#((sorry this was so late! ive been sort of busy!))

[barnacles34]

Mr. Rager, Can I Tag Along?

Part I

Synopsis: Mr. Rager finally joins the birds in the skies. Dedicated to the song Mr. Rager by Kid Cudi.

tags: 8k, smut, so much romance, fluff, addiction, recovery, virgin Ryujin

Ryujin x Male OC

CHAPTER I: 

You might hear the birds singing flying around,

You never see them too long on the ground,

You wanna be one of them, yeah.

Cocaine toxicity. Solipsism finally vindicated. He was going to die—truly. That cloudy feeling of mind and body separation, as if the ribbons of heaven had finally let him grasp their reins, swaying him toward some version of forever happiness.

Mmmm.

He thought he’d care about dying right there in the nightclub. The shame of weakness, of collapsing with foam at the corners of his mouth—he’d truly thought he’d care more about it. But now, one worry gone, he was worriless. Life had its charm, but it wasn’t for him; he’d been walking on sticks until the very end. Now, the floor felt so right. His body sank into it, slipping slowly, as if turning to slime and merging back into the earth.

Each second, his grip over his fingers weakened, a constant slackening with every passing moment. His eyelids grew heavy, and the outline of the nightclub around him blurred. He couldn’t control his fingers anymore; he was truly sinking. When would heaven begin? When would this fantasy end? Mind-death, a complete and utter submission to the lifeless realm - he’d never recover.

The faint tingling of powder lingered at the rim of his nostrils. At least, he’d had a good high - a nice ecstasy haze along the fine columbian - before dying. Finally, his eyes closed, nerves shutting down, and he felt free, unchained from his body like a ghost.

"Stay with me!" A voice, deep and feminine.

Hm?

"Don’t close your eyes!" Again, that voice.

What?

Whatever. It was too late anyway.

"How many fingers am I holding up!?" Still images flashed through his fading consciousness, fingers held up just before his face, barely visible, though he couldn’t tell how many anyway.

"What’s your name?" He couldn't place a face on the voice, but it was distinctly feminine - separate from his inner voices.

They were trying so hard. If they’d responded any faster, he might’ve been forced to go back - to life.

Go back…

Did he want to go back?

Hell.

Mr. Rager - that’d be a good name, he thought. If he were reborn, given another chance, that’s who he’d be.

"Mr. Rager!"

What? Could the paramedic hear him?

"Mr. Rager! Come back! Fight back! Don’t go off on an adventure!"

—

Flash. Eyes open. He was alive - he was… alive.

"Mr. Rager. You’re okay; don’t make any sudden movements." A soft, padded palm rubbed his forehead with a gentle, compassionate touch. He looked up. A young woman, petite yet strikingly beautiful, looked back at him.

"What’s your name?" he asked, despite himself. Still a bachelor, after all. "My name is Ryujin." She was dressed in a way he couldn’t quite place, something different from what he expected. "I’m part-time, by the way," she said, noticing his confused look. "That’s why my clothes are different." He rubbed his forehead; it was pounding, but with a distant sort of ache, incongruous with a proper headache. “What the hell happened?” he asked, properly confused. “You went into shock, someone already administered naloxone to your body, thankfully; otherwise, you would’ve-” she abruptly bit her tongue, preventing herself from talking about a potentially sensitive topic that Mr. Rager was subjected to.

“And, by the way, this was my first call ever.” A subtle transition, a conversation starter.

He blinks, trying to relieve the soreness in his eyes, “God, I’m sorry, this is such a fucking shitty situation.” And the way he said it, that emotional self-deprecation.

She might’ve realized something, “Were you trying to commit suicide?” She asked, very bluntly.

“It’s none of your business. Thank you for the hospitality, I’ll be taking my leave now.” When he tried to take the IV fastened to his vein, Ryujin softly, with the firmest grip and tone, said, “You’re going nowhere.”

All Mr. Rager could think of were cuss words, cusses against the world, against destiny to be alive for the foreseeable future. 

A resolve to suicide is the moment the mind, at the cusp of mind-death, truly enters a dead mind. The inescapable rock-bottom, a self-fulfilling prophecy where one feels truly and utterly fastened to the floor - inhibited of all its freedoms, its happiness.

–

Mr. Rager, or better known as Min amongst his peers - not friends. At the hands of his peers, Mr. Rager sustained a traumatic head injury that tormented him with chronic migraines right from the start of it all - the drunk brawl, that he decisively lost in, at just the age of 17. 

See, Mr. Rager had not a single family member except his aunt who embezzled all the funds Rager’s parents left for him. And the last time he tried to talk with his aunt was when he sustained a knife wound on his forearm from her - a deeply tormented individual, she was locked in a home-made cage for most of her adolescence.

And, unfortunately, there’s not a single time where his life is measurably better than the year before - only getting worse until the overdose.

–

Ryujin didn’t inquire further, she was hoping somewhat that her presence might help Mr. Rager. She sat next to Mr. Rager, her hand still on the side of the hospital bed, feeling its soft fabric. Mr. Rager, still irritated, asked, “Why are you still here?”

“Cause I want to be here.” A joking undertone, perfectly acted out. In truth, Ryujin pitied him so much, her first patient, a successful businessman who tried to kill himself at the age of 29 - now that’s fucking rare, usually the cases accelerate at the age  of 50 or so.

“Why’d you take this job?” 

She replied, “Artistic inspiration.”

“Hm, fantastic idea by the way.” He was sincere about it.

“Thanks.”

“Do you have enough material now?”

“Oh. Plenty. Plenty enough.” She giggled.

“What if I don’t consent to my likeness being represented in your art - medium, whatever?”

“Mr. Rager, don’t you worry, I’ll refurbish it so much that it'll be closer to the likeness of… let’s say… me.”

“Quit the teasing,” he stated, straight to the point.

“I don’t want to.” She replied back, he was one of the few people where teasing seemed to genuinely improve their immediate well-being, and for someone like Mr. Rager - it’s huge. And, he was finally laying, no longer trying to plan an escape, on the flatbed, staring at the ceiling, observing the music player. “By the way, is this music player provided to everyone recovering?” He’s not one to mix words.

“You’re pretty smart.” She replies, a confirmation, fiddling with her torn skirt, presumably from rushing into her para-medic role.

“That’s what I owe you for?”

“Mhm.” Still fiddling, a pouty sort of face formed on her face, it was her favorite skirt.

“How do you want the debt paid?” He inquired, he’s one to never ignore the nascent attachment to his favorite items - thus, he understands: the exorbitant value placed on favoritisms. “I dunno. You’ll still owe me. Big Time.” She stared back, this time, their eyes entwined with a sort of friendliness that is almost, just almost, ethically wrong in hospital circumstances.

“Very well then.” His tired eyes kept pulling on his eyelids. Genuine sleep had seemed to completely take over his body, and yeah, that’s all the meds he’s under: naloxone, antibiotics, withdrawal medicine, and a lovely dose of morphine. “I feel new.” His voice was dozing as his intra-reflection began. As he nodded off, he felt the faint grasp of her hand, so small, yet filled with so much conviction. He’s tripping balls, but she’ll never tell him - presence was what was required of her.

And that was all the validation he needed: for sleep.

As Mr. Rager finally slept; Ryujin stayed for a bit, or about 4 hours. And, still, she’s sitting beside him - making sure that he sleeps and recovers. Just from the chance encounter of a paramedic call, she felt the compulsion to guard Mr. Rager. Poor girl, if she’d seen a dead body for her first call then she’d vomit a week’s worth onto the ground. 

After another hour, Ryujin finally decided it was time to leave. She wrote a thoughtful letter, of things that needn’t be said - obviously. But she also left a partition, finagling a creative way to demand what she’s owed. After, she let her boss know that she quit on the spot, that she’d also come back to the same room - a reservation of some sort. She left, leaving the stale, minty air of the hospital with a melancholy that wouldn’t be fixed until she saw him again. Because, when she was writing the note, she wished she asked more questions - Mr. Rager just seemed to lead on the conversation to a charming degree, that other circumstances were of lesser importance. 

Ryujin, outside, breathing in the fresh air of the summer, caught the last bus of the route. This route, passing by the road that she was taken on inside the paramedic van, also led to her apartment. Unfortunately, it’s an old, decrepit apartment where only the rudest sort of parties happen. Half the time, the floor above is vibrating thump, thump, thump from the heavy jumps, or the lower floor blasts some of the most needlessly, eardrum-breaking music.

At least she has solitude. Finally free from the dictates of those she didn’t get along with, finally separated from her friends who’d get too boring if she hung along for too long. Now, her family is charming - easy to get along with; now, her friends are always interesting - fascinating to be around. Distance is a marinating technique, or whatever.

Ryujin, the charming shut-in, finally arrived at her place, and began on her art piece. Unfortunately, there’s nothing to list that’s positive about her obsession with art. It’s the time where she vents her frustrations of being a failed trainee - rather, a placement that was restricted from becoming an idol; wallows in the misery of the color tone she loves the most: dark; and, to top it off, she gets bored of visual arts when she tries to make money off of it. Some dastardly sign from the man above, “Your hobby will stay a hobby.”

All that displeasure would be the paint upon the canvas: checkmate, mental turmoil turns to art, she thought. Swipe and swipe, the dirty colored watercolor painting had nearly no form worth thinking - almost entirely brown from the intermixing of the wet, damp color. Then the second layer, an apparition of segmentation, a deeper color, colors that entice and bite back. Then the specificity of the lines, things left unspecified were on purpose. But, this recurring thought, this pounding idea, that she left a man that fell in the depths of the void alone - really began digging into her soul. This thought unto Ad Nauseam brought her nausea that really can’t be eliminated with the will of her conscience. “I should’ve stayed, I should’ve stayed” - the recurrent thoughts that never seemed to leave her. With a sad howl, she fell to the side, crying deep, ruining all her pretty into the sheets - a room so small that her chair was the bed.

–

“I’m still alive”, Mr. Rager repeated this to himself over and over after waking up - not sure whether to feel some sort of rendered triumph. For a moment, he was truly tip-toed in the void, almost encased into the endless hope, of unrendered reality and a horrible sadness; now, he’s alive, breathing, with a full control of his body.

Nothing had caught his attention, the environment, whether there were people around him or not, only life as he knew it - coursing through his veins. The feeble thumps of his chest - his heart, still persevering.

–

Several days of this sort of morning locomotion went on, it was also the time that Ryujin came over. Poor girl brought over new confectionaries - mostly of her favorites; brought lunch boxes she herself fully funded; found ways to amuse herself and Mr. Rager during the listless hours.

“What’s the interest rate of this debt? Surely, a person like me, fastened to the bed with belts (a pure exaggeration), wouldn’t be extorted with dubious rates?”

“Mr. Rager, you’ll have to declare bankruptcy by the end of it, seriously. You owe me. Big time.” She joked back, of course, she didn’t really expect much. By her own goodwill, Ryujin was looking after Mr. Rager, an exchange of her goodwill would almost sour all her community service - again, a flash of her trait, a blithely weak trait in modern society, a subtle revulsion to being paid for her services.

Mr. Rager, however, was the opposite. Rogue-man, Rager man, Mr. Rager, a name that fits him so closely, from the early onset of consciousness, an unruly rebelliousness coursing through his veins at all times, with flourish - with the crimonest red. He’s done it all, disowning his billionaire politician parents, who still relish the thought of meeting Mr. Rager one day; losing all his wealth, gaining it back the next; then, enjoying it all on a single roulette wheel, then forgiving the casino when they couldn’t pay his winnings; and then dying for a few seconds, under the angelic influence of the so-called hellish “nose candy”. But for his closure, his preference—he’s pastless, futureless.

That’s the dilemma, Ryujin hadn’t learned a single thing about Mr. Rager that was worth pulling a strand on. Contradictory statements only confounded her further, and a reply to her joke - of bankruptcy and debt - he’d say, “I’d have to find it buried somewhere.” And she’d think, “What? What the hell? What’s buried? What’s ‘it’ ?”

Often the thought was interrupted, never fully leaving its conception—Mr. Rager wanted to keep it that way. Ryujin, often on her phone, never leaving her eyes off Mr. Rager, spent her delicate hours in the breezy, spacious hospital room.

Mr. Rager, of course alarmed, would ask - every day - “why do you visit so often?”

Then, Ryujin, really not knowing an answer, would default to a bland answer of so and so - real political talk. This procession, of nothing happening, stretching on for days was repetitive. It also made them happy. She’d put on her makeup, with her artsy hands - quick and fast. The rapidity with which she approached this situation, so contrary to all the aspects of her life - seemingly, Mr. Rager had brought vitality to Ryujin.

And in comes the day of withdrawal, the hospital withdrawal - where Ryujin and Mr. Rager resided comfortably. The door clicked softly as the nurse entered; simultaneously, Ryujin and Mr. Rager’s hairs stood up - what are they alarmed for? It was not, the nurse, no, absolutely not, the nurse was jovial, happy, thinking that she was delivering happy news.

She didn’t know that both of them found their only sources of joy inside this hospital. The nurse thought that she was relieving them of a most ludicrous bill, by ending it as soon as possible - as this hospital in particular, charges in hours, yeah, real dystopian shit. And so, it was a surprise when both the people had an almost disdainful stare towards her - it’s just my imagination, the nurse thought.

–

“Are you sure? You know overdraft schedules cost significantly more?” The nurse asked, confused, concerned.

“Yeah, yeah, I just want to stay here for one more day.” Mr. Rager replied.

“But, but - do you have any ailment? That’ll bring down the price.” 

“None at all, I just want to stay here for another day more.”

Rich people are nuts, the nurse, still, complied, letting him stay, leaving him for another day.

–

As the day progressed, Ryujin came back, again, in the evening. “Your schedule, how do you do that?” Mr. Rager was genuinely impressed with how Ryujin utilized her time, imagine his surprise when she just says, “I just skipped some stuff.”

“Alright, well, thanks for coming.” And that got Ryujin thinking, was this his first time thanking me? Which, in fact, did make her day. And, she wouldn’t dare challenge this once in a lifetime behavior - that’d be a quick way for that behavior to be stashed away, forever. Again, as soon as she entered, the atmosphere changed. 

It’s about damn time they understand the euphoric peacefulness they rouse for each other. And, today was one of the moments where Mr. Rager gives a slight glimpse of his life - the confounding ones that really led to nowhere. “I think my aversion to alcohol comes from the fact that I had kids with this chick, married this chick, bought a mansion for us to live in - and, only too late, realized that it was really the alcohol that talked.”

Ryujin’s heart sank, “what? You have kids?”

“Not anymore, don’t have custody over them anymore.” He was so unbothered, utterly unbothered.

“I’m sorry for asking, just curious—what happened to them?”

He chuckled, “No more personal questions after this, alright?”

She nodded, her beady eyes on full alert. The pillow that she borrowed from the hospital bed, on her lap. She was intently listening from the comfortable armchair. 

“I let her take the kids, she didn’t ask for alimony or anything like that—just that, on the condition that I don’t contact them ever again.” He stared at the ceiling, sorting some of it out, not sure if it was some traumatic experience. Nevertheless, he continued, “she found me unbearable after a while, and I found her unbearable as well. I was never there too: too busy with money. She probably didn’t chase after alimony because she already had a sweetheart - with money - to get back to.” With so much ease, as if he’d been through too many lifetimes - too many he can remember.

“Oh,” that’s it, that’s all the reaction she can give.

“Oh, what’s with that reaction?” He chuckled.

“I-I’msorryIdon’treallyknow-” she paused, “Hey! You’re being so annoying today.”

“Sometimes, a flipped script - like teaser gets teased - leads to masterpieces.”

“Any examples?”

“Nah, I just made it up.”

From then on, the conversations continued; the deep introspective pauses continued, listlessly; and both began to feel the drowsy effect of the combination of warm light and black-out curtains.

And a tired Mr. Rager loves beauty. 

“Ryujin.”

“Hm?” She looked back, staring at him with her doe eyes.

“You’re like marijuana.” One can say he has a way with words.

“What?” Her brows stitched in confusion.

“You’re fucking amazing to have around. But, I swore to never, nev-” He fell into a deep sleep, so contrary to his habits: he’s never fallen asleep with his own mind’s permission.

Her doe-like eyes opened farther open. Her heart began beating listlessly, skipping beats. I’ve got to leave, before I-. Yet she magneted closer to the bed, where Mr. Rager slept so peacefully. Did I do that? He’s always complaining about sleeping, yet- yet he slept so easily. She was making up all sorts of situations, scenarios, theories - none of them healthy for the mind.

And, before she knew it, under the bright moonlight radiating into the room, gentle shadows across his face, she leaned closer, letting her soft lips touch the peak of his cheekbone, causing shivers across her spine, and she thought fuck, fuck, I’m really doing it - and when that wasn’t enough - then his forehead, feeling the warmth radiating from his forehead on her lips. But no more, that’d be too much, too much.

Under her own shame, her bright flush cheeks, her dilated pupils, twin pools of dark moons: she quickly left the room, carrying all her stuff such that it’d be guaranteed to fall in the middle of the hallway, a real mess she made of herself.

CHAPTER II: 

Keep movin' forward, keep movin' forward

I'm so-I'm so reborn, I'm movin' forward

Along the way home, the realization washed over her like a molotov flame - its gentle but fiery shimmer covering the entirety of her body. And the way her heart pumped, any performative act she could do to stop it was useless - ultimately doing nothing, nada, zilch. The sound of his roaring laughter from her jokes, the curve of his smile, the messy stubble, god, she was really losing it inside the bus. Her every thought, motion, every constriction of her body - pulse and all - was consumed by him. Her legs rubbed together desperately, and the slightest, faintest moan left her quivering lips as she let her imagination go wild. 

And the fact that… that an elderly lady was behind her, judging her provocative movements, just nudged her on further - full on deviant shit.

As soon as she’d be home, she’d have a towel under her.

–

Fortunately, past the hospital departure, they wanted to see each other again - platonically. However, it’s been days, and though that may seem quite short, they’ve never been separated for more than 12 hours. 

And these days, these listlessly long days, let Ryujin know of her sympathetic entanglement, and, seemingly intensifying it. Ryujin, with her sore body, stared at Mr. Rager’s phone number on her phone - the curves of the numbers kept reminding her of everything she thought about days before (the curves of the numbers some dubious correlation with Mr. Rager). She’s about to do it again, two fingers, knuckle-deep, into her folds until she’s a drooling mess on the bed. She was already a mess to begin with, a crook in her neck, half her bed unmade, sleep-deprived.

That isn’t to say that Mr. Rager wasn��t just as affected. He never succumbed to the pleasure of the hand, but the dreams, the wistful dreams. Imagining her close smile against him, moaning soft and goading phrases right into his ear - melodiously erotic. Her soft palms against his broad back, pressing deep - trying her best to not scratch up his back. You’re fucking me so good, mm- she’s whimpering, right on your ear, fuck, shivers throughout. Then, halt. It’s the fucking alarm.

Both awake, going through their groggy morning routines to finally meet again. Would it be as magical as it was in the hospital? Would it ever be so calm?

–

The time to meet was approaching quickly. Ryujin got ready, her perfect face, judiciously given with all her perfect talents, was colored with minimal effort, any more and she’d show off her inexperience with makeup - Mr. Rager would’ve lost it all regardless. Because, she was dressed in this tight dress, the type of dress that a girl like her deserves, expensive, ornate, sexy; but, she was a special case, she’d never worn something so ornate and so revealing, and the mirror would reflect a little doe desperately pulling on the hems that revealed her taut thick thighs, the cusp of her petite bosom, and any effort to cover was an ultimately futile effort, this was something she had come to terms with, before leaving her small studio.

And, as if she were in a Wong-Kar Wai movie, she entered the bus: all glammed out in a shitty environment. And the nervous eyes in the bus quickly looked away, intimidated heavily; still, some passengers hoped that they could get a glimpse with the spasm of their pupils to her direction - that’s how good she looked.

She sat down mindfully, crossing her legs - alarmingly aware of the stares. Her face adopted a natural blush - a face too beautiful to hide. Her eyes, set beneath her delicately arched eyebrows, stared at the reflection of herself from the wide glass. She’d never be able to understand her own beauty, too often enveloped in imposter syndrome, and the only person, Mr. Rager, would be the one, who could tell her the beauty of her cascading black hair; her large eyes, accentuated by a deep-set gaze; the beauty with which she carried herself, awkward, yet enigmatically, always, the most beautiful person in the room.

Mr. Rager, gaunt from the opioids, still looked herculean, a fitful combination that fit any clothing piece. With an androgynous face that was covered with sharp eyebrows, dark under eyes, high cheek-bones, and a sort of asymmetrical face that was almost better than the conventional symmetry: in summary, he was someone you couldn’t miss. This inherited comeliness comes with its risks, from the ease of life to the women, things that Mr. Rager succumbed to in violent fashion. Other than that, his preparation was pretty rapid, hopping into his entirely dark-tinted - for obvious reasons - car and set off into the gentle night.

Ryujin landed at the closest bus point to the meeting point. Her dress was unsuited for the weather, and her body began going frigid under a chilly summer day. That’s until a black car, a mercedes s-class, stopped ahead of her. It was nothing to be worried about, she’d just pass by it, acting as if she didn’t see it. However, the figure that exited the car was all too familiar: Mr. Rager.

“Ryujin.” Mr. Rager took a look, scanning her body - making it all too obvious with his pupils - instantly realized why he’s been thinking constantly about her - she’s just the most beautiful person.

And Ryujin, the way her knees slightly folded from seeing Mr. Rager, a slight spasm in her joints - she really missed him. And her hands crossed together between her loins, her eyes opened slightly larger.

“Don’t be so nervous.” He chuckled, that chuckle, that deep chuckle - Ryujin could feel the heat in her core. “Come in, you still have a long way to go,” she gladly accepted, entering into the car: feeling the soft seats, the fragrance of the unusual smell of vanilla and sandalwood (in a car?), and the overwhelming luxury around her surroundings.

“Be sure to dial the temperature or dial whatever you need, I’m sure you were pretty cold outside.” Mr. Rager said, aware of how Ryujin is not one to engage in something without permission - only if he knew what she’d done, the moment before she left, that day. However as he talked, all Ryujin could respond with was a chuckle, she was too focused on how the sentence sounded, how his eyes placed on her face, and occasionally, how it landed on her chest. And that was just the pinnacle for her.

He couldn't stop his gaze, this fermentation of a pending calamity was bounding closer and closer, and thrilled both parties to no end - they couldn’t even hide their own temptations behind the screen of a platonic hang out. By the seconds, the passing seconds, they got bolder, he got bolder. He let his eyes wander far down, her creamy white legs, her meticulous maintenance of it all. And Ryujin was wallowing in it all, his sharp gaze made her feel warmer, wetter - enticing her to dial down the temperature, a contrast from when she was so cold outside.

Still, they’d say nothing, despite it all. The silent hum of the tire scraping against the asphalt was all the credence, the distraction, they were allowed. The rest was this endorphin-filled, endorphin-crazed environment where both of them knew that they were pushing too quickly, given the fact that this companionship began from a suicide attempt.

Still, there’s this slip of time, where they could, possibly, love each other. Though, before these exponential entropic forces caused all sorts of calamity, they arrived at the spot. This run-down complex, that hid a quaint restaurant with private rooms, was a source of nostalgia for Mr. Rager. Ryujin followed, climbing the stairs, ascending just behind him, pulling down on her dress, sticking her thighs together as she climbed (a natural precaution). The restaurant was exactly that, quaint. They entered one of the tight-fitting cubicles, where they sat across from each other, a small sitting-table separated their bodies - unfortunately.

“Don’t be too worried about this restaurant, it may be run down, but it’s a great experience.”

“Oh, no, no, I’m not worried about that, I frequent far more run down establishments than this.” As the words left her tongue, Ryujin cringed, frequent? What am I? A prostitute? Her eyebrows knitted.

“Relax Ryujin,” he chuckled, “enjoy yourself, I’ll pay for it all.”

“That’s the first step to the debt?” Ryujin grinned, loosening, gaining her natural confidence.

“Perhaps. Come on, go crazy.” There it is, that nice toothy grin, her cheeks ripple into some sort of whiskers - god, he’d do anything for that, again and again. 

The dishes came, oily dishes full of food, and Ryujin’s eyes glazed in excitement. After a brief, too quick, moment of eating, both of them leaned back - absolutely full.

“You got a bird’s stomach for your ambition, Ryujin.”

“And you’re a head taller than me, but you’re leaning as well!”

“Good point.” He chuckled, fighting indigestion through it.

“I don’t even like oily food.”

“Me too.”

This time, a collaborative laugh.

Mr. Rager paid the meager bill, leaving all the food to rot on the table - the plight of abundance.

–

“Anything you want to do today?” Mr. Rager asked, putting on his seatbelt.

“It’s really late, I really wanted to punish your wallet, you played your cards right going out so late..” Ryujin relaxed into the seat, fully comfortable, in-tune.

“Well, if you don’t have any plans. Mind if I go the reservation for us?”

“What reservation?”

“That’d ruin the surprise, Ryujin.” The ambient sound of the tires against the ground in combination with the dark night - the darkest night before morning - was an even more intense atmosphere.

This peaceful atmosphere, intense, yet peaceful, again, just like the hospital visits. This interesting continuation of happiness, so foreign to his life, was something that he could get used to. His forearm pressed against the storage compartment, letting his hand spill over; his other arm was loosely steering, as loose as the gentle dark night. 

As he trailed the road, occasional peeks at Ryujin showed her transition to sleep: drowsy eyelids that infrequently close for periods of time, then, longer periods, then, sleep. 

Who was this angel? This angel that wrought Mr. Rager all manners of hope, of happiness, of reflection. If he hadn’t been so stubborn about his affliction towards personal information, maybe, just maybe he’d understand her more, this girl - so beautifully clad in a flowery dress.

Is this love, this elusive feeling? How could it be so cruel? So cruel as to bring it to me at a time so random, and so heavily…

Again, he forgot his bad habit: speaking his thoughts out loud.

He realized too late, and he could feel her large eyes staring at him, confused. 

Yet, and yet, he felt the gentle warmth of another palm on his forearm - a reassuring grip.

“Min, I love you too.”

CHAPTER III: No Longer Mr. Rager

I want to kiss you on your space below your navalette

The place you keep so neat, so moist like a towelette

Ryujin, her beautifully beady eyes looked at you, as she lifted your forearm, planting little kisses all over it.

“Oh Ryujin.”

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for that, Min.” A statement that left her lips as she continued worshiping his forearm.

Jesus, this woman.

He pulls into the closest parking spot, giving not a single fuck that there were a few cars there - all likely empty, anyway.

And, with all pretenses and courtesy removed, the forearm that was so judiciously worshiped, wrapped around her nape, pulling her into a searing kiss. That deep moan, that accepting moan as his mouth opened against hers. He almost forgot the most essential question - suddenly, slightly pulling away from the kiss.

“How’d you find out about my name, Ryujin?” Min asked.

“A woman doesn’t disclose her secrets, besides, how could my love not have a name?” Cheesy, feisty, what a woman.

“Good point.” Another searing kiss, dynamic, evolving, every step more depravedly romantic than the previous.

He was pretty sure that he’d break something, in the middle compartment, that separated you from total body connection. Again, you pull away, this time, it brought out a desperate whine out of her, her arms that wrapped desperately around you kept pulling you in - like a vortex.

She understood the memo as soon as he exited the car - love connection. This time, with a wider space, still constricted, was the best they could do, and they’d relish this extra space. Min, naturally assumed dominance over Ryujin, her body acclimated against his aggressive pulls and pushes - all for the pleasure of Ryujin, and she didn’t take it lightly, each breath heavy with the densest pleasure. Oh, oh, oh, keep manhandling me. She’d whisper. And he’d obey.

As Ryujin, with her tight dress, splayed against the seats on her back, took initiative to take off Min’s clothes, button-by-button. “Oh I’ll fuck you so good, Ryujin, so fucking good.” He’d repeat, over and over, and Ryujin would get more aroused by each iteration: “Yes, yes! Please.” Occasional soft bites were felt all over his collarbone, his neck, his earlobe. “Possessive little bird, I’m not going anywhere.” He caressed her head, making sure that he’d also mark her, a heavy hickey on her neck.

And Ryujin fucking loves it, she softly caresses him, soft grasps against his back, locking her taut legs around him, begging for continuations. And, Min would obey, in his own rebellious way, tightly grabbing her breasts - hidden behind the dress - then pressing kisses all over her neck, nearly all of them hickeys. 

“Fuck the reservation,” he grunted, it was an expensive reservation, but he doesn’t give a fuck: Ryujin’s right under him, begging for him to ravage her taut body. And she replies, “That’s right, that’s right, mister, master!” The end of her sentence was capitalized by Min’s heavy grasp on her breasts.

“That’s right, little bird.” Low grunts against her ears, his thick shaft, covered, grinded against her body, while his mouth assaulted hers.

And she cums, her head turns up, looking wherever - straining her neck - to release her pleasure. “Ngghhh!!!” A heavy whine, so enthusiastically human, straining against the seats that held her back. “Holy shit! That was so amazin-” enough talking, he’d motion, locking mouths together.

Silent moans, “mmmf..” hummed against his tongue, Ryujin was so turned on, and he’d love to fulfill all her wishes. Each rotation of his hip against hers were accentuated by Ryujin’s deep moan, squeaky moans, the moans that she couldn’t hide by covering her mouth. His hand, fixed onto her breasts, finally ventured below, feeling her lithe abdomen - the slightest abs - then letting his hand rest on her pelvis, just above her pussy. 

He finally released himself from the hypnotizing kiss, staring at her body - mostly still covered by the dress: now, that, won’t do. He pulled on the bottom hem of her dress, revealing her wet core, an embarrassed squeak along with it all. “You’re so fucking hot, Jesus,” he had a taste of what her body looked like, and he just can’t get enough. All precaution thrown out the window, the expensive dress was about to be ruined, and Ryujin - ever resourceful - seemed to allow it. He pulled the upper hem of the dress down, breaking the straps that could’ve been removed easily - this is a statement, I own you - Ryujin seemed to get the memo - all beady and begging.

Her soft breasts, creamy, smooth, with pink nubs spilled out from the tight dress. He pressed both his hands, all over her body, exploring the transitions from her taut skin to the scrunched dress, making sure to remember every facet of it all. “How badly do you want it?” He whispered, wholly focused on her body, subtly noticing her wet core, the outline of her pussy growing clearer by the second. And Ryujin didn’t even have to answer the question, locking her legs around his waist, frantically trying to get her hips on his covered shaft - yeah, she’s fiending for it.

And Min, ever the indulgent, gently moved and hovered his hand over her neck, waiting for that confirmation, that wink, that nod - and, Ryujin, calming down from the intense pleasure, nodded. That first grasp, tight, measuring her tolerance, measuring just the moment when the eyes go back to her eyes - and he seemed to completely pinpoint it, that slight spasm of her body, and her inner thighs are just soaked.

Finally, Min decided it’s time to give her sopping cunt some attention. Peeling the layer to the side, wet with the highest arousal, hid her bright pink core - and it, her core, was begging to be sated, pulsing, glistening, beautifully fragrant.

Firstly, he let a single finger prod, then entered. And Ryujin was already shaking, her eyes went straight to the back of her head, and her neck vascularized - all veiny - from the soft choke. It would’ve been too cruel to give her too much pleasure, so he took his hand off her throat, instead, patting her head - letting her know that she's doing so good, so good. 

In and out, motion of the ocean, slick covering his finger the deeper he went, earning the most virile moans out of her cute mouth. “You like that, huh?” He dug deeper, until his knuckle - a loud moan. She had never felt anything like this, her two fingers could never compare, and she’s a virgin after all, and she’s about to get deflowered in the backseat of a car - and, she loves it. 

In a swift motion, where Min continued his manhandling of Ryujin, he pulled his finger out - in a hook motion to agitate her g-spot, earning a girlish yelp - then, let Ryujin taste her own juices on his finger.

“You’re doing so good.” Min whispered, so overly joyed by Ryujin, how her petite body convulsed in pleasures beyond what he could ever imagine.

“I know.” Ryujin replied, defiant to the end. She knew exactly how this inspired him to be rougher - and she loves it. He gripped her waist, gripping harder, letting her firm abdomen mold against his grip, dug deeper into her cunt, placing his thumb over her engorged clit. One. Two. Three motions around her clit, three motions of his finger into her cunt - before she squirted onto the side window, far more girlish yelps, and desperate panting. This time, Min with his wet hand, spread it all over Ryujin’s face - the essence of her arousal, via his hand, spread on her face, where makeup was placed so thoughtfully, only to be ruined by her own squirt. She’s panting amidst all this, unable to process anymore than her overwhelming second orgasm. 

“You’re a fucking mess, Ryujin, cumming this quickly?”

“You made me this way…” She huffed, “you fucking brute.”

This time, all Min does is press against her pelvis - specifically, the pelvic bone, where just below is her g-spot, and the slight pressure, was absolutely deadly. All the while, he declared, “That’s right, little bird. I’ll press you against the seat, face-down, slam into your ass with all the force I can muster - then, when I’m deep, too deep, cervix-level deep, I’ll release all my cum into your precious little womb.”

“Nghhh~~!” And another squirt, where her legs closed together, toes curled, and her head hung back. While Ryujin was trying to recover, Min placed a quick and wet kiss on her lips, but that'd be the only romanticism that Min allowed her. Quickly, he let her sit up, pulling her by her thin wrists. Then, he pulled down his own pants - letting his shaft free from the restraints of his tight clothing, the painful onset of an early blue balls in its conception, that was only fuel to the fire to fuck Ryujin good, and hard.

“Sit on my lap facing me, Ryujin.” He demanded. And no matter how much Ryujin came, squirted, panted, and yelped - she’d always oblige in Min’s demands. She quickly hooked her other leg over him, in a hovered position rather than sitting. This time, he passed his fingers through her wet hair, letting it pass behind her ear, “safe word is Mimetic,” and he earned a soft nod from Ryujin, and consent to batter her sopping, wet, sticky, engorged pussy.

He slithered a hand around her waist, holding her in place; then, placed his other hand around her neck, just on the nape. He pulled her in for one last kiss. The last bit of eye contact before penetration, and all that could be seen in Ryujin’s eyes - beady and all wet from pleasure - was a fiending desire to be fucked silly.

Slowly, he let her descend, right up until his tip kissed her wet folds. She winced from her sensitivity, just from the touch. And that’s when it flashed in her eyes, she wasn’t sure if she was ready, given the fact that she hadn’t told him about her virginity. Before she could realize her thoughts through speech, she felt the intense heat of something foreign entering - something so thick and large - and it wrought every emergency signal in her brain - all of them, positive. “Oh–OH, fuck…” is all that Ryujin squeaked out before he pushed in deeper, feeling her gentle pussy wrap around his shaft - all wet and moist. A constant sizzling whisper could be heard from Ryujin as he buried his cock deeper, until, halfway in, where she let out a deep moan. “Holy fuck,” she moaned again, deeper. Holy fuck is right, her body was so resistant, tight right at the start to the end, yet, the way it also sucked his shaft into its wet folds - Min was already addicted.

“Ryujin, you’re so tight.” He said as he kept nudging Ryujin to move farther down, waiting for her glistening pussy to completely wrap around his shaft - then, eventually, completely devour her in the backseats of his own car. Yet, as he went through it with her, he began clueing in on the note - Ryujin is very.. Too sensitive. Why Ryujin focused on getting herself down, skewering herself on his length - desperately breathing, her chest dilating in and out. Through it all, as Ryujin tried to, adorably, hide her inexperience, Min pressed a compassionate kiss right into her mouth. 

“I love that. The fact that you’re so horny for a virgin.” He whispered against her mouth, breathing hotly, immeasurably hard.

And Ryujin needn’t respond at all, all she needed to do - well, did - was reach out with her tongue for his mouth, with those prey eyes, begging to be taken, testing her fickle fate - a sign that he needed to kiss her, devour her, again and again until hell freezes over. And finally, during the desperate haze of a reunification of mouths, he finally buried himself straight to the hilt, in her pink, glistening, sopping, beautiful core. And slowly, the wet sounds of sex, so blatantly loud in this claustrophobic environment, reverberated inside the car; the wet sounds of her moans covered this hazy atmosphere, coming from her lips that detached from his mouth, streaks of saliva still connecting them both; and that feeling, this mutual feeling of utter bliss, how her back bent - contorted - into every pump.

They couldn’t stop staring at each other, two perverts, two soulmates who couldn’t go for a second without looking at each other. Even when Min pushed up harder, letting his full length pass through her virginal hole, they still maintained that sensual eye contact - that essential eye contact.

“You fuck me so good, Min.” Ryujin said as her two small breasts jolted from every pump, every contraction of his length leaving her one step closer to ruin - until her eyes went back to that dangerous place, that orgasm line. And the resulting pressure, that heavenly pressure, pressed against his shaft so strongly, that his tight-lipped mouth let out a few growls of pleasure, a sign that he’s close to painting her womb in baby batter. 

Ryujin, ever the caretaker, felt the convulsions, and began pressing desperate kisses over his face - anywhere she could reach, whilst patting him on the back. And Min would never admit he liked it, that he loved it, and he didn’t need to admit it, Ryujin already knew. 

And she knew exactly, that this was the final straw that she needed to break before she was filled with his essence, the catalyst of that final convulsion. Min immediately seized, grabbing Ryujin in a bearhug - one that could’ve bruised her - and pumped hard, that final wet sound of sex, before, rope after rope of release entered deep inside her, splashing against her cervix, filling her womb.

“FUCKKK!!” He growled, he hadn’t felt this good since ever. And the same for Ryujin, who cried a leaky yelp, where her last bits of squirt flowed down the slightest nook from their love connection. They were static for a moment, relishing in the deviant copulation they engaged in, where, almost, the condensation of their lovemaking was visible in the air of the car.

“I love you.” She kissed him again, staring all lovey-dovey, as if her pupils had gone and turned into hearts.

“I love you.” He stared at her, happy, smiling.

“I love you more.” She added, exaggerating her laugh, trying to tease.

“I concede.” He replied.

“Heyyy! You’re supposed to say it back!” “I’m more for physical demonstrations. Wanna see?”

“Uh no. Please. It feels like it's about to fall off.” She was mentioning her pussy, all swollen and gummy to the eye.

“I love it, it’s so beautiful.” He replied, fully serious, digging his mouth into her neck, he was absolutely crazy about her.

“Min, I gotta take a shower, you’re being gross-” that’s when Min pressed a finger onto her - still engorged - clit, and proceeded to say, “I’m fucking crazy about you.” 

“Ngh! Stop! Seriously, it’s about to fall off.” Unfortunately, the collected accumulation of their love juices swiftly dripped down as Ryujin jolted back from him touching her clit.

“Isn’t this gonna stain your car until the end of time?” She stared at the significant puddle of who knows what.

“Let it. A commemoration of our intense copulation.”

Ryujin blushed, quickly grabbing the tissues that Min offered her, and wiping off all that she released, her entire lower half, essentially, was wet. And Min got aroused from watching Ryujin cleaning herself - her little winces when she slightly grazed her cunt only adding fuel to the fire. “Clean my cock.” Min demanded, but when Ryujin grabbed the tissues - ready to oblige - he replied, “with your mouth.”

To be continued...

Ahhh, I love cliffhangers. Enjoy waiting for 10 months! (just kidding!)

Honestly, I wanted to take months with this project, but I just can't seem to stop myself (from writing mid stuff).

[nishibons]

𝐇𝐄𝐘, 𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐌𝐄 . . .

or piwon pining thoughts/texts

warnings na genre fluff word count eight hundred excluding texts

note hiii everybody!! sorry i disappeared for a bit but ive been busy with uni TT i got an 85 on my recent assignment tho so everybody cheer… anyway ive been obsessed with piwon lately hence this post but fear not i have an enha version coming soon

keeho

confident but humble. he doesn’t have any expectations for your relationship but hopes that you’ll eventually catch on to his borderline obnoxious flirting, and better yet, reciprocate. if you do happen to return his feelings, he doesn’t waste any time in asking you out properly, because why wait? his friends say he laughs too loud around you for you to not know about his feelings, but he swears that they’re just being dramatic… he’s so normal and chill about you, really, that joke about the refrigerator or something was just funny!

taeyang

an absolute menace. you end up assuming that he hates you with how he stares you down whenever you enter his vicinity and with how he exchanges hushed whispers with his friends from across the room, silenced only when he turns his head far away enough to steal glances at you. eventually, once he asks for your number under the guise of it apparently being weird that you were the only two between your mutual friend groups to not have exchanged numbers, he plays into this idea, hoping he can pull off some sort of enemies to lovers trope, because it always works in books, right? in truth, he’s just a little bit apprehensive about the vulnerability that comes with liking someone, and tries to preserve his pride with thinly veiled insults that upon second glance quickly fall apart. can you melt his icy cold heart? (the answer is yes.)

jiung

likes you from the very beginning, but is a strong believer in the idea that lovers should be friends first, so he tries his best to establish a genuine relationship with you before he even begins to think about making any moves. he shows strong initiative even throughout your friendship–whether it’s invitations to meet up for lunch, to see that movie you’ve been eagerly waiting the release of, or even paying for your coffee every single time, he’s quick to assure you and dispels any worries you might have about repaying him with a wave of his hand and a bright smile–your company is enough, he says, and if you end up falling for him (who wouldn’t?) he, of course, eagerly awaits the day he can take you for an actual date, but enjoys every moment he spends with you until then just as much.

intak

by far the most shameless with his affection. he can’t help it–you have him hopelessly whipped from the very beginning and he’s terrible at hiding it anyway, so why not lean into it? the first to jump up from his seat when you mention being thirsty–water or juice? and the first to compliment you regardless of the circumstances of your meeting, even on those days you can’t manage anything but a sweater pulled hastily over your shoulders and a messy updo. it’s impossible not to feel flattered around him, and he’s honestly not even actively trying to flatter you, he’s just being wholly honest. if you ever want to shut him up, just compliment him back–hopefully you have a stretcher on hand!

shota

the cutest ever. you catch him staring at you more than a few times before he eventually works up the nerve to approach you, and initially you’re intimidated–but the moment he opens his mouth you know that he’s harmless, and obscenely adorable to beat. he’s not the greatest at expressing himself with words, so he makes sure to show that he likes you by sending you things that remind him of you–songs from an artist he likes, those little figures you collect he sees in the window of a store on the way to work, a rainbow in the sky after a rainy morning. sometimes he provides some commentary, or a cute emoticon, and other times he says nothing, sending only a simple picture and hoping that you can feel even just some of the many emotions that rush through him at the thought of you and have his heart fluttering in his chest when you eventually reply.

jongseob

the sweetest of angels. he doesn’t crush often, but when he does, he crushes hard, so he doesn’t want to mess it up. though he’s rather reserved on the flirting front, he makes sure to send good morning and good night texts every day, without fail, on top of the seemingly random yet innocuous questions he asks throughout the day–what did you eat for lunch? how was work? any thoughts on this new album that just came out? part of it is in hopes that eventually you’ll fall for him as he did you, but he does also take genuine interest in you as a person and wants to know everything about you there is to know if you’ll just give him the chance. flirt with him at all and you’ll very quickly have him turning into a giggling, indecipherably stammering mess.

[lobveyun]

lost in the melody | sjy

pairing: student!jake x student!reader | genre: fluff, romance, emotional(?)

synopsis: “lost in the melody" follows the journey of two souls brought together by music. when you stumble upon the quiet, talented jake sim in the school music room, a bond begins to from as he lets you into his world of melodies, secrets and dreams. together, you navigate the ups and downs of young love, face challenges, and support each other's aspirations, even when it means facing separation. through distance and time, your connection endures, creating a love story that, like music, is timeless and ever resonant.

! no cw !

[notes] hi guys okay so im doing this jake story and right now im working on a sunghoon story too so pls stay tuned! ive been very busy for the past months so this is like kind of a surprise post . anyways yea , go read

divider by @dollywons

jake sim was the first guy everyone noticed but few knew. tall with messy black hair that fell into his eyes, he often had a guitar case slung over his shoulders and headphones that seemed permanently attached to his ears. he drifted through the halls like a spector, his presence both magnetic and elusive.

you first truly saw him play one afternoon when curiosity led you to the music room after class. the door was slightly ajar, and a soft sound wafted out, pulling you in. inside, the late afternoon sun cast a golden glow around jake as he sat by the window, his fingers moving expertly over the strings. each note filled the room with a haunting melody that sent shivers down your spine.

he hadn’t noticed you at first; his eyes were closed, a serene smile gracing his lips as if he was in another world. you felt like an intruder, a momentary eavesdropper on something deeply personal personal but the music was intoxicating, and you couldn’t tear yourself away.

when he finally stopped, you clapped softly, unable to hold back your admiration.

jake’s eyes flew open, startled, “I didn’t know… I didn’t know anyone was here,” he stammered, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink as he scrambled to put his guitar down.

“I’m sorry,” you replied, a little embarrassed but genuinely impressed. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. you play beautifully.”

his shoulders relaxed slightly, though he still looked shy. “thank you. I… I just play to unwind. it’s nothing special.”

“no way, it’s amazing,” you insisted, feeling an unexpected rush of courage. you introduced yourself, and after a moment, he offered a small smile in return, “i’m jake.”

as the bell rang, an awkward silence settled between you. “well, I guess I should go,” you said, shuffling your feet.

“yeah, me too,” he replied, his eyes darting away. but just before leaving, he glanced back at you, a flicker of hope in his gaze. it was as if he wanted to see you again.

in the weeks that followed, you found yourself crossing paths with jake more often. some days, you’d catch him in the music room, and he’d invite you in to listen. other times, you’d pass each other in the hall, exchanging shy smiles that made your heart flutter.

one afternoon, as you walked past the library, you noticed him sitting alone by the window, his head buried in a notebook. curiosity piqued, you stepped closer, but he noticed and quickly closed it, looking flustered.

“sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” you said, feeling slightly guilty for intruding. “no, it’s fine,” he replied, glancing down at his notebook as if it held all his secrets. “I was just… writing.”

“writing what?” you asked, unable to hide your curiosity.

he hesitated, biting his lip. after a moment, he sighed and opened the notebook to reveal a page filled with scribbled lines and music notes. “lyrics. it’s kind of personal. but, uh, it helps me sort out my thoughts.”

you leaned in closer, captivated. “they look beautiful. I’d love to hear some of it sometime.”

jake’s eyes softened, a shy smile forming on his lips, “maybe one day. when it’s finished.”

from that moment, you two grew closer. you often met after school in the music room, discussing everything from your favourite bands to your dreams. jake began to share more of himself, his guarded nature slowly breaking down.

as the school festival approached, jake surprised you by asking for your help with his band’s performance. “I could use someone I can trust,” he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “you know, to help organise things.”

excited, you agreed without hesitation. during rehearsals, you watched jake transform from the shy boy you knew into a confident musician. his presence on stage was electric; the way he commanded the audience’s attention left you breathless.

finally, the night of the festival arrived. the auditorium buzzed with energy, the scent of popcorn filling the air as students mingled, chatting excitedly. after a successful performance, where jake had poured his heart into every note, he suggested escaping the noise to the rooftop.

under a blanket of stars, jake took a deep breath, his expression serious yet vulnerable. “there’s… something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he said, his voice almost lost in the night breeze. he fidgeted, glancing away, clearly struggling with words.

encouraging him gently, you said, “you can tell me anything, jake. I promise.”

he looked at you, his eyes searching yours. “I’m not great at talking about my feelings. but being around you feels different. you make me feel like I can be myself.”

a lump formed in your throat as he continued, “I like you. more than I’ve liked anyone. you’ve been my inspiration for so many songs… would you give us a chance?”

you felt your heart race, your mind swirling with emotions. “jake, I feel the same way,” you confessed, your voice steady. “I’d love nothing more.”

a relieved smile broke across his face, his eyes lighting up with joy. “really?” he asked, disbelief mingling with hope.

jake invited you to his favourite spot by a secluded lake, a hidden gem he frequented to find peace. the two of you sat on a grassy hill, the sun setting in vibrant hues of orange and pink. as the cool breeze brushed against your skin, you shared childhood stories and dreams, feeling a sense of comfort wash over you.

“what’s it like to play music?” you asked, glancing at him as he gazed thoughtfully over the water.

“it’s like… he paused, searching for the right words. “it’s like being able to say things that I can’t cope with words. music allows me to show parts of myself that I keep hidden.”

you watched him, captivated. “and what about when you’re with me?”

he turned to you, his gaze softening. “but with you, I don’t feel like I need to hide.” he hesitated before adding, “you make me feel free.”

in that moment, your heart swelled with affection. without thinking, you leaned your head on his shoulder. jake tensed for a moment, then relaxed as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, pointing the sky in deep purples, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace and belonging.

as the months passed, your relationship with jake blossomed. you spent lunch together, swapping secrets and laughter. he often brought his guitar to your study sessions, playing soft tunes that filled the air with warmth. “you’re my muse,” he’d tease, making you blush, but you knew he meant it.

for the school’s end-of-year showcase, jake nervously asked you to sing with him. “I wrote a song for us,” he confessed, his cheeks turning a shade darker. “it’s everything I feel about you. I’d love it if we could sing it together.”

the night of the showcase was electric with anticipation. as you stood on stage, fingers intertwined with jake’s, the spotlight felt both exhilarating and terrifying. he began to play, his fingers dancing over the strings with a passion that took your breath away.

as he sang, his voice resonated through the auditorium, filled with emotion that stirred your heart. you joined in, your voices blending harmoniously, weaving a narrative of love and connection that captivated the audience.

when the last note lingered in the air, silence enveloped the room for a heartbeat before the crowd erupted into applause. jake turned to you, his eyes shining with gratitude and love. “thank you,” he whispered, brushing his fingers against yours. “for being the song I never knew I needed.”

tears of joy filled your eyes as you leaned in, meeting him halfway for a soft, tender kiss. the crowd faded away, leaving just the two of you in your own world, a melody playing that only you could hear.

but as your relationship deepened, the challenges began to surface. jake had a habit of retreating into himself whenever stress crept in, especially concerning his music. you noticed the change after a long rehearsal for the upcoming talent show; he seemed distant, his laughter replaced by silence.

“jake, is something bothering you?” you asked one afternoon, lightly touching his shoulder, concern etched on your face.

he looked up, frustration flickering in his eyes. “I… I just need some space right now,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze. “it’s hard to explain.”

you nodded, heart heavy with worry. “okay, just… let me know if you need anything.”

days turned into weeks, and you felt him slipping away, a ghost of the boy you had grown to love. you decided you couldn’t stay silent any longer. after class one day, you confronted him, your heart racing. “jake, if there’s something wrong, you can talk to me. I’m here for you.”

his expression softened, but the conflict in his eyes was clear. “I’m scared,” he admitted quietly. “scared that I won’t be good enough for you, for the band… for anything. I don’t want to let you down.”

“jake, you’re not just good enough. you’re incredible,” you replied, determination lacing your voice. “you’ve always been enough for me. please, don’t shut me out.”

he looked at you, uncertainty lingering. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“but you already are,” you whispered, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. “please, let me in.”

after a long pause, jake finally nodded, his shoulders slumping as he exhaled deeply. “I’ll try. I promise.”

with open communication, the two of you began to navigate the rough patches together. slowly, jake opened up about his fears, his insecurities, and the pressure he felt to succeed. you listened, providing support and encouragement without judgment.

one sunny afternoon, while sitting in the park, jake surprised you with a small gift: a handwritten song. “it’s not perfect, but it’s for you,” he said, handing it over with a shy smile.

as you read the lyrics, your heart swelled with emotion. it spoke of love, vulnerability, and the beauty of sharing one’s soul with someone.

“jake, this is beautiful!” you exclaimed, feeling the tears of joy spill down your cheeks. “I love it!”

he grinned, the warmth of his smile lighting up your world. “I wanted to create something that captured how I feel about you.”

with renewed determination, you both decided to work on a song together for the talent show. you spent countless hours crafting the melody, laughter spilling from your lips as you struggled to hit the right notes, your bond growing stronger with each chord played.

on the night of the talent show, excitement filled the air as students and teachers gathered, eager to witness the performances. as you and jake took the stage, the world outside faded away. the moment felt surreal; the spotlight was bright, but the connection between you two was brighter.

you exchanged glances, and he nodded, a silent promise of support. as the music began, you poured your hearts into the performance, each note resonating with passion and emotion. the audience was captivated, swept away by the magic you created together.

when the final chord rang out, the room erupted in applause, and you could hardly believe the joy that filled your heart. jake turned to you, eyes wide with disbelief. “we did it!”

you laughed, breathless, and pulled him into a tight embrace. “that was incredible!”

as you stepped off the stage, adrenaline coursing through your veins, you realized how far you had come together. the challenges only deepened your connection, forging a bond that felt unbreakable.

in the weeks that followed, your relationship continued to grow, solidified by the trust you had built. you faced challenges together, celebrating victories and comforting each other in moments of doubt.

jake often played the song you wrote together, filling your days with music that felt like a promise of forever. “I can’t imagine my life without you,” he said one evening, strumming softly in the dim light of the music room.

“and I can’t imagine my life without your music,” you replied, a smile lighting up your face. “It’s our melody now.”

as graduation approached, the future felt uncertain yet thrilling. “whatever happens, we’ll face it together,” jake vowed, his eyes filled with determination.

“together,” you echoed, heart swelling with love. with each note you played, each lyric you sang, you knew that no matter where life took you, your hearts would always be in tune.

if u liked this , pls reblog and like since its hard to make my work known . i hope u enjoyed this !

[strawberries-and-racing]

i wanna be yours - mv1

pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader

requests that came together and inspired this series:

• nsfw prompts 9-13 (in pt. 2)

• 'listen up. Obsessive possessive crazy max for sweet innocent reader smut.'

• 'ok so we need dark FICS of any driver of your choice but make him very obsessive and possessive and don't forget the smut. Keep it up girlllll!!!'

summary: a lot of tension building between possessive max and sweet y/n.

warnings: alcohol consumption, fluff, slightly crazy max, some cliches (im sorry!) also the title is based off the arctic monkeys song because i felt like the vibes matched also i love arctic monkeys💕

a/n: screaming once again!!! this is the first fluff ive posted and it's part 1/2. the next part has the smut as promised but i wanted to take my time and build this up please enjoy🙏

the flight to the UK was long, but well worth it. two months ago you'd been offered an unbelievable opportunity.

an opportunity you'd been dreaming of for years, one you'd spent what felt like an eternity working towards— an engineering internship. not just any internship, one with the red bull formula one team.

you'd be able to travel with the team, shadow the engineers, help with various tasks around the paddock, and design parts at hq. an absolute dream.

after scouring a thousand real estate websites, you'd finally found the perfect place for to live.

a little 1 bed 1 bath apartment, tucked into a beautiful, quaint little neighbourhood. just 30 mins to the red bull hq.

you'd dedicated many late nights and ikea shopping trips to making the apartment your own. your comfortable escape from the grueling hours of studying and pressures of the internship.

you led a busy life, but it never bothered you. you adored what you did and formula one had been your passion since you were a little girl.

and now everything was falling into place. in fact, tommorrow you'd leave to attend your first race with the team. austria. red bulls home race.

you were ecstatic to say the least.

  °~•☆•♡•☆•~°

you hurriedly made your way through the paddock and into the red bull garage. your eyes glued to the schedule on top of the pile of papers in your arms.

you were on your way to assist one of the senior engineers in preparation before the race began.

you were nervous, and it was no help that you weren't exactly sure where you were supposed to be meeting him.

suddenly, you stumble over your own feet and bump into someone.

you feel hands on your shoulders, their grasp firm, steadying you.

you look up and are taken aback by the pair of strikingly blue eyes staring back at you. his eyes were the kind of crystal blue that would capture anyones attention. but despite their bright colour, they had a sort of inexplicable depth, darkness to them.

there was something in his expression that you couldn't quite read. something stirring beneath the surface of his icy gaze. it was as though he wasn't just looking at you, but into you.

you abruptly become aware of his hands, still on your shoulders. you're so oddly aware of them, as if it's your first time being touched by anyone.

he holds you firmly, as if trying to hold you together. the moment seemed to last forever. the two of you frozen in time.

a stranger's eye contact and touch shouldn't be affecting you in this way.

"you okay?"

it's only once he speaks that you realize who the man standing in front of you is.

your eyes widen, cheeks flushing. you straighten up quickly, mouth slightly agape.

"oh'" you start, at a loss for words "yeah, im sorry." you manage a small smile.

you straighten up an take a step backwards, pulling away from his grasp. you miss the warmth of his hands more than you'd ever like to admit.

"it's okay, no worries," his eyes linger on you a moment longer before you both go your separate ways.

as you walk away, you cant help but glance back at him.

max verstappen.

you'd certainly heard him speak before on tv, but something about his accent in person was enchanting. his energy seemed to linger on you like perfume.

everything about him caught your attention, long before you'd bumped into him in person.

you'd seen his dominance on track, it was impossible not to notice. he could control the car like no other driver, handling each corner perfectly. he pushed the car to the limit every race and it payed off.

it wasn't just his driving you noticed. his persona. it was everything. and you couldn't ignore the fact that it was sexy.

his short temper, his tendency to snap easily.

it was unreasonably and indescribably attractive.

  °~•☆•♡•☆•~°

the next time you see him he's across the room. you're studying the notes that the senior engineer gave you, papers and writing utensils spread across the table in front of you.

he was discussing something with his race engineer, he certainly wasn't doing anything that was particularly interesting or peculiar, he wasn't even looking in your direction. but for fucks sake you were distracted. you were somehow absorbed by his prescence.

ever since bumping into him you couldn't seem to get him out of your head. last night you'd replayed the memory over and over in your mind, finding it more difficult than usual to fall asleep.

all day, you'd silently prayed you would bump into eachother again. your relentless efforts to push your thoughts and feelings to the back of your mind were useless.

the mere idea of him was addictive, so alluring. he was drug-like to you and impossible to ignore.

although it was unknown to you at the time, max had found himself similarly hooked on you. or rather, the thought of you. even though he found enough strength to avoid looking at you, he was well aware of you. sitting at the table in the furthest corner. he was even more aware of the fact that your eyes kept flickering in his direction.

your energy was unlike anything he had ever known. you walked around with an aura of pure innocence. yet you seemed untouchable.

your smile shone. your laugh was contagious. you radiated sunshine. max had come to know these things about you.

you were magnetic in such a way that made him curious.

it stirred something inexplicable inside him. like you were another thing for him to win, to claim. another thing for him to dominant. to corrupt.

your innocence was tangible. and max wanted to be the one to wreck you. it was all he thought about.

ruining you.

  °~•☆•♡•☆•~°

the light in your apartment was soft. that's how you preferred it.

you relished your alone time. your small apartment was tailored exactly to you. it was always where you felt perfectly safe and at ease.

light from the sunset was just beginning to spill through your windows. you're stirring a big pot of soup on the stove with lazy motions.

a buzz from your phone catches your attention, the screen lights up and you see a new message. it's from andrew, one of the young engineers at red bull who you'd grown close with over the past few months.

your eyes widen upon reading the message.

a dinner with drivers? you couldn't deny that it sounded exciting.

but then again, you were already in your pajamas and the soup was beginning to steam.

you suck in a breath.

fuck.

the three letters of his name were more than enough to change your answer.

  °~•☆•♡•☆•~°

you spent half your time getting ready frantically choosing an outfit.

finally, you'd settled on your favorite black dress. your hair fell over your shoulders in soft curls left over from the day before.

now, you were standing outside the restaurant. you take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves.

you walk in and the hostess greets you with a friendly smile. you're led to a booth connected to a big table that's only half full.

andrew waves you over and you take a seat next to him in the booth. lando sits across from you.

youd never spoken with lando outside of strictly professional context and you were pleasantly surprised by his charming humor. you're engrossed in the conversation with the two boys as the rest of the group fills the table. you look up to greet the others.

your breath hitches when you see him. his eyes stare into yours with the same intensity as they had two days ago. you don't break the eye contact until he sits down and a dark haired boy you've never seen before calls his name.

despite the abrupt rush of blood to your head, you manage to hold up the conversation with lando.

  °~•☆•♡•☆•~°

max couldn't keep his eyes off you for long, and the longer he watched the tighter his grip got on his glass, until his knuckles turned white. he was so focused on you laughing and smiling with lando that he didn't pick up on the way you fidgeted with your ring. a nervous tell.

max clenched his jaw as you leaned in close to something lando said. far closer than what many would deem an action between two casual friends. your giggles and blushing and landos knowing smirk and your hand jokingly smacking his arm made max see red.

"you alright, mate?"

"im fine."

  °~•☆•♡•☆•~°

as the night goes on and the chatter and laughter get louder, people begin shuffling around, moving to talk with new people.

lando is called over to a different group of friends and andrew leaves with him, leaving you alone in the booth.

"having fun?"

you recognize his voice immediately, sense his burning presence as he slides into the booth, sitting next to you.

"yeah." you manage a smile. "the food was really good."

"that's good." he says, briefly glancing away. your eyes involuntarily trace over the tendons of his neck.

he was wearing a dark button down, the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. simple, but ridiculously sexy.

he turns his eyes back onto you. "i didn't know you were gonna be here."

"oh i—" you hesitate for a second, his eyes making your heart skip a beat.

"andrew invited me." you explained, turning slightly so you could face him.

"mm, so are you..." he gestures between you and andrew a few seats down, you know what hes asking.

"oh no, we're just friends." you toy with the edge of your napkin.

it was a bold topic to bring up during a first conversation to say the least, but it didn't feel weird. there wasn't the usual tension, usual coldness that typically came with talking to someone for the first time. it was comfortable, you were able to relax a little.

"hm." is all max answers with. he spreads his legs slightly and pushes his hips forwards, getting comfortable. his leg brushing against yours.

the casual action had your heart thrumming in your ears, beating so loudly you're worried he can hear it.

you swallow, having to glance away. you feel your cheeks turning red.

why max verstappen had such an intense effect on you was still a mystery.

"so um—" you start, trying to make some small talk that would distract you from his arm that now rested on the ledge behind you. you take a breath, composing yourself before speaking. "how often do you guys do this kind of thing?"

he shifted again, his leg touching yours, but he doesn't pull it away this time. the knot of nerves in your stomach tightened. you felt your face turn even redder. the physical contact made your body ache for more.

max smirked, his ego swelling as he saw the effect he had on you.

"once in a while, usually after a race." 

you nod, biting your lip.

"congratulations by the way." you say, it wasn't surprising he'd taken first yet again, but you said it anyways. you prayed he wasn't able to pick up on the way your words came out slightly shaky.

you wanted to do nothing more than relax into him, but with the way he was looking at you that proved to be impossible.

you took a sip of your wine, desperate to cool down as an unexpected surge of heat washed over you which lingered between your legs.

max was different than anyone you'd ever talked too before. he reminded you of nobody. his sense of humor was unique and hilarious.

as the conversation continued you grew immensely fond of the dutchman sitting beside you. although you were absorbed in the stories from his childhood he told you, you remained acutely aware of how close the two of you were now sitting.

max's night couldn't have been unfolding more perfectly. your body language made your thoughts and feelings painfully obvious.

he picked up on the way you blushed immensely at any slight touch from him. the way your pupils dilated as you stared at him. the goosebumps that spread across your chest when he complimented your dress.

but the loudness of the restaurant was a little too much for him. there were too many people here. he craved something more intimate, more private.

"do you wanna get out of here?"

you're caught off guard by his words.

the question was so cliche, yet coming from his mouth it made your heart throb.

"there's a beautiful view not too far from here," he continued, "we could walk?"

his voice was like velvet and he leaned in close, speaking in a low tone as if he didnt want anyone to hear except you.

by now, you're practically having heart palpitations. the pit in your stomach gapes wider.

it was already hard enough for you to keep your sanity intact with him while surrounded by other people. you honestly aren't sure if you could handle being out alone with him.

you nod slowly your head spinning, breathe quickening.

"oh, yeah i'd love that." your voice was unsteadt, yet enthusiastic.

without another word he starts getting up, but before he slips out of the booth he gently touches your leg with his hand, as if reassuring you.

his fingers may as well have been made of hot metal, his touch affected your entire body, his fingerprints burned into your skin.

you felt like a little kid with a crush as you gingerly got up and followed max out of the restaurant, butterflies in your stomach and in your mind.

you don't notice all the eyes on you two as you leave the restaurant, too caught up in the giddiness you were feeling. your own eyes too focused on max in front of you, more specifically on his back which looked so good in that damn shirt.

max, on the other hand, was well aware of all the eyes on him. he fought to keep his cocky grin at bay. there were at least 20 other people there, and out of everyone, you were leaving with him.

he opens the door and lets you by first.

"thank you," you say, the night air cooling your overheated body.

"of course."

amongst the ever present—extremely active— butterflies that fluttered in your stomach, you felt a twinge of genuine nervousness.

you realize that you had just left a restaurant, alone at night, with a guy you technically barely knew. was this safe?

it certainly felt safe. max felt nothing like a stranger.

your nervousness melted away once max fell into step beside you. you looked up at him, at those intense blue eyes.

you were walking so close your arms touched. you had the urge to reach out and take his hand, but of course you didn't.

so there you were, walking alongside max verstappen into the dark night, to see the promised beautiful view.

you'd only walked two blocks before max carefully took your hand in his, entwining his fingers with yours.

please let me know if you want to be tagged for pt.2 (this might end up being three parts)❤

[kiibichio]

PLAY DATE 2. 𐙚 ❤︎ M. STURNIOLO

OVERVIEW ;; you and matt get into a heated argument over your ‘friends with benefits’ deal, how will it end ?? (good ending i promise)

CONTAINS ;; angst, fluff, good ending !! (that’s it?)

momo speaks ;; PART TWO OF THISSS. this was so fun to writeee. I HOPE U GUYS REALLY LIKED IT BC I WORKED HARDD MAN I WAS BREAKING A SWEAT OVER HERE (but kinda rushed). enjoy !! (PART ONE HERE <33)

date published ;; 02.20.24

not proofread !!

——————————————————————————————

6:49 pm.

“are you serious? you just told me you ‘missed me so much’, but you’re letting me leave just like that? am i just some sort of play date to you?” i ask, sitting up. anger, sadness and confusion written all over my face.

maybe i shouldn’t have said that.

matt goes silent for a while, then speaks up.

“you do realize that when we started this we both mutually agreed to have no feelings right?” he says, trying to keep his cool

“well- i mean yeah, but-” i try to speak

“then what makes you think i want to be something more?” he cuts me off. he stands up and starts to get dressed.

“matt. good fucking god, i mean you just have sex with me that damn near kick me out?”

tears start filling my eyes. shit.

“yeah!” he exclaims sarcastically “i do because when we established this, i told you i didnt want a fucking relationship. we’re just friends that just so happen to fuck.” matt raises his voice at me.

then the water works break. goddammit.

i wipe my eyes before speaking up, “okay then… if that’s how you want it to be, then we can end this shit right fucking now. im not gonna allow myself to be used like some damn sex toy.”

“wait.. y/n- c’mon i didn’t mean it like that.” matt tries to explain, regretting what he had just said.

“oh no. i fully understand what you meant,” i reply, now getting dressed.

“fuck..” he mumbles under his breath, but still loud enough for me to hear.

“that’s all you have to say?” i stand up after putting my shoes on, crossing my arms in front of the bedroom door.

matt goes silent.

“oh, what? we’re mute now? real cute.” i ask sarcastically before storming out the room. he follows behind me, trying to explain himself with ‘y/n this!’ and ‘y/n that!’ but i easily tune him out.

as i reach the front door, it starts to open.

it’s just chris and nick, i give a small wave and quickly pass by them and start walking to my house.

ill be damned if i ever let somebody treat me like this shit again.

——————————————————————————————

an hour later, i get a knock on my door. dear lord, who is it now? i walk over to the front door and open it.

matt’s on the other side.

“hey.. forgot your phone…” he says sheepishly, handing it over to me.

“mhm. thanks.” i answer. i start to close the door before he pushes it open again.

“can i… come in?” he asks

“why? so you can screw me over again? no thanks.”

“y/n. im serious. please?”

i can tell he’s serious, but im still hesitant.

i sigh and open the door wider to let him enter.

he makes his way to the couch, while i lock the door and follow behind him, but sitting on the opposite side of him.

there’s a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

“just gonna sit there?”

he lets out a deep breath, “listen, i’m sorry for yelling at you earlier. i didn’t take your feelings into consideration and i clearly wasn’t thinking in that moment.” matt explains sincerely.

“i accept your apology. and i understand, but now that my secrets out, we cant keep doing this. it’s just- not.. right.” i shake my head

“that’s another thing i wanted to talk about. it’s not that i don’t like you.. i do- it’s just…” he sighs

“what, matt? you can talk to me. we’re still friends.” i speak. i move closer to him and put my hand on top of his.

“ive been extremely busy lately. flying back and forth, videos, podcasts, everything. its just a lot to handle and im not sure im ready for commitment. so its not a no.. its just a ‘not now.’” he looks at me.

after he said that, i felt like a weight lifted off my shoulders. i needed that sense of reassurance. but now i feel like the asshole. i should’ve thought about him too.

“that’s perfectly fine, matt. i can handle that.” i start to smile, “ill wait for you, matt. take as much time as you need.”

he hugs me and i can feel his face growing into a soft smile against my shoulder.

“thank you, y/n.”

4 months later ;;

“matt! baby, i missed you so much!!” i say, leaping in his arms as he walks out into the airport parking lot towards my car. i attack him with kisses all over his face and hug him just a bit too tight.

“too tight, my love.” he says almost out of breath.

“it’s not my fault, this is the first time you’ve ever left me like this! i just really, really missed you.” i exclaim, letting go of him.

“you’re so extra.” he chuckles

okay that first part was a partial lie, but it really is the first time he’s gone back to boston without his girlfriend of 2 months!

“can you two get a room? good fucking god.” nick says disgusted, chris nodding his head and agreeing with his brother.

me and matt both shoot them the middle finger and continue walking to the car.

he grabs my hand, “i missed you too, though baby. i was thinking about you the whole time. and…” he continues to tell me how much he had missed me and loves me.

best boyfriend ever.

——————————————————————————————

momo speaks (again) ;; ugh this was really rushed im sorry if it sucks 😭😭 BUT I GOT IT DONE. love you guys <3 hope you enjoyed !! TOODLES xx

tag list ;; @sturniolos-blog @mayhem-72 @hearts4chris 🍵

[fictionfixations]

sorry i was late to playing more of the story but i kinda just forgot 💀

cause like i ran out of space so i deleted it but then when i updated hsr i had space for hi3 again but um i also forgot to log into games for dailies so ive been like really off my game lately so

i THINK this might be the last part of the story?

WOAH. oooh can we meet the general? GUH its the card game again...

NOO WHAT HAPPENED TO OUR GENERAL

LUOCHA?? or well like otto apocalypse or void archives or something something i forgot u were on the xianzhou (did you know theres a void archives mention in the event where the tb gets a room)

ITS WELTT

wait the general ISNT missing?

WELT DONT JUST SAY THAT AND LEAVE WTF

HUH okay that was just mean. youre meant to dodge obstacles so i go in the middle between two and then suddenly theres this obstacle moving in the middle and i was too close so i couldnt see it and react on time. thats my bad cause im impatient to wait but still D:

SCUSE ME WHAT HAPPENED TO JING YUAN?? like welt i love you but !??! my general ?!?!?!?!

what the- i was gonna say aww but -

so wait. he disappeared making people think the general is missing (and even tried to like push those rumors cause he was tired of being a general). ...but then he demanded a blademaster competition to find a successor?? so wait. do they or do they not know hes still there cause i thought the seat of divine foresight was still looking for him. or did he do that before he went 'missing'?

oh. wait the generals not back though..???

im playing too many games that are really hard on my dominant hand cause its usually spamming a button 😭

its an actual fight this time. also i never mentioned it before but sparkles laugh with her ult on herself makes me think of that one yandere game where you were trying to escape. i cant remember the name but it had a version with a crossover with yandere simulator for halloween and they could hear your mic

SAIKO NO SUTOKA that was the name

gives me that vibes whenever i hear it

an actual battle AND THEN ALSO a card battle? NOOO

WHAT

this is bullshit what 😭

:(

AHH VOICED WELT JUMPSCARE

what. actually i think welt has mentioned arahato before(?? in one of his chats he wishes he could set his pfp to it i think) or like some sort of episodes of an anime that he's shown to the crew via a mimicry ability

!?!?!!?!

sometimes this game is serious and sometimes this game is just so unserious i just get speechless

NAHHH THEY DID HIM DIRTY

huh

CITY OF DREAMS?? i......

!?!?!? DESTINATION MARS?????

gimme more masked fools lore (specifically sampo) i need it so bad

WE'RE FIGHTING SAMPO trying to read all the dialogue dont wanna miss it hold on

assume every voiceline is sampo unless said otherwise

"While I'm a firm believer in small talk brings big clients,"

"Actions can sometimes speak louder than words"

"Let's finish things off with a duel."

"Don't call for reinforcements outside the ring."

"Me? Against that?"

"Uh, how about a short break? I need to take a business call."

wait is he actually on his phone 💀💀💀 HE IS im trying to get a screenshot

"Hey, it's me, your old buddy Sampo."

"You might not believe it, but I've run into a little trouble here. Huh? You believe it now?"

"Seeing as we're old friends, can you find someone to help? Yes, if possible, now would be the best time."

"No, no, there's no danger. I've got plenty of good-looking girls here."

"I just remembered I've got something to take care of. ...See you!

"Hey, how about this? As long as you send someone right now we can negotiate a price."

"You want to double the price? Come on, it's not right to take advantage of the situation."

"Wait, don't hang up so fast. Put yourself in my shoes. I mean, who hasn't fallen on hard times?"

"Let's talk some more..."

"Oh my, you saw right through me?" (to Sparkle who pointed out the trashcans [which he were hiding in] were moving]) if you get rid of all trashcans before he finishes dialogue he still says this

"I can't take it anymore. Time to let "them" play with you." WHAT????

"Hey, are you still there? Maybe you can't hear my voice, but the situation here is pretty dire... Have all your friends already left?"

"Well, let's not dwell on the past anymore. You have to look forward to the future, and business needs to move forward, right?"

"Hello? Hello? You're not gonna let me down right now, are you?"

(Sparkle) "I heard your voice." (cause he was hiding himself in fog)

cutscene cutscene i hate lag. fucking fuck i coudlnt get screenshots of what hew said and you know me the omment i read something i forghet immediately what was said and forget to write it down

anyway he got rid of his phone and took out like his daggers instead

would you be mad at me if i restarted the boss fight just for those two lines? ..actually idk if i can replay this im gonna do it anyway and my phone on standby because trying to screenshot on laptop is unreliable and lags

""Luck runs out when the money's gone," That's what they tell me, anyway."

"Since we can't make a deal, let's talk about fighting, you two."

WHAT THE FUCK SAMPO suddenly close up attack where hes suddenly there and striking goddamn

OW what the fuck that just took a big chunk of my health. 'the deeper the love' 'the stronger the hate' gah okay note to self dont let that bar fill (well im really bad at fighting in this game so im TRYING man)

"Hey, go easy on me! By the way, here's a small token of my appreciation... Think of it as a friendly offering."

(Accept Sampo's surrender? - Reject Sampo's surrender?) NO FUCKING WAY YOURE GONNA DO YOUR ULT WHERE YOU PULL OUT A BOX OF CHOCOLATES AND IT EXPLODES I RECOGNIZE THAT ANIMATION

huh new option?

did she just smack him in the butt

ive hit the image limit so

(Sampo) "Come on, we can talk things out. Why resort to violence?"

(Sparkle I think? it doesn't specify whose talking) "Your cheap tricks can't fool us, Sampo."

(Vita) "Just surrender nice and easy, Mr. Fool."

(Sampo) "That's a shame. I was hoping to share some... interesting information with you."

(Vita) "Oh, some juicy intel, huh?"

(Sparkle) "Hah, ignore him. Sampo's always like this. When he's backed into a corner, his brain goes into overdrive, and he cranks out all kinds of lies to weasel his way out."

(Sampo) "Hahaha, Miss Sparkle knows me well. But you're not one to give up easily when you're cornered either, are you?"

(Sparkle) "See? Just like that, saying things that make no sense on purpose."

(Vita) "So, what should we do with this schemer?"

(Sparkle) "We should... turn him into fireworks to celebrate our perfect victory!"

(Vita) "Are you sure? He's technically your "colleague", right?"

(Sparkle) "Watching a "colleague" fall victim to their own schemes can be a rare source of "elation"."

...

(Sparkle) "Oh, lighten up! No need to get so serious! From what I know about Sampo, the man standing in front of us is probably just a figment of this dream."

so wait can he actually be that strong or is he only this strong because we're like in a dream or some shit (i kinda forgot why we're here but i think its a simulation of sorts)

oh we can either trust sparkle or be skeptical

okay well i like sampo more than sparkle so

oh we make a good point. hes not an illusion because he can see us who nobody has been able to but vita and sparkle

so wait this sampo is the real one then. so wait can he be that powerful outside of this like dream???

ah so sparkle is the mastermind behind all this

(Sparkle) "Distant stars... bursting into such lavish fireworks..."

was she speaking about an audience??

sparkles in her new skin now

...wtf. did the camera app just crash on me?? IT CAN DO THAT??? WHAT

(Sparkle) "Sparkle, dedicated to the grand finale!"

(outfit change)

(Sparkle) "Let's finish this Fool's Game with grace, my dear Vita."

(Vita) "Ha. I'd be happy to, my precious Sparkle."

(Sparkle) "Well then, let the show... begin!!"

we now play as vita.

(Ai) "Exactly. [Captain], remember I told you I switched the dream's setting from Penacony to Honkai Impact 3rd for a specific reason?" wait WHEN did you mention penacony?

(Sparkle) "Ah, what a shame. I was looking forward to seeing how that god would react to my little viral fireworks." and this is where my very little hi3 knowledge fails me

shes using one of sampo's smoke bombs that have a 100% escape rate LMFAO

SAMPO??

"Oh, well, that Miss Administrator insisted on a full scan before letting me go."

"I figured I'd pass the time chatting, and she ended up recommending a game to me-Honkai Impact 3rd."

...

"The thing is, my time's limited, and it has so many chapters! I don't even know where to start."

"I heard you're a veteran at this game. How about helping me choose a chapter? Where should I start?"

IDK MAN IM BARELY ANYWHERE IN THE STORY

i got her outfit but i dont have her so 🤷

anyway on the other hand look who i got :D

[shotmrmiller]

my back have been hurting so bad lately and I think i require a massage in order to continue the rest of life but I don't have someone to give me one nor the money to get one.

Imagine masseur/chiropractor!simon or even masseur/chiropractor141 who are professionals who mainly give massages and chiropract? Body builders, sportsmen but also normal people.

Imagine your appointment(massage or chiropractic) got mixed up and in place of your regular girl there's this buff as fuck guy. First you thought you got the wrong room but this was it.

He was intimidating and it was kinda awkward but its ok it's the norm for you. His hands were so big, you were almost scared he was gonna be too rough for you. This was meant to be relaxing!

You can wherever you want with this!

in my notes, I have a chiropractor/airrosti Simon because he fits the bill. Every chiro ive ever gone to is always some beast of a man who folds me into a pretzel easily.

can you look at this ache that i have in between my legs, it just—

i also need my hips realigned so bad— my neck popped too because the tension i got going on there? taut like a harp string. I have someone pick me up from behind with my arms crossed in front of my chest every day, and every fucking time my spine sounds like bubble wrap.

hello smut, my old friend. i left the 141 nameless, enjoy. if it's soap just, he speaks good english, ok.

TW: prob dub-con of a sort? this does not happen in real life; it is all porn. Masseuses are professionals through and through, no matter how naked you are.

--

You're not small by any means, and yet his hands cover the expanse of your back. Your waist.

And you're trying to keep it professional, truly, but when his slick hands dig into a knot that was hidden behind your shoulder blade, the moan you let out is obscene, and you mumble out a quick apology.

How bloody embarrassing.

"S'all right, I hear that all the time."

He silently starts up again, but this time it feels like he's digging his thumbs into your muscles harder, and this time you can't stop the mewls that escape you— It's just aching so deliciously.

"I'm really," a hiss, "sorry! I just really needed this," a groan, "sorry, I'm so sorry..."

Then his hands start to glide downwards, and when his knuckles dig into where your lower back meets your upper glutes, your hips lift off the massage table as your back arches.

You're too busy trying to get away from that cramp-like pain to notice that he places his hand on the back of your upper thigh to keep you still— his fingers a little too close to your cunt.

"Stay still. The lower back always has the most tension because it's used almost all day every day," he informs.

You continue to squirm, saying, "I'm trying! I swear I—" and freeze, arse up, head on the table because you felt his fingertips graze your slit.

Oh, gods. Now you've gone and done it! He accidentally touched you and it's all your—

"So that's how I get you to listen?" He uses one finger to firmly stroke at your entrance again. "If this is what it takes then so be it."

What?

One hand disappears for a second, the other keeping your hips propped up, and then he's touching you again, but this time with two, very slick fingers. His fingers move lower, closer to the table, until he finds your clit.

"Stay still f'me, I'll take care of you."

--

He took good care of you, a little too good, honestly. Almost like he does it for a living.

You came around his fingers once, with his mouth twice, and then once more when he fucked you.

He took you with one of your legs holding you up, the other bent and up on the table with his hand around your neck as he whispered how tight you are around him. That was because of how painfully large he was. He stretched you to your limit, and even then, he had said something about not being able to fit his cock all of the way inside.

It was a pounding, and you're surprised that no one burst the door open because you were sure that anyone could hear the lewd slapping of skin coming from inside the room.

As you got shakily dressed, you teasingly asked him if he did this with all of his clients, and he admitted that no, just you.

Sure.

Don't believe me? Let me see you again outside of here and I'll prove it.

You stumbled out of the office with his cum dripping onto your knickers, but hey.

He massaged some of the stress away, and fucked out the rest.

You were relaxed.

[riceys]

Could you write for schlatt?

I'm thinking an English/German girl who is his graphic design (does like his thumbnails and like website) and after late night and long discord calls he slowly realises he doesn't just see her as an employee or friend but something more? I saw this sort of idea some where recently and it's giving me brain rot. Plus the banter between an English/german person would be unhinged.

YESSS OMG ACTUALLY LOVE THIS ive thought about this so much recently and i know german soo

gonna do hcs for this :)

also im very bad at formatting so sorry about that (ill probably rewrite stuff after i figure out how the fuck to do it)

Jschlatt x german/graphic designer!reader hcs

warnings-some nsfw at the veryyyy end

Wilbur introduced you two after schlatt said something about needing an artist for his channel

'find graphic designer !!!' schlatt mumbled while writing on the dull yellow paper. He was in a call with some friends, not really paying attention to what they were doing as he was busy making a sort of to-do list

"schlatt are you there?" the thick accented voice brought schlatt out of his daze

"hm yea sorry whatd you say willbur"

"i said my mate is a graphic designer, i can send you her info if you want." wilbur repeated with a laugh

"oh shit yeah thatd be great man thanks"

definitely left the call to go talk to you after that

very caught of gaurd by your accent, wilbur had failed to mention the slight language barrier as you were used to doing work in german

"so its a little ram with a sweater" his voice suprised you, wilbur didnt say anything about him being american.

"a what?" you laughed at the foreign word nervously. He sounded intimidating and it was kinda hot???

"a uhh," he laughed pulling out his phone, "einen bock? i think." Any sense of intimidation melted away as he stuttered out the poorly pronounced german.

absolutely melts when you giggle at this ^^

he LOVES your laugh!!! specifically that he can hear the accent come through in it

once you start working for him finds a way to sneak your art into everything he does and pays you way more than he should be

"Schlatt this is like triple my rates, you really dont need to pay me this much"

"consider it a tip, toots"

flies you out to every single event he goes to. merch photoshoots? you're in every photo. creator clash? he bought you the best seats in the house. says its a "business thing". (its not)

gets to the point where you're spending every other month in Austin with him before you move out there.

when chuckle sandwich starts he begs you to do all the art for it too (not that you would've said no)

Also begs ted to have you on as a guest

guest turns into member after the first chuckle week, where schlatt insisted that you be there cause you made the art

finally asks you out the week after the 1st chuckle week where they stay for the week to decompress

took you to boa then going stargazing

asks you out in german

"Sehr Schön" you breath out as you look up at the stars. Schlatt next you is freaking out trying to get the courage to ask you out.

"Du bist Sehr Schön" He misspronounces, still managing to make you blush. He only knew what that meant because he had been studying how to ask you out in german all week.

He puts a finger under your chin to shift your focus to him before speaking, "y/n, Ich mag dich wirklich, wirst du mit mir ausgehen?"

It was obvious he had used google translate and taught himself how to say it as he mispronounced many words and had a slight stutter, but it meant the world to you

Pulling him in for a kiss you paused to look at him, "Du bist dumm, Jschlatt"

asks you to speak to him in German

teases you so much (lovingly obviously)

also (nsfw time)

learns how to call you a slut in german

when he fucks you so good and you start babbling in german

sorry if this wasnt great i kinda got carried away and its my 1st writing thingy

[rayspookyhistory]

ᡣ𐭩 Poisons in novels ᡣ𐭩

sorry for the late post, ive been busy sorting my room and figured id get a simple post before a social event this weekend :3

Poison has been a pervasive element in historical novels, captivating readers with its dual nature of subtlety and lethality. Its allure in literature can be attributed to its rich symbolism, its capacity to shape plotlines with intrigue and suspense, and its reflection of historical realities and human psychology.

In historical novels, poison often symbolizes betrayal, corruption, and the dark underbelly of human dynamics. Unlike other forms of violence, poison operates in the shadows, representing the covert machinations that often underlie historical events. It embodies the insidious nature of treachery, as it can be administered by those closest to the victim, highlighting themes of distrust and paranoia. This symbolism is potent, offering readers a lens through which to explore the darker aspects of human nature and societal structures.

For instance, in Alexandre Dumas' "The Count of Monte Cristo," poison symbolizes the ultimate betrayal. The character Madame de Villefort uses poison to eliminate those who stand in her way, demonstrating how poison can be a tool for personal ambition and revenge. This act of poisoning underscores the theme of treachery and the moral decay that accompanies the pursuit of power.

Plot Device for Intrigue and Suspense

Poison serves as a powerful plot device in historical novels, driving narratives with its inherent mystery. Its delayed effect allows for complex story arcs where suspicion, investigation, and dramatic revelations unfold. The use of poison can create tension and suspense, as characters seek to uncover the perpetrator before it is too late. This gradual build-up keeps readers engaged, as they are drawn into the puzzle of who, how, and why, mirroring the investigative processes in real historical events.

For example, in Umberto Eco's "The Name of the Rose," poison plays a crucial role in the plot, creating a series of mysterious deaths that propel the story forward. The slow unraveling of the truth behind the poisonings adds layers of depth to the narrative, intertwining historical, philosophical, and theological themes. The intricate details of how the poison is administered and the subsequent deaths create a labyrinthine mystery that engrosses readers.

Historical Accuracy and Realism

The use of poison in historical novels often mirrors actual historical events, lending authenticity and realism to the narratives. Throughout history, poison has been a tool of assassination and political maneuvering. Historical figures such as Lucrezia Borgia and Catherine de Medici have been famously associated with the use of poison, cementing its place in the annals of history as a weapon of choice in power struggles.

In Robert Graves' "I, Claudius," the depiction of the Roman Empire is rife with poisoning plots, reflecting the historical accounts of Roman emperors and their courts. This realism not only grounds the novel in a believable past but also educates readers about the intricate and often brutal realities of historical power dynamics. Poison, in this context, becomes a symbol of the precariousness of life and power in ancient Rome, where a drink or a meal could be a harbinger of death.

Reflection of Human Psychology

Poison in historical novels also delves into the psychological aspects of fear, control, and vulnerability. The threat of poison taps into primal fears of being harmed in unsuspecting moments, making it a tool of psychological as well as physical domination. Characters who wield poison often do so to assert control, manipulate outcomes, and instill fear, reflecting real-world psychological tactics used by those in power.

In Shakespeare's "Hamlet," the use of poison is not just a physical act but a psychological weapon that drives the protagonist to madness and despair. The poisoned cup and the poisoned sword symbolize the pervasive corruption and moral decay within the Danish court, illustrating how poison can metaphorically represent the degradation of the soul. The psychological torment that Hamlet endures due to the poisoned state of Denmark mirrors the physical effects of actual poison, creating a profound interplay between the mental and physical realms.

Case Studies of Poison in Historical Novels

In "The Count of Monte Cristo," poison is used as a weapon of vengeance and ambition. Madame de Villefort, driven by greed and a desire for power, uses poison to remove obstacles in her path. Her actions not only drive plot forward but also highlight the themes of corruption and moral degradation. The meticulous planning and execution of her poisonings add layers of suspense and intrigue to the story, engaging readers in a complex narrative of revenge and justice.

Robert Graves’ "I, Claudius" presents a vivid portrayal of the Roman Empire, where poison is a common tool for political maneuvering. The novel depicts numerous historical instances of poisoning, reflecting the cutthroat nature of Roman politics. The use of poison in the narrative serves to underscore the precariousness of power and the constant threat of betrayal. This historical accuracy enriches the novel, providing readers with an authentic glimpse into the brutal realities of ancient Rome.

Shakespeare’s "Hamlet" uses poison both literally and metaphorically to explore themes of corruption and moral decay. The poison that kills King Hamlet sets off a chain of events leading to the unraveling of the Danish court. The climactic scene, where multiple characters are poisoned, symbolizes the culmination of the court’s corruption and the ultimate destruction it brings. The psychological impact of the poisonings on Hamlet reflects the broader existential questions of life, death, and morality that pervade the play.

The prevalence of poison in historical novels is a testament to its multifaceted role as a symbol, plot device, and reflection of historical and psychological realities. Its ability to evoke themes of betrayal, suspense, and the dark aspects of human nature makes it an enduring element in literature. Through the lens of poison, historical novels explore the complexities of power, fear, and morality, offering readers a gripping and thought-provoking experience. The subtlety and lethality of poison make it a uniquely powerful tool in the hands of novelists, allowing them to craft stories that resonate with the enduring themes of human history and psychology.

please dont go poisoning people :)

[prettyinpurplelights]

IV.

“I cannot believe we actually made it.” Mia gripped your hand excitedly, her acrylic nails digging painfully into your skin.

“Girl, hold my hand any tighter and you’ll crush my bones. I won’t have a hand to collect my diploma with.” You giggled softly, prying her fingers off the back of your hand so you could lace your fingers together instead, her sweaty palm pressing against yours.

“Sorry.” She replied and you squeezed her hand in response. “I’m just so nervous, can you believe after all our hard work, we’re finally here?”

“I know.” You sighed, looking out into the audience of family members and friends that were filling into the giant cathedral to watch and support their loved ones on one of the most important days of their lives. You and Mia had finally come to the end of your degrees, and today would encapsulate the last four years of all nighters and countless assignments. You were graduating with a Master’s degree in fashion design and marketing, Mia in medical neuroscience with psychology. As well as saying goodbye to your university, you were both parting ways with the city too, leaving Marseille for Paris early the following morning. During your final year, your main project was to put on your own fashion show, making the pieces as well as being responsible for promoting and marketing the event. You didn’t sleep for several weeks, but it had all been worth it because the show was a huge success, landing you the highest grade in your cohort as well as a job waiting for you at Louis Vuitton, whom having interned for them the summer before, and after your show being such a hit, offered you a place at their headquarters in Paris. Mia had also secured a fellowship in one of the biggest hospitals in the country, working with their research department on new treatments and cures and finding the causes for all sorts of illnesses to do with the brain that she had tried to explain to you but had gone completely over your head. All you understood was that it was incredibly competitive and very hard to get into, so you were extremely proud of her, and very excited to start this new chapter of your young adult lives together. You had already leased an apartment to share, and moved almost all your stuff over during the summer break. It was now a matter of starting to unpack and make it more of a home when you both returned to Paris for the last time in less than 24 hours.

“Ouuu I see Elliot!” Mia squealed, waving her hand that wasn’t holding yours excitedly. “He’s with our parents, come on, let's go and say hi before grad starts.” She stood up, dragging you down the small steps where the choir would usually be during mass, instead, today, it was where the graduates were to be seated during the graduation ceremony. She pulled you through the aisle, mumbling a few excuse me’s as you weaved through the sea of people talking to each other, the atmosphere electrified with excitement and anticipation for the upcoming ceremony.

“Mommy, Daddy!” Mia's smile grew wider as she hugged her parents tightly. Her parents had moved to London when she was 14, her dad’s hotel business was expanding and he’d started to branch out into the rest of Europe. Mia was supposed to have gone with them but she didn’t want to move to England, and after a lot of bargaining, she’d managed to agree with her parents that she’d live with her grandmother instead, hence how you became friends, she had moved to Bondy late into the school year and the only spare seat in your form tutor was next to you and the rest was history. Unfortunately, Mia’s grandmother had passed away just before she was due to start university, and since she was officially an adult, her parents let her stay in France. She’d fly out to see them regularly but it had been a while since she last saw them, and they’re very busy people so you knew she was very pleased to have them here and you’re glad they could show up for her.

You hugged your own parents, your dad clicking at his camera repeatedly, making sure he had enough photos to commemorate this occasion.

“Dad, I don’t even think I’m in the frame in the one you just took.” You laughed at him, as he squinted behind the lens.

“Close enough! I’m so proud of you, my sweet baby girl.” He leant over to kiss your cheek before walking off, muttering about finding someone to take a group photograph.

“You know I don’t think he made such a fuss when I was graduating.” Elliot appeared by your side, his hand reaching up to grab your cap, to remove it so he could ruffle your hair. You ducked under his arm, knowing exactly what he was trying to do and pushed him away from you.

“Don’t you dare El, I was up at 6 this morning doing my hair, you’re not messing it up!” You scowled. “And besides, we both know I’m mum and dad’s favourite.” You added. A smug smile spread across your face as you shrugged your shoulders.

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes. “At least I’m the smart one, all you do is play with pretty fabric all day.” Elliot had graduated with a degree in sports science the year before, ending up at PSG, working as part of their medical staff. From what he had told you, he was really enjoying himself, and it probably helped that it was the same team Kylian played for, those two together, you were sure they were putting the other PSG players and staff members through hell.

“You know without people like Y/N, the rest of us would have nothing to wear, you’d be naked right now.” Mia slid up to Elliot, her arm wrapping around his waist as his went over her shoulder and squeezed it.

“I know you wouldn’t complain about that.” He replied.

“Mmmm, probably not.” She looked up at him, pursing her lips as he reached down to kiss her.

“Ew, the both of you. Please, I’m literally standing right here.”

They both laughed, pulling away just as your dad returned, some poor 20-something looking boy in his stead, holding the camera.

“Where’s Marco? Is he not coming?” Elliot asked, craning his head around to see if he could spot your boyfriend.

“Um…he’s in Tokyo. We broke up.”

Ex-boyfriend.

“Oh shit, sorry sis. What hap-“

“Group photo everyone, quick together!” Your dad interrupted his sentence, and you were thankful for his extraness in that moment, not wanting to answer any questions about your break-up. Your dad ushered you, your mum, Elliot, Mia and her parents into a huddle. It took a couple of minutes to organise everybody, your dad was kind of a perfectionist; it’s probably where Elliot got it from. You were stood between Mia and your mum, your brother behind the both of you. You turned to face him and from the look in your eyes and the way your lip turned downward slightly, he knew what you were going to ask, the issue of Marco long forgotten. Someone else was on your mind now.

“He’s going to be here Y/N. He might be a bit late, but he’ll be here.”

“He didn’t come down with you?”

“I had to pick Mum and Dad up so we got a later flight, he said he’d make it down himself. He wouldn’t miss this. I’m sure he’s on his way.”

You nodded, as you turned back to the boy holding the camera, mustering up the biggest smile you could, trying to ignore the way your heart felt so heavy in your chest and the sudden way your gown started to feel stuffy and uncomfortable. You and Kylian weren’t on bad terms, in fact, you were great. It had been almost three years since you’d decided to take a step back from him, and focus on yourself and who you were outside loving him. Not to say you stopped loving him, you don’t think that was something you’d ever be able to do, but you’d reached a point where he wasn’t all you thought about and it didn’t dictate everything you did and consume your entire being. You’d even managed to date someone this year, your first official boyfriend, Marco, for about 10 months, until he had to move to Japan for a student exchange transfer and you’d mutually decided to end things while you were on a good note because long distance for a whole year was not worth it; you’d remained friends though. You liked him a lot, but you didn’t love him, which was one of the reasons why he’d also agreed, howbeit reluctantly, to break up before his transfer, he’d told you he loved you 2 months prior and you were still yet to say it back. He had wanted to stay for you, but you encouraged him to go, not wanting to hold him back, especially when his feelings were so strong for you and yours were…well, not as strong. You didn’t want to disappoint him if you still couldn’t commit several months down the line and he’d thrown his future away for you.

“Graduates please make your way to your assigned seats, the ceremony will begin in 5 minutes.”

You and Mia hugged your families one more time before making your way back towards the stage. Your phone buzzed in your hand as you sat down, bringing it up to your face.

“Kylian?” Mia asked, her inquisitive nature causing her to lean over your shoulder and read the text on your phone.

“Ouuuu Marcoooo.” She sang teasingly as sat back and unlocked her own phone.

Hey, I know we’re not together anymore, but you’re still my friend so I wanted to wish you luck today! ♥️ proud of you always

Thank you Marco 🥺 I really appreciate it. How’s Japan treating you?

It’s amazing. The culture is just wow. And the sushi DEFINITELY tastes better here. You’d love it.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, ready to type out a reply when he sent another message.

I miss you.

You heard Mia wince audibly next to you, obviously reading the conversation between you and Marco.

“Get your big ass head out of my business.” You bumped your shoulder against hers as you sent Marco a quick reply about the ceremony starting so you had to go, not at all in the mood to unpack what that “I miss you” meant.

“Shame. I liked Marco. He was good for you.”

“Mmmm.”

“At least he congratulated you, better than that idiot your brother calls a best friend.”

“Ky’s our best friend too. And I thought you were on his side? Team KyY/N?”

“That was two years ago Y/N. He couldn’t even be bothered to send you a message about not coming.”

“El said he’d be here.”

“You think so?”

“I told him about today personally. He promised me he’d be here. For the both of us.”

“Oh we both know which one of us he’s coming for. And honestly I couldn’t give a fuck if he shows up for me, no offence. But for you? I’m skinning him alive the second we get to Paris.”

“He’ll be here.” You whispered to no one, almost as though you were trying to convince yourself. He had given you his word he wouldn’t miss today when you’d called him a few months ago about it. Initially you thought it might be weird, speaking to him on the phone, since you’d only been texting recently, but the thing about you and Kylian is no matter how much time you spent apart, you never fail to fall right back into your usual stead of things.

You hadn’t seen him since your birthday at the end of January, where there’d been a sort of awkward moment when you’d introduced him to Marco, who then had been your official boyfriend for a couple of weeks. He had just gotten back together with Renee, they had been together since your little confrontation at the airport two years back when you’d told him to focus on her. They had been on and off since they’d started dating, from what you’ve seen in the media, Kylian never really talked to you about her. From what you’d read over the course of the years, they’d broken up a couple of times, not that you cared or were keeping count.

******

He picked up after 3 rings, his face filling the screen when he answered. You gave him a little wave and a smile spread across his features, his dimples greeting you.

“Y/N. Hey.”

“Hi!” You replied, your voice chirpier than you’d expected it to be.

“You okay? Did something happen?”

He must’ve noticed the way you anxiously chewed at your bottom lip, your telltale sign something was wrong or you were nervous. In a similar way, he would squeeze his eyebrows together and his nose would twitch involuntarily when he was feeling the same. The harder he scrunched his eyebrows, the less nervous he was, the increased frequency of frown lines strewn across his forehead meant he was more likely to be angry instead. You knew each other’s tics and tells, probably better than you knew your own. By logic you and Kylian should’ve worked, you complemented and contrasted each other in the most perfect ways, but for some reason, the universe didn’t seem to agree and rather preferred to have the two of you in constant awkward situations and miscommunications leading to petty arguments. It was a quite cruel joke to be honest.

“Um, no, everything’s fine, I’m good. I was just wondering what you were doing August 1st.”

“Hmmm, the league starts again the week after that I’m sure, so just training.”

“Or nothing, if that’s what you need me to be doing.” He added and you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered a little bit his words.

“Well Mia and I are finally graduating on the 1st. My parents and Elliot will be there. I was wondering if you wanted to come-“

“I’ll be there.”

“Really?” He laughed at your response.

“Gummy, you’ve wanted to be a fashion designer for as long as I’ve known you. I remember when you took it upon yourself to be mine and El’s stylists in middle school, I don’t even know why I let you do that, you used to put me in the most ridiculous outfits.”

“All you wanted to wear to school was your football kit.” You rolled your eyes. “I was trying to broaden your horizon a little bit.”

“Even then, you had talent, I can’t even imagine what you’re able to do now.”

“Well not to brag, but I am on track to finish top of my class.”

“Didn’t expect anything less from my girl.” He smiled genuinely and heat rose rapidly to your cheeks as you looked away from him for a moment.

“Of course I want to be there for you. But are you sure you’re 100% about it? Not to brag, but I am kind of a hotshot on the football scene right now.” He mocked, using your words against you playfully.

“Oh shut up!”

He laughed again, before continuing.

“I’m serious though Y/N, I know you like to stay out of the limelight and stuff, I don’t want to ruin that for you or steal attention away. This isn’t a private party like your birthday.”

“I want you there Ky, I want everyone I love there. I’ll be okay.” You nodded. Just then, you heard your boyfriend call out from your bedroom, his voice growing louder as he neared you in the kitchen.

“You ready babe?” He wrapped his arms around your waist, pressed a kiss against your cheek when he noticed you were on the phone.

“Oh hey man!” He waved at the screen. “How are you doing Kylian!”

“Hey…Marco. I’m good.” The smile on Kylian’s face dropped briefly as he greeted your boyfriend with a slight grimace. You quirked your eyebrow, wondering what the hell that was about but now it was his turn to break eye contact, looking everywhere but at you and Marco.

“How’s Renee?”

“Ummm she’s good. We’re…good.”

“Still can’t believe this guy is dating the biggest supermodel in the world, very fitting.”

You scowled, turning to face Marco, his comment grating on you a little bit.

“As opposed to you dating what?” You questioned, daring him to say some more bullshit.

“The hottest, smartest, kindest girl in the world of course.”

“Hmmm, better be.”

“How did you deal with her quick temper all your life Kylian?” Marco asked, and you elbowed his rib in response.

“You see what I mean?” He laughed, walking away from you. Kylian didn’t even bat an eye, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere else in the world at that moment.

“So anyways-“ You started but Kylian interrupted you, the words tumbling out of his mouth faster than you could register them.

“I gotta go. But I’ll be there August 1st. You have my word.”

“Oh, okay, yeah sure. Say hi to Renee for me.” You had barely managed to get out before he ended the FaceTime abruptly.

******

That was the last time you’d spoken, save the occasional text, but not once had he mentioned he wouldn’t be able to make it to your graduation. So by the time the ceremony was done and you had collected your diploma and walked down the aisle to cheers from your family, received more congratulations and took even more pictures and said your goodbyes to your family, to say you were simply pissed off was a great understandment. Some fool had even thought it would be funny to do Kylian’s infamous goal celebration in front of the cameras before collecting his diploma which amused everyone in the cathedral but vexed you even more. Kylian had always been there for you, he’s always tried his best to be present when you needed him, this was one of very few times he hadn’t shown up for you. But it hurt still, this was probably the most important thing you’d needed him for, and he’d not even bothered to shoot you a text he would be a no show.

“I know for sure he got on that plane Y/N.” Elliot had tried to reassure you earlier when you’d walked him and your parents to the Uber they had booked to take them back to the airport.

“Well that means fuck all to me. He’s not here.”

“Gosh he’s such an idiot. I’m going to skin him alive when I see him.”

“Funny your girlfriend said the same thing.” You laughed, but not really feeling humoured in the slightest. “Don’t worry about it El, I don’t know why I expected any different from him.”

“I know he has the funniest way of showing it, but he cares about you Y/N. And he loves you.” You ignored his comment, giving him one last hug before he slid into the front seat of the cab.

“I love you El.”

“Love you too sis. Always. You and Mia have fun tonight alright? And I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

You nodded, saying goodbye to your parents once more before the car pulled away. Mia appeared at your side, leaning her head on your shoulder.

“Mia?”

“Mmhm?” She replied.

“Let’s get absolutely fucking wasted tonight.”

———

“Why the fuck did you listen to me when I said we should get wasted last night.” You groaned, flopping onto the couch, your suitcases abandoned by the door. You’d finally arrived at your apartment in Paris, a little before midday, exhausted and terribly hungover.

“You looked like you needed it.” Mia sat by your side, laying your head on her chest and rubbing your shoulders.

“You’re so lucky you recover quickly, I still feel like I’ve been hit by a monster truck.”

“I’m gonna go out and do some food shopping, I’ll bring you something. Get some rest.”

You’d practically gone straight from the bar to the train station. You, Mia and your group of university friends had gone out to celebrate graduating, and also spend one last night together before you all split and went your different ways. It had been a great night, but you’re definitely regretting it now, as you were sure the others were too. You hadn’t even had a chance to shower as you and Mia had to pack the last of your stuff and hand in your old keys to the landlord before 7am since the train to Paris Lyon was leaving Marseille St. Charles around 8.

You decided to take a long shower while Mia was gone, you usually felt much better after a good soak. You’re glad to have your little travel toiletries bag because you had absolutely no idea where anything was; the apartment was filled with countless unopened cardboard boxes. You had about two weeks before your new job started so you and Mia could hopefully unpack and decorate in that time.

Definitely starting tomorrow. There was absolutely no way you’d be putting together furniture and organising your wardrobe today, you planned to stay in bed as long as you could instead.

You had just stepped out of the shower when you heard the doorbell ring, probably Mia who had forgotten her keys. You wrapped your towel around you, securing it as you opened the door.

“Did you not take your key-“ You looked up, your sentence breaking down half way through when you realised it wasn’t Mia in front of you. You rolled your eyes, moving to close the door in his face but he was quick, his foot reaching out to block the door from locking.

“Y/N, hear me out, please.”

“I don’t give a fuck about what you have to say Kylian, take your foot out of the way before I crush it.”

“I have boba?”

You paused for a second, still refusing to look at him.

“What flavour.”

“Mango milk tea with passion fruit pearls. I brought croissants too, from the best bakery in Paris. Very expensive. Very tasty.”

You opened the door wider, letting him walk through, cursing him for knowing you so well. He set the items on the little bit of space he could find on the kitchen worktop that wasn’t covered in boxes before turning to look at you.

His eyes scanned your body, starting at your legs, stopping when his eyes met yours. You felt stuck to the spot, your blood turning to lead as your eyes remained fixed on his, his mouth slightly ajar, your heart pounding fast. You forgot you were angry at him for a minute, flashbacks of the last time he’d seen you like this flickering across your mind instead as you suddenly remembered you were wearing next to nothing. Your hands came up to cover your chest and legs, breaking the both of you out of your hypnotic state.

“Umm…I’ll be back. Gonna put something on.” You muttered.

“Yeah…umm…sure, I’ll wait here.”

You raced to your room as quickly as you could, ignoring the funny feeling in your stomach and the way your heart was racing like it was running out of time. You rummaged through the boxes, trying to find one that had some clothes in it. After a couple of minutes of sifting through books and shoes and everything else, you managed to find a bag at the bottom of one of the boxes with your gym clothing.

You pulled the shorts and a t-shirt over your head, rolling your eyes when you realised which top you were wearing. You walked back into the room with your arms crossed, trying your best to look angry as you faced Kylian, a smile spreading across his face when he noticed your top.

“Wipe that smug grin off your face, I could only find my gym stuff and it was the only top in there.”

“You work out with my name on your back?” He held out the boba to you, his eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Shut up. These jerseys are surprisingly very breathable.” You snatched the plastic cup out of his grasp, piercing the film lid with the straw and taking a sip.

“Well yeah, we do run around in them for 90 minutes so we’d hope they’re breathable. Remind me to get you a new one from this season though, that one’s a bit outdated.”

“This one’s just fine. Thank you for the boba.” You raised the cup at him before stretching your hand out, pointing to the open door that led to the hallway. “You can go now.”

“Y/N-“

“Kylian I don’t want to hear it. You think what, by bringing my favourite drink and cracking jokes everything’s okay?”

“No, of course not. I tried to call you last night.“

“And I didn’t answer for a fucking reason. Did it cross your mind maybe I didn’t want to talk to you after you stood me and Mia up?”

“Listen-“

“There’s not an excuse you can give me that’s valid Kylian. You promised me you’d be there. I kept looking out for you, the whole ceremony, even after it was over, we lingered around the venue for so long my parents and Elliot almost missed their flight back home. Of course I didn’t tell them why I wanted to wait around, they still think you’re the best thing that’s happened to them besides their own kids.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I got on the plane to come to you, I swear-“

“So you were in Marseille yesterday?”

“Yes, I was on my way to-“

“Funny you were in Marseille yesterday.”

“Y/N-“

“Because I was in Marseille yesterday, and this morning too actually, up until about hmmm, 4 hours ago? But I didn’t see you. At all.”

“Y/N-“

“You’re so-“

“Y/N STOP TALKING!” He suddenly yelled, your sentence cut off midway by his outburst. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this many frown lines across his forehead before, he must be really pissed. That makes two of you.

“Don’t raise your voice at me.”

“Well I don’t have a choice if that’s the only way to get you to fucking listen.”

“I don’t have to listen to anything you have to say.”

“You know what? You always do this. You always assume you know what I’m going to say, or how I feel so you just cut me off before I get a chance to even explain myself.”

“Because I know you’re going to come out with some bullshit Kylian! Always you and your empty fucking promises, I’m so over it. But sure, prove me wrong. Go on, explain yourself then.”

You raised your arms as if to say he has the floor to speak. He clenched his jaw, his lips in a tight line as the both of you stared at each other, a million and one emotions swirling around you. Anger, pain, disappointment, sadness. If looks could kill, the both of you would be simultaneously 6 feet under.

“I swear I didn’t mean to miss your graduation Y/N, I really wanted to be there. I literally got to the airport and I, I bumped into Renee. I swear it was unplanned, I had no idea she was going to be there, and we just started talking and she had a lot she wanted to say to me, and honestly I didn’t realise how long we were together for, I swear it wasn’t my intention to miss your ceremony.”

“So what was so important that you had to talk about there in that moment, for such a long time-“

“She wanted to get back together.”

“You broke up?” This was news to you, as far as you were concerned, Kylian was still dating her, you hadn’t seen anything in the tabloids about them breaking up.

“Yeah. A couple of months ago.”

“So you’re back together now? For what, the 5th time?”

“It’s complicated Y/N. I love her.”

A sharp but fleeting pain travelled across your chest and it took everything in you not to physically keel over. It was laughable, how easy it was for one person to completely lose feelings they claim to have had and fall in love with someone else, while the other couldn’t even utter the words to another, whether they meant it or not. Because the pent up feelings were still there, choking you, gripping your heart tight and rendering you useless, incapable of loving anyone else, but him. You felt like dying, maybe it would hurt less than living in this sick and twisted reality, this constant loop of being reminded he’s never going to love you the way you love him.

“Yeah, Kylian, I can tell. Because she clearly means more to you than I do. I told you about this weeks in advance, you gave me your word yet when something better comes along you’re quick to just brush me under the rug like you always do.”

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention. I didn’t even know how to talk to you when I realised I’d missed the ceremony, I didn’t think you’d want me there-“

“Of course I’d want you there, you fucking idiot, you’re my best friend. Why else would I ask you personally to come?

“I knew you’d at least be with your family, Mia, Marco.” He said Marco’s name with such disdain you almost laughed at the audacity he had to seem irked by the mere mention of your ex-boyfriend when he had a girlfriend of his own.

“Marco is in Japan. We broke up. For good.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.”

“Why would you? You don’t talk to me about Renee, I don’t talk to you about Marco. Some kind of unspoken rule right?”

There was a silence between you before he spoke.

“I’m sorry. I know you loved him.” For someone who’d been in your life for almost two decades, perhaps Kylian really didn’t know you as well as you thought he did. Or maybe you were so good at pretending you’d managed to convince everyone but yourself you’d been in love with Marco.

“Anyways Ky, I think you’ve done all your explaining. You can leave.”

He rounded the kitchen island, stepping closer to you so he could take your hand that wasn’t holding the drink, gripping it softly in his.

“Y/N, I really am sorry. Please, l don’t want us to start your move to Paris on a bad note. You have no idea how happy I am that you're finally here to stay. Let me take you out tomorrow. Just me and you, a celebratory dinner. On me. Heck I’ll even take you shopping, any store you like, I’ll carry all the bags and not complain one bit.”

A soft giggle left your lips and you cursed yourself for letting him get away with his shit so easily.

“Please, I’m sorry gummy. It won’t happen again. Let me make it up to you.”

“You better bring your shiniest Amex card tomorrow when you pick me up.”

“It’s a date.” He smiled, and you tried not to think too deeply into what he’d just said.

Just then, you heard the front door close, Mia appearing in the doorway with several shopping bags, singing to herself. She noticed you and Kylian stood in the middle of the kitchen, your hand in his and she rolled her eyes, knowing you had definitely let him off easy. Luckily for you, she wasn’t about to do that. She smiled sweetly, before reaching into one of the bags and pulling out an orange. It happened so quickly, you didn’t not anticipate the orange leaving Mia’s hand with such force, heading straight for Kylian’s head. He managed to duck at the last second, the fruit finding the wall behind him instead of his skull.

“Mia what the hell?!” He shouted.

“Fucking dickhead. You’re lucky that wasn’t a knife.”

/———-/

Part 4 finally 😭😭 just two more parts to go! Sorry it took so long please forgive me 🤞🏿 and it may seem like it’s going round in circles but they gotta do this stupid arguing and not talking about their feelings 5 times before they finally get their shit together so we’re getting close to the happy ending, very soon though it’s deffo going to get very messy before it gets better 😵‍💫 I hope y’all like it <3 (also it’s half 3 in the morning and I haven’t edited this entirely so I’m super sorry for any mistakes 🙏🏿)

Also I know the French don’t do graduations (shame if you ask me, I loved my grad) but I had to have one to fit the story 🤭

And I’m sorry for making y’all wait, im back at work and it’s hard to find the time to write (I had a bit of writers block) and also I find it hard to write super short pieces so it does take me a while to write so I’m super grateful to y’all for being so kind and patient 🥺🫶🏿

LINK TO MAIN POST

TAGLIST

@lululuvsfooty @nayeoniie @cherimbp @karotland @m4k444 @cixstar @lovefks

[emlovslennon]

hiiiii could you do teddy john and sort of “square” reader are rivals and always fighting. then one day she asks him why he teases her so much and he confesses he likes her 😸😸 thanks LOADSSSS

HIII IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE IVE BEEN SO BUSY ITS INSANE but here we go ladies cuz we need more teddy boy content in our lives cuz there can never be enough teddy boy <3

-

era: 1960

-

you and John have done nothing but butting heads recently, whether it be arguing over music taste or arguing over what a movie to watch, it’s just gotten more and more frequent.

“Y/n, move out of my fucking way dammit!” John yelled, you didn’t move a muscle as you stared up at him by the doorway, you guys were assigned partners for an art project for your college final and you two just wouldn’t quit, constantly going at it.

“No, quite frankly, Lennon, you’re not my father, so I don’t have to do anything you tell me to.”

“Yea? Well it’s my bloody house, if you know what’s good for ya, you’ll move.” He said, looking deep into your eyes, you froze, you couldn’t help but feel something deep inside, it felt strange, you couldn’t put your finger on it, even if you wanted to. I mean, there had to be a reason he’s been so brutal lately.

“Why are you acting like this John? You know, I’ve heard that when somebody acts like this, it means they like them and they’re just too embarrassed to admit it. Is that what this is? Hm?” You asked, he look stunned, you could slowly start to see a red flush paint his face, you couldn’t deny, it was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Y/n, please don’t start with that shit.” He said, softly shoving you out of his way to sit down on the couch.

“John, i don’t care, if this is why you’re being such a twat then I don’t mind… you know, you’re a very handsome man, John, if i do say so myself.” You said, speaking very quietly on the last part, but you know he heard. He turned to you and his blush intensified, he shifted in his seat.

“I.. y/n… fuck it, ya know what, I do like you, okay? Is that what you fucking want to hear? I just.. I feel like I’m just not good enough for ya cuz you’re little miss sunshine and rainbows and im probably the most hated fucking man in Liverpool.” He confessed, covering his face with his hands, you slowly walked over to him, removing his hands from his face and sitting next to him, placing his hands into your own.

“Listen, I know we have been at each others throats, but you could have just told me, i like you too, why do you think I always call you every night and try to see you every chance I get? I don’t care if you’re the most man wanted in Great Britain, I really like you and… I wouldn’t mind going around saying I’m John Lennon’s girlfriend.” You said comfortingly, John moved his hand to slowly caress your cheek, looking into your eyes again, but in a different kind of manner, it looked like the glare you give when you’re down right in love.

“Birdie.. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so ashamed to have been so cruel to a precious thing like you. I’ve wanted you for so damn long, y/n. Will you forgive me, please? I’ll do anything for ya, I’m a fool, y/n, but it’s all for you.” He said, tears covering his eyes, he looked so vulnerable, you’ve never seen him like this, but coming to the realization you broke that wall down that he’s had for such a long time, is refreshing.

“John, of course, you don’t need to ask, I’m all yours Johnny, I promise.” You whisper, before leaning in to give him a long awaited kiss.

-

OKAY THIS WAS ALSO SHORT BUT THIS ONE KINDA GOT ME INTO MY FEELINGS NGL BUT I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKED IT <33

[snoopykissgone]

I love u guys so much! Sorry ive been so absent lately ive been working and planning school and looking for a car and planning me and maisys bdays and playing fn a lot and prepping for a root canal and having a sort of boyfriend thing ive just been very busy but i love u so much!

[mama-scarebear]

One second, at the prior anon who also had a crush on you, I am so sorry for devalidating your experience and what I said. Honestly, I was tired when I scanned through the blog to see if my ask had been answered and I didn't pay that much attention once I realised it wasn't mine.

I thought it was just an anon that didn't bother reading the bio and didn't continue reading past a point and completely missed the rest of the message. Nevertheless, that's not a message or behaviour I support. I really hope I didn't bring any harm to you but it's valid if I did.

Thank you for such a genuine and wonderful answer. Because I am literally incapable of being concise. I want you to know the response I was going to give had 10 paragraphs. Short ones, but still. I have cut it down to these statements:

Love that you're good with witchcraft AND you're a punk. You sound super cool.

Thanks for sharing her handle. Her tattoos look really cool and I love how she plays with dimensions in her tattoos and her bodywork.

I love the alt music scene. Because of circumstances in my life I am around the scene often and while I don't think I'm the biggest punk, the larger alt subculture in my area has my heart.

What are some of the artists you've listened to recently?

I've never been to a punk music festival. I've only ever been to 1 festival but it was so busy and not super fun in my case.

I've never seen dorohedoro. Thanks for the rec. It looks super cool and I'm looking forward to seeing why you enjoy it.

My curiosity has been sated but not permanently? Hope that counts :D

I suppose I'll reply to this in a similar fashion:

Ive a decent history with both witchcraft and punk and have dabbled in both quite a bit. I am far more or a punk than I am a witch though. The witchy stuff is a bit lost on me at times.

Ive an appointment with her this summer to get some work done and I can't wait. I love the unapologetic queerness of her work and how she portrays gender non-conformism. As someone who plays with gender liberally it's nice to see.

I love the alt scene quite a bit but only rarely get to properly participate. Another downside of rural living. I'm functionally the entirety of the visibly alt scene in town.

Lately I've been revisiting a lot of old favourites and some new bands I fell in love with over the last festival I went to, so we've got Bad Cop/Bad Cop, Against Me!, Middle Aged Queers, JER, The Anti-Queens, Whoredrobe, and Pat The Bunny.

Im sorry you didn't have fun at that festival. The one I go to yearly is spread out through multiple venues/bars so it's not all in one sensory overload of a place. You just pick your venue or barhop for the night, get drinks, ans enjoy some good music. Destroyed my legs though hahahaha.

Dorohedoro is a lot of fun though bizarre. I'm a bit of a cult classic sort of a girl. Which is a fancy way or saying my taste in media skews a little bizarre and "hipster".

Youre in luck then because like the proper narcissit that I am, I love talking about myself.

[wrongcaitlyn]

hello there, i come here on very important, very SERIOUS business. do you have any specific ideas on what nico and will look like in your fic? ive been wanting to draw fanart (at a later date im busier than ever this week) but i dont want to get how they look wrong c:

OHMYGOD OKAY OKAY IM SO SORRY FOR BEING LATE TO THIS BUT I WANTED TO PROPERLY RESPOND TO IT LIKE WITH FULL THOUGHTS AND EVERYTHING BECAUSE YOU ARE RIGHT THIS IS VERY VERY VERY IMPORTANT AND SERIOUS BUSINESS

okay so. my issue is that like i have a vague blur of them in my head that's kinda a mix of a bunch of fanart. i'm gonna tag a few artists that i think just capture the exact idea i have of them perfectly (in talk your talk, but also just like, in general, because i do picture them both pretty similarly in any au/fic):

@delicate-sketch is the first one and i think the most accurate (in my opinion and my brain because obviously there are a million ways to picture these charactersjsdf) of them all, i just- THEY ARE NICO AND WILL. LIKE. IT'S LITERALLY. PERFECTION. so i'd say that's the closest to the blurry images of people i have in my head, and also just the style of nico, i absolutely am obsessed with their art style!! most specifically nico. like. that. IS. nico.

@/aqua.en.llamas on insta also has the most incrediblee solangelo art, but even more specifically will. ive been the hugest fan of her for ages, have edited her fanart a few times - i think she was one of the first pjo artists that i followed back when i was getting into the fandom, so that may have definitely influenced my vision of will in my head!!

@svetalmeow 's will and nico is also. just. heart eyes. in an appreciating the art and the literally perfectly accurate depiction of the character way. I LITERALLY LOVE IT LIKSEJSDAF i would repost specific pieces of art but don't wanna do that without permission and also don't want to just choose one piece of art so like scroll through their entire page for wonderful wonderful solangelo

and then here's my brief and sort of bad description of how they look because honestly the only things i know how to describe are hair and clothes (and even the clothes bit is questionable)

will has curly short blond hair, but i imagine that it gets very frizzy a lot of the time and turns out looking more fluffy some of the time - but yeah okay here are some pics i just downloaded off pinterestSLKJDF

i'd say this is pretty close to how i imagine will's hair but again it's literally all blurry and also i suck at picturing faces in my head so like just go on vibes i trust that you'll do it well (and also, if it doesn't match my picture of them, that LITERALLY doesn't matter this is your art and feel free to draw them however you like!!)

then onto nico, i think the best way to describe it is just

conan gray-

KSDFJSDFS YEAH SORRY THAT'S IT. THAT'S REALLY IT I JUST. I PICTURE CONAN GRAYSLKDF but like maybe slightlyyyy shorter hair. his hair got super long during superache era (which was absolutely GORGEOUS AND ICONIC AND I LOVED IT) but yeah i think nico's was a bit shorter. just above the shoulder and lots of layers i'd say

as for clothing style, i think they're both pretty lazy dressers. like will's go-to is just any kind of tee-shirt (he has a lot of tour merch and that's like a good majority of his closet) or college merch like an nyu hoodie and baggy jeans or cargo pants, and nico is either wearing his own merch (literally just because there are, i imagine, a lot of messed up ones or like misprints and stuff and so he just takes whatever is messed up and shoves it in his own closet-) and lots of will's clothes. and then black jeans or sweatpans). the other portion of nico is if you're doing smth that he was styled for, in which it could be either smth super fancy (again, your best bet is prob looking up conan gray red carpet looksDSFLKJ) or like a leather jacket and a tee-shirt with some sort of skull or skeleton

as for features, i have absolutely zero clue, so there's no way to mess that up. there's no way to mess up at all, actually, and im SO EXCITED TO SEE WHAT YOU MAKE AHHGSDKF ILY <33

[certified-sleep-deprived]

Originally posted: Oct 5 2022

Anonymous asks:

Hi! If your still taking requests…

I'd like an Ink Bendy x Male reader, but with Bendy as the bottom? Thanks for the time, cheers

(yep I still do requests! Hope you enjoy! I'm not too good at writing MxM but I made it work the best I could. Also yes the blue text is the Dua Lipa song. Sorry if its not that good, ive been busy with school stuff lately so i havent had much time to draw or write)

~Good In Bed~

Ink Bendy x Male! Reader

Paring: Male x Male

Smut (18+)

Swearing

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🎵Yeah, let's get to the point here

You love to disappoint me, don't ya?

You tell me what I want but ain't no follow through

You don't follow through, no🎵

There against the wall, was the Ink Demon being manhandled by his lover, F/N. The human male made out with the demon in a sort of aggressive way, by pushing him into the wall. The demon moaned as F/N felt up the skinny demon, feeling every jut of bone.

🎵But if you only knew me

The way you know my body, baby

Then I think maybe we could probably see this through

We could make it through, but🎵

The human shoved the demon onto a nearby cot in the room and started caressing his chest as he ground his hips into him. F/N started to take his jeans off and soon came his boxers as his erection sprang free and Bendy groaned.

🎵I've been thinkin' it'd be better

If we didn't know each other

Then you go and make me feel okay

Got me thinkin' it'd be better

If we didn't stay together

Then you put your hands up on my waist🎵

F/N hopped onto Bendy's waist and straddled him. The demon started to writhe and whine for his lover to go all out on him. He did this on purpose, knowing how much Bendy could just flip him over and get what he want, he still stays on the bottom.

🎵I know it's really bad, bad, bad, bad, bad

Messin' with my head, head, head, head, head

We drive each other mad, mad, mad, mad, mad

But baby, that's what makes us good in bed🎵

F/N figured Bendy has had enough and plunged down on top of him, riding him at a slow pace. All the while the ink demon's moans and groans of pleasure giving F/N the drive to bounce faster on his girth. Bendy's moans only get louder and louder, being the bottom he is he tries to get more by thrusting up, but F/N comes off and says "If you want this, then you'll have to obide by my rules Bendy."

🎵Please

Come take it out on me, me, me, me, me

I know it's really bad, bad, bad, bad

But baby, that's what makes us good in bed

It's bad

We drive each other mad

It might be kinda sad

But I think that's what makes us good in bed🎵

He dropped down onto the demon again and rode him at a faster pace, knowing Bendy will cum soon and so will he, so he picks up the tempo of his bouncing to near the edge faster.

🎵I dedicate this verse to

All that good pipe in the moonlight

And the long nights where we did everything but talk it through

That's what we do, yeah

You always let me down, boy

But when you're going down I get so up

Don't know if I could find someone who do me like you do🎵

F/N brought Bendy into one last passionate kiss as he felt his shaft twitch inside of him. He felt up and down his curves and let out the last moan as Bendy shot his seed up inside of Y/N. Both panting, and out of breath from the steamy sex session the both of them just had.

🎵I've been thinkin' it'd be better

If we didn't know each other

Then you go and make me feel okay

Got me thinkin' it'd be better

If we didn't stay together

Then you put your hands up on my waist

I know it's really bad, bad, bad, bad, bad

Messin' with my head, head, head, head, head

We drive each other mad, mad, mad, mad, mad

But baby, that's what makes us good in bed

Please

Come take it out on me, me, me, me, me

I know it's really bad, bad, bad, bad

But baby, that's what makes us good in bed🎵

F/N got off of the demon and helped him up and soon began to put his clothes back on. "That was great, thank you baby" he gave the demon a kiss on the cheek and went back to lay down on the bed

🎵It's bad

We drive each other mad

It might be kinda sad

But I think that's what makes us good in bed

It's bad

We drive each other mad

It might be kinda sad

But I think that's what makes us good in bed

Yeah, we don't know how to talk

(Mm)

But damn, we know how to fuck🎵

The tall demon followed suit to his lover in the bed, tired and drenched in sweat and ink. It was a sight that Bendy loved to see. He got into the bed and wrapped his lanky arms around F/N's waist and dropped his head onto his shoulder. Purring and satisfied, Bendy got to sleep easily that night, no nightmares of Joey, no flashbacks of when he was first created, none of that. He was happy and content right here.

🎵I know it's really bad, bad, bad, bad, bad

Messin' with my head, head, head, head, head

We drive each other mad, mad, mad, mad, mad

But baby, that's what makes us good in bed

Please

Come take it out on me, me, me, me, me

I know it's really bad, bad, bad, bad

But baby, that's what makes us good in bed

It's bad

We drive each other mad

It might be kinda sad

But I think that's what makes us good in bed

It's bad

We drive each other mad

It might be kinda sad

But I think that's what makes us good in bed🎵

(Posting all my other oneshots and whatnot will take a bit so be patient please! Also if your the original person who requested this let me know so I can tag you! I couldn't tag you bc you changed your name :)

[eldritchmochi]

okay so, to have a place for consolidated information for the next little bit, since i'm sure folks have QUESTIONS given my incredibly aggressive gallows humour

MOCHI, WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH THAT?? (guts edition)

if you got here via a link, follow this link instead for the latest update here's updates 1.5, 2.0, and 3.0 !

tldr ive been getting a number of recurrent small bowel obstructions located in my duodenum (first part of the small intestine, connecting the stomach to the rest of the bowel) due to external pressure on the duodenum around the 3rd to 4th (of 4) section. what's causing the pressure?? no clue actually ive done a bazillion scans and none of them have been quite clear enough for a real confident dx so i get to have surgery about it at some point in the near future

current theory is the pressure is from some sort of non-cancerous tumor mass and the plan is to cut me open nice and big, look about, and remove both this mass and the affected section of the duodenum (.5 of an organ) at a minimum, but may involve fully bipassing the duodenum when my guts get hooked back up to my stomach which could (would???) also require removing my gallbladder (1 and 2 organs respectively) (i'm having so much yanked out of my abdomen this summer jfc)

atm i'm still waiting for scheduling to give me a call to set things up. surgeon's estimate was 4-5 weeks from now (8/17 when he called). from that point i'll spend a week-ish in the hospital to make sure all hoses are firmly affixed, and then i'll have a month at a minimum before i'm reasonably healed and can go back to normal life

i have good insurance and the luck (????) of being incredibly ill at the best of times, so i've already hit my out of pocket max and thus this WHOLE THING even back dating to my first er visit end of june will cost a whopping 189$ that i've already paid. i also should qualify for my states paid medical leave and my wife will get a hefty chunk of change for living expenses via student loans. however, both those things won't hit until late september at the earliest

long term, im not expecting much of a financial burden, but short term we could use a hand with groceries and similar while we wait for my backpay and my wife's student loans

for venmo and paypal: i am @/sumomomochi for both and either is fine, though pp is labeled as a business account so pls mark f&f if you can

i also have this amazon wishlist ( https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/N1NSTH3JPCX2?ref_=wl_share ) that is like 90% meal replacement shakes and bulk shelf stable snacks, but also has a couple of other useful things like bathing wipes since i am unlikely to be able to shower well post surgery, pj pants for when it cools down (i went up a size with t because my ass and thighs got just so beefy and thus have one pair that fits rn lmao), and cat food for the penni (gotta keep my nurse well paid)

uuuh what else

like i said, i'm incredibly ill at the best of times so i am a champ at weathering this sort of stuff its nbd. "i'm sorry"s are not helpful, i'd much rather have people ask direct specific questions, either about my health status or things i'm doing to keep busy (ie "any new and fun things causing tummy issues?" or "hows your battle vest coming?" or "whats your fav line youve written this week?"). engagement and entertainment is Important to keep me from climbing the walls but i swear i will bite at straight sympathy

things ive been doing to keep me out of the er include: laying on my left side or stomach (The Digestion Position; helps get food past the squished part); eating a semi-liquid diet (hence ensure, jello, pudding, the like, though its important that i also eat solid food as much as is tolerated, which is such a delicate balance. this is why i cannot currently work); going on stupid little walks for my stupid digestive health (honestly the most important thing i can do, which im mad about, because it requires pants, but not only encourages guts to digest but also will help me not decondition, which i have already done a lot of :I)

things YOU can do to help (because i know *i* am a helper but also what is actually helpful??): financially with the above deets (no pressure); asks, comments, and other conversational interactions (i am absolutely chill with basically any kind of question and i dont mind dms if youd prefer privacy, just dont pedestal me i promise i am just A Dude); fanart for my fics (i do not care if you "cant draw" i will still love it); prompts for fandom but not necessarily fic projects (wardrobe moodboards/meta for characters, playlists/songs, smut writing how to questions, cosplay progress/plans qs, those "what was x's pov in this scene/what specifically happened between x and y in this fic?" qs andor other ask meme things idk dude i haven't been able to do shit for almost three months im booooored)

in conclusion

nurse penni says do not worry about herb patient, he is in good hands, just be sure to offer regular enrichment