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seokgyuu · 5 months ago

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Coming back home for the summer hasn’t been fun in ages. Thankfully, that is just about to change when you lay eyes on Matthew who, according to Taerae, isn’t into older girls. Never backing down from a challenge you decide to approach him anyways - making yourself younger than you actually are and calling Matthew “oppa” more times than probably necessary.

Pairing: Seok Matthew x Fem!Reader

Genre: Comedy, Smut

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Reader is actively lying to Matthew to get into his pants, loads and loads of usage of the word “oppa”, alcohol drinking (idk in what country this universe is, they call each other with honorifics but they kind of are in the states because i made the drinking age 21…. just don’t pay it any mind ok, it’s porn disguised as a funny story) , this work contains adult content! MDNI! Smut warnings under the cut!

Playlist: Hot in Herre - Nelly (you’ll get it), Yeah - Usher, Murder on the Dancefloor - Sophie Ellis-Bextor, Break Your Heart - Taio Cruz, Durch den Monsun - Tokio Hotel

A/N: thank you sm @xscoupsx for the perfect header & divider!!! absolute masterpiece i am still staring at it. finally got this worm out of my brain!!! take this with a grain of salt, it's all fun and giggles. Tags: @cheolism, @the-boy-meets-evil

When you get home that day it’s his number on your phone (that he saved as ‘matthew oppa’ of course) that pops up asking if you made it home safely. It’s Taerae’s number that pops up to let you know he’s blocking you. Giggling, you fall down onto your bed, your slippers hanging off your feet threatening to fall off any second, but instead of caring, you open up instagram. You find him quick and easy, Seok Matthew followed by Gyuvin and Taerae and Hanbin and basically everyone you know in this small town. How come you’ve never seen him before?

Smut warnings: oppa kink, sexting, masturbation (f&m), unprotected sex (booo!), blowjob, cumming in mouth, lmk if i missed anything!

“Forget it. He’s not into older girls.”

Taerae is sipping on his milkshake watching you watch his former classmate and friend Matthew. You’re in the mall in Taerae’s hometown which also happens to be your hometown. You’ve left for college around a year and a half ago and coming back here never truly excites you anymore. Or at least it didn’t use to. Now, looking at the young man outside of Mikey’s Milkshakes handing out flyers with sweat dripping down his temples, you think that just about changed.

“He doesn’t know that I’m older,” you shoot back, sucking on your own straw and enjoying the taste of peanut butter on your tongue.

“You look older, noona.”

A napkin hits Taerae’s forehead. It was you. You threw the napkin. He just chuckles and shakes his head

“No, you don’t get it. Matthew is… weird. Like he has this whole thing where he hates when people call him cute. He gets all upset and tells them he isn’t cute, he’s Woohyun oppa.”

While you do cringe, you also find it quite interesting. You’ve heard of this before - younger guys who didn’t like to be younger. He was Taerae’s age, so freshly 21 and attending the local college with Tae, which meant if anything he would have to go for girls 18 or 19 and, come on, they surely couldn’t please him like you!

“How convenient,” you smile in a way that makes Taerae shiver in something close to fear, “I’ve always wanted to try calling a younger guy oppa.”

“You’re horrible,” Tae comments, shoving his milkshake away from him, “horrible and crazy. He is never going to fall for you being younger.”

“Really? Want to make this interesting then?” The evil grin on your face certainly means nothing but trouble. But it’s summer and this town is boring as hell with nothing ever happening. So, why not? Taerae shakes your hand, betting against you that you, in fact, will not succeed to bed Matthew. It’s not just pride that’s on the line but also free milkshakes for the rest of the summer.

You somehow convince your friend Gyuvin to act like you’re his same age cousin from a different town. As it turns out he also knows Matthew. How does everyone know this guy but you? And why has no one ever mentioned to you how they have an extremely attractive friend who just so happens to have an oppa kink?

It’s honestly a mystery to you how Taerae didn’t think you’d be able to pull off being a 04’ liner. You can pretend to be way younger than you are! You don’t look like you’re twenty-three! Matthew is eating out of your hand by lunch. He listens to you attentively and everytime you call him “oppa” he seems to melt into his chair.

His profile isn’t private which means you didn’t have to follow him to stalk his 103 posts, but you still do. It saddens you that you can’t comment things like “you look so good, oppa” or “woah, that color looks so perfect on you, oppa”, but you digress. Sucking on a popsicle from the freezer, you scroll through his feed, seeing that he definitely hasn’t been this hot for a long time. There is a ringing in your ear and you try to lose it by scratching it. What the hell? Back to Matthew, please! Just last year he looked like a teenager freshly hitting puberty and now? He’s buff and handsome and just thinking about what might be under that shirt makes your thighs press together. Perhaps you have a serious problem because when you spot the highlight saying “gym” with the flexing arm emoji, you are already halfway down with your hand to touch yourself.

His gym pics are a goldmine for your dirty fantasies and thoughts about the man you’re planning to seduce. There is one where he flexes his arm and grinning while winking into the mirror he’s taking the pic in. Then there is the one where he is sitting on the bench press, leaned forward with a half smirk, his tight tank top leaving nothing to the imagination. The shorts he’s wearing make you feel dizzy and as you imagine what his cock would look like and what he would feel like inside of you, you begin to circle your clit with your thumb, throwing your head back as you continue your fantasy. Matthew and you on that bench press, his strong arms holding you down as he fucks into you mercilessly.

A ‘ping’ disrupts your session and you open your eyes, looking down to see he had texted you again. It’s almost comical - you thinking about him fucking you and touching yourself to that thought and him texting you a “it was so nice to meet you” message as if you weren’t thinking about him fucking your brains out.

Sighing, you pull your hand out of your panties, wiping them off on your shorts and decide to text him back.

matthew oppa: it was so nice to meet you

you: you too, oppa <3

matthew oppa: hehe

matthew oppa: so, what are your plans this week?

you: hmm, not much… why?

matthew oppa: oh well, i was wondering if maybe you’d wanna go to a drive in with me?

you: ohh, like watching a movie in a car?

matthew oppa: yeah, exactly!

Now, this is where your current horniness decides to take over. Licking over your lips you sink deeper into your pillows, your slippers completely fallen off now, your legs spreading slightly as you stare at the screen, thinking about how you can make this guy jerk off to you right now without sounding too experienced.

you: well… i would love to see you again, oppa, but…

matthew oppa: but…?

you: my friends… they told me some things about drive ins you know

matthew oppa: huh? what things?

you: uhm… like that when you go to a drive in with a boy… well you know 🙈

matthew oppa: oh

matthew oppa: y/n you don’t have to worry

matthew oppa: i won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, oppa promises

you: that’s nice of you to say, oppa💕

you: but… what if i want something you’re not comfortable with?

matthew oppa: what do you mean?

you: it’s embarrassing 🥺

matthew oppa: you don’t have to be embarrassed with oppa, yn

you: ok if you say so…

you: it’s just that i know we only met today but

you: i just can’t stop thinking about you

matthew oppa: that’s cute

matthew oppa: oppa can’t stop thinking about you too, if that makes you feel better baby

Baby. You bite down on your lip. As much as it makes you cringe it makes your pussy wet, the way he speaks and reacts, how he addresses himself as ‘oppa’. You wonder if maybe your need to get laid is taking over the intelligence you usually inhabit.

you: really? 🥺

matthew oppa: yeah

you: are you also… thinking naughty thoughts, oppa?

matthew oppa: oh

matthew oppa: are you thinking naughty thoughts, baby?

you: idk… 🥺

matthew oppa: you can be honest with oppa, baby, i would never judge you

you: i am thinking naughty thoughts

matthew oppa: like what?

you: saw oppa’s instagram… your gym highlight

matthew oppa: you liked it?

you: a lot 🙈

matthew oppa: how much did you like it, baby?

you: so much that i got all wet… down there

You want to die and at the same time you don’t think you’ve been this wet (down there) in ages. Not the dude from the semester end party who had fucked you in the smallest bathroom known to mankind and most certainly not Jiwoong last summer. You wonder if anyone has ever made you this wet without even physically being present.

matthew oppa: fuck

matthew oppa: you got wet just from my pictures? you like oppa that much?

you: i do… it’s so embarrassing

you: stared at you the whole day today… now i want you to do bad things to me, oppa

matthew oppa: yeah? what do you want me to do?

you: wanna get on my knees for you and have oppa fuck my mouth 🙈

matthew oppa: shit… got my cock so hard from just reading that, baby.

you: does oppa wanna fuck my mouth?

matthew oppa: fuck yeah. your mouth and your wet pussy baby

you: i’m so wet oppa, so wet for you 🥺

matthew oppa: can i call you?

He ends up calling you before you can respond his raspy voice on the other side of the line already telling you he’s getting off. What follows is just the two of you simultaneously masturbating while telling the other dirty things you wanna do to each other. He tells you how he wants to fuck you (his main fantasy seems to be you on all fours and him behind you drilling into you like a sledgehammer) and how you need him to fill you inexperienced pussy.

Obviously you don’t say that, you just hint at it. Matthew wants to be an oppa, he wants someone younger who looks up to him - especially in a sexual way. So, of course you’re gonna lie to him and tell him you’ve only had sex like twice and both times had been five minutes tops and you also had never had a guy make you cum or cum inside of you. All of these are lies. Your body count has gotten to a point of you not even remembering anymore and the amount of plan bs you had taken should probably be illegal. You’re not responsible when it comes to fucking and you are well aware. Matthew, though, doesn’t need to know this.

When he cums with your name on his lips and you cum begging for him to fill you up, you call it a night.

The drive in idea doesn’t come up again. You worry for a day that he might have lost interest. Then, you hear from Gyuvin that the drive in had to close because there was a fire and Matthew has just been swamped with work. You deem that as a good enough reason for him to leave you on read for approximately two seconds before it starts to piss you off. Thankfully, summers in your hometown promise extreme ragers every weekend to which you are sure Matthew will come too. At least you hope he does.

Out of all people, Jiwoong is the one to throw the first big rager of the summer and even knowing that Jiwoong could very easily blow your cover, you decide to go. With your sluttiest little dress and some skimpy underwear on, Taerae only sighs when you get into his car.

“You will give the man a damn heart attack,” he comments as he turns out of your parents driveway. You chuckle.

“Let’s hope that happens after I win that bet against you, Taetae.”

“You truly are a horrible person. Lying to get into someone’s pants? Shouldn’t that be below you?”

“Dramaqueen.” You roll your eyes and pull down the visor to open the small mirror and check your make-up.

“I’m just saying,” Taerae continues as he stops at a traffic light, “watch out. If he finds out you’re lying chances are he’s gonna be mad.”

“Come on. I’ve lived in this town my whole fucking life. If anything it’s kind of his fault for not knowing me.”

It is odd. How he has apparently been in Taerae’s class all this time and neither of you knew each other. But then again, how were you supposed to know everyone? You don’t see Taerae looking at you with the biggest side eye. And even if you had, you probably wouldn’t have cared.

Jiwoongs house is huge. His parents are both lawyers or whatever and you remember vividly how one of Jiwoong’s friends wanted to hit on you, some small unremarkable guy you had already forgotten the name of, and how Jiwoong saved you from him, getting your pussy as a thank you. In his parent’s room. You wonder if they ever found out.

There is already loud music playing when you get to the house, Tae parking his car in the last available spot on the street. Getting out, you try your best not to flash the people walking past you and Tae chuckles when you land on your heels a little shaky. You decide to ignore him and just start walking towards the door, him right behind you. Right at the entrance you already spot Gyuvin with Ricky and Gunwook and you raise your brows when you spot a red cup on the latter’s hand.

“It’s coke, noona, I swear!” He says the second you reach him, showing off the contents of his cup by tilting it slightly. Clicking your tongue you nod in approval, moving on to the other two.

“Technically,” Gyuvin says, his own cup suspiciously close to his chest and far away from your glaring eyes, “you are the same age as us tonight, so…,” he seriously tries to talk him out of this. You put your hands on your hips and look at him, Ricky, his cup, Ricky’s cup. The two share a gaze before sighing and finally handing the cups to you. You smile triumphantly.

“Very good. Thank you, boys.”

“Aaaand these are for me, thank you very much,” a voice startles you, taking the two cups from your hands. Your look to your right and see Taerae grinning widely.

“What? If they are underage, so are you, bestie.”

Waving with his occupied hands, Tae goes inside humming along to the music. You groan and roll your eyes, knowing full well you did this to yourself but also hating Taerae because this was obviously all his fault.

“Now, now. We can all have a wonderful time without alcohol!” Gunwook smiles widely and if he wasn’t so adorable you might have punched him in the stomach. Instead, you just sigh once more and walk into the house, leaving the three boys behind.

Inside, there is a big crowd of people gathered in the spacey living room and your eyes are already scanning your surroundings for Matthew. While you really want him to fuck you (like so much you literally thought about not wearing any panties just for him. Then you put on your dress and realized there was no way in hell), you also need to stay in character. You are innocent, shy, a young girl who needs her oppa to show her the ropes. Perhaps, you are even a little insecure because he left you on read for two days, who knows?

It doesn’t take long to spot him. And when you do, you are suddenly thankful Tae took the cups away from you because you for sure would have dropped them. It’s almost comical that Nelly’s “Hot in Herre”starts playing right this second.

Matthew has his hair styled up, a few strands falling into his forehead, his face so perfectly on display you want to place kisses all over it. And as if that wasn’t enough, there is a white sleeveless shirt on his muscular body that lets everyone know he is buff and proud of it.

Fuck. You need him. Like, right now.

No one has ever looked that fucking delicious, you decide. He is the yummiest person on this planet and you’re gonna have him.

For a few moments, you only watch him. Watch how he talks to someone you don’t know, how he nips at his cup, how he laughs at a joke. It’s a miracle you haven’t started drooling. People keep on walking around you and only when one nearly runs you over, you decide to move closer to Matthew. So far, he hasn’t seen you.

Biting down on your lip, you wonder how you could best catch his attention without going right over to him. The solution presents itself in the form of Hanbin standing leaned against the wall with a cup in one and his phone in the other hand.

Showtime. You grin to yourself. Then, you get into character.

“Hanbin oppa!” You squeal, loud enough for Matthew and the girl he is talking to hear. And when Matthew sees you, sees the way you beam at Hanbin, he feels a sting in his pride. His eyes burn into you, making you feel hot all over.

Hanbin, on the other hand, is more than confused. Mainly because you’re older than him and just called him oppa.

“Uh, what?”

“Play along, or you’re dead,” you say with the same enthusiastic beam as before, your voice lowered for only Hanbin to hear. He clears his throat and nods. He knows not to mess with you and your antics.

“S-sure, uhm, whats up?”

“Trying to make Matthew think I wanna fuck you instead of him,” you laugh loudly, as if he had said something funny, your left hand slightly hitting his shoulder, while the other twirls a strand of hair around your finger. Hanbin’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Right, Tae mentioned you were doing that.” He shoves his phone into the back pocket of his jeans and watches you with his brows still raised.

“Don’t judge me, Sung Hanbin. I remember very well how you tried to get with Katie last summer and literally told her your dad invented fucking Microsoft.”

“Is it my fault she didn’t know Bill Gates?” Hanbin defends himself right away and you chuckle.

“No. Is it my fault Matthew’s into younger girls?”

Hanbin stays silent for a beat, the song now changing to Usher’s “Yeah” and you wonder what decade you’re in.

“Fair point. But then again I’m just confused becau-,”

“Y/N!”

An arm is wrapped around your waist the next second, an arm you’ve been fantasizing over for days now.

“Oppa, hi,” your eyes are basically hearts staring up at him. Hanbin thinks he’s very likely stuck in a simulation.

“Hyung,” Matthew smiles at Hanbin, but even someone blind could have figured out it wasn’t an actual smile, “I think Hao hyung is looking for you. Better go check on him, yeah?”

Hao hyung definitely isn’t looking for him. Hao hyung is upstairs with a cute boy and a cute girl and Hanbin is well aware. Taking this as his leave, he nods at both of you and leaves you to your idiotic game.

“Hey,” Matthew now looks at you, eyes softening only slightly.

“Hi,” you repeat yourself, biting down on your lip.

“I was hoping to see you here.”

He moves closer to you, your back hitting the wall and his other hand tugging a loose hair behind your ear.

“Did you? I thought maybe you weren’t interested anymore after we, you know….” You truly deserve an Oscar for the performance you’re giving. Matthew licks over his lips.

“After you came so good for me on the phone, you mean?” His eyes bore into yours and your panties are seemingly swimming away.

“I- I, yes, after that.”

“Of course oppa is still interested, baby. Oppa just had a lot of work, oppa is sorry.”

He leans closer to you, both hands now on your waist and you can feel the growing tension.

“Oppa..,” you whimper when he is right there, so close to kiss you.

“Oppa has been thinking about you and your tight pussy all week, will you let Oppa fuck her?”

You moan when his hands creep around and squeeze your ass.

“W-We didn’t even r-really talk!” You cry after, but Matthew just chuckles, his lips hovering over your own.

“We can still talk after, doll. Now I desperately need to sink my cock into you, ‘am already so fucking hard.”

And then he kisses you. Kisses you hard and so full of lust and desperation your knees give in. He pulls you closer against him and you can feel he didn’t lie. He is hard. You decide not to give it too much thought as of why.

Instead, you part from him, breathlessly and grab his hand to take him to the one room you know for sure won’t be occupied.

Matthew’s hands are all over you. Groping your boobs one second, then they are back on your ass, all while Murder On the Dancefloor blasts through the house. Desperation radiates off of him and you bathe in it. Bathe in the way he drags your dress up and touches every second of skin he frees. His lips chase yours in haste and you wrap your arms around his neck, letting him push you towards the large bed in the center of the room.

“Shit, you’re so hot,” he whispers against your lips and you suck his tongue into your mouth as a response. You know he’s already hard. Can feel it when you press your hand against his crotch. He moans and kisses you harder, tongue continuously slapping against yours like he needs to prove a point.

Your back hits the bed seconds later, his thigh pressed between yours against your clothed cunt that’s already throbbing with want.

“Want you so bad, oppa,” you cry out, hands fumbling with that god forsaken muscle shirt that has got your pussy wet the second you spotted him in it. He rips off his body the next second and you sigh in absolute bliss. Immediately, you move to touch his toned torso, his defined abs, his perfect shoulders. Fuck, he is incredibly hot.

“Yeah? Want oppa to fuck you, hm?” His voice is deep and raspy against your ear and you nod rapidly, moving your hips against his thigh. Matthew chuckles, hands back to squeeze your tits, causing you to arch your back against him. His touch feels intoxicating, already got you addicted. It’s the way he is still oh so desperate for you. His kisses are sloppy and his cock is hard against you, his hips moving for any kind of friction. A part of you wants to take your sweet time with him, put him in your mouth, have him come undone on your tongue. Work him so long until he can fuck you for real. But there is a party downstairs and people will eventually notice you’re gone.

“Put it in me, oppa, please, please, please.”

He groans at your begging, his head nodding as if in trance, quickly ridding you of your panties and himself of his pants. You watch with a heaving chest how he doesn’t even fully shove his jeans and briefs down his legs, how they pool there at his ankles as he gets on his knees and flips you over. You gasp in surprise, another enormous wave of lust overcoming you when he pulls you up, your ass in the air, the perfect position for him to fuck you like he wanted to.

Matthew is surprised he isn’t foaming at the mouth with you in front of him like this. His eyes are glued to your glistening pussy, his cock hard against his stomach. Grabbing his cock, he jerks himself off a few times before guiding himself to your entrance - only to stop just before he breaches you.

“Shit, I don’t have a condom,” he curses. You look back at him.

“Just pull out, Matthew, please.”

In your impatience you forgot to call him “oppa”. For a second you’re worried but he is too distracted by you wanting him to fuck you raw he doesn’t even notice the missing honorific.

Without any more hesitation, he finally sinks into you, his thick head stretching you out just the way you hoped it would. Your fingers grab the bedsheets, eyes falling shut as you get used to the way he feels, inch by inch. And, shit, does he feel good.

Matthew is scared he’ll come right away when he bottoms out. His cock has never felt more comfortable inside anyone before. Almost as if he was made to fuck you and only you. Thankfully, he doesn’t immediately shoot his load and instead begins to move. And really, he tried to start slow and steady, he really did. But he’s just a horny dude, in the end. His thrusts are rapid and hard and you feel like you’re high. Your thoughts are empty, there is only him and the way he fucks you like an animal. All you feel is your rising orgasm, your pussy squeezing him over and over, your moans getting louder and louder. Matthew isn’t quiet either - both of you seem like you’re harmonising as he fucks you from behind with gluttal moans escaping him every few seconds. His eyes are rolled back and his hands are around your waist, holding you so hard you’re sure there will be marks later on. You are more than ready to welcome them.

“You- You take oppa’s cock so fucking well, fuck,” Matthew is so close to finishing, you can feel it.

“Oppa fucks me so good! Don’t stop!” You push your hips against him and he gifts you another one of his melodic moans that have you gushing over his cock. He curses under his breath.

“Yeah, I can feel how much you like oppa fucking you, such a naughty girl, aren’t you?” His nails dig into your skin and you cry out, his dirty words doing exactly what they are supposed to: bring you close to the edge.

“Ngh- Oppa! Gonna c-cum!” Your mouth hangs open, drool landing on Jiwoong’s parent’s bed. Matthew’s head is spinning and he does his best to keep fucking you exactly like this. He wants you to cum before he does, wants you to cum on his cock, wants to feel you squeeze and clench around him. Wants your release to be the finishing touches for his.

And when he leans slightly forward, his arm creeping around you to press his thumb to your clit, you can feel the knot tighten and finally explode.

You’re cumming hard around his cock, vibrating around him with nothing but utter pleasure. You keep calling for him, tell him to keep going, to fuck you through your orgasm and he manages to pull out of you just when you deem yourself satisfied. Quickly, he jerks himself off, ready to finish on your ass, when suddenly you are right there, your mouth around his tip, catching his spurts of cum that shoot out the second he feels your lips around him.

“O-oh, f-fuck! Yeah, t-take all of oppas cum! Fuuuuck!” He pushes you further down his cock, nose in his neatly trimmed pubic hair, more and more strings of his cum gushing down your throat. You swallow every last bit, even lick him clean when he pulls you back, his eyes meeting yours.

“That was insane,” he says, helping you sit up fully. You grin and pull him down into a kiss he is more than happy to return.

With your clothes back where they belong, the two of you walk out of Jiwoong’s parents room only to run into… Jiwoong. A mad Jiwoong. Who has a girl with him. A girl who looks more spooked than she should considering she came up here with Jiwoong for probably the same reason as you and Matthew did.

“Oh, hey!” You chirp and Jiwoong looks from you to Matthew and back.

“”Oh, hey”? Are you fucking with me?”

“Pretty sure I was just fucking with him, oppa,” you counter, thumb pointing over your shoulder and at Matthew who awkwardly lifts his hand in a wave. Jiwoong groans.

“Would you give us a second?” He says to the girl and the girl rolls her eyes but finally nods, making her way down the hallway and back downstairs, where Taio Cruz’s Break You Heart is most definitely making the people lose their shit on the dancefloor.

“Yo, hyung, sorry, I know this is your parents room and all, but-,”

Jiwoong raises his hand and Matthew stops speaking.

“Frankly, I don’t give a fuck, thank you very much. I am more interested in what the fuck this is.”

He points between you and Matthew and the two of you share a look.

“What- what do you mean?” You ask, continuing to play innocent.

Jiwoong blinks.

“Are you- are you for real?”

With being so focused on not understanding what the fuck Jiwoong is on about, you fail to see Matthew using his hands to gesture to Jiwoong to stop talking!

“Jiwoong oppa, what is your problem?” You ask, crossing your arms.

“My- what my problem is? Jesus, Y/N, just last summer you turned Matty down and instead went to fuck me and now this?”

“What are you talking about, what Matty, wha-,”

Matty. Matt…y… Matt….hew. Oh.

You remember. Remember the friend that had hit on you, the small unremarkable guy that you couldn’t even remember the name of when you tried. You hadn’t been mean to him, just politely said no and while he did take it as an answer, he still tried to make conversation. Matty.

Slowly, you turn to Matthew, your mouth hanging slightly open. He is red as a beet and one of his hands is rubbing his neck awkwardly.

“You- you are Matty?” You ask. After another beat of silence (not really silence considering there was still a party going on) he nods.

“Yes, that would be me.”

You are dumbfounded. Flabbergasted. In shock. Your arm flies to Jiwoong’s shoulder to hold yourself steady.

“But you are- you are so-,”

“You told me you saw the gym pics, didn’t you?”

Oh yeah, you did.

“You know I am not younger than you?”

“Younger than him, wha-,” Jiwoong chimes in, but neither you nor Matthew pay him any mind.

“Yup.” He pops the “p” at the end and you feel like you’re about to faint.

“So… everyone knows…. you know?”

“Yup,” he repeats.

They are playing fucking Tokio Hotel downstairs now.

“Right. Right, sure. That- uh, my bad.” You stand up straight again, letting your hands run over your dress.

“Noona-,” Matthew starts, but you hold up your hand.

“Let’s not. I need to let this sink in.”

You walk down the stairs and of course Taerae is leaning against the frame of the big arch, grinning from ear to ear. There is no way of knowing how he even fucking knows what just happened, but he does. When you finally get your hands on your first drink of the night, you are sure the bet was all part of the plan you were so kindly left out of.

Later, when you spot Matthew with Hanbin and Gyuvin and your eyes meet, you tip your cup at him. Well played.

“If it makes you feel better, he probably would have had you call him oppa during sex anyways,” Ricky says from next to you and you close your eyes.

This is going to be a long summer.

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sk3tch404 · 7 months ago

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Late Night Hanma Blurb

A/n: Thought abt this during an itty-bitty road trip today. Smoker Hanma does smth to the chemicals in my brain. Forgive me for any lengthy bad writing. I've had a long day and I just wanna yip yap about one of my fav crazies 🙇

CW: Hanma can give two shits about your lung health but chooses not to when he feels like it, intimidation, threats of forced drug usage, sometimes forced participation in violent activities, thoughts of lovers suicide/murder(?), and whatever other yappin I put in here.

Hanma who smokes a fuck ton and doesn't mind giving you the good ol' second-hand effects of it, but absolutely detests you doing it on your own.

He snatches the stick from your mouth and holds it up and away from you with a small grit in his teeth. Hanma glares down in some curiosity but clearly squints in irritation.

"The hell is this? Don't tell me I'm being a bad influence on you now. If I catch you with one of these again, I won't let you off the hook so easily. You got it, Y/n?"

When you retort, telling him it's no different from when he does it and it is your own choice whether he likes it or not, he merely scoffs with a tilt of his narrow head. Throwing down the cigarette, the sound of his sneaker stomping and scraping it out against the pavement echos through the air with an annoying presence. Shuji demands the rest of your stash with a looming stare that can only put you into a state of sinking discimfort.

"Come on, don't be stubborn. Ya know, if you wanna do it so bad, why don't you try the whole pack? Mine too since it's a shitload better than that cheap stuff."

Reluctant on suffocation and early lung cancer, you begrudgingly hand over your smokes to him. Hanma smacks down on the box with an evidently loud shot of noise and slides it out of your palm--- pocketing it. He stretches out narrow smile as he leans down towards you.

"See, now it ain't so hard to listen."

He's still ticked off by the fact you think you can do whatever to your body without his permission, but since Shuji is so generous, he'll let you learn from your mistakes. See, he can be nice.

Don't test him though. Next time you're caught defying his selfish wishes, he's beating you down with degrading language and probably also beating whoever was involved. The convenience store employee that sold you the cigs, vape, or maybe even chewing tobacco? Yeah he's taking out his held back frustration on them. Bro is jumping over the counter and tearing their shit up.

Avoiding him because of his brutal and honest-to-God psychopathic personality? Now that's just cruel. Shuji is dragging your ass by the back of your shirt and pushes you to his motorcycle. The leopard print on the back of the bike makes you wanna barf every time you see it, but you got to keep it down if you wanna have enough energy to deal with him. He'll take you out no matter where you are at in that point of time and make you remember who he is; who you think you're messing with.

"Y/n, how many times do I have to tell you? Aim for the nose. That's easy for amateurs like you. Actually, lemme show you how to really deliver a jaw breaker-"

Yeah, he'll show you just how bad it can get with some random thugs on the street. You should be grateful with how gentle he's treating you. Instead of ending up with facial fractures, you have nice dates and thoughtful gifts. He's even teaching you a few tricks. How lucky can you get?

"I'm all done. Shit, I'm starved. Let's go grab a bite to eat, kay?"

Hanma thinks the only way you'll ever keep paying attention to him is if he keeps you and your actions in line. If you go off doing your own thing, his usually unmoving heart can't just stand there and watch you slowly leave him. Despite the negativity be brings into your life, he actually gets really fuckin anxious when he doesn't know or understand what you're doing. It's so troublesome how you make him feel. Yeah, being bored as shit is bad, but seeing you, the only thing that could ever bring him down to his knees unwillingly, slip away with nothing but disdain for him? Fuck no. He won't accept it. Shuji would rather kill you and then himself than have to bear the strange feeling of pain, or what other people call heartbreak, by his lonesome self.

Should he ever say he loves you, that would be the point of no return for the both of you. His hands have you tight in his clutches. No way out, no way back in for anyone else.

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valentoru · 4 months ago

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|| Limitless ||

[PROLOGUE.]

SYNOPSIS: Gojo Satoru, a big time artist, who’s known for leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake wherever he goes. And you, the lead guitarist of an upcoming band, who’s absolutely certain that no one will ever love you. Through an accident in which you happened to kiss Gojo in a frantic state, you both decide, via convenience alone—and zero regard for both of your managers—to pull a fake dating stunt what could go wrong? Any press is good press…right?

PROLOGUE : MASTERLIST : NEXT

If you were being honest, you had been in the fence about this whole band thing to begin with. Not because you didn’t like music, or couldn’t play any instruments—you definitely could. In fact, music was your thing—but rather you didn’t want to do it because of the press. They always said any press is good press, but is it really? Their opinions mattered to you, no matter what anyone said, putting yourself of a pedestal was rather daunting.

The idea of being at the forefront of media all the time shook you to your very core, yet when you’re friends came to you, with the “brilliant” idea of starting a band you, found yourself slapping on an far too fake grin and agreeing.

But that same night it had all hit you like a 16 wheeler, you would be put in the spotlight, every move would be deeply analysed yet now you had no choice, and backing out wasn’t in the question. Luckily for you though things hadn’t really taken off.

Well, that was until a few years down the line, you had had one big hit and that was it, everything did a tenfold from there.

But it all seemed to feel a bit better, understandable, after The Night.

The Night when you met The Guy.

The Guy who’s name you never actually got.

The Guy who—as you haphazardly stumbled through foggy eyes into an, or what you thought was, empty room—quickly asked you, “out of curiosity, is there a reason why you’re in this office?”

You squeaked. You tried you best to make out who it was, but you couldn’t really tell. The dark lighting of the room made his hair appear blonde, maybe even sandy-brown and he was tall. He was really tall. And his voice was deep, strong, dreamy. And that’s it. That’s all you could tell.

“Is this not a bathroom?”

“Nope.” It was precise, the way the “p” popped out of his mouth, perfectly.

“Oh. Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Fairly, since when I came in here there was no indication it was, and since being in here I doubt they’ve installed a toilet and plumbing.” Well, the man had a point.

“Oh I’m sorry you—you were probably doing something.” You gestured vaguely to where the desk was, or where you thought it was at least.

“Yes, I was, are you okay?”

“Yes, why?”

“The fact you came into this office crying looking rather frantic.”

This man really had to stop talking like he was Gojo Satoru himself. After all, this was Gojos house you were in, yet you were sure this man can’t have been Gojo, though you wouldn’t know, you only had pictures to go off, besides you and Gojo had never met before which is why when the whole band was invited to this party you were positively baffled.

“Not crying, actually,” a lie. “they’re just tears, not sad tears. You know?” Another lie. A contractor had just told you, you and your band would never make it. And while, you knew he wasn’t right, and you wanted to believe he wasn’t right you still found your eyes prickling with tears. The tears that threated to fall down your face, sloppy and messy, felt like small little rocks, or gravel had been lodged into your eye lids. That was probably thanks to the slightly expired contacts you were sporting tonight.

“I do not.”

You sighed, slumping back against the door. “It’s my contacts, they expired a little bit ago. There weren’t ever that good to begin with, and I did take them out for a while but, I need them to see.”

“Expired? You put in expired contacts.” His voice seemed to go up just an octave as though he was personally offended by that statement.

“Yeah, the stinging will go away soon.”

“Oh so you’ve done this before?”

“Yeah.”

“How long have they been expired.”

“I dunno, a couple years?”

“A couple years? They expired longer than a year ago?”

“Expiration dates are for the weak.” You heard a small laugh, though was it really small? The man was massive. Any sound he made was loud, rumbling deep in his chest.

“Why didn’t you get new?”

“Contacts are expensive.”

“So are eyes.”

Once again, he had a point.

The breath he let out was shaky, as though he was trying his best to compose himself.

“Have we met?” You quickly asked, filling the awkward silence which seemed to attempt to throw itself over you.

“No.”

“Oh. Were you at the last contractor party?”

“Nah. Not really my scene.”

“Oh? But the free food?”

“Yeah, wasn’t worth the mingling.”

Oh you had him placed easily. He must be one of those, the ones who got everything handed to him on a silver spoon. No one, who seemed to be like you—an upcoming musician— would turn down free food. After all, it’s not like it pays a good penny to be unknown. Though that was all changing recently, after the band had a big hitting single release.

“Oh, so you must be pretty popular then?”

“Nah, I wouldn’t say that.”

“Well why turn down free food.”

“I guess you have a point.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek closing your eyes tightly again to dull the pain. It would be useful if you could see the man in front of you.

“How long have you been in the business?” The question was very hit and miss. Some people took deep offence to questions like this, you still had no idea why. You sucked in a quick breath.

“Seven years, give or take.”

“Oh.” You exhaled all too quickly.

“Why’d you ask?”

“Just curious, really.”

“Ah, okay.”

That awkward silence began to creep back into the room. Wedging between you and The Guy.

“So,” this time he was the first to break it, “why do you want to be a musician?”

A dumbfounded “Huh?” Was all you could say, and judging by the stifled laugh that threatened to pass his lips, your facial expression couldn’t have been any better.

The question wasn’t hard to answer. You’d answered it lots of times with ease, but for whatever reason this time, it felt loaded. Loaded and heavy. Like this one question alone was rivalling your whole entire existence.

“Well?” He pried.

To be honest, you answer to this question had always been a light hearted “because it’s cool.” Or “because I want to be rich.” and then it be done, moving swiftly past the question, but as you’d quickly realised, this wasn’t like that. No, this question had so much weight to it, it felt like a sucker punch to the face.

“I guess, I always found myself—” you took a deep breath—were you really going to be honest with a guy you’d only just met?— seems like it. “Well, that’s probably not the way to phrase it, what I mean is I always promised my mom I would make something of myself, and I’m going to do that I guess it’s just a bonus I get to do that with my friends.”

“Oh so you’re in a Band?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.”

For whatever reason you felt your face warming at this. When did you ever seek validation off of strangers?

The silence he was giving you almost felt like ridicule of some sort and you couldn’t help but prod at the answer you had already given. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think that being in the eye is something to take lightly. I really don’t. It’s just that, well, I guess influential people these days aren’t trust worthy, almost like they do it on purpose getting people, kids, to believe in them then do something problematic. It’s dream shattering, you know? I just want to be someone people can actually depend on.” You let out a shaky breath, nodding your head. Fully satisfied with your own answer.

Yet, he still remained silent.

You couldn’t help but prod again, quickly opening your mouth. “Do you—”

“Really? And you’re sure you can remain credible?”

Did it suddenly get hot in here or what?

His interrogation had your gripping, fighting, begging for the cracks of insecurity to not show through, for the flood gates to not break.

“Yes. I do. It’s something I needed as a kid, now, I’m older and wiser to know, no kid should grow up without an idol, someone who shapes them so meticulously, so carefully, who genuinely is a good person.” You retorted maybe all too quickly. Your answer genuine under his penalising gaze, which you still couldn’t see, but could only feel. “What do you think thats not a good reason to be in this industry?”

“No, it’s a perfect one.”

TAGLIST(14/50): @bbmsxlene @lunavelha @satoryaa @tranzumaki @k-kkiana @luvkvni @lysaray @kalulakunundrum @arysbruv @shuuji71 @stillnotherapy @catobsessedlady @colortheoryrocks @minzxec

#⤷limitless #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smau #gojo x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smau #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #nobara kugisaki #megumi fushiguro #maki zenin

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everythingmp3 · 5 months ago

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my angel, my sin

adult!Van x fem!reader

after nearly three decades of being together, Van has accepted that things aren’t going to change for her and Tai, resigned to the fact that there is no point in fighting their doomed fate. that is until she meets you.

authors note: I did something a little different with this one bc I wanted to explore a taivan fail marriage (love them both but they would be insane as wives) and what might happen if someone else entered the picture, so there’s a good amount of plot. also I’ll be real, I was kinda into the idea of pillow princess Van while writing this, so yeah. I really hope you like it <3

warnings: minors dni. infidelity, smut (oral, reader giving)

word count: 10k

there is safety in a cage. there is safety in being locked in, being constrained and unfree in your movement, there is a convenient lack of choice and no need for bravery when you submit to your circumstances, when you let the days pass you by without changing a single thing, without breaking out of what is known to you, without ever fighting for more.

something along those lines was a way of explaining why Tai and Van had stayed together for over 25 years, even when they were close to going insane together.

after getting rescued and eventually starting college, there had been numerous discussions about breaking up, about moving on, they had tried “taking a break” but it was only a matter of weeks until they got back together, slightly ashamed of their inability to live as “Tai” and “Van” instead of “Tai and Van”. it was physical, the terror they felt when they were separated, they had spent about 19 months attached at the hip, literally tied together in their sleep, so once they were free to be out in the world on their own, free to explore their desires and fantasies, everything in them told them that it was too dangerous, to sever the bond that had kept them alive out there. their relationship had been a central part of their survival, so it would have required a strength that neither of them possessed at the time: to brave through both severe and ptsd and the deep pain that their separation would have come with.

the first few years were fine, good even, they were long-distance during college, which gave them a decent amount of independence, it made it easy to avoid fights, to focus on the beautiful parts of their relationship, but once they both graduated, there was no reason not to move in together, so they did, quickly aware of just how different their ideas of a good life were, making compromises left and right that always left a bitter taste, that made them wish they could have just had the guts to go out and find new partners, ones that they could actually see eye to eye with. they married in their early thirties, once everyone around them started doing it, because not getting married would have been an admission, it would have signaled that there was a part of them that was not entirely enthusiastic about the word “forever” and if Tai and Van were one thing, it was stubborn, so they tied the knot, a fucked up irony to that symbol that did not escape them.

their stubbornness was apparent in the shared refusal to show weakness, to admit that they were unsatisfied, to throw the towel and say “I can´t do this anymore, I´m leaving”, to just be honest with each other and say it: that they were tired and needed more from life, from love, from everything. neither of them were to blame and both of them were, so naturally, they ran in circles during every single argument, never reaching any kind of resolution.

their deep codependency and complete lack of identity outside of their union made it so that they powered through many years of marriage without giving into the idea of “maybe, just maybe, we could try being friends while we figure out who were are on our own?”. it sounded so simple in theory but it was anything but that in practice, the plain truth of it was that they were scared, even at that age, even thought over ten years had passed, there was still that deep fear that struck them at their core whenever they imagined living on their own and the thing that made it even worse was that nobody understood their unique situation because no other married couple had the baggage of having lived through horrors in the woods together as teenage girls. nobody else could have given them advice that they´d considered helpful because nobody was able to understand just how riddled with hyper-complex feelings their relationship was. there was no example for them to follow, no couple to ask for guidance, so over time, they truly felt like they were stuck with each other in a sphere that nobody else could reach, not unlike some of the feelings they’d had in the woods, and it made a nasty resentment fester in each of them, that feeling of entrapment, of seeing no way out. it wore them out, the constant awareness that true loving companionship was not supposed to feel like bone-crushing work.

they did have their good moments, even amidst all the chaos, even twenty years in, every once in a while they spent a Sunday morning having a late breakfast, joking around laughing the way exact way they had when they were girls, sometimes they still watched films together and made snarky comments all the way through, every once in a while they found themselves in the dark, reaching for each other, not talking about it the next day, the way they´d clung to each other in the night, the way they´d monetarily slipped back into the familiar rhythm of their intimacy. still, over the years those moments had gotten less and less frequent. once they reached 40, they thought it might be time to be mature about it and try couple´s therapy, but one awful session was enough for them to vow to never return, leaving their therapist with a migraine and themselves with even more frustration to swallow.

at that point in their life they were tired of fighting, they were tired of the drama and tired of the mess, so they fell into a routine, one where they were cordial with each other, one that was closer to a roommate situation than a marriage situation. sometimes a routine like that works so well, so neatly, so perfectly, that it eventually leads to a quiet death of the soul, unless there is a sudden shift, a rupture.

in Van´s case, you were that rupture.

during your first year of college, you´d gotten lucky enough to find a group of friends that were looking for a new roommate in a house that was situated in one of the nicer parts of town, a residential area that students usually couldn´t afford, one of them had family in real estate, so you took her up on the generous offer and moved in that fall.

you´d never been the type to to spend much time talking to neighbors, but once you were aware that you lived next to a married lesbian couple, your interest was piqued. your roomates told you that they mostly talked to Van because Tai was sort of a workaholic, something about politics, which meant that you weren´t surprised when you ran into Van on her own shortly after you moved in, an evening where you both happened to come home at the same time.

in your memory, those first few minutes of getting to know each other hadn´t been anything extraordinary. you told her what you were doing in college, she told you about her job, you exchanged a few basic facts about yourselves, nothing too exciting, but in her memory, that had already been the beginning of what was inevitably going to happen down the line. you hadn´t been aware of this but she´d had a rough day and the way you talked to her was different from the way other strangers usually did: you never broke eye contact, you gave her your full undivided attention even though you were just doing a bit of small-talk, a sweet smile and bright eyes as you listened to her, and to someone as lonely and starved for connection as Van was at that time, having someone´s full attention like that was nothing short of exhilarating. you left that interaction wanting to know much more about her, she seemed intriguing, slightly mysterious to you, something told you that there was a lot behind those eyes, and on a surface level, she was also strikingly attractive, so you found yourself hoping it wouldn´t stay at that brief encounter with her.

neither of you had the words for it at the time, but there was an instant feeling of familiarity between you during your initial few run-ins, an ease when you laughed about something that the other person said, an honesty to your exchange that felt refreshing, like you didn´t have to to polite chit-chat but could actually put your cards on the table and be real, which made it impossible not to seek each other out again.

Van worked from home a few days a week and you only had about 10 contact hours at uni, so naturally, you saw each other again and again the following weeks, each time a little too excited, a little too eager, a little too willing to brave through wind and weather just to stay outside and talk for a while longer. one time your roommate saw you standing there and asked you when you came in what you´d been discussing with her, and you couldn´t for the life of you summarize the amount of topics you´d quickly switched between, the natural flow of your exchange that reminded you of the way you talked with close friends.

without even realizing, your conversations turned from being a few minutes long into being fifteen minutes long, to half an hour of standing in the driveway and forgetting about the time, you chastising her for calling herself a film expert without ever having seen any of the cult classics released after the year 2000, telling her which ones to catch up on asap, which was a welcome excuse for her to start another conversation with you once she´d seen them and could tell you all of her thoughts. part of the appeal of talking to you was that you were so willing to spill details about your life to her: petty grievances you had with some of your professors, drama you´d overheard in the living room the night before, frustrating phone calls with your parents she could sympathize with as someone who’d had a fair amount of fights with her mother as a student. she loved having her mind taken off her own issues by listening to you, your funny way of putting certain things, your youthfulness, it brought out a humor in her that she´d thought of as long lost, and it charmed you, the fact that she was able to keep up, that she knew how to make you laugh, genuinely.

she knew that she was getting herself into trouble during those weeks, she knew it, whenever you sat down with her on their front porch for a moment, whenever she felt a sting of jealousy at the mention of a girl in your life, or caught a glimpse of you sunbathing in the garden from their bedroom window, she could feel it, something way too intense bubbling beneath the surface, a pull towards you that was getting harder and harder to fight back against.

you didn´t know this but there was one specific reason why she could not stop thinking about you, why she was haunted by all of your interactions: your way of toeing the line between a tone that could be interpreted as both friendly or flirty. you hit the mark right in the middle, every single time, you were subtle with your flirting, and it made her turn the things you said to her and how you said them over in her head many times, part of her thinking “don´t be so self-absorbed, she´s just being kind” another part of her thinking “don´t be so oblivious, she clearly has a thing for you”.

during those first weeks of knowing each other you never exchanged numbers, so it became a guessing game of sorts, when you´d see each other, when you´d talk again, and somehow, the unpredictable nature of your encounters made them more thrilling, made it easier to long for more whenever you went a whole week not seeing each other, and it made both of you painfully aware of how much more you wanted, how desperately you wished you could just invite each other over, but you knew how suspicious that would have looked, the married woman inviting the young neighbor over, to “hang out”. perhaps it wouldn´t have been that big of a deal, perhaps nobody would have thought twice about it, but your shared hesitation gave away that you both knew where things would lead if you were left alone in a room for too long.

one specific evening, the inevitable happened.

one of your roomates was out of town and the two others were out for dinner. around 9 pm you stepped outside for a moment to take out the trash and because you weren´t used to being the only person at home, you forgot to take your keys with you and the wind made the front door slam shut, leaving you locked out. you didn´t have your phone on you either, so you were left with two options: staying outside and sitting on the steps of the house until your roommates came back later that night, or asking a kind neighbor if they´d let you stay for an hour or so.

naturally, you chose the latter and there was an obvious answer as to which neighbor you would ask. it was a little calculated on your part because you knew that that was maybe your one chance of getting into their house with a clear excuse, a motif that hid your other, less innocent motif for wanting to be let into Van´s personal space. there was no way of turning you away in a situation like that, so once she opened the door and you told her about it, standing there in your loungewear, your face soft in the bit of remaining natural light, she knew she was playing with fire by telling you yes, but she couldn´t help it, it was too late, she´d have said yes to anything you wanted from her, she felt a sharp awareness of it as you walked inside and followed her to the living room, that there was nothing she would deny you if you just asked her for it, and deep down, beneath the part of her that said “no, don´t do it”, there was a much larger part that was glad that you´d come to her, that said “when was the last time you felt this alive? imagine what it would feel like, to give into her?”.

Van led you to the living room and told you to sit and get comfortable as she got you a drink from the open kitchen, connected to the large living space, where she´d already made herself one, throwing out the fact that Tai was out of town for a conference, which was why she was home alone. the relief you felt when she said that was way too strong, and you didn´t mask it well, she caught it in your gaze as she sat down next to you, your sudden air of giddiness. you kept a safe distance between each other, but not enough to be unaware of the palpable tension, a moment of silence as you both tried to act normal, tried to find a casual way to talk to each other, while feeling your hearts beating of your chests just from sitting there together.

thankfully, the initial awkwardness subsided within minutes, you quickly fell back into your dynamic, one that was built on humor but also trust, over the weeks you´d been something like confidants to each other, enjoying the kind of honesty that was made easy by the fact that your lives were completely separate, that you had no way of spilling each other’s secrets to someone that the other person knew. neither of you ever explicitly acknowledged it but it was clear that you were both lonely in your own ways and that your connection was a way to escape that feeling.

the atmosphere of the room was nice at that hour, a few candles burning, a dim light form an expensive looking lamp in the corner of the room, a peaceful silence, the kind of atmosphere that turns conversations more intimate and personal, so you found yourselves spilling more and more about your personal lives as you kept drinking and losing your filter, absentmindedly touching each other at times, a pat on the shoulder, a touch on the arm, a thrill each time, one that made you both want more, pushing the limit of how long you could rest your hand on the other person each time.

you´d picked up on it before, that Van hardly ever mentioned Tai, and that when she did, it was always with a slightly pained tone, “my wife” never said with much affection, so it wasn´t a secret, that they were not doing too well as a couple. that night Van told you a bit more, since she felt seen and heard by you and appreciated the fact that you never looked at her with pity, that you had a way of making off-hand jokes in the exact right moments to get her out of her spiraling thoughts.

from what she told you, you got the sense that neither of them were truly awful people to be with romantically, that neither of them were truly intentionally hurting the other, but that they´d just gotten tangled up in a mess that was so hard to get out of after all that time that staying in it was simply the less exhausting option. at one point that night she slipped up and straight up told you “she actually cheated on me. with someone at work for a few months last year. or maybe she lied and it’s still going on, I don´t fucking know”, that sudden confession smacked you across the face, so you just stared at her, uttering something like “oh.. I´m sorry” as she looked at you, a fragility to her expression as she continued, “and the worst thing was that I wasn´t even angry or shocked because it was so fucking obvious to me, that that would happen in our relationship eventually”, “infidelity?” you asked, which she nodded at, “yes. it was always going to happen, so in a way I didn´t even blame her because it felt so inevitable. sorry I shouldn´t be telling you all of this, I´ll stop”.

what you asked her next was intentional, it was not subtle at all and you knew it, but each passing moment you felt yourself growing more and more eager to touch her, so you just said it, “have you ever considered t it? cheating on her too?”. she looked at you for what felt like ages, you held her gaze, moving a little closer instinctively, holding eye-contact. Van could have answered in many ways, and chose the single worst possible response, full, uncensored honesty: “I´m considering it right now.”, her voice unwavering, her gaze back where it had been drawn way too many times already that night: your lips.

the second you processed what she´d just said, your whole body burned up, your face flushed, your breathing quickened, it came crashing over you in full force, the rush of her confession, her want out in the open. there was nothing left to say, there was no other possible response you could have given her then but to move closer to her, waiting as she reached up and touched your cheek, her lips parted in anticipation, your faces barely inches apart, until you were the one to break the last barrier, your hand on her neck to pull her into a deep kiss.

the thing that was most telling about your need for each other was that you did not pull away and wait for a reaction, from the moment your lips touched you lost all shame and kept going and going, adjusting your positions on the couch, your leg over hers, half on her lap as you both grabbed each other, tearing at each other´s clothes, panting and sighing between kisses, desperate and needy, not dignified at all in the way you got all over each other, a sloppiness to your kissing that turned sexual very quickly, touching tongues and moaning into each other´s open mouths, trying to get some sort of friction from moving your legs apart so the other could push their knee in there, a violent release of all the tension that had built up before, about 15 minutes of making out and moving against each other like that until you eventually lost your breaths and pulled away, hot and red and completely out of it, smoothing down your hair and pulling your previously discarded shirts back on as you mumbled “sorry, I´m so sorry” at least five times, unsure how to possibly move on from what had just gone down. instead of trying to find words, trying to talk about it, you hastily suggested that you should probably leave her be, since your roomates should have probably been back by then, which she agreed to, still breathing heavy and as she saw you to the door.

before you went back to your house, you both stood there at the threshold, telling yourselves that it was just a moment of weakness, that it had gotten late and that you were drunk and that you could forget all about it, you reassured each other that it was a one-time thing, nothing to lose sleep over, but of course, it wouldn´t stay at that, you both knew while saying all those things that it was complete bullshit, that you´d barely drank two glasses and definitely did not feel sorry, and definitely did not want to forget about it.

after you left, she sat down on the staircase, head in her hands, trying to pretend that she felt guilty, trying to make herself feel bad, but only able to focus on the feeling the burn of her skin where you´d kissed her, clinging to it, the heavenly sensation of you being all hers.

the next day you woke up with an ache for her touch that you tried your best to ignore, busying yourself with cooking an elaborate dish, doing coursework, listening to music, cleaning up around the house, but by 5 pm you were done with your to-do list and had no plans to go out with friends, so you laid down and tried to take a nap because the time simply would not pass, minute after minute, dragged out by your excruciating desire to go over to her again, so around 6 pm you could not stand it anymore and accepted your culpability as you left your house to go over and follow your selfish instinct to have her again.

the moment Van opened the door, she smiled at you in a way that said “I knew this would happen”, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed as she looked you for a moment, taking in the sight of you before asking “locked yourself out again, hm?”, which made you smile too then, a shake of your head, a shared feeling of “what the fuck are we doing here.” as you stared at each other, unable to pretend that you felt anything but joy when she said “come in”.

the next few hours turned into a feverish haze of desire, you lost track of time entirely as you continued where you´d left off the night before, frantically undressing in the hallway before landing on the couch again, hands eagerly exploring the spots of your bodies that you hadn´t gotten to the night before.

that evening she became addicted to you, to a degree that was beyond what she´d expected, because you read her so well that she didn´t even have to muster up the courage to ask you for what she really wanted. a few minutes into making out and caressing each other, you moved down to her legs, and for a moment it seemed like a dream to her, too good to be true, that you were doing the exact thing she´d been dying for; each time she´d imagined being with you, she hadn´t imagined fucking you but being fucked by you. the one thing that got her to finish while masturbating those days was the thought of you between her thighs, but she had not expected that you were into it, her assumption was that most younger girls would probably want her to take charge and fuck them and she would´ve done it, gladly, but the fact that you were so eager to give, to please, your lips soft on her skin as you kissed your way down her body, it made her yours, entirely. that night you switched between making out, having sex, and talking for about 3 hours until you were spent and exhausted and laughed about how beyond help you were, how you could already see it playing out, your impending affair.

the thing that Van told you as you laid together, absentmindedly tracing the outline of each other´s exposed bodies, was that her and Tai did still have sex every once in a while, but only ever after fights. it was always an extension of their struggle for power, always rushed and aggressive, forcing orgasms out of each other so quickly that it hurt, that it felt more like a punishment than anything else, never an expression of love or of true desire, always a tool for dominance. so even though Van was not much of a top, over the years she´d started fucking Tai after particularly nasty fights, to regain the upper hand, and it always left her feeling horrible afterwards, ashamed and sad.

some people were really into hate sex but Van had never been one of them, to truly be satisfied during sex she needed it to be sensual and passionate, she was not the type for degrading or brutal stuff, sometimes a hint of it maybe, but most of the time what she truly wanted out of intimacy was to be lovingly opened up by someone, to be tended to and worshiped, to turn soft and vulnerable in someone's hands. she loved slow kissing during sex, she loved taking her time and finishing only a good while into it, and most of all she loved being eaten out. penetration was good in certain moments for her, she did enjoy it when you kept your tongue on her while adding pressure with your fingers, but nothing pleased her more than the simple act of getting head, preferably multiple times with breaks in between, which is what ended up happening most times you were over at their place. she´d stopped letting Tai do it for her because she quite literally did not want to open up for her like that, couldn´t bear the vulnerability of it, so with you, she rediscovered the side of her that she´d tried to ignore, her deep need to submit to someone sexually, to give up control and be pleased without worrying about being perceived as weak.

it was not that she did not enjoy pleasuring you too, sometimes when you seemed a little too satisfied with yourself after you´d made her cum twice in a row, she pushed you down and held you in place to finish you off too, sucking on your neck, on your tits while making you cum against her hand, proving to you that she was very much capable of also turning you into a whining mess, the way you usually turned her into one. sometimes you tried different things, one time she begged you to let her watch you jerk off which turned into her doing the same thing next to you, a few times you were both so in heat that you just rubbed up against each other in various ways, deeply pleased by the sight of the other person’s head falling back, the feeling of your hips moving in unison.

and yet, the one thing that made you both feel electrified the most was when you did what you´d done to her that first time you´d had sex: giving her head until she was too weak to speak, to do anything but lay there and submit to her bodies intense response to you.

the contrast was unbearably hot to you: her tough exterior, her nonchalant and stoic aura, that melted away in an instant each time you touched her, replaced by a sensitivity and softness that drove you crazy, that made you feel protective over her in some way. on your part it also had something to do with pride, there was no way of denying it, that you got a taste for it very quickly, the unique power you had over her, the knowledge that you and you alone were giving her what she really needed, the fact that she seemed to be physically incapable of staying away from you for more than a few days. you were addicted to it the same way she was, haunted by her moans and words of praise, the way she sighed your name, the way her legs felt smooth against your face, her taste, all of it.

it wasn´t just emotional for her, for you it was also shifting things, your collision. for a good while you´d felt like you were just floating around, going from place to place without being truly tethered to anyone or anything, friendships that were fun but never that deep, no truly fulfilling romantic encounters, so the feeling of being needed on a visceral level, being a central part of someone´s life, being physically indispensable, it gave you a sense of purpose. you knew that it might have sounded absurd to others, describing fucking someone else’s wife like that, but it was true, it was giving you something that you´d been lacking, that you´d been craving.

the affair had its own rhythm that you fell into those weeks after you first got together, there was no way you could sneak her over to your place, with at least one of your roommates always being home, so their house was the place to meet up, and Van was careless enough to invite you over whenever Tai was working late or out at some politicians dinner party, other people might have waited until their partner was out of town, to be 100% sure that they could not be caught, but Van was too desperate for you to wait that long in between, she told herself that she could always get dressed in a hurry if she randomly heard the front door unlocking while you were there, but lucky for the both of you, it never came to that.

about a month into it, you broke the news that you´d go on a seven day trip with your friends, which would mean that you´d be separated for way longer than you were used to, since those early days of the affair, you saw each other at least four times a week, sometimes more if you both happened to be home at the same time during the afternoon or on a day off.

you were both not thrilled about spending those days apart, but part of you also felt a sense of excitement over the fact that it meant that your need had time to grow, that your next time of seeing each other would be intense and even more desperate than usual.

Van realized when you told her just how lost she had gotten in her feelings for you because for a second she felt genuine terror at the thought of not seeing you for that long, you´d made her experience a sort of sexual renaissance, you´d woken her body up again; for years Van had suppressed her needs, which had mostly been drowned out by her depressive moods anyway, so it could not have been overstated, how life changing it was to finally be connected to her desires and her body again, to feel free in her expression of her sexuality, to be taken care of by you, since it was not just about the sex itself, it had slowly started bleeding into other areas of her life too, the feeling of autonomy, the feeling of vitality, something about your connection had brought her back to life, so she tried her best to keep her separation anxiety at bay.

after seven long days, most of which she´d spent working over-time or going outside as much as she could to try and remain somewhat sane, she finally got the text telling her that you were back home and would come over once you were done unpacking and eating dinner.

the moment she closed the door behind you later that night, you couldn´t even finish the sentence “you look good” because you immediately felt her hands on your face, her lips finding yours with a force that made you stumble back against the wall, bracing yourself as you smiled into the kiss and returned the energy, more than willing to save your words for later.

what you didn´t know was that she´d spent a better part of the week thinking about you, to a degree that was bordering on the obsessive, it was slowly but surely driving her mad; you showed up in her dreams, she woke up hot and frustrated more than once after feeling you close in her sleep, she regularly zoned out while trying to get work done, Tai had to repeat herself more around her because her mind was always with you, the way you looked at her, the way you ran your fingers through her hair while kissing, the feeling of your bare leg pressed against hers, her hand on your thigh when you got hot and heavy, your nails digging into her flesh as you held her in place, every little detail was burned into her mind and the constant flashbacks were killing her, so naturally, the moment you were finally in front of her again, it all came bubbling up, and you could tell from the way she kissed you: she was fucking starving.

after you both pulled away to catch some air she sighed, “jesus christ, you smell so fucking good”, while remaining barely an inch from your face. lucky for her, you´d gotten out oft the shower about fifteen minutes before coming over, so your skin was freshly lotioned, soft to the touch and and giving off a fresh scent that was sure to haunt her the coming days, she breathed in as deeply as possible, a shiver down her spine, a feverish adoration for you gnawing at her sanity as her hands wandered all over you.

“you´re not seeing anyone, are you?” she made sure, so you shook your head, wondering why she asked in that specific moment until you felt her eager lips on your neck and knew exactly why: she´d made sure that she could do whatever she wanted to you without worrying about marks or bruises, and you were happy in your passivity, pinned against the wall as you felt her tongue on the side of your neck, her teeth ever so lightly digging in, clearly lost in her need to taste you, to devour you, and if she hadn´t been careful she might have actually hurt you but you were glad to be wanted that violently, her hands rough under your shirt, on your chest, squeezing your tits hard enough to leave them shades of pink and red where her fingertips pressed down, drawing out increasingly loud sounds from you until she finally let go and faced you again, her lips swollen, her face flushed, an intensity to her gaze that was close to something animalistic as she kept feeling you up, making a satisfied humming sound, you smiled then as you placed your hands on her back.

“well you´re high energy, considering the hour”, she nodded, briefly wiping her mouth, “yeah, I just..”, she was beyond words, so you pulled her closer, your, tilting your head, a tenderness to your gaze as you asked, “should I help you relax? wind down a little?”. of course you knew that that was why she wanted you over, still, you liked hearing her say it, begging for it, “yes, please”. “you really missed me, hm?”, a smugness to your expression that got to her, she liked being being teased by you, it made her feel weak in a delicious way, “you have no fucking idea”, she uttered as she pulled you down the hallway, her hand firm around yours, almost ripping you forward because she was so impatient, leading you to the couch, your preferred place to hook up because fucking in their bed did seem a little too shameless, and besides, their couch was large and luxurious enough to feel like a bed anyway.

there was no need to pretend or waste time, so she pulled down her jeans and took her place, getting comfortable as you got down on your knees in front of her, moving between her legs and brushing your cheek against her inner thigh for a moment, looking up at her with innocent eyes, a docility to your demeanor that almost killed her then. she usually only took her pants off by herself because she liked the ritual of you ripping down her underwear, so you did, freeing her of it in one determined motion, placing your hands flat on her freckled thighs after, caressing them as you leaned forward, drawing it out to have her right where you wanted her.

Van seemed even more desperate than usual, you could tell from her heavy breathing, from the faint whimpering sound, that she´d been dying to have you back all week, that she´d probably tried and failed to be satisfied with touching herself to the memory of you, it was a little cruel of you to draw it out, you could hear her whispering a soft “please..” as she leaned back and waited, burning up from the sensation of your fingers trailing her skin, so you finally put her out of her misery and kissed your way up her thigh to where she needed you, a gasp of relief as you put your lips to her cunt and ran your tongue over the familiar sensation of her arousal, warm and slick, a broad stroke of your tongue, a humm of pleasure, savoring her taste before diving in, your hands firm on her thighs as you pulled her forward a little to have her right in your face, no worry about air flow as you buried yourself in her.

you´d gotten to know her body well enough by that point to have the exact rhythm and speed that she needed from you figured out, and you used it to your advantage, mercilessly, moving your tongue up and down between her folds in a sloppy intense manner that bordered on making out with her cunt, and it had her whining within seconds, her hands in your hair, roughly tugging at it as she praised “that´s it, baby, keep going”, she knew it was pretty shameless, to use pet names when you weren´t her “baby”, not her anything, but during sex she couldn´t help it, she was just too into you, and you didn´t mind, it felt good to be claimed like that, even just for a moment.

she struggled hard with keeping her legs still, so you held them in place as best as you could while feeling her rock against your mouth, your chin mouth glistening with her juices, drunk on the feeling of her slick heat against yours lips, the heavenly sensation of hearing her panting and moaning for more, her hips moving with the rhythm of your tongue, the brief vision of her head thrown back, her throat exposed, her glowing hair against her pale skin as you glanced up from below, you could feel yourself growing wet from it, the utter thrill of having her at your mercy like that.

Van eventually grew so erratic and dizzy with lust that she held onto your face, harder than usual, as she abandoned all shame as she pushed your head forward, grinding herself against you, using you in a way, which you submitted to in an instant, holding your tongue in place as she basically rode your face, brushing up against your nose with her clit in a way that made her lose her last bit of composure, her sounds closer to cries then as she felt the pleasurable ache at her core deepening and deepening each passing second, “you feel so fucking good”, she breathed, overcome with affection for you, your way of giving her exactly what she needed and more, your selflessness when it came to intimacy, when it came to her desires.

she could only keep up her aggressive claiming of your face for so long, after a few minutes of perverse, nearly pornographic sounds from both of you as you got lost in the aggressive heat, her hips became sore, a needy cry from her that signaled to you that you should take charge again, so you pushed her back into the couch cushion and slowed it down, urging her “breathe, I´ve got you” deep, intense strokes of your tongue, deliberate and sensual licks that were a sweet contrast to her messy, fast movements before, a satisfied sigh from her, followed by “god, don´t stop”, as you kept going, never letting up, never interrupting the flow of intense arousal that was filling her head to toe, a warmth that was unparalleled, burning through her heart, her soul, her whole being, submitting to you was her way of experiencing revelation.

you spent a good while like that, feeling her stroke your hair in encouragement as you let her get worked up to the point that she needed to get to, in order to really cum as hard she wanted to, so eventually, once you felt her growing restless, you did the final thing you knew would push her over the edge, your tongue focused solely on her most sensitive spot, flicking over it again and again as you forced her weak legs open to have enough space, suckling on her clit with a low hum of pleasure, which was the thing that made her feel that sudden violent wave of heat at her core, helpless mumbling and cursing under her breath as you drew out her orgasm, the shuddering kind, the kind that´s full body, all consuming and satisfying to a degree that no rushed jerking off could ever compete with, it was the thing that made her crave you, your touch, your mouth, the way you made her cum without rushing her or forcing it out of her, each time you went down on her she knew you´d let her take as long as she needed, you´d keep your face between her legs for hours if she wanted, so in that moment, she felt nothing but pure bliss as she finished against your mouth, her hips still jerking up in slower intervals as you let her ride it out, your lips still on her, leaving light kisses on the mess you´d made as she let go of your head, a barely audible “fuck..” as she went slack, a comfortable silence while you looked up at her, drinking in the sight of her all flushed and blissed out, her eyes shut, her lips parted, her chest rising and falling, a pat of her hand next to her on the couch, a signal for you to come up and join her.

once you got down next to her you moved closer and felt her reaching for your hand as she turned her face and smiled at you, slightly shy in the wake of her vocal climax, “I like when you get like that”, you mused, gently touching her arm, “oh really?”, she asked, a tired smile, eyeing you from the side, slowly coming back to her senses. “yeah. it´s hot when you hold me in place, use me”, she squeezed your hand then, grinning, a flicker of surprise in her eyes, “okay I see. I´ll keep that in mind” a pause before she added, “I really don´t deserve you, huh?” meaning it, she’d felt slightly guilty for unleashing her desperation onto you like that, and there you were, telling her it was a turn on. “you know, you should ride me face sometime. like actually sit on me”, that comment got a blush out of her, she shook her head and protested but deep down she knew she´d probably take you up on it, it made her feel a lingering heat at her core, to imagine you under her like that, your pretty face, all hers.

“god I don´t know what the fuck is going on with me..” she admitted, shaking her head, still high on endorphins, a sympathetic pat on her shoulder from you then, deeply pleased by your effect on her. “am I messing with your head?”, you joked, but she didn´t laugh, she just nodded, “you are, yes. I like you so much.” it came out more sincere than she intended, so you went quiet for a moment, letting the words settle, leaning your head against the cushion while staring at her, waiting for her to look at you, which she did, brushing a stand of hair out of your face, a gentle swipe of her thumb over your lower lip before leaning in and giving you a kiss, a tender one, unlike before, the kind of kiss where you just leave your lips pressed against together for a moment, followed up by a few minutes of soft, slow making out.

eventually, Van reached down to put on her underwear again before walking over to the kitchen behind you to get you both a glass of water, handing it to you once she sat back down and paid closer attention to you than before, looking right at you as she said, “I just realized I haven´t asked you a single fucking thing about your week yet, I´m a horrible host”, you smiled, “no worries, not much to tell anyway, it was just a nice getaway, no juicy stories”, she smiled, looking at you with unconcealed affection,“still, how are you, really?”. it was clear that she was actually interested, invested in your life, your state of mind. you thought about it as she drank up and put the glass down, her hands free to touch you again, resting on your legs as you spoke. “oh I´m good, just a bit tired from the flight, but other than that, I´m great right now”, emphasis on the last words to make it clear that it had to do with her, she nodded, “well, I feel kinda bad now, calling you over here when you´re already exhausted. you should probably be sleeping right now, hm?”, you shook your head, “oh no, I´ll take this over sleep, any time”.

Van glanced down for a moment and noticed the slight bruising on your knees, which had appeared because the floor right below the couch was not covered by carpet.“jesus I´m sorry..” she said, inspecting it closer, “oh no need to apologize, I don´t mind.” she gently traced the red skin, mostly out of concern, but deep down she was also satisfied by the sight, proof of your submission to her needs, deep down she´d always had a thing for women on their knees, something about worship, something about devotion, her hand wandered up your thigh eventually, her voice low as she said, “I do feel a little guilty sometimes though. you´re so sweet and I treat you.. well not the way you deserve. you should be out on a date or something” for a moment Van genuinely felt a sense of shame over her greed for you, the impact she was quite literally leaving on your body without being able to give you much more than a few nights a week, in secret.

“I´m not doing you a favor, Van. I wouldn´t keep coming back here if it didn´t give me what I need too”, she looked back up at you again,“it does?”, she knew of course that you were into her, but it wasn´t easy for her to believe that being of service to her was that pleasing to you. “yes, I´d be pretty devastated if this ended right now” you insisted. she moved her hand to your neck, her eyes trailing down to that space above your collarbone that she wanted to kiss again, “you know that that´s kind of hard to believe for me, right?”, you were amused by her inability to see just how deep your attraction to her was because to you it was so obvious, “well, not to be too forward but your body feels really good and you sound hot. and that´s more than enough to get me off”, she shook her head, “okay stop”, you liked seeing her flustered so you kept pushing it, leaning forward playing with her hair as you said, “I mean it. you´re very hot, you know that right?” a light shove from her then because she could feel her face turning red from your overt flirting, “alright, enough with the flattery, miss” but deep down she loved it, you could tell from her failed attempt to suppress a smile.

it had gotten late, it was nearing midnight, you were both getting sleepy and you´d come over in the clothes you´d wear to bed, so there was an obvious question on Van´s mind, a hesitant pause before she said, “listen. would it be really fucked up to ask you to sleep over tonight?”, she was aware that it might be out of line to ask you to sleep in the bed she usually shared with her wife, you eyed her, the way she was holding herself with slight self-consciousness, a soft smile as you said, “probably, yeah”, she nodded, “right, yeah, I thought so..” a slightly disappointed expression that you took as a compliment before you continued, “but. I can cope with doing messed up things. clearly” gesturing back and forth between you two, which made her laugh then, “okay, good. I mean, you can sleep on my side, if that makes it less weird”, you were tickled by that logic, “sure, let´s do that”, “come on then, I think you deserve to relax now”, she said, giving your thigh a light squeeze as she got up and motioned for you to follow her upstairs.

as you passed by the kitchen counter your eyes landed on an opened envelope near the edge, “Vanessa?” you said, which made her flinch and grab your wrist to pull you towards the hallway, away from the document, you laughed as she did this, amused by her dramatic reaction “so, that´s your real name?”, “obviously, yes. and just so you know, I fucking hate it.”, a pause before she added, “but I´ll admit, in your voice it actually doesn´t sound that horrible”, “careful, don´t be too sweet to me. Vanessa”, usually she´d have gotten pissed at someone for teasing her with her full name, but with you it was different, she could tell it was done lovingly, it also kind of turned her on but she´d unpack that another time, “no? why not?”, you looked back at her then as you went up the stairs, “don´t wanna make your side piece fall for you”, “side piece?? that´s awful, I don´t think of you as that”, she sounded scandalized, “I know, I´m just messing with you”, in that moment it hit her what you´d actually said before,“wait, what was that, repeat that for me”, her demeanor suddenly much lighter, but you just smiled at her, the glow on your face was enough for her to know that you had meant it, that you didn´t just see her as a casual fling.

the fact that it was pitch black outside by that point made it much easier to go into their room, it felt less intrusive than if you´d seen every little detail, besides, you were too tired to take a good look around anyway, so you went over to their bed and tried to get comfortable as you felt her getting in on the other side. you did have a brief moment of worry then as you realized what exactly it was that you were doing, where you were laying down, and it didn´t escape her. about a minute passed of you just laying there, quiet, not looking at her or moving to snuggle up to her, which amused her, the fact that you had no problem having sex with her but suddenly got shy in that moment, so eventually she turned to face you, a smile as she said, “you do know that you can touch me, right? considering what we just did, this should not be the thing to lose sleep over”, you moved your head to meet her eyes then.

“okay very funny. I just thought it might be weird for you, if it feels like I´m her or something…”, she shook her head,“we don´t get close under the covers anymore, so, you´re good”, that almost made you laugh then,“that´s a pretty depressing image”, “oh I know, that´s why you had such an easy time seducing me”, she drew out the last two words for dramatic effect and you knew she was joking but you decided to play into it, a prideful smile on your face as you moved closer to her, pressing yourself up against her side as you whispered, “right, I took full advantage of your loneliness, didn´t I?” your lips soft on the side of her neck, your hand under her shirt, a helpless sigh from her “hmm”, “I corrupted you, huh?” your fingertips trailing down her ribs, you loved feeling her weak and quiet from your effect on her, so you kept whispering to her between kisses, her eyes shut as she let you feel her up until she eventually grew too hot from it and pushed you away, gently. “okay, easy you´re gonna have to stop that, unless you´ll follow through”, you cocked your head, a playful sparkle to your eyes, “should I?”. Van shook her head, in slight disbelief over your willingness to go again, “I appreciate the energy, really, but let´s save it for tomorrow”.

she had a different urge then, one that came from a place of pure tenderness, the sight of you all soft and comfortable next to her made it impossible for her to leave any space between your bodies, “come on, turn around for me”, a nudge to your side that made you face away from her, so she could put her arm around you and pull you close, her face nuzzled against your back, breathing in that scent of yours she couldn´t get enough of, “good?”, she asked, squeezing you a little as you moved your legs against hers under the blanket. “yeah, this is nice”, you sighed, relaxing into it, a deep sense of safety in her embrace.

both of you instantly grew heavy, so you shut your eyes and drifted off, whispering “sleep well” to each other at the exact same time, which made you both laugh a quiet, almost girlish laugh. just before you fell asleep, you put your hand over hers, in that state of half consciousness it was easy to be romantic, it was easy to do what you really wanted to, so you fell asleep the way you would with a girlfriend, forgetting for a moment that she wasn´t, too lost in the utter peace you felt being there with her.

Van knew what some outsiders might have said about her relationship to you, “the lonely wife goes and fucks the hot young neighbor? how surprising.” something cynical like that, and she couldn´t deny that there was some truth to it, but as she felt your body warm against hers that night, she could not see anything nasty in your dynamic, it was impossible, because right then, the part of her that had remained a believer even during her darkest times came alive again; she was convinced that some higher power had made you cross paths. she did not believe in angels in a literal sense but she believed that people could play that part in the lives of others, often without even realizing, and that was how she saw you, as a kind of divine presence in her life that had come and ruptured the routine that was about to suffocate her, that she´d shut herself away in. Van knew that it might have come off as sanctimonious if she´d said it out loud, but she did not care, deep down, she truly felt like you were going to change things for the better, not just for her but for Tai too, because for the first time in ages Van felt a fragile sense of optimism looking forward, instead of the sheer dread she´d felt all the years before.

she realized then that felt stronger and more capable of trying to figure out how to move on from her marriage, not because she was going to use you as her distraction or emotional support, she was not selfish enough to make you shoulder that burden, but because you were a living breathing reminder that there was more out there, you were a reminder of the possibilities she would open herself up to if she just accepted the initial pain of breaking out of what was known to her. it hit her then, that her feeling of entrapment was not grounded in reality, she was not the young girl stuck in her mothers house anymore and she was also not the teenage girl stranded in the woods; during her developmental years she´d been so unfree and restricted in her movement that as an adult she´d been completely blind to the fact that she could do whatever the fuck she wanted, go wherever she pleased, it was not out of masochism that her and Tai had stayed together for that long, even when it hurt, it was because they were hardwired to accept horrible circumstances as inescapable, they were too good at submitting to pain, in a way it was almost impressive, just how long they could keep their heads above water in situations where others would have already drowned in despair.

the time she spent with you had shown her just how exhilarating and beautiful it could be, to finally allow herself to look beyond what she was familiar with and to let herself want things, to open herself up to the terrifying act of hoping for more.

in her deepest fantasies, she could see herself and Tai with new partners, as good friends, talking to each other with that shared humor that they´d lost during their years of marriage, which Van missed, Tai had been her best friend before they’d become lovers, after all. she could envision it perfectly, Tai teasing her about being into younger women, letting herself be bossed around by someone who wasn´t even alive when they were in high school, it didn´t seem impossible to her, it seemed within reach, which shocked her.

as the feeling of you presses against her chest slowed her heart rate, she remembered what it feels like, to be free of anxiety, fully at ease, relaxed to her core. in that moment, nothing was gnawing at her, no past pain could reach her, nothing could disrupt your shared peace, and you were blissfully unaware of it, the fact that she was close to tears right before sleep got a hold of her too.

the next morning you were unsure if you´d dreamed it up or if it had actually happened: her breath warm against your cheek in the middle of the night, a soft kiss, a whisper, “my angel”.

#it was fun to write something longer for her #van palmer x reader #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets #van palmer

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nickel156 · 2 months ago

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IS RHYSAND MORALLY GREY?

OK, let’s get into it, because this idea that Rhysand is sooo morally grey? Yeah, not buying it. Let’s be real—he’s not a morally grey character, he’s just framed in a way that gives him a pass for a lot of his questionable actions. When you actually break it down, Rhysand is pretty black and white, but the narrative does a fantastic job of dressing him up as “complex” to make readers feel like his actions are more nuanced than they really are. Spoiler: they’re not.

His Actions Are Consistently Justified by “Good Intentions”

One of the biggest indicators that Rhysand isn’t actually morally grey is how everything he does, no matter how manipulative or controlling, is framed as being for the greater good. His decisions, whether it’s drugging Feyre or making her wear revealing outfits under the mountain, are always given this neat little justification. “He was protecting her,” “He had no choice,” “He was trying to outwit Amarantha.” A morally grey character wrestles with the consequences of their actions—Rhysand doesn’t. We’re told, over and over again, that what he did was necessary, and that alone is supposed to excuse him from criticism. That’s not moral ambiguity—that’s convenient narrative framing.

He’s Always Positioned as the Hero:

Let’s not pretend like Rhysand is ever in real moral conflict. His choices are presented as tough but necessary, and we’re rarely, if ever, given a moment where he actually grapples with the darker sides of those choices. Even when he makes questionable decisions, we’re spoon-fed reasons to believe he’s ultimately in the right. That’s not grey. That’s just a hero with a darker aesthetic. Compare him to actual morally grey characters who sit in their discomfort, who make selfish choices or hurt people without always having noble intentions behind it. Rhysand? Nah, he’s just the guy who always ends up looking like the hero, even when his actions should be called out.

His Morality Never Comes Into Question:

A true morally grey character is someone whose actions challenge not only the other characters in the story, but the readers too. We should be asking ourselves, “Is this person really doing the right thing? Should I be supporting this?” But with Rhysand? There’s never any real doubt. Even when he manipulates or controls others, we’re reassured that it’s all part of some grand, noble plan. His friends back him, Feyre forgives him, and the narrative never holds him accountable in a meaningful way. There’s no real complexity here, just a character who gets away with being controlling because the plot tells us to forgive him.

Everything Bad He Does Is Framed as a Sacrifice:

Rhysand is never portrayed as doing bad things because he wants to, or because he’s selfish, or because he’s flawed in a way. It’s always framed as him making a sacrifice for the greater good. He does bad things, sure—but the narrative works overtime to show us that he had to do them. When you’re constantly being told that a character’s questionable choices are out of necessity, you’re not being shown a morally grey character—you’re being shown a hero who occasionally has to get his hands dirty. Big difference.

He Doesn’t Struggle With His Decisions:

What makes a morally grey character truly compelling is when they struggle with their own decisions, when they recognize that they’ve hurt people or crossed a line, and they aren’t sure how to feel about it. But Rhysand? He’s remarkably comfortable with all of his decisions. He doesn’t dwell on whether or not what he did under the mountain was wrong; in fact, he hardly ever reflects on it at all. It’s presented as a burden, sure, but it’s a burden that’s neatly tied up with a bow: he did what he had to, end of story. He’s too comfortable in his righteousness to ever really be morally grey.

He’s Too Perfectly Framed as a Savior:

Let’s be real, Rhysand’s character arc is too neat and too perfectly framed as “Feyre’s savior” for him to be truly morally ambiguous. Every time he’s at risk of being seen as a villain, the narrative bends over backwards to remind us that he’s actually the one who saved Feyre, saved Prythian, saved everyone, really. A morally grey character wouldn’t be positioned so neatly as the savior figure. They’d be somewhere in between—someone whose actions could be seen as selfish or harmful, even if they had noble intentions. Rhysand, on the other hand, is always one step away from being a full-on white knight, cloaked in black and purple.

The Lack of Consequences

A true morally grey character faces the consequences of their actions, both externally and internally. But Rhysand? He rarely, if ever, suffers real consequences for the morally dubious things he’s done. Everyone either forgives him, rationalizes his behavior, or never holds him accountable in the first place. Where’s the moral ambiguity if there’s no fallout? If the narrative is bending over backward to redeem or justify every action, then there’s no real grey area—it’s just a hero getting away with questionable behavior.

In conclusion, Rhysand isn’t morally grey—he’s a hero painted with darker shades, but still a hero through and through. The narrative bends over backwards to excuse his actions, frame him as the savior, and justify all the harm he’s done as “necessary sacrifices.” There’s nothing morally grey about that; it’s just a case of good PR for a character whose dark side is polished up so much that it doesn’t even feel like a flaw anymore. If you want morally grey, look elsewhere—Rhysand is just a dressed-up hero, no matter how much the fandom wants to pretend otherwise.

#i'm not delusional. you're delusional #anti rhysand #anti rhys #anti feysand #morally questionable

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cottonlemonade · 9 months ago

Text

Not Enough

word count: 2537 || avg. reading time: 11 mins.

pairing: Oikawa x chubby!Reader

genre: angst, hurt, lots of pining

warnings: Oikawa is not kind to himself - at all!, mentions of sports injury (reader), self doubt (Oikawa), like… one suggestive line

> Oikawa met you when you became a part time coach for Takeru‘s volleyball club a few months ago

> originally you just wanted this job over the summer before starting university in Tohoku to make some extra cash but… now…

> your friends often asked why a 90min train ride each way for one somewhat low paying job was so important that you couldn‘t look for something else closer to university or ask for an extra shift at the café you worked at

> but besides the fact that you really grew to love the kids over the summer you also, foolishly, wanted to see this one guy who always came to cheer on his little nephew

> you knew it was simply going to stay a secret crush

> he didn’t really seem like the type of guy who would go for a chubby girl like you, but that was okay

> so once a week you would take the train from Tohoku to Sendai, using the commute to catch up on readings and going through your notes - heart racing, cheeks flushed and quite frankly, mind a little too fuzzy to concentrate on any kind of academics

> „y/n-senpai!“, the kids greeted you enthusiastically when you walked through the doors of the gym, swarming you immediately like the excited puppies they reminded you of

> after ruffling some hair here and giving a high five there, you looked around, eyes searching

> you always found it a bit sad how little their parents seemed to care because none of them ever stayed long before or after training - at least when you compared it to him

> he stood in the corner of the hall, absentmindedly rolling a ball in one hand while he made sure Takeru‘s jacket was neatly folded on his bag with the other

> Oikawa really notices you the first time when he is looking through his latest pictures of Takeru

> you are in a lot of them, somewhere in the background, encouraging your pupils, laughing when one of them randomly cartwheeled or clapping when they improved on a technique

> he doesn’t think much about you outside of those two hours each week when he sees you and it takes him a few tries to remember your name if he was honest

> but Takeru never shuts up about you so without noticing, you also sneak into his mind more often

> whenever they go to the convenience store before training to get some water, Takeru insists on getting a milk mochi for you (your favorite treat)

> this happened so often now that at this point Oikawa already grabs one without thinking

> and so he found himself one night looking at the newest snapshot of his ever growing photo roll

> during the last training session Takeru had served a perfect ace and Oikawa had almost lost his voice from cheering so loudly

> his nephew had insisted on taking a photo with the trainer who made it all possible and so there you were, smiling into the camera, imitating Takeru‘s little peace sign

> you were pretty cute when he thought about it

> the next few times he actually starts talking to you about something other than Takeru and finds he really enjoys making you flustered

> the blush on your full cheeks, the way you avoid his eyes and laugh softly is just about the cutest thing he has ever seen

> in no time he suggests to Takeru to arrive a little earlier than usual, the nephew eyeing him suspiciously

> “If you’re going to be creepy to y/n-senpai, I won’t help you.” (cue Oikawa’s dot eyes)

> in the middle of October you suddenly stop coming to the trainings though and instead the kids are greeted by a grumpy elderly man

> „Where is y/n-senpai?“, the kids whine

> „How should I know?“, the man just gruffly replies

> with each following week Oikawa‘s disappointment about not seeing you is only matched by Takeru

> Christmas was approaching and you decide to head back to Miyagi to hang out with some old school mates and spend the holiday with Saeko, her being one of your closest friends

> the winter break also meant that a training camp was coming up

> Karasuno, Nekoma, Furukodani and Aoba Johsei were on the menu

> the official camp activities were over for the day but a few people decided to continue training matches 3 on 3

> the captain of the Karasuno team kept checking his phone, Oikawa figured it was probably to monitor if they could make it in time for dinner in the cafeteria

> Daichi then suddenly grins and Oikawa overhears him telling his teammates he has a surprise for them

> Tanaka, Nishinoya and Hinata are immediately intrigued and wonder what it could be - food being the most prominent theory

> then the door opens and a loud voice calls „Ryuu-chaaaan!“

> “Ugh, you call my sister a surprise?“, Tanaka grumbles

> Oikawa was ready to set the ball for Iwaizumi when he notices a second girl appear, waving happily

> “Y/N-SAN!“ Nishinoya calls and runs towards the girl

> Oikawa does a double take

> it‘s you, how can you be here???

> Iwaizumi notices his gaze and follows it

> you and Saeko had been at a birthday party for a friend and you were the designated driver while Saeko is quite drunk hanging off of you

> you spend a few minutes catching up with the Karasunos (apparently you were a third year yourself last year and were the manager of the volleyball club because the girl‘s club didn‘t have enough members so you ended up playing with them after training)

> now it seems you are on the university team

> „How is your back?“, Daichi asked and you waved it off with a smile

> „It‘s there.“, you said vaguely, „But! I no longer walk like a Disney witch, so that‘s something.“

> the Karasuno third and second years laugh and Daichi put a hand on your shoulder, which for some reason had Oikawa tense his jaw

> when your eyes finally land on him, a rush of adrenaline surges through his body

> you smile and give a little wave

> Oikawa can feel Iwaizumi‘s eyes on him but ignores it

> the Karasunos meanwhile ask if you can come by again tomorrow and play with them

> „Uhm, I don’t know about playing but I'll definitely come watch, if you want. How is that?“, you offer diplomatically, the smile never leaving your face

> Saeko, by now half asleep, mumbles something about wanting to go to bed and you bow and say you should get her home

> with some last joyful goodbyes the boys return to their game

> „If I could die between her thighs, I would die a happy man.“, one of the Furukodanis says and Oikawa spikes the ball „accidentally“ against the back of his head even though he agrees with him

> the next day, as promised, you drop by to watch them play

> Oikawa grins to himself, very pleased indeed, when he hears a small gasp from the bleachers whenever he makes a particularly skilled move

> once practice is over for the day, the boys rush to get to dinner

> Oikawa hangs back in the changing room, deciding to get some more serves in before the others would return

> outside the gym though he is met with Daichi, Sugawara, Tobio and Hinata

> apparently the two third years trying to persuade the over-eager first years that sustenance was just as important as volleyball

> when Oikawa slips past them back to the gym, the door is still open a bit and the soft thuds of a volleyball can be heard

> Ugh, he was hoping to be alone for his training

> „You know, when I said „Let’s go get dinner, everyone.“ I really did mean „everyone“, Shittykawa.“

> „Come on, Iwa-chan, a few reps won‘t kill me.“, Oikawa gives his friend a cheeky grin and heads for the door

> he checks to see who is inside and spots you in a back corner trying to toss a ball against the wall but you visibly wince whenever you lift your left arm

> he recognizes this wince - immediately

> in frustration you spike the ball away with your right and bury your face in your hands

> after a few shaky breaths you straighten again, bending down to pick up another ball

> „Huh, what‘s y/n-san doing?“, Hinata pokes his head through the door and makes Oikawa jump a little

> the other dinner stragglers have now also come to watch

> „That looks painful.“, Tobio muttered

> Oikawa kicks off his shoes and begins to march over to you, but Iwaizumi grabs his arm

> Oikawa just shrugs him off

> „Someone should stop her, before she hurts herself.“, he says quietly, and jogs to you

> „y/n-chan…“, he says softly when he hears your little sobs

> he can clearly see you freeze for a moment, then a motion of you wiping your eyes before turning around, plastering a smile on your face but your eyes are red and puffy

> you look at him for a few heartbeats, before your smile slowly begins to fade „How likely is it, you‘ll believe me when I say it‘s allergies?“

> „Not likely.“

> you just nod and a new wave of tears is coming over you

> then you spot the handful of people gawking at the door and you give a quick bow to Oikawa before hurrying past him

> he sees you mumbling something to their others, only slipping into your shoes before leaving

> “Shouldn’t we go after her?”, he hears Hinata asking when he rejoins the group

> „Not all at once, that might overwhelm her.“, Suga says thoughtfully

> the next moment, the grey haired third year gives Daichi a little push

> „Why me?”, the Karasuno captain asks

> „Because we’re not the ones desperately in love with her.”, Suga declares matter of factly

> Iwaizumi gives his friend another one of his patented sidelong glances

> meanwhile Oikawa watches Daichi go after you

> and then turns to head back inside to train

> the hot shower does wonders for his exerted muscles, but little for his mind

> Oikawa rolls his shoulders, trying to relax but he can’t get the image of you crying out of his head

> and what happened when Daichi had gone after you?

> at least when he was practising he could pretend to focus on volleyball when really all he thought about was you and a possible confession slipping from the Karasuno captain‘s lips

> he turns the water off, steam enveloping him

> when had his crush turned into … this? Whatever this was.

> rubbing a towel aggressively through his wet hair he makes his way to his bag

> “You know I don‘t care about your love life.“

> the screech of horror coming from Oikawa echoes in the tiled washroom

> Iwaizumi stands, arms crossed in the doorway, glaring at his friend

> „Iwa-chan, you gave me a heart attack.“

> „Don‘t be dramatic.“

> “Then stop lurking around the showers.”, the setter says, back in his usual sing-song voice

> Iwaizumi closes his eyes in exasperation, a constant occurrence between them really

> Oikawa is rummaging in his bag for clean clothes

> “As I said, I don’t care about your love life. But… it would be nice for once to see you going after a sweet girl you actually like, instead of a random one that only wants you for your popularity.”

> the rummaging stops, Oikawa doesn’t look at him

> when he doesn’t reply, Iwaizumi sighs again, considering to throw hands before simply turning on his heel

> “Stupid idiot. Suit yourself, Trashykawa.”

> Oikawa straightens when the door falls shut, looking down at shirt in his hand

> his eyes wander to his phone

> a few weeks ago he had changed his lockscreen to a picture of Takeru, one where you were very clearly visible in the background, showing a little girl how to hold her fingers for a toss

> the picture appears inconspicuous to others, his nephew being the obvious main focus

> for Oikawa it was an easy way to look at your smile when his mind got cloudy

> he lets his head fall back and closes his eyes for a moment

> it would be selfish to confess to you

> you aren’t the kind of girl he could date for a few months and forget about when you inevitably dump him

> you deserve his full attention

> you deserve 110% of effort in a relationship

> and he knows he can’t give that to you

> he isn’t good enough to even suggest being your boyfriend

> plus, you only know his bright side

> the confident, witty, charming side he shows to everyone

> only very few people had ever seen him crack

> what if he snaps at you and you end up hating him for it?

> when his ugly - his true - self would rear its head and chase you away

> no, you deserve someone like Daichi, stable, reliable… good.

> he gets dressed, shoulders his bag and leaves the showers

> the sky is clear

> plenty of stars dotting the night

> his breath forms little clouds in front of him and he takes a deep breath of winter air

> then he spots you

> you are standing alone up by the club room, leaning on the railing, looking up at the stars

> without thinking he is already on his way up the stairs, his steps slowing the closer he gets to you

> he sets down his bag and shrugs off his jacket, gently laying it over your shoulders, you’re only wearing a sweater after all

> Oikawa turns and leans with his back against the railing, arms crossed, staring at his shoes

> “What happened?”, he asks, not quite sure which event he is exactly referring to - your injury or your alone time with Daichi

> after a small pause you tell him

> “It was in the first varsity tournament. I ran after a failed receive and couldn’t stop in time before … before hitting the wall.”

> Oikawa doesn’t say anything, he continues to stare at his shoes

> “I didn’t want to miss the game, I didn’t tell the trainer how bad it actually was… I was greedy and selfish. I wanted to play so badly. So… I lied and went back on the field, only making it worse.”

> you take a deep breath, steadying your voice again, before going on, “The doctor said it would take 6 to 8 weeks to heal. It’s been 10 weeks since then and I’m still in pain - too much pain to ignore.”

> when he hears your breath hitch again he looks up and sees new tears rolling down your cheeks

> and he pulls you into a hug, careful not to put pressure on your left side but hugging you closely on the right

> your face is pressed against his shoulder and he almost curls around you when he feels you returning his hug

> you fit so perfectly into him

> he still doesn‘t say anything, he just lets you cry, not planning to let go any time soon

> Oikawa doesn’t know how long he has been holding you when a phone starts buzzing

> you shift in his arms and very very reluctantly he lets go

> “It’s Saeko-san. I should really get going.”

> you pull his jacket off and hand it back to him

> “Thank you.”, and he watches you leave

#haikyuu x chubby reader #oikawa x chubby reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu oikawa #hq oikawa #chubby reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x curvy reader

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9w1ft · 5 months ago

Note

i wanna be LSK but… //

I’m so sorry anon, but I personally find it really funny when people hear the songs where taylor is working through her feelings of being betrayed by Scott B and attribute them to karlie instead.

It’s like finding a man holding a gun standing over a dead body and saying, hang on a minute… what if the real murderer is the victim’s gf… because two of her friends liked a gossipy tweet written by a known shit-stirrer!

that is to say, we know for a fact that taylor felt deeply betrayed by scott b, seeing as he’s verifiably the actual person who sold her masters to scooter, after treating taylor like family since she was very young. it’s pretty self-evident he deserves the level of vitriol in the smallest man who ever lived (besides the other descriptive details that link him to tsmwel, mtr etc).

as for taylor and karlie suddenly never being seen together again (seemingly drifting apart a whole year before the heist even happened, remember?), well she hasn’t spoken on that, so naturally we read between the lines in the songs to find out. some people have taken the masters heist songs to be about karlie, and ran with that. but others see karlie and taylor’s retreat into privacy reflected in songs under the ‘love blackout’ theme (especially around here, you’re on a longtime kaylor blog 🙈)

love blackout = the hints taylor has put out again and again that she intentionally distanced her public image from karlie’s because it was too dangerous to carry on as openly as they had at first. 2016 election sadness themes, secret love themes, all consistent over the years. all while writing new love songs that use callbacks to the rep muse, to yail even 🥺. as if taylor’s been using all the confusion and her masterful quill of misdirection to achieve her priority of protecting karlie. not protecting karlie’s public image and clout with swifties, which she doesn’t need to maintain her success because she was always successful in her own right! no, it’s all for Karlie The Person in their secret bubble of reality. all this showmanship, you know. the great war, hello!!!! too many songs to name where the kaylor chandelier is safely out of sight, but you can still see flickers through the boarded up windows ❣️

so forgive me for having a chuckle. to any anons who sincerely🛸want to believe, I’m just throwing it out there that there are plenty of us that never found the karlie-betrayer theory convincing at all. if you take a closer look at everything, the timeline of events and all the songs since, does it really make sense? (especially when there are so many shitty men in the mix who are more obviously to blame lol)

~ if you post, thank you for facilitating this rant 9wing, I’ll get off my soapbox now xxx

yup yup

i think a lot of people are predisposed to blaming karlie and so everything becomes a sort of confirmation bias.. which partially, i would argue, was by design.. so in a sense i do not fault gaylors or others for falling into this hole. but i do sometimes feel like faulting them a tiny bit for those who never climb out of it. there’s plenty of information and clues needed to figure it out and climb out of it.

one thing i don’t like about the whole “let’s not talk about muses” discourse is while the spirit of it is supposed to be “let’s study why these songs sound gay instead of commenting taylor lyrics on these people’s instagram pages,” in practice the phrasing almost is like giving yourself permission to pass judgement on the people in taylor’s story and then never reevaluate them. people often say ~lets not talk muses that’s invasive and gross~ and conveniently refuse to adjust their perception of karlie (for example) based on what taylor is putting out there, while making convenient exceptions for any interpretation they find that works to reinforce their already negative perception of her. and then after bitching about her they’ll cover their timeline in lisa frank dolphins because apparently that’s what paradise is. i dunno. it all feels dystopian to me atp 😆

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forgottenfourr · 1 year ago

Text

i saw you in a dream - university smau

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chapter twenty two - and you are?

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a/n: ITS HERE!!!! you guys really didn't think i was going to hold it off any more, did you? HEHEHEHEHE

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yn’s pov:

you're running late to meet with chan, as usual, so here you are finding yourself sprinting to the studio at 12:59pm. at this point, you know chan is wholly used to your late arrivals. but you still feel awful about it nonetheless. you tried your best to look presentable today, at least more presentable than you have looked the past week or so. but you're pretty sure by the time you get there, all previous efforts to look nice will be completely out the window.

you didn't need to look nice for chan, but at least put together. he doesn't need to see how awful you've been doing since you ran out on him at the cafe. you are hoping that the nice outfit would distract him from the cavernous dark circles that have formed under your eyes.

you breathe a sigh of relief when you get to the building and don't see a sign of anyone around, giving you time to readjust your hair and smooth out your outfit.

the studio you and chan usually work in's door is wide open which is normally a sign that chan is in there waiting for you.

you stop for a moment a bit away from the room and take a deep breath. you haven't seen chan since you guys talked at the cafe and you've kept texting to a minimum. you're sure he's going to have questions and honestly, you weren't sure how you were going to answer them without making another person think you're insane. and this time it isn't even one of your best friends.

sure you and chan have become friends, but nothing of the sorts where you can just tell him about your recent burdens and what has been making you lose your mind more and more every day for the past 7 months until you finally snapped.

but maybe he won't ask because of that reason. you guys are just friends for convenience. that's it. and maybe he knows where the line lies and that asking anything thing more than "are you okay?" is crossing a boundary that no one has actually previously set.

it's fine. even if he does ask you'll just explain that you were... what would you say? shit. fucking shit.

"it's whatever! it's nothing!" you say to yourself and you continue to walk towards the studio.

you're silently hitting yourself in the face as you walk into the room. gaze drawn down to your hands as you step in the threshold.

"hey chan sorry i'm late," you begin speaking before moving your eyes from your hands. too embarrassed at the fact that he definitely just heard you talking to yourself.

you look up for only a second to realize that it was not in fact chan sitting in the room but someone else.

you're quick to throw your head back down and spin around before even processing anything that you have seen. sputtering out apologies.

"omg! i'm so sorry! normally my friend and i meet in this room and we were supposed to meet here today an-" you can't seem to shut the hell up.

before you can embarrass yourself any further you quickly begin walking running out the door.

you make it just past the studio next to the one you were just in before you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you to a stop.

by instinct, you whip around, mostly expecting to meet chan's face.

but instead of chan you were met with an all too familiar set of star-filled eyes and heartwarming smile. along with the white blonde hair you grew ever so fond of.

before you can say anything, the man seems to realize what he has done and quickly let go of your wrist and take a couple steps back.

you never thought you were going to see him again.

"do you-" the boy clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck.

in this moment, you can't help but let a few tears well in your eyes as you stand there staring at him with the biggest smile on your face. it was him. really him. and from the looks of it, he knows who you are too.

he looks more amazing in person than he did in your dreams, which you thought was practically impossible.

"you have them too?" you ask, hoping that asking the question would relieve some of the nerves he seems to be choking down.

you didn't think his eyes could shine any brighter, but at your words, they did.

"oh my god. it's you." he says breathlessly, almost as if he seems to think you're just an apparition that formed itself in front of him.

sudden realization seems to hit him as he is taking everything in.

"wait, are you yn?" he asks

you feel your cheeks warm as he asks that. unsure of how he knows your name and slightly terrified of what he knows about you.

you clear your throat, "would it be bad if i said yes?"

he practically jolts at your question. "oh my god no no no no no! it's fine, perfect even!"

you laugh at his state of panic. mentally taking note of how cute he looks when flustered.

"and you are?" you ask, not knowing that his response is about to probably, most definitely be one you would've never expected.

"yang jeongin"

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<<<prev masterlist next>>>

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xoxo, four <3

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thewebcomicsreview · 4 months ago

Text

Oh hey, Hamsteak 2. Looks like Vriska's...back in Alternia? In a dreambubble?

they sent the thief here in search of power; the power to escape the containment i so painstakingly set up for them

Al confirmed as the Candy narrator. Also confirmed that the black hole is "containment" for the dreambubbles and non-canon worlds, and that all the ghosts falling in wasn't an accident of fighting Lord English.

the black hole could only ever shelter them for so long, and in their haste to shrug off my protection they have opened the door to something far, far hungrier.

This panel is a callback to Karkat about to open the door to the New Universe. Where there were interrupted by Jack Noir. Vriska is interrupted by-

Yoo! It's Davepeta! Who feel into the black hole and has been conspicuously absent ever since. They're the only Ultimate who is not connected to Dirk, and in some ways the only "true" Ultimate. Interesting that Al considers them such a threat, when Davepeta has never been anything but benevolent.

Looks like it's all the sprites, in fact. Why...are there two Nannasprites? Oh god, I'm being pushed to the endless limits of my ability to remember Homestuck Lore. Is one of them pre-retcon? I do not remember.

ERISOLSPRITE: wwe'vve been here for liike a miilliion fuckiin 2wweep2. DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < actually we just got here DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < this place didnt even exist until she popped in ERISOLSPRITE: gue22 ii'll fuck my2elf.

It didn't exist until a character arrived, at which point it retroactively existed the whole time, like how a planet works.

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < does that not sound insane to you fefeta? FEFETASPRITE: 3833 < 383

What? How are Davepeta and Fefeta coexisting? That definitely doesn't make sense.

Well, logic be damned, it's apparently time for a Vriska training arc.

Gah! Talksprites! Also, Vriska enters "Hell" on page 666 of Homestuck 2, which is I think the first time this comic has aimed at any kind of Meaningful Number.

God, we are full on visual novel here. I didn't know Ren'Py could export to web, but I guess it shouldn't surprise me. I presume/hope the save option is default and won't be needed here, it's 1:30am.

Tavros is here and, much more oddly, alive. I suddenly understand jack shit.

I have no memory of Tavros ever forgiving Vriska for anything...or, for that matter, Vriska even being aware she did anything that needed to be forgiven. I presume she's just lying here, though.

This line combined with this pose is the essence of Vriska

So, Vriska's being forced to "grow as a person" and her big idea to finish her character arc is to atone for her sins by getting Tavros to take revenge on her. Vriska thinks that the secret to gaining power is getting Tavros to kill her.

I wonder where she got that idea.

But that time she refused to mind control Tavros into killing her, she wanted him to grow from it, too. Now we're past that.

I felt smart for remembering the K8LL ME bit but we're being really obvious about it now so I guess they just assumed everyone would and I'm not special :(

Oh shit. Erisol wasn't kidding.

Davepeta roleplaying being a cat who dies horribly is kind of the perfect synthesis of Dave and Nepeta. What is this music. It's very toot-y.

Oh hey a text log. How convenient. So we're trapped in a time loop, then, explicitly recreating Groundhog Day. I guess that explains the infinity hourglass on the Plot Point machine.

Vriska's having a bad couple of years.

Davepeta is "countless" cool dudes and kitty girls, which I think is the first explicit confirmation they're an Ultimate Self, though that was pretty strongly implied at least. The only Ultimate to do so without Dirk's involvement.

Stop letting me intuit things and then immediately making them clear! I don't care if it's good writing, it's making my liveblog bad!

It's so weird to compare this Davepeta to the one in Homestuck OG. There Davepeta was presented as this wise sage mentor figure who'd achieved enlightenment, and here they're much more of "Dave + Nepeta's combined silliness as one character". It's a subtle difference, but go back and read Davepeta giving this same kind of talk to Jade back in Homestuck 1. I guess that's the difficulty of a character with so little screentime in the original, they're either very limited or they feel slightly off.

Oh my fucking god, a to-be-continued select screen. Shit, that takes me back in an unexpected way.

Also, from the associated news update, "the big flash" is apparently several months away (10/25?), and I have to say they might want to be careful about overhyping it, if they have small flashes and now Ren'Py novels that are just preludes. If it's anything less than a Cascade after months and months of hype it could fall flat where a surprise [S] Enter would've popped the fanbase hard.

#Homestuck #Homestuck 2 #Homestuck 2 Liveblog

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twstunes · 1 year ago

Text

okay this isn't a tierlist it's more of a groupings list

BORING DRESS SHOES CONTAINMENT ZONE

[ Trey, Deuce, Jack, Azul, Jade, Malleus, Silver, Sebek, Trein ]

There's not much to say about most of these except that I don't like them. Yes yes they're functional and fit the personalities of those wearing them. I'll still die on the hill that plain dress shoes are more boring than they are classy >:/

Trey, Deuce, Jack, and Silver all have on penny loafers, which are about as casual as you can get while still counting as formalwear-appropriate. Azul and Jade appear to both have on plain-toe oxfords, which I'm sure they coordinated on. Malleus and Trein also seem to have some variety of oxfords, though Trein might be wearing derbies?

Sebek's in here bc I'm not quite sure what's going on with his shoes. Considering that rectangular portion on the interior sides & the fact he's in Equestrian Club, I wouldn't be surprised if they were jodhpurs? They accomplish the same visual effect as basic dress shoes, though, so in the containment zone he stays.

ZESTY DRESS SHOES

[ Riddle, Floyd, Lilia, Crowley, Crewel, Sam ]

Floyd, Lilia, and Sam make up the milder end of the zest spectrum. Floyd made his own shoes and thus gets a cool-by-default technicality. Lilia's shoes are fairly basic loafers, but the bat engraving and large golden heels are enough to nudge them under the "interesting" umbrella. Sam's shoes aren't really visible under his spats, but he remembered the crucial aesthetic detail of matching his spats w/ his gloves, so he gets a pass.

Riddle's shoes have heart-shaped cap toes and heels so chunky they might as well be wedges; both of these details perfectly fit his heart-themed and undersized ass. Crowley appears to have on derbies w/ extensive lace-patterned embellishments, which feels in-line with his love of fancy little baubles. I'd assumed Crewel was wearing saddle shoes at first glance, but now that I'm looking at them…those are full brogues, I'm pretty sure? (Good walking shoes, thus a good pick for a dog owner.)

BOOT CORNER

[ Rook, Epel ]

Rook is a hunter, and hunters need sturdy shoes that can hold up to long treks through the wilderness (or across campus). These are literally boots you could pick up at any given Tractor Supply. I personally believe Vil hates these shoes but cannot do anything to stop Rook from wearing them. He balances them out with his fancy hat, though, so maybe that's enough to placate Vil?

Epel grew up in Harveston, where I don't think it's possible to wear anything less than boots without getting frostbite most months of the year. Epel's probably been stomping around in these bad boys for A While; the tartan pattern is just unique enough to make it feel more like a hand-me-down than something Vil would buy for him.

ACTUAL SENSIBLE SHOES

[ Cater, Ace, Ruggie, Jamil, Idia, Vargas ]

Cater goes with some stylish slip-ons. They're comfy, they're convenient, and they go with most outfits. This dude would definitely wear the checkered Vans if he could.

I fully believe Ace picked out his shoes based entirely on how they looked. It worked out well in the end tho, bc they're perfect for how active he is. He and Idia are the only ones who don't change into different shoes for PE.

Ruggie, Jamil, and Vargas all have on practical, comfy sneakers, which makes sense considering they're some of the most active people on campus—Ruggie and Jamil are constantly running errands, and Vargas teaches PE all day. I like that Jamil's actually seem a little faded from use, though chances are that's just how they're supposed to look.

Idia, despite being a shut-in, at least has the good sense to put on what appear to be velcro shoes when he goes out. (Choosing velcro over laces is also maybe a safety thing? Easy to get on and off, no laces to come undone and trip over. Very important in a dorm with a lot of expensive tech!)

OUTLIERS

[ Leona, Kalim, Vil, Ortho ]

Leona is well-aware of the standard level of chaos that happens every day at NRC, but that isn't going to stop him from wearing sandals instead of something more protective. Dude wants to be comfy above all else, and frankly, I respect it. Either Crewel hasn't noticed Leona's lack of lab-safe footwear or he's given up on getting the guy to wear closed-toe shoes.

Kalim has on juttis w/ the classic curled/pointed tips. Iirc, curled, pointed tips are startlingly good at reducing the amount of sand that gets into shoes! Seeing as both his home and dorm are in desert environments, these make perfect sense for Kalim's go-to footwear.

Someone at this school full of prettyboys had to put on the heels, and Vil is the only baddie committed to fashion enough to follow through. This pair is undoubtedly custom-made—not just because that's the kind of person Vil is, but because they specifically feature Pomefiore's dorm colors.

Ortho doesn't wear shoes. That's just his body. He also doesn't walk in these bc, according to Idia, "walking is for normies." This foot design is present in all of Ortho's bodies except for his athletic gear, seeing as his athletic gear is the only one meant for walking instead of floating. (Since they're shaped kinda like pincers, I wonder if he can use them for picking things up?)

#if i don't make little charts and lists occasionally i'll die. thank u for your understanding #rip to ppl that reblogged the original version of the post fghjgf i forgot to mention the bats on lilia's shoes.....#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted rambling

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stephofromcabin12 · 3 months ago

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Any art tips for artists just starting out? I’m struggling big time to find my style 😀

Sure.

It got kinda long. Bc when have I ever been a person of few words?

There is no trick to finding your style other than drawing a lot, and setting a, more or less, loose goal. When I was young it was old school Disney and Don Bluth. That was my holy grail, ideal style. But it evolved to be something else, because that's how style works. You'll put your own twist on things, in time. But first focus on practicing and don't narrow yourself down to just one thing. You'll also probably develop multiple styles out of convenience. Sometimes I prefer the cartoony, simpified stuff. Sometimes I'm more into fully rendered pieces.

Experiment. Make bad art a lot. The more you expose yourself to the inherent let-down of sucking at something, the less it stings. The key is asking yourself why something didn't turn out right.

You can't get good at All Art at once. Start with something you're most interested in learning. Maybe it's anatomy, or gestures, or expressions, or colors. Start with that one thing and practice is with a specific goal in mind. Fx: "I want to get better at drawing faces and expressions, so I'm going to do an expression sheet of a character once a week, and do a little practice every day if I can" – That sorta thing. Everyone is different, though. My old music teacher used to say 30 minutes a day. If we couldn't do 30; 15 mins. So on. As long as you do a lil doodling every day that's still progress.

Learning art is sometimes frustratingly non-linear. Somedays I still 'forget' how to draw a certain thing I've had down since I was 14. Other days I bang out something I've always struggled with on the first try, then fail the next day. It's not a linear progression, it's a damn roller coaster. Best you can do is throw your hands up and try to enjoy the ride. The pipe line for me is usually: First attempt (sucks ass but I've learned to laugh at this stage, just throw ideas at the wall) -> getting comfortable (this is where you think to yourself you have a concept down but you really don't) -> Getting good (you start to draw with more ease, you're not having to 'remember' how you wanted something to look, it's just muscle memory by now) -> Actually having it down (and still having more growth to go. But this is where you get to look back on the comfortable phase and go: 'wow I really had a long way to go')

In fact, having fun is by far the thing that's made me progress. More than tutorials, more than fancy equipment. If I'm not having fun, I have no motivation to keep going. If it's not fun, try and make it so.

Get into the habit of stepping back (whether physically or more metaphorically) and really looking at your art often while you draw. When you add a line, or color, or background element etc. Ask yourself "Does this work?" And adjust accordingly. It seems like a lot of work at first, but eventually it becomes a natural part of the process. I don't really realise I'm doing it but most of the patreon screen recordings I have show the way I zoom in and out of the canvas constantly lol.

Make the things you want to make. Even the most self-indulgent stuff. We have a million artists already doing their thing, but we don't have you yet. Show us what you got! There's room for everything.

Get used to people expressing mild envy/annoyance when you're drawing near them. I've gotten the 'wow I wish I could draw, I can't even do a stick figure!' comment from waitresses, cabin crews, classmates I'd previously never spoken to, teachers, strangers on trainstations, etc etc etc. But! Learn to say 'Thank you' when people compliment your art.

Don't ask for critique if you don't really want it. Don't let people critique you if you didn't ask for it.

You! Don't! Need! Fancy! Equipment! Save your money and get the version of a medium that's affordable and comfortable for you. Look at Stardew Valley's creator's old setup. It's really not about how the tools are set up or the price of them. It's how you make use of them. Didn't FNAF's creator build the models in a moving car on a laptop?

Art takes time. There is no short cut to make it take less time. But the more fun you have the more it'll feel like it's faster. If you're miserable the time will drag on and on and on.

Look at a lot of art. Take in and analyse. I wish I could go back a few years and tell myself to analyse paintings I liked, rather than just going "Oh I like that! Nice!" and then moving on. Why is it good? Why does it move you? What captured your attention? Be the person at a museum leaning forwards to see the paintstrokes, you learn more that way.

Don't feel ashamed if you want to take inspiration from others. Everyone takes inspiration from somewhere. If you see something cool another artist is doing with their rendering or lighting or whatever, try and do a drawing or two emulating it! Maybe you'll discover a new favorite technique, or you'll not really jam with it. Either is good. Both teach you something.

You'll go through more eras than Taylor Swift. Sometimes you gotta do a lil Eras Tour of your own and go back through the catalogue. I'm currently working on reviving several projects I made when I was 13-14. Keep everything. Don't delete; archive.

Get good storage. Like, seriously, wish for a harddrive your next birthday or christmas or whatever. If you're working traditionally wish for some good ringbinders and the good plastic sleeves. Much nicer than running out of storage and having to delete things. Never delete!

You are already an artist. You became one the second you picked up a pen and put it to paper, and then decided to keep going with that. So don't compare yourself. When you find yourself jealous of someone, it's because they have something you want. Figure out what it is, and make it for yourself.

Deadass? Tracing helps so much with learning forms. But it's only helpful when you also practice drawing the same things freehand.

The trick to coloring is just that everything looks good shaded with purple set to multiply, and that if you're ever in doubt go in an L shape on color wheel. Down in brightness, inwards in saturation.

People who say you can never use white or black in drawings are jerks and you should not listen to them. You can do literally everything you want. Sure, experiment with other ways of using white and black. But art advice is just that: It's an option, not gospel. As a wise prophet of our time, Justin Bieber, once said: Never say never.

People will say you should be your own biggest critic. But fuck that. Be your own biggest cheerleader. Love what you make, even when you hate it, find something that works. That stepping back I mentioned in point 6? Sometimes that's zooming out and saying "Damn! That looks really good!" – People will often make art out to be something that should be suffering and painstaking. It's not though. In my honest experience, I've made just as much good art when I was happy and content, as I did when I had severe depression and anxiety and burnout. You're not an artist because you suffer. You're an artist because you can't just sit in that suffering all the time. You know there's beauty besides your pain, and so you'll remind yourself in the act of creation that there is always something more.

Once you realise you have the power to draw truly anything, you'll start having a lot more fun. "Oh but I've never done it before" or "Oh I tried and it just didn't work" Okay. So?

In case of frustration to the point of throwing your art supplies out the window: Take a breath. Go for a walk. Sometimes it's just not your day. Sometimes the rollercoaster gets stuck in the middle of a loop or right at the top of a hill. Wait it out. Try again.

You have absolutely got this. Let me know if there's anything else I can help with.

#asks and answers #art advice #ames rambles

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follow-the-white-loth-cat · 2 years ago

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I saw a Star Wars argument on Reddit (I know, off to a great start) where one of the things people were complaining about is that Thrawn isn't actually smart in Rebels - he's just the only one with common sense. I can understand why this is disappointing if you've read more Thrawn literature. But apart from the fact that Rebels is written with a younger audience in mind, I think it's actually the point.

Andor and Rebels really portray a biting image of the average Imperial officer - and by that I mean they're pretty stupid. Does it conveniently help the Ghost Crew get out of sticky situations? Did it help Cinta find the plant on Ferrix? Sure, but I think the point is actually to demonstrate what type of officers and officials the Empire encourages. They don't want officers who exercise common sense or logic; they don't want creative thought; they certainly don't want decision-makers who think for themselves.

Tyranny requires constant control over the population - but it also requires constant control over your own people. If every officer was taught to be like Thrawn, to analyze art and psychology and consider cultural context, a lot of them wouldn't be Imperials.

The "wiping the taste of Aldhani out" line really demonstrates that Palapatine's goal is still not for "his people" to rule the galaxy, it's for him to rule. Although officers like Thrawn and Dedra are crucial to the functioning of the Empire, it's a deep institutional force to get and retain officers who 1) will be deeply, deeply cruel and/or callous to the suffering of others, 2) will follow any orders in the hope of working their way up the ranks, and 3) are usually not the best independent thinkers. Contrast this with the Imperial propaganda machine that says they are recruiting the "best and brightest", and now you have a workforce with a major ego without any of the skills to back it up.

The reason Thrawn and Dedra are different is because they had to fight for their position - they were not naturally privileged in the Empire's system as an alien and a woman from a lower-status former job. Sabine was probably being groomed for a similar role, but like many of the actual "best and brightest" she left. Note too how Kallus becomes remarkably more competent and effective as soon as he divorces himself from the Imperial thought machine. The Empire lives because of the people who crawl their way to the top but would never, ever admit it because then the facade used to prop up the foundation of the Empire (people like Syril) would collapse.

#united states who #it's not like our empire is doing the same thing or anything #rebellions are built on hope #empires are built on ego #star wars andor #andor #dedra meero #grand admiral thrawn #syril karn #star wars rebels #ghost crew #emperor palpatine #sabine wren

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deadzonedenizen · 4 months ago

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Any fun facts about Bell,Alix,Rasmus,and Gibby?

I'm shaking rn, why didn't I see this earlier-

Okayokayokay-

*clears throat*

Bell:

-His name is short for Bellamy. (Rasmus' idea) The nickname came first. (Tang's idea)

-The stuff he consumes is...questionable. MK and Mei constantly bet on what Bell drinks that morning, and whether or not it's matcha or battery acid.

-Bell lives with Sandy, so the others joke about him being a feral stray Sandy added into his collection of therapy cats. (Even though it's him that needs therapy)

-Despite his own questionable food cravings, Bell is a pretty good cook and baker. Unlike Pigsy though, he doesn't perform as well in a professional setting. Bell does it purely to unwind. Also he's a fan of Chang'e, no surprises there.

-Bell likes exploring abandoned places! It's been something he had been doing ever since he was young. He'd even pack his bag full of convenience store snacks for the trip. Sometimes he finds papers of family recipes in some decrepit houses, and would try to replicate them himself.

-Bell has this weird tendency that makes him unable to go anywhere without wearing something with pockets. Either his hands are in the pockets, or they're holding something like Gibby's flutes. He feels weird if his hands are just dangling out. Similarly, he feels weird walking barefoot inside (how un-Asian of him!) and walk with socks on instead.

-If he can't keep his hands occupied, he'd try to shake it off by crocheting little clowns for Gibby, carving linoleum stamps to fill space on his sketchbook with, or whatever creative outlet he can use with the materials available. (He prefers painting, but cleaning the resulting goliath of a mess isn't worth it, so he only does it in whatever abandoned place is nearest.)

-He usually makes Ronghua flowers instead, since it just so happens that silk and metal wires are the cheapest things he can buy in the handicraft store. Not like he can garden actual flowers without them dying anyway. So many chia pets have lost their lives to him.

-Recent events have left him physically allergic to the word 'd*stiny'. Instead, he refers to it as 'the D-slur'.

-The first time Wukong met him, he called him Blue Son. MK and Mei never stopped teasing him with that name ever since. But if we're talking about the first person he met in Megapolis in general, then it's Mei, who then proceeded to knock him out by throwing a pair of pliers straight to his face.

-Bell is pretty much the back-up hero by day, but is the one patrolling at night. Unlike MK or Mei, he keeps his identity a secret for privacy's sake. He does enjoy seeing people lose their minds on the internet when it comes to theorizing about his identity, and even spread false rumors from alt-accounts just to further stir the pot.

-Don't let Bell drive. Don't ever let Bell drive. It should be illegal to leave him unattended in a room with anything that has wheels without supervision from a responsible adult. (Tang does not qualify as a responsible adult.)

-Bell can't sleep without a pillow to cling on. He is touch-starved, your honor.

-He's deathly scared of bigger birds like eagles and owls (lmao Peng). The only exceptions are pelicans because of how goofy they are. Pelicans have Bell's upmost respect.

-Bell is a theater kid, specifically the musical breed. He can't actually act out non-song dialogue onstage because he's prone to forgetting his lines. Lyrics are just easier to memorize than spoken dialogue for him, so he doesn't have any interest in actual acting. He's good at ad-libbing though, and can definitely sing, while knowing how to play Gibby's flutes and the piano to boot.

Alix:

-Alix' thing is makeup, but more specifically sfx makeup. It all started when one of her brothers used to jumpscare her, so she practiced using sfx gore makeup to jumpscare him back. (She still does that)

-Being a makeup artist isn't her exact main goal. Really, she wants to be a horror movie director one day. She already has an analog horror series in the works, even though it still needs some polishing.

-She also has a podcast channel about true crime, urban legends, and lost media, surprise surprise. Though she prefers to stay anonymous by wearing a fox mask.

-Her birthday is in Halloween, so she likes spooks in general! It gives her an excuse to dress up in costumes and look like a cosplayer without seeming out of place. She was definitely a creepypasta kid.

-Biologically, Alix is more Huli Jing. But she inherited more of her abilities from her mother's side. Lots of butterflies.

-Alix is recovering from a crippling bubblegum addiction. Most of her childhood and teen years was spent on her chewing gum. Occasionally, she'd experience bubblegum relapses and end up taking a piece without even realizing...until the vendor yells at her for not paying.

-She's somewhat interested in candy making in general. Once, she made a lollipop that would stain someone's lips for a long enough time that it made for a lip tint substitute. It became popular in her old elementary because of students being banned from actual lip tint. But when it comes to snacks in general, she's a sucker for tanghulu. Her handle is literally Tanghulu_Queen.

-She has a little online side gig with custom phone cases and keychains! She doesn't have that many people ordering, but it's decent enough for a side gig.

-She was in the commentary community before, but left after realizing that the toxicity wasn't worth it. It sometimes still shows when she's criticizing something.

-Her commentary phase was a byproduct of her mean girl era. Her old school's overall competitiveness fed into that, which Alix grew out of after graduating. She still tries to apologize to any of her old classmates that she come across.

-Alix doesn't just use makeup to make fake wounds, but also hide real ones as well. Bruises anyway, makeup on open wounds aren't a good idea. It's not the proudest thing she does, but sometimes a villain attack in the city ends up with her getting some bruises, and she doesn't want her parents to go back to having a bodyguard stalk her all of the time.

-Alix is the living example of a person's aesthetic not matching her playlist. Her playlist mostly consists of Sabaton.

-Alix also had a sporty streak in gymnastics, but quit after another competitor sabotaged her equipment during a competition, resulting in a leg injury that required her to be hospitalized.

-She likes koi. Growing up, she loved going to places with koi ponds. But ever since her parents caught her with a koi fish in her mouth, they never let her near a koi pond unsupervised ever since.

-She's a huge workaholic, to the point that she works to distract herself from anything bothering her. That usually comes with good results with her efforts, but also the added pressure to keep it that way.

Rasmus:

-His real name is Rashmil Ranganathan. Erasmus and Rasmus are both just nicknames he got from his social media handle, Raspberry_Mousse. His Chinese name is Lan Muyang for convenience, but Megapolitans call him Rasmus anyway.

-He's Indian, but his mother's side of the family is part of the ten percent Indian population in Martinique! It's his father's side who's actually from India. He favors his mom's side of the family over his dad's though. Anyone would, if the latter constantly talked about them lagging behind while being compared to their cousins.

-His host family in his gap year in China is actually Bai He's, and she is the reason why Rasmus has memorized the extensive lore of Studio Ghibli films and the magical girl genre. So he basically doubles as her babysitter. Bai He would stir up all sorts of trouble, and Rasmus would just wave it off as a typical child's behavior.

-When designing an outfit, he tends to gravitate towards more traditional wear with a modern touch. It's why he takes cultural research seriously, to avoid appropriating any with his works. He takes advantage of his role as a junior photojournalist to consult artisans from those cultures, while also photographing their works to share it to the world. Whether in his socials, or the magazine he works for.

-It was actually something he did before he aimed for the fashion industry! His investigative streak had to come from somewhere. He was the former head editor of his school magazine, in an international school full of students from different backgrounds. It was actually how he met Alix who was an exchange student at the time, for a Chinese section of the magazine.

-Speaking of Alix, while under the apprenticeship of her parent Mx. Zixin, Rasmus is currently more of a tailor than a designer. So it's part of the job to take measurements from usually high profile personalities, given they can afford a custom outfit straight from the brand. This also means he sometimes ends up eavesdropping on private conversations that he wouldn't have heard otherwise.

-He's one of those types of people that like putting whatever herbs he can in his ice cubes. Mostly just because he can. It's not even for drinks most of the time, he just straight up munches on them.

-He has something called maladaptive daydreaming. Basically he daydreams a lot that he tends to tune out reality to the point of it being a hindrance in his day-to-day life. His triggers especially include music and the fantasy novels he reads. He can't guarantee that he'll read every book recommended to him though. He has an unread stack of shame that he keeps hidden for a reason.

-Rasmus sometimes pulls out the 'it's part of our culture back home' card whenever he does some questionable stuff. Alix can see through that, but gave up trying to stop him. She knows that he just wanted to mess with people. Yes, even his accent is somewhat fake. Well, the accent is real, but the speech patterns aren't.

-He's not just knowledgeable in a lot of health facts, but is incredibly good at first aid, and the necessary procedures needed for most emergency situations. His mom may be a surgeon, but if he had to be in the med field, he's better suited as a paramedic.

-When he came out as pansexual to his parents, they pretended to be surprised.

-Magpies love him. His hair is their nest. At first, it annoyed him because of how much time he puts on keeping his hair neat, and had to result to using citrus oil to repel them... only to find out it's too strong for his nose as well.

-He has this tendency to silently approach someone from behind, catching the person off-guard as if he just teleported. Everyone agrees that someone needs to put a bell on him.

-Rasmus is also pretty good at floriography, or the language of flowers. He can give someone a bouquet to insult them and their ancestors and they would never know.

-Rasmus doesn't have many strong opinions. But prepare for an hour long rant about fast fashion, toxic trends, and unethical practices when you bring up Shein and the like.

Gibby:

-Her full name, Long-armed Gibbon, isn't really a lie. There's just some shapeshifting shenanigans involved.

-Gibby hatched from a pearl! Once, she was but a pearl in an oyster sitting on the seafloor. There's more to Gibby's birth than that, but that'll have to stay under the wraps for now.

-Her gimmick is sand/stardust. Her clones are made of the stuff, after all. Anyone that inhales it immediately falls asleep. This is... also probably a good time to mention she can travel through dreams.

-Remember the secret base Sandy made out of pillows? It didn't go to waste, don't worry. It's been moved inside, where it is now Gibby territory. Her most frequent visitor is a Siamese kitten named Gibby Jr.

-She gets the zoomies at times, which means the gang has to deal with what is basically a comet bouncing off the walls. Not fun for anyone involved. She does make a squeaky noise every impact though.

-One of Gibby's biggest gripes with being tethered to Bell is that she can't write shipping charts and dirty fanfics about her friends. Bear in mind that her definition of dirty is holding hands.

-She hates hats. But really, that's only because they stop her from perching herself on someone's head.

-She loves durian! Although the smell might be hard to ignore, but she couldn't care less. It's better than that one time she ate a kidney stone (Don't ask). She hates jackfruit though, seeing it as the lesser durian.

-She hates it when immortals, demon or celestial, make comments about her wasting her potential. She couldn't grapple their reasoning that she should make a huge name for herself just because she was born powerful. She just wants to have fun, and having all of those responsibilities sound boring.

-She likes chalk! Drawing with them, and eating them. She's envious of her friends' drawing abilities, Wukong and MK's especially, but she doesn't realize how good she is at chalk, not understanding that it's an art medium too.

-Statues, mannequins, wax figurines, and the likes scare her to death. She couldn't understand how a non-living thing can resemble a living person so much, and it scares her to think that it can move whenever she's not looking.

-Gibby actually had a mentor in the past, in the form of Nezha's brother, Muzha. Long story short, Gibby lost control of her powers. But before the Celestial Realm could punish her, Guanyin instead offered to have one of her disciples train her to better control them.

-Where Wukong is See No Evil, and Macaque is Hear No Evil, Gibby is Speak No Evil. One ability she has allows her to mimic a past conversation that took place in the area she's in, with the accuracy down to voice. She's also a horrible liar, and uses technical truths if confronted by an enemy.

-Gibby is talented in many instruments. Just some of them include her flutes, the pipa, the accordion, the pan pipes, and the kalimba. But no matter the instrument, wild animals tend to be attracted to the music she makes.

-She likes animals, but especially bugs. She once went into a pet store with Bell and was completely fixated on an ant farm the entire time. Though if she had to pick a favorite, it's definitely fireflies. Her earliest memories on the Mortal Realm include chasing fireflies in a field.

Bonus facts!

-Bell, Alix, and Rasmus' trio name is the Lush Berry Trio! Why? Let's just say, Lush Berry Jungle is an important location in THE LORE™️.

-Bell and Gibby's duo name is the SeaMonkey duo! I know Gibby's an ape, but shush. I have my reasons.

-Rasmus and Alix's duo name is the Cosmopolitan duo, like the magazine. The blanks fill themselves lmao.

-Bell and Alix sometimes trade each other's unused clothes. They started doing it after finding out they're the same size when Rasmus was taking their measurements.

#lego monkie kid #lmk #monkie kid #lego monkie kid oc #lmk oc #monkie kid oc #ask #sunken secrets

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piganatur · 2 years ago

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THE EIGHTH SENSE EP 4

The repetitive and varying emotions prior to a relationship are always sour or sweet (不问三九)

oh boy, soooo ep 4 huh? We start to deep dive into the nitty-gritty of the leads’ minds and I’m all for it.

Jaewon tackling his feelings at his therapy session? Openly and candidly saying all his concerns while his therapist tells him you don’t have to be loved by everyone? The sheer force of this shot with the triangle of the fish tank behind him, the reflections of the metal balls before him and the sculpture of a head with its eyes and ears covered at his side? majestic Jaewon is teetering on the border of his fears and the truth all the while the outside world won’t notice or listen (no one knows this Jaewon, the one sitting on the couch in the office) but thanks to the reflection of the balls on the table he can see all three sides (also, out of the three balls one is glass, so it’s transparent, something that won't remind him, that lets him off the hook, something that he could fill with whatever he wants)

I’m ecstatic that most interactions that propel our leads to go forward, that affirm and reinforce the truths they have to hear and accept, are coming from women. Women have a crucial part in the eighth sense. They aren’t in the show just to be annoying or to be the punchline to some stereotype (I also love that none of them is related to the leads, yet they’re handled with care). All these female characters are fleshed-out individuals, integrated into the plot so deeply and seamlessly. I could sing odes about Yoonwon, or sajangnim or Aeri but let’s take Eunji for example, she’s not bitchy because she’s a woman but because she’s the ex (and also a brat). Jaewon was right, she really needs to learn some basic manners, I was waiting for the moment the two girls accompanying her to the bar would just stand up and leave that mess lmao. I also feel like Jaewon not only does what’s expected of him but what seems the most convenient bc at this point I honestly can’t get my head around why else he’d ever date Eunji. (Jaewon said they dated for about 2 years while the mandatory enlistment service is between 18-22 months. If they broke up around the middle of Jaewon’s service so at least 9 months(?) after he enlisted, and they had a period of some (썸 fling) before officially dating, then how long were they actually in a relationship?)

Now that I’m already rambling about Eunji, let’s take a look at the restaurant scene. I’ve seen people say that Jihyun should’ve stood up for himself there, but realistically speaking, there was nothing he could have done in that situation. Eunji’s not only a customer of the bar, but she’s also his sunbae in the surfing club. Did she act extremely rudely? Yes. Could’ve Jihyun done anything else but bear it? No. Even being as straightforward (or rude) as Yoonwon wouldn’t cut it, he’d have to be as rude as Shim Woojoo (shoutout to Call it love). His boss (sajangnim ily ♡) could defend Jihyun exactly because she’s the owner and she’s older, what she said can’t be considered rude. And look at that, Eunji didn’t back down even knowing these things (more proof that she’s a brat). Jihyun acting any other way than he did would’ve been out of line big time, only stoking the fire (I’m pretty sure Eunji, being as petty as she is, somewhat anticipated just that). His strength thus lies in his kindness and patience and the fact he didn’t let Eunnji’s bullshit about Jaewon affect their relationship (Jihyun-ah my beloved)

The blossoming relationship between Jihyun and Jaewon is a category of its own. I’ve already mentioned (in this post) the concept of being seen in the eighth sense and that goes hand in hand with showing. Jihyun doesn’t show a lot but it’s always sincere while Jaewon seemingly shows a ton but it’s a facade, something attractive but empty. This contrast, the way it gets a reaction out of them, the seeing and showing, the influence they have on e/o can be found in all of their interactions. One does or says a thing and it impacts the other to react to it, to correct their attitude or behaviour. Their run-in after Jihyun’s terrible shift is a great example. Jaewon first lies about the business he has near the dorms but nonetheless feels the need to be there for Jihyun so comforts him with his touch (his actions speak the truth) and Jihyun spills about his feelings (his words speak the truth). Jihyun’s sincerity once again demands for Jaewon to be, in turn, sincere (and he is, with his words this time). Every contact, the constant back and forth (verbal or nonverbal), the shared intimacy to be in their own world is masterful and so authentic. The two of them cloaked under the night, not as something others see during the day but as something they get to decide, the casual touches that are anything but casual bc they are a force in their own right, a wordless pull. It’s beautiful.

I won’t even try to tackle that moment in the library where for Jaewon, Jihyun is the sole source of light bc I’m unknowing and unworthy to put it into words but fortunately there are ppl out there who are knowing and worthy so read @mare-sanguis post and feel blessed (but I’m sure you already have)

One more thing and I’ll stop this long ass rambling pretending to be a review(?) analysis(?) who knows? It’s about the portrayal of romance because in so many stories of the romance genre one party does all the initiating, the chasing, and the other party is kind of passive idk? They feel good about the developments of course, but they don’t reciprocate that much, more like only accepting the advances? In the eighth sense, both parties put in the work to make this happen. However tentative, however unsure at times their participation is, they’re actively trying to romance each other. The way Jaewon is forward with his actions, Jihyun is forward with his words. It’s a give and take, testing of how well will this go? How far they can go? There’s an exchange in their shared scenes both emotionally and physically, and it makes both of their hearts flutter. Jaewon is bold yet Jihyun can make his breath stop and his head spin with one (1) art lesson by the Han River? Jaewon teases and flirts yet Jihyun asks the real questions, steering the topic to dating and defining relationships? It’s a dance where they take turns to lead depending on the situation because they both want this, because they feed into each other’s happiness.

#the eighth sense #여덟 번째 감각 #i see jihyun using his ‘arsenal of throwing out hyung’ very well #oh and taehyung #i expected nothing and was so tolerant w/ u but honestly stfu #great example of why no one should ever base a ‘friendship’ off of how much they’re forced to drink together #never have i thought i could ramble sm about a series week after week like #no im not going to write sm this time #ends up w 1k+ rant #ep rundown

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cloveroctobers · 1 year ago

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OCTOBER PROMPTS 🦇 — 10. Napoleon “Leo” Usher

A/N: where is the work for my man who’s gonna do it for me every time?! This series wasn’t my fav (better than the midnight club ofc! Argue amongst yourselves) but everything was executed very well! EAT THE RICH! Anyways I’ll probably do a re-watch at some point to appreciate it better. Look at me being back on my writing kick, someone bring me a treat and by treat I mean truffle fries. Alright this is kinda late and I usually never risk writing for any of Mike’s work but here I am. Hope this doesn’t flop but with the dust in this tag makes this very likely!! Okay ✌🏽

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & HERE + I’m using: A is afraid to get the Halloween decorations out of the attic or garage, fearing there’s bugs, which leaves B to do it. + Going to questionable lengths to decorate their house/apartment.

Synopsis: People can say a lot of things about Napoleon Usher but some may not be aware that he’s actually a homebody. However there’s a few places he doesn’t mind spending his time and that so happens to be at his best friend’s place, who also doesn’t mind actually putting him to work.

WARNINGS: Platonic x reader! language + dark themes/humor + mentions of s*ic*de + gender neutral friendly!

<- read my previous anthology prompt here.

⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️

[6 weeks before the fall…]

Second guessing.

That happened to be something that was always jammed into Rudelle Povea’s head ever since they were young. Their parents taught them to be curious when things didn’t feel right in their gut and many times that resulted in phone calls home for being, “too disruptive to others in class,” which really meant too annoying for teachers who just wanted to teach without mountains of inquires coming from this kid to being, “too smart-mouthed and a know it all for me,” from their maternal grandmother who eventually gained guardianship over Rudelle.

If something’s been instilled in you for the longest, it can become a habit—whether good or bad is always up for debate. Sure at times it made Rudelle feel as if they were being a bit indecisive but they always looked at life as one big question mark. They didn’t have to just simply take it for what was thrown at them. If they were prompted to question it all, then in a sense they were persuaded to see everything from all angles before going through with a final thought.

Rudelle wasn’t incapable of making a decision, never think that but they always needed all of the facts before going forth. For instance: take the death of Rudelle’s parents when they were only twelve years old back in the United Kingdom. Rudelle’s grandmother was not only controlling and cruel but she was also a really good liar that kept up with the tale of how Rudelle’s parents died. As if Rudelle would never get older and do a deep dive considering the career they went into as a pathologist assistant before Rudelle got laid off.

How convenient that they seemed to be laid off the further along they got into the reports of their parents’ apparent murder-suicide. Lots of sealed off information and blocked out text was enough for Rudelle to come to terms with their family constantly hiding but what exactly?There were always more questions than answers but there was no doubt in Rudelle’s mind that their grandmother had something to do with this.

A crack sounded at the window, bringing Rudelle out of their lengthy daze, spotting a black crow flying from their sight yet again. Rudelle didn’t waste any time, pulling out their phone to make note of the arrival of the same crow and exact date when it provided more damage to their window in the living room. Sighing they got to their feet, phone still in their hand as they got closer to the window, inspecting the cracks that seemed to get bigger each time.

After the sixth ring the line picked up.

“Leo, you coming ‘round?”

“…what’s in it for me?”

“Good company.”

“Is that a underlying proposition for us finally hooking up?” He sounds wide-awake now.

Rudelle snorts, “Keep on dreaming, mate.”

Rudelle doesn’t wait for a response as they end the call, knowing that when they called each other it was rarely for a chat since they could just text and send voice notes to each other. If they called each other it was usually within good reason—although it was a fact that Rudelle Povea and Napoleon Usher lived slightly different lifestyles.

It was about half an hour later when Napoleon shows up to Rudelle’s apartment, barely appearing, almost as if he was struggling to hold himself upright against the door.

Rudelle snickers at the dark attire and their friend’s appearance, “I’m surprised you didn’t use your key this time, why the long face? Did I ruin the post party?”

Napoleon rolls his eyes as he shoves his way inside the familiar apartment. He’s kicking off his shoes in the foyer and heads to the right to dive face first into the beige couch.

Rudelle closed the door behind the man and heads to where he is and squats beside him, “So…”

“No! I don’t want to take your fucking quiz, let me sleep.”

“I wasn’t going to ask any more about your night because I can just tell how it went,” Rudelle responds before adding, “I actually saw that crow again—

Napoleon lifts his chin to glance towards the window and sighs, “Where’s the maintenance manager when you need them? You do have that here in this unpleasant building, yeah?”

“I don’t care about the window.”

He blinks hard at Rudelle, “well you should, love. There’s what? Three cracks now and if you don’t know, they can spread and who knows what else will get into this building once the window finally decides to give way?”

“Your concern is sweet.” Rudelle’s reply is sarcastic.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Buuut! This is the crow’s third time doing that and it’s got me thinking.” Rudelle plops down on the floor, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Let me guess? About you fantasizing about being Brandon Lee’s eternal lover.” Napoleon mumbles—as if he hasn’t heard this before.

Rudelle’s been going on about this crow for a few weeks now and, “the Crow,” (1994) happened to be one of their favorite movies. The thing about Rudelle is that they always tried to find meaning and symbolism for everything. They honestly should have went into literature. Napoleon may have half-lidded eyes right now but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t ever listening. He’s known Rudelle for years, before Roderick came around and molded him into a Usher. They’ve always had a hunch for something and Rudelle wasn’t wrong about Napoleon’s father so who’s to say they would be wrong about this crow?

“No Leo…this time I’m thinking about decorating.”

Napoleon sighs as a smile appears on his face then, “I knew this day would come! There’s not much to work with but I’ve been saying this flat needs a makeover. It just doesn’t fit for you, you know? You’ve got personality and yet this still looks like a staged showing when we first toured this dreadful place. It’s boring and sort of stale—much like Tamerlane’s home now that I’ve come to think of it.”

“Whoa there, I don’t have nearly enough mirrors for us to match.”

“Funny,” Napoleon smirks a bit at the jab since that’s what it was. It’s not like he would ever blame his siblings for the way they all turned out and carried themselves, they had their father to thank for that but that also didn’t mean they were really loving towards each other either. They didn’t know what that felt like either and although Napoleon had his mother in his life, they drifted the moment she sent him here to meet Roderick at eighteen. The Usher siblings gave each other shit right to each others faces and behind each other’s backs.

Rudelle’s been around since before Napoleon gained the title of “being a usher,” so she’s seen it all and only threw in jabs to get a reaction from Napoleon. They knew to tread lightly, not out of fear but they still knew their lane and left that open for Leo to completely bash—if need be. However that still wasn’t in his nature to bash any of his half-siblings, he still saw something in them that they all shared…the torment conditions of being a usher maybe?

Believe it or not, he’s got some feelings about the mere thought of having siblings although they had their issues…there was still some level of respect beneath it all. This was just who they were, take it or leave it.

The world would most likely leave it.

Yes he was closer? If you want to use that term—to Camille and Perry but he was the one who wasn’t afraid to stand on how fucked this family is and always would be while the rest chose to shield that to the public eye.

“Which space are you thinking of first? This living room should be it since it’s the second focal point of this flat. And please don’t tell me you’re going for wallpaper? This is not the bloody 1920’s.” Napoleon spoke, resting his cheek against the back of his hand.

Rudelle shook their head, “I’m not really talking about renovations Leo. The crow’s got me thinking about Halloween decorations…which are down in the basement.”

Leo sits up instead and opens his mouth ready to respond until something catches his eyes on the coffee table. He leans over to snatch the files up, already sensing what they were before his eyes briefly scanned over them. “Ru! You’re investigating again?!”

“Well yes but this has nothing to do with my desire to be festive this time around.”

“I can’t say I believe that,” Leo shakes his head in disapproval, “this is the same shit that got you laid off from a decent pay—for your standards and now look! You’ve gone and decided to be some sort of archivist?”

“They actually haven’t called me back about that interview so…”

“And why do you think that is?”

“My nan’s got just enough pull as daddy Roderick and Auntie Madeline?”

Leo rubs at his beard in frustration, “for fucks sake I almost threw up in my mouth just then. I told you before not to refer to Roderick as that!” He glared at Rudelle who is definitely amused, knowing that irritates him then continued on, “…That could be almost true since your nan gives shady vibes too but you can’t keep doing this.”

“Why not? I’ve got nothing else better to do.” Rudelle shrugs confused before stating, “Just your unemployed friend on a Tuesday that’s keeping busy and trying to not ride on their savings.”

Leo raised his brow, “you think cracking the case on your parents’ death is somehow gonna give you income? That’s like wishing on a lucky star babe. There’s a reason you haven’t got anywhere with this and it’s been months, yeah?!”

“They were framed for a murder they probably didn’t commit which led to their deaths…if I can fix this then I can sue this shit system for if not all it’s worth then…I’ll take half.”

The determination was clear in Leo’s best friend’s eyes. They didn’t see that it was sounding a bit deranged but they had their own facts as well and if they strongly believed this then who was Leo to stomp on it? Leo didn’t know how it felt to not have two parents around but he did know how it felt to have a emotionally sad mother raising him. His mum was kind hearted to Rudelle back when they all lived in Redbridge and it certainly wasn’t out of pity, she was kind to anyone who shared the same decency to her son.

See, Napoleon’s mum is also very observant. She knew from the moment that Napoleon and Rudelle became friends (aged fourteen) that they would be able to keep each other afloat.

They were the pieces of good—more so Rudelle on the surface—that battled the bad the world laid upon them.

“Alright then…” Napoleon trailed off glancing upwards in thought, “in the mean time, you suppose decorating for Halloween will bring you clarity?”

Rudelle shrugs, “maybe. This could be a breakthrough.”

A breakthrough to just accept the job Napoleon’s been offering them since they settled into this city back when Rudelle was twenty-one. Leo’s been into gaming since he can remember, always wanted the latest games that his mother couldn’t afford at the time just to end up with it later on mercilessly. Not really—Roderick made it his job to buy his way in and taking care of Leo financially from a distance.

Yet when those eighteen years arrived and he actually met the mysterious man who tried to buy—definitely not his love—but rather his place as a Usher…Napoleon thought he was getting a chance to build a relationship with a man he didn’t know very well…but instead he was one of the shiny pieces in Roderick’s game.

Rudelle had dreams of being a geologist until she was in custody of their grandmother. They always had that woman in their ear growing up, dictating what they should be instead of what they wanted. All kids have dreams and aspirations but along the way there’s often detours. Those detours happen to be people who only saw greed and Rudelle chose what she thought would be the better option. To do it all on her own instead of being beneath her grandmother’s claws and Leo was still affiliated business wise or not no matter what choice he made.

They were both similar in that way.

Making their own choices, thinking it would work out in their favor.

“Fuck it, let’s do it.”

“Great,” Rudelle grinned ready to get to their feet, “I’ll grab the keys for the basement and you can head down. It’s seventy-four which is in the path of almost like a S shape.”

Leo frowns as Rudelle begins to move around the apartment in search of the keys, “wait…you’re not sending me down there alone are you?”

“Yes I am.” Rudelle went through the cabinets of their white kitchen, “there’s bugs down there. I can’t—I won’t. I can still feel those ant bites from last year just speaking on it.” They trail off in thought, scratching at their collarbone, “Which is why I kept most of my decorations shoved in closets up here.”

Leo frowns, “you sure you weren’t on shrooms?”

“Oh piss off! I still got the bills to prove it.”

“So you want me? This glorious piece of ass to be a early feast for some critters? Do you hate me? Do we suddenly have a problem that I’m unaware of?”

“You just said you’re going to participate in my breakthrough? Aren’t we mates?”

“Mates don’t set up mates!”

Rudelle pretends to think about it, which earns them a shove from Leo while Rudelle laughs in return latching onto some keys that were tossed into a drawer.

“Fine, if you wanna hold hands just say that.”

“Are you really going to hold my hand? A taken man?”

Rudelle was tempted to throw in a, ‘Glad you remember that you actually have a boyfriend this time around, considering how many times I’ve caught you in cheating acts.’

But they refrained…only because they had this idea to get their hands on the decorations and didn’t want to do it alone. Sure Rudelle maybe grasping at straws but that holiday changed the trajectory of everything losing their parents on that Halloween night. If you believe in the supernatural…maybe just maybe they could communicate with them in some way.

“Only if you’re afraid of the dark.”

“It’s not of the dark, rather what’s in it.”

“Don’t you worry buttercup, I’ve thought of it all.” Rudelle’s patting Leo’s cheek who furrows his brows as they disappear again around their home.

Leo exhales deeply, “if you did then why am I being dragged into this?!”

“Because you’re my best friend and you can’t help but to love me back.”

“I guess…”

“What?!” Rudelle calls from somewhere in the apartment.

“I said I must confess! You know like queen Britney once said.”

“Uh huh.” Rudelle appears back in front of Leo who started peeking through their fridge.

He clasps a tatted hand to his chest, “I forgot that you’re so light on your feet, should have been a astronaut.”

“Not a chance, I think you’d miss me too much,” Rudelle winks and begins to model out the accessories they gathered for the both of them on their sudden adventure.

Leo thinks about it, taking a bite out of the cold veggie pizza and shrugs, “eh you’re probably right.”

There was no denying that Leo classified Rudelle as his only and legitimate friend who didn’t care about his nepotism. Don’t think they didn’t argue over money when his ignorance got the best of him in the beginning but it didn’t become a thing until it became a thing from time to time.

The basement in Rudelle’s building always smelled of moth balls, fresh dirt, cigarette smoke, and wet air. It wasn’t the best thing to inhale but with the city that they lived in it wasn’t anything foreign. The deeper the pair traveled through the bottom of the building, the colder it felt; even with the friends standing side by side.

Leo whispers to his left, “you look like you’re not batting on a full wicket.” Referring to Rudelle’s attire of a full hooded wetsuit, sunglasses, and a KN95 mask.

“Sounds like you’re jealous and wouldn’t be able to pull off this fit.”

“Even if I wanted to,” Leo starts doing that irritated blinking he so commonly does, “which trust me I don’t—I’d like for my balls to breathe so that’ll be a negative on the jealously part. You however still are giving very much nutbag.”

Rudelle bows, “thank you, thank you. A true star is going to war.”

“Star? Let’s not go that far with that outfit you’re wearing.”

“You should really talk to your therapist about your haterism,” Rudelle bumps Leo’s shoulder, “ready?”

“Not really,” Leo comments, “what are the sunnies for?”

“The jumping spiders.”

“The what?!” Leo stops in his tracks, “you never said a thing about that. I thought we only had to worry about the ants. Spiders are much worse than ants!”

Rudelle shushes the man from beneath their mask, “can’t turn away now, we’re not far from the decor.”

Leo is muttering away as Rudelle begins to drag the brooding man along, “you have me smelling like a old man who has back spasms on a daily with this lavender and eucalyptus oil. You better be lucky that I like you.”

“Oh what ever would I do if a usher despised little ol’ me?” Rudelle pouts beneath their mask.

“More like, what would you do without me?” Leo mentioned as they traveled the s path to the storage room.

You know that eerie feeling you have when it feels like someone is watching you from the corner of a room or standing over you as you sleep? It’s one of the reasons why Rudelle sleeps with the covers completely over their face. It’s also one of the reasons why Leo was more of a side sleeper than any other position—unless he was up to something else that is. That same feeling was creeping up the nape of Leo’s neck although his hoodie was tightened to his head.

As the friends take what feels like slow steps closer to the storage, there’s a tapping feeling that falls upon Leo’s right shoulder. It’s instant that he whips his head to his left to where Rudelle once stood but they’re actually up ahead, unlocking the first gates to the storage room.

“Did you feel that?” Leo calls out, while looking behind him at the path in which they came.

The creaking of the gate is followed before Rudelle says anything, “depends what was felt.”

Leo isn’t sure if he likes that response, “what do you mean?”

“I’m not the only tenant that doesn’t like coming down here.” Rudelle says, “come on then, don’t be afraid.”

“I’d actually feel quite better if I had my Mjölnir.”

“You’ve got me, babe?” Rudelle grins over at Leo who snorts as he cautiously approaches them.

Leo stands at the entrance of the gate while Rudelle is already inside, “is that supposed to be comforting?”

“Sonny and Cher think so.” Rudelle winks over at Leo who shakes his head at that.

“Cute but not really my style of music.”

“Don’t I know it Mr. Hangs out at cracked out pubs for fun.”

“Definitely not my kinda party either.” Leo steps inside the gate while Rudelle searches for their storage, trying to recollect which side it was actually on.

Rudelle let’s out a cackle at that. They remembered a time when a tattoo-less glasses wearing Leo was afraid to try a spliff back in the day and now look at him, the main party man out of the duo.

Leo let’s put a whistle as he walks down the aisle of gated storages that seemed to be collecting dust on top of their piled up items. “This isn’t so bad although most of you may have a hoarding problem.”

With those words lingering in the air, the main gate behind them seems to slam shut behind them making both Rudelle and Leo’s heads turn back to the entrance.

“Don’t tell me—

Rudelle shakes their head in disapproval, “I told you to use the brick to keep it open!”

“When did you say that?!” Leo exasperates, hands thrown up in the air.

“Back when you said someone tapped on your shoulder.”

Leo rests his clasped hands on top of his hood as he gulped, “I—I never told you that.”

“Yes you did.”

“No! No I didn’t, Ru!” Leo felt unsettled, “I only asked if you felt it but never elaborated to what it was.”

Rudelle hums at this.

They could have sworn they heard Leo explaining that to them? There were reasons why the tenants on Sycapine hardly ever came this far down in the building. Things that couldn’t be explained, much like what the two best friends were experiencing. Leo would later brush this off not bothering to connect what he encountered with Ru as similar incidents his own family would face but way more extreme.

“Well…might as well stay awhile. We got nothing else better to do, since you just locked us in.” Rudelle unlocks their storage section, holding eye contact with a very annoyed Leo.

Leo points, “I didn’t do anything! You thought you could suddenly telepathically tell me shit for real this time?!”

It wouldn’t be Rudelle’s first time.

“You’re the one who said someone tapped on your shoulder, so clearly you’re the one who failed at telepathy.”

Leo felt his eye twitch, “I knew I should have stayed home.”

“Whatever,” Rudelle says kicking a box towards the dark haired man, “pop a squat buddy, you’re not going anywhere.”

Leo kicks back at the box and rushes over to the gate to rattle against it, thinking that would apparently get it to unlock. Slipping their hand against the padlock, he couldn’t angle his wrist just right to pad any numbers in and the extra stab was seeing a brick right across the gate, almost mocking Leo with bright green eyes while the hallway went black for a good two seconds, demanding that Leo witness the disturbing image.

The after effects of a party never had Leo like this before.

There’s another touch but it’s a pinch this time that sends him snatching his hand back through the gaps in the gate. Holding onto his skin he examines it to see that there’s no damage only tricks playing on his mind?

He glances back at Rudelle who comes back out shoving a heavy box out of their storage.

Leo finds a spot on the lighter box Rudelle previously kicked his way, keeping quiet until they come back with yet another box to sit across from Leo. He tilts his gaze sideways to read the text, “HALLOWEEN,” on the brown box.

“You owe me big time for this.”

Rudelle dips their head, “cross my heart—

“Don’t finish that sentence!” Leo shushes his friend while peering around, “never made any sense to me anyway. Who the fuck hopes to die?!”

“Relax babes, the yelling.” Rudelle curls a finger against their ear.

“Sorry are my frustrations bothering you?”

“No but you acting like a dickhead is.”

“How are you being so calm about this?”

“Normally I wouldn’t be but things are happening too much for this to be a coincidence so I’m looking at this as another perspective. This all could be my parents’ doing. Thus! The breakthrough.” Rudelle taps on their temple.

“If you say breakthrough one more time,” Leo warns, “you’re good at second guessing yourself and believing whatever your brain tells you to but has it occurred to you that this could all be the devil?”

Rudelle says, “and here I thought you weren’t religious.”

“I didn’t put a label on anything, it’s not really my thing but one thing I know is evil. And what I feel down here is not necessarily kind. Are you sure you wanna fuck with that more with these decorations?” Leo leaned his elbows into his knees.

Rudelle sighs, “can you definitely say that? And not just blame it on anxiety?”

“Would you say the same with the crows? I mean that is the whole reason why we’re down here.”

Rudelle is silent at this for awhile and Leo can see the wheels turning but he’s not the most patient.

“I’m convinced it’s something else.” Rudelle exhales, “I know this building better since I did the research before moving in.”

“Do I wanna know that history?”

Rudelle lightly shakes their head, “I’ll keep it to myself…otherwise you might burst a blood vessel and I feel better having you focused rather than pissed.”

“fucking hell! I don’t like it when you keep secrets.”

“I know!” Rudelle yells back, “but this is an itch that I can finally scratch and I just need the support.”

Leo rubbed at his face, digging the palms into his tired eyes. He understood, of course he understood, he just didn’t exactly enjoy things that go bump in the night.

Never did but being the kind of friend that he is, he would get his point across—even if you didn’t like it but still find a way to be what you needed.

“Fine,” Leo holds out his hand which Rudelle smiled at before quickly tapping the back of their hands together before moving into a smoking motion, pointer and thumb pressed together as they pressed a kiss there before pulling away to exhale the bad into the air, “one love.”

“Always.”

Leo’s smile quickly vanished, “Just know…”

“Ah, here we go.”

“I’ll fucking haunt you if I go first.”

“Way to ruin the moment, Leon.” Rudelle rolls their eyes, “there’s answers in here somewhere.”

Leo feels he’s holding his breath as Rudelle begins to reach for the flaps of the brown box. He’s not sure what could be so off-putting by Halloween decorations and if these would be the usual kind? He personally wasn’t the biggest fan of Halloween as he didn’t enjoy being spooked since that tended to make things difficult for him.

‘Yes there are…but are they the answers they want?’ A feminine voice belonging to the entity named Vera, who hasn’t fully introduced themselves yet speaks above the long time friend’s heads but she doesn’t show herself.

She lingers in the shadows for now but she’s never far. So she watches on as the box becomes open, four flaps folded back as Rudelle takes a large inhale, peeking at Leo who holds their stare.

Unbeknownst to them, the gate behind Leo quietly unlocks and leaves the door ajar.

⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️

Continue along with my fall anthology prompts here.

#queued #tfothou #tfothou netflix #the fall of the house of usher #Netflix #rahul kohli #rahul kohli x reader #Napoleon usher #Napoleon usher x reader #leo usher #Leo usher x reader #fall prompts #Spotify

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