#anyway i was rooting for Japan

[miyku]

[afterthelambs]

Oh my god haikyuu is so right volleyball is so FUNNNN

[medicinemane]

You know, looking at a diet soda can it occurs to me that it might not be so wretched to me if the cans weren't so unpleasant

Like we know that things like color play a role in how our brain perceives things, and I realized looking at the can that they're always this bland but at the same time nasty looking silver and it just... it looks foul and I think that compounds with the fact that I also just plain don't like diet soda

My point here isn't to say anyone else shouldn't like diet soda, just how I never realized how much of an impact the can has on me not liking it... there's just something offputting about it to me

[jeonqkooks]

[red-ruth]

So many Enea fans awwwww

[lozey]

I've been watching so many Godzilla movies since I lost my job and anyway I'm almost done watching the original 1954 Godzilla and it actually is kind of a fantastic movie, like despite the dated special effects, I think it holds up pretty well! Even with the special effects!

I like to put myself in the mindset of the people who watched that movie for the first time in 1954 and yeah man, I'd be sitting there like "OMG HOW'D THEY DO THAT"

Fave Godzilla movie so far is Shin Godzilla. Kicking myself that I didn't get big into Godzilla until NOW when I could have gotten into it when Godzilla Minus One was still in theaters but nooooooo (but as SOON as its available to either stream or pirate, I'm watching it immediately. I mean technically I can watch it right now on kissmovies, thats where I've been watching most all of these movies, but its terrible quality and the sound is bad so I don't want to watch it until an HD version is available)

Anyway the monsterverse movies aren't my favoooorite but they have Godzilla and I'll take it. Though I don't much care for King Kong. But the King Kong: Skull Island movie was pretty good, I just prefer my boy Godzilla

[wttcsms]

come right on me (i mean camaraderie!)

ᝰ.ᐟ starting a new job is scary, especially when it seems like you can’t do anything correctly. good thing that your manager is always so kind and reassuring and supportive. when a client meeting ends terribly and runs so late that the two of you have to check into a hotel to spend the night, your sweet manager knows a good way to cheer you up… ( fem!reader )

pairing tetsurou kuroo x reader word count 4.9k content contains praise kink, oh no!!! there's only one bed!!!, coworkers/power imbalance (he's your manager, you're the newest and youngest member on the team), slight manipulation from kuroo (he's aware of your crush on him and uses your admiration as leverage), occasionally refers to you as his kouhai, you call him kuroo-senpai, creampie, sex in an enclosed, semi-public space (the office's supply closet), first time blowjobs kinktober masterlist

If you had known that your transfer would have resulted in you getting fucked boneless in the supply closet of the company you work for…

Well, you would have announced your job transfer a little bit sooner.

“Kuroo— Ah!” You let out a helpless yelp as you feel Kuroo’s teeth bite down on the soft part of your shoulder, sure to leave a mark. “K-Kuroo, slow down!”

“Kuroo? Really?” He snarls, lifting his head up to glare down at you. “Tsk, and here I thought you were a star employee. Is that any way to speak to your manager, or is it because you’re moving that you’re deciding to drop the formalities?” 

Your heart drops at the sound of Kuroo seemingly dissatisfied with you. Out of everyone in this office, he’s always been the one to root for you the hardest. You look up to him! Even when he’s upset, all you want to do is make him feel better. Just like how he made you feel better that time after that horrendous client meeting last month…

“Kuroo-senpai,” you mutter out, avoiding staring at him entirely. “I’m sorry.”

You’re bowing your head in apology, but Kuroo merely laughs, shaking his head.

“Don’t apologize. These things happen.” Kuroo is smiling, and from the crinkle of his eye and the carefree tone he’s using, it’s genuine. Kuroo isn’t upset with you, and somehow, this only makes you feel worse.

“But I ruined the meeting.” You remind him. “I stuttered when speaking to the client, and then I totally didn’t know how to properly react whenever he—” 

This is when Kuroo’s friendly demeanor darkens. “There would be no proper reaction to what he said.” The client, an older man who’s been working for so long in corporate Japan that back in his day, women could only serve as secretaries and belittled assistants, had made a less-than-savory remark on you and the way your pencil skirt hugs your figure. It had been a test of self-restraint for Kuroo to remain civil and smiling and to not punch him from across the table, but you don’t know that. “Our company shouldn’t sign contracts with men like him, anyway. I’ll write up everything in the report, and you won’t get reprimanded at all, okay?” He’s back to his normal, cheery self, and you nod.

Kuroo always knows what to do. 

And in your case, Kuroo is always making you feel better for being inadequate. A fresh college graduate, it’s a wonder how you managed to snag a position on one of the marketing teams for Japan’s Volleyball Association. Now, in your head, it’s a wonder how you manage to keep the damn position. You just can’t seem to do anything right, and even your coworkers are no longer shy in shaking their heads and sighing every time you mess something up. 

The only person who doesn’t seem to mind the little mistakes you make or the minor trouble you cause is Tetsurou Kuroo, the official unofficial golden boy of the sports promotion division. He’s a bit older than you, but still one of the youngest members belonging to the JVA’s marketing and promotional division. Already, there’s whispers about how Kuroo is most likely going to move up the hierarchy and soon — the Chief of Public Relations position will be opening up due to an early retirement from the current chief, and everyone knows that Kuroo has connections with a majority of the monster generation; not to mention, he’s charming enough to get everyone to go along with what he says.

You admire your senior colleague greatly, and because of your admiration and the fact that he’s the most sympathetic towards you, causing him trouble always makes you feel ten times worse than when you normally mess up. Even if he tells you everything is alright, you’re still frowning, staring down at your shoes. 

“Ah, shit.” Kuroo curses, staring up at the darkening sky as rain starts to descend down on the two of you. “Looks like the storm is coming early.” 

“It’s more like we’re just running late.” You say miserably. Because of you, the client meeting dragged on for even longer than scheduled, and the two of you were already running on a tight enough schedule as is. The JVA needed to secure a contract with a sneaker company to do some joint collaboration billboards, and even with a major thunderstorm predicted for this evening, the company was convinced Kuroo would be able to wrap up the meeting (successfully) and get the both of you on the train home before the storm came.

Now, though, it’s later than when you two were supposed to catch the train, and with the way the weather is worsening at such a rapid speed, it seems like making it to the train station before the last one runs will be impossible. 

“Follow me.” Kuroo tells you, trying to be heard over the wind. You nod, but you don’t expect him to grab your hand. With the wind whipping in your face and the chill of rain soaking through your work clothes, Kuroo’s hand is surprisingly warm. You allow yourself to be practically dragged behind him as he jogs to the nearest inn. Even in a soaked suit, running against the storm’s wind, Kuroo still manages to hold his own just fine. You’re glad his back is turned to you; at least this way, you can admire his athleticism in private.

Kuroo leads the two of you into a nearby hotel. The place looks fancy; way out of your budget. You feel bad as you practically stand there awkwardly, wetting the nice, expensive looking marble floors of the hotel while Kuroo talks to the woman up front. You notice that she’s biting her lip, eyeing the way the fabric of Kuroo’s suit clings to his body because of the rainwater. It only serves to emphasize the muscles he continues to maintain despite no longer playing the sport he’s paid to promote. Seeing the way she’s admiring him gives you a weird feeling inside, so you turn away, avoiding looking at them. 

“Bad news.” Kuroo runs a hand through the wet strands of his hair. “Turns out they’re fully booked. There’s only one room left, but it’s a couple’s suite.”

“Oh.” It makes sense that the two of you would have to spend the night in the city. The trains have probably stopped running now, and with the storm, it’s only reasonable to just wait it out ‘til the morning. “Well… A couple’s suite should be big enough, right?” 

“Space wise, yes.” Kuroo clears his throat. “But it’s for couples. There’s only going to be one bed.” 

Oh. 

You feel heat rising to your cheeks as you let this information sink in. A fancy hotel. A fancy hotel with a fancy couple’s suite. A fancy hotel with a fancy couple’s suite that only has one bed. And you’re with Kuroo, your very kind, understanding coworker. Your senior colleague. Your manager. Your totally hot manager. 

“What should we do?” You peer up at him, looking at him for the solution. You don’t know it, but he loves the face you make when you’re asking him for help. Your eyes go all wide and seek him out, eagerly awaiting for him to guide you.

“You can have the room. This isn’t the only hotel in existence, so I’ll probably head out and try to find a room somewhere else.” 

“No!” You’re shocked he would even want to go back out in this storm. Your exclamation is literally punctuated with the crack of thunder booming from the sky. “You can’t go back out there.” And because you’re aware of how rude your outburst was, you soften your voice. “Kuroo-senpai, I don’t think it would be reasonable for you to put yourself in harm’s way. We’re both adults, right? I… I don’t mind— We can just figure out the sleeping arrangements when we get into the room?” 

Kuroo smiles. 

“My kouhai has a point. You’re always so sharp, [Name].” 

You don’t know why, but despite the chill of your wet clothes and the air conditioning of the hotel lobby, you feel a warmth settling in your tummy and rising all the way to your chest as you let Kuroo’s praise blanket you. 

For a couple’s suite, there really isn’t much space to work with. The bed takes up most of the room, a grand king-sized mattress, plenty of space for two people to sleep on (and with each other). There’s a tiny loveseat in the corner that might just have been there for decoration or the opportunity to try out a different position, you’re not quite sure. The bathroom is connected, and the place has rose petals all over the floor and floral scented candles lit up. 

Kuroo lets out a whistle. “They weren’t kidding when they said couple’s suite.” 

You can only nod in agreement. 

“Do you wanna shower first?” The minute Kuroo suggests this, you’re instantly aware of just how wet your clothes are. Your white blouse is clinging to your skin, and when you look down slowly, you’re horrified to realize just how transparent the material got when drenched. Before you can get too embarrassed over the situation, Kuroo puts you (or tries to, anyway) at ease, just like he always does. “I’m glad no one else was in the lobby when we came, because I’m sure I look a mess.”

A hot mess, maybe. And hot in the sense that Kuroo looks too good right now. He looks like he just came straight out of a designer cologne ad or something. 

“Y-you can shower first.” You manage to squeak out. “It’s only fair. You’re the one who’s been doing most of the work all day.” 

While Kuroo’s in the bathroom, you’re practically spiraling. How are the two of you going to explain the charge of a couple’s suite on the company credit card? It wouldn’t have been so weird if you had been with one of your female managers or vice versa, but you and Kuroo are the closest in age to each other. The meeting dragged out for far longer than originally planned, and you’re worried about how the two of you will be perceived. If anything, Kuroo has the most to lose. Any enemies of his could easily use this as a way to stop him from getting his well deserved promotion. Oh God, you definitely ruined his shot at promotion. You’re terrible. You’re—

“Seems like someone’s thinking a little too hard.” Kuroo’s teasing tone pulls you from your rapid fire overthinking. 

You wish you hadn’t looked up. Standing in front of you is a shirtless Kuroo, his abs tight and glistening with droplets of water left over from his shower. The white towel is wrapped around his waist, but the view he’s providing is already enough to make you acutely aware of the fact that Kuroo is a man. His normally uncontrollable hair is weighed down with water, damp strands hanging in his face. And he has the nerve to just stand in front of you so casually, as if he isn’t practically naked! 

Maybe you’re the weird one. Great. So you’re practically eye-fucking your manager after despairing over how you basically might be the reason why he’s going to miss out on a great job opportunity. Right after you performed horribly during a client meeting, and then made him save you by finding you shelter in a very nice hotel. 

“I’m the worst.” You groan, frowning as you look up at him. 

“Hey, don’t say that.” He frowns right back at you. “That’s not true at all.” 

“You’re just saying that because you’re nice.” 

He lets out a short, sharp laugh. “A lot of people wouldn’t call me nice. It’s sweet that you would, though.” 

“How can that be true? Kuroo-senpai is the nicest person to me at work!” 

“Am I really?” You don’t notice how dangerous the glint in his eyes are, but you do have enough intuition to sense a shift in his demeanor. “Do you like that your senpai is so nice to you?” 

You don’t know what you do to him. It’s why you don’t realize how you’re essentially unchaining the beast locked up inside of him as you reply, “I like everything about Kuroo-senpai.” 

“I’m glad to hear that, because I like everything about my little kouhai, too.” 

Your eyes widen at this confession. The butterflies in your tummy are doing cartwheels right now. You can’t believe what you’re hearing, what you’re seeing. Are you hallucinating right now? That’s the only reasonable conclusion, but as Kuroo leans forward, you find yourself leaning a bit further back, just on instinct. He’s so much larger than you, more imposing. You feel like you have to shrink when he starts to close the distance between the two of you. He places his hands on the mattress you’re sitting on, effectively caging you in between his arms as he leans down even closer to you. So close that a drop of water from his hair lands right on your thigh. 

“Do you like me enough to let me kiss you?” 

Apparently, you like him enough to let him do much more than just kiss you. The kisses start off gentle enough. His lips are a bit chapped, but you like the feel of them against your much softer ones. He swallows up your little desperate whimpers, and he moves at a pace you can adapt to. When he notices you getting more confident in your movements, he gets rougher, more aggressive. It’s not just whimpers that he’s inhaling, now, but moans. Even in the heat of the moment, though, Kuroo still has enough restraint, enough decency, left in him to continue to ask for your permission. 

“Do you like me enough to let me do this?” He asks you, fingers prodding at the buttons of your work attire. You nod weakly, dizzy with pleasure from just a few kisses. He takes a sharp inhale of breath when your bra is revealed to him, and then he’s helping you slip out of your skirt, and he has to take a few seconds to admire the matching lace set you’re wearing. “I didn’t know my little kouhai was hiding this underneath her work clothes.” He mutters, and you can’t help but thrive off of the attention he’s giving you. 

He leans down ‘til his mouth is so close to your ear, you can practically feel the heat of his breath as he whispers, “Does my precious kouhai like me enough to let me play with her cute pussy?” 

You think you’re going to faint. You can barely breathe as you nod your permission, but he merely tsks. “Use your words, sweetheart. Otherwise, I won’t know.” 

He’s toying with you now. There’s a purpose to him asking his questions the way he does; he wants to see how far your admiration, your devotion, to him runs. A workplace crush might let him get away with a few kisses, but what about pounding into your sweet cunt? Do you like him enough to let him do that? 

Apparently, you do. Because you’re getting over your shyness. Because you’re whispering, “Yes. I l-like you enough to let you play with my pussy.” 

“Atta girl.” 

He’s on you within milliseconds. The pretty panties you’re wearing are now on the floor of this hotel room. He’s quick enough to figure out how to unclasp your bra, and that’s thrown to the ground as well. Laying completely bare and exposed, your work senpai wastes no time in having his hands explore your body, feeling out all the curvatures and angles that make you you. 

He takes a finger to pet at your cunt, humming approval when he already feels traces of slick gathering on the pad of his ring finger. “Did you get wet just from a couple lil’ kisses?” 

You don’t want to answer him, turning your head to the side in embarrassment because yes, you did, but his grin only widens. He presses a kiss to your cheek, finding you downright cute. “Don’t be shy. You did nothing wrong.” 

You did nothing wrong. 

He’s always telling you this, and the kind words never fail to make you feel all warm inside. That’s one of your favorite phrases to hear, but somehow, it hits differently whenever he’s pairing that heartwarming phrase with his finger in your cunt. 

“Ah, fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” He grunts out, moving his ring finger in and out, in and out. “You know what I think you need? I think you need your senpai’s help in loosening you up. It’ll be good for you, wouldn’t you agree?”

You nod your head enthusiastically, and because you think he might like to hear you say it, you admit what he already knows. “Kuroo-senpai is right. You always know what I need.” 

“Good girl.” The praise has you tightening around his finger, and your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed. He smirks, pleased with how sweet and pliant you are for him. A few bits of praise thrown your way, and you become a slut for him.

It’s a good thing your senpai cares about you so much. He cares about you so much that he’s adding his middle finger to the mix, curling the two fingers against your walls, relishing in your little mewls of pleasure. He’ll have to stretch you out, get you all nice and prepped for his cock. He cares about you, which is why he’s going to let you cum. 

“Feelin’ good?” He asks, knowing that from your moans of pleasure, you definitely are. His fingers work wonders within you, and Kuroo can’t help but admire how cute you are, his little kouhai. What would you do without him, hm? He loves the way your knees jerk and how you whimper every time his fingers curl right up against that sweet spot inside of you, the one your tiny fingers can’t seem to reach no matter how hard you try. Your cute little cunt is already so wet, so ready for his cock, that neither of you can seem to ignore the squelching sounds it’s making as he continues to work his fingers in and out of you. When he presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing tiny figure-eights on the bud, you cry out his name, tacking on that familiar honorific he loves to hear falling from your sweet lips, as you cum all over his fingers. You cum so much that your essence is dripping onto his palm, trailing down to his wrist, and he thinks that this is exactly where you should be, where you always should be. 

“You’re so good for me. Look at how much my good girl came.” He coos, and you should be embarrassed about the mess you made, but when he sings out his praise for you like that, you can’t help but feel a tiny bit proud. 

“Can my good girl make me even prouder? Can you take my cock right now, [Name]?” 

Even if you couldn’t, you still wouldn’t have denied him. It’s a lucky thing, then, that you’re so desperate for him. You spread your legs even wider, inviting him, and who is Kuroo to leave such a precious girl waiting and wanting? It’d be cruel to. 

Which is why he doesn’t make you wait. 

Instead, he plunges his bare cock right into your pussy, groaning with satisfaction as he feels you clamp down on him. Of course you’d be clinging to him; you’re always clinging onto him, always following after him. Such a sweet girl, his lovely, adorable junior colleague. The kouhai who likes him so much, you’d allow him to fuck you nice and hard, to really make use of this couple’s suite and its obnoxious sized bed. 

He quickens his pace almost instantly, giving you no time to adapt to his girth and length. He grins when he sees your little fucked out expression, the way your tongue peeks out from between your pretty, pink lips and the way your cheeks are flushed, your hair a mess. The soft, breathy moans that escape from your mouth. You’re going dumb on his cock, and that’s perfectly fine by him. Let him do all the thinking, anyway. 

Kuroo places a hand on your lower belly, trying to gauge just how deep he’s thrusting into you, and when he finds out, he applies more pressure, pressing down on your soft skin, forcing you to take every inch he has to offer. He’s wringing out soft “ah ah ah!”s from you, and your legs wrap around him almost instinctively as you warn him that you’re about to cum once again. 

“So soon?” He grunts out, grinning meanly. “Normally, senpais don’t expect such slutty behavior from their coworkers, but since it’s me you’re going stupid for, I’ll let it pass.” Your legs are closing in on his body, your whole body jerking a bit as you start to lose control. “Go ahead and make me proud. Cum all over my cock like a good kouhai.” 

The minute the request leaves his mouth, you do. You cum all over his length, as he instructed, and he lets out a short laugh at how devoted you are to him.

“Good girl, my best girl.” He grunts out, fucking your cunt at a leisurely pace now before stilling, letting his own cum flood inside your perfect pussy. “My perfect little kouhai. You did so good for me.” 

And with your cunt full of your senpai’s cum, his cock still plugging you up and keeping everything tucked safely inside, he gives you a rather chaste forehead kiss that has you swooning.

Honestly, you don’t expect much to change between the two of you. It’s not like you think Kuroo’s just going to get down on one knee and let you take his last name or anything. You’re still trying to convince yourself that that night wasn’t some hyper-realistic dream, and the only proof that it was real was the remainder of his cum still settled inside your pussy when you woke up the morning after. 

Kuroo is still a good work senpai, always coming to your defense and fixing your mistakes. 

But you can’t help but wonder if he thinks that night he fucked you is just another work mistake of yours that he has to fix. Because of this, you’ve gone out of your way to avoid him as much as possible. So when the director of your team calls you to his office to let you know that the transfer request you put in months ago, way before that night at the hotel, finally got approved, all you can do is bow your head in thanks and return to your cubicle in a daze.

You don’t know what to do, and the person you would normally come to for guidance is the one person you’re trying to minimize interaction with.

However, word of your transfer spreads fast. After all, it’s a cause for celebration when the weakest link of the team is finally moving far, far away. Your coworkers are all being much kinder to you, and in the middle of them congratulating you on your move, you look across the room and lock eyes with Kuroo. His facial expression betrays nothing, but he quickly mouths supply closet before sneaking out of the office.

Five minutes later, you manage to follow him, gently opening the door to the closet, only to be dragged in immediately. The click of the door locking is loud, heard even above your rapidly rising heart beat, and that’s how you find yourself being ravished by Kuroo, during work hours, at your workplace.

When he chastises you for addressing him so casually, you immediately feel terrible. 

“Kuroo-senpai,” you mutter out, avoiding staring at him entirely. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah?” He growls out, keeping you pressed firmly against the wall. “What’re you so sorry for? For avoiding me, or for withholding the fact that you’re going to move all the way to Kyoto?” 

You shake your head, tiny droplets of tears gathering up in your eyes. When you look at him like that, like a little puppy who just got kicked, it only makes him want to ruin you some more, if only so he can have the honor of being the one to piece you right back together again. 

“Senpai, I-I didn’t know what to do.” You wail out. “I was scared that that night at the hotel didn’t matter to you, and I was embarrassed of how I acted then, and I applied to transfer to the Kyoto office ages ago, and when they finally approved it, I didn’t know if it would be smart to pull back my request. I’m sorry, Kuroo-senpai. Please don’t be mad at me.” 

He leans down, pressing his forehead against your own. “Not mad, baby. I was just a bit upset, that’s all.” He rests a hand against your hip, toying with the waistband of your skirt. “You shouldn’t have been embarrassed, though.”

“R-really?”

He nods. “Yeah. I fuckin’ love my little kouhai’s reactions. You shouldn’t be embarrassed around me.” He looks you in the eyes, tugging down your skirt and enjoying the hitch in your breath. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I was hurt.”

“I’m sorry!” You squeak out again, and he sighs. 

“If you’re really sorry, you’ll show me.” 

Apparently, the proper way to show him you’re sorry is to get down on your knees, ignoring the cold tile of the closet, and to unbuckle his belt, pull down the zipper of his slacks, and tug at his briefs in order to free his cock. He’s already hard, the tip of his cock an angry red with pearly white droplets of precum already gathering at the head. You shouldn’t be nervous; you had the full length of his dick inside of your pussy, but somehow, the task of taking him down your throat seems rather daunting. 

“C’mon, [Name]. Is my little kouhai getting shy again?” Kuroo teases, gently nudging his cock against your parted lips. Your tongue reflexively comes out, and before you realize it, your giving tiny kitten licks, getting your first taste of salty precum. You must make a face, because he laughs, before carding his fingers through the locks of your hair and suddenly, very suddenly, pushes you forward. 

He isn’t rough, but the presence and pressure of his hand is firm. He doesn’t push you down any further, but the first few inches of his cock is now resting against your tongue, and he’s savoring the warmth of your mouth, groaning as he feels the vibrations of you mumbling something in surprise. 

“Mm, this is a good starting point for an apology, don’t you think?” He muses, knowing that in your current position, you can’t really reply back. “Such a good kouhai for me. What am I gonna do when you move to Kyoto?”

His voice gets a bit huskier as he forces you to take more of his length into your mouth. When he starts thrusting gently, slowly getting you used to the feeling of him fucking your mouth, he lets out a groan. “So good, baby, so good. Do you normally let your senpais fuck your mouth like this?”

You mumble something, finding enough room to shake your head. 

“No?” He says, picking up his face. Every time he thrusts back in, he hits the back of your throat a bit harder, forces more of his length in. “You’re so good at taking my dick right now, though. Don’t tell me that this is your first time?” He looks down at you, eyes lighting up and a smile brightening his expression. “This is your first time sucking off a cock? Of letting someone fuck you like this?” He laughs, the sound full of genuine joy. 

“You’re the fucking best.” He tells you, before tightening his grip in your hair and pushing you down onto his cock. This is the only warning he gives you before you feel spurts of hot cum flooding into your mouth, and your eyes widen in surprise at the sheer amount that’s being poured into you. He lets out a little groan, tilting his own head back in pleasure as he keeps your head pushed down. The stimulation from you gagging around his girth only prolongs his climax, and you still can’t find relief when he pulls out of your mouth because he’s instantly demanding you open up and show him what a mess he made inside of you. 

You whimper, giving into your senpai’s request. You open up wide, sticking out your tongue to reveal the thick globs of white cum coating the appendage. Fuck, just the sight of you all submissive, on your knees, teary eyed and ready to please, mouth full of his cum… It’s enough to get him hard again. 

“You’re the best kouhai in the world.” He hums, patting your head, and you swallow up his praise just like you do his cum. 

[phagodyke]

i will ALWAYS be salty abt the ed-sheeranification of one ok rock (one of my fave personality-building anecdotes i explain at parties to ppl getting to know me) but the fact is that takas voice is soooo hot he could sing the words on the back of a milk carton to the tune of a t*ylor sw*ft song + id probably still listen to him. sorry

[pinkiemachine]

I made something…

Figured that since Ozai looked so young in his portrait, that must mean it was made shortly after his coronation, or thereabouts, so applying that logic here, ZuZu stills looks young and handsome. The dragons, I know, that event was meant to be kept secret, but counter argument, this painting doesn’t necessarily say, “Hey, Dragons are still alive—here’s a map!” It’s just a bit of artsy-fartsy majestic embellishment. Also, I feel like Zuko might want to rebrand the Fire Nation, just a little, you know, after the 100 year war. So instead of just pure fire iconography, he brings things back to their roots, aka, the dragon. More dragon iconography!!! In this portrait, Zuko isn’t the one firebending, it’s the dragons, the first Firebenders. And in the meantime, he’s holding out a White Lotus. Now, I tried to use my Google Fu to find out if there was ever any symbol in Japan or Korea or China that meant “peace,” but my search results came up empty, so I figured that perhaps the lotus could become their version of, say, the olive branch. A discreet and tasteful way to include such a major part of the final battle while having a double meaning. Also, take note of the fact that he’s holding it with BOTH hands. In Japan, when one offers a gift, you always do so with both hands. And while I know it may look a little strange, Zuko towering over his friends—bro—this was always going to be Zuko’s Firelord portrait. He was always going to be the main focus. He just wanted to also include his friends and commemorate the day the war finally ended/his coronation. Anyway, that’s all for now… hope that wasn’t too much… and if anyone has any ideas for how to make it even better, pls let me know.

And to all those who say the element order is backwards…

*ahem*

Japanese and traditional Chinese text layouts are read -right to left-

THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME 👏

[myimaginarywonderland]

Listen I know Jack shit about football besides basics but I can assure you this:

The German NT would flop even harder than this where it not for Manuel Neuer.

He's quiet literally the saving grace for that shit hole of a team (I am saying this as a German who after some of the players statements regarding the issues with LGBTQ+ in Quatar hates some players more than ever.)

[catacini]

it's not en vogue to hate women, even jokingly, anymore, but it's not like men have stopped hating women. they've gotten quieter about it in some places. speaking as an anime fan, a sentiment i've picked up on is "we left to keep our opinions to ourselves while watching vtubers and playing gacha games, so if you get into those things and get upset when the subculture is misogynist, that's your own fault - this is our only refuge." in a way i can sort of appreciate that effort of self containment, even if it's horrifying.

to that end, if a vtuber/company or gacha game does something "feminist," the hatred is swift and vitriolic. there's an impulse to extinguish it to the roots before it can "poison their sanctuary." i've seen guys spewing the same sentiment YOU thought was over - women belong in the kitchen, they have no minds of their own, and if they start acting like they can think we need to punish them severely before they hurt others or themselves. it becoming the norm for japanese companies and artists to treat women as people is literally nightmarish to them (in part due to racist wishes projected onto japan obviously), and they will become physically violent in an effort to terrify people back into their place. it hasn't stopped.

what a shame that antifeminism is so prevalent that companies in other countries have to worry about violent threats and escalation if they work with a feminist artist. what a shame that nobody that's not an anime fan is talking about this, because the entire subculture has been mostly written off as unsalvageable anyway. what a shame that feminism has become a shambling corpse of reactionary ideology paraded about by corporations for a quick buck, while abject hatred continues to fester in plain sight. what a shame that it's not just an american issue, and the situation sparking this post (artist being fired for being pro-choice since the company that hired them is getting violent threats) is happening due to men's hatred of feminism in south korea.

and the saddest part of it is i see how much energy and unity these men display in eradicating feminist thought in their subcultures - the organization and commitment is impressive. i see that, and i have to reckon with the fact that i will never see that level of devotion from the rest of us in stomping out misogyny. i think about how republicans are better at organizing than democrats, i think about how feminism as a movement is more or less "over and solved" in most people's minds, and i find myself asking why are we so fucking lazy.

[formulawolff]

vi. morning confessional - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 2.5k

warnings: i typed this entire chapter on my phone while i was at work, so if there are any spelling errors, oopsies! cursing, age gaps, power imbalances, yearning, tons of yearning, oral (f! receiving), mentions of sex, teasing, slight praise kink, slight size kink, yadayadayada

prev. | next.

rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, causing you to stir. scrunching your nose, a yawn takes hold. at the action, his arms instinctively pull you in closer, smothering your face in his chest.

“good morning.”

“good morning beautiful girl,” his voice is thick with sleep, and oh so sexy, “how did you sleep?”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“better than usual.”

“me too,” soft lips connect with your temple, “what time is it?”

yawning once more, you roll over, plucking your phone off the nightstand.

“8:38 a.m.”

“shit.”

“somewhere to be?”

“yes,” the team principal groans, rubbing his eyes, “unfortunately i am running very late for it. i’ll just let my assistant know i can’t make it.”

“oops,” you shrug, collapsing back into his arms, “why can’t you just stay every night?”

“you know why, schatzi,” he murmurs, squeezing you, “this is going to be a long two weeks.”

“awww,” you tease, ruffling his hair, “is someone going to miss me?”

“you have no idea.”

“we’ll be in japan. that will surely be exciting,” you begin to run your hand through his hair, melting as his lashes flutter.

“and you know what comes after japan.”

“miami,” you suck in a breath, “that still gives me some time to consider everything.”

“just don’t overthink it,” one eye opens, “if you overdo it, you’ll start to reconsider every little thing.”

“i know,” you exhale, “it’s just overwhelming. i don’t like disappointing people either.”

“oh i know,” toto leans in, the tip of his nose brushing yours, “you tend to put on this facade that you’re selfish, doing things only for your gain. however, i have learned that deep down, you’re a huge people pleaser. that’s why you’ve been dragging your feet in giving me your answer. you don’t want hurt james. you don’t want to disappoint the team. most of all, you don’t want to face the backlash that will follow.”

your lower lip trembles, tears welling up in your eyes. they threaten to spill over, and his brows furrow, “oh schatzi, i didn’t mean to hurt your—“

“no,” you sniffle, “i just hate that you’re right.”

“you don’t have to spend your life pleasing others, you know,” his arms engulf you in an embrace, rubbing circles on your back as you weep into his chest, “you’re allowed to make decisions for yourself. you need to do what you feel is best.”

“but there’s just one thing that i can’t shake,” the words are barely coherent, but he hears them anyway.

“and that is?” he inquires, kneading into your shoulder blades.

“i want to be with you at mercedes. i’m just scared that if something happens between us, i’ll regret my decision.”

“us?”

your eyes snap open, panic settling in, “i-i, um, i — i didn’t mean anything by that, i just—“

“you want an us?” fingers grasp your chin, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

“i-i mean,” your voice falters, “isn’t it inevitably going to happen if we keep seeing one another? one of us is going to develop feelings and we’re going to—“

lips crash into yours, nearly knocking the wind out of your lungs. it’s a passionate kiss, needy and brimmed with hunger. fingers tangle in your hair, tugging at the roots as you whimper, his tongue licking along your lower lip. he sucks on it, the hand on your back delving lower and lower, gripping the curve of your ass.

a noise rumbles in the base of this throat as you suck on his tongue, the kisses growing sloppier and messier by the second. the noise is guttural, almost like a growl.

he pulls away momentarily, panting slightly, “who is to say that the feelings aren’t already there?”

“toto you don’t—“

“i do,” shifting his weight, he pins you to the bed, “like i said, i didn’t have a crush. i can’t stop thinking about you. every single time i think about racing, or my drivers, or even mercedes in general, my thoughts wander to you.”

as he takes you in, you can’t help but gaze into his eyes, your hand reaching out. fingers brush his cheek tenderly, tracing the lines that scoured his face. his lashes flutter at your touch, his chest heaving as your fingertips wander, memorizing every minuscule detail.

your fingertips land on his lips, “i just need to know one thing.”

“what is it, love?”

“this offer, signing me as a driver to mercedes. is it business or is it personal?” preparing for the worst, you feel yourself instinctively shy away.

yet, he isn’t fazed, maintaining eye contact, “do you want my honest answer?”

“of course i do.”

“personal. completely personal,” there’s a glint in his mocha depths, an emotion you couldn’t quite read.

“ever since i saw that photo of you, signing that contract with williams, i knew i wouldn’t be able to resist you. i tried, i really tried to maintain my distance. to stay away. but i can’t. there’s something about you that draws me in. i don’t quite know what, but i know that i need you by my side. at mercedes, where i can make you a world champion. my world champion. i would make my golden girl a world champion.”

“toto,” you begin, but he continues, pressing a finger to your mouth.

“yes, it would be good for mercedes to sign on a driver with your talent. our reputation would benefit. you have the qualities of a mercedes driver. but this isn’t about business. this is personal. it always has been. it always will be.”

“i-i,” you stutter, the temperature of the room elevated as toto’s mouth inches closer and closer to yours, “i don’t know—“

“you don’t have to say anything right now,” his voice is low and thready, consumed with desire, “i know it’s a lot. there’s a lot to consider and a lot at stake. but for now, just focus on me. can you do that for me baby?”

nodding meekly, anticipation takes a hold as he lowers his head, mouth connecting with your heated skin. the kisses travel further and further down, his hands finding yours, intertwining your fingers together.

“so beautiful,” he whispers, “so, so, so breathtaking.”

“so are you—“

a moan fills the space as his mouth envelops your clit through your panties. he groans at your reaction, knuckles turning white as you squirm, gripping your hands tightly.

“take them off, please.”

“so you do beg,” he taunts, his breath hot as it fans against your inner thighs, “what do you need again, schatzi?”

“i need you,” you whimper, dripping with desire, “i need you, toto wolff.”

“i’ll take care of you baby,” his pupils are dilated, blush tinging his cheeks, “just relax, and let me take care of you.”

at the sight of you beneath him, aching for his touch, toto nearly unravels.

was he dreaming? or was this heaven?

god, you were so fucking beautiful like this. all needy and desperate. between your thighs, he couldn’t help but notice the wet spot pooling in your panties. goosebumps riddled your arms and legs, yet your skin was so soft and warm.

you were practically inviting him in.

and how could he resist?

“is this okay?” the team principal tugs on the hem of your panties.

“yes,” the corners of his lips curl into a smirk at your quick response, “please, toto.”

dragging the fabric down your legs, he relishes how they glow in the morning light.

every part of you was so beautiful. every. single. part.

“open your legs,” strong hands grasp your thighs, the command sending a shiver down your spine, “i need to see that perfect pussy.”

you can’t help but obey, shielding your face instinctively as he situates himself, mouth merely centimeters from your drenched pussy.

if your body was an altar, toto was prepared to worship, savoring and praising every inch of you until there was nothing left.

“don’t hide,” he tuts, “i want you to watch.”

“but—“

a hand, your hand, covers your mouth as his tongue delves between your folds, your back arching. fingertips dig into your hips, holding you in place.

toto was a starving man. and fuck, did you taste so fucking good.

he couldn’t get enough, the tip of his nose brushing against your clit as his tongue explores every inch of you. his tongue applies pressure to your clit as he sucks lightly, swirling in circles as you buck your hips.

“oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”

toto didn’t have to ask if you were close. he could sense it, the way your muscles were beginning to tense up. the way your hips rocked back and forth, practically riding his tongue. the way your voice was growing louder and louder, yearning for more and more.

already this close and he had barely even started?

fuck, was he going to have fun with you.

“toto,” there it was again, his name from your lips, “toto, i’m going to — you’re going to make me cum.”

“you deserve it,” he pulls away, mouth and chin glistening, “you deserve it baby. cum for me. be a good girl and cum for me.”

the words coax you to the edge, and you feel a finger wedge its way into your tight hole, your walls stretch, adjusting to the size of his finger. just as you get used to one, he shoves another inside, pumping them in and out, curling once they’re inside.

the euphoria crashes over you like a tidal wave as his mouth plants kisses over your clit, practically making out with your pussy. you feel your walls close in, the pleasure wound up tightly in your lower abdomen.

“toto,” you’re almost breathless, “i-i’m going to cum.”

moans flood toto’s ears as you orgasm, your thighs squeezing against his ears. your muscles twitch and shudder, juices dribbling down his chin.

pressing one last kiss to your pussy, he catches his breath, wiping his chin.

before you know it, two fingers are pressed against your lips, “taste yourself.”

opening wide, your tongue dances along the digits, licking them clean. toto watches in awe, a fiery hunger burning within.

it took every fiber of his being not to just spread you open again, filling you up, claiming you.

claiming what was rightfully his.

“oh my god,” you exhale, scrambling to muster a single coherent thought, “that was—“

“you’ll get more.”

your back meets with the mattress once again, hands on your head, “holy shit.”

“never had a man make you cum like that before?” you want to slap the smug smirk off his face.

but you stop yourself, feeling a frown form as he plucks his clothes off of the floor, shoving his legs into his slacks.

“leaving so soon?”

“i have to go,” relief ripples from your head to your toes as you sense his disappointment. he was just as upset to go, “i want to stay baby, but i have about sixty-two missed calls and seventy texts. they’re wondering where i am and i need to get going.”

“that’s all right,” reaching for own phone, you wonder if you were in a similar predicament.

you couldn’t quite remember, but you were sure you had missed a few meetings. one of them was more than likely with the press. one was probably a team meeting before the next destination.

“what’s going to be your excuse?”

toto pauses momentarily, leaning over to give you a swift peck, “the answer is simple. they won’t get one. they don’t need to know where i was.”

“someone’s grumpy,” you giggle as you notice the prominent frown.

“yeah i am.”

“and why’s that?” you arch a brow.

“because i want to fuck the shit out of you,” the casual delivery has you reeling, your heart fluttering as he shoves his arms into his dress shirt.

“i want to watch you cum again and again and again. but i can’t. i have to go about my day as if i didn’t just taste pure ambrosia on my tongue. i have to sit there and answer phone calls, emails, my team, and act like nothing ever happened.”

“is it hard for you?”

“of course it’s hard,” toto runs a hand through his hair, and you pick out the tightness of his jaw as he speaks, “i want to tell someone. i want to tell someone how the most beautiful woman in the world has me wrapped around her finger. how i’m putty in her hands. but i can’t.”

“toto, i—“

“i hate to interrupt you,” he crosses over to the bed once again, scooping you up in his embrace, “but i really have to go. i’ll text you, okay? maybe we can rendezvous at some point in these next few weeks. i’ll fly you out. you wouldn’t have to pay a single penny.”

“okay,” you nod, inhaling his scent one last time, attempting to memorize the way his arms feel around your frame. it was far too quick, toto pulling away, tousling your hair.

“be a good girl for me. i’ll see you soon.”

“i’ll see you soon, toto.”

and just like that, he was gone.

biting your lip, you curl up on the mattress, throwing the comforter over your body.

you shouldn’t cry. not over this.

but why did you feel that urge? why was it becoming increasingly more difficult to focus on anything other than the team principal?

yeah, you had a crush on him. that was years ago, when you were a teenager. that was innocent, a young girl swooning over a man nearly three times her age.

now, that crush was developing into something much more. something far more complex that you could have ever imagined.

you were falling head over heels for toto wolff, whether you liked it or not.

and you couldn’t fight it, no matter how hard you tried to push those feelings away. you had tried to seal them away in a box, throwing out the key.

somehow toto had found that damn key.

he was the key, really.

and who knew what would happen if you opened the lid to that box.

however, there were far more pressing matters.

picking up your phone, you scroll through your messages, notifications, and emails.

there was nothing too crazy you missed, just a quick debrief before you all left for home for the next week or so.

although, one particular text caught your eye.

it was james, sent about fifteen minutes ago.

good morning, american girl! i’m not sure if you’re aware, but the fia has made their decision concerning your tussle with george. it’s not good, but it’s not bad either. i figured you were probably not feeling up to the team meeting since you got pretty banged up from the crash. get some rest, then give me a call when you can.

also, is there a reason why toto wolff approached me yesterday? he was asking about your contract. do you have any idea what that was about?

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

taglist: @toldyouitwasamelodrama @nebarious @whoisss @kravitzwhore @prettiest-at-the-party @persona1lies @zoeyjadetice2010

let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist! thank you for reading! <3

[remotewatch]

some call it arrogance

Jack Schlossberg x reader | 2.5k wc

summary: Let’s face it: you kind of suck at paddleboarding. Thankfully, your boyfriend is an eager instructor with a trick up his sleeve!

cw: shameless smut, outdoor recreation, questionable teaching, peppy upbeat softdom jack (good lord), fingering, unprotected sex, if you want to keep your plan b go VOTE ‼️‼️, play fighting, jd is catching strays, this is somewhat a comedy

minors dni and stay out!!!!

Time and time again, you realize that you and Jack have very different definitions of what constitutes a short paddle. You could pass out right here on your little break, sun hat plopped over your face and one leg dangling in the pleasantly cool water. He tugs you closer to his board to drum a few fingers on your knee and ask “You asleep?” just as you’re drifting off.

A barely audible “mhm” is all you care to let out. Jack’s hand slides to your inner thigh, a polite veneer of concern slapped onto his more crude interests.

“Do you need something?” When you lift your hat to squint over at him for being so euphemistic, he’s already zapping you with those doe eyes you struggle to resist.

“Diva, the telephotos,” you mumble as you flop back down. There’s almost certainly no one hiding out in the mangroves waiting to catch you two, but the press had noted the extension of your Japan trip to stop at Iriomote. Your growing collection of condemning paparazzi pics is already nudging at the edge of your mind, and you have no desire to add to it today.

“They can’t get a good shot this far out.” His hand stills when you don’t murmur back how much of a whore he’d have to be to know that so definitively.

“Here, let’s get out of the sun for a bit. Get you a honey stick or something.” A grateful thumbs up is the most movement you care to make.

As much as you like getting into Jack’s hobbies with him, it’s undeniably more fun to have him tow you around whistling Elvis tunes like your little chauffeur. It would be so easy to fall asleep to the sound of it paired with the waves crashing in the distance; maybe you do; it’s really none of your business.

The temperature suddenly drops, and you briefly tilt your hat up to see he’s steered you into a particularly thick mangle. It’s a straight, narrow shot from it up to the shore; exactly the type of hidden launch he’d know about.

He turns around from rooting in the supply bag and waggles a fanned out selection of power bars, honey straws, and glucose gels at you.

“What’re we having today, huh?” Still hiding under your hat, you grasp blindly until you find a few straws and tear one open with your teeth, shoving your dentist’s exasperation to the back of your mind. Jack knows better than to pester you until your temperature and blood sugar level out a bit. Eventually, you rise from the dead and get a better look at your spot.

The mangrove roots here are as thick as you’ve ever seen and rise far enough out of the water that you could set up a hammock under them. Schools of diminutive silver fish swirl beneath the surface, bouncing light back up to paint the underside of the overhead foliage. The two of you are technically visible from open water, but a pap would have to drop anchor at the perfect angle to get more than a glimpse. You remind yourself that you’re on the west side of the island anyway; surely there’s more exciting things to report on than America’s most notorious SUP proficiency gap relationship.

“You’re getting better, you know.” You gnaw at a second honey straw and scrunch up your nose.

“Am I?”

“For sure. Remember Lake Superior?”

“God, must I?” you groan, wincing at the mere thought.

“Gotta appreciate where you started!” Jack is laid out on his board doing alternate toe touches, and the fact that it’s more of an unconscious ritual than a way of showing off his balance makes it all the more annoying.

He’s truly so pretty, even after putting your legs through hell on the way out. The little gaps in the mangrove canopy cover him in spots of sunlight, and he still refuses to buy a smaller pair of shorts, just rolling down the hem of those ratty old ones until they’re shorter than any of yours. You’re too busy watching them fall further down his thighs with every leg raise to notice he’s still talking.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said-,” Jack finishes the last of his coconut water and smacks his lips. “Why don’t you stretch a bit before we head back?” You press your hands flat as if to push yourself up, and he notes your hesitation.

“What is it?”

“…Can you spot me?” His smile cracks his whole face open like a fresh daffodil, clearly thrilled to be needed.

“Why, certainly.”

You brace yourself as he slides onto your board as easily as scooting closer on the couch, quads flexing delectably while he helps you stand up.

“Do a forward bend for me,” Jack effortlessly slips back into his instructor cadence, to the point that you could forget he’s your boyfriend aside from his hands feeling far more than professionally comfortable on your hips. He leans up against your backside to peer over you as you place your palms flat on the deck, not bothering to conceal how much it excites him. After the tension of the paddle out and stiffening up during your nap, the stretch in your hamstrings is virtually orgasmic. Jack doesn’t miss the little sigh of relief you let out, nor do you the the smugness that spills into his voice.

“And walk it out, just like that,” you can feel him staring at your ass and can’t even kick his shin without knocking you both over.

“Can you at least pretend to enjoy this a little less?” it doesn’t sound very commanding with his dick pressed right up against you before you shift into downward dog. Even less so when he knows how much you love a good calf stretch, knows exactly how far to push you into it to make you melt in his hands.

“If I’m not happy to be here, how can I expect you to have any fun?” There’s a brief wobble as he reaches to grab your ankles and help you move to a headstand, but one shift of his heel and you might as well be back on dry land.

“That’s why I said pretend.”

“That’s why I’m not an actor. And, push yourself up!” If nothing else, you’re decent at handstands, at least with Jack ready to catch your legs. Decent on a good day, that is, when the humidity isn’t bleeding your energy like a stuck pig. Your right palm slips into the water, and you screw your eyes shut in anticipation of a face full of board and a few tree bark scrapes.

“Fuck!” you hiss, but his grip instantly locks down on your ankles and lifts you out of the line of fire. Jack’s obliques ripple as he rights the board, and he’s very clearly pleased to catch your notice of it.

“That’s alright, you had a few good seconds there.” He lets you swing a few moments longer than necessary before lowering you back down and piping up again. Ever the show-off.

“It’s always…,” he hesitates as if he’s searching for the right words. “-been my understanding that if you can balance on all fours in unfavorable circumstances, you can stay standing just fine.”

“And what kind of unfavorable circumstances would you be talking about?” it’s obvious, though you’d rather hear him say it. He knows you too well to take the bait and cheekily rolls his eyes.

“You know, the favorable ones.”

“Is that what they teach you at surf instructor school?” Your hands are back on the board now, and you kick one foot free to slide it down his chest under his shorts.

“Oh yeah, the first thing,” he chuckles, fishing it out before helping you down into a plank.

Jack somehow wriggles his way under you without causing any major upheaval, claiming it’s the easiest way to check your form. He’s talking like this is your first time on a board just to wind you up and making no attempt to hide how much he enjoys doing so.

“Now, there’s nothing to it, just gotta make sure you’re not leaning too far to the left-“ he tugs at one of your bikini ties.

“Or the right,” he twists the other between his fingers, not quite loose enough to fall off, but certainly plenty of room for him to slide his fingers below your waistband. His smile grows wider when he pulls them back out to observe their newfound shine. You have a halfhearted go at defending your reactivity.

“That has nothing to do with you.”

“Oh yeah? You’re pulling a JD, getting riled up by the dolphins?” If your balance or endurance were half as good as his, you’d shove him off your board and ditch him right there. The best you can do is double down; a bit pitiful, but better than giving him any satisfaction right after that bullshit.

“And these are the unfavorable circumstances? Seriously?” It’s more the stupid fucking grin on his face than the controlled circles he’s tracing on your clit that’s disrupting your concentration. You’re hoping that focusing on the space between Jack’s eyebrows will keep your mind blank, but his fingers feel better and better the more you try to ignore them sliding around like he’s trying to memorize every cell you’ve got down there.

“It would be deeply irresponsible of me to throw you right into the deep end. Safety first, after all.”

“So irresponsible,” the mocking tone you’re going for doesn’t really work when your pitch is stuttering in perfect response to his movements.

Your eyes slip closed out of habit, but he’s right there playfully pinching your nipple to bring you back to reality.

“Hey, now! No daydreaming during your lesson! That’s not very considerate to your instructor,” he’s trying to pout up at you, hit you right in your weak spot, but he looks far too pleased with himself for the illusion to work.

“What if he deserves it for comparing me to a bloated couch fucker?” Again, the conviction isn’t really there when you’re bending your knees into terrible form trying to chase his touch every time they recede.

Jack yanks his fingers away, sucks them clean with a slippery pop, and kisses you on the point of your chin before shuffling out from under you.

“Clearly you’re not being challenged enough if you can complain like that!”

This time, you do try to kick him off the board, but you have no range at all to put some power into it. That’s what you tell yourself, at least.

“Look at you! You wouldn’t have been able to do that at Lake Superior. Told you you’re getting better!” He’s tugged his shorts down and your swimsuit to the side before you can snap at him, and he actually cackles when he sees how much your lats twitch when he first slides in.

“You’re unbelievable.” The way your voice shakes makes it sound more like a compliment than a last ditch effort to compose yourself.

“That’s what I’ve heard! There you go, arch for me.” He’s not causing much motion yet, only waves big enough to scatter the fish, but you’re wound so tight he might as well be putting you straight through the deck. Your arms are already shaking, and of course Jack notices; how could he not?

“Keep your arms steady. No, don’t lock them up, lean into it,” he’s saying like they’re not on fire, like you can’t feel yourself clamping down on him in some sort of weird unified muscular system effort to keep you from falling on your face.

“Can’t believe y-“

“How fast you’re progressing? I know, right! You must have a pretty good teacher!” He’s absolutely insufferable. You’ve been moving nonstop since dawn, he’s got your ass locking up like an NDA, and his voice is still perfectly fucking steady.

Jack’s middle finger just barely trails along your side, feather-light enough to raise goosebumps on your skin.

“You’re holding too much tension here.” Thank god, he mercifully spares you the lecture about proper abdominal engagement.

“Jack, I can’t- I’m gonna fall!” The wavering in your voice is so unbelievably humiliating when he’s barely breaking a sweat. Your arms buckle, threatening collapse, and there he is seamlessly shifting his hands from your hips to swing under your torso and support you when they finally give out, the other splaying flat across the deck.

“Noooo you’re not, you’re fine. You can have a little break, and then we’ll try again, okay?” All while his thrusts remain infuriatingly consistent. The board barely even moves when he catches you. Your nails scrabble at the deck pad, then the limb supporting you, trying to regain your balance, ground yourself, Jesus, something, but he’s got a better angle now and can haul you back onto his dick as hard as he likes without worrying about your arms giving out.

“You’re such an asshole!” you sob as you claw at his forearm.

“Tell me to stop then! Be silly and turn down a free lesson, why dontcha?” Any attempts you make to thrash your way out of Jack’s grasp just stimulate you more, and he’s suppressing a fit of laughter watching you jolt like you’re stuck in a bear trap. When all that’s left for him to knock out of you are little stilted squeals, his resolve softens, and he leans down to kiss your ear.

“I know you can do it. Push yourself up for me.”

The only way out is through. This time, your arms do lock up; blame the unfavorable circumstances. The world narrows to tunnel vision as you watch the board tilt left, then right, with the ringing in your ears making the whole spectacle feel a tinge nightmarish.

Your orgasm hits you hard enough to have Jack choking out an “oh, fuck” that sounds just as strangled as his dick must feel. You can hardly enjoy it over both of your triceps cramping terribly, though you can’t help but feel a little proud of yourself for staying dry when you slump to your elbows halfway through.

As unceremoniously as Jack thuds down at your side, he still instinctively spreads out enough to keep the board steady. He looks about ready to fall asleep, so of course you roll over to bother him.

“Is that how you taught people to surf?”

“Nah, they were way more advanced.”

“Fuck you!” He’s back on his board and paddling out of the inlet in a flash, somehow not flipping yours in the process.

“Sounds like someone doesn’t need any breaks on the return trip!” By some miracle, you manage to grab his leash before he flies past you.

“You’ll tow me back.” Jack spares you a full glance over his shoulder, and there’s an unmistakable streak of you remaining on the left side of his mouth.

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m your favorite student.”

[olderthannetfic]

Now I'm wondering how countries like Japan and China teach literacy.

Since kanji / hanzi don't really have that much in the way of phonetic elements, they kinda have to teach them by memorization and I don't think they have many reading comprehension problems over there.

(Although both countries do have supplementary phonetic writing systems in the form of bopomofo and pinyin for China, and the kanas for Japan)

--

FAVORITE SOAPBOX TOPIC UNLOCKED!

RELEASE THE KRAKEN!

It's a little closer to teaching vocabulary than spelling, but the same kinds of principles apply: You teach the building blocks, like the traditional radicals, which aren't so different from teaching Latin and Greek roots in an English class for English speakers.

And, as a matter of fact, lots of those radicals do predict pronunciation, just not in every single case. They can also be clues to meaning, but again, not absolutely consistently. Many characters have a sound-cueing radical on one side and a meaning-cueing radical on the other. It's just that only some are still useful in the modern day, while others are more like the English word 'plumbing' where knowledge of Roman lead pipes explains why this word comes from the one for lead, but the root probably wouldn't help a kid learn the word in the first place.

One similarity to teaching phonics would be teaching students to tell very complicated and similar characters apart: you want to help a student spot all the little building blocks of the character and then spot the ones that are different, not just glance at the whole character and get a general overall vibe. If you do a whole look-based approach, too many characters are too easy to mistake for one another.

Remembering a bajillion Chinese characters is hard if you're trying to memorize them in a year and not all of elementary school, but I think people who don't read them underestimate how many component parts there are and how approachable they can be if you start by learning fundamentals, not just memorizing a few individual characters as though they have no relation to anything else.

They're actually pretty systematic, just in the way that English spelling is with its overlapping systems and historical artifacts, not in the way that highly regular Spanish spelling is.

Having taken a lot of Japanese classes, I will say that Japanese as a foreign language textbooks often do a piss poor job of this and totally do teach kanji in a sight words-y way... But my Mandarin class started with important foundational concepts that served me well in Japanese later even if I bombed out of Chinese class at the time.

Can you tell how irritated I am by all the foreign language learners who think characters are sooooo hard when, really, it's just their crappy textbook? Haha.

They're moderately hard in the way that learning a full adult spectrum of vocabulary is hard, but people do that for foreign languages all the time. The countries that use characters do tend to make sets that are smaller for certain kinds of applications, same as we have things like simple English wikipedia, but a literate adult will always know lots more, whether it's from their career in engineering or their predilection for historical romance novels.

Uh... anyway, the answer is "Bit by bit in elementary school, just like in any other country".

[yerimbrit]

insufferable : k. chaewon

synopsis: i (21f) absolutely detest my roommate (21f). we've known each other for years, but have always had this unspoken beef?, for lack of a better word. i tried requesting a dorm change but was denied. my friend offered to switch dorms but my roommate started acting weirdly after i told her about it. what should i do?

# : pairing ! nonidol!kim chaewon x fem!reader

# : tags ! college!au, enemies to something else, crack, fluff, light angst, they're so petty it's insane, forced proximity, reader is lowk a jock, temperature is in fahrenheit cus i'm american sorry, miscommunication, arguments, kazuha owns a wii and a betta fish

# : wordcount ! 4.7k

# : warnings ! none

"you've got to be kidding me."

chaewon scoffed, looking at you with an expression that nearly matched yours which held an inexplicable amount of disgust. she rolled her suitcase into the dorm, slipping off her vans slip-ons. "shouldn't i be saying that? no one would want to room with you, hello?"

you scowled, turning back to the tv, logging into your netflix account. "you know what, whatever. i mind my own business, you mind yours. let's just make this easier on both of us, yeah?"

"for once, i agree with you."

ah, yes. kim chaewon. the bane of your existence, and also the girl you'd been beefing with since the third grade. it all started when she said that she could beat you in a race during the sports festival. then, after she lost the race, she had started stealing your juiceboxes when you weren't looking. as a result, you laughed at her crayon drawings and knocked down her block towers for revenge.

the exchanges eventually escalated into middle school and high school, your rivalry turning into petty arguments and pointed glares across the room. it only got worse when your mothers had gotten close at one particular school event, and you had to see chaewon even more than usual. to add onto that, you always saw her at your basketball games because she was the captain of the cheer team.

kim chaewon was a constant in your life. and god, was she so annoying.

"she's so annoying," you grumbled, popping a french fry into your mouth. "i mean, who the hell does pilates in the living room!?"

kazuha smiled and took a sip of her root beer. "me. it's actually kind of fun, you should try when you can't make it to the gym."

"you know she's a gym bro, it's like her second home," yunjin snorted, stealing a fry off of your plate, which effectively earned her a swat of the hand.

yunjin and kazuha were both on the basketball team with you, but kazuha was also on your high school team. you were the one who'd convinced her to join due to her height, on just her second day at school after transferring from japan. then, you and kazuha met yunjin at orientation, who was also planning on trying out for your college's team, and once you all made it, you were inseparable.

you sighed. "you're literally the one who goes with me, yunjin."

the american threw her hands up in a guilty manner, then stole another fry. "anyway, can we talk about something else? this whole time you've been talking about your roommate, personally i don't care but i hear this everyday. you even blow up the groupchat to talk about her."

"i think i've heard her name more than my own," kazuha shuddered. she drank the rest of her soda, resulting in the straw making an obnoxious sound when the cup emptied. "are you sure you aren't like, in love with her or something? i've never seen you talk about someone so much, someone other than chaewon."

you gagged. you? in love with chaewon? quite the opposite. "that's absolutely disgusting, zuha. don't ever mention me, chaewon, and in love, in the same sentence, again."

you would rather die than date kim chaewon. literally everything about her infuriated you. for example: she woke up way too early.

recalling the past few days, you grimaced. last night while you were on a game-replay-turned-movie-binge, you heard the girl start singing and working in the kitchen. and while you had to admit she did have a killer voice, it was 5 am and you still hadn't gone to sleep.

also, she spent hours in the bathroom. even after being let known that you were exhausted and sweaty from practice, she spared no pity for you. she even went as far as to take another thirty minutes just to spite you. what did she even do in there?

and every time you came back late from a party or from hanging out with yunjin and kazuha, she scolded you. it was always about having some respect for her and how irresponsible you were for not returning at an appropriate time. what was she, your mom?

it seemed chaewon just loved to scold you. be quiet at night, stop leaving your towels everywhere, can you shut up so i can study, clean up after you finish your takeout, that wasn't even the end of it.

(after a grueling practice session led by your team captain, you were just about ready to pass out on your bed. unfortunately, you couldn't do that until you showered and chaewon was in the sole bathroom that your dorm had.

"why's it so fucking hot," you whined, begrudgingly getting up to check the thermostat. as you shuffled over while wiping your forehead clear of sweat with the towel hanging around your neck, you could slowly and clearly make out the number 78.

"what the fuck."

"oh, you're back."

speak of the devil, who just came out of the shower with her hair still wet and dripping onto her white my melody tee.

you furrowed your eyebrows, trying not to focus on her appearance, her bare face that looked too good, and pointed to the thermostat. "could you," you coughed, wiping the sweat off of your nose, "care to tell me why our dorm is set to 78 degrees."

chaewon sneered. "it was cold.")

a text sucked you out of your dingy flashback. it was from chaewon, of course it was. 'it's ur turn to take out the trash this week.' how about it's your turn to take her out? with a punch, of course. yeah.

"gotta go," you stood up, letting out an unnecessary and exaggerated groan as you stretched your back muscles. "the demon is calling."

"so can i have your last fry or what?"

you scoffed at yunjin, snatching the fry and shoving it in your mouth. the blonde mumbled something under her breath that you couldn't catch, but kazuha interjected before you could flick her on the nose.

"hey, you should do us a favor and confess already!"

"i don't like her like that! or at all! i'll stop spamming you if that's what you want, just stop assuming i have a crush on chaewon."

yunjin smirked. "'cause you do?"

"'cause i don't!"

you started walking towards the exit of the diner, dreading the upcoming encounter with your roommate. and also dreading the future "chaey/n" ship texts from the two idiots. you reminded yourself to set up an anti-yunjin booth to counter her upcoming student council campaign.

"you can kiss a hundred boys in ba—"

"can you shut the fuck up? i'm trying to study," chaewon half-groaned and half-yelled as she slammed your door open.

you were currently in a sweat-inducing fight against malenia in your summonless run of elden ring, with sakura (who happened to be best friends with chaewon) screaming in your ear whenever you failed to dodge the boss's waterfowl dance. just as you narrowly avoided an attack, you started singing good luck, babe! in a panic.

because you were still fighting the boss, and because you only heard something thud, you didn't realize that your fuming roommate was standing in your room, waiting for you to notice her presence.

chaewon moved to stand next to you, hands on her hips as her patience continued to thin out. the 'you died' screen faded in on your screen and you respawned at the site of grace, whining while sakura both laughed at you and scolded you through the discord voice chat.

through the corner of your eye, you could barely see a bit of pink. huh. what was pink in your room? almost nothing, besides the pinkie pie plush that yunjin had gotten you as a joke, but that was resting on your bed and you certainly didn't recall getting anything else this week.

...until you looked up and saw the scowling face of kim chaewon.

"how did you not see me for the past ten minutes."

your mouth dropped open and you pressed the mute button on your mic before taking your headphones off. "i was busy! and why are you here anyway?"

chaewon gripped the pale pink fabric of her twice hoodie in frustration. "i came in ten minutes ago to tell you to shut up, but you didn't hear me!"

"you could've, i don't know, tapped my shoulder!?" you yelled back, pinching the bridge of your nose. how were you supposed to know she was there when you were so focused on your computer screen?

"ugh!" she turned away, exasperated. "god, i wish you out of all people weren't my roommate! i mean who even sings to chappell roan while they're being chased down!?"

upon hearing her words, it hit you. you had asked the RA minjeong for a dorm change, but she had simply told you to suck it up, or find someone willing to swap with you. and lucky for you, sakura was more than willing to do exactly that, because she hated rooming with your best pal yunjin.

"you know what, i've got just the news for you."

the shorter girl looked startled, but ever so impatient. "what?"

you pulled up your texts with the older japanese girl, revealing an agreement that she would switch with you because "yunjin keeps taking naps on our sofa and leaving crumbs everywhere u can have her," smiling in victory.

to your utter surprise, chaewon went quiet. then she bit her lip and left your room without another word.

"what the fuck?"

this week felt different. you no longer heard humming from the kitchen in the morning but heard sounds of sizzling and clashing, the fresh aroma of breakfast she cooked making its way even through the door to your room.

chaewon stopped doing pilates in the living room, she stopped telling you to clean up and instead waited for you to do it at your own pace. she stopped texting you to shut up, and she hadn't spent any more time than necessary in the bathroom besides her lengthy nightly routine.

it was weird. why was chaewon doing the exact opposite of what you complained about?

so you did the obvious and asked her about it, when she was in the living room watching something on your netflix account connected to the tv.

"hey."

she hummed, not bothering to turn around and face you. what the hell was her problem?

you strided to the side of the couch, scoffing when she didn't pay even an ounce of attention to you. unfortunately, that only pissed you off more. you grabbed the remote and paused the episode of whatever drama she was on.

the girl whipped her head around, eventually meeting your eyes. "what are you doing!?"

your roommate took her dramas very seriously. so of course, this resulted in an agitated chaewon. well, at least she was looking at you.

"no," you started, "what are you doing?"

she furrowed her brow, crossing her arms. "i don't know what you're talking about."

seriously? she still wanted to play dumb? you crossed your arms, mirroring her posture. "you know damn well what i'm talking about. you're acting so," you threw your hands up in a mocking manner, "weird. you're not trying to piss me off anymore. which, in turn, is pissing me off even more!"

"are you a masochist, by any chance?" she ridiculed, stifling her laughter.

"no! can you just answer my question?"

chaewon scowled, standing up from her spot on the couch and walking right in front of you. there was an angry red blush settling on her ears, and she had to look up at you. it would be a lie to say it wasn't the least bit cute.

her finger pressed on your chest, forcefully pushing you back by half a step. "i've been acting nice for you, and this is how you respond? can't you be grateful for once in your sorry life!?"

"well i'm sorry that i'm weirded the fuck out when you're always so pissy! can you imagine my reaction when you suddenly start acting like an angel? good thing you don't need to imagine, it's right in front of you," you stepped closer to her, gritting your teeth.

as you looked down you could see slight eyebags messily covered by makeup, and the strands of hair sticking out after she haphazardly tied it into a bun. you almost wanted to reach out and at least move her bangs out of her face.

on the other hand, chaewon was seething. "you know what?" she hissed, glaring at you with such killer intent that it made you shrink back. "i'm glad you're moving out. sakura would be so much better than you."

her anger reflecting in her teary eyes had reached you, yet there was a hint of softness somewhere in them. you sighed in defeat. "...fine."

"fine? hey, wait! i'm not done with you, damn it!"

without waiting for an answer, you grabbed your phone and keys, walking out the door while ignoring the shorter girl's questions and yells.

you found yourself in kazuha's apartment. the basketball player lived by herself, not counting the super blue betta fish she kept in the living room. jinsoul—the betta, you mean—was trained and was even taught to do tricks, like following your finger across the aquarium, swimming through hoops, et cetera.

"so you mean to tell me, you just walked out after fighting with her and let yourself in with my spare key?" kazuha yawned out, dropping a few pellets into the tank. a wide grin spread across her lips as she watched the fish eat.

sometimes it felt like kazuha believed that jinsoul (again, the fish) was her real daughter; it would be laughable if she wasn't so dead serious about it. the topic was always brought up by either you or yunjin when you were over, but was always deflected by the girl.

you groaned, making yourself comfortable on her linen couch. there was a barely noticeable stain in the corner where yunjin had spilled her buldak noodles, to which she apologized profusely and brought over a dozen cleaning products to get rid of it.

safe to say, it was successful, since she, for some reason, already had these products in her car and rushed over to get them.

the three of you were the only ones who knew about the stain. oftentimes you'd forget it was there, but the initial sight of it would crawl out from the back of your mind.

"at least i didn't come back empty-handed. i got you one of those overpriced parfaits from the café down the block," you picked at a stray hangnail, staring at the view of the foliage outside of the window.

kazuha rolled her eyes, suppressing a grin but ultimately failing. she made her way over to you with the parfait, moving your legs so she could sit down. a contented sigh made its way out her mouth after she took the first bite.

her hand reached for the tv remote, pressing the power button and switching to a certain hdmi channel. "i know what would cheer you up."

she reached over to press another button on an old, white console, then pulling out two rectangular controllers. it took a while, but soon you could hear the fan of the wii roar to life and see the familiar opening display on the tv.

it didn't take you long to realize your teammate's intention in booting up the wii. your eyes widened in horror as you watched kazuha push the small coffee table to a corner and select the top left channel which showed the wonders of hell, and your worst fear: just dance 4.

"zuha, you can't be serious."

the girl only hummed and took her last bite of the parfait, which disappeared within seconds. jesus, sometimes you forgot she was practically a vacuum when it came to food.

now, you had no way out of this; you were only able to whine when you got handed the controller, and only able to watch while kazuha scrolled to what was arguably one of the hardest songs: disturbia. and as much as you admired rihanna you could not do this without cracking your hips at least once.

➤➤ fast forward

kazuha struck the final pose without breaking a sweat—completely opposite of you: collapsed against the front of the couch, still fighting your demons after an exhausting four minutes.

the outro of the song, despite having faded away for a few moments, echoed in your head like a haunting wail. your t-shirt was disgustingly drenched in sweat, and you might've passed out if not for the glass of pity-water handed to you by the outdo-er.

"i'm pooped," you groaned, covering your eyes with your arm. kazuha giggled and took a seat next to you, ruffling your already unkempt hair with a free hand. her other hand was holding a glass of water for herself.

"that couldn't have been worse than coach kang's laps. you play center, yet queen rihanna gets you sweating more than a game against our rival school."

"leave me alone," you whined, dragging out the 'e' at the end. "i just got fought with a baby cheetah."

kazuha made a teasing 'oooh' sound, wiggling her eyebrows and making you push her by the shoulder. "you even have a nickname for her?"

"piss off, nakamura," you pinched your the bridge of your nose, "but seriously, that shit drained me. both disturbia and kim chaewon. i just don't understand why she started doing the opposite of what she used to."

"hmm."

"i mean, the look on her face at some point—it was different, unreadable. i couldn't tell what she was feeling. she said i couldn't be grateful for her nice behavior, but is it really my fault? am i the asshole here? ...hey, are you listening?" you blew a strand of hair out of your face, turning to look at kazuha who was rubbing her chin like some sort of psychic.

she scrunched up her eyebrows and cracked her knuckles, hesitating before clearing her throat. "you probably won't believe me, but..."

"but what?" you wrapped your arms around your knees, bringing them closer so you could rest your chin on them.

the other girl sighed and stretched her legs out. "okay, wait. when did this start?"

"after i told her i was planning on switching dorms... wait."

that's right. chaewon had started acting strange the day after she barged into your room, but you had only started noticing two days after, coming home from the gym and needing something you had left in the bathroom.

(the shorter girl came out immediately after you knocked and requested for her to hurry it up. you were faced with a chaewon with her hair still dripping wet and a baby blue bathrobe wrapped around her torso, bringing an involuntary blush to your cheeks. to your surprise, she merely nodded at you and walked into her room without a word.)

"was she trying to make amends...? or convince me to stay?"

"you might want to ask her yourself, y/n."

and as if on cue, your phone buzzed several times in succession. blindly reaching for the device on top of the couch, you squinted through the bright wallpaper to see over 20 notifications from your roommate.

'31 missed calls and 50+ unread messages from kim chaewon.'

you frantically grabbed your keys and scrambled to your feet, ignoring the soreness in your muscles from the earlier dancing session. it was damn near midnight. kazuha stood up to open the door for you, and you thanked her and left in a rush.

you had to go home.

but by the time the adrenaline rush wore off and you'd let yourself into the dorm, your legs had given out and you passed out against the door.

falling, falling, falling.

there were cats falling with you, into the void. there was no start, and thus there was no end. you were only able to look up, seeing countless cats coming out of nowhere and not making a sound.

while you loved cats, there was no reason they should be falling into, well, nothing. then you saw a figure diving towards you with their hand out. you instinctively reached out for them, their face slowly getting clearer as they inched closer.

your hands met. they locked their fingers with yours, and slowly pulled you up with them. there seemed to have been a portal opened up at the "start".

the figure brought you to the portal, making the two of you float just below it. they leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, and flashed a smile.

and just for a moment, they donned the appearance of your darling roommate.

it smelled like coffee.

you didn't remember moving to the couch. your blanket was draped over you and the stupid pinkie pie plush was tucked in with you, and your muscles were extremely sore.

remnants of the night prior flashed in your mind, and you rubbed your eyes. what happened?

chaewon walked to the door, slipping her sneakers on and leaning over the couch to peek at you. not realizing you were awake, she jumped back with a yelp.

"i... i made you coffee and some pancakes for you. they're on the, um. counter. bye—"

you desperately stopped her by the wrist, half-kneeling on the couch. "thank you, can we talk? when you get back?"

the shorter girl had a look of uncertainty in her eyes, but ultimately nodded. the door shut quietly behind her, leaving you alone in the dorm.

reluctantly, you stepped off the couch to go check the breakfast she made you. the faint aroma of the sweets intensified as you got closer to the kitchen, bringing your mood down.

the plate was covered by a paper towel, and on top of it had a hello kitty themed sticky note.

"y/n,

i'm sorry for yesterday. i want to talk later, if that's ok. also, the butter is in the top left of the fridge and i left the maple syrup on the counter.

- chaewon"

you chuckled, releasing a breath you didn't know you were holding in.

this wasn't what you were expecting to wake up to.

you sat across from chaewon at the dining table, both of you waiting for the other to start. you had woken up just before noon, went to the one class that you had today and returned to the dorms after grabbing a few snacks from the convenience store. chaewon hadn't come home until around four, so you took it upon yourself to study in the meantime.

the jasmine tea that you poured for the two of you was steaming hot, releasing clouds of translucency up into the hanging ceiling light above.

"i'm—"

"so—"

you cleared your throat, gesturing towards your roommate as a sign for her to continue. she traced the rim of the ceramic and bit her lip.

"i'm sorry," she started, "i know my behavior as of recently is conflicting."

"it is," you frowned, "but continue."

chaewon lifted the teacup to her lips, sipping slowly. the clink of the coaster resounded throughout the entire dorm. "we've fought for as long as i remember. and we became roommates, and we fell into a routine. it's normal for us to be petty."

it was normal for you to be petty with chaewon. it was like breathing air, drinking water. no matter where you were, as long as she was there then you would hate each other to the ends of the earth.

"when you... suggested a change in that routine, i panicked. i didn't want to get rid of what was normal."

it was a more than a few months into the year. what you and chaewon had built was unmistakably a routine. one that was part of your everyday life, but one that you could not see yourself without. it didn't start at the beginning of the year, but on the day that you had beaten her in a race.

the look on her face was one you couldn't forget. eight-year-old chaewon looked close to tears before she ran away and stole your juicebox the next day. and it transformed into something else, and something more, and whatever was going on now.

you took a moment to appreciate the floral scent of the tea and sipped from your own cup. "i'm sorry too."

"even though it's kind of our brand, i shouldn't have blown up at you like that. i mean," you sighed, "you were going out of your way to be nice.

chaewon took another sip. meeting your eyes with a softened gaze. "so i guess this means truce?"

you smiled. "truce. but i am curious..."

"about what?"

"i know that wasn't the only reason you didn't want me to switch dorms. tell me the other reason."

the girl gulped, averting her eyes. her mind trailed back to a conversation she had just earlier, during a meal she had with sakura in between classes.

("well, she has a point. why don't you want to switch? you know i wouldn't mind, rooming with jennifer sucks," the older girl stated, lifting a few strands of ramen noodles with her chopsticks.

chaewon frowned, taking a bite of a small piece of karaage. she had finished her own bowl of ramen a few seconds ago. "you call her jennifer now? also, i don't know. i just feel bad for what i did, even though it was mutual. i didn't want to lose that familiarity."

"and?"

"and, it's because she's been a part of my life since forever, whether i like it or not."

sakura huffed, slurping up the last of her ramen and setting her chopsticks on top of the bowl. "uh huh. but that doesn't explain why you spent thirty minutes trying to carry her to the couch, brought the one blanket that you don't let anyone touch, not even me or eunchae when she comes over."

"and on top of that, you tucked her in with a my little pony plushie. and then proceeded to make breakfast and coffee for her, without making any for yourself. that's why you're making me pay for your ramen."

the younger girl was taken aback, rendered speechless. she knew what she did, but hearing it out of someone else's mouth was humbling.

the japanese crossed her legs and clasped her fingers together. "you know what you haven't realized, but almost everyone else has?"

"what?")

"i'm in love with you."

you yawned, taking a sip of coffee and stepping out from the kitchenette in your shared dorm with yunjin. the blonde was sitting on the couch with her notebook in hand, probably thinking of lyrics for her next song. after performing at a local festival, you and a few others urged her to continue her music career, and now she was taking the advice seriously.

she seemed to have noticed your presence, turning around and grinning. "hey. your girlfriend's waiting for you outside. are you going out again today?"

you coughed, "chaewon is not my girlfriend! and yeah, i'm taking her to that nice restaurant by the beach, the one that our team went to last time."

"she's not your girlfriend as of right now. how long are you going to make her wait?" yunjin stood up, walking you to the entryway and tossing you your keys, which you caught and tucked into the pocket of your basketball shorts. it was almost summer, only the beginning of june, but it was already impossibly hot.

checking your other pocket for your wallet, you slipped on your sneakers. "i don't know. maybe until the end of today. or maybe next month."

the taller girl sighed, glancing at you worriedly. "maybe you just need a day to reflect on yourself."

you reached for the doorknob. "maybe."

a/n : this is an apology for scrapping the other chaewon fic i had 😁 also crazy drops soon and the chorus has been stuck in my head??

[hannie-dul-set]

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING.

p — LEE JENO x female! reader. g — gang leader! jeno, actress! reader, humor, tension tension tension, jeno gets kidnapped by his celebrity crush, this is stupid, this is dumb, don't take this seriously. w — swearing, kidnapping, morally dubious characters HAHHAHA. 935 words.

note — happy birthday jeno. to the anon that sent the trope list curated for me, this is your fault. take responsibility. the prompt "accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss" suddenly terrorized my brain while i was studying. enjoy.

when lee jeno opens his eyes, a dull ringing in his ears, he sees nothing but the faint impression of a lightbulb burning through the sack covering his head. it’s dark. there’s an echo when he grunts and tries to move, but upon feeling the rope pressed against his wrists, the stiffness of his shoulders and the metal scratching of the chair against the rough ground— he’s quick to understand the situation he’s in.

the last thing he remembers, he was about to board a plane to japan. to spend a few months lying low after the particularly risky job his gang had to undertake not too long ago.

seems like someone managed to sniff him out before he could flee.

splash!

“wake up, you slimy son of a bitch.”

cold water hits, seeping into the fabric covering his face and crawling down to his collarbones. now, considering his line of work, jeno isn’t too fazed by this situation. he has a lot of enemies. maybe this one’s from a rival gang. could be a relative seeking revenge for a brother’s cracked skull, or some shit. doesn’t matter. he’s not gonna stay sitting for long anyway.

“did you really think you could cheat on me and run away scot free?”  

cheat? the sack gets thrown off from his head, a hand yanking a handful of his hair to pull his head back and he lets out a grunt. the chair is tipped back. jesus fucking christ, that felt personal. but when the sudden illumination stops blinding him, and he can finally see who the hell had the guts to jump and kidnap him, he’s a little taken aback.

jeno has a lot of enemies. the list goes on and on.

“use your fucking mouth, bast—”

but he’s pretty sure that the darling angel of south korea’s film industry isn’t on that list.

jeno watches as the vivid scorn and disgust in your eyes slowly meld into confusion, then realization, then a slow but sure descent into panic alongside the loosening of your grip.

“oh.”

must be the skills of an award winning actress. he feels almost a hint of disappointment when you stop pulling on the roots of his damp hair.

“oh, shit. one moment.”

clang! the chair he’s tied to settles once more into the ground with a clatter, and jeno watches as you quickly secure a distance between you and him, pulling your phone out of your sweats while biting the tips of your thumbnail. it’s a little funny seeing the nation’s sweetheart pacing back and forth all jittery in what looks like a basement— maybe your basement. as far as jeno can remember, you’re always casted for romance films. those feel-good, slice of lives and the pocari sweat commercial you once did echoes in the back of his head. but maybe you have a hidden knack for some thriller.

he starts fiddling with the ropes tied around his wrists right at the moment you screech into your phone. dispatch would have a field day if they see this.

“you got the wrong guy! my ex isn’t this hot!”

his fingers slip. his skin scratches the rough threads of the rope.

“i paid you useless fucks a shit ton of money to get the job done, but you can’t even get— ugh! nevermind. just go and bring me the actual son of a bitch i asked for this time.”

the knot is almost loose. this is quite the show. it’s better than all the movies he’s seen of you.

“what?! hello?! what do you mean you can’t help me anymore, what about our—”

drop. jeno gets up from the chair. he stretches his joints, neck cracking, watching as you sputter out a trove of profanities at your phone. his clothes are still damp from the water you splashed him earlier. maybe he should have a bit of fun first before leaving. it’s not everyday that you get to meet your celebrity crush.

“hey, dollface,” he calls out. you freeze. you look at him with the drop of a needle, eyes growing a little bit wider when you realize he should be sitting down. damn, they really need to cast you in a grittier film. “you should pay a bit more attention when you have someone hostage.”

a beat of silence. 

“uhm,” your voice croaks. jeno takes a step towards you. you take a step back. “listen, haha, there has been a misunderstanding.”

your steps stutter a little, moving back and back and you swallow nervously, looking at him with almost sheepishly— a sense of feigned bravery in the midst of retreat, teeth tugging on the skin of your lips. “oh, yeah?” he says, and you visibly rattle. you’re prettier like this than when you’re batting your eyes and flirting at the camera. you’re definitely prettier.

“yes, ahaha, there was a minor switch-up, you see i— i didn’t mean to...uh, escort you from the airport, i actually meant to target someone else, and— o–oh, and there’s a wall behind me. oops, haha. do you mind backing away a bit, um—”

“how about i help you with the ex boyfriend problem you have?”

the tables turn. it’s him digging his face up against yours this time, but the mention of your ex strikes a chord. you’re looking at him, gaze unbreaking. he can feel your shallow breaths on his skin.

“who are you exactly?”

“someone who can do the job better that the fuckers you sent me, definitely,” he chuckles. “how about it?”

he won’t ask for much. maybe just an autograph in return.

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.