felt in years. At first, he ignored it. Maybe it was just heartburn? But as it progressed, he got worried. The next thing you know a doctor is laughing in his face.

Calling it 'love'.

In-ho immediately left after he heard that, making sure to write a very passive-aggressive review on Yelp. What doctor diagnosed a patient with 'being in love'?

In-ho was not in love.

...

...

Right?

It wasn't until he watched 'Funny Face' that he realized the estranged doctor was correct. The moment Fred Astaire saw Aubrey Hepburn and was immediately captivated by her beauty, he knew it was true.

He didn't care that he was more than twenty years older than you, or that he had bigger things to worry about, all he cared about was you.

And that made him so confused.

You had managed to captivate his heart, soul, and body. And he felt like a teenager with his first crush all over again. So as he saw you look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, he couldn't help what happened next.

He stood from his chair, taking large steps towards your frame. You furrowed your eyebrows as you watched him stand between your legs, careful not to hit your ankle.

His big hands reach down and grab your face, slamming your lips into his own. Your eyes grow wide, confusion flashing across your face before slowly giving in, pulling his head down lower.

His touch was gentle, the opposite of his kiss. His hands softly caressed your red cheeks, while his lips hungrily chased after your own.

You tugged at the baby hairs that rested on the back of his neck, desire and hunger feeding off you as he slipped his tongue into your pretty mouth. A low growl escaped his swollen lips, and you felt arousal begin to pool between your thighs.

You whine as he removes his hand from your face and steps back, crossing his arms. His gaze has always been intimidating. But now that he's seen you fall on your ass, cry, and melt under his touch all in one day, it is much more intimidating.

You've been vulnerable in front of him. Something you could never do before. But you didn't care if he saw your flaws, you were perfect to him.

He saw a future when he looked at you. He saw a family, something he had longed for many years ago. He saw hope, love, and promise.

He saw you.

Beautiful, perfect, irresistible you.

And as he looked at you, only one question entered his mind.

"Do you want to meet my cat?"

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

a/n: chat. its 2 am. but i am DETERMINED to post this. i just love you guys sm mwah mwah. also, wasn't in a smut mood. still getting used to writing smut LMAO.

also random disclaimer: i have never done ballet. so if any terms are wrong or if my spelling is trash PLS LMK!

@bohemiandelilah @menabuser16 @verouys @speedymagazinewhispers @metalbaby2 @nellabear @marymun @orihime188 @nanascupid @fnl9zer @chasinghxran @crystalizia @auspicious-lilana @machipyun @cdej6 @namelesslosers

[thehoneybeestings]

Vi Sleep Headcanons

Word Count: 545

Content/Warnings: sfw, gn reader (no pronouns used), a little bit of angst just bc poor Vi has never caught a break in her life

A/N: so while i finish up the dancer!vi x dancer! reader smut... i wrote this up super quick last night in bed while my girlfriend was genuinely sprawled on top of me pushing me off of it but awwww my shayla ANYWAY, here is a short headcanon about what I think it's like to share a bed with Vi! enjoy!

Love, Bee ୨ৎ

୨ৎ Vi, who feels the safest when she's as small as she can get while she sleeps

୨ৎ Before you two began sleeping in the same bed, she'd try to go to sleep with her limbs outstretched- be it on her side, her back, or her stomach- but every morning, without fail, she'd wake up with her knees tucked into her chest and her arms wrapped around her own waist

୨ৎ After the two of you began sharing a bed, she'd start out curled into herself, cradled in your arms, and wake up starfished across the entire fucking bed

୨ৎ Vi, who I fully and wholeheartedly believe sucks at being the big spoon

୨ৎ As much as she'd like to feign that she's all big and tough- that she's supposed to be the one holding you- she sleeps the best tucked against your back, covers pulled up to her nose

୨ৎ (When she does try to big spoon, she burrows her head so far into your back that you end up turning around to hold her anyway)

୨ৎ Vi, who-despite pulling it right up to her nose before she falls asleep- always manages to kick the damn comforter off the bed in the middle of the night

୨ৎ She runs so hot at night that it doesn't matter; anything more than the top sheet and you'd sweat through your pajamas

୨ৎ Vi, who sleeps naked apart from her underwear (plain cotton hipsters; there's no way boxers are fitting underneath the tight ass jeans she wears like i’m sorry)

୨ৎ Vi, who hates waking up alone; in fact, she's terrified of it

୨ৎ You learned your lesson about leaving bed unannounced when one morning, you woke up before she did and decided to sneak off to the kitchen to make her a surprise breakfast

୨ৎ You're busy scrambling eggs when you hear her call your name from the hallway leading to your bedroom 

୨ৎ She rounds the corner to the kitchen, eyes wide and wild until they land on you, and she finally exhales

୨ৎ “Hey baby! I thought I’d surprise you with breakfast in bed; you like your eggs scrambled, right?”

୨ৎ “Yeah,” she'd breathe out. She still looked like she'd seen a ghost. 

୨ৎ You'd furrow your brow, worry creeping up on you. “You okay?” 

୨ৎ “Y-yeah, sorry. I’m good,” she'd reply, unconvincingly.

୨ৎ Your eyes wouldn't leave her as you moved the eggs off of the heat and made your way to where she stood with a hand on the wall to support herself

୨ৎ “Baby,” you'd coax, reaching out to tame a stray tendril of fuchsia; and she'd envelop you in her arms, holding on like you'd disappear if she let go

୨ৎ “Please don't leave without waking me first, okay?” She’d plead, her voice breaking.

୨ৎ And your heart would shatter as you realized just how terrified she was of losing someone else

୨ৎ From that point on, you'd never leave bed without a gentle shake to her shoulder and a quick kiss on her forehead as you alerted her that you were leaving, but that you'd be back

୨ৎ Vi, who still has a hard time comprehending that she has a soft bed to sleep in at night, a fluffy comforter to abandon when she gets too hot, full nights of sleep without nightmares, and most of all, you to share it with

End ୨ৎ

[lilbabypanda-blog2]

Phainon x (fem) reader

Part1 part2 PART3

The group packed up quickly, with Tribbie cheerfully skipping ahead, Trailblazer casually snacking as always, and Dan Heng trailing behind with his usual quiet presence. Phainon lingered just slightly, trying to collect himself as his heart continued to race from Y/N’s earlier compliment.

He caught up as they began walking along a narrow path, the ancient stones of the city outskirts giving way to rough terrain. The air smelled faintly of moss and something metallic, and the ground was uneven beneath their feet.

Y/N walked ahead, her sword strapped securely to her back, her expression calm but focused. Phainon tried to focus on anything but how cool she looked.

“So, uh, Y/N,” he said, sidling up to her with a casual grin. “You were really amazing back there too, you know. The way you took down that big guy? Legendary.”

Y/N glanced at him, her face lighting up with a smile. “Thanks, Phainon. But it’s not really that impressive when you’ve had as much practice as I have.”

“Not impressive? Are you kidding?” Phainon said, his voice rising slightly. “You climbed a living boulder like it was a staircase! That’s… that’s beyond impressive! That’s—”

“Admirable?” Tribbie chimed in from ahead, turning to walk backward so she could grin at them. “Heroic? The stuff of legends? Keep going, Phainon, I’m enjoying this.”

Phainon stumbled over his words, shooting her a helpless look. “I mean, yeah, all of that! But I wasn’t—I wasn’t trying to—”

Trailblazer snickered, patting Tribbie on the shoulder as they both turned back to the path. Dan Heng, walking quietly a few paces behind, sighed audibly but said nothing.

Y/N just laughed. “You’re sweet, Phainon. But I couldn’t have done it without you all holding the others off. Teamwork makes the dream work, right?”

Phainon flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Y-yeah, totally. Teamwork.”

They walked in companionable silence for a while, the crunch of their footsteps on gravel the only sound. The scenery began to shift, with jagged cliffs rising on either side and strange, glowing carvings etched into the stone walls.

Dan Heng finally broke the silence. “The traces we’re following—there’s a higher concentration up ahead.” He gestured toward a fork in the path, one side leading to a darker, more enclosed area while the other veered toward an open, rocky clearing.

“Splitting up might save us time,” Y/N suggested, already assessing the terrain. “Dan Heng, you and Trailblazer could take the path on the left, and the rest of us can check out the clearing.”

Dan Heng nodded in agreement. “It’s logical. But if either group encounters trouble, don’t engage until we regroup.”

Trailblazer gave a thumbs-up. “Got it. No heroics… unless they look really cool.”

Y/N rolled her eyes fondly. “Sure, just don’t die trying to show off.”

As Dan Heng and Trailblazer disappeared down the left path, the remaining trio headed toward the clearing. The rocky terrain was uneven, with glowing crystals jutting out at odd angles.

“Alright,” Y/N said, scanning the area. “Let’s see if we can pick up any more traces.”

Tribbie wandered a little ahead, poking at the glowing crystals with her staff. “These things are so weird. I feel like if I touch the wrong one, the whole place might explode.”

“Maybe don’t touch them, then,” Y/N suggested, raising an eyebrow.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Tribbie grinned, but she stepped back cautiously anyway.

Phainon, meanwhile, was sticking close to Y/N, his usual energy tempered slightly by the eerie atmosphere. He couldn’t help but glance at her every so often, marveling at how calm and composed she seemed.

“Hey, Y/N?” he said suddenly.

She turned to him, her expression curious. “What’s up?”

“Do you ever, uh, get nervous? You know, before a fight or something?”

Y/N tilted her head, considering the question. “Sometimes,” she admitted. “But I’ve learned to channel it. Nervous energy can be useful if you use it right.”

“Huh,” Phainon said, looking thoughtful. “That’s… really smart. Makes sense, coming from you.”

Y/N smiled. “What about you? Do you ever get nervous?”

“Oh, me? Nah,” Phainon said quickly, puffing out his chest. “I’m as cool as they come.”

Tribbie snorted loudly from a few feet away. “Sure, Phainon. That’s why you nearly tripped over a rock trying to dodge one of those stone monsters earlier.”

“I was strategizing!” he said, his voice rising an octave.

Y/N laughed, and Phainon couldn’t even be mad about being called out because the sound of her laughter was worth it.

Before he could say anything else, Y/N crouched down, her sharp eyes catching something on the ground. She reached out and brushed away a layer of dust, revealing faint scorch marks and a few shards of glowing crystal.

“Looks like we’re on the right track,” she said, holding up one of the shards for Phainon and Tribbie to see.

“Good find,” Phainon said, leaning closer to examine it. “You’ve got an eye for this stuff, huh?”

“Comes with the territory,” she said with a shrug, slipping the shard into her bag. “Let’s keep moving. Whatever left these marks can’t be too far ahead.”

As they continued onward, Phainon couldn’t help but glance at Y/N every now and then, his golden-retriever smile never far from his face. Even in the middle of potentially dangerous territory, she had a way of making everything feel… lighter.

And if he tripped over a rock once or twice while sneaking glances at her, well, Tribbie was kind enough not to comment.

For now.

The group tread cautiously through the glowing clearing, the jagged terrain surrounding them like a maze of natural traps. The scorch marks and glowing shards scattered across the ground were undeniable signs that something was lurking nearby.

Y/N raised her sword slightly, the sharp metallic sound cutting through the tense silence. “Stay alert. We’re close.”

Phainon stepped closer to her, his signature golden-retriever grin still present, though his eyes were sharp with focus. “Don’t worry. If anything jumps out, I’ll handle it.”

“You’ll handle it?” Mydei snorted from behind, his rough voice carrying just enough mockery to make Phainon glance over his shoulder. “Didn’t you almost trip over your own sword five minutes ago?”

“Strategic repositioning,” Phainon shot back, puffing his chest out. “You wouldn’t understand, Mydei. It’s a finesse thing.”

“Right,” Mydei drawled, his blonde-red hair catching the glow of the crystals as he cracked his knuckles. “I’ll keep that in mind while I’m taking down twice as many as you.”

Tribbie, skipping a few paces ahead, waved her staff around like it was a baton. “Oh, boy. Here we go again. The Phainon versus Mydei Show, round 57.” She paused, smirking over her shoulder. “You know, if you two spent half as much time fighting monsters as you do fighting each other, we’d have wiped this place clean by now.”

Before anyone could respond, a deep, grinding sound echoed through the clearing. The ground seemed to vibrate beneath their feet, and from the shadows emerged hulking figures of stone and crystal.

The Titankin stood tall and menacing, their faceless, humanoid forms glowing faintly with runes etched into their surfaces. Some carried swords as broad as tree trunks, while others held bows strung with crystalline energy.

“Alright, guys,” Y/N said, her voice calm and commanding as she gripped her sword. “We’ve got company. Let’s not make this harder than it has to be.”

“Hard? Please,” Phainon said, flipping his blade with a flourish. “This’ll be easy.”

“Bet I take down more than you,” Mydei challenged, his fists glowing faintly as he prepared for battle.

Phainon rolled his eyes but grinned. “Oh, it’s on.”

Y/N sighed. “Can you two not—”

“Ready? GO!” Phainon yelled, charging toward the nearest Titankin with Mydei hot on his heels.

Y/N groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Of course.”

Tribbie giggled, hopping to the side as one of the archer-type Titankin fired a glowing arrow her way. “You gotta admit, it’s kind of fun watching them trip over themselves trying to one-up each other.”

“Fun isn’t the word I’d use,” Y/N muttered, dashing forward to engage one of the sword-wielding Titankin.

The battlefield erupted into chaos.

Phainon darted around the heavy strikes of a massive Titankin, his movements quick and graceful as he delivered a series of precise slashes to its legs. “That’s one down!” he called triumphantly as the creature crumbled into rubble.

“One?” Mydei scoffed, delivering a powerful uppercut to another Titankin, causing cracks to spiderweb across its torso. He followed up with a crushing blow that sent it collapsing in a heap of stone. “Two for me!”

“Oh, come on!” Phainon shouted, narrowly dodging a glowing arrow. “That one didn’t even put up a fight!”

“Don’t be mad just because I’m better,” Mydei retorted, smirking as he squared off against another enemy.

“Better at being annoying, maybe!”

Y/N, meanwhile, was weaving through the battlefield like a dancer, her sword flashing as she expertly dismantled the Titankin one by one. She didn’t have time to indulge in the boys’ antics, but she couldn’t help but smirk as she caught snippets of their bickering.

“Focus!” she called out, parrying a massive swing from one of the larger Titankin.

“I am focusing!” Phainon shouted back, leaping onto a boulder to get a better angle. He launched himself off it and delivered a devastating blow to one of the archers, splitting its crystalline bow in half. He turned to Mydei, grinning.

“Three down!” Phainon called out, his blade flashing as he leapt backward, dodging the heavy swing of a stone sword. He twisted midair, landed smoothly, and sliced through the Titankin’s glowing core. “Make that four!”

“Four?” Mydei snorted, dodging an arrow that narrowly grazed his shoulder. “I’m already at six. You better pick up the pace, golden boy.” He delivered a brutal punch to the chest of another Titankin, cracks spreading through its torso before it crumbled to the ground.

“You’re counting that one?” Phainon yelled, pointing accusingly at the pile of rubble. “It fell over because it tripped! You didn’t even hit it that hard!”

“Still counts,” Mydei said smugly, flexing his fists.

Tribbie laughed as she hopped onto a rock for a better view, her blue eyes gleaming with amusement. “I’m just gonna say it—you two are hilarious. You’re like those birds that fight over shiny things for no reason.” She waved her staff, blasting back a Titankin archer. “Meanwhile, Y/N’s probably lapping you both.”

“I heard that,” Y/N called out, her voice steady as she parried the massive blade of a Titankin. She stepped inside its guard, her sword flashing as she delivered a precise strike to its glowing core. The creature froze for a second before shattering into a heap of glowing rubble. “And Tribbie’s not wrong.”

Phainon’s head whipped around, distracted for a split second, which earned him a close call with a stone sword slicing through the air by his shoulder. He yelped and ducked, countering with a well-placed slash to the monster’s legs. “You’re saying you’re ahead of me?” he asked incredulously, finishing the Titankin off with a dramatic spin.

Y/N didn’t respond immediately, instead focusing on taking down another Titankin with a smooth series of strikes. Her movements were quick and calculated, every step and swing perfectly timed.

Mydei, mid-punch, glanced over at her with a frown. “She’s bluffing. There’s no way she’s ahead of me.” He delivered a devastating uppercut to a Titankin, sending its head flying clean off its shoulders.

Y/N only smiled, which, of course, made both men more suspicious.

“Seven!” Phainon yelled triumphantly, dodging and weaving through another attack. “Seven, Mydei! You better start worrying.”

“Eight,” Mydei shot back, slamming his fist into the chest of another Titankin. He glanced at Phainon with a smirk. “You’re gonna owe me dinner at this rate.”

Tribbie rolled her eyes, blasting another archer from a distance. “Wow, the male ego is really something, huh?”

Finally, the last Titankin fell, its glowing shards scattering across the rocky ground. The battlefield fell silent except for the sound of the group catching their breath.

Phainon wiped sweat from his brow, turning to Mydei with a triumphant grin. “Alright, what’s the tally?”

“Nine,” Mydei said confidently, crossing his arms and looking far too pleased with himself.

“Ha! Ten!” Phainon declared, pointing his sword at Mydei like he’d just won a duel. “Looks like dinner’s on you, my friend!”

Tribbie chuckled, hopping down from her perch. “I wouldn’t get too excited, golden boy.”

“What? Why?” Phainon blinked, confused.

Y/N sheathed her sword, her grin easy and casual as she stretched her arms. “Because I got 20.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“...What?” Phainon said, his voice cracking slightly.

“Twenty?” Mydei stared at her like she’d just sprouted a second head.

Y/N shrugged, brushing some dirt off her sleeve. “Yeah. You know, while you two were busy arguing and trying to impress each other, someone had to actually take care of the problem.”

Tribbie burst out laughing, nearly doubling over. “She got more than both of you combined! Oh, this is gold.”

Phainon’s jaw dropped, his face turning red—not from embarrassment, but from sheer disbelief. “You—you were counting?”

“Of course I was counting,” Y/N said with a sly grin, crossing her arms. “It’s not my fault I’m better at multitasking than you two.”

Mydei groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m never hearing the end of this, am I?”

“Nope,” Y/N replied cheerfully.

Phainon blinked, then rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well… uh… you were incredible out there, Y/N. Seriously. I mean, you always are, but today especially.” His usual golden-retriever energy returned in full force, though his cheeks were still faintly pink.

Tribbie nudged Mydei with a smirk. “Look at him, blushing like she just crowned him king of the world.”

Mydei rolled his eyes. “Pathetic.”

Phainon ignored them, flashing Y/N a grin that was only a little bit nervous. “Next time, I’ll catch up. Promise.”

Y/N chuckled, patting him on the shoulder as she walked past. “Good luck with that.”

Phainon just stood there, staring after her, the goofy grin on his face refusing to fade.

The group made their way deeper into the rocky terrain, the eerie glow of shattered crystal fragments lighting their path. The air was cooler here, heavy with an unnatural stillness that made Tribbie glance nervously over her shoulder every few minutes.

“So… does it feel like the ground’s gonna swallow us whole, or is that just me?” Tribbie muttered, clutching her staff a little tighter.

“Just your imagination,” Y/N replied casually, stepping over a fallen rock. “Probably.”

Tribbie squinted at her. “Probably? That’s not comforting.”

“Relax,” Phainon said brightly, his usual grin plastered across his face. He gestured to the rocky surroundings. “If anything weird happens, I’ll protect you!”

“Wow, I feel so safe,” Tribbie deadpanned, rolling her eyes.

As they moved forward, Mydei, who had been walking ahead of the group, suddenly stopped. “Hold up,” he said, holding out a hand. His sharp eyes scanned the ground.

“What is it?” Y/N asked, stepping closer to him.

“Something’s off,” Mydei replied, pointing to a patch of the rocky ground that looked slightly… different. The texture was smoother, the color faintly darker, almost like it had been worn down by something—or someone.

Y/N crouched down to examine it. She brushed her fingers over the stone and noticed faint grooves carved into it, leading in a jagged line toward a nearby outcrop. “These look like tracks,” she murmured.

“Tracks?” Phainon asked, leaning over her shoulder with barely contained excitement. “Like… a secret path?”

“Possibly,” Y/N said, rising to her feet. She followed the grooves with her eyes, her brow furrowing. “Whatever made them was big.”

“That’s encouraging,” Tribbie muttered, though she followed behind eagerly as Y/N began tracing the path.

The group walked in silence for a few moments, the faint glow of the crystals growing dimmer as they approached a cluster of large boulders piled haphazardly against the side of a cliff.

“Dead end,” Mydei said, crossing his arms.

“Maybe not,” Y/N countered, stepping closer to the boulders. She placed a hand on the surface of one, her gaze narrowing. “There’s something behind these.”

Phainon immediately perked up, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. “You mean like hidden treasure? Or ancient ruins? Or a monster nest?”

“Could be all three,” Y/N replied dryly.

“Fantastic!” Phainon said, clearly missing her sarcasm.

Tribbie poked one of the boulders with her staff. “Alright, so how do we move these without getting crushed?”

“Allow me,” Mydei said, cracking his knuckles. Without waiting for a response, he stepped forward, placed his hands on the nearest boulder, and shoved. The rock groaned in protest before slowly rolling away, revealing a narrow passage that sloped downward into the darkness.

“Show-off,” Phainon muttered under his breath.

“You’re welcome,” Mydei replied smugly, gesturing to the newly revealed path.

The passage was just wide enough for one person to walk through at a time, its walls smooth and slightly damp. Faint symbols were etched into the stone, glowing softly as the group descended.

“This is definitely leading somewhere,” Y/N said, her voice echoing slightly.

“I vote we turn back before we stumble into something we can’t handle,” Tribbie whispered, though she didn’t stop walking.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Phainon asked, his excitement palpable. “This is an adventure!”

“An adventure that could kill us,” Mydei muttered, though he followed without hesitation.

As they reached the bottom of the slope, the passage opened into a vast underground chamber. The ceiling was high and arched, supported by towering pillars carved with intricate patterns. In the center of the room stood what looked like an altar, surrounded by more of the strange, glowing symbols.

“Whoa,” Tribbie breathed, her voice filled with awe.

Y/N approached the altar cautiously, her sword at the ready. The air felt heavier here, charged with some kind of ancient energy. “This place is incredible,” she said, running her fingers over one of the carvings.

Phainon walked up beside her, his grin softer now as he took in the room. “You’re right. It’s beautiful.”

“It’s also probably dangerous,” Mydei pointed out, eyeing the shadows warily.

“Dangerous and beautiful,��� Phainon said cheerfully. “Like Y/N.”

Y/N turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “What was that?”

“Uh, nothing!” Phainon said quickly, his face turning pink.

Tribbie snorted. “Smooth.”

Before anyone could comment further, a low rumble echoed through the chamber, and the glowing symbols on the altar began to pulse.

____

The chamber was eerily quiet, save for the faint hum of energy resonating from the glowing symbols on the altar. The group moved cautiously, their footsteps echoing softly off the smooth stone floor.

Y/N stood at the center of the room, studying the carvings etched into the towering pillars. Her fingers traced the lines of the ancient symbols, their glow pulsing faintly under her touch. “These are definitely not from the same era as the city above,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. “This is... older. Much older.”

Tribbie wandered toward the walls, tapping her staff lightly against the stone. “Well, it looks cool. Creepy, but cool.”

“Cool and creepy are rarely good combinations,” Mydei said, standing by the entrance with his arms crossed. He scanned the room with his usual skeptical frown, his gaze lingering on the darker corners.

Phainon, meanwhile, hovered near Y/N, watching her examine the carvings with a curious tilt of his head. “Do you think it’s some kind of warning?” he asked, pointing to a set of jagged symbols that spiraled outward from the altar.

“Could be,” Y/N replied, her brow furrowing as she knelt to inspect the markings on the floor. “Or it might be a map... or instructions.”

“You’re saying you don’t know?” Mydei asked, smirking faintly.

“I’m saying I need more time to figure it out,” Y/N shot back, though her tone was more amused than annoyed.

Phainon crouched beside her, peering at the symbols with a thoughtful expression. “You’re really good at this, Y/N. Like, way smarter than I’ll ever be. It’s kind of amazing.”

Y/N glanced at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks, Phainon.”

Tribbie snickered from across the room. “He’s doing that thing again.”

“What thing?” Phainon asked, his grin faltering slightly.

“The thing where you turn into a lovesick puppy,” Tribbie teased, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Am not!” Phainon protested, his cheeks flushing a light pink. He quickly stood, clearing his throat.

Y/N, oblivious as ever, was already back to examining the symbols. She stepped closer to the altar, her focus narrowing on a particularly intricate carving. “There’s something strange about this part,” she murmured, leaning in for a closer look.

Phainon stepped forward instinctively, his hand hovering near her arm. “Uh, careful—”

Before he could finish, the ground beneath Y/N’s feet gave a sudden, ominous crack.

“Y/N!” Phainon shouted, lunging forward, but it was too late.

The floor crumbled away in an instant, and Y/N disappeared into the darkness below.

Tribbie screamed, dropping her staff as she ran toward the edge of the newly formed pit. Mydei was already there, his sharp reflexes keeping him from tumbling in himself. He grabbed Tribbie by the shoulder to keep her from getting too close.

“Y/N!” Phainon called, his voice echoing down the dark abyss. He dropped to his knees, peering into the void with wide, panicked eyes.

There was no sound except for the faint crumble of debris.

“Is she—” Tribbie started, her voice trembling.

“She’s alive,” Mydei interrupted, his tone firm as he scanned the edge of the pit. “There’s no way she’d go down that easily.”

Phainon clenched his fists, his usual smile completely gone. “We have to get to her. Now.”

[scribblesandink]

She laughed quietly, shaking her head

"God, I'm a mess"

"Yes, you are. But so are the rest of us. We all went a little off the rails during our first century or 2, you know. You're not alone in that"

"I never expected.... That this would be how my life would turn out"

"I know. I don't blame you. Back in the day, we had humans throwing their entire lives at our feet just for small blessings. The idea of immortality.... It was something they didn't even dare consider"

"Does it ever get boring? "

"Yeah. It's kind of weird watching time pass while you're exactly the same"

"How do you deal with it? "

"Find something you like and stick to it. I put a lot of time and energy into building roads and learning languages. Apollo did the same with medical research and was a field medical in.... Well all the major wars. Dio actually used to help people struggling with addiction before he lost control of his"

"Wait, seriously? "

"Yeah. His whole thing was to be yourself and have fun without being restrained. Whether by social norms or anything else. Addiction is a prison that is really hard to get out of"

"Yeah.... I just assumed he had always been like this"

"No. He would always preach freeing yourself from anything that held you down. It sucks that he was eventually taken down by the thing he had helped so many people get over. His main thing was pretty much 'Life is too short to hurt yourself over stupid shit. Live for yourself. You're gonna die eventually, may as well enjoy the ride'"

"Yeah, that sounds like him"

.

Apollo's fever continued to fluctuate, waking him up a few times before knocking him back out. He eventually had to join the interview and Dionysus helped him get ready

"You don't have to do this, you know"

"I do. I don't like disappointing people"

"You're sick"

"Ill sleep after. It's only an hour"

"What about the show tomorrow? "

"I.... Ill figure something out"

"We should cancel"

"My voice still works"

"Yeah but everything else doesn't"

Do you think covid existed in the Season? Do you think that for 2020-2021 Zeus couldn't host two Seasons. He had to wait until 2022 when restrictions finally lifted?

I'm gonna assume that covid didn't exist for my own sanity

[kittysarchive]

Enhypen hyung line- Hard doms

*toxic enhypen coming very soon!

warnings- mostly written in dot points, includes smut, dom enhypen, hard dom, sub reader, mean enhypen, teasing enhypen, cumming inside (DONTT), punishing reader

Heeseung

He doesn't have time for you antics.

He could come across cold but he just wants you to shut up.

He'll make you use a safe word, just so he knows your annoying whines or punches to let him go, are you actually enjoying yourself.

Heeseung can switch though.

He wont change from being nice but his mean attitude will change.

Instead of insulting you or getting tired of your squirming he can be a mean tease.

Going extra slow

Mocking you

Only caring about his own pleasure....

"Fuck stop squirming" Heeseung huffs, gripping your hips, pushing them deeper into the mattress. You mewl at being manhandled.

"You like that huh? you dirty slut" He laughs, pulling his hips back to brutally thrust back into you. You cry out at the insult, but even yourself couldn't stop clenching around his cock. He emits another laugh, as his sends a hard thrust back into you.

"My fucking slut, that's what you are" He loosens his grip on your hips as he finishes inside you.

Jay

He's not too different from Heeseung

Except the fact, he more scolds you then teases you

He's annoyed, lets just say

Whether you had been teasing him all day

Giving him some attitude or going behind his back to hang out somewhere he doesn't like or talk to someone he doesn't like...

All these will end up with you on the bed, head down ass up

You don't complain though

It hurts yeah but maybe, this is what you wanted from the start of the day

And Jay isn't dumb

Thats why he scolds you and sometimes insults

Cos why did you have to be a brat?

He would have given you something, but now your getting this

"Little brat is what you are" Jay growles behind you, gripping your ass tightly and spreading your cheeks open. His cock was already deep up against your plush walls, but he knew he could go deeper. Your whimper is drowned out into the blankets.

"You don't want this anymore? This is all you fucking beg for" He pushes his cock roughly into you. You can feel his balls tickle your cunt.

"Take it all baby" Jay groans, pulling back before thrusting into you again, soon he'd have you on your back, and start all over again.

Jake

A little less brutal then the others but he does affect you with his words

Making you feel smaller then him

Making you feel worthless

Making you submit to him because how dare you be a brat and give him attitude

Of course this is all your fault, he's just fucking some sense into you

'your to rough' that's how he needs to be with you he thinks t himself, and he believes himself.

"You won't do it again right? I know you won't you whore" You whimper at the insult, mouth stuffed off his cocked, you couldn't bite back a response.

"You look better like this anyway, beneath me" Jake laughs to himself, leaning back on his elbows, enjoying you struggle to take all of him. Even with the tears pricking your eyes and the gags that bring you close to throwing up, he won't let you take a break, otherwise how else will you learn.

Sitting up straight, he roughly holds your head, pushing you till your nose was touching his pubic hairs. Feeling a wave of nausea as you feel his cock slide down your throat, you suppress it. This was where you were meant to be.

Sunghoon

Sunghoon enjoys when you make a fool of yourself

Making you beg

Making you cry

Making you gag over his cock

Even making you cum early and apologise

He loves it all

Even if you have done nothing wrong, that's just how he is in bed.

Because if you did do something wrong, why would he fuck you? It brings you pleasure

He'd rather jerk off in front of you

Or make you deep throat him

Anything that gives him pleasure and avoids you of any

"Please.....I'm sorry....Sorry for being a brat" You sob in front off him. After giving him a head, not only did you have his cum on his lips, but his cock was still hard.

"You think this is what I want to hear from your right now?' Sunghoon snaps at you, holding you hair tightly and pushing your head towards his cock again.

"Fucking suck" You take a breath before taking him into his mouth. Maybe just maybe later tonight h'' wake you and let you cum...maybe just maybe.

[echo-riot]

✞⛧ Abby with an always sleepy Girlfriend ✞⛧

• Abby finds your constant drowsiness both endearing and concerning. She keeps a mental checklist to make sure you’re getting enough food, hydration, and rest.

• The first time you fell asleep on her shoulder, she didn’t move a muscle for hours, terrified of waking you. Now, it’s her favorite position to hold you.

• She teases you endlessly about how quickly you can fall asleep anywhere. “You could nap on a bed of nails, huh, sweetheart?” she jokes while brushing your hair out of your face.

• Abby has become an expert at carrying you to bed. Whether you’ve dozed off on the couch, at the table, or even mid-conversation, she effortlessly scoops you up and tucks you in.

• She secretly loves how clingy you get when you’re sleepy. When you curl up against her chest or tug her closer, she melts every time.

• Abby keeps extra blankets and pillows around the house for your impromptu naps. She’s learned your preferences and ensures they’re always within reach.

• If you fall asleep in public, Abby becomes hyper-protective, standing guard to make sure no one disturbs you. “Go ahead, try to wake her. I dare you,” she warns playfully.

• Sometimes, when you’re too tired to finish a sentence, she’ll finish it for you—or just kiss your forehead and tell you it can wait until you’re awake.

• She’s incredibly patient with your sleepy habits. If you doze off during a date or movie night, she simply shifts gears and enjoys the moment with you peacefully snoozing beside her.

• Abby takes note of when you seem sleepier than usual and quietly adjusts her plans to accommodate you. She’d never make you feel bad for needing more rest.

• She has a habit of gently tracing the lines of your face while you sleep, marveling at how soft and peaceful you look.

• Abby’s mornings often start with you groaning and mumbling protests against waking up. She’ll nudge you gently, grinning. “Come on, princess, you gotta get up. Or are we napping through breakfast again?”

• When you fall asleep in her arms, she whispers sweet nothings in your ear, even if you can’t hear them. It’s her way of expressing how much she adores you.

• Abby doesn’t let anyone else tease you about your sleepiness. She’s quick to shut it down with a sharp glance or a dry remark. “She’s perfect just the way she is. You got a problem with that?”

• She’ll often adjust her pace to match your energy. If you’re too tired for a big outing, she’s just as happy to spend the day cuddling with you on the couch.

• Abby has learned to recognize your sleepy quirks—like how your voice gets softer and your movements slower when you’re about to drift off. She finds it adorable.

• She loves how naturally you nestle into her when you’re drowsy, like her body is your favorite pillow.

• On especially tough days, she’ll coax you to take a nap with her, knowing that resting together is the best way to unwind.

• Abby has developed a ritual of tucking you in, even if you fall asleep in the middle of the day. She always kisses your forehead and murmurs, “Sweet dreams, doll.”

• She laughs softly whenever you insist you’re “not tired” and then fall asleep five minutes later. “Yeah, sure, babe,” she mutters while covering you with a blanket.

• Abby secretly loves when you sleep in her shirts, especially when you curl up in them and bury your face in the fabric.

• If you try to stay awake for her sake, she’ll gently scold you. “Baby, it’s okay to rest. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

• On mornings when you’re extra groggy, Abby makes it her mission to coax you out of bed with the smell of coffee or breakfast.

• If you fall asleep during her workouts, she chuckles and keeps glancing over at you with a fond smile, feeling a strange sense of peace just knowing you’re nearby.

• Abby’s favorite sound in the world is the soft, sleepy sighs you make when you’re half-asleep and snuggling into her.

• She loves sneaking into bed and wrapping you in her arms when you’re already asleep, whispering, “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

• Abby often jokes about how you have the stamina of a cat. “What’s it like living the dream, huh? Naps whenever you want?”

• Despite her teasing, Abby is endlessly attentive to your needs. If you’re too tired to explain why you’re sleepy, she’ll simply hold you and let you rest.

• She secretly loves how your sleepiness gives her an excuse to pamper you more. Carrying you, tucking you in, and making sure you’re comfortable are her favorite ways to show her love.

[insomniakisses]

G!p Caitlin taking you with her to a team dinner and some random dude starts flirting with you and you decide to make her jealous a little bit and she eventually gets fed up and leads you to the bathroom

You’re Mine

A/N: Lowkey changed the request a bit, i just went with it haha. Not exactly the vibe I had hopped for my first WBB fic but.... Yeah. Maybe i could make a part 2 if yall are wanting it!

warnings/notes: I changed this to be alpha!cait hope thats okay, smut, semi public sex, possessive nature, omegaverse au, cait has a dick, afab reader, omega reader, alpha caitlin clark, daddy kink, CNC themes, Toxic!caitlin, cheater!caitlin, Blowjobs, porn with plot, Slightly angsty too, Slight Alpha!Kate x reader, omega space, talk of injuries, blood, possibly slight abusive themes, mentions of cum.

It was a common thing, Caitlin taking you out for meals. Whether it was with her team, the pair of you and Kate or just the two of you. She was just that kind of girlfriend, she liked spending time with you, doting on you and spoiling you beyond belief no matter how much you protest that it’s not necessary.

Today was different though, her attention was not on you at all. No, her attention was on her team and her team only. You put up with it at first, knowing to behave because Caitlin doesn’t like bratty girls. Bratty girls have to be punished. Not to mention the big win the team had just had, she deserved to celebrate and enjoy her night.

But when the second hour of her paying you no mind rolled around you began to get squirmy, you tried to be good you really did but you couldn’t help act up. Especially when your attempts to get her attention were brushed off.

Your first attempt was subtly, shuffling closer to her and looping your hand in her free one, content with the feeling of her skin against yours. That was until she shook your hand off a moment later moving her hand to rest on the table. You pouted then, feeling uneasy that she had brushed you off so easily. The second attempt was a little bolder, and you knew it might cross a line, but you didn’t care. Reaching over you squeezed her upper thigh, but she gave you nothing. Not even a lip twitch.

A soft whine escapes you, quiet enough that only she could hear but she doesn’t react. It makes you sad really, having so little of her attention when she’s usually so wrapped up in your presents that the world becomes white noise. Not tonight though, no, tonight she was focused on anything but you. Even the waitress’s chest and ass apparently judging from the way she bites her lip staring at her as she passes by.

That’s the last straw you think, its one thing for her to ignore you for her team after a win. That you could learn to live with, but to shamelessly check out another omega in front of you after ignoring you all night? Ouch.

You avert your eyes as soon as you see it, like looking any longer might burn you. Your eyes lock with Kate and she shoots you a sympathetic look, clearly more than aware of your feelings. Certainly, more so than your own girlfriend. If you could even call her that.

The two of you had never really used such labels, the girl claiming she didn’t need a label to prove she loved you and only you. And if she loved you and you knew that why did anyone need to know. You felt silly now, sitting there in her jersey her number delicately painted onto your cheek with such detail and care it was clear you had practiced making it look perfect.

Your cheeks flushed, embarrassment and humiliation flooding you. Stupid. You thought, negative thoughts swirling round in your head, beginning a spiral. You excused yourself not that anyone batted an eye as you made a beeline for the restrooms. You lean on the counter and shake your head trying to stop the thoughts that hit you.

She’s embarrassed of you.

She doesn’t even want you here.

She just wants you to leave her alone.

She wants the waitress, she’s prettier than you are.

You shake your head, willing the thoughts to go away. Caitlin hadn’t said any of that, you shouldn’t believe it. You sigh, taking a deep breath and splash your face with water. Taking a deep breath readying yourself to go back out there. Caitlin was your ride, so you were stuck there, forced to endure another 2 hours of humiliation. Sat next to Caitlin as she ignored you and eye fucked anything that walked past. You didn’t know what was worse the way she ignored you without a care, the way Kate was sat opposite all kind smiles and eyes full of pity or the way you knew at the end of the night you’d be faced with horny Caitlin’s honeyed words and empty promises. You’d fall for it of course, you always did. Laying there as she hovered above you, thrusting into you without a care, breath like a brewery.

--

Stepping out of the restrooms you didn’t notice Caitlin’s gaze on you, you were too busy apologising to the poor waiter you’d bumped into. Luckily, he hadn’t been carrying anything, but it didn’t diminish your efforts as you rambled on and on apologising to him.

He dismissed you though, a flirty smirk settling onto his face as he rubbed your waist. Complements and examples of how you could make it up to him escaping his lips over and over. Usually, you would push him off with a scoff and a comment about how sleazy it was, but not today. Today you needed the attention, and you didn’t care who it was from.

You didn’t know or care if Caitlin was looking, having ridded yourself of her jersey and washed her number off your face. She didn’t deserve you, not after her behaviour today. An opinion you would stan your ground on. At least for now.

For now, you were content laughing and encouraging the man in front of you. Though, a few minutes later his smirk dropped into a worried frown. You furrow your brows about to ask him what’s wrong when you hear it. A low deep growl from right behind you. Caitlin’s growl. You shudder at it, not liking the way her scent covers you. It feels wrong. Smothering even, in the way you can only smell her. Her anger is heavily evident in the scent, it sets you off, filling you with dread.

You don’t react, you don’t have time to before your being tugged away. Her grips hard around your wrist, it hurts, and you know it will bruise. She growls again, throwing you into the restroom and into the counter not batting an eye when you yelp out in pain.

Her eyes are narrowed on you, her jaw set. She’s beyond pissed, angrier than you’ve ever seen her. You don’t like it. Not the way she looks at you or the harshness of how she’s touching you. Its wrong. It doesn’t feel good, it makes you feel unimportant. Confirming your previous fears.

She’s quick with her movements reaching out and grabbing your jaw, hard. “What, the fuck was that?” She spits, eyes full of disgust. Her anger flaring when you don’t answer, “I asked you a question slut!” she growls unamused when you fail to answer again, your mouth just opening and closing as you stare up at her wide-eyed.

“Can’t work your mouth huh? You’re just a dumb fucking slut, aren’t you?” you don’t answer, she doesn’t let you. Shoving you down onto your knees with a grunt. “Your mouth’s only useful for one thing, isn’t it? Huh?” her voice is deep and raspy, her hands making quick work of freeing her cock.

“Cait-“ you begin to whine, but she talks over you.

 “Oh, just SHUT UP and fucking take it” she grunts grabbing the back of your head and slamming herself down your throat. Groaning in delight when you gag around her, your fists balled up and slapping against her thighs, drool dripping down your chin onto the floor.

“That’s it,” she gathers your hair in both her hands guiding your head along her as she starts a rough pace fucking into your throat. “That’s fucking it, all your good for warning my fucking cock like the cockslut you are.”

She keeps her rough pace as she abuses your throat, loving every gag you make trying to take her, you have no choice, but you just shut your eyes and take it.

“My slut aren’t you baby,” she taunts thrusting fast as she nears her orgasm, “just here for my use, my personal little cock sleeve, fuck!” She gasps pinning your head to her crotch holding you still as her cock twitches in your throat. Her cum painting it as she spurts into you, panting heavily as she does so.

You gasp for air when she finally releases you, coughing slightly after swallowing all her cum. She slaps her cock again your face smugly, wiping cum and drool across your cheek without a care.

“Are you ready to answer me now slut?” she asks, voice calm but sharp.

“Yes daddy, sorry daddy” you whimper shuffling closer to nuzzle into her thigh as she absent-mindedly strokes your hair. The little attention doing wonders to send you slipping into omega space.

She hums, giving your hair a tug as she repeats her earlier question. “So, what the fuck was that outside, hmm? Throwing yourself at that worthless alpha right in front of my face” she scoffs, staring down at you awaiting your answer which comes out mumbled against her thigh as frustrated, and embarrassed tears escape your eyes.

“M’sorry daddy, wanted your attention but you didn’t want me anymore…” you whimper more tears flowing down your blushed cheeks. “You wanted that waitress… not me.”

She sighs at that, hearing the confusion and heart break in your voice as you stare up at her with such sad eyes. Her hand comes down to caress your cheek and you mean into her touch letting her pull you up and into her arms, though you curl into yourself a little when met with her intense gaze.

“Look at me.” She commands guiding your head, so it’s tilted up at you. She waits till she has eye contact before she speaks again, “I want you, only you baby hmm” she coos as she wipes your tears and rests her forehead against yours.

“But I was bad…” you mumble, head getting fuzzy as your hit with a wave of her pheromones pushing you further into omega space weather you want it or not. Your pupils dilating as you let out a whine leaning into her fully eyes closing as she tugs your pants and underwear off, guiding you onto the counter and spreading you.

“That’s why I have to punish you...” you hear her say, missing the smirk on her face as you let your eyes close finding it hard to focus one anything right now, trusting your alpha to take care of you.

She lines herself up slamming in, neglecting wrapping up her dick because your so out of it you won’t stop her. Besides if your hers so what if she cums in you? That’s her right whether you like it or not.

The bathroom is filled with grunts and groans as she pounds into you, gripping your thighs hard enough to bruise and slamming into you so hard you’d find it painful in your right mind. There’s no kisses or gentle words, she just pumps out more pheromones keeping you in a state of constant compliance as she pounds away not batting an eye as you hit your head into the mirror ever time she thrusts. Or how you whine in pain from the tap digging into your side.

“That’s it, take it. Fucking take it.”

“All your good for”

“Mine to use whenever I want, however I fucking want.”

“That’s right I fucking own you.”

“Your mine”

She just repeats the same few things grunting against your neck as she bites and sucks at your neck not caring that she’s just mate marked you, and certainly not licking at it to stop the blood or sooth the wound. Instead, she just pounds and pounds into you not caring when people come in or out until she’s done with you. Pulling out with the false promise of coming back for you after she grabs her jacket, instead she leaves you there. Kate watching her leave with the waitress from earlier a little while later, wondering where you could possibly be or if you could see this happen. Scoffing “does she have no shame” she thinks to herself.

--

You’re in and out of consciousness, confused and in pain when Kate finds you. Having taken a trip to the restrooms to fix her hair before leaving. The first thing that hits her is your smell, she smells your in omega space and then her eyes land on you.

You’re still on the counter, slumped up by the mirror. Bruises and scratches litter your skin, blood crusting on your neck as the bite mark remains an open wound. Caitlin’s cum leaking from your pussy and it’s there she sees the hand shaped bruises across your legs and hips. She’s frozen in place, she knew Caitlin wasn’t always the best or most loyal to the omega’s she had but she would have never thought Caitlin could be so cruel especially not to someone so sweet and loving as you. She growls then, silently promising to protect you from now on. Even if she has to fight Caitlin to do it.

You’re shaking as she gets closer your eyes barely open, clearly not able to do anything not even speak. She’s unsure if the constant shaking is from coldness or that your body is in shock, honestly it could be both judging on your state. She’s so thankful that it was her that found you, who knows what another alpha might have done.

She slips off her jacket and helps you into it grabbing some paper towel and wetting it in the sink, gently cleaning at your sensitive pussy. She coos when you jolt and laces her free hand with yours, kissing your knuckles as she talks you through every single thing she does for you. Making sure she notifies you before she makes any kind of movement to touch you.

Once she’s cleaned you up and tended to your wound as best she can with what’s around her, she looks for your clothes placing them in a pile on the counter next to you. You can’t put them back on, there soaked in god knows what from the floor and half ripped from Caitlin’s lack of care.

“For fucks sake Caitlin! You asshole.” she mumbles under her breath. Shoving them into her bag to deal with later.

Slipping out of her sweats and helping you into them she can’t help chuckle at how long they are on you, rolling up the bottoms until they rest at your ankles. She takes her hoodie off then and ties it round her waist covering whatever her baggy t-shirt didn’t of her boxers. Once she’s satisfied, she won’t flash anyone she guides you into her arms.

“C’mon then babygirl, let’s get you somewhere safe, okay?” She doesn’t really expect an answer back, not in this state anyway, but she asks regardless. A small smile tugging at her lips when you manage a slight nod as she carries you out to her car, setting you gently into the seat and buckling you up. With one gentle kiss to your head, she closes the door and gets in the driver’s side, making her way back to her apartment. She’d never been so glad she moved out into her own place. Her only focus being making sure you’re okay

[allllium]

Master Plan Pt. 2

Jason x reader fake dating

~ This is a little short but the next one will be longer

~ WC: 899, They discuss a fake background

~ Jason is anxious about your plan

"Why do you plan to do? Walk in, say we're dating, and expect them all to believe it? Out of nowhere?" You ask him in confusion, Jason knows his family very well and he knows they wouldn't fall for it.

"Well what do you want to do? They won't believe it either way."

"Don't be such a downer."

"I still don't know why we're doing this. It seems dramatic."

"Yes it does that's exactly the point Jason."

"None of this makes any sense." He rolls his eyes and walks into his bedroom. You follow closely behind him.

"It makes perfect sense. Seeing your family will help you feel better, Jason whether you want to believe it or not. And this way, they'll all be so thrown off by the announcement of our relationship, they won't ask about other things. You can spend the next few weeks playing pretend and healing without their overbearing questions."

"Yeah, I guess I can see it that way." He sits down on his bed with small sigh.

"Hey." You sit down next to him, "Everything will be okay."

"I know, I would just like it to be okay now, not however far along."

You pull his hand into yours to comfort him. You've been friends for so long that small touch like this doesn't bother either of you.

"We'll work on it."

"Why are you so instinct on helping me?"

"Because we're friends, believe it or not I enjoy your company. When you're not being so mopey that is."

"Hey I am not mopey." He quickly defends.

"If not mopey then what are you?"

"Something else that's not mopey." He admits quietly.

"That's what I thought. Now backstory." You pull out a piece of paper from one of the notebooks Jason has on his dresser.

"Do we really need a backstory? Just tell we started dating a little bit ago."

"Oh no. If we're doing this, we're doing it properly. That means we're creating a backstory and answers to any questions they might ask."

"You've certainly thought this through."

"Yes I have because I want this to work. You realize if it doesn't they'll make fun of us for the rest of forever?"

"Which makes me wonder even more what you're real motive is for doing this?"

"Is it wrong to want to trick your family?"

"Not at all." You also want to help him in any way you can, it's what friends do.

"No that makes no sense." You're quickly learning not to take any of his words seriously. He's disagreeing with basically everything you say.

"Yes it does Jason." It's been almost an hour and you've gotten almost nothing done.

"No it doesn't. I would never do something extravagant to ask someone out." He shrugs and takes a chip from the plate on the coffee table.

"Why not? Relationships need a certain type of romance and work."

"I'd rather celebrate with a quiet night at home and a homemade dinner."

"Fine, we'll say that."

"What else?"

"I don't know. What do you think is appropriate for your family to know?"

"Nothing. My relationships are none of their business." You aren't surprised by his attitude with this. He doesn't like telling them anything about his personal life.

"Jason." You say sternly. Despite his words, there must be something he's thinking of. He knows how his family is.

"They'll probably ask who made the first move and when we realized our feelings."

"That's good, now you're thinking."

"So what do we say?" He asks with an uncaring tone.

"Well Jason, when did you realize you're feelings for me?"

"I felt some hatred since the moment I met you if that counts." He smiles like he's pround of himself.

"That's not nice. If you don't take this seriously, I'll have no choice but to make everything up myself and I'll make it so embarrassing for you you'll never want to leave the house."

"I'll tell them it's when we were-" He takes a pause. "Making dinner together for Alfred's birthday."

"That makes sense. Good job." He rolls his eyes.

"What about you?"

"I'll say the same. It'll mean more."

"Alright then."

The two of you fall into a strange silence and you can't pinpoint why. Of course it's been very awkward trying to talk about things like this. Making up lies about feelings neither of you have.

The whole time you're talking, he can't seem to keep eye contact with you longer than a split second. You want to ask him what's wrong but you know it's weird enough with the tension in the room and he'll probably not respond well to any personal questions.

The rest of the night is spent working on a backstory well enough to fool Damien and Alfred. Unlike Bruce, they both focus on the small details when it comes to stuff like this.

Dick and the others won't be a problem because they'll be so happy with Jason having a actual relationship.

You tell Jason all of this and by the way his body immediately relaxes you can tell it eased a lot of his nerves.

You start to question whether or not this is something you really want to go through with. You're scared it could ruin your relationship with him if it goes wrong but on the other hand it truly does seem like his best chance.

[rabidlittlestrawberry]

OKAY SO.

this inspired me. I made a lil jegulus photographer microfic. I have not read this over but ENJOY

1,308 words, cw - brief mention of workplace harassment but other than that it's fun

Click, click, click

Goosebumps rise on James bare skin, as he does his best to focus, to breathe. 

Click. Breathe in. Click. Breathe out. Click. 

“Look up for me?” 

Shit. 

James looks right down the lens of the camera, trying to keep his mind on the job. To remind himself that this is his job. And he’s good at it. That’s the worst thing. He’s been modelling for years, been in all kinds of compromising positions in front of the eyes of others. And none of it has ever phased him. 

Until now. 

The man behind the camera is the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. He’s currently staring intently into the camera, eye pressed right up against the lens. His black hair curls over his forehead, falling into the eye not pressed against the camera. James clenches his fist in an attempt to keep himself from leaning in and brushing it away. Then he remembers that he’s supposed to look relaxed, and unclenches his fingers. 

The photographer had walked in like he owned the place, barely glancing at James as he’d set up his equipment. James had felt heat rise in his face watching him work. Nimble fingers tightening screws and assembling tripods. 

Then that attention had turned to James, gaze as cold and analytical as when he’d been setting up. And that. That does something to James, something he hadn’t expected. 

And to make matters worse, this is an underwear shoot. It’s not a new experience for James, who hasn’t felt a drop of self-consciousness in years. But with Regulus’ eyes on him, sizing him up, analysing, calculating, he suddenly feels like his skin is on fire. Every inch of him burning up under the detached scrutiny of this beautiful man. 

“Can you turn to the left, arm up?” Comes that soft voice, and James’ brain short circuits. He hesitates for enough time that Regulus raises his eyebrow in silent question, undoubtedly wondering if James has forgotten his left and, right, or maybe is temporarily unable to locate his own arm. 

When he comes back to himself, he scrambles to comply, his limbs feeling heavy and clumsy as he moves. The camera clicks away, and shit. James once again tries to breathe through his nose, to steady himself. Because he’s suddenly very aware of how exposed he is, of how inconvenient it would be for him to get hard in his ridiculously expensive underwear right now.  

It isn’t something he’d ever had to contend with before, no matter how attractive the photographer. In fact, he’d laughed when people asked him about it. He didn’t think of his work as inherently sexual. But this? Regulus directing him with soft words and hard eyes that seemed to pierce right through him. 

Yeah. He’s fucked. 

He mustn’t have got the pose right, because he hears Regulus huff, before reluctantly making his way out from behind the camera. Every cell in James’ body tenses in anticipation as Regulus moves closer. 

“Put your hand right…there,” Regulus mutters, more to himself than James. He reaches his hand forward, but stops just short of actually touching him, fingers hovering an inch from his skin. 

Some base part of James is screaming: touch me, touch me, touch me, while his rational brain grateful that Regulus understands professional boundaries. And James does too. He does he does he does. 

He’d started modelling at eighteen, been in various states of undress around strangers, and he’d had his fair share of photographers who were keen to push boundaries in a variety of ways. Over the years, he’s learned how to hold his ground, but not before he let people poke and prod and move him in ways he’d never stand for these days.

Click, click, click. 

It’s fascinating and frustrating, the brick wall of the photographer’s expression, his stony demeanour. Because surely, it can’t be all in James’ mind. Sure, he’s attracted to Regulus, but that alone wouldn’t cause this. Wouldn’t make the air crackle and spark between them. So thick with tension that James can barely drag it down into his lungs. 

As time ticks on, James slides into a dreamy state, following each direction Regulus gives him without much thought, letting the soft words and the click of the camera lull him into a trance. 

“Can I… I’m going to get a close up,” Regulus says, bringing James back to the present. It’s the first time Regulus falters, and James’ breath catches in his throat. His eyes flick up to the other man, noticing a flush of pink rising in his cheeks. 

Oh. Well that’s interesting. 

He grins, letting the cocky energy overtake him. Now that he can see Regulus isn’t immune to him, he suddenly remembers who he is. What he looks like. The effect he knows he has on people, when he puts the work in. 

“Go ahead,” he says, swallowing down any other comments that might be trying to rise to the surface. Apparently his change in tone was enough, because Regulus coughs awkwardly, his blush noticeably deepening. 

“This okay?” James asks, smirking slightly as he thrusts his hips towards the camera. He knows he looks good, but he wants to hear Regulus say it. 

There’s a pause, and a few more clicks until Regulus nods, with nothing more than a quick “Mhm.” 

James feels his smirk deepen. Regulus’ grey eyes meet his briefly, before he looks quickly away. James takes the opportunity to study his profile, the sharp cut of his jaw, the freckles on his nose, the blush which has, impossibly, deepened in the last few seconds. 

After what feels like a lifetime, Regulus takes a step back, announcing that he has everything he needs. James has to admit, as uncomfortable as it was, he’s disappointed that it’s over. As he starts to dress himself, he finds his mouth moving before he has a chance to think it through. 

“If you need another model, you have my number…” he says, relieved that it wasn’t something worse. 

Regulus freezes, and rakes his eyes over James’ half-dressed form, making him feel completely naked. Finally, he nods, and James feels his whole body relax. 

Being given an inch, James naturally takes a mile. He grins impossibly wider, picking his trousers up slowly, never taking his eyes off Regulus, who is determinedly avoiding meeting his eye. 

“What are you dong tonight?”

That, at least, makes him look up. “I — what?”

“Listen, that was…” he blows out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Intense.” Regulus flinches slightly, and James rushes to backtrack. “No, not… not bad. I just. I do this a lot. And it doesn’t usually feel like that. And so I was wondering if you wanted to get a drink. With me.” James clarifies uselessly, back to wondering if he’d read the signs all wrong, and if he’s just lost himself a future job. It might be okay if he has, because James isn’t sure he can go through that again if Regulus were to turn him down. Being photographed by him after that would be nothing short of torture. 

Regulus stares at him for what feels like a long time. As the seconds tick by, James feels himself falter, trying not to visibly squirm in the thick silence. 

“I have your number. I’ll call you,” Regulus says, words as clipped an efficient as his photography. Then, before James can begin to feel pleased, Regulus is turning around and heading out the door, leaving James feeling dizzy and flustered and wound up. He wants to kiss Regulus senseless, wants him under his hands, wants to make him laugh, and take him apart. 

But Regulus has put the power in his own hands, so for now James will have to wait. Which is not a skill he has yet managed to master. 

Fuck. 

James Potter as an underwear model and Regulus Black as his photographer

Give regulus a chance to let him stare avidly

Regulus ‘can I take a close up please’ Black

James ‘do you want me to just take them off for you it might be easier’ Potter

am I right or am I right folks

[sentinelq]

Ticklish attitude adjustment

She warned him not to go through with it. You can't remodel your own home just like that, who knows what you'll destroy or collapse.

As usual, the advice went into one ear and left out the other. He had finally drilled an opening big enough for a small window from the house to the garage. He widened it forcefully, too lazy to take the long trip around.

Drill in hand, his arms upright, his upper body barely made it to the other side before getting stuck, his chest facing the ceiling. Panic made him drop the drill, thankfully without accident.

"See? You never listen to me, what if you had been alone? What if the drill fell on your arm or face?"

"Yeah, yeah, just go around and give it to me, I'll widen the hole and get out."

Having had enough of his attitude, always taking her for granted and knowing she'd always dampen his failures, she decided a punishment was in order. Several refusals to fully admit to his mistake, without excuses, later, she swiftly took off to give him the drill and be done with this mess.

"Oh you just know sooo much better, huh? That's why you're stuck like this?"

Seeing him in this state, somewhat crouched, arms and head clean through yet exposed from the armpits and below, gave her an idea.

The dragging sound of a heavy chair confused him. "Just making myself comfortable throughout this ordeal" she said. He felt the cold steel of scissors cut off his white shirt, hands undoing his belt buckle and lowering his pants. And everything that comes with them.

"What are you fu-"

"If you're not going to learn by yourself, I'll teach you what happens when you don't have a person to make up for your mistakes 24/7"

She grabbed two decorational goose feathers, long and stiff. Dragging them across his ribs, she asked "What do we say when we've made a mistake?" Caught off guard, sudden snorts and squeaks came out the sound echoing throughout the garage.

"No, I don't believe it's that. Try again." Twirling the feathers right inside his armpits, she broke the dam. Desperate, howling laughter filled both the garage and house. In her newfound excitement over this situation, she let the feathers continue to explore his defenceless underarms. Knowing he couldn't take it. Knowing he couldn't utter a single word, therefore giving her the "justification" to continue,

She enjoyed being in an authoritative position. It excited her, so much so after a very long seeming 10 minutes of tickle torture, she knew exactly how it'd go down.

He shouted in anger. His behavior was "corrected". No stops, no breaks, no bargaining. Just his body flailing, defenceless against the feathers sneaking underneath his pinned arms.

A smile slowly creeping upon her lips, she had the perfect idea. 2 minutes full of desperate pleas later, she had taped his legs together. Sitting in her chair, she grabbed a feather and brought it down from his armpits to his ribs, to his belly, to his hips... and lower. At first, she extracted laughter, soon followed by a realization that no amount of begging would change.

"If you're going to act like a testosterone fueled caveman, I'll treat you like the animal you are." His legs taped together, the feather's strokes inevitably revealed the rapidly growing bulge. Passing the feather up and down, she condescendingly proclaimed that she'd "get those hormones out" of him.

The laughter started. He couldn't hold it back, it grew and grew in intensity, along with his feathered cock. She was sitting in her chair, scrolling through random social media apps while dragging that stiff, soo stiff, yet so soft thing up and down his increasingly wet shaft.

As his masculine needs were being coo'd out of him, he couldn't help but surrender those needy sounds, mixing with the laughter and echoing across the garage.

His giggles and moaning had taken a more submissive turn. "Gooood boy." she complimented him. Her ruthless demeanor finally shown in the taming of her hormone fuelled slave, she would build him up until he could no longer take it, taunting him with emasculating baby talk ", who's my strong man? Yes, you are, so strooong. Coochie coochie coo, let it allll out" the elongation of words accompanied by the dragging of her instrument across his own.

The cruelty of her taunts, "Theeere you go baby, let it allll out" finalized in that she would ticklishly stroke his glans to the point where he'd almost explode, just to baby him down to precumming, then start the process all over again. Him screaming "PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEFUAHAHAPLEAHAHA" Only to be met with laughter and giving him no pressure, she merely carefully applied the feather's tip at just the right spots to soak his cock in his impotent pre-cum yet again. "Theeere you gooo, we're gonna leak all that testosterone out."

"So you can think better."

Who knows how long this went on. One thing is for certain. She enjoyed that long afternoon very much.

*Inspired by a gif from PolarbearNSFW

[bonesandthebees]

I thought you might enjoy this very funny coincidence on my dash

omg what a perfect coincidence on the dash

but also that post is very true!!! there's so many perfumes out there in such a wide range of prices, you absolutely do not need to be dropping hundreds to try out some fun scents. something else I've learned through getting into the fragrance community is that there are a ton of third party seller sites dedicated to selling samples of specific perfumes in case you can't find free samples of fragrances you're interested in. the prices of these samples vary based on the website/how expensive a full bottle of the perfume is so sometimes you are still being overcharged for a 1 mL sample but it's a fun way to try fragrances you wouldn't get to try out otherwise

like for ages I kept hearing about this incredible spicy vanilla perfume from yves saint laurent that I wanted to smell so badly, but it's actually next to impossible to find in the US so it's not like I could just go to a perfume counter and test it. also, a full bottle (at the time) was over $300 (though now I think they reduced it so it's closer to $250? I'd have to double check). I ended up ordering a 1 mL sample of it off of a third party site for, like, $10. overpriced for 1 mL? kind of yeah. but better than spending $300 on a full bottle yknow? now it's my special occasion perfume. I've worn it a few times and I still have plenty left. also, now I know that I don't need a full bottle of it because I love it, but I don't love it enough to spend that much on it.

(if anyone is interested I'd be happy to list some of the sites I've ordered from/heard of and also some fragrances I've tried out myself)

[skyfallscotland]

Onyx Storm, by Rebecca Yarros ⚡️

She was the first to choose me, to elevate me above all others, the first to see every ugly side of me and accept it all, and every single person in this fucking canyon will die before they remove a single one of her scales.

Oh boy, here we go. This is probably going to be the longest review I've done (as it should be, I suppose) and I think I'm going to have to separate my likes and dislikes into separate posts and link them, just to at least try and be more concise.

To be completely honest, I didn't really enjoy the book all that much. When I finished it I just felt confused, empty, and completely overwhelmed. I cried.

It might sound a little stupid to other people, but I think if you've lived with depression, you know how much stock you can end up placing in the little things like this, and your hobbies and obsessions, and what you pour your time and energy into.

So it's hard when you don't enjoy things as much as you expect to. I didn't have lofty expectations for the book at all, in fact I had no clear idea of what exactly I was expecting plot-wise, but I did expect to really like it. A lot of small things piled up to make this unenjoyable for me at times as an experience and I'm having a bit of a hard time with that.

It's not even the book itself, so much as the fact that I kind of feel like I'm the only one who didn't love it, on the outside looking in at a fandom I’ve given a lot for, and worse, that it's killed my drive to write anything for the universe at all.

Overall, and this is my biggest problem, I feel stupid. So many things did not make sense to me. I finished this book feeling like I no longer understand the world building, the foreshadowing, the characters—nothing.

It didn't feel like a cohesive story, there was a lot of info-dumping and more than a handful of threads picked up and pulled on, and never looked at again. I don't have the answers to questions I've had for years, I only have new questions, and a lot of things that happened well...they don't actually matter at all. You could pick a bunch of things and pull them out of the story and the end result will be the same.

Someone on Goodreads said "Onyx Storm felt like a kid lost in a supermarket trying to find their mother." And wow, yeah. Yeah, it did. We went down all the aisles, every single one, and in the end we left without the groceries.

I feel almost like I need to apologise to Iron Flame, because really, her issues feel negligible to me now, in my personal experience. At least then I understood what the hell was going on.

Is this a chicken and egg scenario? Am I the idiot? Even if I am the idiot, should it be written in a way that idiots understand? Because I do not understand, Rebecca. I'm lost.

There just wasn't consistency.

There was no 'kill your darlings' in this book. It felt like there was a lot of fan service, and honestly it really felt like someone had gone onto the subreddit, grabbed a bucket of every theory ever mentioned and then went 'oops' and dropped it all in.

I feel like we shouldn't be learning about how magic works in the second half of book three. You're over 400k words in and you're going to choose now to tell me the dragons actually don't have their own magic? You told me in book one and two that they did. And now they're just four-legged venin?

None of this would be as big of an issue if it was news to Vi, but it's not. We're constantly just having things she apparently knew this whole time dropped on us with zero explanation over and over and over again. If you want to keep things from the reader, write in third person.

I spent half the book going back and re-reading things because I just didn't understand what was going on. Maybe it’s the OCD, maybe I'm an over-thinker, maybe I'm just dumb, but that kind of thing doesn't do it for me, it seems unbalanced and illustrates a lack of continuity from book to book.

In terms of characterisation, I wanted a more badass Vi and I got her, but it feels like there's a massive character development gap missing between 'I don't want to even know the truth in case you hurt me again' and 'I'm going to poison someone, blackmail them, and threaten their children.' Did they deserve it? Sure, but it felt out of place to me.

I've made another post here with the things that frustrated me and the questions I still have, and one here with all the things I did love. Because there were things. There were times I smiled, and laughed, and cried, and quotes I adore.

Ultimately though, my rating for this (on my personal scale) is it’s a good book, it just didn’t do it for me.

And personally? I really really wish it had 🥺❤️‍🩹

[anachronisticcrab]

Disclaimer: Don't like? don't read, don't engage. More in an edited section at the bottom of the post.

Tell me why my roommate is kinda aphobic and started crying when I call them out on it ONCE

So we had a stupid argument (so dumb. But also not cause it's based in him being aphobic) over him shipping Jayvik in arcane.

My issues with this (I have not seen arcane nor will I watched it cause one of the characters has my dead name and it makes me uncomfy to hear it seen and spelled the same way, this is just what I have learned through ppl who have seen it)

Viktor is asexual canonically. Like from the creators mouth, he has been ace and possibly aro since the beginning. Everyone that I see that ships them draws Jayce and Viktor fucking. Leave him alone, he's an ace guy, I have like 3 and u gays have 5 million twinks to draw getting railed

Jayvik shippers often draw art in ways that comes across as ableist, pedophilic and infantalizing of Viktor. It's always big huge Jayce carrying around a teeny tiny Viktor and it bothers me. (Lots of ships do this, it's always weird and gross. I'm not pretending I've never enjoyed that art, cause it's sometimes really well drawn, but it's still a little creepy and ableist) ((Edit: not calling Jayvik pedophilic in canon, I'm saying the way that I've seen shippers treat them as 'Big strong man and tiny fragile uwu boy' comes across as pedophilic to me))

This is the big one: Jayce is Viktors allegorical rapist. The scene where Viktor does, Jayce throws him into a void and forever changes Viktors body and life without his consent because Jayce thought it would fix him. Very powerful as a disabled plot line of able bodied people doing things to a disabled body in order to 'fix' them, but gets even more powerful with Viktor being ace. An allo character does something to an ace characters body without their consent, forever changing their life, because they thought it would 'fix' them is an allegory for corrective rape. It's corrective rape. Don't ship Viktor with his allegorical rapist.

So those are my issues. I've talked to a few ppl about it, my roommate included. They know my opinion on it, just not the details cause he has a habit of crying his eyes out whenever he's criticized and I don't have the energy to deal with a grown man bawling his eyes out all the time.

The only thing I've ever said to him was an argument we got in where he said that making Viktor ace was infantalizing disabled bodies and I got pissed at him and he cried

Today, my roommate decided to show me and 2 friends of ours fanart of Jayvik, with the weird size dynamic and Jayce carrying Viktor around and I said 'how is that not infantalizing but him being ace is?'

My roommate agreed, and then I started talking about how that, and the allegorical rape, made it awful to ship Jayce and Viktor and I said 'leave the aces alone, we don't ask a lot'.

Tell me why he shut down and then began crying, so I left the room cause I'm not apologizing for telling him to keep his aphobia in check, and when I came back he left and hasn't said a word since.

Tell me why I have to shut up when he says it's funny to see attractive characters as sexless cause its an inherently humiliating quality, that making someone disabled asexual is infantalizing and gross, that the few ace characters there are are definitely fucking each other cause they're human, when he says aphobic things 10 times a day, but he gets to cry when I call him out on that?

Plus now I feel guilty cause my friends keep shooting me looks since I'm not apologizing, and when they started trying to placate him I was quiet other than to say 'not just about you, but like. Yeah' l

Why are allo people the way they are?

Edit: I've updated the tags to remove arcane and anti Jayvik, ppl were right that I shouldn't have added them to begin with. In my defense for anti Jayvik, I didn't know u needed hyphens in tags now for it to work properly, I'm not really active on tumblr these days. Secondly, Just so y'all know. I don't feel like arguing with allo people anymore cause I spend so much of my time catering to allo people. If you're upset, don't read. If u comment upset about me being pissed at allo people for an opinion that I'm objectively correct on, I will be blocking you immediately cause that's how the internet works. Don't like, don't engage. Leave me alone, this is a vent post cause I'm sick of allo people being stupid Third, not claiming that this is my roommate being aphobic. Of all the things he's done, this is one of the least aphobic, it's just still frustrating. This post is mostly because he can't take any criticism on anything without crying and it's irritating, especially when I call him out on questionable behaviour. Fourth, do NOT try to educate me, a fucking aroace person, on aroace terminology and realities. I am aware that not all ace ppl are aro and that not all aro ppl are ace and that ace ppl and aro ppl both can date and fuck. I know that shit. That's not what this is about. Fuck off. Fifthly, no I have not watched arcane, I say that so early on in the original part of this post. I will not watch arcane, this post isn't really about arcane. It's a vent post about my roommate not being able to handle me pointing out that their mindset and the way they view things is aphobic. This is not an attack of arcane, it's an attack of people refusing to listen to aroace ppl when we raise concerns. Such as a number of ppl in the comments did within an hour of me posting this. Lastly, I'm not saying you can't ship JayVik, do whatever you fucking want. I'm saying that I have issues with it as a ship, and I am irritated at my roommate for immediately crying and running off when I tried to raise my concerns and opinions on the relationship, the concerns I have coming from the place of an aroace person who is fed up with them being blatantly aphobic in other contexts and things that they say. Update TL;DR: Don't like? Don't read, don't engage. Not for you. If you try to argue with me, you will be blocked cause I don't have time for that shit. This is a vent post, not an attack on fucking anyone and the opinion of one random tumblr user has no affect on you or your favourite show. There are more important things to yell at ppl for.

[sonicthehedgehoglover2]

Hello, it's your favorite anon, with new ideas for this AU with the Player. Small ideas, Angst, and other delights of existence. But everything is as usual. So. We know that in ISAT everything that happens on the screen is canon, And profiles and buttons, and the tutorial, and how everything affects the world, and levels and problems … And I thought. Why not make the "PLAYERS" canon for this world? just some entities that are not very well known but in principle there were some records about it? those who are known by many names. In short, just curious entities that whether you want it or not but will lead you to your goal. And now it just sometimes … Happens? (Perhaps also known as ending expressions? or something like that?) and people have heard something about these someone who will lead you through everything … And apparently they like to run? (and the price for this help that they provide are quite such nightmares, in which you see how everything could go wrong? (And in fact, people just replay the game to get easter eggs, or favorite fights …) So very dubious someone, but sometimes necessary … And they can also be scared off if you acknowledge their existence so they are also quite timid????????) And I just … thought a little, because even the presence of the player for ISAT siffrin can be explained with the help of Wishcraft. asked for help? Get help! And Loop is here to help! … Yes, Stardust will now not be able to dodge accusations that he is the favorite of the Universe. …I can now imagine a classic post canon fic where Siffrin has to come to terms not only with the fact that it's finally over, but also with the loss of two of his closest comrades who were with him throughout his cycles (imagine Siffrin was given the option to use a knife but never used it on himself, but also didn't give it up when Loop offered to remove the feature??? I don't know, I just think it's a bit of an underused feature) And just… try to imagine what it's like to have someone who can't communicate with you, but if you know they're there, you can sense their intentions? And just… What must it feel like to lose that constant presence in the back of your mind? What must it feel like to… lose that color whose name you never bothered to learn? … And of course, their whole canonical longing for Loop (an entity not an event). I don't know, it's just… there's something that particularly fascinates me about the concept of the player as something not entirely pleasant… But not absolute evil either. Just… Something alive. Something to miss. Something… worth remembering. Yeah. I'm going into uninvited worldbuilding again. Oh well. Let's enjoy this uninvited worldbuilding while it lasts) (i sorry for lacking of structure... i just afraid that if i will add structure, this post will ends up being eaten and non exsisting)

I very much want Players to be canon. I like the idea of them being associated with the Universe - or a part of the Universe itself - that have a whole backstory and everything. Like, helping those who are lost or something like that.

I feel Siffrin's feelings for the Player, specifically, depends on the actions of the Player. (You know just like in Undertale where you're able to alter the ending to the game and your relationship with other characters based on your actions). If you're nice, in a way, to Siffrin, then he's more likely to see you as friendly. But say, for example - and definitely not something I might write in the future - the Player chooses to have Siffrin use the dagger a lot, even when there's better options near by. Or, if the Player refuses to let Siffrin make his own choices every now and then. Siffrin may feel that the Player seems them as an object.

But, if the Player does the "right" thing, then Siffrin may, as you say, view them as someone to miss when everything's over.

Also, I do like your thoughts. You're welcome to worldbuild on this as much as you like.

[nebulanewts]

i am curious, what do you think of the whole sifas lanzhu thing that some people seem to not be able to get over -- with her forcibly disbanding the idol club and such to make her association? ill be honest and say i last watched those stories when i was like. 14/15, so my memory of it might be a bit off, but i dont think it was as awful as people seem to think. it was just love live taking their steps to having a more proper antagonist, and people simply werent used to that (honestly, i cant think of the lanzhu thing negatively, as shes probably the reason im still into love live) also, from what ive heard of liella s3 and such (still havent watched it... bad at motivating myself to do things even when i wanna do them), i feel like if anyone enjoys the modern love live groups, they have to thank niji (well, mainly shioriko/lanzhu, i think) for doing the experimentation that allowed the franchise to do what its currently doing

Hey,I hope you know this is something I think about often bc to this day it’s still confusing to me like yeah not everyone is gonna like Lanzhu and that’s okay but the way ppl acted like she was the absolute worst for… *checks notes* wanting friends?? Still baffles me like yeah she could’ve handled it a lot differently but it’s not like she knew better at the time 🤷‍♀️ showing off how cool and perfect she is is all she knows,so that’s what she did!! But guess what? She eventually learns that that doesn’t always work and slowly becomes friends w/ the Niji girls! She changes!! Again I can see why one wouldn’t like her but the initial reaction WAS kind of a lot

TL:DR: Zhong Lanzhu was not evil,just misguided and ppl’s reaction also confused me (also without giving any spoilers,Superstar s3 is very good ^^)