#Infinite Expanse of the Universe

[epicstoriestime]

The Observer’s Report: A Cosmic Rendezvous with Ancient Puma Punku

Fresh from his exhilarating quantum leap through time and space, our extraterrestrial observer, clad in his silver, metallic uniform that shimmered under the ethereal glow of his home planet, returned from Puma Punku. He was ready to share tales of an ancient civilization and its architectural marvels. In the Great Hall of Enlightenment, a congregation of his peers, their curiosity piqued,…

[hpmystic]

Letterology

MUSHROOM =122 =5 8 Letters = Infinite 8 and OO = Sight Vision Starts and ends with M =13 =4 13 is the number of the MATRIX =85 =4 MUSHROOM breaks the MATRIX The same way 5 breaks a 4 Lets you see past the illusion From beginning to end

[gouinisme]

ok. either we have a tmagp exclusive mostly sea based vast adjacent entity or this is just the vast seeping into the tmagp universe.

luke's old non watery band wasn't super successful and he needed money from alice like two months ago while his current 2 watery bands are suspiciously successful. so i think it's probable he's made some sort of deal and/or exchange jennifer's body style to get success. plus a drowning victim with a tape recorder popped up behind their venue and that means interdimensional bullshit to me but i could be wrong

anyways i love my watery boy whatever evils he may have commited

[ms-hells-bells]

how do u know the mathematical probability of the likelihood of extraterrestrial life or aliens visiting earth if we don’t have enough data on it. probabilities are based on observational data. not saying either is a realistic bet (not saying they’re not) because science isn’t determined by hypotheticals but also how can you eliminate the possibility or make a definitive statement that’s backed by stats if you don’t actually have data. if anything, making a crude estimate, the systems that we’ve explored aside from ours so far haven’t been found to have life so it would actually be more accurate to say extraterrestrial life doesn’t exist, right? but really we don’t have a large enough sample size.

'science isn't determined by hypotheticals' oh okay, you're just stupid.

[qwuilleran]

I finally watched it and I am kicking my little atheist child self for writing it off solely for its use of the Christian Sins. I might have been profoundly affected by the lesson of pay it forward.

listen…i’ll probably never get over how good brotherhood’s first opening was

[deadsetobsessions]

I just really like the trope of Danny getting summoned, alright?

——

After he shoved Pariah Dark in his coffin shaped locker what what Danny hoped to be for all of eternity, the half unfortunately inherited all of Pariah’s responsibilities.

“What was it again? With great powers comes great responsibilities?” Danny let his head hit the table with an audible thunk. He’s in his “office,” the ghost zone’s approximation of where he might be able to do work seriously. The house- the extension of his haunt- had added the room right next to his bedroom. Danny had to lift all of the paperwork from Pariah’s castle (that’s now also a part of what’s considered Danny’s but he doesn’t think about that) and move it to his main haunt.

He prayed to the universe at large to let him off. Danny hated doing homework- science not withstanding because at least he understood that- let alone an asshole’s centuries worth of work. Danny bemoaned the fact that he was elected the King. He didn’t even defeat Pariah all by himself, so why couldn’t the others do it?!

Like a wave of merciful fate, the beginning tugs of a summoning pulled at his core.

“Thank Ancients!”

Danny scrambled to grab a sticky note, unfortunately glowing green as things tended to in the Ghost Zone, and scribbled down that he’s been summoned and to not look for him until his vacation work was done.

With that note done, Danny decided to bring his A game to the summoning. Allowing his secondary form to wash over him, Danny quickly checked the mirror to make sure he was presentable. A bright glowing ice crown- not the crown of fire, because it was essentially useless without the ring and Danny wasn’t keen on being a king, let alone a near infinitely powerful one- settled across his brow showed his status. A cape, this form’s best feature, made of an expanse of galaxies, nebulae, and frost cling at the end was swept over his shoulders and pinned together with a cloak pin made of clusters of black holes.

A couple of additions to his normal hazmat suit and his trusty thermos at his side, Danny all but dove into the summoning magic with an excited whoop of glee.

As Danny got closer to the magic-made portal, he could hear the whispers of the living presences beyond it.

His summoners! Hopefully it’s not a cult again, even if he thought they were pretty funny trying to summon the king of the dead to kill more people. Not funny “haha,” funny weird.

How should he do this…? Scary? Funny? Oh! Or maybe he should ditch the crown!

Danny grinned, waving his hand to dispel the crown of ice. It was nice, but he was in a dungeon critter mood today.

“Oh, this is going to be gooood.”

Danny cracked his knuckles and put on the most dead-inside-and-outside expression he could manage, modeling it off of the Nasty Burger workers during closing shift. The halfa stepped through the portal.

——

“The ritual is completed! You will all face the might of Pariah Dark, the eternal king of the dead!” The villain of the week cackled as his cult cheered. Wonder Woman, scuffed and injured from the magical bolts these magic users had shot at her earlier, grimaced and raised her sword.

“We will defeat Pariah Dark,” she proclaimed. Her allies rallied at her proclamation and readied themselves for another fight. “This world will not bow to the likes of you!”

“We are all but mere ants before the king of the dead! Pariah Dark will bring forth the reckoning this shitty world deserves!”

“Actually, Pariah Dark’s kind of busy, so you’re gonna have to leave a message.”

Green Arrow’s arrow jerked towards the new voice. Batman paused, hand holding batarangs at the ready. He, out of all of them, knew better than to underestimate a young voice.

A gloved hand shoved through the green portal, using the edges like a door frame to heave itself through. A humanoid shape, with sharp ears all but crawled out of the Lazarus green portal. Batman wondered if this was what Jason saw when he came back to life.

"Lord Pariah Dark is busy?!"

The figure- a boyish not-human- heaved a sigh. "Do you people seriously think that the High King of the Infinite Realms isn't swamped with work?"

"And who are you supposed to be? His secretary?" Hal asked, Ring glowing and at the ready. Wonder Woman tensed and mentally struck Hal away from the list of people to consider for diplomatic missions.

"Me? I'm a glorified paper pusher." The being turned back to the cultists, his cape containing the universe swished behind him. "Did you have a message for Pariah Dark?"

"He was meant to rain down death and destruction!"

"Okay, first of all, I feel like you guys are missing a really important point." The being pointed at the cult leader. “It’s not called the King of the Dead for no reason, you know. Death comes for everyone eventually. Also, I have to do a seriously giant amount of paperwork every time one of you fruitloops gets the bright idea to cause an influx of deaths.”

Danny stomped across the circle, grabbed the collar of the cultist leader’s cloak and yanked him down. He shook him. “Do you people have any idea how annoying it is?! Huh?! Do you know how long the A-354 Form is?! Stop trying to get Pariah to kill people! I’m sick of the paperwork, dammit!”

"How- how did you get out of the circle?!"

The cultists and the heroes squared up, ready to fight the possible common enemy: Danny.

Danny is having the best time of his half life. Screw kingly dignity, Danny’s gotta de-stress somehow! He had a whole bag of complaints!

"You wrote the circle wrong, idiots! Ancients, are you people even literate? What even are those scribbles?" Danny kept shaking the cultist. Wow, what an amazing stress ball!

“Uh- hey, he looks kind of sick…” The Flash said, trying to be a good hero and mediate before escalating. Danny snarled and Flash held up his hands, gulping in fear as Danny’s eyes narrowed at him. “Did I… do something?”

“You,” Danny hissed. “You mother- fruitloop! Stop screwing with the timeline, you giant red-! Do you know how annoying it is to readjust the death count every time one of you little merry red jesters takes a jaunt through time and space?! Do you even know how many complaints I had to field?! Oh, boy you’re all going to regret summoning me today, because I’ve had a long time to think about what I’d do to everyone who made me work overtime!”

Danny bared his teeth, eyes sparkling with mirth as he froze the cultists.

"We're not letting you take over the world," Hawk-Woman said, raising her mace that pulsed with electricity.

Danny snorted to hide his wince. "I'm not interested. Just let me punch him once. Just once." Danny pointed at the Flash.

"Honestly, I can't even blame you," Black Canary muttered, fists raised.

"Wha-! Canary! That's so rude! You traitor!"

"Shouldn't have put skittles in my shoes then. Those hurt, Flash."

"Enough." Everyone shut up at the sound of Batman's command. "What do you mean they wrote the circle wrong."

Danny, who was watching the byplay with interest, shrugged. "They wanted to summon the Ghost King, right? We've had a... change of leaders recently."

"Who is the leader now?"

Danny waggled a finger at Batman. "Nuh-uh. I'm gonna collect my over-time compensation, which is punching the Flash, and then we can negotiate for information."

"Flash."

"I don't want to get punched, Bats!"

"The alternative is that I let the current Ghost King have a go at you."

"Flash."

"Oh my god, just get punched, Barry!" Danny heard Green Lantern Hal Jordan whisper.

"Ugh, fine. No one video this."

Immediately, three phones go up to record the Flash getting decked by a teenage looking ghost. Danny floated closer and wound his fist back, letting loose some of the ghost strength he normally keeps restrained. "This is for my overtime and for Clockwork, you jerk."

The halfa slammed his fist straight into the Flash's face, knocking him clear into the air. Superman catches him but Danny no longer paid attention to the Flash, petty vengeance enacted.

"Honestly, I don't have a problem with you as a person. You're kind of cool. Break the timeline again in the next three months, though, and you're on my shit-list."

"What do you want in exchange for information?"

Danny hummed. "Depending on the level of information, and I reserve the right to not answer any questions. For the name of the current Ghost King..."

He did want that new gaming console. And Jazz could use some help with her rent.

"I want $5,000 and a plate of really good spaghetti."

"I have cash."

Danny nodded at the Dark Knight. "You just carry $5,000 in cash on you? Who does that?"

"I like to be prepared."

"And he's rich," Superman chimed in.

The Flash reappeared with a plate of spaghetti from an Italian place he teleported to. "Here you go. Fresh, and pleasedon'tscrewwithmyafterlife."

Danny shoveled the spaghetti into his mouth, jaw unhinging like a particularly disturbing snake right before he dumped the whole thing- plate and all- down his throat. "Thanks! The food didn't even try to kill me this time! You're good."

"Does your food try to kill you all of the time?!" The Flash- Barry, apparently- asked.

Danny nodded as he took the cash from Batman's gloved hands. "Totally. It sucks."

"Identity." Batman demanded.

"Oh, yeah. The current ghost king is me."

"...What."

"You have been swindled. Bamboozled. Outwitted and outsmarted," Danny snickered, shoving the bundle of cash in his chest. "But seriously, I'm the king. We got rid of Pariah a while ago."

The crown of ice materialized.

"You said you were a glorified paper pusher!" Hawk-Woman chortled.

"I am! I'm pushing so many papers across my desk, it's unending, I swear!"

Batman growled. "You tricked us."

Danny smirked, "You got tricked." Red Robin, in the corner, snorted quietly. "Anyways, if you've got more interesting things around here, I'll considering busying myself with that instead of sentencing you to an afterlife of paperwork."

The adults straightened, grimacing. "Beast Boy is green," Hal offered up.

"Hey!" Beast Boy shouted, offended at the easy way Hal offered him up. He turned to Danny. "But have you ever seen a green chinchilla? Super cute. Watch!"

"Woah!" Danny clapped. Yes, he'll hang out with them before dragging himself back.

[runariya]

🥸🪄🤫

Merman JK who placed a courting offer on a rock for a potential mate and human reader takes it. She also goes willingly to the mating cove not knowing JK prepared it for their mating. JK's yandere show at the end when the reader tries to leave him after 🤫

Note: JK wasn't really yandere for reader unti the end. He really just want a mate but because reader took his courting offer, she's it for him.

Thank u soo much for accepting reqs! And u write so fast how do u do that? Your writing is also marvelous!

(yandere+fantasy+smut) part of the prompt game pairing: merman!Jungkook x human!female reader genre: fantasy!AU, S2"L", yandere, merman!AU, dark romance warnings: oblivious reader, fluff, language barrier (merman-language is italic and blue), smut, a little bit of fingering, big cock JK similar to the shape of a whale idk man..., unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, panic, realisation, yandere, lmk if I forgot smth (still hate writing warnings) word count: 3.375

a/n: aaaah thanks a lot for your lovely words anony! I hope it turned out just as you imagined it 💕

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The ocean is beautiful. 

You remember a film once, where the male lead whispered that the moon is beautiful as a stand-in for "I love you," but for you, it's always been the ocean. The sea is your love. The scent of briny air, the soothing rhythm of waves unfurling endlessly against the shore, the gentle nibbling of curious fish as they dart around you in the cool, embracing water—all of it anchors you, providing solace in moments of sadness or joy alike. It's what love feels like, or at least what love should feel like, wrapping itself around your soul, calming yet oh so profound.

You always marvel at the depths of the sea that stretch out before you, boundless and mysterious, and yet infinitely captivating. Sometimes, in those quiet moments when the world recedes and you find yourself alone, you long not just to stand as an admirer of its splendour, but to be one with this vast and enigmatic force of nature. 

And so, as you walk along the shoreline, as you do almost every day, your bare feet sinking into the warmth of the sand, you're taken aback when you stumble upon a bracelet resting on the stone where you so often sit to gaze at the waves. It appears pristine, otherworldly, with pearls and shells glistening in violet hues beneath the afternoon sun, a beauty far too rare to be discarded by chance on a lonely shore like this.

Your fingers trace its entchanting form, marvelling at the craftsmanship—the smoothness, the intricacy, though curiously lacking any engraving. You glance around, noting the empty expanse of the beach, and let your eyes wander across the vast waters; there is no one else here. The bracelet appears to be yours now by some strange serendipity, still, you hesitate for a moment, torn between leaving it behind and taking it with you, a part of you reluctant at the thought of it being swept away by the tide or snatched by a passing gull. In the end, you slip it over your wrist. But it doesn’t fit—too loose, and as you allow your hand to tilt, it falls away.

You frown, perhaps the universe is nudging you to let it go. But then, as you glance at the bracelet, now nestled near your foot, it occurs to you that perhaps it's meant to be worn as an anklet instead. That makes sense, and so, convinced by this thought, you sit down upon your stone and fasten the jewellery around your ankle. It fits perfectly now, shimmering with a quiet elegance in the sunlight. And as you lean back, stretching your arms behind you, allowing the coolness of the water to caress the tips of your toes, you know that it is, without a doubt, a beautiful day, and this small discovery seems to elevate it to something extraordinary.

It’s not long after when, suddenly, something stirs the stillness of the moment. You sit up straight, eyes wide, as not far from you, without so much as a splash or ripple, a human head breaks the surface of the water. Instinctively, you pull your feet close, nerves bristling slightly from the scare. “C-can I help you?”

But the man remains silent, drifting in the water, and as you squint against the sunlight to study him more closely, you spot what seem to be scales glistening on the back of his neck. Your mouth falls open in an instant—this can't be real. Yet here he is, a creature from tales of mermaids and mermen you once dismissed as fanciful myths. And here you are, unable to tear your gaze from his face, dark wet hair framing features both familiar and otherworldly, his violet-tinted eyes locking onto yours that sends a strange thrill through your veins. His smile, too, is not quite human but not wholly alien either, a delicate balance of sharpness and charm you think. 

“Wow,” you breathe, unable to conceal your awe, the astonishment spreading across your face in a grin of its own. He moves then, slowly, swimming a little farther away, and you feel a pang of disappointment, a pout forming unbidden on your lips. But just as quickly, he beckons you to follow, his gesture smooth and inviting as he stays near the shore.

Without a second thought, excitement bubbles up within you and you spring to your feet, hastily dusting the sand from your dress as you jog alongside him, eyes transfixed by the way his body moves through the water with such fluid grace. His tail—large, powerful—propels him effortlessly, and you're left torn between admiring his handsome face and the hypnotic sway of his tail. He makes it look so easy, this gliding through water, while you're struggling to keep pace, panting and stumbling to catch up with him. 

Soon, you find yourself before the entrance of a vast cave, its shadowy maw framed by a path of few smooth, small stones that allows you to cross where he has already vanished beneath the surface. Nothing would have prepared you of what you’re met inside. The cave is nothing short of paradise—sunbeams slanting through narrow crevices, casting a thousand reflections on the water’s surface, turning the space into a living kaleidoscope, while droplets of condensation plop gently from the stone ceiling, adding their own melody to the serene ambiance.

The merman is there, resting near a platform, still smiling that beguiling smile, making you approach slowly, leaving a respectful distance between you as you settle yourself against the cool stone wall. “It’s so beautiful,” you whisper, your voice hushed in the face of such breathtaking beauty.

He regards you warmly, then speaks in a language that dances on your ears like music, though you can’t understand it. Still, there’s an unmistakable sense of warmth in his tone. “I hoped you would accept my courting offer.”

You smile, pointing to yourself. “I’m ___,” you say simply, hoping the meaning translates through gesture. 

He nods, understanding the basics of this exchange, replying, “Mate.”

Thinking he’s simply stating that you’re human, you enthusiastically reply, “Yes! ___ mate. And you?” You point towards him right after.

His expression brightens once more. “Jungkook mate,” he responds, nodding firmly. 

It takes you a moment, puzzling over his words, and then the realisation dawns on you—he doesn’t mean ‘human’. He means ‘friend’. Of course! A wave of happiness washes over you at this revelation, more than happy to be friends with him. “Yes! ___ mate, Jungkook mate,” you repeat, beaming.

His eyes glisten even more at your response, and you can’t help but smile back, the sheer magnetism of his presence holding you in its thrall. It’s as if he’s cast a spell over you, drawing you into his world, his realm. But the moment is soon broken by the buzz of your phone, vibrating in the pocket of your dress, reminding you of your upcoming dentist appointment. Regretfully, you rise to your feet, an apologetic smile on your lips as you back towards the cave’s entrance.

Jungkook looks visibly disappointed, or so you think, as his brows are furrowing ever so slightly, though his expression is still one you're learning to decipher. 

“I have to go,” you say softly, “but I promise I’ll be back tomorrow.” You gesture as you speak, hoping he might understand. “___ mate, Jungkook mate. Tomorrow, sun down, sun up, I here.” You gesture dramatically to emphasise your words, and to your relief, his features soften, his nod of understanding clear.

With one last glance at him, you turn and make your way back out into the light, already counting down the hours until you return.

🌊

And so, seven days drift by, each one seeing you return to the cave, where Jungkook awaits with that silent patience of his, the two of you growing ever closer, your understanding of him deepening with each shared glance, each exchange of words. With every moment together, the awkwardness ebbs away, replaced by a gentle ease, as if you’re learning to interpret the language of his quiet gestures, his lilting voice that carries meanings beyond the reach of words.

It’s on the eighth day, after you’ve spent enough time together to almost convince yourself that you can read the currents of his mind, that something shifts between you. The anklet around your ankle, the one you now realise must have been crafted by Jungkook’s own hands, seems to have inspired you to gift him something as well.

“Kook?” you call softly as you step into the cool shade of the cave once more, a bracelet for Jungkook clutched in your palm, something you’ve carefully chosen, a small token of gratitude for all he has given you. You shouldn’t have called out, though, for there he is, as always, waiting by the platform, his strong arms draped languidly over the stone, his face splitting into a wide smile the moment he sees you.

“Mate!” he calls in return, the word making your heart twist in a way you shouldn’t feel. He means friend—but the taste of it is bittersweet now, the small seed of longing inside you growing with each encounter, but you push it aside.

“I’ve got something for you,” you announce quietly, lowering yourself to sit before him, close enough to feel the cool mist of water from his skin as his hand instinctively reaches out, resting lightly on your legs, as if needing to sate his curiosity for your strange, warm softness. You take his hand in yours—his skin wet, cold beneath your touch—and fasten the bracelet around his wrist. It’s titanium, chosen for its strength, its resilience against the sea, knowing it will last, just as you hope this tenuous connection between you will endure. “A courtship gift,” you murmur, the words familiar now—he used them himself every time he pointed at your anklet.

Jungkook stares at the bracelet, turning his arm this way and that, admiring it from every angle, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. He whispers the word that has become his tether to you: “Mate.” His voice is soft, reverent, as if the gift means far more to him than you had imagined, and his gaze, filled with such raw affection, causes a flush to rise to your cheeks, a smile tugging at your lips at his sentimental reaction. 

But then, before you can make sense of it, his hands cup your face with a suddenness that takes your breath away, and his lips press forcefully against yours. The kiss is so unexpected, his pull so swift and sure that you lose your balance, your arms flailing before they instinctively loop around his neck as you tumble into the water.

He holds you effortlessly, keeping you afloat as his lips claim yours again and again, his cold mouth moving over yours with an intensity that blinds you to the cold water. You had wondered, more times than you’d care to admit, what he might taste like—whether the salt of the sea would be a part of him—but reality is sweeter than fantasy. There is a hint of salt, yes, but beneath it lies something sweet, something intoxicating, that makes you crave more as his tongue slides against yours.

His hands roam your body, sliding over the wet fabric of your dress, exploring with a curiosity that borders on obsession. His fingers press into your skin, kneading the softness of your breasts as his breath grows heavier, more laboured. You can’t help but let your hands wander in turn, feeling the smoothness of his scales beneath your fingertips, the hard muscles that ripple beneath his skin, as solid as the stone walls of the cave.

When you finally pull away, gasping for much needed air, your eyes meet his, and up close, they are even more mesmerising—violet speckled with flecks of black and blue, like galaxies swirling in the depths of his irises, and you reach up to touch his face, tracing the lines of his cheekbones, his lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss, and you imagine your own must look much the same.

Your peaceful moment is shattered when something thick and solid brushes against your thigh beneath the water, and with a startled shriek, you push away from Jungkook, not sure if your heart starts racing or stops altogether. But his arms tighten around you, keeping you from sinking beneath the surface, his expression shifting to one of sadness as he realises he’s frightened you. The panic ebbs as quickly as it came, replaced by a curious calm as you peer down into the water, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever had startled you.

“Oh,” you exclaim softly, your surprise evident as you realise it wasn’t some sea creature that had brushed against you, but rather, something that extends from Jungkook’s tail. And again, you’re not sure if your heart starts racing or stops, when you realise what it is. “Oh!”

His arousal is unmistakable—large, thick, and utterly unlike anything you’ve ever seen, more like that of a whale than a man, and you swallow dryly as you force your gaze back to Jungkook’s face. He watches you intently, waiting for your reaction, his expression unreadable but his eyes filled with an intensity that sets your skin aflame despite the chill of the water and his skin.

A deep heat begins to pool within you, your body responding to the sight of him, the proof of his desire for you undeniable. It would be a lie to say you aren’t tempted—to say he doesn’t stir something similar within you, something that makes your skin prickle and lungs work overtime. The wetness gathering between your thighs is evidence enough of that.

“Are you sure?” you murmur, your voice still echoing in the cave, your gaze searching his as if hoping he’ll understand the question without needing words. And perhaps he does, for his eyes darken with something unmistakable—an answer, a promise—before he nods, pulling you closer once more.

His lips find yours again, kissing you with a hunger that speaks of deep, aching need, his teeth grazing your skin, his rough tongue lapping at your lips, your neck, as though he can never get enough of your taste. You lose yourself to it, the world melting to nothing but the feel of his mouth on yours, his hands on your body, the heat of his desire coursing through you like a you imagined devotion would feel like.

You help him rid yourself of the soaked fabric of your underwear, Jungkook’s hands exploring your thighs with barely concealed curiosity before his fingers find the sensitive skin of your cunt, teasing your clit until soft moans escape your lips, your grip on his shoulders tightening without much thought.

But you pull his hand away, knowing the water will only wash away your arousal, leaving you wanting. Instead, you reach for him, your small hand wrapping around the thickness of his cock, marvelling at its size, the way it seems to pulse beneath your touch. Jungkook groans silently, his eyes never leaving yours as you guide him towards your entrance, the size of him daunting but the ache of desire overpowering any trepidation.

You take him slowly, gasping as he stretches you wide, the burn too much at first but quickly giving way to a deep, overwhelming pleasure as he begins to move inside you with the little bit of his cock that fits, each thrust sending sparks flying behind your pupils. He holds your legs tight, forcing your thighs together around the remaining part, the friction equally becoming almost unbearable for you, his cock filling you to the brim, and before you even realise it, you’re crying out his name, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

Jungkook doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, his movements relentless as he fucks you with abandon, whispering words in his strange tongue, words you don’t understand but that seem to echo with a raw, untamed passion that makes your heart race all the faster, imagining he’s praising you, thinking that you’re such a good girl for him. 

You lose track of time, of the number of times he makes you cum on his cock, your mind a haze of bliss, his name the only thing you can remember to say. Each time you think you’ve reached your limit, he pulls another climax from you, his cock hitting every sensitive spot inside you with devastating accuracy, his low groans and moans clouding your mind even more.

Finally, you feel him tense, his body shuddering against yours as he buries himself as deep inside you as your physique allows, his release coming in thick, powerful pulses that fill you to the point of bursting. The sensation sends you spiralling into yet another orgasm, your body trembling uncontrollably, your mouth parting without a sound, as pleasure consumes you yet again.

When at last Jungkook pulls back, placing you gently on the platform, you collapse against the cool stone, utterly spent. It takes all your effort for the world to slowly come back into focus—the soft hues of the cave ceiling, the gentle lapping of the waves, the quiet drip of water from the ceiling above. 

You lie there, breathless, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts, like the restless waves outside the cave, wondering what you’ve just done, what it means, and whether you’ll ever be able to return to the life you knew before.

But your mind can’t settle.

The realisation of your stupidity and naivety crashes over you in waves—the impossible reality of sharing yourself with a creature of myth, the deep-seated regret that gnaws at you like a tide pulling at the shore, whispering that this was a mistake, that you should have known better, should have resisted. 

You find yourself wondering absurdities—whether a morning-after pill could possibly work against the seed of a merman, or if his essence would simply fade away inside you like mist, dissolving with the salt water, leaving no trace behind. Your body feels foreign, strange now, as if you've been altered by his touch, by the unearthly pleasure that coursed through you, and an instinctive panic rises, setting your nerves alight, urging you to flee. 

Your limbs still tremble from all the orgasms as you push yourself upright, hands unsteady as you try to find your balance, desperate to extricate yourself from the surreal haze that envelops you. Jungkook is still there, watching you with those mesmerising eyes, his fingers gently tracing aimless patterns along your exposed thigh, as if nothing in the world could be more captivating than the feel of your skin beneath his touch. His gaze is so tender, so filled with awe, that it only deepens the ache of guilt growing in your chest, highlighting the dangerous ground you’ve ventured onto. 

You attempt to pull away, to create some distance between yourself and the fantasy you’ve allowed to take root, knowing full well that this is a world you cannot inhabit, a dream too fragile to hold in the blinding light of reality. But Jungkook’s hand is faster, catching your ankle in an instant, right above the anklet he gifted you—an innocent token that now feels like a binding chain, keeping you bound to something far beyond your understanding. 

You struggle, trying to shake him off, beginning to feel more panicked than you ever been in your life, but his strength is undeniable, your efforts feeble against the power of his hold, of the very being he is. 

And then, he speaks—softly, with that strange lilt of his voice, but this time, not in his tongue. The word that falls from his lips is yours. The sound of it stops your breath, chills not only the air around you but you too. And in that moment, you realise what you should have known from the beginning, what you should have seen the moment you clasped that anklet around your leg—you’ve crossed a threshold that cannot be uncrossed, a line that cannot be erased. 

“Mate.” 

[ultimateblogform82727]

The Illusion of Time Time is a construct, a way for us to measure the passing of moments in a universe that is indifferent to our existence. But time is also an illusion, a concept that we cling to in order to make sense of our lives. I ve seen time stretch and compress, moments that feel like an eternity and years that pass in the blink of an eye. In the grand scheme of the cosmos, time is meaningless, a fleeting blip in an infinite expanse. And yet, it is the only thing that gives our lives structure, a way to mark our journey from beginning to end.

[cellarspider]

For anyone like me who's likely to have a cloudy night the next few days: this isn't the only day you can view the comet. I used my family's decades-old telescope to get a look at it on the 22nd, and I've gotten looks at it on several nights since, despite fairly unavailable viewing conditions.

Just be aware that even tonight, the comet's going to be faint. Bring binoculars to help you see it. A telescope is highly recommended: if you don't own one, ask around or look for a local viewing party.

And if anyone's wondering "is this really worth it?", I can share my own feelings when I saw it.

I haven't really looked at the night sky much in years. Street lights and new neighbors who think outdoor lights scare off the burglars we don't have around here have made it harder to see the stars. But I realized at 11 PM on the 22nd that the sky was fairly clear, the comet should be visible through a window protected from local light, and I remembered the old family telescope.

It took a while to get set up. Everyone else was asleep, so I was moving quietly, in the dark. The comet was too faint to see with the naked eye, so I had to navigate entirely based off of a star chart on my phone (Stellarium). Trying to remember how to find the big stars of a constellation, then chart out my course using landmarks of fainter stars, arranged in shapes I kept muttering to myself so I wouldn't forget when I went to squint into the telescope.

When I finally found the comet, it was so faint that it seemed to disappear if I looked directly at it. I could only catch it as I moved my eyes, like a ghost in the corners of my vision. But it was unmistakably different. A diffuse, wispy thing, with just a hint of trailing tail.

And when I looked at the sky beyond its halo, I realized it wasn't entirely black. Not hazy, the not-black had a texture that was perfectly unmoving. These were all stars, galaxies, everything, too faint to see distinctly, but everywhere. Uncountable in their number. In a slice of sky only one degree across.

I couldn't see the green tinge to the comet, it was too faint. Maybe looking through window glass didn't help with that. And the lens cap on the telescope squeaked abominably when I tried to put it back on. But it was 2:30 in the morning when I finally went to bed. I'd stared at the sky for hours, and I'd barely felt the time at all.

Girlies! Remember on feb 1st a green comet will be passing by earth's orbit!!!!!!! Make sure u take a sneak peek at her bc she only comes around every 50000 yrs!!!!!!!!!!!! ☄️

[leyiorr]

i wonder what i look like in your eyes.

gojo ⋮ geto ⋮ sukuna ⋮ toji ⭑ how they see you and what you are to them.

¡! wc: 1.1k

¡! genre: tooth-rotting fluff, awful + contagious cases of lovesick men, you're literally their reason for existence

¡! an: i dropped this on another account but then abandoned it so its being posted here lolz!

☆ - satoru gojo ⋮ a nebula

when it comes to satoru, he's always been alone in his orbit. a level of his own. he's a god among the mortal race; both blessed and cursed to walk the earth. he's his own galaxy - the brightest and the boldest.

yet his galaxy is unbearably lonely. it's expansive, a cosmic canvas of infinite possibilites. it's an inky black celestial wonder, one that leaves a hollow feeling in his chest.

until he meets you, and you become the only being in existence allowed to orbit with him. you're his nebula, chaotic and disorted yet so effortlessly the most beautiful element of his galaxy.

you blaze in brilliant, radiant light; core searing it's permeant place in the midnight backdrop. you illuminate the space with shades of the deepest indigo and violets, mingled with wisps of turquoise and teal. crimson and oranges are vibrant in your centre.

the colour stretches into the void forming intricate patters, ones he finds himself untangling to better understand you.

in the silence of space, your nebula spoke volumes; comforting him at his worst, lulling his mind into dreamless sleep. your edges are softer, the colours more muted as you bleed into him. no one can tell where you begin and he ends.

you are so so small in comparison to the void, but so unbearably bright that you light it all with practiced ease. he tends to watch in awe as you decorate his solar system; nursing new stars to weave into his soul.

with you there, his universe becomes easier to live in, easier to navigate. you're a cloud of interstellar stardust - held together by the gravitational attraction of satoru's galaxy.

☆ - suguru geto ⋮ the artist

to suguru, you're the best thing that's happened to him. ever.

anyone who sees him with you knows. they know he's infatuated, enamoured. he's so far gone that people often think that he's been blinded by love, but he has simply never felt an emotion so intense.

with you he thinks he truly sees the world in all it's glory, innocent and pure. with you he traverses unpolluted by the atrocities of the world, you who colours his world.

he looks at you like you personally hang the stars in the sky when night rolls around, like you paint the sorbet sunsets by hand. he stares at you adoringly, as if you chose the colour of the sea and dusted white on the peaks of mountains to keep them warm.

he peers at you like you solely gift the flowers with their petals, dipping them in shades you deem beautiful enough. like you create the sand from scratch and lay it in pretty semi-lunar shapes next to the ocean.

he gazes at you like diamonds were invented in tribute to your tears, like you drew the prettiest landscapes alone in the quiet, before the age of humanity.

he studies you like you've sculpted the very shape of his heart - every ventricle and atrium handcrafted with your pretty fingers. as if his very existence was molded by you, hence why you fit so perfectly together; two pieces of a puzzle.

he could stare at you for hours and days on end, eyes full of love for the person who introduces him to a plethora of hues and tones that he imprints on the back of his eyelids when he sleeps.

☆ - ryomen sukuna ⋮ the breath of life

sukuna is not a good person. everybody knows that. he's taken innocent lives, sapping their energy like it's nothing. he's all-powerful; he stands amongst the deities - gods who have the capacity to bend fate to their will.

but after millennia of having everything under his rule, he's gotten bored. he has servants to order as he pleases but nothing they do entertains him. the god of death is bored, embarrassingly so.

until he acquires something known as a significant other, the other half of his soul as the humans say. you're his breath of life, a release of old, stagnant energy. it's as if you breathe vitality into everything you touch, all life forms flocking to you naturally.

you're so much softer than he, touch delicate yet profound, an ethereal caress that lights sparks in his eyes. he tends to linger quietly by your side when you walk in the garden he constructed just for you - though he would never tell you that.

wildflowers are coaxed into bloom with you around, their colours a testament to your nurturing touch. the dew-laden grass basks in your presence, gleaming a shade brighter than before. even the trees seem to gravitate toward you, branches reaching for you as you pass by, their leaves sighing in contentment.

sukuna's convinced the waves follow your pace, each push and pull matches your breathing.

you were the essence of renewal. his world had found it's pulse, it's rhythm, as you dance the unending dance of life in the centre. you sustain his beating heart, so sukuna's oddly content with merely watching.

☆ - toji fushiguro ⋮ a lover

toji sees you as not only a lover, but the lover. the only one he will have in this life and the next. there's no after you. it's a forever kinda thing.

something so simple as the title of 'lover' is so complex for toji, a man who's a veteran assassin, a man who previously had no regard for anyone else.

you're the only person toji promises to protect, to never lie to, to make happy for as long as his heart pumps and his chest rises with each breath. you're a miracle gifted to him by the gods - though he doesn't know what he's done to deserve it.

he's rough around the edges but with your standing as 'lover', you smooth him out.

he subconsciously thinks of you, always worrying for your satefy. you must be a deep ocean of the emotion known as 'passion' because he's willingly drowning, not even looking for shore.

toji looks at you like you're an extension of himself, the other half of him that the deities intended for him to find. he can't remember times before you or imagine a future without you.

he makes a deal of reminding you that you are his, just as he is completely and utterly yours. as his lover you hold his bloody, beating heart in your hands; he knows you'll keep it safe.

he stares at you like you'll disappear; like he's not even sure you actually exist. you love a man like him after all - that's a miracle in itself.

[dezertvideogames]

The Subnautica of other fears

Subnautica is a game infamous for it's almost all ocean planet, underwater worldbuilding, and deep sea gameplay. It's also the bane of all thalassaphobia peeps.

So here's the subnautica of other phobias

Claustrophobia Fear of Tight/Cramped Spaces - The Forest Series : After a plane crash leaves you stranded in a strange forests, something increasingly becomes... wrong. The caves around don't help.

Scopophobia Fear of being watched or the center of attention - Brighter Day : A weirdcore horror game where something is definitely watching you and definitely following you.

Entomophobia/Arachnophobia - Grounded : You play a group of kids who are stuck in a "honey I shrunk the kids" incident. They are forced to venture across their yard, and survive the various common insects around.

Megalophobia Fear of very very very big things - The Utility Room : An experience. More of an experience then a game and fever dreamish, worth it, and mysterious all the way. It's almost as if the universe accidentally left one strange dev room behind.

Nyctophobia Fear of darkness - Amnesia: The Bunker (from the Amnesia series) : It's a first-person survival horror. You play a French man trapped in a bunker during WW1, while being hunted by something inside its darkness.

Autophobia Fear of being/feeling alone - Firewatch : You work in a national park in order to watch out for fires. Traveling across the Wyoming wilderness takes a complicated turn.

Hemophobia Fear of blood or bleeding - Iron Lung : What awaits you in the deep of a strange moon. Trapped in a submarine you have no choice but to find out.

Amaxophobia Fear of car accidents or being run over - Decimate Drive : After freeing yourself from a kidnapping, the world you wake up to is full of hostile cars.

Final Boss Games:

Lethal Company

Fun with friends :D

Genre: Indie Comedy Horror

Takes place on alien planets in outerspace

It's multiplayer, and very fun, but as soon as it hits the fan the sound design works hard to immerse you in the sudden loneliness. The games sound design is one the major players of Lethal Company's fear. As soon as a friend walks away the proximity chat teaches you just how separated you now are.

Before you know it you have had something unfriendly following behind you, and finally finding the silhouette of a friend in the dark you are betrayed by the creatures of the Lethal Company universe.

Fear of Darkness

Fear of Loneliness

Fear of Being Watched

Fear of Outerspace

The Metro Series

Genre: Survival Horror Shooter

You play the beautiful and amazing Artyom Chynornyj in the post-apocalyptic world of Metro. Developed by Ukrainians and based off the Russian book series + Polish fanon writing community.

The world of Metro is unfair and unforgiving, full of mutated creatures, and the leftover souls that the destruction of humanity left in it's wake. Crawl across the underground of Russian cities, or panic across the even more dangerous world of the destroyed above.

Fear of Darkness

Fear of Wild Animals

Fear of Deep Water

Fear of Ghost/The Supernatural

Fear of Insects/Spider

Fear of Heights

Fear of Dead Bodies

Fear of the Cold

No Man's Sky

The scariest game I've ever played. I don't know why, but this game freaks me out. I know the picture I chose was harmless, but I did that on purpose.

This game is beautiful, but don't let that fool ya. This world will leave you no hesitation lost in the unpredictable randomly generated horrors of space. From planet that are all water, to colossus creatures you see for only a split second, to the infinite colorless expanse of space.

Megalphobes and astrophobes, this is your subnautica

Fear of Outerspace

Fear of Darkness

Fear of Cramped Spaces

Fear of the Unknown

Fear of Very Very Very Big Things

Fear of Deep Water

Fear of Loneliness

Fear of Caves

Fear of the Supernatural

[cavalier-consciousness]

+ ISLAND UNIVERSE

William H. Hays (United States)

Island Universe

reduction lino print   

[celestialxgarden]

🐚 Message you are meant to hear right now. 🐚

“Carry me into the infinite night. Beyond all earthly limit.”

- Rabindranath Tagore

Masterlist

: ・ෆ・┈・┈・ᕱ⑅ᕱ・┈・┈・ෆ・ : ✦ : ・ෆ・┈・┈・ᕱ⑅ᕱ・┈・┈・ෆ・ :

Pile 1

I get the idea that there is a new direction that you are wanting to take your life into. A new passion or dream that you want to follow. I feel like you’ve been wanting this for a while, but didn’t feel confident enough to persue it. Your energy now feels very optimistic and motivated. This is something that you are really passionate about and have been dreaming about for a while.

I feel like that you are in a very secure place right now that gives you the opportunity to explore this new venture. I feel like there is a lot of support available for you if you might need it. This new direction will bring more abundance and prosperity into your life. It will allow you to be more at ease and to feel more comfort. I do think this process will take a while, but you’re probably already aware of this. This is something that you need to built slowly over time.

It might feel a bit risky and I think that you sometimes worry about the future because you are not exactly sure about how your dream will manifest. The best thing is to trust the universe and to embrace the unknown. I get the strong message that you should really continue to pursue this, because it will be so worth it in the end.

This new direction feels very inline with your destiny and purpose.

: ・ෆ・┈・┈・ᕱ⑅ᕱ・┈・┈・ෆ・ : ✦ : ・ෆ・┈・┈・ᕱ⑅ᕱ・┈・┈・ෆ・ :

Pile 2

I feel like you are in a phase of learning and growth. You are very focused on yourself, but not in a narcissistic way. You are trying to improve your life and to become more confident. I think your goal is to become more attractive and magnetic and to overall just be the best version of yourself. A lot of this is happening subconsciously. I feel like you are doing a lot of inner work to improve and better yourself. You are really putting in the work of analyzing your behavior and trying to understand why you are the way you are. This is really good because as you heal yourself and become more balanced, this will reflect itself on your physical body and outer world. Your internal and outer state are very much linked to each other. So as you become more harmonious internally this will mirror itself in your material reality as well.

I feel like you’ve already made a lot of progress. You are a lot more emotionally balanced than you were in the past. You have a lot more control over your emotions now and I feel like this is allowing you to tap into your intuition and to trust the universe more.

I feel like the message overall is to just keep going because the more you work on yourself the more abundant you’ll be in every aspect of your life.

: ・ෆ・┈・┈・ᕱ⑅ᕱ・┈・┈・ෆ・ : ✦ : ・ෆ・┈・┈・ᕱ⑅ᕱ・┈・┈・ෆ・ :

Pile 3

I feel like you are in a time of exploration and forward thinking, focusing on growth and expansion. There is a surge of optimism and a desire for fulfillment driving you forward. The plans you had are now in motion. You can expect success and growth.

There is a very strong focus on the future and the potential that lies there. But at the same time, I feel like there is a message of going within. There is a need for inner reflection and introspection in regards to the past and your childhood specifically. I feel like there are some emotional blockages that could be holding you back that stem from past memories.

It’s important now to seek solitude, so that you can spend some time with your inner child. I feel like there is a lot that your inner child wants to communicate with you, and there is a lot that you could learn. This is a time to be vulnerable and it’s important that you are really honest and open with yourself, so you can go very deep within. I feel like you might think that you already know yourself well or that you’ve already done this period of introspection in the past, but I’m getting the message that there are still some aspects of you that you are unaware off. It’s necessary now to explore and face these sides to you, so you can have more understanding of who you really are. Its important to remember that healing and growth don’t happen in a linear way.

By taking this time away and focusing on your inner development, it will really help you in your journey going forward. It will give you more clarity and ultimately more wisdom and make you feel more empowered.

: ・ෆ・┈・┈・ᕱ⑅ᕱ・┈・┈・ෆ・ : ✦ : ・ෆ・┈・┈・ᕱ⑅ᕱ・┈・┈・ෆ・ :

Thank you for reading my tarot message. I would love to know if this resonated. 🩵

[admiringlove]

promise. woah. i never thought i'd be putting out works so quickly again, but here we are. back to back, for @angstober. anyway. here is the third angsty fic in this little thing i'm doing. hope you all like it! event masterlist can be found here.

“what do you want to wish for?”

oikawa tōru asked, his voice a soft whisper against the night sky as the two of you sprawled out on the rooftop of your home. it felt like a scene pulled from a dream, the kind of adventure only found in childhood fantasies. giggles bubbled from your lips as you had climbed out of your window, heart racing with the thrill of rebellion, helping him scale the side of your house like an agile cat burglar.

the world below was muted, but up here, the stars seemed to dance, twinkling brightly as if they were in on your secret. you both lay there, side by side, under the vast expanse of night, the air filled with the sweet scent of freedom. though the sky was an infinite canvas of beauty, your gaze was drawn to oikawa’s moonlit features—his hair shimmering like stardust, his smile a beacon of warmth that wrapped around you like a comforting blanket.

“i don’t know. maybe… being friends with you forever?” you replied, the words tumbling out in a rush, your voice bubbling with innocent delight. “this is kinda fun! i want to do things like this all the time for my whole life.”

you giggled, feeling like a child again, wide-eyed and wonderstruck at twelve years old. oikawa grinned at you, that infectious smile that had the power to light up the darkest of nights. he had promised you then, with all the certainty of youth, that he would always be by your side. that nothing would ever change between the two of you, that your bond would remain untouched by the swirling chaos of the world.

in that moment, nestled under the cosmos, everything felt perfect. like the stars had conspired to grant your wish, sealing it in the universe's embrace as you both lay there, suspended in time.

but as the seasons turned, so did everything else. you grew older, and with that maturity came the inevitability of change. oikawa tōru, your childhood companion, blossomed under the weight of ambition, his dreams stretching far beyond the horizons you once shared. alongside his aspirations, his ego swelled, filling every space between you with a shadow of what once was.

he broke his promise a total of five times—each one a quiet dagger to your heart. five moments that etched themselves into your memory, forever lingering like echoes of laughter on a summer breeze.

the first promise shattered like glass was the one where he vowed to always stick by your side. you never imagined that the flickering flame of fame would ignite a fire so fierce it would consume him whole. oikawa was yours; he was your tōru, the boy who knew his limits and cherished the bond you shared. but the allure of the spotlight was intoxicating, and soon it became clear that he loved the limelight more than he loved the friendship you had built.

you had always envisioned him as a star, but this was a different kind of brightness—a dazzling glow that captivated all, leaving you standing in the shadows. the ooh's and aah's of admirers surrounded him like a halo, and while it stung at first, you learned to tolerate it, just as iwaizumi had. after all, the two of you loved oikawa in your own ways, even if those affections took different forms.

you loved him with a quiet intensity, a flame that flickered softly in the background, while iwaizumi’s was a roaring fire of loyalty and friendship. yet, it still hurt to watch the setter receive countless confessions, to see him chase fleeting romances with girls whose names you struggled to remember. each time he embraced someone new, you felt a pang of loss, but you buried that pain deep within, telling yourself that his life was his own. you had no rights over him, no claim on the heart that seemed to drift further away with each passing day.

in those moments, you stood on the sidelines, a spectator to a performance that was supposed to include you but had become a solo act. it was a bittersweet reality, one that twisted your insides with every laugh he shared with someone else, every moment that felt just out of reach.

“you know he’s a little slow on the uptake, right? he’s not the brightest when it comes to feelings. you’ll be fine, don’t worry,” iwaizumi often reassured you, trying to soften the blow. but deep down, both of you knew the truth: the great oikawa tōru would never see you the way you saw him.

the second promise he broke was to always remember you. once high school began, oikawa seemed to forget you, as if you had become invisible. even though you’d carved out a place in his life, it felt like you were no longer a priority. being the manager of his volleyball club wasn’t enough; you needed him to be as present in your life as he was in your thoughts.

he forgot you time and again. plans to meet at the local diner vanished as he canceled for a date with someone else. those fleeting encounters always ended in disappointment for him, as the demands of volleyball crushed any chance of a real relationship. even simple invitations to hang out with friends were brushed aside in favor of practice.

it was like this with him. distance that you loathed and his presence that you loved. someone who had become unreachable so slowly, it felt like poison flooding your veins and oxygen healing your mind at the same time.

"you love oikawa, don’t you?" mattsun’s voice broke through the chatter one day as the three of you walked behind the rest of the group. your heart raced, eyes widening as you grabbed his tricep tightly, whispering urgently, “don’t say it out loud! what if someone hears?”

“dude, everybody knows,” hanamaki chimed in with a laugh, “it’s just oikawa who’s clueless.”

the revelation lingered in your mind for days. was your affection for tōru really that transparent, so obvious that the whole world could see it—except him? the thought weighed heavily on you. did he purposely ignore the signs, or was he genuinely too dense to notice? it was a confusing puzzle you couldn’t seem to solve, even after turning it over in your mind countless times.

the third promise he broke to you was the one that stung the most: that he would always make time for you. as the weeks turned into months, you noticed how his busy schedule seemed to consume him, leaving little room for your friendship. he used to carve out moments for you, laughing and sharing secrets, but those moments had dwindled to almost nothing. still, you clung to the hope that he would realize how much you meant to him and return to your side.

the relentless teasing from makki and mattsun didn’t help either. their playful jabs seemed to dig deeper, amplifying the distance between you and oikawa. it was clear that their antics only annoyed him more, and each laugh felt like a fresh reminder of how things used to be.

you found yourself questioning where everything had gone wrong. you replayed every interaction in your mind, convinced that you had done everything right. you had been the dutiful friend, standing by him during his insecurities, especially when he struggled with that junior a few years back. you had supported him through thick and thin, cheering him on during his victories and comforting him during his defeats. so why was this bitterness directed solely at you? the confusion and hurt gnawed at you, leaving you feeling like a ghost in a friendship that once felt so vibrant and alive.

the fourth was that you would be important to him, always.

you felt as if you had faded into the background, no longer even a side character in the unfolding story of his life. gone were the moments when he would light up at the sight of you; now, he barely spared you a glance. sometimes, during practice, he might meet your eyes for a fleeting second when you called out corrections or offered advice to the team. other times, when you passed out water bottles, his hand would brush against yours for a split second before he flinched away, as if your touch were something toxic.

the realization hit hard: you must have done something wrong, but the weight of that unknown burden only deepened your confusion. what had changed? what had driven a wedge between you?

when you confided in mattsun about oikawa's reaction, he refused to believe you. makki simply laughed, teasing you for being "delusional," as if your feelings were unfounded. but you knew what you saw—how oikawa's face had briefly twisted in disgust before he pulled his hand away. it felt like a betrayal, like a silent confirmation of everything you feared.

that’s when makki devised a plan to lock you in the broom closet with oikawa, insisting it would clear the air between you two. you warned them against it, certain that oikawa would be furious, but their laughter drowned out your concerns.

the next day, as you were putting away cleaning supplies, tōru's voice suddenly broke through the mundane silence behind you. “makki said you wanted to speak to me about something- hey! open the goddamn door!” his voice boomed, frustration evident in every syllable as he pounded his fist against the wood.

your heart raced as you stood there, wide-eyed, mouth opening and closing in a mix of panic and disbelief. finally, you managed to reply, “they did this on purpose. just let it be. mattsun will open the door in a bit.” your voice was barely a whisper, uncertainty coursing through you as the reality of the situation settled in.

“but why? this is just stupid and annoying, and i really don’t want to be here. i have to be somewhere right now,” he complained, groaning as he slid down the wall and settled onto the floor. the weight of his irritation hung heavily in the air, making it hard to breathe.

you stood there for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest. biting your lip, you mustered the courage to ask, “do you hate me?”

“what?” oikawa blinked in surprise, his expression a mix of confusion and disbelief. “the heck does that mean?”

“it’s a simple question,” you pressed, determination lacing your words. “do you hate me?”

“no?” he replied, shrugging as if it were the most casual thing in the world. “i don’t think of you enough to feel anything.”

the bluntness of his words hit you like a physical blow. it stung more than you’d anticipated, a sharp pang of hurt that settled deep in your chest. in that moment, you realized the days when he would boast about being your best friend—someone who understood every nook and cranny of your life—were truly over.

here you were, still gazing at him with the belief that he held the strings that commanded the universe, while he seemed to regard you as an afterthought. you felt invisible, like a ghost haunting the periphery of his life, and the realization that he didn’t spare you a single thought throughout his day crushed your spirit.

“right,” you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips. “sorry I asked.”

he shrugged, nonchalant, and you called out, “mattsun? open the door, please?”

the door swung open immediately, and you heard the thudding footsteps of your friends dashing away, eager to avoid oikawa’s wrath. stepping out of the broom closet, you felt a heavy weight settle on your chest, and you walked away before he could say anything, needing space to breathe.

maybe makki was right. maybe you were delusional.

the fifth and final promise—or perhaps lie—was that he would always be by your side and never hurt you, no matter what.

now, here you were, standing behind him in the gym after they had lost to karasuno. oikawa kept serving the ball over and over, pretending to receive it again and again until he could finally get it right. he couldn’t understand what he did wrong, and the tension hung thick in the air. iwaizumi was there with you, attempting to coax the setter into stopping, but nothing worked. all you could do was watch as he spiraled into frustration, destroying himself with each failed attempt, wracked with the belief that he wasn’t trying hard enough—that he wasn’t good enough.

“oikawa, that’s enough!” you called, stepping toward him and grabbing his arm gently. “come on, let’s go home. it’s dark out-”

“let go of me!” he shouted, jerking his arm away. in his sudden movement, he lost his balance and fell hard onto the gym floor. a yelp escaped his lips, and without a second thought, you crouched down to his level, instinctively reaching out to help him.

“are you okay? come on, let’s get to the nurse’s office. they probably still have some medicine or sprays-”

“i don’t need you parading over me like a fucking basket case!” he yelled, the frustration spilling over in his voice. “i’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. i’m not a loser!”

“oi, watch it,” iwaizumi’s voice cut through the tension, firm yet concerned. “be glad someone’s still trying to help you.”

“well, i hate them! i hate them for pitying me, and i hate them for sticking around in my life like a fucking housefly!” he snapped, gritting his teeth as he struggled to stand. you knew he had likely sprained his knee in the fall, and you reached out, grabbing his shoulder to steady him as he wobbled. your lips pressed into a thin line, resolute but unreadable.

“let’s go to the nurse’s office,” you said, your voice devoid of any emotion. iwaizumi stepped closer, ready to take your place, but you shook your head.

“i got this. don’t worry. you pack up; I’ll get his knee wrapped and go home.”

the resolve in your voice echoed in the gym, a quiet determination amid the chaos surrounding you. oikawa stared at you, uncertainty flickering across his features, but you knew you couldn’t let him fall apart. not now.

you walked alongside him, your grip tightening around his arm whenever he faltered, fighting to maintain his balance. as you reached the nurse's office, you pushed the door open, the quiet space greeting you with a sense of foreboding. you knew the room would be empty at this hour, so you guided oikawa to sit on one of the beds, his weight leaning heavily against you.

you stepped toward the cabinet, your heart pounding in your chest as you reached up to retrieve the relief sprays and bandages. when you turned back, you found oikawa staring at you, disbelief etched across his features as you approached. slowly, you knelt before him, examining his knee, which was already starting to bruise ominously.

“why are you doing this? i just said i hate you,” he muttered, his voice wavering. you didn’t reply, keeping your lips pressed together in a straight line as you focused on the ugly discoloration forming on his skin. gently, you sprayed the cooling relief over the bruise, and he flinched at the sensation, a wince crossing his face.

the silence in the room felt unbearable, an agonizing pause hanging between you like a chasm. finally, you whispered, “i’ll bandage you up, and then iwa-san will take you home.”

“say something!” he snapped, his voice piercing through the stillness and making you clench your jaw. you finally met his gaze, frustration bubbling to the surface. “what the hell do you even want me to say? you don’t have enough time in your day to think of me while i was in love with you all along! and now i’ve just found out you hate me when i don’t even know what the fuck i’ve done. so pray tell, what exactly do you want me to say to you? what do you think is left?”

he blinked, mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air, before mumbling something unintelligible under his breath. irritation flared within you, and you raised an eyebrow. “hello? i don’t have superhuman hearing. you’re going to have to speak up if you want me to hear what you have to say.”

“i thought you were different!” he shouted, his voice echoing in the small room. the force of his words caught you off guard, and you blinked in surprise. before you could respond, he continued. “i thought our relationship would stay the same, but you started liking me like everyone else. i thought you weren’t any different.”

“you’re a dumb fucking idiot,” you retorted, stepping back from him, your heart racing. incredulous laughter bubbled up from your chest, a mix of disbelief and anger. “are you serious? you made me think you hated me just because i fell in love with you? oikawa, what is wrong with you?”

“i don’t know, i just—”

“did you ever stop and think about the fact that i never did anything about my feelings because i respected your goals in life?” you challenged, your eyes narrowing. your frustration turned into sharp words. “did you ever use your brain? or do you only pretend to have one in front of other people?”

he blinked at you, the realization dawning on his face as he struggled to formulate an apology. but you shook your head, cutting him off. “save it. i’m done with you. and i’m done with this stupid club. i quit.”

you walk toward the door, each step feeling heavier than the last, as if the weight of your emotions is anchoring you down. for a fleeting moment, a part of you wishes he would call out to you, that the twelve-year-old boy who once convinced you to climb onto your roof to stargaze would surface again, pleading for you to stay. but that part of him is gone, replaced by the distance that has grown between you.

you pause briefly at the entrance, your hand lingering on the doorknob. a sigh escapes your lips, a mix of relief and sorrow, before you finally push the door open and step into the hallway. the quiet thud of the door closing behind you resonates in the stillness, a finality that feels like an unspoken farewell.

as you walk away, the realization sinks in: oikawa tōru was never yours to begin with. he was a comet streaking across the sky, brilliant and untouchable, while you were left on the ground, staring up at him in awe, wishing for a connection that was never meant to be.

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[queer-little-demigod]

you’re so very special - clarisse la rue

summary she realises the mistake she made, but have you already slipped through her fingers?

fic type angst/fluff

pairing clarisse la rue x fem!hades!reader

word count 1k

warnings grovelling clarisse, angst, fluff

masterlist i wish i were special (pt.1)

For the next few weeks, she noticed you. You stood out in every crowd, even in your Camp Half-Blood t-shirt, even in the same clothes you wore every day, you stood out like a splash of red on a white canvas.

Gods, it killed her inside.

She replayed it in her head–the way your eyes had emptied of all emotion. Those eyes which were the darkest brown, devoid of colour yet so vivid with feeling, had simply become flat. She thought of how your face fell when she told you that glory mattered more than you did. How could she ever say that? How did it even cross her mind?

How could she give in to the heartlessness of her godly parent so easily?

Glory was transient. It was finite, it wasn't permanent. It was the way youth vanishes from one's body, the way buildings crumble with time, and the way swords dull with use.

You were intransient, a constant, infinite. You were the intransience of the sea, the permanence of the sun rising in the east, the infinite expanse of the universe. You weren't glory, you were love, you were kindness, you were everything.

When did that change?

She sat in the amphitheatre, talking to her friends. Their chatter faded to the background, everything vanished for her as her eyes landed on you–sitting alone with your eyes trained on nothing in particular. She felt her annoyance increase as she saw a group of people right beside you, forming such a close knit that they physically barred you from inclusion.

Why did you slip from her priority?

She wanted to stand and march over to you, throw an arm over your shoulder and talk to you the whole night. She wanted to hold your hand and listen to your eager voice as you explained something new to her. She wanted you.

Your shoulders were slumped–were they always like that? You didn't move, you simply observed–was that normal for you? She hated herself for not knowing. She hated that she had neglected you for so long, so blinded by her thirst for glory, that she never saw how truly lonely you were.

To be lonely is to be in a crowded room with no one to talk to, but to be alone is to not be in a crowded room at all.

She was about to move to sit beside you, warring against her internal conflict between two choices–leave you be because of shame, or leave you be because she couldn't move with the dept of her regret. She had only just turned around to stand when another girl sat beside you.

She told you that glory mattered more, why did it hurt when she saw she wasn't the one beside you?

Her heart ached–no, it burned when she saw your eyes light up. She used to make you look like that. You only used to look at her that way–as if she was the moon and you were an astronomer, ever in love with her.

Jealousy. An ugly emotion which didn't want to be felt, but demanded to be.

The girl said something, you laughed. Your eyes scrunched up, you clutched your stomach, entire body alive with mirth. How could you express so easily? How could you express with your whole body?

Why did she call you names? You deserved better. Gods, you deserved the world. You deserved to be looked at like you were a masterpiece, and the artist was marvelling at their work.

She hated it. She hated how her guilt, regret, and pain clawed at her from inside. She hated how she knew that no amount of screaming could ease this feeling. She hated how it was constant. A constant which reminded her of her blunder.

She turned away, unable to bear the sight of you talking animatedly to that girl. You always used your hands to speak, you spoke with your whole body, your eyes conveyed every emotion so clearly that you were an open book.

An open book that few tried to read. An open book that kept being shut and put in the corner of the bookshelf–forgotten.

Days bled into weeks, weeks into a month. That girl, who Clarisse found out was a child of Hecate by the name Zara, had gotten far closer to you than Clarisse would've liked.

Where she once had your time in the training grounds, Zara was there–showing you how to use her bow and arrow. Where once you both sat at the bonfire with your head on Clarisse's shoulder, Zara was there, resting her head atop yours as you talked.

Where Clarisse once loved you, Zara seemed to do it better.

All this pain, all this hurt, all this ugly, horrid jealousy, because she simply couldn't get out of the haze of glory she was in.

'You said I was special,' your words rang in her ears as she stabbed the dummy again and again.

You were so very special. You were the one thing that kept her from becoming the rage-filled monster that everyone thought she was. You were the calm that helped her crazy, the water that put out the fire of constant anger within her.

You were special.

Nobody had held her the way you did, nobody spoke to her the way you did. Nobody even so much as looked at her the way you did–with pure love and adoration.

Glory, glory, glory-- A persistent chant in her mind that she had used to try and quell her thoughts about you. A mantra that she repeated to try and get you out of her head.

She found herself approaching you one evening, as Zara had left you be to turn in for bed.

"Y/n–" She began, but the words caught in her throat.

Your eyes did it again. They lit up for a fraction of a second, but immediately dulled at the sight of her.

She was the reason why that happened. Her cutting words and insults and thirst for glory had consumed whatever little happiness she used to offer you.

"What do you want, Clarisse?" You asked, annoyed. You didn't want to see her, you hated how she made you feel now.

Or did you?

"Please, let me--"

"No, I won't!"

She recoiled. She deserved that.

"I just want a moment of your time, please, Y/n," she pleaded.

"Fine," you conceded. "I'm giving you a minute."

She breathed deeply, and exhaled to prepare herself.

War begging for death's forgiveness. An ever-present trope.

"I have been...thinking for the last few weeks," she said. "I--I realise how shitty I was to you, when you were nothing but patient, kind, and loving. You stayed when I didn't, you waited even though I didn't give you the time of day, and I am so sorry because I didn't realise how much it meant to me, your time that is, when I didn't have it.

"You are an amazing person, Y/n. And gods, you're so very special to me," she said, holding back tears.

"Didn't seem like it when you called me clingy and attention-seeking," you deadpanned. Part of you wanted to forgive her there, but the sensible side told you to wait till she completed.

"I know," she said, fisting her hands in her hair. "I know I haven’t been doing the things I committed to you, but I know now that glory isn’t everything. It’s taken me time to realise it, and in that time I lost you.

“You don’t have to forgive me, Y/n, but—but I swear on the river Styx that I will never, ever make you not feel special. Because gods, Y/n, you’re so so special to me, you’re everything, and I only—I only realised it when I became nothing to you,”

You contemplated. You thought. Clarisse’s heart fell—it felt like rejection.

But oh how her heart soared when you wrapped your arms around her neck to bring her into a loving hug.

“You never were nothing to me,” you whispered, pulling back to wipe away her tears which she never realised were falling steadily from her eyes.

How had she fumbled this? How had she prioritised a flag on a stick over those beautiful brown eyes of yours? Over you?

She smiled, her heart fluttering and racing so much that she feared she may drop dead of a heart attack.

“Let’s start over, hm?” You asked, smiling.

There it was. The smile. The smile that made the corners of your eyes crinkle and made your dark irises sparkle even in the darkness of the evening.

The smile she knew was reserved for her.

“Let’s start over,”

She vowed never to make you not feel special again.

Because you were oh so special to her.

Hi! It’s me, Lea! I hope you liked this imagine, feel free to request <3

[hwaightme]

Safe and San

THIS IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI FOR MOUNT'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut) (masterlist)

🟡 pairing: san x afab!reader 🟡 genre: smut, pwp, fluff, established relationship 🟡 summary: in the coolness of an early morning, choi san reveals to you what it means to love in a quiet timelessness, where all that exists is you, him, and the sunrise. 🟡 wordcount: 5.3k 🟡 warnings/tags: fiance san, falling asleep in the living room reading together, sharing hoodies, just loving each other, summer season - yes it is spring but now it is summer because san said so, hoodie san, cuddles, hugs and kisses, sort of edited sort of not (lmk if there is intense chaos anywhere) 🟡 taglist: @doom-fics @legohwa @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven 🟡 a/n: seriously idk where this came from, all I know is that I have been occasionally mindblanking and... here we are. Much love and all reblogs, comments, notes welcome <3

🟡 nsfw taglist: the petname content is intense in this one (sun, moon, stars, summer, honey, darling, love... nicknames...), all the praise, lazy sex, no protection (wrap before tap c'mon), cum inside, cockwarming, sex while in a state of semi-dress, fingering, the softest dom san, basically a service dom

The early morning haze entranced you. An ever-changing palette, the walls of your living room appeared to take on a different hue every time you languidly blinked, still fighting the heavy remnants of sleep. After having forgotten to completely draw the curtains, the luminescence of the cheerful, expectant sun crept across the cold wooden floor in a shy line, barely caressing the cream wall on the other side of the room, centimetres away from producing a kaleidoscopic scene by hitting the glass inserts of the shelving unit. The soft cushions that lined the l-shaped couch, and the woollen throw that hid you from the chill, were a cloud suspended in a tranquil bliss. You studied the familiar, adored surroundings as they metamorphosed from a lilac wonder to a glowing mandarin masterpiece, the brushstrokes of a pastel pink, coating the awakening sky, peeking from the other side of the window, capturing your bleary attention.

Not a sound, except for the level breathing of the man beside you. The man who had your love so fully, so deeply that you were not sure if the slow thudding in your chest was real, or was simply an echo, a comfortable illusion that you had agreed to settle for just so that you could give the heart away for him to keep. He would most definitely keep it safe. Find a neat little box for it, and, if you were lucky, find a place for it somewhere between the books and the video game DVDs, and admire it whenever he would walk past. Or perhaps he would be crafty enough to find a way of putting it in his pocket and carrying it around with him wherever he went – that way, you could miss him less than you normally did when you were apart. Shame you only had one heart, because you would give Choi San the universe if you could.

Your fiancé was like the grand starry expanse in the night, paving the way for explorers, lovers, and mystical creatures alike, and the radiant manifestation of Apollo in the day, bestowing upon the earth a hope, a heavenly brilliance, a magic the secret to which only he knew. With each moment that passed, you had come to understand that there was always more to San. Be it hidden in a sigh, in an enchanting glimmer in his eyes or in a simple gesture, he was an ethereal enigma that you were shocked, and infinitely grateful, existed.

Careful to not disturb him, which was a challenge in its own right considering that you had used his broad chest as your pillow, you lifted the throw ever so slightly and rose into a seated position. You gingerly adjusted the material back, and twisted yourself to be seated on the edge, and facing the literal sleeping beauty before you. You let your eyes travel across his resting face. From his forehead that was obscured by adorably ruffled onyx locks that poured out from underneath his grey hoodie. To his eyelids and lashes that showed the tiniest movement, making the soft light occupying the room land onto the little hairs and turn them to white gold. Down to the perfect line of his nose, the tip of which you liked to plant a quick peck on when you wanted to see your fiancé get flustered. And to his alluring lips which were parted ever so slightly. In the somnolent daze there was an angelic quality to him, a peace that you wanted to sink into and never depart from.

This was one of the first mornings in a while, that you had all the time in the world to keep on staring. For the most part, it was either you or San, or both of you having to get up and rush out of the door for work after having snoozed the alarm a ‘healthy’ number of times. Which is why it was surprising that you were even awake – five o’clock was not exactly your usual territory, and if not for the summer season blessing you with longer hours of sunshine, it was likely that you would not have distinguished between dream and reality, and dozed off lulled by the rise and fall that came with San’s every breath. But your wakefulness had its beauty: there was no stress spurring you on, and the sight of your love beside you, serenity written across his features, made you grateful for the surprising perkiness. For this short while, your personal heaven could be committed to memory, and serve as a transformation for every future when you would need to ‘rise and shine’.

You spotted San’s reading glasses lying, discarded, between his body and the back of the couch, inches from being squashed, while the books you and him had been reading were lying in awkward positions on the floor, much to your amusement. Careful not to damage the pages any more than they had been, you reached to pick the novels up, momentarily studying the covers before marking the pages with what turned out to be a folded receipt and a post-it with the glue segment torn off, and placing them on the coffee table. You settled back into a seated position, tucking one of your legs under you and pulling down the base of your oversized tee. A shiver passed down your back, reminding you of the fact that the air conditioner, your saving grace after the summer heat kicked in, rendering natural ventilation impossible if you wanted fresh air not laden with pollution and unbearable humidity, had been running at full power all night. Only now that you have removed yourself from the human radiator that was your fiancé did you realise this, and began to construct an escape plan that, hopefully, would not break San's peaceful slumber. If you were lucky, perhaps you could snatch and save his glasses.

These small troubles, trivialities of daily life were what brought a smile to your face. Endearing dilemmas that left you confident that what you were experiencing was a continuous blessing. Tongue between your teeth, poking ever so slightly out of your mouth, you concentrated on stalking towards the spectacles. Having stood up from the sofa, you were in a half crouch, bare feet sinking into the soft carpet, with only the rumble of the air conditioner to accompany you. When you were already hovering above San's chest, arm out reached to fish out your target, your breath hitched as he shifted and smacked his lips, following the adorable gesture by placing his arm, which previously was your only line of defence against falling off the sofa, over his abdomen, which in turn made the glasses fall a little deeper, just out of your reach. You mouthed a 'now what', contemplating your next course of action - you were getting cold, but too stubborn to accept a so-called defeat in this miniature game of capture the metaphorical flag.

The only way out was to summon the powers of feline agility and hope that San decided to be a deep sleeper today. Knee sinking into the edge of the pillow, the stitching digging into your skin as you inched forward while trying to keep a toe still on the ground, a peculiar source of security for the case that a quick retreat might be needed. Fingers flittering across the material, reminiscent of the pitter patter of rain - every effort to blend into the dormant landscape, an accidental echo of a season recently culminated. Closer and closer, your leg was a mere few centimetres away from San's torso, and you were arched over him, checking for any sudden changes in his position. But he was still. Almost too still. You narrowed your eyes and scanned his face, but could not detect any difference, aside from his mouth now being pressed together, however he did that in his sleep on occasion, so you paid it no mind. Suppressing a shiver, what used to be careful manoeuvring turned into risk as you took one final look at what you determined to be the sleeping form beneath you, and made a reach for the glasses, quietly hissing out a congratulations to yourself as soon as you felt your fingers touch the frame. Just a little more and you would be able to go get a sweater. Or turn the air conditioning off. Perhaps, since you were still occasionally blinking away the remnants of dreamland, you would get a cup of morning brew ready, and properly greet the sunrise by lounging on the tiny, but nevertheless welcoming terrace encased in shimmering glass. Or so you had hoped, until, as you were making your so-called journey back, a strong pair of arms snaked around your waist, and sharply pulled you in, so you now found yourself pressed flush against your sleepyhead love.

“Hmm… where are you going?” San mumbled, voice deep and groggy, resonating right above you as you wiggled to nuzzle into his neck, triumphantly holding onto his specs with one hand, pleased with yourself for having accomplished your initial task.

“‘s cold, so I need something warm.” It always took some time for him to register what you would say to him as he was waking up – on a number of occasions, he had not been able to recollect a single thing. So you kept your words simple, but even that made him give an exasperated whine as he hugged you tighter and rubbed the side of his face against your head, resulting in his hood being pushed back to reveal more of the heavily ruffled locks of jet black hair.

“But you have me… Y/N…” while answering you, San had managed to kick away the blanket fully, so that it now formed a dark grey heap at the other end of the sofa.

“I didn’t want to wake you, love,” you whispered back, shutting your eyes and relishing in the sensation, “you looked so cute and so peaceful.”

“What?” the sudden question made you raise your head momentarily, only to find San squinting right at you, “Nah… no.”

“No? My Sannie isn’t cute?” you asked, voice tinged with playful disappointment as you let your head fall back down, and took a deep breath.

Much like the early morning light, the mixture of cotton and San’s cologne was unequivocally captivating. It was the scent of the lazy days, the moments when you would allow yourselves to fall asleep, much like today, on the living room couch, legs intertwined after having spent the entire evening reading. An aroma of an embrace, a slow dance and a humming of a tune that only you knew, the notes that carried with themselves the melody of sweetest memories. The interplay of hemlock and bergamot, accompanied by heliotrope and mimosa – when you had pestered San enough times, he had read the profile out for you, the brief paragraph now forever imprinted in your mind in his timeless timbre.

A hand travelled underneath your t-shirt, trailing up and down your spine a couple of times before settling on tracing random patterns on the small of your back. You stifled a gasp as your fiancé took to toying with the waistband of your tracksuit bottoms, and, still laden with sleep, grunted and uttered his short, gruff retort.

“Not when I’ve read what I’ve read… ‘m surprised I even fell asleep.”

“Oh? And what was it you read?” a soft grin settled on your face as you sank into the feeling of San’s hands moulding you to his heart’s content. Unable to settle for one place, they roamed your body, worshipping every curve.

“Mm… too sleepy to explain…” he leaned into you, and upon nudging you to lie down a little bit higher, trailed a series of kisses down from your jawline to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, “…but I could show you.”

“Is that so? Well, I’m more than interested.”

“Wake me up a little bit more and I’ll give you a spoiler.” One of his hands travelled to meet your chin, and tilt it forwards so that his dark, glowing pools of adoration could meet yours, pupils trained on every micro expression despite being cradled in a blur, contained by relaxed lids and wispy eyelashes.

“Such a tease, Sannie.” You whispered, and gave into San’s guidance towards his soft lips, closing the space between you.

The infinite gradient of the sky’s spectacular hues exploded in your vision, as love’s intimate caress ignited a radiance within. With every passing moment, just as the cherry blossoms twirled to the ground in a muted waltz, giving way to flamboyant hydrangeas and mystical lilies, you too, fell deeper and deeper only to bloom once again with a new evolved adoration. A love that grew day in, day out. A love that motivated you to go on until tomorrow, for you knew that you would love even more then, and come to understand the naïve emptiness that you had trusted to be infatuation in the past. Fuller and fuller the soul became. The fuelled up inner fire that contained and protected your safe haven and your eternal paradise. While lilac skies and lavender fields blended into a heavenly unity only for a season, gifting natural beauty for a fleeting appreciation of its temporary existence, the reality that you and San had crafted was evergreen. It was, of course, expected to waver, much like any flowers that were meant to bloom, but together, you would sway and intertwine, two lifetimes turned to one harmonious duet in an everchanging landscape.

New leaves and blossoms replacing those that wilted, but to inexperienced eyes, devoid of recognising the impeccable, intricate details of time, it meant continuity. It meant immortality and a youthfulness that did not know time. This was how life with San had been and will continue to be forevermore. Each tender gaze and caress, the sweetest sigh into your ear was a rekindling of something greater, and left you in an ecstatic daze. The invisible paths of his strong hands exploring every inch of skin left behind a budding desire as you thought back to the transforming garden of hues outside the apartment, now turned to a colourful prologue for the beginning of your hazy summer day.

“Tease… I’m very polite, I’ll have you know.” You giggled as San broke away from the kiss, revealing his lovable pout. Unable to resist, you pushed your free arm up and cupped one side of his face, running your thumb over the cheek, poking his nose with your own as you broke into a wide grin. The action had an effect on San as he moved and tightened his grip to your hips, not once breaking his gaze, while the expression changed entirely.

Like a traveller who had finally found their oasis after an eternity of roaming the scalding hot sands, persevering through madness, he revered you. An unfiltered, unabashed, quiet love that could only be felt amidst total tranquility emanated from him as he resisted the urge to never let go, instead relishing in the beautiful, fleeting instances that you could spend together. Timeliness had taught him to treat each moment with special attention, but with you, he need not try. You were the moment. You were the one who shared his rhythm. You were the meandering river that he would forever prefer and worship over a roaring, cacophonic ocean. Elegance, grace – an identity that could never be replicated. In the rolling tides of strangers, he would always search for where the river met the sea, and would marvel at just how quickly he gravitated towards you. His priceless love and life, the one with whom he wanted to see every sunrise and sunset.

“Well then, gentleman, care to warm me up? Since I have been so politely intercepted.” The attempt at a joke flew over San’s head, but nonetheless, your wish was rapidly granted as he propped up his left leg so it was bent at the knee and his foot was steadily positioned on the couch. Arms still wrapped around you, he gave you another peck and inquired, voice low:

“Y/N, may I… roll you over?”

“Yes, you may. See? Such a sweetheart.” Words of praise always found their way into your responses when it came to your fiancé. Sometimes to obtain his shyness – a breath of spring, or relief – to last the autumn and the biting winter, or, like now, to lie down, impressed at the evoking of the blazing, sultry summer.

He encouraged you to give up any balance you had, and with impressive care switched you places, so that you were now the one resting on a fabric pillow, enveloped between the echoes of San’s body heat on the material, and the man himself, who had one arm on either side of you, and a goofy, proud smile adorning his features. Unable to contain yourself under his intense scrutiny, you raised the glasses you had been securely keeping, and unfolded them to try place a barrier between San and you. But to no avail. Reading your intentions, what used to be a pure cheekiness suddenly gained a darker colour, that of an intimate dusk, and lifting a hand, he hooked the spectacles right out of your outstretched hands, and raised an eyebrow.

“I can see you pretty well, darling. I am more than awake and focused now.”

He tossed the glasses onto the coffee table, sighing in relief as he saw them stop their sliding journey right before the far edge, which earned him a rolling of the eyes from you.

“All these efforts to get them, and you are ready to throw them into oblivion, yeah?”

“No idea what you mean, all I see is that everything is how it’s meant to be.”

The strength of his glances as he brushed your hair out of your face was reminiscent of the sun at its zenith, while the kisses he peppered on your forehead, flushed cheeks and longing lips were the rays of sunshine that would trickle down from the skies through cloudy barriers. The contrast in his light touches and their intentions as he slid a hand under your t-shirt and found your bare breast was immersing you in your personal summer. Your head fell further back, and you let out a satisfied sigh as San took the opportunity immediately, searching for the sensitive spot on your neck.

Taking his time, San nipped at it, while sending your mind into a disarray once his hand pinched your nipple and began to rub languid circles over its very tip, sending an electrifying shock to your core. One kiss after another, he was soon sucking on the sweet flesh, proudly giving life to a garden of unbridled lust spurred by a desire to show closeness. San wanted to melt into you. Melt with you. No embrace was close enough when souls could be together, and so through intimacy and the approach of ‘a small death’ did he strive to express his adamantine devotion to you. Any evidence of your harmony was nothing but heavenly music for him, and it was with pride that he claimed you, and was elated when you claimed him, be it in gratitude, in bliss or in frustration for your yet to be released high.

Your hands snaked themselves around San's perfectly sculpted torso, pulling the hoodie and the black tee underneath, higher and higher, until you could slip beneath, and your cooler skin touched his. The action made San stop his teasing and chuckle against your neck, while his body reacted automatically to roll his hips against yours, member concealed by layers of clothing growing more prominent and pressing against the material of his bottoms.

"Cold." The comment, uttered hoarsely though holding nothing but excitement for what is to come encouraged you to tilt your head and kiss San’s jaw, preparing to return his little, colourful favour.

"Told you."

"Mm, I know a way to fix that." Alas, you were not fast enough, and he lifted himself off you, the loss of contact making you whine. To remind you of his proximity, one of his legs remained between your thighs, knee too close to your core for you to interpret his steps as unintentional, innocent, serene.

With one final smirk in your direction as he caught you eyeing his body voraciously, San took off his hoodie, and motioned for you to sit up – only for him to grab your hand, and cautiously pull you towards him, grinning once you understood his mission and raised your arms above your head. It did not matter – the design, the colour, the cut… any item of clothing that belonged to him, in his opinion, looked better on you for the simple reason that it could hug your form, be an extension of him if he was away and could not wrap you up in his arms. At times, when you were showering, he would purposefully replace your clothes with an item of his just so the scent of your favourite shampoo could linger, and your image would be even more easily imprinted in his mind. Not that it was much of a challenge in the first place, but having all of his senses being preoccupied only with perceiving you was a state he wished could turn into permanence.

“Ah, but there’s a catch, my love.”

“Come on…” you whined and fluttered your eyelashes.

“These,” he grabbed onto the waistband of your tracksuit pants, “off.”

“Yes sir.” As soon as you uttered the phrase you noticed a lustful darkness flash in your fiancé’s gaze, one which he, much to your surprise, suppressed and shook his head.

“Y/N don’t do this to me, or you will not get up ‘til sunset.”

“If that’s your plan, would I even be able to get up?”

“And that’s why I want to make love, Y/N. I want to love you quietly… lie down for me, darling?” he requested, interlacing his urge with the words of one of your favourite poets. A tenderness in his directing you, how he reduced the bottoms and panties he had hooked along with them to a mere accessory on the floor, and how he caressed your thighs, revering every detail, was leaving you breathless. But, just as he was approaching your exposed, aroused sex, you called out to him, reaching for the hand that was resting on your leg.

“Then look at me.”

“Hm?”

“I want to see your pretty face, love.”

The dimples that fell into his cheeks as he beamed at you, crawling up to be right by your side much like a cat would, and letting you roll over so that you were nose to nose, sharing hot breath, made you fall in love again. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say ‘rise’ in love, for when you were like this, vulnerable, and yet so totally safe, you felt like you were soaring.

San took no time in finding your lips, relishing in the stifled moan that escaped you as his fingers teased your moistened labia. A leg resting over his, you were enamoured with the gentleness of his worship of you. The tip of his tongue begged for entrance and elicited a muted sigh as it entered to explore you. With an approving hum, San curled his digits and let your walls clench around him, as he proceeded to set an unhurried pace, knowing you, knowing how to coax out every feeble mewl and build you up to an unforgettable ruin. You had the luxury of time, every worry replaced with the opportunity to connect and combine into one.

There was an added pleasure that came with the surpassing of the excitement of your relationship’s novelty. The intricate mapping of your fantasies had now taken on a new level of complexity, and the sequences transformed into a language only you and San shared. Delighted in the lewdness of sound that was produced by the relaxed pumping of his fingers into you, the gorgeous man further deepened your kiss by taking the strings of his hoodie, now adorning your frame, and drawing you in. Whatever illusion of space between was now entirely gone, and all that existed for you was San’s touch, San’s fragrance, San’s body heat, and the knot in your stomach that was getting tighter his thumb ran circles over your aroused clit.

There was no urgency in his movement as he unravelled you, even though, as you adjusted your positioning, you became aware his stiff erection. The sudden friction caused San to gasp, and, when you brushed your leg against his again, to test the waters, he pleaded, voice ragged and airy:

“Let me take care of you, honey.”

“But San-” you protested, hand palming his length, but denied as he kissed the response away from you.

“You’ll help me out with that later.”

“But I can get an early start.” A final attempt, only spurring San on to push his fingers deeper into you, massaging your pussy until he hit your most sensitive spot, earning a yelp and an approaching tender pulsation.

“Needy for this cock, huh?”

“Ah…What happened to… mfph… sentimental lover boy?” you joked through shallow breaths, choking out every word as you clung onto San’s t-shirt for support in your approaching high.

“I’m still here. Still here… You look beautiful, Y/N… taking my fingers so well, dressed up in my hoodie…” he praised, emphasising his role in your unwinding. Gazing at the love bites he had left on your soft skin through hooded, lust-filled fog, he was motivated to give you any satisfaction you could possibly desire.

“Sannie, please… ah that feels so good…”

“Please what, darling? Hm, tell me.”

Continuing to relentlessly abuse your g-spot, San sweetly took in your writhing form, enjoying the power that he had in this moment, while a ray of the morning sun crept across the floor towards you, traversing the territory of the living room like a foolishly courageous voyeur.

“Faster, please…”

“But it’s so early sweetheart, don’t you want to take it easy?” he inquired, knowing full well that you would not give him a well-structured response, intoxicated by the intensifying arousal, climbing closer and closer to a climax.

“Ah… please… Mm… I need…”

“Elaborate, or I cannot heed to your caprices.”

“I need you inside me.”

“Is that so? Well, I can’t deny you anything, my love.”

Reduced to a whimpering mess, you waited with bated breath as San shuffled to finally push down his trousers and reveal his throbbing member, now adorned with rivulets of pre-cum after having been left abandoned while his digits satisfied you. In a matter of seconds, you could feel its tip against your folds, gliding up and down the slick until you inadvertently bucked your hips towards him, unable to hold on for any longer without a stronger stimulation. Luckily, San was in a loving mood, and submitted to your silent begging. Soon enough, he began to drive into you, so agonisingly slow so as to not force how perfectly your pussy accepted him, and once his pelvis was flush against yours, embraced you. He strived to have you entirely, as if, even when you were with him, he missed you.

Overwhelmed by the fullness your head tilted forward, your forehead meeting San’s as he barely withdrew his cock, and re-entered you, mumbling fuzzy words of praise at how well you were taking him, and just how heavenly your soaked cunt was as he went deeper, rocking his hips upwards to drown himself in your heat.

The world on fire, skin lapping against skin like waves of a mountainous current, painting the landscape in the hues of a blazing sunrise, much like how hedonistic desire washed over you. It grew at an alarming speed until it was threatening to bloom, a crimson rose of undying attraction and adoration for the man who was offering himself to you as your cunt clamped around him. San was entranced by you, and wanted more than what ‘more’ could signify, lifting your leg and throwing it over his to bring you to your sensual demise. Your grasp of his tee tightened as the pounding became hungrier, and you dropped the act of being able to contain a portion of your moans, letting the salacious melodies go right by San’s ears, interlaced with expletives and your beloved’s name.

With every affirmation to roll off your tongue that he had only recently confronted with his own, he would grind harder into you with ease, now that you were propped up just how he wanted you. San could never get enough of your flushed cheeks as the ripples of pleasure ran through you, with his cock rendering you speechless, muscles tightening in anticipation of a crashing orgasm. Only feeble, high-pitched gasps bounced around the walls of the living room, blending into the warm ambiance as your climax hit you – a monsoon, the season controlled by none other than your fiancé, who kept up his flow, mumbling barely coherent phrases:

“So gorgeous, my love, that’s right. Come for me, come over my cock-”

It was not long after your orgasm that his thrusts lost their steadiness, San’s grip on your thigh grew unbelievably tight and he dived to find stability in the dip between your shoulder and neck, leaving feathery kisses and biting the area to suppress his low grunts, now turned to helpless moans that served to prolong your own high.

The erratic motions of his hips culminated in a series of deeper thrusts as he buried his dick as deep as he could inside you, groaning as ropes of cum painted your still-pulsating walls, that seemed to be pleading for more, greedily taking every drop. You rolled your lower half a couple of times, ecstatic from the dizzying fullness that his cock and thick release provided, causing some of the cum to ooze out, threatening to coat your inner thighs. San had no plans on moving, at least not until mist lifted from his consciousness, and he could conjure up at least one thought that did not relate to having you again.

While his dick twitched inside you, you attempted to remain as still as possible, regaining San’s attention by whispering his name. Through half-lidded eyes he gazed back, sending you a shy smile so endearing, and so much brighter than every star, contrasting the remnants of earlier intimacy in the form of a bead of sweat that concealed itself under the hair that fell over his face, and the reddened, plump lips.

“San?”

“Hmm?”

“I’d say I’m very warm now.” He chuckled, making you bashfully glance off to the side, catching the reflection of the sky in the coffee table. The simple ability to hear San’s husky voice as he drifted with you in post-coital bliss, an arm lazily resting on your waist, was a blessing.

“Anytime, my love.” He matched your lightheartedness and squeezed your side.

Your precious sun and moon. The one with whom your heart beat in unison, the one who had read you like a novel, front to back, back to front until he could recount every detail better than you ever could. Time stood still as you lied there, on the couch, sharing addictive nectar and basking in the afterglow. The day only beginning, the room decorated in a light gold hue. Unwilling to part just yet, you shared another kiss with San, in adoration for how the early morning haze entranced you.