#I’ve heard so many people say so many different things

[wcnderlnds]

scared of loving you | choi seung-hyun (t.o.p)

・❥・ summary: spending valentines day with your best friend/roommate is the norm but this year ends a little differently ・❥・word count: 1.2k ・❥・warnings: alcohol mention but that's about it ・❥・ authors note: happy valentine's day!! here's some tooth rotting fluff to celebrate <3

Valentine’s Day always seemed to come around so fast. People always seemed so excited for it, always on the search to find someone to spend it with. It was nice in a way that it spurred people to put in the effort but it had never been a day you looked forward to. It wasn’t that you didn’t like – you did but after one bad Valentine’s as a teenager, you never really cared. It was just like any other normal day. One that you would spend at home sat in front of the TV eating as many snacks as you could get your hands on. 

Love was great, amazing even but you had never experienced it properly. It was like you had closed yourself off from it which was ridiculous because you loved love. Or what you knew of it anyway. People told you it could be one of the best and worst things you could ever experience. Having someone that cared for you no matter what? Amazing but putting all your trust in them only to have them break your heart? Not so great. Maybe it was best you hadn’t experienced it because then that way you didn’t have to get hurt. 

The sound of the TV echoed through the walls of the apartment, your feet tucked underneath you as you rested on the couch, some cheesy Hallmark movie playing. If anyone asked, you’d say you liked to laugh at them but the reality was you always seemed to get invested in them. The stories they told (albeit some of the corniest to exist) were cute. Never in a million years would they happen to anyone but it was nice to dream. 

Popping a piece of popcorn into your mouth, a loud yawn was heard from the doorway which could only mean one thing. Seunghyun – your roommate and best friend of the last ten years – had finally woke up. Yesterday had been a busy press day for him so he’d spent most of the day sleeping. You knew better than to wake up a sleeping Seunghyun so you left him to it. Out of the corner of your eye you could see him padding into the room, throwing himself down on the couch next to you. 

“Not got a hot date today?” He asked, reaching over to steal some popcorn from the bowl you were cradling. You slapped his hand away much to his dismay. 

“You ask me that every year and my answer is always no. You know I never do anything today,” you shrugged, watching as he made a move again to grab some popcorn. Giving in, you placed the bowl on the small coffee table in front of you. 

“Yeah, and? One day you are going to have a hot date and I’ll be all alone.” 

“You go find a hot date.” 

“Why do I need to when I’ve got a pyjama princess right here?” He teased, raising his brows at you as he finally popped a piece of popcorn into his mouth.  

It was hard to stop the blush creeping on to your face. Seunghyun always did this. Through the whole time you’d known him, he always flirted with resulting in you blushing each and every time. He was the only person who could ever manage that feat, something he knew and used to his advantage. Your eyes looked down at the pyjama’s you were wearing, shrugging your shoulders. He was the only person you would ever feel comfortable wearing them around. With Seunghyun, you had no worries. There was no fear of him judging you, it was nice to feel like you could be completely yourself. He allowed you the safe space you had always wanted. It was one of the many reasons he was your favourite person to be around. It was also a massive bonus that he was extremely handsome. Maybe even the most handsome person you’d laid eyes on. You had told him so one night when you were drunk and he’d never let you live it down. 

“Wanna order pizza and watch these stupid movies with me?” You asked, smiling over at him. You might not have had a date but you had your best friend. That was all you needed. 

“Guess I can suffer through these stupid movies for you.” 

It was a few hours later, half eaten pizza on the coffee table, an empty bottle of wine on the floor as the two of you sat laughing watching yet another cheesy movie. The wine in the glass you were holding almost spilled out over the edge onto the carpet but you didn’t care. You were having too much of a good time. Seunghyun was sat right beside you, your head on his shoulder as you lazily grinned at the TV screen. His arm was around your shoulder, his fingers twirling a piece of your hair around his finger. It was the first time in a long time you felt content, curled up beside your best friend. 

But, he was more than just a best friend, wasn’t he? 

There had always been a hint of something more, something deeper between you and Seunghyun. There was a reason that for the last ten years the two of you had spent Valentine’s Day together, why you’d much rather be lazing around with him than going out and actually finding someone. There was a reason he made you laugh harder than anyone else, why your stomach would always do flips when he smiled at you. 

It was a terrifying realisation. Was this actually what being in love felt like? If it was, you weren’t sure if you ever wanted it to stop. The feeling of contentment, of feeling so... cared for and appreciated – it was everything. 

Seunghyun’s cheek rested on the top of your head, the domesticity of the moment making your heart pound. As if sensing you were lost in your thoughts, he decided to speak up, his voice softer than normal. “What’s going on in that head of yours, princess?” 

The silly little nickname he often gave you made you feel dizzy, the corners of your mouth twitching up into a silly little smile. Your free hand rested on his thigh, the contact sending Seunghyun into a frenzy much to your obliviousness. “Thinkin’ about how I think I might be in love for the first time.” 

“Oh yeah?” He lifted his head up to look at you, taking your glass and placing it on the table. “Who’s the lucky person?” 

You could hear the hope in his voice, the way his fingers gently brushed against your cheek now. You met his dark eyes, the gentleness of your voice almost taking him back. “I think you already know.” 

There was no hesitation as his hand rested on the back of your neck, leaning down to press his lips against yours in a kiss. All the hidden feelings finally getting their release. Your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer to you as his hand tangled in your hair. It had started off slow, gentle but soon turned passionate. Your head cloudy as the feeling of his lips moved against yours in perfect harmony. It was very reluctantly that he pulled away, his breath heavy as he rested his forehead against yours. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he breathed, barely giving you a chance to reply before his lips were back on yours. 

Maybe Valentines Day wasn’t so bad after all. 

taglist: @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten @justsisse @sherrayyyyy @come-as-you-are-111 @maskedcrawford

[blond3ang3l]

Rich boy! Armin part 2

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“You look really really good tonight. I’m glad that you let me take you out tonight.” Armin's words made your mind practically swirl. After he had texted you just a few hours after dropping you off the two of you made plans again to go to another mitski concert as a do over for the somewhat wonky experience the two of you had on your first meeting.

Armin wanted this to be special since he didn’t get many chances to be with people like you who didn’t treat him weird for being a celebrity. You didn't even know he was famous until you seen his instagram but it was too late to cancel on him. Besides you had fun with him and he seemed genuine, so why not give him a chance?

“I’m glad you decided to come out with me again.” Your words put a smile on Armin's face. The two of you were a particularly more upscale restaurant since you had a few hours to spare before the concert would start. To say he looked good was an understatement.

Long blonde curls pinned back with two cute little blue hello kitty clips, lips all glossed up from his fav Dior lip oil, glittery eyeshadow that matched perfectly with his highlighter. Armin truly had to be the prettiest guy you had ever seen. Coincidentally your outfits weren’t too different. Both of you had sheer black tops of different types and black pants.

“I know you probably know like who I am. I hope that doesn’t make this weird-” Armin cut himself off when he heard a soft chuckle from you “I honestly wasn’t going to bring it up if you didn’t. I mean, I’ve been having fun with you so I didn’t think it was a big deal. didn’t feel like things would change between us whether or not I didn’t know.

Armin’s heart was pounding in his chest as his eyes raised to meet yours.

“You know you kinda have features like a deer. Yours eyes are pretty like one.” His eyes widened before he felt his face get hot at your compliment. “Bambi.” “Huh?” “That’s what I’ll call you now. Bambi.” Armin was silent for a moment before lowering is he’d to hide his shy smile. “I really like that.”…

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1

[strawbearry-writes]

"Missed your muffins,"

a story about amy owning a cute bakery, and sonic coming to visit her often!

tags- fluff! sfw f/m

~~~

Whoosh!

A blue hedgehog was running around town to practice the next time he needed to beat his enemy. Well, that was until he caught a familiar sight through time.

Skkrt!

He stopped at a building with a wooden sign above the doors, saying “The Rose Cafe.” A pretty little bakery with roses painted on the outer walls, which were painted in different shades of red and pink. It was small but people would come often, mostly for the homemade rose matcha latte. One of them, being the blue blur himself. Whenever he’s not busy or bored he goes to the cafe, but he doesn’t usually go just for the homemade goods.

As he opened the door, a little jingle of the bell was heard. It alerted a pink hedgehog with a bob and red headband, behind a counter, who was cleaning it.

“Sonic!”

Amy Rose was the one who opened this store, whenever she wasn’t too busy helping Sonic and the crew, she opened her cafe, and baked delicious pastries. They were family recipes that she wanted to share with everyone. As you would assume the bakery would open on an irregular schedule, but it was usually everyday from 10am-4:00pm. It was currently 3:15 p.m, which isn’t her busiest time, so there were only around 2-3 people here.

She would usually have people help but it seemed that she was alone, or maybe they were baking.

“Hey Ames! How are ya?” Sonic asked as he made his way to the counter. “Hope I’m not distracting you from anything important?”

“Oh, not really. We’re not really busy here anyway.” Amy responded casually while her gaze on the counter she’s cleaning. “I’m just taking a break, meanwhile knuckles and silver are helping me with baking.”

She looked at Sonic slyly, while saying, “Are you actually gonna buy anything this time?” Sonic felt warmth coming to his cheeks, but he still tried to play it cool as he hoped that Amy didn’t notice. “W-well, I, uh-,”

“What would you like to order, Sonic?” Amy said as she looked at the screen of her cash register, interrupting the stuttering hedgehog.

“Well, are you on the menu?”  Sonic thought, but all that came out of his mouth was, “You don’t happen to have those lemon-blueberry muffins do you?” 

Amy’s head shot up. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, “You remember the muffins that I used to give you?”

“Of course! They were like the best things I’ve ever tasted,” Sonic smiled, his eyes slightly squinting closed, his hand scratching the back of his head. “How could I forget?”

Amy looked at the hedgehog as he smiled. His blue quills, shining with the sun’s reflection, his cocky smile turning into a genuine grin. After all they’ve been through, he still remembers, the times where she would walk up to him, basket in hand, smile on her face, saying some type of compliment, which was received with a smile and a “Thanks, Ames” as he sped off to who knows where, doing who knows what. She always thought that he would just forget about them, since at that time he seemed to be busy, she had stopped giving him pastries as often. And with Eggman’s continuous schemes, even less. But that fact that he just remembered…

“Um, Ames?” Amy blinked. She had zoned out. 

“Huh?”

“Um, the muffins?” Sonic asked.

Amy gave a small smile, and said, “Yes, we do have some.”

“Great! Could I get two please?”

“Yup!,” She went under the counter to grab 2 lemon-blueberry muffins, she then put them in a brown paper bag. “5.69, please,”

Sonic paid her before saying, “See you later, Ames!” Then running off to once again who knows where.

…

It was now 4:25 pm, and Ames had closed up shop and was walking home, though there weren't many people at the Cafe today, the visit from Sonic made her ecstatic, though it didn’t seem like it when she was with him. She had learned to control the emotions she showed. However, it doesn’t seem like he knows how to.

As she walked towards her house, she saw a brown bag on her doorstep, the same type as the ones from her store. She picked up the bag, and opened it.

There were jasmine flowers, a pink rose, some strawberries, and a lemon-blueberry muffin. There was also a note, saying,

“Was strolling around the place.

Got some stuff that reminded me of you, thought you’d like it.

I’m free tomorrow and if Eggman doesn’t cause any chaos, 

I was wondering if you wanted to hang out. Let me know if you 

want to. Missed your muffins, they were great as always.”

Catch ya later,

      Sonic 

Amy chuckled as she finished reading the note, red on her cheeks. She then put the note back it the bag, knowing that as soon she got inside, she would leave once more to leave him a note that said,

“Of course!”

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author's note- this is my first ever fanfic that I have written so apologies if kinda cringe, i'll take any tips, but overall i'm pretty happy with the results! also let me know if I made any mistakes, thanks for reading! <3

[darkxsoulzyx]

I do like my username still, and it has a near and dear place in my heart,,,,

But sometimes,,,, sometimes I remember that people have to *pronounce* it and then it falls apart from there LMAOOOOO

[hiiragi7]

Not my usual content, but I made something I wanted to share...

Edit: Now with an ID from @a-captions-blog! Thank you for writing it!

[Art description: A Pokémon-themed comic featuring OP as a Pikachu. Long description follows.

1. The tips of Pikachu’s ears are shown with text that says, ‘I’m a Pikachu / My world is filled with lots of cool stuff. Sometimes it feels like anything is possible!’ Under this is a collage showing a Charizard, a Pidgeotto, a Nidoking, an Eevee, and an Ivysaur, all in the background as the Pikachu looks up in wonder. Text reads, ‘All sorts of types, all sorts of attacks, all sorts of Pokemon.’

2. Text says, ‘But...only two ways a Pikachu’s tail could look.’ Two boxes in the upper corners show the male and female Pikachu tails, respectively. The male has a rectangular end to his tale, and the female has a heart-shaped end to hers. Text continues, ‘So then, what am I?’ A large drawing of the narrator Pikachu is shown, with an arrow pointing to their tail, whose end is split somewhat like scissors and doesn’t match either the male or female drawing above.

3. Text says, ‘Too pointy to be [female], too much of a V-shape to be [male]. I thought there was something wrong with me.’ Under this are three cascading panels showing the Pikachu from below at an angle emphasizing their tail. The second panel shows mel further away, and in the final panel she have disappeared entirely. Text on the panels reads, ‘I felt / very, very, very / alone.’

4. Text says, ‘But then, something happened. I found others like me.’ The art shows the narrator reaching out to another Pikachu. Under this are three other Pikachu. One has a rounded tail, one has a tail that has been stitched up to be rectangular, and one has a tail with a slight spike at the tip.

5. Closeups are shown of each of the tails from the previous panel, with text that says, ‘Round tails, scarred tails, spiky tails.’ Under this is a drawing of the Pikachu all hugging with lightning coming from their cheeks. Text reads, ‘They told me nothing was wrong with me, and I wasn´t alone anymore.’

6. Text says, ‘There are many ways a Pikachu’s tail can look. I’ve heard there’s at least over 30 different variations.’ Under this are two panels. The first panel shows the narrator lying on their back on a background of male and female symbols. Text reads, ‘Some days are still hard.’ In the second panel, the Pikachu with the scarred tail is shown with text that says, ‘My friend tells me her tail used to look just like mine. It was taken from her.’

8. The narrator is shown sitting and looking upwards. Text reads, ‘Some trainers won’t accept Pikachu that aren’t [male] or [female]. They alter our tails without our consent. But things are getting better. We are making change. We’re fighting so that our tails will be left alone.’ Under this is a panel showing the four Pikachu running happily towards the right. Text reads, ‘We’re all on a spectrum. Every tail looks different; anything is possible.’

The final text reads, ‘This is a comic about intersex people.’ The watermark in the lower right says @ PostManic. \End descriptions

[sam-moss]

Heads up, if you presaved the new album on Spotify it *might* add LMB to your Liked Songs. Make sure to Hide it and all of the versions to both prevent that from happening AND to prevent you from streaming it on accident!

please I want to buy the album without supporting the zionists😭😭

(i fear this because the accordian ver has lose my breath concept pics)

[sossolei]

things I learned after shifting to Hogwarts ‧₊ ᵎᵎ⋅ ˚ △⃒⃘

SIDENOTE: hogwarts was not the first reality I shifted to ! this is a uni reality ! there is no war ! ask any questions you want !

.☘︎ ݁˖ BATHROOM. I’ve genuinely never seen anyone talk about this but ( at least in my reality ) there’s a bathroom on the Hogwarts Express and holy fuck??? On the outside it looks tiny asf but I went in there to change into my robes and it’s wayyy bigger than it looks on the outside. It works like the tents in Goblet of Fire basically. The toilets and everything look relatively new so I’m assuming they change it every couple years just to keep in good condition.

.☘︎ ݁˖ MUGGLES. Have you ever wondered exactly how the muggles don’t notice wizardry, or at least at the platform? In my personal experience, unless it’s magic very intentionally and obviously done in front of muggles, there will usually be a moment distraction where they don’t see the magic happening. In the sense of platform nine and three quarters, there’s usually a couple trains that arrive around the same time and blare the horn so everyone usually gets distracted by that. But a personal example of this happens when I was standing in front of the barrier getting ready to cross through the wall, a young child was watching me from afar and as soon as started walking forward, he tripped over the wheel of his mothers luggage and didn’t see me go through the wall.

.☘︎ ݁˖ THE GREAT HALL. The candles are never ending. They don’t drip. They don’t melt in any way. I just had to say that cause I legit stared at them for almost an hour trying to see if it would melt. You have to talk pretty loud to be heard at the front where Dumbledore usually gives his lil speeches, which means the students who sing have lungs for DAYSSSS it’s actually so impressive. The benches are uncomfortable, not unbearable but not recommended for sitting for a long time lol. There’s no menu or anything, the food rlly does just appear there but there’s always something for everybody. Some people even walk up and down the table looking for what they want.

.☘︎ ݁˖ OTHER SCHOOLS. I didn’t stay in this reality for very long but I was always asking questions ( sorry mcgonnagall ). Ilvermorny is currently trying to admit more Native American wizards into their school but Native American wizards (as far as I know) have their own kind of magic and legit do not want anything to do with Ilvermorny. Kind of similar issue in Australia and Aboriginals I’m pretty sure. There’s a lot of, like a fuck ton of wizarding schools in Africa. I know JK Rowling has like one wizarding school in Africa but geographically speaking, that never made sense to begin with and I wasn’t surprised when I found out there were different/smaller wizarding schools around Africa.

.☘︎ ݁˖ STUDENTS. I don’t know how many students are in Hogwarts but I do know that it’s never a surprise who comes to Hogwarts. The ministry genuinely keeps track of every single wizard who has children, and even hold records of wizards who have families without wizarding abilities, just in case someone pops out with it. Easiest way to think of it is that families like Ron’s are always kept track of as well as Hermione’s, so it’s never usually a surprise when someone turns up muggleborn cause they’re usually expecting it.

.☘︎ ݁˖ PROFESSORS. The professors are not as silly goofy as they are in the movies guy :( They’re not miserable or anything but they all just remind me of the standing emoji LMAOOO. But seriously, someone like Mcgonnagall is not as welcoming or “chill” as she is in the movies or towards Harry. But some definitely are more chill, especially the younger ones. Slughorn is my silly king but even he has his moments.

Since this is a uni, Snape isn’t as uh…violent (?) as he is in the movies. Neville is a grown ass man, Snape is def not his biggest fear but Neville in general has a strong urge to prove himself and it reflects in his relationship with Snape. Snape isn’t scary, he just demands lots of respect and has respect for people that have proven they are “worthy” of it, i.e., high marks, put together, confidence, strong willed, etc.

.☘︎ ݁˖ DIVINATION. Did you guys know that being a witch/wizard doesn’t automatically make you good at all forms of divination? I scripted Mattheo Riddle into this reality and me and him are soooo good at other forms of divination like tarot, coffee grounds, and even the the crystal ball, but Theodore Nott fucking sucksss at it. Hermione also didn’t do as well in the class as I know she could’ve done, but according to Treylawney, all forms of divination require open mindedness towards something you can’t understand. Someone like hermione, for example, wants to know everything all the time and doesn’t beat around the bush, so tarot isn’t her cup of tea because she doesn’t think it’s giving her exactly what she wants.

.☘︎ ݁˖ HOMEWORK. Homework can either be really fun or really time consuming. It’s just like regular homework where you recall everything you learned in class but homework isn’t very common the more you move up in classes, mainly because the magic you start to do becomes more hands on rather than memorizing. This doesn’t apply to Snape though. He loves homework.

.☘︎ ݁˖ UNIFORMS. THE ROBES ARE INSULATED. It’s very thick, good quality fabric and keeps you real warm during the winter but during the later hot months like September, it’s not uncommon to walk around with the robes open or in your hands, but you have to wear them in your body during class, no exceptions. They absorb stains??? This is one I wasn’t expecting but it’s a magical robe so…okay! I dropped cranberry juice on the sleeve and it just completely absorbed and it didn’t stink or anything. This doesn’t apply to the tie or anything else, those have to washed for sure.

.☘︎ ݁˖ REALITY. If you haven’t shifted yet, you’ll often hear people say “it’ll feel natural because you’ve already lived there your whole life” and while that is true, it’s also not because how am I supposed to be natural walking past Robert fucking Pattinson to get to Defense Against the Dark Arts???? In my mind, he’s always been Edward from Twilight and seeing him in the hogwarts robes just made me stop in my tracks and stare. Some things come natural and some things don’t but I embrace everything with open arms.

.☘︎ ݁˖ EXTRA. Draco is blonde as hell! Like Targaryen level blonde. I do think it’s natural tho cause Luna has the same platinum type of blonde going on. Harry’s scar is soooo much cooler in this reality, it’s thin but branches out on the side of his face and it’s much more noticeable than the one in the movie. Hermione has curly curly hair! I don’t know if she straightens it in the books but I know she does in the movie, in this reality she literally just got a better curl routine. She has a ton of products and really cares for her hair and she’s lowkey embarrassed cause it’s the one thing she considers “vain.”

There’s a “club” of sorts where a bunch of students get together and run around the castle at the crack ass of Dawn for exercise ( best believe they have NEVER seen the likes of me ). I was told there are wizards who are famous in muggle spaces, typically for music or art. The painting will warn people when the stairs are about to move lol. That whole house discrimination stuff doesn’t happen as often as it does in the movies/books, most people don’t actually care and Slytherins get along with Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs well—however, Gryffindor does have the tendency to poke fun and Slytherins respond with dry sarcasm so sometimes it’s not a perfect fit! House discrimination was bigger in our parents age but as the years have gone by, the current gen doesn’t care fr.

That’s all I can think of atm, thank you for reading and yes I will be doing this with other places I’ve shifted to!

[mojavebluez]

Russian roulette - the salesman x fem!reader (18)

Chapter 1

“Ah, there you are.” He says, a towering shadow standing before you. “I was beginning to think you’d never wake up.”

summary - he’d been following you for a while. When you finally find the courage to approach him, you wake up hours later in his apartment, tied up and completely at his mercy. He has one offer: a game of Russian roulette.

tags - gun play, age gap, kidnapping, bdsm, sub!reader, dom!salesman, sadomasochism, fingering, non-con, praise, degradation, forced insertion, no lube

a/n - I’m slightly ashamed but also not. There’s a bit of backstory so sorry to all you freaks that like skipping straight to the action.. I’ll do a part 2 if you guys enjoy it!!

Series masterlist

4.7k words

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You’d seen him before. Many times. This past month you’d noticed nearly 20 encounters. The first was on the subway a while back, when you had looked up to see him staring down at you with blank, empty eyes. An instant chill was sent down your spine. But he wasn’t like the usual subway perverts: he was put-together, well dressed and very, very handsome. He had an air of assurance about him and a strange sort of dominance that forced you to stare down at your feet - just to avoid meeting his eyes.

You’d barely given him another thought until, the next day, you saw him again. This time it was in a cafe. You had felt someone’s eyes on you and glanced around until you landed on him. He was sat across the room, a lonely white teacup in front of him. He had that same soulless look in his eyes, this time paired with a faint smile. It chilled you again. Was he following you? Or was it just coincidence?

It happened again. And again. Across the street, him standing there, or in supermarket aisles, or on subway cars. Always on subway cars. You debated approaching him, asking him why he was following you around. But sometimes, late at night, you would stare at the ceiling and think about him. His perfectly symmetrical features, crisp, laundered suits - you’d gotten lucky in the stalker lottery, that was for sure. The idea was ridiculous, anyway, people like you didn’t get stalkers. You were utterly normal, boring, even. Things like that only happened in movies.

It had finally come to a head when you went out one night with a couple friends. It was the end of the first semester, so you had all decided to go out and celebrate. Turns out, you may have celebrated too hard. You were somewhere between five and ten drinks (who was counting anyway?) when you caught sight of him across the bar. You slide off your stool, the faint protests of your friends drowned out by the thudding club music. You sway on your feet slightly as you approach him, which seemed to amuse him, a smirk playing on his lips.

Once you reach him he pats the stool in front of him with a wide palm. His eyes never leave yours. The drink in your system seems to swirl the features on his face slightly, but it was definitely him. He doesn’t have a glass beside him, but his briefcase is laid on the bar, its glossy surface reflecting the multicoloured club lights.

“I was waiting for you,” he says. His voice is thick and dark. You’d never heard it before. You had imagined what it sounded like, how he might’ve said your name. Or what it would be like if he whispered closely into your ear.

“Who- who are you?” You say clumsily, surprised at the sound of your own voice. It was a different you. Confident. Abrupt.

“You’ll know soon enough,” he replies, smiling faintly. His hand, very large and covered in spidering veins, is spread on his thigh. It’s an inviting gesture. You instinctively lean into him.

“I’ve seen you before,” you say, tilting your head, “on the subway. And in the coffee shop.”

“Correct,” he smirks, altering the symmetry of his features. But the smile never reaches his eyes.

“Are you stalking me?” You ask. You press a hand against the bar to steady yourself. Everything in the room, aside from him, mixes and bleeds into incoherent colours.

“You’re very drunk,” he states, the smile never leaving his face, “you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I’m fine,” you wave a floppy hand at his face, but he abruptly catches your wrist in the air, his fingers like a vice. Your breath is caught in your throat at the pressure of his grip, draining all the blood until his fingers leave thick white marks on your skin.

“What are you-“

“Just relax,” he says, his voice a smooth purr in your ears, “I’m going to order us a drink.”

He lowers your hand, never letting go, and calls the bartender over. You can’t quite hear what he orders, but he holds up two fingers before turning back to you. Your head swims with alarm bells. The pain that floods your arm, mixed with the cold look in his eyes and your clear lack of personal autonomy - you’re very close to fight or flight altogether. He can see this. His mouth presses into a tight line and his grip on you, somehow, becomes even more firm.

“Please,” he says, but there is no pleading in his voice, “try to calm down.”

“Let go of me,” you squirm, pulling at his hand in an attempt to free yourself from his hold. He doesn’t even shift. If it came to it, you would be entirely at his mercy once he got his hands on you. The thought makes you freeze in your chair.

“That’s it. Much better. You’re a fast learner,” he loosens his hand and you sigh in relief.

The drinks arrive and he slides one over to you. His glass sits, untouched, as he urges you to take a sip of yours. You aren’t sure why, but something in his eyes makes you obey. Maybe it’s the satisfaction once you do - it fills you with a strange sort of feeling. You quite like pleasing him.

A few moments later, you try to stand up. “I need the bathroom.”

“Hm,” he says, watching you with uncertainty, “I’m not sure. You don’t look very well.”

“Exactly,” you say, stepping away. The floor seems to rise and fall like a wave beneath your feet. You stumble, but he catches you, his fingers spread across your abdomen.

“Let me help you,” he suggests, as though you could even object.

He leads you through the weaving crowds, all dancing and throwing their bodies around like rag dolls. You stare up at him, the curve of his features haloed by the spotlights. He’d picked up his suit case in the process of helping you, and it swung at his side, his other arm looped around your waist. Even in heels he towers over you. When the cold air hits your face, you realise he is not, in fact, leading you to the bathroom. You open your mouth to say something, but find that the words die in your throat. Your face feels entirely numb and your feet begin to drag behind you. He makes a small noise of frustration as he lifts you up, hooking a hand beneath your arm to hold you higher off the ground.

Your vision grows blurrier once he opens a car door and sets you down inside, sliding in beside you. Then, you finally black out.

-

“Ah, there you are.” He says, a towering shadow standing before you. “I was beginning to think you’d never wake up.”

You blink your eyes open. Instantly, your head begins to pound and you groan at the pain. Your neck falls back against something solid, and you slowly glance around to find that your limbs are bound to some sort of chair. Your wrists are pulled behind your back as well as your feet, tied to either leg with thick cord. Memories of earlier that night fly past your eyes in an instant as you struggle against the binding. But the more you pull, the more it hurts, and he seems to enjoy this fact. You squint up at him to see his face a mask of utter satisfaction, clearly proud of his handiwork.

His empty, dead eyes, black despite the vibrancy of the lighting. His thick, rough fingers curled around your wrist. You taking a deep swig of whatever drink he had gotten you. And the sound of a car door slamming. Then nothing. He’d kidnapped you. He’d spiked your drink and fucking kidnapped you and now you were going to die here, in this dark apartment and left for dead. You were just another one of those sad murdered girls that die and end up on a podcast a decade later.

“Don’t squirm,” he says, moving to stand before you. You crane your neck to look up at him. Half of his face is shrouded in darkness, the other glowing from the dim red lighting of his apartment. Atmospheric.

“What the-“ you try to get a sense of your surroundings, but the after effects of the alcohol and whatever he had drugged you with made it difficult. Everything feels hazy and undefined. Aside from him. His figure is perfectly distinguishable. You recognise his same suit from earlier: jet black, and he must have fixed his hair, too.

“You’re quite small,” he says, watching you, amused, “I probably gave you too much. Took you a long while to wake up.”

You try to scream. Your voice wavers, a pathetic noise escaping. He chuckles darkly at your weak attempt.

“There’s really no point. No one can hear you.” His black eyes glitter as he says it. God. You’ve been kidnapped by a fucking sadist.

You try again but exhaustion overwhelms you. Your eyes fall to the window, which spans from floor to ceiling. The nighttime Seoul skyline stretches across - you’re in a high rise, presumably a penthouse. Is it his apartment? The air feels hot and close, even more so when you meet his eyes.

“We’re going to play a game,” he says. Your head whips around at the statement. A game?He doesn’t even have the mercy to make it quick.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” he lifts his briefcase onto the low table before you, then clicks the latches and opens it slowly, as though savouring the moment. His every movement makes your skin prickle with uncertainty - everything about him is unpredictable. Bile rises in your throat once you see what sits inside the case. A gun.

“Russian roulette,” he takes it out carefully with two hands, the same way you would hold a precious gemstone. The steel barrel glints in the light like a winking eye.

“Oh god,” you whisper beneath your breath.

“You have heard of it. Good,” he smiles at you emptily, curling his fingers around the grip.

“Of course I have,” you say quietly.

“Then you know the rules,” he moves to sit in a chair opposite you, neatly two feet away. The table separates you, but it is low enough that he’s able to get a full view of you. His eyes rake you from head to toe, landing on the hem of your dress. It rides up slightly, but you’re unable to fix it with your hands bound. You try your best to squeeze your legs together and hide yourself.

He turns the case and lifts out a single bullet, slotting it into the barrel. Your gut twists with fear as he spins the barrel and clicks it in with a flourish that is sickeningly attractive. Everything about him is a juxtaposition. His clean suits that fit his frame perfectly, yet are eerily formal for every occasion. His hollow eyes that chill your bones but also draw you in with an odd curiosity you can’t resist. Every aspect of him leaves you wanting more. But you can’t think this way about him, can you? Not when he is so clearly dying to hurt you.

He leans forward, the gun hanging from his hand. “Your odds of survival are five in six. Nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to- are you some sort of serial killer?” You gasp helplessly.

“I wouldn’t say that. I’m a man of business.”

“And your business is murder?” You add sarcastically, watching his face closely.

He lets out a breathy chuckle. “You’re different. Most people would be begging for their life by now.”

“I’m obviously going to die here. What’s the point in begging?” The words are empty as you say them. You’d already accepted your fate by this point.

His eyes glitter. “Maybe you should beg.”

You press your lips together. The prospect is tempting. “Did you still kill those other people? Even though they begged?”

“Now, now,” he twists the gun, watching his own reflection in the metal, “that would spoil the surprise.”

You don’t respond.

“Besides,” his teeth flash as he speaks, perfectly straight, “as I said, five in six. It’s more of a chance than I gave the ‘others’.”

The high odds must mean he’s holding out for you beg. For him. For your life. You watch, sickened, as he sets the gun on the table and places a large hand over it. “Now to decide who goes first.”

Your throat tightens when he grips the barrel and spins the gun on the table like a children’s toy. The sound of the metal on the glass surface sends needles over your skin. The sound of death being delivered. Round and round. Round and round. He watches it with a terrifying anticipation. The corners of his mouth curl upward, the smile finally reaching his eyes, which sparkle manically, following the gun’s movement. It slows to a halt. And It’s facing you.

You slump in your chair. He slowly looks up at you, unmistakably eager to see you squirm. But you don’t. You watch him with a steely gaze as he picks it up and points the barrel to your forehead.

“You first,” his voice sounds different. Finally, the reality of his nature seeps through. This is the real him.

“Just do it,” you mumbled, looking at your feet.

He leans towards you across the table. You glance up to watch the movement, then freeze. Utter terror jolts through you. Then something else. This is a different man.

“Are you scared?” He says so quietly you almost don’t hear it. He leans closer. And closer. The gun forms a barrier between the two of you, and you watch it steadily until it is barely millimetres from your forehead.

“I said,” you wince as you feel the heat of his breath on your face, “are you scared?”

The truth? Or not? “Yes,” you whisper, meeting his eyes. Something you can only describe as lust shines in them. God.

“You’re crying,” he says breathily. You flinch as he moves the tip of the gun, flicking away a tear on your cheekbone with it. You shiver when the cold metal meets your skin.

“Are you going to do it, or what?” You say distantly.

“Tell me what you’re feeling,” his voice is almost a growl.

You debate satisfying his clear desire. Would he be merciful if you did? “Scared.” You whisper breathlessly.

He nods once. “Carry on.”

“I don’t-“

“Scared of me? Or this,” he traces the muzzle of the gun across your face, making you twitch with every movement. Tears begin to fall, thicker this time, and you fight back sobs that threaten to escape.

“Of you,” you say breathlessly. He exhales at the words, his mouth opening slightly.

“Really?” His eyes shimmer, then he pauses, bringing the gun to the center of your forehead once again.

You hold your breath, anticipating his finger pulling the trigger. Would you feel anything if it fired? He presses it down as slowly as possible, then - click. Nothing. You collapse back into your chair, chest heaving with the release of your bated breath. He leans back again, clearing his throat and adjusting himself in his chair. You don’t watch him, but you hear the click of the chamber and know that it’s his turn.

“See? Nothing to be scared of,” he says it with a cat-like smile, though you know the words hold no sympathy for you. He brings the gun to the side of his temple, his eyes never leaving yours. A strand of hair has escaped and hangs over his terrifyingly handsome features. A part of you wants to play into this fantasy - squirm around and scream for him. That part almost takes over when you see his mouth curve into a smirk as he presses the trigger down. And nothing. His self-assurance is painfully appealing.

“This is going well, isn’t it?” He stands up this time, stepping around the table and towards you.

“Please,” you can’t help the tears from falling this time, “no more, I’ll do anything. Anything.”

He tilts his head, pouting at you. “Now you decide to beg? It’s too late for that I’m afraid, sweetheart.”

The muzzle grazes the edge of your lips, cool but strangely relieving. At least it isn’t his lips. Kissing him would feel like sealing your fate.

Your eyes widen when you realise. “But you didn’t spin the barrel!”

He doesn’t stir at your realisation. “Makes the game more interesting, don’t you think?”

You tug against the cable at your wrists, not even caring about the pain of it scraping your skin. You feel small and pitiable beneath him, but you still struggle in your seat despite the futility. He just watches you squirm, the gun dangling from his hand, not even a smile on his face. You strain your voice to scream, and this time the noise carries. He tilts his head at you.

“Scream like that again and I might have to cover your mouth,” he bends down to be level with your eyes.

You open your mouth again to scream, but he grabs your chin, forcing it to stay open. You gasp at the forcefulness of his grip, and he parts his own lips. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly as the gun enters your line of sight. Teasingly, he brings it closer to your face, then slips it into your mouth. Your breath catches at how cold it feels against your tongue.

“Hmm,” he watches you curl the tip of your tongue over the muzzle, his fingers pressing tighter against your skin.

Something compels you to move, so you do. You lean forward, taking it deeper into your mouth until you feel the muzzle graze the back of your throat. You fight the urge to choke. A single tear falls from your eye, left over from your last outburst, and lands on his hand. His smile suddenly falls and something dark descends over him. He presses the trigger with no warning.

You cry out and he pulls the gun swiftly from your mouth, a string of saliva still connected. He examines the dampness that your mouth has left on the steel and inhales deeply, as if composing himself.

“That’s not fair,” you gasp, your hair falling around you as you lean forward.

He grabs a fistful of the hair at the back of your head, forcing you to look at him. He bends down to meet your eyes as he pulls your hair harder, making you yelp. “What isn’t fair, hm?” He prompts you to speak, though your heart beats so erratically you aren’t sure you can respond.

“Don’t feel like talking? That’s alright,” he brings the gun back into your eye line, but you squeeze your eyes shut, rejecting him.

He makes a frustrated noise in his throat. Then, suddenly, he forces you back against your chair, taking a hold of your throat. You choke as he presses tighter against your windpipe, forcing the air out of you until tears stream from your eyes. He takes the tears as an indication to loosen his grip, and you take in lungfuls of air when he does. He never lets go, though, keeping you flat against the chair and completely in control.

Your chest is open for him as he traces the muzzle from your neck to collarbone, ghosting over the protruding bones. You whimper slightly as he moves it even lower, the icy metal a shock against the curve of your breast. The dress you decided to wear earlier feels like a foolish decision now. The thin material is the only barrier that holds your dignity in place.

You are acutely aware of his movements. He watches the muzzle slide against your skin, making a noise almost like a purr when you react. He swallows when it runs over the bump of your nipple and you arch your back in response.

“You seemed so innocent back in that bar,” he says huskily, eyes flicking up to watch you. He continues running the gun over your nipple, the movements slow and torturous. “But you’re not anymore, are you?”

You don’t respond, too focused on the things that he is doing to you. This is his torture. He makes it so you can barely find the words to speak, then punishes you when you don’t.

He draws a cool, straight line to the flat of your lower stomach, then toward the hem of your dress. He lifts it ever so slightly with the tip of the muzzle and looks up at you. “If you’re going to beg, do it now.” The words are commanding, barely a suggestion. You watch as he pulls off his blazer, revealing his shirt which strains over his chest. His sleeves are rolled to his forearms, and you catch sight of roping veins bulging from his skin. Your skin prickles with anticipation.

“Please,” you gasp, barely registering the words, “please don’t. Please. I’m begging you. I’m begging.”

You nearly scream when he bends down and pulls your legs open with one hand. You struggle more against your bindings, rejecting his advances. He doesn’t stop. You whimper as he rips your underwear down to your ankles. Then, abruptly, he forces the gun inside you. You let out a strangled noise.

“Look at that,” he says, voice deeply amused, “already wet. Who would’ve guessed you were such a whore?”

You cry out at the feeling of the gun stretching you uncomfortably wide. He tuts arrogantly, pushing it in deeper until you arch against it. Then, he pulls it out and stands up, letting go of your throat. You gasp with relief, chest heaving, and he examines the gun in the low light. Your arousal paints it, making the metal glisten.

He moves closer to you, the plane of his hips obstructing your vision. A clear boner strains against the fabric of his trousers. You collapse in your chair hopelessly, the shock of the gun entering you still present in your mind. He grabs your jaw again, pulling your mouth open.

“Taste it,” his voice is empty. Lust clouds his eyes, a dark mist. More hair has escaped, hanging over his forehead, and sweat glistens on his brow. His dress shirt has been disturbed in all his vigorous movement. His tie lays off centre and slightly looser than before.

Obediently, you stick out your tongue, running it over the barrel. But you barely taste anything. The room spins around you like a carousel and your head feels light. It must be the adrenaline.

“Good girl,” his voice is deep and breathy. His chin inclines as he observes your tongue taking in your own arousal.

You hardly register it as he bends back down to one knee. Then, all at once, your senses return to you. He ghosts the gun over the hard bump of your clit, forcing a strangled noise to escape from your throat.

“There you are,” he hums, satisfied.

You can feel the wetness practically dripping out of you. He slips his index finger inside, almost experimentally, curling his finger. It enters too easily, so he pushes in his middle finger, and you gasp at the intrusion. He’s stretching you wider than the gun now - and he knows it. You’re still aware of the gun pressed against your clit, a cold, hard pressure that raises goosebumps on your skin.

Floaters dance past your vision. You let your neck fall back over the chair, keeping your eyes trained on the ceiling. Your heart hammers harder with every pull of his fingers. You hear him make small satisfied hums at the wet sound of his fingers pumping in and out of you, curling and uncurling. You feel heat pool in your stomach. You’re close, but he shows no mercy, still fingering you with ever-mounting speed. Then, he pulls out his fingers once more and swiftly replaces them with the gun.

“We’re two shots down,” he says feverishly, “what if I pulled the trigger now?”

He looks up at you to watch your expression. You open your mouth to beg for your life, but find that the words die in your mouth. He picks up speed, the gun reaching a spot inside you that makes your toes curl. The possibility that he could easily kill you now seems to make your orgasm arrive even more intensely. You hear him grunt as he pulses in and out, faster, faster-

You collapse in your chair. The release is gratifying, yet humbling. The reality of your situation dawns on you as the pressure leaves your gut, and he pulls the gun out. He stands to his full height, the shadow of his figure being cast over you. His boner strains even harder against his trousers, a clear outline now. He sets the gun on the table behind him and adjusts himself, clearing his throat and wiping his hands on his thighs.

You aren’t sure if you have an ounce of self preservation left inside you. He knows this, and revels in it. The room stops spinning, coming to a still and finally grounding you. The light reveals his whole face as he leans over you and tucks the hair behind your ears with both hands. The gesture is almost too affectionate that it feels pretend. You aren’t sure that he is capable of aftercare.

“Well done,” he says, though you don’t feel like you’ve done a good job at all. He used you, and somehow, you let him.

You can’t find any words to reply with. He leans closer, eyes on your lips, his mouth parted slightly. His breath warms your face. You suck in air as he grazes two fingers over the wetness between your legs in a final gesture. He slowly pulls your underwear back over you in a strangely gentlemanly manner. You frantically search his face as the realisation that you didn’t actually die descends over you. He let you live. Why?

“That was the most fun I’ve had in a while,” he chuckles, lips still millimetres from yours. He presses his middle and ring finger to your mouth and you taste the saltiness of his skin. Then he pulls away. Strangely, you lean forward, wanting more of him. But he doesn’t fulfill your wish. He turns his back to you and leans over the case, which is still open on the table. You crane your neck to try and catch a glimpse of what he’s doing but his back is too wide for you to see.

Then he turns to you, his previous empty smile back on his face. The pleasure you just felt is quickly replaced by fear. He stands over you once again and slips a square of card inside your dress and into the cup of your bra. You make a curious noise, attempting to move your arm and then stopping when you remember that you’re still bound to the chair. Finally, he makes an apologetic face, before slipping the needle into your skin.

Oh.

—

You wake up in your bedroom, curled up on your bed wearing last night’s clothes. The strap of your dress hangs off your shoulder, revealing the bare skin of your shoulder. You shiver. Was it really all a dream? How much did you drink last night? You have no memory of coming back to your flat. No memory of falling asleep. Only the memory of him - his perfect face, glistening with sweat and his fingers wet with your arousal. You feel sickened with yourself that you could conjure up such a dream.

Then, you sit up. Something falls from the front of your dress and flutters onto the bedding. A square of brown card. You pick it up, squinting closely to examine it. A number, written in thick black type. Your heart skips. It couldn’t have been a dream. It couldn’t. You remembered him slipping a piece of card into your bra. Where else would you have gotten this from?

Something compels you to pick up your phone. Something wrong. Something not like yourself at all. That night, what he did to you, flipped a switch inside you. That same part of you types in the number. Presses dial. Waits to hear it ring. Once. Twice.

“Hello?” You say, too eagerly. The line is silent.

Then, a voice. Painfully familiar. He pauses, then speaks: “This Friday. Ten. Be ready.”

He hangs up. You were ready before he picked up the phone.

[byeoltoyuki]

DENIAL

↳ Pairing: San x reader

❧ Genre: enemies to lovers, enemies with benefits, fluff

❧ Words: +6k

❧ Warnings: blowjob, unprotected sex, pussy slapping, mention of orgasm denial and spanking and being tied.

❧Summary : You swore it was a one-time thing. Get him out of your system and never see him again. If only it was that simple.

❧ A/N: Surprise! I’m not dead! I’ve been barely active on tumblr for the past few months but I never stopped wishing to have time to write some more. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did while writing. Comments are always appreciated ♥  

“It’s the last time.” You swore against San’s lips, biting angrily, pushing him against the nearest wall, tearing his shirt off, as if it was entirely his fault. When really, it was mainly yours.

This thing, whatever it was, between the two of you, was supposed to be a one-time thing. You were supposed to get him out of your system, maybe also prove that he wasn’t worth your time, and preferably ignore his existence for the rest of your life. So how the hell did a one-time thing turned into two, then three, then ten?

Simple.

San was a walking sin. Handsome (sadly) face with a sharp jaw. Pretty eyes, pretty smile and devastatingly cute dimples. And his body. You shuddered just at the mere thought. Strong muscles that could crush you if he wanted to. Strong hands that often find its ways either around your throat or on your ass.

To sum up, San was a temptation you couldn’t ignore no matter how hard you tried.

“I believe you said the same thing the last two times.” He reminded you, a smug grin on his face. Oh how much you wished you could wipe this grin from his face – but you couldn’t. San held power over you. He knew exactly what to say, where to kiss, where to touch to turn you into an addicted mess, begging for more. Always making sure you would crawl back to him.

There had to be something wrong with you. There was no other explanation.

Annoyed with yourself and a little with him, you shut him up with another kiss, trying to win at least one battle – the only one you stood a chance. There was nothing sweet about the way you kissed. No, you poured both all your resentment and need into the kiss. You pressed yourself harder against him, pulling at his hair which made him chuckle against your lips, completely unfazed with your annoyance.

“Nice attempt, kitten.” San cooed at you, his hands slowly sliding down your body, stopping at your butt. He gave it a strong squeeze that made you bite on your lips to prevent a moan to escape. “But we both know I win again.”

You were dying to protest, to prove him wrong. But it would be lying. Because ever since you met, he kept winning against you.

Six months ago

The bar was crowded and loud. So many people had gathered there for different reasons in the middle of the week. You and your friend were one of them. It was supposed to be a good night. A night to celebrate another victory of yours, another success. And yet, you were far from celebrating. Quite the opposite.

You emptied your glass in one go and groaned. “I can’t believe she chose this Choi’s design.” You complained, still baffled that you had failed. You were one of the best in your field and you had spent endless hours working to satisfy a potential client. You were so confident in your design, convinced your client would adore the outcome. And she did. She did admit it. It was a tough decision and yet, you lost to a guy you had never met or heard before and it irked you to no end, hurt in your ego.

“As much as it pains me to admit, he’s good.” Yeji said and winced instantly as you gave her the stinky eye. She held up her hands in defense. “Don’t look at me like that. I warned you he’s good, you choose not to listen.”

Yes, you made a terrible mistake and you were perfectly aware of it. It wasn’t in your habits to underestimate an opponent whether it was their first time or not, but lost in your own little world, you did exactly that and now were paying the price.

“Fuck.” You buried your face in your hands. It wasn’t the end of your world and definitely not of your career but it still stung.

“Come on, I don’t think it’s a bad thing.” Yeji began, “This project would have taken a lot of your free time. Now you can concentrate on something else.”

“Guess so.” You agreed. “I’m gonna get another drink.” But before you could do that, a commotion behind you attracted your attention as a group of men entered the bar. You didn’t intend to stare (and you were definitely not the only one staring right now) but it was impossible not to. The four of them looked incredibly handsome in their suits and had a powerful aura around them.

Well shit. Your eyes followed them as they went for the only empty table in the back of the bar. You eyed them, one by one, your gaze stopping at the tallest of the group. You watched him, unable to take your eyes off him, as he took off his jacket and slowly rolled the sleeves of his white shirt, exposing strong and veiny arms.

Yeji coughed beside you, trying to attract your attention to no avail. For a short moment you felt like in a movie; the moment where everything and everyone stopped existing except for you and this stranger. It was a ridiculous reaction, you thought later, but there was something about him that had you completely bewitched. Maybe you had a kink for men in suits and you weren’t aware of it. Or maybe it was his aura along with the nice smile.

“YN,” Yeji’s voice sounded so far away despite her being so close. “You should probably stop looking.” She quickly added, sounding a little nervous which should have been a warning but you barely registered her words.

He, sensing probably your eyes on him, looked your way. He stared back, his gaze so intense you gulped. But then, he smiled, showing his cute dimples and you swore your heart missed a beat. Yeah, you somehow ended in a movie.

“You’re drooling.” Yeji mocked.

That got your attention and you quickly looked away. “I am not.”

Yeji burst into laughter. “That got your attention huh.” But quickly sobered as she glanced at the man who was still staring at you, curiously. “Just so you know, this man is Choi San.”

You were grateful your hands were empty because you would have dropped your glass. “What?” You looked back, eyes wide. This beautiful stranger, the man that made your heart skipped a beat couldn’t be the man who won against you. No way. You refused to believe your friend.

Until the said man winked your way, his smile turning into a knowing smirking as if he knew exactly what Yeji had told you. As if he knew, you just found out his identity and were not happy about it.

Fuck my life.

Back to present

San grabbed your hips and in a blink of an eye you found yourself crushed against the wall. He pressed his body hard against yours, letting you feel all of him. Letting you feel just how badly he was also craving you. You couldn’t help but arch and moan as you felt his hardness against you. He pushed his leg between your knees and forced them apart. Your body moved on its own, you grinded shamelessly against his thigh, trying to ease the ache between your legs.

He tsked. “So needy.” And yet he didn’t stop you. “So beautiful, love.” San dragged his lips from your lips, to your jaw, to your throat, leaving no inch of flesh untouched. “So responsive.” Biting, licking, marking you. No matter how many times you told him not to mark you, he still did as if he wanted the whole world to know exactly who you belonged to. As if he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t forget that no matter how much you tried to escape him, there was no way out.

Your whole body thrummed with need, with desire. You believed you could die if he didn’t touch you. It should be illegal to feel so much need for someone.

“Tell me, love. What do you want?” He asked as he bit on your tender flesh.

Desperate and on fire as you were, you were ready to accept anything he was willing to give. “Anything.”

He chuckled against your skin. “My lips?” And he sucked a spot. “My tongue?” And he licked. “My fingers?” You felt him slip his fingers right under your dress, toying with your flesh. “Mmmmh, no panties tonight, love? You knew how it would end.” For someone who behaved as if San was the bane of your existence, you certainly came prepared for this to happen. Hoping he would bring you to his place and ruin you.

“Please, please, please.” You begged, half delirious with need. His fingers were so close to your aching pussy. You just couldn’t wait any longer.

“Use your mouth, love.” He advised you. “You usually have no problem with using this pretty mouth of yours. Especially to tell me how much you hate me.” He pressed the palm of his hand to your cunt and hummed in satisfaction. “And yet look at you. So desperate.” And he slapped your pussy.

You arched your back as a loud moan escaped your lips. It was not enough. You couldn’t take it. “Just fuck me. Please.”

San hiked your legs around his waist, his grip on you strong, bruising, possessive. You loved every second of it. You buried your head into his neck, biting, leaving marks in return. For once, it wouldn’t be just scratches on his back that you would leave.

Holding you with one hand, he took out his cock with the other and nudged against your pussy. Despite his own need and wish to ravish you and make you scream his name, he couldn’t help but tease you.

You whined in response. “Bloody hell, San.”

“Admit that you don’t hate me and I’ll give it to you.” He challenged you.

And you couldn’t believe he would ask something like that. You could talk about your hatred (or lack of it) any other time but no, he chose this moment. The urge to kick him was strong but San pushed the tip of his hot and hard cock inside you and you lost the wish to fight right away.

Fuck it. You needed him to fill you up more. “I don’t hate you.”

The smile he gave you unsettled you. His smile was genuine and so happy, you forgot how to breath. But before you could dwell on it, San buried himself to the hilt.

“Fuck!” You threw your head back.

This.

Him inside you, hard and warm. So incredibly full. You just couldn’t get enough of it.

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath. He was trying hard to control himself and not just pound into you. He wanted to tease you more, to watch you fall apart around his cock. But then, you clenched around him and he growled. “Don’t do that.” It came out more desperate than he intended, exposing just how affected he was. He could play the powerful man all he wanted, but once inside you, there was little control left.

“Fuck me, please.”

San closed his eyes and took a deep breath before, finally, unleashing the beast. His grip on your thighs tightened to the point, you knew it would leave marks later, and did not care. He fucked you against the wall, his every thrusts powerful, going deeper and deeper. Your nails dug into his shoulders, holding for your dear life as whimpers escaped your parted lips.

You took everything he gave you, mewling, arching, begging for more. “Please, don’t stop.” It was still not enough. You didn’t comprehend why you needed so much more from him, but there was no reasoning. Not when your whole body sang in response to his cock.

“No chance.” He reassured you with another sharp thrust. “This,” and another strong one. “is mine, kitten.” And he growled louder, his pace not slowing down. In fact, it turned harder. Punishing.

And it felt divine. Every inch of him just made you feel so alive. There was no stopping. Every stroke of his cock brought you closer to the edge. Your mind blanked. You could barely breath. Your body trembling. And you still wanted more. More pleasure. More of him.

And he could tell. “Come for me, love.”

How could you not obey when his voice sounded so sweet? So full with something you almost believed to be love. Electricity shot through your body and you cried out his name. Tears leaked from the corner of your eyes as your orgasm hit you in waves.

San fucked you through your orgasm, seeking his own release. San’s thrusts grew sloppier. He hissed between his teeth and finally he came with a deep groan. He pressed his forehead against yours.

None of you spoke. The only sound in the room was your pants and probably the roars of your hearts.

“I’m never letting you go.” He promised.

***

You woke up in the middle of the night, feeling all hot and squeezed tightly. It took you a moment to realize where you were and who was lying half on top of you. You weren’t supposed to be sleeping in his bed. In fact, you were supposed to be back at your place, in your bed. But you were drained after your late-night activity.

One round turned into two than three. You couldn’t have enough of him and San obliged. He fucked you in his bed, hands tied behind your back, at his mercy, ass red with all the spanking (who cared if you wouldn’t be able to sit straight for a day or two). He fucked you again in the shower because you couldn’t be a nice girl and keep your hands to yourself when he tried to clean you.

Get the hell out of here! A little, panicked voice ordered you. But as if sensing your attempt at fleeing, San’s grip on your body tightened to the point you couldn’t move your limbs at all. Even in his sleep, he was aware of your intentions. Even in his sleep, he wanted to keep you close and safe in his arms.

You tried a few times but failed every single time. Resigned, you turned in his arms so you could face his sleeping form. San looked so relaxed, his face so soft and the little pout unleashed the butterflies in the stomach.

Shit. I’m in trouble. Big trouble.

You didn’t want to feel so much for this man, but with every passing day it became harder and harder. Obviously, sex was great and addicting, but it wasn’t the only thing that made you come back for more.

Three months ago,

You sighed and cursed yourself for the hundredth time tonight.

They say ‘beauty requires sacrifice’ – you agreed but hated it nevertheless. Nothing was better than comfortable clothes. But tonight, and every time you had a party where you could spot potential clients, you did your best. And tonight, you looked particularly good. You had outdone yourself, whether it was with your dress or your shoes or your makeup. Everything was perfect. Not that you had any ulterior motives. No men you were trying to seduce. And especially not the diabolically handsome one who, and it hurt to admit, chose not to come tonight. It was unusual. San attended the same parties you did which made avoiding him quite difficult and not end in his bed even harder.

You shook your head. “Stop thinking about this asshole.” You scolded yourself and slowly walked towards the balcony, hoping it would be empty and you could take your shoes off for a moment. Heels were great, it made you look hot, but it was a pain in your ass. You regretted them a lot.

You met few people from the party on your way to the balcony; some were too lost in their conversation, some seemed to be lost in a seduction game and some smiled at you. You tried your best to ignore the pain and smile back.

But finally, you reached your destination. You sighed loudly in relief as you found the balcony empty. Just perfect. You leaned against the railing and slowly reached your feet and started rubbing. It soothed you but only for a moment. The wish to just take them off was strong but you couldn’t possibly walk back bare feet.

“What a sight.” A very familiar voice echoed not very far from you.

All your pain vanished instantly as you raised your head and found San leaning against the doorframe, watching you intensely. Your heart leaped in joy at the sight of him which should have appalled you but right in this moment, you barely cared. He looked dashing in his white cream suit. He could be a model and you wouldn’t be surprised.

San eyed you from head to toe, slowly, making sure to memorize the sight in front of him. “I’m surprised no men tried to approach you. You’re gorgeous, love.”

You weren’t waiting for someone’s approval, but his words along with the hunger in his eyes, pleased you more than you were willing to admit. Your words failed you, so instead of trying to say something, you simply stared back and enjoy the view.

A tiny smile grew on San’s face at your lack of reaction. Slowly, he moved toward you and only then you noticed what he was holding in his hand: a pair of flat shoes. Your shoes. You didn’t remember leaving a pair at his place which made you question how he got them in the first place.

“What – How?” You mumbled; eyes wide.

San didn’t answer right away. He stopped in front of you and then, slowly, his eyes locked with yours, got on his knees. You forgot how to breath for a second, unable to look away, unable to speak.

Your treacherous mind couldn’t help but imagine what he could do to you. Your treacherous body forgot all about the pain and instead tingled with desire.

You watched him as his hands found your ankles and a soft gasp escaped your lips. He rubbed your ankles gently, his warmth spreading through your body.

“San-“ Whatever you were about to say died on your tongue as he massaged your left ankle a little stronger – you moaned at the relief. Embarrassed with how easily he made you moan, you clasped your hand over your mouth. San, instead of teasing you like he usually would, only smiled.

“Hold on to me.”

You hold onto his shoulder, your knees feeling suddenly weak. Not because you couldn’t stand properly but having San on his knees, taking care of you and being so gentle? You were a mess and not the kind you were used to. You could probably melt into puddle if you let him be this sweat with you. And that was dangerous.

“I thought you weren’t coming.” You told him to distract yourself from some intrusive thoughts.

“I wasn’t planning to.” He admitted and helped you slip your foot in your so much more comfortable shoe. “But then I thought about missing you in this gorgeous dress.” And then he did the same with your other foot. “And I just couldn’t.”

For a moment you stayed like that. You watching him and wondering how he could be both so evil (at least in your opinion) and so sweet. And San with his hands on your body.

“Couldn’t let another man have you.” San ended up saying as he slowly stood up. His hands didn’t part with you. No, they travelled from your ankles to your legs, to your thighs, hiking your dress in the process causing goosebumps all over your body. “You know why?”

You did know why. Or at least, you could easily guess what he was about to say. You asked anyway, “Why?”

San’s smile went from gentle to wicked and you had no doubt you were in (kind of delicious) trouble. One hand possessively held your waist, the other reached for your hair. His hand tangled in your hair before pulling harshly – a desperate moan escaped your lips. “You’re mine.”

You expected a possessive and dominating kiss. You expected some teeth clashing and a fight for dominance. Instead, he pressed his lips against yours. Softly. Gently. His mouth melting against yours. And so did you. You went completely soft in his arms.

Boy was trouble and there was no escape for you.

Back to present

Despite your rocky beginning, San was probably one the sweetest human being you had ever met. It pained you to admit it but you could no longer hide your feelings behind your hostility. He was gentle and caring. Every little gesture, every little thing he did for you without you expecting him to do, made your walls crumble and your heart yearn for him.

Two months ago,

The advantage of creating your own company with your friend, meant you were the one to decide how to dress, without anyone criticizing. If you decided to come to work in your pajamas the only look you would get would be a shrug from your friend. Which exactly was your case today.

You were exhausted and your body ached. Everywhere. You had San to thank for that. And maybe also yourself. You weren’t planning to provoke him or be a brat, but the temptation was too strong, and you paid dearly for that.

You tried to shake off the image of you under him, sweaty, panting, trembling, begging for him to let you come, your hands tied to the bed with his belt, your skin red and covered with marks. His marks.

You tried to forget the image of him nestled between your legs, digging his fingers into your skin as he teased you. As he feasted on you. Endlessly. Mercilessly. He pushed you to the edge for what felt like hours but never letting you come. No matter how much you begged. How much you cried. Because San had learnt everything about your body. He knew how much you could take. And he showed you.

You groaned and slammed your head on your desk. How were you supposed to have any work done today if you couldn’t concentrate?

“Cute office.” As if summoned just by your mere thoughts, San commented.

Startled, you almost fell off your chair, letting out a little, and very unflattering, yelp. You gawked at him, completely taken off guard and embarrassed. “What the hell are you doing here?” You didn’t intend to sound so hostile, but your tired brain was not cooperating.

San only chuckled and walked inside your office confidently. It was unfair that you looked so not composed and tired while he looked so handsome and relaxed. There was no justice in this world. Or maybe he wasn’t a human (which, in your opinion, would explain a lot). “Plushies, really?”

You cleared your throat and tried to compose yourself. So what if you had a few plushies scattered all around your office? To some it seemed childish, but really, they were the best moral support you could ask for. Plus, they were cute. “Yes. They keep me company.”

“Aren’t you full of surprises.”

You chose not to comment. Instead, you watched him closely and finally noticed what he had brought you.

San followed your gaze and smiled. “I figured you’d need some coffee after the night you had.” And he looked too damn proud when he said those words.

You huffed but couldn’t ignore the smell of coffee as he got closer to your desk. Whatever embarrassment you had felt previously vanished as he set the cup on your desk.

You slowly reached for the cup, eyes not leaving him. “For your information, I feel perfectly fine.” You were not.

San laughed at your poor lie. He sat at the edge of your desk and hovered over you. “You’re a terrible liar, love.” He pointed at the lovely, red mark around your wrist.

You hurried to pull at your sleeve to cover the mark, but San grabbed gently your wrist and brought your hand closer to him. You thought he wanted to inspect and admire his work and probably tease you and remind you why you got tied in the first place (news alert: you couldn’t keep your hands off him when he specifically told you to be a good girl and not touch him). He did none of that.

San peppered your wrist with kisses, the warmth of his lips tickled your skin. At this gesture, butterflies erupted in your stomach. He had absolutely no right to be this gentle and sweat with you. You wanted to argue and tell him to stop but your mouth refused to cooperate. Your whole body (the little traitor) surrendered to him.

Whatever game the two of you were playing, you were now convinced, you wouldn’t come out unscathed.

Back to present

Gently you reached for his face and pushed back some strands that fell over his eyes. You realized, in that moment, that you had made your choice. You could stop running.

Because San was worth the risk.

***

San was no longer in the bed.

You stared blankly at the empty spot before slowly reaching for his side, patting the spot. It was still warm. You rolled to his side and pressed your face to his pillow, inhaling his addicting scent. You still couldn’t believe that you had stayed the night. But oddly enough, now that you had admitted to yourself that there was no avoiding San – it felt nice.

It felt right.

A tiny smile spread on your face. When was the last time you felt so satisfied? So in peace? So happy? You couldn’t remember and maybe because it had never happened before.

Lazily, you threw the blanket off your body and got out of bed. You grabbed San’s shirt from the nearest chair and put it over your body. It was tempting to just walk out of his room naked and tempt the devil, but your body ached in reminder. There was no way you could have another round.

The moment you stepped out of his room, you easily guessed where to find him. A delicious smell was spreading in the hall. San was making breakfast and your stomach grumbled in response and delight. You had the privilege of trying his food. Once. You smiled at the memory. He had promised to take care of you. And he did.

He always did.

One month ago,

You had been told many times that you were a stubborn woman. You would love to refute this statement but sadly, it was true. Today was just another example of your stubbornness. You were sick, coughing for your dear life and a little feverish. But did it stop you from working from home? Absolutely not. Bundled up in your fluffiest blanket, a cup of tea with honey on your table, you pushed your limits. Didn’t matter that you received at least ten messages from Yeji, threatening you if you didn’t get any rest. You laughed at her attempt, even when she threatened with sending you San to deal with you. You didn’t really think she would reach him. Could reach him.

That was your mistake.

Music in your headphones you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings. And why would you in the safety of your home? Why would you when you lived in a friendly neighborhood, without stories.

Until you felt strong arms around your body.

Until your heart missed a beat.

You screamed, as loud as your lungs allowed you to while being sick.

You fought for your life, kicking, and screaming as the intruder lifted you from the couch as if you weighed nothing. It was a sad way to go, you thought, alone, at home, looking like a mess in your damn pajamas. You could already imagine the headlines.

Or maybe you wouldn’t die. Maybe, whoever was holding you tightly against a very solid torso, wanted to kidnap you. It was better than death, right? Right?

“For someone supposedly sick, you have too much energy, love.”

Your body froze instantly at the warm and friendly voice.

You knew that voice.

You loved a little too much that voice.

You opened your eyes and gawked at a very amused San. He shook his head, smiling fondly; his dimples on full display - your hand hitched to poke his cheeks.

Realization dawned on you.

One, you should definitely not underestimate ever again Yeji’s threats.

And two, you were not going to die today. Except maybe of embarrassment. Your face heated up in embarrassment and you buried your head into his chest, trying to hide, trying to forget the very unlady scream that had left your mouth.

San laughed softly and pressed his lips against your forehead. “It’s okay. I promise not to tease you about this little incident.” Seemed too good to be true. San never forgot about your embarrassing moments. Never. “For the next few days at least.”

“Knew it. Asshole.” You cursed under your breath and slapped his chest for good measure. Not like it hurt him anyway but you felt a little better afterwards. You cleared your throat, “How about you put me down now?” Thought for a second and quickly added, “And maybe explain why and how the hell did you get inside my place?”

San huffed in response and pressed you a little tighter against him. “Why? Isn’t it nice? In my arms?”

“No. I hate it.” You lied through your teeth.

In fact, it was more than nice. Too fucking nice.

It felt right.

And safe.

San was warm. And gentle. And smelled too damn good. You forced your body to obey and not to move. You forced yourself not to rub your nose against his neck. It worried you a little how badly you wanted to do it. Your fever is the reason. That’s why.

San laughed heartily at your blatant lie. “Yeah sure. Whatever floats your boat, love.”

Your ego demanded that you defend yourself but any words you were about to say died on your tongue as San carried you straight to your room. It was his first time at your place and yet he looked like he belonged.  That was another worrisome thought.

“Wait-“ You protested at the sight of your bed. Your brain finally caught up with his intentions. “I’m not staying in my bed!” And you wriggled in his arms. You didn’t mind if he dropped you (what a little pain right?), but there was just no way you would go back to bed when you have lot to do.

“Yes, you are.” San threw you on your bed, making you squeal in the process.

You recovered quickly, glaring at him as angrily as you could manage, ready to jump out of the bed. San pushed you back with one hand. One, strong enough, push and you fell right back.

“Don’t even think about it.” He warned you. “I’m glad to know I’m not the only one you refuse to listen to.” There was no doubt he was referring to Yeji but you ignored his remark (and took note to curse your friend later for not minding her damn business).

“Yes. You’re not special.” You grumbled and pulled the blanket over your body. You refused to admit that being in your bed felt nice, your body instantly melting in your sheets.

“YN.” You winced at the use of your name. San almost never used your name. He loved using different pet names that most of the time pushed your buttons (and yet they grew on you). Hearing your name coming out of his mouth brought very unwanted feelings. “You’re a stubborn little thing, but it’s okay, I like it.” He hovered over you and brushed few strands of hair from your face. “Be a good girl and rest. I’m going to take care of you.”

Back to present

You thought you couldn’t take another round. Well that was your thought before finding San in the kitchen.

Fuck my life.

If you thought that San in a suit was hot, this San in grey sweatpants and shirtless and cooking was a sight you would never forget. Who cared about breakfast when you had such a sweet meal right in front of you? And who cared that your body was begging you not to jump on him?

To hell with food. You had a better idea.

Without making any noise, you approached him. You pressed your lips to his shoulder, then to his back, enjoying the taste of his skin on your lips. You expected to startle him but San only chuckled and glanced over his shoulder.

“Hello love.”

You only hummed in response, too busy peppering his back with kisses.

“Food is almost ready.” You bet San knew exactly what kind of meal you wanted and yet he played pretend.

You hummed again while your hands travelled from his shoulders to his arms, hands to settle then on his hips. Before you could explore further, San grabbed your hands and turned to face you, trying to look stern. Nice attempt, you thought. But his eyes betrayed him.

You batted your eyes innocently but refused to let go so easily.

“You won’t stop, will you?” He asked, resigned.

You licked your lips in response. San let go of your hands and you smirked in victory. Slowly you lowered yourself on your knees. You grabbed his pants along with his boxers and pulled, freeing his cock. Your mouth watered at the sight of your prize. Long and thick and begging for attention.

You grasped him with both hands and stroked. Slowly, gently, taking your time. You savored the feeling, the moment. The power you had over him. You loved letting him take control over you, but you also delighted in watching him come apart because of you. Because of your touches, your mouth, your tongue. There was just something so hot, so sexy, watching him throw his head back, his eyes closed, lost in his own pleasure.

You pressed your thighs a little tighter, feeling just how easily you got wet and you had barely touched him yet.

Slowly, you licked his cock. Up and down, savoring the taste of him. His hips bucks in response and you hid your smirk. It was game on.

You slid his length down your throat, moaning at the feel of him inside your mouth. San was thick and long and hard and you still weren’t fully used to him. But who cared? A little challenge was always welcoming. You took him as far as you could – your eyes watered.

“Fuck, kitten.” He groaned as his hands sank into your hair, grabbing tightly. You moaned around him in response, loving the slight sting of pain. “You’re so good to me.”

You usually weren’t but you didn’t correct him. You also didn’t tell him how much you wanted things to change between the two of you. But it was okay, you had lots of time before you. And right now, the most important thing for you was to please this beautiful man, this lovely and sweet human-being.

You bobbed your head and licked and sucked, confidently, eagerly. With every swirl of your tongue, his grip on your hair tightened. You bet he was trying hard not to let go and just fuck your mouth.

Every little groan, every pants only fueled your own desire. You were yourself so turned on you fought the urge to slip your hand between your legs and take care of your own needs. Not this time, come on.

“Just like that.” He encouraged you.

You moaned in response, eyes blurry with tears as you stared back at him. And what a sight. San chocked. He was barely holding on. You so eager, teary, your mouth full of him.

Your mouth and hands worked in tandem. You increased your pace, sensing he was so close to his release. And you wanted it. You wanted him to come down your throat. You wanted to show him you could be a perfect, little girl if given a chance.

“YN-“ He warned you and tried to push you off him.

You didn’t budge. You held stubbornly and let him explode with a roar inside your mouth. He watched you with bright eyes as you swallowed everything. He watched as you slowly released him and licked your lips, glowing in delight and satisfaction.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” But despite his words, he smiled. He grabbed your arms and lifted you from the floor. You barely had time to recover, his lips were already on yours. Sweet, gentle and yet also demanding. He parted your lips with his tongue and deepened the kiss, tasting himself on your tongue, moaning into the kiss.

You melted in his arms, into the kiss. This was the best morning ever and you wished you had done it sooner. How many mornings like this did you miss because of your own stubbornness? Because you refused to admit how you truly felt? It was ridiculous and you punched yourself mentally for that.

San pulled back. He held your face between his hands, staring more seriously at you. “You stayed.”

Oh. Maybe you were about to have the talk after all. “I did.”

If San was frustrated with your answer, he didn’t show it. Ever the patient man. He simply nodded and stroked your cheek. Slowly. Lovingly. His eyes never left yours. “You never did before. Why now?”

Your heart beat loud and strong inside your chest, you bet he could hear it too. “I-“ Why was it so hard to be honest? Why was it so hard to confess how you truly felt? It shouldn’t be. Not with him. And yet, you couldn’t formulate a proper answer.

Fortunately for you, San saw through your struggle. “Let me tell you this, YN. I want it all. I want you. Your heart, your body, your soul and everything you’re willing to give me.” And there, the dimples were back as he smiled at you. “I want your smiles and your lovely giggles. I want your anger and your tears. I want to spend my days and nights with you. And I want to wake up by your side every single day. Do you want it too?”

There was only one possible answer and as he finished his confession, you couldn’t help but give him the warmest smile you could muster. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“I want it very much.”

[misctf]

What You Wanted

Richard wanted to better himself. At first, as a wide-eyed new freshman, he was looking to make a change. Having always been more nerdy and unathletic, Richard prioritized his studies rather than his physical fitness growing up. But after years of fearing the gym, he took his first step. And the rest was history. He grew lean with muscle and learned the ins and outs of the gym routine. He found a gym buddy and quickly climbed the social hierarchy. Smart, fit, and now entering his junior year- he was living his best life.

“Richard!” Thomas’s nasally voice cut through the air, “Are you even paying attention?” Beady eyes narrowed behind his thick rimmed glasses.

Richard shrugged, “Sorry, I must’ve zoned out.” He was thinking more about his gym session earlier that day instead of paying attention to whatever nerdy movie Thomas picked, “I’m just not feeling it today.”

Richard and Thomas were friends since middle school. Both unapologetically nerdy, each surviving their fair share of bullying. But while Richard’s interests in fitness blossomed, Thomas remained entrenched in all things nerdy.

“You’re never feeling it anymore.” Thomas lamented, “I’m worried about you.” He looked at his friend closely, “Are you becoming like them? One of those stupid, smelly meatheads?” Richard knew Thomas never approved of his new friends- especially since many of them gave off the same vibes as their former bullies.

“Thomas, look.” Richard started, “I just... We’re obviously very different people now.”

“Not true! We both study Biochemistry! We’re both applying to graduate school in a few months!” Thomas interjected.

“Yeah, but Thomas, I’ve changed. I don’t really like superheroes and Battle Monsters and all that stuff anymore.” Richard sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I mean, its fun from time to time, but you’re obsessed with it.”

“Obsessed?”

Richard nodded, “Look, I need to get going. I have an exam.” He grabbed his backpack and started towards the door.

“Is that how it’s going to be?” Thomas yelled, “So you think you’re better than me too? Just like all those stupid jocks, right?” Thomas continued, “Fine, if you want to be a stupid, smelly jock so bad, go for it! Don’t come crying to me!”

“Whatever.” Richard said, “See you around.”

_________

Richard worked through his thermodynamics exam with ease. It became such a mindless activity that his thoughts wandered to Thomas. They had been close for years. And Thomas gave him an outlet for some of his more nerdier interests. Sure, he wasn’t as interested in all that nerd stuff like he was back in middle school, but Richard did value the time he spent with Thomas. He frowned. Maybe he was just a bit too harsh.  He’d apologize once he got done with his exam. But as he continued to write down the answers to these complex questions, he felt something welling up from within him. Something physical... something...

BUUUUURRRRPPPPP

Richard’s eyes widened and he quickly covered his mouth. He felt his cheeks flush red and looked around the room, noticing a few looks of disgust, as well as a few snickers from some of his classmates.

“Richard?” The professor said, looking up from her book.

“Yo, my bad dude.” Richard’s eyes widened, as did the professor’s, “Whoa, brah! Didn’t mean to say that!” His face reddened even more.

“Richard, please focus on your test.” She said sternly.

He nodded, trying to tune out the snickers from his surrounding classmates, ‘What the fuck was that?’ He thought to himself, trying to regain his composure, ‘Okay... just focus.’

But as he stared at the problems on his exam, he noticed small drops of water appearing on his paper. He raised an eyebrow as more drops appeared on his test, smudging his work.

“What the...?” He whispered, “Sweat?” He rubbed a hand across his forehead, “What the fuck?” He said aloud, again disrupting the class.

“Richard!” The professor slammed her book down.

“Dude, just back off.” Richard snapped back. He heard a few audible gasps from his fellow students and his face flushed red, “Bro, that came out wrong. I don't get why I'm sounding like this, bro.” His face flushed red again and he suddenly stood up and headed towards the door, “I gotta take a breather.” He said. But as he approached the door he could feel the same heaviness in his stomach, “No, no no... buuuuuuuuurrrrrpppppppp.”

He slammed the door behind him, and fled from the classroom.

_________

Richard walked across campus as fast as he could. He needed to get back to his apartment as soon as possible. Or maybe to a doctor. But wherever he went, he just needed to be somewhere private. The young man wiped some sweat from his brow and cringed.

“No way dude, I’m like a waterfall.” He whispered, “Oh fuck, look at my pits.” Dark pit stains rapidly formed beneath his arms and continued to grow larger. Richard stopped in his tracks and raised his arms, taking a deep whiff of his own stench, “Huhuhuh that’s ripe, dude.” He chuckled to himself. It was the judgmental stares of nearby students that broke him out of his train of thought, “I’m sorry!” He whispered, blushing deeply, “I didn’t mean to... burrrrppppppppp.” His face reddened even more.

“Haha nice one bro!” A nearby jock laughed.

“Yeah dude! Been dropping bombs all day.” Richard replied with a grin. He quickly shook his head and ran towards his dorm room, ignoring the jock's attempt for a fist bump.

_________

Richard slammed the door to his dorm room shut and threw his backpack across the room. At this point, he didn’t know what to do. His shirt had soaked through from his sweat and a new manly musk was clinging to his sweaty body.

“Okay, I just gotta go to an urgent care.” Richard whispered.

He walked over to his dresser to change his shirt, and he quickly stripped out of his soaked t-shirt. But when he looked down at his body, something wasn’t right.

“Yo dude, since when did I get abs?” Richard mumbled, “Oh shit, look at my boulders.” He rubbed a hand across his large shoulders, giving them a squeeze and chuckling dumbly, “Huhuhuh why do I need a shirt?” He flexed his bicep and watched as it bulged with strength, “Woah fuck look at that!” He watched as his bicep seemed to get a bit larger too, “Dude... that’s buuuuuuurrppppppp.” Richard chuckled, “Fuckin’ new protein powder. Makin’ my gassy as fuck.”

His plans to visit an Urgent Care were quickly leaving his mind. Instead, he continued to focus on his various poses, and amused himself with each growing muscle. Richard walked over to the couch and fell back onto it, grabbing his phone and posting a new picture of himself on his social media. All the white, he absentmindedly scratched as his massive chest, which was starting to sprout a light dusting of hairs. He grinned as various likes started appearing on his picture, and he felt his cock start to grow. He grabbed his massive cock and started stroking it, moaning with each tug.

“Fuck yeah.” He moaned, “Fuck people would be lucky to ride this dick.” He grinned, “Dick’s dick huhuhuh.” A knock at his door broke his concentration and he groaned with disappointment. His cock remained tented in his pants, but he didn’t care. He opened the door, casually scratching his hairy pit, “Oh fuck, Thomas dude! What’s up?”

Thomas grinned, “Richard?” He asked, “Wow.”

“Impressed broski? And don’t call me Richard. More of a Richy.” Richy grinned, “Come in, bro! Look, I’m like totally sorry about earlier. All that nerd stuff that you like. Didn’t mean to be a dick about it.”

“You don’t have to worry, Richy. You made it quite clear that you’re not a nerd anymore.” Thomas chuckled, “You wanted to be a stupid jock, well now you are.” 

Richy raised an eyebrow, “Stupid jock?” Something about that wasn’t right. Stupid jock? The words kept echoing in his head, “Stupid jock?” He repeated again, scratching his head, “That’s not... I...” Richy grabbed his head and looked at his friend. For just a second, the dull, dumb look in Richy’s eye was replaced by a knowing intelligence. A horrific realization evident in them. But it quickly lost its spark and his eyes dulled, “Huhuhuh yeah, I guess I’m pretty stupid. But doesn’t really matter when you’ve got this.” He grabbed his bulge and smirked, “Dude, you see that pic I posted? You think I could make it on OnlyFans?”

Thomas nodded, “Yes, I think you could. But I ought to go.”

“No wait bro!” Richy said, blocking his path to the door, “I mean... I know you always say you hate jocks. But its ‘cause you’re into us, right bro?” Thomas’s face reddened, betraying his secret, “So like...” Richy smirked and walked up to Thomas, who’s own khakis were now tented, “You wanna star in my first OnlyFans vid?”

_________

Richy stretched his hands above his head and sniffed his ripe pits. His dick twitched at the smell and he grinned. It’d been a few weeks since he posted his first video to OnlyFans. And yet here he was again, rewatching his first video: “buff jock fucks gay nerd.” Without fail, it always made his dick hard. And even though he posted several more videos since then, he always found himself coming back to this one. But even a masterpiece gets dull and Richy pulled out his phone. He ignored several horrified texts from his parents asking why he dropped out of school, as well as deleting multiple invites to interview for grad programs, whatever those were. Instead he found Thomas’s contact info.

“Hey bro.” He messaged, “Be at my place ASAP.” He took a quick selfie and threw in a few eggplant emojis to get his point across.

Afterwards, he tossed his phone somewhere on his bed. He didn’t need to see Thomas’s response. Sure he was stupid, be he did know one thing. No one, especially not Thomas, could resist this dick. And the knock on his door not even ten minutes later was all the confirmation he needed.

[ditzydoe444]

prof jason x student reader!? i luv ur content sm

MDNI 18+

teacher's pet ૮₍˶ •. • ⑅₎ა ♡

prof! jason x student! reader

jason todd smut

jason todd was your professor at university, you were currently studying engineering, and struggling doesn’t even begin to describe your current situation. no matter how much you studied, participated in class, and asked questions you always found yourself barely passing. it was just something about the stupid numbers that didn’t make sense to your brain.

one night you were mentally planning on telling your professor about dropping the class, but one thing led to another of your fantasies going wild. jason was attractive, he had this rugged manly look going on, with his messy black hair, muscles that were huge and the charming crooked grin he would give. he really was attractive.

next day you stayed back at the lecture, preparing to tell him about dropping the class, your fantasies were fantasies for a reason. it was inappropriate, and god jason would never condone it.

“sir,” you mumbled shyly as you approached his desk, his pen cap held by his teeth as he marked work. you’ve never felt so shy talking to a professor. normally, you were the teacher's pet growing up, so why were you so affected?

“i was thinking about dropping the class,” your voice dropped lower the moment his eyes met yours, cold and calculating. jason shifted in his chair, placing the pen’s cap back on before leaning back, his strong arms crossing each other. “what makes you say that?”

well because you were barely passing.

“i’ve been struggling with this course, it’s like no matter what i do i'm always getting the same low marks.” jason let out a low chuckle, his smile lines becoming prominent, “you’re dropping because you can’t stand getting low grades? thought you were more resilient than that sweetheart.”

the endearment had more of an effect on you than you would’ve liked, your cheeks heating up whilst you fidgeted with the hem of your skirt. maybe wearing a mini skirt to class wasn’t the best idea. “you know i don’t like students who give up easily right? so no, i'm not letting you drop out.”

your eyes widen, that wasn’t the response you expected or wanted. “i need to maintain my average sir, if i stay here it’ll go down,” you pleaded, your voice shaky.

“there are different ways to get your credit up,” jason shrugged nonchalantly as he resumed marking his papers. different ways? what other ways would he be thinking?

“other assignments sir? or participation marks? i always participate maybe something could be gained from that.” you rambled, you were so desperate to boost your average it was a pathetic sight, to say the least, and you could tell jason was having the time of his life.

he shook his head, “you said you were barely passing and want another assignment? how desperate are you sweetheart?” he raised a brow.

very desperate. you would do anything.

jason stretched his legs out, his legs spreading far apart, showing his thick muscular thighs. suddenly your mind drifted back to the fantasy you had last night, what if you just kneeled down in between his legs and-

though jason quickly broke you out of your trance, his deep voice speaking up. “you going to keep starin’ in between my legs or respond sweetheart?” your cheeks heat up, you were basically begging to switch classes and now you got caught for staring at your professor's clothes cock.

he was on the slightly older side, you’ve heard he doesn’t really talk that much to other people, so he must have some sort of pent-up frustration right? what if you helped with that?

everything was embarrassing enough, usually, conversations with professors regarding topics like these would be shorter, them letting you drop the class, but no. you’ve embarrassed yourself enough so what if you just acted on your fantasies? if it goes wrong it’ll give you a reason to drop college altogether.

before you could even think rationally about the many, many things that could go wrong with what you were going to do, you kneeled right in front of him. “you gonna suck your way out of this?” he raised a brow, a small lazy grin on his face.

“will it work?” you asked, but you didn’t care if it didn’t, at this point this was for your own pleasure too. your hands fumbled with the belt, before unzipping his pants. “if you decide to put on your best show,” jason shrugged, despite how nonchalant he was acting, the large bulge in his pants gave his true feelings away.

you clumsily tugged his pants mid-thigh alongside his boxers, springing out his erection. you tried your best to not look intimidated by his size, but it was hard. his long fat cock was in your hands, with the slightly pink tip already leaking with pre cum. “gonna give it your best sweetheart?” jason groaned at your touch, his head tilting back with his eyes shut.

“yes sir,” you mumbled softly as your hands worked up and down his cock, watching it get harder in your hands. when he was big everywhere, he was big everywhere.

“stop playing around and suck,” he hissed sharply when your thumb wiped the leaking pre cum. obediently, you obeyed, shoving him into your mouth with no warning making him groan loudly. you were too eager to think properly, your nose touching his trimmed hair, whilst one of your hands was wrapped around the two inches you couldn’t take.

even though you didn’t fully take him in your mouth he was big enough to make you gag slightly, tears already welling up in your eyes, whilst you felt your jaw was going to lock. “aren’t you eager sweet thing?” he cooed softly, one of his hands gently caressing your cheek whilst the other gripped the arm of the chair.

slowly, you went up and down his length, your tongue swiping against his tip tasting the slightly salty fluid. “m-mph,” you whined as you tried to force the other inch down. “if you keep going ‘m gonna make sure you get full credit for everything, alright sweetheart?” jason whispered softly.

you were a mess and jason loved it, there was just something about seeing someone younger than him with their mouth stuffed with his cock, with tears streaming down their face whilst their saliva dribbled down. you’ve been sucking his dick to the point where you were convinced your jaw was going to lock, it was being stretched out to the point of being uncomfortable.

“gonna come sweetheart, mind if i fill your pretty little mouth,” he cooed softly. you hummed eagerly, nodding like a desperate whore. “so desperate to be filled up aren’t ya? how about i fill your little cunt up after as a reward?” you moaned at that, the vibrations sending shivers to jason.

you gagged the moment he filled your mouth, his hot salty fluid filling up your mouth. in a matter of seconds, he pulled your he had away from his cock harshly, making some of his cum dribble down your chin. “come here and ride me sweet thing,” jason groaned slightly as he patted his thighs.

you wasted no time straddling up, he pushed your baby pink lace panties to the side before shoving a finger into your cunt. “already soaked for me, aren’t you an easy thing to please?” his slight stubble tickling your chin as he kisses your neck.

it was a matter of time before you were bouncing on his cock, your lewd moans filling up the lecture hall paired with your skin slapping with jason’s. “there we go, bounce like a bunny sweet thing,” he praised as his large hands encircled the whole of your waist, supporting you whilst he thrust upwards.

“already drooling sweetheart,” he cooed softly watching as your saliva mixed with his cum dribbled down your chin to your shirt, staining it. you couldn’t keep your mouth shut from the moans you were letting out with his harsh thrusts, and also couldn’t swallow it as he would basically make you choke and gag on your own saliva come from how hard he was going.

“gonna keep this our little secret sweetheart?” jason groaned as he squeezed your waist tightly. “y-yes,” you whined out, one of your hands wiping your mouth to stop the saliva and cum dribbling down. jason quickly grabbed that hand, holding it tightly in his grip whilst he stared at you intently, “yes who?”

“y-yes sir,” you whined out, making a mess on your chin and shirt. jason gave a crooked smile, “good girl, can’t have the word getting out that you love bouncin’ on my cock can we?”

[jaehaeryshater]

Gilly, Ygritte, and Monster in Winterfell

art by @shebsart, commissioned by me

Shebsart came through once again guys!!! I’m so excited ^_^

For about a year and a half, since I got into ASOIAF, I have admired Shebsart’s work. Their Theon in particular is the closest I’ve ever found to my vision of him, I adore his hooked nose (Asha’s too!). They also have such an amazing Barbrey design and the Starks, including Jon, are amazing. I have paid for some Ygritte commissions before with other artists, and I have liked all three of them, but when it comes to the closest look of what I think of when I imagine her book counterpart is some of Shebsart’s old pieces of her (and Jon). I was looking for someone to draw Gilly and Ygritte and there was nobody whose opinion that I held in higher regard than Shebsart, as they were my favorite ASOIAF artist, so I asked them if they had any recommendations of who had their commissions open. They told me they actually considering opening their commissions and I have been working with them ever since, even though as far as I know they have not formally opened commissions. Shebsart has been really great to work with and patient, even though there’s been some trouble with payment barriers since we live in very different parts of the world. They’ve been professional and worked hard.

I have long imagined the possibility of Gilly and Ygritte as friends; I thought it was high time I got it depicted in some way. I think it would really benefit Gilly if she had some female influences that weren’t family members. Of course, she does receive this to some extent, but I think it would be very interesting for her to find companionship with a girl around her age that shared the general Freefolk culture, although of course her upbringing was wildly different than Ygritte’s. We know that Ygritte has some sort of soft spot for young children, or at least some sort of moral code that keeps her from killing them. This is one trait shown in both the books and the show. In the show, while I don’t consider anything that happened to it as canon, she specifically spared Gilly and Monster knowing that the others around her would not. I don’t think it would be much of a stretch that Ygritte would grow attached to Monster and have a soft spot there, even though we know she hates incest and would therefore consider his conception an abomination. Everyone in ASOIAF is misogynistic to some extent and some of the things Ygritte says about women are toxic, but I would like to think she wouldn’t victim blame Gilly or call her a whore as Stannis did. I definitely see Ygritte as a strong woman who would want to protect and stand up for someone like Gilly. And Gilly has great compassion and is all around a good person, so I think a friendship would be good for the both of them.

In the depiction above, Ygritte is Queen in the North, consort to Jon. This fits in the same AU as my previous Jon and Ygritte commission by shripscapi. I’ve said this many times, I respect people who hate Jon x Ygritte and they have very valid reasons, but knowing Jon’s character, as long as Ygritte lives, which she would have in this AU as the Battle of Castle Black does not happen, there’s no other choice in Jon’s mind for consort for him as King Beyond the Wall. For the timeline of this art, Jon was first crowned King Beyond the Wall and he went South with his people to get away from and prepare to battle the Others, seeking help from other rulers. His men battle the Boltons and because neither Rickon or Bran have been found yet, he is declared King in the North as well for the time being. His residence is temporarily taken up in Winterfell and the Freefolk settle nearby in close quarters. Jon goes towards the Vale as he’s heard word about Sansa, but Ygritte stays behind with some of the Freefolk. This is when Gilly is her lady-in-waiting. I wanted to show that Ygritte’s clothes are nicer than Gilly’s, but I still wanted both outfits to be respectable. I wanted the fashion to be reasonable for a Northern climate, so that meant furs. Besides, they are both Freefolk and furs mean a lot to them culturally. I sent references for clothing and Shebsart went from there. Some people say Ygritte would never wear a dress but I disagree if it was comfortable enough and she was able to boss people around and be smug, I think she’d wear it as long as it was advantageous for her. And besides, I imagine that Jon designed the dress herself and that’s flattering enough for her to like it. What I did like to show is that Gilly is taking more towards traditional “ladylike” activities like embroidery, while Ygritte isn’t interested. She’d rather sit around and talk and laugh.

Oh, and isn’t baby Monster precious????

Edit: I’ve seen someone say they think Ygritte would hate her life if this is what it was like, and I’m not mad at it or anything, but I don’t agree!!! To clarify more about this AU, Jon becomes King Beyond the Wall because the Freefolk believe that only someone with Stark blood would be able to negotiate with the Others, so they’d be doomed without him. So therefore it’s not just about her feelings for Jon, she’s married to the person she believes will be able to save her people. The influence she has on him is also major and a source of pride for her. In the art above, she is living in Winterfell and yes she’s wearing a dress, but that isn’t her life forever. The reason she stays and doesn’t go with Jon to the Vale is not because she’s a woman and he refuses to let her fight, but because in the main timeline she has a child already (this art has a bit of a fudged timeline, if I were to write a fic on this idea she’d already have had a child before they breached the Wall) and if Jon were to die, the child still has Stark blood and would still be the only hope against the Others. If she had been South and had died with Jon (Jon doesn’t die at this point, but the prospect is why she stays behind), the child would have a regent with their own motivations and wouldn’t have its interests at heart like Ygritte would. This is an important role that I do think at the end of the day, despite Ygritte not being the smartest person, she would take pride and be protective over. It’s not simply that motherhood has changed her and is a role that took over her previous personality, because that’s not true. It’s that there are greater things at play and she’s a key part of protecting the source of the realm’s salvation, so to say. She doesn’t live at Winterfell forever and when at Winterfell, she does boss around some Lords but doesn’t do any chores that she would find tedious. The most she does is sew together a wolf plushie for her child, which was incredibly poorly done. When Bran and Rickon are eventually found and thus Jon doesn’t have the title of Winterfell, they settle in lands previously ruled by the Umbers and she doesn’t wear a dress anymore, I have another commission by shripscapi that shows her usual attire but it is furs, she does hunt, she teaches her children to hunt and falconry. Her traditions are not stomped out in favor of Southron traditions. Her home is not a castle, but a small home slightly more impressive than the huts of the rest of her people, inspired by architecture during the Norman invasion. All in all, she’s really happy. The most important thing to her is that her people are safe, the Others are going to be defeated, and they’ve gotten past the Wall, a goal of her people for a long time. I guess I’ve just had a different view of Ygritte and the Freefolk than majority opinion. I think the Freefolk are more adaptable than people in the South generally are, and it’s impressive how they rallied together despite their differences when faced with the Others. I don’t think the Seven Kingdoms would be able to do that. So I feel as if she, as well as most of her people, would be very happy and feel a sense of accomplishment for being able to live on and live among people that, before the threat of the Others, would never be able to tolerate them and vice versa.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Love at first sight - Sirius Black

summary: lily's sister who goes to beauxbatons throws the party of the summer which sparks likely friendships, and an even likelier romance. wc: 2.3k

Lily came into the Great Hall the same way she always did: a determined look on her face, chin lifted up confidently, carrying overflowing papers in her arms, but something was different. Those paper she carried? They weren’t filled with head girl applications or polished assignments, no, they were party invitations.

She sat at her usual seat, and as per usual, the marauders ruffled through her papers. “Party invitations?” Whispered Sirius excitedly, as though it was something secret. Lily puffed her chest out “Y/n’s throwing a party, and encouraged me to extend the invitations to some Hogwarts students.” James cleared his throat to stop himself from choking on his tea. “I’m sorry? Your parents are letting you throw a party? The same two people who didn’t let you come over to Marlene’s tea party?” Lily grinned widely. “Well, y/n only comes home during the summers. I’m there every winter and spring break , so she kind of has a way with our parents. All she had to say was ‘this is our last summer before we graduate’ and she had them.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Marlene cut in, her face lighting up, “If this is y/n’s party, does this mean it’s going to be filled with sexy french kids?” Lily nodded happily, sharing a look with the other marauders. It was going to be the party of the year.

You and Lily were the epitome of opposites. You’d engrossed yourself in getting to know all the kids in the neighborhood and quickly because friends with your french neighbour, while Lily only befriended one — Severus. By force of being around the young boy, you’d learned his language, his language which quickly became your own. Whilst you and Lily had your own friends, no one was closer to you both than each other. You were twins, not only blood brothers but best friends. Due to your linguistic talent, you’d not only received a letter from Hogwarts on your eleventh birthday, but from Beauxbatons too. Petunia, ever so jealous of your relationship and your magic, had duped your parents into sending you away.

Petunia had ran off crying, locked in her room alone until she formed the plan of the century to break your relationship with your twin apart. “Well, they’re always together. Isn’t it better for them to learn how to live apart from each other?” And your parents had fallen for her trick. Now, you only saw each other during the summers, and your relationship was stronger than ever. But things would soon change.

The only thing Lily heard of for the rest of the day was this party. Who was she inviting? How many people would be there? “Sirius, it’s not my party. I don’t know the details. All I’ve been told is that I have these invitations to give out to people.” Sirius stared at the front of the boldly decorated invitation on the top of the pile which read in a glittery font ‘No invite, no entry!’ He ran a rough estimate in his mind and decided there had to be at least seventy invitations in the stack of papers. “Can I help give them out?”

Lily and Sirius had proudly made up a list of who to invite, or not to invite, the rest of the marauders eventually gathering around to put in their own two cents. When the invitations had been given out, Lily returned to her dorm whilst the marauders all sat in front of the black lake, soaking up the limited sun rays whilst staring at their own invitations. “This is some high end decor.” Commented Remus, turning his invitation in his hands. The fonts had been carefully chosen, and a textured disco ball sat in the centre of the page. “Yeah, according to Lily, y/n loooves to party.” Marlene added, laying on her back. “I’m excited to meet her,” started James “She sounds fun, and we barely ever hear about her from Lily.”

Sirius hummed, gears turning in his brain. “Lily said they’re nothing alike.” He recalls. It was true. You and Lily weren’t only opposites in terms of personality, but looks too. Despite being twins, you had taken all of your father’s genes while Lily took after your mother. No one ever believed you when you said you were twins, let alone siblings.

The party was nearly an entire month later. The marauders found themselves outside an ordinary muggle house, glancing at each other nervously. Had they arrived too early? Marlene glanced down at her invitation, ensuring that they were there right on time. A knock on the door and they were waiting. The door slammed open and they were met with you, a bright smile on your face and a tray in the other with an array of pink and blue jell-o shots. You weren’t the only thing that welcomed them, but the loud roar of noise from inside the house blasted them too. Remus cocked an eyebrow, thinking ‘That’s one mean silencing charm.’ “Grab a drink you guys!” You called, holding the door open with your foot as you moved to the side for them to come in. You introduced yourself over the noise, clueless to the mesmerised eyes following you.

Sirius let himself be dragged into the house by Remus, though his eyes followed you as you escaped into the backyard. Lily had been right, you weren’t nothing alike. You wore fishnets under your small denim shorts, your top exposing more than just midriff. He gulped, trying not to be caught staring at your breasts when you turned around, instead moving his gaze to the endless jewellery you wore.

Sirius heard himself gasp — apparently the french like to be early. The party in the backyard was lit, he finally noticed, with groups of people already playing beer pong, dancing to the music, and even exchanging light conversation. Lily ran to join them, trying to properly introduce you to her friends, but you were running back to the door as the bell rung once more.  Apparently everyone arrived at once, because a crowd of people suddenly flooded the living room. A mix of elegant french and fast english chatter filled the air, and Sirius saw Marlene’s jaw drop, already picking the girl she was going to spend the rest of the night flirting with. Just as Lily was about to catch you, you jumped onto the coffee table, pointing your wand to your neck with an amplification charm.

“Okay, listen up everyone!” You called out, and from within the crowd, Sirius caught your eye, his muscular arms thrown over two of his friends' shoulders. You hadn’t properly noticed him when he walked in, but now? You shook the thought out of your head. “We have about 200 wizards in this house. A house that you can tell is in a muggle neighbourhood! Now, my silencing charm may be great, but it doesn’t hide magical activity! So if we can keep the magic down to a minimum and get the party up to a maximum that would be great! Where’s my music!?” And suddenly the music roared to life. Sirius shoved to the front of the crowd, offering you a hand to help you down from the coffee table. You felt your stomach jump at his offer, the light reflecting off his silver jewellery. Instead of taking Sirius’s hand, you wrapped your arms around his neck, swinging your legs off the table. Sirius snaked his arms around your waist without missing a beat, spinning you around so you let out a joyous laugh. “And who might you be?” You asked, running your hands down his chest before letting them hang by your sides.

Sirius curtseyed, miming saluting you with a hat whilst very poshly saying “Sirius Black, at your service.” You giggled, putting both your hands on his bicep. “Hey, you met Sirius!” Lily cut in, bumping you with her hip. You met her eyes, and they glinted with mischief. She most definitely knew how attracted you were to Sirius in that moment. “Come meet the others!” She didn’t give you time to respond, instead tugging you away from the curly haired boy. You waved at him, yelling “I’ll see you later!” and then “Shut up” to Lily when you turned around. You didn’t have to look at her to know she was smiling like the cheshire cat.

James was the first to bring you into a hug, his hands respectfully patting your back. You turned to look at Lily, nodding in approval. Your introductions with Remus and Marlene were quick, witty comments given by each of them before Marlene so boldly asked “Hey, is that cute brunette over there into girls?” You laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Sweetheart, you’re going to have to be more specific, but for you? Anyone would be into girls.” Simple to say, Marlene turned bright red, and not because of the warmth the alcohol had given her.

When Sirius returned to the group, you were already gone, dancing with your friends. He threw his arms around James’s shoulders, resting his head on his best friends’s shoulder. “James, we’re going to be brothers in law!” The boy barked out a laugh, pushing Sirius away to look at him properly. “I’m in love with her James.” Remus laughed, slapping a hand on Sirius’s back. “Well what are you going to do about it buddy?” He asked, sharing an amused glance with James. “I’m going to convince her to come to Hogwarts. Wait! First, I’m going to make her fall in love with me!” Sirius frowned at his two friends’ loud laughs, muttering something like “I’ll show you.” But he didn’t have the chance to come find you in the crowd, because two pairs of hands were placed upon his shoulders, and you appeared, saying “Come dance with me.”

Sirius almost passed out at your offer, blindly following you onto the dance floor and missing the surprised look Remus and James shot each other. Apparently, you wouldn't need much convincing to fall for Sirius. Sirius took your hand, spinning you around, and you looking him up, looking around as though it would hide the bite of your lip. Sirius’s jeans were just tight enough around the crotch, and low waisted enough that every time he raised his arms too high, a sliver of his abdomen would show as his top would ride up. You spun around in Sirius’s arms, pressing your back against his chest. His hands trailed down to your hips, tugging them closer to his own. You giggled, moving your body alongside the music. Sirius groaned, whispering the lyrics in your ear, his hot breath hitting your sweaty skin.

The next time Sirius groaned, it wasn’t out of enjoyment, it was because someone had called out your name. “Viens avec nous? Just une cigarette!” (Come with us? Just one cigarette!) You had laughed at your friend’s words, shaking your head. “Non, il est trop beau, je ne veux pas le quitter!” (No, he’s so gorgeous, I don’t want to leave him!) Sirius hummed as you turned around in his arms, putting both your hands on his chest. “Come outside with me! Somewhere we can talk!” You grinned, sliding both your hands down in his, and letting him drag you outside.

You let Sirius guide you to a less crowded side of your garden, where you could people watch without being disturbed. You pushed Sirius against the wall of your backyard, watching as his eyebrows flew upwards in surprise. “So, Mr. Black, what would you like to discuss?” Sirius felt his heart surge, its pace quickening by the second, and he was sure you could feel it under your fingertips too. “Go out with me.” He heard himself blurt, and his eyes went wide at his own question. You laughed, looking around. “Aren’t we out right now?” The silence he left you with made you giggle, leaning your head forward on his chest. “I’m just joking.” Sirius shoulders slumped down in relief, hands loosely gripping your hips.

“I don’t want this to just be a little party flirt. I want to really get to know you. You… you seem cool.” You pressed yourself onto your tip toes, leaning forward to softly kiss Sirius. He sighed as you pulled away, chasing the kiss softly, but you refused to reconnect your lips. “I’d really like that.” Sirius smiled widely, pulling you flat against his body. “And hey, who knows, maybe you can show me around Hogwarts?” Sirius nodded, replying with “Yeah of- wait, what?” You straightened your back, cocking your head to the side. “Yeah, I’m moving to Hogwarts next year. Mum and dad finally had enough of me being so far away.” You interrupted yourself with your own laugh, pushing yourself off of him and looking around. “That’s what this is! My goodbye slash welcome party. Didn’t Lily tell you?” Sirius shook his head, stepping closer to you. “Well since I’ll be seeing more of you, can I properly kiss you now?”

Nodding at Sirius, you let him tug you closer to him, bringing you into a passionate kiss. You gasped at the force of his kiss, letting Sirius slide his tongue into your mouth. Moaning softly, you brought your hands up to cup Sirius’s face, pushing your body even deeper into his. “Oh my!” You pulled away from Sirius harshly, stumbling away from him. “I mean, I knew you guys had something going on, but I didn’t know it was going on.” You felt your face flush at Lily’s words, and heard Sirius cry out from behind you “Why didn’t you tell us she’s joining next year!?” James, from next to Lily, turned to face her, surprise overtaking his features. “I wanted to see how you guys got along before telling anyone!”

Remus approached the four of you, tipsily mumbling “Marlene has a roster of like three girls right now, and I just overheard some guy saying he wants to jump in the lake. I didn’t know there was a lake.” Remus stood silently, finally taking in the scene in front of him.

“I’m sorry, did I miss something?”

taglist:

@ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe

[darkmist111]

Percy and Annabeth are great characters, and one of my favorite couples.

I didn’t really feel this was needed until Wrath of the Triple goddess but I do think they need to have a fight, a big fight.

I’ve heard some people say they think they need to break up however, but I think that would be a major mistake on the characters part even if temporarily.

The thing is Percy and Annabeth have been partners and best friends longer than they have been in a romantic relationship. They argued and challenged each other all the time. Their romantic relationship is still relatively new, and while I think they would’ve been comfortable just transitioning straight into a romantic relationship without too many hurdles, slowly learning how their relationship would change and evolve, the universe had different plans.

Percy got kidnapped, Annabeth got sent on a Suicide mission, both of them fell into Tartarus, and they never really had time to unpack the battle of Manhattan either.

So it’s completely reasonable they might be trying to scrub their relationship clean of anything that could hurt it. Which unfortunately means they’ve defaulted back into their Battle of Labyrinth, don’t talk about their feelings phase. Except their trying to replace the angst with fluff.

I do however think this is only temporary and that they do need to have a fight.

Annabeth has a fear of abandonment, and Percy has a fear of being seen as a problem to be sent away. All of that has been reopened by the last war. I don’t however think it’s a good idea for them to break up, but I do think a fight is necessary.

They need to have a fight, they both need to be miserable for a little bit, but then they stick together. Percy makes it clear to Annabeth that he’s not going anywhere, and Annabeth needs to make it clear that Percy is worth it and not a problem.

Basically, they need to learn that their relationship is strong enough that they don’t need to scrub it clean of conflict for it to survive.

They have faith in their friendship, faith in their Partnership, faith in each other, now they just need to have faith in them.

That being said, I didn’t genuinely feel this was something that was needed until Wottg because before it didn’t seem like they were trying to pretend the confrontational parts of their lives didn’t exist. Even in Cotg it didn’t feel like Percy or Annabeth were trying to shut down their feelings. Here it feels like their trying to stuff down any emtions that would make others around them uncomfortable.

And it’s not just Percy and Annabeth, Percy absolutely should’ve been mad at Grover, they should’ve reconciled at the end but he shouldn’t have just written it off.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Black, Purple, and Blue

AN: fluffy goodness 😘💕

Synopsis: The amount of times your husband gets hit during the Ravens game quickly has you concerned, but he tries to reassure you that there is nothing to worry about

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: a beautiful anon 😍

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Hit after hit after hit

You watched your husband get pummeled to the ground multiple times against the Ravens from the comfort of your bed at your home in Cincinnati and it seemed as if there was no end in sight. Multiple people had asked if you wanted to watch the game with them, but you quickly decided against it. You would rather be at home by yourself and not be at some random bar hearing people drunk off their asses talking about your husband if he were to lose.

A fight almost ensued between you and another fan during Joe’s second season with the Bengals and from that point on, you knew it wasn’t even worth your time. You knew Joe was an amazing quarterback and his stats proved it despite what people may say about him.

The game was not moving in the direction that you originally thought, but despite this you still held onto hope since the score was so close.

Joe had confessed to you earlier in the week how anxious and nervous he was for this game and it was to be expected. They were playing in Baltimore on their turf, but seeing how the Ravens caused them an upset at home, it would only be right if the Bengals did the same thing.

Joe was always focused during the season, but it went to a different level when he was playing any team within the same division as the Bengals were.

When the Ravens had gotten the ball back, the camera suddenly cut to the Bengals sideline and you could see Joe wincing in pain as he was holding the left side of his body, Silently cursing to yourself before letting out a sigh, the wheels in your head began to turn and immediately thought the worst.

This time last year as he was playing the Ravens, he sustained his wrist injury that put him out for the rest of the season and the last thing you wanted was for him to go through that all over again. You saw the way it bothered him deep down, even though he thought he was being good at putting up a front for you.

Being married for a total of four years, you could see right through his bullshit and could immediately tell when something was off with him.

You took a sip of your strawberry flavored Truly as you saw Joe throw to Ja’Marr and end up with a touchdown and quickly placed it back down on the table in order to celebrate.

But now, it was time for your nerves to be turned up to another level because you saw them wanting to go for a two point conversion.

“You cannot be fucking serious right now.” You quietly said out loud, even though there was no one in the room but you.

During the play, someone on the Ravens defense had pulled Joe’s face mask and you were yelling at the television seeing as how they never even called it.

Suddenly, your phone rang next to you and you debated on whether you should answer it until you saw that it was your cousin Yalisa. Clicking accept, the first thing you heard was her yelling.

“Y/N! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS GOING ON IN THIS GAME?! DO YOU SEE HOW MANY CALLS THEY MISSED?! And not them beating your husband like he stole something.”

“I’m so over this, I don’t even know anymore. It seems like they are personally working against them. Did you see him grab Joe’s face mask?”

“Yes! And that’s why I called you! Are the refs blind?!”

“Um, the only names I’ve heard all night are Joe and Ja’marr. It doesn’t seem like anyone else showed up to play today.”

“See? That’s why Joe is as ripped as he is now because he’s carrying this team on his fucking back!”

“And he keeps wincing, so I’m concerned because he has yet to seek medical attention. He just keeps going back in and I can tell that something is wrong with him.” You quietly said and tried to take a deep breath to help ground you from the uneasy feeling that was creeping in.

“I guess he sees it as he has to go back in because who the fuck else is going to? They are seriously pissing me off. Is this the week that Zac gets fired?” She asked and you immediately stifled a laugh.

“As much as I would like that to become a reality, a lot more things need to change beside that one.”

It was one in the morning when your phone rang alerting you that you had a facetime call from your husband and you immediately answered.

The two of you stared at each other as you noticed Joe was laying down. In order to get more comfortable, he adjusted himself and you once again saw him wince. But before you could say anything about it, you heard his voice.

“I didn’t wake you up did I?” He asked and you simply shook your head no.

“No, and you know I always wait for you to call me before I go to sleep. I have to hear your voice one way or another.”

“And hearing your voice has to be my favorite thing in the world. I just can’t wait until tomorrow when I actually get to hold you.”

“I can’t wait for that either and I am going to fix all your favorite comfort foods and we’ll eat ourselves into a food coma to get through this.” You replied as you brought the comforter higher up your body since you were getting cold.

“While watching rom coms of course.”

“A man that knows a way to my heart.” You told him and he gave you a small smile.

It was quiet for a few seconds and then you spoke up again.

“Baby?”

“Yes?”

“I saw you wincing during the game. I don’t like when you wince.”

“I’m okay, really. It’s not a big deal.”

“Joey, don’t give me that. You got hit multiple times. If something happened then…”

“I promise that I’m okay, just a little sore. I already took the motrin that you slipped in my bag for me earlier.”

“Well someone has to do it seeing as you always forget.”

“True, and I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Stop! Stop being so cute when you’re so far away and I can’t kiss you until you get back, it’s not fair.” You whined and Joe let out a small laugh.

“You can have all the kisses you want once you see me. Promise.”

“Joey? How are you and do not under any circumstances bullshit me right now because I will be on the first flight to Baltimore if you do.”

The deep sigh he let out before giving you a verbal answer was telling.

“Frustrated.”

“Go on.”

“It seems like there is a disconnect somewhere and I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Cough your coach Zac Taylor cough.”

“Well, that and there is something else. Just haven’t quite figured it out yet.”

“Can I be honest? You are amazing in your own right and even though I know that you already know this, Joey the last thing I ever want to happen is for you to in lack of better words waste your career for an organization that doesn’t quite seem like they value or care about you. Like, my husband is the shit and I’m not being biased. You are one of the best, if not the best, okay now I’m being biased. But, you’re amazing and I just want so much better for you. Do you know how much it hurts to see you so upset every week that you lose knowing that you show up every time for your team and give 100% while others don’t?”

—

Hearing the front door open from you and Joe’s shared office as you were working on your laptop, you immediately hopped up and ran to the foyer to greet him.

As soon as he spotted you, his bag was thrown to the side as he opened up his arms to embrace you as he placed several kisses on your lips.

When you did bring him in for a hug, once again you saw him wince.

“Joseph….”

“No, stop. I’m fine.”

“Hmm, pull up your shirt.”

“Damn, you want me to fuck you already? I was thinking…” Joe started to say, but you cut him off.

“No! Well yes, but not yet! Lift it.”

“But…”

“NOW.”

Once he did, you saw a black, purple, and blue bruise in the area where his ribs were on the left side and immediately gasped.

“BABY!”

“I’m fine, just a little bruised. I don’t want you to worry yourself.” He told you as he put his shirt back down and grabbed your hand as he kissed the back of it.

“A LITTLE bruise? It literally takes up a very good portion of your torso. And how can I not worry? My husband is a professional football player. Worrying is ingrained in my brain now. It got ingrained when I met you at LSU so stop.”

“Would it make you feel better that I got checked out before we got on our flight to come back home because it was bothering me when I woke up?”

“Yes. Kind of. But still!"

“And I’m fine. I promise like I said, and you're so cute when you worry about me."

"Not cute, I get flustered and pray nothing bad happens to you."

Crossing your arms, you nodded your head as Joe uncrossed them and leaned down to kiss you.

"Nothing is going to happen, and I'm going to need you to relax for me. Now that we got that out of the way, I’m also going to need my wife to lose her clothes.”

[twisting-roads]

DEBUNKING COMMON RAIN WORLD MISINTERPRETATIONS

The target audience for this was for people who don't know too much about the game as well, so I'm going to explain things that a normal player might already know.

Rain World is known for how it simply throws you into the world with almost no tutorial, and is often praised for it.

But this lack of explanation if you do not go out of your way to find it has also lead to a lot of misinterpretations from those who did not read all the game’s available information, or misunderstood what they were being told. I used to watch some RW lore videos that would explain and summarize these things, and in the past I believed them.

I’ve since stopped doing that after having some time to actually process what I’ve been reading, and I’m here to say...

YOU ARE ALL WRONG ABOUT RAIN WORLD.

Ok, hyperbole. Not everyone believes these, and art can always be interpreted in different ways by different people, and I won’t stop you from having these beliefs. But also, there’s plenty of ingame content which completely disproves most of these unsubstantiated points from those who do not fully research the game before making videos about it.

Looking at you Tale Foundry…

The purpose of this is to pick apart some of the sadly far too common points I’ve heard many times before from Youtube videos, to Tumblr posts, to people I’ve spoken to on Discord.

Starting with my least favorite…

------

“The 5 karma were seen as sinful”

Obvious westernization of a game based off fucking Buddhism aside, there’s no ingame text directly supporting this claim. There isn’t any that says otherwise, but we have good reason to believe this isn’t the case.

The 5 natural urges, as they’re sometimes called, were NATURAL. They were what bound you to the cycle. They never worsened your life or made you a terrible person should you keep following them, but an aspect of life on the same level as suffering or ecstasy.

Hey, I’ll break down the 5 karma and their meanings to show you that they're not just "sins"

I believe the natural urges have 2 different meanings: an animalistic one, and a more “human” one.

KARMA 1 This obviously represents violence, as you see one guy stabbing the other. I believe it also represents competition and intense emotions, For example: Artificer experiencing intense grief and lashing out in violence as a result. It was not the violence that started it, but her emotions. (Yes, its Downpour. But it’s a good point.)

KARMA 2

They’re having sex. They’re fucking. They’re- ok you get it. Karma 2 represents reproduction. But, I also believe it’s desire. Joyful bodily experiences, and such. The 2 figures seen here are in a much more playful pose than if they were simply doing this only to reproduce. No, they’re having fun.

KAMRA 3 Connection. Bonding with others. Yet also trade and personal belongings. Attachment to things that are not yourself.

KARMA 4 It’s mentioned ingame that this represents gluttony It’s overindulgence, you know. Similarly to karma 2, it can also be searching for fulfillment. I'm not particularly good at telling what the meaning of this could be.

KARMA 5 Self preservation. Self preservation can come in many forms, from an animal running away from a predator or somebody getting defensive after being accused of something or being threatened, this one is rather vague about its meaning.

I do this to show that the 5 urges have very NEUTRAL meanings. It being positive or negative is entire dependant on context. They’re not sinful, get out of here with that Catholic shit!

The 5 karmas have both positive, negative, and neutral contexts which they can fit into.

------

“The ancients hated being alive”

The ancients simply hated the cycle itself and its unknowable properties, as well as being much more aware of things like karma and the urges. Rather, they valued being effortless to disconnect themselves from this cycle.

“This was an eternal dilemma to them - they were burdened by great ambition, yet deeply convinced that striving in itself was an unforgivable vice. They tried very hard to be effortless.” – Bright Green Pearl (DS)

Some practices did of course include things like starving yourself, but as mentioned by Moon, these methods proved to be mostly obsolete. Void Fluid fundamentally changed their culture from what we see. Rather, we do see the ancients enjoying life and valuing it in their own way, which is INCREDIBLY important to some of the games themes, but I’ll get into that later.

"[...]'In this vessel is the living memories of Seventeen Axes, Fifteen Spoked Wheel, of the House of Braids[…] Seventeen Axes, Fifteen Spoked Wheel nobly decided to ascend in the beginning of 1514.008, after graciously donating all (ALL!) earthly possessions to the local Iterator project (Unparalleled Innocence), and left these memories to be cherished by the carnal plane.The assorted memories and qualia include:Watching dust suspended in a ray of sun (Old age). Eating a very tasty meal (Young child). Defeating an opponent in a debate contest, and being applauded by fellow team members (Late childhood/Early adulthood).’...and the list goes on. I'm sorry, little creature, I won't read all of this - the list is six hundred and twenty items long.” – Deep Magenta (SH)

There’s quite a lot to pick apart here, I had to cut down some parts short, but even the cut parts have important details. Just not important enough for me to bring up here.

The Memory Crypts we see ingame are… well where memories are kept. The qualia (personalized experiences) is stored within these mutated fleshy neural organisms referred to as “cabinet beasts”. These of course, contain the “living memories” or qualia of those who have ascended. There are people smarter than me who have already covered these ideas of course, so I won't go TOO indepth.

The ancients greatly valued titles and achievements just as us. They still lived normal lives. As well as this, they valued personal experiences and memories of the carnal realm so much they built an entire citadel to store memories.

As we can see as well, Seventeen Axes has quite a lot of enjoyable memories from throughout their life. Eating nice food and winning a debate contest and getting validation from their peers? That sounds rather… complacent with the 3rd and 4th natural urges, doesn’t it?

I do not believe this screams “I hate being alive!” as much as people have made it out to be, and is honestly ruins part of the game’s messages of compassion and personalized experiences, especially in the game’s ending where Survivor dreams of home.

“You have no name. I once had! I was embalmed, adorned, readied for the journey. So proud. There was jubilation! My name was sung, loud and clear. Did they know? That I didn't quite leave, didn't quite stay? Should I be ashamed? That I linger here, where my memories are kept? Should I be ashamed that I now envy your flesh prison?” - Four Needles under Plentiful Leaves

This is leaning into personal theory territory, but...

I personally believe that the ancients were somewhat terrified of the unpredictability of the cycle and the fact that life would always have more suffering in it.

RW’s religion is heavily based off Buddhism. This is well known of course. The Cycle is a variation of Samsara. Now, I’m not Buddhist, and I’ve tried to do my research about some of these topics. Feel free to correct me, I’m simply going off what I know. (Also I'd love to hear what you have to say regarding your thoughts on the game!)

In Buddhism, each new life you could be taken into the body of an animal, or even end up being tortured in hell for a very, very, VERY long time if you made the wrong decisions, which made escaping it as soon as you could seem like a rather reasonable thing to do.

The ancients never fully grasped the scope of the cycle, and the prospects of having your soul wake up in the body of some miserable worm with no memory of your past or any ideas of your future might’ve seemed bleak.

Suffering is inevitable. But that doesn’t mean they hated being alive, like I said before.

------

“Rain World is post-apocalyptic.”

It really isn’t. There was never any apocalypse. The ancients simply left on their own accord, leaving behind their mark on the world that will slowly be buried once again in the ever so present cycle.

“The bones of forgotten civilizations, heaped like so many sticks.” - Two Sprouts, Twelve Brackets

The world is thriving, even. The purposed organisms left behind have evolved and taken over and become it’s own ecosystem.

The iterators are dying though. Dying very slowly, but soon they’ll all decay and everything will move on.

It’s all just another manifestation of the cycle.

------

“The creatures in Rain World cannot die”

This is definitely something I hear from people who haven’t played much of the game and only hear about it from outside sources and watch the gameplay.

Yes, it is easy to believe this. As slugcat, when you die, you wake back up again. This is entirely a gameplay thing and not actually related to the lore. Saying this might seem like I'm avoiding the question at hand here, but the rules that apply to you do not seem to apply to other creatures.

Every creature in the game has a 4 integer ID (it can go higher, but not in a standard playthrough).

This makes every creature you see an individual of sorts with its own randomized values or appearance.

As well as this, creatures spawn from specific marked dens. When you kill a creature that spawns from a certain den, the next cycle, that creature’s ID will never appear again. Instead, the den spawn is replaced by a creature of the same species with a different ID, or a new species entirely.

Through gameplay, you see that the respawn rules that apply to you do not apply to other creatures. I’ve heard many points about how these dead creatures are transported to another alternate universe where they are alive, but I really do not want to delve into that theory. You do that yourself.

Excuse my unprofessional language, but this is kind of stupid. Billions and billions of little timeline splits accounting for every single insect and microbe that dies seems far too complex of a solution. Occam's Razor and all that.

With this gameplay element you see, I also want to give LORE explanations as to why this is incredibly stupid.

1) If death had no impact, the 5 natural urges would not matter

If no creatures died, there would be no point in eating (karma 4), competing with other species (karma 1), or any form of self preservation (karma 5). Reproduction (karma 2) has no role and there would be absolutely no reason to do anything any longer. All natural processes would be useless.

2) Light Blue Pearl

The information received from the cycle is most likely from the Light Blue Pearl, found in Outskirts.

“[...]The repeating mantra is important because it symbolizes the cyclical nature of life and death, and the termination verse is a symbol for ascension above and beyond it. I don't know how familiar you are with the nature of life and death, but I imagine like all living creatures you have some intuitive knowledge? Then you know that death isn't the end - birth and death are connected to each other like a ring, or some say a spiral. Some say a spiral that in turn forms a ring. Some ramble in agonizing longevity. But the basis is agreed upon: like sleep like death, you wake up again - whether you want to or not. This is true for all living things, but some actually break the cycle. That doesn't apply to you or me though, you are too entangled in your animal struggles, and for me not breaking that cycle is an integral part of the design. Our mantras keep repeating.”

“Then you know that death isn't the end - birth and death are connected to each other like a ring, or some say a spiral. Some say a spiral that in turn forms a ring.“

This line is very misunderstood. Moon specifically mentions birth and death. She mentions death. She never brings up the notion that nothing truly dies either.

As well as this, Moon says that “some say”, implying that even the ancients weren’t sure what the cycle was either. This is more important to my point regarding how the unfathomable nature of the cycle was why the Ancients were so averse to it from above, though.

------

“Sliver of Straw found the solution.”/"There is/isn't solution"

No she didn’t.

.

.

Ok fine I’ll explain.

If you’ve played Rain World you know that the purpose of the iterators is to find the solution to the “Great Problem”, the problem of how to ascend ALL living creatures.

You’ll also know Sliver sent out the Triple Affirmative…

“[...]affirmative that a solution has been found, affirmative that the solution is portable, and affirmative that a technical implementation is possible and generally applicable. She's also one of few that has ever been confirmed as exhaustively incapacitated, or dead. We do not die easily.[…]” - Pale Yellow (SL)

After sending out this affirmative, the iterators became conflicted. They never could figure out if she really ascended and had found the solution, or if it was some sort of catastrophic error.

The answer to the Great Problem is clearly intended to be as obscured as possible. There cannot be an answer one way or the other. The themes of it and the endless tolling of the iterators would not be as impactful if we knew there was or wasn’t a solution.

“[...]Either way, after that these different factions developed, as well as a huge forensic effort to recreate and simulate Sliver of Straw's last moments. Some of the simulations were wrapped in a simulation wrapped in a simulation, in case something dangerous might happen. Nothing much has come from it.[…]“ - Pale Yellow (SL)

Here’s my favorite way of explaining what I mean…

Imagine Schrodinger's Cat, the famous thought experiment. There’s a 50/50 chance that when you open the box, you either find the Solution, or find out there is No Solution.

Except you cannot open the box. And the box is entirely theoretical and nobody’s seen it. It seems impossible, but maybe one day you’ll find that box. That’s what the Great Problem is.

Sliver apparently having found the solution would have completely broken everything. Five Pebbles wouldn’t have ended up hurting himself and Moon had Sliver finding the solution been known with certainty. He was taking a shot in the dark.

------

“Ascension is akin to suicide.”

I strongly believe this point harms the role that ascension and the void sea play in Rain World’s narrative. Ascension is meant to be a final destination, a goal you build up to and prepare for when you’ve lived every bit of life you possible could, and can now move on.

Bringing up the Memory Crypt pearl from earlier, Seventeen Axes lived an incredibly fulfilling life from what we see, and ascended happily.

As well as this, Buddhism strongly encourages those who wish to liberate themselves to discover their own path, which is also subtly shown through the gameplay, as there are many many routes you can take to Five Pebbles, Looks To The Moon, and The Depths.

I do also think this is why Five Pebbles failed. He tried to brute force his way to ascension.

Suicide implies that ascension is only meant to be a fruitless escape and that it’s wrong to ascend. I… do not want to go into why suicide is bad. It’s a strong topic and I’m just here to talk about video games. But ascension is a neutral thing that you can choose to do or not do and to wait until you’re ready.

------

Conclusion...

I really only have the time to cover these 6 misconceptions, and I believe it should be enough. There have been many others I’ve seen, such as the ancients being malicious or that there weren’t any civilizations before them, but there’s not as much to say about them, and they aren’t as common.

Rain World is a very confusing game. I’m not upset at people who think these things to be true, and I do not believe they’re stupid or don’t have any media literacy. I just wish that the people who did actually cover this game did some more looking into it, and actually discussing it with Rain World fans.

Also I should say, that during this entire discussion I have avoided talking about Downpour- RW’s DLC- as it’s more of a official fanmade project. And so much of what it says may not be entirely in line with Vanilla. Because my life isn’t easy and of course there has to be an incredibly divisive and confusing thing like this that I need to avoid bringing up so that way the conversation isn’t muddled.

Thanks if you managed to make it through all this by the way