#I will keep talking about this show until all my thoughts about it run wild and free

[wearebackbagels]

"Whether or not it’s conscious, we recognize our own flaws and deficiencies, and that in turn makes it easier to identify those traits in others."

At their core I think Tom and Freddie are very much alike: smarter than what is seen on the surface, observant and caughgaycaugh.

They both see right through each other from the get go and they are both aware of this. But where Tom is quiet and always on his toes to not get his constant cover blown, Freddie is a leaking cauldron of confidence that is not afraid to show off his deductions( sidetrack but I feel like Freddie basically is a less jittery slightly gayer Sherlock).

Sure he is smart enough to pose as a potential threat to Tom's entire cover but that on its own isn't enough to hate someone on a personal level.

I'd like to think there was a time when Tom was more openly confident and used to show off his skills a lot more, much like the 1999s Tom Ripley does, but that he learned to tone it down to not draw attention to himself( something many neurodivergent people can probably relate to). Freddie on the other hand is not ashamed to show off and take up space, he comes off as confident both in who he is and his sexual orientation, as in he doesn't flaunt it but he doesn't actively hide it either.

Option one: Tom sees Freddie as someone he could have been, confident and outgoing, someone people like, which in and of itself could make you dislike a person, or....

Option two: he sees himself and all the things he has to hide represented in Freddie (and that really says so much more about Tom than anything else.)

So, with these thoughts fresh in mind, let's take a look at the Caravaggio once more....

-and mull over the fact that Caravaggio is both David and Goliath, both the killer and the victim, both the hater and the hated.

(Credit to @poorlittlevampirebaby who provided the last three stills)

[starboye]

starring: eddie brock x male reader x venom

request: hi!! can i request a eddie brock/venom x male reader smut where eddie finally introduces reader to venom and venom can’t help but let all his dirty thoughts about what he wants to do to reader out. i’m talking bondage, breeding, ass eating (ikyk his tongue goes crazy)

warnings: smut, monster fucking, freaky!venom, HUGE DICK VENOM, unprotected sex, creampie, ass eating, cum eating, ball and dick cleaning i guess

as much as eddie did NOT want to introduce you and venom, the pestering was getting a little to much from the both of you so he decided finally it was time, calling you over to his apartment and slowly letting venom come out from his shoulder, a floating head connected to a tendril coming out of your boyfriends back was weird but you've seen weirder.

"y/n meet venom and venom meet y/n" eddie says "pleased to eat you y/n" venom says without mush of a filet, your ass was nice looking and he wanted that "pleased to eat you to venom" you shake one of his tendrils and immediately wipe the sort of slime on your pants.

"i like him, he has a sort of humor" venom says out loud "venom" eddie tries to stop him from starting to embarrass him "don't worry i think you're kinda cool to venom" you say with a laugh "your lips look really nice can i cum on them" he blurts out unexpectedly "well that's enough talking from you v" eddie tries to get venom back inside his body but he takes over instead.

"well i mean if you want to but im not against it" you smile to show off your lips more the symbiote "when eddie told me about you i thought i wasn't going to like you but now that you're here i want to do so many things" he says and eddie already knows what this is going to turn to so he tries to stop him but venom is just to strong, staying in control for just a little longer.

"oh pray tell more" you scoot closer to him "well i want to eat your delicious looking ass, i want to fuck you till you cant think, i want to cum all over your pretty face, and i want to make you my boyfriend" he says all in one breath with a complete smile through it all "well we could do some of those things today" you say getting on his lap.

who would've thought you'd be so open to getting fucked by an alien but hey who am i to judge (you people would let a fox fuck you aka nick wilde but hey i would too) you're quick to start making out with him, his long tongue exploring your mouth and making it's way down your throat, he was surprised to see you had no gag reflex which had his mind running.

eddie watched from inside as you lubed up venom fat cock with your saliva and slide all nineteen inches into you "haha i told you the human could fit me eddie" venom cheers as you bounce up and down on his long shaft, an obvious belly bulge poking out from your stomach and sort of in your chest, but venom still knew you were a puny human so he took it slow with you.

letting you rock your hips back and forth of his cock until he could feel himself cumming, and listening to your moan about how you love venoms' big dick so much had him aching to fill your pretty ass up but the things is, is this safe like symbiotes can cum a lot and like i mean A LOT so like will this hurt you?

meh i guess there's only one way to find out, unloading his pent up cum into your stretched ass that was unable to hold his cum in you for to long before it was spilling out, you looked a little out of it but you were a live so that counts for something "now how about we try that other thing" you ask with a weak grin on your face.

venom flipping you over and shoving his long tongue down your hole to lick the excess cum out while you cleaned` him up down below, lick the cum from his fat balls and making sure his cock was all nice and shiny, eddie just had to watch as you slutted yourself out to the alien but he's not gonna lie he was kinda turned on by it all.

"can we keep him eddie" venom asks still face deep in your ass "id love to stay plus i cant really walk so" you chuckle and for some reason just hearing you laugh made venoms cock throb, he doesn't know why but maybe it's a sign to go again

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac

[mandarinmoons]

I have a Spencer request :)

Maybe some very cute fluff with fem!BAU!reader and Spencer where the team is staying at a hotel on a case and neither of them can sleep so they go to one of their rooms and just talk and maybe cuddle until they can sleep? That would be lovely <3

(absolutely love ur fics btw ❤️)

Thank you sweetheart <3

Tossing from one side to the other, sleep was something you were clearly not granted tonight and it frustrated you to no end.

When you and the team arrived at the hotel, the first thing you wanted to do was change into your pajamas and jump into bed. However, you wanted to take the time to take care of yourself, so you had a nice dinner, took a shower and did a bit of light reading to get your thoughts away from work, but the second you turned off the lights to finally get some well deserved rest, all of the exhaustion was gone and now here you were, nearly in tears from not being able to sleep.

Sensing that slumber wasn’t going to hit you anytime soon, you slipped out of bed, covered yourself in your robe and shuffled into your slippers.

The moment you opened your room, you nearly jumped when you saw Spencer already outside your door. His hair looked disheveled and you could tell that he was having just as hard of a time falling asleep as you.

“You can’t sleep either, huh?”

Nodding his head, you chuckled as you brushed the hair out of his eyes, wondering in what position he had tried to sleep in order for his hair to get to the state it was in.

“Wanna come in?”

“It’s kind of why I came here.”

“Really?”

Spencer nodded and you opened the door for him, going to sit on the edge of the bed while he closed the door and followed you.

“What’s keeping you up?”

“I can’t get the victims' faces out of my head.”

Humming at Spencer’s response, you thought about the scared faces of the children the team saved today. Laying down on the covers, your thoughts went wild remembering the events of the day. The children had been stolen from their beds in the middle of the night and forced to take on the names and personalities of the children the unsub had lost, some had died of illness and others had been taken away by child protective services.

Spencer laid down next to you as a sigh escaped his lips, his hand running over his face, trying to keep his eyes open so as to not fall asleep on you.

“I hope they’re all able to heal.”

“I’m sure they will, Spence.”

Reaching out to his face, your thumb ran over Spencer’s cheek, a chuckle falling from his lips.

“What’re you doing?”

“I don’t know, comforting you?”

“This is how you comfort people?”

“I like to show physical affection, but I know you’re a bit hesitant with it, so…”

Turning to face you, Spencer rested his arm over your waist, his fingers lightly caressing your lower back.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah.”

Snuggling a bit closer, your arms wrapped around Spencer’s middle as your head rested on his chest. One of Spencer’s hands moved to your head, caressing the back of it while his lips pressed a light kiss to the crown.

Continuing to talk about anything and everything, not long after you dozed off in a deep sleep, while Spencer admiring your peaceful state. Soon enough, Spencer rested his head next to yours, his eyelids finally fluttering shut as he felt the peace radiating off of you. His heartbeat syncing with yours over time, slowly but surely hugging you closer to him in his sleep.

You can find my masterlist here!

Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3

[catboyieejeno]

gameboy :: p.js — one

genre: gamer! jisung x gamer! reader, college au cw: female reader, fwb to lovers, explicit smut, pervy jisung, male masturbation, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, inexperienced jisung, cum play/breeding kink, pet names, slight humiliation kink, size kink, creampie, probably more wc: 18.257k

[one] [two]

18+ minors do not interact!

The red letters that flash across your screen read ‘Defeat’, illuminating your dimly lit room with a shy, red hue. The instant the word appears on your monitor, a voice blasts through your headset, erupting in emphatic complaints and protests. You can hear the clatter of a keyboard and mouse being shoved around on the other end of the receiver, and it takes everything in you to stifle your laugh. 

“We definitely could’ve won that!” the boy scoffs, “I swear, sometimes it feels like you and I are the only people with any fucking game sense.” 

“Wow, thanks for the validation,” you joke, instinctively queuing up for another match. Your eyes trail up to the little icon in the corner of the screen that glows green every time he speaks.

“You know what I mean,” he grumbles, and you imagine he must not look all that different from the little crying cat picture he set as his discord icon. The thought makes you snort, but he ignores you, stating, “I think this is my last game,” 

You nod even though you know he can’t see you, “same, I have class tomorrow,”

“First day of the semester for you, too?”  

You nod again. “Unfortunately. My days of gaming until four and sleeping until noon have come to an end.” 

He laughs, leaning forward in his chair as he realizes something, “You know, I never asked what you’re studying,” 

“Oh,” you blink, “Well, the first class I have tomorrow is just a random credit I needed, but I’m actually majoring in-” 

It takes less than a few seconds for your words to drown out into a muffled buzz, and the only thing Jisung can focus on now is the silky, smooth sound of your voice. 

He would never admit it, at least not out loud, but your voice makes his heart beat just a little faster. The way each and every word rolls off your tongue makes his breath hitch, imagination running wild at the thought of what your lips look like when they mold to form each syllable and sound. 

Every night like clockwork, Jisung finds himself rocking side to side in his desk chair, eyes hanging low and round lips curved up into a smile as he listens to you speak.

It’s so easy to talk to him, too. By now, you’ve lost count of how many nights the two of you rambled off in voice chats, watching shows or playing video games or simply oversharing the details of your lives. It’s only been a few months since you met in a game chat, on that night where he practically harassed you for your discord after you carried him up a rank in-game. You’re secretly grateful he did, though you wouldn’t let him know that; the two of you effortlessly became part of each other’s daily routine, and now, calls with you are his favorite way to end the night. Tonight is no exception.

Jisung begins to mindlessly swing in his chair as usual. He’s humming passively between your small pauses to encourage you to keep going as his hands automatically start caressing his torso. It’s a somewhat innocent gesture, or at least it starts out that way: his palms sliding across the ridges of his abdomen as he listens to your voice. It’s better than music to his ears, and it urges his long fingers to dance closer and closer to his waistband.

“–and I thought about changing it, but I think with an degree in Lit, I could probably get a career in–”

Lost in your voice, Jisung slips his hands into his shorts, holding his balls as he fully zones out of the conversation. He knows you’re saying words and forming actual sentences, but his social awareness has dwindled completely and he absolutely can’t seem to get past how sweet you sound, and how much sweeter you would sound under… different circumstances. He moves up to hold his dick gently and furrows his brows. Almost accidentally, his thumb brushes along the underside of his tip, teeth clamping the inside of his cheek and gnawing on it to ground himself. Just as eager as its owner, Jisung’s dick jolts in his palm, progressively swelling up until it’s flushing bright pink. 

“You’re into English?” He manages to stop daydreaming and hone into the conversation for a fleeting moment, just long enough to ask you that simple question and keep your attention off of his rapidly shifting breath.

He’s blatantly playing with himself now, ever so distractedly. It’s an autonomous act: the way the pad of his middle finger trails over his slit to collect a bit of the pre-cum that has begun to dribble out in pearly beads. He hisses, then quickly snaps his mouth shut in hopes that you hadn’t heard him. 

“Yeah,” he can hear your smile in your words, “I think I always have been. I used to read all the time and—I swear, if you say I’m boring, I’ll personally come over and choke you–” 

As he acknowledges reality for a quick moment, his pace falters. His brows pinch, and he feels confused as he realizes he can’t stop or even moderate his actions, despite the shame slowly beginning to wash over him. The more you talk, the harder he grows. His grip is getting tighter, his strokes needier… he must be losing his mind. With a gulp, he thinks to himself, what would you do if you could see him touching himself like this to you? Would you think it’s sick and twisted or would you offer to help him out? His head begins to throb as the room spins around him, but he really can’t seem to slow his motions. By now, he’s bucking his hips up and into his hand while the other covers his mouth, silencing the whines that threaten to leave his throat. He’s breathing heavily, praying to god you don’t somehow notice his perverted actions. Despite knowing that he isn’t thinking straight, Jisung can’t help the thoughts that continue to fog his mind, rampant and obscene. 

Could you hear the squelching of his hand pumping his cock, covered in his pre-release? Or the way he’s practically panting, reduced to nothing at the mere sound of your voice? He’s not sure whether or not his mic would even pick that up, but even so, the corner of his lips curl into a lazy smile as his mind continues down his twisted rabbit hole. 

In spite of not knowing what you look like, there’s no denying that he wants to give you all of him. He wants to feel himself buried deep inside your throat, your pretty voice vibrating around him as you choke on his length. He feels himself twitch in his palm and he subconsciously nods, picturing it's your walls around him instead of his own inadequate hand. Jisung huffs out once, fucking his fist wildly, picturing how much he’d like to feel himself bust inside of your warm, tight pus-

“Sung? Sung!”

“Huh? W-what?” As he yanks his hand from his shorts, the waistband snaps against his skin and he yelps out at the impact, “Sorry! I promise I was listening, it-its just, I got a little caught up with–” words are tumbling out of his mouth, before he can catch up to them.   

“It’s fine, it’s fine! Hurry, just pick your agent before the match gets–” but the timer runs out, and the lobby screen appears once more as you sigh, “–canceled...” 

Jisung glances down at his hand, separating his fingers and watching how the sticky pre-cum leaves webbed strings between each of his parted digits. His stomach is also wet, and the tent in his pants is growing increasingly painful with each passing second. 

“What were you fantasizing about, huh?” Oh, fuck. The teasing edge in your words makes his nerves tingle, and he throws his head back as you hum into your mic, “Hmm. Well, I guess it was more interesting than what I was saying. Can’t blame you though, the topic of school is boring me too, and the semester hasn’t even started yet. Also, that can’t count as your last game. I literally won’t allow it.” 

You queue up for another game and Jisung sighs, watching the timer on the screen tick away. The picture changes, and the two of you are prompted to start a game. A few kleenex wipes collect the mess on his hand and torso, and he settles back in his chair after tossing them, deciding his neediness will have to wait for now.

Bidding you good night is harder than usual tonight, but he knows you need to get to sleep—you mentioned you had an early class and he had his own, so his selfish urge to keep you talking until he came in his hand would, unfortunately, need to take a raincheck.

After logging off of his computer, Jisung drops his head into his hands with a sigh.

What the fuck even was that? 

A mix of shame and arousal take over him as his cheeks begin glowing a deep shade of red. He lets out a small scoff, shaking his head to himself as he gets up from his chair. His dick is still as hard as a rock, and he can’t help but feel flustered at the fact that he has, quite literally, blue-balled himself. 

With a towel swung over his shoulder and a clean pair of sleeping shorts clutched in his fist, Jisung walks up to the dorm’s nearest communal bathroom. He turns on the faucet, freeing himself of his clothes. The moment his boxers come down past his thighs, his length slaps against the skin below his navel, making him hiss out as he steps into the shower. The cold water, running down against his heated body, seems to be doing the trick of clearing his mind, that is, until his hands find their way to his stomach, rubbing the soap over it.

It’s so hard to expel the thoughts of you when they’re so intrusive and tempting, and Jisung lets his mind drift off once more, imagining how it would feel to be touched by you, sucked by you. All the soft noises you would make are weirdly familiar; he can practically hear them. His head falls back, lips caught between his teeth as he twitches and gives himself an experimental stroke, shuddering as his thumb glides across the slit of his sensitive tip. He clenches his eyes shut tighter, letting out a shaky sigh and letting the water continue to trickle down his body. He doesn’t know what you look like, other than your hair color which you mentioned the other day. Despite that, he still tries desperately to piece an image of you together behind his eyelids, picturing what your lips are like. And just like that, thoughts of you flood him, and he shudders at the vision of you on your knees, looking up at him with big, innocent eyes, begging to taste him and take all of him. He longs to feel you swallow around him—to grab either side of your face and thrust into your needy mouth until the tears slip from your eyes and your pussy is dripping from the need to be fucked.  

Getting lost in the moment, he doesn’t even realize how loud he’s becoming and how fast his fist is working his dick. Jisung's highly anticipated release is only seconds away when a loud knock startles him, lunging him right back into his body.

“Yo, man! How long are you gonna take in there?” His friend and next door neighbor, Mark, shouts from the other side of the door, knocking again and ruining Jisung’s fantasy once and for all. 

The boy takes a moment to clear his throat and swallow, not trusting his voice to not crack otherwise, “Uh.. Sorry. I’ll just be a minute.” 

It takes everything in him to slow his hand to a stop and pry it off of his shaft, deciding that perhaps, he shouldn’t entertain his filthy thoughts any longer. He quickly finishes showering with another unnecessary interruption from Mark, then drags himself back to his room and gets into his bed, forcing his eyes shut in an attempt to sleep. The longer he lies there, however, the more restless he grows. 

His dick feels sore to the touch and it’s driving him absolutely crazy. Every time he adjusts his shorts or moves his legs, his balls throb from how full they are. Knowing he has class to get to the following day, he tries to convince himself that maybe he needs a release to get to sleep. It’ll tire him out, and then finally, he’ll be able to get some rest…There’s at least a bit of logic to that theory, or that’s what he tells himself, anyway. 

Against his better judgment that pleads with him to just shut his eyes and count sheep, Jisung huffs out and slips his hands into his shorts to begin touching himself for the nth time tonight. This whole time, he had been unknowingly edging himself and now he’s so, so undeniably and incredibly desperate to cum that it literally hurts. 

His free hand brings his phone up and unlocks it, thumb swiping quickly in search of the discord app where your contact resides, the little green bubble next to it signifying that you’re still online. He hovers over the call button, taunting himself with the idea of making a call to you at this time. One little click, and he’d hear your voice again. Just one click and he-

sung ᨐฅ started a call. Today at 11:54 AM

Shit, shit, shit. 

He rushes to hang up, but you’ve answered no more than a ring later. 

“Hello?” 

Jisung holds his rather unsteady breath, staring wide-eyed at his phone. His dick pulses in his palm that now rests still. 

“Sung?” 

As gently as possible, he lays the phone down on his puffed up chest, letting out his breath slowly so that you don’t hear him.

“I’m gonna assume you called me by accident… ” you sigh out in disappointment, growing quiet in uncertainty. For a second, Jisung is convinced you’re gonna hang up, but when you stay on the line, he peers down at the screen curiously. 

Your icon lights up green and there’s some shuffling on your end, presumably from you getting comfortable in bed. 

He hears you yawn and smiles fondly. 

“I’m tired,” you mumble, “are you asleep? I was actually excited that you called. Maybe it’s my fucked up schedule… or, maybe I’m just dreading tomorrow, but I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know…” 

You’re speaking slower and quieter than usual, but you’re speaking, completely oblivious of the fact that he’s thinking of the dirtiest things that involve you, getting off while you think he’s sound asleep. 

“It’s always easier to sleep once we’ve talked so,” you pause, then sigh out jokingly, “I guess I'll just talk your unconscious ear off until I fall asleep…You don’t mind, right?”

God, no, he thinks.  

Jisung silently celebrates your decision with a pump of his hand, shuffling a bit to get comfortable as you go on about genshin and cats and other things he can barely pay mind to. It takes no more than a few strokes, shallow ones where he caresses the angry head of his dick to the velvety sound of your slurred and drowsy mumbling, for him to bring himself to come so fucking hard. 

His knees lock as his cock springs up in his clutched palm, spewing streams of white cum all over his stomach, chest, and thighs. The muscles on his abdomen ache from the way they contract, eyes and jaw shutting tightly as he challenges himself to remain quiet. The sheets aren’t spared from his thick load either, his nut dripping down the sides of his tummy to make dark, round puddles on his bed. His toes curl as he tries his hardest to not gasp out when the pleasure dissolves into sensitivity, digging his head back into the pillow with a hand clasped over his lips. 

A few minutes later, the blurriness in his vision is relieved, along with the ringing in his ears. You’ve stopped talking; instead, the receiver picks up your short and shallow breaths, as if you’ve fallen asleep with your mouth open. Cute.  

As he assesses the aftermath of his much needed release, he wishes he could snap a picture and send it to you, so that you’d wake up knowing this pathetic mess he made was all for you, because of you.

Alas, he can’t, and he hangs up once he’s completely sure you’re resting. With his eyelids feeling much heavier than before, he manages to toss his phone onto the nightstand before he, too, drifts off to sleep.

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The following morning, Jisung wakes up in a bit of a panic. The first thing that throws him for a loop is the fact that his alarm didn’t go off at all. He quickly realizes he forgot to set it amidst the activities of the night before. The second thing that strikes him is his own hand that rests on his stomach, stuck in some kind of damp, sticky liquid. In his half-conscious state, he lifts his fingers and his puffy eyes widen as he identifies the clear fluid that decorates his tummy as his drying release from the night before. 

“Ugh…” He grimaces, sitting up in his bed. His phone, which is less than half full of battery since he forgot to plug it in, blinks back the numbers 8:38 at him. Jisung’s eyes widen as he remembers that his first class of the day, of the semester, is at 9. 

“Fuck!” In a flash, his blanket is flung off of him and his legs are swinging over the edge of the bed. He moves to grab some tissues from his nightstand, making aggressively desperate attempts at wiping away his cum. When the Kleenex sticks to him instead, he digs around his drawers for a pack of wet wipes, snatching a pair of pants off of the floor at the same time and practically yanking them up his legs. 

Despite almost falling over, he manages to get them on and clean off his torso… for the most part. A random sweatshirt is tugged on over his head and he runs his hand through his hair a few times to tidy it before passively telling his reflection, this will do. 

Moments later, he’s rushing downstairs and outside of the dormitory with his unzipped backpack hung over his shoulder. He rushes to unlock his bike, cursing as he fumbles with the keys. Once he’s on, he starts pedaling to the Science building on the other side of campus, heavily dreading checking the time in fear it’ll read some absurd number and he’ll wind up being much later than he anticipates.

The breath that’s been caught in his throat all morning is only released when he steps through the door of the lecture room to see that the professor hasn’t walked in yet, and that the clock reads that he’s 6 minutes early.

Finally slowing his rushed pace, Jisung does a quick once over the room to scan the faces of his fellow students before taking his seat somewhere near the back. Thanking the heavens that his notebook and textbook didn’t go tumbling out of his bag in the midst of his previous hurry, he tugs them out, flipping them open and writing the date on the first page. His laptop, which is where he had planned to take notes on, sits in his dorm room where he left it on his desk. Everyone else has theirs out, but he’ll just have to bring his own next time. 

There’s a distant click, and the door on the lowest level of the lecture hall opens. Through it walks a relatively tall and slender lady, heels echoing rhythmically as she strides over to set her dark bag down by the podium. Her hair is tied back high and tight, so much so, that all of her features look like they're blending into her hairline. She looks like she’s somewhere in her mid-to-late fifties, and from the instant she walked in, the entire class went silent.

She clearly has a presence that commands attention and undoubtedly, she fits the visual profile of a strict college professor quite well, especially when she picks up the chalk and scribbles her surname onto the green chalkboard beside the larger projector screen.

“I’m Professor Hwang. Welcome to AST1002, also known as Descriptive Astronomy. If you’re here, that means you took AST1001 with Mr. Kwon last year. He has since transferred to a different department.” 

There’s no audible response, although some disappointment does flash across the faces of the students in the room, all of whom did have (and seemingly would miss) Mr. Kwon. Professor Hwang doesn’t seem to notice the lack of responses, and continues speaking as she pulls some papers out.

“Firstly, I’ll take attendance. Then, I’ll pass the syllabus around. I would like for you to note,” she pauses to place a pair of red glasses high on the bridge of her nose, “that attendance is mandatory for my class, and worth 20% of your grade. I’ll go over pop quizzes and weekly quizzes, as well as the initial class project, when each of you have a copy of the syllabus. That being said, I look forward to seeing you all here every class. Please call out when you hear your name.” 

As she starts to take attendance, Jisung takes the time to sigh into his hands, both exhausted and dreading the fact that he’d have to spend three days out of the week rotting in a lecture hall to attend a class he expected to be fun, or at the very least a break from his much more difficult core classes. By the looks of it, that’s no longer the plan. 

It’s easy to zone out quickly while his mind is still foggy, no doubt from the lack of sleep and the subsequent abrupt awakening that followed. He had just begun an attempt to read the syllabus when something made his ears perk. 

Immediately, his head snaps up in pursuit of a soft and airy voice that just responded to Professor Hwang. It’s so quick and in passing that he almost thinks he might have imagined it in his delirious state, but the way the hair on his limbs stands on end is unmistakable. His eyes dart around the room, hitting his classmate’s heads like targets, but there’s absolutely no way to identify the individual who just spoke. 

Could it be… No. No way. 

Jisung is no stranger to daydreaming about you, but he isn’t completely delusional. He knows the chances of being not only in the same city, but the same university and class as you are absolutely slim to none, so he stops that train of thought dead in its tracks. 

It does segway him into thinking of you, though. You’re obviously not here, so he wonders instead what class you are in at the moment. He tries to picture what you’re wearing on your first day of class, trusting you look more put together than him in his old hoodie that is slightly sticking to the dry cum on his stomach. Do you like your classmates? Your professor? He sincerely hopes you have a more tolerable one than he does. 

“Park Jisung?” 

With a slight cough, he spits out a weak “h-here.” and instantly grimaces, raising his shoulders autonomously as if he would get scolded for stammering so pathetically. The professor, to his relief, doesn’t even glance up from the roster. Then, he feels quite silly for even thinking he would get reproached for that to begin with. In his defense, she’s a rather intimidating woman, and his inner monologue is so loud and flooded with thoughts of you that he fears she may have heard it. 

She finishes calling for attendance, resorting to striding up and down the aisles as she begins to dissect the syllabus. In an effort to pretend he’s paying attention, Jisung glances down at the size twelve font on the page, skimming over the words without really taking anything in. During one of the professor’s paces, a pen she had resting on her ear slips and falls towards the ground with a slight clatter, and it seems a student picked it up for her, because there’s a slight mumbling, followed by a sharp “thank you,” and a very, very recognizable,

“You’re welcome, Professor.” 

His eyes widen at once. Alright, call him crazy, but now he thinks that it really might have been your voice. The familiar timbre, warm and delicate; a sound he’s heard for months on end and knows embarrassingly well… The thought of being in the same room as you out of sheer luck and coincidence makes his abdomen twist and his palms sweat so bad, he has to wipe them on his pants.

He hates that he can’t fully tell, in fact, he’s almost ashamed that he can’t; before today, Jisung would have sworn up and down that he knew your voice better than even his own, but you sound so far and so quiet that he can’t completely bet all of his marbles. Then, he quickly realizes calling it ‘your voice’ definitely makes him sound delusional, even in the safety of his own forgiving conscience. He decides to call it ‘the voice’ for now, at least until he’s a hundred-percent sure. 

An irritatingly long hour and half later, the only sound that continues to ring around the lecture hall is Professor Hwang’s monotone one, reciting each and every itemized assignment and rule on the never-ending syllabus. There’s less than fifteen minutes until class is over, and she shows no signs of stopping her dissertation. 

“As for the class project: In pairs of two, you will research a constellation extensively to create a presentation on its formation, who cataloged it, and the Greek myth that may accompany it. Please note that this is the first and last time we will talk about constellations in this class, since they are not cosmic phenomenons but instead, a mere roadmap to the objects and themes we will be focusing on. Consider this strictly as an opportunity to familiarize yourselves with another classmate and show me your interest and effort in the subject. That concludes our syllabus,” Thank God, Jisung thinks. 

 “Any questions?” She glances around at a hand that floats in the air, near the front of the room, “yes?” 

“Will we be able to select our partners?” 

“No. Partners will be assigned at the end of the week. Yes?” She calls on another hand. 

“As for the constellations,” Wait, that’s it! That’s the voice—that’s your voice, he’s completely sure of it!  “Will you assign those as well?” 

Jisung elongates his neck to try and peek over the heads in his way. It is you, he’s positive now, but you’re turned away from him, and he can’t fully make out which ‘back of the head’ is your ‘back of the head.’ The echo in the hall makes it nearly impossible to pinpoint who just spoke which means he can’t pinpoint you. For some reason, he finds himself slightly panicking, desperate to finally see you in person.

He follows Professor Hwang's line of sight as she answers that she’ll assign the constellations on Friday too, and finally finds you, seated between a few other students. A few more questions are thrown around, but his eyes never leave you, anticipating the moment he catches a glimpse of your face. 

Naturally, his first instinct is to approach you as soon as class is out, but when he sees you spin around to pick up your bag that hangs off your chair, he finds himself glued to his own flimsy seat. Feet stuck to the ground, legs not budging, and air hitched in his throat at the sight of you. 

You’re so, so much prettier than he could have imagined with whatever unoriginal features he tried to piece together in his lacking mind, and that fact makes him both exhilarated and completely nauseous. 

He’s barely been looking at you for a few seconds when he feels his insatiable cock growing fast in the confines of his pants, with no regard for its owner and the fact that he has to stand up within the next minute or so to exit the hall. Jisung curses under his breath, awkwardly rising to his feet when most of his classmates leave, his bag clutched tightly in front of his groin. He prays you don’t glance over, not even because he has a semi-hard on he’s failing to hide with dissimulation, but because he’s staring at you like some sort of freak and can’t seem to look away. 

There’s nothing he wants more than to come up to you and say hi and confess he’s the person you’ve been gaming with for months. He’s pictured it countless times before, you’d think he’d have it down by now, but your beauty is intimidating, and he simply cannot and will not make a fool of himself in front of you by greeting you with a raging boner. 

You walk out of the classroom and Jisung’s heart settles in his chest as he sits with his decision to stay anonymous for now. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

“She was obnoxious, you have no idea!” 

“My teacher wasn’t much different,” he admits, a small, knowing smile toying at his lips, “she seemed like a real bitch,” 

It’s later that same evening, and talking to you doesn’t really feel the same anymore. It’s much harder, because now, Jisung can vividly picture you, sitting in your chair with your hands on your keyboard and mouse. Every word you say, his imagination is right thereafter, picturing your pretty face clear as day in the forefront of his mind. 

The moment he got home, he fucked his fist until he came in his hand. It took about five minutes, and then he pumped another one out in the shower, (a much needed shower, at that) where he finally washed away the remains of the night before. 

After he had lunch with Mark and the other boys from his floor, they had invited him to play basketball. At the same time, however, he received a direct message from you, explaining you didn’t have any other classes for the day and asking if he could get on earlier. 

It’s a little ridiculous, but now that he’s seen you, now that he knows you’re so much closer than he initially thought, he can’t wait to talk to you again. And so he quickly came up with an empty excuse related to his studies, took the berating from his friends like a champ, and rushed upstairs to log into his PC and open up your chat. 

“Not only do we already have a project, but we don’t even get to pick our partners.” 

I know! He thinks. 

“Like,” you start, and he pictures the way your cheeks fill up with air as you let out a huff, “what if I get stuck with some weirdo?” 

Instantly, Jisung stops palming himself, letting his hand climb back up to the mouse slowly.

He probably shouldn’t let that innocent statement affect him as much as it does, but he can’t help it. He has the advantage, right? Or, at least it seems that way. 

When everything is laid out, he has the upperhand of knowing who you are—you haven’t seen him, yet… but what if you did see him, and he wasn’t at all what you were expecting? Or even worse, what if you got paired together for the project and you thought he was weird or the two of you didn’t get along? That option is far less likely, since there are well over fifty students in AST1002. 

“I don’t know,” you start, “I’m considering switching out of the class-” 

“No!” Wow. Good going, Jisung.

He catches his slip-up and quickly blurts out, “I-I mean, it might not be that bad! You should… at least give it a shot before you try to switch out, right?” 

“I guess you’re right… The add and drop period at my school is until next Friday, so I'll try it out until then.” 

Great! Perfect! Good save. The only problem now is: Jisung has a little over a week and a half to somehow convince you to stay in his class and at the same time, not completely butcher his introduction to you. Approaching you now seems practically impossible, but he needs you to stay in the class, even if it means he has to come up to you first. He can’t be bothered to care that his insistence is for his own selfish intentions, if it means getting to see you three times a week. 

“But anyway,” he clears his throat, changing the topic as quickly as possible, “how did your other class go?” 

“Much better than the first, the teacher let us out early once he covered the books we’d be analyzing this semester and attendance isn’t mandatory since most of the material is online or in the library. I think I’ll swing by there one of these days to see if I can get ahead on some of the assignments.” 

“Oh, so you’re a nerd?” You gasp and smack his character in-game a few times. He laughs, calling out, “okay, okay, truce! You’re not a nerd then, just an overachiever.”

“How so?” 

“We’re barely a day into the semester and you’re already trying your homework that I’m sure isn’t due for at least a few weeks,” 

You roll your eyes, knowing he’s right. With a bit of playful flirtation twisted into your tone, you hum out, “What can I say? I like to please.” 

One of his eyebrows perks up, “is that right?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He can hear your smirk through the screen, and now, he can vividly picture it, too. 

Jisung scoffs, backing away from your character so that he’s out of your sight. He cowers into a corner in game;  this way, you don’t notice how he stops moving when his left hand leaves the w,a,s,d keys to cup and rub his needy bulge. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

Wednesday’s class is somehow packed and entirely uneventful at the same time. The first of Professor Hwang’s dragging lectures is so loaded that Jisung actually thanks the heavens that he remembered to bring his laptop. Otherwise, his notebook would have been about halfway full already, and his hand? It would have fallen off. 

On another relevant note, he’s struggling to stay focused because today, he is sitting much closer to you. Intentionally, of course. There’s still a few rows between him and you, but in this new seat, he can glance at you as often as he’d like without straining his eyes or stretching out his neck to make his gawking painfully obvious. He can clearly make out your smooth skin, along with other details he wasn’t able to notice before like your beauty marks and your dainty earrings. You’re paying unfaltering attention to the class for the first hour, but after the sixty-minute mark, you appear to have become bored. He catches the way your pencil starts doodling along the corners of your notebook and it takes everything in him not to snort when you scribble down a wonky looking cat. 

He’s so distracted by you, that every couple of slides, he glances back to the projector to see that the class is now on an entirely different topic than the one he last managed to jot down. He doesn’t mind, though. You’re a much more enthralling sight than quasars and supernovas. 

Halfway through the lesson, you decide to peel off your little black cardigan and hang it on the back of your chair, exposing your arms and neck and shoulders to him. Your hair is tied up neatly right after, giving him all the more to gawk at and envision. Jisung has to remind himself that he’s in a classroom just so that he doesn’t start fantasizing about how it would feel to grip your hair up in a similar fashion and fill your throat up with his dick.

With great difficulty, he directs his focus to the board instead, typing quickly into his laptop all the notes he manages to catch before the slide changes again and Professor Hwang’s narrow eyes can scan the room to see who’s paying attention. 

When the class is over, you start talking with the girl next to you, aimlessly reaching back for your bag. The gesture makes your cardigan fall, and Jisung has to fully bite his tongue to keep himself from calling out your name and giving himself away. He waits to see if you’ll notice, or if someone nearby will alert you, but neither one happens. Instead, you stand up, still engrossed in your conversation, and make your way towards the door. Instantly, he jogs down the aisle and between the seats to grab it and wordlessly hand it to you, but by the time he makes a move to head in your direction, you’ve already left. 

He feels disappointed at first, but the feeling quickly shifts into relief. Wordlessly hand it to you? Does he want your first impression of him to be awkward and borderline rude? No and definitely no. This problem has a simple solution—it’s a blessing in disguise; he’ll take your cardigan home and bring it to you on Friday and maybe, if his courage allows, he can introduce himself then. 

“Hey! I noticed you left your sweater here last class. I brought it for you. Oh, and by the way, it’s me! I’m @sung.ie. How did I know it was you? I can recognize your voice across a huge lecture hall.”

Yeah… he’ll think more on that later. 

With your cardigan clutched in his fist, Jisung sighs, making his way outside and towards his bicycle. He tucks the clothing item into his backpack and pedals back home, wondering how he’s going to manage to give it back to you since you always get to and leave class before him.  

He knows some of his friends and dorm-mates have their own class today, they had exchanged schedules during lunch a few days ago, which leaves him to hope and pray you’ve decided to skip your class and get online. As he parks his bicycle downstairs and locks it, he slips his phone from his pocket and opens discord, but your bubble remains gray and cold. You’re offline. 

Maybe you haven’t gotten home yet. He checks his phone again when he gets upstairs, and again when he goes inside his dorm, tossing his bag aside and crashing on his bed. He checks after losing a round of candy crush, and again after replying to a text from his mom. 

By the looks of it, you were in class, or at the very least, not available for the moment. Jisung sighs, pretending he’s not actually as disappointed as he feels. It seems a bit dramatic to feel the need to kill time until he gets to talk to you again so he resorts to doing physics homework—a short baseline his teacher assigned that wouldn’t be graded—and tricking his brain into thinking the former is not what he’s actually doing. 

When he pulls his bag off his desk chair to grab his laptop, your cardigan comes into view, and he pauses to look at it. He sits like this for a moment, wondering if he should fold it nicely on his dresser so he can remember to take it to you, but his hands act before his mind can catch up, reaching in and basically shoving the material toward his face. 

With his nose buried in your scent, Jisung inhales deeply, sinking into his chair as his legs grow weaker. The trace of your floral softener is the first aroma he gets, and then, the smell of your perfume peeks through, soft and sweet and very fitting for you. Once more, his treacherous hands are acting for themselves and he’s suddenly undoing his belt single-handedly. 

Once his dick, growing by the minute, is out and clutched in his palm, he finally retracts your sweater. With little hesitation, he wraps it around his erection and pumps once, throwing his head back in immediate relief.

It’s a fucking miracle that his room is the last one at the end of the hall, and that his next door neighbors, Renjun and Jaemin, are both in their afternoon lectures, because nothing would have been able to muffle the wanton moan that rips from his chest as he strokes himself with your scent. His hips are bucking up into the air, and in only a few minutes, he’s broken a slight sweat. His balls tighten from sheer sensitivity at the act of fucking something directly related to you. 

A cry of your name, followed by a few more pumps and he’s coming inside your mangled cardigan, his white release breaching the thin material. It seeps through it like light through a veil, gathering thickly on top before spreading into a dark, wet patch. There’s a shudder that passes through his bones as he sits back, burying his cock into the fabric and keeping it there until he’s given up every last drop. 

The only thing that snaps him from his post-nut bliss, is the distinct discord ring-tone that blasts through his headset. His computer monitor turns on as your icon appears and simultaneously, his heart and dick both twitch. 

“Hello?” With his output device swung over his head, he presses the green ‘answer’ button and speaks into the mic, hiding his slight shortness of breath with a yawn. 

“I’m so glad you answered,” you beam, and he does too, “I was worried I had called while you were in class or something,” 

As he speaks, he wipes the remnants of his cum off with your cardigan and puts it aside on his desk, tucking his softening (and still very sensitive) dick away into his boxers, “No, you’re good. I had a class earlier today but now I’m free.” 

“What a relief,” you sigh, “Would you want to have a little homework ‘sesh’ with me? I just found out the library doesn’t have any available labs. I doubt I’ll be able to concentrate much with you but at least I'll be in good company.”

“Like an e-date?” 

“We can call it that,” you grin, then he pictures your expression becoming a gloom one to match your slightly sadder tone as you admit, “Sometimes I wish we went to the same school so we could meet up and study at a coffee shop.” 

He snorts, unable to help but crack a joke, “Like a real date?” 

Your laugh makes his heart swell slightly. When you reply, “Maybe,” it starts flipping wildly in his chest. 

God, you can’t even begin to imagine how badly he wants that. 

“That would be nice,” he agrees humbly, a blush creeping on his cheeks. “What class are you gonna study for?” 

There’s a pause before you speak again where you hum in thought, flipping through a few pages and shuffling through your bag. Jisung joins you, grabbing his laptop and school supplies, “I have a project for my astronomy class. It’s related to constellations and I wanna start researching them so that I can make an outline for the assignment,” 

He looks through his math notes with his brows furrowed down, “I thought she was gonna assign them on Friday?” 

Your icon flickers as you reply, “She is, but I want to—wait. How did you know that?” At your words and the realization of his untimely slip up, Jisung’s body goes rigid. He can only imagine the confusion on your features, and he’s quite relieved you can’t see the look on his. If his eyes were to open any wider, he’s sure they might just slip out of his head. 

“Oh, um,” he clears his throat mechanically, then gulps in an effort to lubricate it and keep his voice steady, assertive, certain. “You mentioned it on Monday, remember?” 

“Did I?” You didn’t, but he really hopes you think you did. “Probably,” At that, he lets out the air he’s holding, shaking his head slightly at himself for being so careless. 

“But um, yeah,” he starts before you can give it any further thought, “If she’s assigning them Friday why are you working on it today?” 

“Cause she’s also assigning partners on Friday, and I don’t really know anyone besides the girl who sits next to me and I doubt I’ll get paired with her. I want to make sure my grade is secured, you know? I’ve never liked group projects. I feel like all the work gets dumped on me.” 

He’s still not entirely sure what you mean to do, or how you intend to create a blueprint of sorts without knowing what it was for, and so he stops flicking through his page of notes to look up at his monitor and ask, “But if you don’t know which constellation you’re gonna work on, how are you gonna make an outline?” 

You ponder his question for a moment, then mumble out, “She didn’t mention a rubric or anything, so I figured that as long as I plan out the different sections and give the project a structure, half of the work is cut out, right? I can just assign parts at that point.” 

“You’re that kinda person in a group project? I’m sorry to whoever gets partnered with you,” He’s not sorry, not at all. He’s rather envious, actually, despite his attempts to sound indifferent or amusing. Being granted time to spend with you at your place or his, or at the library or the local campus cafe, would be a no less than perfect ice breaker. Jisung would make sure you never felt like all the research and assembling depended solely on you—in fact, he could see himself now, spending countless hours perfecting the details of his assigned part and inquiring about other suggestions to improve the project, just to impress you or at the very least, satisfy you. The reality that someone else would get to do all of that in his place is disheartening. 

You guys had rarely ever talked about school before now, since neither of you actually were enrolled in any classes when you started chatting, but now that it’s relevant, he feels like he understands a whole different side of you. You’re organized, and obviously very studious. Hell, you’ve been itching to get started on assignments that haven’t even been assigned yet. You’re responsible, dependable, funny, beautiful, and every time he thinks of you lately, he realizes that his innocent crush is slowly becoming an insatiable one.   

“Hey! I’d be very nice if it was you, you know. Show you some favoritism,” the corners of his lips twitch upwards—“But I’m also glad it’s not you,”—and fall down again. 

“What? Why?” He tries to not sound too offended. 

“I’d end up talking your ear off, Sung.” 

“I’m already used to that, don’t mind it. Kinda like it, actually.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” He nods curtly, even though there’s a monitor and an entire school campus between you and him and he knows you have no way of seeing his gesture. There's a moment of silence that you spend taking a brief breath as a glow tinges your cheeks. 

With a stifled laugh, you open your mouth again, “I think it’s just because you like me that you tolerate my rambling,” 

“No.” He’s quick to clarify, “I really do like it.” He loves it. 

“And me?” your voice is much quieter, almost giving the impression that you’re shy in asking something so decisive and direct. Jisung, emboldened by your vulnerability, and the distance the screen puts between you two, answers with certainty. 

“I like you, too.” 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

 “The constellation project, as I mentioned during your first class, is a tool for you to acquaint yourself with your classmates. It will be due in 3 weeks, and you can check the syllabus for specifications regarding that. After today, there will be no changing partners or constellations so should you need any changes to be made, you have until class is dismissed. Listen closely as I read out the pairs for the project. I will not repeat myself.” 

The sharp tone he’s growing more and more distaste for by the day drowns out as Jisung glances over at you. Today, you’re sporting a bone-colored long sleeve and corduroy pants with half of your hair held back in a shiny clip. You look ravishing. Truthfully, he can’t really tell if you’re wearing makeup or not—although he concludes it doesn’t matter. Your features are soft and pretty nonetheless, and your cheeks have turned rosy from the dropping autumn temperatures. 

“Yu Karina will be partnered with Lee Heesung. Your constellation is Cassiopeia.”

When you walked into the lecture hall this morning, there was a hot coffee cup with the campus cafe’s logo on it clutched in your hands, which you sipped on while shivering. Taking your usual seat, you greeted the girl next to you, who Jisung now knew was called Yu Karina. 

The dark haired girl perked up when Professor Hwang called her name and waved down the aisle at who he can only assume is Lee Heesung, her partner, then whispered something to you. You looked over at the boy and back at Karina, nodding and giggling with her. 

“Jennifer Huh, partnered with Ning Yizhuo,” Professor Hwang referenced her other list, “Constellation: Cancer.” 

The two girls greet each other with a look and a smile, but Jisung pays little mind. He’s listening intently—for the first time—in anticipation of hearing one of your names be called. He doesn’t exactly know your full name, only a nickname he refers to you as, the one attached to your discord handle. Otherwise, pinpointing you that first day of class would’ve been much easier. 

“Park Jay and Lee Sohee, your constellation is Orion.” 

Sitting there, he realizes that in all the months you’ve talked, he’s never once asked for your full first name. Is that strange? What kind of friend is he if he doesn’t even know your name? In all fairness, you never asked for his, either, so he supposes it’s okay. Would have been useful to know, though, at times like this. 

After his small confession of ‘like’ on Wednesday, the two of you went on studying your respective subjects, with the occasional (and inevitable) distraction here and there. Admittedly, he thought his comment would be forgotten rather quickly. It wasn’t like he outwardly poured his heart out to you, so he figured you’d move on and just crack a joke or two about it later. There was a change, though; a strikingly obvious one to Jisung, who hangs on your every word like it’s a tether that keeps him from floating. And, even if he didn’t pay such close attention to you, there’s no way he could have missed the new flirtatious ambiance that flourished afterwards. Flirting with you is not uncommon by any means—the two of you playfully tease each other with frequency, but it’s nothing he’d allow himself to look into too much, for his own sake. 

That changed in the hours following his comments. All of Wednesday evening, the two of you went back and forth, feeding each other compliments in the form of banter. Again, he thought it would end there, but on Thursday afternoon when you logged on, he asked how your progress was going with the outline, to which you texted back, “I was thinking of you all day. Didn’t get around to doing much else.” 

It wasn’t the only message from you that nurtured his feelings, either. There were enough substantially flirty messages from your conversation that night, that he was able to scroll through them and reread them a few times before bed. 

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 6:49PM

hi did you smile when you saw my name pop up on your phone just now

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 8:22 PM

you’re so cute

i can barely think 

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 9:14 PM

i feel like my day doesn’t make sense if we don’t talk 

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 10:58 PM

i should get to sleep 

but i don’t wanna stop texting you

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 12:02 AM

goodnight, sung <3 miss you til’ you’re back

Now, as he eyes you with a boyish, lovesick gaze, watching you doodle your stupid little drawings as you await your assignment, he finds himself praying for the courage to come up to you after class.

Professor Hwang calls your name next, something he only realizes at the fitting similarity of your nickname and the way your pen meets the table in alert to being called on, head lifting up and eyes blinking expectantly. 

“Your partner will be,” 

Jisung holds his breath, chanting in his head ‘please, oh, please let it be me,’

 “Lee Chan.” 

Wishful thinking never got anyone anywhere, then. He ignores the way his heart sinks into the pits of his stomach, unable to help but observe your curious gaze as it looks around the filled seats. For a fleeting moment, you meet his eyes, but he doesn’t react or claim to be Lee Chan who you so evidently are in search of, and so you pass him and keep studying the aisles. After a few seconds, you find no one gazing back, even after you slightly stand to peer above the nearby heads that obscure your view. 

“Your constellation is-” 

With a cautious raise of your hand, you interrupt Professor Hwang gently, “Excuse me, Professor, but I don’t think my partner is here.” 

For a moment, her lazer-like gaze looks like it could light you on fire, a consequence of daring to interrupt her, but it softens only slightly as she realizes the truth in your statement, scanning the room herself and calling out for the missing boy. Upon receiving no call back, she thinks for a moment, then looks back down at her clipboard and crosses something out. 

“I did mention attendance was mandatory, didn’t I?” This she mutters to herself, “No matter. Instead, you’ll work with,” she gives the paper another once over, then clicks her pen and speaks, “Park Jisung.” 

In an awkward burst of both excitement and confusion, Jisung darts out of his chair. His knee hits his desk with a clang, and his laptop would have gone flying if it wasn’t for his quick hands that catch it before it can fall. The loud ruckus turns several heads in his direction, including Professor Hwang’s and more importantly, yours. 

Feeling an awful lot like a deer caught in headlights, Jisung blinks as the two of you make eye-contact, then he takes his seat again, very quickly by the way. “Uh, that’s me,” he announces, heat spreading across his face and eyes darting around, “Sorry.” 

Does he feel more sorry to his teacher and classmates for disrupting the classroom, or to himself and you for the absolute fool he has just made of himself? As much as he’d like to tear his gaze away from yours and cast it to the ground in embarrassment, it remains stuck on you, awaiting your impending reaction. 

You’re rather unsure how to feel, though given, a little surprised at the commotion. You offer him a small smile through pursed lips, and Jisung nods, willing with all his might for a hole to open in the ground beneath him and swallow him.  

“Thank you, Mr. Park, for your remarkably clear confirmation. Your constellation is Gemini.” 

You turn in your chair to face the front again, scribbling down his name in the corner of your notebook, as well as the constellation you’d been assigned.

“He’s cute,” Karina comments to you as you look over at her, and you finally let out a small laugh you had been holding in. 

“He is. Clumsy,” you snort, “but cute.” 

“We both got cute partners. We should meet up at the library later and all get started on the project together,” 

You nod enthusiastically, going back to your outline that sits at the ready on your laptop screen and making quick work of labeling the different sections evenly. If it wasn’t so obvious for you to spin around and steal a glance, you might have done so again. You’re certainly tempted to, thinking back to seconds ago and realizing you hadn’t really noticed him the last two classes. 

Jisung watches your exchange with his dignity at serious risk. He’s entirely unable to hear or make out what you’re saying to each other, and it makes his pulse pick up and his mind race. He considers many things as he watches the two of you talk: firstly, asking to change his partner, but then realizing that would be an awful idea. Once you knew who he was, how would you ever forgive him for immediately ditching you? Absolutely not. Cowering had gotten him nowhere so far. 

Then, he considers switching out of the class himself, and disappearing, never to reveal himself to you—but that wasn’t the right thing to do either. Incapable of checking out of your life so quickly and denying himself the treat that is seeing you three times a week (and now, possibly more), he cans that idea, too. 

As Professor Hwang finishes reading off the list of names, he begins planning what he’ll actually say to you, as that conversation is just minutes away. There’s less than a half-hour left of class, which means he has to think hard and fast. 

As he busies himself with the grueling task of picking an appropriate and redeeming introduction, he doesn’t hear the new instructions from Professor Hwang, which are to find your partner and begin brainstorming, as well as exchanging schedules to set aside time outside of class to work on the presentation. A shadow falls over his desk and consumes his work space in darkness. When his curiously squinted eyes trail up to find the source, only to land on you, hovering above him with your things clutched in your arms, he grips his seat to keep from jumping out of it for the second time today. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

So much for having time to figure out how to approach you. His heart does a leap of surprise in his chest in place of his physical body, and he resists the urge to clutch it.

“No.” He replies shortly. 

With your unfaltering, kind smile still present on your face, you laugh softly and place your things down, introducing yourself. 

“You’re Ji-sun, right?” 

“—Sung.” he politely corrects you. When you don’t immediately react, he wonders if you had even heard him. He doesn’t put it past himself to have imagined that he replied to you, between his sweating palms and nervous jittering, and your pretty self sitting just a foot away, he’s barely keeping it together.  After a moment that feels infinitely longer than it actually is, you raise your eyebrows slightly, round lips parted to ask your question with a palpable hesitance. 

“W-what?” 

“Jisung,” he quickly replies, pronouncing the ‘g’ clearly and masking the way his eyes widen with a heavy blink that honestly, may not serve as any better of a guise. He pleads with himself to get his shit together but luckily, you don’t seem to notice. 

“Oh, sorry… Sorry, It’s just—nevermind. Hi, Jisung.” 

“Hi, Y/N.” He savors the way your name feels on his tongue but keeps his enjoyment brief. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” you start, lifting the screen of your laptop to reveal the very same outline you had started working on during your last call with him, “but I already made an outline. If you wanna scrap it and start all over, we can—” 

“No, It’s fine, we can use this,” when you give him an unsure look, he smiles reassuringly, “It looks brilliant.” 

“Thank you.” There’s a pause that is filled only by you clearing your throat, “Ok, I have a literature class right after this one on Mondays and Wednesdays. The rest of my classes are online, so I’m free at any time, really. I usually like to study at the computer labs in the library, it’s nice and private there and I find it much easier to focus. But if you don’t want to go there, we could always go to the cafe or the square for some fresh air. Oh, and either one of our dorm rooms works fine if you’re okay-” 

To experience your presence on a phone call is one thing, but to experience it in real life, with your clear voice so arresting and your silky, smooth lips within reach, is absolutely mesmerizing. He’s fighting the urge to glance down at your mouth, but it’s becoming increasingly harder to sustain eye contact, as lovely as he decides your eyes are. Another thing that is becoming exponentially harder, and more sensitive all the same, is his cock, springing to life with an eagerness to greet you. 

There’s a bit of panic that flashes across his features as he senses the strain it’s causing in his pants, and only when you look down at your outline does he dare to sneak a glance down at his own groin where as expected, a noticeable imprint was beginning to develop. In a desperate gesture, he slides his notebook over his lap, suppressing a hiss, and leans forward to pretend to use his own laptop. 

“Any of those work for me,” 

“Okay, great,” You notice the time and turn back to him. “You can just message me when you’re free.”

“Sure.” 

“And here’s my number—” you reach over, sliding the protective notebook from his lap and placing it on your desk, scribbling your number in the corner. Jisung immediately readjusts his hoodie, throwing the hem of it over his boner. Professor Hwang dismisses the class as you pass it back. 

“Call me whenever you’re free.” With a spin of your heel, you wave goodbye to him and rejoin Karina, who waits for you  at the door with her partner.

Jisung lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and looks down at the number you wrote. Beside the digits, written in very neat handwriting, might he add, sat perched on a wobbly branch a little black cat that he recognized from his hours of staring as one of your doodles. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The time is 4:33PM, and Jisung has drafted over a dozen messages on the iMessage app addressed to your number. None of them have exactly made it to you yet, courtesy of his thumb that keeps pressing backspace and wiping out any trace of a remotely embarrassing text. It’s the next day and no introduction or invitation to meet up seems like it’s good enough to send, though he knows that inevitably, he has to text you first. You left your number behind with the doodle that he has since stuck to the corner of his PC monitor, but you never took down his; so now, the ball is in Jisung’s court, and he knows that if he waits too long, you’d think he was avoiding you or the project altogether. 

Realistically, he knows a simple “Hi, it’s Jisung,” will suffice, but he can’t bring himself to send you such an unoriginal and boring message. After pondering for a moment, he then decides the best solution would be to do some research, and then call you with his findings—this way, his interest in the project would be clear, and he knows how important that is to you. 

At once, he peels your cum-stained cardigan off of his lap, though not before stealing a glance at the day’s new additions, and places it aside. He tucks his spent dick into his short and turns on his monitor, typing the name of the constellation into Google and investigating nearly every website he could find with any useful information. 

In the nicest handwriting he can manage, Jisung bullets a list of all the facts and history he could find on ‘Gemini��� within the hour, including the stars that make up the constellation, the myth behind it, and other relevant statistics. It isn’t until he has filled up an entire page front and back—partially—that he picks up his phone again and makes another attempt at contacting you. 

Feeling slightly more confident, he types up his message. 

To: 555-111-0205

hi, it’s jisung from astronomy. i did some research and i wanted to show you what i found. let me

know if you’re free to exchange notes. Sent at 5:52 PM.

Jisung rereads over his message for any flaws, though there’s nothing he can do about it now that it’s sent, anyway. After he deems it an okay first message, he takes a breath and moves to put his phone down, but it buzzes in his hand instead. 

Incoming call at 5:54 PM From: 555-111-0205

“Hi-”

“Hi! Sorry to just call unannounced but I’m walking to the library with all my stuff and I can’t really text. I was able to book us a computer lab for the next two hours so If you want, we—can you hear me?” 

He sits up straighter, “Yeah! Yes, I can hear you,” 

“Oh, good, so—wait, hello?” Your voice shifts in volume and proximity, as if you pulled your phone from your ear to check the call screen, then brought it back, “Oh, sorry. I-I thought I had accidentally called someone else… nevermind.” Instantly, Jisung realizes instantly that you must have recognized his voice. It makes sense, seeing as you’re used to hearing it specifically on calls. You seem to show no further suspicion as you continue speaking, though, but perhaps, he should keep talking on the phone with you to a minimum. 

“Do you think you can make it? Otherwise I can go work on my own. I saw your text and instantly booked the room. Sorry for not checking in with you first,” 

“I’ll meet you there,” He replies quickly, grimacing at the instinctual effort it takes to try and make his voice deeper. 

“Okay! Great. I’ll see you there, then.” You hang up, and then your text message comes through with the lab room information just minutes later. 

Jisung all but lunges out of his chair and rushes to face himself in the mirror, taking in his reflection. Besides his hair that looks slightly disheveled, he looks alright. He doesn’t want to make you wait long for him, so he quickly grabs his laptop and his notes, shoves them all into his bag, and flies out of his dorm room with the laces of his sneakers left untied.  

In the brightly, yellow-lit hallway, Mark and Chenle are popping out of their respective rooms, a basketball clutched under the younger boy’s arm.

“We were just about to come grab you,” Chenle starts, “Let’s play some ball. Jeno’s meeting us at the court,”

“Can’t,” Jisung shakes his head, “I’m going to the library,” he tries to not get offended at the way the two boys snort loudly in disbelief, looking at each other as if they’ve both had the same thought. 

“Yeah, right.” Chenle scoffs. 

With a blink, Jisung replies meekly, “I’m serious.” 

“Since when do you go to the library?” Mark brows pinch and he adds, “It’s the start of term. You’re already studying?”

“Since now, I guess. I have a project for a class so I’m gonna go meet up with my partner at the library, but I’ll catch you guys later.” 

“Alright, alright. Oh—remember there’s a party next week at Jaehyun’s frat for syllabus week.” 

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” His answer doesn’t seem to fully convince Mark, Chenle, or even himself, but they seem satisfied enough, because they let Jisung go without any more pestering. He flies down the flight of stairs and out the front door of the dormitory. 

The cold September air is biting at this time in the evening, feeling particularly cool on the apples of his cheek, which glow from the light layer of sweat that develops during his jog over to the library. It’s a considerable distance away, which is part of the reason why he, in his two years of being a student at the university, has never seriously stepped foot inside of it. Studying in his room is much more convenient, but you seem to like the library, so the twenty-minute-walk there, or in this case, fifteen-minute-jog, will simply have to be adopted as a new way to get in some brief exercise a few times a week. 

More than likely, you have already arrived, and Jisung doesn’t want to make you wait too long for him, especially since there’s a two-hour time limit on the room and he intends to spend as much time with you there as he can. He wipes his cheeks with his gray sleeves and climbs up the stairs of the building quickly, swiping his student card at the door and stepping inside. 

The ceiling is massively tall, seemingly taller than when he once saw it during freshman orientation, and the endless rows of shelves are filled with books, ranging from thin, colorful novels to thick, leather-bound classics. It’s quieter than he expects it to be, even for a library, and he clearly can hear the pitter patter of his feet as he follows the sign labeled ‘Study Rooms and Computer Labs.’ 

The guy at the reception desk in this section seems to be a volunteer, his student ID and name tag shining on his shirt. He glances up from his book when Jisung approaches, nodding once. There’s an awkward silence that feels rather loud as Jisung fumbles with his phone, flipping it between his clammy hands as he searches for your message. 

“Computer Lab 4C?” 

Wordlessly, the boy nods again, then slides over a clip-board with a sign-in sheet clamped to it. 

It’s surprising to see how many lab spots are filled up so early into the term, names scribbled along the lines and time-slots. Your name stands out, partly because of your familiar handwriting, but particularly because of the empty line beside it, where he signs in before handing the clip-board back. 

“Down the hall, second door on your right.” 

It’s Jisung’s turn to bob his head once and the boy looks back down at his book. He makes his way down the hall until he reaches the correctly labeled door. His hand reaches for the handle, but he withdraws it. Should he knock? Or maybe send you a text? Or both? 

To: 555-111-0205

hey again. i’m outside :) Sent at 6:18 PM.

The door creaks open from the taps of his knuckles bumping against it, and he peeks his head in timidly, finding you sitting in one of the desk chairs, nearly hidden behind your laptop and a stack of books. You look up over the screen, eyes squinting in a smile. 

“Oh, I had left the door open for you,” you stand up, holding out a cup for him, “and I got you coffee… didn’t know how you liked it so I just got you the same thing I order,” 

There’s a fluttering in his stomach as he sets his bag down. There’s no chance he can manage to meet your eyes after such a gesture so he casts them to the ground instead, graciously reaching out to receive with both hands the drink you offer him, “You didn’t have to,” he mumbles, “but thank you. I’m sure your order is great,” 

“I wanted to! It’s just—I mean, I did drag you out of your room in the cold and on really short notice—A hot coffee was the least I could do,” you shrug, “One of my friends works at the cafe and I was there doing some work for my literature class before I got your message and I figured I’d grab us both something before I headed over here… Sorry, I’m talking too much. Here, sit down.” 

He’s not exactly sure what to say, so he takes his seat beside you in silence, but not without a small smile decorating his face. The notes he had taken down to show you are retrieved from his bag, as well as his laptop. There’s a low screech of your chair dragging across the floor, and he turns to find you’ve scooted closer and you're leaning forward with your cheek resting on your palm, eyes intently looking at his research. 

“It isn’t much. I’m sure whatever you found is much more substantial, but I couldn’t show up empty handed.” Jisung explains, sliding the paper over to you. As your eyes scan the page, you make a few comments along the lines of ‘Oh, this is a good point,’ or ‘We should mention this.’

You seem to be very carefully reading his work. Meanwhile, he takes advantage of your preoccupation to let his eyes rake over your person. 

The first thing he notices is that you’re wearing a different cardigan, and he suddenly remembers your black one is still on his desk, unwashed and covered in his cum. Your hair looks soft, and when you mindlessly swing it over your shoulder, he catches a whiff of your lavender scented hair wash, and it makes him gnaw the inside of his cheek. You’re not quite close enough for him to catch the perfume you’ve decided to wear tonight, though he can vividly picture the gentle florals that linger still on your cardigan. His eyes trail down, and it’s only then that he notices your skirt—or blatantly, the length of your skirt. Your smooth thighs are exposed, full and fleshy and pressed together, and he suddenly wishes they were wrapped around his head. 

“Jisung? You okay?” 

“I–Yeah, sorry.” It’s clear that you’ve noticed his staring, and he all but rips his eyes away in embarrassment, “I was just wondering if you were cold,” He gestures down at your legs shyly, pretending the content he’d written on the paper was more interesting the sight of your plush thighs. 

For a moment he expects some harsh comment or outburst, but you laugh instead, smoothing the material down a bit, “No, not in here, at least. And the walk over was short, so,” His lips are pursed and his cheeks are burning, but you spare him from any further humiliation when you reach across him to turn the page over and quietly gasp, muttering some surprise under your breath at how extensive his work is. “This is really good. We can use pretty much all of it.” 

Failing to hide his beaming at your praise, he snaps his head over to you, “You think so?” 

“Yeah, I mean—,” The screen of your laptop changes over to a page of notes, “I pretty much wrote down all the same things. I’m actually so relieved, I was worried I might get paired up with someone who wasn’t gonna contribute.” 

“Bet you’re glad you didn’t switch out of the class now, huh?” 

Distracted in the notes and in the taste of his coffee, he misses your quick, confused glance his way. Smoothly recovering before he notices, you slowly nod and present to him the layout where you had already taken the liberty to assign him his designated parts. Not that he expected anything else; it’s endearing to see his name labeled over specific sections, color-coded in a blue, bolded font. He wastes no time in pulling up the screen of his computer, exchanging emails with you so the two of you can get to work on the shared document.

The time passes quicker than he hopes, and he realizes just how much he likes spending time with you. Talking with you online is one thing, but sitting beside you as you sip your drink and hum mindlessly, fingers typing away or flipping pages in a book? Completely different game. He’s sure that if it wasn’t because he relieved himself earlier today, he might have popped a boner from the simple act of being in your presence. 

Every once in a while, you make an occasional comment regarding a point or two you thought was worth mentioning or adding, and he’d oblige, making a note of it and sharing his thoughts here and there. Occasionally, he manages to steal a look at your thighs, which he swears you’re bouncing and squeezing together on purpose, but for the most part he keeps his focus on the task at hand. 

Towards the end of the night, there’s a moment where your hands brush his as you point something out on his screen, and Jisung swears he’s never felt more like a teenage boy in his life. He practically flinches at the contact, failing to mask his awkward reaction and pretending he really meant to fix his hair.

Bidding you farewell is possibly the most difficult of the tasks this evening, even more so than pretending he isn’t completely infatuated with and aroused by you for a whole two hours. When you stand from your seat and walk with him out of the study room, and subsequently, out of the library and into the cold, Jisung faces another of his many dilemmas related to you. He’s not sure if he should offer to walk you back to your dorm, or at the very least halfway there. Perhaps, offering you his jacket would be appropriate, since your skirt wasn’t doing much of a job at keeping you warm. 

“You live close by?” 

“Yeah! Just a 5 minute walk,” you point your index finger, “In that dorm right over there.” 

Jisung nods once, then decides to indulge his impulses. “Here,” he slides his hoodie off with a little less coordination than he would’ve liked, holding it out for you to take, “so you aren’t cold.” 

He can’t tell if your cheeks are red from the temperature again or from his gesture, but he hopes it’s the latter. The moment you take his sweater, pretty eyes wide in thanks, he sucks in a breath. It’s much chillier now that the sun is gone, and he fights the urge to chatter his teeth when he offers you a lopsided smile. 

“T-thank you,” you tie the sleeves around your waist, covering your lap. 

 “I’ll see you in class?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you nod, flashing him a final grin before you spin on your heel to head home. 

The twenty-minute-walk-fifteen-minute-jog back to his room feels eternal. All of his hair is standing on end, but picking up his pace too much means that the icy wind, which has so graciously decided to blow in his direction, would just become harsher. His palms soak up the little warmth on his stomach, tucked under his t-shirt, as he alternates between speed-walking and jogging. The minutes drag on and on until finally, his building comes into view and he breaks into a run. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The following morning when he walks into his astronomy class, he follows his usual routine of checking for you in your seat and is almost distraught when he finds it to be empty. It’s not like you to miss a class, and he contemplates reaching for his phone to check-in on you. It isn't until he pans his vision over to his own chair that he spots you. You’re accompanied by Karina and her partner, Heesung, taking up the empty seats beside his own. 

On your desk sit two coffee cups like the ones from last night, and he pulls his lip between his teeth to hide the grin that fights to break out.

You look up when you spot him, and Karina and Heesung look up, too. 

“Hi…” 

“Hi! Jisung, right?” Karina extends her hand out and he takes it, nodding to confirm, “I’m Karina and this is Heesung.” He mumbles another small hello to the boy, who acknowledges him before looking back at his computer.

“Good morning,” you greet as he sits, placing his cup on his desk. “You never told me whether you liked it or not, but I figured you’d grow to like it eventually.”

“I-thanks but,” 

“I know: Didn’t have to, but I wanted to. So just say thanks, yeah?” 

There’s a familiar burning on his cheeks that always seems to make an appearance when you’re around, but he doesn’t bother masking it this time. 

“I wanted to ask you if you would be free to study tonight?” 

Instantly, he bobs his head up and down, and you book the study room on your computer just moments before Professor Hwang strides inside the classroom, her glasses on the tip of her sharp, pointed nose. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The frat house where the seniors stay is practically next door to Jisung’s dormitory, which is why when Mark, Chenle, and Jeno come banging on his door on Saturday night, he realizes he can’t use walking so far in the cold as an excuse to stay home. He also can’t use studying as an excuse anymore, since Mark had already caught him leaving the dorm a few times throughout the week to go study with you. That, and he ran into Jeno as he was entering the library just the night before. 

“You’ve been studying plenty,” they’d say, or “We told you about the party last week, no way you’re not going.” 

Anyway—the point is, he’ll have to endure tonight, despite his wishes to stay close to his PC for the chance that you’d want to hop into a game. He’d prefer to spend the night talking with you, but that’ll just have to wait until tomorrow. With a somber look on his face, he shrugs on a jacket and opens the door for his friends, who practically drag him outside. 

Jeno slings his arm over the taller boy’s shoulders as if to prevent him from fleeing, and the four of them climb down the stairs and onto the path toward the frat. If Jisung strains his ears, he can already pick up on the sounds of the party, even from here. 

“You think Chaewon will be there?” Mark asks no one in particular, but the boys all respond simultaneously with groans of distaste. 

“You dated her three semesters ago, why do you care?” Chenle starts, “isn’t she seeing Jungwoo now, anyway?”  

“That’s exactly why I care,” Mark grumbles, foot kicking a rock along the pavement. “He’s one of the RAs. If he’s there—” 

“He’s always there,” Chenle interjects, earning a glare. 

“—then she’ll be there, too.” 

“So, what happened with… what’s her name,  Minjeong? Why don’t you hang out with her?” 

“Nah,” He turns to Jeno, “She’s sweet and all, but I found out from Giselle that her and Chaewon are friends, so,” 

There’s a chorus of understanding, albeit a bit pitiful, “aah’s” and “oh’s” as the building comes into view. A few people are gathered at and around the entrance while others litter the parking lot with phones and solo cups in their hands as they wait for friends. Among them, and Jisung has to do a double take to make sure, he spots Karina, who waves someone down from the direction of the main courtyard. For a moment, he thinks it might be you who appears from between the treeline, but it’s Heesung who jogs over to meet her and he realizes how silly his thought was in the first place. 

In the months he’s known you, you’ve never once brought up a party. In retrospect, you don’t seem like the type to like partying at all. He can picture you clearly now, tearing through textbooks or novels for your literature class, or maybe even typing away to him on Discord and asking if he was online. 

He isn’t and can’t be tonight, and he’s very sorry about that, for the record. 

Maneuvering through the crowd of tipsy college students isn’t too difficult,and neither is their entry. The door is propped open, and Jaehyun, with his signature snapback that he wears backwards on his dark hair, calls them over from the drink bar. 

“First problem I see here,” he starts, “is that none of you have a cup in your hand.” 

“We’ve barely made it through the door, man,”  Mark laughs, clapping up Jaehyun and moving aside so he can greet the rest of the guys. 

“That’s no excuse, you should be sipping on something by now.” He waves his arm, “Take a look around, boys! This is what life is gonna look like for you guys next year—and the year after for you, Jisung.” 

Jisung gives a curt, disinterested nod amidst being handed some fruity, fizzy, white claw resemblant that probably wouldn’t taste much different from an Alka-Seltzer. He cracks it open upon being prompted to by Jaehyun, who initiates a “cheers” between the friend group. The moment the alcohol touches his tongue, Jisung grimaces, taking a few long chugs in hopes that the effect will kick in quicker and make the long night that awaits him a little less long. 

“Do you know if Chaewon is here?” 

Wordlessly, Jaehyun fixes his cap and points a single finger toward the couch, where Chaewon sits besides Jungwoo, leaning in to hear him over the music and giggling at whatever he says in her ear. The boys look over at the couple, then quickly glance back at Mark, whose face falls despite the fact that he knew to expect this. 

“Tough,” Jeno gives him a pat on the shoulder, “Hope you have better luck the rest of the night. I’ve gotta bounce,” 

“Yo, what do you mean bounce?” 

He gestures toward a girl standing near the beer pong table, who looks slightly familiar to Jisung, though he can’t quite put his finger on it, and smirks, “She smiled at me the moment we walked in. I’ll see you later, but I honestly hope I don’t.” 

The realization that his friends, in search of their hook-ups for the night, would eventually be abandoning him one-by-one kicks in just then, inviting Jisung to down the rest of his bubbly drink in one go. 

Mark rolls his eyes, “You ever notice Jeno is always the first one to get a girl?” His comment earns a few hums of agreement.

“I’m gonna go find Jaemin,” with his phone clutched in his hand, Chenle turns towards the door, “he just texted me he’s outside with Sullyoon and her friend.” 

“Wait, Jaemin is—he’s setting you up and not me?” Chenle only shrugs at Mark’s question, replying with a blunt and concise “yeah.” 

“I’m not a dog like Jeno though, so I’ll definitely see you guys later.” 

As if noticing he was facing the same unfortunate fate as Jisung, Mark turns to the youngest boy with a fearful look in his eyes. Jisung only shakes his head and takes a quick look around, “I’m not planning on hooking up with anyone here, so…” At this, the boy sighs in relief, handing Jisung another drink in solidarity. The two lean against the counter as Jaehyun looks between them, snorting. 

“Mark, there’s so many girls here.” 

“I know, but—” 

“But Chaewon.” 

Mark nods, echoing Jaehyun in a quiet, maybe even embarrassed voice, “But Chaewon…” 

“Don’t worry, I get it,” he adds sympathetically, “I’m caught up on my ex, too.” 

“Uh…” there’s a pause. “Which one?” This comment lands Mark a shove, playful, for the most part. He rubs his shoulder and hisses while Jaehyun, on the other hand, sloshes around the little liquid left in his cup and grabs the closest bottle of alcohol to him, along with whichever random mixer he finds first.

“The only one that really mattered.” He tilts his newly filled red cup back to drink from it, but his eyes peek over the rim and he pulls it from his lips to sigh out,  “Speak of the devil and she doth come,” he raises his brows and announces, “there she is now.” 

Following his line of sight, Jisung trails his vision toward the front entrance and at once, the sight makes each and every one of his limbs seize up. There’s a twisting and turning in his stomach that almost invites the seltzer he chugged to make a reappearance, and he’s pretty sure the color has drained from his face as he watches you walk inside the frat house behind Karina and Heesung. 

So many things go through his mind in such a short amount of time that he fears he may have had some sort of out-of-body experience or hallucination episode; it wasn't really you he was seeing, it couldn’t be. The way your skirt clings to your hips makes him grip his cup tighter within his sweating palm, and the lacy, corset top you’ve decided to wear, which shows off a tasteful bit of cleavage, causes him to swallow down the saliva that had pooled on his tongue. 

It was a more provocative outfit than he’d even seen you wear, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Jaehyun opened his mouth to speak, he’s sure he would’ve instantly become bricked up. 

“And of course she’s wearing that shirt…” Jaehyun fixes his cap for the second time tonight and straightens out his shirt, “Alright, wish me luck.” 

It’s not like Jisung would have interjected anyway, he didn’t really have the grounds to, but he couldn’t even entertain the thought before Jaehyun headed in your direction with decisive confidence. Part of him hopes he was referring to someone else as his ex, perhaps even Karina, since there isn’t another girl in your immediate vicinity besides her, but his bit of hope is crushed as he spots Heesung’s hand intertwined in hers. Surely, Jaehyun wouldn’t be coming up to her if she showed up with someone to his party. It leaves him to reach his regretful conclusion just as his friend and you make eye contact, recognition flashing across your features, along with something else. 

Unable to torture himself further by watching your exchange, Jisung tears his eyes away and grabs another drink to make this very, very long night ahead of him somewhat bearable. He turns to Mark, who he didn’t even realize had been talking this whole time, but the loud music and the cloudiness in his mind muffle out his speech. 

“—I mean this just sucks! I guess we still have each other, maybe we can find some girls who—” 

When did you even date Jaehyun? You hadn’t mentioned him once in the months he had known you. And also, why  did you date Jaehyun? Not that there was anything wrong with him, other than his habit of cycling through girls every semester. Mark’s “Which one?” comment had some truth to it, but he would have never expected you to have been on Jaehyun’s roster. It takes him a second to remember that Jaehyun is still his friend, but even then, he can’t fight the bitterness that settles in his bones. What did he mean when he said that you were the only one that mattered? How significant was your relationship with him? There’s too many questions circling his mind, and it isn’t until he downs the fifth drink that they start to blur. 

Currently, he’s passing the time conversing with Mark and following him around the party, but more importantly, avoiding you in fear he’ll steal a glance and you’ll be locking lips with your ex. He spots Jaehyun by the bathroom a bit into the night, but thankfully, you aren’t near him. It’s in the middle of a beer pong game with Mark when he dares to glance around in search of you. 

First, he spots Karina and Heesung, making out on the couch where Chaewon and Jungwoo once sat. You aren’t near them. Then he spots Jaemin and Chenle dancing with the girls they had met up with, but you aren’t dancing, either. 

He’s relieved to find you aren’t with Jaehyun when he spots him, finding instead that his friend is flirting it up with a different girl who is certainly not you. The sight completely pisses him off, and somehow makes him feel immense relief simultaneously. Right around this time, he decides he’s had more than enough of the party. You aren’t here anymore, and Jaehyun’s face is making him fucking sick. Mark is slurring his speech enough that he wouldn’t notice if Jisung just slipped, so he does just that, though he does make sure to mention to Chenle that he’s leaving on his way out so he can keep an eye on Mark.  

Outside, the cold is unbearable. The previously crowded lot is empty for the most part, except for a few people puffing clouds of smoke into the air by a bench. Not even the alcohol in his system is enough to warm him up, so he can’t even imagine how a joint could be worth sitting outside for.

The only other person sitting outside is squatted down by the curb with their knees curled up to their chest. As the autumn leaves crack under Jisung’s feet, they turn their head around. 

“I told you I don’t wanna—Jisung?” 

Your big eyes widen in his direction, and you shoot up from the ground. Jisung’s brow lowers in concern and he notices the only thing you have to cover up is a flimsy cardigan. You and your damn, flimsy cardigans. 

“What are you doing out here?” 

“Sorry for snapping I—sorry,” you shiver involuntarily as a gust of wind blows through, wrapping your arms around yourself, “I thought you were someone else.” 

There isn't a sliver of hesitation before Jisung shrugs off his leather jacket and begins to wrap it around you, grumbling, “Are you crazy? You must be freezing,” 

“I’m fine—“ 

“This should help,” 

“But- Jisung, how many of your jackets am I gonna take—” 

“As many as you need to.” Your lack of a response makes him look back up to meet your eyes, round and much warmer than the rest of you was right now. He clears his throat, guiding your sleeves into the arms of the jacket as he jokes, “or until you bring your own.” 

You smile, muttering a small ‘thank you’ as the warmth engulfs you, along with the smell of him and some cheap cologne only a college student would buy. He’s tugging the collar closer to cover up your exposed neck and chest, eyes flickering down at your bare skin despite being well aware that you’re looking. Where this newfound boldness came from tonight, he doesn’t know. What he does know is that his boldness is always rather short-lived when it comes to you, and tends to appear and disappear like random spurts of energy—he’ll take advantage of it this once. Especially now that he knows you’re Jaehyun’s ex and the most he might even get to do is gawk at you, he intends to make it worth it. 

“You must be freezing now, though,” you start, “should we go somewhere warm?” 

“How about the library?” 

You laugh, looking at him in disbelief, “The library isn’t open at this time, much less on the weekend,” “Right…” 

“Wanna go to mine?” Your suggestion makes his breath hitch for a second, but he manages to respond with decent clarity. 

“You live by the library, though. That’s like a half-hour walk. I don’t think you’ll make it that far without turning into an icicle,” 

“Well, I don’t really wanna go back inside…” he knows why, so he offers something else. 

“My dorm is five minutes away. We could go there if you want, b-but if you’d rather go somewhere else—”

“Okay,” you nod eagerly, “let’s go.” 

As Jisung leads the way, speed-walking to beat the chill that spreads through his newly uncovered limbs, he turns his face to you, watching as you tuck the lower half of your face into his coat. 

“I don’t know if you want to work on the project or—” 

“God no,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “I’m not that much of a buzzkill, dude.” You jog a little to catch up to his longer strides, “Besides, I have like three shots of Pink Whitney in me,” 

“Foul.” 

“I know. Can’t think about a project right now,” 

“I’ve had a bit to drink, too.” he admits.

“I can tell. You’re stumbling.” 

He snaps his head around, down to his feet, then back to you. “What? Am I?” 

There’s a small, stupid smile on your face as you shake your head. “No.”

He can’t pinpoint why this banter with you is so easy, why it feels so right. Or perhaps, he can, but regardless, his heart leaps in his chest as he scoffs, not fighting the shit-eating grin that spreads on his frosted cheeks. 

"It’s that building right over there,” he points.

“You weren’t kidding when you said it was close,”

The two of you climb the stairs and he opens the main door for you, watching you sigh out in bliss as you step into the warmth of the hall. You bounce around in a cute way that once more tugs at his heart-strings, still looking all puffed up and adorable in his jacket that entirely engulfs your frame. He leads you up another flight of stairs and onto the floor his room is at, and once the two of you stop in front of his door, he pats his jean pockets. 

“Oh my uh- my keys are in the pocket of the jacket.” 

You mimic his recent action, patting around until you find his keys, holding them out for him to take. 

Somewhat awkwardly, he fumbles with them until he manages to fit it into the lock, opening the door with one hand. He gestures for you to enter his room with a small shrug, “Make yourself at home.” 

As you step inside, Jisung makes it a point to quietly thank whatever higher power compelled him to make his bed this afternoon. The rest of his room wasn’t perfectly organized by any means, but at the very least, his bed, which you now sat at the foot of with your legs bouncing, was neatly made. 

“You have your own room?” You mutter in surprise as you look around the small space and notice the lack of a second bed. The tall boy beside you just shrugs again, toeing off his shoes in the corner as he pulls the door closed. 

“Yeah, uh… I’m one of the RAs for the sophomore class.” 

“Wow,” you sigh, “I wish! I mean, I love sharing a room with Karina, but it’s nice to have space for myself sometimes.” 

“That’s why you’re always at the library?” 

You nod, sliding your palms across his duvet, “It’s nice and quiet,” your fingers move to grip and release the material, and he blinks harshly to erase the sight of that from his mind before it causes him to spiral. It didn’t prove to be very useful, though, because your still-exposed thighs move and press together, just as they did at the library, and his dick gives a little twitch in response.

“I’ll get you some clothes to change into, that way you’re more comfortable.” he decides, more for his sake than yours. You don’t answer, continuing to look around, taking in the details of his computer that flashes in a bunch of different colors. 

“You know I gave up extra storage in my bedside table to be able to keep my PC? I let Karina take it to her side of the room so I’d have space for my setup.” 

Rummaging through his drawers, he pipes up, “you game?” as if it wasn’t something he already knew about you. 

“I love it. I stayed here for most of the summer just because I had my computer here.”  

Jisung picks out a pair of sweats for you and one for himself, along with a t-shirt he knows he recently washed, then he turns, handing it over to you. “I’ll change in the bathroom down the hall and then wait outside. You can crack the door open when you’re done,” 

“Thank you, Jisung.” 

There’s a gentle sincerity in your tone that makes him wanna say “anything for you,” but he settles for pursing his lips instead, leaving to let you change before he can embarrass himself with any baseless comment you wouldn’t really get. The effect of the drinks still hadn’t completely faded, and he fears he’s capable of saying just about any of his stupid thoughts out loud right about now. 

You weren’t completely sober either, not by any means. The trashy vodka your ex offered you in an attempt to reconcile was as bitter as the end of your relationship with him, and it was flowing through your veins and giving you that light-headed buzz. You stand up and slip off your boots and Jisung’s jacket, along with your skirt. Your top requires a bit more precision, the lace getting twisted and tangled in your uncoordinated fingers. There’s little huffs and puffs of frustration that leave your lips during your struggle, and you’d almost consider asking for help if it wasn’t completely inappropriate. 

Finally, though, you manage to get it off and slip on the change of clothes Jisung has so graciously provided. They’re warm and they smell good, and they’re much more comfortable than your outfit which is now folded on Jisung’s gaming chair, alongside your purse. 

When you look up in admiration of his impressive keyboard, which looks to be custom made, and your eyes trail up to his monitor, you notice something on the corner of the screen. The mindless doodle you had drawn beside your phone number that day in class had been very carefully cut out and stuck onto his screen with tape. 

“You okay?”

His voice calls from outside, quietly as if not to disturb you even though it’s you who is occupying his room. 

“Yeah, I’m almost done!”

“I thought that she was gonna assign them on Friday?”

Sung had asked you that on call, in regards to the constellation project you mentioned you wanted to start working on. Not Jisung, Sung. Sung, who is not in your astronomy class and would have had no way of knowing when or even what your professor would be assigning. 

“You’re Ji-sun, right?” 

“—Sung.”

The nickname sounded very right coming from his lips, from his voice. You never gave his nickname too much thought, because truly, Sung could just be a display name. And if it is his real name, it could stand for anything: Sungmin, Sungwoo, Daesung, Ilsung, Jaesung… Jisung. 

And then, you recall the time you spoke on the phone—specifically, the time you had to do a double take at your screen to make sure you hadn’t actually called Sung. It was the first time you had spoken to Jisung on the phone, and it’s the only way you had even spoken to Sung… something about it seemed so, so strangely familiar. 

Could it be… 

“Alright, I’m done!” Your announcement comes after the realization that he’s been waiting outside for a few minutes already. 

“Coming in…” He warns, eyes still cast to the ground in case you weren’t decent. They slowly make their way up, and something flashes across his features at the sight of you. You try to ignore it, still preoccupied by your growing suspicions. His computer is on… meaning…

“Let me let Karina know I left… I kinda just walked out on her.” 

Jisung nods and takes a cautious seat on his bed a few feet away from you. 

As you open the discord app on your phone, you scroll to the top to find his contact and type out a simple Hi, clicking send with your heart beating faster than usual. It’s an impulsive act, but you can’t help yourself. If there’s even a chance… 

Instantly, his screen lights up and through his headphones you hear the familiar chime of the notification coming in. 

“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” 

If it’s possible, Jisung’s face grows even paler than it already was naturally, and even more gloom than it appeared earlier in the night when he identified you as Jaehyun’s ex. All of his features are alert and in shock, watching as you spin around to face him. 

“Sung? Right? That’s you?” 

He’s struggling to read your expression, and it’s beyond obvious. The only change in his demeanor is the now tensed up shoulders and the redness that takes over the white on his cheeks. 

“I—” Are you mad? Should he apologize?

“Did you know all this time? That it was me, I mean?” 

He nods slowly, unable to find the appropriate words to say. 

Two things happen just then. First, your hand smacks his arm, hard. “You fucking idiot!” and Second, you topple into his arms, hugging him. Initially, his hands hesitate to wrap around you, hovering above your waist as you squeeze his neck. 

“You’re not mad?” He asks shyly. You shake your head against him, then lift off with your hands on his shoulders to take a real good look at his face. 

“No! I’m so glad, I thought I was going crazy. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

He shrugs again, a gesture he seems to do a lot around you. 

“Since when did you know it was me?” 

“Since I heard you speak on the very first day in class. I recognized your voice.” 

Your eyes soften at this small confession, and you look back towards his desk, “So, this is where you were this whole time while we played? This close? A twenty-minute walk away?” You shoot up from the bed and cross the small distance to the desk, swiping an index finger along the surface, then his mouse, then his keyboard, and all of his other equipment. Your eyes are beaming, looking around and familiarizing yourself with his things. All the things you wondered about him are now laid out in front of you, and it’s exhilarating. 

“I was so excited when I found out,” 

“You should’ve told me,” you repeat, still taking in his pictures and personal items, your profound curiosity surfacing within you. 

“I was worried about making a good first impression, you’re…” 

“I’m…?” you press, turning to him for a moment. 

“You’re really pretty in person.” 

In that moment when you turn away to hide your blush, with the words “you’re really cute in person, too” ready to spill from your tongue in a sweet and shy whisper, a small black pile on the corner of his dresser catches your eye. 

“What’s that—” 

“Oh nothing! It’s just—” 

“Is that my cardigan?” 

Forget distraught, forget embarrassed, forget every possible synonym for the word humiliation. Not a single one would do what he’s feeling in this moment even a sliver of justice. Jisung is convinced his soul has left his body, that he’s passed on or that the ground has swallowed him whole. In fact, he’d prefer it that way. He has never felt more panic in his life as you quickly approach the cum-stained cardigan that he took from you, that he pleasured himself with countless times, that he still hasn’t washed…

“You dropped it in class, and I-I meant to give it back to you, you know, a-after I washed it, but then—” 

As you turn the material over in your hands, taking note of and examining the stains, Jisungs breath completely cuts off. You spin slowly on your heel, facing him. There’s an unreadable expression on your face, and it takes every bit of the little pride he has left to not squeeze his eyes shut. 

“Are these—” His voice is no more than a sputtering squeak, “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. Fuck, you must think—” 

“Jisung.” 

“I didn’t mean to keep it for so long, or-or at all, really, it’s just—”

“Jisung.” He’s pretty sure you can hear him gulp. “Were you using my cardigan to get off?” 

“I-” 

“Were you?” You ask sternly. 

He sucks in a breath, unable to look at you any longer as the faintest of yeses leaves his pouty lips. 

There’s a moment of silence. A terribly long, excruciating moment of silence where Jisung can think of no way to make this up to you. He’s beyond ashamed, palms clasped together and sweating, face red with horror, inside of his cheek clamped tightly between his teeth, the whole nine miles. So much for mulling over how he’d reveal who he was to you, and so much for all the overthinking he did, all the times he planned out exactly what to say to you and how. Now, it’s all coming to an end because of this damned cardigan. He should’ve just washed it and given it back to you after the first time—no, he shouldn’t have used it at all. His mind is filled with thoughts of everything and nothing at the same time, and he’s already beginning to mourn the loss of your friendship when you say the unthinkable: 

“Show me.”

*. * ·

taglist: @heartlvrrss @albedoloser @zp00ks @simpforarmihn @toroufriteh @quokkatss @jising-jisang-jisung @camstqr @tangerinehyuck @ma-riiii @minlvrpage @hancafe

there are some users that couldn't be tagged, as tumblr did not recognize their accounts. sorry :((

[divinesolas]

Undeniable Desire

c.w season two spoilers; characters (addam and nettles), mention of dragonseeds (nothing more), loss of virginity (jacaerys) non virgin reader, smut, fingering (fem), oral (fem), p in v, clothed sex ?, possessive jacaerys, not proofread

summary: You are dragonseed and have become good friends with the prince. You think nothing of it and not expecting your desires to lead to anything but when you speak of what you think of your future his truer colors show.

w.c: 1.8k

a.n: anybody else cant stop thinking about bridgerton LMAO, i need to rewatch soon, anyways i hope you all enjoy :3 promise im getting around to requests i just needed to push out this idea 🥰 LOVE YOU GUYS

You finally manage to shake off addam and his drunken rampage with a laugh telling him off. “come on you cant leave yet.” “I am going to bed you fool leave me be.” You knock him upside the head and he groans giving you the opportunity to walk away and turn back to the rest of them with a wave. Chimes of goodnights and sleep well are what your met with and you walk away, feeling eyes burning into you you turn back once more and see him staring at you with an unknown look on his face, taking a drink out of his chalice ignoring alyn next to him who was talking his ear off, not even sparing him a glance as he continues to stare at you.

You turn around attempting to ignore how your stomach burns and your face heats at the thought of him. Jacaerys Velaryon. You just like the rest of your ‘dragonseed’ friends have grown close to jacaerys during your time together. Yet you can’t help but feel their was something different about the way he looked at you and even other people can’t help but notice it either.

‘He is definitely wants to fuck you.’ ‘Nettles!’ The girl next to you laughs before chugging down her wine. ‘Do not say such things.’ Addam walks over and drops down to the spot next to you, ‘what are you two talking about?’ ‘The prince.’ ‘ah and how he wants to shag miss oblivious right here.’ ‘did you guys plan this?!’ You in your frustration rip the cup out of addams hands and chug it. ‘its not our fault he makes it so painfully obvious and you are so painfully oblivious to it.’ You shake your head and keep your gaze at the campfire in front of you. ‘It is not true.’ you don’t see the way the pair look at each other and instead start picking at the grass near you.

Even if it was true it wouldn’t matter, you certainly had no intention of sleeping with him. He was betrothed and he certainly did not seem like the type of man to lay around with any women he saw fit. He was the crowned prince for gods sake the heir to the queen and you were in the middle of a damn succession war feelings be damned and you were certain your friends were just playing jokes on you and he certainly just saw you as a friend.

You think nothing of it as you are getting ready to go to bed, just having put on your night gown after your bath, when the flap of your tent opens and you turn to it alarmed and let out a sigh of relief when you see him. “I am sorry i did not mean to disturb you.” “It is no issue my prince, Do you need something?”

You turn back to the mirror and fiddle around with your hair, eyeing the prince through the mirror. He just stares at you for a moment and takes a drink from his cup, you gulp and look away from him, pushing down your own desires attempting to stop your imagination from running wild. What if he just walked over to you and pushing you against the mirror, ripping off your dress and having his way with you, maybe he would drop to his knees and wrap his lips around your pearl, only letting go until you were withering and begging him to stop.

You shake your head and “Would it be selfish of me to admit i missed you? i feel as though we did not talk much today?” You smile lightly at his words and curse yourself for thinking such terrible things. Of course he simply just wished to see you, as he had been busy with his duties all day, only getting to see you all at the end of they day only for you to leave before getting to say a single word to him.

“You honor me my prince with your time.” He shakes his head with a laugh taking another sip, “i would give you anything in the world.” You flush and look down, fiddling with your dress too embarrassed to move from your place in front of the mirror. Hes just being dramatic you think, he does not mean what he says, especially since he seems to be drinking. “You are too kind my prince.” “Call me Jace i beg of you.” “Would you truly beg me?” “I would get on my knees at your feet and do whatever you asked.” Your knees shake as you press your thighs together, the heat between you legs almost unbearable, a part of you wants to shoo him away so you can put your hand between your legs and take care of yourself or find some poor soul in the camp to relieve yourself with. You don’t, you cannot simply ask him to leave for such selfish reasons, especially since you know deep deep down that if you sought out somebody else you would only be thinking about him.

He seems to realize you don’t plan on saying anything so he begins to speak. “You know they were all talking about something.” You give him an interested look in the mirror and he takes another sip, “About what they were planning on doing after this fight is over. Do you have any thoughts? About what you plan to do?” You look up in thought, “I haven't given it much thought if im being honest.” He hums but says nothing. “Maybe i go off to the reach, it sounds very lovely.” “You would not stay in the keep?” You laugh at his idea and shake your head, “Why would i stay there? What would you miss me?” He says nothing and you don't look at him, instead continue talking, lost in your own imagination. “I would probably travel around for a bit, then find some lord to marry he fuck some babies into me and then i live the rest of my life-” You gasp as your suddenly pushed against the mirror being completely trapped by him, you hadn’t even registered the cup being thrown to the ground.

“My prince?” He flips you around suddenly and your eye to eye with him. His hands grip your waist and pull you directly against him. “You will not leave.” “I don't understand-” “You are not going anywhere you will stay by my side.” He has an animalistic look about him, like he's about to eat you whole, completely bewildered by the idea of you leaving. “I have no place in the keep.” “Your place is by my side.” His words have such a finality and certainty about them as if he's giving you no reason to argue with him. “You are to be married, This is highly inappropriate.” Your words are pushed out like puffs of air as his hands have moved up to your chest, rubbing your nipples through the fabric, you can feel him hardening between your legs. “I shall take you as a my second wife, no one will argue i will be king.” “You are being absurd.” “Do you desire me?”

You pull him into a heated kiss. He quickly reciprocates, his hands moving from your waist to under your night gown and he lets out a delighted hum at the liquid on your thighs. ‘Are you bare?” “I was planning on sleeping.” He moans lightly before he pauses before actually touching, “Do you want this?” you nod feverishly, “Please touch me please.” wasting no more time he runs his fingers along your folds, “This is for me right? and no some stupid pompous lord in the reach.” “yes yes.” You answer him but he doesn't seem to be listening, mumbling to himself in anger. “I hate the lords in the reach, always with each other heads in their asses no way you will marry any of them, let them put a baby in you.” He sticks two fingers inside you, “I wouldn’t i wouldn’t only you.” The pit in your lower stomach grows as you watch in shock him drop to his knees in front of you, his body being lost to your gown as he begins to lick and suck at your clit, his fingers moving quicker to pump in and out of you.

You cannot speak so much of his name. Using one of your hands to cover your mouth to not draw attention to yourself, the other plays with one of your tits, sliding it under your dress. He does not let up, even has you orgasm once then twice, only releasing you after the third time and you fall back, leaning against the mirror with wobbly legs as he keeps a tight grip on you holding you up as he stands. You can see the shine of your own essence on his lips and jaw, you swear you can even see some of it dripping down his neck into his collarbone.

He simply stands there and watches you fiddle around with his pants to free him for a few moments as he licks his lips. “You do not know how often i have thought about this.” You look up at him and give him a smile, “You think of me?” “Every minute of everyday, my waking thoughts and my dreams are only filled with you.”

Before you know it he is pushing into you with a hiss and you chuckle with a delighted moan at his closed eyes and clenched teeth. “First time?” “I may not have been your first but i will be your last.” Giving himself a second to get used to your pulsing warm walls that seem to be sucking him in every second he begins to move. Hes a little sloppy, clearly unsure and if anything a little unconfident about what he’s supposed to do. You place your head on his neck, making sure your lips are right next to his ear and you begin to move your hips to meet his, moaning in his ear only for him to hear.

He gains confidence after a few moments and soon enough you have no longer and need to meet him as he begins to pound into you diligently. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his tunic as the pit in your stomach grows once more. “please tell me your close.” You’re shocked he’s even managed to last this long but nod and he groans in delight. “Please peak please together.”

The mirror behind you is completely covered with a foggy mist just as your eyes are when you finally release. You pray as you catch your breath that you two were quiet enough because you would rather be dead than me made fun of by your friends for finally fucking the prince. But as you feel his seed running out your lips and down your thigh you decide maybe it was worth it.

--

perm jacaerys taglist <3

@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese

[secriden]

Wild take, but when Style says, "It's okay to love," I really don't think it's actually about love at all.

Let's consider the context leading up to this point: Fadel drives Style to an abandoned factory in the woods and leaves him alone to go and brood for a while. At least part of Fadel's goal is to scare Style, to give him a hint that Fadel is more dangerous than he seems.

But Style doesn't back down, doesn't go running, evidences no sense of self-preservation or worry; and at least on some level it's a clear sign that he trusts Fadel. Despite Fadel literally punching him in the stomach; despite Fadel mocking Style's honest and wanton desire; despite Fadel chasing him away, he still trusts Fadel to keep him safe.

Imagine how frustrated Fadel must be feeling. Style was only gone for one morning, but it was enough for Fadel to become painfully aware that he did not actually want Style gone from his life. He knows now that he won't have the strength to keep refusing Style's relentless pursuit, so he needs Style to be the one to walk away from him instead.

And I think this was a final, last-ditch attempt to make Style run away.

Notice that Fadel starts out rather threatening: "I don't like you messing up my life. My life has been planned out. You're disrupting it." At this point, Fadel could have still turned this violent; attack Style and leave him injured in an abandoned warehouse, and I'm not sure that wasn't still on Fadel's mind at this point. He's incredibly aggressive at first: shoving Style back against the bar, caging Style in between his rigid arms, rattling the metal frame behind Style to show his anger.

But oh, in the heat of the moment, the truth slips out. Fadel is admitting that Style has the power to bring change into his highly regimented and structured life. He's admitting that his desire to keep Style in his life has eclipsed his need for control and structure, in spite of himself.

The truth breaks Fadel open in ways that none of Style's machinations and schemes could. He finally recognises that it is his own feelings that are the true cause of his anger and frustration.

This is the point when Fadel finally gives up on the idea of hurting Style to chase him away. His voice softens (Joong's delivery of "I miss you" makes me weep), his shoulders finally relax, he stops caging Style against the bar and instead it's almost a tentative suggestion of a desire to hold Style.

And I think Style understood this on some instinctive level. Because if you watch Style very carefully, there's a moment of genuine fear when Fadel first shoves him against the bar and then he takes a grim breath like he's fighting off a sense of despair at the at the start of Fadel's rant. Like he could tell this one was going to be a 'make or break' kind of situation.

But when Fadel begins to unravel, when he admits that he was looking for Style when he was gone, there's this almost hopeful, anticipatory look that slowly blooms on Style's face. He's so hungry to see where this goes, and he's gets this intense almost wild look on his face when Fadel pauses to search for his words.

It's incredibly important that Style waited at this point. Style, who talks endlessly and without thought. Style, who demands that his story and his thoughts are aired first. Style, who has been telling Fadel this lie time and time again before Fadel’s feelings made it true... Stops. Waits. Stays silent. Because Fadel had to get there himself or not at all.

Dunk does something incredibly subtle here, but it blew me away: Style does not blink once throughout the entirety of Fadel's rant UNTIL he says "I don't like that I miss you". And that's when Style finally blinks as if it’s finally safe to take his eyes off Fadel. As if there's a wave of relief washing over him as the tension (and sense of danger) finally breaks.

He also does this incredible thing where he softens the look he's giving Fadel right before he drops his eyes down to Fadel's lips. (Joong has always been excellent at this, but Dunk didn’t really get that many opportunities to do this in previous roles). Style is treating this moment so carefully, and there's a purposefulness to this kiss that was entirely absent from the ones Style initiated in the locker room in episode 2.

I also think it's really important that Style was the one to kiss Fadel here. Not just because it juxtaposes the kiss in the store room, but also because Style has shown a strong preference for Fadel taking the initiative. He has been consistently creating opportunities for Fadel to lay hands on him, right from episode 1 when he put the Heart Burger pin on his chest and put his arms behind his head in welcome (and surrender).

But for this to be a functional relationship, Style has to take ownership of his own desire for Fadel. He cannot remain physically passive any longer, because this is the start of something bigger than just the thrill of being wanted. Style is looking beyond what he wants, potentially for the first time, to what his partner needs.

And I wonder, is this maybe the first time Fadel has allowed himself to be kissed since his ex left? There's something so fragile in the wide-shot. The way Fadel only has one hand barely touching Style's hip, while he's still got his other hand clenched tightly around the metal bar like he's desperately holding onto a lifeline. I have so many emotions about this.

Which is why I think this line wasn't really about love at all. This was Style responding to the vulnerability he sees in Fadel and offering reassurance in return. Because Fadel is strong and doesn't need protection, but oh yes he does, for it is his heart that is in danger of shattering.

There's an incredible line in episode 13 of Love In The Air, when Sky (in the aftermath of an extremely traumatic event and after finally revealing the full truth that he was sure would drive Prapai away) turns to Prapai and asks, "P'Pai, can I really love you?" Sky is asking if his fragile heart is really going to be safe in Prapai's hands.

And I think this is exactly what Style is getting at here: He's telling Fadel It's okay to love me. That Style is safe to love. That Fadel can take the risk to let Style into his heart because Style isn't going to take it lightly.

And it's this reassurance that finally allows Fadel to let go: both figuratively (as he starts to take control of the kiss and the encounter) and literally (as he transfers his hold from the metal bar to Style's body). Even the contrast in the wider shots between the kiss before Style says "It's okay to love" and after is startling.

This wasn't really a love confession, not in the conventional understanding of it. But for Fadel, who's mother "loves" Bison and himself for their utility and usefulness, perhaps the assurance of safety is more important.

And for Style, who seems so naive and inexperienced and ignorant of the way the world works in ways that suggest he's never truly had to grow up, this is far more significant. Because he's taking responsibility of someone else's heart for the first time in a way that I don't think he's ever allowed himself before. I said before that Style would be forced to grow up and I do believe this is what we are seeing here.

So no, I don't think this was the moment of "falling in love" but I do think this was the start of something real and meaningful and purposeful that could have eventually blossomed into love for the both of them.

[dovesdreaming]

Ink and needles

You and Eddie become close when you keep coming back to him for your piercings. One day you ask for a piercing that leaves Eddie flustered though and romance follows.

I want to write a steamier version one day!

Warnings: anatomy (not gendered), piercing tools

-

The bell above the door chimed as you stepped into the dimly lit tattoo parlor. The walls were adorned with flash sheets and framed photos of satisfied clients showing off their ink. The air was thick with the smell of antiseptic and the faint hum of a tattoo machine coming from the back room. You glanced around, taking it all in, until your eyes landed on the front desk where a man was leaning casually against the counter. He was flipping through a magazine, his wild curls spilling over his shoulders, and his black band tee showcasing worn graphics. Rings adorned his fingers, and his arms were covered in intricate tattoos that snaked up beneath his sleeves. Eddie Munson. You’d heard of him before, people in town talked about the guy who made the darkest, most intricate designs come to life. He had a reputation for being a bit of a wildcard, but everyone who came to him always left with a story.

You cleared your throat, nerves buzzing in your stomach as you approached the desk. He glanced up, his deep brown eyes locking onto yours. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a crooked grin. “Hey there” he greeted, his voice low and rough. "What can I do for you today?". You hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Hi, um, I was thinking about getting a piercing”. His grin widened, and he set the magazine down. "You've come to the right place. What are you thinking? Something simple, or are you looking to get a little wild?". You laughed softly, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease just a bit. There was something disarming about him, the way he looked at you like you were the most interesting person in the room. "Maybe somewhere in between”. He nodded, motioning for you to follow him to a side room with a high leather chair and a table lined with neatly arranged piercing tools. You sat down, your nerves creeping back as you explained what you wanted.

Eddie listened intently, his gaze focused on you the entire time. He asked a few questions, making sure you were comfortable and confident in your choice. His easygoing demeanor helped you relax, and before long, the piercing was done with minimal pain and a surprising amount of laughter. “There you go” he said, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "You handled that like a champ”. You smiled, genuinely pleased with the result. "Thanks. I was more nervous than I thought I’d be, but you made it easy”. Eddie chuckled, running a hand through his curls. "Well, you’re a natural. Maybe you should come back, keep me company in this lonely old shop." You laughed, not entirely sure if he was joking or serious, but something about the way he said it made you want to take him up on the offer.

And you did. You found yourself coming back to the shop more often than you’d ever planned, sometimes for a new piercing, sometimes just to say hi. Each visit brought you and Eddie closer, your conversations becoming longer, more personal. You’d talk about everything from music to movies to the strange quirks of living in Hawkins. There was an easy chemistry between you two, something that neither of you acknowledged outright, but it was there, simmering just below the surface. Eddie’s teasing became more playful, his smiles lingering a bit longer, and you found yourself looking forward to every visit just to see him.

Then came the day you walked in with a request that neither of you were quite prepared for. Eddie was at the counter, sorting through paperwork when you strolled in. He looked up, his grin spreading across his face as soon as he saw you. "Well, if it isn’t my favorite client. What’s the plan for today? New piercing? Or are we finally gonna get you started on that tattoo?". You took a deep breath, feeling the familiar flutter in your stomach that always came when you were around him. "Actually, I was thinking about getting a piercing. But… it’s a little different this time." Eddie’s curiosity was piqued. He motioned for you to follow him into the piercing room, where he prepped his tools as usual. "Alright, hit me with it. What are we doing today?". You hesitated, your cheeks heating up as you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. "I was thinking… nipple piercings."

Eddie froze for a split second, his hands pausing over the equipment. He cleared his throat, glancing up at you with a look that was both surprised and something else you couldn’t quite place. “You sure about that?" he asked, his voice a little rougher than usual. You nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. "Yeah, I’ve thought about it for a while now." He nodded slowly, his usual confidence faltering as he tried to process the request. "Alright. We can do that. Uh, just… make yourself comfortable, and we’ll get started." You could feel the shift in the air as you took off your top, leaving you in just your bra. Eddie was suddenly more careful with his movements, more focused on the task at hand, but you didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered over your skin, lingering a bit longer than necessary.

He guided you through the process, explaining everything as he went, his voice steady but lacking its usual playfulness. When it came time for the piercing, his fingers brushed against your skin, and you noticed how his touch was gentler than ever before. It wasn’t long before the piercings were done, but the atmosphere in the room had changed entirely. Eddie seemed a little more flustered, his usual bravado replaced by something softer, almost hesitant.

“All done” he said, his voice quieter as he stepped back, avoiding your gaze.

You smiled, feeling a strange mix of emotions swirling inside you. "Thanks, Eddie. They look… really good”. He finally looked at you, his eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. "Yeah, well, you make it easy”. You both stood there for a moment, the weight of what had just happened hanging in the air. There was something unspoken between you, something that had been building for weeks, maybe even months. Before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the distance between you and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. His skin was warm under your lips, and you felt him tense for just a second before relaxing.

“Eddie” you began, your voice trembling slightly as you pulled back, meeting his gaze. "I… I really like spending time with you”.

He blinked, clearly taken aback by your sudden admission, but then a slow smile spread across his face, more genuine and tender than you’d ever seen. "Yeah? Well, I really like having you around”. His hand reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just a moment too long. "You know… you don’t have to come in just for piercings, right? You can, uh, come in anytime. For anything”. Your heart raced at his words, the meaning behind them clear as day. "I’d like that" you whispered, your eyes locking onto his. Eddie’s smile widened, his usual confidence returning as he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. "Good. Because I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now. Just didn’t want to scare you off."

You laughed softly, the tension in the room melting away. "I think I can handle it”. “Yeah?" He grinned, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek. "Well, in that case, how about we start with dinner tonight?". You nodded, your shyness momentarily forgotten in the warmth of the moment. "I’d love that”. Eddie’s smile was contagious as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. "Me too. Now, let’s get you cleaned up, and we’ll make those dinner plans official."

And as you sat there, the cool antiseptic stinging slightly against your fresh piercings, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something much bigger than either of you had expected.

[vividzzxz]

Hii !! Can I request a reaction fic (sort of) of ateez teasing you about the night before.

(For example: about how loud y/n was, about the scratches on their back, etc)

Sureee.... Kinda wild Ic 🤭

ATEEZ TEASING THEIR S/O ABOUT THE PREVIOUS NIGHT.

HONGJOONG:

Wouldn't tease you much about it coz he loved it as much as you did.

But would tease you occasionally by dirty talking if you get grumpy..

"Where did the submissive little darling that was screaming my name go?"

He would occasionally kiss the hickey he left on your collarbone and smirk at you. "It's fading real soon, I'm gonna have to mark it again I see."

Soon enough both of you are gonna go crawling back to each other for more.

SEONGHWA:

When I tell you this man is a freak, I mean it. He would tease you all day or week long if it means making you mad.

He's the kind to get horny seeing you get mad.

He'd trace his fingers over the scratches you made on his arms and smirk at you.

He'd trace your lower stomach and smirk "Never thought I'd be able to see the bulge".

He'd lick his lips and say "Wanna go for round 7?"

YUNHO:

He'd often come and peck the hickeys on your neck he left last night "I see my love bites are blooming today..."

He would run his fingers over your tummy and murmur "I'm waiting for the day I'll be able to fill you up with my kids."

He would randomly come and plunge his fingers in your mouth and order you to suck it.

"Fuck you look so pretty like this.. I wanna see you suck me off like that again..."

He'd leave feather light touches on your inner thigh leaving you weak in his arms.

YEOSANG:

He's not into teasing with words but he's into teasing with actions.

He'd run his hands through your shirt surprising you while you're busy doing something.

He'd take off his shirt on purpose and sit with his back facing you so he can show you the marks you left on his back last night.

He'd spread your legs when you're sitting somewhere and stare at the hickeys he left on your inner thighs.

He'd beg you to sit on his face once again so he could taste you all over again.

SAN:

Would become freaky when he's needy. He always needs to keep his hands on your body.

He's trace the curves of your body and say "Wanna hold you and fuck you just to watch you fall apart in my arms."

He'd bury his face between your boobs and leave more hickeys than there already is.

He'd pinch your nipples to get a reaction out of you "Your reactions are just so hot, I'll never get over it."

He'd eye fuck you when you're even simply sitting.

MINGI:

Would groan with his deep voice on purpose while sitting next to you to make you flustered.

Would make you sit on his lap and would thrust up and then smirk at you.

Would trace the hickeys he left last night with feather light touches "I wanna mark you until there's no space left on your body."

Would grope you every chance he gets.

Would 'accidently' touch your clothed clit and say 'oops it was an accident'.

Would lift your shirt and suck on your nipples "I can't get enough of you".

WOOYOUNG:

When you wake up the first thing he'd do is look at you and say "Enjoyed last night, princess?".

Wouldn't let you get out of bed and instead would trace your curves and tease you "I have the energy to go fo 2 more rounds."

Would ask you to shower together with him so he could get a quickie in the shower.

Would make you sit on his lap while watching a movie and chilling and would occasionally grind up on you to get a reaction out of you.

JONGHO:

He isn't the kind to tease you at all but he would rarely.

Instead of teasing, I feel like he'd instead hold you close and cuddle next to you.

But rarely at some instances, he's put his hands under your shirt and leave feather light touches making you shiver in his arms.

He'd place sloppy kisses on your neck and ask you if you'd be fine for going another round.

He's show you the scratches you made last night and smirk at you before dirty talking to you.

✧( ु•⌄• )◞*◟( •⌄• ू )✧

-Note

I take requests for writing...

It can be from Skz, Svt, TxT, En-, Ateez.

It can be based on smut, fluff, etc.

[xxsabitoxx]

My Personal Hashira 🍆 Size Ranking

Warning: if it ain’t obvious, this contains smut lmao — therefore Muichiro is 100% not included in this. We’re talking about 🍆, length, girth, all the fun stuff. So if PPs make you uncomfortable keep on scrolling babes </3

A/N: these low key stress me out cause I feel like people can get pretty defensive over these types of Headcanons. Especially if my own thought differs from yours. Regardless, these are just my personal takes/HCs. My word is not law so do not be upset if my HC does not match yours / don’t feel the need to change how you HC these things to fit my POV. This is why I refrain from describing size in my fics, I want y’all to imagine it in a way that you like lololol

Lastly, idgaf if you see some of this as unrealistic, these are fake, fictional drawings of men, if I wanna give Gyomei a 44ft long 🍆, I can and will (I didn’t but you get the point.) Anyways enjoy my personal thoughts on this matter

1. Himejima Gyomei

Is anyone fucking shocked that this 7’2 (220cm) man is packing the biggest schlong among the male Hashira?

I mean let’s be logical real quick, his dick is as big as the rest of him. This man’s dick is dragging on the floor.

Soft: 11.2

Hard: 12.3

Call it unrealistic idgaf this man is LONG

Girthy too, he’s fucking beefy all over

This man’s dick will feel like he’s shoving his wrist up in there ong bro

It curves downward slightly when hard, I mean shit that thing is heavy, it stands no chance against gravity

2. Uzui Tengen

Again, the man is 6’6 (198cm).

Height comes into play when it comes to our two tank Hashira

Therefore none of you should be surprised that they are the top two

Soft: 9

Hard: 10.3

Your guts are getting rearranged, he knows the length he has but often underestimates how far he can go…

He’s long but doesn’t have a crazy girth to him, which thank fuck it doesn’t take as much prep to take him

He’s pretty straight when hard and manages to flex it and keep it up (he totally does dick tricks & you can’t convince me otherwise)

3. Tomioka Giyu

I’m standing by my “big dick Giyu” head canon. I just know this man is packing a weapon down there

What’s crazy is he wasn’t even aware of how good he had it until he overheard other corps members chatting

Soft: 6.3

Hard: 7.4

He’s got a decent girth and as weird as it may sound, it’s pretty, like really pretty to look at

When hard, it curves upwards and stands at attention which makes him a bit embarrassed

He knows how to use it, because of that he’s pretty confident in that aspect which is wild for him

He will also rearrange your guts unintentionally (or intentionally hehe)

4. Shinazugawa Sanemi

I don’t wanna hear one PEEP from any of you that Sanemi should be above Giyu.

My man is forth on the list but that ain’t mean shit, he’s still got a lot going on down there

Soft: 6

Hard: 7

He’s girthy, will tear you up girth, needs thirty minutes of prep minimum because of how wildly he fucks girth

He sticks straight out, no curve in sight and honestly looks like he defies gravity.

He’s like Tengen, can do dick tricks. But unlike Tengen he doesn’t make that known / show you lmao.

He’ll break your back, he may even hurt you (fully unintentional) if he gets too into it. That thing is fr a weapon

5. Rengoku Kyojuro

He’s fifth on the list but trust me he’s not lacking

He’s second smallest, but he’s not small, if you get what I mean. It’s kinda like how we rank the Hashira weakest to strongest but regardless they are still the strongest in the corps… that make sense?

Soft: 5.8

Hard: 6.8

He curves upwards, very prominent veins running along his shaft (heh, shaft)

Girth wise, he’s about normal. Not too intimidating but def offers you a good stretch, forgoing prep is real bold tbh

He’s a quick learner so he quickly masters how to fuck you

He will strive to go as far as your body will let him, so expect to be bruised / sore

6. Iguro Obanai

My king. He may be “smallest” among the Hashira men, but that doesn’t mean shit.

He’s not self conscious of his dick, he knows how to use it. He’s also pretty content with it’s size

Soft: 5.6

Hard: 6.5

See? You can’t come for me cause he ain’t even SMALL

Obanai’s dick is pretty, too. It curves upwards slightly, since he’s pretty pale, his veins are prominent

He’s got an average girth, he doesn’t need to prep you forever to get you ready. Which works in his favor cause he likes to “punish” you with no prep & going in raw

He can and will abuse your cunt, he’s not satisfied until you genuinely can’t walk without limping for a few days

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Two: It All Turned Around

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 2.6k

Series Warnings: Mature to start, but will ultimately be Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. There will be angst, drama, fluff, humor, romance, smut... basically, the works. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname from her dad, which is explained in this chapter.

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Thank you for reading this little tale! I did not expect all the love the first chapter received - my heart is fit to burst!

Chapter One | Main Masterlist

Chapter Two: It All Turned Around

You walked the few blocks over to Joel’s house on Monday morning, ready to start your new gig as Sarah’s… babysitter wasn’t the right word. Nanny? Au pair? Nah, that didn’t work either. Whatever, the wording did not matter. You were helping Joel out by taking care of his daughter when he couldn’t, that’s what mattered. Jeez, you thought as you walked along the sleepy neighborhood sidewalk, you were one step away from talking to herself aloud like a mad woman.

When you finally reached Joel’s house, already damp with sweat from the lingering heat, climbing the porch steps to the front door with your eyes glued to Joel’s truck, you realized the flaw in this arrangement.

You didn’t have a car.

How the hell were you supposed to take the kid to and from school without a car?

How did you not realize this sooner?

Knuckles rapping on the door, your teeth worried your plump bottom lip as you considered your options. Admit to the gorgeous single father relying on you to help with his precious daughter that you were a complete flake. Sneakily order an Uber with the hope that Sarah will keep her mouth shut about it. Or just buy a car off one of those online dealers and hope it gets delivered in time.

Those options weren’t great, but what the hell else did you have to work with?

The door finally opened to reveal a frazzled Joel, tee shirt inside out and dark curls mussed. A giggle bubbled out before you could stop it.

“Mornin’ darlin’,” Joel greeted, his lips tilting upwards at the sight of you while his free hand attempted to tame his wild curls. “Come on in. We’re runnin’ a little behind schedule this morning.”

“Good morning, Joel.” Your eyes drank him in. Even in his disheveled state he was gorgeous. If anything, the harried morning look made him even more endearing.

He stepped aside to let you in, glancing to the driveway then the curb. “Where’s your car? Did you walk here?” he questioned, confused.

And just like that, the pleasant feeling of seeing him again washed away in embarrassment. You almost forgot about the car situation again. “Yeah, ‘bout that. I don’t actually have a car.” You could practically see the wheels turning behind his dark chocolate eyes as he stared at you.

Finally, Joel’s head bobbed in a nod as he led you into the kitchen. “Okay, we can make it work. Tommy is on his way over and I’ll just hitch a ride to work with him. You can use my truck for running Sarah around.”

“You sure?” you questioned doubtfully. “I’m sorry, it didn’t occur to me that I don’t have wheels until I was standing on your porch.”

Waving off your apologetic concern, Joel called for Sarah to come down for breakfast. Turning back to you, he smiled, the scruff of his beard barely concealing a delightful little dimple. “Don’t worry about it. Just use my truck when you’re on duty until we figure something else out. It’s not like I need it when I’m stuck on a job site all day.”

“Well, thanks for being understanding, and so kind,” you replied, feeling a little overwhelmed by how wonderful Joel was being.

Sarah appeared at your side as Joel dug in his pocket for his keys, throwing her arms around your waist. “You’re here!”

“I am!” You hugged the little girl to your side with a laugh, surprised to see Joel’s warm gaze on you when you looked up. There was something in his expression that you couldn’t decipher.

“Here are my keys – this one is for the truck, obviously, and this one is for the front door. Don’t mind the other ones,” he said after clearing his throat, a slight flush spreading across his cheeks. “I’ll get a spare house key made this week so you can come and go as you please. You have my cell number, so call me if you run into any problems with the truck or anything else.”

Once Sarah was seated at the table with a bowl of cereal, Joel filled you in on a few other details pertaining to Sarah’s weekday routine and where anything you might need was located in the house.

“Drop off at 8:30, pick up at 3, homework before play, and don’t let her snack too much before dinner,” you summarized his instructions. “I got it. I can make dinner, too, if you’d like.”

Dark eyes flashed with a hint of something indecipherable again as Joel smiled. “You don’t have to do that unless I’m gonna be real late. I’ll call or text to let you know when I expect to get home each day.”

“Sounds good.” Your finger traced random patterns on the countertop as you watched the Millers go about their morning routine and you wondered if you should say something about his tee shirt. You didn’t want to embarrass the guy, but it would be rude not to let him know, right? What was the protocol here? If it was you, you’d want to know before leaving the house, right?

Before you could decide what to do, Tommy came bursting through the front door, boisterous voice calling out for his brother. “Come on, man. We gotta get rollin’!”

Joel rolled his eyes to you as Tommy came to a halt in the kitchen, the younger brother’s smile widening when his eyes raked over you. “Well, hello again, gorgeous.”

“Hey Tommy,” you greeted in return, glancing between the two brothers. Where Joel was broad and brooding, Tommy was lithe and energetic, and flirty to a fault. Both were handsome, but Tommy had ‘player’ written all over him. He was the exact type of guy that you avoided getting entangled with – the overconfident, love ‘em and leave ‘em type.

Growing tired of his brother gawking at you, Joel grumbled. “Alright, stop flirting, Tommy. It’s time to go.” Dropping his empty coffee cup in the sink, he turned back to you. “Call me if you need anything, darlin’.”

You nodded with a smile, watching the brothers kiss Sarah goodbye.

“Your shirt’s on inside out, asshole,” Tommy blurted out suddenly causing Joel’s cheeks to pinken. “God dammit,” he muttered, tugging the shirt over his head to set it right.

Unable to tear your gaze away from the glimpse of broad chest and slightly soft tummy, you jolted when something bumped your shoulder. Snapping your head to the side, you frowned at Tommy’s beaming grin. “Ah, I see how it is,” he said cryptically, the grin never leaving his lips.

“What?” you asked, baffled, mind still flooded with the image of a briefly shirtless Joel. The brothers were gone before you could shake your head clear.

Joel’s truck was ornery, you learned quickly. Stomp too hard on the gas pedal and it stalled. Don’t step hard enough on the pedal and it made funny noises while going nowhere fast. Brake too hard and it squealed. Don’t brake hard enough and, well, then you’d crash, obviously. It was a damn Goldilocks truck, but you adapted quickly, making sure you could get Sarah to and from school safely.

God, could you imagine if your first call ever to Joel was to tell him you crashed his truck and put his daughter in danger – or worse yet, she got hurt? That would be beyond awful!

By the afternoon, you and the truck had come to a grudging agreement. You would treat it nicely and it would do what you wanted it to. That was another sign you were losing your mind, right? Coming to agreements with inanimate objects? It was getting sad. You needed a life, some human socialization, for fucks sake.

“Hey nugget!” you called to Sarah, spotting her bouncing down the steps of the front entrance to the K-8 school. It was the very one you applied to earlier in the day, hoping to take over for a science teacher retiring at the end of the year.

“Hey! That’s what my dad calls me!” the little girl declared as she came to a halt in front of you.

“I know! It’s such a cool nickname, much better than the one my dad gave me,” you laughed and opened the passenger door, watching her scramble into the seat like a pro. Satisfied with the security of Sarah’s seatbelt, you jogged around to the driver’s side and hopped up into the truck.

“What’s your nickname?” Sarah asked as you started the truck with an encouraging pat on the dash.

“Spud,” you groaned, voice barely louder than the rumble of the truck’s engine.

Sarah’s brow furrowed and her cute little nose scrunched up. “Spud? Why does your dad call you that?”

“Ugh, the way he tells it, I was a really chunky baby. ‘Round like a potato’ he said. He didn’t like the thought of calling me ‘potato’ so, the nickname spud was born. I’ve hated it every day, but my dad loves it, so I tolerate it for his sake.”

Sarah listened to your explanation with rapt attention. “Yeah, I can see why you like mine better. I’ll make sure to never call you spud. Maybe we can come up with something better?”

“Thanks, kid! I’d like that.”

The rest of the ride back to Joel’s house was quiet as you focused on driving and Sarah bobbed her head to some tune she hummed. Once you pulled to a careful stop in the driveway, the little girl turned into a chatterbox, recounting every moment of her day as you led the way inside and prepared a small snack.

“Fourth grade is quite the adventure, I see,” you said when she finally stopped to nibble at an apple slice. “I don’t remember it being quite that much fun.”

There wasn’t any homework to assist with, but Sarah insisted on showing you all the A grades she got on her work from last week. She preened under your undivided attention, and you encouraged her to keep working hard.

The two of you were in the midst of playing some Lego video game when your phone buzzed with a text from Joel letting you know he was on his way home. The job site wasn’t far, and he walked through the door before 5 pm to find you and Sarah giggling as you bashed away at things in the video game. You were both laying on the floor, knees bent, and heads perched on throw pillows from the couch as you stared up at the TV. Neither of you even noticed him come in and he smiled at the precious moments he had to take in how genuinely happy Sarah was in your company.

Sarah caught sight of him first, pausing the game and rushing over to hug him. He eyed you as he hugged his daughter, his exhausted gaze silently thanking you for taking care of his entire world.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” he asked, kicking off his boots before stepping farther into the house. “I was gonna order pizza.”

Tempted to say yes just to spend more time with him, you declined knowing they had limited father-daughter time. “Thank you, though. I should get back to my house to finish the paperwork for transferring my teaching certification. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Joel escorted you to the door, watching as you descended the porch steps and strolled down the sidewalk until you were out of sight.

The next few weeks followed the same pattern with you staying late a few nights a week or covering a Saturday when Joel was stuck on a job site. You started making dinner most evenings. Whether he made it home early or late, he always seemed exhausted, and you wanted to ease his burden as much as possible. You might have also wondered how many home-cooked meals the pair actually ate when Joel was left in charge of dinner.

You bought a car off another one of your dad’s buddies – a no nonsense sedan just to get you around town with Sarah safely. Some days, while Sarah was at school, you would even do Joel’s food shopping, knowing that he liked to shop at the bulk stores to save money.

Soon, you found yourself staying longer after Joel got home, eager to spend time with him and watch him be a dad. He was such a good one, much like your own, always giving Sarah his full attention and speaking to her with respect and making sure she felt heard. It left you in awe of the man he was and your burgeoning crush quickly, and quite by accident, developed into an affectionate longing for something you couldn’t have.

“How’s it going with Spud?” your dad asked, taking a swig from the bottle of beer in his hand. Seated at a table on the Miller’s back patio with Joel and Tommy, the men enjoyed a few after-work beers as you and Sarah sat together in the grass nearby.

“Why do you call her that, JB? I always wondered.” Joel questioned in return, curiosity finally getting to him.

You dad laughed, the memories of you as a baby always brought a smile to his face. “She was the chunkiest little potato as a baby, all round with the cutest chipmunk cheeks. The nickname spud just popped into my head and stuck from day one.”

Joel’s chestnut eyes flicked over to watch you during your dad’s explanation, a bubble of guilty warmth building in his gut. He found you immediately attractive when you first met, but now, nearly a month into getting to know and spend time with you, a strong affectionate attraction began to develop. It was wholly against his will, too. You were JB’s daughter – his best friend aside from his brother – and therefore off limits.

Surely him lusting after you broke some guy code, right?

Maybe he just needed to get laid. That would set him straight.

As if reading his mind, JB changed the subject. “Now that you have some help with Sarah, maybe it’s time to get back into the dating world. You need the love of a good woman, son.”

“Yeah, how long’s it been since you had a girlfriend, brother?” Tommy chimed in with a smirk. “A decade?”

The younger brother merely chuckled in response to Joel’s scowl. “I’ve dated, just none of them were good enough to bring home,” he replied, a rough edge to his deep voice. “Sarah’s always come first.”

“As she should.” JB nodded. “I know it ain’t easy being a single dad, but you have to make some room and time for yourself otherwise you’ll go crazy.”

Your dad went on to share some of his experiences with dating as a single dad and how you practically begged him to find a girlfriend when you were a teenager, just so he’d give you some space. After a short while, JB and the Miller men were laughing so hard their eyes were watering. At one point, Joel caught you watching them with a tender smile on your lips and his heart skipped a beat.

“Okay, I guess it’s time to put myself out there,” Joel admitted, forcing his gaze away from you.

“Yeah? I know someone who’d love to go on a date with you!” Tommy declared excitedly, turning to JB. “You know Annica over at the lumber yard? She’s been gagging over this one for ages. I’ll text her to set something up for Saturday night.”

“Sounds like it’s settled then. You’re going on a date, son!”

Joel’s brow furrowed, glancing between your dad and Tommy wondering if he just made a huge mistake.

tbc

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx @pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Control Contained

Loki & teen!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: the Avengers take you in when you develop powers, but no one seems to be able to help you control them—until a certain god of mischief steps in

Warnings: panic attack. Canon? Who’s that? We’re setting this in the Avengers compound like it’s 2012, deal with it.

“Hey, I need you to focus.”

You swear Steve—yes, the Captain America—had said that to you at least a dozen times, but you still couldn’t quite get it.

“It’s not working,” you insisted.

“That’s because you’re not focusing.”

“I’m trying!”

Steve’s eyes softened—you hated it when he did that, it meant that he’d given up on being Captain and was ready to be Steve; it meant he thought you were done for the day.

“Look,” he sighed. “I think maybe you’ve had enough.”

“My powers always come out when I can feel them—“

“But that’s dangerous,” Steve argued. “Strength has to be controlled.”

“Yours,” you corrected. “But mine is different—mine is like Loki’s.”

“Not this again,” Steve sighed. “We talked about this. Loki isn’t trusted enough to train new recruits, especially not you.”

“What do you mean especially not me?” You asked.

“Well, there have been a few incidents,” Steve said.

“That was right when I found out about my powers,” you said. “I’m better now. Besides, no one got hurt.”

“Not yet,” Steve said. The grimace on his face showed that he regretted the words the moment they left him. “That’s not what I meant. It’s not your fault, I know you’re trying—“

“But I’m so dangerous that you don’t think I should be around bad influences, is that it?” You took a deep breath, trying to curb your growing frustration. You could feel your powers pulsating beneath your skin.

“That’s not—“

“Why am I even here? So you can keep an eye on me?”

“Kid, stop, I didn’t mean—“

“Forget it.” You shook your head. “Just forget all of it.” You turned to go, but Steve gently grabbed your arm.

“Wait—“

“I said forget it!” You jumped in surprise when a burst of orange shot from your hands, blasting Steve back against the far wall.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you stared with wild eyes at your friend, your mentor, an avenger, lying on the ground because of your powers. Powers you didn’t know how to use, powers that could hurt people. Steve groaned and lifted himself to his feet.

“You need to calm down,” he barked. “You can’t just—hey, easy, just breathe.” Steve’s tone softened when he saw the way you were trembling and struggling for breath. “I’m totally fine.”

“I’m sor—I’m—I…” you backed away from the man, staring down at your hands. Why had you done that? What if it happened again? You saw Steve approaching you from your peripheral, but you weren’t about to let him.

What if you hurt him?

You wouldn’t give yourself the chance. You turned on your heel and ran out the door before Steve even got close to you.

…

Loki was a bit wary of being around the new teenager in the tower—mostly because the other Avengers side-eyed him every time he so much as spoke to you, as if they thought he were corrupting you.

He felt for you; he couldn’t imagine having to learn about his powers surrounded by—to your eyes—a lot of heroes, nearly all with superhuman abilities. It had been just him and his mother when he learned how to use magic, and he hadn’t even let Thor watch.

It was as if his train of thought summoned you—if only for a moment. Loki barely had time to spot you before you were brushing past him and running for your room. That was abnormal; you always greeted him, always.

“Are you alright?”

The slam of your door was his only answer.

…

Someone was knocking. You’d just hurt Captain America, your heart was pounding, you couldn’t catch your breath and someone wouldn’t stop knocking.

“Y/N? It’s Loki, can I come in?”

Your breath caught in your throat—you couldn’t answer.

“If you don’t answer me I’m going to come in.”

You opened your mouth to try again, then stopped. Did you even want to tell him to go away? After all, he was the one you’d wanted to train you.

But what if I hurt him?

It was too late, the door was opening—

“It’s alright.” Loki was in front of you before you’d even seen him enter the room. “Take a deep breath.”

You tried—you really did—but you couldn’t manage anything better than a wheezing cough before you went back to hyperventilating. Your head was fuzzy, your knee was shaking, and you just couldn’t breathe.

“Ok, too late for that,” Loki muttered to himself before reaching for you and grabbing onto your hands.

“No—“ you managed. You didn’t want to hurt him.

“It’s ok,” Loki assured you. “It’s ok. I want you to let it go—all that power that’s going through you—let it go.”

It was now that you saw the bits of orange floating around your fingers.

“No,” you whimpered. “I can’t control it.”

“You don’t have to,” Loki promised. “You can’t hurt me. Let it go.”

You closed your eyes tightly, forcing a breath in, then harshly out. With your breath, you also forced out your powers, pushing them away to where they couldn’t control you.

“That’s it.”

You snapped your eyes open; the orange of your powers was flowing over Loki’s hands and morphing into green. He was absorbing your expelled energy.

You kept pushing, forcing the magic out until you were spent and collapsing in Loki’s arms.

“It’s ok now,” he said softly. “Do you feel any better?”

You slowly pulled away, taking one deep breath, then another.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “What—what was that.”

“You were having a panic attack,” Loki said.

“I got that—I meant with the magic.”

“You’ve been tamping down your powers and your emotions for too long, haven’t you?”

You swallowed. “They—the avengers—they said I had to have control.”

“You can’t have control by shoving down your emotions,” Loki argued. “You’ve got to feel them, otherwise your powers will build up until they just want to explode. If that had happened somewhere else, it could have been bad. But I know how to absorb energy so it couldn’t go anywhere.”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.” You sniffled.

“Hey.” Loki patted your shoulder. “Your emotions won’t hurt people if you don’t bottle them up like that. I can teach you, really teach you, how to control your powers, and you won’t have to stop feeling. I’ll talk to the team; we will. We’ll convince them, ok?”

“Ok.” you nodded, the ghost of a smile flitting across your face.

“Ok.” Loki stood to leave, but you stopped him with a question.

“Hey Loki?”

“Yes?”

“Where did you learn all that?”

Loki’s face twisted in a smile.

“My mother helped me—when I was just about your age.”

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Whumptober 2024 No. 28 Altprompt- Venom

I had to do so much research for this snippet guys, I really hope you like it!

“And this, my dear Hero, is where I keep my babies,” Villain said, opening a large metal door.

Hero followed them outside, astounded to see what looked like a mix between a zoo and a wildlife center. All kinds of exotic animals prowled about in enormous enclosures.

“Is this what you spent that stolen bank money on?” Hero asked in awe.

“Maybe~” Villain sang.

Villain strolled up to a tiger and petted it, the tiger purred loudly.

“Who’s a good boy, you are!” Villain cooed.

Hero kept their distance; they didn’t want to be tiger meat. Villain beckoned them over.

"He won’t bite,” Villain promised, “unless you’re a raw steak of course.”

Hero gulped, coming over. The tiger sniffed Hero’s hand, then pressed its head into it, purring. Hero stared slack-jawed as they stroked its fur.

“Aw, he likes you!” Villain smiled.

Villain showed Hero a number of other animals, all of which were rescued in some way or another and unfit to return to the wild. A scarlet macaw, a European badger, a very tiny species of deer. Suddenly, Villain’s face fell.

“Oh no,” they said, “not again.”

“What’s wrong?”

“My platypus,” Villain said, “he’s run off again.”

“Maybe he had to fight Dr. Doofenshmirtz,” Hero joked.

“Oh, this is no laughing matter, you have no idea what Percy is capable of.”

“What do you mean- AUGH!”

Something pinched their ankle, and Hero dropped to the ground, clutching it for dear life as electrifying pain exploded through it.

“Hero!” Villain shouted.

Villain bent down and picked up the offending animal; it was none other than Percy the platypus.

“No sir!” Villain scolded, putting Percy back in his home, “we do not sting people!”

“That thing is venomous!?” Hero screeched through the pain.

“Well, yes,” Villain said between Hero’s screams, “stay there, I have what you need.”

Villain ran to a cabinet near Percy’s enclosure. They pulled out a vial labeled “nerve-blocker” and a syringe. Filling it, they ran back to Hero’s side.

“Shh, I know, I know,” Villain soothed, “it’ll be over soon, I promise.”

Villain pulled up Hero’s pant leg and examined the wound. Their ankle was already quite swollen. Villain injected the contents of the syringe right into the envenomation site. After a few minutes, Hero’s screams died down to little whimpers.

“Why,” they panted, “do you have… that… in your collection!?”

“Percy can’t swim,” Villain said, “he wouldn’t make it very long in nature. I’ve gotten my fair share of stings from him. I’m just sorry you had to experience it. He is a bit skittish around visitors.”

Hero went to stand, but Villain stopped them.

“You won’t be able to walk for a few weeks,” Villain said, “I need to have you on nerve-blockers around the clock.”

“WHAT!?”

“Your symptoms won't subside until then, and you might still have trouble for a few months after that. Fortunately, I am delveoping an antivenom. I’ve been studying Percy’s venom and I think I almost have it down.”

“Wait… there’s no antivenom!?”

“No, but there will be as soon as I finish it,” Villain smiled awkwardly.

Hero couldn’t even feel their ankle now, which was far better than the last minute and a half, but that meant no heroics or anything at all really for some time.

“I’ll take care of you, Hero,” Villain said, seeming to read their thoughts.

Villain picked Hero up in a bridal carry and took them from the site, back inside their lair. They brought them up to a guest room and laid them down in a bed.

“I’ll get all the medical equipment hooked up to you,” Villain said, “and then we’ll talk about the recovery plan, okay?”

Hero nodded, their adrenaline wearing off and giving way to shock. In all of their fights, they had never felt pain like that. Percy was suddenly far more terrifying than any supervillain.

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[kaythefloppa]

Wild Kratts - Chimpanzee and Me - Thoughts

The last of this week's new episode premiere, released online today alongside Salamander Streaming and Bumblezzzz. Will air on TV this coming Wednesday so as always, spoilers ahead!

K, so huge confession but Zooboomafo was the only other show by the Kratt Brothers I distinctively remember watching. I watched a few clips of Kratts' Creatures, but mistook them for WK as a kid. This is most definitely a callback to some Chimpanzee adventure episode in KC that I did not happen to pick up. So it's totally lost on me.

That being said, my prediction of references to previous Kratt Brothers' works reigns supreme (and for those who view all four Kratt Brother shows in one hollistic "canon" here's some ammo for your fan-theories).

Look at those delicious yummy grapes... wonder if they're being saved for later.

I will still never forget when the synopsis for this episode came out about Chris spraining his ankle, as well as when a synopsis for the clip came of him tripping on grapes. The constant memes and reactions omfg /silly

But seriously this man is in PAIN. This season for what it's worth, does a lot of angst and in ways you'd never expect.

I've never sprained or broken a limb, so I'm probably in no place to talk, but from the looks of that frame, Chris bent his ankle pretty damn good. He's definitely gonna be on hiatus for the next few weeks (which could ironically be taken metacontextually since after this episode we'll be on another hiatus until next year when the live show comes)

Ok let's talk about the villain's plan here. He wants to replace his Zachbots with a Chimpanzee he can roboticize to do his work. Here are my many thoughts and takeaways from this, some of which, definitely are just me reaching.

A step up from his dumbass plan in the last episode. Not threatening, but motivations that are actually sensible (but still evil though).

More than once have I seen the theory floating aound where Zach programmed his bots to be smart enough to obey his commands, but dumb enough to where they won't turn against him. I assumed that this episode was going to end with the cliche of Zach's creations turning on him as laser guided karma (hint it doesn't) so it really puts things into perspective.

Considering how we are getting two Zach-related episodes in a row, coming just off the heels of Our Blue and Green World, I like to headcanon that Zach's overall character in this batch of episodes is some form of response or byproduct of the events of that special. Because between Paisley's sudden betrayal, Donita's callous threat of physical violence in the previous episode, and his henchmen's limited intellect, he realizes how much he is fundamentally losing control, both in the villain team, and in his own endeavors as a villain. He's slowly, yet consistently and constantly being knocked down from the pedestal that he views himself on, and by trying to change the status quo with a new animal assistant, he thinks he can keep himself up at the top where he thinks he belongs, completely oblivious to how he's his own worst enemy. Yes, I'm overanalyzing all 3 episodes and I love it.

This is another moment where I HAVE to use my one-video-only-free-card to convey the point across because a certain scene is that good. This is only a 34 second action sequence where the chimpanzees are running from the Zachbots, but holy hell the background music. I had to isolate the background noises just to share it with y'all so you can see my point as to how the music absolutely carries this scene. Pure West has always gone so hard with the scores in this show, but they were absolutely on fire for this brief chase scene. I actually tensed up seeing the Chimp's mother getting torn away from her baby as the music swole up. Yet another reason why PBS should release an official soundtrack for the series, it's so fucking good.

Ok so Chris doesn't activate Chimpanzee Powers, nor does he invent the disc but goddamnit! This entire plot is so cute, and dare I say, the episode actually works better with Chris not being the one to activate the suit.

Now I can use my allotted time to point out how much I love this scene and why it makes this episode very well-liked for most people, myself included. This isn't the first PBS Kids show to educate viewers on non-verbal communication such as facial expressions and sign language, and it's definitely far from the last, but it's a really sweet and sincere moment that's both educational, and really good rep for people who use sign language. It gets its point across efficiently and could very well reach out to any children at home who use ASL. It's magnificent.

Also, Leah is fun, I hope we see her more in future eps.

THE CHIMPANZEE POWER SUIT

Ok I take it back: This is definitely the best designed Creature Power Suit of S7. I remember dreading it because of how alike Chimpanzees and Humans are physically, but oh my god I am so glad to be wrong. It's giving full Season 1 vibes (looks a lot like the Orangutan Suit, total sense), and I am all FOR IT.

And again, I feel like I would/should be angry or disappointed that Chris didn't activate the suit, but again, the plot actually works better without him using the suit, and the design of the Chimpanzee Suit itself is so good, everything just comes together neatly.

Bro is in his peak.

I mean, still peak.

Joss pointed this out better than I could, but there are a lot of varied facial expressions for Zach in this episode. As mentioned earlier, during the hiatus in between Season 6 and 7, new builders and riggers were hired on the animation team for Wild Kratts, many of them likely fans of the show themselves. And again, seeing as there's a 2 year gap between S6 and S7 in terms of development, there's bound to be some slight differences in rigs or models. Which is definitely why we get a lot of moments like this in the episode.

My two cents. I can definitely see why people would be caught off guard, and yeah, at such a high frequency it can get off-putting and requires some getting used to. But at the same time, I kinda dig it, just for the camp factor. It also somewhat reminds me of some of the facial expressions used in the pilot episode, (which has the stronger excuse of different animation + art-style to back it up), but yeah, definitely something that catches the eye.

Zach's hair is defnitely giving Kovu from Lion King 2 and I mean this in the worst. Possible. Way.

This entire scene can be seen as an allegory for two different types of parenting. Zach takes harsh, demanding approaches, speaking without listening for the sake of control, all out of a place of emotional unintelligence and immaturity, which alienates + drives away the child; Whilst Chris takes a more constructive, compassionate, understanding, yet still direct approach to get through to the child/chimp, allowing for a proper solution to the issue at hand. Yes, I'm pointlessly over analyzing even more but in an episode where communication is the main focus & moral of the episode as well as the resolution to the climax, I have to wonder if someone, whether it'd be the writers, animators, or even network execs did it on purpose. Because once again, you could takeaway a really good lesson for kids, and even adults with this interpretation in mind.

Oh yeah, once we get past that stuff, the climax of this episode is like, really fucking hilarious. And Zach getting mind-controlled by his own helmet is still a good dose of laser guided karma.

CONCLUSION:

Cons:

A few of the facial expressions can be a bit jarring. Again, Joss pointed it out perfectly how this episode could've been earlier in S7's development so these adjusted rigs probably can and will get better. I wouldn't even say it as a con, it's just some little thing of the episode that doesn't really lower my overall opinions.

This is a personal nitpick of mine; Not a critique. I think we could've seen more of the chimpanzees in action. I'm talking about face-offs with gorillas (which I think we might get an episode on that in the future, idk), hunting monkeys, leopard attacks! But I do get why it wasn't in the episode, it would've just bogged down time. Frankly, the only reason why I'm putting the cons first is because there is so much I have to say otherwise.

Pros:

The animation overall

The backgrounds

The Chimpanzee Power Suit

The Chimpanzees themselves.

The Background Music

Chris angst!!!!!!

The A plot and B plot perfectly complementing each other, which makes certain writing decisions that could've fallen short, work so much better as a result in execution!

Zach not being a dumb POS like he was in the last epiosde!

The chimpanzee designs!!!!

The very well-handled representation and depiction of sign-language and lessons of communications to its young audiences!

Final Ranking: 9.2/10. Our Blue and Green World and No Name Dream subverted expectations (mainly through Paisley's redemption and the S1 callbacks + the return of the Draco Power Suit). This is the first episode of Season 7 that exceeded my expectations. It is far better than how I thought it would be, and the experimental writing that this season has been hinged upon thus far hit the mark entirely when it came to this episode. So much so that it actually raised the already-high expectations I had for the new season. It is that. Fucking. Good. I'd easily call it a contender for one of the best episodes of the season, but again, we'll have to wait and see.

[ciaomarie]

ESCAPING INTO A SHIP

So what exactly made me latch onto the Sydcarmy ship like a leech on a water buffalo?

It was unexpected (for me)! Yes, the very first meeting between Syd and Carm did make an impact. I thought "Oooh, what's this?!" However, Carmy was/is such a mess that I quickly dismissed it. And Sydney just seemed to want his professional approval and a partner in making something great after the soul-crushing failure of Sheridan. So, the first season I personally didn't feel a mutual sexual/romantic tension, more like an automatic respect and shared goals/passions. Sydney nor Carm were obviously trying to flirt. Most slow burns on TV are 100% obvious like a Jeanine and Gregory (Abbott Elementary), Nick and Jess (New Girl), Jake and Amy (Brooklyn 99), Jim and Pam (The Office)...Until Braciole Ep. 8 that is.

S. 1 Episode 8- I won't get into everything but Carmy was desolate. Yes, he became a psycho chef and two people quit in Ep.7. However, he mourned Sydney more than Marcus. She was in his flashback/nightmare (?), then the way he told Tina that she looked like Syd (the poor pup), him texting her before opening the note from Mikey, and finally the most gorgeous locked gaze scene since Pride and Prejudice (2005). The soft lighting, the music, the colors, the mind-reading...magical. I still didn't get it initially. Silly, blind me.

Mentorship where??? Season 2 Carm and Syd's "mentorship" dynamic is pretty much over. They are true partners and spending more time together. They're dressing alike even when not in uniform, finishing each other's sentences or talking in unison. Sydney is opening up more of herself and Carm is asking to know more. They use the ASL sign for sorry with each other and no one else until ep 10. Then there's that locker scene in ep. 1 or 2, when they almost hang out just cause. However, Carmy misses the moment and there's the return of the kicked pup face. Before being on the ship I was delighted with all of their scenes and was looking forward to the food tour. They just ROCK together on screen.

Classic Love Triangle- Who's Claire? She's "Claire Bear", the prototypical "cool girl", who is willing to chase an socially awkward, wrong-number-giving man, despite being a pretty ER resident with no shortage of options. Did a CW writer get hired? Anyways, why was her presence used almost exclusively to put strain on Carmy and Sydney's relationship instead of The Bear generally? We could have had scenes with Nat, Richie, and Marcus arguing with Carmy about him being distracted due to Claire. They saved 99% of that for Sydney. They CHOSE to insert her in between or just after scenes with him and Claire. Showing Sydney's tattoos and her getting dressed with the stained chef's coat juxtaposed with them was WILD.

I LOVE that both believe their interpersonal problems are solely about The Bear/business partnership. In most "slowburns" the characters are far more conscious and actively work to keep things platonic. Jeremy might be a smidge aware that Sydney means more to him after the panic attack, but I bet he's shoved it down. All he knows afterward is that being with Claire feels wrong hence ignoring her call and recommitting to SYDNEY. He could of said "You all/This/The Bear deserve my full focus etc..." He was also nagged into greeting Claire at Friends and Family, seemed anxious when Fak brought her up right before The Table scene, and also while explaining that "she's great" to Sydney. He was at peace when focused on Sydney in the moment below.

The actors: Jeremy and Ayo's real life friendship is warms my soul and their chemistry onscreen is amazing. DON'T WASTE IT!!!

Jeremy smolders on screen. I want to see Carmy continue to stare, yearn, fall, then eventually confess and for Sydney to reciprocate his feelings. Anyhoo, does anyone else melt when Carm means business?! They do this twice in season one and it's not good for me. Whew, I need to clean my whole house or run a few miles.

Finally, there's so many other parallels between these two. They are fearful avoidants, have a missing or dead parent, jacked up stomachs, use sarcasm, but are generally very earnest, they struggle with anxiety, are compassionate, are perfectionists, peace-makers, give people multiple chances, are workaholics...so much more. A lot of that is also ME, lol.

Sydcarmy is my Roman Empire. I love them as much as you can fictional characters and they deserve the most tender, angsty, triumphant, romantic best-friends to more love story.

[sparklingcid3r]

Do you have thoughts on Darry's pov about Pony getting jumped

If you guys ever want to just have a terrible night, go back and reread the way Pony describes Darry in the first chapter. It’s actually brutal and I can’t believe he let Darry read it😭🙏 He wanted that A bad

Because I swear, yall don’t need my thoughts on Darry’s pov because Pony is pretty much gifting to us, it’s just that it’s muddied by his own personal bias/narration that you miss just how much characterization Darry gets. If you take out Pony’s internal thoughts, you’d think Darry was the tamest/most thoughtful of the bunch through actions alone, even if he comes off a little heated.

I’m gonna go ahead and do it here anyway to show you what I mean. We’ll go in order from Darry’s first appearance to the end of the chapter, but I’m only giving you his actions and his dialogue. Toss up a prayer now bc Darry is done FILTHYYYY

(ignore my highlights, i j started annotating lol)

Immediately we’re introduced to Darry as the person who’s literally getting Pony back on his feet. He’s shaking Pony by the shoulders to get him to respond because he doesn’t always realize his own strength compared to Pony’s. This is probably the relationship he has with most of the gang since he’s most likely the one working out the most consistently of them all, what with his job and gym runs.

But when Pony tells Darry to stop, it’s not like Darry glares at him and says “I’m just checking on you.” Instantly, he recognizes he’s being too rough and apologizes.

This is a few lines later, after the description of Darry and their father, but Darry’s still the only one talking at this point. I thought it was interesting that he jams his fists into his pockets, and my thoughts are that he’s physically restraining himself from Pony as to not hurt him worse, especially since he’s asking Pony how badly he’s just been hurt.

This is Darry’s reaction to Soda calling Pony an okay kid and Pony grinning in response and calling Soda crazy. It’s the most sibling thing I’ve ever seen idk, especially when Darry just grins at Soda’s teasing and lets it go. It’s literally Darry being a softie in front of Pony, but it just doesn’t click for Pony yet give him a minute he’ll get there🙏 in two hundred more pages

I was pretty surprised when I went back and read the book. For some reason I misremembered Darry as being completely hypocritical whenever talking to Pony about school smarts vs street smarts, but he’s pretty much going out of his way to compliment Pony here.

And I mean, these are pretty tame bites at Pony, overall he’s being pretty lighthearted with his words. I wasn’t reading this with an angry Darry in mind, just an exasperated one that wishes his brother thought about his own safety more often so Darry didn’t have to do it for him.

Y’all probably remember this from the movie lmao, I love Patrick Swayze’s portrayal of Darry, I think he nails the character completely. Darry’s so obviously not angry at Pony here, especially not when he’s laying off when Soda tells him to.

Dally is figuring out who’s going to the Nightly Double with him, and I was surprised by Darry’s reaction. Canonically he doesn’t even like movies, Pony literally said it a few pages ago, so he’s either faking his disappointment (lmao) or would have actually gone for Dally, which was wild to think about.

So this was also pretty interesting. Even when I was a kid, my parents let me go outside and play with the neighbors for hours at a time, pretty much until it got dark. Things were veryyy different in the 60s, where it was normal for parents to go to sleep with their kids out in the night and wake up with them home, weekends especially. When considering that their parents are yk, dead, Darry wanting Pony to keep his grades in check on the weekdays only and handing off the reins on the weekend is pretty cool of him imo lol

And this was just adorable

But that’s it, the rest of the chapter is Soda and Pony talking about Darry, and then Pony’s internal monologue about how much he doesn’t need Darry and doesn’t care about him, but that he knows he lying to himself :(

Their relationship is one of the single greatest things in the book and honestly, Hinton makes it clear from the beginning what Pony realizes later: that Darry never once “didn’t care” about Pony or thought of him as a burden. Maybe he’s overbearing sometimes, but for someone who has so much pressure on him nearly all the time, he does a pretty good job with what he’s given 🤷‍♀️

His biggest flaw is his inability to communicate how he’s actually feeling to Pony, who he should know by now doesn’t take well to visual cues. But other than that, gold star for Darry Curtis!⭐️

[traldemic6]

Reddit post found in the wild:

"AITA for confronting my son's (16M) football coach for literally fattening him up?"

Post below:

"For some background, my son is 16 and has always been pretty athletic. He plays football and swims competitively, and he’s been doing both for years.

This past offseason, his coach told him he needed to gain weight—a lot of weight—like 40 pounds. The idea was to get him up to 200 pounds for this season. Now, my son, being the rule-follower and total team player that he is (plus, he can eat like no one else), didn’t question it and just went for it. The problem is, I had no idea this was happening, and it wasn’t until recently that I realized just how extreme the coach’s advice actually was.

Apparently, the coach gave him a whole list of “rules” to follow to pack on the weight quickly. We're talking calorie goals every day, specific fast food orders to hit those numbers (hello, McDonald's), drinking more soda (which we don't usually keep much of in the house), and even ordering supplements online. Now it makes sense why boxes of Boost started showing up on our doorstep out of nowhere! And to top it all off, the coach told him to cut back on cardio—including swimming, which is something he’s always loved.

I didn’t really put all the pieces together until later, but now, looking back at this summer, it’s so obvious. He wasn't running as much, and his swimming practically stopped, which was strange for him. And the food… it went from the usual healthy stuff to fast food galore. But honestly, I didn’t think much of it at the time. I just thought it was him being a lazy teenager.

Fast forward to now, and I can definitely see the difference. He’s already put on 35 pounds, and it shows. I hate to say this, but his stomach is starting to look like his dad’s. And he’s never had a weight problem before! He’s always been fit and active, so this feels like wrong. And I can’t help but worry this is setting him up for bigger problems later on.

I asked him what was going on, and to his credit, he was pretty upfront about it. He explained the coach’s plan, and he doesn’t seem to think it’s a big deal. Meanwhile, I’m sitting here feeling so guilty for not catching on sooner, and also furious at his coach for encouraging this. Both my son and my husband acted like I was overreacting. Apparently, my husband knew about it all along and was quietly supporting it! They both say I don’t “get it” because I’m more into swimming than football.

I requested a meeting with his head coach one-on-one, but husband and son both say I'm majorly overreacting, don't understand how football works these days, and that intervening made me a "Karen." But I’m worried about his health in the long run. AITAH for contacting his coach?

TL;DR: My son’s coach is pushing him to gain a ton of weight, and I’m not sure if I'm the asshole for requesting to meet with his coach about it"