#I’m sorry for your niche tastes

[badolmen]

I feel that there’s a world of difference between “fandomizing real world politics and tragedies” (in my understanding - applying ‘fandom’ to, well, real world politics and tragedies eg. shipping war criminals or writing rpf for victims of traumatic events) and “making fandom art which acknowledges real world politics and tragedies” (in my understanding - political cartoons/art with a particular flag/etc.).

I’m not saying that the latter can’t be insensitive or in poor taste depending on execution but also…idk it’s weird to see tumblr activists freaking the fuck out over art of dunmesh senshi bringing food to Gaza. I can’t believe that’s the hill you want to kill (your own allies nonetheless!) on. We have people writing smut for about specific IOF soldiers or shipping Palestinian journalists, like, is the comic imagining a fictional character showing up to help people in a horrific situation really what you want to call tone deaf and insensitive?

[svndaysaweek]

You Don’t Even Know My Name, Do You? — {Feat. Minji}

3.1k words

A/N: Hi! It’s me, back in 6 months! I had the idea for this one since last summer, but never really made it a fic. But now I post it…! It’s a rushed fic, no editing, I’m sorry for any grammatical errors or typos. Thank you @praeluxius for help and advice in making the conversation better and more natural! Thanks for 1.6k followers and most importantly 1k notes for ‘Niche’!!! Enjoy reading this and luv you all…!

******

Subways late at night are dangerous, and you can’t deny it’s because of you. Drunken bodies swaying along the rail, left and right, back and forth, grasping up on their wasted balance not to embarrass themselves by falling on the floor. Less than an hour left from waving away the day, you can tell where others in the train came from—bars, karaokes, or anywhere with entertainment and alcohol. Returning home after having some fun to wrap up the day and live the following day. Victims of society, some say, but that’s what all people are. We work, get paid. Victims don’t get to enjoy themselves, do they? But to be honest, you’re not the one to care for them, the victims, when you’re one of the victimizers.

You’re standing next to the door, the best position to scan the people in and out, empirically certified by yourself. There are quite a few people in the car—only a few seats available and half of the people chose to spare the seats empty. You’re holding onto a steel bar and slightly leaning your weight on it, eyeing thoroughly for your prey. But there’s no one yet to suit your taste, no one looking good and wealthy.

The mechanical female voice informs the next stop and a few dozens of seconds later the train halts for another group of people to be added to your menu.

“Alright, alright! I’m not that stupid to let someone just, like, snatch my purse away, huh?”

You hear a girl talking to her phone, laughing like she just heard the dumbest advice ever. A crop top for her defined belly to be open, relatively baggy jeans hinting the sculpted curve of her hips and full-blown outlines of legs. Within a second that girl has made everyone in the car latch their eyes on her doing nothing.

“What the fuck? I didn’t drink that much tonight I swear, and fuck, even an alcoholic won’t forget his own name,”

The girl, however, certainly looks drunk, sounds drunk, and acts drunk. Her eyes barely stay open, her tongue hardly makes her words clear. You can even smell how much she poured down her throat. It’s becoming more and more fit for your ideal condition.

Her talk goes on for a few more minutes then she puts her phone in her handbag and looks into the dark, mirror-like window. Her blinks become lazier and slower by the second, alcohol weighing her eyelids, but she does her best to stay up. She looks around to shake off the fatigue and meets your eyes, which have been on her since the moment she walked in. Three seconds is enough to make her look away in shyness, but it isn’t enough for her to examine you as her eyes lock with yours again.

She lets her eyes travel down your body to your toes slowly through(in) the window, alcohol erasing the fact that the subway is public. You pretend to neglect as she keeps eyeing you, head to toe several times, and the next stop the stumbly girl is forced to stand next to you by the crowd gushing in. Unavoidable contacts add leads to your eyes awkwardly meeting, which draws out mirrored smiles from each.

“Sorr-oh!”

A slight rattle of the train almost tackles her down but your arms are there to hold her from meeting the floor. 

"Careful, you almost hit your head, could have ended up like our friend over there." You nod and gesture at old man asleep at the other end of the carriage

"He looks peaceful though."

"You think you can stand up by yourself now?"

"Of Course! I'm not even that drunk."

"The last time my friend said that, he ended up face down in a bush." As soon as you’re done talking she stumbles again to her embarrassment. And of course you keep her standing.

"So you didn't catch him?"

"He's not as cute as you." She laughs and blushes, palm on her mouth and the tone a bit too high for a laughter in a subway. 

“Where do you live?” Change of topic, and you’re surprised that it’s her asking you, not the other way around as it used to be.

“Two stops before the terminus.” She checks where the train currently is, and stares at the map for a few dozen seconds as if her brain is still soaked with drinks, before looking back at you and pointing to the map.

“I’m getting off two stops later,” She blushes again, this time there’s even an awkward smile on her face. As if trying to say something shameful.

“And…” Her fidgety fingers dig into the arm of your shirt and her eyes are fixed on your shoes to never climb up. “And?” You repeat her, grin on your face because of her being so bashful and how overt her real intention is.

“And my name’s Minji by the way. Kim Minji.” It's trickery. A decoy. You almost burst into laughter but keep it down to a debonair ‘mhmm’ instead, hoping to bail Minji out of her own struggle to let the real words out.

And her phone rings. “No, not yet. Only two stops left. No, I don’t sound slurry at all, thanks. Oh my god, Hanni. I said I’m not that drunk! Yeah, I met a guy and maybe he’s taking me to my place-oh my god.” A brief moment of soberness washes through her body but her face is even rosier than ever. Over her phone you hear a woman shouting ‘hey’s and her name, but soon Minji hangs up. The train halts, and she just rushes between the crowd to get off out of shame but you catch her arm.

“Hey, it’s the wrong station.” She can’t look at your smirking face even facing you, face still red and fumbles the hem of her top. “Sorry for that… That was a total mistake.”

“It’s okay,” Minji raises her head, looks at you. “You’re drunk like hell, and you were going to say that anyways.” She's left speechless for a moment, then she opens her mouth to say something but frowns ignorantly.

“Why are you laughing? I was so embarrassed!” She's overtly trying to act cute and it's so working on you. With drunken red cheeks, slurry, lethargic pronunciation and on top of everything, her mesmerizing face. Even your most prior purpose is being threatened to melt by her exhilarating cuteness. 

“It’s nothing.” But your lips just can’t hide your smile, and there is more than one reason; Minji’s being so clingy, which is what usually happens when alcohol infiltrates people’s brains, and it is an aid for you as always. And when the announcement informs you of the next stop, her babyish grumbles are gone and shyness permeates again.

“So… Are you going to take me to my place…?” You hold out our arms and guide the groggy girl out of the train. “After you.” Minji can’t subdue the chuckles from the dizzy liquor, how sensible you are, at least in her opinion, and the fact that you two are going to stay the night together in her place. 

On the other hand, for you the reasons are somewhat different; it’s because tonight you made it, will see some pennies in your pocket and will be able to keep your stomach filled for a few more days. And she’s completely blind for that, giggling so innocently like what she’d do with her lover.

It must be her first time flirting with a guy. She can’t just follow anybody she likes. It’s dangerous. She can’t just trust anybody because he’s amiable. There could be a vice in his mind, transgressions at the tips of his fingers. Somebody should warn her about this, you think. How paradoxical. Maybe you won’t be doing this for long. But that’s something to worry about later.

All these thoughts pass through your mind in less than a second, and when you look back at her you see the green, innocent girl fluttered with excitement. “Lead the way please.” And she does.

******

“This is my place, it might be a little bit messy but-“ Minji opens the door and you close. “It’s okay. No one cares.” She sounds like the soberness has returned, but when you catch her ridiculously stumbling changing her shoes into slippers, ask if she’s okay, and she answers back that she’s alright, you just find yourself tentative about what’s in your mind.

“Are we going to kiss?” You know it’s a tipsy whim. You know she might not know what she’s doing. But it’s her asking you, not the opposite, she has no one to blame but herself, and you also know that she won’t. So you give it a go.

Her lips feel soft. You kiss her lips in a gingerly manner, eyes closed to focus all your senses to your lips. It feels like forever, but it’s obviously provisional so you do your best to find the perfect angle of your head, the right position of your hands, and the exact moment for your tongue to engage. A brief detach and then smoothly latch onto again, and a several times more, and in no time you two are completely submerged in the sensation, in the atmosphere and the feeling.

You open her lips with your tongue, and the key works so well you don’t even have to put any more effort to meet hers; she’s been waiting for it. When you taste her mouth, the alcoholic air hits your gustation and the olfactory sense—Jesus, how many glasses did she empty?—and you swallow it down to your body. Her tongue jockeys in your mouth, on your palate, around your tongue, everywhere it can reach. She’s so needy that when you try to withdraw for some air her arms lock you up and pull you in for a longer liplock.

But that doesn’t last long, before Minji herself pulls back to breathe.

“Minji,” Gasping, you call her name. She doesn’t respond. She takes your hand and drags you to her bedroom. It’s tidied up well unlike what she warned you about, but you don’t have any time to be infatuated with how neat her bedroom is, when her hasty tongue knocks on your lips to open up.

She really can’t hold it back as she redoubles the whirl inside your mouth. At this point you’re a bit shocked at how aggressive she has become—or, she might’ve been like this from the very start—but god, what a joy to reciprocate. But this desire is not a genital one, rather more like a sheer indulgence of the feeling itself as if it’s her first time.

“Minji, no one’s chasing you. You don’t have to rush.” Hands on her shoulders you say, in an assuring tone, to the panting girl in front of you. Regardless she dives in yet again, this time her hands dragging her jeans down, totally ignoring what you said. She doesn’t feel sorry, but neither do you when you can in fact enjoy what’s going to unfold.

You find it kinda cute to see that talkative girl in the subway all silent and busy with her hands with heavy breaths. It’s as if you have unbound her from the straitjacket—or the alcohol did—and her actual self inside was in need of some rabid lovemaking. No denial that she’s getting what she wants.

It’s hammy but a pleasure to watch. Her hands move to your top and hastily take it off of you, a sigh when it blocks the kiss. You’re overwhelmed as you take your pants yourself but Minji pulls it down to your ankles. Stepping out of them you push her onto her bed and crawl up to be parallel with her, eyes to eyes. When your erect cock brushes on her tummy she squints her eyes with a flinch. Her nerves are so worked up, whether it be from the intoxication she’s been in for hours or the anticipation. Or both.

“Minji, are you alright?” Her face is so red, her breaths are shallow and her teeth keep on biting her own fist. She just nods, eyes still filled with unrest; in fact you can’t tell if it’s concern or anticipation, but either way it’s your job to relax her. 

And putting her hand off of her mouth and replacing it with your lips is what you come up with as a solution. As if you want to absorb the turmoil out of her. When your tongues meet and intertwine her hands climb up to the back of your head and pull you deeper into the trance. Time passes like that. Minji’s so lost in the sensation, and when you lightly put your hand on her breasts she moans into your mouth. The size is just unblemished for you to leisurely fondle, so you keep doing that until she detaches from the kiss, asks you to take her top off with a coo.

“You look so beautiful. Just relax, Minji.” She bites on your under lip when your hand softly squeezes her breast and plays with her nipple. The pain is an approval you’d gratefully take.

You slide down to her neck, collarbone, chest, stomach and finally to her crotch, peppering everywhere on your way with pecks and licks and making it glisten. And oh, her pussy lips are already glistening—dripping, soaking wet—with her own water, nectar so dense with desire. You glimpse at her and she nods desperately, underside of her lips bitten hard, as if when you latch your tongue on her sex it’ll bleed. 

And when you do she yelps, sharp yet gutty, with her back involuntarily arching upward. “Ah, please…!” Is what follows her scream when you flick your tongue on her sensitive nub. You cherish her response and repeat it, eyeing her facial expressions and enjoying every furrow of her brows, every grasp on your hair and every squish of her thighs on your ears. It doesn’t take a while to reach the point where she loses control of herself. Where she loses her mind and cums with a scream. Your skull gets crushed between Minji’s fleshy thighs and your tongue drowns in her juices gushing into your mouth. It’s too saccharine, too flashy, beyond what you expected from her. 

“You’re so good at that… I’ve never squirted like that before.” Minji looks spent. Chest heaving up and down quickly, eyes almost teary and her tongue barely pronouncing correctly. You climb up again and lock lips with her, letting her taste her own liquid.

“Nngh…” You coat your cock with her prevailing girlcum, scrub it on her entrance a few times and slowly, slowly enter her first with only the head. That summons the clingy girl into her again as her arms lock around your neck and she screams into your shoulder. It’s enrapturing to feel the head of your cock slowly discover deeper parts of her, to hear her material moans permeating into your bones.

“God, you feel amazing!” Is what she says when you are halfway inside her. You withdraw a little bit, and put in even more, to make your entire cock disappear inside her. Her arms almost choke you when she hugs you tighter and shouts ‘yes’s and ‘oh my god’s right next to your ear.

“Minji, I’m going to move. I’m going to fuck you.” You groan. It’s finally the time to unleash everything in you, all too stacked up from the agonizing foreplays. “Yes, fuck me. Make me cum please-oh my god it feels so good!” You’re not going slow at all. The smacking sound is music to your ears, and her moans melt your brain. So you go brainless. Hitting the right spot and making her cry every time. It's soft no more, and Minji finds it crazy. Her arms can't settle down but intermittently darts about on the bed.

“Minji, fuck…” You doubt that she can hear you in the room full of her orgasmic yelps and moans. “Fuck, I love it! So deep inside me, don't stop…!” Her legs flutter, eyes roll back and fingers dig into your arms helplessly when she cums on your cock hard. “God, I can't… I can't-” The girl shyly asking for a kiss is now gone, beautifully degraded to a girl enjoying, loving and getting overtaken by the pleasure teeming into her. 

Overstimulated, Minji wriggles as if the sensations are throttling her. A few minutes you were caring about her more than you, but now your priorities are reset; you’re reminded of your purpose here, it's not for her sake, it's for you. And regardless of her condition you just push in, harder and deeper than each thrust, to the finish line. Her torso is turned red and at some point she's looking into your eyes, those subtle muscles beckoning for you to go for it, to cum.

“Minji, I'm cumming…! Fuck!” You splatter your seed all over her tummy and tits. The icing on the cake, an eye candy you're never going to be tired looking at.

“It was… Incredible.” Minji has a satisfied smile on her face. “Good to know you enjoyed it.” You nestle on the bed next to her, rearranging the wet strands of her hair out of her face.

******

Minji is asleep. Like nothing happened a few minutes ago. Like you're not in the bed with her. That's not an unexpected thing for you. You dress up, wipe your cum off her body. She's so pretty when sleeping, you think to yourself.

But right after that you take her purse; there are a few bucks and a credit card. And in the dressing table you find some fancy jewelry boxes.

It's bad, immoral. It's what you do for a living. Can't say you feel proud but not much of a guilt in your mind either. Maybe a little though. But only for this time. You actually liked Minji. Not that much, but you felt something different. Maybe you two can run into each other someday. And maybe you're hoping that happens, even though you know it won't help you in any ways. You can't explain it but there's something in your mind about what happened tonight. 

But you carry on, find a pen and a post-it, write something down and stick it on her empty purse on the nightstand.

‘You don't even know my name, do you?’

******

[queeraang]

sometimes, you dislike a piece of media that is very popular and objectively well made. the popularity of it will only make it more annoying to you. now, the solution is not to then comb through a thing you don’t like to see if you can find something problematic to harp on to prove it's actually bad (you will find it, no human being has ever created perfectly inclusive perfectly inoffensive art) that just tanks the vibe and discourages new art because what's the point if it can never be perfect, also sometimes you spin out of control and start accusing people of real life crimes over like... a niche webseries

as someone with over three decades of 'bad taste' under their belt, allow me to guide you on best responses using a real life example of a popular film series, i couldn't give less of a fuck about. the nolan batman trilogy

block, mute, blacklist, whatever you have to do to avoid seeing this thing on your preferred webbed sites

allow yourself a quiet “ugh this shit” when things slip through the cracks

pick a neutral element of the thing to dislike when people ask “i’m not really a batman fan" "i like more lighthearted superhero movies"

when inevitably someone can't BELIEVE you don't LOVE the best thing EVER MADE, you make it boring to talk about "yeah couldn't get into it" "it's just not my thing"

it also helps if you admit that it is good (i'm so sorry) just not good to you. the metaphor i use is gordon ramsey could make the most immaculate mushroom risotto ever made, but it's still not going to taste good if you don't like mushrooms

change the subject/leave the convo. i don't sit around listening to ppl talk about the dark knight, i ignore the gc for a few minutes, i go get a drink irl, if it's one on one i go "no, but you know i did like birds of prey, have you seen that?"

if someone really won't let up, stop talking to them! a guy who always wants to talk about how i should watch batman is a fucking weird guy to know

vent about this with like minded people SPARINGLY, too much and you'll fall down the "and everyone who does like it is morally bankrupt" hole

crucially, don't do this to other people for stuff you like. you're not the arbiter of taste, your "best movie ever" could be someone else's "if i have to hear about that shit again i'll scream"

like i'm sure i could figure out ways the dark knight trilogy is racist/ableist/etc if i really examined it, but like... i would so much rather just NOT WATCH THREE MOVIES I DON'T FUCKING LIKE

[katareyoudrilling]

Audience of One (Dave York one-shot)

Pairing: Bodyguard Dave York x Female Reader

Summary: When online comments threaten your safety, you reluctantly agree to hire a bodyguard

Word count: ~3k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: a bit of danger, masturbation, unprotected PIV (please use protection IRL), a hickey (sort of)

A/N: This is my entry for @burntheedges Roll-a-Trope challenge! I got famous person AU and twisted it to fit my very niche tastes lol.  It has been quite a while since I posted something, thanks for hanging in there with me.  I really hope you enjoy it! Big thanks to @burntheedges for the beta 😘

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

Dave York Masterlist

Masterlist

Taglist – link in my bio or let me know!

“I really think you’re overreacting.”  You finish cleaning off your instrument and securing it in your case.

“I’m not and it’s not open to discussion.” 

You sigh.  “I’m a concert violinist, not a movie star.  No one is out to ‘get me’ or whatever.  This is ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” your manager forces you to meet her gaze.  “There have been emails, social media posts… I know you don’t want to believe it, but there are creeps out there focused on you.  I need you to be safe.”

She’s looking at you with so much care and concern that the fight leaves your body.  “Fine.  Send him in.”

“Thank you.”  She turns to open the door to the dressing room and gestures to someone in the hallway.  You gather the rest of your things into your bag and prepare to head to your hotel.

Your manager steps back into the room trailed by a tall, broad, dark-haired, incredibly attractive man in an overcoat.

“Meet Dave York, your bodyguard.”

. . . . . . . . . .

“I’m really sorry about this,” you apologize for the tenth time since getting into the back of the town car with your new bodyguard in tow. “All this fuss is unnecessary.”

Dave regards you across the darkened backseat.  “Your manager doesn’t think so and neither do I.  The sooner you accept my help, the better this will go.”

You lose your train of thought as the streetlights sweep across his gorgeous features.  His pouty lips… his aquiline nose… his strong jaw… his dark eyes… each feature takes its turn in the lamplight.  It’s probably for the best, taking him in all at once might actually kill you.  No one has the right to be this handsome.

You shake yourself out of your reverie and find Dave watching you closely.  You look away quickly, shifting your focus out your window.  You cross your legs, and the slit of your dress opens, revealing your legs up to mid-thigh.  You quickly adjust the skirt to cover yourself and tell yourself that you’re imagining Dave’s eyes flickering away.

You clear your throat, “Right, umm… how is this going to go, exactly?”

“I’ll be with you during the day.  When you return to your hotel room at night, I’ll hand off responsibility to my security team.  There will be extra security at your concerts and events as well.”

“That doesn’t sound too intrusive.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

“I hope you like classical music.”

“We’ll find out.”

. . . . . . . . . . .

And that’s how it goes.  Dave meets you outside your door when you’re ready to leave in the morning and accompanies you on each step of your schedule.  He tags along to masterclasses, rehearsals, concerts, and your own practice sessions.  Ushering you in and out of town cars and back exits.

You share brief conversations in the car.  His dry, sarcastic wit comes out little by little as you spend time with him.  He often makes you laugh and you thrill when his pouty lips tilt at the edges into a wry smirk at something you said.

He leaves you at your hotel room door in each city at the end of the day, waiting until you close the door to call his security team.

You don’t lean against the door and wonder where he goes after he’s with you.  That would be inappropriate.

You don’t replay the events of the day, the glances, the almost touches, that assuredly exist only in your own imagination.

You don’t catalog the little things you’ve learned about him.  Single.  No kids.  Ex-military.  Coffee, black.  Unexpected crinkles around the eyes when he smiles.

You don’t seek him out in the concert halls, looking for a sign that he enjoys the music you’re making, always finding him watching you intently from backstage, still and focused.

You don’t find yourself pulling out your favorite toy to relieve some tension more and more frequently as the days spent in his company add up.

Definitely not.

. . . . . . . . . .

“You played something different tonight.” Dave’s deep voice breaks the silence of the car. 

You hum your assent, “Sarasate’s Carmen Fantasy.  It’s a real crowd pleaser.”

“I didn’t know a violin could do that.”

You chuckle, “Yeah, the soloist gets to show off in that one.”

“You like to show off, don’t you?”

The energy in the car shifts in an instant.  Dave’s dark eyes are even darker than usual as he regards you across the cab.  The question hangs heavy in the air.  

“You have to like to show off to do my job,” you explain a bit breathlessly.  You meet his dark gaze, and he hums in approval.  “Do you like to show off, Dave?”

He drags his thumb across his lower lip, your eyes can’t help but follow the movement.

“No, I don’t like to show off.  I like to watch.”

His words hit you like an electrical current, zinging across your skin, breaking you out into full body goose bumps.

You hold each other’s gaze in the dark, your breath coming in increasingly erratic pants.  He doesn’t look away.  Neither do you.

You cross your legs and allow your skirt to fall open up your legs, just like the first night you were in the car with him.  This time, the dress has an even higher slit—you save this particular gown for when you perform the Carmen, you enjoy playing into the persona.  This time, you don’t cover up.

You watch as his gaze flickers to your bare legs, exposed practically all the way to your underwear, the tip of his tongue sneaks out to wet his plush lips.

He drags his eyes back up to yours.  The air is thick with possibility.  A line has definitely been crossed.  Words begin to bubble up from your gut when the car pulls to a stop in front of the hotel.

The moment pops like a balloon.

Dave opens his door and swings up and out of the car.  In a haze, you open your door and step out into the night.

The next moments go by in a flash.

You hear someone shout your name, Dave yells, you’re shoved against the car, unfamiliar hands grab your shoulders and whisk you into the hotel lobby and into the elevator.  The doors close before you can understand the commotion happening outside the hotel.

You’re flanked by security guards you’ve seen around after hours.  The words “assailant” “custody” “weapon” permeate the buzzing in your brain.  Questions form and dissipate in the tangle of your thoughts before you can get them out.

The elevator doors open on your floor, and you are bodily moved into your hotel room.  Before they can close the door, you finally manage to ask what’s going on only to be met with vague instructions to stay in your room and wait.

You pace the floor and look out your window, hoping for a glimpse of what might be happening on the street below, but you’re on the wrong side of the building.  It doesn’t hold any answers for you.

Your hands reach for your phone only to realize it’s still in your bag in the car, along with your instrument case.

The car.

Your mind returns to that moment right before you pulled up to the hotel.  So ripe with promise and possibility.

Then you had gotten out of the car.

Oh shit.

You got out of the car yourself.  You opened your door yourself.  You weren’t supposed to do that. Dave opens your door.  Dave ushers you out of the car.

It’s all your fault.

Just as your thoughts threaten to spiral, there’s a firm knock on your door.

“It’s me.  Everything is ok. Open the door.” You hear Dave through the door.  You rush over and check the peephole like he told you to.  At least you can say you remembered to do that.  You confirm it’s him and open the door.

“Dave, I—”

He crashes into you, pressing you against the wall with the length of his body before claiming your mouth with a rough, desperate kiss.  His hands grip your chin, your shoulders, your hip as he devours your mouth.

Your hands scrabble against his chest, finding the lapels of his coat to hang on.

Just as suddenly as you found yourself kissing Dave, you aren’t.  He pulls back abruptly leaving you cold and breathless.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t ha—”

You pull him back to you by his coat, drawing his mouth back to yours.  You lick into his mouth, moaning as he responds.

This kiss is less frantic, but still full of need.  Your tongues tangle together, tasting and testing.

Dave eventually breaks away, resting his forehead against yours.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes, I’m ok, but what happened?”

“A man came running toward you, the police have him now.  I’m sure it’s the person making those creepy comments about you online.”

“I got out of the car by myself, Dave, I’m so sorry, I know I’m n—”

“Shh,” he hushes you.  “It’s ok.  You’re ok.”

He presses his lips to yours, swallowing your protests, until you melt into him.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He drags his lips down your throat, across your collarbones and shoulders.  He licks back up the side of your neck.

You gasp as he drags his tongue over the sensitive spot on your neck.

“I noticed this mark the night I first met you,” he murmurs into your skin. “I was so jealous of whoever got to do that to you.  I kept waiting to find out who it was, to see if they were worthy of marking your skin, but there has been no one and the mark has stayed.”  You sense the unasked question.

“My… it’s… a violin hickey,” you pant as he drags his nose up the column of your throat and along your jaw. “Where my violin rubs against my neck when I play.”  He chuckles.

“Should I be jealous of your violin?”

“Probably.”

He hums against you.  “Fair enough.”

He steps back to the hotel room door and for a moment your heart drops thinking that he might be leaving, but he only opens the door to pull your bag and violin case into the room.  You hear him conversing with a guard outside before he closes the door, locking the deadbolt before turning back to you.

He shrugs off his overcoat and suit jacket.  He loosens the knot of his tie and begins to unbutton the cuffs of his sleeves.  You watch the movement of his fingers with rapt attention.

“So, Miss Show off. Do you want to show off for me?”  His eyes flash dangerous and dark and a thrill runs up your spine.

Adrenaline tingles in your fingertips as you find the zipper of your dress and pull it down your side.

You lock eyes with Dave as you let your gown fall to the floor, a puddle at your feet.  You are left standing in only your panties and high heels.

Dave drinks you in, caressing your curves with his warm gaze.  Your nipples harden under his perusal and wetness pools between your legs.  It’s all you can do to not rub your thighs together.

“Get on the bed.” He commands, his voice deep and rasping with need.  His shirtsleeves are rolled up now, exposing the tendons and veins in his forearms.  His hands fist at his sides, clearly fighting the urge to touch you.  But you’ve learned this about Dave, he is always in control of himself.

You walk over to the bed, turning your back to him and adding an extra sway to your hips.  You catch his strangled moan at the sight of your round ass framed by the string of your thong.  You turn to sit at the end of the bed with a satisfied smirk.  Dave stands at arm’s length from you, pinning you with his dark eyes.

“Show me.  Let me see if those fingers can play your pussy as well as they play your violin.”

You gasp at his filthy words and your center clenches with need.  Keeping your eyes on him once again, you drag your panties down your legs and off, kicking off your shoes as you do, and scoot a bit farther onto the bed.

You lean back into the plush bedding, resting on one elbow, knees bent, and spread your legs for Dave.

He drinks you in hungrily as you part yourself for him, dipping your fingers into your wetness.

Your mouth falls open as you circle your clit, a moan escaping your chest.  You fight to keep your eyes open so you can watch Dave watch you.  You really do like to show off and he is an eager audience.

You quicken your pace, hitting the rhythm you like best, and find yourself careening towards your peak.  Your hips buck on the bed, and you whine that you’re close.

“Show me,” Dave commands one last time before you fall over the edge, pulsing and shivering through your release.

 “Do I get a standing ovation?” you ask, breathless, once you’ve come back to yourself. 

“You tell me.”

You crack one eye open and find that he’s standing at the end of the bed naked.  His cock juts proudly away from his hips at full attention.

“My favorite kind.” You lick your lips as you sit up and crawl to the edge of the bed.  You look up at him as you take the tip of his cock between your lips, sliding down the hard length of him.  You watch his stomach flex with effort as he resists fucking into your mouth.

It makes you want to make him lose control.  He’s always alert and watching.  Even in the car on the way to the hotel tonight, he kept his cool as you tempted him.  Bursting into your room to kiss you is the only time you’ve seen him not in complete control of himself.

You tongue and suck and moan around him, losing yourself in the rhythm.  Dave drags his fingers down your cheek and throat.  

“Look at you, fuck.” He cups your breasts, swaying heavily between your arms, and pinches your nipples.  “I want to watch these tits bounce while I fuck you.”

You whimper around his length, arousal practically dripping down your legs.  He pulls out of your mouth, diving down to kiss you deeply and press you backwards onto the bed.

He arranges himself against the headboard and drags you on top of him.  “Ride me, baby,” he commands.  You eagerly comply, lining his weeping cock up with your entrance.

Your eyes roll back in your head as you sink down onto him, the stretch is so delicious with every inch you take.  When you bottom out, you open your eyes to find Dave breathing hard, the tendons of his neck taut with effort.

You rise and sink back down slowly, angling yourself backwards so he can see his cock disappear into your wet heat.  He licks the pad of his thumb and reaches between you, giving you friction that makes you shudder with each roll of your hips.

“Fuck yes,” he groans, eyes locked on your greedy pussy, swallowing him whole.  You feel yourself start to flutter around him, the intensity of his eyes on you drives your arousal higher and higher.  Being watched with so much desire gives you such a thrill that your orgasm threatens to take you far too soon.

You slow and lean forward, placing a hand on the headboard over Dave’s head.  Your breasts wobble in front of his face and he quickly takes one nipple into his mouth.  You arch your back into him as he sucks and tugs, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.

He holds your hips still with one hand as he feasts on you, bringing his other to cup and pinch your tender flesh.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cry as the pressure builds in your core.  Your hips grind into him, seeking relief as he relentlessly toys with you.

He allows you to move, to chase your high, riding his cock with abandon as he looks up at you with lust blown eyes.  You tilt your hips, and he finds your clit once again.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he praises you as you near your peak.  “Come on my cock, baby.  I want to feel you.”

You come with a gasp, rising up on your knees as your pussy clenches then collapsing back down with shuddering pulses.  Dave caresses your back before rolling you over and gently pulling out.  He kneels between your legs, stroking his length, as you lie boneless and hazy.

“That was so fucking hot, baby.” His jaw clenches as he strokes himself faster and faster.  “I fucking love to watch you.  Watch you play your violin… watch you touch yourself… watch you fuck…”

“It’s my turn, Dave,” you interrupt.  “I want to watch you come.  Come all over me.” You prop yourself up on your elbows and smirk at the way a shudder moves through his body.  He lets go with a groan, ropes of cum painting your tummy and chest.

You both collapse, satisfied.  Dave cleans you up, taking extra care with your breasts.  You smirk as he chases the warm cloth with his even warmer mouth.

“What happens now?” you ask later, when you’re twined together on the bed. “If that was the guy…”

“I’ll be here as long as you need me and even after you don’t,” Dave presses a kiss to the top of your head.  You snuggle into his side, relaxing in the knowledge that you are safe and thrilled with the prospect of showing off again for your audience of one.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A/N: I don't have, and never have had, a violin hickey. I probably don't practice enough lol. But they are often seen as a point of pride among violinists.

Dave York Masterlist

Masterlist

Taglist - in reblog

[potatogratins]

— first winter, then spring

꒰ summary ꒱ against the cold winter air, yuki ishikawa accidentally pulls a woman with him while running away from his fans. after an awkward interaction, they learn that they live in the same apartment complex. an unexpected relationship forms from hallway glances and cinema sessions.

꒰ genre ꒱ fluff ꒰ pairing ꒱ | ishikawa yuki/nameless female-identifying oc ꒰ w.c. ꒱ 7,924 ꒰ published ꒱ august 16, 2024

Conversations have always passed by me more than I probably realized. My eyes averted from the eyes of others, running away into the endless landscapes of vanilla-colored, semi-gloss-painted walls. There was something about the eyes that felt more vulgar than the parts we normally hid because, in retrospect, they are the most truthful parts of our body, more than our lips and hands. So when an outrageously tall and obviously strong Japanese man was looking straight at me in the eyes, there was something in me that knew that he knew who I was, even if I had nothing worth confessing about.

“I wanted to… thank you,” he said carefully.

Everything about this man was so meticulous.

“It’s no problem. You look like you needed helping,” I replied quickly.

He was, however, not so meticulous with his tracks.

 Just about twenty minutes ago, I began one of the most gut-wrenching runs in my life. This man, running from a small alleyway, tried to dash away from a swarm of what I would assume to be his loyal admirers. I happened to be in his way; instead of running right past me, he pulled me by the arm. It seemed that his running had preceded his thinking—it took him a minute or so to realize that he was dragging a woman along with him. The dry, cold winter air felt like a slap to the face every second I had to run with this man because now I had to help him–the both of us–get away from the crowd. 

Twenty minutes later, we’re in a hidden restaurant. There were no more screaming fans. All that there was were empty dining sets, niche Italian memorabilia, and bored employees. A confused set of customers would not stop them from moving on with their dull lives. The only thing missing was the plates of pasta, which this man insisted on paying on his behalf, that I wished would arrive faster to break any possible point of contact.

No, I don’t dislike him. In fact, he is a fascinating person—as all human beings are. But I would rather know about them from afar and not when they are trying to lock their eyes with yours every second you have to be with them. I’m more nervous about the idea of first meetings: the utter and complete awkwardness that renders a first meeting to stay a first meeting. I’m scared of saying anything that might make him run away—therefore, making me pay for the pasta.

An employee walked towards our table and as she was about to place the dishes on the table, my eyes looked at the food to his eyes.

Soft, but strong. Determined, but capable of surrendering. Cheerful behind such nonchalance. Flames that have never been extinguished. Nevermind the color of his eyes. At that moment, I knew who he was.

“We should eat,” he told me. I smiled. Yes, we should.

The near-ivory-colored pieces of pasta were fully consumed. There was happiness in my stomach. But I couldn’t uphold the proverb of “beggars can’t be choosers” because I was begging myself to stop eating these stupid cherry tomatoes. For me, tomatoes always tasted good processed, but disgusting in their raw form. It always perplexed me, but I guess that’s the magic of cooking.

“You don’t like the tomatoes?” he asked me.

“No, I don’t. I’m sorry,” I smiled bashfully.

He laughed, “Don’t be. I used to not like it a lot.”

“At least we have something in common.”

A few laughs. Then there was that excruciating silence. This began to feel more like a first date. We both took another set of deep breaths. We would be a fascinating pair to a set of psychologists.

“Why were they chasing after you?” I asked him. He tilted his head.

“Your fans, why were they?” I clarified.

He waved his hands and shook his head. “I… I don’t know.”

“You must be very popular for a reason.”

“I still don’t know why I’m very popular.”

“Well, you are quite handsome.”

He looked up at me quickly. Then he laughed loudly. I felt my cheeks grow as red as those cherry tomatoes.

“I’m just saying that you’re attractive. Nothing more, nothing less,” I explained as I put my hands up. He should know I’m not attracted to him, right? Fuck, he should know.

“I mean I play volleyball. I don’t think my uh… face… you know…”

It was clear to me that he underestimated the power of aestheticism. He didn’t realize how beautiful he was. Many men I have both understood and not simultaneously, but I know that not understanding how attractive you are was a good trait. Was it a case of humility? No, it was a matter of naivety for this man.

“I think it’s best to not know why you’re popular.”

“Why?” He raised his eyebrow.

“It makes you a better character. Just–don’t ask.”

He nodded slowly as he downed another piece of pasta. I turned away from him and checked the time: 9:37 PM. I felt my heart drop, then beat faster. My hands began to sweat, and my eyes and mouth widened, taking in the Italian restaurant dust.

He must have checked the time too because he had a more violent reaction to the time. He sighed, before looking at me and offered to take me home. I assumed he had a car in the parking lot waiting for him. Do you know what else is waiting for him?

“You don’t think your fans will be waiting by the parking lot?” I sighed, “It’s alright. I can book a taxi.”

I showed him my phone and pointed to the apartment complex on the map. He nodded slowly.

“Ahh, well I live there too,” he told me.

I felt my muscles pull my eyebrows. It was damn near impossible that we lived in the same place. That building wasn’t even tall. How could I not have bumped into him? That’s impossible. I’ve gone in and out of that complex many times for a variety of reasons. I should have all my hours covered: I left at two in the morning once to prepare for a road trip. Another at six in the morning to get ready to be a corporate slave. Seven in the morning when I was still taking up classes. All the hours leading up to twelve when I would oversleep and leave despite missing the acceptable hours to be late. Afternoon to return to my house. Night to buy food and do other shenanigans. How could I have possibly missed this man?

“Really? How come we’ve never bumped into each other?” I asked him.

“I moved a few months ago.”

There were then two of the greatest mysteries that arose: how have I never met this man and why did it take a Hollywood-like meet cute for us to meet? I would not try to attempt to solve them. I’ll leave it to the experts to tackle these critical questions.

The waitress walked up to us and told them that they were closing. It was right that we had to leave. Imagine having the most perfect day with no customers, then a pair arrives at the very last minute you could have chosen to close the restaurant. I would have comforted her and told her that I was just as ready to go home as she was.

We had to walk out of the tiny street and into a bigger road in order to find the taxi driver that the man had booked through his phone. For a few minutes, we stood there like idiots, but I was taking in the serenity of this silence. This was the quietest moment of my day.

When the taxi arrived, we sat in silence, sitting, again, like idiots. I turned my head to the window, watching the stores close as people walked by. What I always enjoyed about quiet rides was that you were able to observe people from afar and imagine the scenario they were going through before moving to the person behind them. You could think of the lives they were living until you were forced to push the thought away because you knew you would never see them again. We left the thought as it was.

I understood that it would not be the case with this man.

Though the trip was short, I began to feel groggy. We got into the tiny elevator, which could barely handle his height. I was curious to see the floor number he would press, but the thought was so shameful to me that I looked at the floor counter instead, seeing it go higher. When the elevator reached my floor, I turned to him, nodded, and left the elevator… a farewell that was guaranteed to be useless because he followed right behind me.

The man and I walked in the same direction for a few seconds before I turned to my door. I felt him tap my right shoulder.

“I cannot believe we never met,” he exclaimed.

“Our first meeting was certainly unique. Makes for a start of a good friendship, don’t you think?”

He smiled and held his hand out.

“Before I forget, my name is Yuki, by the way.”

The night proved to me that we were just both little idiots making their way into the world for the both of us could only nod and smile at each other. I shook his hand and told him my name.

“I hope you have a good sleep,” he said, and before I could say anything, he walked away. The window to chase after him began to close. When he got to his door, I looked away and went inside the apartment.

The following week, I began to look out the hallways to see if Yuki had come around. I was curious to know what happened to him since that night. What happened to his fans? Did he eventually get his car back? Did his teammates bring his stuff home for him on that day? However, I began to accept that this was just one of those moments where you meet someone once and never see them again.

“Hoy! Over here!”

My aunt called me from the other side of where I was trying to look for Yuki. She popped up with a son of one of our family friends, Charles, a mischievous tot at the age of five. He ran towards my legs. I picked him up and carried him while walking all the way to her.

“Charles wanted to pass by the playground, but I figured we could stop by to see how you were doing first.”

“Oh. Am I part of the play date?” I asked her. 

“You wanna come with us? I don’t mind if you do. Charles has been asking you for the past week, you know.”

“Looks like I’ll have to make up for the time lost then,” I looked at Charles and rubbed his nose. The three of us went to the elevator, and although elevator trips are short, there’s something about these that felt so excruciating. I thought to myself, “What if Yuki’s on the other side of the door? What should be my first greeting?” No, no, I’m not in love with him. People mistake general loneliness for romantic desperation. It’s just exciting to know someone who lives on the same floor as you. 

The elevator doors opened, and there was not even a human waiting on the other side.

How disappointing.

We walked our way to the playground, which was a lengthy walk for a tiny boy but much lengthier for the one carrying him. My aunt and I talked on the way, and before we even stepped foot on the edge of the playground, Charles signaled me to let him down. He ran straight to the swings. We looked at each other and sighed before sitting by one of the benches. We continued the conversation.

So, it was inevitable that I talked about Yuki.

“You don’t think he’s in love with you?”

“We’re just friends. We’re just acquaintances, neighbors who happen to be friendly with each other.”

“The way that you’re describing him just makes it sound like he’s in love with you…” she tapped her index finger on her chin before she said, “Or could it be possible that you described him that way because you’re the one who’s in love with him?”

The nerve!

“I’ve only talked to him for like an hour. I don’t know anything else about him, alright? He’s just… he seemed interesting to me,” and I hoped that explanation was enough for her.

“Alright, alright. I understand. It’s just different when it’s you.”

“Me? How?”

“Frankly, I've never seen you so invested in anyone”

I shook my head. She simply laughed, as she told me: 

“I’m just excited to see some developments in your life. You wanted some action after all, right?”

Most of the action in my life came in the form of a projector screen of a cinema. Films illustrated my biggest fears and desires, as well as situations we would never dream of going through. It’s one of the greatest man-made creations, and I am grateful for living in a time like this.

I watched a rerun of When Harry Met Sally, thankfully in its original dub but with Italian subtitles. I don’t think I would agree with the dubious morality of the film’s screenwriter, but the way she wrote her characters and of romances made you want to be whisked away by a heterosexual man, charmed by the most dramatic lines a man wouldn’t imagine saying in reality. Many romance films were never great critically, but they always seem so satisfying—especially when the man was written by a woman.

It was coincidental that this film was out again in the local cinema when I was at the crossroads of trying to figure out just why I was thinking of Yuki so much, even if I don’t think of him in that way. In summary, the film tried to answer the age-old question: Can a man and woman be friends?

The question just hurt my head, so I set it aside—in other words, ignored it.

As I walked home from the cinema, all I thought about was when Harry told Sally, “…When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” I wanted something like that for myself. I kept repeating the ending scene, keeping my head down, until as I entered the elevator, bumped into the chest of a friend—er, acquaintance.

“Are you alright?” A familiar voice asked me, and when I looked up, Yuki was looking straight down at me. I realized the difference in height between the both of us. I could only nod slowly at him.

“Are you sure? You were staring at the floor.”

I nodded profusely, stepping to his right. I still kept my head low. Come the elevator ride, which, again, always took a thousand years. As we went up, I could feel his eyes poke my unattractive slouch. Wish I could die right now! 

“Did you come from work?” He asked me, attempting to make small talk

The elevator doors opened.

“Ah, no. I came from the cinema.” 

We both stepped out. Every second turned into an hour, and though it took less than a minute to get to our doors, we seemed to be walking at a snail’s pace.

“You like movies?” He asked me.

“I love them. I watch one every day.”

“Wow. Are you actually a famous actress?”

“No, no,” I laughed, “But I wanted to be a filmmaker once.”

“You should recommend me some movies. I’m sure you have good taste.”

I smiled, “Thank you. But tell me what kind of films you like first. It might be too boring or too cheesy for you.” 

“I’m not really sure what I like. I mean I watch anime. But I want to know what your favorite movie is.”

I stopped. “Why?”

“Why not? You are a very interesting person.”

For a moment, I looked at him. His entire face, not his eyes. I’m not brave enough to look at them. I scratched my head and faced the floor again. He tilted his head, and I believed that for a minute, we turned into idiots again, waiting for each other to respond. He raised his voice to say something but changed his mind. I did the same thing. Eventually, I was the one who broke the silence that formed between us:

“I’ll slip in a list of my favorite films under your door.”

I mustered the courage to look at his face.

I don’t know if he was smiling through his teeth, but I knew that he was smiling with his eyes, and it made all the difference. I suddenly gained the motivation to write up a good list for him. I just hoped that he had the time to go through each and every one of them.

I didn’t know what men liked, especially with someone like him who didn’t seem too enthusiastic about cinema to me. You wouldn’t want something too violent, crude, dreamy, or fast-paced. Most definitely not too philosophical. It’s not that I wanted to impress him, I just felt like I didn’t want him to switch on the television and spend an hour and a half watching a film he wouldn’t even enjoy at all.

“I watched all of them, by the way,” Yuki told me when we bumped into each other again in the hallway. I guess it was the power of the first meeting: you just kept on meeting them again.

“All of them? But those were twenty films!” I felt my eyes widen. With a sports career like his, would you even have time for anything else?

“I watched all of them while stretching… or eating… or when I was bored,” he said as he walked towards me with a wide smile on his face.

“Did you enjoy any of them?”

“I liked all of them. Where do you watch them?”

Maybe I was too mean to his eyes. They were never meant to intimidate or to investigate other people but to comfort them. I now realized that he simply wanted to pay attention to me, which is perfect because I am, quite frankly, without attention. A few circuits in my brain exploded before I could give him a well-thought-out response.

“I watch them in the cinema just a few streets away. Or I watch them online.”

“There’s a cinema nearby?”

“Yes, it’s a fifteen-minute walk there. And it’s the perfect distance: fifteen minutes to the cinema to gather your expectations for the film you’re going to watch, and fifteen minutes from the cinema to ponder on what you just watched.”

“I never thought of walking that way. It’s an exercise for the body,  but I never thought it could be an exercise for the mind.”

“Well, Yuki, when you hate the idea of walking but have to endure it just to see something that could make you feel happy, you’d have to think of other ways to make walking enjoyable.”

“But why would you waste fifteen minutes just to see if you could feel happy?”

“It’s more than just the trip that could have brought me unhappiness. It could be a burnt egg during breakfast or a boss’ scolding in the afternoon. If I felt angry, sad, or both for more than twelve hours but watched a film that was an hour and thirty minutes long and had an extra fifteen minutes to myself just thinking about that film and how good it was, then at least I could say that the day was lived through well.”

For a minute, Yuki froze and stared at me. He then looked away from my eyes and nodded slowly, as if he had just processed what I just said. He laughed–no, giggled–and scratched the back of his head. It must have been a nervous reaction. Or maybe I was trying to read him a little too much.

“What’s your job?” he suddenly asked me.

“My job?”

“I-If you don’t mind, you know, me asking?”

“Oh, way different from the movies, for sure. I just work at a tiny office building thirty minutes away. Nothing too important.”

“You don’t make movies?”

“It’s just not practical. I hate my job, but at least it pays my film tickets.”

We both awkwardly laughed. My damn humor.

“Uh–Can I watchsome of the movieswith you sometime?” He asked me with a pace much faster than how he usually spoke.

“Of course.”

“But not all the time, I’m busy with training and games… of course…”

“It’s no problem. Just… tell me if you want to come with me. I go to the cinema on the weekends. I always leave at around six.”

“Okay. I’ll see you… next time.”

“See you around, Yuki.”

We exchanged our friendliest of smiles before Yuki walked to the door of his unit. For some reason, I didn’t want time to stop. I let out a loud sigh. As  I opened the door, I instinctively turned my head towards his direction.

He was looking at me.

“Goodnight,” I told him.

His smile was much weaker. Even if the only responsibility that was entrusted to his hands was to open the door of his unit, he seemed clumsy with it. Quite unusual for his character–even if all I really knew about him was based on limited interactions. He seemed to be in a trance; he shook his head and entered his home.

He didn’t greet me back.

Weeks had passed since we had a major interaction. There and then, we would greet each other a few times, but it wasn’t anything of importance for me to tell. Each and every greeting was filled with a pinch of half-crooked smiles and a teaspoon of inevitable awkwardness. In my case, I always seemed to enjoy our dishes of interactions but with a dash of overthinking. Did he hate me? I could never really tell with him, as the thoughts are always diminished every time he asks for my wellbeing.

“I hope the movie isn’t too long this time,” my aunt told me.

“I searched on the internet. It’s two hours and thirty minutes long,” I replied.

She sighed and told me, “Nothing I could do to stop you from your movie watching. Just text me if you’ll be home a little beyond 9:30. You know me.”

“Sorry for making you worry that one time.”

“It’s alright. I just don’t want your mom scolding me. You know how she is. Run along.”

I greeted her goodbye, as she turned her head to the television screen and watched a K-Drama that seemed to be all the craze these days. As much as I used to enjoy shows, I could never really commit to one, which is why I love films so much: it would only take one sitting for you to finish a story. As I waited for the elevator, a door opened, and a figure began to approach me. As I was about to turn to them, the elevator doors opened.

“Are you going to the cinema today?”

Ah, Yuki.

“Yes, I am,” I replied cheerfully. We both went on the elevator.

“What are you watching tonight?”

“Cinema Paradiso. It’s an old film–I think it’s older than me. It’s one of my favorite films, it was why I loved watching films in the first place.”

“You didn’t recommend that to me,” he pouted.

I was surprised by his memory. “It was a sappy film. I didn’t know if you’d like it. But it’s an Italian film, so you might be interested after all.”

“Then is it okay if we watch it together?”

When the elevators opened, I walked out first, and jumped up and down to his request as he walked out after me. I led the way to the cinema, which, of course, took fifteen minutes to get there. He was inquisitive, asking questions about other movies I watched and Italian cinema in particular–considering where we were and what we were going to watch after all.

“Do you still go to the cinema even if it rains? Orrrr if it’s too cold?”

“Yeah. But sometimes I get stuck at the cinema cause I’d forget to bring an umbrella.”

He looked at my hands.

“I hope we don’t get stuck tonight,” he said with a smile.

"I think we should be asking more important questions," I began to tease him.

"Like what?"

"Your fans."

He scoffed

"Oh, don't worry about them. It was just that one time. They don't know where I live anyway."

We eventually got to the cinema, which was, as usual, barely occupied. I never really knew if they were the same people visiting–you could never tell who was who in the dark, and I never bothered to search for familiar faces when the lights went up. We sat in the center because, to me, it was never too near nor too far.

The entire time, we sat in silence, with a few laughs in between. Being the emotional person that I was, I sniffled–the tears dried thanks to the handkerchief Yuki had brought. Most of the time, he was still, but I hoped that he was taking the entire film in. In the middle of the film, there were a set of scenes that embarked, full of longing and yearning, caused greatly by something that was difficult to attain for the film’s couple: love.

It was around this time I could feel Yuki squirm a little, whether it was because it made him uncomfortable or thinking of someone else, I could never really tell. In the corner of my eye, I could feel him turn to me, then to the screen, and to me again. When I finally decided to confront him, I picked up a piece of popcorn from the bucket and showed it to him, like a child putting out their favorite toy to everyone.

He thanked me. I had expected him to pick it from my fingers, but he ate it straight away instead. The pressure and touch of his lips were minimal but it was enough to at least make me identify that they were… soft. Besides the projector, one of the greatest benefits of the movie houses was that many of our facial expressions were concealed–something that I am grateful for hiding my red face. I placed the popcorn bucket between us and he graciously got some more, to which I hoped that he had forgotten what had just transpired minutes ago.

When the film ended, my eyes were puffy. Yuki, though I would say less generous with his emotions (or maybe he was uncomfortable with me?), had a few tears in his eyes. I pulled out the handkerchief he had just lent me and dabbed the corners of his eyes. It was a little difficult to reach out to him, not because of his height, but because I was trying to contemplate what was the socially acceptable distance between us. When his tears had finally dried, I stared into the credits.

“Let’s stay here for a while,” I told him, “I always watch the credits till the very end.”

When the credits were done, we left the cinema in silence. We stood side by side. Normally, if I were with a friend, I would have started babbling about the events of the film. Now, I found myself saying absolutely nothing. Not at all what I intended, because Yuki is also my friend, right?

“Now I understand why you go there every weekend. It was a nice movie. The atmosphere is quiet and the seats are good, even for someone as tall as me,” he turned to me and placed his palm on my head, as if to mock my height. I laughed at him and playfully slapped his arm.

“There’s something about that cinema that feels magical, don’t you think? That’s why I enjoy watching with a larger projector screen than a phone screen at times.”

“It’s much better when you watch it with someone.”

“It is! Sometimes when the film’s funny, it’s great to crack jokes with them.”

“You go with other people? Who else?”

“Oh, just my aunt. Or sometimes with a couple of friends.”

“No boyfriend?”

I paused. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to have one.

“No, I don’t have one. I’m too cowardly to ask anyone out.”

The air grew harsher, and so did the snowfall. I placed my hands in my jacket, placing my arms as close to my torso as if to shake off the cold temperature. It’s only a temporary remedy. My teeth began to chatter—so much for coming from a place that has never snowed. Yuki watched me freeze to death, with his clothes looking much warmer than mine,

“May I?” Yuki placed his hand in front of me.

I didn’t know what he was referring to, but I could only say “Yes.”

We stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, facing each other. He took my hands, using them to pull me a little bit closer. He warmed my hands by blowing into them with his breath and rubbing them with his own hands. For a moment, I looked at him and for the first time since our first meeting, I could never conjure up any hypothesis that could explain this behavior.

“I feel much warmer now,” I whispered to him. The travel of his eyes from my hands to my eyes was slower, more hesitant.

“Are you sure?” he asked me, still holding onto my hands. I let my hands slip away from his slowly.

“We’re almost there to the apartment. I’ll be alright now,” I answered.

The rest of the way back home was filled with silence and emotions I was yet to identify.

When we got back, we both stopped in front of my apartment. I was back to normalcy. I couldn’t look into his eyes.

“I enjoyed it–” I started.

“Are you going again next week?” He asked me immediately.

“Of course. Why?”

“Is it okay if… I went with you–”

“Of course it is–”

“I just want to be your friend.”

Silence.

“I don’t bite, Yuki… I’ve always wanted to know you more anyway. Don’t be a stranger.”

He smiled softly, and I felt my stomach flipping.

Again, I am not interested in him that way. It’s just the feeling of not talking to people a lot, I promise.

“Well then. I’ll see you next week,” he told me. He patted my head and walked towards his apartment.

In the next month or so, Yuki found his way into my life. I wasn’t complaining. It wasn’t that I didn’t have any friends, but I never had a friend as engaging as him.

Do friendships also have honeymoon phases?

Forgive me, allow me to retract my previous question.

There were times when we would walk to and from the cinema talking about the film we were about to or just watched, discussing the philosophy of the film and our lives. On other days, we didn’t talk about the film at all–we talked about ourselves and what we went through from the week before the shenanigans with my coworkers and my boss or with Yuki and his teammates. Sometimes, I would confide in him my loneliness and he in me his deepest fears. Though my usual travel time from or to the cinema consistently took fifteen minutes, we would sometimes delay it by five minutes… ten… fifteen… because we spent so much time talking to each other that we never really realized how slow we both walked.

But there were times when we would just walk in complete silence. We didn’t hurry to get back to the apartment either. We walked with a certain rhythm and pace, and somehow, I enjoyed that the most. The most important sound in a film was never really the music or effects that would play, but silence. It amplifies the richness of the scene and more so the action of us walking without speaking to each other. 

It was also this silence that made me hear the beating of my heart, that I am most certainly in love with him. Romantically interested. Admired. Liked. Fascinated. Intrigued. And I knew that this was a dangerous path, knowing his quirks and the time spent between us, I knew that there was no door for me to walk in and take a hold of his heart. 

I think I’ve seen this film before.

So I decided to guard my emotions, and not do anything about it. I valued his thoughts, and to a greater extent, our friendship. I couldn't tell how honest he’s been to his other friends, but I am not open to the idea of him losing a friend he could talk to just because she’s in love with him. I’ve dealt with enough heartbreak; I’ve mourned more of the friendships lost than the romantic relationship that could have been.

These feelings would pass, as all things have.

One particular night, we had just watched The Moon Has Risen, a Japanese film made in the 50s by Kinuyo Tanaka. Yuki was thrilled to see a film from his homeland, much more a film that he had never heard of. He told me that he was never fond of romance but was willing to give this film a shot since I told him that I loved that film so much–which led him to jokingly say that I was much more cultured than he was because I knew more Japanese films than he did.

But before we even got to the gates, he stopped me.

“I have something to tell you…” he trailed off. I raised my eyebrows. I have now seen his nervous state: his sweaty hands, his avoidant eyes, and much softer voice. Whatever he was willing to say, I knew that both of us were not going to be the same when we went through that gate.

“I’ll be gone,” he simply said. It was short and plain.

“For how long?” I asked.

“When spring comes, I–I’ll be moving somewhere else in the city. Then I’ll leave the country in a few months, then return next winter.”

In other words, he’s leaving. We were never to meet again.

“Oh. It’s a shame,” was all I could say. Short. Plain.

Spring was visiting in two weeks or so.

“Yes, it is,” he told me, “It’s more of a shame that we won’t have time together anymore.”

“Just when I started to get to know you…”

“I know. I mean we can uh… talk on the phone.”

I simply nodded.

“Are you upset with me?” He asked bluntly.

“No, I could never be.”

“I learned so much from you. Not just because of the films we watched. I am seeing my life in another way because of the things you would tell me. And I love you–I mean I–You’re a good friend, for that. You are a good person. Even if I know you have a hard time talking to people. You make an effort. I like it.”

Though spring was about to enter our small world, the air felt colder.

Colder than all the times we traveled to and from the cinema. 

I’m not allowed to be upset. He chose this career, and it demands him to do all sorts of things. That path was set in stone for him long before we had met. But there’s a part of me that wants to damn the stars–Was there no other way we could meet? I agreed to keep a distance and to not make a move, and now I won’t be able to admire him from that reasonable distance. The volleyball games were always there, sure, but I won’t be able to hear his every thought—an "exchangeless" currency that I now realize had a rarity I hadn’t hoarded enough. Still, I could not allow selfishness to overcome my feelings, after he had just called me a good person.

“Didn’t I tell you that our meeting was a sign of a good friendship? Distance won’t take away the times we had together, even if it was just for a season. I’ll always be here–and so will the cinema–if you ever decide to pass by,” I told him as I felt my throat dry and sting, “You’re dear to me, nothing will ever change that. So let’s not be sad.”

Yuki took the deepest breath and quickly looked down at his feet. He shook his head before looking up at me. He smiled at me, which I quickly caught faltering before he was able to put his smile back up again.

There were many things that I could say–more that were worth shouting. If silences could bring about a new layer of comfort between people, it could also incite fear: the fear that the ending will inevitably come. Though my hands were freezing, I wanted to say something just so we wouldn’t have to go back inside and return to our apartments and distance ourselves and move on with our lives. Or say something that could change the trajectory of our lives together.

But a coward was what I was. The good minutes of silence between us was a terrible signal that we had to go home, and that we did. The elevator ride, for once, moved in its natural time; it did not slow. Our steps out of the elevator were slow and hesitant, but time still passed quickly. When we got to my apartment, he told me, “I’ll be packing up. I think I’ll be done by next week.”

“Alright.”

“I might pass by your apartment before I leave.”

I took those words to heart. Too much, I believe.

Because he never visited me before left.

The seasons change, and so do we.

Spring has passed, and so has summer and fall. Winter is about to end.

My aunt was disappointed when she learned that Yuki had left, knowing that my life had returned to normalcy.

“Why didn’t you confess to him!?” She asked, shaking me violently, “Do you know how long your mom–Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this!? I can’t let my niece be bitchless!”

“Yuki’s a really famous volleyball player, you know that? I don’t think he has time for someone like me.”

“Pfft–for someone like you. If he tolerated you like you said he did, he wouldn’t go out in the freezing weather every weekend to watch movies with you.”

“Hey–I didn’t say tolerating! I said he was a good friend. Good friends enjoy the company of other people.”

“Nah, nah… I’ve played the love game for so long. He’s in love with you. I know it, I know it.”

“Whatever suits you.”

I never bothered to ask Yuki about why he wanted to go to my apartment and what he wanted to say in the first place. He probably meant to give some biscuits and some parting gifts. But it probably expired, and he was too embarrassed to send in anything. Or so I believed. My aunt told me he was probably going to profess his love, but I don’t think that was the case. It would be uncharacteristic of him.

We still keep in touch. But I’m not much of a social media person, so I’m much less enthusiastic. I know it’s still him talking, but I would rather see him behind the screen, speaking to me. I want to see his lips move, and oh, see his infinite smile. I want to reach his head and ruffle his silly hair, as much as I used to make fun of it for looking so burnt.

He was around the area now and then, which could have been an opportunity for him to visit, but somehow, we never got the chance. He could probably be in the area right now for all we know, walking right under my very nose. I’ll find out sooner or later on Instagram.

Now, here I am, sitting by the window, eating a bowl of near-expired yogurt. It’s past one in the afternoon on a weekend, so I’m taking in my time watching the people pass by. When you’re lonely and boyfriend-less (Or, as my aunt likes to say, “Yuki-less”), you resort to doing ridiculous things such as this. Though I could have visited the cinema around this time, I decided to go against it–I am reminded too much of our time together.

Then there’s a knock on the door. Another. Afterwards, it becomes faster and faster, until I lazily stand up and open the door.

“There’s a doorbell—”

Yuki appears before me, with his hands ready to knock on the door once more. My eyes widen as much as his–which is funny because he should be expecting me by the door–and our cheeks redden. There’s a beat before either of us gets to talk.

“–You know…” I trail off.

“Hello,” he greets me.

“Hi. What brings you here?”

“I just wanted to see you.”

No other particular reason?

“Well, it’s nice seeing you again, Yuki. Come on in,” I sigh. I lead him to the dining set, where we both sit across from each other.

“Before I say anything, I wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For saying that I wanted to visit you one last time and not visiting you anyway.”

I raise my eyebrows, stretching my arms. I look at my surroundings before I could really look into his eyes, “I have no problem with that. I know you’re busy–”

“I wasn’t busy–”

“You don’t have to lie–”

“I didn’t visit because I was afraid.”

Beat.

“Yuki… I know humans hate goodbyes. It’s only natural.”

“No, you don’t understand–let me explain. I wanted to come to your apartment before I left because I wanted to tell you what I felt.”

“About what?”

“About you. I–I–”

He lightly combs his messy hair. He looks around the apartment as if to look for something that could calm him down. Then he looks at me, before avoiding my face altogether. He takes in a deep breath… one… two… three… before he continues talking:

“I liked you–no, don’t interrupt me–I like you. Before we met, uhhh I passed by you when I was unpacking my things. Your voice was so loud that I could hear everything. But the way you said it… interested me. And I like people who talk a lot. But I couldn’t find a way to… talk to you…” He pauses, everything becoming a calculation to him, before continuing, “…And I didn’t mean our first meeting to go like that. But when I was running away, and I saw you, I had this… feeling… this… what do you call it… instinct… to pull you with me.”

He then tells me, “The reason why I didn’t want to talk to you after so many months was because I thought you were angry at me. Your responses are much shorter than how you spoke in real life. And I thought I messed up.”

He takes in a sharp breath, “I remember everything since when we first met. The days when you would tie your hair… and the days you do not. The outfits that you wore. But what I remember the most was the things you would tell me. It would be hard for me to not like someone whose eyes would go big and their hands would move around every time they talk about something that they loved. You’re just… full of… love.”

I did not know he was capable of doing this, nor was he withholding such emotions for so long.

I stood up and sat beside him. Months had passed when I had overcome the fear of looking into his eyes, but I fear that it’s all returned. I cannot look at him.

I say to him, with my head down, “Thank you for telling me all that.”

“Is that…”

“...I… feel just about the same way too.”

“You do?”

“Of course–do you not believe me? I haven’t gone to the cinema that much since you’ve left. And to think I’ve gone to the cinema for nearly every week of my entire life before you came along.”

“You like me? Why?”

I laugh at him and pinch his cheeks. “Do I need a reason to like you? I like you for who you are. And I’m sure you know who you are. Every bit of yourself–I admire it.”

He looks at me, and he nods at every word. He looks to the side as if to process everything, and then he looks at me again. He wants to say something, a syllable coming out of his lips, but nothing keeps coming out. He sighs over and over, before looking at me straight into my eyes.

So when his voice fails himself, all that is left is the language of touch. He puts his arms out first and reaches out to me. Slowly… inch by inch… Then an embrace. He covers my body with his large hands, as the words he wanted to put out are finally clear to me: the roughness of his hands translates to the command of his voice, the pressing of his fingers the depth of his words, and the more his skin is stuck with the rest of me, the more I could identify the unspoken sentences.

He breaks our hug to take a good look at me, capturing a photo only his memory can take, each shot separated by the blinking of his desperate eyes. Then he kisses me. 

To say “I admire you” too platonic, “I love you” too strong. The best I can do was to look into his eyes. To look into the eye of another was to become vulnerable, but to look into his eyes was a moment of submission and power in a gentleness I could not feel from any other person but him. He sees me, I see him—to the both of us, these meant more. He pats my hair to an unfamiliar beat. Immediately after, he places his hand on my forehead horizontally and slowly slides it down, closing my eyes. He kisses my left eyelid then my right. 

“Did you take some inspiration from Amélie?” I ask him.

“I was starting to like more romantic movies because I could learn a bit from them,” he laughs.

“Aren’t you an adorable idiot.”

“It took both of us a year to say what we wanted to say. I think it’s something we should work on–we’re both idiots, after all.”

We both laugh as we look out into the window.

The snow had already fallen, spreading out on the streets like fallen flowers. They’ve melted as they always eventually did. Winter has come and gone. Now comes spring, and our story begins to bloom with it.

[gluion]

persist and resist (but still, fail) ➵ sung hanbin

sung hanbin x reader

all it takes is one phone call for you to realize what you could’ve had with hanbin

genre/warnings ➵ angst, almost lovers, long-distance but not-in-a-relationship, unspoken words/hidden signals, a lot of wondering of what could’ve been

word count ➵ 728 words

inspired by ➵ “the 1” by taylor swift, that one skype call in “past lives”

a/n ➵ this drabble is very reminiscent of an upcoming fic i have which will a hanbin version entitled “finger trapped (ripped to its seams)” but its taking a bit to pump out (and i’m very much in my feelings as we speak…) so bear with me and enjoy this drabble for now :33 IT’S OUT THOUGH IF YOU WANNA READ IT! do reblog and leave feedback!!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

it’s quiet uptown. as you smell the winter air, frozen kisses graze your cheeks. sounds of cars have been replaced with the buzzing of lamposts and flakes have taken raindrops’ role. on the snow-piled balcony, you hear the wood crackle behind you.

yet, warmth is stored in the voice on the other line.

“so, what’s it like there?” the rasp that accompanies hanbin’s words remind you of the time zone difference between you two. while it may be crack of dawn in korea, night has fallen at where you stand.

“you’ve asked that question how many times in this call.” a giggle leaves you. “you’re making me think that you never listen.”

a soft hum leaves him. “you know that’s not true.” your fingers grip on the blanket draped on your shoulders. “what are you up to?”

“damn, not even letting me answer the thousand questions you seem to have for me.”

“sorry,” he chuckles, “just never hear from you.”

for a moment, all you can do is sniffle.

“it’s quiet here. everyone’s off to see their families.” your hand reaches out to rail, writing the characters of his name on the snow, as you bask in the stillness of the town. ��i like it like this.”

“like it like what?”

“when it’s not busy. it’s only during the winter time when you’ll barely hear a horn or chatter.” a smile makes its way to your lips. “kind of like when we’d sneak into school during the summer time.”

heat waves would do their best to tie you down then, draining you of any energy to enjoy the wonders of summer, but you and hanbin were drawn to adventures. while there would be trips to the mart to grab the familiar taste of chocolate popsicles or the playground you’ve bruised your knees at, the school seemed to call on your names. the empty hallways whispered the narratives of students who came before you two—you were certain that yours and hanbin’s story would be told, as well.

“god, i can’t believe we had so much time to waste then,” hanbin admits over the memory. only a hum leaves you. “i miss it.”

a beat passes.

“yeah, me too.” the whisper barely leaves you.

there’s a life in korea that you’ve lost—the quiet exchange of laughter during classes, the smell of fresh kkwabaegi fresh from the fryer, and the nights spent stargazing.

but in the life you have now—in the stillness of your room during midnights, the rush hours of your commute, the conservations you have with the locals—you can’t help but wonder, wonder, wonder. 

would you be in a 9-to-5 job at a corporate workplace or performing at sold-out venues? would you wake up early in the morning to bake or would you sleep in the comfort of your own bed? or would you go back to school and dive into the niche topics you’ve always wanted to explore?

but would you live alone in a different part of korea or travel around the world with him? would you wake up to the smell of freshly-cooked pancakes or microwaved fried rice from the night before? or would he latch to your body that’s reached the highest degrees, or make him soup during flu season? (he’s always had a weak immune system. did that change?) 

there’s a life in korea that you long for—and there’s a person that you’ve lost. if things were only different, maybe you’d have him for many orbits around the sun.

did he ever think of a life you two could’ve had?

“hey, i have to go,” you say.

“oh,” hanbin’s tone is laced with disappointment, “okay.”

for a moment, not a word is exchanged between you two.

“talk soon?” his question takes you by surprise.

you would’ve loved to agree—yes! i’ll make sure to come visit—but you only smile to yourself with held back tears.

“bye, hanbin.”

that was enough of an answer for him. “okay. bye.”

the call drops. the warmth that your phone held has disappeared. while it makes sense to retreat back into your flat, bask in the heat emitting from the fireplace and read the words of sylvia plath, you remain standing on the snow-piled balcony.

it didn’t matter what you two could’ve had. it didn’t matter if he wondered the same things.

but it could’ve been him—that’s all you know.

taglist ➵ @kflixnet @blankjournal

[quixoticprince]

I love your art 🫶✨

What is your favorite TF2 fan film/series and why? :D

Sorry for the late reply! Tumblr mobiles inbox is hidden in the settings so I almost never see or know when I get anything - but I’m always really happy to see messages in there!

I had to think really hard on what I had watched previously. I don’t think I could name just one but most recent thing that popped into my head was Lil Pootis lol - so cute and funny

Magnificent Nine is pretty fun and I had some good laughs watching through it. I think it does… lose itself a bit especially towards the end lol the lore gets more than a bit convoluted for my tastes but I wouldn’t say it detracted too much from my enjoyment of it

One that’s really niche is Medics Mind Melding Madness - there’s only one part so far but I really like how stylistic it is in its limited animation and the way it presents dialogue - and I’m always more than down to explore horror themes in tf2 :^D

Somewhat Real’s channel has Medic gets Teleported to Another Dimension and The Blue Teams Restaurant which I liked, I’ve watched other videos from them but those are the two the stood out to me

The five nights at Freddie’s vs tf2 ones are also gold I absolutely adore those

There’s many other short sfms and animators that I love including many of the saxxy entries from over the years but this reply is getting a little long haha

I’m sure I’ve forgotten other really prominent films that escaped my mind - actually I would love any recs if anyone would like to send any in!

Just… except for Emesis Blue - I’ve watched it twice and it’s just not for me lol I can appreciate some artistry in that film and there are parts that I really like but overall I came away not really enjoying it, sorry!

Thank you very much for the ask! Might have to rewatch a bunch of stuff when I’m off lol

[lyracarvahall]

HeartBeat Sync PART 1

Soulmates Explained

   In this world, there is a chance that you are destined to have a soulmate, or multiple soulmates in rare cases. These bonds are realized by tattoos unique to the bonded pair which in the light had a reflection like oil-slicked water. The tattoos were more of random symbols and patterns that were never duplicated. When the tattoos are first acquired, a sensation coincides with them. Common examples include a random taste or seeing a random flash of light. Some way the senses notify you that your lives are forever changed.

However, there are many who do not have soulmate bonds, or maybe they just simply do not find them. This was the case for Y/N. In her youth she had been so sure that her soulmates had to be out there. After years of hopeful dreams, however, doubt began to creep in. As she now entered her third decade of life, she knew she belonged to those who had to make the dream for themselves.

This is what had made her want to pursue music. It was her soul’s way of crying out what her words could not express. This is where our story begins….

Chapter One: Exposed

The beats thrummed through her headphones, having her subconsciously swaying to her created beats. Music had become her soulmate when life had failed to provide her one. At her age, Y/N just accepted that wasn’t in the cards. Romantic dreams of her youth had turned into angst-powered fuel for the songs she made. After recording a few of the songs and uploading them to the internet, she had drawn a relative amount of attention. Her music’s heavy beats and heartfelt lyrics mixed with obscure instrumentals were not to everyone’s taste however. She had developed a niche following including, unknown to her, a few from overseas.

Y/N chose to use an alias with her uploads as her family had told her many a time she was too old to pursue such things and that she should just settle down and start a family. Her passion for passion and for life showed in every creation and it was her one area of pride, even if very few knew about it. Those few who did included her friend Lexi, who’s feet currently rested on Y/N’s coffee table as she flipped through her social media feeds on her phone.

Y/N just smiled contentedly at her friend’s antics as she stepped up to her microphone and began to sing powerfully into it. Lyrics about longing strung over dance beats. Checking on Lexi again, she saw her friend’s phone camera aimed at her face.

“Lexi, cut the shit! You know I don’t like my sessions recorded.”

Lexi leaned forward and twirled her chocolate hair in one hand while balancing her phone in the other hand. “Well….then good thing this is a live stream instead then, hmm?”

“WHAT?!” Y/N immediately yanked the beanie off her head and threw it with laser precision, knocking the phone out of her best friend’s hand. Dashing over and narrowly beating Lexi to recover the phone, she hit the button to end the live stream.

“What the hell is wrong with you Lexi?! Literally ONE RULE! Keep me anonymous! How long were you recording? How many were watching? I need to brace for impact for the amount of damage you just caused!”

“I know I know! I’m sorry! I just think you need to get out there with your music. You are so talented and you deserve to be performing other places besides your home office, Y/N!”

“Thank you and I love you but I am still mad at you. How….many….Lexi?”

Lexi began to nervously twiddle her fingers together, looked up at Y/N through her eyelashes. “About 3,000?”

“Three thousand people?! Oh my god! It’s over! It’s all over….” Y/N sank to the floor dramatically, slowly sliding down the wall and placing her head in her hands. “What have you done?” Her voice sounded small and pitiful but she didn’t care. Her dreams were ruined. There was no way she continue now that they tied a face to her work. She was a 30 year old curvy girl who currently looked like a bum in sweatpants and a giant anime shirt.

Her family had always overlooked her and never taken her seriously. Her dream “wasn’t a real job” and “arts were a hobby and not a career”. Anytime she explained about it being her outlet and why she needed to release this emotion, they told her soulmates are obviously not meant for her and she needs to get over it. Her sister Riley had been particularly cruel “I mean obviously no one is destined for you. Look at you!” Over time she had gotten over her insecurities. Distance from her family had helped, but occasionally all those emotions came rushing back to her. This was one of those times.

Lexi noticed the panic in Y/N’s eyes and immediately crawled to her side. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I am so sorry. I mean maybe this isn’t a bad thing, you know?”

Y/N simply scoffed at that.

“Seriously, bestie, this could be a huge opportunity for you! I imagine agents will start messaging ASAP. THINK about it!” With almost comedic timing, Lexi’s phone vibrated from where it lay across the room. Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Lexi smirked and quickly ran to grab her phone. Upon looking at the screen, however, she nearly dropped it again due to the shock with what she was reading.

“Y/N…It is a message from Eden.”

“Am I supposed to know who that is?”

“Dum-dum ma-goo goo! Eden is the main producer for ATEEZ? Remember, those dudes you were drooling over their edits from Coachella?”

“Oh! Eden….Eden-ary production team! Shit shit….what did he say?”

“He invited you to ATEEZ’s next show. Says he has a proposition for you.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

I admit this is my first ATEEZ fanfiction and it is more a fun writing exercise than anything else. I hope you enjoy it so far despite that. Sorry this is so short so far! <3

Part 2 Here

[celestie0]

omg ik you’ve been back for a while now but i’ve finally gotten a chance to say how great it is to see you again!! kickoff was the first gojo fic that had me hooked with the storyline, and to think i started reading it back in april 🫢

i know it’s natural for writers to have doubts, but i hope you know how loved your fics are!! i remember you mentioned liking emily henry’s books, and i can totally see the inspiration in terms of having your characters deal with real struggles that allow readers to relate or understand them. as fun as relationship development is, character development is what really gets me hooked, and let me tell you: whenever i see the mc in ihm struggling my heart HURTS. i was tearing up when she was visiting her mother at the hospice omg that shit broke my heart and threw it in a dumpster fire wtf. and even though i haven’t gone through anything similar, seeing her mother forget things about her own daughter and asking gojo to take care of her was too much for me to handle :’((( that is definitely one of my fav chapters. OH and i’m dying to know the drama between gojo and his ex-wife i hope it’s messy 😈

and in regards to your smut: girl you are one of the the very few jjk fic authors whose smut writing i find actually enjoyable. i was so surprised when you felt so unsure while writing those types of scenes bc??? you are so fucking good at them??? imo it’s much more tasteful than most of what i see on this app lol. i find that with most fics i kind of skim through those parts and only enjoy some aspects, but yours??? girl i’m reading ever line while blushing and running laps around my room every two minutes LOL

anyways, great to see you’re back! and i hope med school is going good!! gotta go back to studying for my own exams 🫠 take care queen!! <3

hi love i’m soooo very sorry i’m late in answering this but thank you so much!!

aww your words are so sweet to me ty :”) and yes i adore emily henry’s books so much!! i too value character development over all else. even if the plot is objectively a little boring or in the case of romance books even if there isn’t that much smut or something i still really value the narrative if the characters make me FEEL something yknow?? i need to have an unhealthy attachment to them BAHAHAH. but anyways i’m so glad you feel that way ab my stories bc that’s my goal 😭❤️ yeah awh that chapter was so heartbreaking to write that shit HURTEDDD

AWHH thanks for the sweet words ab the smut :”) i think that’s why i dislike my smut bc it’s kinda at least a little different from what i usually see in jjk fandom but i’m starting to realize different maybe doesn’t mean bad lol? i just am scared i have a niche taste in smut n other ppl are gonna find it weird 😂😂 but you’re sooo kind haha i’ll keep you in mind next time i start to doubt myself

thanks so much bb you’re sooo sweet i could cry <33 good luck to you as well!!

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Some replies! About a certain fox’s career and about bottoms potentially spoiling their tops…

Anonymous asked:

So I’ve seen around Leona x Idia and politely ask you for some (and please don’t make the wholesome) headcannons if your able to

Anon! Unfortunately, I’ll have to politely refuse because we don’t really ship Leona and Idia :(

Anonymous asked:

Honest John should make an Onlyfans. How do you think he would do with that?

Anon’s out there using his legal name 😭 Jk this one also isn’t his legal name…

I think he has a lot of potential! There would be a learning curve because he properly doesn’t know how to use technology super well, but he knows how porn and pinups work, so… Even though his taste is a bit old-fashioned… I think that would make him fit into a very specific niche 🤔

And if it works, that would make him euphoric – imagine earning money like that without really risking it?? People who have money to spend really are naïve saps! He would laugh at them as if he is not genuinely enjoying himself for the first time in forever lol

Realistically, his biggest issue is that he absolutely doesn’t have a credit card to receive payments, and he doesn’t have a proper ID, but with the right kinds of friends that’s probably easy to fix!

Anonymous asked:

bless you for the rookvil love the art its so wonderful!! <3 and the rookvil girlies on your priv X aaa <3333 Rook in lingerie is such a treat!! i remember you said she doesn't like to be touched and i was wondering if there's a specific reason you say why? is it just rook girlie or all the top girlies? omg do any of the bottoms return the pleasure for their tops or spoil them back? ok ill stop buT I DO LOVE THE ART MUAH love it. ty for the food! <3

Anonymous asked:

wait do the boys also spoil their tops... oKA y im done im donne lmao im sorry ! stay hydrated have a wonderful day/night

Thank you, Anon! <3 I’m happy you love them, both the ones we posted a couple of days ago and the girlies! Rook in lingerie is indeed a treat and a special rare occasion for Vil only…

As for Rook not liking to be touched, (ignoring my bias that I’m going to address in a minute) it’s more of a Rook thing: she prefers to do “the hunting” and pinning someone down completely is like her instinct. If asked though, she would just say that it would get her too aroused and her heart wouldn’t be able to handle it. Maybe there is some truth to that statement, but… Vil is absolutely allowed to touch her much more than anyone else would, and she mostly does it when she wants to see Rook worked up and agitated. Vil says that it’s like teasing a feral dog that likes the pets but also doesn’t.

As for the rest of the ladies, I kind of talked about this here in the last reply. We are biased towards bottom!girlies receiving all the attention, and this for sure affects how we see top!girlies’ preferences lol But I think not all of them are as much of touch-me-nots as Rook: Rook isn’t even the worst one out of them. Azul is one of the biggest ones; she hates being touched unless she is the one demanding that, and sometimes it gets ridiculous with her. But Ace, Jack or Kalim are not as bad, and Floyd flip-flops as usual. But none of them would let the bottom!girls take the lead completely.

So yeah, while technically all the bottom!girlies could still pleasure their tops, this just isn’t the dynamic we usually gravitate towards, like I explained in the linked post. It all depends on context, I guess. I think they would do a different kind of spoiling, like teasing, dressing up a certain way, allowing something that wasn’t previously allowed, all that stuff.

With the boys it’s easier though! I can see pretty much all of the bottoms being willing to give their tops a blowjob or a handjob depending on a situation, some are more willing than others though~

The ones that are the most likely to do it are Vil (big fan of rewarding with a bj), Silver (he is such a good boy), Epel (he is eager to please and to prove himself!!) and Deuce (he acts first and thinks after, and sometimes it puts him on his knees because he feels too much love towards his top and wants to express it).

[silantryoo]

BONUS [ RP STONT ] — iz*one’s ahn yujin?

y/n and yujin’s first hangout

WARNINGS ; mentions of overworking, death threats, misogyny

y/n sat quietly as yujin stared at her, wondering what to say to the girl. the hybe idol had just arrived when the news had dropped, leaving the awkward situation much more awkward than it already was.

even though yujin didn’t know the girl well, she felt bed.

“are you okay?” yujin asked, the wind blowing her hair as the two stood against the edge of the railing on starship’s rooftop hangout.

y/n’s eyes moved to scan the city of seoul. she wondered how people could hate her so much for something that they knew nothing about. did people just naturally hate her? was it in her blood?

y/n hated being a kim sometimes.

“i feel like shit.” y/n said honestly, she looked over to yujin with her eyes glazed over. “but yeah, i’m okay.”

yujin looked her up and down. chaewon had mentioned to her that y/n was going to get like this, but yujin had dealt with enough drama in IVE to be comfortable enough to push.

“are you sure?”

y/n stared at her, immediately knowing the worried gaze of a leader.

“if you ask me again, i’ll break down.” y/n winced, realizing that it might have been a bit too hostile.

yujin wasn’t fazed. she understood how hard the situation was. she was couldn’t imagine how tiring it must be to be the scapegoat of the group. the public was brutal, especially when it came to girls who naturally attracted people towards them.

she was just surprised that the public was more repulsed by y/n herself than by the thought of two girls dating. their country may have progressed, but they still hated women.

“i’m sorry. i’m just embarrassed.” y/n apologized. she shook her head as she looked at the business below. “i can’t believe i’m breaking down in front of my bias.”

yujin felt herself blushing, not expecting the girl to be so forward. she covered her mouth, her smile making her eyes squint into a moon shape. “i’m your bias?”

y/n nodded, not sure what the big deal was. “in iz*one, yeah.”

yujin’s face dropped. “not in IVE?”

y/n shook her head almost automatically, hiding a smile as she watched yujin’s face. it was always fun to tease leaders. they usually had the most extreme reactions.

maybe that’s why y/n loved teasing minji so much.

“you have no taste.” yujin rolled her eyes, a playful smile covering her face.

chaewon was right about how the two of you would get along. it was nice to finally have a friend around her age that wasn’t insanely busy all the time (read: shin yuna).

y/n scoffed, leaning back. “you’re just bitter.”

“you’re just blind.”

y/n chuckled, IVE’s leader joining soon after. it was one of the very rare times that the two felt like they weren’t hanging out to make connections, something extremely common in the industry.

yujin finally had someone who she felt like she could talk to about things aside from work, and she knew that y/n felt the same, even if the two of you had more friends than just each other.

the two girls fell silent, once again watching the busy streets of korea.

y/n couldn’t help but start to worry. the media had a horrible way of twisting her into the villian, even back when she was a trainee. she couldn’t imagine minji going through something similar.

it made her angry, and made her fearful for the younger girl. she would never say it out loud, but she would gladly take the hit for minji if it meant that she got to live in a world that wasn’t like hers.

y/n just wanted minji to be okay.

yujin looked over to y/n, noticing that the girl was starting to overthink. she knew that face, yujin saw it in the mirror every time she looked.

“we can talk about something to take your mind off of it.” yujin hummed, y/n’s eyes snapping to the taller girl’s.

yujin sent her a smile, waiting for her to speak.

y/n blushed, not realizing that she had been that noticeable. she nodded, thinking of something to talk about. “i found this 7/11 that sells really niche american snacks.”

“wait what?” yujin stood up straight. her members would’ve loved to go there. “where?”

“i don’t remember.” y/n shrugged, a small grin appearing on her face. “i was with minji and we just ran around until we found something good.”

yujin nodded, squinting slightly as she observed how the shorter girl had started blushing.

“she almost got ran over on our date actually.” y/n reminised, looking back down at the street below.

minji had been in such a big rush, realizing that it was way past midnight and she was definitely going to get scolded by her manager in the morning.

“wait…” yujin’s eyes went wide. “you guys are actually dating?”

“no, like friend date.” y/n laughed, a small pang going through her chest. weird. “minji wouldn’t date me.”

yujin nodded, not believing the girl. “but you would date her?”

“if i liked her, yeah.” y/n shrugged, not sure why yujin was asking such random questions. “she deserves someone who’s good to her.”

yujin hummed. she felt like y/n was hiding something, and yujin knew she was nosey. y/n was her new friend, so pushing a little wouldn’t hurt.

“who would you want her to date?” yujin asked.

y/n thought a little, not sure why the question bugged her so much. “someone who she can have fun around.”

“oh,” yujin smirked, looking at y/n’s oblivious face. “like going on 7/11 dates?”

“yeah!” y/n agreed almost immediately. she turned to look to yujin, wondering if she was hinting at something. “are you dating anyone?”

yujin stopped herself from laughing. “i’m too busy being the leader here.”

y/n scoffed, hearing that excuse before. “you sound like chaewon-unnie.”

yujin gasped, hating the fact that she had been compared to le sserafim’s leader. she was nothing like that.

“chaewon-unnie’s blind.” yujin complained, ignoring y/n’s loud laughing. “she can’t even tell that minju-unnie has been waiting for her to ask her out. i’m surprised she even pulled.”

y/n laughed harder, momentarily forgetting about the entire problem of the night. “sounds like you’re projecting.”

“i can’t pull because everyone thinks i’m dating wonyoung.” yujin whined. she loved wonyoung but not like that. “wonyoung’s not even my type—”

“wonyoung’s not your type?!” y/n shouted, immediately wincing after she realized how loud she had been. “she’s everyone’s type?”

“not mine.” yujin sighed, smiling as she thought of her type. “i like people who can make me laugh without meaning to.”

yujin bit her tongue. she liked funny people, someone who didn’t care about cameras, but who was just themselves. she liked that type of funny.

“minji’s like that.” y/n smiled before glaring at yujin. “you can’t date her though.”

yujin sighed, shaking her head. “i know.”

“i’m serious.”

“i. know.”

masterlist | next

taglist (CLOSED)!!

@fav9yu @gojosrug @lizseos @captivq @invusblog @writingficsblog @wonyoluvr @limbforalimb @lethalvenus @archerheejin @bibrinastan @ahnneyong @theeyoon @phamminji @chaersly @misumiausworld @afiaaaa19 @yumtooki @oshyci @txtbrainrot @falling-intoo-deep @0310lvr @yizhoutv @rinpopz @serenitygrace24 @noiacha @marimo-anura @sserajeans @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @rd0265667 @li0ilthecxnt @dmndtears @rosiehrs @yeridaenggi @spritin @cecedrake2217 @meltingbluess @jeonsy98 @haerinstolemyhrt @ssambf @awkwardtoafault @babycubchae @perfectsunlight @forever-in-the-sky2

[concreteburialplot]

pretty sure you’re my fellow chase atlantic girlie that i’ve seen posted on my feed but if something chase atlantic x bad omens ever happened i. would. lose. my. mind. like i’m fully aware that noah would have fun posting things just because he likes to create chaos but someone on the bo tiktok account reposted cas’s video and it doesn’t mean anything but like,,, chase atlantic and bad omens are my bread and butter. and i mean they’re aware of each other just saying 🤠

and i’m sure if there ever was a collab someone somewhere would have smth negative to say but they could stfu because those are my angels. LIKE I’M SORRY can you imagine a chase atlantic feature on a song like bad decisions????

i need it. (at the same time i’m not ready for it)

YES! I AM HER! i am your fellow chase / omens girlie lmao

(just seeing their logos side by side like that makes me feel dizzy & makes my heart explode)

i actually hadn’t heard anything about the repost so thank you for bringing it to my attention! i just about lost my mind 🥲 my fav boys interacting ? 😭 my heart 😩 they are also my babies so get it 100% 🥺

(you didn’t ask for this but i’m offering it anyway 🥲)

so, couple things that come into play here that i think are interesting

warning: beyond this point will contain lengthy unnecessary, unasked for, unwarranted & disorganized reaching, theories, wishful delusional thinking & dissection. i am a swiftie at heart so it’s a reflex to look too much into cryptic behavior lol

+ rambling bc i’m a gemini who loves chase atlantic & rarely gets to talk about them to anyone so 🥲💔

i’m also aware that omens x chase fans are very niche & nobody actually cares what i have to say about this topic but whatever 🥲💔 i just need to get this out 🥲

1 - i have known for a while that at least noah knows about / is a fan of chase atlantic. i believe he liked a tweet about them a while ago, when chase was doing a livestream i think? & he’s posted about them before, example here:

whether or not chase knows about bad omens i’m not sure but they probably do now at least

2 - Omens & Chase are under the same management company! They’re both under MDDN, so they’re at least in the same circles

3 - as much as i’d KILLLLL to hear chase feature on bad decisions i unfortunately don’t think noah would be down for it (i think he’s stated before he’s not open to features on bad omens’ discography ?? but i could be mistaken) - so the more likely scenario in the realm of (unrealistic) features would be noah featuring on a chase song

4 - the Bad Omens official tiktok account has only reposted 6 videos total, besides cas’ & the other 5 were specifically about the band - with how they handle their social media i find it interesting that they’d do that

also

obviously Kras is in CA so them reposting it isn’t out of the ordinary BUT both band accounts reposted the same day (even tho the video itself was posted 6 days ago, they both reposted the next day) - again just interesting

5 - the audio on the tiktok was mamacita so that begs the question that if there WERE to be a collab … would it be noah featuring on mamacita …………. bc the thought of that …. makes my head spin 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 (we also been knew that noah’s music taste is vast, so him being interested in / open to featuring on a different genre track, especially of a band he likes, isn’t THAT crazy to imagine)

6 - however the caption cas’ tiktok was something like “christian said that if you use this filter he’ll show you his verse on mamacita” so that could mean a couple things IF a collab is being teased

a - it’s not actually kras’ verse it’s noah’s

b - kras’ verse could be first & noah’s 2nd (😵‍💫)

c - they’re hinting at a feature on another song on chase’s upcoming album

d - there is no collab & i’m a clown for believing that there could be (it’s this one)

7 - we know chase is open to having features from different genres & are pretty lax about who they work with (& lax in general)

8 - i’m unsure how well the collab would be received - i think noah featuring on chase would go over significantly better than the other way around but still idk - chase’ fanbase seems a lot more chill than omens

REGARDLESS i fear for chase if they collab bc [a lot of] bad omens fans are mean, judgy & ruthless especially about artists outside of metal/metalcore. chase’s fandom is fairly chill (in my experience) & unfortunately i honestly think any interaction with bad omens would bring a lot of unnecessary drama & hate to them :///// and i can smell the “bad omens is selling out” accusations from here

9 - again i think the repost was really interesting & unusual for their normal social media activity/strategy & so the fact that it’s so out of the ordinary + subtle + sneaky ON TOP OF ALLL of those other factors ^ has got me extremely intrigued

10 - that all being said ……. unfortunately as you touched on, Noah is a troll at heart, so he could very well just be causing mischief - for what reason, nobody knows - also choosing that tiktok was so random ?? so ?? [especially since it was cas’ tiktok, not chase or even their members??]

i’m interested to see if there’s any other sneaky interactions between them moving forward - noah loves taylor swift so he may be taking a page or 2 from her book & starting to get more cryptic as their fanbase expands ?? lol

seeing kras on the same page of an omens official account really made me feel crazy. that is something i never ever thought i’d see, thought i was hallucinating lol (i love them so much 🥹)

i am slightly hopeful but also ready to be disappointed lol

am i a fool for underestimating noah sebastian’s troll behavior? probably

has he trolled me before? yes

will i have too much faith in him to not troll me again after this? yeah :/

regardless,

anyway sorry this is ridiculously long for no reason & nobody actually cares about my insane hypothesizing 🥲 if anyone got this far, you’re a trooper & i’m giving you a star

i was just really really really excited about this bc i love them both so much & nobody else cares & it made me really sad but it’s fine 🥲🥲💔💔

[sugarcryztal]

Hey! I really like this account and the stuff you have been doing. May I have a SFW romantic CRK, MHA, or Mystic Messenger matchup?

I go by He/Him pronouns and I am gay (MLM). 1 am 5'5" and chubby. I have my hair cut short and plan on dying it soon. I often wear piercings, using only ear piercings. I often wear nice button ups with sweater vests or just horror movie shirts.

I would describe myself as introverted, but not necessarily shy. I am a very blunt person, which has caused some people to like me while others don’t. Though I just prefer to relax alone. I am overly cautious with myself and the people I love due to conditions I have lived with. So, I accidentally come off as too paranoid. I am intelligent and often love literature and media because of it. I am very much an artistic but also a writer.

I like spicy food, world building, fantasy stories, sci-fi settings, coffee, cats, supernatural stuff, RPGs, niche RPGs, TTRPGs (not just d&d), vintage wear, good cooking, taxidermy, rocks, horror movies, horror books, card games, niche history, niche internet cartoons, old rock music, metal music, unique art, stop motion, and anime.

I dislike overly sweet foods, the "I ain't reading all of that" or "it ain't that deep" type of person. anybody who thinks cartoons and/or horror have any real substance to them, minimalism, most romance movies, toxic positivity, and people who chew with their mouths open.

My hobbies are media dissection, writing, playing TTRPGs (both as a player and a GM/DM), drawing, playing video games, making them too, binge watching horror movies, and collecting vintage items.

I’m just going to do Mystic Messenger so if you want another fandom you can just resubmit with a different fandom you want!

I’m going to match you with . . .

Yoosung !

- okay I don’t like Yoosung that much but I am going to TRY MY BEST!

- When he first met you he was probably lowkey intimidated because of how blunt you can be and he’s a very sensitive guy.

- But he was determined to be your friend because you looked like you needed some! (not in a bad way)

- A while after being friends, he’s stuck to you like glue!

- He grows to admire how intelligent you are especially when it comes to media dissection! Because that’s a rare breed now.

- HATESSS toxic positivity! But that’s just because he likes giving genuine and straightforward compliments! Especially if it’s for a special cool person such as yourself!

- In his pining stage he probably starts to steal certain articles of your clothing when you aren’t looking. Most likely one of your sweater vests.

- Also becomes a lot more touchy, while making sure you’re comfortable of course!

- But when I say a lot I mean a LOT! Like at every greeting and farewell he hugs you and when you guys are walking together he wraps an arm around yours as he claims it’s so “he doesn’t get lost”, but I think we all know the real reason.

- When ur in a relationship:

- I’m sorry when I say this… But he probably chews with his mouth open because he’s trying to talk and eat at the same time. You’re going to have to be the one to tell him to swallow his food before he talks. 😭

- On another note, COFFEE DATES ARE A MUST!

- He doesn’t really like coffee though because of its bitter taste, so he orders hot chocolate instead thinking you don’t notice and spoiler alert, you do. 😭

- HE WOULD NEVVVVEEERRRR say “I ain’t readin allat” or anything like that because he is your #1 simp bruh. He IS readin allat!

- Takes your feelings seriously to because again he’s a very sensitive guy. So you will never hear him invalidate your feelings because why tf would he?! You are entitled to feel whatever you want!

- Also likes playing games with you. I don’t know what they’re called, but you know those meetings or cons where they all gather to play? Yeah he goes with you to those.

- He never knows what’s going on though, poor Yoosung 😭

- Confused, but happily cheering you on because you’re amazing!

- Boundaries with him are also important, keep in mind he’s mentally ill and will probably cling to you a lot more. So you will have to ask for space when you need it because he doesn’t get subtle hints.

Yoosung whines. A lot.

You were trying to get out of bed to start getting ready for a meet up with game friends, but he wouldn’t have it!

“Don’t goooo!” Yoosung whined. He was upset because you couldn’t take him with you this time. So to prevent you from leaving, he had his arms wrapped tight around your waist. You didn’t listen, standing up from the bed and kissing his forehead softly. But he wasn’t giving up!

He stayed with you through that whole morning, trying to constantly put his hands on you, but you would always swat them away when you were doing something!

Eventually you were preparing to leave and he was at his wits end. He tested out one last trick.

That’s how you found yourself passionately kissing your boyfriend, he was not giving you any room to even speak. It was kiss after kiss. You gently nudged him away with your arms and he whined loudly, immediately going back in for another kiss. Soo… Now you had to cancel your plans.

sorry it was short!

08.22.24

[undercover-monsterlover]

Heyyy ! your match ups are like crazy good. i was hoping i could get one. please and thank you in advance xoxo can i please get a match up for JJBA(any part is good) with a nsfw section :P i’m a girl but i use whatever pronouns, mainly she/her though. hope its cool that i get paired with an adult man

if I’m being honest i’m kind of an asshole, it’s my humor a little bit. i'm lowkey stupid too but i think that being a dickhead is funny, like mocking someone/making someone look like an asshole for the lols also just kind of being straight up mean, a lot of “i’m gonna hurt u”’s.. sorry kicks dirt sadly. despite my humor being bas I can be really affectionate and sweet, i love my friends, duh. one of my favorite ways to be affectionate is gift giving, i love spoiling people. i talk a whole lot, if you let me I’ll happily talk your ear off. i’m usually really laid back but i have a few tics, like if im talking i’ll fidget a lot, one of i noticed is that i brush the bridge of my nose if i'm feeling awkward. its super stupid i don’t get it. anyways. i’d looove to be a stereotypical girly girl but my hobbies are painfully nerdy; playing niche video games(fear and hunger on top), collecting merch from my interests. i love taking naps and sleeping too, it’s probably not considered a hobby but ughh i love it. i love drawing/doodling too.

for preferences in a partner. idk as long as i can be annoyingly affectionate and call them super embarrassing nicknames like boo boo kitty or babayy, part of it is purely to embarrass them and the other part is me just being affectionate in my own way, my affection is kind of suffocating. also i need a partner who would pamper me lol, i like pampering people too i'm not selfish or anything. i don’t think i’d be able to be with someone who is always so loud or self deprecating. i'd end up soo annoyed. i also kind of really like people who lean into darker styles, though its not a necessity.

i’m an average height but a little on the pudgier side. i don’t have any “aesthetic” but i do lean into darker styles, a lot of black, piercings, dyed black hair blah blah.. i like being simple and stylish. i have glasses that i mess with far too much, uhmm my lips are kind of naturally pouty blah blah blah

Alright, I'd match you with...

Rubber Soul

This might be deep cut, but I really considered so many people before I landed on Rubber Soul. You have a very unique personality, so thinking of someone who really meshed well with you was difficult. I considered giving you someone with a very modest and toned down personality, to compliment your boldness, but I decided that someone similar to you who you might have a bit of conflict with first, and then relate to, would be a better fit for you. So, Rubber Soul.

Initially I believe you would just get under his skin more than anything. He's not used to getting a taste of his own medicine, so you really effortlessly piss him off, and he reacts accordingly. But that of course just spurrs you on further, pissing him off even more. He is a pretty easy guy to make fun of, you have plenty of ammo. He tries to get you back, but unfortunately that trading of mockery and banter is exactly your sense of humour, so you just think he's playing along and find it funny. I think once he realizes this, that's when he'd start to like you a bit more. He really does have the same sense of humour as you. Just perhaps in a more intense and violent way, so make sure you work on that. Eventually it sort of becomes a competition of who can get the other red in the face and wheezing fastest, and he often wins.

He really is just kind of a dick, so the two of you can piss off people together. How cute! The two of you teaming up to fuck with someone brings him immense joy, and I think that might be when he starts to realize he likes you. Rubber Soul is definitely not a suave man, so I think his confession would come suddenly, bluntly, and with very little pomp and circumstance. If you reciprocate, there's also not really a "warming up" period, he's immediately very attached to you, wants to spend all his time with you, kind of smothering in a way. He also has a tendency to try and show you off, he likes being seen with you, and he's insufferable about it.

Your relationship would have a lot of humour and laughter obviously, and though most of it is mean-spirited, it's not usually directed towards eachother anymore. He was very pleased to see that you have that very affectionate side to you as well, and he eats up any attention or compliments you give him, only to become even more conceited and egotistical. You're concerned at times you're creating a monster, but whatever. You certainly won't have to worry about him being annoyingly self-deprecating or asking you if you really love him when you've shown it time and time again.

You don't usually get that same kind of affection from him. Not that he isn't affectionate, he just isn't as likely to show it in words. Except around your family and friends, at which time he will use even worse pet names than you do, in front of them, just to fuck with you. His love language is more acts of service, than words of affirmation, or gift-giving. He does like to pamper you, but he's not exactly well off financially, so that usually comes in the form of massages, cooking you food, sex, and spending a lot of time with you.

When he does get some cash however, he will spend a lot of it on you, but not quite in the way you'd like. The things he gets are really more for him than they are for you, indulgent things he can pass off as gifts, but really just meant to be a a treat for him. Like, clothes he wants to see you in, perfume he likes, things like that. But hey, in this case it's the gift that counts, and not the intention, and you usually like them too anyways, he does try to at least choose things that match your darker aesthetic. But just, y'know, very skimpy.

One good thing about this man is that he gives you plenty of freedom. He's just excited he has a girlfriend at all, he doesn't really expect anything specific from you, he has no pre-concieved notions of what you should be like. You want to be emo and dark one day? Great. Super feminine and girly the next? Doesn't matter to him. You want to stay home playing video games and eating snacks all day? He'll grab the blankets and relax with you the whole time.

NSFW

With Rubber Soul there will always be plenty of diversity in your sex life. The man can change his appearence, features and clothing at will, and he will put that to use whenever you want. Sexual roleplay is not new to him, I'm sure this loser has watched plenty of shitty porn, and he has a million ideas and scenarios to try with you now. There's always something new he wants to try out, wether it's a toy, a position, a scenario, whatever.

He is very vocal, and very talkative during sex. He doesn't hold back his moans and doesn't want you to do so either, he likes hearing you. There's pretty much always a constant stream of vulgarity and and praise from him no matter what, he really doesn't shut up, so let's hope that's what you're into. I'd say he's also a bit of a switch? He's pretty much willing to fill whatever role you want him to, and does it eagerly. He's just very adamant that you never tell anyone that he sometimes takes a submissive role, he's thinks it's embarrassing. He himself has an issue with "kissing and telling" so if you really don't want anyone else to know what the two of you get up to, tell him, otherwise he sees it as a point of pride to brag about what you're like in bed.

Honourable Mentions

I haven't done this for any other matchup before, but I really did struggle a bit with who to pair you with, so here are a few of the other biggest contenders.

Risotto Nero

- I considered matching you with Risotto when I was thinking on the complimentary, opposites attract framework.

- He's definitely used to dealing with strong personalities, and wouldn't bat an eye at your sense of humour or personality.

- Eventually I decided not to pair you with him because I think you'd get bored of him very quickly.

Esidisi

- I think he would be very entertained by you at least, and charmed by you at best.

- You strike me as a very modern woman, both in personality, style and interests, so I think you could have some fun with that seeing as he's so old.

- I decided not to pair you with him because of the somewhat juvenile aspect to you personality. I imagine he'd be very condescending, even if he did like you, especially since you're also human.

Telence T. D'Arby

- This douche thrives off of pissing people off and getting one over on them, so similarly to Rubber Soul, I think you would have a fun dynamic with him.

- The fact you both like video games would also be a nice connection, but other than that I really didn't have any other real reasons to pair him with you.

[teaveetamer]

I really don't want to be rude and I'm sorry if it appears that way, but why are you still engaging in all FE discourse? It's clearly not making you happy.

There's many cool project to focus on for FE ( there's a Blue Lions fanzine coming up!! ), and even outside of FE, I'm sure there's many games that could be to your taste? Idk if you already played it, but Baldur's Gate 3 has nearly everything cool FE have while being a really good game!

Discourse make us all miserable and we often end up doing things we regret, if not just for the time wasted talking to asshole. I know how it is, I was there before.

Blocking people and tag then moving on sometimes is for the best ( even asshole like Raxis, he might have stalker-ish behavior but the best that can be done is ignoring him ). I was sad to see your profile bc of random discourse, I would love to find you the same way but this time for speaking of something you love.

Anon I’m going to take this in the best possible faith here, and no I’m not assuming you’re being rude

1) I do have a blog which is ENTIRELY dedicated to just talking about things I love. It’s called my main blog, which used to be linked to this one, but I had to remove that link after one of the more deranged members of the fandom chose to follow it and comment pro-genocide stuff on my fun polls about which PNG is the sexiest. I also still write fanfic, livestream, participate in niche-r discord severs, and run several side blogs and accounts for events and tournaments, none of which I advertise heavily here because, again, a subsection of extremely deranged fans of a particular character seem to take it as an invitation to be extremely deranged.

2) I made this side blog explicitly to quarantine fandom negativity from my more positive endeavors, and frankly I have been trying (key word trying) to wind down its usage for years now because, frankly, I have better things to do and I don’t have that much more to say about 3H itself anyway but…

3) I have blocked the losers who are engaging in this kind of behavior. The problem is that they do not respect that block and continue to stalk, harass, and repost the things I say anyway to various social platforms, which has led to death threats made against me (among other things) because they are unwell beyond anything a block button can fix.

And 4) since I am not the only one these people do this kind of thing to, I figure the least I can do is warn people of their deranged behavior by using what little platform I have here.

So anon if you want to see me do something I enjoy, chances are you’ve already seen me doing it even if you didn’t realize it was me. And if you would like to see this blog stop posting, I highly encourage you to call out dangerous fandom behavior such as stalking, death threats, false accusations of pedophilia, harassment, etc. when you see it.

And sorry this took me a few days. I spent most of the week with a nasty sinus infection and I spent all my energy Thursday on going to work and class

[typewriter83]

hey there! this is my first time sending an anon ask, so sorry if it's a bit all over the place. i just wanted to say a huge thank you for your posts and discussions about joellie. they’ve really changed how i see this ship (and forbidden ships in general) and helped me let go of the guilt i felt for enjoying this kind of fiction.

i used to mentally shame others for liking stuff like this, even though i secretly did too. i've been lurking for less than a week and have read a ton of your posts, the shame is totally gone. i've even started writing a fic myself (not joellie, but joel x younger reader) and it’s been super therapeutic.

thank you, truly.

Hi there sweet cub, and welcome. I feel all over this week, so it’s probably the right time for us to talk 😏 maybe together we can form coherent thoughts.

I appreciate you reaching out, and taking the time to watch the discussions here on this page. I try to be open and honest, and welcoming to everyone, but it’s been a long year. I don’t ever expect anyone to fall in love with this ship, it’s an acquired taste and it’s very niche (and taboo) - but hearing that someone can become more tolerant and understanding of the people in the ship, that’s the goal I strive to achieve.

Anyone who’s been around long enough knows that this is an accepting blog and a safe space and the number one rule here is there’s no censorship here. If you want to like or dislike a ship, kink, trope, etc. more power to you. If you want to write and share with the internet or the world, I applaud you for your bravery.

Like or dislike whatever you want, but don’t tell others what they can and cannot like - I’ll truly never understand why this constantly needs to be spelled out.

I’m so glad to read that you’re writing what makes you happy! Trust and believe, Mama Bear is the furthest thing from a therapist, but you’ve made my day by letting me know that you’re enjoying this blog and learning something from our insanity discussions!

Hope you’ll come back around in 2025!

🫶🏻