#anyway I need a break from everything ever
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thesomebodywho · 6 hours ago
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Let's break this down. Pink: Absolutely fantastic, I hate wasting about 1/3 of my life unconcious. No downsides either because not needing sleep, in my opinion, means that you could still sleep if you wanted to.
Orange: This is great. I assume this also includes understanding the language and speaking is just used as a term for proficiency in general. Obiviously you could communicate with anyone anywhere in the world fluently becoming the world's best translator. Additionally you would probably be able to speak dead languages, meaning that historians and archeologists everywhere would rejoice. Last but not least, assuming any extraterrestial entities communicate via language you could speak to aliens if you ever happen upon one.
Green: Pretty mundane all things considered. This is just a super power many people have in general and I am most likely allergic to cats anyway. Although because the description refers to felines, you would also be pretty popular with big cats. You would never have to worry about getting eaten by for example a lion or a tiger. (Assuming that they like you on an emotional level and not gastronomically.)
Blue: This is a good one. Being able to at will record anything into your memory would help whenever you need to study. The younger you are the better this is because the need of studying and memorizing decreases as you get older. The "at will" part is also important because you need to be careful not to accidentally record anything traumatic. Purple: Free eco-friendly air travel!? This creates a great combo with orange because you can just take a trip to any country with an airport and have a fantastic time communications wise. You could also, for example, go buy groceries in a country where food is cheap or fresh. Assuming this is magic and violates the laws of thermodynamics and physics in general this would be absolutely cracked. Just build an airport high up, make a big coil below the airport, and fall through it repeatedly with a strong magnet. (Of course this relies on the assumption that the potion would recognize your new airport as an airport.) Grey: Overall pretty mid. Sure you could pretty much eat anything taste-wise. Healthy foods would be pretty easy to choose and you would never have to worry about not liking your friends' cooking. Maybe this could push you to go vegan if everything tasted like steaks, pizza and burgers. The issue is that all of these problems have mundane solutions. Healthy food could already taste good but you're skimping on the spices and seasonings. Jus add a pinch of the good old salt and pepper on your salad and would you look at that, it tastes miles better. If your friend cooks food and you don't really like it, just tell them. There are a million ways to tell someone that the food was not really your thing especially because most often it's not the fault of the chef, but the recipe. I myself am not vegan but again just season your food. There's also a myriad of vegan alternatives to meat-based products.
Red: This could actually be detrimental. Assuming your body temperature refers to the actual temperature of the physical object that is your body, you would be immune to extreme heat and cold. Amaze everyone by walking in lava without catching on fire and scream in agony for the entire time because the temperature difference would still cause immense pain. Spend hours in the frozen arctic shivering but never dying of hypothermia or freezing. Seems fantastic? Here's the catch. A significant portion of the calories you consume are spent on temperature regulation. After removing this energy sink you would struggle to get the minimum amount of nutrients without gaining a ton of weight due to not using energy. Alternatively you could struggle helplessly as a nasty viral infection destroys your body from the inside, as the most effective weapon of your immune system, fever, is stripped from them. :) Wine-red: Kind of mid to be honest. If you live in an area with a ton of mosquitoes, especially ones carrying malaria, this is great. This applies to any other insect carrying any other diseases but for me personally this potion is pretty bad I've gotten used to mosquitoes. White: Seems pretty cool but the downsides are pretty severe. Congratulations on becoming King Midas of the cheese world. Creating free food anywhere you go just by kicking is pretty good and kicking something three times is pretty rare right? Forget playing football or any other sport where you kick stuff as the ball once again becomes a clump of cheese. Did you accidentally kick your computer three times while stimming? Gaming on a piece of Wensleydale could prove difficult. You playfully kicked someone for some reason? I wonder if it would be considered negligent homicide to turn someone into Edam by mistake... In an ideal world this would be super powerful due to (again) violating the laws of thermodynamics by being able to generate energy from nothing. (Just kick something with a low energy density and turn it into high energy density cheese.) Get rid of non-biodegradeables by turning them into cheese. Nuclear waste? More like Cheddar.
Yellow: Pretty good. Assuming the fairies do a good job, this would save a lot of time. I don't find chores that annoying but this would still be pretty useful.
Lime: For people who have trouble identifying emotions this would be great. Then again I'd like for it to be normal to just ask someone how they're feeling. Normalize asking for people to clarify their emotions!
Black: Practically pretty useless. Sure growing your ideal beard is great but this is worthless if you don't want a beard. You save a bit on shaving supplies assuming you even grow a beard. It would be nice to be able to grow a beard but compared to everything else on offer I would hate for vanity to be the reason I choose a mid potion.
Rankings based on personal preference:
Pink
Orange
Purple
Blue
Yellow
Wine-red
Green
Grey
Lime
White
Black
Red
Rankings on universe breaking potential:
Purple
White
Yellow (Depends on the definition of a chore.)
Pink (More time for chaos)
Everything else
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pboogerswbb · 20 hours ago
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Too Lost In You
Paige Bueckers x reader (no use of y/n)
reader is a bartender at ted’s! and had a falling out with paige after fucking on and off for months. now paige is back at ted’s, needing her again.
Warnings: SMUT! also toxic!paige and language etc. you know the drill
A/N: wrote this because i'm stubborn and competitive and that one anon (who since apologised ily lol) thought english wasn't my first language lmao. also, this COULD become a multiple part series if people want but idk, idek if i'll ever write anything else lol. but we'll see! please let me know, would love to hear you guys' thoughts :) ily. ALSO the title comes from the song Too Lost In You by Sugababes (which will be the inspo for the series if this actually becomes one). SORRY THIS IS SO LONG OMG
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“Yo I’m about to get fucked up tonight” A strong voice comes through from the bar entrance.
I would recognize that voice anywhere. Before I even lift my gaze I’m brought back to the memories of her talking into my ear mid shift, hands on my waist, soft whispers in my ear telling me how good I looked. Or the flashing images of her in my bed on top of me, sweat dripping down her back, talking me through it inbetween groans. The images I replayed over and over in my head, a lot more than I’d like to admit - more than was okay for someone who had called the whole thing off between us anyway. 
In a panic I quickly bent down to hide behind the bar, pretending that scrubbing the sticky liquor stains off the floor was of the utmost importance. All just to get away from having to serve her.
“Hey, can you get this one, I’m dying for a break” Natalie, my co-worker, says - clueless to the hiding or the cause of it. For a moment I consider faking a heart attack, throwing a glass at her, or simply screaming “no”. But her round eyes (and the fact I needed to keep this job to pay the bills) softened me. With a deep breath I nod and stand up behind the bar, as Natalie walks off. Leaving me face to face with her.
She’s standing in front of me - Paige. It had been weeks since I had seen her last, doing everything in my power to avoid her. My eyes can’t help it though when they travel from her long fingers to her veiny hands to her broad shoulders that I swear had filled out even more in the weeks I hadn’t seen her. My gaze roams over her neck and my knees almost buckle at the memory of burying my head there, leaving open mouthed kisses on her pale skin. The way it bruised and reddened. The navy blue Uconn trackies made her skin even brighter, and I swear she glowed a little. Finally, my eyes land on her bright blue eyes that are already staring at me, heavy lidded, needy even. The way they always looked when she made her way to my dorm in the middle of the night, needing me.
Her eyes widen. “Oh… didn’t know you were working today” Paige says. It’s a lie. It’s clear in the strain of her voice, the way her fingers twitch. Last time we talked I told her I never wanted to see her again. But right now as she towered over me forcing me to tilt my head up to meet her gaze, I nearly forgot why.
“Whatchu want?” I ask, ignoring her statement already instinctively reaching for the grenadine. I knew her too well to pretend anything else. My stomach twisted uncomfortably thinking about how we had left things between us.
Paige pretends to think. “Uhh… a dirty shirley.” Her words are slightly slurred. She’d already been drinking. I move my eyes away from hers, unable to take the severity of her stare. The tension is broken, however, by a very drunk KK crashing into Paige and leaning over the bar. “also shots” KK adds and nudges Paige who smiles weakly, her eyes never leaving mine. With the way she looked I might’ve thought she had missed me - but I knew better. Paige Bueckers did not yearn for any girl. Certainly not me.
I smile widely at KK. “You wanna be more specific?” I ask, making the shirley with a rehearsed ease. I had made quite a few since Paige had taken a liking to me earlier in the year, coming over to Ted’s almost every night, sitting in the corner with her teammates watching me, tipping me way too much with that smug grin of hers. It would’ve pissed me off if she wasn’t so insanely, out of this world hot.
“Anything strong” KK snorts and I let out a chuckle, reaching for the vodka. “You got it.”
I set the drinks on the counter but Paige is quick to grab hers, her fingertips pressing into mine for just a moment. I nearly whimper at the contact, seeing how Paige’s jaw flexes and cheeks blush. She felt it as much as I did, the tension from the last time we slept together.
“Thanks…” Paige murmurs uncharacteristically quiet. KK rolling her eyes and scoffing, grabs the shots for her and the team. “Bro” KK shakes her head at the interaction, leaving the blonde alone with me to pay. I try to ignore the burn between my legs, watching her long fingers shuffling through cash in her wallet. It would take a gun for me to admit I had been thinking about those fingers during lonely nights and fuck, even nights spent with other people. No matter what no one ever measured up to how those fingers knew exactly what to do, which buttons to push.
“Keep the rest, ma” Paige says, snapping me out of my daydream. My mind is too hazy to take in the nickname. I can’t get a single word out before she’s already turning away, dirty shirley in hand and a stupid grin on her face. She had got to me and she was enjoying every moment.
Paige dangled over the bar, her eyes wide and searching, finally setting on me walking out from the back. She’s pushing her blonde hair off her face with a sloppy, uncoordinated movement, clearly feeling the alcohol. I stop her before she can speak though.
“If you want another one you gotta ask Natalie, I’m off my shift,” I tell Paige, refusing to give her my attention the way I knew she wanted.
“I know, you’re off this time every week,” Paige chuckles and leans forward with her elbows on the bar. She was in a Uconn tee now, her biceps flexing. It takes all my willpower not to stare. “We should talk.”
“We really shouldn’t,” I say sternly, taking off the name tag I had been wearing. “Pretty sure I said I never wanted to talk to you again.”
“Sure and you also called me a bitch but never stopped us from fucking before either,” Paige says, a slight annoyance in her voice, preferring to have her way. She’s licking on her grenadine stained lips, chasing my gaze. I finally meet hers, ignoring the aching I felt looking at her eyes on me. I knew how this ended up unless I left. Now.
“I have class tomorrow,” i sigh, walking around the bar towards the exit and throwing on my jacket. Before I know it Paige’s hand grips my arm holding me still. I can smell her around me. Grenadine and alcohol sure, but also the scent of her. The scent I looked for everywhere. Her eyes were pleading, like I was water and she was on fire. I almost forgot why I hated her, just for a second. 
“Lemme drive you ma,” Paige pleads. 
“You can’t drive, you're drunk” I scoff, brushing her hand off of me. A feeble attempt as Paige’s free arm quickly snakes around my waist and pulls me in, her scent so strong now it’s making me dizzy.
“But I need to talk to you, been driving me crazy,” She murmurs with a slight whine in her voice. For a moment I waver, her hand firmly on the small of my back, all her height towering over me. It made my head spin.
Paige takes it as a sign and leans closer, pulling me in tighter but I place my hand on her chest holding her back, suddenly aware of how empty the bar was and how the most famous person on campus probably shouldn’t be doing this in public. I notice the way her chest is heaving, mine doing the same. The fabric of the shirt underneath my fingertips felt all sorts of wrong, I needed it off of her immediately. No, I had to be stronger than this. 
But I wasn’t.
“Do you need a ride back to campus?” I ask her and swallow. The way her tongue slides over her lower lip as she watches me forces a deep blush to set on my face. 
“Yeah, bad,” Paige murmurs and I push her hands off me, wordlessly heading to the door with Paige following close behind. She hurries past me to open the car door for me. I would think it was sweet if I didn’t know that it was just one of her plays. One of the ways she made girls like me think she actually cared. She didn’t. She just wanted to fuck.
The air is tense as I start the car, praying Paige doesn’t notice the slight tremble of my hand. I’m not sure if it’s anger or how weak her touch had made me feel. Either way I had to get rid of her fast. Paige slouches on the passenger seat, watching me with hooded eyes, leaning her head back against the seat. Her legs were spread wide apart, sweatpants pulled low enough for her the logo Nike Pros to peek out. For a second all I want to do is pull up somewhere desolate and climb on top of her - from the smirk on Paige’s face I can tell she’s having the exact same thoughts.
The quiet hum of the car motor soothes my nerves until her voice cuts through the air.
“Been missing you y’know-” Paige starts but I interrupt, knowing she had the tendency to talk herself right into my bed.
“Told you I never wanted to talk to you again, remember?” I say with a slight shake in my voice.
“Baby c’mon, you weren’t serious about that,” She groans, her voice filled with amusement.
“What, the screaming didn’t seem serious to you?” I sigh, my eyes strictly on the road. Paige let’s out a chuckle and leans forward on her seat.
“Ion remember non of that, just remember how bad I wanted to fuck that attitude out of you,” she chuckles and the car slides into the passing lane momentarily as i slap her only half seriously across the chest. I pull over on the road, parking the car. The amusement in her tone pissed me off bad. I had enough.
“Get out” I tell Paige sternly, rage and annoyance swirling inside me. She had no right to be making light of the situation. Not after what she did, how bad it had hurt me.
Paige lets out a laugh. “Man you’re crazy” she tells me turning to face me. I face her too, the anger turning my cheeks even brighter. 
“I’m fucking serious. Get out,” I repeat my voice rising a little but it doesn’t have the desired effect. Paige just chuckles and shakes her head. I wanted to strangle her, she drove me crazy.
“KK always telling me I pick the crazy ones, I’m thinking she’s right,” Paige groans, not taking any initiative to get out of my car. I unbuckle my seatbelt and groan. I lean over Paige manspreading on the passenger seat, reaching for her door as she grabs my wrist, my face so close to hers I could smell the alcohol on her breath. The air in the car shifts, my annoyance turning into something that made my legs feel weak, as she licks her lips, her eyes on me. “M sorry ok,” Paige says, her voice low and hoarse now. Her eyes plead again.
And I fold, again.
“I don’t wanna hear a word from you, mmkay?” I say clearing my throat and pulling back from her before I made some really, really bad choices.
“Yes ma’am,” Paige grins, satisfied by the effect she had on me.
I start the car and in silence we drive back to Storrs, the streets quiet on the dark tuesday night. Paige fiddles with the zipper of her hoodie, her nimble fingers needing something to do - always looking for something to toy with. 
I tried to shake the feeling of each cell in my body screaming for her, needing to feel her skin against mine. I knew we weren’t good for each other. She wasn’t good for me. Part of me wished she came to tell me she’s done fucking around. That I’m all she wants, better than all the countless other girls that spent nights in her bed. That I was different, special. Worth letting everyone else go for. Frankly, even if she told me all those things, each word I wanted to hear, I wouldn’t believe her. 
When you were with Paige, it never felt like you were one of many though. She knew how to make you feel like you were the only one. It was in the way her blue eyes roamed my face, in the whine of her voice - like she would die if she didn’t have me. She’d remember your favourite movie and your mother’s name and the way you liked your coffee. All just to go see some other bitch later and repeat the same routine with her. Even with the girls she fucked, she had to be the best. Not because they meant anything, but because that’s who she had to be - the best. A winner.
Paige stretches her arms behind her head, the grey Uconn tee hiking up just enough for the skin on her lower abdomen to peek out as I park the car. Jesus. I quickly look away.
There’s a moment of silence, Paige staring at me intently.
“Look, I-” she starts but I quickly climb out of the car, not wanting to hear it. She’s quick to follow me though, her long limbs catching up to me faster than I liked.
“Ma, c’mon-”
“Don’t call me that,” I say, doing my best to sound stern as I head towards my dorm in a hurry, Paige right next to me. The campus was empty, most students already in their dorms, spending the night in.
“Bro you gotta listen to me-”
“No I don’t, you got your ride home now fuck off!” I yelp, entering the building as Paige holds the door open for me, still persistent on following me. “You said you’d keep your mouth shut so… keep it shut Paige.”
“Well… I lied” She murmurs rubbing the back of her neck, still on my tail all the way to my door. For a moment she watches me struggle with the lock, my hands shaky from the mix of anger and how bad the need between my legs had grown just from being near her. Paige reaches over, unlocking the door for me, her hands brushing against mine. I close my eyes and sigh - I really had to get it together.
“Well yeah you do that huh,” I say bitterly entering my dorm. Paige leans against the doorframe, not letting me lock her out.
Paige chuckles and shakes her head. “Bro you’re being so dramatic, we both knew what this was when we got into it. It’s not like you didn’t fuck around too!” Paige raises her voice, slightly amused, slightly bitter.
The truth was, I hadn’t slept around. Since Paige first fucked me, she took over me, consumed me. I would never admit this to her but I couldn’t even think about anyone else. 
“God, you can be such a bitch I swear to-” I groan loudly, rolling my eyes but Paige interrupts me, stepping into my room.
“Me?! You’re the most psycho bitch I ever met-” 
“Psycho bitch?!” I’m screaming now, my body hot with rage. “It was you who told me you weren’t fucking anyone else with some other bitch’s bra under your bed! Not me!”
Paige groans and shuts the door behind her, throwing her head back in frustration. “It’s just something people say! You were in those purple panties too ma, I’m not responsible for the shit I say when you wear those,” Paige argues. I chuckle, turning to face her. She was staring at me, heavy lidded and jaw sharper than usual from grinding her teeth together. Paige was getting pissed off, wondering if any pussy was worth this much trouble.
“You’re a fucking sociopath P!” I yell at her as she takes a step towards me, her eyes darkening. The blue in her eyes nearly gone from the way her pupils were blown out.
Paige grins smugly at me, licking her lower lip, looking me up and down. “Yeah? What else?” she says smugly, her big hands coming to hold me by my waist. The moment my eyes meet hers I knew it was over for me. Suddenly my legs felt weak, and my head spun.
“An asshole too,” I answer, my voice breathy and more quiet. My body was immediately responding to her touch, Paige’s fingertips sliding underneath the hem of my shirt sending goosebumps everywhere.
“Yeah?” Paige grins, with a smug tone. I nearly fall over.
“Yeah,” I repeat, my chest heaving. 
“That’s too bad ma…” Paige murmurs, her eyes roaming from my eyes to my lips, down my body. 
I furrow my brows, fighting to not let out a whimper as her fingertips rubbed up and down against my sides, carefully over each rib. Up and down.
“It’s too bad 'cause I’ve been dying to fuck you,” She says with a low voice, eyes returning to meet mine. “Shit baby, watching you tonight, the way your ass looks in those jeans? Fuckin' killing me,” she adds shaking her head. Paige’s hand drifts down from my waist to my hips, all the way to my ass. Gripping it hard as she groans.
I can’t fight the whimper that spills from my lips, the way my eyes flutter shut just for a moment. Paige grins, watching my reaction. She pulls me closer by my ass, my body pressing against hers as she towers over me. Paige leans down, nuzzling her nose against my ear. And I don’t stop her. I bite my lip, feeling the way my panties were growing damp already. Only Paige could have this kind of effect on me - one touch and a few words and that grin and I was hers. She knew it as well as I did and I hated her for it.
I was too weak to hate her right now though. Too far gone.
“But since you hate me so bad…” Paige whispers into my ear, her lips brushing against it as she leaves a few wet kisses right under it. “I should probably leave.”
In a haze I reach up to wrap my hands around her, my hand pressing against the back of her neck to keep her there. To make sure she didn’t go.
“No…” I nearly whine. Paige chuckles against my neck, kissing it slow and soft. Her hand kneads my ass again, like she had been dying to feel it.
“No? You want me to stay?” She says, teasing.
“Want you to stay,” I murmur, tilting my head to the side, my eyes shut now.
“Want me to get you right ma?” Paige asks hoarsely. My body feels like putty as she holds me against her, like she could do whatever and I could do nothing but watch. I didn’t feel in control. I never did with her.
“Y-yes,” I finally admit with a sigh.
Paige pulls away from my neck, her lips ghosting mine. Her breathing was heavy. She needed this just as bad as I did.
“Attagirl,” she murmurs and finally presses her lips against mine. I moan against her, Paige’s lips slide against mine hungrily - like all these weeks apart she had been underwater and I was air. She could finally breathe.
With a swift movement, Paige pulls my shirt off, leaving me in a bra and jeans as her lips return to mine with a groan. Paige’s tongue slides against my lower lip, begging for access. I open my mouth, my tongue meeting hers, my hands pulling on her t-shirt, feeling the muscles on her abdomen, earning a small whine from her.
“Fuck,” she whimpers and walks me back without breaking the kiss. The backs of my legs hit the edge of my bed, forcing me to fall over. Paige watches me hungrily, her mouth ajar just slightly as her eyes roamed my body. “So fucking sexy,” she groans, pulling her shirt off over her head before climbing on top of me in her sports bra.
Paige starts kissing my neck roughly, sucking and nibbling enough to leave bruises to remind me of her later. Her leg finds its way between my legs, quickly pressing against my core as her free hand roams my side, fingers sliding underneath my bra and kneading my breast.
“Fuck, P…” I whimper arching my back off the bed. The friction provided by her leg was the opposite of relieving, making me more aware of all the layers of fabric between our bodies. “Need these off,” I murmur breathlessly, my hands pulling the blue sweatpants down desperately as Paige’s open mouth moves from my neck to my jaw.
“Whatever you want baby,” she whispers, kicking off her pants. She was now on top of me in a sports bra and Nike pros, a silver chain dangling against my chest. Paige leans back a little, eyes roaming my body, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe I was real. Her blonde hair was down and tousled from the way I had been gripping it. She grabs a hair tie from her wrist, tying it back messily, licking her lips.
“Baby, I need to taste you or I might die.”
With that Paige brings her lips back to my neck, making her way down with a trail of wet, sloppy kisses between my breasts, down my stomach, my hip bones, her hands unbuttoning my jeans, shaky with need.  
I watch as she gets on her knees on the floor between my legs, her blue eyes my face as she pulls down my jeans painfully slowly. I buck my hips, needing her mouth on me so bad I felt lightheaded. Paige’s hands pin my hips down with a grin, eyes moving to my panties and the visible spot that had grown wetter under her gaze.
“Fuuuckk ma,” she groans, finally bringing her lips to my core, kissing over my panties.
I whine and grip the sheets beside me, trying to buck my hips closer but Paige shakes her head, still holding my hips still firmly against the mattress. “Thought you hated me,” she murmurs against my core. I wanted to cry, needing her lips on my bare skin. The feel of her mouth through my panties wasn’t enough.
“I do,” I whine, squirming in frustration, throbbing with need. I wanted to hate her, I really did. But when she was between my legs, pinning me down, a chain on her neck and that smirk on her face, I simply couldn’t. 
Paige brings her hand to my hip, finally pulling my panties down to my ankles, her eyes never leaving my core. With a bite of her lip, she brings her finger to my cunt, already soaked, all for her. Her fingertip presses against my clit menacingly, enough to make me gasp.
“If you hate me so much then why are you this wet huh?” Paige teases with a gravelly voice, starting to circle my clit slowly, drawing out whimpers from my lips. My legs immediately trembled, and I watched her with heavy eyes and furrowed brows, nearly unable to think yet alone speak.
“You’ve been such a bitch all night shoulda known you just needed to be fucked,” she chuckles, pressing her fingers harder against my clit, making me let out a moan. It had been weeks since we last did this yet the way she touched me seemed practiced and effortless, like she had been doing it every single day of her life.
“Fuck you,” I moan arching my back as Paige bit on my inner thigh, the veins in her forearm turning visible from the strain of rubbing my clit. 
“Nah ma,” she breathes out, shaking her head. “I’mma fuck you. Just need to taste this pussy first,” Paige groans and leans over, both her hands gripping my inner thighs harshly, forcing them apart as she dives in face first, her lips quickly attaching to my clit.
“Shit. Paige, I-” I moan, unable to come up with any comprehensible thought, Paige’s tongue lapping me up like she really would die if she didn’t taste me. Paige’s eyes are fluttering shut and she’s moaning against my cunt, unable to get enough.
“Fucking missed this pussy so bad,” she murmurs against me, wrapping her lips around my clit and sucking. “Taste so fucking good, never gonna get enough of you,” she rambles on, making a quick mess of me. It doesn’t take long for the coil in my stomach to tighten, my hand gripping onto Paige’s blond hair, falling out of the bun now. 
“Paige-” I whine, throwing my head back, feeling her tongue swirling in my folds. The sheets underneath me were growing damp, wetness dripping out of me from how good she was eating me out.
Paige pulls away spreading my folds apart with her fingers. “Shit ma she loves me huh,” she groans at the sight of me dripping all over the bed. Her words make my eyes roll back. Without warning she pushes two fingers inside me, all the way, as deep as she could. 
“OH fuck P” I gasp loud, bringing my eyes to her face, glistening with the mess I had made on her. She groans, my cunt tight and wet around her fingers as she curls them against me, her bicep flexing as she does. I moan loudly, throwing my head back, my legs shaking bad. Paige’s thumb rubs against my clit harshly as she pumps her fingers into me, other hand holding my squirming body still.
“P… mmph, please,” I cry out, not even sure what I'm pleading for. 
“Shh,” Paige coos, her hand reaching up to cover my mouth and shut me up. “Listen ma,” she says and groans. The room is filled with the sound of my wet cunt, as her fingers slam into me faster, curling harder. My cheeks burn up, almost embarrassed at the state that she had me in.
Paige grins watching my face. “Don’t sound like you hate me, huh,” she murmurs, a bead of sweat dripping down her face. “No one else gets you this wet right? No one fucks you like this,” she groans, hand moving from my mouth to gripping my jaw, making me watch her finger me.
“Mmmh,” i whimper and grip the sheets harder, overwhelmed with the fullness her fingers were causing. I wanted to look away, unable to take the way her arm looked, muscles flexing, veins prominent, as she worked me. It was all overwhelming me as the pleasure built enough to make me shut my eyes.
“Answer me,” Paige commands, her voice stern and her hand moving faster. 
“Shit… No one.. No one fucks me like this,” I cry out, unaware of what was coming out of my mouth. Too fucked out to care.
Paige moans. “Shit, that’s right. No one baby, only me,” she murmurs, her mouth returning to my clit, tongue working against it as her fingers fill me up, overwhelming me and getting me to my peak.
“P- I’m close,” I cry out, my legs nearly shutting but Paige grips my thigh with her free hand, spreading me open for her.
“That’s it ma, s’ good for me,” Paige coos working harder, her fingers curling inside me, tongue flicking against my clit. “Come for me baby,” she praises, groaning against me.
“Oh-” I whine and my head lulls back as my core tightens around her, my legs trembling, Paige fucking an orgasm me to my orgasm. Who cared she slept around, who cared I was supposed to hate her. In this moment, it was just me and her. And no one made me feel like she did, no one took care of me like this.
“Perfect fucking pussy, all for me,” Paige groans against my cunt, working me as I released all over her, the pleasure washing over me in waves. My moans turn to whimpers as I slowly come down, her movements slowing too.
I let out a breath, feeling the aching emptiness inside me as Paige pulled her hand away. She watches my pulsing cunt, mesmerised and hungry. The thing about Paige, one was never enough for her. Her lips kissed around my clit before pulling away, licking her lips from my mess. 
“Missed how you taste baby,” she murmurs while I lay back, trying to catch my breath. Paige brought her fingers against my lips, sliding them into my mouth. I wrap them around her fingers, tongue swirling against her, tasting myself. Paige hisses, watching me sucking on her fingers. With a groan she climbs back up, kissing me hungrily. The taste of me, and her saliva all mixing together. 
Her lips move against mine, the kiss filled with something more tender than pure lust. My arms wrap around her shoulders, pulling her in as we move up towards the headboard of the bed. Paige breathes heavily through her nose, kissing me with all the need she had, her hand holding my face by my jaw. I move my hand from her shoulder, down her arm, squeezing her bicep, all the way to the band of her Nike Pros, tucking on them.
“Need to feel you P,” I admit in a moment of weakness, my heart fluttering with how good it felt to be underneath her again. I needed all of her.
Paige pulls back a little, breathing heavy and I swear her eyes are filled with tenderness for just a second as they meet mine. Her fingertips trace my jaw and lower lip before letting go and pulling down the fabric I was tugging on, lips parted from need. My eyes roam her sports bra covered chest, down the muscles of her abdomen finally to her core. I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly going dry.
I reach up and flip us over, with some help from Paige who was much stronger. She grins, watching me on top of her, straddling her thigh as I lean down and kiss her hard. Paige is quick to place her hand on my ass, gripping it harshly and hissing at how good it felt to touch me. My hand trails down her abdomen, fingertips itching to feel her cunt but she grabs my wrist, shaking her head.
“Ride me ma,” she says, half commanding, half pleading. I open my eyes meeting her eyes and I realise, she is fully pleading. 
“Need to feel that pussy on mine.” Shit.
Too weak to fight or to make her beg, I maneuver myself between her legs, angling her body just right, Paige’s other leg up in the air in my grip. Paige watches me, leaning back against the bedframe, eyes half shut and mouth agape, looking so good I could’ve burst.
Finally, I lower myself against her, feeling the slick of her cunt press against mine. 
“Ohhh shiiit,” Paige groans, watching our cores grinding against each other. I whimper, pressing on her lower abdomen to find just the right angle. 
“Oh,” I whine, feeling her pressing against my clit just right, my body immediately trembling, still sensitive from my previous orgasm.
Paige’s head lulls back at the same time, as she lets out a guttural groan, gripping my ass and forcing me to start moving my hips.
I do so, slowly, drawing it out for her - just the way Paige loved and simultaneously hated. Her breathing was getting heavier as she watched me. “Just like that,” she whimpers, trying to keep herself together. It never lasted for long.
I moan, grinding my cunt into hers, watching her face scrunch up in pleasure. Her hands snake around me, unclasping my bra with ease, letting my tits fall out as she groans. 
“Look so fucking good for me,” she murmurs, a slight whine in her voice as she leans forward, her mouth attaching itself to my nipple, tongue circling it as i ride her faster, mind spinning once more. “Such a bitch huh who knew you’d be so good for me,” Paige whines and I grip her shoulders, steadying myself, letting my nails dig into her skin as she hisses.
“You’re the bitch,” I whimper breathlessly, letting out a gasp when she bites my nipple. Paige’s hand are digging into the skin of my ass, forcing me to move faster, her hips bucking into me. She chuckles, breathing heavily, head falling back against the bed frame. “Shut the fuck up and ride me ma,” she hisses, gripping my jaw and forcing my gaze to lock on her face.
I hiss, furrowing my brows as i look down at her, moving my hips desperately, our cunts grinding together harshly, igniting that familiar burn inside me.
“Pisses me off, pretending you don't want me. Pretending you don’t want me to fuck you, it’s bullshit,” Paige groans, fighting back her own orgasm now. Her voice shook and the muscles in her abdomen were contracting as she looked up at me. “Look at you now riding my shit, being a slut for me,” she rambles on. “You’re my slut ma,” Paige moans bucking her hips into mine, eyes fluttering shut from pleasure.
My nails dig into her skin harder, my whole body trembling. I was close, and her words only made me ride harder, grind against her faster, the slickness of her cunt making me wetter. Paige’s hand squeezed my jaw, forcing my eyes open.
“Tell me.. Shit- tell me you’re my slut,” Paige whines. She’s desperate for it, barely aware of the words coming out of her mouth. I can tell she's close
“Mmph, P-” I moan, my cunt throbbing.
“Aw shit- I- Tell me,”
“Fuck I am, I’m your slut P, please,” I mewl, my eyes growing wet as they shut.
“That’s right ma, fuck- ride me so good you’re gonna make me come,” Paige murmurs out inbetween moans, hands gripping my jaw and ass so tight I’m nearly bruising underneath her grip.
My whole body shook and I cried out, barely able to keep grinding my cunt into hers, her clit pressing against mine. But when I heard the moan that slipped from her lips, and felt her mouth attach to my neck, I knew I’d do anything to get her to fall apart beneath me.
“P- I’m-” I cry out but she interrupts me.
“Me too baby, shit- ride me so- aw fuck- fucking good,” Paige rambles on, barely able to form sentences as she moves underneath me, the friction growing unbearable between us as she lets out a guttural moan, her body coiling underneath me. 
“Fuck-” Paige finally moans.
That’s enough to get me there too, coming against her cunt, fingernails leaving marks on her shoulders as I kept grinding my hips, movements turning sloppy as i whimpered on top of her, riding down waves of pleasure.
My body trembles, eyes still closed when I feel Paige’s hands wrapping around my body and pulling me down. My naked body presses against her skin as she soothingly rubs my back, nuzzling her nose into my hair.
I sigh, listening to her trying to catch her breath. After a while, she breaks the silence.
“Meant it when I said I missed you,” she murmurs into my ear, still out of breath. I bury my head into the crook of her neck, brushing her hair gently. It was moments like these that got me confused. You didn’t do this just for someone you fucked. Except Paige did.
“Don’t like fightin' you,” she whispers, pressing a kiss on my temple. I feel my heart fluttering in a way I didn’t want it to. But I’m too tired to fight it. I press a kiss on her jaw, gently and pull my head back to meet her gaze. She looks completely fucked out, mascara smudged under tired eyes. Her hand reaches up to brush a strand of hair off my face before she leans over and kisses my forehead, as tenderly as humanly possible. Maybe this was her trying to show me I was in fact different, that she was done with the other girls. She just wanted me. 
“Don’t like fighting you either,” I whisper, resting my chin on her chest. Paige’s eyes are filled with relief, as she smiles weakly. 
“I’mma get us some water, okay ma?” Paige hums and I nod, letting her crawl out of bed from underneath me. I watch the blonde pull her clothes back on and turn to me, smiling affectionately. She leans down and presses another kiss on my temple, smoothing over the blanket to make sure I was comfortable. “Just a sec,” she whispers before walking into the kitchen. Surely you don’t do that just for a girl you fuck. There’s no way you look at someone like that and proceed to sleep around with other people. My heart flutters as I let my mind wander, finding myself fantasising of getting to call Paige mine. All mine.
Just then I heard Paige’s phone buzzing on the bedside table. Without my better judgement, I reach over, seeing countless missed calls and messages from a girl, asking where she was and when she’d be over. My heart sinks, the reality quickly bringing me back down from my daydreams. Paige wasn’t here because I was special. No. She was here because I was whipped, and she knew it. And I had given her every single thing she wanted. 
-
taglist (ppl who commented on the teaser or urged me to write lol): @thaatdigitaldiary @wbbismypassion69 @uwupaige @lovegalor333 @celestixldarling @mrsbueckerss @t0ygirl @thesecondgaycousin @jnkfaist @rosemariiaa @sierrale8ne @janaelalfysblunt @tndaqlifwy @xxloveralways14 @vbueckers @bueckersfive
ty everyone enjoy this idk if i will write again lmao
330 notes · View notes
matchaelette · 2 days ago
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gif by @yoongi-bts
when jungkook is a vessel of love, and love is as beautiful as the poets said it was
summary: idol!jk and oc!ash, established relationship, the first time 'I love you' was spoken out aloud. the more earlier stages of their relationship. yearning, tenderness, fluff, it's all sickeningly full of love.
genre: fluff
warnings: none.
word count: 3.4k
notes: life updates. one: i'm back. obviously. two: jung hoseok is back and ksj 1 is coming (!!!) three: I am officially a uni student and majoring in civil engineering. classes start from the first week of december. four: I have decided to officially name this drabble series *drumrolls* the hopeless romantic series. so, without further ado, welcome back, our hopeless romantic couple!
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you’re in love with jungkook.
no, you’re not allowed to say that.
fuck what you’re allowed and not allowed.
you’re desperately, helplessly, hopelessly in love with jeon jungkook. your gorgeous, gorgeous boy.
yours.
then why are you not allowed to be in love with him?
because you’ve been dating him for three months. three months.
only three months, since you decided to stop pining after him, decided it was enough, after god knows how long. three months since that decision led you to be extremely nonchalant around him, calm and collected to a point where it almost looked fake (you’re a terrible actor), and the next thing you knew, you were heavily making out with him in the chilly air of a fall night. calm and collected, indeed. three months since you learned that jungkook was pining for you in the same manner, if not more, and three freaking months since both of you decided to date, being head over heels for one other ever since.
it's too soon to say ‘I love you’. even if you know deep down that you were in love with him even before dating him– but there’s no way you’re treading that water. the realization of being in love with him right now is enough to freak you out. no, it’s definitely too soon to declare ‘I love you’.
because you don’t know whether jungkook feels the same way. although it’s not like you need or expect him to feel the same way you do. just because you’re in love with him doesn’t mean he has to be. you can happily wait until he’s ready and feels the same way.
you’re just scared that he doesn’t want to feel that way. that you’ll scare him away.
look at him. does he look like he feels the same as you?
jeon jungkook looks like a slow-motion daydream, standing in front of you. tight-fitting jeans, snug around the well-defined muscles of his thighs, and a black checkered shirt, sleeves rolled up, displaying the protruding veins of his arm. his curly hair covers the vein in his forehead, almost reaching down to his lips which were pouting in distress.
yeah, you don’t care how he feels. you’re in love with him.
but you are a graveyard of all the people you ever loved.
you can’t have jungkook join those ghosts of the past.
“three hours now. we’ve been trying to fix it for three hours.”, you shake your head, frustrated. you’ve been out all day today and the last thing you wanted to do when you got back home was your laundry. but the lack of fresh clothes compelled you to do it anyway. and everything would’ve been fine had you not entered your laundry room to discover the whole floor flooded with water. panicked and disoriented, your first instinct was to call jungkook, despite it being past midnight. when your boyfriend heard what had happened, he immediately demanded you step aside and that he was already on his way over to your house.
“this thing–”, the boy of your dream grumbles out loud in real life, breaking your thought train, “–hates me!”
oh, that.
now, it’s four in the morning and you’re both dripping wet, absolutely drained, standing in a puddle of water and soap. all you could do is to stare dejectedly at the washing machine. it was a losing battle.
“oh my god!”, jungkook cries out in indignation, “a minute ago it was sprinkling water in my face, now it’s sprinkling soapy water!”
“jungkook, move away”, you hurriedly pull your boyfriend away from your washing machine. he rebels under your grip, the patience he displayed half an hour ago was now transformed into rage.
how can someone be so cute when they’re mad?
“let me go, ash”, he points a threatening finger at the washing machine, “you wanted a fight, buddy? I’ll give you!”
“jungkook!”, you laugh and wrap your arms around his waist, “it already won! look at us!”
jungkook stares down at your attached bodies, soaked from top to bottom, while the washing machine looks like it is having a field trip.
“okay, I give up”, he sighs and rests his chin on the top of your head, “unless–”
“no unless.”
“hear me out first”, he smooches your hair, “you smell amazing by the way. anyways, unless– wait, what was I going to say? I was supposed to say something amazing.”
“I’m sure it was amazing, babe”, you chuckle with fondness, “but that thing is a lost cause. I’ll call maintenance in the morning. let’s take a shower and go to sleep, okay?”
“mhm. yeah”, he replies in affirmation but only tightens his arms around you.
“I’m sorry for calling you so late. I should’ve just– I don’t know. I mean, it was just a minor inconvenience. not a big deal. I don’t know why I freaked out–”
“princess, ssh”, jungkook coos, “you have a problem, you call me. doesn’t matter how small or big it is.”
“kook, I literally called you at one in the morning.”
“and I am very glad that I am the first person that crossed your mind. even though I couldn’t help you. I swear to god, this washing machine has a personal grudge against us.”
“thank you anyways”, you mumble against his chest.
“hey, this is what boyfriends are for.”
how is it possible not to love him?
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you wake up to the humming of a honey-caramel voice in the distance.
you yawn and grab the crisply folded silk robe from the foot of your bed. the clothes haphazardly tossed on the ground last night were nowhere in sight, and neither was the person who did so. yet you could hear his hums, feel his warmth.
you smile.
the clock on the wall reflects a bright 11:10, and it’s safe to say that you’ve just woken up. after staying up with your rogue washing machine till four in the morning, you can’t really blame yourself. you feel very well-rested though, for the first time in a while.
jeon jungkook’s presence has that kind of power.
you make an effort to stay silent in your own house. your bare feet tiptoe against the icy floors, carrying you to the sweet melody you’re fairly certain is your boyfriend in the kitchen. and undoubtedly it is. jeon jungkook has his back turned towards you– white tee clinging to his physique, his hair damp and disheveled, singing softly to himself while doing the dishes.
you hold your breath and hug him from the back, resting your cheek against his spine.
jungkook, momentarily confused, laughs when he realizes it’s you.
“good morning princess.”
“good morning jungkook”, you inhale him in. he smells like peaches and baby soap. and fresh laundry. “you smell heavenly.”
“I just came out of the shower–”
 “–hey!”, you cut him short when he gently peels you off him, unexpectedly devoid of warmth, but jungkook hugs you back in an instant; your ear against his ribcage, his chin on the top of yours.
“mmm, that’s better”, you mumble, “did you do the laundry? you smell like detergent.”
 you can almost reach out and touch the outlines of his smile. “you couldn’t do it last night so I thought I’d take some work off your shoulders. I folded your clothes as well!”
“aww, you didn’t have to do– wait, the washing machine is fixed?”
“yeah, I called the repairmen in the morning and they said they were coming over. I was pretty surprised at how quickly they arrived.”
“what happened?”
“one of the pipes got leaked somehow. I think I also did some damage when I tried to fix it. but don’t worry, it’s as good as new.”
“not worrying”, you let go of jungkook and let muscle memory guide you to the coffee machine, “why did you wake up so early?”
 “it’s one p.m. in the afternoon. what’re you talking about?”, jungkook laughs.
“it’s one p.m.?!”, you choke on your coffee, “the clock– but it was eleven–”
“it’s out of battery. I got new ones though”, jungkook points at the bags sitting on your counter.
“you went grocery shopping? you spent an entire lifetime while I slept!”, jungkook chuckles at your awe, “tell me from the beginning. what did you do?”
“well, I called the repairmen as soon as I woke up and then I went to take a shower. they were here by the time I was done. I made us breakfast while they fixed your machine, went grocery shopping afterward, came back and did laundry, here I am now”, jungkook kisses your forehead, “all while someone slept like a baby.”
“oh my god. thank you so much.”
I love you.
“you’re welcome, babe”, he smiles, “I gotta leave now. but listen, I got you ice cream, popcorn and those salty chips you seem to love so much. call me if you need anything else.”
“huh? why though?”, you peer in confusion. you’re usually not very big on snacking. and jungkook knows that. unless it’s your–
“your period is supposed to start tomorrow, genius”, he rolls his eyes, “you don’t remember, do you?”
you clearly didn’t.
apparently, he did.
you tiptoe forward to hug jungkook, too stunned to form any coherent word. you hope jungkook doesn’t notice the tears filling your eyes but when he lifts your face to gently kiss your eyelids, you realize that he knew you were gonna cry.
yeah, I definitely love you.
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“hello, jungkookie’s girlfriend!”
kim taehyungs’s visibly enthusiastic face beams at you through the screen of your phone. your initial reaction is to wave brightly at him, despite the slight confusion of whether you accidentally called him when you picked up the phone to facetime your boyfriend.
“hi, tae!”, you say heartily, “gosh, it’s been a while since I saw you.”
“and whose fault is that, huh?”, taehyung’s voice is a warm breeze on a spring evening, “jungkookie tells me you’ve been like… hella busy”
“I was. I mean, I am. it feels like I am always busy these days”, you sigh, “but never busy enough for you guys! how are you?”
“good. busy as well, but good.”
“kook told me last night. you guys work way too hard.”
“wait”, taehyung exploded into laughter, “jungkookie was at your place last night?”
“...yeah?”
“our manager was looking for him and jungkookie was going on and on about how he was in his room all night and manager hyung didn’t knock loudly enough!”
“oh my god, he wasn’t supposed to be at mine yesterday?”
“no, I mean, he was done working but he didn’t tell anyone before leaving the dorm!”
“that might be my fault”, guilt fills your eyes, “I was doing laundry last night and my washing machine started leaking water everywhere. I panicked and called kook. I’m sorry”
“hey, it’s okay, no harm was done”, taehyung looks amused, “so you were doing laundry at midnight? no wonder jungkookie is obsessed with you.”
“obsessed with me, huh?”, you smile playfully, concealing the tiny somersault your heart does.
“he literally never stops talking about you”, taehyung grins widely, “bro is whipped”
“hmm, I did call bro’s phone, right? or did I accidentally call you?”
“how do accidentally call taehyung instead of jungkook? one starts with t and one starts with j”, taehyung suddenly looks disgusted, “unless you saved him as something weird, in that case, I don’t wanna know–”
“kim taehyung.”
“or you can just tell me that you missed me, you know”, taehyung flips his phone camera and you spot a dancing jeon jungkook in the middle of a huge practice room, “but since the only person you care about is jungkookie–”
“kim taehyung–”
“–you called him, okay?”, you hear taehyung’s laughter, “I was playing games on his phone. he’s practicing extra today.
“practicing extra?”
“he said you guys made plans to hang out tomorrow.”
“we– we did”, you’re puzzled. jungkook continues to dance furiously, his quick and precise movements almost defying gravity, completely unaware of his surroundings, “wait, we planned to meet tomorrow because both of us had a clear schedule. why is he practicing extra today?”
“hobi hyung was asking him the same thing”, taehyung nods his head in mock disappointment, “we don’t really have a free schedule tomorrow. but he said that if you couldn’t meet tomorrow it’d be a while before you did. right?”
“y-yeah”, you blink.
“soooo, yeah. as I said, bro’s so whipped.”
oh god. be still my wild heart.
“this boy”, you finally exhale after a pause; feeling bad that he’s overworking himself to meet your needs, feeling grateful that it’s worth it to him.
“this boy, indeed. no, actually, we’re kinda proud of how amazingly we raised him.”
“you really, really did. ya’ll should give out parenting lessons.”
taehyung chuckles, “okay, I’ll give the phone to him.”
“tae, don’t”, you smile, quickly stopping him from calling jungkook, “just tell him to call me whenever he’s free, okay? I’ll be up.”
“okay, then. take rest, okay? don’t overwork yourself.”
“look who’s preaching”, you shoot him a stern look, “the kings of overworking themselves. take care, okay?”
taehyung laughs, “yeah. come over to the dorm whenever you’re free. we all miss you.”
“I will. bye!”
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“kook– stop it–”, you say in between a few puffs of breath, “you’re– god– tickling me!”
“am I?”, jungkook wiggles his eyebrows, and smothers his face on the exposed skin of your tummy once again, causing you to almost choke with another round of laughter. the sensation of his lips against your tummy has the butterflies inside going frenzy, but a part of you is scared shitless that it has nothing to do with him and everything to do with yourself.
you want to laugh; you want to cry. you wanna twirl into a knot and fly up in the sky. jungkook has no idea of the power he has over you– his body molds into yours, one his hands have shaped, a design he has drawn, kissed it into a sculpture.
you love him, you love this human being staring at you from between your legs with all the love in this whole fucking universe, kind and whole and happy and real, jeon jungkook, you love him so fucking say it.
I love you. I love you so much that I can’t deny it any longer, the promise stays silent on your tongue.
you wanna cry.
at least, you think you do.
“your heartbeat is going crazy”, jungkook calms down once he’s done tickling you out of your wits. he moves between your thighs and presses his ear against your heart space while gently laying his head on your chest.
yeah, do you know that is because I love you and not because you tickled the living lights outta me?
“princess?”, he asks quietly.
say it.
“princess?”, jungkook raises his head and looks at you, mildly concerned “are you okay?”
say something.
instead, you stare at him. you stare at his eyes. if eyes are actually a mirror of people’s souls, jungkook’s eyes perfectly represent his– filled to the brim with tenderness, tranquility, and mirth. a few years ago, you had read somewhere that humans were created from the burned-out embers of stars. you never believed it. the same folks who start wars, spill blood, stealing lying deceiving and doing everything evil, cannot be created from something so divine.
however, jungkook, over and over again, contradicts that belief. you have no doubt he’s born out of stardust. and fiery comets, northern lights, solar eclipses, everything magic.
“why are you crying?!”, jungkook’s anxious voice snaps you out of your reverie. without realizing you find yourself getting pulled up to sit on his lap, straddling his thighs. “is it me? did I do something?”
“itsh nn-not”, you utter weakly but the words come out as a stifled sob. when jungkook doesn’t understand what you’re saying, he completely loses his composure. he lets go of you and attempts to pry himself away, fairly convinced that he must’ve done something stupid. but you dig your fingers in his arms, trying to communicate with your firm grip that he did nothing wrong. it’s you, you’re the stupid one.
it takes him a few more seconds to realize that you’re crying for something else altogether, and only then does he relax. he wraps his arms around you, letting you break down in his little protective bubble.
what is wrong with me? why does every feeling of mine come out as tears?
“it’s okay, it’s okay”, jungkook coos, “breathe. breathe with me.”
“inhale with me”, he holds eye contact and carefully guides your breath, “good. now exhale. in. and out. it’s okay. I love you. you’re okay, princess.”
and
everything
just
freezes
for a moment.
for a moment?
seems like a lifetime.
you never realize how many types of ‘I love you’s there are until they’re spoken out aloud. most ‘I love you’s are expressed as a confession, while there are some which are born out of panic. I love you. do you love me back? these ‘I love you’s are full of anxiety, and a desperate longing for reassurance, for arms that’ll keep them safe. some are born out of anger and frustration. I’m doing this for you, because I love you, why don’t you understand? then there are those which are born out of pure terror because I love you but I’m afraid that all I’ll ever do is hurt you.
jungkook’s ‘I love you’ sounded like it was nurtured, a flower that bloomed inside a long time ago. like a blanket woven from your favorite human on the entire planet and falling asleep with someone inside your heart no matter how alone you feel outside; a promise.
not that any of you were in the right state of mind to realize that.
you and jungkook realize at the same time. the words that have been spoken out to existence.
he stares at you; you stare at him. devastated, mouth hanging, eyes bulging. none of you breathing.
jungkook closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them again.
“that was not a mistake”, his voice is deep and low. you hold your breath, afraid to miss a single sound that comes out of his mouth, “I do. I will if you allow me to. not that I can help it– I mean, even if you don’t allow it I can’t help myself. I love you. it’s not like I can just un-love you! wait, why do I need your permission anyway? it’s my feelings we’re talking about! okay, but it does concern you”, jungkook looks mortified, “but still, you don’t have to say it back. it’s great if you do but like, there’s no pressure. just don’t tell me to un-love you because that one is none of your business, oka–”
you kiss him. you kiss the living lights out of him. jungkook doesn’t even register what’s happening, he just accepts everything– the way your lips smashes against his, the way your tongue envelops his, finding you in every corner of his mouth, feeling you in every inch of his skin; a drunkard clinging onto every last drop of alcohol yet never having enough.
jungkook is literally panting when you let go of him.
 “I was crying because I am in love with you. I have been in love with you for a while now and I didn’t know how to say so”, you confess. only a few words are enough to make realization flash in his eyes. after all, he knows you. he knows you well enough to know everything, even the things he doesn’t.
“I must’ve been a saint in my past life to deserve this”, jungkook closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours.
“I think this is your first life. you’re like the sugar in a cookie.”
“what? I thought I was the cookie!”, jungkook furrows his eyebrows, offended, “also, sugar isn’t good for you. what are you talking about?!”
you giggle in response.
“hey! take it back”, he overpowers you in a swift motion. he reels your bodies backward to hover over you, pinning your hands down on the mattress, smirking. “otherwise you’re gonna regret it.”
“regret? nah, I think I will enjoy it”, your smirk wipes off the one on his face.
“oh boy”, he sighs.
“jungkook?”
“yeah?”
“say it again”, you whisper.
“I love you.”
“again.”
“I love you.”
224 notes · View notes
schoenpepper · 3 days ago
Note
How about for our early xmas gift, you give us a version where Yuu comes back to twst again🙂
(You broke my heart po💔)
Maybe This Time
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Intro: Everything changed after you left. But maybe he still stayed the same.
Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, not proofread, jade is veryy bad, kinda yandere ish
A/N: Counted as a sequel to this, though you can probably read it as a standalone. Sige na nga anonnie merry xmas happy new year nlng sayo haha. Maybe this tiiiime it'll be lovin' they'll find—*gets shot*
Masterlist
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Jade forgets what it's like to live.
The day you left, all color drained from the world he resides in. Rather, your absence pushed him from being an active participant into one that only watches.
Still, it only takes him a day to get back to work.
"You can take a longer break."
He waves off Azul with such a well-practiced smile even he might believe it. "I don't need a break. What is it for, even? There's no use reminiscing over such boring things."
Boring.
Boring boring boring.
The word makes him livid. It makes him seethe with a burning, passionate anger he was unaware was even stored within him. Maybe that's why you left. Maybe Jade failed to excite you. He and his brother are people that stay because of interest, so perhaps the reason you left was because Jade could no longer interest you. Is that it?
Why else?
Why else would you shatter him the first chance that you get?
It takes him one week to forget.
Not you. Sevens know he'll never forget you. You were a whirlwind that crashed through everything he knew and smashed him to smithereens. It takes him a week to forget that he's still hiding his pain.
He forgets he's in pain.
You're a rotting, festering wound that he's buried under layers of pretend. He's such a good actor even Floyd is—
"Stop cryin'."
Well. Maybe not Floyd. Jade raises a hand to his cheek and finds no tears. "You weren't crying. But I made you look, right?" Floyd grins, "Hurry and pack. Maybe nonna can help you get over shrimpy. She's real good at life advice~"
He's sure life advice won't help, but it wouldn't hurt (any more) to try.
The waters of the Coral Sea are frigid. It doesn't numb him enough when he's so used to it, but it's alright. He's fine, anyway. There's no more regret. No more bitter hatred. Only the familiar salt of the ocean water. His parents mean well when they fret over him, asking his twin brother for details. His grandmother is worriedly chattering over his shoulder, and he's made aware that he's unable to fool them this time. He's good at pretending. His family couldn't pick out his faux smiles when he's entangled in mischief, nor could they identify the mock innocence he likes to act out when he gets into fights with other mer. But now, why now? Why are they able to press their hand on that beating, dead thing in his chest and attempt to comfort it when the only thing it wants to do is wallow and wither in nothingness?
They couldn't tell when he was pretending to be good.
But they can tell that he's pretending to be okay.
It doesn't make sense.
It takes one month for everything to fall back in routine. Sleeping potions and pills and spells aid in nights when he's preoccupied with memories of a person he wished never existed at all.
His grades are higher than they'd ever been, and he's so ridiculously productive. It's all on track. Everything is just as it was before you. There was a time in his life before you. He can fill in the empty spot you'd left behind with dirt and the pieces of himself you'd killed that fateful day.
And thus, there will be a time after you.
"Jade," Azul hands him a familiar plush toy, "Floyd told me to give this back to you."
The felt shrimp plushie is mocking him; there is no other explanation. It's one half of a pair, actually. In some dingy arcade in town was a claw machine filled with small mushroom, shrimp, egg, onion, and garlic plushies. The owner called the machine "shrimp fried crane game". You were the one to win one mushroom plushie you kept for yourself, and you gave him the shrimp.
The mushroom was in your suitcase.
In his rampage (he wouldn't call it that, really), he had destroyed everything that reminded him of you that same night, or rather, early morning. He watched polaroids and love letters burn inside a metal dumpster he'd hauled from school grounds. The shrimp wasn't part of the bonfire.
It seems Floyd had snuck it away.
He inspects the toy with his usual smile, tight-lipped and close-eyed, nodding at Azul. He wants it out of his sight for a long, long time. If it could feel as forgotten as he felt, let those feelings be transferred to you. He wishes you pain and agony and guilt and regret.
It takes one year for him to let out a genuine chuckle.
His twin brother stares at him like he'd grown a second head, and Jade is aware it's unusual. Even though the joke he'd laughed at was so inane, the fact of the matter was that he laughed, which in itself is so strange. Perhaps this is a good thing. No, it can only be a good thing. What is it if not a sign that he's healing?
And soon, he won't remember you at all.
And you will cease to exist in his mind.
But it's not meant to happen today.
No, with that little laugh, grief like several tonnes of cement hit him right where it hurts the most; it's heavy, and debilitating, and it makes it nigh impossible for him to even breathe.
(Because you were the air he once consumed, and neither humans nor mer are made for such long term suffocation.)
"I've never seen you laugh before," the young man in front of him smiles with thick, syrupy lovesickness, "it suits you."
The person is an underclassman who'd been following him around recently. Like a poor mockup of your silhouette, he hears the same promises you couldn't keep from the mouth of another. It irks him more than he'd like to admit, because if he does, then it means admitting that he still remembers you. It means he still holds you up in his altar and lights flames in your name.
He does not.
Whoever says otherwise, whether it be Floyd or Azul, or Silver or Riddle; they all lie.
He only remembers you in anger. In bouts of madness that makes him question your existence, it is then that your name leaves his lips.
It takes one decade.
For what?
For forgiveness? For the hate to fade?
On his 27th birthday, his phone rings with a number he's long since engraved in his heart.
Jade forgot how to live in your absence.
In the decade you'd left, he only existed. It is a passive state of consistent routine that allows him to appear normal to his peers. Still, his closest people know he was left incomplete. He became a creature without a sense of purpose, and it was a sad thing. How pitiful it was for a predator to be reduced to a vessel containing shards of a broken heart.
Still, it is your name that he finds. It is your number.
A number from a phone kept in some dark corner of NRC's storage room. It's likely a student who decided to scroll through your contacts and found his contact name amusing. You did have quite the strange penchant for putting strange names in your contact list.
He answers the call in a moment of boredom.
There is nothing interesting to do in a business party.
"Hello? Jade?"
He stops. There is nothing in this world or yours that could erase each and every memory he's ever made with you. The voice is one he's heard often and dreams and even more in nightmares; it has replaced the voice of his dead conscience and pushed him to a meaningless drifting existence instead of finding thrill in things you would despise him for.
It's been a decade and instead of forgetting you, he didn't know when he melded you into his bones and stitched you into the fabric of his soul, but he knows you more than he knows himself.
"I'm back."
There is no more bitter hatred. There is no more regret.
"Can you pick me up?"
In one moment, it all dissipates into nothingness and there is only you.
Jade remembers how to breathe again. He feels that withered thing in his chest beat once more, and he feels alive.
It takes one decade for you to return.
And he didn't know he was waiting for you, but then, what could every second without you have meant if not just an endless eternity of patiently waiting?
"Did you see my message?"
"I did."
"Are you not afraid I'll make good on my promise?"
"I've never been afraid of you."
Yet, perhaps you should be. He may no longer despise you with every fiber of his being, but you'd betrayed him and lost his trust. There will be no more second chances. You will stay unlike before, and if he must break every mirror in the world to ensure his heart remains beating, then it will be all too easy.
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Taglist:
@yummyyummyinmytumny @lemon-koii @fsh1
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tamilhobbit · 2 hours ago
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Speaking as an Izzy hater - I found his character racist, homophobic and despicable in S1, did not see any appeal at all, and then copped a lot of shit from racist Izzy stans on Twitter (I used to enjoy fic that gave him a good arc, but those fandom experiences led me to start avoiding basically anything to do with him). Maybe the demographics are different on Tumblr, but Twitter was overwhelmingly pro-Izzy in a way that didn't acknowledge any of the bad he'd done and was hostile to anyone who disliked him.
I also thought his 'character growth' in S2 was too rushed. Him showing up in drag and singing felt more like Fandom Izzy. Canon Izzy had made a very very big leap there that, to me, didn't feel earned or justified. But I'll freely admit that my poor fandom experiences have soured me against him.
Otherwise, I agree with most of these points. I'm very much a Gentlebeard shipper and I still did not like the portrayal of their relationship this season. I have many of the same criticisms you expressed.
And it's gross that the 'talk it through as a crew' show refused to deal with everyone's PTSD, and even gave Lucius SA-related PTSD and played it off as a joke. Pete was horrifically cruel to him about it. That is one of my biggest issues with S2.
I think the writers suffered from being too involved with the fandom, to be honest. And it affected their own vision of their characters.
I've already said that to me, someone who is not an Izzy stan, the Izzy we got in S2 was much more like the Izzy I saw in fanfics and fandom than the Izzy we met in S1. Yes, Izzy could plausibly have become that person, but it takes a lot of work and growth that I feel they skipped over.
There was also just way too much going on. They crammed too much in and didn't have the time to treat any of it with the detail and respect it deserved. Given the show had to be cut down to 8 seasons, the writers desperately needed to be ruthless in cutting and editing. They needed to take out anything that didn't serve the plot or character growth, so they could focus on the important things.
They didn't.
Anne and Mary, for example. They don't actually add anything concrete to the storyline beyond being a backdrop for Stede and Ed! They serve as symbolism and foreshadowing, sure, but... of what? If we take them as foreshadowing of Stede and Ed, all it tells us is that this idyllic retirement that they end the show on won't actually be a happy ending for them. That they won't be happy with it. Which is a weird choice. Or do they serve as narrative foils of Stede and Ed, as a dark mirror? The narrative isn't very clear about that, to be honest.
The feeling I got was that that they were fanservice. Fans were clamouring for Anne Bonny and Mary Reed, so they gave us pirate lesbians, regardless of whether it was useful. The writers should have cut them and focused more on the plot, or made them relevant to the plot. They didn't.
Fans wanted Zheng Yi Sao, so we got her. Even though the plot ended up making her look a little foolish and incompetent by the end, in contrast to the first half.
Fans wanted Izzy to embrace his queerness, so we got that, even though it seemed like a rather abrupt shift.
Fans wanted more women and POC, so we got Archie. Who just shows up and isn't very well fleshed-out tbh, and ends up breaking up Jim and Olu. (Are they poly? It's only ever hinted at. And then Olu leaves for Zheng Yi Sao anyway. If they then become a polycule, it is entirely up to the fans.)
Fans wanted Stede to become competent and famous as a pirate, so we got that. Fans wanted Gentlebeard sex, so we got that. Fans discussed a soft shore retirement for Gentlebeard with Oluwande captaining the crew, so we got that.
This was some Monkey's Paw bullshit. We got a everything that we'd mused about on Twitter and Tumblr. It just wasn't executed well.
And yeah, even though I dislike Izzy, I do think his death was stupid. And in my opinion, a cop-out. It was like Shadow Weaver in She-Ra - you don't need character growth or redemption if you sacrifice yourself instead! With the double whammy that both Ed and Izzy have been toxic and awful to each other, and this narrative choice basically wriggles out of having to deal with that in any meaningful way.
Question: I enjoyed s1 OF OFMD, but for various reasons I never actually got around to watching s2 (pick up most of the plot from tumblr tho). What exactly went wrong in s2 that got so many people upset?
Oh, boy. Very long rant incoming.
So, for context, S2 had a significantly smaller budget, which necessitated moving the filming location to union-unfriendly New Zealand, reducing the number of actors/number of appearances of established actors, and cutting down the number of episodes from 10 to 8. In a show where each episode is only about half an hour long, that last one alone was enough to seriously hamper any character development or plot. I am very comfortable putting the vast majority of the blame on HBO because of these financial decisions.
The short version is that Jenkins et. al. needed to address and build on the problems left hanging in S1 while also getting the characters to the end of their character trajectories in case there was no S3 while also leaving room for additional episodes in case there was a S3, in a grand total of four hours, and failed.
The long version is that there were a bunch of what I'd consider small problems in isolation that came together and exploded in the S2 finale.
The reduced cast necessitated breaking up the crew (ex: having Swede marry Jackie and stay on land with her, so they don't need to pay Nat Faxon for all eight episodes) and not spending as much time on their relationships as S1 did.
The reduced time meant that the entire season was rushed (in contrast to S1, which takes place over at least several weeks if not months, most of S2 takes place in roughly five days), leading both to a lot of telling rather than showing (because they don't have time to show you), including vital character and relationship development.
This includes:
Having the Kraken half of the crew beat Ed to death after months of being abused by him – abuse that is clearly shown to have given them PTSD and a well-justified fear and hatred of him – only for them to be okay with him two in-universe days later;
On that note, having Stede dismiss the crew's concerns about Ed because he loves him and also we only have three more episodes left to fit in everything so we need to get over it really fast, even though Stede is supposed to be well-meaning and caring (even if he's not good at it all the time);
Resolving the issue of Stede abandoning Ed in one day, then having them "go slowly" in their relationship for two days and then have some spur-of-the-moment sex, and then the next afternoon have them break up over their diverging career aspirations, and then the day after that resolve that problem and retire on land while the rest of the crew sails off into the sunset;
Stede becoming a fantastic pirate captain over the course of one day, becoming wildly popular in the piracy world two days later, and then deciding the day after that to never be a captain again because he is retiring with Ed;
Having Ed and Stede decide to retire together as what is implied to be the end point of their relationship arc, when none of Stede's issues from S1, like his poor self-esteem, have been so much as mentioned by anyone, implying that he's either magically gotten over them or they don't matter all that much, actually, even though they were the catalyst for basically everything he did in S1;
Ed having two separate character crises – "I am an unlovable person" and "I want to do something with my life other than piracy" – not spending a lot of time on either one, having moments that clearly indicate he is still working on both problems and they have not been resolved, and then apparently having them both be resolved in the final episode despite nothing occurring to actually make that happen, and in regards to the latter, despite the story actively undermining it by repeatedly showing he can't do anything other than piracy;
Related to the above, Ed ending the series as allegedly being loved by the crew as a family (thus solving Crisis #1) despite this never actually being shown, demonstrated, or even fucking alluded to onscreen. If anything, it shows the exact opposite.
This last point is especially galling to me because of what is probably the most divisive issue in the fandom right now: killing off Izzy Hands after giving him seven episodes of character development.
The show begins with the Kraken crew clearly trying to use the skills they learned as part of Stede's crew to cope with their incredibly shitty situation and care for each other, which includes Izzy. Izzy, on his end, tries to protect the crew and speak up for them, which results in him being repeatedly hurt (both implicitly, as Ed at one point says "that's another toe" in response to Izzy advocating for the crew and we later see he's missing more than one toe already, and explicitly, as Ed shoots him in the fucking leg in front of the crew when he stands up for them).
This camaraderie is shown again and again and again. Frenchie, Jim, and Archie take care of Izzy while his leg is infected, at risk to their own lives. Izzy's misery over losing his leg is what unites the PTSD-ridden Kraken crew and the well-meaning-but-ignorant-of-PTSD marooned crew, who are initially at odds, to make him a new prosthetic leg. Izzy gives Lucius advice about forgiving Ed. Izzy is introduced to drag and opens up enough to sing at a crew party, and the whole crew is having fun together while Ed and Stede are in their cabin having sex for the first time. Izzy gives Stede pirate captain lessons and bonds with him when Ed leaves him. Izzy provokes the season's villain into focusing on him and then gives a big speech about how piracy is about belonging to something, giving the rest of the crew time to try to escape.
Recall that Season 1 had some pretty well-established universe rules, one of which was that it runs on Muppet physics/magical realism. People can jump off yardarms, hit the side on the way down, and be perfectly fine. People can get stabbed in the liver and it's totally okay because it's probably not that important, and even can stay pinned to a mast all night that way with only mild discomfort. Buttons can talk to birds and see long distances without a spyglass and put hexes on people. Good people can be hurt (Stede is stabbed repeatedly), bad people can die (the Badmintons, Geraldo), but no one we care about is ever killed.
This is repeated in Season 2: Ed is beaten into a coma with a cannonball and wakes up like Sleeping Beauty after a spirit journey, with no injuries to his face or body. Buttons turns into a seagull after spending an episode doing a magic ritual and is never seen again (because they couldn't keep paying Ewen Bremner due to the budget cuts). Jackie microdoses her husbands with poison to build up their immunity, so that she can later pull a Dread Pirate Westley and poison the British with shared drinks.
So: in the finale, the villain of the season is taken hostage by the pirates (for reasons? unclear how that fits in the plan), happens to have a gun on him (no one checked??), shoots Izzy on the right side and then leaves with no repercussions. The entire crew stands around silently doing nothing while Ed cries over Izzy and tells him that he's his only family.
And Izzy fucking Hands, the guy who just spent eight episodes bonding with and protecting everyone, uses his last words to reassure Ed that him becoming Blackbeard/the Kraken was Izzy's fault and that the crew is Ed's family and they all love him. No one else says anything to Izzy or tries to comfort him or help him in any way.
I repeat: in a show predicated on the idea that bullies and bigots die stupid deaths while queer people and POC are basically magic, a show that was praised for being kind to queer people by not making them worry about their faves suffering or dying, a show founded on the strength of the relationships between the characters, the guy who went through a season-long arc of learning to embrace his pirate found family and his own queerness is shot for stupid reasons on the side we're told isn't important and dies while everyone just stands there. His last words are about the whole crew loving Ed when the only person that the whole crew has loved all season is him.
Anyway, never mind all that, let's cut to Lucius and Pete getting married and Stede and Ed retiring!
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Complicating all this is that people who liked Izzy (or even said anything insufficiently mean about Izzy) were harassed for months in between seasons with insults, slurs, and actual fucking death threats. Izzy's growth was kind of a vindication for liking him: it meant that, despite all the harassment, we were right to like him and care about him as a character. Even people who didn't like him initially started to like him during Season 2.
And then he dies, and now there's a bunch of people saying that Izzy fans are big whiny babies who can't handle fictional death, and actually his death was so meaningful and beautiful and the only logical end to his arc, and it can't be bad writing because people die in real life all the time, and also he admitted he fed Ed's darkness so actually he was a terrible person all along anyway and they were right to hate him (and his fans)!
So, yeah, there are a lot of reasons why it's so hated, and I'm probably only addressing the problems of the pro-Izzy people (from what I can tell, BlackBonnet shippers who don't like Izzy think Ed and Stede's relationship is fine and dandy, but I'm sure that there are other criticisms they have that I have not addressed). I'm not even addressing the issues with Jim and Oluwande's relationship this season (and whooo boy are there issues).
It wasn't a universally bad season. There were episodes I really loved and still do. But the finale was a train wreck, and because it was a train wreck, a lot of people are looking back at what happened before the wreck and realizing that, oh, the train lost its brakes and steering because of the budget cuts and the engineers kept throwing fuel in the engine to make it go faster, and huh, now that I think of it, that part earlier in the trip was really wobbly but I didn't pay much attention to it at the time because I was sure the engineers had everything covered.
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dr-spectre · 2 days ago
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I think that it's now more important than ever to keep making art.
Whether it's some scribbles on a piece of a paper, paint on a canvas, typing out erotic fanfiction about two cephalopod women, i need you to keep going. OKAY?!
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Keep going at your own pace. Don't feel like you have to "grind" to achieve success, you're probably young as hell, you don't need to become a masculine obsessed fucking nutjob that is so obsessed with "discipline" and all this bullshit. Sure "discipline" is cool but... That shit takes a LONG TIME to develop and it only comes with experimentation and see what you believe in and what you enjoy. Don't get.... heh...... heh heh..... BRAINWASHED!!! by women hating bald bastards online who wanna turn you into a fun hating robot that's all about "work work work." Fuck them.
You are a human with flesh, blood, bones, a heart and a brain. You are not a machine. Got it?
Anyways, in talks of art, i wanna give my own sort of help for my writer friends out there! I thought it would be fun and plus, there's too many damn writing tips out there that boil down to "you HAVE to do this thing, you HAVE to follow this structure" and i think that is bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit that gives you more stress than needed. You know how many boring mid action movies come out that follow the hero's journey? The three act structure? The story circle? It is better to just make shit and learn what you could do for next time.
There are no rules, all of the "rules of storytelling" are just optional suggestions that you can either take or leave. Plus it seems like every fucking YouTuber has a different set of rules that conflict with each other anyways. However, I wanna share my own sort of "basic ass fundamentals of stories" that can fit into any story structure you want! I got these guidelines from the YouTube channel The Closer Look. I like their content, it's very insightful.
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Here's Dr. Spectre's basic ass fundamentals for stories.
Characters. Simple, a story must have characters otherwise you are making something else that is not a story.
Progression. Is there a sense of progression? Does it feel like for every second of story it isn't stagnating or getting dull and boring? Does it feel like shit is happening and growing? If it feels boring to read for you, then it's gonna be boring for another person reading it. Progression could be plot based or character based and them growing as the story goes on. Doesn't matter which one, can be both or one. Good stories never feel like they are staying the same or spinning their wheels.
Delivery (Aka. Setup and payoff). Do you deliver on the promises in the story? And do you deliver them in a way where the audience after they finishing reading or watching, they felt like it was all worthwhile and they didn't waste time consuming your story.
Everything else? IT'S OPTIONAL!!! COMPLETLY OPTIONAL! YOU KNOW HOW MANY STORIES BREAK THE "RULES"?! Do not become reliant and dependent on these "rules" because it'll slow your development and discourage experimentation. Not every story is gonna fucking follow the Save The Cat format.
There is also the talk of theme and i will say this.
Theme is not "this story is about sex, drugs, greed." No. Theme is a message or argument, it is not a word, it is something you are trying to say via a story. People don't have to agree with the theme, but it must make people think about it. If your story is about sex, what is it trying to say about sex? That sex is a scary thing and that it's okay to feel scared and worried about your first time? What are you trying to say about greed? Etc. Etc.
I read through a Sonic comic recently that everyone loves called Scrapnik Island and guess what? I fucking love that comic too.
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Scrapnik Island isn't truly about Sonic and Tails getting stuck on an island and Mecha Sonic is there and he becomes evil and does all this stuff. No, what it's ACTUALLY about is that your worth as a person isn't determined by successes and failures, Mecha Sonic feels like he is worthless and is a failure because he not only failed to kill Sonic, but also failed to help his friends on Scrapnik Island. However, Sonic snaps him out of that bullshit mindset and it's truly, truly wonderful stuff.
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Splatoon 2: Octo Expansion isn't truly about Agent 8 being trapped in a facility and defeating an evil ai. It talks about racism and what does it talk about specifically? That it doesn't matter what someone looks like, as long as they are a good person that's all that matters. That life is varied and beautiful and it's worth protecting from those who wish to destroy it.
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There's a reason why Agent 8 takes the time to soak in the fresh air and sunlight near the end of Octo Expansion, why Eight has memcakes to collect and we see their thoughts and wishes. it's there to explore that theme, that idea of what the story is truly about.
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Splatoon as a franchise is about how wonderful creativity itself is, that art and life are connected and grow together and are important and deserved to be protected. Commander Tartar, Mr. Grizz and Overlorder are all opposed to that idea and that's why they are the antagonists. DJ Octavio less so because he is trying to save his own culture and art, even as to go far as manipulating a mentally ill Callie who was already growing distain and tiredness from her own culture, so it just so happens that these two chaotic forces share the same ideology.
Now, I wanna say, do you NEED a theme to make a story? No. BUT! If you don't have something to say and that connective tissue, then it's gonna weaken everything else and the action, plot and characters have to be fucking top notch. The "Rule of Cool" only works when... you know.... it's cool? And well done?
Anyways, I've rambled long enough. Please keep making art, please? Especially now considering what has happened. I need you to hold onto hope, hold onto creativity and fun. You must. You have to...
Be good people.
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ha-rinrin · 1 day ago
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Hiding From The World
Summary: After a meeting with Silco, Jinx goes missing, leaving you to go find her.
Pairing: Jinx x Fem!reader
Wordcount: 1k
Authors note: The long ass story is still not finished im so sorry guys im gonna try to publish it as soon as I can 🤞🏻. I also did this at 2am, sorry if its bad I literally fell asleep in the middle of writing it.
Masterlist
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It's been hours since you last saw her. Jinx was supposed to come back to the hideout after a supposedly urgent meeting with Silco, but the minutes dragged on, turning into hours, and still no sign of her. You tried to convince yourself she was just blowing off steam somewhere, but you couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in your gut.
Without a second thought, you head to the one place she might be. It’s a little secret basement in an abandoned building tucked away in the darker parts of Zaun, somewhere she figured no one would ever think to look, when you and Jinx first stumbled on this little abandoned building while exploring Zaun’s hidden alleys. The structure was half-buried under layers of graffiti and rust, but Jinx saw it as treasure—something forgotten by everyone else but perfect for the two of you. Together, you’d set up this place over the months, stringing fairy lights from the cracked ceiling, stacking old crates to make makeshift chairs, and even securing it with a series of hidden traps to keep intruders out.
The shadows stretch longer as you approach the building, slipping past the creaky metal door and down the stairs that lead to the basement. You disable the traps one by one, the steps so familiar you could do them in your sleep. Finally, you reach the heavy door that leads into the basement, taking a breath before pushing it open.
And there she is.
Jinx is slouched on the floor, leaning against the wall with her knees drawn up to her chest. Her eyes flicker with a mix of frustration and exhaustion, and you catch the way her hands keep fidgeting, as if even while sitting still, she can't quite find peace. She looks up when you enter, and something in her expression softens ever so slightly.
"Y/N," she mutters, sounding almost relieved. "Guess I’m not as good at hiding as I thought, huh?"
You close the door behind you, crossing the dimly lit room until you’re in front of her. “Not from me, anyway.”
She scoffs, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. You slide down to sit beside her, close enough that your shoulders are almost touching. For a moment, neither of you speak. The silence is comfortable, settling like a blanket around you both.
You glance over, studying her for a beat. “Rough day?”
She lets out a bitter laugh, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling. “Silco thinks he knows everything. Says I’m too… reckless, like he doesn’t know me by now.” Her fingers toy with a stray thread on her pants, pulling at it absently. “Sometimes I think he just doesn’t get it. Doesn’t get me.”
You nod, listening to every word. “Sometimes I don’t think he deserves to.”
Jinx looks over at you, that fire in her eyes simmering down, replaced by something softer, something almost vulnerable. She doesn’t say anything right away, but her hand inches toward yours, her fingers grazing your palm as if she’s testing the waters.
You intertwine your fingers, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “We don’t need him, you know,” you murmur. “We’ve got this place. It’s ours. Away from everyone else.”
She leans her head back, gazing around at the dim room, where the fairy lights cast soft, warm glows over the walls. It’s far from fancy, but it feels like home, like yours. The two of you worked to make it that way—a sanctuary in the chaos.
Her gaze drifts back to you, a small, genuine smile breaking through her tough exterior. “Guess that’s why I wanted to come here… I knew you’d find me.”
“Always,” you say softly, brushing a thumb over her knuckles.
For a while, you sit in comfortable silence, her head eventually finding its way to your shoulder. The weight of her against you feels reassuring, grounding, like the world outside doesn’t matter when it’s just the two of you in this little hidden corner of Zaun.
“You know,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper, “this place… I’d never let anyone else in here but you.”
Your heart skips a beat, and you turn slightly, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. “Good. Because I wouldn’t want to share it with anyone else.”
She smiles again, her eyes half-closed as she leans into you. In this moment, with the flickering lights casting shadows across the room and the muffled sounds of Zaun fading in the background, you both find a rare, quiet peace.
Jinx’s head grows heavier on your shoulder, her breathing slowing, steadying. You glance down to find her eyes closed, the furrow in her brow smoothed out. It’s rare to see her like this—unguarded, peaceful, away from the chaos that usually surrounds her.
Carefully, you shift, wrapping an arm around her to support her as you slowly stand up. She stirs slightly, but doesn’t wake, her head resting comfortably against your shoulder as you carry her over to the old, beaten-up couch you both dragged in here ages ago. Easing yourself down, you settle back with Jinx still in your arms, her body now draped across yours.
She mumbles something incoherent as she nestles closer, pressing her face against your chest. One of her arms wraps around you, clutching the fabric of your shirt as if you’re an anchor keeping her steady.
You can’t help but smile, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ear. She looks so serene, her usual smirk softened, her breathing deep and calm. Gently, you stroke her back, your fingers tracing light, soothing circles as she relaxes even further against you.
The warmth of her settles into you, a quiet comfort that makes the dim room feel like it’s lit up with something more than just fairy lights. Holding her like this, feeling her heartbeat thrum in sync with yours, it’s like all the weight of the world fades away.
As minutes slip by, you let your head rest back against the couch, one arm wrapped securely around her while your other hand continues to run softly up and down her back. You could stay like this forever, hidden away with her, in a place that’s just for the two of you.
In this little pocket of the world, it’s just you and her, and for now, that’s all you need.
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mayrose713 · 2 days ago
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Beautifully Cruel World-Chapter 9
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Series Masterlist | Previous | Next
ABO Non-Idol Stray Kids Universe Poly OT8 x Reader 18+ MDNI
Warnings in the Series Masterlist as well as any other information needed
Just so everyone knows, I have an end goal in mind but I honestly don't know how I'm fully getting there right now. So I hope everyone enjoys my scatter brained chapters
Chapter 9 
“Hey Binnie?” Y/n had woken up early knowing that Changbin does as well to either head to the gym in town or workout in the home gym.
“Morning pretty girl, you’re up really early.” He looks at the clock before grabbing a water bottle from the fridge having just come in from the home gym. “What’s up?”
“Could I use your phone while you finish working out?” She asks shyly. “To call my brother?”
“Of course baby.” He smiles, fishing his phone out of his packet before giving it to her. “I use the tablet and stereo in the gym anyways for music so you’re good to use it however long you need.
“Thanks.” She smiles and waits for him to go back into the gym before she decides to walk into the den, closing the door most of the way as she types in her brother's number and hits call.
“Hello?” A groggy voice that sounds like was just woken up answers fairly quickly.
“Hyuk? It’s Y/n.” 
“Holy shit, Y/n?” The voice perks up. “God you’ve had me so worried about you. I hadn’t heard from you in a bit and dad called saying he got a message from grandma and grandpa that you ran away for no reason. Where the fuck are you? Who’s phone are you calling from?”
“One of my fated alpha’s phone.” She tries to keep her voice light but in reality she’s about to break down. 
“Your fated alphas?” He sounds wary. 
Y/n sighs and starts explaining everything that had happened, including letting the injection wear off. 
“God I’m so sorry sis.” His heart breaks hearing everything she was put through. “I’m just glad you’re away from them and somewhere safe now.”
“Yeah.” She smiles through her tears. “This is the safest I’ve ever felt, really.”
“That’s good.” He sighs. “I want to meet your mates though.”
“Hyuk.” She whines at his overprotectiveness.
“Don’t give me that pup.” He scolds her. “Have they marked you yet?”
She hesitates. “...No.”
“Are they planning to?” 
“Well I believe so. A few of them said soon, so I’m sure they will.” She rambles.
“I’m just wanting to make sure Y/nn.” He tries to calm her down. “Don’t want them to take advantage of you, promising to mark you but never actually do just to get things from you and later sell you to the highest paying pack.”
“They wouldn’t do that.” She defends her mates but she isn’t sure if she’s trying to convince him or herself as she now starts to overthink everything.
“I’m just making sure.” Hyuk then sighs. “Listen, I’ve gotta go get ready for work. Text me when they get you your new phone and we’ll discuss meeting up soon.”
“Okay.” She nods even though he can’t see it. “Bye bro, love you.”
“Love you too sis, talk later.”
After she hangs up she takes in a shaky deep breath before letting the dam break and start sobbing in the nest. Little did she know that Changbin had finished his workout already and had heard her crying while talking on the phone. He didn’t eavesdrop or anything but stayed nearby until he heard her muffled talking stop and just her sobs come through the crack in the door. 
The alpha quickly walks in and when she sees him she lifts her arms up and he wraps himself around her, bringing her into his lap in the nest and gently rocks her as she cries into his shoulder.
“I’ve got you, pretty girl.” He whispers and coos at her. “You’re okay, just let it out.”
Chan opens the door having smelled her upset when he woke up and quickly came to find her. He gives Changbin a questioning look as he watches him soothe their omega.
“She called her brother.” Changbin mouths to him, slightly pointing to his discarded phone while trying not to disturb the girl in his arms.
The pack alpha nods and watches for a moment before leaving the two alone.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆
“We’re taking you shopping at the mall in the next town over today.” Jeongin hugs Y/n from behind as she leans against the counter watching Minho cook. 
“Everyone?” She leans back against him.
“No, just Hyunjin and I.” He places his chin on her shoulder. “Hyun still feels bad and said he wanted to be the one who takes you.”
“And you are gonna be under the same rules we have for Felix and Jisung.” Chan walks in. “Rule number one being, you don’t leave the property without an alpha or beta and you don’t leave the town without an alpha. You can be in town with just Hyunjin or Seungmin but leaving town you need one of the four of us alphas.” She nods in understanding. “Lix and Ji can’t drive so we don’t usually have to worry too much about it but we ask you to please follow this rule.”
Minho steps up to her with a spoon. “Try this.” She eats from the spoon and her eyes light up. “Good? Not too spicy?”
“I like it.”
Minho smiles, turning back to the stove. “Rule number two, if you’re leaving the house, even to walk around the grounds a bit, let one of us know.”
Changbin, who’s been making a protein shake, turns to the room “Rule number three, we don’t keep anything from each other. If somethings bothering you, talk to us, no matter what.”
“Rule number four.” Jeongin steps away from the omega to grab Chan’s wallet as Hyunjin walks into the room. “If you want to have someone visit, like your brother, let all of us know first to make sure it's good timing for all of us.” 
“Got it.” She nods, taking mental note of everything. 
“Ready princess?” Hyunjin grabs the car keys from the hook and Jeongin grabs her hand now having Chan’s credit card in his pocket. 
“Yeah.” She nods letting the younger alpha lead her to the front door.
“Get whatever you want or need, baby girl.” Chan follows along to walk them out. “Get any clothes, makeup or skin care you want and need. If there’s anything you want to decorate your room with, then get it. Don’t worry about pricings or how much you’ve already gotten, okay?”
“Yes alpha.” 
“Good girl.” He kisses her cheek and stands on the porch as he watches them get in the car and drive off.
The drive was quiet for the most part besides the music playing and the occasional questions. Y/n still felt a bit iffy around Hyunjin. He’s been better around her, but it’s awkward still.
She follows closely behind them walking through the mall as she looks around at the different stores they go by and Jeongin quickly grabs her hand when she starts to lag behind a bit. 
“Where do you want to go first?”
“Any clothing store is fine.” She mumbles and Hyunjin grabs her other hand leading the two towards a shop and her eyes widen at the amount of clothes.
“Have at it princess, pick out anything you want.” Hyunjin smiles down at her. 
“I don’t even know where to start?” She looks around at the different wracks of clothes.
“We’ll help you.” Jeongin squeezes her hand before taking her to the first rack. 
They all pick out different clothes and she tries them on, some of which she was surprised how much she liked on her as she’s used to having just worn leggings and t-shirts for the last few years. But the sundresses, shorts, skirts, and blouses the boys picked out she loved. She almost felt more like herself for the first time in her life. 
Several stores and trips back and forth from the car later they were almost done. They had even picked up her new phone Chan had called ahead to have ready for pick up.
“Channie hyung said the phone is already all set up for you.” Jeongin explains as he and Hyunjin are holding a few bags of skin care.”We’ll just have to charge it when we get home.”
“Any other stores?” Hyunjin asks, moving over to the mall's map directory. “Do you want to get some makeup?”
“No, I don’t like to wear makeup much.” She looks around. “Is there like a homegoods store or something so I can get stuff for my room?”
“Yeah, it’s on the other side of the mall.” Jeongin points on the map to show them. “How about you guys head over there and I’ll go take these bags to the car and bring it around in front of that store so it’d be easier to load it up.”
“Sounds good.” Hyunjin hands him the few bags he has before taking the omega’s hand leading her to the store. “What were you thinking for your room?”
“Just wanting to pick out some decor, and curtains, maybe a rug.” She starts to walk through the store. “Could you help me paint an accent wall?”
“Of course, we can stop by the hardware store in the town and grab paint.” He follows her to the curtains first. “What color were you thinking?”
“Purple…? Pink…? I’m not sure yet.” She looks through the curtains specifically stopping at the blackout curtains. “I wouldn’t mind having an artist's eye though on deciding what would go the best.”
“I can definitely help with that.” He starts to browse the curtains. “Is there a certain color of curtains and a rug you’re wanting?”
“I was thinking grey for the curtains.” She pulls a set of light grey curtains before handing them to him. “And I’m wanting a big fluffy white rug.” 
“We’re gonna need a cart for that then. I’ll go get one and I’ll meet you at the rugs?”
“Yeah.” She nods and watches him walk away before heading towards the rugs and start browsing. 
She finds a few fluffy rugs as she feels them to decide which one she wants as she waits for Hyunjin and Jeongin to come back. 
“Hey there little omega.” A deep voice is heard as a tall alpha comes up behind her. “Where’s your alpha at little one?” He places a hand on her hip causing her to tense up.
“He-he’ll be back soon.” Y/n stutters unsure what’s about to happen. 
He turns her around, still keeping her in place as he inspects her neck. “No bites? Meaning you’re unclaimed.”
“I-I don’t want any trouble.” She swallows hard, hoping for Jeongin or Hyunjin to be back soon, as she has flashbacks to how her grandfather blocked her path, not allowing her to leave. “P-please walk away.” 
“Why would I do that?” He growls, grip tightening on her waist. “You don’t belong to anyone, yet. We can change that right here and now though.”
“I don’t think so.” Jeongin’s growl is heard before he punches the alpha in the jaw. “Stay away from my omega.”
“Your omega?” The man taunts with a chuckle clenching the side of his face. “If she’s yours then why is she unmarked?”
“Innie.” Y/n gasps, her alpha looks ready to kill but she doesn’t get to move as Hyunjin comes up wrapping his arms around her.
“Don’t intervene.” He whispers as he holds her closely to him. “You’ll only get hurt.”
“But…” He turns her away from the scene as security comes to break up the commotion. 
Hyunjin continues to hold her as Jeongin gets questioned by security explaining how the strange alpha was threatening to claim his omega. Luckily with the security footage showing how uncomfortable Y/n is with the man,9 Jeongin is let go and asked not to come back to that mall again.
“I’m sorry.” Y/n softly cries into Hyunjins chest.
“No baby, I’m sorry.” The beta squeezes her. “I shouldn’t have left you alone, I wasn’t thinking. Felix and Jisung, even though they act like it, aren’t actual omegas so it's okay for them to be left alone for a few minutes in a store when we go to grab something. I should have stayed or at least had brought you with me, especially since you’re still unmarked. I’m sorry.”
The omega whimpers into his chest as Jeongin joins them, still angry, saying they should head back home and leads them to the parked car. Hyunjin helps Y/n into the back before taking the keys from the young alpha to drive. 
After a bit of no one talking Y/n looks up at them in the front seats and sighs. “When… when will you guys?”
“When will we, what?” Jeongin grunts, still a bit agitated from the situation and not happy with his beta for leaving her unattended. 
She shrinks back in her seat. “Never mind.” She whimpers and looks out the window watching the terrain go by the closer they get home.
When they pull up, Chan, Minho and Changbin are waiting outside to help bring in all of the bags. When the three of them step out of the car though, the alphas smell the soured scents causing their brains to overthink. 
“What happened?” Chan looks at all of them, Minho quickly goes to Y/n to check her over for injuries. 
“Hyunjin left Y/n alone in a store.” Jeongin glares at the beta. “And an alpha threatened to take her, probably would have if I hadn’t come back when I did.”
“Is that true?” Chan looks at Hyunjin, getting angrier when he nods. “What were you thinking?”
“I’m sorry.” The beta whines. “I wasn’t thinking okay, I forgot that she isn’t able to be left alone for a few minutes like Ji and Lix can.”
“Did you fight the alpha, Innie?” Changbin is looking at Jeongin’s face who nods and the omega now realizes that the stranger must have hit Jeongin back when Hyunjin turned her away.
“Are you okay kitten?” Minho moves her hair behind her ear and cups her cheek.
“Yeah?” She whispers not looking up at the alpha.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” He forces her to look at him and now sees the tears threatening to spill. 
“It’s nothing.” She brushes his hand away. 
Minho sighs and looks at his pack alpha who notices as well before telling Changbin to deal with Hyunjin as he moves to Y/n.
“Baby girl.” He places his hands on both of her cheeks looking down at her. “What did Changbin say rule number three was?”
A tear falls down her cheek. “We don’t keep stuff from each other. If somethings bothering me, talk to you guys.”
“That’s right.” He wipes away her tears. “So please talk to me, what’s wrong? Is it what happened? Did it scare you?”
“It did. It reminded me of how my grandfather blocked my path.” She mumbles. “But it’s not entirely that.”
“What is it then?” 
“The alpha said I was unmarked, that I don’t belong to anyone because of it and threatened to change that.” She mumbles which starts to make Jeongin mad again as Changbin soothes him. “And it makes me wonder when… when will you guys make me yours?”
“You’re already ours, pretty girl.” Changbin reassures her as he holds the youngest alpha.
“Others just think that omegas need to be marked like property or otherwise they're a free for all.” Minho had stayed close by still looking her over to make sure she’s okay. 
“Baby, just because we haven’t bitten you yet doesn’t mean you’re not ours.” Chan coos. 
Y/n bites her lip still holding back tears. “It just feels like I’m not being fully accepted.”
“Oh baby girl.” Chan pulls her into his chest and lets out soothing pheromones. “Please don’t feel that way. I promise we will soon, it’s just something that’s a bit more intimate than you might realize.”
“And you said I have to take you on a date first before I can do that.” Minho gives a cheeky smirk making her pout and playfully pushes him trying to hold back a smile.
Her smile doesn’t last long though as she’s reminded as to what Hyuk had told her on the phone this morning and starts to wonder if he is right. 
Chan and Minho look at each other as their omega’s scent goes from sweetening to sour again during the whole interaction. They can see her brain working overtime and know that they’re gonna need to get to work on claiming her as it seems their words aren’t fully convincing her anymore.
______________________________________________________________
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taeyongdoyoung · 3 hours ago
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wicked game
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summary: you try to seduce the unpopular virgin to win a bet with your stepbrother. your stepbrother wants to sleep with you and you want his car. but the virgin guy has more to offer... pairing: loser virgin!haechan x popular girl!reader genre: angst, romance, smut, high school setting warnings: the bet trope my beloved, manipulative stepbrother!jeno, ex-boyfriend!mark, innapropriate groping in school, one non-consensual cheek kiss, past man-eater y/n, lowkey corruption kink, lots of kissing, handjob, blowjob, eating out, attachment issues, protected sex (unbelievable), classmates to lovers, non-consensual photo-taking, breakfast in bed, break-up, no pain no gain author's note: this is loosely based on the movie Cruel Intentions minus the dying part; disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, i don't actually think Jeno is an A-hole, i just needed such a character for the sake of the plot word count: 3.7k
You're bored. Being the most popular, prettiest and richest girl in high school is not enough to satisfy your greed. Boys are literally throwing themselves at you in every corner. It's almost too easy. You want a challenge. Something to make the last year of school a memorable one. Something fun.
So, when your stepbrother Jeno presents you with an idea, you accept it eagerly.
"If you're so bored, why don't I propose a bet?"
"What kind of a bet?" you eye him curiously.
"See that guy Haechan? I heard he's a virgin and saving himself for his one ~true love~. How fucking pathetic is that?"
"So? What is it to me?" you scoff, though you already have a feeling where this is going.
"If you manage to seduce that fucking loser, I'll give you my Jaguar."
"Oh, that's very tempting," you smirk. "And if I don't?"
"Then, you'll sleep with me," Jeno whispers in your ear.
"Ew, as if. You're my brother," you make a gagging motion.
"Stepbrother," Jeno points out.
"Still, it's gross," you shake your head.
"Are you scared you'll lose?" Jeno sticks his tongue out.
"I haven't agreed to the bet yet," you answer.
But Jeno knows you too well. You are already thinking of ways to ruin that poor boy Haechan.
You approach him that same day, sitting on the empty seat on his desk. Asking him to do homework together...
"Why would I want to spend time with you?" Haechan spits out.
Ouch. Little one is too feisty for a regular loser. This might be more interesting than you initially thought.
"Why not? If you hang out with me, people will think you're cool," you try to attack where you believe it'll sting.
"So? Popularity isn't everything, you know?" Haechan rolls his eyes. "Besides, people who peak in high school spend the rest of their lives leading a mediocre, non-satisfying existence."
Damn. Pretty harsh. You didn't anticipate this would be so difficult. Oh well, all the more motivation to try harder.
"You admit it, then? That I'm at my peak right now," you smile flirtatiously, running a finger across his face.
"It doesn't matter to me where you think you are," Haechan glares at you, grabbing your finger and removing it from his skin. "As long as you get out of my face."
Gee, so aggressive.
"Did I ever do something to you?"
"No, but you messed with my best friend Mark's head. Leading him to believe you cared for him and then ditching him is so not cool. Now, piss off," Haechan grunts angrily.
You don't even remember half of the names of the guys you slept with. But you do remember Mark. He was really sweet. And if you could feel something at all, it would have been guilt. But back when you were with Mark, your mother had just announced she's getting re-married to Jeno's father. So, you were angry at everyone and everything. And you took it all out on Mark.
"Well, I can't change the past, so don't blame me without knowing the circumstances."
"It doesn't matter anyway. Mark found a girl much better than you who's treating him right."
"What about you? Got someone special taking care of you?" you touch him again, this time more forward and shameless, trying to elicit a reaction out of him. Sneaking your hand underneath the desk and caressing him fondly.
"It's n-none of your b-business," Haechan stammers but he doesn't remove your hand this time. Oh, he's so touch-starved this is going to be a lot of fun. For you.
"I could take care of you, you know? Turn all your wildest dreams into reality."
"I know what you are," Haechan shakes his head.
"A vampire!" you gasp in mock surprise.
"Ha-ha, very funny," Haechan fakes a smile. "You're a man-eater. You fuck around with guys and then you leave them to rot. I want nothing to do with you."
"Really? Then, why haven't you removed my hand yet?" you remind him, though perhaps you shouldn't have.
Haechan grabs your wrist, pushing you away firmly.
"You're wrong, you know," you try to convince him of your sincerity. "I'm just as eager to find someone who loves me. Someone worth staying for."
"And what, you expect me to believe that someone is me?" Haechan stares at you sceptically.
"Let's find out, shall we?" you give him a quick kiss on the cheek before he can escape.
And then, you let him be. Enough torture for day one.
You start interacting with Haechan every day. During the first month, you are consumed with thoughts of Jeno's bet. The abominable idea of sleeping with your stepbrother is enough to keep you going. Of course, you know he's not gonna force you into it. But you need the motivation to not lose the bet anyway. The gorgeous car is also pretty seductive.
During the second month, you are consumed with thoughts of Haechan. You begin to realize how lovely, clever and funny he is. And the fact he's even letting you spend time with him is enough to make you happy. You're no longer bored. Because everyday you have something fun to look forward to. You spend time at the school library, doing homework together, occasionally sending memes to each other. You go on little walks and picnics at the park. You even go to the cinema a couple of times, bonding over your shared love for horror movies.
During the third month, the miracle happens. Haechan decides he trusts you enough to invite you over to his place one evening. He even makes the point of notifying you that his parents aren't home. What does he mean by that? Is this an opportunity for you to finally seduce him?
Naturally, you don't get much homework done, before Haechan starts kissing you out of nowhere. You kiss him back eagerly.
"W-what are you doing?" you ask as you notice Haechan has started unbuttoning his jeans.
"I t-thought you wanted this. S-sorry," Haechan looks down, feeling ashamed all of a sudden. He's in a hurry to zip himself again. God, you feel so cruel.
"I d-do," you admit, no longer giving a shit about that stupid bet. "But I don't want to rush you into anything you're not ready for."
"So, you've heard about what I said at that fucking party?"
"What did you say?" you ask, even though you have an idea of what it involves.
"That I'm saving it for someone special," It being his virginity, you suppose. "Someone who loves me. To be honest, I was really drunk that night. I don't care all that much anymore."
"It's okay to have your principles, Haechan," you try to reassure him and stroke his soft hair gently. "I think it's pretty admirable, actually."
Haechan shakes his head, visibly disagreeing.
"Well, it's fine. I'm ready for this, I promise. Just...don't leave right after, okay?" he pouts.
"Oh, Haechan, of course I won't leave," you reply and surprise yourself in that you really mean it.
Kissing him deeper, you finish what he started and take off his jeans. You touch his cock softly, as if it's the most precious thing in the world. You've done this hundreds of time with guys you didn't give a fuck about and felt nothing, the actions methodical and quick. But this, right now, is more special than your limited vocabulary could ever describe. You realize you genuinely don't want to hurt him. You bow down and envelop your lips around his length. He gets hard easily, considering it's his first time. You suck on him a couple of times and he cums even faster than you anticipated. But for some reason, it's never tasted sweeter.
"S-sorry," Haechan mumbles shyly.
"It's okay, my sweet boy," you coo in his ear, after you're done swallowing his cum. You run your hands through his hair once again. God, it's so silky. You could never get enough of him.
"W-what do I d-do now?" he asks cutely.
"Whatever you want, mon ange," you kiss him once more.
"C-can I eat you out?" Haechan inquires.
Oh, so virgin boy is not so clueless, after all.
"Sure, I guess," you shrug. Not really a huge fan of that, the few times guys have offered, they quickly grow tired of it and could never make you cum as hard as you could by yourself. But it's okay. If Haechan wants to...
"Just...guide me, okay?" he pleads adorably and soon, you find out he needs no guidance at all.
What he lacks in experience, he definitely makes up for with enthusiasm. He seems so eager to please you, licking and biting and kissing your pussy that you cum faster than you have in...well, ever, actually. You grip his hair for support, panting and chanting his name like a prayer.
"Was that alright?" Haechan feigns a self-conscious smile, though judging by your reaction, his smile is already turning into a proud smirk. That bastard.
"Are you kidding? It was...out of this world," you say honestly. Funny thing about honesty is how something that used to be so difficult for you comes so easily to you when you're with Haechan.
"Glad to hear," he grins widely. You want to kiss him every second till the rest of your life. The thought terrifies you.
"I s-should go," you try to get up. You can't do this. You can't be the one to take his virginity. Considering how this all started. It'd be too cruel. He should be with someone special, someone loves him more than anything, someone who'd never hurt him.
"W-what, w-why?" Haechan asks, grabbing your wrist in a panic, not wanting to let go. "I thought you liked me."
"I do like you. I like you so much. That's the problem."
"It doesn't have to be," Haechan disagrees, pushing you back on the bed. "Please, let me."
And here you thought you'd be the one begging him to have sex with you.
"O-okay," you can no longer find it in yourself to deny him. To deny your growing feelings...
Haechan digs through his jeans and pulls out a condom. His hands are shaking and he's having a hard time putting it on so you help him and pull him out of his misery. You give him a soft, reassuring smile, paired with a quick squeeze of his hand. He smiles back just as fondly.
And then he slides inside you so easily. As if he belongs there. As if he's meant to be yours. You kiss him desperately to distract yourself from the truth. To hide the tears that are threatening to come out.
"You f-feel so g-good," Haechan grunts in your ear.
"So do you, baby," you admit sincerely.
This time around, he lasts longer, fucking you until your release comes for the second time. He cums right after, with his hands touching your cheeks, his lips on your neck and his heart on his sleeve.
"Wanna stay inside you forever," he whispers once it's over.
"That wouldn't be very practical," you chuckle. Though you would like nothing more.
But he gets up to get rid of the condom and then comes back, hugging you tightly.
"Can you be my girlfriend?" Haechan blurts out. "I know you probably don't like clingy guys but...considering you've been pursuing me for the past three months, I thought..."
"I'll be your girlfriend," you agree rightaway, not giving a shit about the consequences. "Of course, I will."
He laughs, the sound so precious and filled with joy it breaks your heart.
Maybe he never has to know how it all began. Maybe you could hide it from him forever. Maybe...you could allow yourself to be happy. Just this once.
Soon, Haechan falls asleep, feeling comfortable around you. You know what you have to do, but you feel like shit anyway. You secretly take a picture of his half-naked figure sleeping soundly. You sigh quietly and send the photo to your stepbrother Jeno.
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Then, you put your phone down, trying to forget about the whole ordeal. You cuddle up next to Haechan and enjoy his warmth until you fall asleep.
The next morning, you wake up before Haechan and quickly run out to make him some breakfast. You have no idea when his parents will be home but you don't want this to be their first impression of you. So, you leave the breakfast on Haechan's nightstand with a little note.
See you at school, boyfriend! XOXO, Y/N.
Rushing back home, you are satisfied when Jeno gives you the car keys to his Jaguar without protesting. Your stepbrother may be kinda freaky, but at least he's a man of his word. What gives you the creeps is the slight smirk on his face as he hands you the keys. As if he didn't lose the bet. As if he's the winner.
You try not to think about it too much, as you get dressed for school, excited to see Haechan again. You still can't believe he asked you to be his girlfriend. That pretty, sweet boy makes you so unbelievably happy. You look forward to spending more moments in his sunny company.
Haechan wakes up to the smell of warm pancakes, covered with chocolate and strawberries and accompanied by coffee. It immediately brings a smile on his face, which only becomes wider as he sees the little note you left him. He giddily enjoys the breakfast and then rushes to get dressed for school. You're his girlfriend! He's never had a girlfriend and he's so pleased you're being so nice to him. Maybe you really are better than people say and all that past drama was just everyone being jealous of your beauty and popularity...This is going to be the best day of his life.
But when he gets to school, everything changes. He knows that he's considered one of the "losers" in the hierarchy but usually people just ignore him and don't pay attention to him. He's fine with that, really! But today, whenever he walks by, people are snickering and whispering something. It feels so weird and makes him uncomfortable. He can't quite hear what they're saying and this kind of unexpected treatment is killing him.
He goes to his friend Mark to ask him what's up.
"Bro...I don't know how to tell you this," Mark looks away, as if the thing is so bad he can't even say it.
Haechan impatiently begs him to just enlighten him as to why everyone is giving him weird looks all day.
Mark sighs and shows him a secreenshot. There, he sees a photo of himself, half-naked and sleeping soundly. Fuck, that's from last night. And what the messages between you and your stepbrother Jeno reveal...shocks Haechan out of his senses. No...no way it was just a bet. No way you spent three months courting him for a fucking car?! This can't be true. It's gotta be Photoshopped or something.
"Listen, buddy, I warned you that she likes messing with guys and then leaving them."
"No, she...she really seemed to care about me," Haechan is still in denial as his vision becomes blurred with tears.
He runs away, unable to believe what is happening. He needs to speak to you. Hear it from your own lips. To be sure this is real and not just a sick joke.
When he finally finds you, he grabs your wrist as he did just yesterday. But this time, he's not doing to get you to stay. But because he's furious.
"Is it true? Did you really make a bet with Jeno on whether you can fuck me? Did you seriously do all of that over a car?!"
Your facial expressions are enough of an answer. Guilt. Something you never thought you were capable of.
"H-haechan, I swear I can explain," you beg him to hear you out.
"Explain? How can you explain that?" Haechan shakes his head, letting go of your hand. You try to touch him again but he shoves you off furiously.
"It was just a bet at the very beginning. But somewhere along the way, I really started having feelings for you, I promise," you cry passionately. "I don't care about the car, I'll fucking thrash it, I just wanted to get Jeno off my back."
Haechan takes a step back, feeling so betrayed. So...used.
"Whatever you say, I don't think I can believe you anymore. Was it fun, at least? Was this all just a wicked game to you?"
"N-no, it wasn't, I swear it," you are bawling at this point, feeling so pitiful. You don't care if the whole school sees. You only care that Haechan understands. You never meant things to go this far... "I truly care about you, Haechan."
"Yeah?" he scoffs, annoyed. "You only care about yourself."
And with that he leaves. And you lose the one person you truly, genuinely loved.
This is the worst day of your life.
Throughout the rest of the school year you don't dare approach him again. You know you fucked up so badly. You can't even look at that stupid car, let alone consider driving it, so you sell it. Partly because you're angry at Jeno for spreading the screenshot around the whole school. Partly because you no longer want to have anything that will remind you of the biggest mistake you ever made.
With the money you get for the car and some of your own savings, you secretly sponsor Haechan, Mark and their other friends' singing club. You don't even want Haechan to find out. It just...feels right. They could use the extra help.
As the final year of school nears its end, you begin to imagine a future where you never get to see Haechan again. At least, during the past couple of months you had the privilege of looking at him from a distance. But the idea of a world with no Haechan is like a world with no sun.
So, you decide you have to do something as soon as possible. He doesn't have to forgive you or accept you as a girlfriend again. You just want to be in his life in some form.
As you approach the school's radio booth, you feel all the bad things of your past coming back to bite you in the ass. Maybe you deserve to be forever alone. But you need to give it a try. It's your last chance.
"Hi, Mark," you greet your ex-boyfriend.
"What do you want, Y/N?" he sighs, not at all happy to see you.
"Before I get to that, let me just say how sorry I am for the way I treated you in the past. I'm really happy you're finally with someone who appreciates you for how totally awesome you are."
"That's...unexpectedly nice of you to say," Mark eyes you suspiciously. "We were never right for each other anyway. So, what do you want?"
"I want to apologize to Haechan. Through a message broadcasted to the whole school..."
"Gee, and you couldn't do it the old-fashioned way, face to face?" Mark jokes.
"Haechan doesn't wanna see me," you say, fully convinced.
"How would you know without trying?" Mark asks. Has...Haechan told him something? No, you couldn't allow yourself to hope.
"I just know, okay? Please, let me do this. We're graduating in one week, this might be my last chance to talk to Haechan."
Mark nods, agreeing.
"Five minutes," he takes off his headphones and vacates the seat in the radio booth for you.
"Thank you! I mean it," you have never been more grateful for anything.
Mark shrugs as if it's not a big deal and leaves you to it.
"I want to dedicate this so someone I hurt," you speak into the microphone. "Someone who didn't deserve it. Someone very dear to me. Someone I still care deeply about. Haechan, I'm so incredibly sorry, please, give me another chance."
And you start singing.
The world was on fire and no one could save me but you It's strange what desire will make foolish people do I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you
Your voice is off-key a couple of times and halfway through the song you start crying inconsolably, all the guilt and pain consuming you. The whole school is probably laughing at you but you can no longer bring yourself to care. The only thing that matters is that Haechan hears this.
When you finish the song, you leave the radio booth and are surprised to find Haechan right outside the door, willing to talk to you.
"H-haechan," you stammer and barely resist the urge to give him a hug. You don't want him to feel pressured or anything.
"I'll give you a second chance on one condition. I want Jeno's Jaguar," Haechan jokes.
"Too bad, I already sold it and donated the money to your music club so you guys can get new instruments and stuff."
"YOU DID WHAT?!" Haechan exclaims. He doesn't sound angry, though, just...shocked.
"Sorry, sorry, I know it wasn't my place. But it was so unfair the football team and the cheerleading team get so much money but no one cares about the arts."
"Okay, okay, I guess this is better than that ugly car," Haechan chuckles. The car is not ugly. Not even a little bit. But you appreciate Haechan all the more for saying that.
"Can you really forgive me?" you ask desperately, eyes still watery.
"I can forgive you but I'll probably never forget," Haechan admits with a sigh. "If you break my trust again..."
"I won't, I swear!" you vow seriously. "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you and treating you the way you deserve. You're the best person I've ever met, Haechan. If you'll have me, I want to be around you forever."
"Forever is a long time" Haechan muses out loud. "Considering we're going to college...I don't even know where you're applying."
"I'll go wherever you go," you say hurriedly.
"You can't give up on your dreams just for me, though."
"I'm not. You're my dream, Haechan. You're my sun and I want to be in your orbit. If you'll allow me, that is," you can't take it any longer and hold his hand softly, asking, begging for that second chance not to slip away.
"I'll allow it," Haechan smiles sweetly. "Let's run towards our dreams together, from now on."
"I won't let you down," you promise from the depths of your heart.
And you finally, truly mean it.
The End
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bunny-1111 · 2 days ago
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The Vow Of Us - Theo Nott series C1
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Synopsis: here
Word count: 1.7k
In the quiet Slytherin common room, unspoken tension simmers between her and Theo Nott. Drawn together by a dangerous, undeniable pull, they struggle to resist the feelings they can’t afford to acknowledge. But the closer they get, the harder it becomes to stay away.
CHAPTER ONE
The Slytherin common room was thick with quiet tonight, the sort of uneasy stillness that made secrets feel heavier, suffocating. It was a hush that settled over you like a blanket, pressing in from all sides. You should have left minutes ago. Should have walked out, turned your back, and forgotten about the ache inside your chest. But here you were, frozen by the warmth of the fire, unable to break the silence.
Like all things in your life, love was decided. It was never yours to choose. Your parents had done the choosing long before you were old enough to understand the weight of it. Prepped from the age of eleven, arranged and organised; you would marry Draco Malfoy after you graduate; he would marry your best friend, Pansy Parkinson. There would be no fighting this. There would be no running, no saving what could be, what scarcely is. 
His footsteps were soft, almost inaudible, but you could feel the shift in the air as he stalked closer, and it made you shiver involuntarily. Every nerve in your body was alert to his nearness, your skin prickling with the weight of his presence. The silence in the room was oppressive, the crackling wood the only sound, a reminder of the danger they both found themselves in. It’s so easy to be heard, so easy to be found out.
It was as if the whole room had narrowed to just the two of you, the fire crackling in the background a mere reminder of how close you both were to the edge.
You couldn’t look at him. Not yet. Not now. Not when you could feel him, feel every step he took toward you like he was pulling you into him without even touching you. The temptation to let go, to lean back and feel him behind you, was there, so strong it almost consumed you. But no. Not here. Not yet.
You were tempted to jump into the flames, but you felt your skin burning anyway, piercing with the heat of the thought of him, Theodore Nott.
He dared to stalk even closer, the only sound, the crackling of the wood in front of you, the silence a constant reminder of how careful they had to be. It was so easy to be heard, so easy to be found out. He was too close; every nerve in your body was painfully aware of it. 
The warmth of his breath against your ear made you shiver involuntarily, the feeling both familiar and foreign all at once. You should move away. You should stand up, put some distance between you, tell him to leave, tell him to go back to Pansy. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat almost choking you.
“You’re too close,” it came out as barely above a whisper, trying to ignore your heart pounding.
“Step back.” You knew it was futile. You knew he wouldn’t listen.
He didn’t move, didn’t pull away. You could feel him there, just behind you, a presence you couldn’t escape. The space between you was smaller than it’s ever been.
“I can’t,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. He was close now, so close that his words hit you like a physical blow. The tension in his voice told you everything you needed to know. He was fighting himself. Fighting what he wanted.
You bit your lip, forcing a breath to steady the trembling in your hands. You tried again, your voice barely more than a rasp. “Step back.” It was a command, a plea, both tangled in the space between you. You knew the moment your voice cracked at the end of the sentence. He knew, too. You didn’t mean for your voice to crack at the words' end, dismembering all absolute conviction of wanting him to step away from you. Come closer, your mind screamed.
"I can't," he sustained sternly. This time, his tone was rough and unyielding, like he was fighting a losing battle with himself. His jaw was tight, his fists clenched as if he were struggling to rein himself in.
The air was thick with something neither of them could name, but both knew it existed. You could feel it, sharp and bright, like a live wire between them. They were so close, almost unbearably so, and yet there was nothing they could do about it.
The large room suddenly felt so small, so enclosed. Your back still towards him, you could only guess that he was at arm's reach.
Shutting your eyes, the darkness behind your eyelids surrounded you as you inhaled too much of his cologne. Time stopped, and as you imagined leaning your head back, you knew it would fall to rest on his chest. If you tilted it to the left and rose to your tiptoes, you would land in his neck.
But then his hand reached for yours, and reality crashed back in an instant. You snapped your hand away before you even realised what you’d done, stepping back, forcing the distance between you to grow, an appropriate step back you convinced yourself.
When you met his sharp face, a soft smile played on his lips, but when his eyes danced between you and the new distance between you both, a frown painted his face.
"I thought I’d find you here," he murmured, gesturing to the fire and back to you, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to seek you out.
"I thought I told you not to go looking for me," you replied, avoiding his gaze, knowing full well that your words didn’t carry the weight they should. Because you wanted him to look for you.
“We shouldn’t be here,” you said, barely able to keep your voice steady. You knew it was a lie, a lie you’d told yourself a thousand times before. You knew you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. “We can’t be here together,” you confessed, the words bitter on your tongue.
It was his eyes. His gaze found yours despite the distance, and when it did, you knew it was over. His eyes betrayed everything—every shred of unspoken love, every agonising admission of what could have been, what could still be if you dared to let it. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. You honestly considered wearing sunglasses indoors, anything to block the way he saw through you.
"Hm," he hummed. He did that often, hummed in agreement yet consistently ignored what he was agreeing to. "I couldn’t wait," he said, taking long steps closer. "I refuse it," he confessed, hands planted on his face, rubbing his eyes in distress.
"Please," you weakly pleaded. "It’s just another day, and I’ll see you in our spot, alright?" you continued.
He said nothing but opened a gap in his fingers to see you through his covered eyes.
"Alright?" you repeated.
"Yes," he finally gave in to your formality. What higher fucking power is punishing me away from this girl? he thought to himself as he scanned your silhouette.
Hiding. Sneaking around. It’s killing both of you slowly, a slow burn that neither of you can stop.
Every second around him made you hold your breath, scared that if you looked too long or paid attention to the quick touches he gave you, you could crumble, and you would be finished.
You watched his demeanour; he wasn't careful enough lately, sloppy excuses to escape Pansy, too quick to take the same couch as you in the common room, too impatient, too unruly, unlike his usual self.
"Teddy," you hushed, the space between you both still too large. You knew he would take hold of you soon.
Timing was never on your side. A sudden noise from the doorway snapped both of you out of your trance, his presence like a cold gust of wind. Theodore straightened himself up.
"Draco’s looking for you," Enzo said, warming his hands by the fire.
The words burned more painfully than the fire in front of you ever could. You wanted to hiss at the thought. You now had to leave Theodore, without a kiss, a hug, a touch, or a smile, without anything, for Draco.
Don’t look at me, Theodore. Don’t watch me right now. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I have to leave you in this room. I’m sorry we have to constantly slip away from each other. You wanted to drop to the floor and crawl across the floorboards all the way to Theo.
You watched Theo, from the corner of your eye, join the space by the fire, Lorenzo deciding the two of you, probably for the better.
"I should go; goodnight," you said, excusing yourself.
You didn’t look back as you made your way toward the door, not even once, not until your fingers closed around the cold handle.
But you could feel his eyes on you. You always did.
At the last moment, before you stepped out into the hallway, you glanced back over your shoulder, catching his gaze from across the room. Theodore’s lips moved, forming the words you’d heard so many times before.
"Tomorrow. Promise?"
You nodded once, briefly. A silent agreement, as always. But this time, the promise tasted like ash on your tongue.
The heavy wooden doors closed behind you with a finality that felt like the end of something. The end of everything you wanted, everything you needed. Leaving behind everything you held dear in this cruel world, the one person you needed but couldn’t have.
And yet, you still had to keep walking.
...
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miss0atae · 21 hours ago
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Random Thoughts about Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (EP 7 - 8) :
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I think the hardest part when you review a series is when you have to write something about the end. I usually avoid writing about the end of a series because I never really know where to start and how to finish it. I guess, it's also because it is usually hard for me to let go of a universe and characters I discovered and liked. I don't like saying goodbye. This series has been a very eventful ride. Do Hoe and Ju Yeong didn't have an easy life and they tried very hard to make it, but things weren't going as smoothly as it should be. I have to admit, after episode 5 and 6, I thought they would never make it. It seems so complicated for them to have a happy ending and I'm surprised, but happy by how they made it anyway. I said it before, but I really had difficulties to follow the story on the last two previous episodes. This feeling stayed during episode 7, but episode 8 was better and easier to follow. I guess, it's because we finally knew everything of what happened in the past and how it led the characters where they were in the present. It's a story about how violence and abuse can be so damaging on your life and impact a lot of your actions. It was a very sad story for the most part. It was deeply emotional for me and I felt very down after watching the episodes because I felt so much for the characters and I wished I could find a way for them to be happy. I was afraid the story would end badly, but I'm deeply grateful the story offered us a happy ending.
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Like most viewers had guessed, Do Hoe lied and forged his diploma and when he tried to help his abused student, the mother of the child who went to the same school he was supposed to have graduated from, found out about the truth. Do Hoe had tried for a long time to make people forget about his past and to make them impressed by his success. He was very afraid of being like his father and failing to accomplish something. He was living an illusion because through this illusion he felt like he escaped his past. However, it didn't free him for the chains of the past. I think it wasn't that easy to live in this illusion anyway. How hurtful it must have been to keep failing the college entrance exams. We saw how Do Hoe pride himself about how he was doing his best to study. He wanted to graduate from this “Hasoul University” because it's the top university and graduating from this school would bring him the admiration of others. Do Hoe wanted to be more than the son of a violent father who failed. I don't think he ever really liked lying or pretending he really had this exams. That's why he kept hiding from Ju Yeong. The problem is that Do Hoe was suffering from transgenerational trauma. He was afraid of repeating the same patterns and attitudes of his father. His curse was this trauma he inherited from his father.
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I think the story didn't really answer the questions about how to break the cycle of transgenerational trauma (it would have taken more than 8 episodes), but they made a good statement by the end of episode 7: to be able to move on, you need to heal from this first. I guess that's what happened when Do Hoe and Ju Yeong came back to the taekwondo school of Do Hoe's father and break or burn things from over there. It was the step to write down the beginning of their healing journey. From this point, they could start again. They learned to forgive themselves from whatever thoughts they had about being responsible. Do Hoe needed to have his redemption. Yes, people learned about his lies and his probation means he got another chance. It was truly amazing to see him get this new chance of becoming who he really wants to be without the burden of his past. I'm glad Ju Yeong was around him and encouraging him to grasp this new chance to the fullest. Being able to start anew and knowing you are loved can make you do many things. I think that's what Do Hoe feels. It was very cute and charming to see him and Ju Yeong being happy and enjoying this little domestic life together. They both deserve it. I'm just a little sad we didn't get to see them more in this happy place, but the story was not only about their love, but more about how to break the trauma from the previous generation. The love story was just the cherry on top.
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In some way, I'm pretty impressed by Ju Yeong's resilience. He also ha a very complicated life and the way he dealt with his own trauma was pretty different from Do Hoe. He wasn't loved that much by his family, he also was abused and beaten by Do Hoe's father and in the end he tried hard finding Do Hoe and being with him. I sometimes feel the story didn't give him enough time to show his own response and healing from this past. I guess, it's because it's so linked to Do Hoe's own trauma that if one of them start to be free from it, the other one would follow too. Ju Yeong's love for Do Hoe is truly something endearing to watch. Around him, Do Hoe is able to be happy and to express himself more. He was always someone quite reserved, but when Do Hoe is with Ju Yeong, he cries, laugh, and stop holding himself. It was always Ju Yeong for Do Hoe. He admitted it himself, if he had been successful, he would have tried to find Ju Yeong. However, before he wasn't happy or successful the way he wanted so he kept avoiding him (at least until his dad's death). It was pointless because Ju Yeong doesn't care about this. He cares about Do Hoe being well and he wants to help him achieve his dreams. That's what matters to Ju Yeong. I really liked this character. Ju Yeong's healing journey started when he met Do Hoe's again. It was his own way of rebound from adversity as a strengthened and more resourceful person. When they were separated, he was just this guy who cried when seeing the snow, but after he was the one who helped Do Hoe stop his “curse”.
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I also want to add something about Hyeon Ho. Again, I feel like the story didn't give us enough things about him. We know he used to bully Do Hoe and as the viewers we guess that it's because he rejected, at first, his attraction to him. Then, for 10 years he stayed around Do Hoe and he tried to be more than a friend to him, unsuccessfully. He knew about the truth of the falsification of his certification and he tried to help him. He didn't do well all the time, and it's easy to not like him for his past behavior towards Do Hoe. I think he regretted his actions. I felt bad for him because I feel he truly loved Do Hoe, but he was unable to understand him and to get past the mask he was wearing. Hyeon Ho never got to see parts of Do Hoe, even if he stayed around him for such a long time. It must hurt, especially if you have feelings for someone. I wish we saw him get to have someone to care for him in the end. We just have to hope after this phone call with Do Hoe that he tried to find his own happiness with someone else. He did try caring for Do Hoe. It didn't help him break from his trauma, but he was there nonetheless. It's true that Do Hoe never gave him his tears or his laugh. He was always so reserved around him, even after all these years. I think the last episode really made me see Heyon Ho in a different way. It was interesting.
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In this end what did I think about "Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo"? It was a compelling story, sometimes confusing and I wish they had more time to really answer the few questions I had or the scenes I wanted to see. This story was really more about resilience, freeing someone from trauma than it was a love story. It's not a bad thing, but it wasn't exactly what I thought it would be. I think it's a must-watch and I will never watch it again. It's the type of story, I can only watch once. The happy ending is pleasant and I'm glad the main characters got it. I really wanted them to have one. I would not say it will be part of my favorite series I watched this year because it wasn't easy to watch. Korean BL usually have a bittersweet taste for me and it's not really the taste I'm looking for. I liked all the reviews I read about them and it was nice to talk about it with some of you here.
Thanks again for reading my own review. It was a great ride with all of you too.
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invisiblegarters · 3 days ago
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Heads up that this contains very light information about the THK novelization.
I can't say I agree with a lot of this.
I feel like this is essentially turning on a romance channel and then complaining about all the romance. I get that it can be frustrating to want more and then not get it, but I don't feel like these shows ever promised us that. Kidnapped trailer made it very clear that it was mostly going to be about romance with some action on the side (as well as taking every opportunity possible to get Ohm half naked, thumbs up show). Only Friends mock trailer basically gave us everything we needed to put the pieces of the ending together, not to mention Jojo said it like four times. Khaotung spoiled the SandRay endgame before the show had even aired, lol. The Heart Killers trailers are much the same.
And Jojo is once again on Twitter telling us exactly what he's doing. If people choose not to believe him or to expect something different anyway, that's not his or the show's fault. This is supposed to be 10 Things I Hate About You with guns. Did you watch 10 Things I Hate About You and get surprised that Patrick and Kat wound up together in the end? That Bianca and Cameron became a couple? That the story mostly focused on the romance between them? It's a romcom. Hell, even the grittier version of Jojo's romance with guns had the main trio all end up together (even if I was so upset that my unexpected fave didn't make it that I couldn't actually enjoy that the first time I watched)! This isn't a phenomenon that happens only with BL - most romances have the main couple stay together even when they really really shouldn't. It's a staple. No one has to like it but it shouldn't be a surprise.
There's also been a lot of chatter about how Jojo wanted to break up the couples in OF and couldn't because of capitalism and the awful fangirlies, but I really don't think that was the case. I have looked for anything where he says that he wanted to work with no couples at all, and all I can find is him saying that he knew he wanted Mark and Neo for Nick and Boston from the beginning.
And considering they were the only non paired couple (despite Neo's best efforts, lol), that makes a lot of sense when you consider that they were also the only couple in the show to break up. I think it's less that Jojo was being forced into using cps and more that there were always meant to be two endgame couples from the beginning. People just took the Nick and Boston casting and Jojo's comments about them and ran with them to fit their own narrative. Now full disclosure, I have had to base this mostly on interviews - I don't have a twitter account so searching there is rough for me. If there is something on there that contradicts me, please bring it to my attention. I have zero problems admitting when I'm wrong. :D
Now as for THK, is it going to be good? This might get me in some hot water which I do generally try to avoid, lol, but I've read the novel so no. I have to say that for me personally I don't think it will turn out to be something I am into, not even as a turn my brain off and enjoy the pretty and ridiculous (which is what I do with Kidnap, incidentally, and I am having a great time even though I've been missing Title and would love him to come back and be hilarious) kind of way. But do I think that's going to be the fault of pair brands or the fangirlies? No. It's more because Jojo plays favorites with his actors, and always has. The ones he likes best get the best characterization and more stuff to do in general. Pretty much without fail. It's something I've noticed about his shows for a while now and it's easier to ignore in a show that is more of an ensemble (unless one of the ones that he's ignoring is someone you personally enjoy), but this isn't an ensemble show. I think there are shades of this bias already in the trailer, and if the novel matches up to the show as accurately as people expect, well. It will be even more obvious from the first episode exactly who this show is a vehicle for, and it ain't a pair at all.
That said, even if this annoys me personally, if it winds up as I expect I will just not watch. That's the only power I have here, and I'm okay with that. It's Jojo's thing and I really don't feel l have the right to tell him he shouldn't be doing it. Not every show is for me, and frankly if I was getting sick of GMMTV as a whole I would just stop tuning in. There are other companies that are rising up and doing their thing, and they are producing content I enjoy. There are other countries producing QL that I love. And I'm lucky I guess in that even though I enjoy a show that explores deeper themes or points out injustices or has something it absolutely wants to say (there are more I'm sure but a few that come to mind off the top of my head are Not Me, and I know you don't like it but The Eclipse (knowing the background of that one makes the anger in it really transparent to me), The Warp Effect (not a BL really but counting it anyway, and actually hilariously this is a great example of a show that I was annoyed with having a pat ending. But my annoyance doesn't change anything, or make what was being done less apparent. It just means that I wanted something else and that's okay but it's not their fault I didn't get it), my bread and butter is actually characters. I love thinking about why characters do what they do and dissecting the shit out of their motivations and reactions. Gimme a complex character over a complex plot any day. Not that we can't have both (and the ideal show does), but even if we do I'm always gonna focus more on characters. So in the end shows like Only Friends work for me because there's a lot to unravel there on a character level, although as I already said a lot more for some than others. Maybe that makes me a pleb or will get me judged as unintelligent but I've looked deep into my soul and decided that's okay, lol. 
And it's not that I think that these shows (or my faves) and what they do shouldn't be criticized or anything like that, that's absolutely silly. People have all the right in the world to criticize. I just think that it sometimes reaches a point where it starts to feel like people are watching this stuff just to get mad. And honestly I just think that that sounds miserable. The best lesson I ever learned was that when it comes to my leisure activities, if I'm not having a good time it's okay to quit.
I'm not expecting agreement; I think the two of us look at things very differently on the whole, and that's fine. I just wanted to add my two cents. I absolutely think that stuff is being done within the genre you would love, I just think that GMMTV is not really the place to find it, nor do I really think they ever promised that.
Hey,
I'm not 100% sure how this works. Also this is more of an opinion than a question. I just feel the need to brain dump. You are under no obligation to reply. 😁
I fear that First and Khaotung are being wasted at/by GMMTV. They're both stellar actors and seem to have the sensibilities to tackle more serious material.
I feel like coming off Not Me, the themes in The Eclipse kinda went over my head. My fear was and still is that I didn't understand all the nuances. And that's why I felt like the show was lacking. Also I think the very first preview set it up as an entirely different show (more supernaturalmystery/thriller) in my head, so there was a disconnect there as well.
Their next project was Moonlight Chicken where both of them shined as actors but negligibly as a BL pairing. Having said that, they seem to be on very solid ground in the BL fandom - I am referring to their fan meets.
Only Friends was a masterclass of acting as far as FirstKhaotung were concerned (i was all about Ray and Sand), but I think the overall reputation as show that fell flat on its face overshadowed or at least took away (for me) from the gravity of FK.
And now we're here. With The Heart Killers and I am very wary of how Ota all going down. I see that the final trailer got over million views and I'm happy for them, but based on I think the absolute travesty that was OF, my expectations for this show are on the ground.
I really want more of an insight into how projects are picked up and distributed inside GMMTV (if you ha e any, I'm dying to know). I feel like they would benefit greatly from being on a show like PS I Hate You or something like Peaceful Property.
It feels like they're backsliding in terms of material given. Which I am sure is a) not their fault and b) me possibly being weird and dramatic in the wee hours of the morning. But I wanted to get it off my chest and I was reading your previous reviews when I felt, and then gave into the impulse to write to you.
Also I'm a MaxTul girly too and somehow, you made me want to give Make it Right another chance.
Have a great week ahead and keep up the absolutely exceptional work! ❤️
NIHILISTIC! It's great to hear from you! And thank you for the compliments!
TW for girlies out there who are not Nihilistic: this post will contain criticisms of The Heart Killers trailer. Read at your peril, delicate hearts!
I'll go backwards to save the biggest stuff for last. If you write anything about Make It Right, please tag me! @bengiyo and I always give a little DJ air horn to each other when we've nabbed another one into the broader cultural reconsideration of this AMAZING show. MaxTul, man. Nobody beats them! (Okay, almost, Tul admits he wasn't the strongest actor, but. We'll let it slide, dahling!) Chemistry, humor, pride representation, everything, they're great. I yelped when I saw them in Triage!
Okay, so you are a FirstKhao girlie, and you're worried about what The Heart Killers bodes. (Out of transparency, I have The Heart Killers tag filtered because of Only Friends PTSD. I'm gonna filter my own post!) For you, Nihilistic, I just watched the trailer for it.
I will get to all your questions about the GMMTV model in a moment.
Now, out of even MORE transparency, I am watching the MESS that is Kidnap right now, and listen, it's NOT GOOD. I'm fucking not even writing about it anymore, I'm just reblogging the sessy gifs. I am watching it to support Ohm Pawat, and am hoping that this partnership with Leng Thanaphon will hopefully lead to better scripts.... somewhere. (Or at least, better scripts for Ohm at a place like One31 or Channel 3. I also hope Ohm keeps up his anti-branded pair stance, but if GMMTV forces him to pair permanently with Leng, it won't be a fucking surprise, and more on that below.)
To focus specifically on THK for a sec: the THK trailer evoked a lot of what's gone utterly wrong in Kidnap for me. I think writing Thai BL/Series Y scripts to be different, fresh, and innovative, is just going to be really fucking hard, especially for stories featuring branded pairs that MUST end up together in the end. Because we, the viewers, KNOW that they MUST end up together in the end, what kind of mystery and conflict can a script convincingly evoke to keep us, the viewers, engaged and interested in the drama?
A few of us Ohm girlies were excited that Kidnap could have had non-romantic plot points (CRIME!!!) to drive concurrently with a romance plot. There are Series Y that have done this BEAUTIFULLY, particularly Sammon's stories of Manner of Death and Triage.
I'm sorry to say that I didn't get that from the THK trailer, and that THK smells a lot like Kidnap to me. The trailer itself is giving an indication that the "jobs" these guys have as double agents are going to be compromised due to them falling in love. And after the debacle that was Jojo Tichakorn's Only Friends -- a show premised on the exploration of mean, icky, really horny humans, a great place to start an interesting show! -- knowing that THK will HAVE to end up in a romantic place, with FK and JoongDunk being in memorable and memeable entwinements... that's a lot to ask of a show that already isn't making sense by drive, emotion, and tone in its trailer alone. What matters more to these characters? Their work, or their need to be in monogamous relationships? Seems like the latter to me by way of the trailer, which makes me wonder what the point of the plot is. (Joong's chest, probably.) (Gahddayum.)
(I haven't watched the latest episode of Jack & Joker, btw, but I understand that THIS WEEK's episode is ALSO going through something similar, with dead-end and uncommitted plot points all to get to a kiss. Oy.)
To summarize these points and to touch at your question about how GMMTV chooses scripts: GMMTV has an economic model to sell in giving happy endings to their branded pairs, which I wrote about at length in my Old GMMTV Challenge rewatch of The Eclipse. No matter where a script goes, the ending must be memorable and monogamous to satisfy the retweeting hunger of the branded pairs' fandoms, in order for GMMTV's artists to increase online engagement and to maintain earned media values to sell products.
The wonderful @flowerbeasblog noted to me recently that Tha Sataporn, the CEO of GMMTV, said in an interview that as the productions of Series Y in Thailand continues to increase, there is a greater need for more scriptwriting talent across this niche genre, creating competition for more excellent writing. (By comparison, in the States, when streaming services like Netflix and Hulu starting commissioning more original series just about a decade ago, the demand for scriptwriters and excellent writing also went up by incredible scale -- only to come crashing down recently with pandemic and strike-related losses in revenue.) GMMTV's recently announced script competition, Y Find, updated itself last week with a notice that the company would need more time to sift through scripts to judge. In other words: the demand for creative plots is so high at this company that they are literally fielding entries from the general public.
At the same time, Tha Sataporn has been blunt in indicating that "good shows" are not the priority of his GMMTV, and that talent, management, and engagement are his indicators of success. So, economically -- as long as a show hits that happy ending, and gets the girlies excited online with commentary and purchasing power, then the studio has won, in GMMTV's eyes.
ULTIMATELY, Nihilistic: what we are dealing with regarding your concern, as fans and/or critics of Series Y shows, is a conflict of values, among critical fans like ourselves, other fans who only watch shows for romance and shipping, and the economic bottom lines of the studios/agencies themselves. Some of us just want narratively good scripts, like Bad Buddy or He's Coming To Me. Others are content with having a show end with their fave pairs confirmed together in the end, no matter the process of how they got there. Those are different values we hold in watching shows. I appreciate that while you're a fan of the FK branded pair, that you want stronger scripts for them. I do, too, but that's not a value that every fan -- and GMMTV itself -- holds. And I believe that's why we've been seeing more and more mediocre scripts from that studio in particular.
I actually want to note maybe something positive about FirstKhao. Other than The Eclipse, it seems like they haven't been locked into high school or university settings. Only Friends, Moonlight Chicken -- these are shows that show First's and Khao's characters as young adults, and THK is going there, too. I hope they can avoid the university settings as they continue to work.
Is stellar acting wasted at GMMTV? Oh, yes. Besides First and Khao, who I truly think are good actors, we have Gun Atthaphan, Nanon Korapat, and Ohm Pawat -- these three guys are on my list of the best Thai actors out there who have done BL, and they haven't had great scripts in years. (Gun, arguably, has had the best pickings of decent shows recently in Cooking Crush and The Trainee, but they weren't high art; and Nanon's Dirty Laundry was the last Jojo script I was truly impressed by.) All three of these guys were in MOVIES at one point. Those ambitions, on behalf of these actors by GMMTV, seem to have gone by the wayside in preference for a huge economic push to boost branded pair-based series insteads, with their plot holes and guaranteed romances.
I hope the genre's tide turns for the sake of quality scripts, especially at GMMTV, but my hopes are low for this agency at the moment. My joy in Thai shows recently has been in watching past shows for my OGMMTVC. I've been on a lakorn kick lately, having watched The Miracle of Teddy Bear and I'm looking forward to watching Khun Chai soon. Other agencies and studios, like One31 and Channel 3, are breathing down GMMTV's neck and producing more interesting shows, sometimes with branded pairs and sometimes not. Triage only came out two years ago, and that show's trilogy (along with Manner of Death) will end with this year's airing of Spare Me Your Mercy, starring the very likely one-time pair of Tor Thanabob and JJ (Jaylerr) Krissanapoom, two gigantic artists in Thailand who are circling BACK towards the much smaller genre of Series Y for SMYM's sake. I have VERY high hopes and expectations for that show -- and that show is well out of the purview of GMMTV.
I think what you're smelling about the THK trailer is right, Nihilistic -- to me, the trailer isn't cohesive, and jumps already to its forgone conclusion of a romantic end. Unfortunately, for those of us familiar with Jojo Tichakorn's work, we know that if he was given more leeway, he'd likely come up with something more interesting. But now that he has to work with branded pairs -- who are shipped in the eyes of their fan beholders -- he's got a lot less room to be creative and interesting, which ultimately stifles the otherwise excellent acting we'd see from these young men.
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crybaby-bkg · 1 year ago
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“I’m terrified of trying those hitachi wands,” you offhandedly mention one night in a quiet laugh, while laying in bed beside Bakugou. you’re both on your phones, one last scroll before bed, even though he’s actually playing one of those old people games. he looks over, hair pushed back by a clip he stole from you.
“Why would you be scared?” he asks you, completes the last two moves of the game before he closes his phone and sets it on the table beside the bed. he turns all of his attention on you then, rolling over to his side to face you, and you do the same.
“Because those things are damn near weapons with how they render people useless for like, twenty minutes after they cum.” you snicker, thinking back on the video you had seen earlier in the day. the lady damn near ruined her phone with the wetness, and could hardly move for a good minute after.
Bakugou only stares at you, doesn’t say anything for a long while, but he has this look on his face. he’s thinking about something, but doesn’t open his mouth until he’s whispering,
“That’s crazy,” he kisses your forehead and mumbles an I love you before he rolls over and pulls the covers to his head. you only blink in confusion before you chalk it up to him being the shy little prude he’s always been, and lay down yourself.
the conversation goes forgotten as the weeks pass on, something you don’t dwell on much afterwards. but obviously, it hasn’t passed Bakugou’s mind at all.
“I got it in pink.” he tells you one night after he’s wined and dined you. that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for him, but what was weird was how jittery he had been the entire time. this was why, surely, when he leads you to the bedroom and opens a neat little box with one of those wands you had completely forgotten about sitting prettily in front of you.
“Katsuki!” you laugh, hands covering your mouth before they cover your eyes in a mix of shame and shyness. “Why do you wanna see me laid out and twitching after using that thing?” you softly punch his shoulder, looking between his reddened cheeks and the wand he holds in front of you like an engagement ring.
“It’ll be hot.” he shrugs, mouth twisting this way and that in uncertainty, before he looks at you from under his lashes. “Wanna try it out?”
“Of course I do.” you answer back just as quickly, stripping from your clothes even quicker. it makes Bakugou laugh, taking his shirt off and his pants too, just to be safe in case you become a slash zone.
he tries it first with him sitting between your legs, just holding the wand there. he looks between your legs and then to your eyes, starting on a low setting and watches how you twist and thrive in the silken sheets. and when you cum, he thinks he can push you a little further.
he ups the vibrations, adds two of his fingers inside of you, crooking them until he finds that soft spot inside of you that makes you absolutely sob. you squirt all over him and he wonders if he should take his boxers off too (he doesn’t though; the thought of finding them tomorrow stained in you makes him damn near burst in his pants).
the next position is in front of your mirror on the closet, with your legs spread over his. Bakugou hooks his chin over your shoulder, holds your twitching thighs open as he keeps turning the vibrations up to the highest settings. you’re squirming and whining and whimpering for mercy, even though you cry even more whenever he stops.
the next time and the next time and the next, he’s got more fingers inside of you, his cock, another one of your favorite toys. he sets you in doggy style, even though he doesn’t fuck you, but keeps the wand between your legs. he likes the way your entire body shakes beneath him, collapsing, trapped between his weight and the strong vibrations that send you into another dimension.
the next day, you can barely feel between your legs, shaky and unstable for the whole day. but Bakugou makes up for it; he always does.
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icewindandboringhorror · 9 months ago
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I was just thinking what a cool job this might be.. what if you were just the person who makes little still images of cute animal figurines doing various activities to post on social media...? like.. show up to work and just spend the whole day like "hmm... this table should be placed to the left a little.. let me set this miniature bagel down in this way... this tiny rabbit should be wearing a scarf", setting the backgrounds, the lighting, etc. ... dream job perhaps lol...
#I'm sure it probably doesnt pay much lol#but.. maybe in some ideal world..#with my health and mental conditions and level of functioning there are VERY few Jobs I could actually EVER manage aside from#just being self employed and being able to set my own hours somehow etc... But every once in a while I come across something like this#and it's like... hrmm.... Yes... perhaps if I could align myself in this hyper specific scenario under hyper specific conditions in a#precise and predictable way and everything worked out perfectly and I had all the accomodations I might need.. maybe I could#do THAT thing then .. lol#Not just generally a 'social media manager' or something. I think that would drive me into the throes of madness#but SPECIFICALLY 'person who makes the images for the calico critters social media' and also#the place i have to go to do that is either my home or within walking distance of my home and also i rarely have to interact#with others aside from the posts probably going through some approval process and initial ideas where they tell me what#type of scene to make and also i somehow make $90.000 a year doing this for only 4 days a week with frequent sick breaks#dreamy sigh and so on and so forth and such and so on#ANYWAY........#the idea of meticulously placing little pastries and miniature crayons and stuff around all day until the scene is perfectly crafted.. SO#SO so appealing to me... like designing environments in the sims except it's real and tangible.. And also imagine having access#to the FULL library of miniature items. to me that would be just as good as owning them#Like.. I get to use them and make little scenes with them and hold them and stare at them and everything except also#they're all kept at work so I don't have boxes of clutter filling home.#unlimited access to every little miniature food ever crafted yet none of the downsides (purchase cost and storage)#etc. etc. ANYWAY ...#Chuckling confidently as I add this onto the 'List Of ''Real'' Jobs I Could Do' which is just a notebook sheet of paper with only like 5#other similarly unlikely hyperspecific scenarios scribbled down
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sluckythewizard · 7 months ago
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BUT IM NOT A WRITER. something strange possessed me to write my first proper fanfic in maybe a decade. be niceys to me but also grill me so i can get stronger. this one is a stupidly self indulgent bit between Soda and Emizel, a day or so after emizel was sired. CW for gore descriptions, but thats about it i think. image below is a snippet of the start. the rest of the whole dang thing will be under the cut. ive never posted fanfic ever in my life. read my tags for secret behind da scenes commentary
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"Oh shit… I think hes dead…" It was another night, another patrol, another fight, and another win, for Emizel and Soda.
Under moonlight, under street light, under interwoven wires above, the two stood here in a quiet and damp alleyway. The air was drenched with the smell of a previous rain, and the puddles of said storm remain huddled in corners and pot holes.
One splashed as soda found himself stepping forwards into one. The residual adrenaline of the fight had left his body shaking, his heart still pounding, his wounds still throbbing. They had still won; or more-so, Emizel had won. A particularly nasty blow to the side had Soda reduced to the side lines for most of the fight, left to watch as his newly vampiric comrade had absolutely eviscerated the competition.
Emizel had only been turned a day ago, but it was impossible not to notice how it had changed him. He already acted so goddamn confident, so on top of the world, and this newfound power, newfound speed and strength, only built upon his insane ego.
The Fangs that they encountered here on this night stood no fucking chance. Emizel was too quick, too strong, and he easily chased off the rivals. It was only now, as the final unfortunate opponent had turned to flee, a clean clock in the jaw sent the human tumbling to the ground with a dull thump, and it did not move afterward.
Soda shifts his shoe out of the puddle, the cold seeping into his sock being one of the few things keeping his mind in his body in the moment. Is the guy breathing?
A low laugh bleeds from Emizel as he stretches his arms, licking his sharpened teeth as he stares off in the direction the remaining Fangs went. Soda knew that look on his face, the look of a tiger pondering on its next kill, he knew well that Emizel wanted to chase them.
But the guy on the ground.. It was one punch to the face, and the wicked crack sound that came from it had planted a seeding dread within Sodas chest.
As he steps forward, around the puddle, the resulting sound made Emizels attention click back over to Soda, the snap of his gaze making Soda flinch.
The two lock eyes, and Soda weakly gestures to the limp body on the floor. "The uh.. I think.. Is that guy dead?" He finally asks, having a hard time keeping contact with Emizels intensely red eyes.
Emizel turns his attention to said body, tilting his head as he goes to kick at the thing, turning it over. "Man no way hes dead, I punched him once." He mutters.
"Well, yeah, but his head almost twisted all the way around when you did.." Soda steps up to stand beside Emizel, the two boys standing with their hands in their pockets, down at this unfortunate, limp body.
"Should we hide it?" Soda asks, glancing back over at Emizel, who had.. An odd look on his face. He was clearly pondering something, but Soda could only guess whatever was going on in that brilliant head of his. He knew and trusted that Emizel was smart. If anyone could figure out what to do about this, it would be him.
But the lack of an answer had anxiety chewing at the back of Sodas rib cage, and after a second, he speaks up again, compelled to fill what he perceived as a tense silence. "Like.. I dunno, I've never uh... killed a guy..." He shrugs, prompting Emizel to let out a big sigh.
"He's not dead man, just out fuckin cold." Emizel kneels down next to the body, putting an ear up to its chest, and pondering on that for a moment. An uncertainty twists his expression, as he decides to instead place a hand on the victims throat, checking for a pulse. A moment passes, and seemingly finding nothing, he pulls back.
"Uh... Okay, so he might be dead."
Something about the confirmation from Emizel made a shiver run up Sodas spine. That, or maybe it was just the breeze agitating the cold water in his shoe.
"Huh… Damn.." Was all that Soda could really get to leave his mouth. Which was hardly a splash compared to the torrent that was slowly churning in his head. They just killed a guy. Or, Emizel just killed a guy. And it was so easy. They had to hide the body now, right? That was the usual progression here? Getting caught for murder was way more extreme than getting caught for breaking mailboxes with soda cans. It was so, so disturbingly easy. It really was just one punch. It's not like the Fangs are weak by any means, so just one punch? And this guy is dead? Forever?
Or, perhaps by human means, their rivals were fairly tough. But Emizel was on a whole other level. No mortal could stand up to him now...
"Hey, are you okay?"
The question had pulled Soda back from his head, his gaze flicking back over to Emizel, who was looking up at him with those eerie, piercing red eyes. Soda felt another shiver.
"Uh, ieah man, I'm all good." Soda nods, swallowing down whatever anxiety was bubbling up in his throat.
But Emizel didn't seem satisfied by his answer, standing back up and staring down his human comrade. Soda couldn't meet his eyes, his gaze instead traveling downward, and pausing on Emizels red, cut-up shirt. There was something off about the color, the way it seemed darker in some spots, brighter in others.. Wait, wasn't Emizel wearing a white shirt before all this?
The vampire boy seems to pick up on Sodas expression, following his eyes down to his shirt. "Oh, yeah! While you were on the floor, the knife guy got me a little" He says, a stupidly simple smile on his face. Soda was about to let out a laugh at how unbothered his friend seemed by it, but it gets caught in his throat when Emizel goes to pull his shirt up.
The sound of the bloodied fabric peeling away from skin made Sodas own skin crawl, but that wasn't nearly as bad as the sight of the intense gash running from his collar bone, down to his stomach.
"Oh, fuck dude!" Soda gasps, but Emizel laughs it off. Even despite knowing Emizel well, Soda was still surprised by just how much Emizel could shrug off. "Shit, doesn't that hurt, dude?"
"Oh yeah this fucking hurts!" he says with a laugh, his smile big and toothy and proud as he presents this egregious wound. Swollen and angry, pulsing with a slow heartbeat, and still oozing with thick, dark blood.
The sight of the split flesh, and the glints of bone beneath the dark, dark red all tugged at Sodas gag reflex, and yet he couldn't pull his eyes away. So Emizel's just been walking and talking so normally this whole time with his chest just cleaved wide open? Soda felt just as impressed as he felt horrified.
It wasn't until Emizel reaches down to poke at the abhorrent wound that Soda snaps out of it. Watching his friend press his fingers into the bloodied flesh, and slowly pulling it apart, allowing more ichor to seep from the gash, it was too much to watch at this point.
Soda reaches up to put a hand on Emizels wrist, the vampire boy stopping, and looking up at his friend.
Soda found himself freezing again when he locks eyes with Emizel. He was going to say something now, right? "U-uhm.." Is all he really chokes out, giving Emizels wrist a gentle tug. "D-do you. Uh. I suppose a hospital Isn't a place you can go anymore..?"
Emizel just smirks at that, letting Soda pull his hand away from the wound. "Oh, yeah no, but it's fine. I mean, I don't think it's gonna kill me" He shrugs. It was so, so impressive just how unphased Emizel was by all this. Fuck he's actually so cool.
"Well yeah man but it's like, still a bleeding hole. Like you're soaked in blood dude, I'm pretty sure that even a vampire needs that stuff on like, the inside." Soda rubs the back of his head, still unnerved by the sight of it all. "Vampires have like, super healing, don't they?"
"Oh yeah like, regeneration powers. I know I heal faster sometimes but I dunno how to just, activate it on command.." Emizel hums, his eyes narrowing down at his own injury, as if trying to will it into mending. Soda looks away, unable to watch that vile gash ooze any longer.
"I dunno man, how do they do it in like, video games?" Soda tosses the question out, trying to click together some sort of solution in his own head.
"Uhhh.. Huh, video games.." Emizel repeats to himself, chewing on the thought while idly poking at the laceration; until an idea audibly flickers to life in his head. "Oh, I just gotta refill my blood meter. Or whatever."
"Oooh yeah, blood meter!" Soda perks up, "Of course, see this is why you're the brains, man" Soda smiles, glancing back over to his cool friend, but immediately needing to look away again when the sight of that egregious gash tugs bile back into his throat.
While Soda averts his eyes, Emizels eyes wander back over to the body, and that classic 'Emizel has a bad idea' smile creeps across his face.
"Well, if this guys dead, I'm sure he's not gonna need all that blood.." He grins, kneeling down next to the body again.
The word 'wait' had hardly gotten the chance to crawl from Sodas mouth, before Emizel lifts up the arm of the unfortunate body, pulling the sleeve back, and immediately sinking his teeth into the exposed wrist.
The sound and the sight of blood gushing around Emizels teeth made Soda cringe, his hand impulsively coming up to aide his own wrist. An empathetic phantom pain made his wrist ache, his imagination simulating the feeling of shark teeth cutting into skin, sinking deep into the flesh, and clacking against bone. That was a lot of blood, that was streaming down the arm of this fodder.
A low growl bleeds from Emizel as he adjusts his teeth, cutting into more flesh, opening the wound further, and allowing a pulsing torrent of red to stream down his chin, onto his coat. It was an annoying thing, to clean blood out of clothing. Most of the Demons deemed it easier to just let the stains remain. But the night that Emizels throat was torn open, and liters upon liters were granted freedom from his human form, the unbelievable mess had practically changed half the color of Emizels iconic coat.
That was the first time Soda had ever seen that much blood from one person. And well. This would probably be the second.
The sight was unnerving, but it was impossible to look away. The alley was quiet, save for the distant bustle of a distant city, which made the noisy squish and squelch of teeth gnawing on flesh all the more apparent and nauseating.
Emizel had become a monster for sure, and watching it feed on something was… thrilling, in a way. It reminded Soda of feeding a pet spider, or lizard. A mouse for a snake.
It's a heavy thing to witness, the end of a human life. The fear of death is a primal thing, and Soda was no different from any other living thing. He figured everyone else feared death just as much as he does. Well, maybe except for Emizel, of course.
It made sense. Emizel was such a cocky and noisy kind of guy, but hes always had the power to back it up. Even when he lost, or seemed at his lowest, Soda still saw this sort of fire in him, one that Soda admired.
Of course Emizel would be the one to become something like a vampire. Something that Soda had always figured was just a fantasy creature thing. He wondered; if vampires were real, what else was real? Werewolves? Zombies? Unicorns? Are there real demons? Like from hell? Is hell real? Is he going to hell?
The sudden ttteeeeaaaaarrrr of flesh rips soda from his wandering thoughts. Emizel was tugging his head away from the arm of his kill, his teeth clamped down into the chewed meat, and pulling it apart. Soda had seldom seen so much of the inside of a human arm, and the sight of spilling threads and squirming veins was hardly something he ever wanted to stomach again.
"Oh fuck, dude, hey-" Soda steps forward, raising a hand, but the way Emizel snaps his head back over to him, twisting to an unnatural degree, Soda cant help jolting back.
Reddened teeth glint menacingly in the low light, a threatening growl thundering from its clenched, dripping jaws. Emizels eyes were focused, yet wild, glowing with whatever light they could reflect.
Sodas eyes were wide, and his body was frozen in the thick, electric tension within the air. It was like staring down an angry dog.. Suddenly a light bulb in his head flickers to life. It was kind of like an angry dog, right? One hunched over a meal it didn't want to give up. Memories of old encounters and unfortunate dog bites resurface in Sodas head, and with that experience, and with those lessons learned, he gathers the courage to react.
He shuts his eyes, keeping them closed for a few seconds, as he slowly pulls back his arm, and slowly steps back. It was an eye contact thing, wasn't it? Eye contact makes dogs angry, right? That was how you dealt with an angry dog? As he pulls back, and takes in a breath for composure, he finally dares to peek at the angry vampire before him again.
Its snarling had died down, but its eyes were still trained intently on Soda. After a tense, and agonizingly, slow pause... It blinks back, lowering its head back down to its meal, but keeping its anxious stare on this potential threat.
A relieved sigh falls from soda as the tension finally melts. He didnt realize he was holding in so much of his breath. "O-okay, man.. It's yours, you uh.. Earned it.." Soda mutters, stepping back further, until he was standing in a sufficiently dry enough space to sit down in. Now that he wasn't standing, he was finally taking into mind just how much his hands were shaking.
It's odd. Soda couldn't really describe this feeling thrumming in his chest as something like fear.. Nausea? For sure. Disturbed and rattled? Oh absolutely. This was certainly a sight he would have a hard time scrubbing from his eyelids when he sleeps tonight. But he wasn't scared. The memory of the night that Emizel was sired still coated the inside of his mind like an unwashable film. Even in that moment, when the unnatural teeth from the unnatural maw of an unnatural thing hovered over his throat, he couldn't say with confidence that he was scared.
Emizel really is his best friend in the world. And he knows with his whole heart that Emizel feels the same. He knew and trusted that his best friend would never hurt him. Not too badly at least. He loves Emizel, and would give anything to support him.
Like a mouse to a snake.
This really is an incredible power that his comrade had come across, and Soda especially felt a sort of pride in his friend. He felt it was worth it to help him feed it.
The bile in his throat had made its point, and Soda agreed, that watching someone die, and get torn apart and drained might be too much for him. Despite how much he hated the Fangs, the end of any human life seemed like such a jarring thing. To have such an intense fear finally get confronted. Would he go to hell?
Maybe he couldn't just feed people to his friend. So an alternative could be donated blood, right? Soda wouldn't mind giving up something like blood. His body makes it for free, after all. Maybe some other Demons would agree to give up some blood too. But they shouldn't have to take on such a burden. Soda wouldn't mind being the only one. The only one. The only one.
His hand comes up to rub at his neck, as his imagination conjures up what it might feel like to have teeth sink into his flesh. He's been stabbed before, is that sort of what it would feel like? Would he have to get stitches? He didn't really want to get stitches, so maybe there could be a more effective way to get the blood out of him. And there was so much vital stuff in his neck too. There's' a vein that's safe to cut into somewhere, right? He would have to look that up later.
A STARTLING RINGING;
Splits the moment,
Prompting both Soda and Emizel to jolt in shock,
As the phone in Emizels pocket rings away.
Acting as if nothing abnormal had taken place, Emizel pulls out his phone, and answers it.
"Heyy, Johnny! Yeah we chased em off, I don't think those bastards will be infesting this street again anytime soon. Yeah, ieah we'll be heading back soon. Oh fuck yeah dude, save us some!"
Emizel covers the speaker of his Nokia, turning back to Soda with a big smile on his violently bloodied face. "They got some pizza waiting for us back home, dude!" he whispers out to him.
Soda does his best to crack a smile, and to suppress the look of unease that probably stained his face, as he stares at the literal murder scene that's been splattered about in front of him.
"Oh, yeah, hell yeah man.." He swallows down the bile again. "What kind of uh.. Soda did they get?"
Emizel ponders that, before turning back to the phone to ask Sodas question.
"Sprite and a big pack of that one strawberry mountain dew" Emizel tosses the answer back over to Soda, who gives a nod, and thumbs up.
Mountain dew is so neat, Soda really liked all the wacky flavors those guys come up with. The thought of going home and opening a can of soda was certainly a comfort. After witnessing all this blood and gore and viscera, Soda absolutely needed to get back home and get a nice cold glass of something bright red .
As Sodas mind wanders off to soda, Emizel wraps up the conversation on the phone, before hanging up, and standing up.
The movement had pulled Sodas mind back into the moment, enough for him to timidly voice a concern he's had since the start of this debacle.
"Uh, hey, so.. The body, should we… Uh.." He gestures vaguely to it, and Emizel grants it a nonchalant glance.
"Eh, I can toss it into a dumpster or something, I dunno. I'm sure its fine. I'll handle it."
The vampire boy goes to pick up the corpse, the wound in its mangled arm no longer even dripping with blood, the flesh pale from the absolute absence of red in its veins.
"Go ahead and meet me by that one mailbox, the one with the bullet hole in it." Emizel casually instructs, tossing the drained body over his shoulder. "I'll catch up."
"Uh, yeah, okay.." Soda musters up a nod, and the strength to rise back up to his feet, wincing as that bruise on his side makes itself loudly known again. He still felt anxious, but even despite it all, he knew he could trust Emizel to take care of things. He always does. "Just stay safe man, I'll see you there." Soda assures with a smile, and Emizel matches it, tossing him a wink. And then suddenly- -He's gone! If Soda had blinked he would've missed it, but he was fortunate enough to just barely catch the glimpse of Emizel darting off at an inhuman speed, probably looking for a place to dump the body. Right, he would take care of it. Emizel always makes sure his crew is taken care of. Well... Guess all that's left for Soda is for him to walk back to that meeting spot. He looks around the alley for a moment, taking in the sight of that enormous pool of blood in the middle of the concrete. Or whatever the floor of this alley is made from. He ponders on the present moment a little longer than he meant to, the shock of it all leaving him aimless for just a few, soothing moments of just, decompression. The night is quiet, vast, and cold, but the stresses of just the past 5 hours had left his body radiating with fiery aches and pains, so the chill of the occasional clawing breeze was welcomed. Except for when said breeze agitated the cold water still soaked into his sock. He should step in another puddle on his way back to even it out. The smell of rain still rested heavy in the air, heralding another storm on the horizon. There was that, and then, well, there was also the blood. The stench of it felt far too intense to just ignore it, the metallic miasma making itself maliciously unmistakable. Maybe the impending storm will wash this mess away... He looked forward to putting this unfortunate night behind him. With one last rattled, but deep breath, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, and turns away, strolling back over to the mailbox that Emizel had described.
He couldn't wait to get home and drink some soda with his friends.
#NO TAGS ON THIS ONE BC WELL. IM SHY. IM TAKING A BIG LEAP JUST BY ALLOWING U TO REBLOG THIS. IF IT BREAKS CONTAINMENT THATS UR FAULT.#i unfortunately suffer from the disease of 'i hate everything i write the day after i write it' BUT IM GETTING TREATED#I WILL NOT BE HAUNTED BY THIS WEAKNESS FOREVER. AND HEY LOOK THIS IS THE FIRST ACTUAL FIC BIT IVE EVER FINISHED..#ITS SOMETHING TO BE PROUD OF!! AND BY JOBE I WILL BE PROUD EVEN IF I HATE IT.#i dont always need to be the one who likes my art bc i know Someone out there will always enjoy it.#and to that someone i say: omg thankyou i LOOOOVEE YOUUUUUU!!!!!#JUST DELETED A WHOLE RAMBLE I JUST HAD ABT NERVOUS DISCLAIMERS FOR MY ART BUT I DONT NEED EM!!#GET CONFIDENT GET CONFIDENT GET CONFIDENT. ANYWAY. so emizel and soda huh#THEYRE SO CUTE TOGEEHTERRRR TEEHEHEHEHEEEE they are the homies that kiss eachother goodnight like CMON#but uhh so hey your bestest friend in da world just got turned into a freaky creature thing that eats ppl#ieah yknowthe guy that u care about alot that u had to watch get bled out by another freaky creature thing in an alleyway#yeaaah and you were super hurt and weak and stupid and u couldnt do jack nor shit to help him#what was i talking about again. RIGHT so hes even cooler now bc he cant die n hes super strong n his arms can be knives. sometimes.#but also he can eat people now. and sometimes he cant stop himself from eating people. and thats kinda scary. but in a cool way.#but also in a disturbing way. but also in an interesting way?but also in a freaky way.the feelings ARE MIXED!!!ATLEAST I THINK THEY WOULD B#okay again i havnt listened to the suckening ina bit. so its been a minute since i absorbed their personalities. i could be misreading or#misremembering or misconstruing or mischaracterizing or WHATEVER. i think the confusion carries its intended effect#LOSING MY TRAIN O THOUGHT. anyway i love soda n emizel i hope they get locked in a saw trap together or somethign. for enrichment.#TALOS GRANT ME THE STRENGHT TO POST MY CREATIONS ON LINE!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUGHHH!!!!!!!
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kaurwreck · 1 month ago
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It's actually really appropriate that bsd happened to me because I learned about the Sengoku period of Japan from Samurai Warriors. I was moé Oichi in the very first dream in which I exercised volitional control over the dream narrative and environment.
#bsd#bungou stray dogs#samurai warriors#ive always exercised complete volitional control over myself/my dream character#but i had chronic and constant and sometimes recurring nightmares and couldnt control anything else#so i remember very fondly the first time i figured out how to adjust the narrative and environment#i was oichi on a vicious battlefield and i curled up on the ground crying because it was too chaotic and violent and terrifying#there were no clear “sides” — so there wasnt anywhere to go for safety. someone noticed me and raised their battle axe to kill me.#and while cowering on the ground all i wanted was an invisibility cloak to hide under#and got one! so from there i willed a proper fucking sword and horse#then i willed oichi's husband and saved him like a damsel in distress#first nightmare i ever turned into an adventure#now i have so much control over my dreams that i can run simulations of major decisions and can collapse the entire environment if i want to#but my dreams characters (which are just less conscious me) get annoyed if i break the dream without engaging with whatever it's processing#so i try not to.#also sometimes it's an interesting or exciting story and i want to see where it's going#or it's laden with imagery i want to unpack#or i forget it's a dream until the dream characters break the fourth wall at the end to deliver me the takeaway I need to remember#but none of this happened suddenly. it was a slow process that began out of my desperation to no longer be victimized by my own nightmares#and oichi was the turning point.#and also got me very into the sengoku period of japan from ages 9-15.#that abruptly ended because of a marijuana leaf#but that's a separate story#anyway#it just struck me that everything i know about japanese history. came to me first as gaggles of bishie japanese historical figures.#sorry japan but thank you bishie nobunaga and bishie dazai
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