#I also like don't use Spotify so rip :(

[vinnymauro]

in order to save some money i am cancelling certain subscriptions and man it hurts a lil.

[stellophiliac]

how to build a digital music collection and stuff

spotify sucks aaaass. so start downloading shit!!

file format glossary

.wav is highest quality and biggest

.mp3 is very small, but uses lossy compression which means it's lower quality

.flac is smaller than .wav, but uses lossless compression so it's high quality

.m4a is an audio file format that apple uses. that's all i really know

downloading the music

doubledouble.top is a life saver. you can download from a variety of services including but not limited to apple music, spotify, soundcloud, tidal, deezer, etc.

i'd recommend ripping your music from tidal or apple music since they're the best quality (i think apple music gives you lossless audio anyway. .m4a can be both lossy and lossless, but from the text on doubledouble i assume they're ripping HQ files off apple music)

i also love love love cobalt.tools for ripping audio/video from youtube (they support a lot of other platforms too!)

of course, many artists have their music on bandcamp — purchase or download directly from them if you can. bandcamp offers a variety of file formats for download

file conversion

if you're downloading from apple music with doubledouble, it spits out an .m4a file.

.m4a is ok for some people but if you prefer .flac, you may wanna convert it. ffmpeg is a CLI (terminal) tool to help with media conversion

if you're on linux or macOS, you can use parameter expansion to batch convert all files in a folder. put the files in one place first, then with your terminal, cd into the directory and run:

for i in *.m4a; do ffmpeg -i "$i" "${i%.*}.flac"; done

this converts from .m4a to .flac — change the file extensions if needed.

soulseek

another way to get music is through soulseek. soulseek is a peer-to-peer file sharing network which is mainly used for music. nicotine+ is a pretty intuitive (and open-source) client if you don't like the official one.

you can probably find a better tutorial on soulseek somewhere else. just wanted to make this option known

it's bad etiquette to download from people without sharing files of your own, so make sure you've got something shared. also try to avoid queuing up more than 1-2 albums from one person in a row

tagging & organizing your music

tagging: adding metadata to a music file (eg. song name, artist name, album) that music players can recognize and display

if you've ripped music from a streaming platform, chances are it's already tagged. i've gotten files with slightly incorrect tags from doubledouble though, so if you care about that then you might wanna look into it

i use musicbrainz picard for my tagging. they've got pretty extensive documentation, which will probably be more useful than me

basically, you can look up album data from an online database into the program, and then match each track with its file. the program will tag each file correctly for you (there's also options for renaming the file according to a certain structure if you're into that!)

there's also beets, which is a CLI tool for... a lot of music collection management stuff. i haven't really used it myself, but if you feel up to it then they've got extensive documentation too. for most people, though, it's not really a necessity

how you wanna organize your music is completely up to you. my preferred filestructure is:

artist > album > track # track

using a music player

the options for this are pretty expansive. commonly used players i see include VLC, foobar2000, clementine (or a fork of it called strawberry), and cmus (for the terminal)

you can also totally use iTunes or something. i don't know what audio players other systems come with

i personally use dopamine. it's a little bit slow, but it's got a nice UI and is themeable plus has last.fm support (!!!)

don't let the github page fool you, you don't have to build from source. you can find the releases here

click the "assets" dropdown on the most recent release, and download whichever one is compatible with your OS

syncing

if you're fine with your files just being on one device (perhaps your computer, but perhaps also an USB drive or an mp3 player), you don't have to do this

you can sync with something like google drive, but i hate google more than i hate spotify

you can get a free nextcloud account from one of their providers with 2GB of free storage. you can use webDAV to access your files from an app on your phone or other device (documents by readdle has webDAV support, which is what i use)

disroot and blahaj.land are a couple providers i know that offer other services as well as nextcloud (so you get more with your account), but accounts are manually approved. do give them a look though!!

if you're tech-savvy and have an unused machine lying around, look into self-hosting your own nextcloud, or better yet, your own media server. i've heard that navidrome is a pretty good audio server. i unfortunately don't have experience with self-hosting at the moment so i have like zero advice to give here. yunohost seems to be a really easy way to manage a server

afterword

i don't know if any of this is helpful, but i just wanted to consolidate my personal advice in one place. fuck big tech. own your media, they could take it away from you at any moment

[yourauthorjen]

| GOLDEN HOUR | — joaquin torres

(requests open)

masterlist

| synopsis: | it was just two lovers, sitting on the car listening to Blonde, falling for each other.

| includes: | joaquintorres x fem!reader, fluff, friends to lovers, mutual pining, angst, flirting, sunsets, use of nicknames/pet names, mention of reader being bullied, alcohol consumption

| word count: | 2.1k

| a/n: | so i was listening to golden hour by jvke (if you couldn’t tell and i felt like i really had to write a scene of this. and i feel like this turned out a lot better than expected. the ending was lowkey rushed because i wanted to get this out asap.

FALL HAD JUST settled in, meaning that bonfire season had finally begun. Invitations to beach bonfires were handed out like party favours, alcohol and beer aisles had been stripped clean, and everyone was now making a beeline to their nearest beaches.

Unfortunately, Joaquin had also persuaded you into joining their shenanigans, which was why you were now stuck in his passenger seat, sulking with several cans of beer that had already become lukewarm.

“Admit it asshat, we’re lost,” you grumbled, watching him furrow his eyebrow at a passing highway sign.

"We're not lost," he said though he didn't sound too sure. "We're just... taking the scenic route."

"What you're saying is exactly what someone who's lost would say."

He didn't argue, just grinned like he always did, so full of himself but in a way you absolutely adored.

You sighed, staring out the window. The sun was dipping lower as you drove, shadows stretching across the road, painting he sky with golden and orange hues. You ripped apart one the plastic rings holding the beer cans together, and cracked the drink open.

"This is not the way to the beach," you mumbled, taking a long swig of beer, "Look, we're driving across a highway on a cliff, meaning the elevation is higher and we’re no where near getting down to the sand and water."

"C'mon mi vida,” he said “Don't be so grumpy. Consider it quality time with me."

You pretended to gag, but your heart skipped a beat at the nickname. "It's not quality time when you practically begged me to go with you. Why couldn't you go with someone else?"

He mocked a hurt face, "Because deep down you love me, and you still agreed to come with me in the end."

You jabbed a finger into his arm, "It’s called tolerating you, Joaquin. And don't let it get to your head."

"Too late," he hummed, and you let out a more than dramatic exhale. He was your closest friend the two of you glued to each others side ever since high school, and now through college. He was the person you found yourself running towards to no matter the occasion. He had taken you to prom when no one else asked you, he had picked up your broken pieces when everyone you know left you. He had lived through bruised knuckles and broken fingers when you couldn't muster the courage to defend yourself from people you called friends.

And as much as you wanted to tell him the words you spent years locked up in your chest, you couldn't tell him, because you were too afraid of what the consequences could lead to.

Instead you turned back to the window, and as you stared you couldn't help but notice the way the sky spilled in different colours across the horizon, the clouds gradient shades of lavender and peach, which if you were being honest was stunning.

Eventually, the road dipped and twisted again, taking you farther away from any recognizable landmark. The highway was secluded and silent, and as your fingers fidgeted nervously you finally decided to flick on the radio, humming as it turned to life.

"Frank Ocean? Really?"

"Hey," you interjected, "You don't get a say on this, not after you threw away my perfectly fine Spotify gift card."

"It was an accident!" he protested, “Besides I bought you a new one right after."

"Okay soldier, eyes on the road."

After a few more silent minutes of driving and twisting back and fourth around turns, Joaquin slowed the car and pulled off onto a gravel shoulder near a bend in the road that looked out over the sprawling ocean bathed in the last warmth of the day.

He cut the engine as you turned to him bewildered. "What're you doing?"

"Taking a break," he said, eyes glittering, "I'm gonna try and get some cell service."

The GPS on both your phones had long since stopped offering any useful guidance, opting instead to chirp the same same "GPS Signal Lost" every few miles.

You sighed, though your lips still twitched upwards against your will. He wasn't wrong, it was cooler up here, the wind catching your hair as you propped yourself onto the hood of Joaquin's car, letting yourself shut your eyes and enjoying the soft glow of sunshine casting onto your face.

"Well, that's one hell of a view." Joaquin said, joining you as he sat on top of the car, his shoulder brushing yours. "What do you think? This better than the bonfire?"

You cracked one eye open, pretending to ponder. "I don't know Joaquin, with the distinct possibility that we might be stranded here all night instead of me drinking beer until I fall face first into the sand really sounds a lot better."

Joaquin let out a laugh, deep and heartfelt, his dark curls falling into his eyes as his amused smile widened. It made your chest ache, seeing him so carefree and untroubled, the sunlight bringing out the gold flecks in his brown eyes. He smelled like spices and a hint of pine and with his hair tousled artfully, it made your resolve wobble just a little.

"Fine," you admitted, "I guess this is pretty okay."

"Just okay?"

You rolled your eyes. “Do you want me to take it back?"

“I’m just saying,” he replied, his lips curling into a smirk, “if this were a date, it wouldn't be bad.”

Your breath caught a little but you tilted your head toward him, trying to keep your voice light. “Is it a date?”

He looked back at you, his smile faltering in a way that told you for once there wasn't some ridiculous joke waiting behind it. “Would it be the worst thing if it was?”

The world seemed to still for a moment- a change shifting your world drastically, as his eyes found yours full of love and admiration she hadn't seen before. He waited for a response, but the only thing you could muster was a weak shake of your head, anxiety bubbling in your stomach.

The silence between the two of you was palpable, and the music that was still playing in the car faded into nothing. Instead you were filled with the pounding of your heart crashing louder than the waves below.

"Friends don't usually go on dates, right?" you attempted meekly, taking a shaky breath.

His jaw ticked as he shifted towards you, his body facing yours and his eyes flickering with an expression that you couldn't tell if he was about to cry, laugh, or say something sarcastic. But when he finally spoke his voice was raw, painful, and quiet in a way that made your throat constrict.

"No. No they don't."

"Joaquin..." you tried, eyes pleading as you realized your mistake, "I didn't... I-"

"It's okay," he said softly, "I get it."

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, tears threatening at the corners of your eyes, before you grabbed his hands. They were warm but rough, his fingers curled around yours as you squeezed them tightly, silently begging for him not to leave.

He seemed to understand as you moved closer to him, close enough that your faces were only a few feet apart. You were close enough that your noses were almost touching, and close enough that you could see your reflection in his pupils. His eyes widened as your hair fell into your face, almost like a curtain hiding you away from the world as you leaned your forehead against his.

"No,” you pleaded again the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. “I love you, and I love you so much that I don't want to mess this up for the two of us."

His own eyes turned glassy as his forehead tipped forward to press more firmly against yours, like he needed to feel every inch of you, like just being that close wasn’t quite close enough.

“I don’t care if we mess it up,” he whispered, “I care if we don’t try.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, fingers wrapping tighter around his. "I don’t… Please don't let me mess this up."

“You the part where I pretended I haven’t been in love with you since the first time we met?"

You cracked a watery smile as he pulled his hands out of yours, and gently cupped his hands to your face as he dipped his head and began pulling you closer and closer until—

His lips found yours, sweet with a hint of salt, and a taste that felt raw but so true. Your heart collided with your chest, as your hands found a way up to his jacket, fingers scrunching up around the fabric as he deepened the kiss.

This wasn't a drunken kiss you had once shared after a night out at the bar, nor was this the sisterly peck on the cheek you sometimes gave him for fun. This was something that you had never felt before, the warmth, the passion, and the love that you both felt so strongly for each other.

Your hands glimpsed the outline of his broad shoulders, as you both finally pulled away from each other. Your eyes darted over his sun-kissed face, and you couldn't help the stutter in your chest as his eyes softened.

"I love you too,” Joaquin breathed, "And if we’re stuck here for the rest of the night than so be it.”

You smiled—really smiled—and the heavy weight that had weighed you down for so many years finally lifted off your shoulders. It was the kind of feeling that no beach party or crowded bonfire could’ve given you.

“Then let’s get stranded,” you said, voice hoarse, as you leaned your head against his shoulder.

Below you, the ocean stretched out endlessly, waves brushing the cliffs with a rhythm older than any map or compass. The sky had darkened to indigo, with just barely visible streaks of orange dotting the horizon. The stars were beginning to prick through the veil of night, and you could still hear the music from the radio playing low through the speakers—melancholy, and soft.

You felt the time slow down around you as you let Joaquin circle an arm around your waist. You let yourself be engulfed in this content moment, carefree and abiding.

You had Joaquin now.

And somehow, that felt like the way home was always supposed to look.

[madwomansapologist]

IF YOU'RE SICK LIGHT A CANDLE (JUST DON'T ASK ME TO LEAVE) | N. KENTO

synopsis ; kento never intended to hate you. it wasn’t his fault. he won't steal from you the credit of being the most irritating omega alive, not when you work so hard to deserve the title. his only fault, and for that kento takes all the blame, is his inability to stay away from you. not that he wants to.

tags ; no curses, omegaverse, office au, meet ugly, alpha nanami x beta-passing omega reader, one sided delusional hate to love, fell first/feel harder? more like fell flat on their faces with those untied shoes, nanami kento the yearning final boss, heavy on possessiveness, love confessions, reader's autistic, explicit sexual content ft. virginity loss (nanami), blowjob, facesitting, knotting, heat, lowkey sub!nanami.

warnings ; 13K words (give it a chance), gender expectations being surreal and bad past relationships.

also ; ao3 link | spotify playslist | pinterest board

[ignored lessons]

First day into elementary school, blonde hair combed to exhaustion and round glasses with thick lenses, Kento wrote down everything that sounded important. Languages are ancient, his meticulous handwriting occupied the very first line of the notebook. Black ink, underlined twice.

Annoyingly meticulous handwriting, since Kento remember being mocked by a taller boy for ripping out one of the pages after a misspell. He also remembers it being something about words as evidence of how long mankind survived—by the time he didn’t know what mankind meant. His teacher was too old and far too poetic but learning new words made Kento excited for Mondays.

Weeks later, Kento had a secret: he loved studying. He despised school around his friends, but Kento always knew what chapter the teacher finished off last class or what pages to read for the next exam. The first week of school meant discovering the semester’s mandatory reading—Kento would devour it all in a month.

His family praised him for being smart, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that Kento wouldn’t believe once they started saying words can lose meaning if not used right. That’s the opposite of what his literature teacher spent the entire year explaining. He has his notebook to prove it.

“If they did”, Kento reasoned with his dad as if he was the adult. “Not a single language would have survived. You yell my name all the time and I still answer. It has the same meaning as it ever did.”

“Some words, if used too often, will lose meaning inside of your heart”, his dad sighed. “Hate is one of those words. One you use way too much, puppy.”

That made Kento snarl. “I’m eight and a half!”

“On that we won’t argue”, he grinned. Messing up the hair Kento combed for ages, he went back to slicing vegetables. Without washing his hands first, Kento quietly judged him. “You’re just like your mom. I bet you’ll be an alpha.”

Kento pretended to agree since he planned on not eating green bell pepper at dinner. His father should be grateful that he isn’t an adult already, because Adult Kento wouldn’t fear disgusting food as punishment for saying the truth. Adult Kento wouldn’t be ashamed of being right. Adult Kento wouldn’t be ashamed of being himself.

As if presenting as an omega or beta would stop him from questioning what doesn’t make sense. And that whole story about losing meaning inside his heart? If I forget the meaning of a word, Kento cursed inside his bedroom, I can just read a dictionary.

His father was being unfair and Kento absolutely hates that.

He thought adults didn’t need to agree with illogical arguments, but years later Adult Kento was made aware of his past self’s mistake. The countless times he heard that hate is such a strong word without uttering a response. One that he shouldn’t be so casual about. Otherwise, they always warn, it’ll turn meaningless.

Needless to say, Kento hates illogical arguments. And he hates his neighbor’s predisposition to loud music. Not charging his phone at night, working overtime, stumbling on a stair in the dark. Green bell pepper, as one does. And you. Recently, Kento hates you the most.

Better wage, same workhours, different boss: it was a good offer. Good enough for Kento to submit his resignation letter and start as an accountant in this firm. Annoying tasks, tense meetings, coffee machine out of order: with this salary, nothing would be a problem for Kento. But you had to ruin it.

After a quick meeting with the manager and being introduced to the financial team, Kento placed his briefcase on the desk designated for him. That is, on what little space was left for him. He sighed for the first time that day.

Frames lacking pictures, empty perfume flask, crumpled posts its. There was a mug filled with pens and a hairbrush, yet most of them were all over the place. Who needs that many pens? Who uses pens nowadays? The pen-hairbrush mug had lipstick marks on.

Kento sighed for the second time when he looked at the desk beside his.

It’s clear his colleague doesn’t know the basics of a keyboard, considering the bag—among many colorful brooches he found one with the omega symbol—pressing P onto an open page. Neither do they understand that one shouldn’t pile used plastic cups and folded science magazines on top of a printer. A vase of magnolias was a surprise amidst all that mess. One Kento quickly forgot, his right eyelid twitching at the sight of acetone and nail polish near piles of documents.

“Morning”, an energetic voice scared Kento off his thoughts. He suppressed a snarl with ease. “You’re the new accountant, right?”

He expected you to be embarrassed but all Kento saw was an omega far more interest in her coffee than his face. As if you could even taste coffee with that much whipped cream. Staring at your eyelids, he didn’t notice the third sigh.

What he noticed was your fully exposed throat. No adhesive patch over your glands or collar around your neck. Golden bracelets covered part of your inner wrists, tinkling pendants bringing more attention to your bare glands.

Thankfully, there was no nauseating scent—a side effect of his suppressants. There was no scent at all coming from you. Good. It would feel like a bad omen to throw up on his first day at this job.

Kento could never go out like that. A dark blue collar covered the base of his neck, thick leather bracelets doing the same beneath his sleeves. He has spares on his briefcase and a flask of black pepper perfume―the only Kento ever found able of covering his natural scent. And it only works because of the hellish amount of suppressants he ingests daily.

That doesn’t mean he judges you for not using anything to cover your scent. The opposite of his, yours is delicate enough to go unnoticed without effort. Still, he would bet money that you forgot to buy an adhesive patch on. And for that Kento does judge you.

“Yes, I am”, he bent down, trying to remain polite. “Nanami Kento.”

“No need for formalities”, you gestured for him to stood up. Posture fixed, Kento watched you unlock the second drawer of your desk. In quick movements, you put all your mess inside the drawer and lock it once more.

Sitting down, you smiled. It reached your eyes, baring your fangs to him. “Welcome.” After telling him your name, you took a sip from the so-called coffee and grabbed your bag. “I’m here if you need any help.”

Kento made a silent promise to never ever come to you if he needed help.

Erasing everything your bag pressed, you searched for something inside it and quickly forgot about Kento’s existence. He threw away a few ignored crumbled papers and came back to his desk to find you holding a headset.

Not only you didn’t care about the organization of your workplace, but you were also unable to apologize or even collect all your things on your own. And as if it wasn’t enough, you offered help just to immediately make sure Kento wouldn’t be able to talk to you.

Adult Kento realized that, to a certain extent, his father was right. That same lesson he heard time and time again, even after his dad claimed to have given up on making him understand, was correct. Inside his heart, the word hate lost its meaning. You and loud music can’t be described with the same word. Maybe he really shouldn’t have used it so often…

No. Kento realized that wasn’t the problem. This isn’t about a word losing meaning, but simply about it not being the correct choice to describe what Kento feels about you.

Within knowing you for less than two minutes, he knew. Kento loathed you.

He’s so nice, you put the noise canceling headset to check on the presentation for today’s meeting. You made a mental note to search in your folders for the introductory material to send him. He didn’t care about all this mess. I’ll get him some coffee later.

--

[heavy silence]

College was a sour disillusion. He didn’t want to, he couldn’t, but Kento had to face the facts: he wouldn’t learn much there. Not to say his professors weren’t qualified—they all made sure to overexplain their resumes. They were simply incompetent at teaching.

Celebrating with wine that didn’t deserve the bottle it was on, Kento hung his diploma below old shelves and went on with his life. All by himself. Kento came to regret that later. He wondered how it would feel like. To have someone to celebrate with. Vinegar wine and all that.

At job interviews he would say his college years taught him to communicate, collect problem solver abilities and manage to work as a team. The truth? The most important lesson Kento taught himself was how to make lists.

Concepts not fully explained, names no professor bothered to spell out, books mentioned on the thirtieth’s slide footnote. The only thing Kento carried to his classes were an agenda and pens. After his lists of what seemed important were done, he would head home and try to learn something before his shift. Once he got it, Kento would risk the topic and move on.

It was addictive. Marking a task as complete. From what bills to pay to what groceries to buy; if it was something Kento could divide into smaller tasks, it became easier to accomplish. Suddenly he didn’t have to clean his entire house, only to do the dishes.

(Later, Kento noticed a weird pattern. Most of his lists had seven points.)

His phone replaced the crumpled agenda, but nothing replaced this ceaseless need to organize his life. An urge that simply evolved as the years passed. Boxes checked disguised as caution.

A month into this workplace and a couple of lists already occupied his phone. Kento annotated daily and weekly tasks before the pattern haunting the corner of his desk was noticed. Unable to unsee it, Annoying Moments was created.

And there wasn’t a working day all boxes weren’t checked.

She’ll say hello by handing me an awful coffee mug.

She’ll greet every single person.

She’ll comment on the weather.

She’ll invite me to lunch with other accountants.

She won’t throw away a plastic cup.

She’ll joke about something I don’t know.

She’ll smile at me before clocking off.

Until the morning you weren’t there.

Your absence meant no small talk or sugary coffee for Kento to endure. Nails tapping his part of the desk, smiles to not reciprocate and forgotten trash for him to ignore. It also meant no boxes checked but for once Kento couldn’t care.

It was a good day. A productive one as well considering Kento waited for the weekly meeting to start rather than rushing to the conference room. The problem was that he saw you there, too.

You weren’t late. There wouldn’t be a coffee with whipped cream beside your notebook if you were. Kento lost track of you in the crowded elevator, spellbound by the blend of too many scents, but back at his desk you were still not there. Absent, just like your flower vase.

She must have been promoted, Kento continued to work. Good for her, good for me.

As usual, Kento was the last one to go home. He stretched and unwrinkled his suit, checking if the collar around his neck was in the right place. Kento grabbed his air pods and turned off the lights.

“Hey! I’m here.”

Kento eyes widened. A beat later, he turned around and saw a blue glim at the back of the office. He really thought to be alone. There was no scent to proof him wrong. Good thing Kento overgrew talking to himself when concentrating.

Kento turned on the lights. “Have a good night.”

A head rose above the sea of computers. “You too”, you waved at him. No smile to be seen. Not even a small one.

The elevator door was about to close when Kento headed back into the office. Not knowing why or what he would do, Kento walked to your desk prepared to surprise himself with whatever words come out of his mouth. Staring at the empty flower vase, he hesitated.

His presence didn’t surprise you. Nothing new. Kento could never totally hide his scent. It doesn’t matter how many suppressants are forced down his throat or what collars he puts on. Kento is too much, it doesn’t matter if he tries not to.

“New desk”, Kento gave a try at small talk.

You glanced at him, then went back at typing. “Even someone stupid like me can understand when my presence isn’t welcome”, you hummed, attention shattered. “Good night.”

He should’ve gone home. Just as he should’ve stayed in the elevator. Instead, Kento found himself acting on a whim for the second time that day—second time that week, month, year. He sat down.

Watching you attach files to an email, Kento tried to understand what made you think that of him. Besides the fact he does not welcome your presence in any sense. Kento never noticed he expressed so clearly his inner thoughts. Although it makes him want to snarl sometimes, Kento remains polite no matter what.

“You saw it”, he stated. It was the only viable option.

“Annoying Moments.” Kento heard no grudge on your voice. It just made him feel worse. “I was right beside you when you opened it. Happens all the time.”

His entrails burned. “People make lists about you all the time?”, Kento managed to utter.

“No. That was a first.” Glancing over everything, you searched for any typos. After finding none, you faced Kento. You did enough for today. “People think I’m not around because I have no scent. Don’t apologize. Don’t bother pretending you’re sorry. You’re only embarrassed for being caught up acting so childish.”

Your honesty is sharp. It cuts deep. Unlike his omissions for the sake of a peaceful coexistence. There was no secret meaning he had to look for. You’re not ashamed of being yourself, hiding beneath layers of politeness. Your heart is at the tip of your tongue, beating at your every word.

Kento swallowed his pride. It hurt him to reciprocate your gaze—unaware of you biting your tongue to not laugh at his blushing cheeks. “Why are you here?”

You blinked twice. “I’m working.”

“It’s late”, he said. “You’re never here at night.”

You turned everything off. His left eye twitched at you using the flared end of your high heel to press the CPU’s energy button without closing any of the open pages.

“This request took more time than I’ve imagined. No. I’ve been telling this lie all day. I forgot about it completely. And you?”

“Working overtime.”

“Of course you are”, you stood up, stretching your arms as you walked towards the elevator. Kento followed you and pressed the last button. “You seem like the type.”

“The type to what?”

Feeling it all moving down, you closed your eyes and imagined your soft bed waiting for you. It didn’t help to make you feel less tired. “To live to work.”

“You seem like the type, too”, Kento stared at your closed eyelids. “To forget important things.”

You opened an eye. He looked away. “Because I am. Will you add that to your list?”

“No”, Kento crossed his arms. “It doesn’t particularly annoy me.”

That earned Kento a good laugh. Not a chuckle, roll of eyes or polite smile. A loud, tempestuous laugh. Kento could almost feel it vibrating on your chest, fangs glistening as you failed to breathe. The type of laugh that hurts a tiny bit. His exhaustion faded away.

As you shrank in yourself, hands covering your face as if laughing would be enough to make it fall out of place, Kento noticed something new. A scent faint yet evocative. So delicate it would’ve been ignored if you two weren’t alone in a closed space. Saline and distant, like a half-forgotten memory of the sea.

You smelled like vacations.

With an acute bell the door opened and revealed the underground parking. You headed out first. Motionless, Kento stared at your back. He couldn’t look away. You waved at him, laughter transmuted into a tender smile.

“Good night, Nanami-kun”, your words reached him in soft waves. Nothing like the effortless tone he heard minutes before. It made him want to tell another joke. “See you tomorrow.”

Kento breathed deep, not feeling nauseous at all.

--

[not apologizing]

It took you a few hours to realize. Staring at the empty spot on the desk, you doubted yourself. Did the vase really disappear, or did you just forget you took it home with you? You do that all the time. Assume having lost things you put somewhere else.

The realization hits when you smell flowers in the air. It made you turn your head, following the invisible path the gentle perfume made to reach your nose. A blonde head became the focus of your gaze. And beside it, that old vase filled with lilies and gardenias.

“What’s with the smile?”, Shoko murmured. As your gaze flicked, her black eyes had already landed on her wristwatch. Counting down the minutes, she sighed. “Thought of something funny?”

“Not really. Just feeling proud”, you said. “Found something I almost lost.”

It was supposed to overwhelm you. Different scents and artificial perfumes. For omegas and alphas, it would be normal for it to be too much sometimes. It would be fine to feel as if the air unsheathed a weapon design to bring you down.

It all is too little for you. You don’t notice scents unless someone ignores your personal space. Your fangs hurt if you use them to cut meat. Those uncontrollable primal desires you heard of have never been more than a concept. Unforgiven urges seem to be forgiven when it comes to you.

Presenting a secondary gender should make you feel different. Still the same, but now aware of something new. Like finding the last piece of a puzzle in your pocket. You already saw most of the landscape. It would make no real difference to see the bottom of a mountain. But now you see the picture wholly, it’s just as you’ve imagined, and it still does make a difference.

You presented as an omega two years ago. Not as a preteen, which is the most common, nor in your teenager years. It was as an adult, with an adult job and adult bills to pay. No inner revelation, all you got from it were exhaustive heats and scentless glands.

Too little where you should be too much, according to the last omega you dated. You got used to saying you’re a beta to avoid invasive questions—although betas notice scents and an omega on heat would be mistaken as someone applying too much perfume by you. She said lying was less embarrassing than the truth.

Presenting as an omega, you found the last piece. It didn’t fit into the landscape anymore, too crumpled to be useful. You think it depends on who you ask. If an incomplete puzzle is worth the time it demands.

“That’s a change of pace for you”, Shoko stood up, absentmindedly grabbing her jacket. “I’ll use the bathroom and then I’m ready to go.”

You moved as well. Leaning on the desk, your fingers rubbed the scratches from all the times you dropped something on it. The flowers tide up nicely with a blue-ribbon bow keeping them together. There was even a coffee mug.

“I’ve told you not to apologize.”

Before concentrating on his notebook, Kento stared at you with what you assume to be the closest he can get from looking surprised. His eyebrows moved slightly up. Or maybe you’re imagining things.

“I’m not.” Kento took off his glasses. He opened his drawer, then a box, and got a tissue to clean it. Huh. When you remember to wear glasses, you clean them on whatever blouse you’re on. “I’ve meant to tell you to enjoy your sugar bomb. It’s cold now.”

You took a sip of it anyway. Instant regret. Every muscle on your face squirmed in directions you never thought to be possible. It all came in waves. “You think”, it took everything on you to not throw up. “You think a human being can ingest this much sugar?”

Kento frowned. Now it has moved, you’re sure of it. You think. “I didn’t put that much.”

“You could kill a small horse with that”, you put the mug down. “Congrats, Nanami-kun. You created a weapon of mass destruction.”

Kento chuckled. “Of said horses?”

It couldn’t even be considered a laugh. All Kento did was exhale through his teeth, lips stretching just enough to make his cheeks move. It was his brown eyes that took you by surprise. The way they softened, showing that his malicious tone had no malice at all.

You hesitate, biting your tongue to stop yourself from saying the wrong thing. You didn’t want his eyes to come back to what they usually are. Disinterest, almost apathetic if not by the stress they carry so visibly. Kento seemed happier now and you didn’t want to ruin this.

“Small horses”, you corrected. His lips tugged higher.

A coat landed on your lap, shaking you away from your howling thoughts. It saved you from drowning in his glassy eyes.

Shoko nodded to Kento, the adhesive scent block on her neck as a prove Satoru was also ready to go out. Who else would dare to put digimon stickers on it if not him? Who else would annoy her enough not to notice them?

“What about soba and beer?”, Shoko thought out loud more than asked you. 

“I’m not feeling hungry”, you battled against the buttons on your coat. Kento felt his left eye twitching. Protected from the cold outside, you smiled at yourself. “Beer for me, I guess.”

“It’s a nice place, Nanami. Peaceful even at Friday nights”, Shoko didn’t bother to spell out her invitation. She gestured for you to follow her. “They’re waiting for us.”

“You should come, too.” Careful not to harm it, you removed a lily from the vase. Nose against the petals, you looked at him. “But you won’t.”

It was a nice place. Away from the crowded streets, warm and cozy. Soba came with tempura and grilled mochi. Shoko discovered the stickers on her own. Friday nights fit perfectly with cold beer, which in turn begs for laughter. Yours hit him in waves, dissipating months of stress.

Kento wondered why he ate by himself until now.

--

[broken promise]

You pressed every button on the printer until it decided to work with you instead of against. “For the first week or so you will basically watch us work”, you sighed at the inkless paper. At least it was warm. “Those documents have everything there is to know about your daily activities.”

“And now…?” Nobara started, staring at the tulips in front of your bag. Her earrings, fluffy balls of white fur, made you forget about the rebellious machine. “What do I do?”

Kento stood up, you took a step back as he walked towards the printer. He pressed on the lid, searching for a gap to open it. Checking on the ink cartridges, Kento gestures at the row of computers near the wall. “Log on your account, read those documents and then come back here.”

Once the alpha was sat beside Megumi, Kento turned to you. “Do you know where they stock up?”

You guided him to the office warehouse. Turning the lights on, you looked for the right shelf. “Can you believe it?”, you whispered once he closed the door. “Third intern in a week.”

“At this rate we won’t go a day without training someone”, said Kento. He saw no reason to whisper, not when there was no one else in the room but you two. “I was barely trained. How can I teach these kids?”

“Your work is flawless”, you explained. Cartridges found, you kneeled to get the right type. “If you had made a mistake or two, they wouldn’t give you more.”

“Why haven’t you made a mistake or two? Yaga said you will train another boy next week.”

You looked up at him, a grin spread across your face. “I make mistakes all the time, I’m just usually the first to notice them.”

“Weird thing to be proud of”, Kento leaned against the shelves. You hand him the cartridges, cleaning your knees. Mirroring him, you stared at the white wall. The world was quiet inside this small room. “Thank you. For training them with me. And sorry for asking that.”

“I’ve told you when we first meet. I’m here if you need any help”, you inhaled. “We need to come back, don’t we?”

Kento nodded. None of you moved.

“What do you need to print?”, he asked. Kento didn’t care about the answer, just as you didn’t about the question. Hours teaching the same thing for the third time made his head throb. Without exchanging words, you two agreed to avoid working for a bit longer.

“I’m trying to remember”, you shrugged. “Her earrings distracted me.”

Kento glanced at you. He searched for your eyes, then went back at imagining shapes on the strange pattern in which the wall was painted. “Are you always like this? Unconcerned?”

You pouted, unsure of what to answer. “I think so”, you tilted your head. “Are you always stern? Every time I look at you, I remember to fix my posture.”

He chuckled. Back stiff, arms contracted, feet pointing forward. “I think so.”

“I would need to be tortured to act as methodic as you do”, you breathed. It sounded like a melody. Lilac high heels in front of his brow dress shoes, you took the cartridges from him. Your fingers brushed on the leather bracelet tight around his wrists. “But again, as soon as it stops hurting, I would come back to my old sloth self.”

Kento waited for you to take a step back. You didn’t. How could he expect that from you, someone that doesn’t flush or look away? Did you notice how close you are? That your hands were still touching him? Silky words, gentle eyes, soft skin. Would falling for such temptation be his fault? Kento could do it. Take the blame and the last step between you both. If he did, face against your neck in search of that inebriating scent once more, would it even be wrong?

“Are you ready to deal with those interns again?”

Awakened by your voice, a heartbeat later Kento understood it was a question. “You can go first”, he mumbled, hand rubbing his lips.

Door closed, Kento clenched his fists. He was salivating. Aching fangs pressed against his tongue, heart wild inside his chest. Taking deep breaths to calm down, Kento stopped scenting the room.

Like an overexcited teenager, Kento almost laughed at the thought. He never did that as a teenager.

Kento never loses control of himself. Efficient in everything he sets out to do, which includes suppressing what doesn’t benefit him. Instincts, scent, urges, ruts: all useless nuisances. Ignored to the core, forgotten until a break on his suppressants is needed for medical exams.

One touch and he forgot all that. One step too close, one word too soft, and his restraint was gone.

You’re a mess. You walk around without scent blockers, skip meals if you don’t feel like getting up, don’t get mad when you should. You bare your fangs in every smile. An incorrigible slothful, too lazy to lie to others or to yourself.

If he reminds you to fix your posture, you remind Kento to breath in.

Only an idiot wouldn’t forget about restraint near you. Only an idiot wouldn’t care about how you make the world’s pace seem easier to keep up with it. Who wouldn’t kill to be around someone as soothing as you? Messy desks and all that.

Hair tied; neck exposed so casually. Who else made you laugh hard enough to reveal the sea hidden inside of you? Do you speak in melodies to someone else? He wonders how many considered taking that last step without you being aware. If another stupid, tempted alpha scented you accidentally and you didn’t notice.

Kento didn’t come back to work because he had to. It was lonely there. Away from the sea and its chaos. Kento missed you.

He wondered if you missed him too.

--

[disobedient]

It was announced as a good thing. A popular bar booked to celebrate that all teams were evaluated with the maximum score by the board representatives—which doesn’t change a damn penny on their wages. Booked on a Saturday night, with both supervisors and manager present, it was the sort of invitation no one could say no to.

Ironing a suit with his hair still damp, Kento almost missed his old job. At least he was never forced to attend useless office parties on his day off. Then he remembered he was ironing a tailored suit he bought on a whim and decided to ignore the last thought.

Kento wasn’t the first person to get there. He saw many known faces, almost heard their calculations of when it would be polite to announce the sudden need to go home. Hoping for a way to avoid drinking with their bosses, they waited.

He sat across Suguru, who arrived early to ensure a table big enough for them all. As discussed on the group chat, they were the only ones reliable enough not to be late. Ijichi found them a bit after, Haibara and Shoko joined right before the manager gave a bad speech. Satoru sat down by his second glass of wine; and you, by the third.

“It’s because I didn’t want to come”, you gestured for a waiter nearby. Kento chuckled. You waved at someone at another table, taking off your jacket and placing it on the chair beside him. “Changed my mind when I saw everyone was here.”

“I’ve told you. Everyone complains, everyone shows up. Even Nanamin’s here”, Satoru stared at the menu. Why do those bars have the urge to be poetic when naming their products? All he wanted was to drink something sweet. “Though now he doesn’t look half as bored as before you got here.”

Kento chocked on his wine. “Don’t call me that”, he coughed.

Finishing your order, you looked at Satoru again. When his blue eyes widen you usually decide to stop paying attention to what he’s saying. Now it’s been months since you’ve last been mad at him, all thanks to Shoko’s advice. From the look on everyone’s face, you missed something interesting.

Suguru leaned forward, one arm draped over Satoru's chair as he looked at the menu. Tapping twice on it, he whispered something into Satoru's ear. It earned him a chuckle as the omega made his order.

Fingers intertwined over the menu even though they have no reason to hold it anymore. Lavender eyes admiring the cocky grin so common to Satoru’s face, a hint of green tea in the air as Suguru subtly scented him. Kento did his best not to stare at how effortless it all was. Does it feel effortless for them?

A snap made him turn to you. “New suit”, you pointed out. Holding your beer, you bumped into his shoulder. “Grey is your color, but there is something charming about black.”

As the clinking echoed, you saw his lips tugging higher than usual. A smile. Soft and subtle but one, nonetheless. What a beautiful sight, you tried not to stare.

Parallel conversations had taken up this table, much different from the silence lingering around the rest of the mezzanine floor. A beer can conceal your own smile as you observed them, glad to watch from the sidelines for a moment.

Wondering about your smile, so was Kento.

--

In an act of mercy, it didn’t take longer for the supervisors to call it a night and drag the manager along with them. Most tables turned empty minutes after they left. Taking advantage of the mezzanine floor just for the seven of you, your table ordered another round.

And then one more.

Arms feeling longer than you remember them to be, you finished another can. Memories hazy, it could be your birthday for all you know. You had way past your fill of cheap beers—and hours away from the last drop of water to come near your mouth.

Laughing at something Haibara did, you saw a plate and a water bottle in front of you. Ignored by a waiter nearby, you sighed and stared at what you hadn’t asked for.

“It’s for you.” You faced Kento, blurry vision making it difficult to see past his brown eyes. He took the bottle from between your hands, opened it and poured water on a glass. “Your future hungover self needs this.”

Staring at the glass he offered, warmth spread from your chest to the rest of your body. You glanced at his eyes, then at his hands once more. A second later, the feeling faded away and left you cold beside him. His gentle tone and soft gaze were nothing but a result of your mind far away from sobriety

“Don’t worry”, you slid the plate towards him. You tasted something sour on your tongue. Something worse than the beer. “I’ll order something myself. If the waiter acknowledges me, that is.”

Kento pushed the plate back to you, hand still in the air.

You sighed. “Thank you”, you took the glass from him. A sip closer from a less awful hangover, you licked your lips and tasted the bittersweetness of beer and lipstick. “How much was it? I’ll transfer to you.”

Kento wasn’t in a much better situation than you. He was better at holding his liquor, but glass after glass took a bite from his filter between mind and action. Unable to hold back, Kento growled. Not loud enough to disturb others, only for it to reach you.

What a bad excuse, Kento held his half-empty wine glass. Alcohol never made him act like that. It never will. Kento thought his self-control to be strong because he never had a reason to doubt it. Never faced someone that challenged it without even trying.

(He wished you were trying. He imagined you discovering his walls and deciding you would be the one to bring them down. Kento wanted you to be toying with him. Looking for ways to break him. For every careless act to be you saying—look at me, do something, don’t I need you?)

The truth is Kento didn’t stand a chance once he didn’t go home because it felt wrong to not see you smiling. Kento is weak when it comes to you, no excuse needed. And if he doesn’t know how to be effortless about you, then so be it. Fuck subtlety. It’s not like Kento is used to not working hard for what he wants.

Taken aback, for a moment all you did was to look at him. You could feel his discomfort. His jaw never looked so sharp; fangs bared on an expression you didn’t know his immovable muscles could create. Stern, but in a way you never imagined Kento to be.

You almost apologized. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know”, Kento didn’t look away. His tone was gentle, his gaze was soft, and your mind was far away from sobriety. “I’ll join you. Eat it while it’s still warm.”

Your fingers closed around the fork before you decided to do it. Compelled to trust him, you obeyed. Swallowing the first bite, you realized how hungry you were.

It doesn’t surprise you anymore. When you’re late to acknowledge your needs. Late to acknowledge anything at all. Oh, the things that take too long for you to understand. They always hit when you least expect them to.

Half-drunk and half-starving, your mind wandered back to a vase of lilies and gardenias. Back to the fact they were replaced before withering by blooming tulips. Back to the knowledge you’ve never received flowers.

Not until Kento. And he wasn’t apologizing.

--

Nightly breeze soothed your muscles and lulled your mind. You held the car door open in an attempt of being helpful, although one could say the door was holding you in place. “Text me when you get home.”

You choked a laugh when Haibara hit his forehead on the car. Shoko was already dozing off. “Only if you send me a photo of your dog.”

Red blurs stained your vision as the car moved away. You leaned on the wall, and it vibrated against your back due to the now lively bar. Your gaze landed on Kento, a couple steps from you.

You frowned. “I don’t have a dog.”

The street wasn’t silent, but his laugh still echoed through it. Rosy cheeks, unruled blonde hair, unbuttoned suit. Kento was… looser now. Not tired, stressed or clearly wishing he wasn’t there. And to think it only took a few—not so few—bottles of wine to get him like that.

Hugging the jacket folded on your hands, you moved closer and tried to steal a look into his phone. The movement made you shiver, adrenaline starting to give space to the consequences of a night of indulgence. “Your driver is taking too long.”

“Now it’s three minutes away. And yours?”

“I live nearby. I’ll walk home in three minutes, if it’s your luck day and no one cancels your ride”, your back hit the cold wall as you breathed in and out. The look on his face distracted you from the upcoming headache. “It’s a good neighborhood. The worst thing that happened around here was a drummer moving in.”

He felt a worry wrinkle developing on his forehead. “You’re drunk”, Kento stated and ignored the need to roll his eyes at you saying only tipsy. “And you will walk home. Alone. At midnight.”

“Only tipsy”, you corrected him again. Tilting your head back, you closed your eyes. “It’s a four minutes’ walk. Six, if I see a dog.”

You opened them once a warm breath tickled your face.

His nose almost brushed against yours, hands flat on the wall. His rosy cheeks were at reach of your fingertips. A lock of hair fell in front of his eyes, you thought about fixing it for him.

“Nanami-kun?” Trapped between him and the wall, you hugged your jacket tighter. “Are you feeling alright?”

His right hand left the wall and closed around your wrist. It was a careful touch, one you reserve for porcelain. Kento brought your hand closer to his face, no strength on his hold. You could’ve pulled away. It would’ve been easy.

You shivered as Kento rubbed his nose against the scent glands on your inner wrist. He inhaled deeply, as if it was worth all his concentration. As if he didn’t notice the landscape lacked a piece. Or maybe he did and couldn’t care.

“You smell like a summer dream, omega.” His brown eyes stared at something beyond your eyes. You couldn’t look away. “It’s everywhere. It’s all I can feel.”

Eyes wide open, your lungs betrayed you. “W-what?” Your heartbeat pulsed on your ears. He is not talking like himself, acting like himself. “I think you drank too much. Your car is-”

“That we both did”, his husky tone made you swallow. Kento caressed your wrist, thumb moving slowly against your sensitive skin. “Good thing we are only tipsy.”

He let go of your arm, taking a step back. Kento grabbed the dark blue collar at the base of his neck, both hands dealing with the iron clasp. Another chance for you to move away. With a tug, Kento got rid of his moorings and wrapped the collar around his knuckles.

“How could I let you alone when you smell this good?” Kento was closer now. His hands rested on the wall, right beside your shoulders, the iron clasp of his collar brushing on your arm. You’ve realized how large he is. “You wouldn’t be safe.”

Kento leaned down. His nose right on top of your glands, at the very place your neck and shoulder meet. His breath reaches you colder now, making you pinch your arm and face the fact you’re awake.

“An omega this enchanting”, Kento breathed in. “Alone, smelling of sea and alcohol, in need of protection to get home safe.”

The glands on his neck were right in front of you. Even fangs weak as yours could’ve ripped it out. You’ve done it before. It hurt you, but it bruised those stupid enough to ignore your warnings.

You tilted your head higher, giving Kento all the space he needed to nose at your throat. To have his fill of the scent you assumed not to be there. One that for him wasn’t too little.

“Who would waste that opportunity to have you closer? To stain you with their scents so you don’t go around bringing attention upon yourself?”, Kento growled, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer. “I would hate for that to happen to you.”

In his arms, you finally noticed. His scent was all you could feel. It was thick, all around you. It tangled on your hair, deepened on your skin. Your clothes smelled like him. You smelled like Kento. Like Kento’s.

Breathing in, you tried to discover what it was. Pictures invaded your mind. Of a warm bath in the morning. Clean sheets on your bed after a long day. A meal made just in time. You searched for a flower, maybe a fruit that resembled him. Something you could recreate into a perfume to wear when he’s not around. Instead, all you got was a feeling.

Kento smelled like a loved home.

“It’s so delicate”, you whispered on his ear. Drunk on him, the last thing you did was think about your words. Not when his claimed all the space in your mind. Your lips brushed against the marks left by his collar, his hold on you tightened. “I need more of you.”

Kento glared at the moon, the witness to his ruination. You want more, he bit his lips so hard it turned scarlet. Kento almost gave in. Almost discovered how you tasted right then and there. You don’t think it’s too much. You don’t think I’m too much.

Kento took the jacket from your hands and placed it over your shoulders. “I’ll walk you home”, he reached out for you, palm open, hoped you couldn’t see that he was shaking. “If you let me.”

--

[morning proposition]

Blinding sunlight landed on your eyelids. It took long enough to understand you were awake and a bit longer to decide on leaving behind the warm haven of your bed. The room spins around and forced your body down on the mattress once more.

Salivating, you did your best to run towards the bathroom with your eyes closed. You tried to throw up, nothing came out of you although the nausea persisted in tormenting your body. Sat on the gelid floor, back shivering against the cabinet, you wondered if Nanami was feeling any better.

His eyes, his touch, his words. Nanami was all you could think of. He stole your peace of mind and left a hungry hollow in its place. One that could only be filled by him. You hoped he was doing better than you, at least less pathetic than throwing up with you on his mind.

Nanami is… You never meet someone so determined to do what needs to be done. His sharp-edged honesty never fails. Reliable in how you can always count on him to be a little bit tired, stressed and annoyed all the time. It makes it more meaningful when he smiles. Feels like you accomplished something special.

Last night, you allowed him to take you home. He held you closer than ever. His touch wasn’t odd, it wasn’t a silent walk—one filled with sudden regrets and anxiety for the premature death of whatever begun to flourish. Your jaw hurts from how much you laughed. He laughed, too, unashamed and unapologetic. It still echoes in your eardrums.

At your doorstep, playing with your hair, he refused to enter. You waited for him to kiss you, moved for Nanami to kiss you, but he didn’t. He stepped back, so you closed the front door.

Eyes burning, you couldn’t help but think you misunderstood last night. If you remember it wrong. Could a long night blend memories and imagination together? It never did before. Not after your worst nights were you unsure of what happened between the last drink and your bed.

Maybe then your interpretation of those memories isn’t correct. You don’t have much experience with this. Flirting. You dated the same person for so long. And you admit, understanding others is not what you’re best at. Maybe he meant what he said. Maybe Nanami was worried about safety and nothing more.

Which even you can’t believe to be the truth. That wasn’t worrying. Kento was about to devour you. His eyes made you feel like there was nothing else in the world beside you. He held your hand all the way home, thumb caressing your knuckles.

Which leaves you with one option: Nanami was playing with you.

He wouldn’t be the first to make you the butt of the joke. It wouldn’t be the first time he did that to you. Annoying Moments is what happened when you tried to be welcoming. You didn’t care about Nanami at the time for it to affect you, but aren’t you two friends now?

You should’ve know better. Eight years together and she laughed when you suggested bonding. The worst part was that she loved you. You could feel it. Her love was anything but subtle, a slashing feeling cutting meat and bone in search of your heart. Why would you expect him to behave as if you mattered?

Showering, you didn’t notice when tears began to roll down. Was it all a joke? Even what he said about your scent? It could be. You know awful people tend to be suddenly cruel. Maybe he went home bragging to his friends. Maybe he’ll only remember that you exist tomorrow at work when Nanami sees the omega that he could’ve fucked.

All others see when you smile is an idiot with good teeth. It wasn’t her intention but saying that only made it easier for you to break up and move on.

The empty fridge was your last straw. You undid the knot on the towel and used it to dry your dripping wet hair, decided to avoid this awful day completely. Wearing an old T-shirt and nothing more, you fall flat on your mattress. It’s still early but if you try hard enough maybe you can sleep until tomorrow morning.

Your doorbell rang the moment you started to relax.

Ignoring it was an easy call. If it’s any sort of emergency you can bend the truth a little and say you were sleeping. There was little that could happen to make this day worse, you won’t give the world a chance to show how creative it can be.

Then it rang again. And again, a couple seconds after. You waited in front of the door, fingers brushing against the handle. Groaning once the annoying high-pitched sound reached your ears, you unlocked it. And froze in place.

“Were you sleeping?” Nanami’s words didn’t make to your ears. You saw his lips moving, the sharp jaw tremble, but not a damn sound made to you. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

He was here. In front of you. At your doorstep. With a bouquet in hands and a couple paper bags on the other, Nanami smelled like home. That convinced you it wasn’t a dream made to bring torment upon you. Not even the best of them would recreate it so well.

“I thought you were allergic to clothes that aren’t suits”, you said, like an idiot.

In your defense, it was the first time you ever saw Nanami without one. A brown buttoned pant hugged his waist without his usual belt and suspenders. His linen blouse was ironed and well cared for but unbuttoned and revealing part of his broad chest, unlike his perfectly aligned blue shirt. The open coat made more evident his neck lacked scent blockers, the second time you ever saw him revealing his throat.

Compared to his own standards, Nanami was basically naked.

“I have an adrenaline pen on me”, his jaw relaxed. After stressing all night, Kento could only hope for you to say something he wasn’t expecting. “Hope I won’t need to use it.”

You took a step back, allowing him to enter your home. A new wave of scent hits as he passes by you, so strong it felt as if your nose wasn’t broken anymore. It makes sense now why he’s so careful about his blockers. Nanami mentioned taking suppressants, and if that’s him on them… you can’t even imagine what it would feel like for any other omega to be around him.

The inside of your house was more of less how Kento expected it to be. Chaotic and welcoming, nothing like his sterile and practical apartment. Trinkets and decorations of all kinds filled what used to be white walls. Jewelry forgotten on the couch, letters attached to the fridge, blooming flowers and others not quite so. Everything’s warm and colorful, everything smells like you.

He took the liberty of placing the paper bags on top of your table. Kento fixed his hair as you locked the door, only then noticing what you wore—or what you weren’t. Kento holds his breath.

“You’re here.” Across from him, you leaned on a chair and ignored most hospitality rules. “Will you tell me why?”

“I missed you”, Kento said. One step closer, he gave you the white bouquet. You didn’t miss his rosy ears. “Dearly.”

(You made a mental note and swore to never forget it, one that was quickly erased from your memory when you stopped paying attention: hungover turns you into a depressive mess—do not make assumptions or choices before a nap.)

Deep in forgettable thoughts, you didn’t realize to be still staring at him. Kento couldn’t read your expression. Crushed by the sheer pressure of your gaze, he grabbed the paper bags and took their contents. Kento hoped doing something with his hands would calm his failing heart.

Watching him, you nosed at the flowers. “And missing me dearly makes you decide to fill my cabinets?”

A few different types of bread. Three flavors of juice. Skim, low-fat and whole milk. He didn’t knew what you’d rather have for breakfast. The headache medicine was the only thing Kento got without overthinking about it first.

He chuckled, a moment closer to a heart attack. “It looks like it.”

Nanami Kento, an alpha too young to already be this tired, is sweet. He doesn’t whisper or soften the truth, doesn’t wear insincere smiles or walks away when there is work to be done. Nanami Kento groans, curses the world and often acts as a spiteful retiree. He’s as sweet as his awful coffee is a waste of water.

“Nanami-kun”, you purred. Kento stopped in place, eyes instinctively staring right back at you. Such a soft sound, one that filled him with the urge to calm down. “Thank you. Take off your coat, sit down. I’ll get a vase and some plates.”

Kento did as you said, chest growing calmer as he watched you danced around the kitchen. Vase filled with water, you came back to the table and focused on undoing the bouquet. Petals brushing against paper filled his tired mind.

Satisfied with how it looked, you smiled at yourself. “To think I assumed you were playing with me.”

It took Kento a second to understand your words. He blinked and you were away, opening the cabinets in search of clean plates and glasses—too worried about not having anything beautiful for guests to hear him moving closer.

“You thought I was what?”

“You know”, you shrugged. The tinkling of mugs made you groan when they almost escaped between your fingers. “Seeing how far I would’ve let you go just for the sake of it. I was feeling like shit two minutes ago.”

You keep on catching Kento off guard with it. There’s not a moment when your heart isn’t at the tip of your tongue. You say things easily, truth spilling out of you even when it shouldn’t. If he ever reached for it, fingers exploring your mouth with the kindness it deserves, could Kento trace the veins and arteries of your heart?

Turning around, the mugs almost fell again. This time not because you tried to get more than you could hold, but due to Nanami kneeling on your kitchen floor being an astonishing sight.

“I never did anything like that before”, he stared into your eyes. “I’m ashamed for not regretting a single word I’ve said.”

“Ashamed of being shameless”, your lips tugged higher. A subtle smile, almost invisible if not by the way your eyes softened. It reminded Kento of his own smiles. “Those flowers are the accompaniment of an empty apology?”

Kento raised his hands towards you, only now the fabric he held catching your attention. You would’ve noticed he took it from a paper bag if you weren’t so interested in his rosy ears.

“They come with my confession”, Kento started. “It’s been some time since you turned into the best part of my days. My mind is tangled between your every flaw, and even those are endearing to me. I want us to bond. Give me a chance to prove I’m more than a shameless alpha. Let me court you.”

Your smile faded away. Brows furrowed, you took the fabric from him and unfolded it. A white shirt ironed carefully and smelling like Nanami Kento. You squeezed it between your fingers. Warm and soft. Real.

For the first time in his life, Kento had you speechless.

“I want to bond for life”, Kento stated. Staring at the way you held his shirt away from your body, he rushed to silence any hesitation filling your mind. You deserve the same honesty you give him. “You don’t need to answer me now. You don’t need to say what I want to hear. Just think about it.”

You brought his courting gift closer, brushing your nose against the fabric. His scent took over your lungs. “Give me a week, Nanami-kun.”

“Kento”, he smiled. “Call me Kento.”

--

[breath it in]

Sometimes Kento knows he’s about to hear your voice. He knows you present weekly meetings, train new interns right beside him, eat lunch together with the rest of the team. Kento can prepare himself for those moments, shield his soul to endure the longest week of his life.

Sometimes Kento doesn’t. That’s when it hits hard, a cut straight to his aching heart. Haunted by your sweet melody, surprise makes his defenses lower in hope of hearing your answer. You never say what he wants to hear.

Kento keeps on listening, nonetheless. He feared you would’ve distanced from him to think clearly. To have you whispering for him to pay attention to what the other table is gossiping about is better than your silence. Kento rather live a week of torment than not hearing your laughter.

Friday came without an answer. You asked for a week, Kento can go two more days without one. It would’ve been easier to ask you to date him. Instead of days, it would’ve been a matter of seconds to know your answer. Kento doesn’t want to date you. He wants something way deeper than that. It’s only fair for you to take your time.

“He thinks it’ll take me three days to finish this project but, and you can time it, in three hours I’ll be done with it”, you smiled, baring your fangs. This sight gave him the strength to survive the weekend. “I should feel bad about it, don’t I?”

“It’s his fault for not knowing better about his own department”, Kento hissed.

“I thought you’d say that.” You shrugged, eyes landing at the files on your desk, index playing with the yellow scarf around your neck. “It’s best for me to get started.”

You’ve been using it lately. It can be chilly inside the office, yet you never wore a scarf there before. Kento worries that knowing your scent affects him as it does makes you uncomfortable. If you wish he hadn’t mentioned it. Kento didn’t ask about it, fearing you would see it as him trying to get an early answer from you.

Work done, shift over. Kento would’ve stayed for longer if you weren’t focused on getting done with this project for a new client. Overtime here pays well, they still can’t make up for the torment of being close but not close enough.

His steps were slow, mind too heavy for his body to work faster. Kento usually walk in a hurry—even when not in one. Always late for something, time seems to be what he lacks the most. Making his way to the subway, Kento stares at the darkening sky and wonders. Time lasts longer now.

Glass half-full, if his car wasn’t at the mechanic’s Kento would’ve been an irresponsible driver by constantly getting distracted with thoughts of you. A notification interrupted his music. Waiting for the train doors to open, his left-eye twitched.

From: Walking Mess

are you still in the building?

meant to talk to you but can’t find you anywhere.

…

well, i’ll head home then. see you next week, kento :)

As the doors opened, a crowd climbed up the stairs of the subway. No one, not even the first to walk off the train, was faster than Nanami Kento. Three steps at the time and soon Kento was running through the same streets he walked spiritlessly.

Briefcase crumpling his perfectly ironed suit, Kento grabbed the access card from it and slammed it against the sensor at the reception. An alpha approached asking if he needed help. Kento heard nothing. Passing through the turnstile, Kento pressed the button for all elevators on the ground floor.

Trying to catch his breath, he calculated how long it would take for him to climb up stairs to the right floor. Cursing the tall building, the annoying whistle of the elevator made him open his eyes. Running his fingers through his hair, Kento waited.

You crashed into his chest, your phone almost slipping through your fingers. “Sorry, I was distracted.” You took a step back, entering the elevator again, and blinked once you saw Kento. “I… was looking for you.”

“You wanted to talk”, Kento licked his lips, breath still too short. It has nothing to do with his little race. He entered the elevator, each of his steps forward making you take one back. “I’m here now.”

The doors closed. He pressed the emergency button. Looking into his eyes, you hoped to see the truth through them. “You want to court me”, you started. All you saw was Kento’s utter attention to whatever you have to say. Nothing new. “Because you want for us to bond.”

“Nothing would make me happier”, Kento bit the inside of his cheeks.

“Which means you want us to bond and will court me until I agree”, your voice grew bolder. “Did I understood it correctly?”

Kento could feel the blush reaching his chest. “Yes. You did”, Kento held his briefcase tighter. The way you worded it made his inwards melt. It felt so much more intimate to know you understand his intentions. “I’m patient. I can wait.”

You looked down, brushing your fingertips against the scarf around your neck, and handed Kento your phone. He held it for you, a question dying within his throat as you started to take the scarf off.

“I’m not good at being an omega. Truly, I’m so bad at it”, with a step forward, you placed it around his neck, covering the leather collar. “Patient, you said. Good. Then I can try again if it doesn’t smell like me.”

Staring at your hands carefully smoothing the fabric, you left Kento speechless. Sunday he confessed. Monday you appeared with this scarf. You weren’t deciding. All this time, you already knew your answer.

The wait was bitter, the fruit was sweet. So sweet.

“I appreciated your gift, I hope you can appreciate mine.” Kento saw your fangs when you smiled. “It matches your tie.”

Looking at you, still not moving, Kento smiled. Truly. It was wide, impossible to ignore or mistake it for anything else. It bared his fangs, lips tugging towards his rosy ears. You imagined that’s how you look when smiling.

“It’s perfect”, Kento said. With the scarf around his neck, all he could feel was you. “You’re perfect.”

Laughing, you grabbed his horrendous tie and pulled him closer. This time, waiting for him to kiss you was never an option. Pushing him against the mirror, you demanded for it. Kento attended to your wish instantly. He didn’t knew how not to.

It was slow, so slow, a mess of tongues and giggles as you explored him thoroughly. Not letting go of his tie, you took off his glasses. Kento sighed into your mouth.

Forced to face the truth, Kento admits that there is something way better than your scent. It is the taste of your laughter on his mouth.

--

[dive headfirst, treasured lover]

Lately, you’ve been learning a lot about Kento. There’s always a new detail to see as long as you pay attention. It’s what you do most as it turns out you can concentrate easily when Kento is the subject. It isn’t a task you need to get done with or movie that can’t hold your focus. It feels natural to learn about him. Right.

Kento doesn’t spend time with you—he doesn’t see it as investment. Kento doesn’t put in effort to meet you where you are—he doesn’t see you as work. For someone so constantly tired, Kento’s willingness to sacrifice his time and energy for you even when you don’t think he should is still a surprise. A good one.

You didn’t ate anything burned since he offered to cook for you. Kento insisted. Although you liked his food it still left a bitter taste to think he could’ve been doing anything else on the time he put on that. It took three days of chewing on lettuce to realize Kento knew cooking for you was easier than making you agree to eat salad.

Knowing Kento’s also learning about you tastes sweet as honey.

You never thought of him as someone patient because you used to think of it as sitting quietly in place. His patience reveals itself in ways you didn’t expect. Kento’s good at waiting. Kento’s better at waiting when crafting better routines for the two of you. Routines that reduce the amount of trash on your desk, lost jewelry inside furniture and working overtime.

All so you have more time to kiss him.

He’s patient with that, too. Breathy whispers itching your throat, firm hands locked around your hips. Kissing Kento is what you do best, keeping you close is his specialty. It doesn’t feel like kissing him, more like making up for lost time.

“You make it so difficult”, you whisper, lips moving against his. Sat on his lap, you kept on doing what you do best. “Not to tease you.”

Your nest already smells like him, his book lost and forgotten between soft pillows and comfy chiffon. His scented shirt is there, too, a treasured gift. Two weeks ago, he replaced a few burned bulbs hanging on top of your nest with blinker ones. Kento is part of your nest, your safe place smells like him. That’s a soft intimacy that hits harder than any gentle words.

Kento breathed in. “I’m not doing anything.”

And he wasn’t. His mouth doesn’t go lower, his fingers never travel higher. Close yet never close enough. You don’t know how you made that far without Kento pushing you away. He usually stops you the moment you start to get ideas.

Tilting your head, you cradle his jaw and strokes the soft skin. You move his chin up, index scratching a straight line to his throat. You feel Kento swallowing a lump. “You’re red”, you lay a kiss on each of his eyelids. “Burning red. Alarmingly red.”

Angling your hips forward, your chest moving up and down against Kento as you spread kisses all through his skin, his erection grows. You can feel it beneath your panties and his clothes, hardening more with every whisper and hungry touch—blessed be the bodycon dress you bought last week.

Lips bruised by his fangs ache as Kento doesn’t stop sucking on them. He bites and licks and sighs into your mouth, the only place he’s fully dedicated to touch. He’s trying so hard no to reach for the rest of your body his hands might leave marks on your waist. You can already feel them.

“That sounded like teasing”, Kento rest his forehead on your shoulder. It was meant to be a moment to breathe in, calm down his feverish body. Being closer to your scent glands didn’t help him at all. “Don’t be mean, love. Not when I’m nice to you.”

“You’re more than nice”, you purr. He can felt it vibrating through your body. It makes Kento want to discover where it comes from. What inside you were made to soothe him so well. “Always so good to me. Treating me so well, kissing like it’ll kill you not to. You’re cute, that’s why I don’t tease.”

Kento laughs against your shoulder and for a second he sounded like a mad man. You never saw Kento so eager to let you torment him. Then it hits you why he’s acting like that, eager to satisfy your every wish.

“Fuck”, you mumble. Using his tie as leash, you lower his head towards your throat. “Does it smell good, Ken? Better than usual?”

Kento licks your glands before nodding. He kisses it like it was your mouth, tongue and teeth all over your skin. His cock throbs beneath your damp panties. You can’t help but rubbing your cunt against it, a hand stroking his hair and the other attached to his forearm.

“I wasn’t paying attention but now, uhm, Ken, I think”, you whisper, not to tease but because it’s the best you can do without stuttering. “My heat is in a few days.”

His hands move. They rest on your tights, fingers making circles on your skin. Kento barely stops licking to answer you, and he does it with a few unintelligible murmurs.

“Take a week off”, you suggest. “Alpha, stay with me.”

Kento stops altogether. His mouth moves away from your sweaty skin, fingers releasing your tights. Fixing his posture, he looks into your eyes again. You can almost hear the thunderstorm inside his mind.

“It’s okay to say no”, you clean the sweat gathering on his forehead with your knuckles. “Don’t feel like you have to do anything. I mean, you already take care of me so well.”

Kento goes back to holding your hips. He hesitates for a moment. “I’m virgin.”

It takes you a second to process. “Oh”, you blink. Trying to get off his lap, Kento holds you in place. “Ken, I didn’t…”

“I want this”, he stops. There are no remains of hesitation inside his sweet, brown eyes. Kento breathes in. “I want you.”

Running your fingers through his hair, you smile. “I want you, too. And I’m patient, you know? There’s no need to rush.”

Kento takes your hand between his, eyelids closed as he treated your skin with small kisses. He leans on your palm. “Will you take care of me, omega?”

“Better than anyone ever could”, your whisper as if telling him a secret.

“Then take care of me”, Kento whisper, bringing you closer. “And I’ll do the same.”

You’re soft on him now, softer than you’ve ever been. There is no need to rush, no need to explore like a hungry animal searching for something to consume. All you want is to feel him closer. To have Kento relaxed again, easing those stiff limbs.

Unbottoning his shirt, you look at his exposed throat. What a beautiful alpha you have. One that deserves the very best. And you will give him all you have.

“Let me spoil you.” Sliding your fingers throught his torso, you rest your weight on his lap. It makes Kento sigh. “Tell me and I’ll stop, alright?”

Kento nods. You kiss his nose and reach for your bag, forgotten somewhere behind him. To think this started with you two reading together. You hand Kento your lipstick, throwing the bag away.

“Go on”, you smile. “You know what to do.”

Slowly, as if you’d get mad if he made a mistake, Kento reapplies the lipstick on you. Holding your chin to keep your face steady, his focus is one suited best for demanding tasks. Careful as always. “Done.”

You take your time to color Kento. His cheeks, shoulders, broad chest always hidden beneath suits. His white skin is covered by you, marks that will take long to get out. Kento strokes your hair, face almost the same tone as your lipstick.

Imagining yourself washing it away for him, you smile. “Beautiful.”

Kento pokes at your middle. “You’re teasing”, he says. He does that sometimes. Sounds like he’s in love with you.

You get up from his lap, kneeling between his legs to unbotton his pants. You press your thumb against the tip of his still covered cock. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

He’s bigger than you expected, bumping lightly on your face when you free him from the underpants. You don’t look at Kento. He isn’t the one needy for your attention, his leaking cock deserves it way more. Ignoring his piercing faze, you kiss the pink tip.

Your fingers trace a vein from the base with trimmed blond pubic hair until the lipstick mark. Heavy balls discover the warmth of your mouth first. You do it like that hear Kento sigh in surprise. Catlike licks get you back to the tip, you kiss it as if it was his mouth.

“F-fuck… Love, don’t be so”, Kento cries. It doesn’t change your pace. His voice dies when you take him into your mouth, inch by inch without rushing. Kento moan softly, your pride grows bigger.

Nose almost touching his trimmed hair, your hands go back to his balls. His cock throbs inside your mouth. You move your head up and down until your neck burns and then keep going despise it when his sweet sounds reach your ears once more. You drool all over Kento.

You stare into his eyes, too curious to see Kento to keep on ignoring him.

His cum hits your throat. It flows through your lips when you take him off your mouth, running down your chin and dropping on his skin.

“Shit, oh fuck”, he breathes. Kento tilts his head back, hands trembling as he brushes them on his face. “Love, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I couldn’t-”

“You’re sorry?”, you mock. Licking your lips, you sit on his lap. Grabbing and tossing away the pillows behind him, you push Kento to lay down. “For feeling good?”

His hands go back to your waist. “Sit on my face.”

“Shameless”, you lean on his chest and place your knees between his legs. Taking your panties off, you don’t look away. “You don’t need to.”

You hold the black fabric in front of his face. Kento does nothing, brain overwhelmed to understand quickly what you’re doing, then he gets it. With him sniffing it, you see his cock hardening once more.

“Do it”, is his answer. “Teach me how to pleasure you.”

“Kiss her. Make it wet and messy”, you say. Crawling towards him, you decided not to get off your dress. That’s for him. Knees around his head, you took his shaky hands and put them on your lap. “Hold me, tap it if you want to stop.”

Kento starts slowly. He kisses your thigh, looking into your eyes. He doesn’t look away. Not at the first small lick, not as his kisses made those embarrassingly loud wet sounds. He hummed against your core, slick going down his chin, and grabbed your thighs. He did it tighter after seeing your reaction.

It wasn’t perfect. Not on rhythm that would get you crying on top of him, not the right pressure in the right place. Kento doesn’t look away, and he doesn’t stop. He changes a bit every minute, searching for a reaction that shows him he’s doing you right.

Your hips move on their own, slowly riding his face as the pleasure doesn’t stop coming. Slick floods through your cunt. His hands moved, one grabbing your waist and the other making circles a bit higher from where his mouth explore.

“Right there, Ken”, you murmur against your fingers. “Don’t change a thing. Keep it like that and, uhmm, Ken, just keep it like this.”

He does exactly what you say, his humming vibrating on you. All you can do is curse. You look back, his hard cock looking so lonely behind you, and whisper his name. It makes it twitch.

You see the lipstick marks once more. Your heart feels heavier. It’s so strange. It makes you want to sob just to have Kento consoling you. Everything feels too much, except him. You’ll always want more of him. You’ll always need more of Kento.

You never thought of Kento as a patient alpha, you wonder if he ever saw you as a greedy omega. Because it’s still not enough. You don’t think it will ever be.

To get away from his tongue you had to fight his tight grip.

“Did I do something wrong?” Kento watches you. That’s the correct way to put it. He never looks at you, he always watches. “We can stop.”

Shaking your head, you don’t waste a second to get back to his lap. You touch his ignored cock, so sensitive Kento’s worry fades away. Yours. He’s yours. You want him. As close as he can get.

The sound coming from his mouth goes straight to your clit. Kento grabs your hips, making it more difficult for you to go slow. All you want is him deeper into you. Taking care of him, being nice, was never so hard. Still, you did it. Inch by inch, no hurry.

“How can you be so warm?” Kento almost cries. Pride grows bigger once more, little would be needed to make it explode inside of you. “Love, omega, you’re… Perfect. I need you. Fuck, I need you.”

A cold tear falls on his chest. Kento tries to focus, eyes doing their best to avoid his every wish. Once he can see your face, a heartache makes him hold his breath.

“Hey. Love, look at me.” Kento sits, bringing you closer to him. His thumb cleans every tear, mouth kissing where they reached. He puts your head on his shoulder, nose on top of his glands, and hugs you tightly. It stops you from moving. “Tell me what to do. Omega, tell your alpha what you need.”

“You smell like home”, you sniff. His scent fills your lungs. More. “Ken… Ken, I can’t think. It’s too much. Too much and I need more and I can’t think.”

He can smell it in the air. Now that he has something more important than your body on his mind, it’s obvious. Your heat was close enough for him to feel it, and now it was triggered. Kento kisses your shoulders, hands stroking your head.

His incorrigible slothful omega needs to be taken care of.

Carefully, still inside you, Kento puts you on your nest and places a soft pillow beneath your head. He kisses you again and again, scenting you more until your tears stop. He moves, and when it does you moan for more.

Kento gives you all he has. He slides inside of you, once slow but only fastening the more you ask for it. Kento doesn’t thrust hard. He doesn’t know if you want this, if it would hurt, if he would last. He can barely contain himself as you purr, pussy throbbing so much it makes him shake.

“Stop squirming”, Kento groans. You obey. “Stay still. Don’t move. I’ll take care… I’ll take care of you.”

You tilt your head back, crying his name so loud Kento will never forget the way it sounds perfect coming from your mouth. He licks your scent glands, fangs closing around it as he prepares to you make you his. Bond with you, have you in a way no one could ever compare. He’ll make you his. Kento will have you for himself only.

When you look at Kento again, you see a red blur. Eyes focusing, they widen. His lips are raw, fangs cutting meat as he keeps his face right on top of yours. He doesn’t stop fucking you. He doesn’t stop giving you more even as blood drips warm on your cheeks.

I want more, you thought. I think I love him.

“You can do it”, you show him your throat. “Bond with me, Ken.”

“No”, he whispers. You don’t think he can do much more than that. “Not now. You’re not thinking straight.”

“Alpha”, you moan. “Make me yours. Please.”

It’s sharp and cold.

You shake violently—the strongest orgasm you ever had. So good it’s painful, so good it makes you cry and thinking nothing but his name, his touch, his scent. Muscles tight, no air comes to your lungs. You won’t made it out alive.

Pain and pleasure fill your mind. Everything makes sense. Everything feels right in place. Every heartbreak led you to him. Every step on the way brought you closer to Kento. Your body accepts the bond, his love for you consuming you wholly.

You cry. It hurts and burns, blood on your cheeks and neck. Coming again, his name is all you can say. He laps at the blood and the pleasure doesn’t stop. It grows bigger, now not taking but giving. You stop moving.

His vision goes white, and so does your womb. Knot keeping you nice and still, a mess of cries and moans enchanting him. Kento looks at the bond mark, at your eyes full of satisfaction, and a feeling so good he can’t even name takes over him.

Kento laughs. You do it, too, he tastes it in his mouth.

Now, he knows he was right. All those years ago, arguing with his dad and pretending to agree because he had no other choice. Kento was right. “I love you”, Kento whispers against your lips. Words can’t lose meaning, so he says it again.

There is no better taste than his love on your mouth.

I REALLY REALLY REALLY SHOULD'VE BEEN DOING MY ARCHON QUEST. SORRY RAIDEN I'M BACK TO YOU NOW.

+ i'll grant a wish for anyone who recognizes who was the inspiration for nanami's "basically naked" outfit.

tagging ; @aviesnapkindoodles @starry-eyed--dreamer @brooke-gvf @missthatgirl @romantisized @catcactusoww @toadtoru @stxxrzz @motthe

all rights reserved to © madwomansapologist

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Age gap!Bruce is so in love with his wife, I’m sure that he believes she can’t do nothing wrog. Like, he’s the type to brag about how amazing she’s to everybody.

I love your writing and this scenario in particular has me very interested bc I think is so original. Usually, I don’t like age gap bc writers tend to make reader a little childlike or with no personality, but age gap!reader is so unique that I love her so much.

I like to imagine one of Bruce’s exes, like Selina (I’m sorry, but I always remember how she left him at the altar. I love her but my heart breaks for Bruce) comes back to Gotham and everything is kinda awkward bc yes, they have this weird off and on relationship (they haven’t seen each other for more than a year), not string attached but serious at the same time. And suddenly, he’s married to a fucking pop-star and actress??

Even a one night stand seeing Bruce “the playboy” marrying reader.

I can see this with anyone who used to be in love or having feelings either for Bruce or reader. “That should be me” by Justin Bieber will be in their spotify wrapped

I think it was the hard launch of the YEAR. Everyone will be so shocked by it that it becomes an iconic and part of Gotham’s pop culture. They did an interview and suddenly, the next thing they knew?? They got married at a private ceremony where only close family and friends knew.

"This is a stunt even for you, Bruce," Lois scolded tapping her foot. "Honestly-"

Bruce held his hands up, "The only reason it's public now is because we got caught in public. She was perfectly happy to be a private thing."

"Bruce," she scoffed giving him a look, "I know she's an adult but still. You're old enough to be her dad-"

"Not unless I was 16 when she was born," Bruce snorted, "she's the same age Dick is. Damian is 9-"

Lois rolled her eyes and took a seat, "So what did your kids say?"

"Over all, they were fine with it. If not happy about it. But Jason had to make a scene about me dating his childhood crush and betraying him all over again for dramatic effect. And Damian had to lecture me about the security risk."

"Naturally," Lois said smiling. "Jon said Damian had a lot to say about it. That's how we heard about it."

This time it was Bruce's turn to roll his eyes. "Be nice to her-"

"Are you kidding?" Lois asked, slightly incredulous.

"No-"

"Why would I not be? She's Iconic, honestly."

"And better at managing her image than I am," Bruce chuckled.

"Sad, really," Lois observed dryly. "But also impressive."

"No one knows who she dates, where she donates, no one knows her net worth for sure... honestly if she didn't volunteer the information I'm not even sure I'd know her favorite color."

"I'm not surprised," Lois mused, "After watching her get ripped apart a few years ago."

"I don't-"

"You wouldn't," Loid allowed, "You didn't have editors that wanted you to write think pieces about it. And you didn't work in an office that had a betting pool to her inevitable suicide or addiction spiral."

Bruce winced. He didn't remember it. Not directly, but you'd talked about it. It was part of why he agreed to letting you keep things private. You liked keeping things quiet. A separation between your public face and your private one. It fucked you up. And no one protected you. You'd had to handle it alone- Sure, you had your team but that wasn't the same as having PEOPLE to fall back on.

"I'll be nice," Lois assured him, "Just don't be a creep or I'll sic Clark on you later."

[iamthedamndonutdrawcat]

Berlin maradures au????

now listen! berlin hipster modern marauders band au. (i'm sorry this is brutally self-indulgent and may be incomprehensible to anyone outside berlin but i need to put it somewhere) this is a long post, so i put it under the cut. please excuse the word vomit :)

they all go to a grammar school that's a bit too shitty to call itself elite but does anyway. many children of bureaucrats, diplomats etc. that think they're ghetto f.e. James, Sirius and Remus. (Peter is the only normal one tyvm)

the marauders met as classmates in year 5. Remus and Sirius are forced into the school choir. all marauders learn acoustic tradtional instruments but their "band" is actually a soundcloud rap project. James and Peter build BAD beats and Sirius fixes them. they all do enjoy indie/rock and sometimes have jam sessions and do covers. artistic duo Remus & Sirius. intense homoerotic friendship James & Sirius. wolfstar endgame. Sirius curates a spotify account with only extremely niche melancholic rap to impress Remus; actually knows german trash rap by heart. serenades Remus with Ski Aggu "love" songs during Remus' depressive phases.

Sirius and James are third generation immigrants; Sirius turkish on his mother's side, James indian. Sirius family is not necessarily evil, just conservative diplomats with a big pride in tradition & well behaviour; far removed from their own cultural & religious roots in order to integrate into german political structures. however they are homophobic/unaccepting towards Sirius. Sirius grows up in a very german environment, gets misjudged by racist teachers. extremely smart yet often lazy. at school they're permitted to use ipads and chatgpt does his entire course work; he spends his time gaming during class. vape enthusiast although he gets horrible coughing attacks.

Remus's background is very international, somewhat french on Lyall's side and arab roots on mom's side, they met in england and moved to berlin with child Remus. Rip Remus' mom. Remus & Lyall live in a nice old apartment (Altbauwohnung) in berlins Pankow district (lots of families, settled down hipsters, sligh shift into suburban terrain), Lyall is either a lawyer or diplomat, 50/50 works or spends time with his girlfriend. crunchy distant father-son-relationship. but because no ones ever home, Remus constantly has friends (and Sirius) over. Remus has BPD, is in therapy and doing pretty well in his later adolesence. Remus spends lots of time outside, drinking in parks, chilling at friends', or smokes too much weed in his room. unapologetic chain smoker, even in front of Lyall. quiet and shy, makes him seem either rude or mysterious. bookworm & music nerd. nokia + ipod combo instead of smartphone because he doesn't want screen addiction or be too reachable. vape hater, point of argument with sirius.

accidental wolfstar public outing after Sirius drunkenly performs an Ikkimel song at a party and then throws himself at Remus (they don't really gaf anymore). For Halloween they dress up as a Cigarette and a Beer (Sternburger Export).

James watches german meme compilations every night and knows them by heart. Footie enthusiast with Sirius, drags the marauders to big games where they almost get trampled. extreme alman energy (aka white german energy, upstuck, snobbish and happily embarassing, taking part in typical german shenanigans) just like Sirius, except Sirius tries to hide it and James can deal with the jokes at his expense. James was a tv addict as a child. James & Sirius friendship began over a shared interest in anime.

Peter is the token german kid. Fridays for future gave him a bad conscience and all the marauders joined him in the demonstrations to get out of class. Extreme stoner, at least bi-weekly sessions with Remus. also i like the art kid peter hc so i'm stealing it. art kid peter who draws cartoons of his friends.

Lily & Severus live in the inner city Wedding district, rougher than the outer parts where Sirius & James live. Lily & Remus bff duo. (ik this is very boy centric, i have yet to dig deeper into my headcanons for the girls)

.

i have a lot of music associations, but they actually are nice songs so idc here they are...

songs to illustrate the vibes: Nachts wach by makko, Rasenschach by Filow, FUSSBALLMÄNNER by Ikkimel, Wenn du tanzt by Von Wegen Lisbeth

Remus coded songs: Marlboro Mann by Romano, Goldener Reiter by Joachim Witt, Ziemlich Verplant by Skinny Dazed (!!!), Alt sein by Pisse

Sirius coded songs: BIKINI GRELL by Ikkimel, Immer nur da by Fynn Kliemann, Klebstoff by Mine (extreme black brother angst vibes), Findelkind by Mine (i could make a whole seperate post on how wolfstar-coded Mine's & Fynn Kliemann's discographies are)

James coded songs: Haus am See by Peter Fox, Verschwende deine Zeit by Edwin Rosen (prongsfoot vibes imo)

Peter coded songs: Alles Gute by Faber, Bongzimmer by SXTN

[gremlin-girly]

🚀 Space Cakes 🚀

Banner by me, made in Canva w/ Jake's and the brownie's pics sourced on Pinterest. The specific brownie is a called cosmic brownie and I highly recommend you try them (fudgy brownies with m&ms/smarties!!)

Jake Jensen x curvy!f!reader

WARNING: This fic not only contains smut but also consumption/use of marujuana. If that's not your bread and butter (or if you are a minor) please do not read. Not beta'd and I don't give permission for my work to be reposted, translated, copied or put through AI!

Additional Warnings/tags: Jake being high, Jake being a dork, Jake being adorable, friends to lovers bc I can't help myself, breast/nipple play, oral (f recieving), vaginal fingering, clit play/teasing, squirting, p-in-v (wrap it!!), creampie, sofa sex again (woo!), overstimulation, crying from overstimulation, (accidental) pleasure!dom!Jake, pussy drunk Jake (when is he not though?), needy Jake, multiple orgasm (RIP your sofa), dub-con kinda, petnames (baby, sweetheart), lil bit of possessiveness teehee

Summary: After eating two brownies, Jake goes on a trip with you by his side.

Word count: 4.8k

Dividers by: @/thecutestgrotto Banners by: @/saradika-graphics

A/N: The image on the left is that of a cosmic brownie (and you can find the recipe for said picture here) since space cakes tend to be any cake variety. This was the first fic I wrote for the collection, but Ari one the poll. ENJOY 😈Forget-me-not Blues will be out tomorrow xxx

Also, not an ad, but if you guys wanna smell like cinnamon rolls - Mallows beauty cinnamon swirl body oil. It's sparkly and smells divine... and was the inspiration for this ;)

Green Collection | Jake Jensen Masterlist | Navigation

Three day weekends were your favourite thing in the world. You'd wake up late, make yourself your favourite breakfast before beginning your self care ritual.

Occasionally, it starts with baking a batching of extra special brownies; if there's none left in your freezer. Boring box mix elevated with a shot of coffee, eggs and extra chocolate chips. Not forgetting your melted cannabutter to make them special.

Once the brownies are out of the oven and marked into twelve equal squares, you can go about enjoying the rest of your day, starting with your weed-kend ritual.

The ritual begins with you washing your face with warm water before picking out a face mask whilst your brownies bake. Today, you choose a bentonite clay mask that smells like a strawberry milkshake, setting a timer to wash it off and take your brownies from the oven.

Then you go upstairs to shower. You give yourself the works; washing and conditioning your hair with a hair mask, shaving your legs and underarms. You're singing along to more of your favourite songs as you wait for the timer for your hair, thinking of how to plan the rest of your day. You'd get out the shower, moisturise, maybe paint your nails and set up a movie before eating a brownie and ordering a big, fat take out when the munchies kicked in.

Oh these long weekends were good.

If only you had someone to share them with.

When you exit the steamy shower you notice a text on your phone from your friend Jake

Jensen 12:06

Hey! Hope your weekend is going well so far 🤠 Could I stop by later and drop off the games you lent me? They were a hit with the guys 🤠😎

You smile down at your phone. Seeing friends on your long weekends wasn't uncommon but today you'd wanted very limited social interaction and with Jake around it was unlikely to happen.

However, this was also Jake. Your favourite person in the world who loved using cowboy emojis and making you laugh. So long as he stopped by before you planned to scoff a brownie you'd be okay. Maybe you'd even offer him one.

You 12:08

Sure. Stop by before 5pm and I'll be here. ☺️

Jensen 12:08

:-)

You snort at his response and open your Spotify to your favourite mix of songs and pick up your new body oil from your bedside table. Cinnamon Swirl body oil smelled as good as it sounded and now you did too.

Once oiled and smelling divine you reach for your fluffy pyjama shorts and tank, feeling like the human equivalent to a pastry; fluffy, warm and smelling oh-so delicious, you headed downstairs to watch a movie while you waited patiently for Jake to arrive.

Jake arrives around three in the afternoon.

You're greeted by his smiling face when you open the door.

"Hey you," You grin, stepping aside to let him in.

"Hey." He bundles inside, almost tripping as he's distracted by your ass in your pyjama shorts as you close the door behind him.

You hold out your arms for the board games. "Gimme those, I'll go put 'em upstairs."

"You sure?" He asks as he places them into your arms, suppressing a shiver when your hands brush his. You peek up over the boxes at him. Even in your PJs you looked so damn adorable.

"Sure I'm sure. You know where the kitchen is, get yourself a soda or something." You wink, heading up the stairs with the boxes. "I'll be two minutes!"

Jake wanders into your small kitchen like he'd done so many times before, thinking about how he should broach the topic of asking you on a date. You were good together; he liked spending time with you, you liked spending time with him. Any little excuse he could use to see you he'd take it and anything to see that sweet smile of yours he'd gladly do.

The scent of brownies pulled him away from his thoughts of you and leaning past the fridge door he spotted the chocolatey goodness that seemed angelically highlighted before him. Your baking was top notch and the last brownies he'd had hadn't lasted two days in his home. He closed the fridge and picked up one; chomping it in two bites.

The face Jake pulled at the flavour was a cross between a grimace and utter disgust. It was thick and strong; all the excellent elements of a good brownie but tainted with a sickening taste that made him want to throw up.

So he ate a second in case it was just one bad brownie.

The result was exactly the same, unsurprising to everyone but his lovely self, but whilst he was contemplating how brownies could be this bad you reappeared from your board-game-putting-away duties.

"Jake," you begin eyes widening as you look at the brownie tray. "How many did you eat?"

"Oh... heh... well-"

"How many?" You urge growing more panicked.

"Like two. I think." He shrugs sheepishly. "Sorry, you know I love your baking."

"Ohmygod." You groan, covering your face with your hands. So much for a quiet weekend.

"I'm sorry Y/N. Were they special or something? I can help you make more." You peek at Jake through your fingers and he looks wrecked thinking he's upset you and you bite back a grin.

"Oh, they were special alright." You say, hiding your smile with a hand. "They were space cakes."

Jake blinks at you in confusion and you roll your eyes playfully.

"They're weed brownies, Jake."

His mouth hangs open, he points to the brownies, to you and then himself in a dramatic miming of "Them? For you? I ate them?"

"Um... okay." Jake sighs, hands on his hips. "I didn't want to tell you they tasted gross so I'm glad there's a reason."

"Why did you eat two then?" You snort and Jake smiles.

"I thought the second one would taste nicer."

You shake your head at him with a grin; your worry slowly fading. Jake would probably feel funny but ultimately fall asleep and you tell him as much.

"I've got plenty of snacks too, but maybe we can order a pizza when you get the munchies."

Jake nods, exhaling loudly. "Hooo boy. Okay. This is fine."

"Hey," you pat his bicep reassuringly and give him a smile. "I'll be with you the entire time. I'll stay sober and watch over you."

Jakes nervous smile falters as he takes a deep breath, admiring the features of your face. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Thanks."

An hour later, Jake's brain was a smushed mess.

You'd insisted he lie on the sofa which started off as him lying one end and you on the other but over the course of the hour, he’d entirely encroached on your personal space. He’d ended up with his arms wrapped around you as he lay on top of you, anchoring himself to you and you'd allowed it because, well, you wanted him to be as calm and comfortable as possible since he was in for a wild ride tonight.

And because was the most perfect weighted blanket in the history of ever.

You'd put on some random comedy although, honestly, you weren't paying much attention. Your legs were tangled beneath Jake's with one hand resting against his back, the other absently raking through his blond spikes. This was a different kind of high altogether.

Survive the night, you tell yourself, admiring the man snuggled on top of you. Then figure out next steps.

Giggles erupted out of Jake suddenly, startling you from your thoughts.

"What are you laughing at?" You chuckle, running a hand through his hair absently. Jake's giggles only come harder, his whole body shaking as he snorts against you. Jake pants trying to catch his breath but starts laughing again as soon as he opens his mouth to speak.

You're grinning down at him now, his laughter is infectious and you're trying so hard to hold back your own laugh to figure out what set him off. However, when he buries his face into your chest to suppress a howl of laughter it immediately sets you off.

Your body begins to shake as you start laughing along with him. "What?"

His laughter dies down and he heaves heavy breaths as he looks up at you, red faced and grinning goofily with tear streaks running down his face.

"I don't know." He whispers, stifling another giggle. "That guy in the movie fell over and it - it -" He buries his face again to stop himself from laughing, only small giggles slipping through.

You chuckle a little and go back to stroking his hair. Jake sighs heavily as your fingers delicately massage the crown of his head. His face is half turned to watch the TV with puffy eyes and he's moulded his body to yours, his cheek squished against your boobs.

"Your boobs are comfy." He comments nonchalantly.

"Thank you." You grin, allowing your heart one little skip of excitement before turning back to the movie. After a few moments, Jake speaks again.

"Why haven't we done this before?"

"Done what? Get high together?"

"No," he huffs softly. "Cuddle."

"Well, I guess we've never really - um - talked about it."

"We can talk about it now."

Your lips twitch upwards. "You won't remember."

"Will too."

"Jake." You warn.

"Y/N." He sasses back. "You're comfy. I'm comfy. Your boobs are soooo comfy." He nuzzles against them, face first. His nose brushes along the edge of your tank, nudging the swell of your breast.

Your skin explodes into gooseflesh and your try to focus yourself, chanting that's he's not in his right mind over and over in your head. You genuinely think it won't go further; you know what it's like to admire soft things when you're high, which is why you were in fuzzy pyjamas to begin with. But when you feel his lips press a kiss against your skin you squeak.

"Jake!"

"Huh?" He looks up at you slowly, his brain in a daze. You're blushing furiously and you can feel warmth grow where it definitely shouldn't be right now. "What? You smell so good too."

When you don't argue with him he sinks further down your body, trailing tender kisses down your chest to the small exposure of skin between your pyjama top and the waistband of your fuzzy pyjama shorts that hug your hips.

"Cinnamony and warm and soft." He murmurs between kisses "Like a cinnamon roll."

He nuzzles against your skin, his goatee tickling you and making you squeal with laughter. Jake's hands run down your sides to hold your hips, keeping you in place. You can feel the cool metal of his glasses against your skin, and how he's smiling as he peppers more kisses along your stomach, on every inch of skin he can find.

"Jake." You sigh his name as your head falls back against the arm of the sofa. You can't tell if you want him to stop or continue, each kiss making your skin tingle and your stomach swoop.

You shriek in surprise when his hot tongue glides up to your sternum, pushing your shirt up with him.

Jake smacks his lips with confused delight. "You taste like one too."

Giggling, you cup his cheeks in your palms, guiding his face to look at you. He melts into your palms, letting his cheeks push up so he can give you a dopey chipmunk expression that earns him another laugh. Behind his glasses his blue eyes are red-rimmed and glisten with adoration when they meet yours. Your heart beats frantically as you try to smile sweetly at him.

"Fuck it." You huff. "C'mere."

You cup his face and bring it closer to yours, smashing your lips against his hungrily. To your surprise, Jake doesn't seem shocked, immediately melting into the kiss as if it were second nature; like you'd be doing this for a lot longer than thirty seconds. His goatee tickles at your skin but you're too lost in his taste, the scent of his funky aftershave fills your nostrils but on your tongue he tastes like chocolate and weed. It's a strange combination of flavours but you think it just might be your new favourite.

Jake's hands wander up and down your sides as he shifts on top of you, eagerly kissing you back. Tonight was going better than planned. The cotton-wool-brain that edibles gave you was nothing compared to the high Jake was giving you. You shift your legs against his, the rough of his jeans against your soft oiled legs a delicious contrast, especially when you can feel how hard, and big, his cock is as he lies on top of you.

"Ah fuck, I always imagined you'd taste sweet." Jake murmurs against your lips, pushing his body into yours.

"Really?" You giggle back, biting your lips to hold back a smug grin.

Jake nods enthusiastically, dislodging his glasses so they hang haphazardly off his face. You fix them for him as he continues to talk, smoothing your hands across his face.

"And if I'm right about that," He mumbles against your lips. "Then I bet I'm right about you having the sweetest pussy on the planet too."

"Christ," you sigh, feeling your clit throb at his confession. Jake lifts his head slightly, his expression is sheepish but his skin is fire engine red with embarrassment.

"Aw, shit. Sorry. That was supposed to stay inside my head."

"That's alright." You peck his lips again and wiggle your hips to get comfortable beneath him, his cock nestled against your thighs and stomach. "Keep going."

Jake let's out a breathy sigh as you shift. "I can?"

You nod and he breaks into a grin, fixing his position, cementing you against his body as he moves to kiss you again; hands freely wandering and groping all flesh it can find. His hands inch higher and higher until he's finally able to graze a pebbled nipple under your top. You jump at the sensation with a short gasp hearing a murmured "Sorry" from Jake as he does it again before cupping your tit entirely and giving it a squeeze.

Jake's hand continues to squeeze and massage your tits before he drags his thumbs across your nipples as he kisses you, repeating the motion over and over when you moan into the kiss, watching your eyes flutter against your flushed rosy cheeks.

When you stifle a moan, he tweaks it instead, watching your face contort with pleasure. He continues for a while, teasing your nipples and cupping the soft flesh until he pinches a little too hard.

"Ow," you hiss when he pinches too hard, grimacing slightly. It half snaps you out of your growing stupor.

"'M sorry, baby." Jake coos. "Here, let me kiss it better."

Before you can stop him, his head is under your top kissing and sucking at your abused nipple, his other hand capturing your unattended tit and squeezing it like he had for your left. One of your hands threads into his hair, the other grips his shoulder as he swirls your nipple with his tongue. Lustful brain fog starts to creep in as you shift under him again, arching your back slightly as he continues to shower your tits with attention.

"What? Your boobs are so perfect. Just had to kiss 'em." He pecks at your left nipple before going to your right. "I've always wanted to suck 'em too."

"Jake." You pant, squeaking as he tweaks your right nipple now, grazing his thumb over the hard nub. He releases your left breast with a wet pop and when he raises his head to look at you, you can see his shiny spit all over your skin. The cool air of the room doesn't help the hardness of your nipples nor does Jake's continuous squeezing.

You let out a long sigh trying to compose yourself but the need for him is becoming too overwhelming to ignore. After the way he's made your panties a mess just by sucking your tits, you don't think you could refuse him anything else; especially with how with tongue had swirled around your nipple...

He mumbles something into your tits that you can't make out and you look down at him.

"Hmm?"

"Eat. You. Out." He breathes, peeking up at you, his glasses fogged with condensation. "Please? I just wanna taste."

"Christ, Jensen." You hiss but his eyes don't leave yours. "You're high as a kite this can't be a good idea."

"If you think I'll regret it in the morning, just ask me to do it again." He pleads with a pouting expression. "Hell, I'd let you sit on my face all day if you asked me."

You stare at him wide eyed. Your chest constricts and you can feel said pussy squeezes around nothing.

"Really?"

"Really really." He looks up at you dreamily. "I love thinking about how hot you'd look cumming over my face."

Your chest thuds and you swallow thickly, trying to remind yourself not to think with your clit right now. However, as always, Jake has to open his big mouth again. "Oh. Oops." Jake says blinking slowly. "That was another inside thought I think." When Jake gives you another one of those cute, goofy smiles your resolve crumbles. Your poor pussy is aching for his cock and you are in no position to be turning it down. Plus he did say please.

You sigh and nod. "O-okay. Sure."

Jake's demeanour suddenly shifts up a gear, far more excited than you'd ever seen him and it makes heat rise up your neck.

"You're sure?" He asks, squeezing at your hips.

"You said I could ask you to do it again," You tease back quietly, your cheeks burning so hot you could most definitely fry eggs on them. "I think I may take you up on it if you're good."

Jake's nostrils flare and his eyes blow into saucers. "I did. I meant it. I swear to God 'm gonna make you feel so good baby."

Jake wastes no time in tugging your pyjama shorts down to your ankles along with your damp panties. As he moves your legs out wider, on impulse you keep them closed causing Jake to pout at you. You can feel the cool air kissing at your thighs and your clit tingles when you think about how not only will Jake see your leaking cunt but taste it too.

"I can't eat when your legs are closed." Jake whines, pushing at your knees gently. "Open up."

His eyes are pleading but he's still being so sweet that you concede with a small smile. As your legs fall open before him, you catch the hungry look he's giving your pussy and the way he licks his lips. He's practically drooling at the sight, sending shockwaves of pleasure to all of the right places. "You okay?" You ask when he's not moved.

His eyes flicker to yours. "Yeah. You just -..." He trails and shrugs off a small laugh. "You've got the prettiest pussy I've ever seen."

Heat surges and you fight back a slew of curses at the compliment.

"Right now it's all yours."

"I... Yeah, I know." He sounds so bewildered, even when he drags an index finger through your warm folds up towards your clit. You gasp at the suddenness, but it quickly devolves into panting when he begins to circle your clit with his thumb. your body jerks at his touch but takes seconds for you to unravel. Clearly, him making out with you and playing with your tits had you wound up so much you were ready to cum already.

Jake shuffles down, kissing each of your thighs before swiping his tongue the same way his finger had. His strong arms loop under your thighs and hold them open as he laps at your cunt like there's no tomorrow.

"Oh fuck yes." He rumbles against your clit. "So sweet for me."

He latches onto your clit before you can respond, suckling gently at first before rolling your sensitive pearl on his tongue. He only ever breaks to drag breathy stripes up your slit before burying himself back at your clit. You cum so quickly you don't even know it's happening until your hips jerk upwards into his mouth and you shout his name, not that it deters Jake in the slightest, who continues to sweetly kiss and lick your dripping hole and clit like they're the best dessert he could have asked for. His arms push you thighs apart further so he can make out with your pussy at a far better angle.

You're back on edge moments later, gripping his short blond hair like a lifeline when you cum again, his arms stopping you from wriggling away from him when the pleasure becomes too overwhelming for you to handle. You can half hear your own voice moaning his name mixed with curses as your back arches off the sofa and you almost cum a third time when you feel a finger slip inside you, curling against that spongy spot.

Sweat makes your hair stick to your skin and you can't focus as Jake keeps you on that edge longer this time. Time has bled away and you've completely surrendered yourself to this position; the pleasure almost too much with your clit throbbing angrily, begging for another release.

"Jake pleeease." You whine desperately, your need for orgasm orgasm growing as he sucks and slurps at your clit noisily.

"I know, I know." He mumbles, licking through your folds. "I'm being greedy. I want another one."

Your eyes roll so far back you're sure you see the puddle your brain has become. He slips another finger into your cunt, not only curling both fingers but pumping them vigorously, forcing you to cum hard over his face and fingers with a keen of his name.

Without removing his fingers, relishing in how your pussy convulses around his fingers, he sits back to admire his handiwork. You're a hot mess. Your cunt is shiny with cum and spit but Jake's eyes are wide with a drunken hunger, licking his lips as his thumb brushes over your swollen clit. You moan loudly and your pussy twitches and trembles at his touch, just like how his cock does at the sight and sound of you.

No words are needed as Jake undoes his belt with one hand, easily working the fly of his jeans down too. The touch of your hand on his hard cock makes him hiss as you help him guide it to your drenched cunt. You both suck in a breath at the same time as the head of his cock breaches your tight hole and Jake stops.

"Fuck...." He whispers, looming over your body. "Jesus Christ I might cum already. You feel amazing." When he bottoms out fully, he looks down to your connected bodies, his cock twitching against your velvet walls and you struggle to keep your moans to yourself.

"Look at that baby," he coos. "You're a perfect fit."

Your eyes flutter, hands blindly reaching for his shoulders to pull him back to you. Your eyes meet his and you're done for, fingers curling into the hair on the nape of his neck as you drag him down to meet your lips in a hungry kiss. He swallows every sound you offer him, beginning to move his hips against yours in a steady motion. His tongue tastes like your cum and a hint of chocolate and it drives you feral, hooking a leg over his hips to allow him deeper into your aching pussy. You know it won't take long to cum again and tell him as much.

"Keep making all those pretty noises." He urges, trailing kisses along your neck. "Be nice and loud for me."

You keen his name helplessly, eyes half lidded in ecstastatic pleasure, clawing at his back and squeezing his hips with your legs.

"Hey now," Jake trails kisses against your neck and you can feel the curve of his smile against your skin. "No fair. I can feel your pussy milking me and trying to make me cum."

"Mmhmm, made for your cock." You whimper pathetically, thoughts running wild with lust, hands clawing blindly at his back under his cartoon tee. "Just please please please cum."

"Made for me, huh?" Jake sighs wistfully, filling you to the brim slowly enjoying the way your ruined cunt still spasms and welcomes him in. "Damn fuckin' straight you are."

Your pussy convulses at his cursing, so unused to hearing filthy, possessive praise tumble from his lips. You're used to his terrible flirting, to his cheesy pick up lines and his general dorkiness that made your heart flutter. His awkwardness was what made Jake Jake.... but this side of him had your pussy soaked and brain mangled beyond comprehension. You were feral for this confident rendition of the guy you'd been crushing on.

"Jake I can't take anymore please," you beseech him, torn between sobbing at the overstimulation and cumming again. "Please cum!"

"Just like that," He growls, rutting into you harder, the continuous schlick of his cock repeatedly burying itself deep within your soaked, ruined pussy making you squeeze harder and moan loudly.

"Gimme one more, baby." Jake urges, fucking into you faster and peppering your dazed face with soft kisses. "One more and I promise I'll cum with you."

"Mmngh - please."

"Uh huh. You've been so patient, I've just gotta have one more so I can fill you up."

"Oh fuck!" you grip his shoulders like a vice as your orgasm wracks your body so hard all the breath is stolen from your lungs. Your cunt gushes and your thighs tremble, your moan sounding more like a choked sob of Jake's name. As promised Jake follows not long after with a loud groan, painting your walls white and letting your pussy milk him dry before collapsing on top of you, heaving breaths.

You're half dazed, the heat of the room unbearable. You need about three dozen cold showers to wash away the sin your bodies have wreaked.

And maybe a new sofa.

"Oh man," Jake mumbles, his body radiating heat and a silky sheen of sweat. "You felt - You were -"

He takes a shaky inhale and sighs, sinking further onto you, his softening cock still nestled inside you. His brain was clearly struggling to keep up with everything that had just transpired and you chuckle, wrapping your arms loosely around his torso and melting into the sofa.

You're pretty sure you both fall asleep for a good twenty minutes, although since you weren't timing how long Jake was fucking you for and your phone wasn't in reach it may have been even longer.

When you finally blink awake, you still feel bone-tired and legless, not helped by Jake's weight on you.

"We should shower." You whisper after a few moments, drawing circles over Jake's back, his head nestled between your boobs.

"Mmh. Probably." He says, voice quiet and muffled. You peek down and start to grin.

"You don't want to move do you?"

"No. I'm comfy."

"Even if I said we'd shower together?"

Jake untangles himself from you quickly and helps you to your feet, keeping you steady when your jellified legs wobble. With his hands in a gentle grasp around your waist he follows you upstairs to the bathroom, his hands never leaving your hips and the both of you smiling stupidly.

Turning on the shower is slightly more difficult when there's soft kisses to your shoulders and neck distracting you and any playful swats are wilfully ignored. Warm water streams down your bodies and you can't remember the last time you felt so relaxed until today; even with a space cake.

Jake's kisses make their way to your cheeks and the arms around you constrict a little tighter, making you giggle gleefully and your heart thunder slowly, your body too tired for any more excitement.

"Hey you," you chuckle dreamily, leaning back into him. "You've just had your fill."

"I know," he sighs, resting his head on your shoulder. "But I just can't get enough of you."

You peek a glance at him when he squeezes you and burst into laughter. In his excitement to shower with you he'd forgotten to remove his glasses, and they'd fogged up, making him look extra goofy.

"What?" He pouts. "I'm being honest!"

"No, goofball." You snort, gently pulling his glasses off his nose. "You looked stupid with your glasses all fogged up."

"Oh," he bites back a dopey smile and blinks water out of his eyes.

"I can't get enough of you either." You add quietly, standing on tip toes to kiss his lips sweetly.

"You can't?" He beams down at you, eyes twinkling.

You nod firmly. "Nope and I'm very glad you fucked my brains out. I say we watch another movie and cuddle... actually maybe we should put a towel down first."

"Ah but Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm really hungry." Jake looks sheepishly at you. "Can we order some pizza now?"

End

Taglist

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[9lives2mics]

The Beauty of Diverged (Part 1)

Laura: So we see Daryl making little mistakes that he otherwise wouldn't that are almost uncharacteristic because he's not in the right headspace right now. And it's really a stark reminder that he needs Carol with him — plain and simple.

Shalaka: She's the missing piece. I think the implication also is that this is happening right after he clocked that he doesn't have the knife. And I think he's preoccupied because they made a point of showing that shot, the exact shot of how — of when — he gave her the knife.

Laura: And he's worried that he doesn't have a reliable weapon with him now, too.

Shalaka: Yeah, I think a tool is a better word, right?

Laura. Yeah.

Shalaka: I think what it does is it serves the purpose of showing us that she's brought back to the forefront of his mind because she is more clear than the knife is in that shot. So I think, it's very important in that way.

Laura: So I also just really loved 'See you later, asshole.' There's something about the way he said it. I feel like I want to make it my catchphrase now.

Shalaka: I get it, but for me, it's Carol's sing-songy 'See ya later, asshole.' I just, I don't know, it just wins me over every time.

Shalaka: But I also think that the implication is they're probably saying it around the same time, too, because these events are happening simultaneously, right? We're seeing them out of order.

Laura: Yeah, it's concurrent. It's a really good instance of that connective tissue that shows us how they almost operate as one unit, right? One singular entity.

Shalaka: I think the issue is that many people often think that Daryl and Carol are two halves of a whole when, in reality, their relationship is a tapestry.

Shalaka: It's so interwoven that the threads are interlinked, looping around each other, caressing each other, holding each other tightly, and weaving through each other's lives so seamlessly that you can't even tell which thread is Carol and which one is Daryl anymore.

Shalaka: Breaking them doesn't work because it's not a clean cut. When you're cutting the tapestry in the middle, you're ripping both stories in shreds.

Shalaka: There's no way they can ever separate from each other at this point. They're that linked together, and their story is only complete — that tapestry is only complete — when it's both of them weaving it.

Excerpts from Nine Lives Two Mics, Episode #37: A Deep Dive into Diverged.

(Listen on Youtube | Spotify)

[lexithwrites]

okay, so here once again, my list which is too long

my rosekiller hcs:

- they're both heavily tatted and pierced (evan has snakebites and a stretched septum, barty has a bridge, helix, tongue and maybe d*ck piercing, at least one of them has their nipples pierced)

- they both use reg's netflix and/or spotify account

- stoners

- barty ripped black skinny jeans' crouch jr and evan 'oversized skater blue-jeans' rosier

-barty 'monster energy' crouch jr and evan 'red bull' rosier

- if they live together: their doorlock is broken and they have a chain to close it but don't really care about it because they both loose their keys quite often

- barty curses in italian if he's really REALLY mad and evan finds it fucking attractive

- a bit a more niche one: they go out in bars in the slutties outfits ever and both individually flirt with handsome guys and if they like one they introduce him to the other to take that guy home together if hes down.

- barty the type of guy to walk around with a waterbottle filled with straight vodka and take sips from it as if it were water

- evan wears those tees with the black and white pictures of rappers on it (2pac or smth)

- barty once tried to dye his hair blonde but it fried his hair so he had to get a buzzcut

- pandora retwists evs locks

- barty wants people to call him bj because of his initials (bcj) and he doesnt like the 'crouch' cuz it reminds him of his dad. (and also the meaning of bj yk)

- barty calls evan ev, evs, rose or rosie

- if evan had lived today he would have listened to new school rap (like carnival or fe!n)

- barty would listen to måneskin, fall out boy or 21pilots

- evan has a sneaker/shoe collection

- they're into kinky (also leather) shit

yeah sorry its very very long but they are my current hyperfixation if you didn't notice... but these are just MY headcannons so feel free to disagree <3

Anon I want to kiss your brain THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY I’ve had a shit day today and rosekiller hcs ugh beautiful every single thing is a big yes from me especially Barty calling himself BJ I love, and Evan is a sucker for his Italian coming out—and them dressing slutty UGH

[dustisus]

Assigning the Foxes songs from my Spotify Wrapped based on their numbers (and whether I think the song fits them)

inspired by @odetojupiter !

1 - Dan - The Feminine Urge by The Last Dinner Party

Oh, pull your boots on, boys And push me down I'm only here for your entertainment

I am a dark red liver stretched out on the rocks All the poison, I convert it and I turn it to love Here comes the feminine urge, I know it so well To nurture the wounds my mother held

[...]

Failure to commit to the role, I admit Was a failure you achieved on your own Do you want me to care when you just disappear? I can't win them all (I can't win them all)

I do think this song fits her. "Only here for your entertainment" fits well with her work as a stripper, and the rest about her role as the person who has to keep the Foxes together. Maybe not by love, but by force, thus "Do you want me to care when you just disappear? I can't win them all"

2 - Kevin - On Your Side by The Last Dinner Party

I wish I didn't want you Wish I could do without This blood on my face Where you teeth sunk in Bite me again

When it's 4 AM And your heart is breaking I will hold your hands To stop them from shaking If it takes all night I will be on your side

Kevjean anthem. "Where your teeth sunk in, bite me again"? Jean 'I will rip your throat out with my teeth' Moreau, I see you. And then the refrain is so soft.

3 - Andrew - Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan

You can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth

Besides this line, which is basically a quote from Neil, I don't really see it.

4 - Matt - Francesca by Hozier

Do you think I'd give up That this might've shook the love from me Or that I was on the brink? How could you think, darling, I'd scare so easily? Now that it's done There's not one thing that I would change My life was a storm, since I was born How could I fear any hurricane?

I can see this part said to Matt by Dan. The whole song also has a feeling of devout, fought-for love that I can find in their relationship.

5 - Aaron - Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan

Won't make my mama proud, it's gonna cause a scene

[...]

And you dance at the club Oh mama, I'm just having fun

You know I was gonna say no, this song can't be related to Aaron. But Aaron has dreams (of being a doctor, not a dancer) that his mom ridiculed. And he DOES dance at the club. So... it fits a little?

6 - Seth - Nothing Matters by The Last Dinner Party

I hope they never understand us

I put my heart inside your palms My home in your arms Now we know nothing matters Nothing matters

There is a bit of the tragedy of Seth Gordon here, but I don't know.

7 - Allison - Nothing Works by Declan McKenna

I feel wrong, I feel rehearsed I try to fix myself but nothing works I sing the song, and you didn't like the words I try to fix myself but nothing, nothing Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing Nothing, nothing, nothing works

This does not fit with the Allison from the canon at all, as canon Allison is so strong-willed. But maybe she did want to change and fit in with her family before. I don't feel strongly about this one though.

8 - Nicky - Too Sweet by Hozier

You keep telling me to live right To go to bed before the daylight But then you wake up for the sunrise You know you don't gotta pretend, baby, now and then

Don't you just wanna wake up, dark as a lake? Smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze? If you're drunk on life, babe, I think it's great

This doesn't really fit with Nicky x Erik. It fits insanely well if it were about Nicky x Kevin though, but I feel like no one's really ready for that.

9 - Renee - Flea by St. Vincent

Once I'm in, you can't get rid of me

Yeah this doesn't really work for Renee at all, according to me. But according to Renee, I don't know. Based on her saying she's a bad person trying very hard to be a good person, I'm not really sure about how she perceives herself or her motivations.

10 - Neil - Burn Alive by The Last Dinner Party

I am not the girl I set out to be Let me make my grief a commodity Do what I can to survive There is candle wax melting in my veins So I keep myself standing in your flames Burn, burn me alive

Have to say there is a lot of burning of Neil. But besides that, this song does not fit him.

11 - Jeremy - Stick Season by Noah Kahan

Now I am stuck between my anger and the blame that I can't face

[...]

So I thought that if I piled something good on all my bad That I could cancel out the darkness I inherited from dad

(I think) Jeremy has canonically not had a real relationship so I don't think this fits him. But those three lines relate to some headcanons I might have about his past.

29 - Jean - Nobody's Soldier by Hozier

Choose between being a salesman or a soldier Just let me look a little older, let me step a little bolder Choose between being a butcher or a pauper Honey, I'm taking no orders, I'm gonna be nobody's soldier

*Sigh*, maybe someday. Really though I find this song a bit too political to relate to Jean.

If you read all of this, thank you so much. If you disagree with any of my opinions about whether the songs fit them, please tell me! I can be convinced otherwise

[dr2-hell]

now u have me curious, what music do you listen to? (: fave artists, albums, genres, playlists even? songs?? give us a breakdown

YAYYYY YES YES I LOVE MUSIC I AM A MUSIC PERSON OK LETS GO

(fun fact i used to sing at the city choir! but i kind of gave up after being forced to perform perfect by ed sheeran a little too much (i never liked that song. the same fucking notes every 4 times it drives me crazy)

my fave genres are grunge, house (specially french house), heavy metal, hip-hop, synthwave and other rock styles! funnily enough, i can't get into most rock n roll though, idk why??

my all time favorite artists will always be daft punk for making me subconsciously understand music theory and the beauty of instrumentation LMAO (im still so sad about their break up :broken heart emoji: my fathers....)

i also LOVE nirvana. rip kurt cobain. you didnt miss shit and you will always be iconic. (also komaeda is just. every nirvana song in a blender. trust)

ive been a doechii fan ever since i discovered her in 2021 ;; theres not a single skip from her in my opinion.

i've recently started listening to deftones and i've been loving every single moment of it and if i don't get a cd or vynil of around the fur i will die i think.

before this gets too long, heres some more artists i love!:

machine girl, joe valence and brae, poppy, spiritbox, slipknot, ramones, kendrick lamar, megan thee stallion, perturbator, lazerhawk, carpenter brut, lustsickpuppy (who's on tumblr teehee), melted bodies and a lot more!

i fucking hate spotify, and my sister pays for youtube music, so heres some playlists i've made:

OSTS i lose my mind to

synthwave playlist to educare my friends

favorite aggressive tracks

komahina playlist

komaeda playlist

hinata playlist

please note that some songs are repeated in the playlists. alas.

i won't dwell into my favorite albums rn because its getting a little too long ;; maybe next time!

edit: björk and gorillaz, how could i forget about björk and gorillaz.

[toomanythoughts2]

Toki and Murderface RoadTrip Old Fic Idea

I'm the author of the Skwistok Honeymoon Groupchat Fic, and this was another idea that was also going to be a Groupchat fic but it never happened because I was too indecisive about things. So have the ramblings of the possibilities of it all.

Anyway, this was a "Murderface and Toki Roadtrip" fic idea in a groupchat style. It would be after AOTD and after an album was released, and it would have been their own "Friender Bender". Now, I was never able to decide if this was Murdertooth, Polyklok + Murdertooth-Centric, or Established Skwistok with Secret Relationship Dickface. I was leaning toward the last one because then the fic had a plot, specifically one where Toki ends up becoming Murderface's confidant about his queerness and his relationship, and helping him come to terms that coming out to the band won't ostracize him, that he is worthy of love, he is worthy of being proudly in love, and that times aren't what they were when he was a child.

There were random bits that would have fleshed out characters and random scenes that would have been a laugh.

For instance, Murderface and Toki would have drastically different music genres to listen to.

Murderface is the driver while Toki is the passenger princess. Murderface flips between his black metal (which Toki also enjoys), Bachata (Spanish Singing Murderface is canon to me. He just can't speak it. Toki is shook.), opera (He went to that god damn opera by himself for a reason, he's gotta like it.), thrasher, generalized American Boy roadtrip music like Lynard Skynard, Areosmith, and Eagles to name a few (Toki knows these songs but listening to them within the American context of going on a roadtrip does something to his soul.), and The Divas™️ which are classic female artists like Whitney Houston, Cher, and Madonna (Toki is well versed in The Divas™️)

I think Toki would bring out a lot of EDM, Top 40 POP, indie bands with like 100 listeners on Spotify, Actual Norwegian Black Metal, Disney (They both know all the words. Nathan helped him make the playlist), ABBA (It's him and Skwisgaar's guilty pleasure band), and other animated/cartoony music made that's either instrumental or vocal (Think like Hex Girl's "I'm a Hex Girl" from Scooby Doo.)

Obviously, they both have a long list of other type of Metal-centric music that they switch between like Grindcore, Nu Metal, Doom Metal, Power Metal, and lot of lesser known and very niche genres.

Another scene would be Murderface and Toki making a pit stop to Pickles house while on the trip but they don't let Pickles know.

And they don't let Pickles' parents know. They basically sneak into Pickle's parents house while they're gone and steal Calvert's most prized possession, which is a signed football from his favorite player. He won it by using up Pickles' college savings before Pickles' decided he wasn't going to go to college. They steal the football, take pictures of them with the ball, take pictures of them pissing on Molly's garden and then ripping up the flowers, then a last picture of them destroying the football. They then send it all in the groupchat, tagging Pickles like, "Hey, we stopped by your parents place. Hope they don't mind. <3" and Pickles is crying because he's never felt more seen. (Alternatively, Toki and Murderface would have sent the football to Pickles and told him to watch out for a package from them with it in there, perfectly pristine. Then Pickles would have been the one to destroy the ball and send pictures to the group chat.)

There would have been scenes where they're in motel rooms and Murderface is outside filming Toki talking on the phone to Skwisgaar, where he's dubbing over their conversation.

Such as, "(Bad Norwegian Accent) Oh Skwisgaar, it ams beens a wholes 30 minutes of nots speakings to yous. I feels likes I'ms goings to dies. My weaks guitar playings hands can't keeps up the phones withouts yous!" then he would mock Skwisgaar like, "(Bad Swedish accent) I am feelings the sames ways, my littles dildo guitar player. Every seconds you ams away froms me, I dies on the insides. I may pass away withouts yous.” And then he posts the video to the group chat, which Toki chases him around with a bat for because those were private phone calls. (Murderface wasn’t too far off and he’s embarrassed.)

But, if we go down the secret relationship route, the ending of the fic would have been Toki filming Murderface outside of the motel room while Murderface was on the phone with Knubbler, doing the exact same thing. Except, while Toki and Skwisgaar were defensive in the group chat anytime Murderface recorded any of his dubbed phone calls of them, Murderface would confirm that, yes, that’s exactly what he was doing and yes, it was Knubbler. Which would end in them teasing him about it for a bit BUT it would end with a congratulations and good vibes.

There would have been a lot of running gags too.

There would be a running gag of them pissing off different things in the area like the Grand Canyon, Mount Rushmore, and the Hollywood sign. There would also be a gag of them going to all different kinds of tourist traps like the World Largest Paint Ball or Real Life Alien Exhibit (Mystery Shack perhaps?) and them fully believing it/having the best fun. Like, Toki adds a layer to the paint ball and just about cries while Murderface is on the phone with Charles looking at the “alien” and demanding answers on why they couldn’t get aliens. They would also try and sneak into Area 51 but they would be kicked out quickly.

They would also do a lot of touristy things like scenic routes through the mountains or drive in theaters in the Midwest or go to New Orleans for Bourbon St or see the Giant Sequoias in California. There would be a large portion of fluff of them just hanging out together and being friends and doing stuff. Toki would have so many pictures of cats while Murderface, surprisingly, had a lot of pictures of them together. (He’s a changed man after AOTD, he does not want to take for granted his freedom, Toki, and his friendship/relationship with Toki.)

Now, there was also another instance in this fic where they could have made a pit stop at Murderface’s grandma’s house.

This gave me a lot of ideas of what it would look like. I’m partial to my dingey and depleting two story southern home that has not been taking cared of due to poverty and old age while in the middle of acres of woods where the nearest neighbor is 2 miles away.

Now, I am also very partial to ranch Murderface, where they own farm animals such as pigs, chickens, goats, and maybe a cow and a horse. This would have been a somber scene, where Toki is introduced to Murderface’s homelife, along with getting a better understanding of Murderface’s trauma with family. There would have been a moment where Murderface shared pictures or sentimental objects of his mothers with Toki (and the group chat). It also would have tied in some of Murderface’s Appalachian beliefs such as glass bottles on trees and “never go into the woods at night if you hear a woman. That’s not a woman. That’s a skinwalker.” (Murderface fully believes in skinwalkers. He’s a 2am AM Radio listener of conspiracy theories. Is there an active skinwalker in Murderface’s childhood homes area? Possibly. Toki is too scared to get out of bed at night to check.)

There would have also been an attempted hit on their lives as well.

I did dabble in the idea of Toki and Murderface being targeted and hurt while on the trip and having to go to the hospital. It would have been something like this.

Murderface hops off the highway and decides he wants to take a scenic route on the trip. While on this route, he pops a tire somehow. He pulls over to attempt to see how bad it is and if he can just pop on a spare till they can get to an automotive place. Well, someone passes him and pulls over. Thinking they’re coming to help, Murderface greets them, only to then be shot at. Toki, who is still in the car, freaks out and while attempting to get out and help Murderface, Toki gets strangled from an unknown assailant from behind. Fighting happens, Toki knocks out the person behind him and Murderface runs back to the car. However, he gets shot (Don’t worry, he lives) but Toki, who stole the other assailants gun from his belt, shoots at the other guy and hits him in the chest.

Well, Murderface gets back in the car and he has to basically race to the hospital with one popped tire and a bullet wound. Toki has a nasty gash around his neck that’s bruising. Toki is sending a SOS message while Murderface drives. Some of it altered between Toki having to take the wheel while Murderface pumped the pedals to Toki having to take over completely by pushing Murderface’s chair all the way back and climbing in in front of him to take over.

They get the hospital in time, they are treated, and the guys + Charles have the two people plus that area searched. Here would have been the conversation of “Should we come get you to go home?” and Murderface would have said, “Fuck no.”

Basically, it would have been one big self indulgent fic of Murderface and Toki having fun while road tripping around the US and getting into trouble.

[lucksea]

I quite like your Astra design it’s very interesting, I would like to know more about it if you would not mind sharing!

YES ID LOVE TO SHARE!! first of all i wrote the very beginning of his AU here and he has a very newly finished plot-based spotify playlist here if you're interested ! and ill explain a bit of said plot below:

Mad Prince Astra is the result of me wanting a foil for Tregear in my bigger oc-based AU and also wanting astra to be more relevant bc i like him. so in some ways hes kind of the opposite of tregear? prince astra is very prideful, arrogant, and intentionally hypocritical, doing whatever he wants and usually killing anyone who tries to stop him. leaning a lot on the prince title here. but he doesnt just deal in destruction-- he still has morals that he follows, and is still compelled to help people at times. he wanders around, enacting himself on any situation he likes (or dislikes). hes aware that he is no hero, but he doesn't care. the difference between his own justice and that of the ultra warriors is just a matter of perspective, anyways.

astra is desperate for control of his life, and for meaning in a universe where his home was burned to the ground and he could do nothing to stop it. now, he has literally infinite power, and infinite knowledge of the multiverse, granted to him by the shadowy being using its own body to bandage him.

this creature is sapient, but uncaring of the world. it knows everything, but it lacks understanding. it attached itself to astra because it could sense powerful emotions inside him that it didnt understand. it responds to his every wish, whether he notices or not; the powers astra thinks of as his own are simply the being acting on his behalf. it is so deeply intwined with him that he has never noticed the difference. essentially, it's holding him in a constant state of undeath-- if it were to be forced out of astra, he would die in minutes. it COULS heal the wounds that would kill him, but it hasnt thought to do that. they have something of a symbiotic nature. astra thinks of the creature as his friend and companion. technically, he's named it Nous, but i have yet to draw or write anything in which he acknowledges its presence or name... i don't know if you're familiar with The Golden Compass, but Nous was inspired by the alethiometer. specifically, a scene in The Subtle Knife:

although when astra had asked who tregear was, Nous had replied, "He is a liar." which began a streak of fascination that would forever change the world

astras relationship with tregear is a lot of fun to play with and is impossible for me to not bring up . one of the reasons for that is because astra knew tregear Twice ! he encountered the tregear from his own universe at some point before the events of taiga took place there. he was originally just intrigued by a handsome stranger (as my astra is a bit more promiscuous than his canon counterpart as well just to add to the Entitled Prince attitude), but upon talking to tregear, astra was instantly fascinated by him. tregear is made of contradictions, and astra wants to rip them out of him, straighten them up, and see what's left of tregear when he's done. there are plenty of points that they genuinely disagree on, and plenty more that astra argues simply to infuriate tregear.

after the tregear of his original universe died, astra got bored and discovered he could travel through the multiverse. after some wandering around, he encountered the showtime universe just to find another tregear about to die. so astra pulled some strings and twisted space and mixed a little bit of Grimdo into tregear's fading soul, just enough to send him falling down to earth rather than disappear entirely........ and that's how ember's key starts

astra has his own dedicated tag both here [#per astra ad coronam] and on my showtime blog, @ultrashowtime under #Astra <3

[eightglass]

ignore this if it's too public but, what do you use for ripping audio? I've been using cobalt.tools but it's not very efficient for whole playlists. been thinking about that spotify post a lot lol

Ough.. I usually don't rip audio. not for music at least.

See, youtube, and youtube music, only streams audio at 128kbps quality (256 if you have premium). Which is... mediocre. High-quality MP3 files are usually 320kbps, and good .flac files are variable bitrate but usually end up several times higher than that. (Doesn't really matter tho, most bluetooth only streams at 320 anyways, and if you can tell the difference and want to use a cord, you already need better headphones.)

So... I usually try to find a torrent that already has the music I'm looking for, which is... not everything. If you're looking for more popular stuff, you can look up, like "depeche mode discography" and it'll be there, all high quality and decent metadata to unzip into your ~/music folder.

But for the stuff you can't find on there, your best bet is lucida.to

It's... janky and not very consistently up, prone to weird errors and random problems, but when it does work, you get good-quality music files out of it. They might come in .ogg, which you'll have to convert (i like fre:ac) to mp3 or flac if you want metadata to work, but it's usually good.

Also, don't trust any online "spotify downloader" websites; afaik, nobody has cracked spotify's encryption. What they're doing is searching youtube, finding each song, download that, and putting spotify metadata on it. Maybe the file will even say 320kbps, but that's a lie, if you open it up in the right viewer it'll be 128. There's shitty paid software available that will "rip" from spotify by actually messing with your Spotify client, making it actually play the song at a higher speed or something, and then ripping that, but... not really worth it. Piracy is meant to be free, damnit!

If you really want to rip good audio files, you'll have to, like, get a Tidal or Deezer subscription and use software to rip from that.

...Now! If you weren't asking about music, want to rip from Youtube, and/or don't care whether your quality is good, I use and love Stacher!

It's a GUI for yt-dlp, which is like, the command-line youtube downloading tool, and... it works.

Like, I used this to download all of The Magnus Archives; I just pasted the playlist url into it and it downloaded each one. It'll be great for like, podcasts, or things for which you won't really care about super fidelity? or if you want to download tons of videos, it'll do that.

Yaa files!!!!!

[foxes-that-run]

Something Great

Something Great is a less known One Direction song, but one with good Haylor Lore. Let's's start with the Spotify Visual, I love the Harry focus for a song he wrote with collaborators outside the band.

When was it written

Something Great was written with Jacknife Lee, Gary Lightbody and Harry, no other One Direction collaborators. There are 2 times it was worked on, both in 2012. The first was around 20 May 2012. In 2018 to Hotpress Jacknife Lee said, while talking about Taylor and The Last Time:

“She [Taylor] was seeing Harry Styles at the time, so he came to Topanga on her recommendation… It was the same thing – quick. But this time it was more directed by the management and label. They were after something specific. I wanted more acoustic and gentle, almost Americana, and they wanted bombast. They got what they wanted, and that was the extent of my foray into teen-pop territory. It was fun,”

Something Great is the only song Harry and Jacknife wrote on together and that quote says they did not again.

Though Gary Lightbody tweeted 16 November 2012 (x) that they spend the day yesterday with Harry writing a great song. While the first writing session (the Americana version Jacknife liked) would have been an option for Take Me Home this session is just after TMH was released and maybe this was reengineering it to fit onto midnight memories.

Harry did write more with Gary Lightbody, to the Sun, in mid-2013 he said, commenting they still had not come out (it is on Midnight Memories, a year after it was worked on with Jacknife Lee.

“We wrote with Harry. It was a lot of fun. He’s a real dude actually. We’ve no idea if those songs will make it yet, though. It’s a long process. It’s great to work with other people – it’s good to flex the muscle,”

Lyrics

Verse 1

One day you’ll come into my world and say it all / You’ll say we’ll be together even when you’re lost

Harry imagines a future where the person they love finally steps fully into their life and says everything they’ve wanted to hear. The hope is for unconditional commitment—even through confusion or emotional turbulence. "The use of “one day” sets a wistful, yearning tone. "One Day" is a recurring Haylor theme, along with forever and waiting.

As a bonus, I also think of Something Great as related to Death By A Thousand Cuts. Taylor said she wrote DBATC after watching the film Someone Great. However the sto#haylor#midnight memories#Youtube#one direction#one direction haylor#song analysis#Lyric analysis#Happily#Savan Kotechary of DBATC is more similar to the song than that film.

Verse 2

One day you’ll say these words I’ve thought but never said / You’ll say we’re better off together in our bed

This verse is wishing the other person to express what the speaker has only dared to think. The mention of “our bed” really expresses the longing. This strongly reminds me of:

I Wish You Would: 'Cause you still don't know what I never said

Chorus

I want you here with me / Like how I pictured it / So I don’t have to keep imagining Come on jump out at me / Come on bring everything / Is it too much to ask for something great

I love how kinetic “Jump out at me” is, Harry is hoping the dream could just come true, suddenly and completely. “Something great” isn’t defined—but you feel it: a real, consuming love. There’s a quiet desperation in “Is it too much to ask…”

Verse 3

The script was written and I could not change a thing / I want to rip it all to shreds and start again

This introduces a sense of fate—or at least resignation. It’s like the speaker’s role in this relationship (or non-relationship) has been predetermined. The desire to “rip it all to shreds” is about reclaiming control, rewriting the story, and maybe finally being seen.

This is quite similar to the lack of agency in The Last Time, but the opposite of it, like there was a miscommunication.

Verse 4

One day I’ll come into your world and get it right / I’ll say we’re better off together here tonight

There’s a shift here—the speaker isn’t just waiting. They’re imagining taking the step themselves, entering the other person’s world with clarity and certainty. “Here tonight” emphasizes the present—the real possibility of action rather than fantasy.

Refrain (Repeated Chorus)

I want you here with me / Like how I pictured it...

The repetition mimics the obsessive loop of longing. The speaker can’t stop envisioning the perfect version of this love. It builds with intensity each time.

Outro

You’re all I want / So much it's hurting

The last lines are raw. The desire has reached a painful point—what was once beautiful and hopeful now hurts. There’s no hiding or poetic language anymore; just the stripped-down truth of unrequited or unreachable love.

[hyunfilms]

blue side of the sky (lmh) | 12.5 [cloudy days] chan

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—12.5 [CLOUDY DAYS] chan's thoughts

—WORD COUNT: 0.9k

—ON ROTATION: w.a.y.s - jhené aiko

Chan remembers the first time he met you. He was playing around with some beats on his mini turntable, while Seungmin was organizing his side of the room. There was a bathroom that connected their room to Minho and Jisung's room, and they always left those doors open when it wasn't in use— just to help both rooms get acquainted over time. He could hear your voice echoing through the bathroom, loud laughters erupting from you, Jisung and Minho. Chan doesn't like to be in people's business, so he continued to play around with his beats. It wasn't until you popped into the room a few minutes later, ripping Chan's attention away from his laptop.

And he remembers that twinkle in your eyes just like yesterday.

☁︎ FLASHBACK

"Y/N! Come back and stop bothering them!" Jisung harshly says from their room.

"Chill out, I'm just gonna say hi to your suitemates and come back." You bite back.

"Babe. They might be busy." Minho adds, making you sigh and roll your eyes as you continue your walk through the bathroom and into Chan and Seungmin's room. Chan's eyes immediately land on you, while Seungmin adjusts his shirt after reorganizing his shelves.

"Hi! I'm Y/N. Jisung's bestfriend, Minho's girlfriend." You smile brightly, eyes holding the galaxy as you look at them with warmth. "I thought I'd introduce myself. Hope I'm not a bother."

"No, not at all." You giggle and turn back to Jisung and Minho with a quick 'see.' "Chan." Chan reaches out to shake your hand.

"Seungmin!" Seungmin waves. "Heard lots about you already."

"Good things, I hope."

"Do you live on this floor, too?" Chan asks.

"No." You chuckle. "Two floors up." 

"Nice."

"Well, I'll probably be in their room a lot. Hope you don't mind me popping in from time to time." Chan laughs and shakes his head.

"No, not at all."

"I heard you working on some beats though, maybe you can show me some next time?"

"R-really?" Chan stutters a bit, surprised at your interest in what he does.

"Yeah, of course! I always thought it was pretty cool."

"I can show you a bit of what I'm working on now, if you aren't busy."

"Not at all! I'd love to hear it." You smile and lean onto Chan's bed, listening to him explain what his thought process has been.

☁︎ END

Ever since then, you've always graced him and Seungmin with your presence— bringing them food to eat, or simply greeting them with enthusiasm and positivity. It's one of the things he really liked about you. It was easy to click with you and get along with you. Whenever he was hanging out with you and Minho, he never felt like a third-wheel; which, surprisingly, is something that bothers Chan because he just wants to be able to hang out with his friends without feeling like he needs to excuse himself. You were always down to do anything and everything, always accompanying him on random fast food runs, grocery runs, always sending him good vibes before important milestones.

You always had that huge, beautiful twinkle in your eyes.

He does believe in people making mistakes. After all, everyone is human and deserves a chance to do learn and do better. But, he would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed in Minho. Of course he was. He was disappointed in Minho for letting Kat get in the way. He doesn't know every single detail about your relationship, but he was sure there were other ways to fix things instead of giving up and running to another person for.. what, exactly? Consoling? Validation? Especially while you were in the hospital— Chan will never understand it, but who was he to dictate how Minho lived his life? He could hate his friend for it, but he could also continue to hope and push for him to do better.

He is sad for the way things turned out. 

Everything is sad, unfair; sadly unfair.

Even then, you never really lost the twinkle in your eyes. Even when Minho hurt you, even when you've questioned your worth and where you've gone wrong. You never lost the twinkle in your eyes, and Chan is thankful for having you; a constant that has adapted in ever-changing conditions.

Chan is still sad for the way things are turning out.

He wishes he could do more to be there for you, to help you, to bring back that twinkle in your eyes. The twinkle in your eyes isn't necessarily gone, no— moreso just a little lost, a little misguided. And there isn't anything wrong with that. He just hopes it'll fully come back. He hopes you'll still have the same twinkle in your eyes when the boys finally tell you what has happened, he hopes you'll still have the same twinkle in your eyes when you find out the hurt you've been through, the mistakes that have led to everything now.

He doesn't really know where to place himself. Every day, he feels lost. Torn. Not sure which way to turn when it comes to you, to Jisung and to Minho. He keeps quiet and tries to distance himself enough because he feels lost. Though, he understands Jisung's need to keep this tucked away until you're ready. He understands the feelings that are resurfacing for Minho. He understands why he, himself, is going along with this. He is doing this because he hopes you find that twinkle in your eyes again. 

He hopes you will find it in yourself to pull through and find the strength to continue on when the truth comes out. He hopes you will find it in yourself to forgive everyone for trying to help you— help you find that same twinkle in your eyes before the accident, before all the pain, before all the hurt.

Everything is just.. unfair. Sadly unfair.

But, he hopes you find the twinkle in your eyes again.

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