#None of the rest of these will be this in depth.

[betty-fran]

#but 'ofc he's a hedonist who doesn't want to settle down' as the default assumption just became super weird after the tos marathon#and the reluctance to see anything but this kind of healthy hedonism with some secondary goals in the flirtations/seductions#esp given that while he's an aspirational figure he's... uh. i don't think presented as. let's say. a model of psychological wellness.

(via @anghraine)

I couldn't pass it by, because lately I've been thinking about why Kirk, as a character, is perceived so differently within the fandom itself, and I wanted to put it all (some of my unpopular opinions) into a more coherent text.

AOS, like most modern media, does a pretty poor job of characters' depth, but that's precisely why, I think, it forces fans to pay more attention to the psychological analysis and search for that depth on their own. They try to figure out who Kirk is and what's behind his behavior patterns, and there are many examples of really good work on portraying a trauma survivor. It's a main reason why, for a long time, even when I started watching TOS, I thought it was some kind of exclusively AOS fandom thing (not Tarsus, of course, but all this SA/DV concept). An attempt to talk about what hurts, and what is familiar to the modern viewer, but which is difficult to talk about openly, as well as an attempt to give more sense to what is happening on the screen.

But if in the context of AOS, this is more fan reading than objective reality (again, because AOS was filmed primarily as entertaining action movies, and while I really like them overall, I realize that I want to see this complexity more than it actually exists there), TOS really has this complexity. And it really talks about these things.

TOS is generally perceived very differently by people, but in fact, I was able to explain it to myself quite unexpectedly - TOS is more theater than cinema. That's why it gives this feeling of "I've never seen anything like this in cinema before," because I haven't. But I've seen it in the theater. And like any good theater, it makes you think, speaking to you between the lines, through the acting, through the light, relying entirely on the viewer's ability to perceive what they see. It's a very allegorical thing, and any of its sequels (even the original films), spin-offs, prequels, etc., can't replicate that feeling. And here lies something, which, in my opinion, exists in the way TOS is perceived in the fandom, which has been oversaturated with information for 60 years. Almost no one perceives it as an independent thing. And under the weight of an entire franchise, something of genuine significance is lost.

TOS itself provides so much material for analysis that you don't have to try to see something that isn't there; you just have to look at what's in front of you. And that's why I'm especially in-a-bad-way-surprised when Kirk is perceived as misogynistic/cruel towards women/a frivolous womanizer/man-whore/etc, when he clearly isn't. He, and we're shown this more than once, sympathizes with women in a way that none of the other male characters do. He sympathizes with them from a very feminine side. And quite obviously, in situations with strangers, he prefers women's company to men's, not because he is a womanizer as is often claimed, but because, and this is actually very noticeable, he is more comfortable with them. I saw pages from Shatner's biography where he talks about an incident from his youth when he had a near-SA experience:

What happened that night changed my attitude toward women for the rest of my life. I understood the anger and frustration that a woman feels when she says no, and means no, and the man believes she is saying yes.

And speaking specifically about his acting, it's undoubtedly felt in TOS. That's what Kirk has. He understands that feeling of being treated like an object. And in three seasons of TOS, he's been treated exactly that way more than once. We have scenes of explicit coercion (through blackmail, manipulation, deprivation of the ability to control his own consciousness/body) into physical contact/sex that can't be read any other way. We have several episodes that, if he were a woman, would be perceived as blatant sexual assault/rape. We even have a moment (I honestly only remember "Wink of an Eye", but I have a feeling there was something else like it) where he is directly told that he is only needed for reproduction. Should we perceive it differently because he's a man?

For an entertainment show, it talks too much about traumatic experiences and life after them, constantly and coherently raising topics of the limitation of autonomy/violation of personal boundaries/physical or psychological abuse, and more often than not, does so through Kirk. It's emphasized how easily he separates himself from his own desires/feelings, and allows himself to be used, to violate his own boundaries (psychological or physical) if it gives a chance of survival (for himself/another person/the ship's crew) or to achieve another goal (which actually also concerns the chance of survival). There was an interesting moment in "The Lights Of Zetar" that I find quite revealing for understanding how deeply rooted this idea of "doing to survive" is in Kirk. When one of his subordinates is taken over by alien entities that are trying to destroy the entire ship, the only option to deal with them is to let them take her completely so they can be taken out through a pressure chamber. It's dangerous physically, but it's also psychologically abusive, and it's a difficult moral choice for her to make, which Kirk tells her with cool determination but also emotional understanding:

KIRK: They'll be here very soon. They may destroy you and us as they did Memory Alpha. You are especially susceptible to their will. But we have one chance to survive. Don't resist. Let them begin to function through you. If we can control that moment, we have a chance. Will you try?

And this understanding is not so much that of a ship's captain, but rather that of a person who is very aware of what it's like to let another take over your body if it means a chance at survival. A person who is well aware of what this "don't resist" means. This violation of personal autonomy/boundaries/physical and psychological safety is undoubtedly a dangerous part of working in Starfleet. However, there is a noticeable, and I don't think unintentionally emphasized, difference in the response to similar situations between Kirk and others. This is especially pronounced in Kirk/Pike parallels, which can be seen by analyzing Pike's behavior in a similar situation in "The Menagerie". Pike, who is shown to us as a model captain and a noble man, has a fairly healthy, distinctly masculine (and not in a bad sense of the word) reaction to the situation he finds himself in. He's naturally indignant, takes steps to get out, and keeps well this internal distance between himself and Vina/Talosians. As a captain, he's willing to sacrifice his freedom/his life for the sake of the ship's crew, but this is the personal courage he has as a person, something that still remains in the realm of beautiful heroism, noble self-sacrifice. It's not Kirk's survivalism, his ability to compromise his integrity, to let someone else get too (uncomfortably) close to him, just to have a chance, the real ugly and dirty face of survival. This is the difference that is traced in these two captains, this boundary of true understanding between "I am willing to do anything to survive" and "I can do anything to survive."

This is what generally makes Pike a better role model for healthy behavior patterns, but it's also what makes Kirk a much more meaningful character to understand. He turned out to be much more of a trauma survivor than the golden boy I expected to see him as, but it rather explains to me why he touched me so much as a character. Despite everything, he remains an idealist, a utopian, a humanist. It's not that he believes in people because he thinks they are good; he believes in them even though he knows they might not be. And this, I must say, is much more difficult and requires from you true kindness and the ability to forgive.

I watched "Measure of a Man" not long ago, and while it was indeed very good, the weird, toxic, bitter relationship between Picard and his JAG ex really made me nostalgic for one of my favorite Kirk/lady of the week relationships—Kirk and Areel Shaw in "Court Martial."

Kirk himself is the one on trial in "Court Martial," and Areel is the prosecuting attorney rather than the judge. They're exes in their early 30s who broke up in the past for unknown reasons, but are still fond of each other, respectful, and retain an amicable, pleasant relationship years after their break-up. Both of them handle the strain of Areel's professional obligations with maturity and grace, but not impossibly idealized invulnerability. Areel recommends a good defense lawyer for Kirk and regrets the role the situation places them in, but she also doesn't sabotage her case against him and is good at what she does.

The thing that really makes this a favorite "Kirkmance" for me, beyond all this, is that it's very obvious that both of them still care a lot about each other and remain deeply attracted to each other. Neither of them have anything to gain by this. They're both too intelligent and sensible to consider re-kindling their old romance; it fell apart for a reason, despite the lingering affection/attraction, and for pragmatic reasons, sex isn't on the table.

But both early and late in the episode, Kirk and Areel seem to enjoy the flirtation for what it is: not calculated or desperate, not useful, not some fridge horror dub-con scenario, not a high-romance disaster waiting to happen, not even a prelude to a one-night stand, just a fun and affectionate acknowledgment that the chemistry remains strong and they still love each other in a way. There's something genuine and tender and unforced about their flirtation and mutually agreed-upon good-bye kiss that is just so conspicuously different from the tactical Kirkmances. I think it's really lovely, actually:

[aziraphale-is-a-cat]

DCxDP Danny Jones

(inspired by this particular image)

The depths of Gotham harbor were, historically, not the kind sort of waters. Many lives had been hidden in their depths, taken by nature or by the nature of man. The coast itself was mostly silt deposits while the water was dark and cold. Many sailors had lost their lives to the unpredictable waters and only rumors told of the number who had been laid to rest beside them. Any day on the beach overlooking the Delaware Bay it could be assumed more people lay beneath the waves than were sunning themselves within their reach.

Danny had grown up landlocked in the great state of Illinois. He had never seen the ocean in his lifetime and generally considered his first experience with it to be the sensation of his death. The portal to the Realms was suffocating, and to his senses, endless. Crashing waves of energy had overtaken him as he felt warmth seep from him for the last time.

A new start in Gotham City was meant to help him escape that emptiness, but standing at the railing over rocky and turbulent waters dissuaded him of the plan's effectiveness. The currents were strangely alluring to Danny, and for yet another night in a row he watched the stars reflect off the water and wondered how they would look from beneath.

He knew it was a strange compulsion, given the reputation of the harbor, but it was one he felt the need to see through. Sighing, Danny made the descent down the generally unwelcoming beach. The rocky dropoff from the wall was easy enough to make his way down, but looking behind him he couldn't help but feel as though it wasn't there to keep people out of the ocean, but in. A wave rolled in lapping at his feet, an invitation.

The water was cold, a welcome temperature as he waded to waist deep, then further. As the water reached his chest he felt a cold hand wrap around his leg. And another. And more.

Being dragged through the ocean, Danny thought, was much less stressful when you didn't need to breathe.

-0-

Red Robin sat idly in the Bat-Swivel, wondering if the new case he'd picked up was a new rogue with a bit, or bonafide supernatural phenomena. One would think that after reaching a certain point in scientifically backed investigation that it would gradually be discovered that all presumed ghost sightings and alien abductions could be disrobed as pseudoscientific Scooby Doo style nonsense, but one would be dismayed to discover otherwise.

A new problem had erupted in fall, as what reports describe to be a drowned soul attacking and disfiguring prominent and low level gang members alike to be later found on the shores of Gotham Harbor. The attacks were committed in ways that at first seemed random, but many could be matched to the details of autopsy reports dating back decades with one thing in common, location of the cadaver.

Each body which could be matched to an attack had been discovered within or on the shores of Gotham Harbor. None of the attacks were fatal nor immobilizing, simply visible, as if the goal of these attacks was to display a level of brutality the victims may have taken with their own victims. The more gruesome of the attacks seemed to be the combination of multiple autopsy reports, which painted a brutal picture.

Tim ran his hand over his face, still covered by the cowl, and exited out from all applications on the Bat Computer. He paused slightly at the file explorer tab. He stopped to take a minute to rename the drive "Davy Jones" before ejecting the external hard drive the case file was stored on and packing up for the night.

[nooneelsecomesclose17]

Prompt: John somehow convinced Vic it wouldn’t be a good idea for Rob to stay with her. Aaron sees Robert sleeping rough with loads of cans around him, and it’s cold.

Aaron was just finishing off his run, contemplating dropping into the pub for a quick pint before heading home as John was off on some training course for the night, and he didn't fancy sitting at home on his own all night.

He was cold even though it was meant to be summer, maybe he'd grab a burger while he was in there, if Marlon hadn't fallen out with Moira again over her meat supply and taken them off the menu. Had nearly caused a riot the last time so hopefully his mum would put a stop to it if he tried again.

He decides to run up the hill to the pavilion and back just to finish off when he spots someone. As he gets closer he can see them trying to force the door open.

"Oi!" He sprints the rest of the way and nearly falls over in shock when he sees that it's Robert. "Rob?"

"Go away Aaron."

"Not until you tell me why you're trying to break into the cricket pavilion."

"Every man needs a hobby."

"Are you trying to get yourself sent back inside again!"

"Gonna report me?"

"Don't be daft. Come on, what are you doing?" His eyes roam over him, he looks terrible. Even in the low light he can see the dark circles under his eyes, his hair is flat like it was in his worst days after being shot. Then he sees the bags shoved into the shadows, the four pack of lager and what he thinks is a bottle of some kind poking out and his heart breaks. "Are you...Robert, were you going to sleep in here?"

"No."

"I thought you were at Vic's." She'd gone backwards and forwards for ages on it, saying the place would be too crowded, but then Kerry had moved out to help Eric and she'd changed her mind. He'd kept out of it then, it was none of his business anymore.

"Yeah well. She changed her mind." Now he knows he can hear in his voice that he's been drinking and he hates it. Robert's been drunk before, they both have, but not like this, and he feels like he's out of his depth. It shouldn't be his problem, not any more, but when has he ever been able to walk away from him.

"Well you can't sleep in there. It's freezing! Don't know what's happened to the weather lately." He shook his head, what was he doing, having a nice chat about the weather when Robert was in front of him, apparently homeless. "What happened with Vic?"

"She said it wasn't working. Think she's fed up with me now she's got a newer model in her life. Probably been in her ear about getting rid of me ever since I got back."

"Are you talking about John? He wouldn't. Anyway why would Vic even listen to him, she loves you. You know she does."

"Funny way of showing it. Now are you going to go so I can wallow in my new living quarters?"

"Fat chance." He takes a deep breath, making a decision that he was very likely going to regret in the morning. "Come back to mine."

"What's Johnny boy going to think about that?" Aaron sees the spark of something in his eyes though, he wants to. It would be pathetic on anyone else, the hope in his eyes, but it's just Robert.

"He's away for the night. You coming with me or not? Cos if not I'll be going for my pint."

"Doesn't look like I've got any choice does it, unless you're going to pick this lock for me. You always were better at that stuff than me."

"Just bring your stuff."

Robert's quiet as they're walking back, he leads him back via the play area rather than by the pub, he'd rather his family didn't see him, he'd never hear the end of it. Not that he's doing anything wrong, anyone would do the same if they found someone out in the cold.

When they get back he leaves Robert staring round the flat as he flicks the kettle on, both because he's cold and because it might help sober Robert up.

"How come you live here?"

"I left, after Liv, gave Vinny the house and he sold it to my uncle, the new one, not Cain. When I came back I was... let's say messed up a bit, and told him I was living here whether he liked it or not."

"It's interesting."

"Yeah? Well you should see downstairs then. I thought your taste was bad." He hands him a mug watches with a wince as he cradles it to him. "Rob..."

"Don't, Aaron, please. I wish you hadn't seen me like this."

"I could kill Vic. What was she thinking?"

"Like I said..."

"Yeah yeah. Even if John had told her she didn't have to listen did she? You can't live in the pavilion Robert. For one thing you need an address for your probation."

"You offering?"

He sits opposite him, "Surely you can afford the B&B for a bit, til you find your feet? You had savings before..."

"It's gone." He looks up at him. "The appeal cost money Aaron and i'd already put aside a load for Seb, for Liv. So...unless you can magic up a money tree I'm all out of ideas."

He blinks back tears before Robert can see. He might not want Robert in his life anymore but seeing him like this, with nothing and no one is too much.

"Well...tonight you're stayin' here. The sofa's a bit crap but it's comfy enough, and tomorrow we'll work something out." If John found out there'd be hell to pay but right this second he didn't care.

"I don't want to cause trouble..."

"Well that'd be a first." He's happy that he gets a bit of a laugh out of him. "It's fine. We'll sort something in the morning and no one needs to know do they? I'll get you some blankets and that, you look knackered."

When he's found the bedding and a pillow he goes back to the living room to find Robert already asleep. He covers him gently with the blanket and goes back to the bedroom sinking down onto the bed with a sigh. He should call Vic, but the thing with Vic is, once she's made up her mind she's got all the Sugden stubbornness, and really it's not exactly good for Robert to be somewhere he's not wanted. He has one other idea though, good or bad, it might just work.

"Hey Mack, it's me. Is there still a spare room at yours?"

[blacklegsanjienthusiast]

Have you read Taz Skylar’s Gamesradar interview about Sanji? He rarely talks about him as a character since interviewers would constantly ask him about his general experience on filming the live action and his stunt work on the show most of the time. But when he is given the opportunity to talk or have a deep dive discussion about Sanji, it’s just beautiful. It’s just so beautiful the way Taz articulates his thoughts about Sanji as a character and it’s very clear that he truly understands him.

When the OPLA Season 1 was weeks away from officially being released in 2023, I was still on the fence and unsure of it. I actually liked the casting of the Strawhat crew but I was not sure on the writing and acting aspect for each character, especially the acting for Luffy and Sanji since I was unfamiliar with Inaki and Taz at that time. Then I read an interview where Taz talked and had a deep dive discussion about Sanji and it was such a huge turning point for me. It quickly changed my mind and made me have faith in Taz’s portrayal of Sanji. It’s an interview that made me go “OMG HE GETS IT! HE GETS THIS CHARACTER!” And then I watched the Live Action, and was quickly amazed by Taz’s acting because he had little screen time compared to the other Strawhats but he made the most of it. He had a few scenes but he was able to portray this character with such great depth and layers. I can tell that he was considering Sanji’s origin when he was portraying him. I am actually quite excited for Season 2 and hope that there’s more seasons.

This is the interview that I was talking about btw: https://www.gamesradar.com/taz-skylar-one-piece-netflix-sanji-interview/

i had not read this interview before so thank you for sharing it!!

you’re so right though, every time taz is given the opportunity to talk about sanji as a character all i can think is that he just gets him in every way. one of my favourite things about opla, especially when it comes to sanji, is that it’s the first time we’re seeing the earlier arcs whilst also knowing the rest of the story and, in sanjis case, backstory that didn’t exist at the time the east blue saga was written and it’s so interesting to have a version of the character where we know all of that context is being taken into account when it comes to portraying him. hindsight really is a wonderful thing and it allows taz’s version of sanji to be so incredibly and purposefully layered, rather than the retcons and often accidental callbacks from earlier anime arcs we’re used to. this answer from the article you linked is a perfect example:

i genuinely gasped when i read this earlier because sanji’s relationship with and views of women stemming from how he was treated as child by sora and reiju compared to his male family members is such an extremely important part of his character to me, and basically all of his fans and the fact that taz picked up on that as well and the fact that that is what was in his head whilst filming is huge to me, because while it’s pretty agreed upon by the fandom it’s not something that’s ever explicitly stated in the manga and was certainly not a thing nor the intended reasoning behind sanji’s views on women when oda was first writing the east blue (he was just a simp). the fact that in opla that is very explicitly the reason and what taz intended is, as i said, huge to me because not only is it just such a perfect interpretation of sanji but it also shows just how much time taz put into his portrayal of him.

another small moment when i thought oh he gets him is in the interview below and his answer to the question of what devil fruit would you have if you could have one was none because sanji is the only person in his family who is normal and has no special abilities and that in itself is what makes him special and i just thought yes! exactly! you get it!

on top of the extensive physical training taz did for the role and the fact he learned to cook for it, the time put into simply thinking about sanji as a person and his past and origins, and how it shaped him into the man who we are introduced to in baratie means opla sanji is just so wonderful to watch. the stand out line to me in season 1 is “all i see is back”. the bitterness of it is so good and if you know sanji’s full backstory you can immediately tell that he is not just thinking about the rock when he says that.

this ended up being a longer ramble than i intended but to round it off there’s a lot of opportunity in season 2 for hints to sanji’s past (those being for example the fact that it’s mr 3 he’s mistaken for because isn’t that a crazy coincidence) and i’m so interested to see if taz takes them.

[hollow-lime-green]

Share the first lines of ten of your latest fanfics (or up to if you have fewer) and tag ten people.

ty for the tag @detta-pica! <3

it seems like a good day to do some reminiscing/reflection on the ol' fics. i like first lines. sometimes i have a good idea for one, and it'll really guide the story. sometimes i don't, but by the end of writing the piece i can go back and find something that fits for me.

interestingly, exactly the last 10 (no more, no less) of my posted fics are JJK, and they are all in the FIYM extended universe. so i shall post them in story chronological order:

1. it's not gay unless the domains touch

Geto Suguru was fifteen years old when he first met Gojo Satoru, and he instantly decided he couldn’t stand him.

but that's in flashback. the story really starts with this one (one of my favorites)

Suguru can’t quite figure out if Satoru didn’t get enough hugs as a child, or if he got too many. 

i'll put the rest under a cut so this isn't a longboy on peoples' dashes (do people care about this? i do not know.)

2. too gay to function

So, for the record, none of this was Shoko’s fault. She got dragged into this shit years ago. Not like, ‘kicking and screaming’ dragged - nothing so loud and hysterical. No, she got dragged down slowly but surely - like a poor, low-level gangster with his feet cast into concrete shoes. Drowned by gay bullshit: R.I.P. in peace, Ieiri Shoko.

wow okay so i'm literally already cheating because technically this is the earliest chronological point. but c'mon i had to start with domains.

3. two sorcerers chillin' in a hot tub (five feet apart cause they’re not gay)

Geto Suguru ate his first cursed spirit at the age of five and a half. Curse manipulation was, among other things, not an especially intuitive power. It took a creative, slightly deranged sort of person to look at a warbling mass of cursed viscera and think, ‘Oh, yeah, that looks tasty’. However, as a general rule, five-year-olds are more than willing to put almost anything in their mouths, except green vegetables.

you will see that there is a trend of me starting with a one line 'paragraph' and then a multiline follow up paragraph. i simply like this.

4. the uncertainty principle

Gojo Satoru is sick in the head.

this side piece is an interesting and special one for me. i was talking to a (non-fic) writing friend at the time, particularly about atmosphere, characterization, and introspection. and what i like about that pieces is that, in hitting all of those things - nothing happens. like, actions are not taken, nothing is happening. and yet, it is still a scene that works, and an important piece of the story (very important if you read in sequence, because it is our first look into gojo's pov in the whole story).

popular books but especially BoyFantasy (tm) (i am staring directly at you brandon sanderson) fall into a trap of being so egregiously action driven. once you break out of that, you can build a lot more character depth and tension. (read name of the wind read name of the wind read name-

5. blueshift

To most people, the train out of Shinjuku was a bit louder than usual. To Satoru, it was utterly deafening.

rare case where i feel the summary actually goes harder than the opening line

Gojo Satoru loves in black and white; he suffers in technicolor.

6. string theory

Satoru’s eyes burn. This, in itself, means nothing. Less than nothing, actually, because the combined time that Satoru’s eyes don’t burn is far less, fractionally, than the time that they do. Less than half. Maybe less than a third. Usually, it’s the sun’s fault. You’re not supposed to stare at the sun, obviously, but you’re doubly not supposed to stare at the sun when it burns your retinas in three spectra instead of one. It’s not the sun’s fault this time, though, because he hasn’t been outside in three days - almost four - and the library sconces don’t burn that brightly.

from the start, we can certainly already sense that Something is Wrong With This Man, so that's effective.

7. relativity

‘Just relax, baby,’ Suguru murmurs. Except, he doesn’t. Because Suguru wouldn’t say that - the ‘baby’ thing - and Satoru doesn’t even know if he’d want him to. Because ‘baby’ sounds, like… weird, and girly and stuff. And he’s not a girl, so- Nope, he’s not getting into that tonight.

relativity my beloved

8. gal pals (ongoing)

The train ride to Kyoto goes by in the blink of an eye. Not because it’s pleasant, and not because it’s particularly quick, but because Shoko’s brain isn’t really in good enough shape to fuck with the concept of linear time.

go read about the lesbians, guys. this pride, it's your civic duty to care about the lesbians as much as the gayboys. also when i have the stamina to post about it again... i am telling you folks, i am cooking something here. i am cooking a fucking feast here (admittedly the dessert will be in ch 3 and i need to get through ch 2 without putting an ice pick through my eyeball because i need to write some complex choreo)

but when i get there?

when i get there you will understand why this had to be a side piece, and why i am doing the alternating posting structure with fellas.

despite my recent blah, whenever i think about finally get to post the end of gal pals, i smile. oh. oh. you guys are not prepared, you're simply not prepared.

when i get there.

9. fellas is it gay to be his one and only (ongoing)

AN: Special fangz (get it, coz Im goffik) 2 my gf (ew not in that way) nanami, bloodybread7:3 4 helpin me wif da story and spelling. MCR ROX! Hi my name is Satoru Light’ness Dementia Raven Way and I have short ivory white hair (that’s how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my shoulder and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Anderson Cooper (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). 

i forgot what the opening line for fellas was because i was thinking about the chronological start of the plot for fellas and not the start of the text, not the greatest writing of my fanfiction career. and the stars aligned so i got to post this on 4/1... i think i had this in the drafts, fully edited ready to go, for maybe 6-8 months before it got posted? i peaked here. i really did.

aaaaaand...

10. ??? (upcoming)

Suguru’s never been a fan of early mornings, but, like most things in his life, they’re a habit he’s tripped and fallen into.

ohhh i'm cheating again i'm cheating again someone call the fanfiction tumblr police i'm cheating again. this is from a WIP (the tropefest WIP I have been oversharing on).

technically the 10th work in FIYM is teeth and tongue, which is fun and if you are interested in my uraume then you should go read it. but it's very tangential to the plot and set in the heian era.

this upcoming work has been a nice, lighthearted full comedy break from some of the heavier FIYM writing (not that I can describe the fanfiction scenes as heavy... yet?). i'm having fun with it. :)

======

Tagging: well i feel like in her post olga stole of ton of people who i would think of tagging and 10 is such a big number, so like always I am going to cop out and say ANYONE WHO WANTS TO WHO IS READING THIS POST.

but of people who i remember are writing things I will tag (and I am re-possessing from olga)

@mildlyannoyedscoundrel-blog @andiftheycare @alpha-hydra @fushiglow @lmskitty

and (beta counts for 5 points i don't make the rules)

@benevolentkitchen (oohhhh you thought you were safe just cuz you've never posted ohhhhh you're not post your wip do it you won't ohhhh)

[thebrisingamen]

Total Drama Island

AKA the reboot reminded me of this ridiculous series so I did a stupid thing and made them all Pokemon/Pokemon Trainers. So here's a crossover no one asked for or cares about but I wrote up anyways

THE ORIGINAL TDI/TDA/TDWT CREW:

Beth, The Wannabe

As a Pokemon: Grumpig, due to her growing up on a Farm and being somewhat aware of her surroundings, since Grumpig is a psychic type. It's also a very bizarre pokemon and can be useful, even when people underestimate it, so I thought it would be fitting for Beth.

Her Team: As befitting her backstory, I gave her Grumpig and Miltank, some pokemon that can be powerhouses when used correctly. Dedenne due to her excitable nature and again, being underestimated and kind of easily manipulated. The same for Combee; a go with the flow, follow the leader type. Ditto for her desperate desire to fit in.

Sandshrew is the star of her team, as Sandshrew would be Beth's pokemon that shows her burying her feelings and curling up into a defense, but eventually evolving into Sandslash, a powerful ground type, reflecting Beth's nature as being more down to earth eventually.

Grumpig

Dedenne

Combee

Miltank

Sandshrew -> Sandslash (in TDA)

Ditto

Bridgette, The Surfer Girl

As a Pokemon: Floatzel, feels pretty obvious. Kind and goes out of her way to help people, pretty decent water type but not much of a fighter and has a very chill personality. A bit more responsible than our other surfers, which you'll see down the list.

Her Team: Obviously, I went with a water based team for Bridgette. Mantine and Dewgong being chosen as both of them are pretty chill types of pokemon, and you can surf on Mantine in Alola, to carry you from island to island. Spinda is representative of her incredible clumsiness on land and the constant running gag of Bridgette in physical comedy. Comfey also represents her soothing and calming nature in comparison to her teammates. Pelipper is Bridgette's powerful side coming out and probably her best pokemon.

Honestly I don't have a reason for Vaporean, other than it is an Eeveelution and Bridgette strikes me as the type to pick a popular pokemon and just evolve into a water type.

Mantine

Dewgong

Vaporeon

Spinda

Pelipper

Comfey

Cody, The Geek

As a Pokemon: Magnemite, as its a more modern pokemon, but like Cody, still "young" for a pokemon and according to the pokedex, can cause a lot of damage. Tends to show up and appear randomly when needed. Can be useful but hasn't "grown up" quite yet.

His Team: Cody's team I decided to keep mostly electric and strange pokemon, to reflect his nature. Magneton and Porygon reflect his kind of geekiness and general desire to try to be useful, but ultimately isn't as much. Phanphy and Treecko are more of a reflection of his kind of naive nature that grows overtime. Klefki represents his inability to respect boundaries. Beheeyem is Cody's intellect, but again, a weird pokemon that most people forget about/don't really respect.

Porygon

Magneton

Beheeyem

Treecko

Phanphy

Klefki

Courtney, The Over-Achiever/Type A

As a Pokemon: Espeon. Mainly because Courtney doesn't actually grow as a person until she gets actual friends in the series, and to tie-in with her intelligence and drive. Psychic type because while Courtney is competitive, she is not underhanded enough for me to think on her being a dark type. An Eeveelution due to her popularity as a character.

Her Team: Courtney's Team is reflective of parts of her personality. Tyrogue is often trying to better itself and constantly training. That she would make sure it evolves into the most balanced of the Hitmon's is 100% Courtney. Oranguru's entries commend it's command abilities, but in actual battle, this doesn't seem to come up, reflecting Courtney's need to have authority. Wigglytuff reflects her massive ego that can be easily injured, and the anger that comes with it. Ninetales follows the same footsteps, with the grudge to match it. Salazzle evolving shows Courtney's dedication to winning, using some tricks to distract others, but unlike Alejandro, Mal and Heather, they never go beyond distracting. She'd also pick "pretty" pokemon that are useful for her main team.

Oh and she EV trained the shit out of every pokemon. Courtney came to win.

Tyrogue -> Hitmontop

Oranguru

Salandit -> Salazzle

Wigglytuff

Ninetales

Vivillion

DJ, The Brickhouse with a Heart/The Teddy Bear

As a Pokemon: Audino. DJ is definitely a healer/support type Pokemon, but it had to be Audino, as the Chansey line is ALWAYS female. Audino fufills the same purpose and is SURPRISINGLY strong in battle, making it a force to be reckoned with at times.

His Team: DJ's first three pokemon represent elements of DJ from Island; Buneary for Bunny, the pet Bunny he found. Pachirisu for the squirrels and Stantler for the deer episode. Blissey represents his caring and kind nature that can also manifest into being able to punch you into submission, if he's pushed to do so. Tsareena represents DJs ability to eventually stand up for himself and again, despite being a grass type, doing well despite everything. Cyndaquil is his buddy, and represents DJs connection to everyone he meets; Cyndaquil would also be chill and help him with his cooking.

Buneary

Pachirisu

Stantler

Tsareena

Blissey

Cyndaquil

Duncan, The Delinquent Heartthrob

Jeez, he's had the most titles! Like Duncan has Four different introduction titles, according to the wiki.

As a Pokemon: Houndoom, because of course. An extremely popular character, Duncan would be reflected in an extremely popular pokemon--being Dark type was a necessity. Houndoom has been depicted as 'not all that bad' before, and that it looks scarier than it actually is.

His Team: Also would have a Houndoom on his team, as well as a Nidorino, reflected of his constantly tough persona and needling of others. Haunter and Purrloin allude to Duncan's prankster nature and kind of 'its not like a care' attitude, while also being able to help with the reflection on his criminal record. Krookodile is also an allusion to his 'tough but can be sweet' attitude. Granbull is the same thing, and honestly was the last member of his team, gotten after he met Zoey.

Houndoom

Krookodile

Nidorino

Haunter

Purrloin

Granbull

Eva, The Female Bully

Wow they like...made her cardboard, huh. Ah Well. It's Eva, everyone.

As a Pokemon: Surprising no one, she is the angriest of all Pokemon, a Primeape. It's really hard to find too much to say about Eva. A lot of her team is going to be like this as well.

Her Team: Poliwrath and Primape should be obvious; angry, aggressive pokemon whose wrath cannot be stopped. Hitmonchan and Steelix show her side that constantly works out and tries to improve. Charizard is quick to anger, but quite popular; an allusion to her return to the island that no on expected and her odd friendship with the E-Scope team. Stufful. Stufful is Eva's very rarely seen sweet side, though still incredibly destructive, albeit just by its nature and not because it is trying to be.

Hitmonchan

Poliwrath

Primeape

Stufful

Charizard

Steelix

Ezekiel, The Home-Schooled Guy

Again, a pretty low bar character. I mean its total drama I don't expect much, but c'mon y'all.

As A Pokemon: Sableye. Just. His storyline basically fits him turning into a Sableye, living deep in the caves and being obsessed with treasure.

His Team: Mudkip, one of the most hated pokemon designs of Gen 3, at least when it was coming out; reflects Ezekiel's standing amongst the rest of the cast, especially the girls. Kecleon shows Ezekiel's ability to fade into the background and hide, especially in WT. Drilbur, Dunsparce and Sableye reflect his descent into the darkness, living in the Caves of the island in ROTI. Macargo is the volcano he fell in.

Like does any one pokemon reflect him? No. his personality is about as much there as Eva's.

Mudkip

Kecleon

Sableye

Drilbur

Macargo

Dunsparce

Geoff, The Funniest Guy Around

As A Pokemon: Surfing Pikachu. Geoff is basically super chill, super likable and no one on the island seems to actually hate him at all. Like. It's kind of hard for even Chris or Chef to hate him? Up until the clip show later, Geoff is shown to be a pretty nice guy

His Team: Ludicolo and Togetic reflect Geoff's just likable, partying nature. Lapras shows his care for others and ties him to Bridgette more. Corsola is Geoff's environmental nature, and Kingdra can be where Geoff gets a bit full of himself. Surfing Pikachu is the same; Geoff's ego is his downfall more often than not.

Surfing Pikachu

Ludicolo

Togetic

Lapras

Corsola

Kingdra

Gwen, The Loner/Goth Girl

As a Pokemon: Frosslass; She's kind of cold and off putting, a strange person who prioritizes her alone time and freezes out people she doesn't like.

Her Team: Her team was a bit difficult; I gave her Cofigarius to relate to her fear challenge in TDI. Gothitelle, because obviously they keep calling her Goth Girl and it is able to predict the future and is often a loner. Smeargle to relate to her sketching hobby. Frosslass for the same reason; a lonely pokemon who doesn't seek others out, but can be fun. Liepard, because it is beautiful and moody, and unexpectedly vicious. Dusknoir because it is scary and kind of alien, receiving transmissions to transport the dead, and goes along with her "goth" aesthetic.

Dusknoir

Liepard

Frosslass

Smeargle

Gothitelle

Cofigarius

Harold, The Dweeb

Ah yes, Napoleon Dynamite joke character. Another pretty one-note dude.

As a Pokemon: Nincada, due to his obsession with Ninjas, and the annoyance he causes everyone.

His Team: Ninjask and Ferrothorn to call to Harold's Nunchuk "skills" and ninja obsession. Parasect because it is a strange and odd pokemon, reflecting how Harold is a strange and odd person; the same with Clefable. An inability to relate to others at times. Cradlily, because its useful and kind of creeps people out. Heliolisk, because Harold does a lot of posturing and is quick to claim he's good at something, without having the firepower to back it up.

Ninjask

Parasect

Clefable

Heliolisk

Cradlily

Ferrothorn

Heather, The Queen Bee

HBIC herself, Heather. How these kids didn't figure her out earlier is beyond me.

As a Pokemon: Vespiqueen; lots of minions, kind of aggressive and can kick ass where she needs to, when she has to do things herself.

Her Team: Beedrill and Vespiqueen, because of course she'd have the Queen Bee pokemon. They're also quite aggressive and powerful bug types. Salazzle and Dragalge, her other Poison types that show her manipulative and toxic side. Seviper because it is ruthless, like her and Heracross, as a powerful fighter that she usually has on her side.

Beedrill

Vespiqueen

Seviper

Salazzle

Heracross

Dragalge

Izzy, The Insane or The Psycho Hose Beast

Again, TDI didn't really know what to do with her; Izzy is kind of nuts. there's a lot and then again not a lot to work with here.

As a Pokemon: I settled on Kecleon, since Izzy changed her name and identity several times over the shows, and that is kind of Kecleon's thing to do.

Her Team: Kecleon and Dodrio, to reflect her constantly shifting names and personas she takes on, as well as her escaping the RCMP. Ariados and Ursaring as a call backs to when she was pretending to be a giant spider on ROTI and her rivalry with the Bears on TDI. Haunter for her playful but scary personality and Gourgeist for the same, but also with her kind of crazy tied in.

Kecleon

Ariados

Ursaring

Dodrio

Gourgeist

Haunter

Justin, The Jaw-Dropping/The Eye Candy

Once again, very basic but also a lot to work with here.

As a Pokemon: Very obviously, a Milotic, Shiny as Justin is one of the prettiest players in canon.

His Team: All of his team is based on wealth, popularity and appearance of said pokemon. Mienshao is there because while beautiful, it can be deadly and Alolan Meowth is Dark Type, alluding to Justin's manipulative streak on TDA

Milotic

Alolan Meowth

Glameow

Furfrou

Eevee

Mienshao

Katie & Sadie, The Besties

Listen these two were easy because they are about as developed as Eva and Ezekiel.

As Pokemon: What do you know, it's the worst Pikachu knock-offs, they're Plusle and Minun. Can't function without each other. Their teams reflect this. They Specialize in Double Battles.

Their Team(s): As you can see, most of these pairs are already twinned pokemon or pokemon that evolve from a similar first starter, like Beautifly & Dustox. I had to get creative for the last three sets; Pachirisu and Emolga SHOULD have been an evolution line, but it wasn't and they're similar, so they became part of Katie and Sadie's set. Clefable and Pyukumuku also had a similar problem; I had to pair them with similar pokemon, but not quite the same. It does give these two some differences.

Plusle & Minun

Illumise & Volbeat

Beautifly & Dustox

Clefable & Wigglytuff

Pinchurchin & Pyukumuku

Pachirisu & Emolga

Leshawna, The Lively

Very good, made it easy to create her team.

As a Pokemon: Leshawna is a pretty powerful pokemon, and with all the new ones out, I think she'd be a Tsareena; powerful, tough and graceful.

Her Team: Zangoose, as a rival to Heather with her Seviper. Pangoro, as Leshawna is not afraid to throw down, but only if you make the mistake of making her your enemy. Charizard as Leshawna is incredibly likable, but not always having the same presence as Geoff. Tinkaton, because she's very powerful and will smack everyone down, and looks good doing it. Larvitar because Leshawna never gets the chance to evolve it into it's final form due to the network, but shows her popularity and ability to stand against this crap. Hydrapple, for Leshawna's ability to do teamwork and how well she works with others.

Zangoose

Pangoro

Tinkaton

Charizard

Larvitar

Hydrapple

Lindsay, The Ditz

Her title is mean but true. This girl is dumber than a box of rocks, but she's really very sweet.

As a Pokemon: Ponyta, because she's very clearly a rich girl who loves Horses, based on her bike, and Ponyta is very much a 'head empty, run in field' type which suits Lindsay.

Her Team: Galarian Ponyta, as Lindsay herself is pretty pure as a character, not really wanting to hurt anyone or get into a fight with anyone. Alcremie, the style because it is rare and hard to get, like her nail polish. Honestly, She just found the last four of her team and got them to join James' style; with love and affection. Her team is more fairy type as Lindsay is truly one of the nicer characters...Ever.

Azumarill & Altaria are Lindsay losing her cool and actually being mean, for once.

Galarian Ponyta

Alcremie (Rainbow Swirl w/ Love Sweet)

Azumarill

Altaria

Whimsicott

Flaaffy

Noah, the High IQ/The Schemer

Not very schemey; he often thought himself smarter than he was and was pretty insufferable. But I thought about his team and hope it reflects him.

As a Pokemon: I started Noah out as a Natu; a future-seeing bird, who eventually evolves into a Xatu, as he reappears on Ridonculous Race.

His Team: Natu and Abra represent Noah's self-importance and complete lack of wanting to participate in the team based challenges, which ultimately got him kicked off said team, as well as his over reliance on his intellect. Pidgeotto and Donphan for when Noah actually got to doing things in RR and Wyrdeer as Noah strikes me as the type to somehow evolve Stantler first and act like he meant to do that the entire time.

Natu —> Xatu

Abra —> Alakazam

Bronzong

Wyrdeer

Donphan

Pidgeotto

OWEN, The Big Guy/The Party Guy

Owen was a little tougher, as there is the low-hanging fruit to go for, but also at least something there to work with beyond one note. At least there are two!

As a Pokemon: Munchlax, to go for the low hanging fruit and evolving into Snorlax by the time RR happens, to showcase his growth.

His Team: To slightly subvert expectations, instead of putting a Snorlax or Munchlax on his team, I figured Swalot would work for his insatiable hunger. Being poison type is also fitting, considering Owen's running gag. This is also why he has Skuntank on his team, as well as Vileplume. Quagsire is a call to Owen's very open and friendly demeanor, Musharna to represent his sleepwalking and eating, and Misdreavus to showcase his 'fun' side that can turn sour when he goes too far.

Swalot

Musharna

Misdreavus

Quagsire

Skuntank

Vileplume

TRENT, The Cool Guy/The Deep & Mysterious

TDI did him dirty and once again, there's not much to work with here. But I tried.

As a Pokemon: Gogoat. Trent is supposed to be pretty cool, lots of people like him but...that's where the buck stops. Unlike a lot of other characters, he doesn't get to have a shining moment beyond physical comedy and the canonical ship with Gwen. But, he's cute! and sorta popular!!

His Team: Obviously, he'd have a Gogoat. Espurr is there for Trent's reliving of his horrors. Lapras because he, like Geoff, can be caring and supportive. Shuckle to represent his odd fears and the obsession with the number 9. Flygon as Trent In-Universe is supposed to be a super cool dude. Now.

Zubat. Zubat represents the show and fandom reactions to Trent, as well as tying into his penchant for getting poisoned/stunned/etc. TDA it evolves in to Golbat and finally, in WT, Crobat because Trent FINALLY ended a lot of his personal drama and got...Crobat.

I didn't use any of the musical pokemon for him, as I felt that would be too obvious.

Gogoat

Lapras

Zubat —> Golbat —> Crobat

Shuckle

Flygon

Espurr

Tyler, The Jock

Tyler, oh Tyler. Kind of forgotten about, and once again mostly used for physical comedy.

As a Pokemon: Passimian, which is the sportiest pokemon I could find and thats how Tyler would define himself.

His Team: Passimian and Machamp to represent his passion for sports; Bewear and Linoone, both useful pokemon that are described as kind of klutzy, especially Linoone (can't break and can crash...often). Wooloo, for the same reason. Tyler is not kept down by his injuries. Armarouge, for Tyler's dedication to constantly trying, and often being a good sport.

Bewear

Passimian

Machamp

Linoone

Wooloo

Armarouge

Alejandro, The Arch Villain

And boy does he deliver this well!

As a Pokemon: Oricorio, Baile style most of the time, but he can switch between all four, depending on who he is needing to charm/talk to or what moves he needs in the moment. As one of the few pokemon capable of this, I felt this suited him; he never fully transformed into a different person, which is why I didn't go with Ditto.

Also, WT definitely leaned into his Spanish/Latin origins, which this pokemon also does.

His Team: Alejandro is a threat and that's why he has our most powerful starter, Blaziken. Also representative of the fiery volcano he faced in the finale. Sneaseler and Meowstic (F) are the pretty pokemon that are quite powerful and ruthless on their own. The same can be said of Galarian Linoone, but that is representative of Alejandro losing his facade. Zorua and Meowscarada are similar reasons; Meowscarada because it's whole thing is luring other pokemon into a false sense of security before ambushing them with it's moves, and Zorua due to the illusion ability it has and it's cute and disarming appearance (hence why not Zoroark).

Meowscarada

Zorua

Galarian Linoone

Meowstic (Female)

Blaziken

Sneaseler

Sierra, The Obsessive Uberfan

Oh Sierra, she's a funny character.

As a Pokemon: Mimikyu; constantly obsessed with and wanting to have everything ever of the TDI team, to the point of being creepy about it all, and surviving attempts to pry into her own backstory.

Her Team: Mimikyu, for her obsessive tendencies. Nickit, to steal "Keepsakes" from the people she's a fan of, Cosplay Pikachu to showcase her obsession/fangirl tendencies again. Morpeko represents her quick switches from 'Nice' to 'MEAN' rapidly when it involves Cody. Dragapult as its entries paint it and its line as kind of crazy and obsessed with their interests, which is definitely Sierra. Flareon is more because Sierra's aggression is not obvious, but can be deadly when unleashed, and its cooling off ability only works for so long.

Mimikyu

Dragapult

Morpeko

Flareon

Shiny Nickit

Cosplay Pikachu

[goosensuch]

ur all crazy for believing that Buck denying his feelings for Eddie means he doesn’t have feelings for Eddie.

I know this sounds counter intuitive. but I think if they were telling the audience that Buck loves Eddie as a friend, he would be reacting very differently to Eddie leaving.

in the context of the episode, buck spends the whole time talking about eddie and processing that eddie is gone. We saw the reactions eddies friends and collegues had to his departure, they are happy for him. buck cannot be.

Furthermore, so far in the season, his entire arc is losing Eddie. If the show was working towards buck and tommy getting back together, his feelings for tommy would have been raised at least once. instead, for the whole three episodes, buck is freaking out over Eddie leaving.

My point being, narratively speaking, buck’s arc is about Eddie, not about Tommy.

Now yes, buck and Tommy did hook up. But they hooked up in Eddie’s house, and 1/2 conversations we saw them have was about Eddie. Eddie looms like a fridged wife over their hook up and the narrative. and now we get to the denial.

The show is textually introducing the concept of Buck being in love with Eddie. This needs to be done because while a lot of fans are seeing the chemistry between the characters, there’s an epistemic gap that needs to be bridged to where the show itself can make their relationship into Plot.

We are starting thus, with their dynamic as codependent best friends. It would be boring to have Buck wake up one morning and simply come to the conclusion that he is in love with Eddie. This realisation has to come from a level of conflict in the story. Buck has to change in some way, grow or evolve in order to reach this conclusion. So, this episode was the set up to begin that growth. The idea of him being in love with Eddie is introduced, and he vehemently denies it.

BUT the denial is rather weak.

“You live in his house” - “it’s not his house, he’s a renter”

“You have feelings for him” - “he’s straight, plus I don’t have to sleep with everyone I have feelings for.”

In the scene with Tommy, he doesn’t even say that he’s not in love with Eddie, he is flustered, gives excuses, then lashes out because the conversation is uncomfortable.

In the grander scheme, the textual confirmation that Tommy broke up with Buck because he saw Eddie as competition adds more credence to Buck and Eddie being the end game couple here, not Buck and Tommy. We don’t see any of Tommy’s interior world, his thoughts or feelings. If this was about Tommy’s insecurities, it would be established that way. When it is raised in this latest episode, Buck would have gone “no girl, I don’t like him I liked you, why did u break up with me over that?” And we would get a scene of them deepening their bond and discussing their insecurities.

Instead, Buck lashes out in discomfort, pushes Tommy away again, and then goes to Maddie. His main take away from his conversation with Tommy is him being in love with Eddie. If it was about Tommy, the conversation would focus on how Buck hurt Tommy, how he feels guilty and needs to make amends. While this does come up, the focus of the conversation is the Eddie thing. Again, Buck denies his feelings, using Eddie’s heterosexuality as a shield. Maddies reaction here is more interesting to me. Her calling into question Buck’s feelings towards Eddie, as someone close to Buck, is confirmation to me that buck is not a reliable narrator of his own emotions at the moment. She has seen his journey to discovering his sexuality, and understands that he is sometimes clueless to the obvious things in front of him. Her calmly calling into question how he feels is the first time he is given space to consider this reality.

Once again, if it was about Tommy, the Eddie thing would be discussed as something Tommy said, why he might think that. But the main focus is on whether Buck is in love with Eddie or not.

On a separate note, Buck is baking again. He’s not baking over his break up with Tommy, he’s baking over his loss of Eddie. This parallel, showing bucks feelings for Tommy as equivalent to his feelings for Eddie, by showing him coping with their loss in the same way, is honest to god textual evidence that buddie is going canon. Yes it’s a small detail but I think an important one.

Buck isn’t even aware that he’s doing it, he’s absentmindedly baking from the moment Eddie leaving becomes real. Much like he’s unaware of how he feels about Eddie. He’s coping the same way out of instinct.

While his words speak to one reality, his actions speak to another. There is a very clear line being drawn between how Buck is reacting to Eddie leaving, and how everyone else is feeling. Textually introducing Buck being in love with Eddie with a denial of this does not necessitate Buck not being in love with Eddie. It speaks to an arc beginning. If the arc was Buck and Tommy being getting back together, Buck would be focused on their hook up and conversation, not on whether he’s hypothetically in love with his straight best friend.

[mipexch]

there's something so beautiful about rain world's art style that i can't properly put into words

[snickerdoodlles]

some thoughts on writing humor for anyone interested;

if you want to incorporate more humor into your writing, what you really want to practice is timing. writing humor is rarely about writing an individual funny line-- you don't remember the punchline because of the line itself, you remember the punchline because of everything else that came before it. a punchline without a proper build up or proper timing is just a non-sequitur.

so, when writing a humor fic, a good thing to remember is that the punchline comes last. you can't have your funniest line at the start of your story. think of it like action-- if your first fight is the boss fight, any fight of lower stakes or difficulty that follows is going to feel lackluster in comparison. you want your story and your jokes to build to the final line, or else you'll step on the joke and lose its impact.

and this does take practice! putting the joke at the end doesn't always feel 'natural' at first, learning how to structure and build a humor story is a skill the same as learning how to do it for any other genre. personally, i'd also say humor is something that really comes out in the editing stage more than the initial drafts-- humor is very reliant on timing and rhythm, and it's hard to find and stick to a story's pacing when you're still working on the overall story structure. i mean, this sort of thing tends to go for any sort of writing, but nothing makes humor fall flat faster than wonky pacing and so (for me at least) editing is the stage where the story goes from "oh, haha" to actually funny.

(i also bring this up because fandom has a lot of jokes about not editing a finished draft before posting-- and like, totally feel you, i'm not huge on editing after i reach the end of the draft. however, i have noticed in fic circles where people will get caught up on and sometimes even discouraged by trying to be funny in the fic larva stages when the framework to be funny just isn't there yet. personally, i highlight the humor lines i'm unsure about and move on. then, when the fic's closer to 90% done or so, it's much easier to skim the overall story and cut/format/refine/etc any jokes because they're already highlighted for easy finding.)

another thing to keep in mind is that humor as a writing device is often used to release tension. i would say this is a large part of why humor often falls very naturally into scene transitions; that natural release of tension is very useful as an 'end bracket' to a scene while also setting up the audience to be freshly wound up again. this feature is useful for stories aiming for a more light-hearted tone overall, but in general stories often incorporate humor as a way of controlling a story's pacing so that the tension doesn't get too tight too fast. even if a punchline isn't your end goal, you're still building up to something and it's really helpful to edit your humorous lines by asking "does this fit with my scene/story's pacing, or is it disruptive to my buildup?"

it doesn't really matter how funny an individual line might be on its own-- if its disruptive to the story's overall flow, the joke's effect is going to come off as strained and forced. because humor is really an exercise in structure and story rhythm, the most ineffective way to study humor is to fixate on the individual jokes you remember in your favorite stories-- instead look for the threads that came before the joke that made it memorable, and then practice doing that in your own writing. usually when humor falls flat in a story, it's because either the specific joke pops out of nowhere (missing the build-up) or the joke is in the wrong spot in the story (disruptive, breaks reader immersion). sometimes the fix is as easy as reshuffling a few lines, other times it's a matter of adding more to the build up, or even cutting it altogether so that something else packs a bigger punch.

tl;dr-- i'm repeating the old adage "in comedy, timing is everything." if you want to get better at writing or incorporating humor into your stories, it's honestly more important to practice when to drop a joke than the specific wording of the joke itself.

[orcelito]

Actually it is SO weird to me to remember that I was an engineering student and that later on I had been pursuing a minor in statistics

I may be a IT & com person in the end, but I do have the foundations of engineering and statistics in my brain too. Wild !

[c6jpg]

FUCK YEAHHHHHH ❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗

[desertdragon]

T/////Eight story amounted to basically nothing so I guess I'm back here to the other stupid as shit game I give too many chances on a more full time basis again (minus still writing my As///u/////Lil////i fic I love that thing too much and people in my DMs are counting on me for more)

At least I'll always have my friend and her best ending

And her faggot

EDIT: Ok it was nonsensical and full of holes like swiss cheese but now that i've calmed down this was always a goofy silly dumb game that cares less about taking itself seriously as it does being cool and fun, so while im disappointed and im allowed to be disappointed, im not running away with my expectations on this like others have. Tekken is still fun and will always have a place in my heart. And I do appreciate receiving some things I've always wanted regardless of my upsets with their execution flaws. They were finally able to make me feel like my favorite characters have closure on some level regardless, and that has to be commended.

[heegyukeluv]

cross the line (lhs)

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader

synopsis: “How do you know if someone is flirting with you?”  It was Heeseung’s question to you, and you were left with no option other than to show how you do it.

my's note: this is from an old prompt i had. nothing much, just some fluff and highkey desperate (and long) smut... and bestfriends to lovers 🤭i feel like i lost the plot while i was writing it, but yeah! hope y'all enjoy it

warnings: childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, kinda miscomunication?, reader blushing/turning red!, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!!), desperate hee (in many ways lol), hee is sensitive and edges himself, very slooooow and unnecessarily detailed smut, reader is not a virgin but it's her second time!! / lmk if i missed something!

wc: 14,5k

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers, @ikeuverse, @tinycatharsis

“How do you know if someone is flirting with you?”

The question lingered in the air longer than Heeseung expected, but he wouldn’t blame you at all.

It was a quiet, calm Saturday afternoon. None of you had work to do or studies to draw your energy. While your back lazily rested on your couch’s armrest with your legs propped up in a triangle, Heeseung was laid on the ground after blaming the couch’s fabric for being too heated for his skin, his head opposite to yours. 

Far enough to miss your instant confused expression. 

“Huh?” You murmured with a frown, trying to figure out if you heard it correctly before diverting your attention from your phone to catch a glimpse of Heeseung’s plain eyes looking up at the ceiling. 

He had shifted his position to a relaxed one with a hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach, the quiet motion of up and down following his gentle breathing. It could easily soothe your nerves to watch him serenely exist like that in the world, an opposite to his normally chaotic and teasing demeanor. 

“How do you know if someone is flirting with you?” Heeseung repeated his question once again, and you were sure now you had heard it right. It didn’t make you less puzzled though. “Like, I think I struggle to recognize what’s just a normal interaction and what’s a flirt.”

Your eyebrows were sky high as you skeptically eyed Heeseung, not believing a single word coming out of his mouth as your body stiffed a little. 

Growing up together as friends was just a quarter of your story with Heeseung.

Your moms were the typical best friends that surprisingly gave birth around the same time, resulting in you and Heeseung becoming as close as siblings due to your families proximity, although the thought of being Heeseung’s sister haunted the depths of your mind terribly nowadays.

Of course you wouldn’t mind being considered in that position when you were younger; Heeseung annoying ass bothering you all the time with the subtle hair pulls under the excuse of trying to grab your attention, or poking your sides to start a little fight that he always won, or the times he simply feigned to go for a whisper as in telling you a secret just to blow air in your ear and elicit a scream from you, were a huge behaviors proof he had somewhat sibling energy.

Your constant smacks on his shoulders and chest, along with your not-so-gentle bites on his arms, and your giggles whenever you pranked him by tossing flour at his direction when cooking together worked well to establish a strong base to that idea.

However, as you both started to grow up, things changed accordingly to your ages.

You were expectedly very comfortable around each other, and the touches once aiming to bother, switched to casual, caring ones, still having a faint of that light-hearted taunt.

Heeseung would often be seen removing an eyelash from your cheek, his fingertips brushing against your skin softly as you kept talking normally.

Or intertwining your hands when going back from school, so you wouldn’t fall whenever you tripped – and you did quite regularly.

Or, when you sat together, Heeseung would make sure to have your thighs resting on his lap so he could settle his warm hands on top of it, casually caressing your skin while watching whatever you choose to. 

It was great and heartwarming to have him like that, taking care of you even with the slightest teasing alongside genuine intentions – Heeseung struggled to demonstrate his feelings openly, so giving you princess-like treatment with a hint of his usual playful banter was his way to show how much he loved you.

Eventually, puberty hit him, and hit undoubtedly hard. 

The little kid who used to follow you around just to annoy had become the taller, handsome, and effortlessly cool teenager, surrounded by friends and making girls squeal over even the slightest interaction with him, leaving you to wonder when everything had changed that much.

You didn’t expect Heeseung to keep being friends with you the way he was before as time passed, but surprisingly he would often be choosing you over the others, such as hanging out during lunch time with you, doing his schoolworks only with you, spending a part of his pocket money with sweets for you and taking you home everyday – you lived near to each other, nonetheless he would always guide you to your door’s porch before kissing your forehead and saying his farewell. 

At some point you realized your body was reacting similarly to how girls who had a crush on Heeseung would describe when he was around; an urge to scream and giggle just because he smiled, heart pounding hard in your chest after watching him slicking back his sweaty hair while playing basketball with the boys, hands trembling with the thought of being alone for too long with him in your room.

You were starting to act awkward, your hormones messing with your head enough to leave you scared as shit, questioning what you and Heeseung were, because the definition of friendship wasn’t making any sense, seemed lacking, insufficient for what you truly, wholeheartedly wanted from Heeseung.

So your most sane decision at the time was to push him towards other girls randomly, sharing how much in love a friend of yours was with him and how worthy, pretty and intelligent she was. Or how the cheerleader’s leader would fit him perfectly and they would become the school’s model couple.

The sting in your heart was tough to deal with when he started to pick up some of your ideas and openly flirt with the said girls, sharing each step with you how friends constantly did, but you would one hundred percent rather to handle the pain of never having Heeseung as your boyfriend than the hurtful thought of losing him for good.

Then Heeseung started dating, and the girl was extremely jealous of your friendship. 

Though you swore she had nothing to worry about, Heeseung, once again, chose you, dumping the girl just a few weeks after because she said bad things about you, added to the fact that she had a list of reasons why he should end the friendship, something Heeseung would never, ever think about doing.

Despite your mind playing tricks after hearing that people could misinterpret the way Heeseung behaved with you – apparently he would be playing with your hair and giving you headpats quite too oftenly, barely keeping his hands away from you –, you tried to maintain things safely where they should be, focusing on getting over your foolish crush on Heeseung and moving on.

Eventually, little by little the so cherished friendship started to teeter the edge that crossed the line of just friends, and the casual moments started to hold a special place inside your chest.

Heeseung made no effort to help you as well, offering big and gorgeous smiles whenever he saw you as if you were everything he wanted. Laughing graciously when you hugged him so you could hear and feel his chest vibrating with it. Doing his silly little dances to cheer you up in the middle of your living room and, mostly, singing songs with his angelical voice for you to sleep during late phone calls. 

You were so terrified of reading beyond reality.

Was it really that deep?, you would question yourself when your head rested on your pillow at night, the phantom of Heeseung’s presence permeating your room after a game day together, the shared chuckles and teasing prolonging your fast heartbeats as a sweet reminder of your feelings, feelings that you never really managed to bury somewhere else other than on the tip of your tongue, craving for the release you never gave.

The friendship continued the same through the years, or, at least, you both tried to. The emotional bond that tied you two together worked almost perfectly, if you got to keep your voice silenced, if you got to keep the real feelings inside your chest, away from the possible reality.

Heeseung would be eager to share his adventures with you, from the everyday moments, like when he made a shot with his back turned to the hoop and scored, to the more secretive and sexual escapades, the ones you would rather not hear about but had to in order to support your friend spot.

It felt like a punch to the gut when Heeseung talked about his first kiss and the others that followed, each revelation stirring a mix of emotions you couldn't quite shake off, not when you wanted him to be your first kiss as well.

When you both entered college last year, once more things shifted a little.

Heeseung and you began to frequent very different places. While you gravitate towards the quiet spots, such as the library, the coffee shop, or the shade of a tree on campus to read a book in your silent, mellow atmosphere, Heeseung was willing to attend every single party he got to know about, having girls constantly kissing him in front of everyone, caring little to nothing about the talks or if the night would end up in his room.

But he never really committed to anyone.

You wondered what was the reason that held him back, considering the amount of good opportunities he had; the offers were abundant, and the line of admires long to make a curve down the square. Surely he would find the love of his life among that many options, and you had convinced yourself you were far faded from the running.

So, the question felt out of place.

“Are you really gonna try to make me believe that you don’t know when a girl is flirting with you?” You propped yourself on the couch to full face Heeseung, arching an eyebrow. “You? Of all people?”

Heeseung rolled his eyes with a sigh and a smirk, pushing himself up to sit with crossed his legs, fully aware of what you were referring to. “Don’t even start with this shit.”

You chuckled dryly, struggling to contain the bitter taste dissolving in the depths of your throat, the knot was extremely hard to swallow, to know he had fucked who knows how many girls through his life and you, on the other hand, barely had a boyfriend.

It might sound like envy, but you were just frustrated for not being any of those girls.

“What shit? The ‘last weekend I slept with three girls’ shit?” You faked a deep voice to mimic Heeseung, together with his usual cocky smile before deadpanning into a feigned teasing expression.

The episode happened a few days ago, right when you accidentally eavesdropped on him and his friends chatting while playing video games in your shared living room.

It was the typical boys’ talk that you had no intention of listening to, but unfortunately you had just reached the door’s knot to open it, then each word that came out of Heeseung’s mouth traveled straight into your ears, making your stomach drop in an unexpected pain. 

You rushed to your room, cheeks heating and tears stinging your eyes, on the verge of breaking down after hearing what he had said.

Of course you knew Heeseung was sexually active. His room was right next to yours, and though he tried to keep it quiet, the girl he once led in after mistakenly thinking you weren’t home hadn’t bothered to be discreet.

You were fully aware of his private life, the quarter that had you screaming, crying, nearly pulling out your hair and breaking some of your belongings in jealousy because it wasn’t you. 

“Y/N,” Heeseung called out seriously, accidentally bringing you back from your spiral thoughts. “You, more than anyone, know I was joking,” he averted his eyes from you, the prominent area of his cheeks heating as he added. “I literally lost my virginity not even six months ago.”

Now it was your time to roll your eyes, because yes, Heeseung did in fact lose his virginity on that said date, but he never stopped having sex ever since and it annoyed you so fucking much. While you struggled to even kiss a boy, Heeseung was out there living the best of life. Without you.

For years, you thought you hated his behavior because you couldn’t be like him, nonchalant about your crushes as if they were nothing much. You had to literally force your body not to shake when kissing someone, had to hide your sweaty palms and how all your instincts yelled for you to run away when sharing intimacy with someone.

But the actual reality was simpler. You weren’t envious of him. You didn’t want to be like Heeseung.

You wanted Heeseung.

“Whatever you say,” you muttered with a dry chuckle and dropped back on the couch, grabbing your phone to keep scrolling on tiktok, ignoring how hot your face felt after.

Heeseung grunted, his eyes darting towards your face as you absentmindedly watched videos. The boy was oblivious to the real whirlwind happening inside your chest, especially because on his side of the story, he was fighting so fucking hard to contain himself.

Every. Single. Second. 

You were the prettiest girl he ever had the chance to lay his eyes on, with the bestest personality that complemented his own just right, with the most melodic voice and laughter that made his whole world slow down in order to make his breathing ability harder. And he really wished it actually slowed down, to allow him to enjoy and appreciate every passing moment with you even deeper.

Fuck, Heeseung was unable to tell when the butterflies in his stomach started to dance along the beat of your constant presence, but the day you asked if your lipgloss was cute definitely played a big role on it.

Heeseung had a vivid memory of how gorgeous you looked wearing your brand new dress for your fifteenth birthday party, styling your strands with a hair bow and prepping your face with makeup that only accentuated your already beautiful features.

And then you turned on your heels, cheeks painted with a faint blush, big, wide, innocent eyes colored with a soft shade of brown, and your lips, oh, your fucking plump lips with a  shade of a light pink gloss adorning it, screaming for his own mouth to be pressed there.

‘Do I look cute? Does my gloss look cute?’

The question was simple and very common. Heeseung always answered yes to them, because he would always think you were pretty, even when waking up with your puffy face and half-lidded open eyes squinting because of daylight.

But there you were, making Heeseung focus intentionally more on your, now, kissable lips, on your sweet, tempting, fucking gorgeous lips.

Ever since that day Heeseung had to keep you closer to drift his nasty thoughts away.

It was controversial and maybe hypocritical. He should have done the opposite, to avoid you, to keep you as far as possible, but he simply couldn’t, because in that very moment he found himself addicted to you, addicted to the idea of tasting what he had come to crave as his main life goal. 

Having you near meant not dealing with the thought of other guys that had experienced what he longed the most, because with you, everything that filled Heeseung’s mind was the present; your presence, your cheeky smiles, your clingy hugs, your scent, you, as a whole.

It was so fucking tough and hurtful to hear about your little crushes, it fumed his chest with angry flames that spread rapidly, with no sign to have a firefighter strong enough to put the fire out.

You weren’t like him, or at least the part you allowed him to have access didn’t compare to even one percent of what he lived, but Heeseung strongly envied those who had the chance to be the reason behind your shy giggles and blushed cheeks.

Along the chat about flattering boys that stole your heart, you would also ask him why he didn’t date anyone, your curious gaze making him stutter in place. To internally scream and squirm to prevent the words from escaping his mouth – words that would form the sentence that, without a doubt, would change the trajectory of your relationship – was the only suitable option.

It’s your fault, idiot. It’s because none of them are you.

Heeseung always opted to laugh away and give an open answer; ”didn’t find the right one” was his favorite.

In fact, watching you grow up was harder than dealing with some of the questions you threw at him. One moment, you were just the little girl he loved to tease, someone he considered his best friend, and even like the little sister he never had

Heeseung would watch you laugh at his jokes, chase you around scaring you, and protect you from the world when necessary. But then, out of nowhere, you started to change.

You were suddenly a full-grown woman, carrying yourself in a way that left him speechless, not knowing how to react, with boobs and shit.

Ok, that was not exactly what made his life around you harder, nonetheless, it was inevitable the way you physically evolved began to hold a distinct place in Heeseung's mind, blurring his cohesive thoughts with a frightening ease.

Being a teenager while having a hot friend was difficult, no one ever taught him about it.

He felt nasty every time he dared to touch himself while thinking about your body; how your mildly exposed chest, when wearing tight shirts, hinted at what was beneath it. How the soft curves of your belly and hips drew his attention in a way that got his fingertips tingling in craving to hug it, to have it under his touch.

Whenever he achieved his climax, your cute name falling from his lips in a quiet whisper, the following regret flooded his chest within a wave of remorse that he couldn’t control at all. For good minutes he even considered saying sorry to you within a text, without giving a proper explanation, but he would always choose to keep that hidden truth away from your acknowledgment in every instance possible.

Besides his strong, flaming desire, Heeseung loved you with all he had.

You were his best friend, the one and only, the girl who knew his deepest secrets and welcomed them without judgment, that laughed at his stupid jokes and held him closer when he needed comfort.

You knew that when he was a child, he would wet the bed because he had nightmares about clowns. You knew he would eat ramen in the middle of the night, hiding it from his parents and blaming his older brother. You knew that, despite him bragging about his skills, he was terrible at candy crush – and you loved to tease him about it, because who the hell is bad at candy crush?

You didn’t seem to care about his flaws, like the aggressive way he treated things around him when the accumulated stress snapped – never at you, though. Or the fact that he would procrastinate as much as possible to clean his room, to do laundry or wash the dishes. Or that he would always eat while watching TV at maximum volume, and scream loudly while playing league of legends even when late at night.

Heeseung loved you, yet, it wasn’t enough to keep him safely quiet, relentlessly making his body ache for you. What started as the warmth of a deep connection slowly blossomed into something more – more intense, more real, and yet, somehow, delicate, like a fragile flower that could easily be shattered.

Heeseung would treat you like a queen because he thought you deserved to be one, and in the valleys of his heart, he wished for you to let his presence be part of your happiness, to share all the intimate moments, to become a part of your world in a way that was more than just a friend.

So that was the reason Heeseung started this whole thing of asking you about flirting. He was patient, however the urge to be yours and have you completely was swelling not-so-slowly, and he found an unexpected way to maybe drift you both through that invisible boundary line he wished to cross for so long.

There was no actual curiosity behind his question, it was pure and genuine longing and quiet hope for you to, perhaps, reciprocate those confused feelings that only led his heart to decide that he loved you.

And he loved you with his whole soul. 

“Come on,” Heeseung groaned after zoning out, now pushing his body to stand up before taking the seat next to you by scooching your legs away. 

You looked at him over your phone, frowning, your heart still pounding hard in your chest after going thoughtfully over the topic he just brought, pretending to spend your time on the screen when, actually, your head was filled with anxious and fearful thoughts.

Even so, you kept a straight face. 

“What?”

Heeseung sighed, shoulders dropping in something close to defeat and you took your time to move and sit on one of your legs, the other on the ground, casually hanging as you bounced it in order to expel your nervousness.

You didn’t notice your friend had tracked the motion for a quiet second, immediately understanding you had shifted your demeanor in a way he couldn't pinpoint yet, but he had a hunch about it. A suspicion that got his heartbeats notably increasing.

But you saw the exact moment he switched as he gathered the best of his decency to lock eyes with you, guiding the plan forward with excellency.

“Could you, please, for everything we have been through, for our beautiful friendship, and because you love me so, so much, answer my question?”

The drama in Heeseung’s voice was blatant and got you fighting back a grin that threatened to break free. His big-doe eyes flashing you an innocence you wittily figured out as coaxing, added to how he slowly batted his eyelashes, tilting his head only enough to look extra adorable, even curving his bottom lip to pull into a slight pout that had your attention lingering longer than you wanted. 

Once Heeseung learned that his charming eyes were one of your greatest weaknesses, he wasted no time to take advantage of it, oftenly catching you off guard by using his secret weapon to achieve certain goals, offering a soft, yet penetrating gaze that got your knees faltering in place.

He didn’t know with precision what made you so easy to pursue whenever he used that trick, nonetheless it was a big benefit either for simpler favors or big other things, like using your credit card to buy a collector figurine he didn’t have the money to buy during that time.

In that moment, however, Heeseung just wished for you not to catch the flicker of apprehension in his eyes, or the barely contained excitement that danced behind the facade of calmness and fake purity, because he didn’t aim to get something expensive or use your bathroom just to explore your good amount of skincare. 

His only objective was to cross that friendship line, to ruin it, and, if he was lucky enough, have you enjoying it as you both do so.

You pursed your eyelids and then cocked your head to the side, incredulous. “Seriously?” A chuckle echoed from your parted lips, softening your expression to endearing amusement since it pretty much worked all the time, even after you became fully aware of his tactic. “Using bambi-eyes and shit?”

Heeseung nodded with admirable speed, his entire behavior was almost infantile, resembling a shameless child about to get a pricey toy after playing the good kid for his parents, although he definitely did no good. He had a smirk on the very corner of his mouth, and his eyes glossed with complete feigned innocence. 

You damned yourself for being such a sucker for that boy, for allowing him to have that much power over your whole existence. 

And with that, you accepted your fate, your defiance. You had no idea of what was going to happen, let alone what the hell Heeseung wanted to know exactly. Yeah, girls flirting, but in which way? And why?

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, placing your phone away on the side table. Heeseung smiled brightly and shifted on his seat, his whole body now facing you, expectantly. You flashed a hesitant look, cheeks already flaming hot in a strange anticipation, not even bothering to chase for his gaze properly. “What do you wanna know?”

“Ok!” Heeseung nearly buzzed, his body jolting slightly as if electricity ran through it, revealing his excitement. “I’ll repeat the question so it won’t get weird, alright?” 

You allowed your throat to let out a small hum, nodding and eventually daring to glance up for a little, meeting the view of Heeseung's eyes beaming with something close to thrilling and mischief.

A cold, yet silent shiver ran through your torso and you had to control yourself not to tremble when he glazed his gaze with yours, in a magnetic manner that left you with nothing but the necessity to oblige.

Though you had heard them quite a lot from the past few minutes, the following words didn’t ease your heart to weigh less; the amount of times wasn’t enough to get used to how they sounded to you.

“How do I know a girl is flirting with me?”

The air felt extremely thick, rarefied even, as if you were up on the clouds, out from any equipment of protection as you body travelled near to get out from the atmosphere, heavy in your lungs. 

Heeseung struggled to read your reaction at first. Silence. Pure lack of sounds, only a blank and slightly confused expression facing him.

It wasn’t like he was fully expecting you to partake in his idea, even though he planned to account for every possible outcome variant to achieve at least a fraction of his goal.

And yet, he didn’t have a clear objective. Perhaps he simply wanted to plant a seed of hope, mixed with a ‘what if?’, hoping you would realize his feelings ran far deeper than just friendship. And, if luck was on his side, that you might reciprocate – or at least begin to entertain the possibility.

He wanted to ruin that friendship, because he believed you could – no, should – be lovers instead.

You gulped down the lump forming in your neck, praying for some god to help you to release your nerves as soon as possible, otherwise the possibility of having a heart attack wouldn’t just be a fantasy; it would be a reality.

Although every cell in your body seemed to resonate with joy to step onto that untraveled road of your friendship, you couldn’t help the urge to run, to escape, to get away from that topic and move on with your life. 

For sure you both had conversations about similar concepts, but nothing close to personal-sexual subjects. Nothing similar to Heeseung asking you directly how flirting happens. 

“I think…” You sighed, fidgeting with the rings in your fingers. “It depends on the person…”

That reply was more open than Heeseung wanted, however, he didn’t press. 

Your tone was thoughtful, your gaze drifting to a random spot on the wall behind Heeseung and then you frowned, trying to recall how your other girl friends behaved whenever their crushes were nearby to give him a proper answer.

Heeseung studied your beautiful features intently, momentarily losing sight of his original purpose; his focus hovered longer on your lips, the same ones that taunted his self-control every single day, the same ones he dreamed about having attached to his own, the same ones he nearly said ‘fuck it’ and kissed.

Instead, keeping the natural and respectful approach and also using your words, he rephrased his question, bold and curious to explore furthermore.

“How do you flirt, then?”

You blinked your blurred, distant eyes back to Heeseung, widening them once you noticed not a single hint of hesitation within his speech, not even a drop of wavering as he held eye contact. Your furrowed eyebrows showed deep uncertainty, and Heeseung added, struggling a bit to sound firm, gesticulating with his nervous hands.

“Like, could you demonstrate?”

It hadn’t clarified anything. In fact, it only made everything more doubtable and chaotic, eliciting a tilt of your head and an even deeper frown.

What on earth was he talking about? Out of nowhere? With no precise context whatsoever? You hadn’t bought into his questioning from the start, especially because of how charming that guy in front of you could easily be, no shame at all. And now this – completely sudden and utterly unsubtle.

Heeseung hadn’t laid the groundwork before dropping this delicate bombshell in your lap.

“How do I flirt?” You retorted, emphasizing and pointing to yourself, dumbfounded.

“Yeah, like,” he shrugged, as if it was just a normal question to make to your best friend. “How do you normally flirt with your crushes?” 

You shook your head, your hands freezing in the air, your spinning head barely catching the mocking tone when Heeseung said crushes.  “No, like, I got that part,” you clutched your fists, narrowing your eyes, lips suddenly drying. “But…”

The tension clung in the silence and you could feel your heart ringing in your ears, almost ripping out from your rib cage. Your hands slowly dropped to your lap, resting there as you tried to find a recompose path out of that situation.

“But…?” Heeseung prodded, leaning ever so slightly closer, his curiosity palpable as much as his boldness.

“Do you want me to flirt with you?” You blurted out, struggling to understand the whole picture, a blend of dread and excitement swirling in your stomach that you failed to contain.

Heeseung’s breath rigged, apprehension heavy in his voice, afterall, that simple interaction had the strength, the weight of changing things between you two for good – and he was painfully aware of it. 

“It’s not like, flirt flirt,” he attempted to clarify himself, though it was clear he was growing increasingly nervous with each passing second. “I just wanna see how girls do it. And you’re a girl, as far as I know.” 

Heeseung was trying to sound nonchalant, to ease the tense air with his remarkable teasing smirk, as casual as ever, but the atmosphere had noticeably shifted and you weren’t sure about your thought process during that moment. 

You grabbed one of the couch’s pillows behind you and threw over him, both of you sharing a laugh that seemed a bit too forced to be real.

A rush of heat crept up your neck as you silently fumbled for the right words when the playful banter settled, leaving room for the reality of Heeseung requesting you to purposely flirt with him.

You also grasped with caution the way Heeseung’s gaze lingered on your figure, how it followed the movement of your teeth pressing on your bottom lip, how he mirrored your decision to wet the area with the tip of your tongue as well, drawing your attention towards his own attractive lips, planting, in your mind, a dangerous seed that had you considering a deeper, promiscuous touch. 

The whole moment felt like walking a tightrope in high heels and you were terrified of what might happen if you stumbled. Your friendship was too precious for you to lose it over a stupid mistake. But, God, why did it feel so tempting to surrender to it?

Heeseung looked at you with adoration and eagerness, his body surprisingly relaxed, or at least you read it like that, as if the scenery was as simple as one plus one, as though he had everything under control.

Little did you know he was extremely, ridiculously, intensely anxious of what cost he would have to be paying in order to not destroy everything. If you paid close attention, you would probably see his gray shirt moving to the strong beats of his heart, loud enough to make him wonder if he was going to survive the outcome.

Another sigh trailed off your mouth as you scratched the back of your neck, clearly torn between the open choices in front of you. You could easily opt to ignore that and shove Heeseung away with some joke, or perhaps answer his question without thinking too intensely about it; you could fake it, hiding your real feelings in a dialogue made up from your head. 

Or you could let your friendship fade into the depths of your lustful desire of having Heeseung for yourself as a whole man, shameless flirting with him the way you always wanted to. 

And then, it clicked. He was offering you the perfect opportunity, the perfect project to subtly guide your decisions, all while pushing you towards the inevitable conclusion: you were about to ruin that friendship.

“Fuck it,” you muttered under your breath to yourself, and right after your sharp, determined gaze met his, leaving no chance for any possible retort. “I think we need to fantasize a scenario, then.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the shift in tone but too intrigued to ask questions. “Why?” he smirked, leaning in slightly. “Does the scenario where you flirt with your best friend in your living room not quite match the vibe?”

You forced an exaggerated look of disgust, but it was more for show than anything else. Neither of you was fooled by your performance. “No, it doesn’t.”

Heeseung chuckled, the tension slowly melting between you two. But even as the laughter filled the air, the uncertainty of what was coming next buzzed in the back of your mind, tempting you to run. Yet, your heart, much to a surprise, was urging you to stay, to follow this dangerous path wherever it might lead.

“Ok. So let's just picture we're in a club–” Heeseung started, straightening his posture. 

“I don't go to clubs.” You quickly deadpanned, eliciting a small “oh” from him.

“Right.” He agreed, frowning while trying to think of another situation. “So…”

You sighed in defeat, biting your lip briefly before saying. 

“I'm your classmate and I have a huge crush on you…?” You blurted out in one breath, yet hesitant, feeling your entire face heat up with embarrassment.

Especially because the said scenario had already played out before, making it easier to go along with – or worse, making it feel way too realistic.

“Nice! That's a good one.” Heeseung replied, his voice carrying a cheerful tone that had you scrunching your nose at his obliviousness, though it wasn’t entirely his fault that you were harboring bottled-up feelings for him. “So what would you do?”

You toyed with your bottom lip, grazing it lightly with your teeth as you tried to quell your nerves, all while struggling to ignore the way your friend sounded urgent, excited, and unmistakably eager. It was as if the entire script had been meticulously crafted long ago. As if he genuinely and wholeheartedly wanted you to flirt with him and walk past the friends line.

Dangerously close.

Before you voiced out, you cleared your throat not to waver on your words. “So, since we're classmates, we'd probably see each other everyday...”

Heeseung nodded, his bambi-eyes following your every movement as you shifted on your seat slightly. “Yeah.”

“As a girl with a crush on you, I'd try my best to stand out somehow and grab your attention first. And the most common way is…” You paused, casting a wary glance towards Heeseung, as though your next words carried a weight too immense to risk uttering lightly. “Eye contact?”

After some time, locking eyes with Heeseung became an increasingly challenging task because it meant having the opportunity to take in every detail of his impossibly attractive face.

The faint mole on his forehead and the ones near his nose were like tiny stars adorning a beautiful sky; that very nose that made you want to squeal from how adorable and rounded its tip was, all while provoking thoughts far too indecent to entertain.

His constant parted lips carried an unique charm, naturally inviting with their slightly reddish hue. At times, they took on a deeper tone, whether from the way Heeseung pressed them together whenever he entered the deep concentration state or nibbled at them to suppress a laugh after teasing you.

If you dared let your gaze wander further, you would notice the sharp point of his chin and, just below it, his prominent Adam’s apple – a mesmerizing detail you never imagined could have such an effect on you. The subtle movement of it bobbing up and down held your focus captive as though it had the power to dictate your every subsequent action.

A sigh slipped from your lips before you even realized the silence that had overtaken you, nor the way Heeseung, with his warm brown eyes, oozed affection and attentiveness your way.

“You’re not making eye contact…” Despite his observation, there wasn’t a trace of reprimand in his tone. It was soft, like a summer breeze brushing against your skin, gentle yet impactful enough to make your eyes widen as you leaned back in surprise.

You hadn’t even noticed how close you had unconsciously leaned towards him.

“Sorry,” you muttered after clearing your throat, redirecting your gaze to a random spot in Heeseung’s lap. Yet, contrary to what you expected, he shifted forward, closing the distance further, his knees nearly brushing against yours.

You looked up at him, confusion and apprehension flickering in your expression, ready to ask why he was coming so close, but he left no room for your question.

“Does the proximity of the girl interfere with flirting?”

His tone was low, soft even, each word drawn out with deliberate care. It carried a designed tenderness that nudged the borders of unexplored intimacy between the two of you, crafted perfectly to unbalance your soul.

Breathing became difficult as your heart raced, your body begging you to flee.

“N–normally, it’s not this close.” You cursed yourself for stuttering, but how could you not? How could you remain composed when Heeseung’s voice carried an intimacy you had never heard before? You had never seen this side of him, never had him like this.

Your gaze latched onto the way his long eyelashes fluttered with each deliberate blink, the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips, and the way his breath mingled with yours as he leaned impossibly closer.

“Yeah?” He murmured, his eyes dipping briefly to your lips in a silent, daring plea to let actions replace words. “Then why are you this close?”

You desperately tried to come up with a coherent response, perhaps to point out that it was he who had closed the gap. But your mind had abandoned rationality, leaving you to stumble over a weak, “B–Because you sat there, you idiot.”

You broke eye contact abruptly, reality crashing over you like a tidal wave. The sheer weight of the moment urged you to shift away, to reclaim your space and calm the chaos in your chest.

But Heeseung wasn’t ready to let you go.

With surprising swiftness, he shifted his body upright and gently pulled your arm so you could get onto his lap, his hands holding you firmly yet carefully in place.

“No,” he murmured, shaking his head softly as his voice dropped an octave, steady and soothing, eliciting an immediate gasp from you. “I want to know how girls flirt when they’re this close.”

You found yourself awkwardly sitting sideways on his lap, blinking in confusion, hesitation etched into every line of your expression. All you could manage was a whispered “What?” that answered or replied nothing at all, it simply materialized into words something that reflected your genuine state.

Your breath hitched as Heeseung leaned in even closer, the heat of his body melding with yours like he was a powerful devil coming from the gates of Hell. His gaze, now tinged with something more potent that torn in between desire, yearning and  an unspoken question, stirred something wild within you.

And for a fleeting moment he hesitated, the weight of the uncharted territory between friendship and something deeper making him pause and analyze his possibilities, the small shift on his gaze betraying him. But as his fingers tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering on your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin, his resolve solidified.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his words as soft as the pad of his thumb tracing the curve of your lips. He gently tugged at your bottom lip, leaving you breathless, lips parted, and trembling. “I’m sorry for the way I went about this,” he added, his voice feather-light, his warm breath caressing your skin. “But I couldn’t think of another way to put us in this exact moment.”

Your body froze, your mind unable to fully process what was happening. One moment, Heeseung was your charming best friend who eventually became your lifelong crush, the next you were on his lap, in a compromising position and with your faces inches apart.

You were suffocating in the heavy atmosphere, unsure of how to respond to the rush of emotions crashing over you; it left you in a state of emotional overload, in shock, utterly overwhelmed.

And then, with a softness that cracked the air between you, that broke your tensed nerves and fluttered your chest, you saw his eyes falter, waiting for a sign, a proper answer for his following question.

“Can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering with words, you closed the remaining space yourself, your lips meeting in a collision of longing, and, so far, unspoken feelings that were buried deep in both of your souls, now lingering in the atmosphere as a quiet, yet delectable high voltage cursing over your body that you struggled deliciously to drift through. 

Torn in a conflict of decisions and a mutual desire, you had finally tasted what had been tempting you for so long. The softness, the warmth, the way Heeseung’s lips fit so perfectly against yours, tailored to match you as if they were meant to be.

Crossed everything you had imagined, now buzzing like a soft echo of reminiscences from when kissing Heeseung equated to a fever dream, to impossible, unattainable. 

Your body seemed to float in contact to soft clouds that gently embraced you; and then you realized that it was Heeseung holding you tenderly, kindly tracing the curves of your waist in a position that, now, was anything but comfortable.

Even so, the world outside felt like it didn't exist anymore. There was only the two of you, kissing with your breaths mingling intimately, with quiet sounds of contentment slipping out between that touch, one you had longed for far too long to waste the seconds that followed.

You deepened it, seeking Heeseung's tongue with yours almost desperately. The shock of the encounter of the two warm muscles was intoxicating, leaving you completely weak, and had you not been sitting, you would have easily fallen to the ground.

Kissing Heeseung at that moment felt like a relief. Relief in knowing that you were both on the same page when it came to the shared connection. Relief in realizing that his mouth desired you as much as yours craved his.

It was comforting to acknowledge how your body fit into his, in every possible way.

And it was then that you became aware of how your hands had automatically found their way into the soft strands of Heeseung's hair, pulling him just enough to draw the small grunts he released each time you did.

Your heart skipped a beat when Heeseung pulled away, tugging your lower lip with a soft bite. You opened your eyes slightly to search for an answer, fearing that regret had hit him like a powerful, striking bolt, but the truth was: he just needed to breathe in order to stay grounded and aware of what had just happened.

Shit. He was completely fucked, because now he knew how incredible it was to hear your breath hitch, to feel your fingers glide across his goosebumped skin with a tender, tempting touch, almost filthy, as your mouths melded together in an unprecedented rhythm.

He knew what it was like to have you intimately, and losing that feeling started to be his most intense fear.

Heeseung hadn't noticed, but there was a faint frown on his forehead that stirred conflicting emotions in you. He breathed heavily, almost panting while searching for air in his lungs. His eyes lowered, hypnotized by your parted lips, which willingly offered themselves to him.

It felt like a sweet indulgence, completely exposed, like someone on a strict diet, almost forbidden from indulging in the delicious taste of your mouth.

One simple kiss and he was completely undone, in the most delightful way possible. And beyond that, he began to crave you even harder. Dangerously harder.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, a mild frighten cursing through your veins, your voice barely above a whisper as your fingers continued to caress Heeseung's neck.

Your hooded eyes tried to pull an explanation for why he had stopped so suddenly.

He let out a low chuckle, a sound deep enough to make you shiver inside, sending a strange energy straight to between your thighs that made you unconsciously clench your legs, as your panties started to damp.

Heeseung’s hand, resting there, immediately noticed, making him smirk and lift his gaze. “You,” he sealed his lips with yours, “are unreal,” followed by another small kiss and, once again, a pause to admire you.

Heeseung looked at you with passion and tenderness, but mostly with desire. He wanted you.

No. 

He needed you.

You swallowed hard as you met his piercing gaze before he stood up, making you rise with him. Standing, he grabbed you by the waist and, still smiling, kissed the corner of your lips without any proper explanation. 

Your hands felt awkwardly frozen in mid-air, near Heeseung’s chest, as if you forgot how to function as a human being. To ease your visible tension and also taking some advantage of the moment, Heeseung lowered his mouth and planted a sweet trail of small, wet kisses down to your neck.

Your head immediately tilted to the side, almost as if he had typed the right password to gain free access to explore your body,  his large hands cupping your ass with just the right balance of respect and desire. While you allowed him this closeness, he was careful not to overstep, not when you both had only just begun to unravel that delicate part of your... friendship?

Gradually, you let yourself go, questioning less and following the flow deliberately; your hands now resting on Heeseung’s broad shoulders while he continued his project of driving you insane with his kisses.

“Hee…” You sighed softly when his teeth grazed a particular spot near your ear, too sensitive to keep you quiet, weak enough to make your knees nearly give way involuntarily.

“Don’t call me like that, baby…” Heeseung murmured softly against your skin, the vibration of his voice aligning with the tremor in your core, the endearment compelling you to clutch your eyes closed. Before you could even think of apologizing, he continued. “Or else I’ll get harder. And this fucking boner is already annoying me.”

For a brief, considerable second, you couldn’t comprehend his statement, your eyes opening in pure confusion as you stared at him, silently asking for an explanation. But Heeseung remained hidden in your neck, and you could even feel the ghost of his mischievous smile tracing your skin, rendering your mind incapable of thinking about anything other than his inebriating presence.

Then, he thrusted forward, just enough to press his hips against your body while gripping your waist to prevent you from stumbling back, and you felt it.

The layers of fabric between you two did nothing to mask the clarity of his intentions, not when he subtly, but unmistakably, demonstrated what he was referring to – a bulge sufficiently big to elicit a jolt of a quiver through your being, firm and clearly starting to grow painfully hard as Heeseung began to repeat that move.

So you had that effect on him? You turned him on? That was an unexpected delight. The warmth of it made you squirm in sudden discomfort, wishing you could feel it in a different way – one with fewer clothes.

Heeseung’s lascivious kisses on your neck switched to sloppy-messy ones, merging with the subtle grind of his hips against yours as he seeked for the smallest release to his thirst. The sensation made you let out a soft, almost teasing moan, provoking his restraint to the brim.

“Fuck…” he groaned, faltering by the way you were letting him grind shamelessly like a dog in heat, still fully clothed. “Tell me to stop, please..." His voice was ragged, like an aching, shaky plea that made his movements halt, since his focus turned inward in order to find some self-control.

But didn’t give such a command. Instead, you opened the door, not-so-silently inviting Heeseung deeper into the moment, into you. You couldn’t care less about your friendship, not when you craved to have your said best friend touching you intimately, to have his length twitching inside you while fucking your senses out of you as if his life depended on it.

You shook your head, a sly smile curving your lips when you whispered right in his ear. 

“Take me to my room, Hee.”

His desperation thickened as he surrendered to the overwhelming warmth between you two, a vocal groan cursing through his throat when he maneuvered easily your body by grabbing your thighs, inciting you to wrap your legs around his waist as he busied his mouth in yours, messily guiding both of you to your room. 

You found support on his shoulders and giggled in between the sloppy kiss, but you couldn’t quite enjoy the feeling of his strong grip surrounding your body with precision for too long, as your back quickly reached the soft mattress of your bed.

Heeseung's big figure towered over you, scooching up as a way to help you both find a comfortable position until your head was touching one of your pillows, lips still attached to each other in pure hunger.

You wondered if putting your feelings into words would add to the moment, but nothing truly needed to be said. The unspoken tension you shared with Heeseung had carried your relationship this far – this wasn’t the time to disrupt it with confessions of the obvious. Not when you had him kissing you so intensely, so voraciously, as though he were utterly parched and you were his only source of relief.

It felt exhilarating to have Heeseung this needy, his body reacting to every subtle motion of yours. You rolled your hips gently against his, seeking mutual friction in a desperate bid for release.

Your fingers wandered through his disheveled hair, occasionally trailing down his subtly muscular arms – the very arms that had always been your weakness.

Heeseung wasn’t bulky or overly built, but he had a lean, breathtaking frame, with just the right amount of definition in certain places. Supporting his weight on the bed, you could feel the tension in his arms under your touch, muscles tightening even more each time your hands dared to drift lower, grazing his back, your nails lightly scratching.

The slight scrape drew delicious sighs from him, each one lost in the fervor of your kiss.

Heeseung’s free hand explored wherever it could reach, teasingly brushing beneath the hem of your shirt, as though waiting for your silent permission to go further. And you took your cue right away.

“Hee…” you broke the intense, breath-stealing kiss to murmur his name, your voice soft, your eyes barely open as the world around you seemed heavier, hotter.

He reacted instantly to the familiar nickname, though now it carried a filthy weight that would linger with him forever. His hips pressed against yours in a motion that sent a shockwave through your core, the direct contact of his pelvis with yours setting you alight.

Lifting his gaze to meet yours, he found pure, unrestrained lust staring back at him. The words that followed made him falter, disbelief flashing across his features at the reality of what he had craved for so long finally coming true.

“I want you,” you whispered, eyes tenderly, yet oozing with desire looking at his brown orbs.

Heeseung’s jaw tightened as he swallowed hard, his expression shifting to something taut, focused. He studied you with care, searching for hesitation, for any trace of doubt in your plea. But he found none, only mutual desire, raw and unfiltered.

A breath of laughter escaped him, quiet and disbelieving, as his lips, swollen and glistening with your shared kisses, curved into a cheeky, yet content and relieved, smile.

“Don’t laugh…” You whined, squirming beneath him in a feeble attempt to escape his teasing gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he said with his voice low, gravelly, making you shiver. “It’s just… This feels like a dream.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks and you failed to hold back a smile. “So, you’ve dreamed about me?”

“Every single day, Y/N,” Heeseung admitted, his eyes dropping to your lips once again, heavy with yearning, with need. 

He looked intoxicated, or maybe hypnotized. Whatever it was, he felt as though his body had transcended reality itself. Because even in his dreams, he never imagined having you like this – so real, so wholly his.

“Tell me that again…” A delicate plea. “Please,” a desperate beg.

“What?” You whispered back in confusion, your eyelids feeling heavy with the proximity of the moment, making it difficult to keep admiring the tempting view of Heeseung slowly falling apart.

“That you want me.”

Heeseung’s perfume had taken over you, invading your senses completely like a flood, and you were the one feeling drunk right now, as a deep goosebump ran through your spine hearing – understanding – his request.

“I want you,” you repeated, your voice trembling with the weight of confessing something so intrinsic. 

Heeseung's breath mingled with yours, shaky, weak; the warmth of it ghosting over your lips as he hovered above you was making you dizzy. His gaze burned into yours, holding a quarter of darkness and contrastingly tenderness that matched his impossibly gentle touch on your waist. 

He moved deliberately, savoring the anticipation building up quite fast, stirring an ache that got your stomach bubbling with expectation and a weird anxiety. You tightened your grip on his hair when the tip of his cute nose brushed against yours and his reddened lips grazed over your mouth.

“Again, please,” he murmured in a husky whisper; due to the closeness, the movement tickled the skin of your lips and spurred you to lick the area, your tongue caressing both your swollen lips.

You sighed, closing your eyes.

You could feel your core pulsing in need, your skin prickling due to the insufferable tension that grew stronger, ticker, teetering the unbearable within each second, making you wonder how longer you would be able to hold yourself back. 

The magnetic tension surrounding you two made every breath feel like a desperate beg, igniting a hunger within you so fierce it consumed you.

Felt like the last thing you would ever crave in your life was right before you. But apparently, Heeseung longed to hear you speak a little more before taking any action.

“I want you, Hee,” you said again, quieter this time, though your tone was no less intense – it was even more raw.

Heeseung’s lashes fluttered shut for a moment, absorbing the confession like it was his lifeline. He repeated the motion of rubbing his nose on yours, now tilting his head to the side and groaning. That couldn't be real. You couldn’t be real.

He needed one more. Just. One. More.

“One more, please…” he pleaded, the words slipping out between deep, controlled breaths that did nothing to mask the tremor of desperation in his tone.

“I need you, Heeseung.”

His forehead pressed lightly against yours as he exhaled a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging with the weight of restraint. The charged air between you seemed to thicken, wrapping you both in an intoxicating haze.

Despite the tenderness of the moment, the desire simmering beneath the surface was undeniable – present in the way his hands traced delicate patterns along your waist, in the way his chest rose and fell with the rhythm of yours, in the way his lips hovered, so close yet so agonizingly distant.

“I need you right now, Hee. Please.”

And with your last wish, Heeseung obeyed your command.

Followed by a passionate kiss, one he tried to take his time to appreciate your taste, he also held the waistband of your shorts and, after your silent nod amidst the clash of your mouths when he hesitated, he began to move it down to your thighs, revealing the softness of your bare skin to his curious hands. 

Thick fingers brushed against your sensitive bundle of nerves, the thin barrier of your panties doing little to dull the sensation. The whimper that followed barely met the real world, swallowed whole by Heeseung’s eager mouth as he drank in your expressive, delicate reactions, savoring every trembling note like a melody meant only for him.

“So wet.” Heeseung stated the obvious after feeling your arousal sticking across the fabric, playfully tapping just to tease and feel its viscosity.

If the room was quiet enough, he would be able to hear the wet sound of his pats. 

He dived into your neck since he couldn’t keep up with the pace of the shared kiss, not when you were letting out such beautiful noises as he pressed his fingers on your entrance over your clothing piece, taunting that release that seemed far to reach.

“Hee–” You whined in frustration, swinging your hips towards Heeseung’s fleeting touches as well as tightening your grasp on his locks.

“I know, I know,” he chuckled, deep and low. You pouted when he flashed you a charming smirk, matching perfectly with his amused, yet playful eyes. “Let me take care of you, mhm?”

And with that, Heeseung made quick work of removing the rest of your clothing, still caught around your thighs, panties included. He bit his lip, a soft sigh escaping alongside a subtle furrow of his brow in delight as he took in the full view of your pussy, glistening with your wetness – all caused by him. 

You wanted to close your legs and hide, but he held you open and exposed to his sight. Heeseung could feel his stomach fluttering, tightening with sparkling expectation. 

Beneath the teasing slowness of his movements, there was a Heeseung teetering dangerously close to the edge of insanity, warring to find some self-control. And it was entirely your fault.

The effect you had on Heeseung was nothing short of surreal. Even the simple act of your consent, given with every piece of fabric he slid away from your body, only served to fuel the fire within his desire, leaving his body, mind, soul, everything he had drunk on the sheer anticipation of what was to come.

“Fucking beautiful, baby.”

The compliment was common – Heeseung always praised your good looks. But the endearment slipped past his lips with extra ease, as if calling you baby – his baby – was as natural as a heartbeat, as expected as blossoming flowers during spring. 

By the way your cheeks warmed, you could tell your entire face was betraying your shyness, especially when Heeseung offered you a genuine, content smile, as if he were expressly happy that you had allowed him to see you in this form.

He still hadn’t unclasped your bra and had only removed his own shirt, dragging out painfully the moment of leaving you both naked.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t help the small flicker of worry, a strong fear of disappointing Heeseung.

You had only had sex once in your life, with an ex-boyfriend you had trusted enough to take that step, believing that being in a relationship would make it less hurtful and more enjoyable. You were wrong.

Not only had you suffered physically from his lack of care, but you hadn’t even come close to reaching your own orgasm.

Heeseung knew the rough outline of that story. He was aware that you weren’t a virgin anymore but hadn’t asked for too many details. Partly because he hated the thought of someone else being the one to take that from you.

A pang of jealousy lingered, even though, at the time – just a few months ago – he hadn’t seriously considered taking such a step with you.

It was only after your breakup, and the frustration that radiated off you, that Heeseung decided to act. He couldn’t stand the idea of you putting yourself down, settling for men who gave you less than the bare minimum, when he was right there, longing to give you the world.

“Let me see you too, Hee.”

Your soft request came accompanied by a gentle caress over Heeseung’s slightly flustered cheeks, his lovingly expression hiding the inner battle he was fighting to keep himself composed.

He gave a small nod, standing up from the bed to remove the last of his clothes, granting you the sinful sight of his body, a thin sheen of sweat accentuating the bronzed tone of his skin. Your gaze dropped slowly towards his erection, standing stiff, flushed, with the tip in a darker shade, glistening with leaking precum. 

“Hot,” you murmured quietly, the word barely leaving your lips. But in the stillness of the room, Heeseung heard it.

A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, shy and uncharacteristic – a glimpse of the awkward, reserved side of your friend that you loved teasing, the side that wasn’t used to receiving compliments and always got adorably flustered when they came.

You giggled, beckoning him with a curl of your finger. “Come here, hmm?”

And who was Heeseung to deny you?

In an instant, he reclaimed his place over your body, his mouth finding its way to the smoothness of your chest, lips grazing and tasting your skin. His hands slid behind your back, intent on finally removing the last piece of fabric that kept you hidden from him, and it took less than seconds for you to whimper, slamming your eyes shut as you felt Heeseung gently nip at your nipple.

“Hurry up,” you muttered within a squirm. “Please, Hee. I need you inside me."

You were quick and precise in expressing your desire, your contorted expression of pleasure blended with frustration making it clear that you didn’t want any more delays, especially since he had already dragged things out too much, and you were about to crawl the walls around you to feel him properly.

“Condom?” He murmured against your skin, smiling slightly at your desperation, though he was just as bad, if not worse.

“I don’t have it,” you moaned as he bit your stomach while lowering his hot, wet kisses. Your hands tried to find support in anything – the sheets, his hair, his shoulders – in order to ground yourself, while Heeseung seemed too calm for his own good. “But we don’t need it.”

Immediately, Heeseung froze. He stopped and lifted his gaze, scanning your face for any trace of teasing or hesitation in your words, half-expecting you to be joking or playing around, but instead, all he found was the raw, unfiltered desire of your soul exposed before him.

“I trust you,” you whispered in between your heavy breaths, a soft smile tugging at your lips that countered any remnant doubt resting inside Heeseung. You gently caressed his cheek, pulling him back to you, your eyes locking in a quiet promise that only you two knew the meaning. “I trust you, Hee.”

That was the tipping point. You, who had been wondering how Heeseung maintained such control, watched as his tender nearly relaxed gaze vanished entirely, swallowed by a wave of desire, as if pure lust had consumed his state completely.

“Don’t say that, love,” a murmur. His voice trembled, just as his arms struggled to hold himself still. He then kissed you intensely, shutting down any possibility of you retorting the pet name, barely giving you time to recognize how your heart skipped a beat.

Heeseung’s hips shifted in the precise motion to bring you closer, to claim you. You shivered.

“I’m going insane, you have no fucking idea.”

Though the choice of words said behind gritted teeth, it was clear Heeseung gravitated towards vulnerability rather than anything harsh; he sounded unsteady, but not in a worrying way. It seemed as if he had surrendered completely to your existence, almost like a personal devotion.

His soft, now familiar lips found home on yours again, pulling you into a singular kiss filled with unspoken emotions, while one of Heeseung's hands gently caressed your waist to keep you still, beginning to position his hardness against your aching hole.

Feeling the distinct pressure in that area generated an unconscious and uncontrollable tension in you, your shoulders stiffening, your hands gripping Heeseung's arms immediately and your mouth stopping properly working as the fear of the pain that would follow from that simple action started to creep up your spine.

“What's wrong, love?” Heeseung asked kindly, pausing his movements as he noticed the sudden rigidity in your body; he had only inserted the tip, and you had become completely tense.

“N–Nothing…” You shook your head, your eyes clenched closed as you tried to regulate your heartbeat and breaths. So far, there was no burning sensation where Heeseung had placed himself, but still, you were afraid.

By any means he was big, you had gotten a beautiful view of him just a few minutes ago, and although your mouth watered to have him fully inside you, there was a lingering feeling that held your soothness back.

“Baby…” Heeseung murmured softly, his voice carrying a subtle insistence as he sensed the clear discomfort and the blatant lie in your response, his concerned eyes searching for any hint of truth in your contorted expression.

“I’m sorry.” You pouted, refusing to open your eyes, the weight of vulnerability overwhelming you.

“For what?” He asked, a small trace of confusion in his voice, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he offered you the choice to end it without guilt or hesitation. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” You blurted, snapping your eyes open, your pupils wide and searching his face. Your head shook vehemently, your hands gripping his shoulders in a reflexive act of urgency as well as your legs, wrapping around his waist to keep him in place.

“Then what is it, baby?”

Heeseung adjusted his body slightly, his movements deliberate and tender, ensuring he wouldn’t press into you too forcefully. He kept his tip brushing against your folds, the sensation teasingly close but never quite crossing the threshold. He silently made the decision not to push you further unless you signaled otherwise.

“It’s just…” You exhaled shakily, your eyes downcast, unable to meet his unwavering gaze. “I’ve never– I mean, I did have sex once, but it was so painful, and it hurt so much, and I didn’t even… Y’know…”

You spoke in a flurry, your words tumbling out in a nervous rush, and through it, Heeseung caught the part of the story you had kept hidden and he never dared to ask about. His heart clenched, it became clear that this was a truth that now needed care.

“He wasn’t even that big, but it hurt because he didn’t care about me, and–”

“My love.” Heeseung interrupted, his voice breaking through with a soft, comforting tone. You stopped speaking instantly, blinking up at him with those wide, innocent eyes that held so much unspoken trust. He smiled warmly, a reassuring tenderness in his touch. “I’d never hurt you,” he whispered, his voice firm with sincerity. “And I’d never, ever force you to do anything you don’t want.”

“I want you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, needy, desperate even. “I’m just… afraid.”

“We can take it slow, love,” he said, his words a mutual understanding between you both, the promise of patience in his voice.

He slowly began to press his tip into you again, the sensation soft but insistent, giving you time to adjust. You swallowed thickly, your breath hitching as you tried to calm the anxiety racing through you.

There were sounds threatening to escape your throat that you couldn't properly control, so you just let them out.

“Relax, alright? It’s me. I’m your best friend. I’m not going to hurt you. We can stop whenever you want.”

Through reassuring phrases and tender kisses planted over your face – and mainly on your parted lips –, Heeseung deliberately entered you whole, until his dick was being hugged by your clenching walls and his pelvis fully met your body.

You took a deep breath several times. The sensation was uncomfortable, strange; there was an intruder inside you, and you couldn't quite enjoy the so-called pleasure during sex due to it, but as the long seconds passed and your body relaxed, you began to adjust to the weight of Heeseung's length inside you.

And finally you noticed that Heeseung himself had buried his face at the crook of your neck, breathing as heavy as you, completely frozen in place.

“Hee?” You called and gave a soft stroke to his hair. 

“Give me a minute,” the words came rapidly and slurred, like an incomprehensible mumble.

You quirked an eyebrow, trying to find his face to read whatever was happening.

“Are you okay?”

Heeseung groaned. “Yes. It’s just…” He gulped, clutching his eyes closed and grunting a curse, his hands tightening their grip on your waist. “Fuck—You feel amazing, baby.” His breath hitched as his body tensed, muscles flexing under the strain of trying to hold back. “I need a minute.”

“Alright…” 

Although you couldn’t understand why, you just… Waited. But he made sure to add.

“So fucking tight–” Something about how desperate and lost he sounded close to your ear had your walls clenching even more. “I can’t– I don’t wanna cum right now.”

There was no plausible explanation for the flutter in your chest, let alone the heat that spread across every inch of your skin, hitting your core in a way that was almost overwhelming after hearing his confession.

Knowing that Heeseung was physically unable to move, simply because his release was so close – practically edging himself – made you feel more thrilled than you would ever admit out loud.

As the best of friends – after all, you hadn’t defined your relationship yet –, you chose the path of teasing, letting out a light giggle and giving a playful tap on his back as you said, “Take your time, big boy. I'm not going anywhere.”

Heeseung chuckled, though the sound was tinged with frustration and craving, the weight of his restraint still palpable.

Throughout the heated makeout moment, he was already far too affected – though he wouldn’t admit it now, having your lips against his had been more than enough to leave him ridiculously hard. The shameless grinding had teased his sensitivity with just the right intensity, pushing him dangerously close to the edge.

Now, finally experiencing the tightness of your pussy enveloping around his cock, it was a unique kind of downfall that made his control slip past his fingers, his entire body shivering as trying to contain himself. 

“I wanna– I wanna last longer for you,” a breathy, shaky moan escaped when he tried to move, pulling back just a little to shove back again. “Fuck baby…”

Heeseung was on the verge of insanity.

He couldn’t find the right explanation to how good your wet, warm interior welcomed him in an addictive sensation of fulfillment, as if he had found the exact place he needed and wanted to be.

However, as he began to set a slow, tantalizing rhythm, not only to himself but for you not to feel any pain, your soft, breathy noises became the driving force behind his every move.

Each sound you made was like music to his ears, embedding itself deeply in his mind and shaping his every decision; they spurred him on, a motivator to remain as steady and deliberate as possible, even as his own restraint threatened to crumble.

Heeseung was vividly avoiding to fall into the depths of his true needs of egoisticaly fucking you hard and fast.

And then, you begged.

“Can you go faster? Please?”

A guttural groan was Heeseung’s immediate response, primal and unrestrained, as if your request alone had sent him reeling like a starving hunter finally closing in on its prey.

He paused for a beat, letting the weight of your words settle between the thick air and then shifted the pace, growing more intense, aiming for a sharper, purposeful motion.

Heeseung straightened slightly, lifting his torso enough to pull his face from the haven of your neck and give himself a clear view of your beautiful pleasured face. His gaze met yours briefly before going downward, to the mesmerizing connection of your bodies moving together – your hips chasing his pounds like your life depended on it. 

Your hazed sight saw his brows furrowing as well as his pursed lips that reflected his immense concentration. Sweat clung to his skin, a few damp strands of hair got stuck to his forehead while the rest, equally damp, fell forward and lightly brushed your face with every thrust.

That sight was a sinful privilege; watching him completely undone yet intensely focused was enough to leave you breathless. And still, your slightly high-pitched whimpers harmonized with each precise thrust.

You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, and instinctively, you mirrored that grip in your hands, clutching Heeseung’s hair as you pulled him into a messy kiss. Tongues moved sloppily, chasing each other and swallowing his deep groans along with your incoherent pleas for him not to stop.

A mutual desire began to creep, one that neither of you wanted to escape, a longing as deep as two bodies yearning, painfully, to occupy the same space and merge together. It became evident in the way you clung to him, your arms wrapping around Heeseung's warm, sweaty body, pressing him down, not even caring about the slight pain in your sensitive boobs as you did so.

“I think I’m close,” you managed to announce amidst the intoxicating chaos of your senses.

There was a thick veil of lust enveloping you both, leaving you utterly dazed; the sensation was surreal, overwhelmingly good, and for the first time you truly understood what people meant when they talked about sex.

Heeseung had heard your voice distant and muffled, since his mind had drifted away, lost in the overwhelming mix of pleasure and the aching pain of edging his orgasm; his leaking precum started to blend with your sticky arousal as both of you reached over the edge.

Your eyes rolled when Heeseung started to pound into a specific spot in you, stirring your mouth to fall open with soft cries slipping past your throat, while your nails dug into the flesh of his back, scratching strong enough to leave marks. 

Heeseung barely registered it at first, though he would wear those marks proudly once he did. Still, it stung, a faint burn that somehow awakened his primal need to let go. Added to it, your pussy started to pulse and clench tightly against his painfully sensitive shaft. And so, he begged.

“Please, cum for me,” a small pause to breathe. “Please, I need you to– Please…” 

Your eyes fluttered shut and you trembled. Listening to Heeseung’s broken voice asking you for something you couldn’t quite control bordered the inexplicable and finally it snapped. 

You arched your back and went silent immediately, as if the entire world around you disappeared. You could hear and feel the weight of your heartbeats echoing through you, feel the vibrations of your body, hear the faint, distant noises of Heeseung’s moans and curses and the sound of your bodies colliding.

The intensity of your climax had you gasping for air right after you managed to regain a small portion of your consciousness, your legs squirming as the pleasure took over. 

Meanwhile, Heeseung barely pulled out in time, ensuring he had guided you through your high enough to leave you satisfied.

He would blame himself later for not giving you his absolute best. For now, his focus was on relieving the unbearable, painful tightness in his balls and dick. And so he did, releasing a guttural groan that seemed to resonate from the depths of his soul before spilling out into a delicious sound.

The wave that coursed through his body was devastatingly intense, leaving him trembling and unsteady to the point where his arms briefly faltered in holding him up.

You parted your tired eyes just enough to watch as he came all over your stomach – so much of it that it trickled down onto the sheets beneath you, leaving you completely sticky.

Both of you fought for air, desperately panting as your bodies surrendered, sinking into an overwhelming state of relaxation. A genuine urge to drift into sleep washed over you, your arms falling limply at your sides as your heavy-lidded eyes fought a losing battle to stay open.

You gave up to the exhaustion, watching through half-closed eyes as Heeseung collapsed into the space beside you. 

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured softly, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek.

You tried to blink away your fatigue, but only managed to respond in a low, drowsy whisper, “For what?”

“I lost control. I didn’t do as well as I wanted to. I ruined your sheets. And… you’re all sticky. I know you hate being sticky.”

A quiet giggle escaped your lips at his string of concerns, your body vibrating with a warm, joyous satisfaction at the depth of the bond you shared. It was the expected contrast: Heeseung, overthinking every detail of his performance, and you, utterly smitten, finding his anxieties endearing.

“I loved it, Hee.”

Your praise was genuine, carrying a soft hint of reassurance to ease his insecurity. There wasn’t a single part of you that could ever truly mind the things he listed – not even his so-called mistakes.

“You were gentle and loving,” you continued, brushing a hand against the arm that sweetly wrapped around you, avoiding the result of the earlier moment. 

Heeseung’s face pressed against yours with his breath tickling your skin – an intimacy you could easily grow used to, but for now, had your heart fluttering. 

“And even when you ‘lost control,’ you stayed here. With me.”

Heeseung hummed with a hint of contentment, a faint smile creeping through his tensed barriers after your comforting words. He shifted like a puppy snuggling into a cozy corner, a gesture he did with you a few times before, but never when you were both so intimately bare in that way.

You both remained silent for a while, absorbing the reality of what had just unfolded.

No openly affectionate words were exchanged. Instead, actions took the lead, allowing you to share an intimate, deeply personal moment guided by mutual pleasure. There was no need for a romantic confession – it felt unnecessary.

Every small gesture during the earlier moment – from Heeseung's steady calmness as he talked you through it, easing your anxiety, to the way you reassured him after the end about how well he did – spoke volumes. It was more than enough to prove that the love between you burned far beyond the bounds of friendship.

Heeseung was lost in thought, exhilarated by having been able to share such a profound connection with you. The mutual desire for each other was undeniable, and no words could ever compare to the overwhelming sensation of, now, not simply having the facility to say he loved you – as he had so often as a friend – but to show it.

To demonstrate to you how every fiber of his being, his soul, his existence, was drawn to you, yearning for you, consumed by you.

“Hm, this sticky thing on my stomach is really bothering me,” you broke the silence as the haze cleared and the awareness of your body set in. You pushed his arm aside, preparing to leave the bed and clean yourself up.

“Shit,” Heeseung’s eyes widened, and he got on his feet before you could.

As he had  mentioned earlier, you hated feeling sticky. He realized might had fucked it up by neglecting to help you clean up, by not providing the aftercare you deserved.

Yet, he couldn’t blame himself too harshly; everything about the moment had left him utterly dizzy in the best way possible. It felt like he had lived out a dream once thought unattainable, and the surrealness of it all still lingered.

Your soft, familiar voice snapped him back to reality, reminding him there were consequences to address, and he wanted nothing more than to face each one with you, in every detail, if it meant staying by your side.

“Let me help, okay?” He eagerly offered, reaching out to steady you as you sat up. He barely suppressed a laugh at the grimace that overtook your face as the sticky fluid slid from your stomach to your thighs.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you teased as you walked to the bathroom together. “You’re hot, and all of this was ridiculously amazing, but I really don’t like all this cum–”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence. Heeseung interrupted, gently but insistently pushing you to sit on the toilet. 

“Pee,” he instructed firmly, yet calm.

You blinked up at him in confusion, one eyebrow raised.

“It helps prevent infections,” he clarified.

“I know,” you rolled your eyes, staring at him for a moment. He stared back. The scene was unexpectedly comical – both of you naked, exchanging deadpan looks.

“Get out of the bathroom, silly.”

“I don’t think that’s really neces–”

“I can’t pee with you here,” you cut him off.

He narrowed his eyes at you but eventually let out a quiet, “Fine, fine,” leaving the bathroom with an exaggerated huff, though he didn’t bother closing the door.

You giggled at his childish behavior, marveling at the man who had once been your friend. Friend.

It wasn’t the right word anymore. Something more significant had blossomed between you, unspoken yet undeniably present.

Once you finished, Heeseung returned to the bathroom and began to bathe you. It was endearing to feel his gentle, careful touch as he cleaned your back, giving you the space to take care of yourself properly.

You helped him wash his hair in return, complaining when he tried to use your expensive shampoo. But you relented when he deployed his infallible tactics: wide, pleading eyes and an exaggerated pout, softly begging, “Please,” in a tone so whiny it was impossible not to laugh.

Your heart ached with love for this man. The one who had once been your friend and, now, the one with whom you had crossed the line.

When you returned to the bedroom, Heeseung had already changed the sheets, leaving the bed fresh and inviting, ready to welcome you back into its warmth.

“Lie down here with me?” You murmured softly.

The sun was already below the horizon, and the air was pleasantly cool. A gentle breeze slipped through the slight gap in the window, rustling the curtains and brushing against your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps

The warmth of your recent shower made you extra sensitive to the chill, and noticing this, Heeseung moved to close the window before settling into the empty space beside you.

It didn’t take long for you to naturally nestle into one another, as though this kind of closeness was second nature. And it was.

You had always been comfortable with affectionate touches – warm hugs and innocent caresses were a constant part of your daily routine, alongside the playful teasing that defined your relationship. But now, something new lingered in the air: a tension, subtle and undeniable, that neither of you seemed brave enough to confront.

It felt as though acknowledging the shift, putting words to the new dynamic between you, might unravel it entirely – like opening Pandora’s box and being swallowed by its consequences. Neither of you knew what “dating” the other would look like, nor could you say for certain that this was even the stage you had reached. The unspoken remained deafeningly loud.

Your heart raced as you melted into the comforting warmth of Heeseung’s embrace. The familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach now mingled with a bittersweet sense of uncertainty about what lay ahead.

Despite that, you were usually the one to take control in slightly uncomfortable situations – like when Heeseung started bringing certain acquaintances into the apartment you shared, one of whom had wandered into your room uninvited, sparking a minor conflict that Heeseung quickly accepted responsibility for.

“If you promise to stop ignoring the elephant in the room, I promise to do the same,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

Heeseung had been waiting for you to speak first. You always did. And that thought made a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. Even after everything, you were still... you.

Always you.

He was afraid, of course, that things might change drastically. There was a gnawing fear that the friendship you shared could crumble in the worst possible way. But in moments like this, when you unconsciously reminded him that no matter what, it was still the two of you, he felt a sense of calm.

“Go on a date with me tomorrow,” he murmured suddenly.

You blinked, caught off guard by his directness. His voice was quiet, a little tentative, but firm enough to make you pause. Even with a slight tremor of apprehension at the thought of stepping into the unknown with him, you nodded.

“Only if it’s not a movie date,” you replied with a light tone.

Heeseung laughed, his chest rising and falling as the sound escaped him, and the sensation of your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his abdomen made him shiver.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured you.

You tilted your head to meet his gaze. The way he looked at you, dripping with unfiltered affection was almost overwhelming in the best way. And you knew, just as he did, that the feelings you held for him were reciprocated in full.

You had crossed the line, yes. But now, together, you were venturing into new territory, ready to claim and navigate this uncharted space in your relationship. And somehow, it didn’t feel so terrifying when you remembered that, no matter what, it was still the two of you against the world.

[orphicsun]

you must be haunting me - ambessa

pairing: fem! servant reader + ambessa medarda

content: 18+ content, sub!reader + dom! ambessa, possessive & rough sex, mentions of various acts (fingering + oral sex + strap on sex + light choking + consensual groping + squirting), power dynamic, NOT a petplay fic but the use of 'pet' is lightly used, i don't play lol so noxia may be inaccurate.

You didn't know what you were signing up for when you took on the job to tend to one of Noxia's most high maintenance generals.

For the most part, Ambessa's relationships with her servants were nothing personal. No matter the gender, they were casually strung along to do her bidding, always willing to please her. Her own affections were limited to entertain herself. If she reciprocated, it was self indulgence. Ambessa may have been selfish, a bit greedy.

You knew of this all too well. The beginning of your relationship was like any other servant-master dynamic. You knew of the vulgarity Ambessa carried within all these situations. You didn't complain when she requested 'perhaps something more than a massage', just to help her take the edge off after an infuriating ordeal amongst others who hold power in Noxia.

It was alluring, the way she captured your interests. You weren't impoverished in any means. You weren't dealt a bad hand or a paycheck away from Noxia's own version of Zaun. You chose to be hers, most likely in contrast to the others who spend their nights in her bed chambers.

You liked staring up at the intricate gold ceiling as you felt her tongue drag up to prod at your clit. The moments in which you got to bury your own face between her heavy thighs, Ambessa's strength leaving you feeling lost in her like a raft in the Pacific was something you admittedly did not wish to ever give up.

On Ambessa's end, you were once a cute girl who took a rare enthusiasm in your sexual relationship with her. Now, you're a curse.

She used to not care what her pets would do when she wasn't thinking with her cunt; now, she finds herself fantasizing about taking you in the most brazen ways during unions amongst Noxia's military. Ambessa pictures it in her head: your cheek against the very mahogany her peers rest their elbows on, your tongue lolled out of your mouth as the ends of her fingers reach the depths of your drooling hole nobody else has dreamed of feeling. The imaginary gift of your ass bent over for her fingers to dig into the meat of it? That does leave Ambessa to think with her cunt.

Ambessa didn't always care. If her sources of entertainment were interested in other affairs in their spare time, as long as they came back clean, it was none her concern. The only thing that mattered was that they were on their bruised knees for her, in front of her when she so demanded and desired, at her beck and call.

Now past the battles scars on her firm abdomen, deep within her stomach lurches with jealousy's ugly appearance. She hasn't quite met her yet, hasn't had the chance to build a tolerance to the green goddess that lurks within her now when she imagines your cunt stuffed with another person's fingers. Her late husband was a good man, but their marriage was one of political needs.

The lack of tolerance to it is why she reacts the way she does.

Ambessa wants to own you and make you stay by her side like an eager little puppy—those soft, saccharine lips she dreams of (waking up to sticky underwear after) wrapping around her clit like it's your honeysuckle and you want each drop of juice, and your nose flush with her dark hairs.

She wants it both ways, too. Ambessa has never been a giver, not thinking about if the people who rubbed her shoulders with care would eventually find a better source of money and leave. It has happened, of course.

With you, she has recently found herself rubbing the tip of her slippery strap against your clit as opposed to just parting your legs with her strength and bottoming out seconds later in hopes that it will keep you satisfied. She doesn't roll over after sex, instead letting her sweaty body lay against yours, a hidden plea behind it all. The less noticeable attempt of tracing the letter 'A' onto your clit is just for her reasons. Branding you with the tip of her tongue, that way you can't dream of finding another to take pleasure in your fuck-me eyes the way she does.

No, she doesn't wish to share you with anyone at all. She should stop herself from imagining turning you around, pinning you against her wall, and fucking you good and well until your fingerprints stain the extortionate wallpaper. She wants to leave her own fingerprints inside your gummy walls for good.

She cannot cease her need to claim you, though.

You arrive late today. You were ordered to swing by her bedroom by 1 p.m, but it is now 1:15. Ambessa reasons with her mind that you could be getting your back blown out by someone else in that time span.

Control is something she values within herself Having patience in any situations, whether it is as minor as your servant running late or in the midst of battle. You have to know how to keep yourself restrained, be responsible, and play your cards right in any situation. Impulsiveness gets people slaughtered like foolish pigs.

So why is it that she lets herself get so carried away with you, marking you up like she is some teenager who lacks self-awareness?

"M-Ma'am, I can explain—" A hand rushes to firmly clamp over your mouth, and your sweet muffles fill her ears.

"Shh, pet. Do you wish to anger me?" Ambessa silences you, breath hot in your ear. She takes a brief pause from her sloppy claiming and loosens her wrapping to hear your answer, your obedience. She craves the reassurance that you're not tainted.

You gasp out for air, willingly pressing your back against her broad chest. The action gives some comfort to Ambessa that you are still hers, but it isn't enough. You're still too hesitant.

"Answer me, will you?" Ambessa growls, one of her hands moving to harshly grope your tit.

It sends a fluttery feeling through your pussy. In reality, you had simply gotten caught up in the crowd on her way to her estate, but the game she offers is like a blanket over your desires—it heats them.

Her leg sneaks between yours, and the feeling of her thigh creating friction with the back of yours creates a wetness that she can probably feel, even through layers of garments. Ambessa lets you feel the firm muscle press against you so snug, so you could grow to want her there, get used to it. After all, she will be between those heavenly thighs of yours all night, maybe well into the morning if she so pleases.

Ambessa flips you around so you're facing her, and you immediately melt into her arms like she is your lifeline. You try to lean closer and feel her lips dominate a kiss, but she grabs your chin before you're able to.

"Did you not hear me? I want an explanation as to why your arrival was so delayed." Ambessa takes you in for a moment—your eyes, wide and so expressive as they stare into hers. You're such an open book; she wants to spread your pages apart and dip into your contents. You don't whine, but the scrunch in your brows belies your need-induced frustration.

"There were a lot of people in the city and-" Ambessa's hand trails down your throat, giving a soft warning squeeze that cuts off your words with a soft, responsive moan. "..I got caught up."

All of Ambessa's irrational fears are quelled. She drops her hand from your throat to pull you closer, and her kiss burns into your lips. Everywhere she touches you is scorching.

Both of you are a tangle of love and limbs, pushing and pulling like magnets. Your lips seek to be love-bitten and overpowered whereas hers part to dive her tongue past yours and show you why you should always need her.

Her mouth is filthy, soft grunts tearing from her throat and resulting in more aggressive kisses. You're an open book, and yet these moments make Ambessa feel an intimacy that even the most vulnerable sex cannot reveal. She feels you responding in time with her, your swollen lips speaking a language she easily understands and adds upon.

In the more vulgar approach, the kiss is sloppy; Ambessa pulls you tongue into your mouth and suckles it in a way that feel more like porn than any hardcore tape.

You weaken Ambessa, you really do. She loses her restraint with her pet so easily. Years and years of success on the battlefield, keeping the Medarda standards raised, and you crash through her building-block tower with ease. She sees the way fabric hugs your hips and she ogles your tits when they're visible to her hungry gaze. She could imagine you in a million sex positions.

But anyone could be so vulgar and not be as affected by a person. It's your lowering inhibitions and the way you wear your pleasure on her face that draw her into what is so vulnerable of territory.

Just like this—she doesn't know how she ended up bringing you down onto her bed, your legs wrapped around her hips as she aimlessly grinds her hips into yours, friction not enough and yet maddening to her.

"I'm going to strip you down, sweet girl," she breathlessly promises. Her hands are hot as they grip the edge of your dress, and she can't pull it over your head fast enough to reveal your soft skin. "You're not to do anything but what I tell you to do."

Ambessa feels all over your body with roughly-textured hands. She teases your nipples through the cutesy cotton bra you're wearing, and you shiver and let out a sweet whine when she traces a path down the center of your navel and dips into your panties.

Almost immediately, she withdraws, leaving your cunt aching and your mouth ready to beg for it.

"Feel yourself. Touch that pretty little cunt of yours and tell me what you feel." She demands.

With a compliant whimper, you hastily shove your hand down your panties. Ambessa feels the imprint it leaves from the outside to make sure she catches any sneaky movements you pull on your own body.

"I'm so wet." And you truly are. Arousal drips down your perineum. Your needy little hole would beg to be filled with something if it could talk. Your lips only glisten with your need, a visual statement, but nonetheless silent.

"You're soaked for me. This pussy of yours loves me. She only weeps for me, doesn't she?" You shamelessly moan in response to her comments. You love the dirty talk.

"Take off your panties." Ambessa orders you. You eagerly peel off the ruined fabric.

Once you're completely exposed to her, she flips you around and handles you until you're on your hands and needs. She yanks your hips back until they're almost fully on her left thigh, but not enough that you're able to grind against the skin.

Ambessa always loves this aspect of the process—how malleable you become. She can twist and turn you in any way she desires all the while keeping your soul intact in the act. Ambessa is your puppeteer, and your cunt is pulled by her strings.

Although Ambessa is one to enjoy the chase and capture of teasing, she is low on her usual patience. A cry of surprise and a response to her invasion releases from your throat when she shoves two fingers into your pussy without warning, harshly thrusting in and out. Her other hand moves to rest on your lower back and press against your body in a show of possession.

She doesn't make an effort to press up into your g-spot or pay attention to your clit, though.

"Ambessa, please!!" She has you crying, needing more. You bury your face into the sheets and your mouth babbles on even though it's all an incoherent, meaningless jumble of words. She has fucked you stupid.

Just when your gummy walls adjust to the harsh fucking your body is enduring, Ambessa thrusts knuckle-deep, pressing into that gooey spot that makes you lose any sense of self control.

Liquid gushes from your hole and drips down your thighs, nature's perversion of a waterfall. Ambessa doesn't stop fucking you until every last drop of cum has left you, though.

You collapse on the bed with a whine from how sore you feel. She strokes your lower back in an offer of comfort, one she doesn't express with most pets.

Not to say she doesn't believe in aftercare, but this feels emotionally charged. This feels like more than what she bargained for. Ambessa has realized how in her head she had gotten. You didn't seem to mind one bit, enthusiastic to it all. It makes her falter, though.

You're her one weakness, and as much as she tries to in these moments, she cannot fully control you.

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[monstersholygrail]

Long ago you had gotten into some trouble with the gods, being the mischievous little Cat Hybrid you are. You had actually managed to trick one of the Gods in a deal. A deal where you ended up earn everything and they ended up looking like a fool. At the time you were astonished and quite prideful. To trick a God was no small feat. But that quickly came to regret your trickery, even if you couldn’t help it.

The Gods decided that the best course of action was to punish you, of course. They couldn’t let you walk free, spreading word you had humiliated one of their own. So they made sure you could only trick mortals by trapping you within the confines of a ‘Hero’s Trial’ that once entered cannot be left. There you’d live for eternity using your wits to mislead heroes intent on proving themselves.

Eventually you lost count of the years you had been stuck within the trail. You were bored and restless. While it was fun tricking silly humans they always ended up dying. So your job became a little bit of a downer. Until he appeared. You didn’t pay him any mind at first. You thought he’d die like all the others. While he intrigued you with his own wit and cleverness, you didn’t have high hopes. The odds not in his favor.

That is until a year later when he returns at the start of your trial. You immediately perk up on the stone gate you rest upon, remembering him immediately. He made enough of an impression for that. You look him over, noticing his weakened stated. Armor torn and barely a weapon in sight. Yet he was returning to do the trial again.

“Why have you returned?” You ask, your tone demanding the truth. The air was knocked out of you as he smiles at you weakly, barely standing from the extent of his injuries. Yet his eyes glittered with adoration.

“To see you, of course,” he replies simply but you find your cheeks still turning red.

The rest of the exchange is a flurry of back-and-forth. The banter and ease in which you two talk is beyond anything you’ve ever experienced. You tricked a damn God! How could a mere human ever manage to keep up with you. But… he did. And as he walked back into the trial you can feel your heart breaking. A deep longing filling you to the brim. With his injuries and lack of protection you’re sure this time he’ll perish. There’s no way, right?

Another year passes with no hope and so much hurt. But butterflies burst in your belly when the day comes that he appears back at the start of your trial. He had somehow survived. He actually did it! With none of the grace your cat hybrid nature demands, you jump off the gate. Your human meets you just past the entrance where you two crash into each other in a fierce embrace.

“You have returned,” you breathe out with relief, your claws digging into his skin in your excitement. It’s then you realize he now has even less armor on than before.

“I’ve come to see you,” your human croaks, his voice tired but just as relieved as your own.

You lean back enough to look at his face, eyes flickering over his rugged features. He looks back at you as if you are the sun and he is the moon destined to forever remain in your orbit. You can’t explain the wave of emotions that wash over you in that moment as he confirms he’s come back to you all over again. You don’t know where to begin explaining how much it means to you. So you stop trying to explain.

As if one mind and one heart, you and your human move in at the same time, your mouths meeting in a passionate kiss. Your hands roaming along each other’s bodies with a familiarity that shouldn’t be there for two people who are only now touching for the first time. Yet it feels as if you’ve done this with him a million times. And you two share a night of passion and ecstasy before he continues off in the trial.

Years pass, one after the other, and every year your human returns to you. Proving to you time and time again the lengths and depths of his devotion to you, a sly Cat Hybrid. You count the years that pass now, not only remaining aware but keenly so. As each time your human returns with a little less armor, a weak weapon he must’ve found somewhere or none at all, his skin a little more wounded, and his mortal body a little older.

As time goes on, you grow more insistent, begging him to stop returning to the start, and still never fully understanding why he’s returned just to see you. Not when it hurts him so. Not when it hurts you to see him struggling while you have no possible way of helping him. You’re trapped to remain at the start, never allowed to go behind or beyond its entrance.

“Please, you must stop this,” you beg one night as the two of you lay under the stars, bare bodies tangled up in each other.

Your hand caresses his chest, right over his heart and his gaze softens. It’s an argument you’ve had time and time again but his patience and understanding with you remains.

“I cannot. How else will I see you?” He asks softly, lifting a hand to brush some of your hair back. You instinctively lean into his hand, nuzzling into him as you begin to purr.

Your eyes flutter shut as his words seep into you. An ache settling over your heart. The weight of his words has you shaking your head. A part of you wanting to be selfish, to keep him with you for as long as possible. But your love for him quickly overpowers it.

“Indeed you cannot. For if you see me again you will surely perish,” you whisper tearfully, your claws lifting to softly caress the forming lines on his face that begin to show his age.

Something akin to heartbreak flashes across his features. But just as soon as it comes it leaves, replaced with his usual understanding. A glimmer in his eye shows he’s close to tears as well. Needing your touch he takes your wandering hand in his, kissing it tenderly.

“Fine… If that is what you wish. Just don’t cry, my love,” he whispers, voice breaking as he speaks.

The two of you move as one, leaning in to fitting your lips together in a searing kiss. Losing yourselves to a needed final night of love and passion. Treasuring each other and the time you’d had. Knowing this will be his last time through the trial.

Another year passes at a snails pace. Never realizing how lonely you had been before meeting your lover. His love and utterly endless devotion changing you to your very core. For the first time in your very long life, the punishment the Gods had given you felt exactly like that… a punishment.

Eventually the leaves begin to turn orange and brown once more. The flicker of excitement inside your chest at the idea your lover would be here soon quickly flutters and dies to a lonely ember. Remembering once again that he was never to come back.

So when you see a strangely familiar form through your blurry tear-filled vision, you swear you must be seeing things or simply dreaming. But a quick swipe to your eyes has reality crashing down on you.

A gasp escaping from your throat to see your love stumbling toward you, clutching his stomach with his hand outlined in red against his tunic. He’s silent for a moment before something gurgles in his throat and he begins to choke.

You scramble off your perch, landing on the ground with a sickening thud. Your heart lies still in your stomach, unable to beat as you try to stand. The two of you rush toward each other just past the entryway to the trial. A strangled cry leaves him as he collapses in your arms and the two of you instantly crumble onto the ground, the leaves scattering around you.

“What are you doing here?!” You scream through broken sobs, frantically wiping away tears so that you may better see him. A rattling wheeze leaves him as he lifts a hand to softly brush the tears from your cheeks.

“I’m here to see you… one… last… time,” he rasps, cupping your cheek and bringing your forehead down to rest against his. The difference between his cold and your warmth is chilling. Unbearable. You can’t take it, you’re very being threatening to fall a part as you feel his final breath ghost across your face. His eyes never once leaving yours.

You throw your head back, letting out a cry mournful enough that it shakes the heavens. You can sense their leering eyes peering down on you. Oh, how they must be relishing in their revenge. Your tongue cannot be stopped as you spout endless curses at them.

Despising them as they must despise you, their punishment finding affect even now. For even if you didn’t mislead and trick your lover within the trial itself. You always tricked him into coming back. You must’ve. Somehow. His devotion too pure, his love too endless to be anything but the result of a trick. It couldn’t be real.

You couldn’t handle losing anything that real.

[ozzgin]

content: gender neutral reader, based on Dredge

You are the town's newest fisherman, following an advert you found in a discarded newspaper. The mayor welcomed you with open arms, yet you could sense the peculiar quietness coming from the rest of the locals.

The lighthouse keeper was the first to clue you in. An old, raggedy woman, she had greeted you in a rather unexpected way: Don't end up like the last one. The waters, she said, harbored monsters beyond your comprehension. You were to do your job and nothing more if you didn't want to succumb to the madness.

Despite the warnings, however, you've somehow never encountered the terrors supposedly lurking the open sea. You've sailed long after sunset, searched the depths of the foggy mangroves, ventured into the narrow passages of the cursed cliffs. There was no colossal serpent, no alien beast whispering forbidden secrets into your ears, no great fish swallowing your humble trawler whole.

That's not to say you haven't witnessed the outcome to these legends. You've stumbled upon fishing boats torn apart by foreign claws, stranded men muttering about a leviathan who will bring forth destruction. You've stared down the basin where every living creature vanishes: enormous tendrils peeking from the depths, faint, glowing eyes observing you with interest.

"Here's the relic you asked for," you say, extending the necklace you dredged out of the dark waters.

The collector inspects it with a smile.

"You haven't encountered any...obstacles, I hope," he suggests.

"None at all. Peaceful as always," you hum, receiving your payment.

With a nod, you leave. The man takes a moment to follow your movements, then turns to an eerie statue decorating his desk; a monstrous creature with many tentacles and eyes alike.

"I still don't get why you've chosen that human," he wonders out loud.

For his Lord to go out of his way, guarding you without rest, ordering the unholy beasts to keep their distance from you...He's certainly never witnessed it before. It almost resembles a doting husband looking after the spouse.

Nonsense. The abyssal fiend would never fall for a mere human like you, most certainly. It couldn't possibly...hmmm. He grimaces at the thought.