#I'm very proud of the final product though

[ferronickel]

A very late Birthday + Christmas present for @gen-is-gone based on The Year of Intelligent Tigers by Kate Orman

I designed it to function as an alternate cover for the book as well!

[memento-morri-writes]

It's been well over a week now (maybe two??) but I'm still plugging away (ever-so-slowly) at this vignette about Zara and Rook. Zara's POV is a lot of fun to write, now that I have a better sense of her character. Writing this has really solidified in my mind the kind of person she is and how she acted when she was Rook's captain and mentor. She's very calm and collected in comparison to Rook, even when under a lot of stress.

Anyways, have a little snippet that I'm proud of from today, featuring the origins of the coin trick!

Pacing back and forth across her cabin floor, she rolled the coin back and forth over her knuckles again and again. The motion was easy, almost mindless, more muscle memory than real intent. The coin trick had been her favorite way to soothe her nerves for years now. She’d picked it up out of idle curiosity after watching a street performer dining in a tavern in Bon Largo, who had chatted with her for over an hour as she fretted about something mundane, never once dropping the coin from their fingers. The same performer had later tried to steal her coin purse and ended up with nothing but a new scar for their trouble, but Zara had learned two important things from the encounter: Not to trust a warm smile and a pretty face, and that keeping her hands moving kept her mind from dwelling too much on worrisome things.

one-time tagging @space-writes because they commented on my tags about Rook learning the coin trick from Zara in one of my other snippets from this piece.

[thatfandomslut]

Take Me, I'm Yours

Regina George x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Trigger Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, 18+. Fingering (Reader receiving), oral (Regina receiving), use of strap (Reader receiving), nipple play (Regina receiving) power bottom Regina George, passive top Reader, car sex, rough sex.

Request:

Pleasssseemore of Regina George/rene smut

Synopsis:

College!AU where the Reader is in Theatre and she plays Juliet in Romeo and Juliet. Also, Reader is an English major who very playfully and casually quotes dirty things in Shakespeare play and sonnets. Which Regina secretly loves.

Mean Girls requests are open.

Even though Regina was (Y/n)'s girlfriend, Cady and Janis found it surprising when she found herself a seat beside them to watch the school production of 'Romeo and Juliet.' (Y/n) was going to play the lead, Juliet, while her friend, Marco, was to be Romeo. If this was high school, Regina would have refused to show her face at a function such as this, but this was college. Plus, Regina was excited to see (Y/n) perform. She knew just how much (Y/n) loved the work of Shakespeare. She loved it to the point that she would bring it into any conversation they were having if possible.

As the theatre grew dark the curtains lifted revealing a narrator, speaking about fair Verona. Regina leaned close to Cady, who was sitting beside her. "When does Juliet come in?" She questioned softly, trying to keep her voice a whisper. She really wished she could fast-forward all of the parts that (Y/n) wasn't in. She began to wonder if that was rude of her, but she stayed in place, waiting for an answer. After all, she came for one reason, and one reason only, to see the star of this show: her girlfriend.

Cady glanced over at Janis before leaning towards Regina in order to respond. "She's going to enter with her nurse. It'll be a little while. Just sit back and enjoy." Cady told her, gaining a slight side-eye. Still, Regina listened, leaning back in her seat as she tried to understand what they were saying on stage. They were using the old English version. There were a few words and phrases she was catching onto due to (Y/n), and her infinity of saying little Shakespearean phrases whenever she was excited or whenever she wanted to have sex (which was a bit off-putting at first, but Regina found it cute).

"Nurse, where is my daughter? Call her forth to me." Regina sat up slightly, hoping that this would be the scene that was finally revealed (Y/n). She was able to identify the fact that the woman speaking was a Capulet due to her red dress. (Y/n) had explained one night that Capulets wore red while Montagues wore blue. This was so the audience could tell who was who on stage. Right now, Regina just felt incredibly intelligent for knowing this fact and it made her smirk to herself slightly as she awaited (Y/n) to eventually show up.

Just as Cady said, it was the nurse who appeared first, looking frantic. "Now, by my maidenhead at twelve year old, I bade her come.—What, lamb! What, ladybird! God forbid. Where’s this girl? What, Juliet!" She called out, and Regina felt herself grow in excitement. Anytime she attended any of (Y/n)'s performances, she felt like she could barely sit in her seat when she had the feeling (Y/n) was about to appear on stage. She just loved seeing (Y/n) shine, and it was clear that the stage was where (Y/n) belonged. Regina would move to New York so (Y/n) could star on Broadway if (Y/n) asked.

Regina burst into a proud grin as (Y/n) entered the stage, her hair curled as she looked at her nurse. "How now, who calls?" It was her opening line, and now that play that was boring Regina had her hooked. One could argue that it was because (Y/n) was Regina's girlfriend that Regina had a newfound interest in the play, and Regina could not argue against that. She wouldn't dare to. Not when (Y/n) looked so beautiful on the stage. Cady and Janis looked over at Regina, who was now leaning forward, clearly interested. The action made Janis shake her head with a grin as she found Cady's hand and took hold of it.

After the play, Regina left briefly to retrieve the bouquet of roses she had bought from her car. As (Y/n) departed from the back, now wearing leggings and a sweatshirt with their college's name embroidered on the front, she ran into Regina's arms. "Hey, baby," Regina greeted as her arms wrapped around (Y/n). She was careful to not crush the flowers as she pulled away to kiss (Y/n). This action was quickly reciprocated. "You did so good up there. I got these roses for you." Regina said, passing the bouquet over to (Y/n) who lit up over the fact Regina brought her flowers.

"I'm glad you thought so. I was so nervous you wouldn't enjoy the performance. Normally, the school does more of the modern plays, but I suggested a classic. I wanted Hamlet, but this one is just as exciting. And! Thank you for the flowers." (Y/n) felt her cheeks turn red as she rambled on, Regina leading her to the car to drive them back to their apartment. "I'm sorry for rambling, I'm just really excited you enjoyed it."

Regina opened the door for her, kissing her cheek softly. "Don't apologize for rambling, my love. It's cute. And, how could I not enjoy it when you did so fucking fantastic tonight. You're born for the stage." Regina complimented as (Y/n) settled in her seat. She closed the door before heading to the driver's seat. Despite being the obvious bottom, little spoon between the two, she is not the passenger princess. She just enjoyed driving and having a sense of control over what she was doing. Even as a bottom, she commanded (Y/n) what she wanted and how she wanted everything done.

"Can I share something about another Shakespeare play, or are you all Shakespeared out?" She questioned curiously, looking over at Regina, who shook her head in a way to allow (Y/n) to continue. In response, (Y/n) straightened herself up as she cleared her throat. The action caused Regina to eye her suspiciously knowing some kind of dirty quote might come out of her sweet and almost innocent (if it wasn't for the Shakespeare filth quotes) girlfriend. "In Hamlet, when Ophelia says to him, 'You are keen, my lord, you are keen.' She meant that he was, well, horny. In response, he says, 'It would cost you a groaning to take off my edge.' Regina, I am keen."

A giant smirk twisted the edge of Regina's lips on her usual 'serious driving' face. Looking over for a brief moment, she had to bite down on the ever-growing upturning of her lips. "After seeing you on stage, I am 'keen,' too." She responded, causing (Y/n) to look over with a grin. "Isn't this the part where you say your Hamlet quote to me?" Regina teased as parked in her parking spot, her teeth still tugging at her bottom lip, wishing that it was (Y/n)'s bottom lip they were tugging on instead.

(Y/n) leaned back into her spot, unbuckling so she could turn to Regina more comfortably. "You're right, how rude of me not to respond properly. Regina, 'it would cost you a groaning to take off my edge.'" She said softly before moving the roses to the backseat carefully. Once she faced Regina, and the blonde had unbuckled, Regina's hands were slipped into (Y/n)'s leggings while (Y/n)'s hands were pushed up into Regina's shirt. They've both been here before, ravaging each other in their car as if they couldn't get caught.

Regina was quick in her actions to rub (Y/n)'s clit, wishing the girl was riding her face so she couldn't only feel how wet she was for her, but there was a chance she could taste it, too. However, the moan that had escaped (Y/n)'s lips made her forget her wish as she began to allow two fingers to slip in between the lips of (Y/n)'s pussy, teasing her momentarily. "Please, princess," (Y/n) whined pitifully, and Regina slipped her fingers in at the request. Anything for her future favorite Broadway star, right? The glass slowly began to fog as (Y/n) moaned in pleasure as she successfully unclasped Regina's bra from under her shirt, making Regina's nipples more accessible to her fingers. As (Y/n) cried out in pleasure because of Regina's fingers, Regina herself began to moan as (Y/n)'s fingers pinched and played with her hardened nipples.

It wasn't long before (Y/n) felt herself grow closer to her orgasm. "Regina, please, I'm so close." (Y/n) whimpered as her lips found Regina's the car windows around them were officially fogged. Normally, Regina would make her beg for her orgasm. But tonight was (Y/n)'s night, so anything she wanted, she was going to get. (Y/n) moaned loudly as Regina allowed her to cum on her fingers, the girl arching her back, her legs shaking slightly. A string of curses fell from her lips, but Regina could only focus on how pretty the girl's lips were.

Regina helped (Y/n) ride out her high before removing her fingers and sucking them clean. "Let's go inside, baby. I'll get you all cleaned up and we can watch a movie." Regina said softly as (Y/n)'s breathing became more leveled. She fixed her bra by just removing it from under her shirt, not caring if anyone saw her carry it into her house. Leaning over, she pressed a soft kiss to (Y/n)'s forehead, grabbing the roses from the backseat.

"Or, when we get inside, I can undress you, and eat you out." (Y/n) said, her words unusually bold, her voice still scratchy from her moans. Her chest was still heaving despite her catching her breath, but presumably because she was nervous and starting to breathe quicker once more. She expected Regina to say no because they typically did it in Regina's way. Which (Y/n) usually loved. She still wanted Regina to have control, but for a moment, she wanted to be the bold one. "I need to taste you, princess."

Her words caused a shiver to spread down Regina's spine as she glanced back with a smirk. "Okay, baby, let's do it then. Take me to the bedroom, and eat me out until I can't take it anymore." Regina leaned in, pressing a hungry kiss to (Y/n)'s lips before they pulled away, practically rising to their apartment. Their clothes were scattered on the apartment floor, but the roses were put neatly on the counter. As Regina fell backward onto the bed, she looked up with a smirk. "Take me, I'm yours." She whispered as (Y/n) kissed her deeply. The kiss was messy and their teeth clashed together as their tongues fought for dominance before (Y/n) pulled away.

(Y/n) left wet, bruising kisses down Regina's body, just the way the blonde liked it as she reached Regina's pussy. It wasn't long before (Y/n)'s tongue swirled along Regina's clit as she began to suck. Regina's back arched instinctively as she moaned loudly. When (Y/n) moved to begin eating Regina out as if she was her last meal, her finger took her tongue's place on her clit. "Fuck, baby, just like that." Regina's hands cupped her breasts, needing to do something with her hands as (Y/n)'s tongue swirled in her. Regina felt her heartbeat thrumming in her chest as (Y/n) made her forget her own name for a moment.

As Regina found herself growing closer, her legs began to shake as her moans came out more frequently. Her back arched more as she subconsciously began to grind on (Y/n)'s tongue. She loved the feeling of (Y/n)'s tongue and she knew soon their tastes would mingle when they kissed. "I'm so close, baby," she cried out to (Y/n), her hips stuttering, as she tried to hold herself back, wanting (Y/n) to tell her when to cum. It was the only time Regina relented control. It was something they both liked, holding each other's orgasms captive as they completely took away their ability to think straight.

"Cum for me, princess," (Y/n) instructed. Regina did so, crying out (Y/n)'s name. They forget if they have neighbors or not, but they don't care either. Regina's hips bucked as (Y/n)'s nose briefly hit her sensitive clit as she cleaned up all of Regina. Regina rode out her high on (Y/n)'s tongue, her eyes rolling back as she swore she could see stars. As (Y/n) finished, she kissed Regina deeply. Quickly, Regina reciprocated, mingling the taste of each other and moaning at their perfect concoction.

(Y/n) went to pull away in order to run their usual aftercare bath and to get Regina water, but the blonde stopped her. "No, I'm not done with you. If it's okay with you, I bought something you've been wanting to try." Regina was still shaky but stable enough to retrieve the strap from her nightstand. (Y/n) looked at Regina in shock as she grinned slowly. "I want you to ride me," Regina said, her voice echoing in (Y/n)'s mind.

(Y/n) swallowed thickly before she licked her drying lips. "I want to ride you, too." With the consent given, Regina began putting the harness on before inviting (Y/n) to climb on. (Y/n) grew even more wet as she did so before sliding on. The contact made pushed the harness down into Regina's sensitive clit, causing her to force herself not to buck her hips. (Y/n) moaned loudly as Regina's strap filled her up. "Oh, fuck," she cursed loudly, biting her lip. "Tell me when I can start." Her voice was shaky as she tried to wait, finding it hard as pleasure filled her up.

"You can start, baby," Regina told her before watching in amazement as her girlfriend bounced on the strap, her boobs bouncing with her. She couldn't help but moan, too at the perfect contact it made with her. (Y/n) cried for Regina, feeling like she was on Cloud 9. She was almost ashamed to say that her orgasm was coming much too quickly for her liking. But she continued to ride.

"I'm close, Regina. I'm already so fucking close." (Y/n) felt her body shake and her back arch as she grew closer to the orgasm she desperately tried to hold back. Regina moaned at her words, trying to think straight for a response. Instead, she mustered up a 'not yet' causing (Y/n) to cry out. Regina was desperate to cum with her as the two grew close. Their moans mingled in the air as (Y/n) took all of the length in proudly. She was beginning to wonder if she could resist this orgasm as her eyes screwed closed and her head fell back. Sweat beaded on her forehead before she finally heard Regina say it.

"Cum, baby. I'm cumming with you," Regina told her as she released with (Y/n). Their lips fell together, causing them to swell. (Y/n) stayed for a long moment on the strap as she shook in pleasure, bouncing every now and again to ride out her high. The action caused them both to moan every time. As (Y/n) removed herself, her chest still heaved. Regina kissed her softly before cleaning the strap and putting it away. "You wait here, baby. I'm going to get our bath ready and get us water."

(Y/n) couldn't refuse, her legs wouldn't allow her to walk anyways. Instead, she lay there, attempting to catch her breath as the sound of running water hit her ears and Regina grabbed her a water bottle. "You were amazing," (Y/n) complimented softly, her words barely coming out, her thoughts still trying to become coherent. Regina smiled over at her as they began to drink their water. "I wasn't expecting the strap, but I will say I am very grateful for it. I also liked that it was the one we picked out together." She said, activating one of their aftercare routines: talking about their time. It was important to communicate their feelings about sex.

Regina smiled over at her with a twinkle in her eyes. "I wanted to get it for you since it was opening night and you had been working so hard. I'm so proud of you, my star. And, I liked it, too." Regina pressed a kiss to (Y/n)'s cheek. "Now, let's go get in that bath before it overflows," Regina said with a teasing smile. She helped (Y/n) to the bath where they soaked their bathtub wine in a bath full of bubbles. It was the perfect end to a perfect day for the both of them.

[glossdebut]

take a bite | MYG ★ 5

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you’re finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off… Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You’ve accepted the fact that romance isn’t for you, under any circumstances. You won’t risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you’ll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: SMUT, sexting, i guess a little bit of exhibitionism? not really but if we're splitting hairs, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, COMPLICATED FEELINGS! MEN NAMED KEVIN! YIJEONG?????

✧ WORDCOUNT: 7.4k (jesus christ)

✧ STATUS: complete

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: TAKE A BITE 5 IS HERE!!!!!!!!! this chapter was ALMOST written in a planet fitness, but it wasn't. this chapter is also almost ENTIRELY smut, but the smut is important to the plot so leave me alone! i'm sorry to inform those of you that wanted more of yoongi's brain that this chapter is entirely reader pov, but there's a reason for that and i promise yoongi will be back before this story is complete <3

CH. 5: I Think I Need Your Help

Next time can’t come soon enough.

Since Friday night, you’ve been alternating between being super proud of yourself for being direct and asking for what you want, and being equally repulsed by yourself for the way getting what you want has made you act. 

You’ve seen Yoongi once since the night in his studio, when he was coming home after pulling an all-nighter and you were on your way out to work, like two goddamn ships passing in the night.

You were in that barely functional state post-waking up where you were shocked you were even able to get your shoes on the correct feet before walking out the door, and the mere sight of him in a short-sleeved white t-shirt had you pausing where you stood and taking a looooong look. You’re that desperate. 

And he knows it, too. Exhausted as he looked, your blatant staring didn’t go unnoticed. Mercifully, though, Yoongi didn’t say anything. Just shook his head at you knowingly, smirking to himself as he pushed his front door open and stepped inside, presumably to go crash for a few hours.

You thought, foolishly, that a byproduct of your friends-with-benefits arrangement would be an ability to relax, loosen up a little bit so you’re able to be more productive during office hours. Don’t people say that about sex? That it clears the head? Well, those people have clearly never had Min Yoongi’s head between their legs.

You are decidedly not clear headed. You are wired, wanting, finding yourself zoning out in the middle of newsroom meetings thinking about Yoongi’s hands spreading your thighs, his lips wrapped around your clit, the way he groaned into your pussy. It’s fucking distracting.

You’ve never been like this before with anyone you’ve slept with. Sex with your ex had been good, even great sometimes, but you never really thought about it until it was happening. With Yoongi, you can’t seem to think about anything else.

Meanwhile, Yoongi has been busy, on a completely different sleep schedule from you all week. He’d given you fair warning before you left his studio Friday night, wobbly-legged and fucked out. He’s working on a very important track for an upcoming artist’s debut album, he’d told you. It’s due at the end of the day Friday, and he probably won’t have time for any… extracurriculars until it’s done. 

No big deal, you’d said! Dumb bitch.

It doesn’t help in the slightest that, as you’d hoped, nothing has really changed between you and Yoongi, aside from occasional suggestive texts (mostly initiated by your horny ass!!!!!!) exchanged throughout the day, sprinkled within normal conversation. No, Yoongi has continued to be himself: sweet, considerate, kind of nerdy. Sending you links to articles he finds interesting, or funny videos, or songs that he’s had on repeat. It is driving you insane.

On Thursday afternoon, you snap.

You open your phone on your lunch break to find that Yoongi has sent you not one, not two, but three devastatingly cute cat videos, and has provided his own commentary on them.

So, obviously, you text back with what you think is the only appropriate response to that kind of behavior. 

[12:14] You: i am begging you to put your cock inside me before i lose my mind

It is by far the most direct you’ve been since Friday night, far exceeding the coy flirtation you usually go for. You place your phone face-down on your desk with a shaky hand, staring down at your sad little salad. Lunch seems impossible now, what with your heartbeat thrumming in your ears and all.

Your phone buzzes not even a minute later, twice. Which stands to reason. You wanted Yoongi’s attention, and now you’ve got it. You take a deep breath through your nose and turn your phone back over.

[12:15] Yoongi: You’re begging, huh?

[12:15] Yoongi: You’re at work, baby. Can’t focus? Need it that bad?

Um. Yes, yes you do. And the way that you can practically hear his voice right now, in your ear, teasing. Fuck. Not helping.

You pick up your phone, hiding yourself behind the monitor at your desk so nobody in the office can see how flushed you’ve become all of a sudden. You’re on your lunch, and they should mind their damn business.

[12:16] You: yes

[12:17] Yoongi: You know I can’t help you until I’m done with my track.

That’s pretty much the response you expected, but you can’t help feeling frustrated about it anyway. He can’t take a break for an hour? You’d even settle for thirty minutes!

[12:18] You: i think you can and you’re just making me wait to be an asshole

[12:18] You: which is really dumb because i can just come to your studio tonight when i get off of work and you can take a break

[12:19] You: let me ride you in your chair

[12:19] You: fuck. you don’t even have to stop working yoongi

You’re acting desperate, you know that. You know how you sound. But you are desperate, can’t help it. Yoongi opened the floodgates to over three years of pent-up sexual frustration with his stupid tongue, and now it’s his fucking responsibility to deal with it.

You watch as the bubble pops up to indicate that he’s typing, and then disappears, then reappears again. Ha. Maybe you actually got him.

[12:22] Yoongi: If you think calling me names is gonna get you what you want, you’ve got another thing coming.

[12:22] Yoongi: You can come to the studio tonight if you really want to. But I can guarantee that you’re not getting my cock.

[12:23] Yoongi: Except maybe in that fucking mouth to give it something better to do than complain.

Holy shit maybe not!

[12:23] You: oh my god

You had a feeling, of course, that Yoongi liked being in control, that he liked to guide. He had coaxed your desires out of you so sweetly Friday night, letting you tell him what you wanted, but how he did it was his choice. But this is more than guiding. He’s telling you what’s going to happen if you come over. You shift in your chair, your thighs clenching.

[12:24] Yoongi: Hey. Tell me if this is okay, Y/N.

You can practically hear the words in his voice, soft, like when he asked you to stay when Seokjin came over to cook. The stark difference between this and the texts immediately before are almost enough to make your head spin. He’s giving you an out if you’re not into this. But you are into it.

[12:24] You: yeah

[12:24] You: yes. it’s okay

[12:25] Yoongi: I need you to tell me if I say or do something you don’t like, okay? No matter what.

[12:25] You: i will

[12:25] Yoongi: Good girl.

God. Being this turned on at work feels like a crime.

[12:26] Yoongi: I’m not trying to be mean, baby. I already told you, I’m dying to fuck you. I wasn’t just saying that.

[12:27] Yoongi: But when I fuck you, I want to be able to take my time.

[12:27] Yoongi: Wanna have you in my bed and not in my studio, first of all. All spread out for me so I can see all of you.

[12:28] Yoongi: Wanna taste you again. I can’t stop thinking about how good you taste, fuck. I didn’t take it slow enough last time, didn’t get to savor it, but I’m gonna fix that. Gonna make you come with my tongue again before you even get my cock, get you nice and wet for me.

[12:29] Yoongi: Not that it takes much. Bet you’re wet right now, aren’t you? Just from this?

Oh, he’s so mean. Your thighs clench again and you chew on your bottom lip as you type, hyperaware of the way the thin fabric of your panties clings to your sex. It feels so dirty, knowing that in a few minutes you’ll have to work like this. You’ll have to talk to your colleagues like this, pretend like nothing’s amiss. You’d be lying if you said the thought didn’t turn you on even more.

[12:29] You: yeah. god, yoongi. i am

[12:30] Yoongi: Yeah. I know, baby. It’s okay. I’m gonna take care of you when I can. Gonna make you feel so good. You sounded so sweet when you came for me last time. Can’t wait to hear what kind of pretty noises you’ll make when I get to have you properly.

[12:31] Yoongi: Fuck, Y/N. If you think I don’t wish I was with you right this second you’re insane. Been dreaming about your pussy. But I wanna do this the right way.

You believe him. Even through your phone, you can feel it—that raw honesty that Yoongi always gives you. He’s been agonizing over this just as much as you have. It makes you feel a little bad, honestly, that you so wantonly distracted him like this, when he’s been working so hard this week. Maybe part of you wanted to get back at him for denying you what you wanted on Friday, but now, you realize that you’re glad he did. You want all of that, too. Everything he said, every word of it. Just because this is casual doesn’t mean you have to rush.

Maybe it’s time for you to give him a little honesty of your own.

[12:32] You: i want that too

[12:32] You: shit i have to go back to work soon but i promise i’m not trying to rush this i just…

[12:32] You: really, really want you

[12:33] Yoongi: I want you too.

[12:33] Yoongi: Soon, okay? Really really soon if I can help it.

You look up from your phone when the chime of an Outlook notification snaps you out of your bubble, directing your attention to an email from your boss. With a longsuffering sigh, you click it open. He wants to talk to you as soon as you’re available, and your salad isn’t going to eat itself, so you resign yourself to letting Yoongi get back to work.

[12:35] You: soon

[12:35] You: go back to work. that grammy isn’t gonna win itself

[12:36] Yoongi: Lmfao. Go back to work, she says, as if she didn’t just give me the most persistent boner of my life unprovoked.

[12:36] You: motivation!

[12:36] Yoongi: Motivation for me to do more inappropriate shit in my place of business, maybe. But it’s a lot sadder when I’m by myself.

[12:37] You: wowwwww pics or it didn’t happen

[12:37] Yoongi: YOU go back to work, pervert.

You do. Begrudgingly.

You quickly type an email to your boss, just a cursory, ‘There are fifteen minutes left in my lunch, and then I’ll be there. Thanks Kevin!’ Afterwards, you scarf down your lunch. And you finally watch those cat videos Yoongi sent you, which effectively tamps down your horny high enough for you not to feel icky about meeting with your boss. 

★ ★ ★

Fifteen minutes later on the dot, you’re knocking on Kevin’s door.

You like your boss well enough. As much as one can like their boss, maybe, give or take a bad day. Kevin is nice, but his name is stupid, and he certainly doesn’t live up to your expectations of what a music journalism editor would be like when you first applied to Look Here Magazine.

Foolishly, you expected someone straight out of Almost Famous: young, wears band t-shirts beneath blazers, a chainsmoker, a little bit sleazy, with music knowledge to put Nardwuar to shame. Instead, what you got is a mostly-bald, clean-cut, mid-forties guy who wears khakis most days of the week and says things like ‘circle back’ and ‘best practice.’ He’s competent, sure, and you need him to like you, absolutely, but he does make your job feel a little less cool. But who knows! Maybe Kevin rocks out on the weekends. You certainly don’t, so who are you to judge?

Kevin waves you in, and before you even have the chance to sit down, he’s dropping a bomb on you that makes you feel like your legs are going to give out beneath you.

“You’re taking charge on the Yijeong profile piece,” he says flippantly as peers over his glasses at his monitor, typing without pause.

There’s absolutely no way you just heard that right. Yijeong's profile was assigned already, to a reporter who has been at Look Here a lot longer than you. You tell Kevin as much, as if he wasn’t in the newsroom when the piece was pitched in the first place.

“Sora didn’t have enough bandwidth to juggle the profile and the reunion tour coverage, and that’s going to be on the cover,” Kevin says, without even a passing glance to you. As if he isn’t altering the trajectory of your career over a scheduling conflict. “It’s all you, kid.”

“I don’t have the contacts,” you blurt out, having mercy on your poor, wobbly legs as you sit down.

“Ask Sora for the contacts.”

“Don’t you want someone more experienced for this? Connected?”

It’s not that you don’t want it. Writing a profile on someone like Jang Yijeong is a dream come true for someone as green as you are. It may not be the cover article, but the headline will be written on the cover, and so far you’ve only written the puff pieces that readers likely use to pad outgoing mail. If you do this right, there’s a chance of less puff pieces and more real journalism.

It’s the if that scares you. Jang Yijeong has rebranded his entire career from being an idol to being a producer, so he’s technically considered an up-and-coming artist where Look Here is concerned. Nobody has heard his name in a few years, and a piece on him by a publication like Look Here could make him the most sought after producer in the country, if he plays it right. 

But Yijeong has also been in the music industry for a long time. He’s been interviewed by countless reporters. He’s media trained. Good media training is a death sentence for profiles, which are supposed to dig deep into the subject. Trust is everything in this kind of situation, and if Look Here sends a rookie like you to interview Jang Yijeong without the proper connections, without someone to vouch for you, he will show up to the interview with a script in hand. The profile will be a dud and your career will pay the price.

Sighing, Kevin finally stops typing, looking at you for the first time since you walked into his office. You shift in your seat, trying to make yourself look less fucking terrified.

“Look, I could hand it off to someone else, but you’ve been doing a good job these past couple of weeks. In your interview, you told me you’re most interested in writing features. That you’re good at it. I’m throwing you a bone,” he says, and you take a shaky breath. “Take the piece. Don’t try to reinvent the wheel. You’ve written profiles before, you know what to do. Just ask good questions, don’t be stiff, and you’ll be fine.”

Kevin’s phone rings, and his attention is stolen again as he picks it up to answer it without a second thought. “Talk to Sora, and then take the day out in the field tomorrow to see what kind of background you can dig up,” he says, waving you out with the same indifference he waved you in with. You scramble to stand up, rushing to leave.

“Deadline is Wednesday!” he calls as you shut the door behind you, taking a moment to catch your breath before you try to find Sora.

Holy shit.

You have work to do.

★ ★ ★

You spend your entire day on Friday pounding pavement, milking all of Sora’s sources for what they’re worth, but you don’t learn any information about Jang Yijeong that you can’t find on his Wikipedia page.

You don’t give up easily, though. No, you plan to put your investigative reporting skills to good use, via a healthy session of social media stalking. You can find out a lot about someone from what they post on X and Instagram, after all. You have to reach out to Yijeong’s label to schedule an interview as soon as possible, and if you have to get your hard hitting questions based off of what you can glean from a meal he photographed in 2013, so be it.

It’s ten at night by the time you flop onto your bed, phone in hand, ready to pull an all-nighter and plunge yourself into the rabbit hole that is Jang Yijeong’s social media. Pepper hops up with you, curling up on your stomach and purring contentedly as you start scrolling.

Nearly two hours and ten possible interview questions later, your phone buzzes in your hand. It’s Yoongi.

[11:47] Yoongi: Are you coming over or not?

Oh, fuck. It’s Friday. Meaning Yoongi is done with his track.

You’d almost forgotten how horny you’d been for the past week, completely absorbed in your assignment. It stands to reason that as soon as Yoongi is free, you’re suddenly swamped with work of your own. But, of course, it all comes rushing back just from a text.

Whatever! You’ve been at it for hours, anyway. You deserve a break.

[11:49] You: when did you get home?

[11:49] Yoongi: About half an hour ago.

[11:50] You: hmmmm… did you take a shower?

[11:50] Yoongi: Obviously. I’ve been in the studio for most of the week. I’m not an animal.

You snort to yourself, which scares the shit out of Pepper after your complete silence for the past two hours. You’re suddenly proud that you had the foresight to take a shower of your own when you got home from interrogating people all day, although this wasn’t on your mind at the time. 

[11:50] You: leave the door open?

[11:51] Yoongi: Will do.

You very carefully nudge Pepper off of your stomach, giving yourself a cursory glance in your mirror once you’re up. You make sure that your hair looks good at least, but your clothes don’t matter as much. It’s not like they’ll be on for long anyway.

Satisfied with what you see, you make your way through your apartment, grabbing your keys to lock your door on your way out.

Maybe it’s the workload that was dumped on you yesterday, but you feel much more level headed about this than you thought you would. It’s like your body has finally caught up with your brain, and you can recognize this part of your relationship with Yoongi for what it actually is: stress relief. You’ll go to his apartment, he’ll give it to you so good, and then you’ll go back to work and he won’t care because, like he told you before, he gets it. You’re giddy just thinking about it.

Walking into Yoongi’s apartment isn’t daunting, nor is locking the door behind you. Nor is finding him on his couch and climbing into his lap without even a hello, crushing your lips to his the way you’ve spent all week dreaming about.

Yoongi makes a surprised noise against your mouth, his hands hovering at your waist, but he quickly melts into the kiss, letting you take the lead for a moment as his hands find their place, pulling you closer. It’s only when you tease the seam of his lips with your tongue, silently requesting entry that he pulls back, forcing you to breathe.

“Hi,” he says, clearly amused by your enthusiasm.

“Hi,” you parrot back, grinning.

His hands slip from your waist to your hips as he looks you over, toying with the fabric of your sleep shorts. “Remember what we talked about yesterday?” You hum coyly, guiding his hand under the hem, which makes him huff, shaking his head with a smirk. “Wanting to do this the right way,” he reminds you, quickly removing his hand from where you led it, instead opting to smooth it over the curve of your ass.

“Easier said than done,” you reply, feeling bold enough to take the initiative that he won’t and sliding your hands under his shirt, running them over his abdomen. The fabric bunches up, and you can’t help but stare at the tantalizing inch of pale skin you’re rewarded with.

You gasp in surprise at the light spank Yoongi gives your ass in return, not nearly hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough for you to pull your hands away. You know a warning when you see one—or feel one, that is. When you look up at him, he’s raising an eyebrow at you.

“Thought you said you wanted it like that,” he hums, rubbing over where he smacked you. “There’s always the alternative.”

Oh. That.

You wish you could say the thought of letting Yoongi fuck your throat wasn’t appealing, but there’s no hiding the way it makes you squirm, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. Yoongi hasn’t been particularly rough with you yet, but he’s hinted that he can be, if you want it. You imagine his hand on your jaw, encouraging you to open wider for him. Your eyes watering as you struggle to breathe through your nose. You still don’t know what his dick looks like, how thick it’ll feel on your tongue, how much your jaw will ache, but you’re eager to fill in the blanks of your imagination. You’ll definitely take him up on that one day, but no, he’s right. 

You want to come. You want him to make you come. As stubborn as you are, you can’t deny that.

“You can take your time,” you mumble, meeting his eyes. 

He smiles, bringing his free hand up to cup your face, his thumb rubbing your cheek like it did that night in his studio. “Good girl,” he murmurs, rewarding you with a sweet kiss that makes you moan, shifting your hips to grind against the bulge you feel stiffening under you. 

Yoongi pulls away from your lips with a chuckle, patting your hip gently. “Up,” he says, and you scramble to your feet, no more bratty attitude to be found at the moment. 

He stands with you, guiding you by the hand to his bedroom. Since he’s so adamant about taking his time, you take a moment to glance around the room, taking in all the little things about it that reflect what you’ve learned about Yoongi over the past several weeks.

Like the rest of his apartment, his bedroom is much cleaner than you would’ve assumed. There’s a desk with a small home studio setup, much more sparse than what you’ve seen in his actual studio. The equipment looks old and well-loved, and you wonder how long he’s had it. A basketball jersey hanging over his desk chair with his name emblazoned on the back. A dresser with various jewelry scattered on top, chains and rings and earrings. 

His bed, of course, takes up the most space in the room. Where you have a queen bed in your own bedroom, you note that his is clearly a king, with a soft looking black comforter over top. A comforter that you’re about to be pressed into, you think. 

Yoongi comes up behind you, his hands on your waist, lips on your neck trailing kisses over your nape and making you shiver.

“Relax,” he murmurs, huffing a laugh that you feel more than hear. “Lie down for me?”

You nod, walking to the bed and settling flat on your back. God, is this a Purple mattress? You hate him a little bit. You found your mattress on the side of the road.

Yoongi doesn’t give you long to stew on your hatred, though. Not when he’s spreading your legs, your feet planted flat on the mattress beneath you so he can fit his hips between your thighs. Not when you can feel how hard he is already, even through the layers separating you.

He kisses you again, long and slow and hot, all of your breath leaving your lungs at the feeling of his lips on yours. “Remember to stop me,” he mumbles between kisses. “If I do something you don’t like.”

You honestly find it hard to believe that Yoongi could do anything you wouldn’t like, but you nod your head jerkily in response, not wanting to separate from his lips for any longer than necessary.

Soon, he’s pressing open-mouthed kisses down your neck as his hands push your shirt up slowly, only separating himself from you to pull it off entirely and toss it aside on the mattress.

“Fuck,” he groans at the discovery that you aren’t wearing a bra, his hands immediately coming up to squeeze your breasts. “Wanted to make it easy for me, huh, baby?” 

In reality, you’d just been dressed for bed, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him that, unable to form the words as his lips travel down to your chest, his tongue coming out to lave over a nipple.

You moan, your head falling back onto the mattress under you with a dull ‘thunk’ as Yoongi wraps his lips around the sensitive bud and sucks, your hands flying up to tangle in his hair.

“You like that,” he teases, a statement and not a question. He lifts his head, looking down at your tits with his bottom lip between his teeth. “So pretty, baby.” 

Your cheeks flush warmly at the praise, and desperate to shift the attention away from yourself, your hands slide down to his chest, fisting in his shirt and tugging.

“Your turn,” you breathe, and he chuckles as he sits up on his knees, tugging his shirt over his head.

You can’t help but stare. It’s not that you thought that Yoongi would be skinny, per se, but he does have a tendency to wear clothes a little too big for him, dwarfing him, and given his already small stature due to his height… Not that you would’ve minded in the slightest if he was on the scrawnier side, but Christ. He’s decidedly not scrawny. He’s lean, with shoulders broader than you would’ve given him credit for at a passing glance. 

And now here you are, gifted with an expanse of pale, smooth skin over compact muscle. Your eyes roam over him, from dusky nipples all the way down to the thin trail of dark hair starting right under his navel and leading your gaze down to where his cock strains against his sweatpants.

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to touch somebody so badly in your life. The best part is that you can.

And you do. You feel greedy, your hands reaching out to smooth over his chest, down his abdomen, your eyes half-lidded and lips parted in a daze. 

Yoongi lets you touch all you want, but when your hands move down to cup his erection through his sweatpants, you hear his breath hitch as he stops you, shaking his head and pinning your arm to the mattress gently.

“Your turn,” he murmurs softly, throwing your words right back at you. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, tilting his head at you as he starts to pull them down, the movement torturously slow. “Wanna see if you skipped the panties, too.”

You lift your hips so he can pull them down the rest of the way. You are not, in fact, wearing panties, because you were going the fuck to sleep originally, and you hear him suck in a breath after the shorts are discarded.

“What the hell did I do to deserve you?” he breathes. You ignore the funny thing your heart does in your chest at his words, opting instead to focus on his hand drawing closer to you.

You both moan when his fingers slide over you, finding you soaked once again.

“Fuck,” Yoongi hisses as he gathers your slick with his fingers. He drags them slowly up to your sensitive bundle of nerves and circles around it, only to slide back down again, repeating the motion again and again. You moan every time he reaches your clit, your hips bucking up into his touch.

“This pussy,” he starts, and you lift your head at sudden motion as he sinks down to lay on his stomach, holding himself up with his elbows, “gets so fucking wet for me.”

His pupils are blown as he hooks your legs over his shoulders, just like last time, but instead of going right for it, Yoongi starts pressing kisses to your thigh. Your head falls back onto the mattress again, and you squeeze your eyes shut as he continues to speak. 

“Been thinking about this all week,” Yoongi mumbles into your skin, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, forcing a gasp out of you. “You make it impossible to focus, you know that?”

A high, needy whine falls from your lips as he suddenly runs the tip of his tongue between your folds, and when you lift your head to watch, he pulls away, his dark eyes meeting yours in a smoldering gaze.

“I could’ve been done with that track on fucking Tuesday,” he says, dipping down again to wrap his lips around your clit and suck, making you cry out, tangling your fingers in his hair again. “Do you know how many times I jerked off thinking about being between these thighs again?”

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you whimper, his words conjuring images that make you feel as though you’re coming apart at the seams. Yoongi chuckles darkly, pressing a kiss to your clit.

“Yeah, that’s my girl,” he praises, his tone so dark it sends a shiver down your spine. “Gonna make you say my name like that again, baby. You want it?”

“Yes,” you gasp out without a second thought. You need his mouth on you so bad you feel like you’re going to explode. “Shit, please.”

“So polite.”

Yoongi doesn’t make you wait any longer, his head dipping back down again so he can taste you properly, the flat of his tongue licking slowly over your pussy.

“Thank you,” you moan, the words slipping out completely outside of your control. Yoongi’s movements pause for just a fraction of a second, and suddenly you’re overwhelmed with the worry that ‘thank you’ was a fucking weird thing to say to the guy eating you out. But then you feel Yoongi’s responding moan right into your cunt, the vibrations making your eyes roll back into your head, and his tongue resumes its movements. 

True to his word, he’s taking his sweet time, savoring every bit of you, but you don’t fucking care. You want his cock, desperately, but he can stay down there for hours if he really wants to so long as it feels like this.

You lose track of time, your thighs trembling around his head as you lose yourself in the feeling of his tongue, but you’re quite literally yanked back into the moment when Yoongi lifts his head again, forcefully dragging you closer and latching his lips around your clit. 

“Fuck, fuck—Yoongi, fuck!” you cry out as Yoongi makes it abundantly clear that he’s no longer interested in dragging this out any longer. The way he’s eating you out now is going to make you come, and soon. 

You can hear the wet, filthy sounds of his mouth on you, even over the blood pulsating through your ears, even over the way you’re moaning for him as your orgasm barrels closer. 

Your fingers pull at his hair, your hips shifting to grind against his tongue, and he moans into you again, his hands grasping at your hips to help you move. You take the action for what it is: he wants you to come. Like, now. Well, he doesn’t have to fucking tell you twice.

For the second time, you come from Yoongi’s tongue, writhing beneath him as you moan helplessly. Your body feels like it’s on fire, your muscles clenching and unclenching as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly. 

Yoongi works you through it, but unlike last time he can sense your impending overstimulation before you need to push him away, shifting to sit up on his knees as you catch your breath. 

“So fucking sexy,” he grunts, running his hands over your body as his eyes trail over you appreciatively. 

Shit, he’s one to talk. He looks so hot like this, his hair a mess from your pulling, his lips and chin slick from your pussy. 

Not to mention, just like last time, he’s so fucking hard. The only difference is that this time, he’ll let you have it.

“Wanna touch you,” you breathe, already pushing up shakily to slide your hand beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. Yoongi makes no move to stop you, his breath hitching as your hand wraps around him.

His length feels thicker than you expected in your hand, your mind instantly wandering to how it’s going to feel inside of you very soon. You don’t think you’ve ever taken something this thick before, and you want it so fucking bad.

“Shit, baby, just like that,” Yoongi grits out as you start pumping him slowly, his hips bucking forward into your hand. “Feels so good.”

You lean up to capture his lips with yours, tasting yourself on his tongue as the kiss quickly turns sloppy and desperate, lacking all finesse but somehow still so goddamn sexy. All the while, you keep touching him, his breath coming out shaky through his nose as he licks into your mouth with heat. 

When your grasp on his cock gets a little firmer, his hips stutter and his hand comes up to grasp your wrist again, urgently halting your movements.

“Gotta stop. ‘m gonna come if you keep doing that,” he says, pulling away. There’s a flush in his cheeks, spreading down to his chest. It’s almost cute, but then he opens that fucking mouth again, his eyes locked on yours. “Wanna come inside you.”

Fuck.

“Yeah,” you breathe in agreement, nodding jerkily and pulling your hand from his pants in an instant. “Want that. Fuck me.”

Yoongi groans, his eyes shutting tightly. He shakes his head. “Need a minute,” he says, his voice almost pained. “Fuck, you’re too much.”

He busies himself with reaching over your body and across the bed, pulling open the drawer of his bedside table. You keep your hands to yourself, ignoring the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch again. If he needs a minute, he can have it. You’ve waited this long.

Once his body returns to yours, he tosses a condom next to you on the bed before dipping down to kiss you again. His lips are gentle on yours this time, slow and almost sweet, unlike any way he’s kissed you so far. The chasteness of it throws you off, but it isn’t necessarily unwelcome—not from Yoongi, at least. He’s probably just trying to chill the fuck out so he doesn’t come too fast, you reason.

After a few minutes, though, Yoongi’s lips part from yours and he presses one last kiss to your temple, reaching for the condom beside you.

“Ready?” he asks, the edge of the foil packet held between his teeth as he sits up, using both hands to push his sweatpants down.

Your eyes are glued to him as he rips the packet open carefully, rolling the condom onto his cock. Your imagination never would’ve done him justice. The sight of his long fingers wrapped around his length is enough for your last thread of patience to snap.

“I think I’m going to die if you don’t fuck me right now,” you say honestly, your eyes unmoving from his cock, and he laughs, sliding a hand up your thigh.

“Dramatic,” he teases, his fingers trailing over your pussy, ensuring that you’re still wet enough to take him. “You think you’re ready for it?” he asks, two fingers prodding at your entrance before they start fucking into you easily. 

You whine, your back arching as his fingers scissor inside your pussy. “Can’t wait anymore,” you gasp out, and he relents, withdrawing his fingers to wrap them around his cock, shifting so he’s over you again.

“Okay, okay,” he murmurs, the tip of his nose grazing yours at this proximity. You feel the blunt head of his cock running through your folds, one last tease, before he lines himself up with your entrance. “I’ll take care of you, baby. Promise.”

Your legs wrap around his hips as he slowly eases in, his breath shuddering next to your ear as he fills you bit by bit. The stretch makes your head spin, but Yoongi takes his time just like he promised, rubbing your hip soothingly to keep you relaxed.

“Finally,” you breathe when he finally bottoms out, and he laughs.

“Yeah? Gonna thank me again?” Yoongi jokes, but the way his cock twitches inside you betrays the way he really feels about that.

“Maybe when you make me come,” you quip in return, but his hips draw back, giving an experimental thrust back into you, and suddenly nothing is all that funny anymore.

You both moan, and Yoongi trails his nose up the side of your neck as he does it again, setting a rhythm of long, slow strokes.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes, the wrecked sound of his voice sending a flare of arousal through you, causing your walls to clench around his cock. “You feel so good.”

All you can do is moan in response, your arms looping around his shoulders, hands in his hair. “Squeezing me so fucking tight,” he grits out, fucking into you just a little bit faster, a little bit deeper.

“Like that,” you gasp out, fingers tightening in his hair out of desperation.

“Yeah?” he groans, snapping his hips into you with more force now. “You want it harder, baby?” At your choked ‘yes’, it’s like a switch has flipped, Yoongi’s hips snapping into you so forcefully you see stars, your thighs beginning to shake on either side of him as he slams into you.

His hands smooth up your thighs, deep thrusts continuing uninterrupted as he positions your legs, pinning your thighs between your bodies so you’re practically folded in half, and oh, fuck. The angle change makes the head of Yoongi’s cock hit the spot that makes you cry out, your nails dragging down the length of his back as you become instantly aware that you’re going to come soon.

“Mm–Yoongi, fuck, please don’t stop—I’m so close, please—”

“Taking me so good,” he groans. “Touch yourself, baby. Make yourself come, I’m right there with you.”

You obey instantly, your hand sliding down between your bodies to rub your clit with two fingers. Your walls flutter around him, making him hiss as you teeter on the edge of your impending orgasm.

Yoongi braces himself, held up with his hands on either side of you. It’s his eyes on you, his lip between his teeth as he watches you touch yourself that finally sends you hurtling over the edge. You squeeze tightly around him as you come, your body convulsing under him as the pleasure washes over you, his name falling from your lips over and over.

“Nghh, good girl, shit,” he grunts, the rhythm of his hips instantly becoming erratic. “Fuck, Y/N. Gonna come.”

It only takes a few more thrusts before you feel Yoongi’s body tense, his cock pulsing inside of you as he spills into the condom with a groan. He drops down to his elbows carefully, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss, his lips moving languidly over yours. 

You kiss him back, but after a few moments you’re suddenly hyper aware of how… intimate this feels, kissing like this as he softens inside of you. You pull away to look up at him. “Thank you,” you say, grinning tiredly as you try to break the tension surrounding the moment.

It seems to work, because Yoongi laughs breathlessly, pulling out of you with care and shifting off of the bed to dispose of the condom. “Funny,” he says.

You take the opportunity to sit up, despite your body feeling like jelly. You don’t think you can take Yoongi cleaning you up on top of what just occurred.

“Bathroom?” you ask, heading to it when he points you in the right direction.

You clean yourself up quickly, and when you return Yoongi is, mercifully, dressed again and retrieving your shorts from the floor for you. You take them with a small, grateful smile, pulling your shorts and top back on.

“So you got your track done?” you ask, trying to make some light conversation.

Yoongi scoffs, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Few hours ago,” he says, tilting his head and looking at you a little funny. Whatever he’s thinking, though, he doesn’t say it. “How was your week, anyway? I know I was a little M.I.A.”

You brighten the slightest bit at his question, joining him on the bed. “Actually,” you say. “Something pretty cool happened yesterday afternoon.”

“Yeah?”

“I kind of got entrusted with this huge assignment. I don’t know if I’ll be able to pull it off, but if I do, it’s a career changer, for sure.”

“Oh yeah?” he says, grinning at you. “That’s great, Y/N. You deserve it.”

His praise makes you blush, looking down to pick at a loose thread on his comforter. You only blush because you know he means it. Yoongi actually reads your stuff. Rina doesn’t even really read your stuff, and she’s your best friend. But maybe it’s because Yoongi is in the music industry and the stuff you publish is more interesting to him.

Yoongi is in the music industry.

It’s like a lightbulb goes off in your head, and you shift closer to him.

“Actually,” you say. “I’m kind of struggling with it? And I was wondering, um… I’d really appreciate it if you could help me out a little bit. Do you happen to know Jang Yijeong?”

Yoongi stiffens next to you, not a lot, but enough for you to notice from this close. “Yeah, I know him,” he says anyway. “We’re friends.”

You’re confused by his reaction, but you soldier on. “I just need an interview with him. I need someone he can trust to set me up with him so he doesn’t give me scripted bullshit, you know? And… If you could be the one to do that, it would make my life a million times easier, honestly.”

For a long moment, Yoongi says nothing, not really looking at you. You don’t know what you said to get this reaction out of him, but you don’t like it, and you’re about to take back your request entirely when he speaks again.

“Okay. I’ll talk to him,” he says. He’s looking at you now, which makes you relax a bit.

“Really?” you ask softly. “Only if you’re okay with it, but it would seriously be a huge help.”

“Yeah, I’ll put in a good word,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. He suddenly seems much less stiff, like whatever weird moment that just took place has passed now, and he laughs. “Just promise you won’t make me regret it.”

At ease, you snort, rolling your eyes. “I promise,” you say flatly, nudging his shoulder with yours. Your voice softens. “Thank you.”

“Sure,” he says easily, getting up from the bed and making his way to the door. “Have you eaten? I’m gonna make kimchijeon.”

Yoongi really is saving your ass. After fucking you so nicely, too. And now he’s making you midnight kimchijeon!

“That sounds good,” you call after him, smiling to yourself after he’s left the room.

Yeah, you can get used to this.

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[perseephoneee]

Can you do a isaac lahey imagine where the reader us on her period and freaks out and doesn't know what to do so lydia tells him what to do

hehe yes omg

period talk (isaac lahey x f!reader)

warnings: fluff, period talk, dumb boy

a/n: try the drink mentioned if you want to imagine running through hogwarts on a winter day.

↳ masterlist ↳  want to be shipped with a fic character?

Isaac wouldn't admit it, but he loved the cold weather. He liked when the winter season would hit, and holidays were a topic of conversation. Holidays were the only time his Dad treated him like he was actually proud of him, and despite that fucked up relationship, Isaac couldn't help but romanticize the season. It's why, when Beacon Hills hit a new low for the weather, he was excited to see you at school. Perhaps he could even convince you to skip class and get hot coco with him.

Unfortunately for him, your period had started therefore your mood was sour. The cold just added to your discomfort, and you basically hissed at him when he came by your locker.

"Woah, what did I do?" Isaac recoiled, a nervous laugh on his lips. You took a deep breath before turning and facing him.

"Nothing, you did nothing," you sighed. "I'm just...not doing great."

"Whats wrong?" Isaac inquired, brows furrowed and concern evident on his face. You loved your cute werewolf boyfriend, and while he was very helpful, he probably couldn't do much for you right now.

"I'm on my period," you admitted with a twinge of shame. Talking about these things was never fun, even to someone you trusted. A blush coated Isaac's cheeks as he processed what you said.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Should I, uh, do something?" Isaac stammered, hands in his pockets.

"Just be you, I'm a big girl and can handle myself," you chuckled, lightly slapping his arm as you closed your locker and started in the direction of class. Isaac stood in the hallway a moment longer, before deducing a game plan and targeting the area of the school he knew the familiar red head would be. She was typing on her phone when he ran up beside her, backpack slung lazily over his shoulder.

"I need your help," Isaac said hurridly, earning a squeak of surprise form Lydia. She set two angry eyes at him, and he resisted the urge to run away. Women did not like him much today.

"Stop sneaking up on me like that," Lydia rolled her eyes, putting her phone in her purse. "What is it?"

"Y/N is on her period, and I want to help, but I don't know what to do, and you're a girl and you're smart so I thought you'd have some ideas?" Isaac rushed, lips pressed in a thin line as Lydia cocked a brow at him.

"Why do you have to make everything so dramatic?" Lydia huffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Isaac sent her a look though that showed that he wasn't going to figure anything out, anytime soon. "Look, unless she asks for products, don't bother trying to buy her them-- you'll likely get the wrong ones anyway. Get her her favorite warm drink, a heating pad, blanket, maybe an activity or something calming."

"Drink, heating pad, blanket, activity, got it," Isaac listed out everything, brows scrunched together in concentration. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, during this time, she's always right. Even if you think she isn't, just agree that you're wrong and she's right. Otherwise, she'll claw your eyes out," Lydia crossed her arms, daring Isaac to challenge her. He stayed quiet though, and she loosened up her stance. "I have to go, have fun, don't get killed."

Isaac was never that great at social cues, but he really liked you, and that was enough. Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling taking pit in his stomach, he skipped out on school to go get the necessary things Lydia listed. Starting off with a butterbeer chai, a concoction you created (two pumps caramel, two pumps toffee, caramel drizzle, and chai); going to CVS for a heating pad and a blanket; then finally the bookstore down the street where he found a book you wanted (after searching through his phone for fifteen minutes trying to find the text where you mentioned wanting a new release). By the time he had finished his grand adventure, school was out and he would be able to surprise you.

You were having a crappy day with a side of more absolute garbage, so you were very pleasantly surprised when your golden hair boyfriend comes bounding up the street as you exit the school building.

"Woah, where's the fire?" you chuckle. You finally take notice of the bags he's carrying, as well as the drink.

"These are for you," Isaac stutters, passing you the drink. You peer in the bag and can't hide the grin on your face as you take in the plethora of supplies he got. "I know you weren't doing well, and I felt bad, so I got some stuff."

"Isaac, you are the sweetest puppy of a boyfriend a girl could ask for," you smile, wanting nothing more than to pick him up and twirl him around (he is too tall, you are too small). "How did you know what to get?"

"I asked Lydia," he mumbles, staring at his feet. You fight back a chuckle.

"Probably the smartest thing you could've done."

"That was my thought process as well," he chimes, scratching the back of his neck and shooting you a grin. You lean up, kissing him on the corner of his mouth and looping his arm through yours.

"C'mon, lets go hide from the cold together and I'll bitch to you about life," you chime, the cold dusting yours and Isaac's cheeks in shades of pink.

"Sounds perfect, just like you," Isaac smiles, kissing the top of your head as you walk off back home.

[blueraith]

What does fanfiction mean to you?

I'm asking this question because today I came across some ugly, mean-spirited, catty behavior towards a fic author that I haven't seen in a very, very long time, and I think it's important we discuss it as a community.

Y'all know how long I've been doing this? Fanfiction, that is.

Eighteen years.

I've posted across different platforms, on different handles, in different ways for a long, long time. More than half of my life at this point, from fourteen years old.

Fanfiction is how I personally engage with fandom the most. It's THE most important thing to me, frankly, because it is the common thread between each and every single fandom I have ever participated in.

It's self-expression to me. Folk art. Collaborative and fun. I truly hope that most people who engage in fanfiction learn what it is to beta for someone even if you don't write yourself. It can be a fantastic experience in and of itself. Being the backboard to someone else's ideas, watching as they take genuine joy out of spinning a story together to put onto the page, seeing it come to life before anyone else and feeling almost as proud as the author themselves after they finally post it.

It's ultimately why I decided to make this post far more positive and productive than the angry, grumpy, blood boiling rant that I initially was churning over in my mind after the horrible posts I saw earlier.

I'll detail them here purely for context because I think it's important to recognize toxic fandom behavior when we see it. And speak out when we stumble across it.

The first post lauded itself as an 'honest review' of a popular fanfiction in a community I am a part of. That honest review was nothing more than a pop-critique filled with a sort of catty, snarky write up that is so popular nowadays online purely to gain clout more than to act as actual, constructive criticism. It was unnecessary and acted as though the fanfiction author was a professional, New York Times Bestseller rather than someone devoting hours of their free time and effort into a hobby that is ultimately meant to be fun and pleasant.

The second post by the same person claimed that their friend had challenged them to write their own version of the premise of this fanfiction under a read more cut. It spent some time applying a thin veneer of so-called respect to the original author, but was merely nothing more than contempt really. I simply fail to see the need to ever do this while publicly attaching an author's name and work title and arrogantly parade your own work as superior to their own. Why tear down someone else?

I pushed back against them directly on this post, they took it down, but not before childishly trying to excuse their actions and claiming that 'if someone is publicly posting, then they should be able to handle vocal criticism.'

But you know what? One, what that person was doing was not constructive criticism. I think back to the beta session I had with a friend right after this incident and I think to myself, how sad must it be that this is what this person thinks is valuable criticism. That this is the way they chose to engage with the fanfiction community and thought they were in the right to do so.

Two, and perhaps even more importantly, people are accountable for the things that they post. The things that they say. It would have cost this person nothing to never make those posts in the first place. To never risk an author coming across a mean-spirited and malicious teardown of the work they put hours into and risk harming their self-esteem, mental health, or confidence in their own writing.

Because we do not know who these people are behind their handles. We do not know if they're new to writing. If they are experienced but going through a tough time. There are real people who write the content you choose to consume.

Fanfiction is a collaborative process. Writers provide the free content, and it is the reader's responsibility to know when their input would be valuable.

Is what you have to say helpful? Is it kind? Is it necessary?

If the feedback you want to provide does not hit at least two of those things, what you have to say does not matter. Period.

And I daresay that in the vast majority of cases, kindness should be considered mandatory out of the three.

In return, writers will often throw in ideas they've read out of reviews, they'll reach out to their most ardent followers for things like beta-ing or joining a discord server nowadays. There's always been a give and take in this community.

Fanfiction is a cornerstone of fandom for a reason. And it is particularly important in the queer community, going all the way back to actual physical magazines in which people mailed in their KirkxSpock fic decades ago. Over time we've experimented on the process, moved to countless different platforms, survived collapses of all sorts of communities, only to rally over and over again around each other to be able to tell the tales we wanted to see but were not getting as queer folk amongst mainstream media.

And in that time, it's been long agreed on in this space that you do not tear down another writer to build yourself up. Ever. Period. This has long been the only thing in fanfiction that has been aggressively policed, called out, and nipped in the bud when experienced members of this community come across it.

It will not be tolerated.

I shouldn't have to make this post, but I suppose this is the changing of the guard, so to speak. We have a new generation of fic writers and readers coming into the space daily and while so many of you are wonderful, creative, and welcomed members of this space that has been here long before me or anyone of my age, there are some who do not know how to act in the fanfiction community.

And it is up to us to make it clear in no uncertain terms that they will need to either get with program or be pushed out.

To become the best version of yourself as a writer requires hours of work, of posting again and again, of experimentation, of putting hints of your own life and experiences onto the page. The vast majority of us will never be published, and that's just fine for most of us. We engage in this hobby because of how joyful it can be to write something dear to our hearts, share it with the world, and be validated that others enjoyed the work that we put in.

Frankly, readers will always owe it to us to respect that process and work. To be respectful and kind when interacting with authors. Constructive criticism can be welcomed but perhaps ask if the author is open to it and do not take it personally if they are not. And if they are, then learn how to give it with the writer's best interest in mind rather than your own ego.

I don't ordinarily request reblogs to my posts, I rant into the void and it doesn't matter to me if anyone really interacts on an ordinary day lol. But today, I want to ask that people share this message out in your fandoms, because I will be tagging it in the fandoms I interacted in, both past and present. Because fanfiction is a common thread that unites so many of us, and I think this is an important reminder on how we need to be respectful and kind to one another in this space.

If you feel comfortable, I would also love to hear how fanfiction is important to you. How you got into it. Why you love to either read, write, or beta it.

This is hobby that is meant to be fun, so let's have fun.

[roguerogerss]

Show You How Much I Love You

Pairing: Michael Gray x Reader

W/C: 3.5k

Warnings: SMUT!!, the second half is just sex, bit of a praise kink, talk of injuries and blood (not related to the smut!)

Description: After Michael gets shot, you’ve been visiting him in the hospital every day. He has a realisation on his last day there, and when you get home, he shows you how much he’s missed you.

(took a lil break from writing tommy all the time - he will be back! promise! - and did a lil spin for michael. i’ve been OBSESSED with both of them recently. so proud of the smut in this bc it’s literally only my second full on smut!!! let me know what u think babes! b back with tommy shtuff sooooon)

—

You hated the hospital. The building always smelled of antiseptic, slightly bitter, but with the added scent of artificial fragrance contained in soaps and cleaning products. And what was worse, the smell would linger on your clothes and in your hair, even hours after you'd left, and you'd have to bathe after every time you visited, to avoid going to bed smelling like death.

"Morning, Miss L/N." The nurses had gotten to know you over the last five weeks, and they'd always greet you when you came to visit. As much as you hated the hospital, and it's smell, the nurses made your visits very slightly more bareable.

"Good morning, Margaret." You sighed, smoothing your hair down and fixing the fur collar of your coat. "How is he, today?"

"He's had some great news today, ma'am. I think you'll be delighted." Margaret smoothed a hand over your back and then hurried off, the nurses were always on the run. You wondered what news your boyfriend could possibly have gotten that would've delighted you, considering all you'd had the past five weeks was more death, upset, and terrible news.

You climbed the stairs, still fussing over your hair, and your coat, and pulling out a small, pocket mirror to fix your lipstick in. You always ended up going to the hospital dressed like a model, because Michael had told you the first time that seeing you all dressed up had been the only thing he was looking forward to.

You plucked a cigarette from your pocket, and balanced it between your lips as you reached his room, "Miss L/N! No smoking, please! It's not allowed.", You waved the nurse off.

You took a slow drag from your cigarette, filling your lungs, and then pushed the door to Michael's room open. You beamed when you saw him, standing by his bed, something he hadn't done for the entirety of his time in recovery.

He held his arms out when he saw your smile, smiling himself, as though he was presenting a gift to you. "Well?"

"Oh my God, Michael!" You ran for him, giggling as you did, and you were met with a grunt when you dived into his arms. Michael stumbled backwards slightly as he wrapped his arms around you, before regaining his balance. His chest stung in all the places he'd been shot, but he didn't care too much. You looked so happy, something you hadn't been since finding out about the mafia, and he wasn't going to take that away from you.

"Jesus." He laughed at your excitement, "I'm still sore, sweetheart."

"Sorry, I'm sorry, I'm just...You look so much better."

"I feel better. They've been doing physical therapy the past few days, getting me up on my feet, finally got up on my own today."

"Margaret told me you'd had good news, was it this?"

"This, and," He reached behind him and produced a piece of paper from the bedside cabinet. The words "Discharge Notice" were printed in black at the top of the page. "This."

You gasped, "You're getting out? Today?"

"Yes." He nodded, and you clasped a hand over your mouth, ready to squeal with excitement. Michael interrupted, grasping your wrist between his fingers, "But, love, I'd have to stay with you, so it's only if you'll have me. If it'll be too much of a bother, I can stay here-"

"Michael, don't be daft." You moved your hand from your mouth, to press each palm to Michael's cheeks. "Of course I'll have you. It'd be my pleasure."

He sighed and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close, so that your noses were touching. "Are you sure? It's not going to be pretty for the first couple of weeks. Changing bandages, cleaning bullet holes-"

"Michael." You interrupted him quickly, thumb swiping over a small, stitched scar on his cheek. "Of course I'm sure. I mean, it was only a matter of time before we moved in together, anyway, wasn't it? I suppose, it's not under the circumstances we'd like it to have been, but I want to do it."

A comfortable silence fell on the room, Michael was simply smiling, green eyes exploring yours. You ran your fingers over the new scars on his face, and found yourself frowning when you reached a particularly deep one, straight through his eyebrow. He breathed out, "I love you, so much."

You'd never heard anyone say anything with such passion, but Michael had never meant something more in his life. Tommy always spoke about feeling like you'd been pardoned by God when you should've died, and everything else being extra, borrowed time. He didn't think he could live another day without helping you to feel exactly how much you meant to him.

"I love you too, Michael." He was hardly listening to you, just thinking about things he needed to say to you.

"More than anything, you know that, don't you?" He continued. You looked at him, eyes full of concern.

"What's going on?" You were convinced there was something really wrong that he wasn't telling you about.

"Nothing's going on, my love." Michael smoothed your hair down comfortingly, chewing on the side of his lip while he thought about what to say next. "I nearly died, Y/N. I should've died, John did, and he didn't get to tell Esmé that he loved her again. I need you to know what you mean to me. Need you to know how much I love you."

He let his forehead fall against yours, sighed, and squeezed his eyes shut. Tears were threatening to fall, and he knew you'd get upset if you saw him cry. But you'd already sensed he was unsettled, and you pressed your lips to his cheek, and then to his nose, and then to his lips, he loved how loving you were.

"I'm going to show you how much I love you, how much you mean to me. As soon as I can, I'll help you around the house, I'll do everything I can for you." He clasped his hands together at the back of your neck, holding you far enough away that he could really look at you, breaths slightly shaky. "And when I'm better, really better, I mean, I want to marry you."

Your eyes widened, you supposed you might've looked scared to anyone who didn't know you too well. "Michael-"

"I'm serious. If I asked you, right now, to be my wife-"

You shook your head, a grin making it's way onto your face now. "Michael-"

"Will you marry me?" He sounded so serious. You'd spoken about getting married before, and you'd both meant what you'd said, but you hadn't expected he'd ask you so soon. You'd been together just over a year, but you were both still young, and nearly four months of your relationship had just been casual nights together.

"Are you proposing to me?" You were really smiling now. As much as you were young, and as much as you hadn't quite expected this, you were excited. Of course you wanted to marry Michael.

"If that's what you want this to be." He was smiling down at you, grasping both of your hands in his own. He’d have gotten down on one knee if he could’ve, and he felt a slight pang of guilt knowing this wasn’t quite the proposal you’d probably hoped for.

But you didn’t care. Growing up, you’d wanted a big wedding, with a big proposal beforehand, but having someone who you loved as much as you loved Michael, he could’ve proposed to you at a funeral and you’d have said yes. “Well, if that's what's happening, then yes."

"You'll marry me?" The surprise in his voice was completely unmasked. He’d had no idea you’d actually say yes.

"Yes. Yes, Michael, I'll marry you." You felt yourself doing a little jump up and down out of excitement.

"Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious!"

Michael arms were around your waist, now, picking you up from the ground and kissing you, completely ignoring the burn in his chest. Your lips always felt made for eachother when he kissed you, and this time was no different, if not even better. You hadn’t been kissing him half as much as you normally would, what with everything going on, and it almost felt desperate, needy.

"Tomorrow, I'll go out, and I'll buy you a ring, alright? Tommy owes me money, I'll use that to buy you the biggest one I can find." You laughed at Michael's excitement. "But this is official. We're engaged, love."

"We're engaged." You repeated, tears in your eyes, and let Michael take your face in his hands and kiss you again. You couldn't quite believe what had just happened - truth be told, neither could Michael - and you certainly didn't ever expect it to happen in a hospital room, but you were excited nonetheless.

"Come on, I've got all of my things packed, let's go home."

-

As soon as you stepped through the door to your apartment, you were apologising to Michael for the "state of the place". You weren't entirely used to having him round, and so felt you had to explain the little messes that you'd often leave laying around.

"Sorry, it's a bit of a mess. I've not been home too often. And it's not as big as yours, I know-"

Michael stopped you before you rambled on about how the fireplace wasn't lit, and you hadn't washed your dishes from that morning, and how you'd left all of your makeup out on the bathroom vanity because you hadn't time to put it away.

"Stop it." He soothed you, pressing a finger to your lips and looking around at your ground floor flat. It certainly wasn't much, but he actually liked your house better than his own. It was smaller, and therefore cozier, and he found the looks he got from neighbours the morning after you'd slept together funny, knowing they'd heard you screaming his name the night before. "It's perfect."

You smiled, half-heartedly, and gestured to the living room doorway, "Here, you can lay down on the sofa, and I can make some lunch. What would you like? Oh, and when do I have to change your bandages, do you remember?" You swung open the kitchen cabinet, searching through the groceries you'd bought the day before. "I'm not sure what I could make. I can go to the store, I think it should still be open-"

"Love, stop." Michael stepped closer to you, hands settling on each of your shoulders. "Just take a minute, calm down, we've got time."

"I know. I know, I just-"

"Don't." He let a hand slip down your arm and into your own, "You've said yes to marrying me today, I'm very much happy dealing with your unwashed dishes, and you can make me lunch any time, now, okay? I'm here to stay."

"Come on, fiancé." Michael grinned at you. "Lay with me, please? Missed you."

You sighed, and turned to close the cabinet door behind you. You were quick to stress yourself out, and normally you'd argue that you couldn't just lay down and forget about the things you needed to do, but you'd missed him too. "Okay."

Michael led you down the hallway and into your bedroom, he'd been here before, but you'd spend most of your time together at his house or at the office, so it felt strange having him in your bedroom. He was one to make himself at home, and today was no different. As soon as he reached your bed, the shirt that he was wearing was unbuttoned and on the floor, and he was sprawled out on top of the sheets, gesturing for you to join him.

You tried to lay down next to him, but he had other plans, hands reaching out to grip your hips and pull you on top of him, one knee on either side of his torso. "Michael!" You giggled.

"Oh, come on. I haven't had any time alone with you in over a month." His hands started to make their way under your dress, and you almost let him, until you snapped back to reality and noticed the bandage wrapped around his body.

"I know." You wanted to, you really wanted to, but you found yourself smacking his hand away before he was able to get past your thigh. "But you're still recovering."

"I'm fit enough." He raised an eyebrow at you, and you were certainly considering it. He could definitely be very convincing, when he wanted to.

"Are you sure?" You stuck your bottom lip out, pouting at him.

"I'm sure, baby." His hands found their way to your waist, and he was looking up at you with what you could only describe as hunger in his eyes, jaw clenched. He made it so hard for you to say no. "Come on, let me prove it to you. Let me show you how much I love you.”

"I don't know, Michael-"

"Please, sweetheart." He interrupted you, "Missed your body. Been so desperate for you."

Hearing him say he was desperate for you had a knot growing in your stomach. You sighed, weighing up the options you had, but ultimately deciding that you'd both be unable to think about anything else if you didn't have sex.

"Okay. Alright, but if you feel like you need to stop, you stop. Okay?"

"I will. Thank you, darling." You could feel him hardening through his trousers, and it had you biting down hard on your lips, having been waiting for this moment to come since he could sit up straight. He'd teased you while in the hospital, talked dirty, touched you every now and again, but it was hard to find a time when a nurse wasn't going to walk in and scold him for being too active, and Polly wasn't going to come in for a visit. "Now, come here."

He pushed himself up, back against the headboard, and dipped his head to connect your lips. It was fast, rough, a clash of teeth and tongue and lips, he'd missed you, and you were making it clear that you'd thought about him for the entire time he'd been in the hospital.

His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer so that you were chest to chest. He could feel his wounds burning when your torso collided with his, but the taste of your lips on his and the feeling of having you so close again quickly dissolved any discomfort he felt.

He was so needy for you, hips bucking upwards to meet yours, hands sliding down to grip your hips, you thought it was the hottest you'd ever seen him. "Fuck, Michael." You gasped out as his lips found your neck, head falling back.

He groaned at the sound of you moaning for him, he'd been waiting to touch you for so long. "Need you, pretty girl. We've got plenty of time for other things later, but I need to be inside you right now."

You didn't need to say another word, you simply nodded and helped him to unbuckle his belt while you hiked your dress up above your waist. His fingers grazed over your lingerie, and you mewled, the feeling almost too much. "Jesus, baby, you're so wet already. Haven't even done anything yet."

"Missed you so much, Michael." You breathed out, an answer to his statement, and simply a statement in itself.

"Missed you too, princess." You loved when he called you pet names.

You watched as he freed himself from his underwear, and his cock sprung up, hard and ready for you. "You're hard already." You mocked his words, and he laughed.

Neither of you wasted any time with foreplay, your panties were ripped off and on the floor with one flick of Michael's wrist, and he was lifting you off of him slightly, and guiding you back down onto his cock.

The feeling of him sliding into you again was euphoric for both of you. You hadn't had sex in more than a month, as opposed to usually being borderline sex addicts, and you knew you wouldn't last long.

You both let out pornographic moans as he bottomed out, Michael's face said it all. His mouth hung open, eyebrows knitted together, eyes wide, you were so tight, he could've came at the feeling of his cock stretching you out.

"Fuck, not gonna last long, honey." His forehead fell against yours and he screwed his eyes shut, just revelling in how good you felt around him. "Are you alright?" He asked, hand holding and stroking your waist lovingly. He was big, and you were so used to him before that you hardly needed any time to adjust, but with being away from eachother for so long, he was almost too much to handle.

"I'm okay. Give me a second. Feel so full." You were breathing heavily, shifting around. It wasn't uncomfortable as such, just a lot to take.

Michael ran his fingers through your hair, soothing you and pressing kisses to your forehead. "Taking me so well, baby. Just take your time."

"Fuck," You moaned, you loved when he was sweet to you in bed. You'd told him months ago that you thought it might've been your biggest turn on. "You can move."

Michael looked up at you, just for an extra check that you were truly alright, and, upon finding no sign that you weren't, bucked his hips up to meet yours. You almost screamed, he knew exactly what spots to hit, and he did every time without fail.

You bounced on him, his hands helping you, lifting you off of him and bringing you straight back down at new angles every time. "You feel so good, Mike."

"Fuck, good girl. That's a good girl." Michael let his forehead drop onto your collarbone, watching your tits bounce up and down. You were so beautiful, he often wondered how he'd gotten so lucky. "Tell me how good I'm making you feel."

"So, so good. Missed your cock so much. Love it so much." Your words were slightly slurred, eyes starting to droop. He loved watching you, how much of a mess you'd get, just from riding his cock.

His hands found your tits, massaging them and twisting your nipples, which always had you screaming for him, and today was no different. "Feel good?"

"Feels fucking amazing." He thrust into you at just the right angle, which had you gasping and digging your nails into his back, leaving little red half moons on his shoulder blades. "Oh, right there, Mike.”

"Shit, baby, are you close?" You were clenching around him so tightly, "Can feel it, you're close."

"I'm so close." You moaned, you were certain your upstairs neighbours would hear you, the walls and ceilings were thin, and Michael was making you yell out in pleasure.

"Me too. Almost there, sweetheart. Hang on for me." He increased his speed, making it even harder for you to hold on, and making your moans fall from your lips even louder than before.

"I don't think I can, Mike." Your legs were shaking like crazy, and you could feel his dick tensing inside of you. You needed to come so badly.

"I said hold on. You can hold it." His face was stern as he said it, dominant side coming out as he grabbed your hips and slammed you down onto him, bucking his hips at the same time. He was going to make this so good for you.

"Fuck, Michael, please." You threw your head back. You felt his cock twitch, and a loud moan come from him, he was going to come.

"Alright, baby, come. Come with me."

Your throat was hoarse from moaning as loudly as you were, but it didn't stop you from screaming his name as your walls tightened around him and you came undone. The feeling of his cum painting your insides never got old, always made you feel like you could go at least another few rounds.

"Oh my God." You panted, collapsing onto his chest as he lay back on the bed. You both lay there, breathing heavily, sweaty messes, for a few minutes. You didn't think you could move very far, your legs were shaking against him.

"Jesus, have I missed this." Michael kissed the top of your head through quick, harsh breaths.

"I've missed this so much." You agreed, heart pounding.

You lifted your head, just enough to see that there were a few speckles of blood seeping through the bandage that was wrapped around his torso. "You're bleeding, baby. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." He nodded, and reached over to your bedside cabinet to grab the small alarm clock that sat there. It read two o’clock. Michael grinned at you.

"Time to change the bandages."

[imaginespazzi]

NIVI!! Give us your postgame thoughts on Ole Miss!!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING MY LOVIES! I am thankful for that fact that I found a stream that worked last night and got to watch this game even though that 3rd quarter took years off of my life.

AZZI. FUDD. I don't think I can even begin to explain in words just how proud I am of her. Everyone has been saying that it's only a matter of time before Azzi starts to contribute (not that she didn't contribute in the Oregon State game) but Azzi didn't just contribute last night; was definitely the biggest (not the only of course) reason we won. It was a one-possession game and momentum was without a doubt on Ole Miss's side and Azzi said fuck all of that and gave UConn an 8-pt cushion all by herself. And what won't reflect on the box-score is that her scoring those points did two things: it deflated Ole Miss and it energized UConn. She was just so good offensively and defensively; just an all-around performance and I'm just so incredibly proud. And you know what the best part is? Those 3s ain't even falling yet.

Casual 29 points for the NPOY, no biggie just Paige doing Paige things except you know MY Paige doesn't normally get 5 turnovers...jk jk because honestly she only should have had 3 (still "high" for her standard but also that's what Ole Miss hangs their hat on). That 1st half and that 4th quarter were just things of beauty. That's what you need your leader to do, set the tone and then finish things off. AND SHE FINALLY GOT SOME FTS!!

Sarah looked really good in the first half and then when Ole Miss got going, she looked a little shaken in the second half, emphasis on the little shaken because it was only really in terms of scoring, she was still doing all the little things. I've seen some discourse and I personally don't want Sarah to stop taking 3s because it's not like she takes bad ones and I think they're gonna fall and we need them to fall and they're not gonna fall if she stops taking them.

JANA!! She had some clutch has hell rebounds and some much-needed shots. I thought she had a really good game and a near double-double. She just looked really energized out there and I think she's only going to get better.

Ice had a up and down game. She definitely did a couple of things that frustrated me but also made some solid plays. I would have definitely liked a couple more points and a couple more rebounds but I think the hustle, that's been prevalent the last few games, is still there.

Ash needed more shots which is partially on her but also I feel like she was getting plays ran for AND her teammates weren't doing the best job of finding her. It feels like the aggression, particularly on offense, of the first two games had dwindled a little bit and she's in a bit of a slump. Also two of Paige's 5 turnovers, probably belong to her because girl what was you doing?

We definitely need more point production from KC but I thought she had a very stabilizing presence last night and did a pretty good job running the offense in the 4th.

KK hadn't made me want to scream at her for driving into traffic and getting blocked like clockwork in a couple of games and so of course OF COURSE she had to do it last night. But I do think she matched Ole Miss's energy well and I liked that one drive she had. She needs to look to score like that more.

Which brings me back to that KC-KK discourse, I still think the KK-Paige-Azzi-Sarah-Jana/Ice lineup is our strongest but I also did really like the KC-Paige-Azzi-Sarah-Jana that we used to end the game and was I believe the prominent lineup throughout the 2nd half. So I think my general opinion is that it doesn't matter who starts because ultimately it's gonna be a opponent-driven decision and it's good to have that option.

I love Paige and Azzi and I love that they had good games but I'm ngl, looking at that box score and seeing so many people with only 2 pts did not please me at all.

Blowing leads is becoming a recurring thing and as much as I think it's good character building for this team right now because as Geno says you learn more from overcoming the Ole Miss run than if you had stretched it 30, it is a little concerning that it's a bit of a pattern. And again this is only their 5th game and it was their first true test and also ofc only their 3rd having Azzi so I'm not necessarily super worried, but it is something I'mma keep my eye on.

But overall I'm just really proud of this team. They got punched in the 3rd and they punched back and I'm hoping to see a lot more punching in the upcoming games.

[yourdailyangel]

Okay okay kinda sad but how would astarion be with a heavy pregnant s/o? I’ve been trying to have a baby for 2 years now and unfortunately I’m struggling so I need the comfort I understand if you don’t want to write it but thanks all the same

This is a serious request so first off if pregnancy or children make you uncomfortable OR if you do NOT agree then please keep scrolling❤️ on my page we support EVERYONE so please be kind! Secondly I'm so sorry you're struggling but your very strong and I hope you finally have a healthy baby!! Okay so onto the ask!

(NOTE: Yes I am aware I wrote something similar but this is a different case❤️)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

°As I said before astarion is VERY attentive and protective while your pregnant (before and after)

°but as the months go by your bundle of joy grows!

°He loves feeling the baby kick!

°also will NOT allow you to do any super straining!

°He won't tell you what to do but as the pregnancy goes farther along he'll expect you to rest a bit more!

°Speaking of resting... NO MORE SUPER DUPER LONG ROAD TRIPS Y/N!!!

°Astarion would prefer if you and the group stayed around the bigger towns and cities!

°Will definitely throw the grandest most biggest gender reveal part EVER!

°he really won't care what the baby's gender is as long as they're healthy and you are healthy!

°Sometimes in bed he'll hum a soft lullaby to the baby, saying how proud he is and how excited he is!

°You can't help but giggle it's cute!

°Also do expect the baby to have THE FINEST OF CLOTHES!!

°Now as for actually giving birth.

°Even if the whole group is there, astarion stays by your side!

°He'll hold your hand and tell you how proud he is and how beautiful you look!

°Once the baby is born he'll make sure you have everything you need! Holding the baby gently in his arms!

°That baby now has the most productive father in the world!

°You get extra extra extra extra EXTRAAAA pampered y/n!

°Your physical and mental health has the very best looking at for it!

°Astarion changes a lot once the baby is born! In a good way of course!

°He tries to be gentle with people and welcoming (be patient though this will take work)

[skitariiposting]

Skit's Mini Painting Journey Pt. 3

The Admech one.

C'mon, you all saw this one coming.

Back when I was painting my nurgles purple, I wanted to do a similar color scheme for my Admech army. I slowly moved away from it however, as I didn't quite like the way it turned out. The green and purple look took to Nurgle well, but purple Admech on desert planets didn't make a whole lot of sense. Didn't stop me from trying though, and while they certainly didn't look bad, I'm glad I didn't stick with it.

The Mars Pattern Family

This little fella may look familiar! Here was my first attempt at a more traditional mars pattern skit, and a jawa-esque one to boot! This was a kitbash of a proper galvanic rifle and backpack being added to The Makers Cult's Lil' Recruit.

I mean, Jawa admech is so amazing, but I had to have my little guy properly equipped!

Continuing the Mars linage is a technopriest and engiseer, both TMC printed minis. I love the way these two look. The face-shield on the technopriest looks amazing, and I'm incredibly proud of the reflection on it. The OSL on the hand isn't very visible in the picture, but it also looks really good.

This Thallax bot was supposed to be a Kastellan Bot for @elnubnub, however I got the two mixed up and picked the smaller one. I'm going to eventually remedy that, but he still looks good nonetheless.

This is by and large one of my best pieces in my opinion. Back when @cannibalcaprine had a bird face, this model was more applicable. Dominus Hera has so much soul and time put into her I don't know if I'll ever be able to replicate the state of mind I was in that let me get this mini to look this good. The cloth effects are fantastic, the OSL from the gun is fantastic, the molten axe is fantastic, the color choices and layout is fantastic, the cables are fantastic; I don't know who painted this mini, but it certainly wasn't me. It couldn't have been.

And the most important member of the Mars Pattern Family, the fan favorite: Goober. A kitbash gone wrong gone right. A broken mini finally becoming whole. The legend himself. What more is there to say?

Finally: The Submechanicum

Penelope, the Ocean Queen. My first model I painted for the Submechanicus. I'd love to say that this is my magnum opus, considering I made a whole video about her and everything...

However, I must rip the band aid off and say that this is the first version of Penelope...

Because what immediately followed her was this beast. This is the Krabaphron, another contender for one of my best models. This sucker was so genre defining, that it set a new standard for the rest of my Submechanicus army and would cause me to re-do my color-scheme and paint job planning going forward.

I based all of my future Submechanicus models off of it, using it as a template. The Skits and Techpriest both got the same treatment and I've got to say, I'm in love with the way it looks. I've continued using this style so far and I haven't had to make many modifications.

As such, Penelope... didn't quite fit the bill anymore. She stood out from the rest of the models.

So... after a livestream of planning and base layering...

She was finally given the paint job she deserved.

And that's just were our story begins fair traveler... With the rise of the Depth Guard, a proper protector of the Submechanicus will be needed to combat the forces of Nurgle... And coming late April, there will be such a machine surfacing, with a video to present it.

Of course, this is quite an older photo. It's far more painted than that. I've teased photos of it so far, however I'm saving the proper display of it for the video, so be on the look out if you want to see the completed product!

And that's about it! Hope you've enjoyed this little walk down memory lane and gallery of my mini painting endeavors! I'll be making a website for easier viewing once I've gone through and gotten some more professional looking pictures done. Thank you for reading and viewing!

-Jerry

[live-laugh-lenney]

Imagine baby Clarke coming to visit george on his tour, would defo be either a london show or Bristol, baby girl would be so confused but happy to see her daddy either way ❤️❤️❤️😭😭

pleeeeeeease, that's adorable!!

before the show, george can't put her down.

with george and max travelling for two weeks, all around the country, they deemed it unfair to make their little lady travel long distances to be able to be with and see her daddy everyday... so they decided that yn and baby girl clarkey would come and attend the most important show - the final london date in may.

he walks around backstage with her on his hip, showing her off to all his production crew, disappearing out on stage to show her just what daddy did when he wasn't at home, as yn stays in the dressing room with max and andrew and the two arthur's and he really takes in the moment before him. the empty shepherds bush venue, the set-up for their last show for the podcast tour, the way that the silence would soon before filled with the cheers and the screams of those that were excited to come and see him and his best friend waffle nonsense on stage for over an hour.

"you've been very quiet today."

he turns on his heels and looks into the wings of the stage, seeing his girlfriend stood with her very own useless hotline t-shirt tucked into her ripped jeans, a grin on his lips.

"i'm just feeling very happy today," he says, adjusting his daughter on his hip as she plays with the chain of his necklace hanging around his neck, "the last sold out show, the last night, and i've got all the best people in my life here tonight. my best friends, my girlfriend and my baby."

"you're not going to cry, are you? because i'm still an emotional wreck from having our little one so you need to pre-warn me if there will be any tears. she may be almost one but i'm still such a huge hormonal monster inside," she laughs softly, wrapping her arm around his waist and squeezing him against her side, "you deserve all of this, george. i'm so proud of you."

"it feels so surreal, still," he wraps his free arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to her forehead, "thank you for being here tonight. i know it's tough with the little one and all."

"we wouldn't miss it for the world," she tells him and he can't wipe the silly grin on his face, "we'll be sat backstage, waiting for you to come back, so we can all celebrate for a bit. i'm guessing you're out after the show tonight?"

he nods.

"max has booked out a club for us. you sure you don't want to get a babysitter and come along?"

yn shakes her head and pinches her little girl's cheek, "you deserve to celebrate tonight, okay? i'll wait up for you though, in case you need some assistance up those stairs."

he chuckles softly and shakes his head. there's commotion that went on behind them as the crew continued setting up the stage, adding the finishing touches to everything before the show went ahead, and it felt like their moment to start moving backstage so they had the room to carry on. walking slowly back to the dressing room, greeting people on the way back, entering the room to see everyone tucking in to some pre-show pizza that had been brought in.

"pizza for everyone," max grins widely as he held a crust to a pizza slice in his hand, tomato sauce smeared around his lips and across his teeth, "grab it before the human dustbin grabs some."

he looks at george with a smirk and all george can do is rolls his eyes back at him, "i am not a dustbin. i just really love pizza, okay? and yn knows that already, idiot."

baby clarke gets a little agitated when george says goodbye and does a little wave in her direction, pressing a kiss to her forehead before a kiss is placed on yn's lips, and she cries for just a moment until arthur (frederick) takes her from yn, to which she passes her over, and gives her a little cuddle to fill in the void of missing her dad.

"come to your funcle, baby clarkey," he grins widely, setting her on his hip and forgetting the plastic cup full of his alcoholic beverage, "shall we go watch daddy from the side of the stage?"

"please be careful with her, okay?" yn warns him gently and arthur smiles softly, lifting up baby clarkey's fist and waving in yn's direction, "you're an idiot."

"i promise i'll bring her back soon, yn. she'll be okay with me," arthur promises and yn smiles softly, settling herself in the chair that was once george's as he got himself ready for the night, her eyes looking up at the television screen that showed what was happening out on the stage, "back before the interval, you have my word."

and once the show had ended, and arthur's performing his two songs to close out the night for everyone, yn joins them on stage with baby clarkey on her hip as they dance along to the music. joe is out on the stage first, followed by andrew, and arthur's a little reluctant to show his face out there until yn agrees to follow him out and he follows her close behind.

and as soon as george sees them, he's reaching for his little girl so he can have a little dance and a boogie with her, which leaves yn with max and andrew as arthur blasts his lungs out with his new song. and baby clarke loves every second of the time on stage; giggling, waving at people as george shows her what to do, kicking her legs out and it makes people in the audience absolutely adore the moment. xx

[obsessivestar]

'What If It's All A RomCom?' - a Ted Nivison x Reader

{{- Welcome to Chapter 4! Gonna ditch the Story Description from here on out. If this is your first chapter, I'd recommend reading Chapter 1, Chapter 2 and Chapter 3 first! Or just read this one if you want the good shit, up to you ;^) -}}

//General Warnings: 18+ fic, Reader implied to be afab and under 5'5.

Chapter Warnings: Heated language. Heavy kissing. Mentions of Jackbox (Idk if that should count as a warning but the game is in this chapter so if you don't know of it you might get confused)\\

> Word count: 4.7k (I'm so fucking sorry LMAO)

☆▪︎▪︎▪︎Taglist!▪︎▪︎▪︎☆

@k-k0129

☆▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎☆

Chapter 4: You Don't Wanna Kiss Me?

The shots we had just done looked very pretty, actually. The crew had gotten this one beautiful shot of the extras throwing around the ball on the left with Ted and I along the flagpole on the right, the bright sun giving this shadowy effect to us all. Good. This way, you can't see how absolutely embarrassed I was with how close Ted was to me; practically had me pinned against that pole. It did make for an excellent shot though, and I could tell Tanner was proud. I didn't want to ruin that for him.

Once we all moved inside, Ted and I finally got to take part in some scenes where we'd be speaking to one another. These next scenes had extras moving around with packed bags and boxes, simulating a large group of friends helping each other move in. Ted and I would be discussing graduation in the scene over by the kitchen table. He and Tanner had apparently made some adjustments to the script earlier in the morning as the personality of 'Mason' needed to be tweaked for Ted's more extroverted personality. I didn't mind it, any new context didn't change my own lines and we were free to improv if need be. Ted would even start the scene by picking up a box from the front door to bring to the kitchen table to make the scene feel more natural. I liked how much Ted was willing to adapt to everything for the production, I'm sure Tanner appreciated it too; and I appreciated getting to see Ted move some more.

Oh man, I'm not actually starting to like this guy, am I?

I have to control my thoughts for the scene to continue. These casual takes are relatively easy to get through when my brain isn't arguing with itself. We shoot several different scenes together, some where we're talking alone and some where we're in a group setting, once again doing any necessary retakes until the sun starts to set once again and Tanner decides to call it for the day. As the film crew once again packed up and dispurse to their own accommodations, I found out who that 5th mystery member of the editing team was. It was Dan, the guy that had almost hit me with the football earlier. He apologized to me more, but I reassured him all was okay and that I wasn't upset with anyone. The interaction had got me thinking about how to wind the night down without us all retreating to our bedrooms. We had ended the 2nd day of filming a little earlier than we wrapped up yesterday, so we had the free time. I pitched the idea to Tanner once everyone else had left, and he loved the idea, so we got everyone else together and met up in the living room.

Tanner was the one to suggest bringing his PC down from his room to play Jackbox, a party game where you use your phones as controllers to connect and play some entertaining mini games. We'd all have to be together for the next 3 weeks anyways; it felt like the perfect ice breaker. At this point, everyone had changed into their own clothes, including Ted, who was wearing a black sweater and some casual dark grey pants. He looked pretty comfy, actually. The couch we were all on was like one giant sofa, all connected together in the shape of a sharp U with a large flat screen TV mounted up on the wall adjacent to us. I had sat myself near one of the corners on the left side, pleasantly surprised when Ted chose to sit next to me. The scent of pine I had caught on him earlier was a little stronger now, even though he wasn't sitting all that close to me.

"Did you put more cologne on?" I ask with a smirk, sitting up a bit more on the couch as he got comfortable next to me. "Yeah. I sweat a lot sometimes and I don't want to smell." Ted admitted, sounding a lot more relaxed than I'm used to hearing. He might've been a little tired from the long day we've had.

"That's actually why I'm sitting over here. Tanner smells like shit, like, almost all the time, so..." Ted jokes, giving a tired grin to Tanner who was setting up his PC to connect to the TV. "That's cap, chat. That's so cap." Tanner casually responds, plugging an HDMI cable to the side of the TV, then moving to sit at the far left end of the couch. Dan had chosen to sit somewhat in the middle part of the large sofa, more on Tanner's side so Joe could sit next to me.

"If you want to sit next to (Y/N), you can just say that." Tanner speaks up again, moving his mouse and keyboard onto the coffee table. I blush to myself, pulling my hands into my own long sleeved shirt. If Tanner of all people is starting to comment on...whatever's between Ted and I, it must be noticeable to literally everyone else. So it can't just be my imagination. "No, see, she doesn't smell like gym socks, so that's fine. I'll take vanilla over gym socks."

"I smell like vanilla to you?" I scoff, turning my head to him and raising a brow.

"It's not 'to me'. I just know you use vanilla."

"What do you mean I use vanilla?"

"You have a little spray bottle that says 'warm vanilla sugar." Ted spreads his thumb and his pointer figure to estimate the size of the bottle. I'm flabbergasted because he's right.

"How the fuck do you know that???" Joe asks, sounding about as confused as I am.

"Because I saw her put it in her bag!"

"Why were you--" a chuckle escapes me. "How do you know exactly what it's called?"

"You left it on the counter this morning and it scared the shit out of me because I thought it was, like, a little container of piss at first, so I looked at it!" Ted admitted, gesturing over to the kitchen with his arm. Everyone in the room starts laughing, myself included. His logic makes no sense sometimes. "And then I saw you put it in your bag, so I know it's yours!"

"Imagine it was actually was a container of piss though. Like, sorry, I left it there." Joe jokes, grinning over at Tanner. "Yeah, sorry chat, I was saving it for later." Tanner continues the joke, laughter once again filling the room. "Man, we should start a podcast." My friends are an interesting pair, I tell ya. I was surprised to see Dan and Ted weren't phased by our strange humor. They seemed to fit right in our strange friend group.

Tanner got the first game up so we could test some of the types of minigames this series had to offer. We quickly realized the trivia ones weren't very fun for us, mostly because we didn't know what any of the answers were. Quiplash gave us some good laughs but got old very quickly, and Tee K.O. was fun, but the creativity didn't last. The ones that really entertained us were The Devil's And The Details, Talking Points, and especially FixyText. There was something about the more cooperative ones that were an absolute blast, especially if I was ever paired with Ted. We'd be pushing and yelling at each other whenever one was trying to stop the other from committing a selfish act in one game, then get close together and share the screens of our phones as we created the funniest text replies in another, snickering and whispering to each other to plan ahead. I think we really blew everyone away with our fake presentations, too. Whenever we were paired up for a game, we'd be inseparable. Sensational, even.

But as always, time is fated to pass and it eventually got rather late in the night. As the last awards of the night are given, I realize just how much closer I had gotten to Ted. I wasn't leaning on his shoulder or anything, but we were practically stuck side by side together with our knees up to our chest, sharing the award we were giving out. I could tell Ted was getting tired as his voice was the lowest I had ever heard it. It was kind of...hot, actually. Especially this close. Dan is the first to say goodnight and head upstairs, with Joe helping Tanner pack away the PC to bring upstairs as well. For a little while, it was just Ted and I.

On that couch.

In that living room.

Downstairs.

Alone.

"You look tired." I speak softly as I look at Ted, who had put his hood up earlier. I could see the subtle bags under his eyes from this close.

"You kept me up past my bedtime.." Ted muttered with a tired smirk, keeping his eyes on his phone. He was checking all of his social media for the night, switching from Instagram to Twitter. "I didn't mean to keep you up.." I chuckled a little, sticking my own phone into my baggy pockets. "You're a big boy, you can make your own decisions."

"I know, but you were staying up, so.." Ted sniffles to stifle a yawn, looking over at me as he wipes one of his eyes with his hand. "Your fault."

"My fault?"

"Mhmm.."

"It's my fault you chose to stay up with me?"

"Yeah. Exactly."

"It sounds like you wanted to stay up with me, Teddy.." I shoot him a gentle grin, taking the opportunity to tease him. "I wanted..." Ted pauses to allow himself to yawn, stretching one arm out while covering his mouth with his free hand before continuing. "I wanted to make sure you'd lose."

"You wanted to make sure I'd lose."

"That's right."

"That's it?"

"That's about it."

"You wanna know what I think?"

"Prolly not a whole lot..."

"I--fuck off, I think--" I let out a cackle, lightly smacking his shoulder. "I think you wanted to stay up with everyone, not just me."

"Not just you?"

"No."

"No?..."

He stops stretching and looks at his phone one last time to close Twitter, then slips his phone into his sweater pocket and turns his head again to look at me. Our eyes meet and the room goes quiet. Ted has this relaxed half-smile as he looks at me, his eyes subtly moving left to right to suggest he's looking at both of my eyes. I return the tired smile, taking the quiet moment to gaze into his earthy orbs. As our gazes stay fixed on one another, I can feel a pit of anxiousness grow in my stomach like a slow, blooming flower. He just admitted it, didn't he? He wanted to stay up for me, with me. I can't deny this any longer. Ted is...a very handsome looking man. I can't break my gaze away. I turn my body a bit more towards him to make my neck more comfortable. His eyes wander along my blushing cheeks. I wonder if his gaze would go any lower, but he returns his stare to mine. I shouldn't. I can't even find the willpower to say anything, but he isn't speaking either. He isn't speaking, he isn't teasing me, he's stopped teasing me. Why has he stopped teasing me? He's so...he's so...

"(Y/N)"

I hear my name come from Joe's voice, startling Ted and I a little. I look over the couch to see Joe standing at the stairs, giving me a knowing smirk. How long has he been standing there? I look at my phone and realize it's nearly midnight. We should all be going to bed. I look over at Ted again, but he's already off the couch, cleaning up the empty bottles and cups to the kitchen. Son of a bitch.

I get up to help clean up, as Ted missed a cup since his hands were full. "Hold on." I tell Joe, heading into the kitchen with Ted. It's all one big room, so Joe can still see Ted and I in the kitchen. As Ted's putting the bottles in the recycling, I start putting the cups in the sink. There's a moment where we both reach for the same cup and his hand slightly rests on top of mine. His hand is surprisingly colder than I anticipated. We look at each other and chuckle quietly, then Ted removes his hand so I could put the cup in the sink.

"Clearly I am fuckin' tired.." He mutters and looks at me with a tired smile. "Don't stay up so late next time.." I pester him a little, returning the smile as I move away from the sink.

"I probably will.."

"Right, and it'll be my fault, yeah?"

"It'll absolutely be your fault."

I roll my eyes at his response, not even making an effort to hide the blush on my cheeks.

"Goodnight, Ted."

"G'night, stinky.."

A little laugh slips out of me, finally joining Joe at the stairs. Before we're even out of Ted's sight, Joe is already badgering me about that exchange. He whispers in a criticizing tone, but I can barely hear him over our stepping until we get to the upstairs hallway.

"I literally told you. I literally told you not to flirt." Joe huffs, picking up his tone now that we were likely out of earshot. "No no no, you didn't tell me not to flirt." I shake my head and waggle my finger in Joe's direction. "You told me not to sleep with him, I'm not sleeping with him."

"That's not what it was about to look like." Joe's whisper becomes raspy, like he's quietly yelling at me.

"What do you mean?? I didn't start flirting, he did."

"Did you not feel how fucking close you two were the whole night? He looked like he was about to kiss you just now!"

I look over at the stairs, as if I'm able to look at Ted through them. I think about his eyes and his smile. God, his smile. His stupid smile. "He was?.." Once again, I find myself smiling. It seems I can't even hide these feelings from Joseph. Not sure why I thought I could, Joe's see's everything, especially if I'm involved. He may know me better than I know myself. He's my best friend.

He snaps his fingers in my face to wake me from my gaze, furrowing his brows at me in frustration. I let out a huff, shrugging my shoulders at him. I'm not going to dance around him anymore. I know he has good intentions, but I see him as a brother, not a father. "Well, so fucking what? What do you want me to say, that I think he's ugly?"

"I'd know you're lying to me."

"Exactly! What are you gonna do if it actually happens? I have to kiss him tomorrow anyways. If something else happens, it happens. I don't know what to tell you that'd make you feel better other than I'll be fine."

Joe takes a deep breath, turning his head away from me for a moment. I could see his thoughts through his body language. He was unsure at first, but a mischievous smirk began to take over his expression. I saw Protective Brother Joseph leave his body in favour of Gossiping Best Friend Joseph.

"...okay, you two would be pretty hot together."

I let out a louder laugh than I probably should've, quickly covering my mouth as Joe playfully shushes me. I know Joe just doesn't want me to get hurt, I acted the same way with him when he met his husband. We love each other like family. "But you have to promise me you'll tell me first if anything happens. I need the tea."

"Oh you know I will.." I grin at him, moving over to my door for the night.

"Night, Joe." "Night (Y/N)."

I enter my bedroom and plop right down on the bed, letting out a content sigh. I take out my phone to glance over social media one last time. I see Ted had posted a photo of the 5 of us earlier, and I see just how close I was to Ted. I take a screenshot of it and rest the phone down on my chest, unable to contain my smile. I giggle to myself, knowing what's coming. I fall asleep wondering if I'll be ready tomorrow. There's a very good chance I could freak out.

Turns out, we both might've been freaking out.

The morning comes and goes, mostly because some of us had slept in. By the afternoon, we're having to turn the lights down and close the blinds to simulate it being much later in the night. We've got a bunch of RGB lights and even a light-up disco ball on the ceiling to make it feel like a party. This is the first scene in which Ted and I will be sharing a kiss. I actually really like how the scene is set. Ted and I are sitting in a circle with a bunch of the extras playing Spin-The-Bottle. Of course, after a few spins, the bottle will be pointing for us to kiss. We have to act like we're nervous, which probably wasn't helping. When it came to filming the actual kissing scene, we had to sit down beside each other, turn our heads and kiss, but it had to be slow. We have to linger on it, really show the tension building up just for it to burst with that very first kiss.

But for nearly a whole hour, we couldn't do it.

Maybe it was all the extra eyes, maybe it was the weird angle we were at, I had no idea. Sometimes Ted would be ready and I'd mess up, sometimes I'd be ready and he'd mess up. It was a whole ordeal. I felt bad for everyone that was waiting for us to get this. No one appeared to be mad, but one kiss was taking over an hour. Even I'd start to feel a little frustrated if the leads couldn't wrap it up. We almost get it at one point, but I choke at the last second and start laughing, which makes Ted start laughing as well. He grabs my face and starts shaking me, chanting. "We have to kiss, (Y/N)! This is our job! You need to kiss me, God damnit! Look at my lips and kiss me!" We both were becoming hysterical, so much so that Tanner finally decided to call for a break. I was relieved, actually. As hard as I was laughing, I was embarrassed. I thought I'd be more prepared for this. Perhaps getting this comfortable with Ted was a mistake, now I can't do my job.

As everyone's leaving to grab lunch or touch up their hair and makeup, Tanner approaches Ted and I as we get up from the floor. I half expected him to encourage us to get the kiss over with in front of everyone, but he has a different idea. "Okay, this is going to sound insane, but hear me out..." Tanner begins, gesturing to the both of us. "I'm gonna get the camera rolling...and then I'm just gonna leave it there."

"Leave it there?" I ask, raising a brow. "What do you mean?"

"I just...I feel like all of the eyes watching are making this a little harder for you guys.." Tanner admitted, clasping his hands together. "I can bring another camera and go outside with everyone, I want you two to be comfortable. You can take your time and, yknow, Ted could look at the shot afterwards.." Tanner trails off, probably looking for a specific reaction out of either Ted or I. Ted didn't seem to mind the idea at all, looking over at me with a shrug. I look down at my shoes, sort of clicking them together. So Tanner wants Ted and I to kiss on camera...alone.

"But if you want to wait, we can film something else..." Tanner speaks up again, looking at me with a concerned expression.

"Are you okay...?" Ted pauses, lightly touching my arm with one of his fingers, almost like he was...caressing me. I turn my head up to look at Ted, watching as he tilts his head. "....with that?"

"Yeah, I can do it this way." I finally answer, giving Ted and Tanner a smile. "He probably needs a refresher on how to kiss a woman anyways..."

Ted chuckles and shakes his head at me, though Tanner is satisfied with the answer. "Alright, I'll just set it up and give you two the reigns.." Tanner speaks, moving over to the camera. He adjusts a few things on it, then takes a step back and shoots us some finger guns. "Shout if you need me."

Ted and I watch as Tanner collects the rest of the team and brings them outside, watching one of the bigger crew members pick up an entire camera and hoist it on outside.

Now, it was just Ted and I.

In the living room.

Alone.

On camera.

"Alright, go sit where we were before, I'll make sure the camera's in focus.." Ted instructs, pointing over to the floor. I can't help but blush, only because It sounded like a command. I wonder if he's the type to talk you through it...

Stop it. It's just a kiss.

I go and sit back on the floor, criss-crossing my legs as I watch Ted fiddle with the camera. After a moment, he lets out a sigh and steps back. "Alright. You're in focus. It'll adjust to us." He speaks, coming over to sit next to me. I can feel my heart start beating out of my chest once he sits down. This is really happening. I know I have to do this for Tanner, I want to do it for Tanner, but it's...harder now. For some reason, it's harder now.

"If you want, we could just...talk first.." Ted spoke to me in a condecending tone. Our eyes meet once more and I get that same pit in my stomach that I had last night. No. I'm not gonna let him have this. He got me yesterday on that fucking pole, I'm getting him today. "We could...talk about last night.." I offered, shooting him a little grin. He cracks a smile, gliding the tip of his tongue along his top teeth briefly.

"You wanna get into this on camera?" Ted asks, nodding at me with am embarrassed little smile.

"What!? You're the one that offered to talk!" I start laughing, tilting my head at him mockingly. "You don't wanna kiss me, Teddy? You afraid to kiss me?"

"Fuck you."

"You don't wanna kiss me?"

"This film is going to fail because of you--"

"You don't wanna kiss me?"

"and your--and your giant fucking ego."

"You don't wanna kiss me?"

"Are you done, princess? Are you fucking done?" Ted's swiveling his head in my direction to mock me back, a permanent grin on his face. "Shut your mouth, I'm comin' in."

"You're not doing shit! That's not the tell!"

"Hey."

"'Hey' what?"

"Hey."

"What?"

"Shut your mouth."

I raise both of my eyebrows at him and scoff. Before I can think of another sarcastic remark, he does it. His eyes wander down to my lips, lightly nibbling on the end of his own bottom lip, then he returns his gaze to mine. That's the tell. He's about to lean in, but I don't let him.

My body moves on its own, darting towards him so our lips could finally meet for the first time. All of the tension that had been building between us finally begins to melt as our lips continue to connect, slowly at first. It's not enough. I unravel my legs and sit up on my knees. Ted reacts by placing both of his hands on my waist, pulling me in closer to cause a breathy moan to escape into our kiss. My hands reach up to hold both of his cheeks, his glasses caressing my face as our lips caress each other's tenderly. I can feel the heat radiating off his cheeks, my own warm blush making my breathing pick up. I can't pull away. It feels like his lips were meant to be attached to mine. I can feel his breathing on my chest, his stubble along the palms of my hands, his fingers gripping my lower back, his tongue gliding along his lower lip into mine, his cologne, the tension. The tension. All of it was making me stir crazy. His lips, his kiss, I could lose myself in him. I could truly lose it. I don't want to stop. I want to run my fingers through his hair, I want to bite his stupid lip, I want to be louder.

But we're on camera. Tanner's camera. We have to stop. I have to...

I'm the one to break the kiss, hearing a quiet pop and an airy moan from Ted in response. I connect my forehead with his for a brief moment, keeping my eyes closed until I pull away to look at him. The tip of his nose tickles mine, his hands still wrapped around my waist. We share a quiet moment, steadying our breathing. I don't even know if this kiss was supposed to be this heated, but it's what Tanner's getting. All he wrote was 'Kara and Mason kiss' in the script. He can work with this.

"...I think we got it.." Ted is the first to speak up, but he doesn't remove his hands from me just yet. I can't help but let out a laugh, leaning my head back for a moment. "What? What did I say?" Ted asks, smiling through his teeth.

"No no, I just..." I take a few breaths through my laughter, letting go of his face to wave my hand a little. "I-I think that's the quietest we've been together so far.."

"Oh yeah? We should probably get louder then.."

Now that. That is something I didn't think I'd hear out of Ted, certainly not to me. Did he forget we're supposed to be shooting a scene?

"Camera's still rolling, Teddy.."

"...FUCK!"

Ted nearly throws me off of him and struggles to get up to go turn off the camera. I'm absolutely killing myself laughing as I pick myself up off the floor. No way did the fucker forgot we were filming. He JUST said 'we got it'.

"You forgot!?"

"Can you cut footage on this!?"

"You fucking forgot! Oh my god, you sad fuck!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Ted laughs, trying to sound angry with me as he pauses the film on the camera. "Tanner's gonna see that!"

"Hell yeah he is! Great Job, Teddy! You sleazy mother fucker.."

"Me? Me!? He's gonna see you being a fucking slut!"

"Oh I'M the slut!? Really?!"

"Yeah!"

"Really!?"

"Yes!"

"Your hands on my fucking waist? I'M the slut!?"

"Your tongue in MY mouth!"

"You started with it!"

"I did fucking NOT! I felt yours first!"

"I felt YOURS first! YOU started with it!"

"Started with what?"

Tanner suddenly steps into the room, startling both of us. He must've just stepped in from outside, I didn't even hear him close a door. He's got no idea what we're yelling at each other about. "Have you guys kissed yet?"

Ted and I look at each other again as I struggle to contain my laughter. All I can do is nod, pointing in Ted's direction. "Ask him about it. It's on there." I manage to speak after a little while, walking passed them to head outside. I lightly touch my lips as I open the screen door to get outside. The last thing I hear is Tanner asking Ted about all the yelling, and a final huff from Ted himself.

Truthfully, I needed to head outside to compose myself. I could still feel his hands on my warm cheeks, placing my own hand on it to feel just how hot they had become. I couldn't believe he forgot he were filming, he seemed very into...all of that.

What would've happened if the camera wasn't there?

__________________________________

|| Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 (smut) || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 (smut) || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 (smut) || Chapter 15 || Chapter 16 || Chapter 17 || Chapter 18 (smut) || Chapter 19 ||

[missedmilemarkers]

Hi again!! Figured that since you were technically open to any question, I want to hear your thoughts or views on this. I'm not sure if I could message you (because I'm very awkward and I can't exactly hold a conversation based on small topics) But, how do you feel about choosing something practically over passion? This question has always plagued me ever since it was brought up during class, and it provoked to me how practically was always chosen over passion as it would technically "help" them more than pursuing their passion.

Was choosing tech for you a more practical choice or were you passionate about it? I don't want to sound rude over this question, but it only occurred to me when you mentioned that you were working in a field that is quite more on the technical side. Do you see it as something similar to an art form as you develop products that could help improve lives tremendously? Or is it just a job that you expect to pay good?

(P.S Sharing these photos I took some time ago, I believe it was last year and it was submitted for a class. Hope you enjoy them as well! Not as much sun as the last one though)

First off. Before going into any of the content of this post. THAT GIANT SNAIL IS SOO COOL! I just recently found out that they exist and was just amazed by the size of them. GREAT PICTURE!!!

Alright lets unpack the content of this ask.

TLDR:

You got this I believe in you. Stand tall and proud and go for whatever your heart and head want. If they disagree pick one and evaluate later. Even if your heart and head dont know that is OK as the story of your life unfolds the path will become clear. If you are honest you can always move with confidence and never lose a moment of sleep.

I am choosing to dive deep into this again for a few different reasons. The reason I am doing this you are at a moment in time which you perceive to be important (final exams, deciding about life etc etc etc). The unfortunate thing is this moment is no more important then any other you will experience. All it is would nothing more then a "MileMarker" which you will use for evaluation later in life. That does not mean its not important. All that means is every decision you made every action you took got you to the moment you are in RIGHT NOW. So dont worry no matter your choice you will always make the right decision. Even if its wrong you will always gain insight and that insight will always lead to success if passion is applied.

how do you feel about choosing something practically over passion?

I am not sure if there is exactly a correct answer for this one. If there is I think the best one would be do whatever makes you happy, and the only way to find out what makes you happy is to try. One thing I have learned is sometimes money or love is not enough. One can have all the money in the world and be miserable. Same goes for love. One could be loved by the world and be empty inside. That answer is kind of B.S. for someone that is seeking input. With that being said I will go over some of my experiences. My very first job was at an auto mechanic shop. I used to love working on cars. I would spend my weekends doing it. I would hang out with my friends and all have a great time. So i figured it would be a good choice to work as a mechanic. So I went and got that job. I worked it for about 5 years. At the end of it I never wanted to work on cars again. To this day I will not even change my own oil because I hate it so much. Am I upset it turned out that way? Not at all. Life is all about the experience nothing more nothing less. That lesson for me was finding out what I did not like in life and was just as important in my journey as knowing what I liked. At the end of my mechanic experience I figured I should just go be a garbage man. I would get the same blue jump suit but instead of the trash coming to me I would go to the trash. Really all we can do is to try. There is no wrong answer. Even if one makes a choice and find out its wrong for you that is OK.

Was choosing tech for you a more practical choice or were you passionate about it? "Neither and both"

The reason I brought up the above being a mechanic. If i did not want the same thing to happen on my outlook of computers as it did for mechanics. It was because of this I did not get into tech. I loved it so much I did not want to risk ever hating it. So that is passion but born of practicality based on what is important to me and only me. This is was dictated by my previous experiences and not wanting to have any regret in life. More on this: I have always been interested in computers and tech. I grew up in a very poor household. We only ever had exactly what we needed and nothing more. My childhood was amazing. Yea at the time I wanted more but after I got older and realized how the world was I landed on the outlook of "I could not have asked for more and it was amazing even though it was viewed bad at the time". One of my best friends growing up his family was very rich. It was through him that I was able to get access to technology. From that my obsession was born. I loved tech so much I avoided it professionally because i did not want the same thing to happen as did with mechanics. Then one day just purely by happenstance a neighbor offered me a job. I decided at that moment you know what try it. Why not, I now knew the signs of when i might start to hate it. so why not. We can never have any form of regret. So at that first job I literally ran around a call center unplugging and plugging back in headsets. Was this something that made a difference in this world. No, was it something that I found great internal satisfaction. No. At this point did it provide me financial security. NO IT SURE DID NOT! It was until many years went by to get a chance to shine. When that moment came I was ready and I crushed it. From that moment it was all different. I gained both functional and passion in my career with huge paychecks. But you know what, none of that matters now. The only thing it provides is a story for others of my personal experience. None of it means anything right now and clearly I cannot seem to pay the bills. That is ok. I would not change my situation, the outcomes, my choices or or any aspect of how i got to this moment right now. As long as I continue to try, learn and adapt I will find my way. However none of that will happen if I never take steps on my own and try with every fiber of my being each day.

how practically was always chosen over passion as it would technically "help" them more than pursuing their passion.

Based on that statement I feel how you are looking at this in the wrong context. That statement is taken from the third person. You need to have it worded something more like this. how practically was always chosen over passion as it would technically "help" me more than pursuing my passion. The context of that change is huge. Lets take a moment and reflect on that. I bring special attention to this because 1. We can never know what is best for any other person. Its hard enough knowing what is best for ourselves. Its ok to use other peoples stories and experiences as guidance in our own actions and decisions. It should never be our place to dictate what is best for another. We can never know that persons experiences, thoughts, emotions or context. We can offer guidance and feel happy we had an opportunity to share. 2. This now forces an action from the third person to a first person. This logic dictates something must happen. Even non action is an action and should be evaluated later and potentially adjusted. Sometimes non action is the best action. Often times its not though. Its all about that re-evaluation. 3. Experience is the most important thing in life. If you are struck in any form of "I wish I could...", "I always wanted to...", "Why cant i just...", "I don't know what ...". The only way to fix that is to do anything different. If you are frozen in a conversation start with one single word "Hello". If you are struck with any form of indecision just make one that is easier and more open ended. Instead of "I will make a final decision by", change it to "I try to evaluate my choices on", then take some time do a proper evaluation. Ok i wanted to try but i was unable to do that. Its ok that happened what can I do differently to "try anything else" and step with confidence in whatever choice you make. Even if its wrong there is never any regret because you made the best decision for you at the moment. Changing the view from "Observer" to "Doer" is what this context change provides. When an honest action is taken you can always do it with confidence no matter what it is. to Your final question. Money is a sign of a job well done. If you enjoy what you do you never work a day in your life.

In final thoughts: Tomorrow will never come and yesterday is just a story that only you care about. People might want specific things for you but none of that matters. Anyone who truly cares will want your happiness above all else. If that person cant understand that then they are probably not the best person to spend your time with. If you are living in the past you are depressed. If you are living in the future you are anxious. Its all about right now nothing more nothing less. Just smile, be confident and just do what is best for you and no one else. No decisions are final, you are free to change your mind at any time. Its ok not to know. We can never know the story of life through any other way then just living it how we choose. If future you is worried (anxious). Then present you should do something to set that person which don't know but implicitly care about up for whatever that success is defined as such by you. If past you is upset (depressed) about something then future you (currently present) can do something about it and make a change. Even if that change is wrong you can tell past you (depressed) that you tried and ask that person for advise and make adjustments accordingly. As long as you try you will always get exactly what you need. Survival is a very strange thing like that. It always is right up until it is not. The moments of survival in most cases outnumber the moments of conclusion. So dont ever worry the statistics are on your side.

Time is the only thing we never get back. I choose to spend my time happy. My personal definition of happiness has changed many times throughout life (story). Money will come for me as a result of that. So far it has worked out for me. To date I have survived (lived) far more moments then i have concluded (died). The same thing can be said about anyone reading this.

Conclusion: Each time i chose based on passion, One time I lost a passion. The other time I did not. Each time I was able to survive. Each time i gained valuable experience and understanding of who I was. I always succeed because I will always try hard and hopefully learn from my mistakes just enough to be good. I want to be happy in life and If at any moment I am not that is my measuring stick to make some kind of change.

Much like the seasons change is forced.

But we will always find the beauty of tomorrow. Even though we might have suffered a broken arm.

[blushblushbear]

PLEASE ANYTING WITH FERRIS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

LOL, alright-- here's some general headcanons

his stomach is in pain almost constantly cause he eats like shit (those rare moments of relief when he can finally afford real food)

needs therapy, can't afford it

doesn't really have a lot of friends, most of his buds are from high school and he only sees them sometimes

all his relationships thus far have kinda sucked and been short lived

binge watches SOOOOO much tv

doesn't really read much but when he does it's audio books

chronic listener of podcasts

his music tastes are either wholly main stream or way out of left field and there's nothing in between

doesn't talk to his folks much, partly cause he's trying to be independent, but also cause he doesn't wanna worry them

doesn't really like any of his co-workers like---- AT ALL

one time he drank 3 energy drinks in one sitting and he can't remember the rest of the day but he was apparently very productive (the only reason he hasn't tried again is he was SO SICK afterwards)

his loyalties and services can be bought with food

is one of those people with two coffee modes--- a barista's nightmare order or just a black coffee with two sugars

has eaten things he is not proud off

lives a very fresh outta college life (though I'm willing to bet money he never actually went to/finished college)

is a form of tired that no caffeine or sleep can fix

wants to take a beach trip SO BAD

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC’s Lucien Sharing Date English Translation

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a date that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

Perhaps it's an illusion, but after he removes his glasses, those eyes that have always been looking at me seem even deeper.

With my soft exclamation, the already close distance becomes even more intimate, not leaving any gap.

His lowered lashes tremble lightly, brushing against my cheeks like butterfly wings.

His hot breath lingers on the corner of my lips for a while before finally enveloping it eagerly.

special thanks to ivi (@ivioivioivi on twitter) for helping me with translating some abstract things here 🫶

✂———————–

—[Part 1]—

The lecture hall is almost full, filled with students from the Film and Television Department of Loveland University.

Due to my previous programs consistently ranking first in viewership, universities' Film and Television Department often use them as case studies.

However, it's the first time today that both the production team and I have been invited to campus to give a sharing session.

Even though I've attended many events and ceremonies, as a behind-the-scenes person, I still feel a bit nervous under so many attentive gazes.

MC: Hello students, I'm MC.

Noticing a subtle unease in my tone, I can't help but recall the solemn vow that I made last night.

—[Flashback Start]—

MC: As long as I step onto the same podium where Professor Lucien once stood, I'll surely have the same demeanor as you!

Seeing me confidently waving the speech notes, Lucien couldn't help but chuckle.

Lucien: I'm curious, in your eyes, what kind of demeanor do I have?

MC: Of course you're someone who is both patient and effortlessly competent, and able to make complex concepts lively and engaging. In short, you're simply the best teacher in the world!

He gently gazed at me for a moment and then pulled me into his arms.

Lucien: [chuckles] If this biased classmate really were my student, my evaluations would probably become the highest in the whole school.

MC: What! The original highest score wasn't yours?

My exaggerated tone amused him, and Lucien rubbed my hair.

Lucien: If the Great Producer keeps showering me with praise like this, I might not be able to resist feeling proud.

Lucien: After the poster for the sharing session was put up, many colleagues came to greet me because of this outstanding family member*.

(T/N: his colleagues refer to MC as XM/Lucien's family🥺)

MC: So it seems that the reason I agreed at that time was very correct~

Facing his curious gaze, I winked at him.

MC: Because that was the invitation sent by your school.

—[Flashback Ends]—

Looking down at the audience below once more, I steady my mind.

Just as I'm about to speak, I hear a familiar voice.

??: Sorry, teacher, I'm late. Can I still come in and listen now?

MC: Of course—

Unwittingly, I glance towards the classroom door, my eyes widen in surprise when I see Lucien.

The classroom buzzes with murmurs, as the students have also recognized him.

Lucien: Thank you, teacher. Sorry to interrupt everyone.

I stare dumbfoundedly as he approaches and calmly places a piece of paper on the podium.

Lucien: My late slip.

MC: Ah, okay…

Not until he steps down to find an empty seat do I notice that the completely blank late slip is covered with a sticky note-

-filled with a drawing of a little rabbit on the lectern talking eloquently, and in the audience seat, a little fox applauds with a smile on his eyes.

I can't help but look up at him, seeing that he has already found a seat and is quietly gazing at me.

The distance between us isn't close, but his gaze has already dispelled most of my unease.

So I collected myself and took out my speech notes.

MC: I originally wanted to chat with everyone, but our department head wouldn't allow it, so I had to prepare a speech.

A wave of friendly laughter ripples through the audience, completely easing my nerves.

Very soon, I smoothly finished speaking according to the notes.

MC: ...Actually, the birth of every successful case is influenced by many uncontrollable variables.

MC: Even if we as creators replicate the so-called “speak from experience”, it may not necessarily generate new successful cases.

MC: In the end, I think sharing some practical insights is better.

MC: I often feel that filming is similar to life, it's a process of establishing a stable relationship with the world.

MC: And some specific yet small orders will bring us a sense of certainty about life and becoming an important part of life.

MC: If you don't know what to shoot, you can look within your own world.

MC: Taking myself as an example, like... the flower shop that opens at 8 a.m. near my home. And also...

As I speak, I look at the audience, meeting head-on the gaze that has never shifted.

There is an itch in my heart, always wanting to express something. Before I know it, I've already put down the speech notes--

MC: [smiling softly] The light from my neighbor's house next door often stays on until 4 a.m.

✂———————–

—[Part 2]—

Amidst the continuous applause, Lucien beamingly applauds, bearing a striking resemblance to the little fox on the sticky note.

At this moment, the dean beside me suddenly leans in, lowering their voice as they speak.

Dean: MC, you delivered your speech too smoothly. Here's the bad news: there are still 20 minutes left before class ends.

MC: [sweating nervously] Ah? What should I do? Do you have anything else you want to say?

Seeing him shake his head, my brain starts to work at lightning speed, and suddenly, I think of something.

MC: Since we're out of things to say, we'll just have to let the students speak.

The next moment, a student stood up bewildered as we called their name.

Dean: Everyone, feel free to express your thoughts. Share your feelings after attending the sharing session.

Student A: Oh! I found Teacher MC's talk very interesting. I've also been pondering about some small "orders" just now.

Student A: Like the video call my mom makes every night and the taro ice cream that the school convenience store restocks every Thursday afternoon at three.

Laughter instantly fills the room, as if this were a well-known understanding among everyone.

Immediately, several students also raise their hands, eager to join the conversation.

Student B: When spring arrives, the peach blossoms on the campus will bloom the earliest.

Student C: There's an old librarian who likes to blow his beard, it turns out he's stuck on sudoku.

This time, everyone fell silent for a moment, emitting small gasps of surprise.

Student C: Because of the old man's habit of blowing his beard, I made a documentary about him... but the film lacked soul.

Student C: So I want to ask, how do you find something worth expressing?

I think for a moment before speaking earnestly.

MC: The best way I can think of is to ask yourself what you most want to express from your heart.

MC: Once you have the answer, you will discover that it may have just been sustaining the order you rely on the most to survive right now.*

MC: It's also the closest connection between you and this world—

MC: At that moment, many natural words or images will appear before you effortlessly.

(T/N: tbh it's really abstract even in CN LOL, but I take from it that perhaps what you want to express is already on the orders in your life all along? Keep this in mind until the last part)

I instinctively glance at Lucien and notice the corners of his eyes slowly curving.

Student C: Can you give an example?

MC: Um?

Perhaps the answer was too clear before my eyes, and in that moment, I hesitated instead.

As I realize, I've already missed the opportune moment for the best response, and I can't help but feel a bit embarrassed.

And the person in my line of sight seems to have chuckled, raising his hand.

Lucien: I'd like to share something too.

As soon as these words were spoken, students turned their curious gazes towards him, and I also waited nervously for his speech.

Lucien: I feel that, often, before finding the expression, perhaps it's the order itself that takes precedence in life.

Lucien: After you become aware of it, it has already brought about natural habits and rules.

Lucien: Therefore, for me, perhaps the modification and alteration of the order itself appear to be more special. The things born from it make people want to dig and explore deeper.

Lucien: For example, the hot milk that always appears when I write a paper, or the scolding I received for not sleeping, which seems to have started at some unknown point…

Even as I try to control my expression, I still feel my cheeks getting a little warm.

The instigator, however, seemed oblivious to my shyness, unabashedly casting an eager gaze my way.

Lucien: Teacher MC, if all the orders of life point to one person at the same time, then wouldn't her existence—

Lucien: Be tantamount to the closest connection between me and this world?

✂———————–

—[Part 3]—

The meeting ends, and after saying goodbye to my colleagues, I decide to take a walk around campus with Lucien.

I'm still immersed in the confession that only we knew a moment ago. Even my steps feel a bit light.

Lucien: You seem to have more talent for being a teacher than I imagined.

Lucien: If I had a teacher like you when I was studying, I would definitely sit in the front row every class.

Lucien: Would this teacher choose me as the class representative?

As he speaks seriously, I pretend to consider.

MC: Hmm... I'll think about it.

He nods thoughtfully, but a smile slowly appears in his eyes.

Lucien: So, to become the class representative, it seems I need to pay more attention to the teacher.

Lucien: [teasingly] Your face seems to have been flushed since I raised my hand to answer the question. Are you feeling uncomfortable?

Colliding with his narrowed smiling eyes, I blush and playfully poke his arm.

MC: Lucien!

Lucien: [chuckles] It seems that the teacher has already remembered my name.

Seeing his pretending-to-be-serious expression, I can't help but laugh.

Lucien: Moreover, it seems you set an example for me first.

I raise my puzzled gaze, then collide with his slightly teasing smiling eyes.

Lucien: After all, it was teacher MC who mentioned me first.

Lucien: It appears that I didn't realize I had become part of your order so long ago.

MC: ….!

I belatedly react, embarrassedly wanting to reach out and cover his mouth.

He chuckles softly and catches my hand, squeezing it into his palm.

Hand in hand, we walk through the campus, bathed in the gentle light filtering through the trees, softly resting upon us.

Occasionally, students pass by us, heading in the same direction.

The moment I curiously glance in that direction, he already grasps my hand, leading me towards it knowingly.

Ten minutes later, standing at the entrance of the convenience store, we look at the taro ice cream in each other's hands and laugh together.

Despite the slight chill in the air, I eagerly take a big bite, instantly filled with the soft, sweet flavor of taro.

MC: No wonder it can become an unspoken understanding among everyone, it's just too delicious!

Lucien also takes a bite of the ice cream, his eyes widening slightly.

Lucien: [gasps in a pleasant surprise] It's a bit cold... but indeed the taste exceeds imagination.

MC: But it seems quite popular on campus. You've never tried it before?

He shakes his head, then as if something catches his eye, he lifts his hand and gently rests it on the top of my head.

Lucien: Although there are indeed many beauties in this world that I have yet to discover…

Lucien: They always seem to be miraculously brought to me by you.

He opens his palm towards me, revealing a pale pink petal lying inside, probably the one he just picked from the top of my head.

I raise my head, and several peach blossoms hanging from the branches come into view.

Realizing that the scenes shared by the students seem to be coincidentally unfolding before us, I look at Lucien with some excitement.

MC: How about we go to the library again and see that old man who loves to do Sudoku?

Unfortunately, the one sitting at the librarian's desk in the reading room is a young girl.

MC: Looks like the old man isn't on duty today…

Sensing my gaze, the girl looks back at me with a puzzled expression.

I instinctively turn to the side, then immediately hear a muffled chuckle from above.

Lucien: [chuckles] Are you forgetting that you* have always had the right to come and go here?

MC: Right…

[T/N: Actually, Lucien teasingly refers to MC as 教师家属 (teacher’s family member) in that sentence. Anyway since he’s a teacher here, and she’s his ‘family member’ she has the right to just come to the library at any time. They can find him at another time together^^]

The familiar reading room, the season of peach blossoms blooming, and the person beside me with a smile, everything seems to be no different from two years ago.

[Reference to Impression Date!]

But unlike back then, the once quiet and empty reading room is now filled with students quietly reading. I can't help but lower my voice.

MC: I don't think I asked you last time, where do you like to sit when you read?

His indifferent gaze falls lightly on the sun-drenched tables and chairs without much emotion.

Lucien: I prefer to borrow books from the third-floor lending room and read them at home rather than here.

MC: Oh? I always thought you wouldn't be picky about reading environments.

Lucien: For me, the environment indeed has little impact on the reading experience.

Lucien: However, at home, there's always a little lady who will snuggle up next to me and read together.

He pauses for a moment, looking at me earnestly.

Lucien: It's hard not to develop a sense of dependence on the comforting environment you create.

✂———————–

—[Part 4]—

MC: Wow, it's "Essays in Love"!

Just as I stepped into the lending room, I paused in front of a somewhat familiar novel.

Lucien: Mm, compared to the story in the book, I'm more impressed by MC's "kidnapping”*.

[T/N: reference to Devotion Date where MC 'kidnaps' Lucien]

He holds my hand and leads me with a smile, I haven't even taken a few steps yet when another book catches my eye.

MC: "YOUR ATOMIC SELF"? You just read it recently during the check-in event!

Lucien: Yes, I returned it after finishing. If you want to read it, there's a new copy in the study that I just bought.

We walk hand in hand through the empty shelves, and every few steps, we come across familiar traces.

MC: Hehe, this book is one we read together.

Lucien: However, after flipping through a few pages, it seems like a girl fell asleep in my arms.

MC: [sweating] Haha, it's the kind of thing you can forget about.

Lucien: [teasingly] Oh? Looks like MC isn't too curious about what happens after she falls asleep.

His lips curled a bit, as if recalling something amusing.

MC: What is it?

Lucien: Actually... [chuckles] about half an hour after you fell asleep, I fell asleep too.

MC: Pfft! If even you fell asleep, then it must be the fault of the book.

Lucien: Though it's a bit impolite to say, the author's writing does lack logical coherence.

Seeing his slightly furrowed brow and troubled expression, I suddenly felt the urge to tease him, so I struggled to suppress a smile.

MC: But I think it's impressive in its own way.

Lucien: Hm?

MC: It can be used for hypnosis~ Next time if I find you refusing to sleep, I'll just read it aloud beside you, and you'll drift off in no time.

Seemingly taking it seriously, he even pondered for a moment before speaking.

Lucien: [chuckles] But the feasibility of this method is not very high.

MC: Why?

Lucien: After all, it seems like you'd get sleepy before managing to lull me to sleep.

Seeing him speak earnestly, but his eyes already betraying laughter, I can't help but laugh along with him.

The clock hanging on the wall quietly completes a full circle as we step into the innermost section of the document area.

Scholarly journals written in various languages are neatly arranged on the bookshelves, bringing together a vast ocean of wisdom.

Suddenly, I remembered something and looked at him with a hint of anticipation.

MC: I remember you recently published a paper in a core journal. Can we find it here too?

Lucien: Nowadays, many publications are distributed in electronic formats. I'm not sure if the library would have hard copies.

His gaze wanders through the dizzying array of titles for a long time, seemingly without finding anything.

So he walks over to the search computer, typing the journal's name on the keyboard, and after hitting the enter key, he squints a little at the screen.

Lucien: [chuckles] Found it.

MC: Huh? They have even the newest ones. Can I find the article you published earlier too?

Five minutes later, I find myself dazedly staring at the thick journals in my arms.

MC: Even though I know about every paper you've published, seeing them all together still makes me want to marvel at your brain…

MC: Can I absorb some of your wisdom by reading these articles?

Lucien: I don't think so.

With a lingering inflection, he leans down slightly and pecks my lips.

Lucien: [chuckles, then whispers] But maybe this way you can.

His earnest demeanor makes it impossible for me to suppress a smile.

MC: Hehe, with Professor Lucien sharing his wisdom with me, I'll definitely be able to read research papers with ease in the future!

As I speak, I flip through the pages and quickly find Lucien's article among them.

Unfamiliar foreign languages and complex technical terms occasionally trip me up as I read, but it doesn't stop me from carefully perusing the text bit by bit.

In his concise and clear theories, it feels like I can see every dull piece of data he recorded and every sleepless night he endured.

And there's also that curiosity that never extinguished, even after countless failed attempts.

Merely watching him moving forward fills me with immense pride.

Unconsciously, I reach the end of the paper, and suddenly, I feel as though I see my name flash before my eyes.

I calm myself and carefully read through the last section once again.

The next moment, as my gaze flicks over the acknowledgments section, I feel my heart skip a beat.

There, my own name actually appears-

And finally, I would like to thank my dear (y/n)-

--whose love and support has always been the driving force pushing me forward.

I stare at him in disbelief, but he just looks at me and smiles.

Having a faint idea of what's going on, I proceed to flip through several other journals.

Without exception, there's a line of acknowledgment dedicated to me after each of his articles.

An indescribable surge of emotions overwhelms me, leaving me momentarily speechless, but he instantly pulls me into his arms with a chuckle.

Lucien: [chuckles, then whispers] What to do.

Lucien: Seeing my little lady so surprised, it seems I can't easily showcase my research results in the future.

His pretended distress amuses me, and I lightly pat him on the shoulder.

MC: You know very well that I'm very happy.

He pulls me into his hug, his chin rubbing against the top of my head.

Lucien: [whispers softly] Um, of course I do.

Lucien: [x2] It's just that seeing you happy because of me, I can't help but feel happy too.

MC: You never mentioned it before.

He looks into my eyes as if trying to see into my heart.

Lucien: [x3] Just like eating and sleeping every day, I don't seem to feel that this is something necessary to mention specifically.

Lucien: [x4] Just as you appear in every corner of my life…

Lucien: [x5] I naturally think of you in the moment of completing an article, and naturally want to express thank you to you.

Lucien: [x6] This natural feeling…

Lucien: [x7]...is like when spring arrives, flowers will naturally bloom.

My heart feels like it's being gently tickled by his whispers, making me unable to resist any longer, so I stand on tiptoe and kiss him.

The next moment, he gently lifts me up, quietly closing the distance between us.

The gauze curtains sway, casting a touch of charm onto the light and shadow falling upon us.

Perhaps it's an illusion, but after he removes his glasses, those eyes that have always been looking at me seem even deeper.

I stare at his handsome features in a trance, unaware of the sudden strength supporting my lower back.

With my soft exclamation, the already close distance becomes even more intimate, not leaving any gap.

His lowered lashes tremble lightly, brushing against my cheeks like butterfly wings.

I have to close my eyes so that my heart doesn't beat too chaotically.

His hot breath lingers on the corner of my lips for a while before finally enveloping it eagerly.

The pleasant breath gradually penetrates my lips and mouth, and then spreads all over my body, making me completely surrender myself to him.

In my hazy consciousness, I faintly hear the sound of flowers blooming.

My next spring with him- really seems to have arrived.

[thesleepyskipper]

Six Sentence Sunday!

Thanks to these lovelies for the tags today! @sophie1973, @orchidscript, @run-for-chamo-miles, @tinyarmedtrex, @getmehighonmagic

@henryspearl, @tailsbeth-writes, @iboatedhere as well as everyone who tagged me on Wednesday as well! It was a crazy week but we made it through!

I'm VERY excited that after many months, my fic "the shower one" (which will certainly get a new proper title 😂) is now written and beta read and will be posted imminently (likely tomorrow!) so this is the final snippet to share! I'm actually really fucking proud of this one so I hope everyone enjoys it!

Alex both loves and hates who he’s become - traipsing across the world for secret hookups with the closeted prince of another country. Truthfully though, these hookups re-energize him. They breathe life back into his mundane existence, the one that focuses only on how much work he can get done, his value seemingly tied to his productivity. Here, he can move without hurrying, he can focus on one thing at a time instead of trying to set the world record for multitasking. Every time he gets to lay his hands on Henry’s skin, he remembers why he’s here; the way it resets his brain. 

He remembers how badly he needs this.

Tags below the cut, crossing our fingers for an emmy win!

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