#I was thinking about animated series but I don’t think the themes of what it means to be human | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

longing-for-rain · 7 months ago

Text

Katara and Mutuality in Relationships

There are lots of conflicting opinions about which characters Katara felt attraction towards, which characters she didn’t, and how long she felt that attraction. I see in most cases, people point to quick clips of her faintly blushing or kissing another character on the cheek as evidence, but I think these kind of takes miss the nuance of the purpose attraction serves in a story.

Most importantly, I see these characters treated as if they are actually people capable of making their own decisions. It’s important to remember that these are fictional characters. They don’t make their own choices; the writers make their choices for them for the purpose of telling a story. From that standpoint, it’s more valuable to examine how a character’s story and narrative themes tie into their relationships with other characters. Animators can shove in a kiss or a blush wherever they want, but it’s harder to demonstrate through storytelling how and why two characters might feel attraction towards one another, and how a relationship between them would develop both characters and contribute to the overarching themes of the story.

In other words, when discussing which characters Katara is “attracted” to, I’m discussing which relationships and actions within the narrative build on her established story and arc. Romance is always integrated into a story for a reason, and considering that reason is important.

Unfortunately, ATLA is very much a product of its time in this way. It’s easy to see what romance adds to the arcs of the male characters—but not so much with the female characters. All three canon relationships (kataang, sukka, and maiko) follow this trend to some degree. The primary purpose of the woman in this narrative is to act as a prize for the man for performing some good deed. Once they’re together, she ceases having her own motivations and becomes an extension of the male character she’s dating. This is pretty blatant with Suki—she barely had a personality in that later seasons; she is there to be Sokka’s girlfriend. Similarly, Katara becomes a completely different character—she’s even animated differently—when the narrative pushes her into romantic scenes with Aang. Her character is flattened.

So what is Katara’s arc, and how do the romantic interactions she has throughout the series contribute to this?

Well, that could be a whole other essay itself, but to put it simply, Katara’s arc is one of a young girl devastated by grief at a young age clinging to hope that she has the power to fight and change the world for the better. Which she does as she gains power and confidence throughout the series—culminating in her defeating Azula in the finale.

But the part I want to focus on here is how Katara connects with other characters. She connects with them over shared experiences of grief and loss.

Take Haru, for instance.

Haru: After the attack, they rounded up my father and every other earthbender, and took them away. We haven't seen them since.

Katara: So that's why you hide your earthbending.

Haru: Yeah. Problem is…the only way I can feel close to my father now is when I practice my bending. He taught me everything I know.

Katara: See this necklace? My mother gave it to me.

Haru: It’s beautiful.

Katara: I lost my mother in a Fire Nation raid. This necklace is all I have left of her.

Haru: It’s not enough, is it?

Katara: No.

This isn’t just a throwaway moment; it’s an important character moment that leads up to growth and the progression of Katara’s overall story, both in this individual episode and in the whole series.

Katara finds her power in the connections she’s able to make with other characters. It’s a powerful driving force for her that makes her a strong character even before her bending abilities develop. Imprisoned was such an important episode to establish who Katara is and what her power is, and adds so much to her arc.

But there is one line in particular from the above exchange that also stands out: Haru says “it’s not enough, is it?” and Katara agrees. Even this early in the series, we’re establishing the fact that despite her drive and hopeful outlook, Katara feels deeply hurt, she feels a deep sense of loss that she opens up about to other characters in moments like these. But unlike Haru…Katara can’t go rescue her mother. Her mother is dead, and we see her grapple with that grief throughout the series.

Another character she reaches out to like this is Jet.

Jet: Longshot over there? His town got burned down by the Fire Nation. And we found The Duke trying to steal our food. I don't think he ever really had a home.

Katara: What about you?

Jet: The Fire Nation killed my parents. I was only eight years old. That day changed me forever.

Katara: Sokka and I lost our mother to the Fire Nation.

Jet: I’m so sorry, Katara.

Another important note about Jet is that there are explicit romantic feelings from Katara in this episode. Again, Katara empathizes with another character through a shared sense of loss. Sadly, in this case, Jet manipulated her feelings and tricked her into helping in his plot to flood the village…but those feelings were undeniably there.

That was the tragedy in this episode, but it also gives the audience so much information about Katara as a character: what motivates her, and what she wants. Katara is established as a character who wants someone who will connect with her and empathize with her over her loss—her greatest sense of trauma. She wants to help others but also receive support in return. The reason why she was smitten with Jet, beyond just initial attraction, is because he gave her a sense of that before Katara realized his true motivations.

A lot of people make the claim that Aang is good for Katara because he also feels a sense of great loss and trauma. And while on paper that’s true…does he really demonstrate that? I just gave two examples of characters Katara connected with this way, and both responded with deep empathy to what she said. Very early on in the show—the third episode—Katara attempts to connect with Aang the same way. How does he respond?

Katara: Aang, before we get to the temple, I want to talk to you about the airbenders.

Aang: What about 'em?

Katara: Well, I just want you to be prepared for what you might see. The Fire Nation is ruthless. They killed my mother, and they could have done the same to your people.

Aang: Just because no one has seen an airbender, doesn't mean the Fire Nation killed them all. They probably escaped!

Just compare this exchange to Haru and Jet. No effort to empathize, not even a “sorry for your loss” or anything. It’s a stark contrast, and the reason for that is because this narrative entirely centers Aang. Katara’s narrative always seems to be secondary to his when they’re together—which is exactly my point when I say this relationship has a fundamental lack of mutuality. It’s built that way from the beginning of the series. It does not add to Katara’s arc nor establish what about this dynamic would attract her.

And, look, before someone jumps down my throat about this…I’m not saying Aang is a horrible person for this response. I think it’s a sign that he’s immature and has a fundamentally different approach to problems than Katara. Katara is a character who has been forced to take on responsibilities beyond her years due to being a child of a war-torn world. Aang’s approach to problems is avoidance while Katara never had that luxury. It doesn’t mesh well.

This is all in Book 1. I honestly could have gotten on board with Kataang if the series meaningfully addressed these issues…but it didn’t. In fact, they actually got worse in some ways.

Back to Katara’s mother. We’ve established that this is a core part of Katara’s character and like in the scene with Haru, she indicates that this is an unresolved issue that pains her. But then, in Book 3, Katara actually does get a chance to confront this pain.

This would have been a powerful moment. Surely the character who is meant to be her partner, her equal, would have been there for her. Surely he would have understood and supported her, fulfilling her narrative and adding to her story.

But Aang didn’t do that. I won’t go into details because there are a million analyses out there on The Southern Raiders, but Aang’s response to Katara was the opposite of understanding. He got angry with her, insinuated that she was a monster for wanting revenge, and tried to dictate her behavior according to his own moral values. And importantly, from a narrative standpoint, he did not go with Katara. One of the most important events in her arc, and Aang didn’t support her—he actually tried stopping her. He didn’t contribute to her growth and development.

Also noteworthy:

Katara: But I didn’t forgive him. I’ll never forgive him.

Even at the end of the episode, Aang clearly doesn’t understand at all what Katara is feeling. This line demonstrates it perfectly. He thinks she forgave him when that wasn’t the case at all…but of course, he didn’t even accompany her, so he didn’t see what actually took place. His worldview is fundamentally different from hers, and he’s consistently too rigid in his morality and immature to center Katara’s feelings.

Throughout Katara’s whole arc, her most significant character moments, Aang’s character just doesn’t come through the way Katara’s constantly does for him. Their narrative lacks mutuality. When Katara and Aang are together, she becomes an accessory to him. The ending scene is a perfect demonstration of this.

Now, to address the elephant in the room.

Which character does actually add to Katara’s narrative and support her growth as a character?

Correct! I just talked about how important The Southern Raiders is to Katara’s character and story, how it’s a chance for her to finally address the grief she’s been carrying since Book 1. And who stood by her side throughout this pivotal moment? Right—Zuko did.

You can talk all you want about how he’s a “colonizer” while Aang’s people suffered genocide, but you’re forgetting that “show, don’t tell” is one of the most basic aspects of storytelling. The fact is, despite how it looks on paper, Zuko was the one there for Katara at her critical moments. Zuko empathized with Katara more than Aang ever did—as demonstrated in this episode. Zuko never once brought up his own cultural values. Zuko never once told Katara what to do. Zuko’s position was that Katara should be the one to decide, and that he would support any choice she made. He supported her decision to spare Yon Rha, but he would have also supported her if she decided to kill him. I actually found this episode to be a satisfying reversal to what is typically seen in TV—for once, the female character is centered while her male counterpart takes the backseat and becomes a supporting role to her narrative.

Even before this, Zuko is shown to empathize with Katara.

Zuko: I’m sorry. That’s something we have in common.

I think what gets me about this scene is the fact that he’s still Katara’s enemy, and she was just yelling about how she hates him and his people. But despite that, Zuko still empathizes with Katara. She is fundamentally human to him, and he expresses that to her in a way that allows them to connect. Zuko stands to gain nothing from this. It’s true that Azula entered the picture and twisted things around—but in this moment, Zuko’s compassion is genuine. His instinct was to respond to her grief with empathy, just like she consistently does for other characters.

And finally, how else does Zuko add to Katara’s arc?

I don’t think there is any more perfect of an example than the finale itself—the culmination of the arcs and development of all characters.

Zuko and Katara fight together. In a heartbeat, Zuko asks Katara to fight by his side against Azula, because he trusts her strength. She’s his equal—both in his mind, and in a narrative sense.

Then, this:

Both of their roles are so critical in this fight. They both save each other. The scene has such raw emotion to it. These characters were together at the conclusion of their respective arcs for a reason.

This is the perfect conclusion to Katara’s arc. She just played a critical role in ending the war that has caused her trauma her whole life. She just demonstrated her mastery of waterbending (another thing she’s dreamed of throughout the series) by defeating the world’s most powerful firebender during Sozin’s Comet. Even though she had help as all characters do, these are victories that belong to her and demonstrate the growth and power of her character. And to top it all off? She was able to save Zuko’s life. She didn’t have to endure the pain of feeling helpless to do anything while someone else died for her; this time, she had an active role, she changed her fate, and she prevailed. Zuko plays an important role in Katara’s story without dominating it. They perfectly represent mutuality. They add to each other’s stories. Their narratives become stronger when they’re together, without one diminishing or sidelining the other.

So, from that standpoint, that’s why I always see the attraction between Zuko and Katara and why I see it lacking between Aang and Katara. Zuko and Katara’s story doesn’t need some cheap little throwaway moments to shine. It’s integral to both characters’ stories. We are shown not told of the way these characters feel about each other. Given everything we know about Katara, her goals, her values, her past loves…absolutely everything points to Zuko being the true subject of her feelings.

Because let’s be honest. The ending I just described is so much more powerful and so much more Katara than seeing her being relegated back to a doe-eyed love interest for Aang to kiss. It hardly even made sense—Katara played no role at all at the culmination of Aang’s arc. She was relegated back to a love interest, rather than the powerful figure we saw fight alongside Zuko.

#zutara #katara #zuko #atla #anti kataang #canon critical #jet #haru #katara deserved better #aang critical #meta #analysis

675 notes · View notes

twilghtkoo · 2 years ago

Text

xoxo - lee donghyuck

synopsis. in which, your little niece has a crush on your boyfriend.

pairings. donghyuck x reader (f)

genre. fluff, established relationship, non!idol au

warnings. none!

notes. this idea is inspired by this tiktok i saw T_T i was like holy shit this is cute now let’s make it about hyuck :D also something is wrong w my taglist, it says it got deleted but i didn’t delete it so i might have to make a new one😭 so if the link isn’t working that’s why!! just letting y’all know :)

masterlist | series masterlist

—

“and she hates the crust on her bread–“ your older sister tries to inform.

you push her out your door, mindlessly nodding your head. “i know, i know, don’t worry she’s gonna be fine. now go, before you’re late.” you wave to her one last time before you close the door behind her with a huff.

your six year old niece is still standing behind you with her bluey backpack on her shoulders that has all the things that would entertain her for tonight.

“hi, sweetie. i missed you,” you crouch down to her level, helping her out of her shoes and taking off her backpack.

“i missed you too, auntie!” she smiles and takes off to your living room, giggling.

you had already put on her favorite cartoon on your tv, as you follow her with her bag in your hands before placing it beside the couch.

she’s totally immersed herself in the animated slice-of-life adventures of the dog family. you stand inches away from her, amused at how she has blocked out all of her surroundings.

you turn to walk into your kitchen, thinking of preparing something easy for dinner.

“auntie!” your niece calls out from the living room.

you hum in response, putting away the dried dishes from last night.

“is donghyuck-ie coming over today?” she asks, curiously. and you know just by her tone and the mention of her second favorite person (first is obviously me) she’s twiddling her fingers.

you chuckle to yourself. “yes, he’s coming over later though.”

you hear her gasp before it goes back to being silent, the faint sound of the tv echoing through your apartment.

you’ve noticed your little niece’s infatuation with your boyfriend and you and donghyuck think it’s the cutest thing. she loves playing with him when he comes over while you’re babysitting her, making him sit in the living room with her and color and play with her toys. she gets all shy and geeky when donghyuck walks with her holding hands.

your older sister finds it funny and amusing.

“tell your boyfriend to stop being so handsome yeah? my daughter is bragging to everybody that donghyuck-ie bought her a toy.” your sister groans into your ear, on the phone with you.

—

you’ve been busy preparing dinner in the kitchen, appreciating the comforting sound of bluey and bingo playing along. every so and so minutes you check on your niece by calling her name.

“yes?”

“just checking on you, you good?”

she hums cutely. “yes auntie.” you peek your head out, seeing her sprawled out on the floor with her backpack next to her and all its contents spread out. she’s drawing something in front of the tv, concentrating with her tongue poking out as she scribbled with her crayons and gazing up at the tv.

she crawls up to her feet, bending down to grab the piece of paper she was doodling on before stomping over to you.

“auntie! auntie!”

you raise your eyebrows, giving her your undivided attention.

she shoves the piece of paper in your face. “look!”

you lean your head back, blinking, trying to adjust to what she’s showing you.

she’s holding up a stationary bluey themed piece of paper that has blue textured crayon words written neatly across the printed lines.

‘dear sunflower ♡’

you gasp, bringing your hands to cover your mouth. “is this a letter for donghyuck?” you whisper to her, from her view, your eyes shaped into crescent moons and your hands are covering your smile.

your niece giggles, using the letter in her tiny hands to hide her face as the pig tails from her head bounce from her nodding.

“he’s gonna love it! i mean, who doesn’t love bluey?” you ask rhetorically, hands on your hips.

“right?”

the doorbell chimes throughout your small home, both you and your niece look at each other with big eyes. already knowing who’s behind the door. your niece runs out the kitchen and into the living room squealing as you make your way to let your boyfriend in.

“hi pretty.” haechan grins at you, his eyelids looking a bit heavy and you already know work was tough on him. he still smiles and extends his arms out for you.

you wrap your arms around his neck, playfully groaning when he squeezes you tight in his grasp.

he lets out a breathy laugh, grabbing your waist to pull you away to connect his lips with yours in a slow, gentle kiss. his hands roaming over your lower back and creeping down to your ass.

“sunflower!” you both break the kiss, you walk back to the kitchen while he bends down to greet the little girl.

“aigoo, hi cutie. how are you?” you hear him coo at her.

—

“thank u yn for the food.”

“thank you auntie for the food!” they both say at the same time.

you reach over the table to grab their plates and placing them inside the sink, your niece jumps up from her seat and runs out the kitchen. donghyuck takes this moment to snake his hands from behind to lace his fingers together so you can’t run.

his body towering over you, he leans down to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck, peppering small kisses on your exposed skin. “thank you for dinner baby,” he mumbles against your skin.

you smile, “of course.”

“sunflower!”

he pats your ass, pecking the top of your head before walking away. “yes bum bum,” he replies. the nickname that seemed fitting and grew on her over time, it being short for bumble bee.

“i made something for you.” the little girl shyly utters, the piece of paper in her hands as she shoves it in his hands.

he laughs lightly, sitting on the balls of his feet. “did you draw something for me?”

she shakes her head, her toothy smile on display, her hands behind her back as she sways back and forth on her feet.

you appear behind donghyuck, relaxing your hand on his shoulder.

it’s a comforting silence in your apartment, he’s taking the time to carefully read each word and reading a certain word over again because of the misspelling but he finds it endearing, his smile growing wider as he gets closer to the end.

‘xoxo, bum bum :)’

“hugs and kisses, where did you learn that from?”

“school!” she exclaims.

“school shouldn’t be teaching you how to win hearts,” he states with a playful pout.

she clasps her hands together, stepping closer towards him to point at the tiny prints. “i used my bluey stationary kit, do you like the paper?”

“i do, i’m very honored and i’m going to hang it up in my home. this is my first letter i got from a girl!” he whisper-shouts in your niece’s ear.

obviously you heard him and that made you nudge him with your knee, making him lose his balance.

“auntie you have to write sunflower love letters.”

he smirks, “yeah, auntie.”

#yeow6n #haechan fluff #lee donghyuck #nct fluff #haechan drabbles #haechan #haechan imagines #nct dream #haechan x reader #haechan scenarios #nct haechan #soft haechan #boyfriend!haechan #nct x reader #nct reactions #nct scenarios #nct drabbles #lee haechan #lee donghyuck fluff

3K notes · View notes

cevansbrat0007 · 1 year ago

Text

Bad Days

Summary: Ari helps you get through a particularly bad day...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Insecure Reader, Ari Being A Menace, Discussions of Poor Body Image, Body Insecurities, Name Calling, Mentions of Disordered Eating, Clothed Male Nude Female (CMNF), Oral Sex (Fem Rec Implied), Ass Slapping, Spanking (mentioned), Pet Names, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“I don’t think I wanna do this.” You grumble as you walk into the living room. You lean down to hand your companion a glass of scotch, offering him a half smile when he gently takes it and places it on a nearby coffee table. “Seriously.”

Instead of responding, he simply pats his lap and waits.

“Okay. How about we don’t need to do this?” You try again, hating how relaxed his big body seems while taking up way too much space on your couch.

Ari shrugs then, catching his plump bottom lip between his perfect teeth and waits. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t demand. Doesn’t boss. He just waits.

For you.

“It’s stupid.” Your voice comes out softer now, more delicate. “And it’s not like it's gonna change anything.”

Your Bounty Hunter cocks his head to the side, one tawny brow raised as he patiently waits for you to continue cycling through your list of objections.

“I just have bad days sometimes.” Hot tears prick the backs of your eyes. But even though you’re quick to blink them away, you’re not quite fast enough.

Ari studies you for a moment, his piercing blue eyes making your nipples pebble beneath the thin material of your silk robe. It made it hard to remember that you were technically in trouble. Which meant that was was about to happen could technically be construed as a punishment.

“Then why don’t you be my good little Bird and have a seat, hm?” Your man’s deep voice comes out thick and rough. And while you have a feeling that he wants to make you obey, you know he also wants you to come to him on your own.

“Can the robe stay on, maybe?” You ask, your freshly polished toes digging into the short, plush carpet. “What if I get cold? Or–”

“You won’t.” He softly interjects, widening his jean-covered thighs just a little. Because although you didn’t know this, he’d already made a couple quick adjustments to the thermostat just in case. The last thing your man wanted to do was make you uncomfortable – at least not like that.

And then he holds out his hand for your robe. You stand there glaring at him, the two of you engaged in a silent battle of wills. He wins, of course. But only because you have nothing to throw at him.

Except for your goddamned robe, which the smug bastard manages to catch midair.

Ari tosses it to the other side of the couch before returning his attention to you. He’s pleased when you take a tentative step toward him, followed by another. And then another. The next thing you know, you’re slowly easing your nude body onto his lap…

And into his waiting arms.

Immediately he wraps them around you, drawing you closer to his hard, muscled body. It never fails to make you feel soft and feminine – even when your mind was busy screaming at you that you were anything but.

Today you felt dumpy, fat, and unattractive.

But then here was this handsome man, holding onto you as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. It was enough to make you start crying all over again. Just like you had this earlier morning.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat as you work to speak.

“I gotta be honest with you, baby.” Ari murmurs after a few minutes, his warm lips skimming over your brow. “I didn’t like what I heard come outta that pretty mouth this morning. Especially didn’t like it when you called yourself a pig.”

“Why?” You choke out a wet laugh. “Would you rather I have compared myself to some other barnyard animal?”

You’re rewarded for your snark with a sharp slap to your left flank, which suddenly has you burying your face in the crook of his neck.

Oops. Guess that wasn’t the response he was looking for.

“No.” He grunts as you feel his fingers dig into the tender flesh of your thighs. You had no doubt that you’d be sporting a delicious set of fresh bruises on your skin by tomorrow morning.

“Oh.” Whimpering softly, you wrap your arms around his neck as you try to ignore the way his possessive, proprietary touch makes your body flare to life.

“I wanna know why you felt the need to make the comment at all. Regardless of whether you knew I was listening or not.”

And there was the rub. You hadn’t expected him to come during your meltdown, let alone actually hear you berating yourself to the degree that you had been. Had you known you’d had an audience you would’ve at least had the sense to lock yourself in the bathroom or something, but instead you’d just had to cry your heart out in the middle of your bedroom floor.

You must’ve looked so pathetic to him in that moment.

“Stop.” Ari commands, the single word spoken like a heated caress against your ear. “Whatever mean thought you’re thinkin’, I’m tellin’ you to knock it off right now.”

“H–how?” Your question comes out muffled thanks to the fact that your face is still hidden in his neck.

“You have a tendency to tense up whenever you’re being unkind to yourself, sweet girl.” He replies with a shrug before forcing you to pull away from him so that he can look into your eyes.

“I–I do?” No one had ever thought to share that with you before.

“Yep. Sure do.” He pinches your nipple as his gaze briefly drops to your bare cunt. “As your man, it’s my job to notice these things. Even when all I wanna do is bury my fingers knuckle-deep inside that tight little pussy until you’re drippin' and speaking in tongues, this shit comes first.”

Your hips jerk of their own volition when Ari reaches down to tenderly cup your sensitive core, massaging your damp flesh. Instantly you feel your slick honey coating his palm, making your cheeks heat.

It didn’t help that you always seemed to end up naked around this man while he stayed fully clothed. In the past you’d only read about that kind of power dynamic. But these days you were beginning to enjoy it.

“So tell me what has my woman being so hard on herself today? Be honest, now.” He presses as his fingers go trail their way along your belly, an action that has you immediately sucking in your stomach.

“Can we please turn off the lights?” You ask, feeling somehow both shy and stubborn at the same time. “At least some of them?”

“No.” He hisses back, not to be outdone. “You’re too beautiful not to look at, Bird. I might as well be a moth drawn to your flame, that’s how much hope there is for me these days.”

“But I hate my belly. It’s so…soft.” You tell him, finally willing to admit defeat. “And I pulled all these sweaters out of storage today – from my thinspiration pile – and they fit even worse than they did then when I first bought them.”

Your Bounty Hunter stares down at you for a moment, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Thinspiration?”

“Yeah.” You hiccup, appreciating when he offers you a sip of his scotch, even when it makes you cough. “It’s like when you buy a shirt or a dress – or in my case a bunch of sweaters – that are too small for you so you can use them as inspiration to…you know…finally drop the weight.”

“Oh, Jesus H. Fucking Christ.” He snarls under his breath before taking a deep pull of his drink. “That’s what all this was about?”

Sheepishly you nod, as if finally realizing just how ridiculous you sounded. But at the time all of it had made perfect sense. “I figured it might help keep me from eating…too much.”

“Sweetheart…” His deep voice rumbles low in his chest as he polishes off what’s left of his scotch. “Fuck those sweaters, fuck the jeans, and whatever the fuck else is in that stupid fucking thinspiration box, or bag, or whatever. I mean it.”

One of Ari’s big hands reaches out to take hold of your chin, making it damn near impossible to look away from him.

“You and me are gonna get rid of that box.”

“But, Beast –”

“No.” His grip tightens ever so slightly. “That’s not good for you, baby. It never was. And I don’t ever want to hear you disrespecting yourself like that again. I really don’t. Broke my fucking heart.” Ari leans in to brush his mouth over yours, his free hand taking every advantage to stroke and caress its way along your body. “And it really pissed me the fuck off.”

“I’m sorry.” You mumble as fresh tears spill over onto your cheeks. “I–I’ll try to work on it.”

“These curves of yours are a gift from God, you hear me?” He muses as kisses away a tear. “Or the Devil himself. Depends on who you’re asking I suppose. There’s nothing I love more than watching those hips sway in one of your pretty sundresses, or seeing that luscious ass bounce every time I spank it.”

“You do seem to have a hard time keeping your hands to yourself, Sir.” You respond playfully through a watery grin.

“Mmhm. The only thing better is when you’re busy holdin’ me hostage.” Ari flips your positions so that he’s on top of you know, effectively pinning you against the couch so that he can grind his denim-covered erection against your damp folds. “Keepin’ me trapped as your love slave while I work my ass off to satisfy that greedy pussy long until we both pass out”

“Hey…” You pout, shivering when he nips at your bottom lip. He tugs it into his mouth, sucking hard before releasing it with a soft pop. “I thought you liked the job.” You press your hands against either side of his bearded face, pulling him down for a proper kiss.

“Oh, I love the job. Gorgeous girl. Great pay, benefits.” He nuzzles a path of hot, wet kisses along the column of your throat, loving how it makes you giggle. “All the pussy I can eat.”

“Wow.” You breathe, torn somewhere between lust and humor.

“But in all seriousness, Bird, the only thing I ever want is to see you happy. Keeping that box, holding on to whatever the fuck that was supposed be…” You press a finger to his lips, pausing him mid-sentence.

“I don’t want to just throw them away. I mean, they’ve still got the tags on them and everything. But there is a women’s shelter in the next county. Do you think maybe we could..?”

Ari nods once, giving you a warm smile as he does. Knowing that you’d managed to please him has a fresh wave of slickness coating your already slippery thighs.

“As long as you agree to let me keep you naked and stuffed full of my cock for the rest of the weekend, we can do whatever the fuck you want.” He hitches one of your legs over his shoulder, dragging his tongue along the soft skin of your calf. “And since you seemed to listen so well, I suggest you lay back and relax, because, baby…”

“We both just earned ourselves a treat.”

END

Unofficial Tag List

@katymae12344

@daykrisr99

@identity2212

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@blackhawkfanatic

@jamneuromain

@daykrisr99

@queerqueenlynn

@pono-pura-vida

823 notes · View notes

bicheetopuff · 7 days ago

Note

Shounen was written for young boys to help them to get stronger and find a purpose in life, thats why most shounen series end up in marriage and having kids. Japan's birth rates are dropping each year and you guys want to see Deku and Bakugou end up together instead of Deku and Ochaco getting married and having kids? The stories and media we consume has to match the standards of real life you know.

Wow… this is a lot to unpack. A normal person would just ignore this, but lucky for you, I’m a bitch when I wanna be, and I happen to have time on my hands right now.

1) “Shonen was written for young boys to help them to get stronger and find a purpose in life”

Shonen is literally just a genre that directly translates to “young men.” But I think you’re trying to define the meaning of story telling as a whole, and even still, that’s a very narrow way to view an entire genre.

Stories meant for young men, most of the time, are meant for entertainment. You have anime’s like Dragon Ball and Naruto that’s almost nothing but action scene after action scene with very little thought provoking plot, because at the time, they were written for young boys. Like, they were aired on children’s channels back in the day, young boys. And while I won’t deny that there are definitely some good lessons in both (I can’t speak much because I never finished Naruto and only got about 20 episodes into dbz) they’re not meant to make a boy “stronger.” Lessons in early shonen were meant to broaden world views and increase emotional intelligence in a way that’s easy to understand. I guess it depends on your definition of what strength is, but I feel like strength is built from personal experiences, not watching an anime.

That being said though, the shonen/young boys genre has evolved over the years in the east and the west. Jujutsu Kaisen, Chainsaw Man, and Attack on Titan, are all shonens, with aot being also classified as a seinen. Those are most definitely not meant for the same age group that Dragon Ball and Naruto and One Piece were written for, given the amount of gore and heavier themes presented. Now, that’s not me looking down upon those stories at all, that’s me pointing out the obvious difference in tone, despite them being classified as the same.

As the genre evolved, authors approaches have also evolved. Literally read any interview from any modern shonen author and you’ll see how unserious they are when it comes to their own stories. Gege didn’t even like writing his story past a certain point and was just trying to push through it, because it wasn’t the story he originally wanted to write. Horikoshi has always said he just wanted to tell a story with no real goal towards the audience. Chainsaw Man is literally about a guy wanting to touch some boobs??? What about any of that screams, “I’m writing this to raise the new generation of young boys into strong husbands and fathers who know their purpose in life!”

Shonen as a whole has grown into a genre meant for young adults, with heavier themes and becoming increasingly more political. It’s not the same genre it used to be, and trying to say that it is, isn’t fair and is lowkey insulting towards authors with a more progressive world view.

2) “Japan’s birth rates are dropping each year and you guys want to see Deku and Bakugou get together instead of Deku and Ochaco getting married and having kids?”

Yeah… you’re right. I’d rather see a well written relationship come to fruition than watch another male author completely disrespect their female lead and ripping away her development. Why the fuck would I, an infertile acespec queer person, give a fuck about using two fictional characters to inspire young people to get married and start a nuclear family…

Also the birth rates are dropping all over the world, don’t pretend it’s only a Japanese issue. In Asia specifically, the birth rate is going down because women are tired of men’s shit and refuse to bare their children, and I’m actually happy as fuck that other parts of the world are following in their footsteps.

Women have been treated like shit in every corner of the world for so fucking long, and we all just dealt with it because that’s what we all thought we were supposed to do. It’s about fucking time we actually put our foots down and protest in the ways that we can, which is practicing our rights to autonomy. Why tf should we be responsible to bear the children of men most of us barely even like? And why is having children a mans responsibility, when women are the ones who have to carry the babies? Besides, why the fuck would anyone want to bring a kid into the shit show that is the world right now?

We’re over populated, have a really fucked up consumption and capitalism problem which causes us to depend on disgustingly unethical ways to find resources to appease everyone, there’s fucking flowers blooming in the arctics, there’s several genocides happening in the world as a result of neglectful and corrupt governments, a literal ethnic cleansing happening, and a carton of eggs costs 12 fucking dollars while the minimum wage stays at only $7.25 and the cost of living isn’t affordable unless you’re making nearly triple the minimum wage. I don’t even wanna be subjected to this shit and I’ll be damned before I subject a child to it against their will. Most of us can’t even afford to take care of ourselves without our parents help right now.

Also, what does a gay pairing have to do with the birth rate at all? Is Deku gonna carry that baby? Or are you seriously just narrowing down Ochaco to nothing more than his incubator? If Ochaco decides to have kids one day, why should it have to be with Deku? Oh and I hate to break it to you, but Ochaco becoming a mother isn’t going to solve any of the issues you presented.

3) “The stories and media we consume has to match the standards of real life you know”

…you’re talking about a story where one of the background characters has a god damn spray bottle for a head…

It’s fiction. Superhero media, at that. None of it has to follow the “rules” of real life, and most of the time, this kind of media does the exact opposite of following societal norms. And you thinking otherwise probably made Stan Lee roll in his grave.

Also, what’re your standards for real life? Because everyone’s standards are different. If yours is to get married and live in a traditional household with five kids and one source of income in this economy, then I think you’re the one being unrealistic here.

We shouldn’t burden children with adult responsibilities. Having kids and being a “good husband” isn’t something a child should have to think about until they’re older and only if they want to. Believe it or not, not everyone’s goal is to get married and produce offspring. We should be encouraging children to do the things they like doing without having to worry about adult shit yet. Not indoctrinating them into believing that the only way for them to be a successful adult, is if they have kids.

Using shonen and other conformative media that is dead set on maintaining the status quo to brainwash kids into wanting to be parents before they even know how babies are made, is weird. Don’t be weird, anon. You sound like one of those “alpha males” with a red pill podcast, convincing young men that crypto scams are a perfectly ethical way to make quick cash.

Literally just say you’re a misogynist, and move on. And get tf out of my inbox.

P.S.

You know gay men exist in real life, right? You’re talking as if gay men aren’t real. Not only are they real, but they also have nothing to do with the birth rate dropping. Find something else to be mad about.

#anon hate #bakudeku #bkdk #it’s funny cuz I barely even talked about them #even tho anon was hating on them #everything else astounded me too much #midoriya izuku #bnha #bakugou katsuki #puff speaks #ask puff #puff answers #ochaco uraraka #uraraka ochako #you’re giving me Logan Paul vibes pls get away from me #not every story has to end with a guy winning a girl at the end #and I’m getting tired of repeating myself #ew I can’t believe I gave you the satisfaction of genuinely pissing me off

112 notes · View notes

loveharlow · 4 months ago

Text

SEVEN [SEASON 2] - 005 (PART 2)

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [8.5k] A newfound diary, an emotional blast from the past, and a chaotic bonfire.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, fist fight/mild violence, jarah drama, sexual innuendoes,

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

for the house scene^

for the bonfire scene^

A/N‧₊˚ i'm sooo hyped, ik this song strays from the theme a bit but i really wanted a sexy lil tune for the bonfire scene AND this chapter has TWO SONGS because it's two diff vibes at once

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“JJ, GET UP.” You groaned for the last time, shoving your sock-clad feet into your shoes, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

“Mmmm…I am up.” He whined into the pillow, very much still sleep. You scoffed, walking over and snatching the blanket off of the blonde — a wave of cool air hitting his shirtless body. He whined, flipping over onto his back as his eyes blinked open. “Why would you do that?”

“Because, for one, it’s eight fifty-five. School starts at nine and we have a fifteen minute drive to get there. And, two, John B and Pope already left without us because they didn’t want to wait for you which means I am now responsible for driving you, which makes us both late.” You explained, tossing the boy one of his shirts and a pair of socks.

“Mmph…fine.” He grumbled, sitting up and slipping the item over his head as he yawned. You kicked his shoes towards him as he slipped on his socks, walking out of the bedroom to find Marley on the couch. The dog perked up as her two favorite people exited the guest room.

“Hi, girl.” You cooed, crouching down as the animal threw herself off the couch and into your arms. “How you feelin’?” You asked, scratching behind her ears before looking up to find Kie in the kitchen, lingering silently. She paced, fiddling with her fingers while struggling to hesitantly meet your eyes.

“Hey.” She said simply, eyes on you and JJ. You both sent the girl half-smiles, lips pulled into thin, tight lines. “I thought everyone had left, I didn't know you two were...I, um, I fed her so, you shouldn’t have to worry about that.” She told you, shoving her hands in her back pockets nervously. “How are you? Or is that a…bad question to ask?”

You just shrugged one shoulder, swallowing awkwardly. “A lot better. Thanks for asking…” You replied genuinely. The room was filled with such a strong tension. By this point, everyone knew about the kiss between JJ and Kie. And everyone knew that everyone knew. The three of you stood around avoiding each other’s gazes, the only sound being the birds outside and Marley’s heavy panting. It didn’t feel right to be so hostile with Kie after everything that happened yesterday. And plus, you guessed you never got her side of everything. But even if the tension was no longer volatile, it was still awkward and suffocating.

“Well, we should get goin’...” JJ piped up.

“Yeah, yeah, totally.” Kiara waved off, tucking her hair behind her ear and grabbing her tote bag from the dining chair. “I’ll...see you guys later.”

“You aren’t going to school?” You asked, Kiara stopping with her hand on the door.

“No, I have some stuff to do. But I’ll catch up later.” She said, holding her hand up as a goodbye. “See ya.”

You both watched as she left — hearing her sneakers crunch oddly fast through the gravel before the sound faded out. You looked to JJ as his voice rang out. “Is it my place to say that you two need to talk it out?”

You grimaced before walking forward, out of the front door and towards your parked car as JJ followed. “I don’t know…” You dragged on, opening the driver’s side door as JJ got into the passenger seat. “It’s weird now. We’re together and she likes you…”

“Eh, I don’t think so.” JJ shrugged as you started the car, shooting him a confused look as you pulled out.

“What do you mean?” You asked. “She kissed you.”

“I mean, yeah, but it was like she didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to say anything last night because it didn’t feel right to bring it up.” He said, looking at you as you drove, admiring the way the morning sun illuminated your eyelashes. “She came to me last night in the Surf Shack and apologized, said she had her feelings mixed up. I guess she meant between me and Pope, maybe? I don’t know. But she made it clear that she doesn’t like me like that, at the very least. But apparently, she also broke things off with Pope so, I’m confused on what she meant. Either way, maybe you’re the person she needs to talk to.” He suggested cooly. “Just sayin’.”

“Hm.” You hummed in thought, eyes trained on the road as your eyebrows pinched. Maybe JJ had a point. But when Kie was ready to talk, she would.

YOU AND JJ ENTERED THE CLASSROOM JUST AS THE LATE BELL RANG, the teacher shooting you both a look of warning and motioning for you to take your seats. JJ sat in front of John B and you sat behind Pope — the four of you forming a perfect square. JJ shot the two boys looks of annoyance, the both of them holding up their hands in surrender.

You watched as Mrs.Ortiz, the geometry teacher, began passing out papers. Kids around you sighed and groaned, causing you and JJ to share a confused look. It wasn’t long before the teacher made her way to you all, setting a paper on John B’s desk. “Nice of you to join us.” She smiled sweetly at him.

“Good to be back.” He smiled back at her, the expression quickly fading when he read the paper in front of him. His eyes went wide just as the woman placed a paper on your own desk — two pieces of paper stapled together, the first page of equations already giving you a migraine.

“A test?” John B asked Pope, appalled. The boy turned in his seat, pointing an accusatory finger at John B.

“I told you we had a test.” He reprimanded under his breath.

“No, you didn’t.”

“The first thing I said to you-”

“Was to wake up.”

“Because we had a test.”

“A test was never mentioned-”

“Psst. John B.” A random girl interrupted. John B turned to her curiously, quirking a brow as she passed him a piece of paper, the three of you looking weirdly at one another as he unfolded the note.

Bonfire C U There?

John B eyed the note with an unreadable expression, the three of you turning away from him slowly once Mrs.Ortiz began talking. “You all will have until the end of this period to turn in the quiz. No phones, no notes, and no calculators. Once you are done, you may-” She was cut off when the landline on her desk rang. “Excuse me a moment.” She dismissed herself, picking up the phone before exchanging a few words and hanging up, peering over the classroom full of students before her eyes landed on you. “Ms.Carter.” She called, your eyebrows raising in question.

“Yes?”

“They need you in the main office.” She said, looking sad and pitiful. She looked sorry for you. You didn’t know why.

Your face twisted in confusion as you looked at your three friends and got up, not even taking a full step forward before she spoke again. “You may want to take your things with you.” She grimaced, clasping her hands together. “And no need to worry about the quiz. I’ll exempt you for today.”

Her mercy had you questioning what exactly they needed you in the main office for…

Scooping up your backpack, you shot JJ a look before walking out of the classroom.

WALKING INTO THE MAIN OFFICE, you spotted a familiar face.

“Shoupe?” You asked, face twisting as the man turned to you — a nervous look plastered on his face as his hands clutched his utility belt. There was no one else in the office aside from the secretary and a teacher or two printing papers — the sounds of typing and phones ringing filling the atmosphere.

“What’s going on?” You asked the officer, eyes darting around the room as you hiked your bag up higher on your shoulder, subconsciously holding it tighter against you. The older man took in his surroundings, taking note of the peering eyes of the secretary. He motioned towards the door you had just walked through before speaking.

“Let’s talk outside…”

You unknowingly clenched your jaw, nodding and following the man out the door. He waited for it to close, looking up and down the empty school halls before speaking. “I don’t mean to pop up on you like this. I’m just…tryna make this whole thing a little easier on ya.” He claimed, licking his lips before continuing. “I don’t know if you or your friends watch the news but…we have your mom in custody.”

You nodded, drawing your lips into a thin line but allowing the man to continue talking. “She had her bail hearin’ this mornin’. Since she attempted to flee from police upon arrest, the judge didn't grant her bail so, she won’t be out any time soon. Just wanted to let you know that.” He explained, his eyes full of pity and regret. "...She's been askin' to see you."

You couldn't control your facial contorting out of disgust. Or anger, you didn't know. "No." You said bluntly and firmly. "I don't want to see her."

Shoupe just nodded, raising his eyebrows briefly. "Yeah...I figured as much." He informed. "No one's forcin' you, kid. Just relayin' the message." He said. “...Also, the department will be closing off your house as a crime scene early tomorrow mornin’. I’m not supposed to be doing this but…if ya have anythin’ that you’d like to take with you — clothes, jewelry — I’d suggest you gon’ and get it today before it ends up in an evidence locker.”

“...Thank you, Shoupe.” You expressed your gratitude, surprised at his change of heart. Maybe he felt bad for everything — knowing now just how much could've been avoided had he just listened to you and your friends to begin with.

“...’s the least I could do.” He mumbled, looking down at his shoes for a brief moment. “But there is one more thing, kid.”

“What is it?” You asked, a moment of silence passing as a janitor walked by whistling with his earbuds in — the pair of you allowing him to pass anyway before continuing the conversation.

“...Since you are still a minor and have no current legal guardian that's not...imprisoned or deceased, you are now considered a Ward of the State. And unless you find someone to claim legal guardianship over you, there’s nothin’ I can do to stop DCS from payin’ you a visit.”

“Oh.” You said simply, lips stuck in a pursed position. You didn't think about that part...

“Yeah…” The man sighed.

“...Should I warn John B, too? Since Ward was his legal guardian?”

“No, no, that’s not necessary.” Shoupe dismissed, waving you off. “With Ward’s…passing, guardianship had been transferred to Rose as she was Ward’s spouse. But we both know that Routledge has been on his own for a long time.”

“So…what should I do?” You asked.

“That’s up to you, kid.” Shoupe shrugged helplessly. “Just find someone to take ya in. And soon.”

“HEY! WAIT UP!” YOU CALLED OUT AS YOU SPOTTED YOUR THREE MALE FRIENDS OUTSIDE IN THE COURTYARD. First period had ended by the time you’d gotten done talking with Shoupe, kids gathered outside before the bell rang for second.

You caught up to your friends in seconds, Pope and JJ separating to make space for you to walk with them.

“Glad to see you’re back.” John B threw out. “What’d you do? Steal test answers?”

“You’re hilarious but I don’t cheat.” You sassed, squinting at him. “I can do a simple math problem, I know that’s a foreign thing to you-”

“I was just askin’ because us three who didn’t receive a ‘get out of geometry free pass’ were kind of dying in there.”

“Speak for yourself.” Pope threw out, smiling smugly. “Finished that quiz in ten minutes. That’s gotta be a world record.”

“Yeah,” JJ added sarcastically. “For geeks, maybe.”

Popee flipped off the blonde as you and John B laughed, walking up the concrete steps. “But seriously, what’d they need you for?” JJ asked, looking down at you and throwing an arm over your shoulder.

You didn't miss the way John B and Pope shot each other smirks and low high-fived.

You sighed but smiled smally at the contact and slight PDA. “Long story short — my mom was denied bail so she's in jail for good, they’re taping my house off as a crime scene tomorrow and I have until tonight to get my stuff, and I am now a state-certified orphan and will be snatched up by DCS soon unless someone comes to claim me.”

“Sounds like someone needs a Routledge-level crash course in ‘Dodging DCS 101’.” John B smiled, holding the straps of his backpack.

“Or I just need someone to sign some papers and say they’re willing to take care of me.” Suddenly, all eyes glued themselves to Pope, the boy immediately shaking his head.

“Nuh-uh.” He declined. “You know I would if I could and my parents would love to help you. But that’s a lot of paperwork and they need other things, like proof of income showing that they can support another child. And Heyward’s has been a little slow since the whole boat thing with Topper…”

You all hummed in agreement, understanding his point. “Don’t sweat it, Pope.” You assured, nudging his shoulder. “I’ll figure it out. Hey," You switched your attention to JJ, voice lowering as the other two guys now held their own conversation. "I'm probably gonna leave school a bit early to go my house. Just so I have enough time."

"You want me to come with?" The blonde asked.

"If you don't mind..." You said, nervously — not wanting to be a burden. "You don't have to. I just don't think going alone-"

"I want to." He reassured, pecking your cheek.

“Ahh....” A chipper voice chimed in, the four of you facing forward to find Mr.Sunn standing against the school exit door that was wide open. “Mr.Routledge, Mr.Maybank, Mr.Heyward, and Ms.Carter — just the students I wanted to see.” He smiled, guiding you each one by one into the school building.

“Wish I could say the same.” JJ replied as Mr.Sunn walked in behind you four — guiding you to his classroom and ignoring your boyfriend’s sassiness.

“I have a question of historical nature for you…” The teacher explained, walking into a storage closet within his classroom. “I digitize documents for the Maritime Museum, and in return, I have been given access to the archives.” He went on, searching up and down the shelves before pulling out a box. “And I found…this.”

“A box.” Pope deadpanned.

“More than a box.” Mr.Sunn smiled, placing the container down on his desk, the four of you crowding around as he opened it, revealing what looked like a worn, brown journal wrapped in plastic. “Go ahead, Mr. Heyward.” The instructor encouraged as Pope picked up the item. “Careful with that.”

You all watched as Pope unwrapped the item from its packaging, fiddling with the fabric knot that held the book closed.

“It’s a diary.” Mr. Sunn explained. “The author’s unknown.” You all watched as Pope undid the knot, pages and pages of writing revealing themselves. It was written in cursive, some pages partially or completely torn out. But you felt the tension in the room rise when Pope let the pages fall to the very first one — a wheat symbol sketched onto it.

The four of you shot each other looks as Mr.Sunn placed a paper on the desk. “This…is a sample of the Denmark Tanny letter.” He smirked, looking up at the group of you. “Compare the handwriting.” John B was quick to pick up the paper, holding it up next to Pope’s hand that held the diary open.

Peering over the two boys shoulders, you could see the two artifacts side by side — the handwriting was distinct. But the similarity was undeniable. It was obvious that the two documents were written by the same person, down to the curves and flicks of the pen.

“No way…”

“It’s nearly identical.”

“...This is Denmark Tanny’s diary.” Pope said in a hushed tone, eyes never leaving the papers. His fingers trailed the worn pages of the journal, flipping the page to find a drawing — a captain standing by as the figures in the background pushed ships into the water, a larger ship looming in the back. “Guys, this is Captain Limbrey.” Pope pointed out, tip of his index finger on the man with the hat atop his head, standing proudly. “...August sixth, eighteen twenty-nine.” He read aloud, sitting down on the nearest desk top.

“That’s the year the Royal Merchant went down.” John B informed, eyebrows downturned in pity.

“I thought you all might find it interesting.” The teacher spoke up.

“Thank you so much for this.” Pope whispered, still looking through the journal.

Mr.Sunn sat on the desk beside your friend, leaning in to speak. “It’s important to know your own history.” He told him, you all looking at him with wide eyes before he got up and walked to the back of the classroom once more, leaving the four of you to your thoughts.

“...Oh my God.” Pope sighed, his eyebrows pinching together. “This is the Cross of Santo Domingo.” He said, the three of you sharing a look and walking over, crowding around behind him. It was a picture of some of the crew members carrying a large cross. “It was on The Royal Merchant.”

THE ENGINE OF YOUR FORD BRONCO DIED AS YOU TURNED THE VEHICLE OFF, looking up at the house you hadn't seen in over a month. To anyone else, it probably looked like a nice, normal home.

To you it looked haunted, forever shrouded in a cloud of darkness and gloom that would never go away.

"You want me to come in?" JJ asked, you only just now noticing him looking at you. You lowered your gaze to him, nodding as a response. He gave you a small smile before exiting the passenger seat and rounding the vehicle as you unbuckled your seatbelt to open your door and offer you a hand out of the car.

He shut your door after you climbed out, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze as you walked the path up to the front door. To your surprise, it was already cracked ajar, only having to give the wood a push for it to creak open.

The lights were off, the only light coming from the open windows. The wood screeched beneath you and JJ's feet as you walked further inside, the blonde allowing your hand to slip slowly from his own as your eyes scanned everything.

You spotted a suitcase at the bottom of the steps — laid out in the floor, flipped open. Clothes, shoes, and stray dollar bills scattered around the abandoned trunk.

Was that what Shoupe meant when he said she attempted to run?

It looked like the caught her before she even made it out of the front door...

It was as if the place had been raided. The coffee table in the living room was lopsided and off center, the couch cushions looked like they'd been thrown back into place.

The patio door was open, and the kitchen told a different story —alcohol bottles scattered on the counter like centerpieces. The smell of liquor even lingered mildly in the air.

You didn't say a word as you edged towards the staircase, stepping over the fallen luggage and making your way up the stairs. Photo frames decorating the companionway upon the walls swung, hanging from a single screw.

You'd seen how many officers came the day Ward died. Just how many ran through your house? Or what remained of it...

Reaching the top of the stairs, even more clothes littered the floor. There was even a sizeable hole in the wall...

You took a deep breath, shaking off your nerves before walking further down the hall and pushing open the door to your room.

Surprisingly, it looked untouched —almost exactly how you remember leaving it.

Your bed was unmade, the blinds were open, even your midsummer's dress was still hung on the back of your closet door. Remembering that night put a smile on your face.

Everything was messed up...but not this messed up. John B didn't know that his girlfriend's dad had killed his and yours. Pope didn't have any personal connection to the gold that made him a target. Kiara was still living with her parents and you were still friends. You and JJ had just gotten out of jail and seen each other for the first time all day.

Looking back, maybe your friends were right. How could you not see it all this time? Remembering the way he froze seeing you in your dress, you paid no mind to it then. But now, it was like reliving the moment in your mind. He looked in awe. He looked in love. He looked like he had never seen you a day in his life. And when he smiled at you...

You would never forget that night.

Walking over to the item, your fingers brushed against the smooth material — a small, sad smile spreading across your cheeks.

"You should take it." JJ startled you, turning around to see him in the doorframe. You hadn't heard him come up the stairs.

"I don't have any use for it, now." You said mournfully. "It's not like I'll be going to another one..." You reflected, opening your closet all the way and grabbing the biggest duffel bag you owned, pulling tops and jackets off the hangers and throwing them in.

In your peripheral, you could see your boyfriend remove the dress from it's hanger — folding it and placing it in the duffel bag. "That may be true but you'll need a dress for all the five-star restaurants we visit when we go full Kook." He joked lightly, winking at you, the action putting a loving smile on your face. "Here, let me help." He offered, stepping next to you and grabbing your bottoms and shoes, putting them in the duffel bag as well.

To your surprise, the bag fit almost everything you planned on taking. You'd probably need another backpack but the closet was almost entirely empty when you spotted a box in the corner. You scrunched your eyebrows, crouching and reaching for the cardboard box in the corner, dragging it out.

There was something written in sharpie on the side — Dad's Stuff.

Your hand hovered over the box, forgetting you had it back there all this time. You didn't even remember what was inside. Looking up at JJ who was already staring down at you, the blonde gave you a silent supportive nod, encouraging you to open it.

Turning back, you carefully opened the top flaps — your eyes immediately spotting your dad's tattered and worn 'OBX' hoodie that you'd taken from his closet after he died. You wore it for weeks after his death — so much so that your perfume still lingered on it, mixed in with fading smell of his cologne that you somehow still remembered the distinct smell of.

You carefully lifted the item of clothing, brushing your thumbs against the rough fabric. The letters were fading and there were small lint-beads around the sleeves but that didn't diminish it's value. You handed the object to JJ, silently asking him to put it in the bag. The boy understood quickly, taking the hoodie from your hands as you fished around deeper in the box.

There wasn't much. What took up the most space was the hoodie considering it's thickness. All that remained was a scrapbook and an old family camera.

You picked up the book first — it was a father's day gift that you'd made him some years ago. 'To The BEST Dad in The World' scribbled in your third grade handwriting on the front. The book was thin, made from construction paper and glitter.

Flipping it open, it was filled with pictures of you and your dad — on several of your birthday's, pictures of you both blowing out the candles because you refused to do it without him. One of his guitar picks was glued to a page, surrounded by a heart of glitter with a small sentence at the bottom — 'I stole this from you because it's my favorite and I don't want to lose it.'

You let the pads of your fingers trace the pages, eyes scanning over the small art project once more before closing it and setting it to the side with one hand, using the other to pick up the camera.

You fiddled with the object in your palms, eyes widening when, to your surprise, it came on as you held the power button. You vividly remembering your dad taking the camera almost everywhere you went — on family picnics, small road trips, birthday parties. He didn't use it as much when you got older.

You pressed the playback button, the last video he ever recorded popping up with the play button. You didn't hesitate, pressing play on the video as the terrible audio quality filled the silence of your room.

"Well, it's doomsday, people. Y/N has her very first pimple." His voice made your heart skip a beat. You hadn't realized until now that you hadn't heard it almost year.

"Dad, stop!" A fourteen-year old you whined, palming the lens of the camera. "It's ugly and huge..."

"You should let your old man pop it-"

"Ew, gross! No way..." You chuckled. Your voice was so much higher, you didn't even recognize it. "And please, stop recording. This is not funny."

"Okay, okay…" he said, turning the camera around to face himself. "Well, bossy pants says no more recording, so we're cutting it short today." He faked a frown before smiling mischievously and turning the camera back around to you for a quick second. You were hunched over the sink looking in the mirror when you saw the camera and ducked out of the way.

"Dad!" You whined. "Seriously!"

"Okay! Okay..." He laughed, the video ending abruptly. You immediately pressed the back arrow, skimming through photo after photo before coming across another video — a much older one.

"Alright, I think it's on. So, to whoever is watching this, my baby girl just learned her first guitar chord and beat her own record, all in one day. Tell them how deep you dove today, sweetheart." He prompted, spinning the camera to what looked like a ten-year old you sitting on your front porch — hair still slightly damp and wild.

"Thirty feet!" You cheered, voice even higher in this recording. You had his guitar in your lap.

"That's right!" Your father applauded from behind the camera, walking around to stand in front of you and get a good view. "She's a little natural. But now we're on to our lessons before she leaves me for her friends. Tell the people what chords you learned."

Your small frame was perched on the front steps, sun beaming on you. "E-minor, A-minor, and...uh...E."

"Good job!" He smiled, voice dropping to a whisper only the camera could hear. "She picked out the chords herself, I had no say." The statement made you laugh a bit, wiping away a stray tear as you continued to watch the video. "Whenever you're ready, sweetheart."

You watched as little you positioned the instrument under your arms and your fingers in between the frets before strumming. It was gappy and you hesitated in between switching chords but the video made you smile nonetheless.

Once you were done, you looked up at the camera with a smile. "How was that?"

"That was beautiful, angel." Your dad said softly behind the device, walking closer to you and turning it around so it now recorded the both of you. "This is me and my little pufferfish-slash-popstar and we're signing off. Wave goodbye, Y/N."

"Byeee!" You cheesed and waved wildly, your dad doing this same as the video cut — stuck on the last frame showcasing both of your bright smiles.

You stared at it, silently crying. You let your tears fall, sniffing periodically when you felt a hand ease it's way onto your back. Turning swiftly and dropping the camera into your duffel bag, you turned and pushed your face into JJ's chest, wrapping your arms around his torso tightly.

You could feel his body tense and his hands freeze — he didn't know what to say or how to properly comfort you. Or if was he meant to comfort you as a friend or a lover.

He pondered for a moment before returning the tight embrace, kissing the top of your head before laying his on top of your own. He swayed lightly with you in his arms, allowing you to cry quietly into his shirt.

"Why did all of this have to happen?" You mumbled into his shirt. "Why are our lives the ones that had to fall apart?"

The blonde didn't have an answer for you, so he just chose to hold you instead — comforting you until you were ready and didn't need the need the comfort anymore.

He wasn't sure if he was meant to comfort you as a friend or as a lover — so he settled on comforting you as a person.

And he held you as long as you needed until you were all cried out, the two of you taking your bags of clothes, the scrapbook, the camera, the hoodie, and most importantly — your dad's guitar out of the house you hoped to never see again.

“GUYS, THIS IS FROM DENMARK’S DIARY.” Pope said. You were back at The Chateau, feeling a lot better now, and he hadn’t put the book down since he got it. You were surprised he hadn’t finished it by now. You’d seen the boy finish larger books in a matter of hours. “...‘August fifteenth, set sail from Port-au-Prince on calm seas.’” He read aloud, the sun beaming behind him. “...’Came up on the Spanish ship San Jose on fire. The entire deck was aflame. We could hear the screams of men trapped below.’” You cringed at the words, not being able to imagine the agony.

“‘The Spanish Captain cared about only one thing, his valuable cargo — The Cross of Santo Domingo and countless bars of gold. Once the cargo was on board, went to help the crew, but Captain Limbrey ordered us to pull bayonets and not to let any of the Spanish crew on board.” He paused, eyes softening before continuing to read. “...’He robbed them and left them to die.’”

Pope concluded, closing the journal and letting it fall on the table before taking a seat in the empty chair next to John B.

“So, it didn’t go down off Bermuda.” JJ offered, fiddling with a lighter as he laid outstretched between your legs, his head against your thighs as you laid against the arm of the patio sofa.

“And it was a Limbrey stealing shit again.” Kiara added.

“This diary proves that both the gold and the cross of Santo Domingo were on the Royal Merchant.” Pope put together, leaning his arms on his thighs.

“Why didn’t we find the cross in the well, then?” JJ asked, his blonde hair getting blown into his face by the wind, you brushing it gently out of his vision as he continued explaining his thought process. “I mean, if Denmark was able to get this, like, bedazzled cross off of the Merchant to the shore, why didn’t he just hide it with the gold?”

“...Because it was too big.” John B realized.

“You’re right.” Pope nodded, eyeing his two friends and nodding as his brained pieced the puzzle together. “He had to hide it someplace else…”

“But where?” You thought aloud.

“...Right before he was hung, Denmark said he buried the treasure at the foot of the angel.” Pope said.

“Wait,” JJ paused. “I thought this was about the key?” He pondered. “What’s the connection here?”

Pope sighed, pulling the aforementioned key from his pocket — the one he found in his grandma’s parlor. “The path to the tomb begins in the island room…” He said, reading the secret message revealed by the key, trying to mentally search for clues.

“But what is the island room?” Kiara groaned, throwing her head back.

“Y’know what helps me figure shit out?” JJ threw out, tossing the lighter onto the outdoor table, eyes focused on Pope. “Smokin’ beers and drinkin’ weed.” He said proudly, your face twisting in confusion. “The ideas just start to pour out of me. If we just sit here and try to figure this out, we’re gonna get nowhere.” He said seriously, sitting up to look at his friends more directly. “But if we get creative and go to this bonfire tonight? Maybe we get somewhere.”

“I think you just want an excuse to go to a bonfire.” You added, a smug look on your face as he turned to look at you, his hair messed up from laying in your lap.

“Shh…” He quieted with a finger to your lips, your eyes fleeting between the digit and his eyes. “You just haven’t mastered the technique to greatness yet. This is a plan of master intelligence. Drunk minds lead to sober finds, baby.”

You scoffed, lightly brushing his fingers from your lips as Kie spoke.

“Well, I just got disowned by my parents…and I’m an official member of the I-have-nothing-to-lose club.” She smiled, throwing her hands out.

“Pope?” JJ turned to the boy, a question on his lips. You all could see the denial brewing in his eyes, JJ catching it before any words left Pope’s lips. “Look — think about how much you could think if you just gave your brain a rest.”

He seemed to sit on the thought, looking at each of you individually before caving in. “...Okay, fine.”

“That’s a yes, folks. We’re headed out!” JJ exclaimed, jumping up from his place as the other three did the same, heading towards the van. You were getting up on your own before the blonde’s hand went under your arms, lifting you into his embrace. Your arms wound around his neck as he carried you happily. “First couple bonfire, baby!” He smiled, looking into your eyes. “You gotta do keg stand with me.”

THE BONFIRE — AN OUTER BANKS TRADITION. It’s the same weekend every year. Everyone goes. Literally everyone. After finding a fortune, and losing it, a little fun around a fire couldn’t hurt, right?

The party was in full swing by the time you’d all arrived, the entire party recognizing your small group by the sight of The Twinkie. JJ helped you out of the van, your ears immediately attacked by the loud cheering, endless chatter, and raging music.

The only real light was the huge bonfire in the center of the party — the flames lit in a small pit of the abandoned skatepark that happened to be this years secret location. Kiara and Pope went off on their own almost as soon as they left the van — the two getting into a small dispute on the way over. Pope believed that if Kie listened to her parents instead of arguing, she could go back home. Kiara disagreed and told Pope that he sounded like her dad.

You, JJ, and John B were already grabbing beers from a cooler — the two boys swallowing theirs down within seconds. John B did his own complaining on the way over — not a single sentence spoken without the mention of Sarah Cameron.

“And she was like ‘that’s it’. She done with me.” He whined, even after downing a beer.

“I know, but dude? Her father blew up in front of her.” JJ reminded, clapping a hand on the boys shoulder.

“J’s right, John B.” You said, sipping your own beer as you looked around at the party goers. “ Just give her a minute-” You were cut off when a beer can clattered at all three of your feet, looking up to find the girl who’d passed John B that note in class with a lazy smile on her face.

“Hey, derelicts!” She shouted, giggling drunkenly.

“Hey!” JJ exclaimed, kicking the beer droplets from his shoes. “There she is…” He mumbled, side-eyeing JB. “That’s all you, my friend.” He said, throwing an arm over your shoulder and walking away from John B. “I’m outta here.” He said, throwing a peace sign over his shoulder.

The two of you walked away with bright smiles on your faces, laughing.

“Was I good wingman back there? One through ten...” JJ asked, a light smile on his face.

“Eh. I’ll give you an eight.” You shrugged lightheartedly.

“An eight?” He asked, his arm slipping from your shoulder to hold your hand as he turned to talk to you, face to face. “Where’d my other two points go?”

“You lost them because for one, that’s the same girl he made out with last year and never texted back because he said she was trashy and desperate. But neither of you remember that.” You reprimanded jokingly. “And two, I do feel kind of bad. Sarah’s probably somewhere crying and John B’s out here flirting with some girl…”

JJ groaned, stepping closer to you. “Trust me — Sarah is not moping around. I’ll bet you a million dollars that she’s with her knight in shining armor right now.”

“JJ, that’s not fair-”

“But it’s the truth. I know you two are sort of friends again but you can’t seriously tell me that you don’t think she ran to Topper.” You chewed the inside of you cheek, squinting your eyes.

“...I say have some faith in her.” You challenged, shifting your weight and crossing your arms, a mischievous smile on your face.

JJ chuckled, downing the remaining portion of his beer before taking your face in his hand gently, rubbing a thumb over your cheek as he looked down at you — the fire illuminating the side of your face beautifully. “You’re cute.” He cooed. “Twenty bucks says Sarah ran back to Topper and they’ll show up tonight.”

“And if I’m right?” You contested, cocking an eyebrow. “If they don't?” You asked, eyes on the blonde’s lips.

“Well, that’s up to you.” He said, fighting a smile as his eyes bored into yours. “What do you want?...” He asked, voice just above a whisper.

Your tongue traced the inside of your mouth as your eyes scanned his face. The two of you had been dating for less than twenty-four hours and the tension was already suffocating. And you were in public, for that matter. But for some reason, that fact didn’t affect you all that much.

“Yo, Maybank!” A deep, brassy voice rang out — JJ turning around as you peered over his shoulder to find one of the football players with his hands up. “Beer pong?” He offered, holding a ping pong ball between his fingers.

JJ turned back to you, a raised eyebrow. You just shrugged as the boy took your hand, walking you over. “Yeah, me and my girl are playin’!”

“AND THAT’S THREE TO ZEROOO!” JJ TAUNTED AS HIS PING PONG BALL LANDED IN THE OTHER TEAMS LAST CUP, beer sloshing as the round object hit the liquid. The people surrounding you cheered as the other team, the football player and his girlfriend, groaned and downed the cup of beer.

You’d been playing for at least half an hour, you and JJ consuming more beer than a dad of three on a football Sunday. JJ was no lightweight. You, on the other hand, have never been too good at controlling yourself after your third or fourth drink. There were different types of drunks — the loud one, the whiny one, the vomiter...

You were the touchy drunk. The flirtatious drunk. And the countless cups of beer were just starting to kick in — your body feeling warm and tingly as the night went on.

A chill traveled up the length of your spine when JJ pulled you into a celebratory hug, lifting you off your feet and planting a quick kiss on your lips. It was such an odd thing — all these feelings you had for him just seemed to amplify.

You did mean it when you said you saw him as a friend. Most of the time. Before you were together or expressed feeling for each other, you had moments here and there where you saw JJ from a not-so friendly perspective. You may have a had a little crush on him but who didn’t? He was hot.

So, yeah, maybe you’d stare a little longer than appropriate when he’d take his shirt off at the beach and maybe, just maybe, him calling you princess would make your heart beat a little faster and maybe that’s why you would tell him stop.

But now, you were his girlfriend. And he was your boyfriend. And even a day into dating, he had no problem showing it. His hands never hesitated when he wanted them on you and if your lips were there, trust and believe he’d kiss them. He’d take the time to help you out of and into the van and he seemed to love throwing his arm around your shoulder.

The little touches and looks ignited a new fire in you and with the liquor running through you, the small flame inside was more like a wildfire. Ever since everything that happened with Rafe, you hadn’t really felt comfortable when it came to intimacy. But something about JJ made it feel like you weren’t treading in such deep water without knowing how to swim. You felt safe.

“Alright, we’re done. Go find someone else to kick your ass.” JJ joked as he set you down, taking a few steps to give his friend a bro-hug, clapping each other on the shoulder. JJ held out his hand when he turned back to you. You eagerly put your hand in his, the two of you walking away and towards the center of the pit where people were sitting and dancing around the fire.

The blonde sat down and motioned for you to do the same, his hand never unlinking from yours until you were completely sat and comfortable. “...You done already?” You asked, watching as JJ perked up at the sound of your voice.

“What do you mean?” He asked, eyebrows cinching curiously.

“This is your, like, natural habitat.” You laughed, motioning to the party around you. “Normally, you go from shotgunning beers to the keg stand within fifteen minutes.”

He laughed lightly at your observation, his head dipping down for a moment. “Yeah, I guess…”

“Soooo?...” You questioned, a tipsy smile on your face.

“...I don’t know.” He sighed, looking at you. The bonfire illuminated his hair, making it look borderline golden. “I don’t wanna tire you out. I know you’re still recovering from...you know-”

“Pfft-” You cut him off. “Don’t worry about meee…” You groaned, shaking the boys shoulders. “I’m fine. I don’t even know what Barry gave me-”

“Yeah, I know.” JJ said seriously. “That’s the problem. I probably shouldn’t have even let you down that many beers…”

“JJ.” You deadpanned, a semi-drunken pout on your lips. “I’m fine.”

“...No one is really fine after something like that.” He said sadly, looking you in the eyes.

In truth, he was right. The events of yesterday had been playing in your mind since you woke up. Little flashes, here and there. It made it so hard to sleep — and you prayed you wouldn’t have a repeat of last summer all over again. You may not remember every single event but you couldn’t seem to forget how the entire ordeal made you feel. Helpless, disgusting…alone. But you figured, you got through it all once, right? What was one more time?

You didn’t want to bring down the mood and it was clear that’s where this was headed. So when your ears cued in on the song playing over the speakers, a bright smile planted itself on your face as you stood up, holding a hand out for JJ that he took without hesitation. But not without question.

“What’re you doin’?” He asked, a small chuckle leaving his lips.

“Dance with me.”

“Ah, I don’t think this is really a slow dancing song, princess.” He protested, a sheepish smile on his face. “And I don’t know how to do that, anyway.”

“Who said anything about slow dancing?” You asked as if he asked a ridiculous question. “We’re at a bonfire, not a debutante ball.” You joked.

“A what?”

“Oh my God.” You sighed with a smile. “Just dance with me, you loser.” You urged, spinning in his arms so that you were facing away from him and pressing yourself against him, putting both of his hands on your waist as you swayed against him.

“Oh-” JJ said, your quick movements catching him off guard before he seemed to find himself. “This kind of dancing.” He said — his fingers pressing into the exposed skin of your waist as he matched your movements. Your own hands trailed up his arms — one steady feeling up his bicep as the other traveled up to the nape of his neck.

Normally, you’d be a little nervous in a situation like this. But with the alcohol, the fact that most of the people around were too drunk to notice, and the consideration of the other ten couples that were nearly tongue-fucking one another scattered around the skate park — a little grinding was the least of anyone’s concerns.

You were surprised when you felt the skin of JJ’s lips brush against the skin of your neck, the hairs standing up at the contact. You could faintly hear him humming the lyrics of the song — the combination of his featherlight touch and the sound of his voice making one dangerous duo.

You didn’t realize you were subconsciously pushing yourself further into him until you felt the familiar feeling of something pressing into your backside, the same feeling you felt in Charleston. You were starting to take it as a compliment. And he didn't seem as apologetic this time around.

At the feeling of him pressed against you, you craned your neck to look at him when the boy wasted no time in encapsulating your lips with his — a sloppy, passionate kiss as you both swayed against each other. You swore you heard a wolf-whistle somewhere but you paid no mind, turning in JJ’s hold to wrap both arms around his neck as he pulled you even closer into him.

One of his hands started to trace your spine all the way down to your ass when shouting distracted you both.

“Relax!” You both broke your exchange, turning around to see Sarah, John B, Topper, and the girl you’d left John B with all in each other’s faces.

“Why don’t you just leave, Sarah?” The girl sassed, the entire party quieting down aside from the people egging on the altercation, flashlights coming on as people started to record. “You aren’t even together anymore-”

“Why are you still talking?!” Sarah exclaimed, hands in the girls face.

“Have a little respect. Her dad just died!” Topper jumped in, reprimanding the girl.

“Shut up, Kook!” She spat, chin up. “Back off!” She warned, pushing Topper back with one arm.

“What’s going on?” Pope asked from beside you and JJ — him and Kiara seeming to have made their way through the crowd.

“The confrontation of the century.” JJ laughed, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “You owe me twenty dollars, princess.” He whispered, planting a quick kiss on your cheek. You didn’t miss the way Pope’s eyes squinted, you turning to look at him. The curly-haired boy pointed back and forth between you and JJ, raising an eyebrow and crossing his fingers — a silent question.

You nodded, a sheepish smile on your face. Pope smiled and held out his fist, waiting for you to bump yours with his. You scoffed, giving him a fist bump. You couldn’t turn back to face the argument without meeting Kie’s eyes that no doubt saw the interaction between you and Pope. She looked sad. Disappointed, almost.

“She’s a real gem.” Sarah said sarcastically to John B.

“What am I to you, huh?” He challenged, stepping closer to Sarah as Topper and the girl argued in the background. “Am I just another one? Like him?” He questioned, motioning towards Topper.

“She just another groupie to add to your collection?” Sarah retorted, standing toe to toe with the boy.

“Sarah, it doesn’t matter-” Topper tried but he went ignored.

“Did I mean anything to you?!” Sarah’s voice rose, her fists balling at her sides as Topper tugged on her arms.

“You’re questioning me when you’re here with your ex?!” John B shouted back.

“Did you tell her?!”

“Are you serious?!”

“Hey, back off!” Topper stepped in eventually, eye to eye with John B. “You wanna start some shit right now?!”

“Do I wanna start some shit?...” John B asked menacingly, head held high.

“Come on, John B! Kick his ass!” Some random bystander yelled, phone in hand. The four of you looked at one another nervously.

“Should we…?” Kiara dragged out.

“Yeah.” Pope answered the half-asked question, the four of you wrestling your way through the mob of people to reach your friends. Too preoccupied with pushing your way through, you couldn’t see what was happening. But you could hear.

“They all know what happened last time!” That was Topper.

“Just get out! Go!” Sarah. Who was she talking to?

“I’ll beat your ass!” Topper. Again.

“Get out of here, Topper!” John B said.

“Hey!” A new voice. “She don’t want you anymore, bro!” Was that Kelce?

“Shut the hell up...” John B warned, pushing the boy out of his face. You were able to see this happen just as the four of you made it to the center where they stood.

“What’re you gonna do, John B?” He pressed. “Kill me like you killed Sheriff Peterkin? Huh?” Wrong move, Kelce. Wrong. Move. “Do something!-” And something was indeed done as John B doubled back to punch the boy in his jaw, sending him stumbling back into the crowd.

Topper took the opportunity to charge at JB, grabbing him up by his shirt and tossing him to the ground. This urged you and your friends to jump in, the crowd closing in.

“Hey!” The four of you yelled angrily, pushing people out of the way.

“Move!” You shouted, forcefully shoving bodies out of you way. “Get the f- move!” You broke through just in time to see the girl John B was chatting up push Sarah to the concrete, JB calling the blonde’s name. You shoved the girl away, seeing her tumble on her ass. “Move, bitch!”

“What’s your problem?!” Kiara shouted at the girl as well, emerging next to you after witnessing the assault herself. “You all right?” Kie asked Sarah as the girl pushed herself up.

“What the hell?!” The girl that pushed her screamed. “Whose side are you on?!”

“She’s our friend!” You retorted. “Guys!” You shouted, looking around for your three male friends — spotting them to your right. John B was being pinned down by Topper, Pope had bum rushed half a dozen people to get to him, and JJ had leaped over one of the short walls to help his friend.

Pope went straight for Kelce who was helping Topper jump JB — taking a few nasty hits to his torso before managing to subdue the boy.

JJ had his sights on Topper — snatching the boy off of his best friend and into a chokehold.

“JJ!” You shouted, you and Kie rushing over. “We have to leave!” You warned, not getting too close.

“It’s not worth it, guys, come on!” Kiara bellowed.

Pope was the first one to ground himself, pushing Kelce off of him and to the concrete before gathering JJ and John B. “C’mon, we’re done!” He rushed, pushing the two boys ahead of him.

“We good?” JJ asked John B, full of adrenaline. He was on a streak, huh?

“We’re good.” John B exasperated, adjusting his shirt.

The five of you walked away from the party, JJ grabbing your hand so he didn’t lose you in the crowd. Piling into the van, the five of you sped off watching the chaos continue through the vehicle windows.

“WELL, THAT WAS A LITTLE UNEXPECTED.” JJ pointed out the obvious, crushing an empty beer can in his hand and leaning against the van. You’d stopped at a convenience store, The Twinkie parked outside. You and JJ had gone inside to get drinks as John B sat inside, legs outstretched in front of him with a cold beer pressed to his head, Kiara and Pope sitting up front with Kie in the driver’s seat.

“Was it?” She protested, pulling her face together.

“Couldn’t just have one night without some shit going on.” Pope sighed angrily, throwing his head back.

“Hey, maybe she’ll come around.” JJ tried the optimistic approach, eyes on John B who looked like he couldn’t be more over it if he tried.

“...It’s like everything that happened to us didn’t matter.” John B said sadly, looking at his shoes. “And maybe it doesn’t.”

“I’VE HAD MORE BLACK EYES IN THE LAST MONTH THAN I’VE EVER HAD IN MY ENTIRE LIFE.” Pope said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. It wasn’t as gloomy as it was in the van on the way back, but the gray cloud was still there.

You were all back at The Chateau now, crowded around your own bonfire. You and JJ sat on one bench, Marley curled up at your feet while John B and Kie sat on another, Pope having a lawn chair all to himself as him, you, and JB roasted marshmallows.

“That was building up for years.” JJ said, taking a bite out of his fresh hot pocket as you laid your head on his shoulder, roasting your marshmallow. “Rumble in the jungle.” He joked through a mouth full of food.

“Hey,” John B spoke up, eyes running between you and Kie. “Did you guys really stick up for Sarah?”

You simply shrugged. “Yeah, look like she needed it.” You said bluntly, not in a mean way. Just matter of factly. “Pogues and Kooks fight different. Sarah isn’t the fighting type, not the pogue fighting type anyway.”

“Of course I did.” Kie replied after. “She’s not a real Kook.”

“Yeah, tell that to Topper.” Pope threw out. It went silent for a few moments, the only sounds being the crickets and the crackling of the fire. And the chickens in the coop. They were oddly active tonight.

At the sound of their incessant clucking, John B’s eyes furrowed — turning around and staring off into the distance. You paid no mind to it as JJ plucked your freshly roasted marshmallow of the stick and ate it just as you’d brought it to your lips.

“Ah- hey!” You removed your head from his shoulder, pushing him playfully.

“Sorry, got a little hungry.”

“You have an entire hot pocket in your hand.”

“Yeah, but-” He was cut off when you dipped your head down taking a huge bite out of his hot pocket — the steaming food causing you to breathe wildly while chewing. “That’s what your ass gets.” He laughed, his amusement dying when Marley took the opportunity to snatch the remaining portion of the item from his hand, gulping in down in few bites. “What the hell?!”

Your own laughter erupted, almost causing you to choke on the bite of food – JJ patting your back to help out when John B shushed you. The four of you looked at him.

“What?” Pope asked.

“...Someone’s here.” He said, standing up from his seat and taking slow steps towards the chicken coop.

“You don’t think Topper would…?” Kiara threw out the possibility.

“I wouldn’t put it past him.” JJ said, trying to find whatever it was John B was looking at. The four of you stood up, trailing behind John B.

“Hey, who’s out there?!” John B called, the five of you creeping around the bushes and trees.

“You Kooks better not try anything!” Kie warned aloud.

Suddenly, a figure emerged. “How y’all doing?” You couldn’t help but loudly smack your teeth and roll your eyes — it was no one other than the creepy guy that ran with Limbrey.

“Not this motherfucker…” You sighed. "Don't you have a job?"

“You gotta be kidding me.” JJ complained beside you.

“Lovely evenin’ we’re havin’.” He smiled, walking towards you all and out of the woods with his hands up in surrender.

“Lovely evening we were having.” You corrected, a grimace on your face. “Go away.” You dead panned. “Creeping in the woods and peeping on minors is odd. And a felony-”

“You know, out of all of you, I think I like you the least.” He said.

“Is this where I’m supposed to fall to my knees in tears?” You sassed. “For someone dressed like a low budget G.I. Joe, I don’t think you should be too worried about me.”

“Look, I didn't come here to fuss ‘n fight.” He said. “I don’t hold a grudge with any of y’all, all right?” He reassured, slapping his hands against his thighs. “But this can go hard,” He said, patting himself down and holding his jacket open as he spun around to show that he was unarmed. “Or this can go easy.” He said plainly, throwing his arms out.

He was in front of you all now, surveying you each one by one. “You know what I’m here for.” He smiled. “Lemme give you a little demonstration, you see that swing?” He asked, pointing to the tire swing in hanging from the large tree in the backyard. “I got the best bow hunters in the Army Rangers with me.”

“Yeah?” JJ challenged.

“Mhm.” The man hummed, whistling two times before an arrow went whizzing through the air, embedding itself into the oak of the Magnolia Tree. The object startled some of your friends, you and JJ’s eyes glued to the man as he walked circles around you five. “They’ll stick you just as soon as I say so.” He threatened, stepping into Pope’s space.

JJ walked up behind him when an arrow flew right beside your ear, landing right at the blonde’s feet. You’d forgotten all about Marley until you heard her growl from beside you, looking down to see her eyes glued to the man as she bared her teeth.

You’d never heard her growl so lowly before. And maybe it was time to start teaching her some new tricks if she was going to be by your side through all this. Maybe you were both changing...

“Nuh-uh.” He warned, eyeing JJ before turning his smug grin back to Pope. “Now, I’m not gonna give you a countdown or any bullshit like that. I’m just gonna whistle.” He said bluntly, eyes boring into Pope’s who was breathing heavily, nostrils flared.

It was a tense few moments — It was Pope’s choice. But was it really? Were there really any choices at all? The air grew stiff and suffocating as you watched your friend dig into his pocket, his hand emerging with the real key this time.

He was about to hand it over when he clutched it, holding it to his chest. “No.” He muttered, shaking his head as he pressed his lips together. “This key belongs to my family.” He hissed.

The man laughed, pacing shortly on his feet. “I am losin’ my patience with you, Pope.” He informed, eyes void yet full of evil all at once. He turned back to Pope, putting two fingers to his lips, preparing himself to give the signal to his men in the woods when Pope handed over the key.

He smiled, taking the item with no urgency. “You did the right thing, kid.” He commended. “Knowing when you don’t have a choice is an underappreciated talent. You be safe, now.” He waved off, turning and walking through the remaining four of you. “Y’all have a good night.” He bid farewell as he disappeared into the trees again, multiple footsteps shuffling in the greenery to follow him out.

Pope stood there, panting like an angry bull. You’d never seen him so furious. Pope was the voice of reason. He was the level-headed one. The rational one.

Not whatever this was.

“...I am so sick, of this shit.” He rasped, his anger not allowing him to move his voice above an infuriated whisper. He shook his head, fists balled tightly as he walked off.

And you stood wondering just how much more personal was this going to get.

next chapter>

#Spotify #jj maybank x reader #svn #jj maybank fluff #jj mayback x reader #obx jj x reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #obx jj #obx jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x pogue!reader

226 notes · View notes

kwanisms · 1 year ago

Text

Rough Waters — h.jisung

» stray kids masterlist «

➮ samebito!Jisung × f!Reader wc: 10k summary: Y/N is a marine biologist who is obsessed with finding new sea life. During a night dive, she stumbles across a very well hidden underwater cave entrance and finds herself meeting something that defies all logic and evolution. She forms a bond with the creature and comes back almost every night to visit him. genres/themes/au: fluff (if u squint), smut; supernatural and japanese folklore themes, s2l, slight predator/prey themes; non idol au, merman au, samebito au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, a little bit of arguing between Y/N and some of the townsfolk about the existence of mermaids, some slightly sad conversation about Jisung being alone, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! special taglist: @yoonguurt , @anyamaris , @wooyoungqueen , @kpop-stories-21 , @xsweetelegantdiasterx , @kookthief , @stardragongalaxy , @millennial-fangirl , @blankdyean , @imwithurmother , @bangchans-angel , @oreoqueen , @yjeonginlvr , @zdgx1 , @shuxsoo , @s00buwu , @queenmea604 , @pochaccomin , @katsukis1wife , @linos-catnip , @wh0r3mir4 , @cutiespaghetti Join the taglist! »» Closed ! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL NOT BE ADDED.

a/n: this is super self-indulgent and I will not apologize for shark merman cnc Jisung. I wanted this Jisung so I made him. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. If you enjoyed this, reblog or leave a comment. I love feedback. The next part, Changbin's part, is the last one of this series! That being said, next up is the Holiday Special of Tales from Camp. You can sign up for that taglist here and read the first two installments here. If you've yet to read the OG Tales from Camp, that masterlist is here. Thank you so much for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), unprotected sex (he’s a freakin shark merman. You think he cares about avoiding pregnancy? He can’t even get her pregnant lol but you need to use protection!), oral (f receiving), con noncon, pool/water sex (kinda lol), dirty talk, use of pet names (little fish, cutie, baby, pet, etc), rough sex, dom!Jisung, sub!Reader, even though it’s cnc Y/N is very receptive towards his advances and in the end, she does give him consent. But if CNC or dubcon makes you uncomfy, don’t read it. This is my fantasy. I wrote this for me lol if I missed anything let me know

dialogue prompt: ❛ I'm waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you. ❜

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

The warning sign at the beach that read ‘beware of sharks’ in all capital letters should have served as warning for what you were about to get yourself into.

Living in a seaside town has always had its perks. Sandy beaches to visit in the summers, the smell of salt that you’d come to love, boating, all the seafood you could want among them. It was almost like your own personal paradise.

The one drawback was the shark population that increased at the end of summer which drove away the rest of the tourism for the season. You weren’t mad about it. After all, the ocean was home to all marine animals, sharks included. As a biologist, you knew each animal had its own purpose and was beneficial to the ecosystem, especially sharks.

So despite the danger, you never missed an opportunity to dive when the weather allowed. Of course, you chose night time for your dives.

Night was perfect as the animals weren’t as active without the sunlight.

Your dive for the night had taken you to a rocky part of the shore where you knew caves would be. The caves along the shore were always hard to reach and most of them only had underwater entrances.

You’d explored a fair share of them since moving to this town but there were many more you wanted to explore and see what kind of life you could find.

This excursion was like any other, you’d made a plan with the local coast guard as well as letting your contact in town know when, where, and how long you’d be. It was a standard procedure which had become routine for you.

You had taken out your boat and anchored it just off shore and near what you assumed was the opening to another cave before suiting up and jumping into the water. The water was cool enough in the summer months but in the fall it was almost freezing, making you grateful for the wetsuit you wore no matter the temperature. Making sure your mask was secure you slowly sank into the water, turning on and shining your light towards the bottom of the rocks.

An opening was visible at the base and you carefully made your way down, inspecting the opening before starting inside. You’d explored many of these caves before, you knew the procedure and the caves never scared you. To some, caving was one thing but to do so underwater was an entirely different beast. To you, it was almost second nature.

As you continued forward, you scanned the walls of the cave, taking note of the coral, algae, and other life that had taken root on the walls. It wasn’t uncommon to find life in places like this. Sea caves were often the home to unique and enclosed ecosystems.

As you gently propelled yourself forward, you noticed how the cave seemed to open up. As you reached the end you looked up and saw that the cave did indeed open up into a large cavern. Sand lined the bottom of the cavern, many coral reefs and other life taking up residence. You started to swim up, noticing the surface approaching rapidly.

You broke through the surface of the water and found that the cavern was much larger than you initially thought. Swimming over to the edge of the pool, you pulled yourself up and started to look around as you started to remove your mask.

It was a rounded cavern. The pool was about twenty feet in diameter but there was a rocky ledge where you were currently perched on and then the rocky floor continued for another twenty feet making the whole diameter of the cavern about forty feet. You pulled your mask off and set it down as you undid and shrugged off your oxygen tank.

“This is incredible,” you whispered to yourself as you removed your flippers and got up, starting to walk around the cavern and inspect the walls. There was a slight glitter to them as you shined your light. Not like they were wet but like some kind of diamond dust was embedded in the rock.

You looked straight above your head and noticed there was an almost perfect circular cut out in the cavern ceiling and moonlight was filtering through the hole. The moonlight hit the surface of the water and danced around the cavern.

As you were inspecting, you noticed something else.

The cave seemed inhabited. You noticed bones collected in a pile and an old fire pit. You wondered who might seek shelter in this cave when it was so close to the boardwalk but didn’t have time to dwell on it as you heard a large splash coming from the pool.

You made your way back over and cursed as you saw your mask and oxygen tank sinking to the bottom of the pool. “Shit,” you said softly and looked around. You hoped there might be a break in the rocks that would allow you to exit the cave instead of having to go back into the pool but you saw nothing.

You turned around on the spot, trying to figure out a way out of this but you saw nothing that could help. There was nothing you could use to reach the tank and mask which were now nestled at the bottom of the pool in the sand. “Fuck!” you cursed, your voice echoing off the wall.

You looked away from the pool when you heard a shift against the rock behind you.

Shining your light back, you saw nothing and chalked it up to nerves.

You turned back, eyes catching something dark in the pool below you before you felt something grab you and pull you into the pool.

You kicked and fought against whatever it was until it seemed to let go of you and you quickly swam to the surface, coughing once you broke through the surface. You tried to pull yourself up onto the rocky ledge but something grabbed your leg and tugged, pulling you off the wall and back into the water.

Just as quickly as it grabbed you, it let go.

You tried to shine your flashlight around but whatever it was moved too fast for you to get a good glimpse of it. In a desperate attempt to throw the animal off, you threw your flashlight away, turning back for the ledge at the light splashed a considerable distance away.

You hoped the splash would distract the animal enough for you to get away and it seemed to work as you scrambled up onto the rocky ledge before you pulled away and peered back at the still water’s surface. Your eyes scanned the area, looking for any kind of predator that could have been responsible.

Upon not seeing one, you looked down to inspect your arm and your ankle. Your skin was unbroken and mostly unscathed. There were slight imprints, almost like teeth or maybe even claws but no blood had been drawn.

A small splash caught your attention and you snapped your head up in time to see a ripple cross the surface of the water. Something had disturbed the water. You saw a dark shadow move near the bottom of the pool, only noticing it as it crossed in front of the beam of your flashlight.

You were being watched. Whatever had dragged you into the water knew you were there and it was circling the pool. Waiting. Hunting. Whatever it was was sentient enough to know it had you trapped. It knew the only way out of the cave was through the water and it would wait.

You should have been terrified. After all, it was hunting you but your curiosity wouldn’t be satisfied until you caught a glimpse of it. You had to know what it was.

Carefully, you approached the edge of the pool, eyes scanning the dark and catching a large shadow as it swam in circles. Not in an erratic or frenzied pattern but calmly. Almost… leisurely.

As you peered over the edge of the rocks, the shadow stopped circling and started to swim to the surface. You watched in awe as a dark smooth body broke through the surface before you saw the fin. A shark fin. ‘Of course it was a shark,’ you told yourself watching as the creature moved towards you.

You pulled back slightly as it drew closer and closer. You were well aware that some sharks were known for their breaching behavior, namely great whites. This was definitely not a great white shark. It was much darker. It could have been a tiger shark but tigers weren’t known for their aggressive behavior.

Bull sharks on the other hand were and though bull sharks hadn’t been spotted in the area in over 20 years, it wasn’t completely impossible.You drew back entirely, hoping the animal wouldn’t try to jump out of the water to reach you.

As it drew closer, you watched as it dove down with just precision that you were starting to wonder if it was a shark after all. Sharks weren’t known for diving so steeply. They were gradual divers. You leaned over the edge and lost sight of the shadow. Your eyes caught the flickering of your flashlight and you cursed as it went dark, the illumination you had now gone and only the light of the moon allowing you to see.

The water seemed to still as you looked around. Had it left? Was the animal gone? Your instincts told you it was still there, waiting for you to slip up before it took you at its latest meal.

Even though sharks didn’t go out of their way to eat humans, if one was hungry enough, it would stalk one and wait. Just like any other starving predator.

As you looked around, you saw bubbles just under where you were leaning over the water.

You glanced down and let out an ear piercing scream as the creature surfaced quickly, forcing you back as it breached and landed on top of you. You struggled to push it away, taking care to avoid the head and any potential bites.

As you struggled under the weight of the animal, you could have sworn you heard… laughter?

Your eyes popped open and you looked up, fear and shock mixing as you stared at the creature above you.

You were looking into the face of a man. Your shock and fear turned briefly into anger as you tried to make sense of the situation. Had it been a man this whole time? Some weird cave hermit that had been tormenting you and pretending to be a shark to scare you into leaving his home?

“You should see your face!” he said as his laughter grew. You narrowed your eyes and tried to sit up but it was then you noticed the lower half of his body and gasped.

From the waist up, he was human. Golden tan skin that blended into the dark blackish-blue of his shark-like tail. A… merman? Your eyes traveled back up to his face, taking in each and every detail bathed in moonlight. He wore around his neck a black cord necklace with shells and in the middle, a pendant made from a shark tooth.

You watched as he continued to laugh, sharp pointed teeth peeking out from his plush peachy lips.

“You humans are so much fun,” he said as his laughter subsided. His hands rested on the rock under you as he leaned over you, his slim waist positioned between your thighs as he smirked at you. Leaning slightly to the left, you looked over his body again. The dark blackish-blue faded into a pale grayish-blue on the ventricle side and the same grayish-blue stripes covered his back. The fin on his back was just past his waist and was a very typical shark-like fin.

His tail was also the trademark shark fin but it was more like a thresher tail with the top part of the fin longer. Your eyes traveled back up to his face, inspecting the ocean blue irises that stared back at you. “What the--” you trailed off, pushing yourself up, forcing the creature to back up.

“What are you?” you asked, voice full of caution and curiosity. You watched as the creature fell back into the water, disappearing below the surface before popping back up, fixing you with a playful stare. “You’re the scientist,” he noted. “You tell me.”

You stared at him blankly. How could you even expect to explain this? Explain him? His very existence had been disputed and debated for hundreds of years. Mermaids were the stuff of legend and folklore. They weren’t supposed to exist.

If that were the case however, how did you explain this? How did you explain the creature treading water before you? “It has to be some sort of suit,” you mumbled, looking at the shark-like body under the water. The creature scoffed. “It’s always ‘seeing is believing’ with you humans until something shows up and then it’s all ‘has to be fake.’ Do you ever believe anything?” he asked.

You looked up, examining his face. His soft features. Round cheeks, plush pouty lips that started to lift into a crooked smile, showing off his pointed teeth. “I believe in science,” you explained and he rolled his eyes. “But I also believe there are things science can’t explain,” you continued.

You started to lower yourself into the water and he immediately shied away. You held up your hand. “I’m not going to hurt you,” you said softly. You saw his eyes flit to the knife strapped to your thigh. You followed his gaze and quickly removed the weapon.

“For protection,” you replied, setting it on the rocks behind you and facing him. “In case something tries to take a bite out of me,” you added. His brow furrowed. “If you get bit, maybe you shouldn’t get in the water,” he replied and you nodded. “I’ve never been bit,” you answered. “I’ve gotten close, but the knife is a last resort,” you continued.

“You have your teeth and your claws,” you reminded him. “My teeth and nails are no match for shark skin,” you added. “If you aren’t a match, why do you enter the ring?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. A smile spread across your face. “Because I study marine life,” you replied.

“I’m a marine biologist.”

The creature tilted his head the opposite direction. “Are you here to study me?” he asked. You shrugged before answering. “Up until a few minutes ago, I didn’t even know you existed,” you answered, swimming a little closer. He watched you cautiously. “So you didn’t know this cave is my home?” he asked and you shook your head. “No, I had no idea.”

He studied you carefully.

“Are you… a merman?” you asked suddenly. His expression changed, amusement crossing his features as he laughed. “A merman?” he asked incredulously. “Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “Those pretty boys live safe and sound in their lairs, never venturing far from home,” he added.

You cocked your head to the side. “Pretty boys?” you asked. “Do you not think you’re pretty?”

Your question must have caught him off guard because he stopped smiling and stared at you, a slight pink hue reaching his cheeks. “N-no,” he answered finally. “I’m not.” You frowned at him. How could he not think he was? You found all sea life incredible beautiful but nothing you’d encountered before had made you think it was attractive and yet here he was before you.

“I think you’re pretty,” you replied. He stared at you, eyes widening. “Y-you do?” he asked softly, to which you nodded. “I think you’re very pretty,” you replied. He swam a little closer, inspecting your face. “So,” you said, breaking the silence. “If you aren’t a merman, what are you?”

He raised his gaze to meet yours, drawing it from your body under the water. “What do you think I am? Hmm, marine biologist?” he asked and you sighed, backing away from him and pulling yourself up onto the rock. “Sorry,” you said as you situated yourself. “My legs were getting tired.”

He watched as you massaged your calves. “I can only tread water for so long.”

“In my experience,” you started. “I’ve never seen anything like you,” you continued. “The shark part is unlike any species I’ve ever seen. It’s like an amalgamation of tiger and thresher sharks,” you noted. He smiled, showing off his pointy teeth as he swam closer. “So you’re saying I’m unique?” he asked.

You nodded as he drew closer. “Unique and otherworldly,” you added. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” He pulled himself back up, leaning over your frame. “You’ve never seen anything like me?” You shook your head again. “Never,” you replied.

Silence fell over the two of you as you stared at one another. His dark hair had started to dry a bit, the ends of his bangs falling into his eyes. “What do you call yourself?” you asked, tilting your head to the right. He smiled, mimicking your movement. “Jisung,” he replied. “My name is Jisung.”

“Jisung,” you repeated. He leaned in, eyes watching your lips as you spoke. “I like the way you say my name,” he whispered. You could feel your heart rate kicking up as he leaned closer. ‘What is he doing?’ You stared back as his eyes moved up to meet your gaze. “What is your name?” he asked just as softly as before.

You froze. He was asking your name? Should you tell him? It’s not like he was going to look you up or something. You then wondered if you should tell any kind of sentient creature your name. Didn’t that give them power over you or something? You must have taken longer than he expected because he smirked at you.

“What’s the matter? Shark got your tongue?” he asked, amused by his own joke.

Your facade broke and you smiled. “Y/N,” you finally answered. “I’m Y/N.” Jisung smiled back, a genuine smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” he replied, lowering back into the water and staring up at you.

“Likewise,” you replied.

After meeting Jisung that night, you promised to come back. And came back you did.

You managed to gain his trust enough to draw a small vial of blood, and take a couple pictures mainly of his tail and markings. You promised to keep his existence a secret, making sure all your research on him was done at home and that you kept everything under wraps.

A few days turned into a week and you came back almost every night, getting to know Jisung and more about his existence. You learned that he wasn’t a merman, like he had said. He was a samebito. He had explained that it was similar to a merman but different folklore and legends.

A week and a half had passed since you first met Jisung and you were currently sitting on the edge of the boat, writing in your notebook, going over your notes before suiting up and jumping in the water.

A splash caught your attention and you glanced up. You weren’t sure why you even looked, it was night time and you couldn’t even see the water except near your boat. You grabbed the spotlight, flipping it on and turning it slowly until something came into view and you sighed.

“Someone’s impatient,” you chuckled, letting go of the light and returning to your notes as Jisung swam over to your boat. “I got lonely,” he said softly as he reached the end of your boat. He quickly pulled himself up to sit on the side of the boat near you.

“What’re you writing?” he asked, leaning over to see your notebook. “Just some notes,” you mumbled, finishing up your notes and closing the notebook quickly, and setting it aside. You turned to look at him and your smile fell upon seeing the fresh scar on his shoulder.

“What happened here?” you asked, voice laced with concern as you scooted closer.

He glanced down and let out a chuckle. “Oh,” he said softly. “I got a little too close to a shark feed ground,” he continued. “I’ll heal pretty quickly,” he added as you inspected the wound. “I was hunting and got in the way,” he admitted with a sheepish smile.

“Have you eaten?” you asked, looking up at him. He met your gaze and hesitated. “What?” he asked and watched as you got up and walked over to the opposite side of the boat, lifting one of the seats and reached in to pull out one of the fish you’d caught earlier.

“Here,” you said, holding it up. “I mean,” you added, turning your head to look at the fish. “I could cook it,” you said softly. Jisung smiled and chuckled. “Did you catch that for me?” he asked as you walked over, holding the fish up. You nodded. “There’s more in the cooler,” you added.

Jisung chuckled and shook his head. “It’s okay,” he said with a smile. “I’ve eaten,” he explained, taking the fish from you. “I don’t want to gross you out,” he added as he inspected it. “Oh,” you said dejectedly. Jisung looked up and handed the fish back. “Just keep it on ice for a little while longer and sell it if you don’t eat fish,” he said softly.

You took the fish and took it back to the cooler, closing it and placing the seat down before heading back and sitting back down. “So when did this happen?” you asked, nodding at his shoulder. He glanced down again as he thought.

“Oh, maybe like a couple hours ago,” he replied and your eyes widened in shock. “Wait, really?” you asked and he nodded, looking confused at your shock. “Yeah, I heal pretty quickly,” he added with a laugh. You leaned forward, reaching up to brush your fingers against his skin.

“Weird,” you murmured, making him throw his head back with a laugh. “Sorry,” you said sheepishly. Jisung shook his head. “It’s okay,” he replied. “Like you said, you’ve never met anyone like me.” You chuckled, nodding. “That’s true,” you added.

Silence fell over the two of you as you looked up at the sky, the waves lapping at the sides of the boat and a gentle breeze blowing through the air. You looked over at Jisung to find him already looking at you, a calm expression on his face.

“What?” you asked softly and he shook his head, a smile spreading across his face. “Nothing,” he answered. “Oh!” he said quickly sitting up. “I found something really cool while out the other night!” he said and turned towards you.

“Wanna see it?” he asked. You nodded, feeling excited. “Where are we going?” you asked, getting up and starting to strip to your bikini, not noticing the way Jisung’s eyes followed your movement and body. You moved to grab your wetsuit.

Jisung waited patiently for you to pull it on. “Jump in,” Jisung said, looking at the water and you looked at the water. “We’re swimming there?” you asked, making him chuckle. “It’s not far,” he answered. “It’s worth it, I promise.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Come on, Y/N,” he groaned. “Live a little,” he added with a wink before rolling towards the edge of the boat and diving into the water. You sighed and grabbed your boat keys, pulling the elastic over your wrist and walking over to the light, shutting it off the light and heading to the bow of the boat, grabbing your flashlight and snorkel mask.

As you reached the back, you turned the light on to see Jisung was floating, waiting for you. “Where are we going?” you asked as you held the flashlight between your knees as you pulled the mask on. “Not far,” Jisung said as you grabbed the flashlight and climbed down the ladder, joining him in the water.

Jisung took your hand and gently pulled you along. “Come here,” he said softly. “Hold on,” he added, guiding your arms around his neck. “Are you sure?” you asked, softly, cheeks burning as you looked at him so closely. He turned his head to look at you, his own cheeks turning soft pink.

“Uh,” yeah,” he said softly. “Just try not to get under me,” he added.

It felt weird, hanging off him from behind as he started swimming. It almost felt like you were riding a shark, the trashing as he started off but soon turned into a smooth motion as he zipped through the water, propelled only by the powerful tail.

Jisung was careful to stay near the surface so you didn’t have to hold your breath with the mask. You could tell he was holding back, not swimming as fast as you knew he could go. You’d seen him zipping through the water before, breaching the surface at speeds you suspected most sharks could reach.

This was much slower than you’d witnessed.

Jisung started to slow, lifting his head out of the water. As he came to a stop, you slid from his back, reaching up to remove your snorkel mask. “We’re almost there,” he said, looking up at the stars overhead. You glanced skyward, letting out a soft gasp.

“Wow,” you whispered. Jisung chuckled, grabbing your hand gently. “Come on,” he said quietly, tugging you through the water towards the rocky beach. “I’ve seen these rocks when visiting you,” you commented as he led you towards them. “You’ll need your goggles for this,” he said, turning to look back at you. As soon as the words left his lips, you pulled them back on, dumping any water out of them.

“Now what?” you asked as he took your hand again. “Hold your breath,” he instructed. You took a deep breath and allowed him to pull you under the water, leading you down towards a cave opening. It wasn’t unlike the entrance to his cave; only this one was much narrower.

The cave opening seemed to go on forever, winding around as you let Jisung pull you. Your lungs were starting to burn and you knew if you didn’t hurry, you’d start to suffocate. Finally, Jisung pulled you free from the narrow cave into a much larger one and pushed you towards the surface.

You kicked towards the surface of the pool, breaching at the same time he did. Jisung floated near as you coughed, allowing air to fill your lungs again, the taste of salt on your tongue. “I had no idea there were so many of these,” you gasped. “How many are there?”

Jisung chuckled, taking your hand. “Come,” he said simply, pulling you through the water. The inside of this cave was much different than his. Instead of a single round chamber, there were multiple round chambers, connected together.

Jisung pulled you along into the next chamber until you reached the last one. “Through there,” he nodded towards a window in the rock wall. “This is so cool,” you commented as you swam over, pulling yourself up to peer out.

It was then that you saw it.

Jisung pulled himself up next to you, a wide grin on his face. “Wow,” you whispered. “Cool, huh?” he asked, resting his chin on his forearm.

Outside the cave was more stretch of ocean, waves rolling up onto a sandy beach. There was only about twenty feet between the beach and the treeline behind it and the beach stretched for about fifty feet between two rocky bluffs.

All along the beach, rolling in the waves were glowing blue lights. “Bioluminescent plankton,” you whispered. “They come here every night to feed,” he whispered. “It’s pretty cool, with the stars and the lights,” he continued.

You turned to look at him.

“This little alcove is remote,” he explained. “Human’s haven’t started colonizing it,” he added. “I think it might be privately owned,” he continued. You glanced at him before looking back at the beach. “I hope it stays like this,” you whispered, also resting your chin on your forearm.

You sat in silence, watching the lights dance in the waves. You could feel Jisung’s eyes on you and you turned to look at him, your cheeks burning. You watched his eyes flit between your eyes and your lips before he slowly moved. He lifted his hand, moving it to cup your face, thumb tracing the curve of your cheek.

Your heart started to hammer in your chest as he leaned closer. At that moment, a shrill laugh rang out from the direction of the trees. Jisung pulled back abruptly and you turned away from his gaze to look at the beach as a beam of light bounced along the sand.

“Teenagers,” you whispered as a group of teens came out of the woods, giggling as they descended on the shore. Jisung scoffed as he watched them. “Ungrateful little shits.” You snorted into a laugh. “Come on,” you said softly. “Before they decide to come into the water and find this cave with us inside.”

Jisung allowed you to lead him away, back through the cave. You pulled your mask back on, taking another deep breath and letting Jisung pull you through the narrow opening and back into the open ocean. You took your time swimming back, only hitching a ride when your legs gave out.

Back at the boat, Jisung watched you climb up the ladder and pulled himself up on the side again, watching as you disappeared into the cabin. In the privacy of your boat, you stripped and dried off, pulling on dry clothes and running a towel haphazardly over your hair before returning to Jisung.

His hair had started to dry as he lounged on the side of the boat, his tail hanging down the side of the vessel. You chuckled, turning on the lights of the boat and Jisung opened one eye to look at you. “Are you gonna sleep there?” you asked as you walked over, taking a seat on the cushion below where he was lounging.

He propped himself up, looking down at you. “What happened back there,” he started, his voice taking on a more serious tone. You looked away, feeling a sour taste bubbling up from your stomach. ‘He wants to forget it,’ you told yourself.

“It’s fine,” you interrupted. “It can’t happen, I know,” you added. You refused to look up at him so you missed the way his brows knitted together as he stared at you, a slight pout on his lips. “That’s what you’re going to say, right?” you asked when he didn’t answer.

“I’m a human and you’re not. So we can’t.”

You felt his fingers move under your chin, turning and tilting your head to face him. “Stop jumping to conclusions,” he said sternly before leaning in and closing the distance, pressing his lips against yours. For a split second, you panicked before accepting the gesture and melting into the kiss.

You whined as he started to pull back. You pulled him back in by the back of his neck, kissing him more fiercely. Jisung accepted your advances, lips parting as he took back control, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You pulled him closer, leaning back onto the cushions and forcing him to follow your movements.

Jisung groaned into the kiss and pulled back quickly. “Wait,” he gasped. “Sorry,” you whispered as he pushed himself up. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “Just give me a second.” You sat up as he pulled back, taking a few deep breaths. “Things were getting a little intense,” he admitted.

You smiled shyly. “Sorry,” you replied. “I got a little excited I guess,” you added, shrugging. Jisung chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “That’s okay,” he answered. “I did, too,” he admitted with a grin. “It happened really fast. I’m sorry if I crossed a line,” he continued.

You shook your head, pulling your knees up and resting your head against the backrest of the seat. “It’s okay,” you said softly, looking up at him in the lights of the boat. “I wanted it.” Jisung nibbled on his bottom lip nervously. “You did?” he asked, his voice sounding optimistic.

You nodded. “I did,” you reassured him. “You didn’t cross a line.”

“That’s a relief.”

Silence fell over you as you watched him and he watched you for a while. You weren’t sure how much time had passed before you spoke. “Do you ever get scared?” you asked him. He tilted his head curiously. “Scare?” he asked. “Of what?”

“The town? Fishermen? Being discovered?”

Jisung hesitated, no doubt pondering his answer. “Sometimes,” he answered finally. “I guess I haven’t really thought about it but I like being left alone,” he said, smiling before speaking. “Well, mostly alone,” he added. “I just want to live my life like most creatures.”

“Have you ever been spotted before?” you asked and he smiled wider. “You tell me? Heard any stories?” you snorted as you realized what he was hinting at. “No, thankfully,” you replied. Jisung chuckled at your response. “There you have it. Safe and undiscovered except by you.”

He leaned closer, brushing his lips against yours before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Your cheeks heated up again. You could feel the heat spread all the way down to your core and you tried not to focus on the feeling lingering in your stomach. Jisung noticed a shift in your demeanor and tilted his head.

“You okay?” he asked softly, moving his hand to caress your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. You nodded wordlessly. “Yeah,” you answered. “I’m great,” you lied. “But it’s getting late,” you commented. “I should probably head out.”

You got up, Jisung sitting up and watching as you did. “Hey,” he called softly, reaching out for your hand. You allowed him to take hold of it and pull you closer. “I have to go hunting tomorrow but I’ll see you after, yeah?” he asked. You nodded, leaning in to press your forehead against his.

“Goodnight,” you said softly. Jisung pulled you in, placing a tender kiss against your lips.

“Goodnight,” he whispered. You watched as he dove off the side of the boat and into the water with a splash, only surfacing to look up at you. You waved at him as he stared up at you.

“See you tomorrow!” he called before disappearing below the surface, no doubt heading into his cave.

“See you tomorrow,” you whispered.

Only you didn’t see him the next day. Or the day after that. You couldn’t bring yourself to face him.

The night after Jisung took you to see the bioluminescent plankton and kissed you, your dreams were plagued with him. They started innocently, spending time exploring the caves but they soon took a turn and you were starting to have inappropriate thoughts and dreams about him.

Things you should definitely not be thinking about.

The dreams only escalated after that and soon you were dreaming about him showing up in your home, shark tail gone and replaced with human legs.

It was starting to get out of hand.

You hadn’t been back to see Jisung in almost a week and you were feeling guilty not only for disappearing but also for having continuous wet dreams about him. How were you supposed to look him in the eye when all you could think about was him pinning you down and having his way with you?

You knew sooner or later, you’d have to go back out there. You couldn’t just not ever come back. You at least needed to explain to him why you’d been avoiding him and avoiding coming back.

The final push came when you were at the market, looking at some cuts of steak for dinner when you overheard a conversation at the next stall over.

“You’re so full of shit, Paul,” a woman said, shaking her head as she continued crocheting. “No I’m not!” the man you presumed was Paul replied. “I saw it! Looked like a great big tiger shark but it had the upper body of a man!”

You froze, eyes widening as you inspected a particular cut of steak. ‘Jisung?’

“And where did you see this mermaid?” another man asked, laughing. “Near the pier! I was doing some fishing off the end when I spotted it! Was huge! Like ten feet long!” You felt your heart start to pound as you forced a smile and pointed out two steaks.

The stall owner packaged them up for you. “Thanks,” you murmured, handing over a few notes to pay for the meat as the conversation beside you carried on.

“I swear, I saw it!”

You walked away as the others around the man laughed and waved their hands, dismissing his claims. Upon returning home, your mind was made up for you as you entered your kitchen, making one of the steaks for yourself and saving the other. You wonder if Jisung had ever had steak before.

After dinner, you packed your stuff, grabbing your bikini and house keys. You stopped and grabbed the steak from the fridge and headed out of the house, locking up and walking towards the marina, bag slung over your shoulder.

You ignored the night beach goers enjoying bonfires as you headed for the docks. Once on your boat, you casted off, backing your boat out and driving out towards the caves where you knew Jisung had taken up residence.

You reached the rocks in record time, casting your anchor and moving to lower the microphone in the water. You normally didn’t have to use it but you figured after a week, you might need to use it to draw Jisung out.

You turned the dial, starting the dolphin call and sat on one of the seats.

You waited patiently, arms crossed over your chest before you got up and headed into the cabin, changing out of your clothes and into your bikini and then pulling on the wetsuit. As you exited the cabin you heard a splash and looked up to see Jisung perched on the side of your boat staring at you.

There was no smile nor greeting. He merely stared at you blankly.

Neither of you said anything as you stared at one another. Finally Jisung spoke.

“What?” he asked shortly. You crossed to the cooler, lifting the seat and opening the cooler lid. You pulled out the steak and held it up to show him. “Ever had beef?” you asked. Jisung narrowed his eyes. “That’s all you have to say?” he asked. You tore open the brown paper and removed the plastic, holding up the steak.

“Have you ever had steak?”

He glared at you. “Is this some kind of test?” he asked. You shook your head, walking over to where he was and climbed up to sit next to him. “No,” you replied. “I was at the market earlier and got steak,” you explained. He stared at you, glancing down at the meat and back up.

“And this is relevant, how?” he asked. He was clearly upset at you and you couldn’t fault him. You disappeared after he’d kissed you. You presented the steak. “How about you eat and I’ll talk, hmm?” you asked. He looked up at you hesitantly before he nodded.

You handed him the steak to inspect. “You said it’s beef?” he asked. You nodded as he raised it to sniff. “Cow,” you added. “It’s actually a really tender cut,” you continued. “I cooked the other one earlier and ate it for dinner.”

You turned away as he nibbled at the end of the steak. “I also heard an interesting story at the market when I was buying this steak,” you explained. “One of the guys there, a local fisherman. name’s Paul,” you said, glancing at him.

“Well, Paul told everyone in his vicinity that he’d seen something out on the pier while fishing this morning,” you continued, noticing how Jisung’ gaze flickered to you. “Said he’d seen something… strange.” Jisung lowered the partially eaten steak.

“Said it was huge. Looked like a massive tiger shark,” you continued as Jisung stared unblinkingly at you. “Said it had the torso of a man.” Realization dawned on his face as you spoke. “I was spotted?” he asked and you sighed. “What were you doing at the pier in broad daylight?” you asked.

Jisung looked away from you and down at the meat. “I went looking for you,” he admitted. Your heart skipped a beat. “Why?” you asked softly. “Because you vanished,” he replied, looking up at you. “I haven’t seen you for a week!”

Your stomach sank. It was as you feared. “I’m sorry,” you said softly as he ripped the steak apart with his hands. “I was dealing with some things,” you added as he tore into one of the pieces. You watched as he chewed the raw meat and swallowed. “Are you okay now?” he asked.

You nodded. “For the most part,” you added. “I’m still… dealing,” you admitted. Jisung devoured the last of the steak and looked at you. “Do you have any more of that?” he asked, sniffing the air. You chuckled and shook your head. “No,” you replied. “Just the one.”

He pouted. “That was really good,” he murmured, looking disappointed. He perked up quickly. “You’re here though,” he added and you nodded. “I know,” you replied. “And I’m sorry I was gone.” He shook his head and nodded towards the water. “I have something to show you, come on!” he said and before you could answer, he rolled off the boat with a splash into the water below.

Sighing you grabbed your snorkel mask and turned off the boat lights, making sure to grab your keys and the ankle flashlight. Once you were equipped, you climbed down the ladder and into the water with a splash. Making sure the mask was secure, you ducked your head.

You could see Jisung swimming near the opening to his cave. Once he was certain you spotted him, he slipped into the narrow opening and you took a deep breath before following, removing the mouth piece of your snorkel.

You pulled yourself into the opening and followed the path to the interior chamber, kicking toward the surface. Jisung was sitting on the ledge of the pool and you moved over to join him, pulling the mask off and setting it aside.

“What did you wanna show me?” you asked as you pulled yourself up. Jisung held up his hand, showing you a collection of shells. “Scallops,” you muttered, picking up one of the shells. “And this,” he added, showing you an intact clam.

“It already died,” he explained as he carefully pried it open with his nails. “But this is what I really wanted to show you,” he explained as he picked up something small and round and handed it over, placing it in your palm. It was a pearl.

“It’s so pretty,” you breathed, holding the pearl closer. Jisung smiled before he slipped into the water. “I have one more thing to show you,” he added and disappeared under the water, diving down to the bottom of the pool.

He resurfaced moments later and swam closer, holding up something small, smooth, and purple. “Sea glass,” he said as you took the smooth stone-like material. “I see this stuff all the time,” he explained as he rested his chin on your knee. You smiled at him. “You’re giving gifts now?” you asked and he nodded.

He took a deep breath, the smile on his face dropping. “Is something different about you?” he asked suddenly. You glanced down at him and shook your head. “No,” you replied. He lifted his head, sniffing the air. “Something smells different…”

Your cheeks burned as he leaned closer, inhaling your scent.

“Oh,” he said softly, glancing up at you.

“Are you-”

“These are really pretty gifts,” you interrupted, looking down at the pearl and sea glass. Jisung’s brow furrowed as you avoided his gaze. “Y/N,” he started and when you still didn’t look at him, he pulled himself up, caging you in with his arms as his body slotted between your thighs.

You let out a surprised squeak, the pearl and sea glass falling from your hands and into the water with a plop. Jisung was inspecting your face, leaning closer. “Jisung,” you warned as he leaned even closer, forcing you to lean back, holding yourself up with one hand.

One of his hands moved to your lower back and pulled your hips flush against him, forcing another squeak from your lips. Heat spread into your cheeks and pooled in the pit of your stomach and Jisung’s eyes widened as the realization hit him.

“So that’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” he whispered. You shook your head. “I haven’t been avoiding-AHH!” you gasped as he very quickly pinned you down, your back flat against the rock as he hovered over you.

“You have,” he murmured. “You’ve been avoiding me. Was it the kiss?” he asked, his hands moving to pin your wrists together. “Did it have some sort of effect on--”

Jisung stopped, his words catching as he caught the change of your scent. The sudden flood of arousal that filled the cavern.

“Oh,” he said, his voice dropping an octave and eyes darkening. “So that does it for you, does it?” he asked, grinning lopsidedly at you, showing his sharp teeth off.

“Being pinned down and unable to move?”

You stared up at him, breathing heavily as heat rushed to your core, a tingling sensation starting to form in your toes. “W-what?” you whispered, your voice much softer than you intended. Jisung’s grin widened. “I think you do. I think you like this,” he continued.

You shook your head but your voice wouldn’t come out. Jisung tilted his head, black eyes boring into yours. “I think you’re lying,” he said, leaning down, his lips inches from yours. “I think you like the idea of being unable to fight back,” he chuckled, nose nuzzling into your cheek.

“Maybe I should teach you a lesson for disappearing on me for three nights. Making me worry about you.” You let out an involuntary whimper, feeling his hips grind against yours. Jisung let out a soft chuckle. “Oh, baby,” Jisung whispered as he ghosted his lips over the skin of your neck up to your ear.

“You really should have stayed away another night.”

You let out a squeal as Jisung pulled back, water splashing as he pulled you with him.

You surfaced, kicking under you to stay afloat as you looked around quickly. You turned back to the rocky ledge, to pull yourself up but as you got about halfway out of the water, Jisung resurfaced, pressing against your back and pinning you against the rocks.

You let out a cry of surprise as he chuckled in your ear, his hands wandering to your wetsuit and your eyes widened as you heard a rip of the fabric. ‘Did he just…’

When Jisung pulled back to admire his handiwork, you realized he’d ripped the entire back of your wetsuit open, completely ignoring the zipper right next to it.

You lowered yourself into the water and turned to look over your shoulder at him, finding half of his face submerged in the water. “What the hell!” you snapped. Jisung darted forward, pinning you against the rock wall. “Sorry, little fish,” he chuckled as his hands were quick to start pulling your wetsuit off, leaving you in just your swimsuit.

“That was my favorite wetsuit,” you pouted as you watched it sink into the depths of the pool. Jisung blocked your view, taking your face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, leaning in until your lips were inches apart. You stared back at him, unmoving. He hesitated, a slight smirk crossing his features before he finally closed the distance, kissing you.

Your lips parted in a gasp allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. Your own hands had moved to the rocks, trying to keep yourself from sinking. Jisung pulled back, lips ghosting across your cheek and kissing down the side of your neck.

You felt him nip at the string of your bikini top. “I could easily snap this,” he mused before continuing to kiss along your shoulder. You opened your mouth to retort but he pressed his hips against yours, ripping a moan from your throat instead.

Another roll of his hips and your hands slipped from the rocks. Jisung was quick to grab your wrists, placing your hands on his shoulders. “If you need to hold onto something, hold onto me,” he said, watching your face as he rutted against you again.

Your head was swimming, heat pooling in your lower belly as the shark creature grinded against you, one hand holding onto the rocky ledge while the other moved down to your thigh, holding your hips in place. The rocks in the wall behind you jutted out, pushing into your back but you couldn’t be bothered to care, not when Jisung was breathing heavily into your ear, teasing you with his words.

“You know I could pin you down and have my way with you right now if I wanted to, right?”

You let out another moan as he rutted against you. “What’s stopping you,” you breathed, your voice just audible over the sound of the water lapping against the rocks. Jisung chuckled softly, his breath fanning over your collar and neck. “Because,” he started, slowing his movements.

“I’m waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you.”

One of your hands moved up the back of his neck, tangling in his dark locks. “Then consider this my consent,” you whispered before pulling him into a heated kiss. It only lasted for a few moments before Jisung lifted you up out of the water, placing you on the edge of the rock ledge.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, reaching up and untying one side of your bikini bottoms, letting the material fall before untying the other side and grabbing your hips in his hands. You had no time to ask what he was doing before you felt his tongue rough against your clit.

“Oh shit,” you gasped, eyes fluttering shut, one hand moving to his hair. Jisung ignored your grip on him, merely licking slowly up your slit. “That steak tasted amazing,” he noted, his voice low and gravelly.

“But you taste divine.”

You let out another moan as his lips attached to your clit, teasing, flicking, and sucking on the sensitive nub. You felt the tips of his pointed nails digging slightly into the flesh of your thighs. “Oh shit,” you gasped as he nipped at your clit.

“J-Jisung!” you whined, back arching as he lapped at your clit. “Keep saying my name like that,” he groaned against you. “Sounds so good when you say it like that, baby.”

“I need you pliant,” he murmured, pulling back to look at your slit. “But I don’t wanna hurt you,” he added softly. “Spread your legs for me, cutie,” he instructed. “And keep them spread.”

You did as he asked, spreading your thighs, squeaking out a small yelp when he pushed your knees closer to you. “Hold right here,” he said, patting the backs of your knees. You replaced his hands and groaned as you felt his tongue against your slit.

“Relax for me,” you heard him mutter and you took a deep breath.

You felt the tip of his tongue push into your hole and both of you groaned; you at the intrusion and him at the taste and warmth of your cunt. You felt him ease more of his tongue into your walls and wondered if he’d been hiding the majority of his tongue.

You moaned, walls clenching as his tongue moved in and out of you slowly. “F-fuck. I didn’t know you could do that,” you whined. Jisung hummed against you, sending vibrations against your clit and you gasped out.

Just as quickly, he withdrew his tongue and pulled back. “I think that’s enough,” he said as you propped yourself up, chest heaving. “I’ll just have to take my time easing into you,” he added, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer.

You let out a yelp as your lower half fell into the water. “Turn around,” he growled, grabbing your hips and pushing you into position as you held onto the ledge. Jisung lifted you partially out of the water, holding you in place. “W-what’re you doing?”

“I’m going to fuck you, baby,” he chuckled. You felt something warm and wet grind against you and you let out a moan. “O-okay,” you said as he pressed the head of his cock against your slit. “It’s not too late to tap out,” he joked and you shook your head.

“No,” you retorted. “I want this.”

Jisung hissed, the tip of his cock slipping into you and making you gasp at the intrusion. You hadn’t gotten to see it before he was pushing it into you but it felt huge. You moaned, your walls stretching to accommodate him as he slid in, inch by inch.

“Hold still,” you heard him whisper as he pinned you against the ledge. “What--FUCK!”

You cursed, gasping as he thrust forward, sheathing his entire length inside you with one motion.

“Oh fuck,” you groaned, knees bumping into the rock wall as Jisung bottomed out. “Hah, so t-tight,” you heard him grunt. “M’gonna fuck you so good,” he chuckled, resting his forearm over your back. “Now just stay still, baby,” he continued, slowly pulling back and snapping his hips forward, making you gasp.

“Fuck you feel good. I should have done this a lot sooner,” he mused, setting a steady pace, thrusting into you from behind. “J-Jisung,” you whimpered. You felt his breath as he leaned in close to your ear. “This was more fun when you fought back,” he panted. “So fight me.”

You tried to push yourself up but he just forced you back down. “Come on, baby,” he cooed. “You can do better than that. Beg me to stop,” he laughed, slamming into you, making you see stars with each thrust. “S-stop,” you stammered weakly.

Jisung laughed again, his breath hot and heavy against the back of your neck. “Is that the best you’ve got?” he asked. “Come on, pet,” he continued, grunting with effort. “Really beg me.”

S-stop, please,” you whimpered, finding a little more strength in your voice. You didn’t want him to stop though. Not when it felt so good. “That’s it,” Jisung groaned. “Keep it going. Beg me not to fuck you. Tell me you want me to let you go. Plead with me,” he growled.

You gasped as he gave you a hard thrust, stealing the words from your tongue and the breath from your lungs. “J-Jisung. Stop. This is wr-wrong. P-please s-uh-stop,” you moaned into the rocky surface. You noticed how your whines and pleas only spurred him on.

You tried again to push yourself up only for him to grab both of your wrists, forcing you back down against the rocks, pinning your arms behind your back with one hand. “You really think you can fight me off?” he scoffed, thrusts increasing in speed.

“You think you’re strong enough?”

You shook your head, moans slipping from your lips as your mind started to go blank. “That’s right, little fish,” he smirked. “You’re powerless against me. You can’t do anything. You’re completely at my mercy. This entire time you think you’ve been in control?”

He chuckled darkly. “You haven’t been in control of shit. I let you think you had the power here. You’re out of your depth, Y/N. You have no idea what you’re up against,” he growled, slowing his thrusts to deep rolls, making your eyes roll back and a low moan escape the back of your throat.

“I let you leave every night but you always come back to me,” he continued. “Why do you think that is?” he asked softly, continuing to grind against you, his cock lodged deep in your walls. “Because you’re mine,” he growled. “You’ve been mine from the moment you entered this cave and you’ll be mine when you leave ‘cause no matter how many times you leave after this…” he trailed off, licking against your pulse point.

“You’ll always come back to me.”

You let out a mix between a scream and a moan as you felt his sharp teeth pierce your skin. ‘He just bit you. You’re gonna bleed out, you idiot!’

Despite the sharp stinging pain, the bite was more superficial with only minimal bleeding. It was meant to scar you. To mark you. You were now marked as his.

Upon sinking his teeth into your skin, Jisung felt your walls contract around his cock and he groaned, his thrusts regaining the same relentless pace from before, slamming into you repeatedly, savoring your cries of both pleasure and pain from the bite. It would heal. It wasn’t that deep anyway.

Your walls tightened, restricting his movement as he felt you cum and he coaxed you through it, whispering words of encouragement in your ear as you came down from your high. “That’s it, baby,” he whispered. “Such a good girl, taking my cock so well.”

You moaned in response as he kept going. “It’s my turn, little one,” he murmured. “Shhh, baby. It’s okay. Just let go. I’ve got you,” he added, keeping a firm hold on your wrists. “Gonna fill this cute little pussy with my cum and make you mine.”

He readjusted your hips so the rock wasn’t digging into your hips before chasing his own. The sound of skin on skin echoed around the small cavern, bouncing off the rock walls, mixing with your moans until Jisung finally let out a slew of curses, strung between moans as he came, burying his cock deep inside you and filling your cunt with his seed.

He knew it wouldn’t take. You were human after all. He couldn’t actually breed with you but damn did it feel good to pretend for a few minutes as he came down from his own orgasm, muttering into your ear about how you were bound to him forever and how cute you’d look carrying his child.

When the moment passed, Jisung inspected the bite wound to your shoulder, clicking his tongue. “I could have bitten harder,” he murmured as he released your arms. “It might not show once it heals,” he added as you pushed yourself up. “If it doesn’t show up,” you said, your voice hoarse.

“I guess you’ll just have to try again.”

Jisung smiled as you looked over your shoulder at him. “How about tomorrow?” he asked, eyes sparkling in the moonlight. You rolled your eyes. “I meant after it heals, you perverted sex fiend!”

Jisung pouted as you pushed him away, his cock slipping out of you and retracting back into his body as you shakily pulled yourself up onto the rock ledge. “But,” he started as you grabbed your bikini bottoms and turned to face him. “No buts,” you retorted. “Let me heal first, otherwise you might kill me.”

Jisung watched as you put your swimsuit back on, retying the strings. He watched as you moved back to sit on the edge, dipping your legs into the water before moving to push your thighs apart and slot between them, resting his arms on the tops of your thighs.

He smiled a toothy grin when you looked down, meeting his gaze before he spoke.

“So, the day after tomorrow?”

ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

#cultofdionysusnet #mfu-net #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #han jisung scenarios #han jisung imagines #han jisung fanfiction #han jisung fanfic #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #kwanisms kinktober 2023

1K notes · View notes

padfootagain · 9 days ago

Text

Love in Verses (XXII)

Chapter 22 : ‘And if you missed a day, there was always the next, and if you missed a year, it didn’t matter, the hills weren’t going anywhere’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! A very important chapter!!!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2436

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Sunrise

This time of year, the window boxes smell of the hills, the thyme and rosemary that grew there, crammed into the narrow spaces between the rocks and, lower down, where there was real dirt, competing with other things, blueberries and currants, the small shrubby trees the bees love— Whatever we ate smelled of the hills, even when there was almost nothing. Or maybe that’s what nothing tastes like, thyme and rosemary.

Maybe, too, that’s what it looks like— beautiful, like the hills, the rocks above the tree line webbed with sweet smelling herbs, the small plants glittering with dew—

It was a big event to climb up there and wait for dawn, seeing what the sun sees as it slides out from behind the rocks, and what you couldn’t see, you imagined;

your eyes would go as far as they could, to the river, say, and your mind would do the rest—

And if you missed a day, there was always the next, and if you missed a year, it didn’t matter, the hills weren’t going anywhere, the thyme and rosemary kept coming back, the sun kept rising, the bushes kept bearing fruit—

The streetlight’s off: that’s dawn here. It’s on: that’s twilight. Either way, no one looks up. Everyone just pushes ahead, and the smell of the past is everywhere, the thyme and rosemary rubbing against your clothes, the smell of too many illusions—

Between them, the hills and sky took up all the room. Whatever was left, that was ours for a while. But eventually the hills will take it back, give it to the animals. And maybe the moon will send the seas there, and where we lived will be a stream or river coiling around the base of the hills, paying the sky the compliment of reflection.

I went back but I didn’t stay. Everyone I cared about was gone, some dead, some disappeared into one of those places that don’t exist, the ones we dreamed about because we saw them from the top of the hills— I had to see if the fields were still shining, the sun telling the same lies about how beautiful the world is when all you need to know of a place is, do people live there. If they do, you know everything.

The hills are terrible, they hide the truth of the past. Green in summer, white when the snow falls.

Louise Glück

You went home that night a few minutes after Andrew had left. There was no need to stay, you couldn’t focus or have any kind of coherent thought after that kiss anyway. So you headed home, trying not to think of Andrew, of his delicious scent, of the roughness of his beard against your skin, of the softness of his lips against yours, of his taste of coffee and chocolate, of how good his kiss was…

You kept those thoughts at bay while driving, but then they were swarming as you took off your shoes in your flat, locked your door, took off your coat and started pacing across your living room.

What the fuck was that?! The first time around, you were both drunk, it was easy to brush off the moment you had shared as a mistake. But this time?!

You needed to be logical. Logic and reason. Logic and reason…

What the fuck was that?!

A mistake. That was what it was. You had said it yourself! His feelings were all over the place, and in these moments of intense stress, people did crazy and stupid things, like kissing other people they didn’t really like. Maybe he was feeling lonely, and, and… you were there… you were there and that was it. Nothing special about it. He had apologised, it was alright, the two of you could go on with your lives and your arrangement as if nothing had happened.

But then… why did you keep thinking about his lips on yours, and his tongue, and his hands, and his smell, and his rushing heart under your palm and…

No! You turned to the picture of you and Frank displayed there, on your mantlepiece, the one reminder of the life you should have, the one you wanted. You were a strong, independent woman, and you knew what you wanted. You wanted your life back. You wanted your life with Frank back. Yes, Andrew was smart, and kind, and a gentle soul, and hilarious once you had broken his shy shell, and adorable with his blushing and his discomfort and his glasses, and of course, of course he was gorgeous, tall and pretty and…

… yes, yes to all of that. But you wanted Frank.

You wanted Frank.

You repeated the sentence like a mantra, just to convince yourself. And for a moment, you succeeded.

Still, the dreams you forgot in the morning were full of long brown curls, of a beard brushing your skin, of hazel and a laughter you knew was not Frank’s. Not Frank’s at all…

The air was crisp, the leaves white with frost, the grass a paler green than usual. The sky a moody grey, the trail ahead overgrown with bushes over its edges. The buzzy chirping of birds, the whisper of a river nearby. The hushed murmur of leaves under a squall, the shade under the canopy of the forest you were walking through. It was cold, and it was lovely, wandering across the countryside across the Wicklow Hills. Such a quiet day, life in winter was slowed down, Nature itself had settled for a rhythm that was quieter than its usual rush of life. It felt like you had a million years ahead of you, like this very day would never end, like time would stretch forever ahead, becoming infinite in its slowing pace. Like there would always be a tomorrow, like all things in life would last.

The warm feeling that had settled in Andrew’s chest was steady, unwavering, this afternoon. It had appeared when he had dropped by your building to pick you up. You were grinning, such a happy smile on your features. He was glad, relieved even, to find such grins more and more often on your lips these days. It seemed that you were happier again, a closer image to the woman he had first met, the one beaming with warmth and a quiet joy.

Elwood was walking before him, taking off every now and then because of the nearby smell of a bird, a badger, or a fox, but Andrew was quick to call for him, and the obedient dog always stopped, returned to the safety of Andrew’s side. He seemed in bliss like this, free to run up and down the path as long as Andrew could keep an eye on him. He was busy sniffing the side of the path now, near a relatively tall oak tree, while Andrew was laughing loudly, so loudly he scared for good the fox Elwood had smelled.

“Do it again! Do it again, Andy!”

Andrew tried to calm down, to breathe fully again, but it was hard to do so when your laughter was still in the air. You seemed so happy this afternoon. Carefree. Radiant. Christ, he wanted this moment to last forever, to see you smiling like this until the sun itself would burst and destroy all things known to mankind, until the universe would collapse and die out, until even light was gone. He wanted this moment to last forever, for you to always be this happy, for him to always be able to see you like this…

He caught himself thinking these ridiculous thoughts, because okay, fine, maybe he liked you a little. Perhaps, just perhaps he had a tiny crush on you. But nothing more. Nothing close to love. That was a feeling only for Sam, you… you were charming, and funny, and so damn smart, and strong, and brave, and gorgeous and… yes! Yes, of course, to all of that, but you weren’t Sam, and he wanted Sam, because he couldn’t fall in love with someone else, that was impossible. He had come to this conclusion the night after your second kiss, a week ago. You had said it yourself, his feelings were all over the place, he wasn’t thinking straight. Yes, he was attracted to you, yes, he liked you… but that was it. That was it…

Except it wasn’t, and Andrew was painfully aware of it now. Now that you stared at him with those eyes he saw in his dreams, now that your laughter warmed his very soul, now that all he wanted was to kiss you, to hold you tight, to feel your grin against his lips and taste the joy that escaped your mouth.

He liked you. Badly so. He had a crush on you. A very, very heavy crush on you. One that he had to refrain and get under control, because none of this was the plan, because you were colleagues, because you were friends, because you still loved your ex while Andrew wasn’t certain of his feelings for his ex… and yet, he still felt it with every fibre of his being.

He had a crush on you…

“Do it again!” you commanded once more, and you were so adorable like this, all laughter and childish excitement.

He was laughing too much though. When he brought up his hands to his mouth, positioning a single blade of grass between his thumbs, he couldn’t blow enough air to make the grass whistle.

“Wait…” he choked on his laughter.

“Do it again, Andy!”

“Stop making me laugh so much!” he complained, stumbling on his feet, laughing too hard.

“Come on!”

“Hang on… wait, wait, wait…”

He adjusted the grass between his fingers, put it to his lips once more. It failed, but he tried a third time. The sound that came out was hilarious, but it worked. He looked at you with wide eyes, while you laughed again. He made a funny face while blowing hard a fourth time, and you doubled over with laughter.

“What was… that sound?!” you laughed so hard you were choking on your words, and Andrew wasn’t in a better state as he answered.

“A whistle!”

“It’s not… not a whistle! It’s a trumpet at best…”

You couldn’t speak anymore, Andrew had to stop walking, holding onto his stomach as he bent over and laughed, laughed, laughed until there were tears falling on his glasses. You reached for him for support as you were lost to a new fit of laughter. He reached for you as well, meeting you halfway so you could hold onto his arm, and he could do the same.

Further down the path, Elwood was sending the pair of you a questioning look, but Andrew didn’t notice. He finally calmed down enough to stand straight, stretching fully his back again. He waited for you to be steady on your feet to let go, but you kept on holding onto him. He took off his glasses to dry them on his scarf.

“I can’t believe you’re mocking my secret talent,” he shook his head.

“This was hilarious. Ugh… my stomach hurts now.”

“Come on, we’re almost there! There’s such a nice view up the hill.”

“Give me a minute. I need to catch my breath.”

“Am I making you out of breath?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows and successfully making you laugh again, although he couldn’t help but regret having this playful flirt with you.

“Sometimes,” you admitted with a wink, and the sight made his heart skip several beats.

He hoped you would take his flushed cheeks for a consequence of his laughter, or the cold weather, or your walk even.

“Come on, we’re almost there!” he dragged you along further up the path until you had found back your usual pace.

You hurried as you noticed that the forest was less and less dense, the trees more spaced out until there was nothing above your heads but the greyish white of the sky. You almost ran the first few meters to the top of the hill, while Andrew looked at you, shaking his head and climbing at a more reasonable pace. Elwood was trotting next to you, tail wiggling in joy.

At the top of the hill, there were about twenty more meters to walk to reach a clear view of the valley below surrounded by the small mountains of the Wicklow hills. A river ran through the valley, a string of greyish blue in a land made of patches of browns and greens. He let you walk ahead for a bit, stopped when your silhouette seemed to be overseeing the valley. He took out his phone, snapped a picture of you with your red scarf blowing in the wind, a vivid contrast to the pale sky, with mountains before you and Elwood sitting at your feet. He could have stood there for hours, looking at the gorgeous landscape, the cotton-like sky, you… He felt so peaceful then, without his ordinary dread of time passing, of running out of precious moments, of missing what was important, of wasting the little amount of years he was allowed to spend on this earth. There was just today, and he had all the time in the world, so long as he could watch you like this…

You turned around then, grinning.

“Andy! It’s gorgeous out here!”

“Told you!” he spoke loudly to be heard over the wind that was blowing harder on the treeless space of the summit.

“Come here!”

You held out your hand for him, and Andrew walked over to you, held the hand you were offering in his. You gave his fingers a squeeze, grinning, before letting go and turning to the beautiful sight again.

“Thanks for bringing me here,” you leaned against him, and Andrew didn’t think as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, drawing you closer.

He heaved a sigh, taking in the view. Wild and peaceful and familiar. It felt like home. Your weight against him was grounding, reliable, warm. It felt like home, too.

And for a moment, while staring at the wilderness of the Irish landscape, Andrew felt human. Instead of a struggling adult with his love life in shambles who overworked to cope with the mess the rest of his life was, he felt like he knew what it meant to be alive on this earth. Being here, staring at the land spreading at his feet, with his dog rubbing his head against his jeans, with you in his arms… That was what being human was supposed to feel like…

“Let’s take a break before going back,” you offered. “I’ve brought snacks.”

He nodded, offered you some water but you surprised him with a thermos and proper snacks. You headed back along the track to escape the violent wind, the cold too intense to bare in the openness of the hilltop. You sat down on a rock, not far from the path, and handed Andrew one of the two small thermos you had brought with you, along with a little box in which you had prepared snacks for him.

“Thank you so much, that’s so sweet,” he grinned.

You pulled out some treats for Elwood too, and Andrew’s heart melted for good.

While you busied yourself with spoiling his dog, Andrew drank some of the tea you had made for him. He frowned hard at the taste. It was… exactly how he took it. It was undoubtedly the taste of his favourite brand, the flavour too strong, it had to have been made using two teabags instead of one. He opened the little box, found there two pieces of his favourite chocolate, some grapes and a couple of biscuits. His favourites, here again.

In eight years of relationship with Sam, she had never done anything for him that seemed so tailored to his taste.

He looked at your own snacks, same quantity, but different biscuits, chocolate and fruits. Tailored to your own taste.

You had gone out of your way to prepare this for him. And it was stupidly simple, if Andrew brought it up, you would brush it off as if it were nothing. But it was everything.

You knew him. You knew him, and you had prepared all this so he would enjoy it, because you knew him.

You knew him. You…

“Andy? You’re okay?”

He merely nodded, blinked tears away, looked down at the snacks resting on his knees.

“Thanks for the snacks. That’s really fucking sweet.”

“It’s nothing.”

“I love those.”

Your smile grew more tender.

“I know.”

You knew… you knew…

He struggled not to say the words on his tongue, knowing it would spoil everything, terrified at the thought that he truly felt this way. It was obvious though. Now that the words formed in his mind, they were obviously true, so painfully obvious, how could he have been so blind?

I love you.

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier x fem!reader #hozier series #hozier fanfiction #hozier fic #hozier au #hozier professor au #professor au #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

108 notes · View notes

inbarfink · 1 year ago

Text

So when discussing the ending of ‘Over the Garden Wall’ and the nature of the Unknown in general, I think it is important to remember that it’s left deliberately up for interpretation. You know, it’s not a Quiz with one concrete answer we must uncover, but it’s more about our interpretations and personal feelings. Each and every one of us experiences that journey with Wirt and Greg into the Unknown in a slightly different way.

So what I want to do here is not present a Correct Interpretation that will dispute all the others and prove them all wrong and prove myself right, I just want to share my own outlook on the nature of the Unknown. In the hopes that others will like it and it’ll inspire more cool readings and interpretations

So on some level I do agree with the popular theory that the Unknown is some sort of Afterlife - but I don’t see it as a regular Afterlife for human souls, I think it is an afterlife for Stories. This place is where fictional characters and stories end up once they’ve been totally forgotten by the living, ‘lost in the clouded annals of history’. and become.... unknown It is quite literally a place where ‘long forgotten stories are revealed to those who travel through the wood’.

That’s why the Unknown is a mishmash of different time periods and primarily visually and narratively influenced by stuff like fairy tales, ghost stories, children’s books and old cartoons - these stories have a high-tendency to be forgotten and thus get lost in the Unknown (whatever it’s because they rely on oral traditions or because they suffered from very poor preservation historically).

And that is what the theme song, ‘Into the Unknown’ is talking about…

Where can we pretend that dreams do come true? In Stories.

And what are ‘the loveliest lies of all’? Now that would be Fiction.

The entire concept of stories is a huge theme of this song, I think.

Beatrice and her family, Adelaide of the Pasture, Auntie Whispers and Lorna were all originally fairy tales. Maybe the same fairy tale, or maybe they were originally separated before being ‘melded’ together. (If, for example, the last child to Remember them before they were forgotten just assumed the Bad Witch in both the Auntie Whispers and Beatrice stories was Adelaide)

Pottsfield was an old urban legend about a haunted ghost town, Wirt and Greg basically played through its ‘plot’ directly.

Miss Langtree, the schoolhouse and the other associated characters come from a long-forgotten and out-of-print children’s book. That’s why those characters tend to talk in comically-stilted expository dialogue.

The Tavern was the setting for a series of 20’s animated cartoons. (Although obviously set long before that era). The Tavern Keeper was created as a Betty Boop clone and was the main character. The Tavern setting was probably a mere framing device for all sort of musical animations. The reason why none of them can comprehend the idea of not having some sort of Title or Label is because that’s how they were written - all given job-related titles but not named.

Fred the Talking Horse was a main character from a forgotten tradition of humorous oral stories where he was sometimes a trickstery anti-hero and sometimes a straight-up comedic villain protagonist.

Quincy Endicott and Margueritte Grey were characters from a satiric limerick about the greedy rich and their wacky habits. (Quincy was at least inspired by a real-life person since his name appears on a tombstone in the real world)

Possibly the same limerick where the punchline was the status-quo at the beginning of their OTGW ep, that both rivals’ mansions have become connected and they assume the other is a ghost haunting their house. Or maybe they were each from different regional variations of the same limerick about a greedy rich weirdo being lost in their own house and going mad.

Frogland and their little boat might be from a children’s book as well, but I also think that maybe… from the vignettes shown at the opening of the series…

That one might take place outside the Unknown, and shows the real inception of Frogland. Two brothers making up stories with their toy boat by the river. Since they never shared these stories with anyone else, when these two brothers died or maybe just grew up and forgot their boyhood misadventures by the stream - these stories also ended up in the Unknown.

The Fishing Fish we see briefly in ‘Babes in the Woods’ might be a small comedic illustration from a children’s book, or another piece of limerick, or just someone’s random notebook doodle that gained a life of its own first in the creator’s mind and then in the Unknown.

Cloud City, the North Wind and the Queen of the Clouds were also, much like the Tavern, from a very old cartoon.

The Beast was once just a mere Boogie Man to keep young children from wandering off into the woods. Ending up forgotten in the Unknown just ended up giving him a whole world of lost souls to harvest.

Maybe the Woodsman and his daughter were always a part of the story of the Beast. But since it seems that the Woodsman being a lantern-bearer is a fairly recent development - they might have had their own separate story. Some sort of pastoral novel about a family moving near the woods? But their narrative has been ‘hijacked’ by the Beast.

Wirt and Greg ended up lost within the Unknown cause had they actually died in the lake that night - they would have become a Story in their town. I mean we have a moody lonely teenager and his adorable little brother disappearing/dying - on the night of Halloween - after last being seen in a graveyard - with the older brother’s last act on this earth being to hand his crush a cassette of his love poetry. Can you imagine what sort of Urban Legenda you can grow from those seeds?

But as they were not yet dead, and not a Story yet… so they were technically an Unknown story. Between the borders of life and death from a human perspective because they were about to die, and from a Story perspective because they were just about to be born.

And the ending sequence, with the little vignettes showing where all the characters from all the episodes ended up. I think that’s almost like Wirt and Greg back in the world of the living and the real - being able to create happy endings for all of those stories they've met. That’s how the Woodsman’s daughter ended up being alive all along - it was less that the Woodsman's whole tragedy was a wacky misunderstanding all along. But it became so as a gift of thanks by their new storytellers - Wirt and Greg.

Because if dreams can't come true, than why not pretend?

#over the garden wall #otgw #the unknown

565 notes · View notes

theresattrpgforthat · 15 days ago

Text

Mint Plays Games: NIbiru

The Pitch

Nibiru is a game about amnesiac characters called Vagabonds, wandering a gigantic space-station habitat in a speculative future, trying to keep their identities a secret even while working to uncover pieces of their memories that they’re slowly starting to recover. It’s a unique game because you create your character backstory as you play, rather than inventing your backstory during character creation.

I find it hard to describe the setting of Nibiru, and I think that’s because there’s so much lore placed inside this game. The locations of the setting are divided into three sections: the Antumbra, The Penumbra, and The Umbra. The Antumbra is located in the centre of the space station, is the most easily habitable, and acts as a series of urban cityscapes, ripe for political intrigue and big social games. The Penumbra is a series of colonies, struggling to maintain control resources, and pushing back against the powerful, well-funded city states of the centre. The Umbra is the barely survivable borders, where gravity pressure, floods and blackouts constantly threaten your life, and small communities try to get by in a setting great for exploration and eerie adventures. Any given group is expected to find ample inspiration in just one of these areas; you certainly aren’t expected to explore the entire breadth of the station (although you can if you want to, of course. It’s your game).

Being a game about amnesiacs, character creation is rather simple. Because you are playing amnesiacs, you don’t have to select a skill list, but rather build your skills alongside your memories; every time you recall a memory, you either give yourself a negative modifier and earn Memory Points, or you spend previously earned Memory Points and give yourself a positive memory. But at the beginning, all you need to do is choose a habitat that carries themes that feel resonant to you, and think about how that might affect your character. However, the Habitats give you the core themes of what you want your character’s story to be about, and I think they’re very special.

The Habitats

There are five Habitats: The Machine, The Leviathan, The Dreadlands, The Dreamlands, and Brighttown. If you are from The Machine, you were some kind of robot or AI in your past life; at some point you gained sentience, and now you’ve awoken in a human body. If you are from The Leviathan, you were originally some kind of animal, driven by instinct; and while your body is different now, those instincts are still there. Dreadlands inhabitants suffer false recollections provided by a parasite called The Nightmare, which turns all of your skills into negative memories, but still shelters and protects you, and gives you plenty of chances to re-try something you’ve rolled poorly on. Dreamlands inhabitants do not collect one set of memories, but rather find themselves reliving periods of various other lives, of people that they meet as they go about the world. And finally, Brighttown players can play versions of themselves, dropped from the mundane world into an alien environment that still occasionally turns up artifacts of the world they came from; pieces of their old life continue to haunt them.

I played a two-shot of Nibiru over the past few months. I had four players for this game, each of whom picked a different habitat to play with. We didn’t have anyone to play the Leviathan habitat, but all of the others were represented. Our first session involved introducing the players to the system, while the characters woke up in a tank of water and found themselves meeting a small settlement that needed help sending aid to their neighbours. Our second session involved a voyage through a series of flooded corridors, dealing with hostile wildlife and suspicious patrols on their way to a hidden settlement built around a strange landmark. From a GM’s perspective, it was a simple delivery mission: get something from point A to point B, and deal with whatever obstacles pop up in front of you.

The Mechanics

This game only uses d4's. In order to do something in Nibiru, a character must make one of three rolls: a regular roll, a contested roll, or a special roll. A regular roll involves rolling 3 dice, adding or subtracting dice according to relevant modifiers, and looking for at least one 4. A result with at least one 4 is a success; a result with no 4’s and at least one 1 is a critical failure. A contested roll involves two players rolling 3 (or more) d4’s and adding them up. The highest total determines who wins out. Finally, a special roll is invoked by the GM whenever the character engages with a special mechanic of the game, either a Stress test, a Habitat mechanic, or some other special rule. Typically a 4 is good and a 1 is bad, but there can be more nuance, depending on what you’re rolling for.

Just from the two-shot, I could tell that Nibiru is more designed for the long haul. Character progression is slow, using two different kinds of experience points, and characters will level up only after filling a journal page with eight memories. Creating these memories is one way to spend these experience points, as well as a way to generate more. This encourages most players to switch between creating positive and negative memories, generating both positive and negative modifiers to any given roll. The biggest advancements happen at the end of the journal page, where characters write something called a Revelation - a special power that uses the second type of XP as a resource, to allow the players do something unique and powerful, such as experience premonitions of the future, or cry black tears that can be used as a poison. Over our two-session adventure, we got nowhere near receiving a Revelation.

That being said, we did play enough of a game to get a good taste of what I think is the most interesting thing about Nibiru - the memories.

The Memories

We began the game with an opening scene of each character pulling themselves from the water, gasping for air, and being confronted with their very first link or memory - something that established each characters’ expected tone. Our Machine character wanted to recall a series of disjointed recollections of the space-ship they were responsible for, and hint at the tragedy that caused them to lose the entire crew. Our Dreadlands character began a series of memories of things going wrong around her home; people arguing and breaking in, threatening those that she held dear. Our Dreamlands character began telling a series of stories about the man he woke up next to; following the confusing tangle of events of his life journeying through the Umbra, and our Brighttown character described to us a memory of something incredibly familiar: a movie theatre, and the ticket that came with them to this new, alien world.

These memories weren’t just establishing character backstory, they were giving the players a chance to build a history collaboratively, and build parts of the world. They also gave the players control over what kind of tone they wanted to set; a Dreadlands player that is consistently creating negative memories is setting a gritty undertone that contrasts the bright, but distant memories of Brighttown. The different themes of the habitats were also clear signposts: a Dreamlands player knows that at some point they might have to help the NPCs they meet reconcile with lost parts of their past, and the decisions they make about what parts to reveal and what parts to keep quiet about says something about who their character is - and how they judge the other people they meet in Nibiru.

The Letdown

My biggest letdown regarding Nibiru is not what it provides, but what it lacks: incentives for the characters to relate and depend on each-other. The players had no reason to turn to each-other while they were wrestling with their own personal emotions: I suppose thematically, they might have had a narrative reason to do so, but there was no mechanical prompt or reward.

It was rather easy to emotionally or physically isolate oneself from the group, working together when only you were in danger, but not sharing their memories or working through their lost paths together. In some games, like Thirsty Sword Lesbians, or Last Fleet, characters are drawn or pushed together, seeing each-other as resources or tools to use, but in either case forcing the characters to confront each-other’s vulnerabilities. Nibiru’s introspection makes for a rich character experience, but in isolation, and as a result it was more like telling four separate stories, than one cohesive one.

The Takeaway

One thing Nibiru reinforces for me is the fact that you don’t really need a backstory for a character in order to find them worth playing. And the themes introduced in Nibiru’s habitats have me thinking about how baking the themes of the game into the character backstory that you do have can tie your players more closely to the setting than otherwise. As amnesiacs, your characters have a solid reason not to know any of the lore, but the fact that the players know where their memories are coming from give them enough agency to hint towards the kind of stories they want to tell. Nibiru is a game about discovery: discovering who you are, and what the world around you is like.

Nibiru is also a game with plenty of space for tragic stories. Your character sheet has space for a number of symptoms that will start to affect your character should they take too much mental damage, and these symptoms can range from hearing voices to experiencing delusions. There's a lot about mental health and memory loss tied up in the mechanics of this game, which means that as a group you need to have a talk about what sorts of themes you're comfortable experiencing, and whether there's any consequences you need to avoid for safety reasons.

I think Nibiru has the potential to create a very emotional experience for your table, but I think that you have to play this game with folks who you can expect to naturally turn to each-other even as they introspect. Mechanically, it's beginner friendly, but when it comes to role-play, it demands a level of vulnerability that I'm not sure every table wants to have.

You can check out my spreadsheet play-kit for Nibiru here.

#mint plays games #tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #nibiru

81 notes · View notes

fabulaee · 1 year ago

Text

I don’t know if I’ll ever post about it on my side bc it takes a while for me to eloquently put thoughts into words especially for a nuanced subject as this (so my rough thoughts on it under the cut just in case it gets long and ramble-y)

I do think it’s a shame that the creator behind the series has very malicious intent making it and knowing this now it’s best not to support it. I haven’t watched nor heard about it (despite the anime adaptation’s popularity) bec said genre is not my cup of tea

I can only talk about wz, since I follow him a lot more closely than the other three but based on what I’ve seen and came to a conclusion with, I don’t think he should be crucified for mentioning it. We can speculate whether or not he finished it but basing my thoughts on the available evidence (weverse live) and translations bc I think the use of words are important to this I don’t really see it as anything other than him stating that he watched a popular anime available on streaming

I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Sometimes you just watch a series casually without delving deeper into it like looking into the author’s psyche. Assuming that what he watched was a heavily censored version too and the opinions I heard of season 1, I think personally maybe it was just entertainment in a sense that it’s a show to pass the time.

Also I think the anime adaptation has to be censored and reworked for it to pass broadcast standards.

tbh I don’t think we’ll personally know what he thinks of it unless he brings it up again or gives a review but atm he hasn’t spoken about it in depth outside of that mere mention of an anime he started but didn’t finish/continue due to schedule and for me I don’t think it’s a huge crime. I would be more doubtful if he spoken about it more but also as someone who also consumes media that dabbles into darker content (i.e. silent hill, fear and hunger) sometimes you just find certain aspects like the lore or characterization intriguing but it doesn’t mean it reflects your morals irl. Like tbh the closest I can relate this to is Funger bc of how controversial that game is with the themes but I enjoy the story (and the game mechanics); unravelling the mystery of the environment and stories/motives behind the characters but does that mean I support the horrors being done to them irl? No.

Ngl I feel like I’m getting a bit more ramble-y and the thoughts aren’t as connected bc my opinion can change depending on what new info comes out (though I doubt the idols involved would say smth new). I just think it’s a complex subject blown up bc of a few words on pannchoa and with how sensitive the themes associated with the anime (and the creator being a weirdo) it’s bound to get an explosive reaction 😭 I just hope that a little more thought and discussion can be made bc of this controversy and not an immediate “you must be a bad person bc you watched xyz” kind of deal

Those media literacy classes preparing me for the lack of braincells I’ve read in the past 10 something hours

#just in case: I don’t like how children are depicted in that series #and that these are my personal opinions from existing information #but I kinda wanted to talk about bc dark themes and media consumption is an interesting subjective topic for me #it’s been awhile too but I wrote a paper re: my stance on consuming dark themes in media so… idk #I find it an interesting topic to discuss bc I do find fiction a safe space to explore themes #but also I think it’s just how we consume media/ what aspects we enjoy or disagree with/ what lines do we draw and how we define it #bc for me too I think we all view it differently #you do you bc you’re not obligated to stay if boundaries have been crossed #I really think this opens to other conversations as well #like the idol image and the cynicism of kpop #fiction vs reality and media censorship comes into play too #really interesting and intrigiuing topics #I have additional thoughts but idk where to put it in this long essay like post 😭#anyways that’s most of I want to say re: anime recommendations

4 notes · View notes

giveamadeuschohisownmovie · 8 months ago

Text

One thing I’ve grown to appreciate about the “Red Dead Redemption” series now that I’m older is that you can tell Rockstar approached this project as an anti-western. It lures you in with the promise of Wild West, yeehaw goodness, but when you actually play the games, you get hit with the brutal reality of this world.

Examples of what I mean:

1) The Mexican Revolution arc isn’t romanticized. At first, you think it’s a simple tale of the evil fascist government fighting against the heroic rebellion. But then you meet the rebel leader and he turns out to be just as bad as the government. It’s a true “both sides are in the wrong” situation and, unfortunately, the ones who truly suffer are the peasants (such as Luisa Fortuna).

2) Frontier life isn’t just shooting and action. It was also watching over animals, building farms and ranches, and trading with towns. The games really make you feel the monotony of doing chores and yard work, especially when John was in his Jim Milton phase.

3) Outlaw life isn’t romanticized either. Although you start off as a happy family, it eventually devolved into backstabbing, despair, and self-destruction. Even before then, your group aren’t the greatest of people, especially with the whole robbing people at gunpoint and shooting up towns.

4) Good guys don’t always get a happy ending. Also, every action has a consequence. John Marston had to learn that the hard way.

5) The racism. I feel like a lot of Western-themed media tries to skirt around this issue, or even avoid the topic (such as the 2016 remake of Magnificent Seven, which had a diverse group of fighters). Red Dead doesn’t pull back its punches. You have the Ivy League professor who treated Native Americans as subjects for his racist research. Abraham Reyes straight up calls Chinese people an inferior race. Then there’s the Blackwater short film playfully talking about the massacre of Native American tribes.

6) Along the same lines as point 5, the sexism. For example, there was the propaganda short film about opposing the women’s suffrage movement. And, of course, Sadie Adler not wanting to be relegated to cooking for the group since she can shoot.

7) This is more for RDR2. You actually have to pay attention to the maintenance of the horses and the guns. I’ve never seen this in a Wild West movie/TV show, and yet it’s integral to someone whose life revolves around horseback riding and shooting people!

8) Not skirting around the issue of disease, especially when healthcare wasn’t as advanced as it is nowadays. You can see that especially with Arthur and Abigail.

292 notes · View notes

psicheanima · 28 days ago

Note

i admire how much you love and understand Makima, even as someone completely outside of the csm fanbase i can tell you know her character very well! i really look up to you in the sense of being so deeply connected with a character you can draw and talk about them endlessly.

have you always loved her that much? or was it a more gradual thing? and in your opinion do you feel like it’s easier to instantly attach yourself to a character in such a way, or slowly learn to love them as you consume more of the media they’re in?

i hope that isn’t a weird question, i’d just love to hear your thoughts on the process! seeing people so enamored by a single character is really awesome :-)

Oh wow! I’m really honored you can think that way—- especially as someone who hasn’t even read Chainsaw Man? I find that very incredible. Since I most draw her, it’s interesting not only my work could still connect to you, but you can feel my love, as well.. ahh… it’s a good thing to be known for your love, and it makes my heart really warm. That’s how I want to be seen, so thank you.

I always liked Makima. However, I had other Chainsaw Man characters I was more entertained by (since I read as it released, being amused was the most important thing) But I started to love her when the control Devil arc released and we learned her true motivations. She became my favorite Chainsaw Man character. During that year gap after part 1 ended, my love for her grew, and she became one of my favorite characters of all time.

Because, it’s not just about the antagonist Fujimoto wrote. Her fan content frequently had Catholic imagery, and she was a mother. These are two “themes” that are INTENSLEY attractive to me, even back then (it’s increased since 2020!) and are tropes I push onto characters who don’t even fit it, so having it just there for me was incredibly fun. It felt like she was just for me! I didn’t really think too deeply about her past until the last chapter dropped. And then there was nothing. So I was alone with that.

I found myself really loving her in a way that I had only loved one character before (Kaworu Nagisa, and I’m sure the similarities don’t need to be explained in depth) They’re both characters who love humanity. I love humanity. I love people, and it’s tender. So being able to explore this in a character added to it. Then, as I grew up a bit more, I started exploring womanhood through her character. It was cathartic and also interesting for me, because it did not only aid me, but also helped re-contextualize everything about her, and I saw her in a new lens once again, where there were so many parts of her that I hadn’t even peaked in on.

There was a specific art I saw in about 2021 of Makima with her hair down, on her bed. She looks very lonely. It’s a set, and the other drawing is her greeting her dogs at the front of her apartment— night time. It’s really that artwork that dictated who Makima was to me. She was the type of woman who went home to an empty apartment that she paid for. As Part 2 grew separated from what I liked about the series, and as the anime brought in fans who saw her as a sexual object, and her status as a popular “dommy mommy” character cemented, I found myself attaching to her even more, because in a sea of people who didn’t seem to get her at all, I was always wanting to defend her concept. Not her personally. But what made her a “character” in the story and why she had to do the thugs she did, and why she wouldn’t act certain ways and such!

It’s easy for m to attach myself to characters, but not in such a way I do with Makima. I don’t buy merch much ever, but I have 2 Makima figures and 3 pieces of clothing with her on it. That’s a lot for me! I wouldn’t do that with any other character in existence. She has a comforting presence, because I feel I truly understand her heart down to the smallest compartment. She feels like a friend! Just seeing her makes me happy. I understand her, so the “love” I have for her is like an old married couple that are best friends in older age. For other characters, it might be something a little more— violent? I get cuteness aggression a lot. When I say I love a character, I may say insane things like “I want to push them down a flight of stairs”— actually, that’s only when they’re male. I tend to like pathetic male characters I want to be a parent for, and I tend to like female characters I’d want to be the friend of, so for those, I’d say something like “my lovely sweetie pie❤️❤️”

but for Makima, it’s obviously not that way. I don’t make too many sarcastic rude comments about Makima the way I would for other characters I like. O don’t want to, because it’s not true, and it almost hurts me to even think about— like, the type of hurt that’s vulgar and disrespectful. I really do just love her. But I don’t see her as a sweetie pie either, haha. I don’t want violence on her but I also don’t want overwhelming love. Because she is a character that is grounded in reality.

I don’t want to be her friend. I think that’s kind of a foolish concept! I can only understand her like I do because we’re separated, and I can view her objectively like a bug. But because she’s been by my side so long, her concept is familiar, and I find comfort in just the idea of her. I’ve written a lot, but it was an interesting question, so I wanted to explain it as best that I could. Thank you very much for asking it!

#answered ask

61 notes · View notes

johannestevans · 9 months ago

Text

Finding Your Style, Part I: Shape & Silhouette

A deep dive into deciding on your own personal fashion and tailoring your clothes to fit.

Also on Patreon / / Also on Medium / / Leave a tip.

Introduction

Before I start with the actual meat of this piece, I want to establish what this series of guides is not going to be. These guides are going to be about building and cultivating your wardrobe and accessories for you and your preferences.

I have no interest in and will not be going into how to look good (or revoltingly, how to look “slimmer” or similar), how to be fashionable or trendy, or alternatively, how to look unique or dress differently to everybody you know.

I often get frustrated when pieces about cultivating one’s personal style stumble across my dashboards and they advise the reader to pay attention to the latest trends, to make a moodboard, cultivate a capsule wardrobe, and leave it at that — a moodboard can be helpful if you’re a visual thinker, and there’s nothing wrong with a capsule wardrobe as a tool, however.

I have a particular style of dress, I like to play around with a lot of colours and fabrics, a lot of patterns, and a lot of the people around me tell me I dress well and that they enjoy my style: I have never read a style guide that is envisioning a man who dresses like me, or even a man who dresses even close to the way I dress.

When I think of someone’s personal style, I’m talking about aspects of their appearance and the mode in which they clothe and carry themselves that are distinctive to them.

Firstly, this doesn’t mean that they dress uniquely, and like no other person around them.

I know guys who basically dress themselves to match mannequins in particular stores, and they look good for it — when I see them around, even if I haven’t seen those mannequins and don’t shop in the stores they shop from, what makes them distinctive is particular colour palettes, brands, and also a clean-cut, neat style that works really well on a shop mannequin. What they’re wearing obviously isn’t unique, but it is distinctive, and it is a particular visual I associate with them when I see them.

Secondly, when we think of distinctive qualities, I might associate them with a specific style that isn’t inspired by a high street store or particular fashionable brand — people who dress in vintage clothes and are always kind of ’90s or ’70s, or people who dress in lolita or goth or emo or cottagecore or identify with another subculture that has a particular visual signature.

Apart from fashion subcultures, there might be other aspects — yes, specific high street brands, but there are all kinds of other visual signatures like particular patterns (someone who always wears stripes, for example), other brands or media (e.g. someone who wears a lot of stuff printed with anime characters), particular places or hobbies, et cetera. I’m currently fleshing out my wardrobe and trying to find a lot more pieces that are nautical or sailing themed, so there are a lot of anchors, compasses, helm’s wheels, and ships incorporated into my wardrobe.

And thirdly — this is one thing I want to impress very firmly, because far too many pieces that focus on fashion don’t take this into account at all — one of the most distinctive qualities is how much I might recognise a friend’s specific needs for comfort in their style of dress.

I, for example, have a lot of cardigans, jumpers, woollen vests and waistcoats, etc, and in winter will often appear in multiple layers of wool underneath another layer of leather because I get cold so easily; even in summer, I’m often wearing a t-shirt under a collared shirt, sporting a cardigan, or even wearing three-piece suits. I know other people who basically from spring through to late autumn will only ever be wearing one layer, particularly just a t-shirt or long-sleeved shirt, because they overheat so easily.

This is going to be a series of pieces, and I want to focus on a handful of specific points to focus on in cultivating your wardrobe and accessories:

Part I: Shape and Silhouette

Part II: Fabrics and Materials

Part III: Colours and Patterns

Part IV: Garments and their Construction

Part V: Accessories and Details

Part VI: Eras & Epochs, Subcultures & Alternative Looks

Part VII: Thematic Cohesion

Part VIII: Editing and Adding to your Wardrobe

A lot of style guides are written with people in mind who are trying to look good at work, especially at office jobs, and subsequently they assume a certain level of conformity with business casual or other “acceptable” styles in mind, where standing out to any degree is considered in poor taste, but more importantly, where things like personal comfort aren’t taken into account.

Your personal comfort in the clothes you wear, whether that’s to do with your resting temperature, if you feel most comfortable in any specific fabrics or textures, if you feel comfortable under multiple layers or only one, how many pockets you have and how accessible those pockets are, how exposed or free certain parts of your body are, etc, is far more important than virtually any other aspect in selecting your wardrobe.

There are absolutely garments or styles where you might either enjoy the discomfort or think it’s worth withstanding for the visual effect, but that’s really up to you to decide, and anyone who says that you should be uncomfortable on your day-to-day, or that it’s normal and therefore desirable to feel uncomfortable in your own clothes, is a prick.

As a species, we wear clothes to keep our bodies warm and safe from harm, and while we might enjoy looking good or projecting a particular image, our comfort, safety, and our feeling of security in the clothes we’re wearing is no less vital.

Especially if you’re used to dressing in uncomfortable clothes, it can be hard to figure out what you actually do feel comfortable in, and that’s okay, that’s a process.

A lot of us have basically had it embedded into us, after years of conditioning, that there is only one way to dress, one way to exist, and that this is in-keeping with what’s Appropriate or what’s Pretty or in line with any other expectation, and unlearning that is hard, but it’s a process, and it’s possible to work through it.

Shapes & Silhouette

The first thing we often talk about when it comes to fashion, and the first thing a lot of clothes designers sketch out and visualise, is silhouette — if you find that hard to envisage, imagine yourself in whatever outfit is a favourite of yours, that you’re behind a canvas, and you’re being backlit from behind.

Your silhouette is the shadow cast by the shape of your body and your clothes — when someone first enters into a room, when we take in their outfit, we take in the broad strokes of it and the silhouette it casts, the shape of their body.

You might want to cast an initial impression that emphasises particular bodily qualities you’re proudest of, makes you seem taller or shorter than you are, slimmer or fatter, curvier or squarer, softer or more angular.

The problem with a lot of silhouette discussion is that many clothing designers abhor and loathe clothing anyone who isn’t a white, thin cisgender woman: imagining silhouette becomes about imagining a base body that serves as a mannequin and clothes that are draped on her, rather than about imagining a range of body types and different silhouettes that might go with them, complementing or contrasting the base body on which they’re built.

Subsequently, when people talk about clothing for fat people, particularly for fat women, a great deal of emphasis is placed on a silhouette that attempts to disguise or hide the body’s natural shape, whether that means making them seem nebulously slimmer by increasing their perceived height or by some other method, or increasing or decreasing their curviness.

The problem with that, apart from the fact that it relies on a vociferous hatred of fat people, of fat people’s bodies, of body fat in general, an odious bigotry in itself, is that a lot of the time, it doesn’t fucking work.

It’s instead people writing pages upon pages of advice on how to make yourself appear smaller and lesser, capitalising on people’s taught and conditioned self-loathing, and a lot of it is just clickbait. I’m by no means saying it would be ethical or correct if a lot of this advice did work, but the fact is that it doesn’t.

Someone might take your outfit with lots of layers and rounded shapes to it and assume you’re fatter than you in fact are, because multiple layers make you look larger — it could also be that simply wearing those soft fabrics make people think that you’re rounder, which they associate with fatness. In contrast, someone might take an outfit with lots of angles to mean that you’re bigger than you are because when we drape our body with angular clothes, they often work by sticking out from our body and creating corners where they don’t exist — but, people might associate that angularity with a lack of body fat, either with bones or with muscle, and therefore think you are bigger, but less fat.

We live in a fatphobic society where people make a lot of judgements based on how fat they perceive you as being. Because of the aforementioned fatphobic society, we also live in a society where people might associate you with fatness (or some other physical trait they consider negative) because they dislike you.

If you speak loudly or “a lot”, people might perceive you as being fatter than you are — if you barely speak, they might perceive you as being thinner, because you take up less apparent space, no matter what you wear or what shape you present.

There is no way to win, is my point.

You cannot win against bigotry in a fundamentally bigoted society by trying to change subtle perceptions of angle or size or light or shadow, and the people who say that you can are lying. The point of those lies is firstly to sell newspapers and screentime, but the second of them is to make the reader think that a bigoted society’s attitude toward them is their fault, because they weren’t employing enough tricks to deter the bigotry.

When I talk about the varieties of silhouette you might want to attain or aim for in your clothing choices, or how well-fitting or loose a garment might be for you, it should be in line with your preferences and your desires, whether that’s about aesthetic, comfort, or something else.

Photo by cottonbro studio via Pexels, with guide lines added by me.

When envisioning your silhouette, the key points of your body might be:

your head

your shoulders

your waist and hips

your feet

This depends on your body shape and also on the sorts of outfits you’re wearing — it might change for you depending on the clothes you’re wearing on a given day, or you might cut a drastically different silhouette in boymode versus girlmode, or in summer versus winter, etc.

Think of these as anchor points on which your clothing or accessories are draped over or mounted from, almost like you might envision armour slots in a videogame. When you envision your silhouette, it’s how your body immediately appears when lit from behind — your legs and arms aren’t irrelevant here, and the shape of sleeves, trousers, and skirts will absolutely contribute to your silhouette, but depending on your body in motion or how you stand, these won’t always be immediately distinctive, whereas your head and torso will be.

As well as being the place where your clothes drape from, these might be the points where your most important accessories might be placed — headbands or hats, shoulder clasps or shawls or collar pins and such, belt buckles or suspender clips, and your shoes or boots. These points become the focus to which the eye is drawn because they’ll be the most static parts of the body, whereas other parts in between might jiggle or flow.

These points aren’t part of some sort of rule you have to follow — it’s more of a handy shorthand to help train your eye into seeing the particular shapes each part of someone’s body cuts, and what the overall effect is, and how much you like or dislike the effect.

You might feel that some of these anchor points, when emphasised or de-emphasised, add or take away from your dysphoria or your general self-esteem, make you feel more feminine or masculine, just look really fucking cool or really hot, etc. Think about those when you start sketching out your shapes in your head and what you like best.

When you really want to imagine a silhouette, do what I did with the first three images — there’s the outfit itself, I’ve drawn the anchors at the top of the head, the top of the shoulders, the waist, and then the feet. Contrast that silhouette with this image:

Photo by Becerra Govea Photo via Pexels, with guidelines added by me.

This person has a different hair style, but see how with the shape of the dress, the waistline is drawn in compared to their shoulders, and would be even if they weren’t posed with their elbows outward? See how their waist appears to be smaller in contrast with the wide sweep of the thickly layered, loose skirts?

A useful exercise when thinking about a silhouette you like is to draw these anchor points and then either draw in lines following the outside of the body’s / clothing’s shape, or you can separate into each section and think about the simplest shape that silhouette can be boiled down to: a circle, a square, a triangle, a straight line.

In the two images I’ve indicated, I’ve focused on the waist as an anchor point because it’s the base of the suit jacket and then where this dress is drawn in — on your body, you might find that somewhere else on your pelvis is better for you to draw the line.

Have a look at this TikTok and look at all these bodies in motion, the clothes they’re wearing, how much skin is or isn’t being revealed, how loose or fixed each piece of clothing is, how much contrast is or isn’t present in the different shapes on show. Think about each different silhouette and how different or similar they are to one another.

(A TikTok of an NYFW fashion show in September from Remi Jo on TikTok.)

Look for the motion in these garments and in these people’s bodies — the parts that jiggle, that flow, that have free motion — and contrast them with the bits of their garments or bodies that remain more static. Many of these garments bare skin or flesh, and many of them cover a lot up, depending on the garment’s design — look at shoulder pieces, busts, waists, skirts, hemlines, sleeves. If a garment stands out to you as pleasing, cut it up in your mind and look at each piece of it individually before you consider the whole again, see what stands out most to you.

Generally, for modern men’s tailoring, the focus is often on the lower-slung hips rather than on the higher waist. If you’ve got a squarer body, your waist and hips might be the same or almost the same width, to the point you have no big distinguishing angle between the two points — you might want to think of your anchor point as at the base of your hips, in line with your backside; you might want to think of it as at the absolute high point of your waist if you tend to very high-waisted trousers or skirts.

If you’re fatter and have a significant overhang to your belly, depending on whether you like to wear your waistband underneath the overhang and have your belly rest on top / over it, or if you wear looser clothes or generally keep your belly within the waistband, for example under your dress or your skirt, this might change how you think about your silhouette too.

You might still be looking from the tops of your shoulders, but then the end of that “shape” might be in line with your backside or your upper thigh instead because that’s where you can see the lowest part of your belly in your trousers or leggings, or in a maxi dress, it might be a straight (or mostly straight) line from your shoulder down to your feet. Alternatively, rather than focusing on your hips or specifically where your waist is, you might like to make sure your middle point is at the widest point of your belly — if you’re wearing a belt, you might like the belt buckle to rest in the middle point there, or have the waistband of your skirt there so that you have the maximum flow to the skirt.

And remember, as I said about how the most key points might be different depending on what sort of outfit you’re wearing or what the occasion is, consider how much you’re going to be sitting down or from what angle you’re going to be viewed by others.

If you’re generally going to be sitting down while wearing a particular outfit, your midpoints at the waist might be less important to you than your shoulders and your feet — and if you’re going to be viewed significantly from above or below (for example, if you’re on stage or performing in a theatre), or from a further distance, this might make a difference to what key points you want to focus on.

If you use a wheelchair, depending on how big your wheelchair is compared to you in terms of its back and shape, you might like to take its angles and colours in complement to your outfit — if you use a cane or crutches, or if you wear a prosthetic limb for some events but not others, you might want to consider the asymmetry or the squarer shapes cut by your mobility aids.

Similarly, if you’re in costume and you’re wearing or using a really important prop like a stave or wand, some sort of weapon in the hand or slung on the belt or worn in some sort of other holster, you might want to employ similar complementary or perpendicular angles.

For example, if you’re wearing something that’s really angular and is going to make one shoulder, side of your head, or side of your waist/belly seem much higher than the other side, you might want to match that angular shift to the side you don’t have a limb or use a cane or have a prop to continue that exaggerated angle — you might want to make it go to the opposite way to offset the imbalance.

I’ve talked a lot above about how to observe and identify shapes and silhouettes in outfits you’re observing, but only a little bit about how to actually construct and cast them.

For a lot of people, the shadow cast by your head is going to be the same every day depending on your haircut or hairstyle: if you have shorter hair, you’re unlikely to change it much on the day to day in a way that will be noticeable at a glance.

If you do have longer hair or you change your style regularly, you can think about the shape that your head is casting in contrast to your outfit — if you alternate, for example, between having a big ‘fro and braids or twists that are much tighter to the head or are gathered at the back of your neck, those will be pretty dramatic differences to your silhouette; ditto if you go between different ponytails or braids and different up-dos, whether that’s a bun or gathered braid or similar.

If you wear hats and/or wear headscarves, those will make a big difference too — a beanie casts a very different shadow to a Panama hat, different again to a boater, a baseball cap, or a bandana.

A more structured hat or other garment for the head — a tiara or crown, for example, or more structured hair styles that come out from the head such as bantu knots or structured wigs and up-dos, will be more static; looser hats, scarves, and loose-worn hair will have more flow and wave when you move, and will stay in motion as you walk or even as you turn your head.

How visible do you want your neck to be? The lines of your jaw, your chin, your ears (and earrings), your brow, the nape of your neck? Do you enjoy the sensation of fabric or your own longer hair touching the tops of your shoulders, or being a weight on your back? Do you need the shade from your bangs or longer fringe, or that a structured hat will give you?

From your head we can jump to the broader part of your actual outfit or the garment that covers most of your body.

Your shoulders and your hips / waist / the widest point of your belly are where the garments you wear are going to rest — shirts, jackets, vests, coats, all of these are going to sit on your shoulders and either cling closely to your body or hang over it; loose fitting trousers and any sort of kilt or skirt are going to hang off your hips or the widest point of your middle.

Depending on your outfit and how your legs are clad, your feet might not actually be particularly noticeable — if you’re wearing shorts or anything with a shorter skirt, more attention is going to be drawn to the feet in contrast to your legs, ditto any sort of skinny trouser, legging, or tights. This goes especially for bigger boots, trainers/sneakers, and various heels.

MSCHF’s newest crowd pleaser, the Big Red Boot, is distinctive because the Big Red Boots are extremely shaped like boots, but not particularly like feet.

And after this point, you might have different points entirely that you construct away from your body — big earrings can be a point of interest; the hem of a shorter skirt, for example, might stop at your mid-thigh or knee, and that might be at an angle with your shoes; if you wear flared trousers like I tend to, you might create another point of contrast at your knee or at the mid calf.

Some points to consider are:

Which parts of your body or your shape do you enjoy most, want to most emphasise, or want to draw most attention to? Are there any parts of your body or your shape you feel less comfortable showing or emphasising, and would like to draw attention from?

Are there any silhouettes, for any gender, that you feel most drawn to and interested in? For example, do you particularly like the shape cut by certain styles of suits, robes, dresses, or other garments? What points do you like most, are most drawn to? What points are the same from outfit to outfit?

Think of cartoons and other animated series you like or have enjoyed, which normally have distinct styles and place emphasis on certain body parts or shapes for each characters. Do any particularly appeal to you? Do any characters look especially fun or cool compared to others, because of the style they’re drawn in or what garments or armour they’re drawn in? Cartoons will show an extreme, but they might help you visualise something you’re particularly drawn to because the extremity makes it so visible.

Apart from the shoulders, middle, head, and feet, do you want to create any further points of interest? Draw attention to your elbow or knees, dangling earrings, shift the silhouette of your feet by elevating your heel or sole?

Do you want your garments to hang from your body and be loose, or do you want them to be more tightly tailored? A garment that “hangs” will generally rest on your shoulders or around your middle and then be looser or boxier — a more fitted garment will hug tighter to the lines and curves of your body, and the extent to which will depend on the fabric weight and the construction of the garment.

How much is your silhouette different in motion, standing, seated, or otherwise? How much does it change with different mobility aids, or in different seats, while doing different activities?

And that’s it for that piece!

I am going to go through the other parts of this bit by bit — originally I was going to do this as one huge deep dive, but it just became untenable in terms of length. Let me know what you think, which bits are most helpful, and please feel free to mention anything you’d particularly want me to cover in the other pieces as I go through them.

#trans fashion #fashion #musings #guide

183 notes · View notes

therhythmafterthesummer · 1 year ago

Text

Are You There, Wolf? (M) ~Lee Know

Pairing: Werewolf!Minho x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Fluff | Best Friends to Lovers Word Count: ~8k | AO3 Synopsis: Minho had always deemed himself a bit of a weirdo. In his humble opinion, he’d only become even weirder with time, especially after he acquired his supernatural… condition. He’d never cared much about it, not when you’d always been there for him, and hopefully you would always be. [This is an instalment of my WereRoomies series. You don’t particularly need to read the other instalments related to Minho to understand this, but it’ll add more depth to the story if you do, so I highly recommend it~]. Warnings: Minho’s POV · mentions of shooting guns [it’s an off-handed comment made by Minho, nothing serious, but figured i’d put a warning] · mentions of gambling · mentions of cheating [but no one cheated] · mentions of blood, injuries, and violence · near death experiences · Minho was dumb and in denial for a long while · mentions and depictions of monster fucking shenanigans · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).

Author’s Note: this originally started as a smutty drabble inspired by an ask from an anon… somehow it grew hands and beat me up and made me black out and now we’ve got a full instalment. a chunk of it is just stuff that happened in other instalments, but with Minho’s input. hope you enjoy ! special thanks to @notastraykid for reading this and letting me know it wasn’t the worst piece of literature she’s ever read.

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Minho's previous WereRoomies instalments: Camping With Wolves & Dog Unleashed

Smut Warnings: mentions of oral · somnophilia [all acts related to it are consensual] · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but reader is presumed to be on birth control] · creampie

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Minho always believed himself to be a rational man. He was also an animal, yes. But his animal instincts were, essentially, stunted.

He wasn’t sure if it was because he was born human and turned into a werewolf when he was very young, or if there was something wrong with him in general–he honestly wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case.

Jisung–who’d been the first other werewolf Minho ever befriended–believed it to be the first option. He had encouraged Minho to go to a specialist and ask, but Minho never really paid much attention to it.

He figured that, as long as he didn’t feel ill or that he didn’t hurt anyone around him, it didn’t really matter.

However, just how many psychologists and therapists by trade seemed to choose that career path in order to understand their own brains and behaviours, sometimes he wondered if his own inability to understand his animal needs was what fully drove him into becoming a vet.

Sure, he had always cared for animal’s safety, he always knew one too many facts about many different critters, and with all the injured animals that seemed to come his way when he was a kid, he had spent more time at the vet’s office than he did in his own home. He supposed all things combined played a role in his career choice, and that had certainly helped him understand himself a little better… kind of.

Minho was a simple man. A man that, in a sick twist of fate, ended up becoming the dictionary definition of a monster.

He’d admit that for a long time, he blamed himself for what had happened to him. ‘Maybe if I hadn’t taken that detour through the woods that time I wouldn’t have been turned’, ‘Maybe if I had been paying attention to my surroundings I wouldn’t have been bit’, ‘Maybe I did something horrible in a past life or this one to warrant such an event’, he’d always think about these things whenever the pains and aches caused by his condition were a bit too strong to bear.

It took him an even longer time to accept the fact that it hadn’t been his fault at all. Nothing could’ve ever prepared him for the situation. He would’ve never been able to predict that a giant wolf would come out of nowhere and bite him completely unprompted.

To this day, over ten years later, Minho still couldn’t remember what the wolf looked like.

It all happened so fast… All he could remember was the fuzzy canine shape, the sound of growls and snarls and of his own bones cracking inside his body, along with the searing pain that spread from the gash that the creature had left on his side.

He couldn’t remember the bleeding, or the amount of time he spent laying on the forest ground, or even the moment he was eventually found. One second he was in an immense amount of pain, and the next he was completely fine, as if nothing had happened, laying on a hospital bed with his best friend hugging him and sobbing against his chest.

Minho could’ve never imagined that that event in the woods would change the way he interacted with the world forever.

One seemingly normal evening after what he thought had been ‘an accident’, while he was hanging out in his best friend’s home, doing their weekly watch of Kamen Rider, it was like something suddenly started rattling inside of him. Like an itch one can’t seem to scratch satisfactorily.

He couldn’t breathe, his joints hurt, all his muscles seemed to burn, and before he knew it, he was feeling parts of his body he had never felt before. His vision felt different, his sense of smell was overwhelmed, and although his surroundings were familiar, it was almost like he was seeing them from someone else’s perspective.

Needless to say, he was having a full on meltdown right then and there. Especially when he caught what he thought would be a glimpse of himself on a reflective surface, and what he saw instead was a dog… Well, more accurately, a wolf.

To this day, he was very grateful that it all happened while you, his best friend, were there with him. Minho honestly wasn’t sure how he would’ve reacted had he been on his own. He could still remember the panic he felt, how much he was crying, how much you were crying. Things would’ve probably been very different if you hadn’t hugged him tight and reassured him time and time again that you’d be there for him… That you wanted to figure this out together.

When he had finally understood what had happened to him in the woods, and after many trips to the local library to do some digging on the internet, you both came to the conclusion that the most logical explanation to his newfound condition was that he was now afflicted with lycanthropy… And it wasn’t the psychological kind.

Which was crazy.

Completely absurd.

But what seemed to be sourced in fantasy and myths was literally the only thing that matched his symptoms perfectly.

Everything was confusing for a long time after that. Everything was too loud, too bright, too intense… His already sensitive senses seemed to be overstimulated all day, every day–even worse than before–and he could hardly cope.

He could hear conversations that were happening metres away from him, he could hear people’s breathing and their heartbeats and sometimes other internal organs as well… It was honestly driving him a little bit insane.

Minho realised very quickly that having a supernaturally enhanced sense of smell when he was starting high school was quite possibly one of the worst things to ever happen to him. Having been turned into a werewolf was hard enough on its own, now he had to deal with teenagers that seemed to hold a grudge against soap.

When it all got too overwhelming, he simply got close to you. As close as he could. He was sure he had memorised the rhythm of your heartbeat at this point, and the constant, familiar sound always seemed to help ease his sour mood.

‘Have you gotten a new perfume? Or a new fabric softener?’ He couldn’t help but ask one day. He’d noticed recently that there seemed to be a scent of lavender lingering around him whenever you were close. He didn’t mind. In fact, it actually comforted him quite a bit.

‘You know I don’t use fabric softener, dummy. And no, I haven’t gotten a new perfume’, your answer puzzled him a bit, but it wasn’t until a handful of months later, when he finally met Jisung, that he understood what that lavender scent was.

When Minho first met Jisung, he was honestly a bit surprised. Mostly because the second Jisung was within his radius, it was almost like he could tell the younger boy was a werewolf, too. There was something about the smell of roses and cotton radiating from Jisung that just gave it away, although Minho didn’t know how, or why.

Jisung quickly became an integral part of his friend group–although, to be fair, ‘group’ was a big word to use, considering you were the only real friend Minho had, and the one he consistently hung out with. What used to be a simple pair of weirdos became a trio of weirdos, and Minho was genuinely happy about that.

He immediately felt like he could trust Jisung, and in the long run, Minho was grateful for his presence. Not only because Jisung was funny and eloquent and he also enjoyed watching niche TV shows, but also because Jisung helped him understand this unexplored side of him.

‘You’re an alpha, clearly’, Jisung told Minho once. As if that meant something important. ‘Your scent is kind of… Like, you smell of vanilla and a recently lit bonfire. Somehow very alpha-like, but milder than what I’m used to, I suppose…’

Jisung explained to him all these werewolf designations of alphas, betas, and omegas that were based on a werewolf’s inherent nature… He explained what scents were, how to tell what status a wolf had based on their scent, and when he confirmed that humans did, in fact, also have a scent, Minho just knew then that that lavender scent he always smelt when you were close was simply your natural scent. Just like cotton and roses was Jisung’s.

Meeting Jisung–aside from meeting you–was possibly one of the best things that could’ve ever happened to Minho. Not only did Jisung become one of his best friends in this whole wide world, not only did he help Minho understand his newfound nature, but also, thanks to him, Minho was finally able to find a family of his own.

Being honest, in his hometown, Minho didn’t have anyone but you. His mother barely even gave him the time of day–mostly because she was busy working two or three jobs to support them both.

When his now step-dad came into the picture, money was no longer a problem, but by that point Minho had already been turned, and that, coupled with the fact that his step-dad wasn’t really that good of a man, was enough for him to distance himself from his relatives.

Minho also had Jisung for a while, but he eventually left town because his entire pack was moving out. That was fine, he was sure they would meet again eventually. Besides, technology around that time made it so it was hardly possible to not be in contact with someone.

After high school, when Minho finally decided to pursue higher education–to pursue his dream of becoming a vet–the university he wanted to study in was, coincidentally, in the same area where Jisung was living then. And not only was Jisung living there, he was in a pack. A different one from his childhood one.

Back in the early stages of his friendship with Jisung, he had explained to Minho that werewolves usually lived in packs, just like regular wolves did. Jisung’s childhood pack didn’t treat omegas that well, from what Minho could recall. So, being an omega himself, Jisung always felt like a bit of an outcast. The fact that he had found a pack where he was actually comfortable was a big deal, and Minho was genuinely happy for his friend.

Even though the pack was essentially only three young wolves, Jisung always spoke highly of his two other packmates. ‘Chris and Changbin are amazing people, dude. Never met wolves like them aside from, like… you. I think you’d be a great addition to our pack, and Chris agrees! Come meet them, you won’t regret it’.

And he didn’t regret it. Not one bit. If anything, joining Chris’ pack, becoming close to him and Changbin to help them lead it, was the third best thing that could’ve ever happened to Minho.

‘Changbin’s my right hand. Although it doesn’t make much sense to have a second in command when we’re, like, three dudes only, I feel like at any point more people could join us, so I like to be prepared’, Chris, the leader–the alpha–of that pack of Jisung’s wasn’t that much older than Minho, but there was something about him that exuded leadership and comfort. It was so obvious even someone like Minho, who wasn’t that in touch with his wolf instincts, was able to tell this man was a real alpha.

‘It’s very customary for the alpha of the pack to have at least two other people next to them to deal with all possible pack matters, and Jisung believes you might be suitable for that. He said, and I quote, that you have a heart of gold. He vouches for you, and I trust him, so if you want to join and help me out, you’re more than welcome to. Hell, you’re welcome even if you don’t want to help me lead specifically, but it’s important you know that as a pack, we must always look out for each other’, Chris’ proposal was straight forward. No matter what role Minho would fill in, he was welcome to join them.

Being honest with himself, Minho wasn’t really that much of a leader–not in his opinion, at least–but the prospect of joining a pack seemed to tickle something on the back of his mind. He supposed it was one of those instinctual things he didn’t understand well, but, in a way, Chris made him feel reassured, so he told him he’d be happy to join and help him out however he could. With one condition, though.

‘You see, I’ve got my best friend… Not sure if Jisung has told you about her. She’s human, and she’s very important to me. If joining your pack of werewolves means I can’t see her anymore then I’m not doing it’, Minho loved Jisung, and he had a good impression of Chris and Changbin, but, truly, if joining them meant he had to leave you behind, he’d much rather stay on his own.

He knew from Jisung that the moment you moved into a werewolf den, a lot of decisions had to involve the alpha’s approval, and considering you were human, Minho had a genuine fear of Chris telling him that humans simply weren’t allowed. He’d honestly much rather shoot himself in the leg than have to cut ties with you. You’d been the only constant in his life, and losing you was something he just couldn’t afford. You meant too much to him. Maybe more than he would’ve liked to admit back then.

Thankfully, Chris didn’t seem to have major issues with that. If anything, all he did was ask to meet you before you could stay at his den, and as long as you were someone that could be trusted, he wouldn’t have any problems with your presence at the den. That was fine, there was no doubt in Minho’s mind that Chris would like you and see just how nice you were.

He had obviously been right. Your first time meeting Chris couldn’t have gone more smoothly. Not even fifteen minutes passed and he was already dragging Minho to the side and telling him it was all good.

‘I think she’s nice. It’s fine by me if your kitten drops by or stays over whenever you guys want’, Chris had patted him on the back, with a teasing grin on his face, taking special care to stress the word kitten–which was a nickname Minho had given you randomly one day years ago while trying to cheer you up.

Giving you that nickname had been a moment of weakness, a moment in which he also had been sad and his inhibitions had lowered a bit. The pet name just fell out of his mouth, it had practically been a perfect textbook definition of a Freudian slip, considering Minho had, quite stupidly, developed a crush on you by then.

Chris was a good person, but he also seemed to enjoy teasing Minho whenever his more than obvious crush presented itself, even when Minho himself was in denial about it.

Minho was convinced you didn’t feel anything other than platonic love towards him, so he always tried to delude himself into thinking he absolutely didn’t have a crush on you. You were his best friend, one of the most important people in his life, and he would never risk losing you over what he believed to be unrequited feelings.

Sometimes, though, it was almost impossible not to think about you in ways that would definitely be considered inappropriate. It was easy in his day to day life, but, twice a year, he had to face the fact that his feelings for you went beyond your friendship…

Minho was well aware that he was a weird guy. Throughout his life, he had only ever cared about animals, Kamen Rider, and you and Jisung. He could hardly hold a normal, civil conversation if it didn’t involve any of those things, he said things and had odd habits that could potentially put off people around him, and that was only on his human side. His wolf side was a whole other can of worms.

He already had a hard time understanding his basic human needs, and that seemed to triple when it came to his animal needs. For a long time he couldn’t tell when he needed to go on a run, or when he was in a bad mood because of a weird scent around him, and no need to even get started on whatever the hell was happening with his ruts…

Figuring out that he now had to go through days of unbearable horniness was by far one of the weirdest experiences Minho ever had to deal with during this whole ‘being turned into a half animal’ thing. After he reached sexual maturity, twice a year, he had a time period of around four to five days when every single one of his instincts and senses pulled him into a trance-like state in which all he wanted to do was fuck.

But not only did he want to fuck… He specifically wanted to breed someone. And even more specifically, he wanted to breed you.

It was awful. The whole ordeal was physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausting.

The first time he went into rut, he was sure the pain he was feeling came close to the one he briefly felt back when he had been bit and turned. His body was increasingly warm, he was sweating buckets, his cock was hard for an almost criminal amount of time, and nothing he did made it better.

Even if he managed to make himself come, it barely helped him feel relieved. If anything, it got him more frustrated, to the point where he would start breaking things around him–both intentionally and unintentionally.

The worst part of going into rut, though, was the thoughts he had throughout those days. He could only think of you. Of kissing you, of tasting those utmost sensitive areas of your body, of bending you over and ramming himself into you until he got tied to you and got to fill you to the brim with his cum…

Logic was something that didn’t exist for him in this time period, so those thoughts ran freely in his mind for the duration of his rut… thoughts that he had to come face to face once his rut subsided and he could think like a human again instead of a horny dog.

Needless to say, Minho couldn’t look at your face for a whole month after he went through his first rut. He was haunted by the images his imagination had produced at the time, and he was convinced you didn’t deserve that, that he had somehow broken your trust. It was something he never spoke about with anyone. Not even Jisung. He made a vow to keep this a secret in order to protect your friendship.

Little did Minho know that his friendship with you didn’t need to be protected from anything…

Many years after his first rut, sharing a bed with you during one fateful trip to the woods with the whole pack, was all it took for the line of your friendship to blur completely. Minho had been in denial about his feelings for so long, he had been completely blind to your feelings.

That night, with his senses enhanced by the moon, with his animal instincts bubbling to the forefront of his human mind, that need for you seemed to be impossible to ignore. While he laid with you on that bed, under the covers, being your big spoon, he couldn’t help but get lost in how fast your heart was beating the tighter he hugged you, he was drowning in your lavender scent, and he genuinely didn’t want to be rescued.

You staring at his mouth for a moment too long while he hovered over you had suddenly ignited a spark of hope deep within him. That, added to your increased heart rate, and what he couldn’t mistake for anything other than arousal lingering in your scent, was quickly making him delirious.

‘Kitten… Why are you… Why are you looking at my mouth?’

‘Just thinking…’

‘About?’

‘Things I should not be thinking about’.

After the words came out of your mouth, and with all the sensory inputs around him, Minho suddenly felt so incredibly stupid.

How had he never noticed that your body seemed to react to him in the same ways his did to you? How long had it been doing that? He had been blindsided by his own desperate attempts to not drive you away from him with his feelings, he had never noticed you looking at him in the same way he looked at you.

He wasn’t sure if it had been the moon reinforcing his stunted instincts just enough to enhance his questionable sense of awareness, but as he looked at you, as he saw just how blown your pupils were, as he watched you stare at his mouth, all caution flew out the window. For once, he decided to take a chance, and the moment his lips made contact with yours, the moment the tiniest of moans left your mouth with the contact, he just knew he had made the right choice.

Kissing you, after so many years of trying not to think of what it would feel like, was even better than he could’ve ever imagined. Minho was ravenous, desperate to feel as much of you as he possibly could, and you, very clearly, were in a similar state.

You both agreed–while still kissing, if he might add–that you needed to discuss the situation, but, admittedly, neither of you wanted to stop. So you didn’t, but only after reaching a compromise to talk about it later.

Minho honestly couldn’t even tell how many times you both had sex that night. It seemed like he’d entered a time pocket in which the only thing that mattered was indulging in each other’s body as many times as you possibly could.

By the time you were both thoroughly satisfied, he simply hugged you close under the covers, relishing the feel of your bare skin against his, relishing the feel of your head on his chest and his arms around your frame. Hugging you to sleep, especially this intimately, was everything he could’ve ever hoped for.

It wasn’t like he’d never hugged you to sleep. He’d shared a bed with you many times in the past, but doing it after having your lips on his, after knowing how it felt like to be inside you, and the mere idea that you reciprocated his feelings, was enough to make him fall asleep smiling to himself like a fool.

Even the next morning, when Minho woke up, still very much naked, when he turned around to find you already awake and looking at him, he couldn’t help but smile like a fool once again. Especially not when you were smiling so bright yourself.

“Morning”, you mumbled, immediately shuffling closer so you could tuck your head under his chin and hug his waist.

“Morning, kitten”, Minho pressed a kiss to the top of your head and hugged you even closer, slotting one of his legs between yours to further tangle your limbs together.

You just hummed, nuzzling his neck before you started to press kisses on it. Your soft lips on his skin sent a shiver down his spine, which certainly didn’t help ease the effects of morning wood.

Minho was drowsy, maybe even still horny, but he needed to have this conversation with you, or he was sure he’d explode. “Can we talk about it now?”

You pulled yourself away from his neck to look him in the eyes. Reaching forward with your hand, you pushed his hair out of his eyes, and the movement made them fall shut. “What do you wanna talk about?”

You kept playing with his hair for a bit, then traced the features of his face with the pad of one of your fingers, until his eyes opened again.

“I need to know where we go from here”.

You took a deep breath, mulling his words. Finally, you retracted your hand from his face to hold his hand instead. “Minho, I let you do things to me last night that I’ve never let anyone else do. I don’t know about you, but I hope where we go from here is a relationship”.

Minho couldn’t help but wonder then if he would ever stop smiling like a fool after all this. “So you’re my girlfriend now? Is this what we’re doing?”

“Only if you’re my boyfriend”, you chuckled, leaning in to press a brief kiss on his cheek.

Minho hugged your waist, and he pulled you closer into him. “Mmm… Your ex is gonna have a field day if he ever finds out”.

Your ex had spent the last leg of your relationship with him convinced you had cheated on him with Minho. During the big fight that led to your breakup, he had told you how obvious it was that Minho had feelings for you. At the time you just dumped his ass, and Minho, Jisung, and you spent a whole evening just dragging his name through the mud.

That relationship didn’t last long anyway. He was probably, in Minho’s opinion, the worst partner you had ever had. He was insecure, misogynistic, and manipulative. You hadn’t cheated on him, but Minho supposed there was one thing he had been right about… he did have feelings for you back then.

You scoffed at the mention of your ex, rolling your eyes. “Just like your ex probably will, too”.

Ah, Minho’s ex… It had been a long time since Minho had been in a relationship, but how could he forget the ex that made him choose between him and you?

He could admit it was an asshole move to be involved romantically with someone while having feelings for someone else, but back then he was so deep in denial he couldn’t even acknowledge what he felt for you. Regardless, you were still his friend, and he’d never choose anyone else over one of his friends. In his opinion, someone that cared about him would never make him choose in the first place.

“I guess we’ll have to let them froth at the mouth with rage and believe whatever they want to believe. That is, if they still care”, Minho chuckled, rolling you on your back to start pressing kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

That seemingly innocent act of smothering your face with kisses turned into a much less innocent mess of lips and tongues. Minho came to find out that making out with you was absolutely exhilarating, especially when it ended with his mouth between your legs.

Fucking you that morning might’ve not been the smartest move to make when you both were about to walk into a kitchen full of people with enhanced senses, but Minho figured that if anyone commented on it, he didn’t care. It wasn’t like he was going to keep it a secret, anyway.

Although, he’d admit that having Jisung scream it to everyone in the room caught him off guard. Just like learning that everyone had placed bets on whether Minho and you would get together last night also caught him off guard.

He figured he deserved that last one, considering he himself had also gotten the rest of the pack to place bets on whether Chris and his girlfriend would fuck last night or not…

In any case, other than the bet, the whole pack seemed to seamlessly embrace this new dynamic between you and Minho. After all, starting a relationship with you didn’t change things much.

You still lived almost an hour away from him, you still encouraged him to indulge in his interests, you still talked every day… If anything, the only major difference was that you met more frequently now. Seeing you weekly instead of monthly was certainly an improvement.

It was kind of amusing to Minho how everything was almost the same. He still took you places, still held your hand and hugged you and brushed your hair out of your face whenever he felt like it, but now he could let his fingers linger on your skin for longer, he could lean in and press a kiss wherever he wanted on your face, and, at the end of the day, he could take you home and fuck you dumb for as long as you’d let him.

There was only one thing, though, that seemed to be a problem… It was something he didn’t really want to acknowledge, but he knew would explode on his face at some point.

Minho was an animal.

Eventually, he’d go into rut, and knowing you, he was sure you’d want to help him go through it.

Minho had never spoken to you about his ruts, but he knew you’d learnt a great deal about it from the other girls at the den as well as Jisung. You’d never brought it up to him before, and he was sure it was because you simply knew he didn’t want to talk about it.

Now that you were his girlfriend, it was only a matter of time before he’d have to face this problem head on. Because that was what this whole thing was to Minho… a problem.

Even if during his rut all he could think about was you, he usually got violent. Very violent.

He’d punch walls and break numerous pieces of furniture and appliances, and having you there with him could put you at risk of getting caught in the cross-fire. If he ever hurt you, Minho would never, ever forgive himself. Especially when he just knew you would. You would make excuses for him, you’d enable him and his animal ways like you always did, and he just didn’t want to put you in that position.

Granted, he should’ve probably told you all this, and he had been hyping himself up to do it, but you had been faster than him. The night you finally asked him about his rut he had been severely unprepared to handle the situation.

Minho told you he wouldn’t spend his rut with you. He could’ve probably worded it better, but before he knew it the situation escalated and you were having an argument and he had unintentionally made you feel unwanted, which was just so far from reality…

He wanted to tell you just how much he wanted you, but before he could you’d put space between yourselves and left him there on his own. It was late at night when it happened, but he wasn’t necessarily worried for your safety when you left, because he just knew you’d either go to one of the girls’ flats or to Jisung’s.

Forty minutes after the whole ordeal, he received a text from Jisung confirming his suspicions. The younger wolf told him you were at his place and that he’d take care of you for the night, which Minho was immensely grateful for.

He spent the entire night tossing and turning, wondering how to best word his predicament so he wouldn’t inadvertently hurt you and make you feel unwanted again. Essentially, his reservations when it came to spending his rut with you had nothing to do with you, and all to do with him.

So, the next morning, he made his way to Jisung’s and waited patiently for you to wake up. Jisung had given him a rundown of what had happened the night before, without revealing too much of what you’d told him since he usually liked to keep your conversations as private as possible–just like he kept the conversations he had with Minho as private as possible whenever he spoke to you.

So, when you woke up, Minho immediately explained the situation. He confessed to you how he’d always wanted you, how he couldn’t stop thinking about you whenever he went into rut, and how he got incredibly violent during that time period, so violent he feared he would harm you in any way.

You understood, of course. You always did.

You apologised for jumping to conclusions, and for forcing him to talk about something when he was clearly not ready to do it, which he appreciated. He also apologised for not communicating properly, an apology that you also seemed to accept. At the end of the day, he understood why the whole thing happened in the first place, and he made a mental note to try and not keep things like these from you ever again.

Funny thing, how the universe always seems to play with people like they were little pieces in a funky little game.

When Minho did go into rut, he was so out of it he completely forgot to let you or anyone else know. You had a tendency to drop by his place unannounced, which he didn’t mind, but that day, it was far from ideal, to say the least.

He was sweating, frustrated, in pain, and the second he heard the beeps of the front door’s lock and the smell of your scent hit him, he just lost it.

It was all a blur after that. He tried to hold back, to tell you to leave, but you didn’t. Of course you wouldn’t leave…

To his surprise, that violence that seemed to seep out of him whenever he went into rut wasn’t there. His thoughts were plagued with only you and your lavender scent and the need to pleasure you and to pump you full of his pups.

When he finally managed to do all that, he quickly realised that he’d only ever been violent because he couldn’t have you. In retrospect, he should’ve known. But he’d proven to be tone deaf enough to not understand what his needs were, and this clearly wasn’t an exception.

Nothing had felt quite as fulfilling as spending that rut with you. It was all he’d ever wanted and more. His almost endless supply of cum, his knot, his insatiable need to fuck and fuck and fuck… You’d taken it all like a champ, and even when he wasn’t that in tune with his inner wolf, he could still feel just how proud it was, how proud he was of you.

The word mate kept repeating over and over in his mind the entire time, and he supposed you were his mate, all things considered.

Forever was a big word, but Minho figured that, at least at that point in time, he couldn’t ever imagine his life with anyone else. Especially not now that you were finally sharing your feelings with each other after years and years of pining.

For all he knew, anything that could have potentially been a problem in his relationship with you had been addressed after that. Minho was happy, you were happy, and it all seemed to have taken its natural course.

Except for one maybe not so small thing…

Minho wanted you to move in with him. He’d honestly wanted it since before you got together. He missed you often, and he wanted to spend as much time with you as possible.

The distance during the week was starting to stress him out way more than he’d like to admit, and even if he’d been slowly making space in his flat for you, he knew he’d ask you sooner or later. He hadn’t brought the topic up after you got together because he knew your job was important to you, and moving in with him would probably mean you’d have to quit and find something else closer to where the den was.

He could offer to support you financially, but he just knew you wouldn’t have wanted that. The second you’d started working and being financially independent, you couldn’t imagine ever having to rely on someone else–that was what you had told him all those years ago, at least…

You moving in with him made so much sense, though. Some weekends, Minho would go over to your place, but you’d told him several times that you preferred his home over yours. You’d told him it was more lively, that you enjoyed the presence of the other pack members, and that the only thing you genuinely liked about your flat was that Sir Percival was in it.

Sir Percival was your elderly cat that you adopted when you were a child. He was one of the many cats Minho had rescued, and he was probably the reason you ever spoke to Minho in the first place. Back then, the day you met, you approached him only because he was trying to save Sir Percival’s entire litter that had been abandoned by the side of the road.

So, yes. You moving in with him to Chris’ den just made all the sense in the world to him. Especially at moments like these.

Whenever Minho got to lay on your bed like he was doing now, he could certainly understand why you felt that his flat was more homely. You hardly had any decor in your room, and the whole flat was in a similar state. You never particularly liked this place in the first place, but you stayed because it was close to work and rent was relatively cheap.

‘I’ll probably move out soon, so no need to go all in on the decoration’, you’d told Minho years ago when you moved in. You kept putting it off, and now here this place was, void of anything that would highlight your wonderful personality other than the cat toys littering the floor, and the cat tower in the corner of your living room.

Whenever Minho came over, Sir Percival always avoided coming to your room unless it was absolutely necessary. The cat had told Minho that if he ever walked in on them having sex again he’d purposefully ruin the mood by throwing up a hairball, so he preferred to stay in the living room, even if it meant he couldn’t sleep by your feet like he loved to do.

That was fair, Minho supposed. He didn’t feel comfortable having Sir Percival in the room when you were getting intimate, either, so he appreciated the privacy.

Right now, though, since he had woken up in the middle of the night and hadn’t been able to fall asleep again, he was wondering if he should go out and bring Sir Percival to bed. Maybe his warmth and his purring could help him fall asleep again…

Unlike Minho, you were sleeping soundly next to him, with your back turned to him. If he stood up from this bed he might wake you up, and he didn’t want you to be in his situation… So he settled on focusing on your steady breathing while he waited for sleep to claim him again.

It was just as he was almost asleep again that a minute sound made his body jerk awake.

It came from you. It was a whimper, barely even audible. But how could he not hear it with his enhanced senses? When you were so close?

It would’ve worried him, had the smell of your arousal not knocked the air straight out of his lungs.

Minho would’ve never imagined his sleepless night would’ve taken him to this intersection, but here he was. He realised he could do one of three things… One, he could ignore the fact that you were right there next to him, presumably having a wet dream… Two, he could wake you up to reenact whatever it was you were dreaming about… Or three, he could use this as an opportunity to indulge in something he hardly ever did…

Since he started a relationship with you, Minho and you had many opportunities to try new things. You were quite open to try any and every seemingly odd activity in the bedroom–be it anal, or role-play, or some light bondage, you were always down to try it. And when Minho brought up his little fantasy of touching you while you were asleep, you’d been more than ecstatic to try it out… To the point where he was sure if he hadn’t brought it up, you would’ve done so eventually.

There was something about the fact that you trusted him enough to let him do things to you while you were unconscious that excited him. Maybe it was a projection of all those nights back then that he’d spent trying not to fantasise about you when you slept together, or maybe it was simply the act itself that he inexplicably enjoyed… Regardless of what it was, your little whimpers had his mind clouding a bit.

Sometimes, before you fell asleep next to each other, you’d turn to him and tell him ‘Maybe I’ll wake up to a surprise tomorrow…’ with that lilt in your voice that just let him know exactly in which way you wanted him to wake you up. That had been the case last night, and Minho had considered doing it a bit later, when the sun was starting to rise at least. But he figured, since you were already having a bit of fun in your dreams, maybe a midnight treat wouldn’t hurt.

Scooting closer to you, his hand found your waist. He held you tight while he pressed his nose to your pulsepoint, right under your jaw. He could hear your blood flowing, your heart rate increasing, and the scent of your excitement had him almost salivating.

Dragging his hand from your waist to your hip, he carefully caressed your body over the fabric of your sleeping gown, just as he pressed his growing erection against your ass. A tiny moan escaped your mouth, but your steady heartbeat let him know you were still pretty much asleep.

Whatever it was you were dreaming about had you shuffling the tiniest bit, enough for your ass to rub against his crotch, and he could already feel a bit of wetness soiling the material of his sleeping shorts. His own fluids, to be precise. It was one of those things that shocked him after he turned, just how much fluid his body could produce. Be it saliva, or sweat, or cum… It was slightly inconvenient, but at the very least, you always seemed to enjoy it, so he supposed it wasn’t so bad.

Minho dragged his hand from where it’d been caressing your hip up your torso, stopping only when he was finally able to cup one of your breasts. He generously fondled and squeezed the flesh, not holding back one bit. If you woke up, you woke up, and if you didn’t, you didn’t. Simple as that.

Dragging the pad of one of his fingers over your stiffening nipple, he relished the way your heartbeat picked up, as well as the way you started to writhe a bit in his hold.

“You’re so soft, baby…” Minho couldn’t help but mumble against the skin of your neck, and you whined, almost like you were reacting to him. And maybe you were. He liked to believe that to be the case.

He pinched and twisted your nipple between his fingers, pressing kisses on your neck and grinding his now fully hardened length against your ass. “I wonder what you’re dreaming about, my kitten… Is it me? I hope it’s me…”

Minho was very quiet, but he hoped you could hear him even in your dreams. He figured you might’ve, considering how fast your heart was beating now.

He was genuinely planning on dragging this out for as long as possible, but when you mumbled something akin to his name, he simply couldn’t hold back any longer. He removed his hand from your breast after one final hefty squeeze, only to bring that same hand between your bodies. His digits made contact with your entrance, and he couldn’t help but take in a deep breath at just how wet you were.

He wondered how much of it was your own arousal, and how much of it was his own cum that might’ve remained there from when you had sex last night before going to bed. He didn’t come inside often, but when he did, the thought of you having a part of him within your warmth did things to him, it tickled a secluded area of his brain, and it certainly excited him. He supposed it was instinctual. One of those wolf things he hardly ever paid attention to.

Delaying no further, he freed himself out of his sleeping shorts, just enough to drag the tip of his cock up and down your drenched folds. Minho almost got winded when he heard the moan that came out of your mouth in response to his motions. Your lavender scent wrapping around every single one of his nerve-endings enticed him, and he just couldn’t deny himself anymore.

He usually preferred to make sure you were well stretched enough to take him in, but considering you’d been stretched plenty last night, he figured you’d be just fine. And he was proven correct when he finally pushed himself fully within your warmth, when the wetness between yours legs let him slide in with ease.

Minho couldn’t help but groan at the feeling, just as a moan of your own escaped your mouth.

“You’re so warm, baby…”

He pulled his hips back, only to push them forward to start a slow, pleasant rhythm. His hold was tight on your hip, your heart sounded like it was close to leaping out of your chest, and the second your walls clenched on his length, he just knew you’d wake up soon… You’d wake up exactly to what you had wanted.

“Oh–oh, Minho…”

There was no mistaking it anymore, your barely audible moans had slightly increased in tone, and you’d started to push your hips back a bit.

Minho just hummed in response, dragging his hand from your hip to your lower belly. You placed your own hand on top of his, lacing your fingers together and sighing contently.

The kisses he left on your neck and the exposed skin of your shoulder seemed to spur you on, the movement of your hips increased in pace, and he just increased his in return. He was mumbling nonsense against your skin, tightening his hold on your interlocked fingers, getting completely lost in the feel of your tight warmth around him.

Before he knew it, you had turned your body a bit, and he had pushed your legs apart to get better access to your heat.

With an arm below you for his hand to hold yours, he took advantage of this position by using his other hand to pull one of your legs over his hip and for his fingers to find their rightful place between your legs.

You just kissed him. You kissed him like you’d die if you didn’t, mumbling words of appreciation of your own between each kiss, broken up by moans and sighs and whimpers with every thrust of his hips and every circle drawn on your clit.

“You’re so good to me”, you mumbled, tightening your hold on his hand, moaning so prettily he almost blew then and there.

“And you to me”, he replied simply, picking up his pace, relishing your scent and your warmth and just… you.

Time always seemed to slow down whenever you had sex, especially at these hours of the night, to the point where he could never tell how long it’d been since that first thrust. All Minho could register was how incredibly good he felt, how your heart was thumping fast in your chest, and how hard you were clamping around his cock.

The sounds you made whenever you came undone under his touch and his motions were like music to his ears, they spurred him on, borderline urged him to come himself. And there was certainly hardly anything he would’ve enjoyed more right now than to blow his load while you were still spasming around him, while all you could mumble was his name, while all he could mumble was yours.

Your chest rose and fell with your deep breaths, and while the after effects of his orgasm still clung to every single one of his senses, you pulled him in for a slow, tender kiss. Minho immediately melted, holding you tighter and still enjoying the comfort of your inner walls.

When you pulled back from the kiss, he brushed his nose against yours, making you smile and giggle, and you sounded incredibly sleepy even after all that had transpired just minutes ago. He pulled you into his arms, entangling his legs with yours as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Everything was calm around you. The room was barely illuminated by the lampposts outside your windows, and Minho suddenly felt like humming a random song you’d been listening to earlier in the evening… So he did, all as he caressed your hair.

You nuzzled your face further into his chest, wrapping an arm around his waist and holding him tight. Right then, Minho figured that every choice he had ever made, that everything that had happened to him, had taken him to this moment, and if that were truly the case, then he honestly wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

“Babe?” You mumbled, the sound slightly muffled against the fabric of his vest top.

“Hm?” Minho kept caressing your hair, your back, holding you close and keeping you there.

“I love you”.

He honestly couldn’t help but smile. Of course he knew you loved him. You’d shown him just how much countless times before. Not only throughout your relationship, but way before that… He’d honestly known since that time you hugged him when he had shapeshifted into a wolf the very first time.

“I love you, kitten, baby… So much”.

You pulled away from his chest and looked at him, with a blinding smile on your face. Granted, he could hardly see it in the dark room, but he saw enough. Enough to know just how much you cared.

But alas, Minho was first and foremost your best friend, and even if he was melting on the inside with your confession, he just had to be annoying about it. “I can’t believe you beat me to say it first, though. I won’t ever forgive you”.

You gasped dramatically, bringing a hand to your mouth for emphasis. “Here I am? Baring my heart to you? And this is what I get? Fine, I won’t ever forgive you for never forgiving me”.

You were just about to turn away from him, he just knew. So he held you tighter, keeping you in place while he laughed. Your façade crumbled immediately, and you laughed with him, all while he kept pressing kisses on your cheeks.

“Guess I’ll just have to say it as much as possible to get the upper hand”, Minho mumbled against your cheek, just before he started leaving behind an ‘I love you’ after every kiss he pressed on your heated skin.

When your chuckles died down, and he was satisfied with the amount of times he had professed his love, silence enveloped you both once again. Minho simply laid on his back, hugging you close as you laid your head on his chest, right over his heart.

He wasn’t sure if it was the admittance of his feelings, or the hormonal rush of a good fuck, or your lavender scent that seemed to make him delirious sometimes, but, before he knew it, the words were coming out of his mouth with no way to stop them.

“Would you like to move in with me?”

No take-backsies now, he supposed.

You took in a deep breath, but remained silent for a moment.

It was just as Minho was about to panic that you finally spoke. “Do you think Chris would accept Sir Percival into the pack as well? I’m not leaving him behind”.

Minho couldn’t help but chuckle. “He’ll have to. Otherwise I’ll threaten him until he does”.

It was all a bluff… mostly.

Minho would respect any decision Chris took, but if it came to it, he kind of knew that if he laid out why it was important to him to take in both you and Sir Percival, Chris would agree, so he wasn’t particularly worried. Sir Percival already respected Chris, from what Minho knew, so he was almost ninety percent sure it wouldn’t be a problem.

You took in another deep breath, pulling yourself away from Minho’s hug so you could straddle him instead. With your full weight on his body and your hands on his chest, you looked down at him, taking in his features.

“I guess I’ll need to start applying for jobs, then”, you just smiled brightly at him.

Minho held your waist, smiling at you in return right before he pulled you down for a kiss. With you and Sir Percival there at the den, his family would finally be complete, and he felt as if his heart was about to burst at the thought.

Tagging: @staaa96 · @oiminho · @straylightdream · @starshine-moon · @biribarabiribbaem · @100layersofdaddyissues · @dearalice · @alexis-reads-fics · @xcookiemonsteer · @knowleeknow · @chanlovesme · @liminaldaydream · @bintificreads · @svngiem · @princelingperfect · @violetpenguinkris · @leedunno · @aestheticsluut · @skzhomiehopper · @cessixja · @mimzibee · @hipsdofangirl · @djeniryuu · @floatingcoffecup · @minnysproutgriffinteddy · @toplinehyunjin · @goblinracha · @viviixlyy · @casualenthusiastexpert · @kileidoscope · @kpop-bbdoll · @crispytigerearthquake · @meloncremesoda · @fawnpeaks · @dalamjisung · @abcdefgiwsmcty · @jaiuneamesolitaiire · @goatpeople · @lilramennoodle · @vitrealisbunny · @stayconnecteed · @iadorethemskz · @kalihien · @junebug032 · @cecepop15 · @meowmeowhoon If you want to be removed (or if i tagged you incorrectly) from the list just PM me. If you want to be added fill in this form. you must have an indication that you’re an adult in your blog if you want me to tag you in my works

Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :) feel free to leave your comments in the caption/tags when you reblog, or by sending me an ask !

General Masterlist Minho's WereRoomies Instalments: Camping With Wolves & Dog Unleashed

484 notes · View notes