#anyway. im not back yet. just wanted to pop in i suppose. had a bad mental health crash a few days ago n im still recovering lol

[radicalhighway]

man. sux to see ive actually radically dropped interest in pokemon. been meaning to replay violet for yonks now and i still have yet to even buy the dlc. used to be day 1 super excited go crazy go stupid over that shit but now its just smth neat i can put on the back shelf and interact w later. wild

[depresssant]

Shades of Cool

NEGLECTFUL!PLATONIC!YAN!batfam x GN!reader

synopsis : growing up with a shit mom and constant step-dads and mom's boyfriends, your view on life has grown pretty bleak. you just want to die, since it doesn't seem to get better than this. things can't get any worse, can they?

wsp guys. it's been pretty long, huh?... OK IM SORRY FOR NOT POSTING IT QUICKLY. here, damn 🙄. anyways, i hope yall enjoy n im glad u guys liked the first chapter. lets just hope this one lives up to yalls expectations 😭. follow me and repost this if u want a chapter three. also I NEED SOMEONE TO EDUCATE ME ABOUT SUNDAY FROM HSR BC I WANNA WRITE FICS ABOUT HIM SO BAD SO PLS SOMEONE EDUCATE ME N ALSO IF U KNOW LOVE AND DEEP SPACE??? PLS HIT ME UP AND EXPLAIN THIS LORE BC I WANNA WRITE YANDERE FICS FOR THEM SO BAD

“Why are balls called balls when testicles sounds hella fancier?”

At your friend’s bizarre question, the face of your other friend, Zarian, twinges in disgust. “Jayelene… why do you feel the need to put that out there?”

You huff in amusement, focusing on your pizza before what Jaylene says ruins your entire mood.

“I’m just saying! Testicles just seems more appropriate⏤the type of fancy shit drake and his family would say.”

Tim Drake Wayne…

Dinner with him and his freak-a-zoid family was like trying to make it past no-man’s land without any help to shield you from the straight up chilling vibes they gave off with their constant comments about bat facts. Bats. The atmosphere during the entire time you spent there was dreadful and quite literally heavy since Tim's youngest little brother wanted to sneak stares at you as if you wouldn’t notice his bug-looking eyes creeping into your soul.

Rich people really are weird, huh?

The Wayne family is nothing like how you expected them to be. They’re supposed to be cold, mysterious, and irresistibly enchanting, but all you’ve got are creepy vibes and a strong urge to stay away from them as much as possible. From the way Mr. Wayne made that weird comment about your father in the limo to how forcibly happy Richard or “Dick” was with you, you’ve come to an understanding that rich people are complete lunatics.

The Wayne family is full of a bunch of lunatics.

And you’re not afraid to voice that.

“There you go again,” Jaylene sighs when she notices the irritated expression on your face. “It’s never that serious, [Name]. You just hate everyone.”

“No, you don't get it! They were creepy as hell! Like… Like bats in dark caves coming at you all at once. They talk funny, they look funny⏤they act funny! What normal man name drops your mother’s name after knowing each other for about thirty minutes?”

Zarian huffs in amusement. “That’s the creepy part. How does Mr. Wayne know your name?”

“I dont know.” You run your fingers through your hair and lean back against the booth seat. “I don't want anything to do with them. Billionaire or not, how the hell does he know my mother’s name.”

It was perhaps towards the end of your stay at the Wayne’s manor for dinner, and you knew you had to go home, so you had largely hinted at leaving to Drake. Everything had gotten wrapped up, but when you were just about to leave, Mr. Wayne had told you, “make sure to tell [M/n] I said hi.”

You could only stare at him in shock as your body carried along, because how does a man as famous and wealthy as bruce wayne know your mother⏤your mother? He’s the chief executive officer of Wayne Enterprises yet mentions your mother?

That moment alone is enough to wave every red flag in your brain that screams at you, telling you something is up with these shady people. The only question is what? What can a billionaire possibly want from you? Out of everything the world has to offer, the most influential billionaire in America wants to target some meager high school kid?

What do these people want from you? Is it a rich people thing to play around with those below you? Well, you guess it probably is. Like, is Mr. Wayne gonna pop out with his soulless eyes and say, ‘you’re my long lost child?’ or something?

You still don’t know why you’re being a goat stuffed before slaughtering. These people want something from you, but you? You’ve got nothing to offer that they could want. Why the hell do they even bother? If there's one thing you really hate, it’s being left in the dark like this. Not knowing is terrifying. It's dangerous. Not knowing means not being prepared, and if you’re not prepared, you won’t make it out. Damn it, you should’ve booked it the moment Mr. Wayne mentioned your father in the limo. Movies and shows always display rich people as eccentric and psychopathic weirdos, and now you’re finally believing it.

Damn it.

You’re in danger. Okay.

Maybe that’s an exaggeration. But maybe it’s not.

You’ve watched enough true crime and have enough intuition and trust in your gut to know when something is wrong.

It’s not adding up.

You’re not dumb. You see all the warnings there, but what if you're exaggerating. What if this is just the nature of the Waynes, and you think you’re special enough to be noticed by them? Mr. Wayne is a damn billionaire! He’s got the money to do whatever he wants, so it’s only natural for him to do a background check on everybody that interacts with his sons, right?

It’s all in your head… It’s all in your head.

Sighing, you stare at the plate of food in front of you, appetite long gone. Still, you grab a fork and continue to eat as Zarian and Jaylene scream back and forth next to you. Drake, who had accompanied the three of you to the diner after practice, has left, thankfully. He left as soon as his food arrived while talking about some family emergency, and honestly, you’re pretty damn grateful for that.

Ever since dinner at his house, he’s surrounded you like a pillow smothering you, and you can’t do anything about it. He’s a billionaire’s son, for fuck’s sake.

It doesn’t take long for you and your friends to finish up, and you all part ways at the door of the diner before you clutch the straps of your backpack and walk around the city endlessly. This is a habit for you now⏤a way to put off going home as much as possible ever since you found out your mother’s boyfriend doesn’t come home until one or two in the morning.

That balding, ugly, sleazy piece of shit.

He’s as gross as every other man your mother’s brought home under the terribly veiled illusion that he’ll provide her a good life and treat her right. No matter how many times you try to tell that blind bitc… No. It's wrong. It’s not your mother’s fault.

But it sometimes feels like that, though.

Most mother’s destroy their own lives for their children, yet yours cannot even think about leaving the man that beats her child on a daily. Those types of mothers leave their spouses the second they see something wrong, while your mother treats those finger-print bruises around your neck like a necklace instead of abuse.

You’ve given up on her. You gave up on her back when you were eleven years old locked in a room with her boyfriend, and she didn’t listen. Or when you were twelve. Or thirteen. Or fourteen. Or fifteen. Or sixteen. Or seventeen. And now eighteen.

And each day feels like a repetition of the same. Wake up, go to school, practice, walk around, go home, get beat, and sleep like none of it all happens. It’s a routine you despise with every fiber of your being⏤makes you wanna jump over Gotham City Bridge before thinking about returning home because who would want to? Who wants this average life?

A life where you’re not happy enough, not sad enough. Not good enough, not bad enough. Not energized enough, not tired enough. You feel like a survivor of a plane crash floating on a raft at the center of the endless ocean with no way out. Everything just seems so vast, wide, and unreachable. How can you find the shore on a simple raft? How can you find a way out of inescapable misery if it’s not by drowning?

You’ve been waiting to find the shore, but it’s been a whole eighteen years since you’ve found yourself floating along the ocean.

That whole “it’ll get better” shit is a tragic lie.

Whatever.

It doesn’t matter⏤not anymore, at least. You’re going to get far away from this place and never look back. Never have to relieve this wretched city. Never have to be confined by chains again. You’ve only a few months left before you’re free.

Until then, you’ll have to be patient and go home because the sun has fully disappeared.

Nothing but satellites twinkle in the disgustingly polluted sky of Gotham City, and the streets have come to a staggering halt as you stroll about the sidewalks, trying to find the longest path to get home. One in the morning is always the perfect time in Gotham because it’s too late and too early to be outside, so it’s generally safe for a walk.

Of course, the universe likes to prove you wrong at every point.

The sound of a thud followed by a pained groan behind you has your legs locked and ready to run with your brain screaming alerts, but you take a deep breath and turn around. How bad can it get, anyways? The sight before you surprised you nonetheless. It’s… Nightwing, a Bludhaven hero, here in Gotham, just randomly popping up behind you?

With clear bleeding cuts and sprouting bruises across his body.

In the random alley you just happen to be in?

No. You’re looking into it too much.

His eyes lock onto and they make you freeze right then and there like he’s cast some spell upon you. But that’s for a cold, brief second before you’re hooking your thumbs under the straps of your backpacks and turning around hot on your heels, refusing to spare him a single second. 

You even hear him murmur a strained, “wait,” but you don't care. 

It’s rude, mean, cruel, and it’s also none of your business. All you simply do is walk ahead to your approaching doom with an pit of unease and bitter understanding of your helplessness in your stomach. You can already feel the soon-to-be new bruises blooming along your back.

You’re not a good person.

But, really, who is?

Smoking really does skill.

But now you know why people do it.

Each drag is more out of necessity than it is a choice ever since you’ve met your friend’s plug at the dumb age of sixteen, but it's a way to dull the harsh truth of reality. The world just fades into nothing but muted and mixed colors like the loud city underneath your balcony it blurs into a faint hum the longer you stare at the spiral puffs of smoke that disappear into the air. 

Everything’s bitter⏤the joint and you.

Really bitter at the blood semi-dried on your face and the dull ache along your back.

You’ve got about an hour and a half until you have to head out to school, so what other way is there to spend it than smoking away your brain? The joint’s a temporary escape, but it helps you stall whatever new feeling of despair you’ll feel for the day. Until you’re interrupted by your phone buzzing⏤the sound still a dull hum in your ears

“... Hello?”

“[Name]!”

Zarian’s voice?

“Where the hell are you? Hurry up and get to school or else you’re gonna get in trouble for not helping to set up the club fair, and coach will be on our ass! And don't forget to bring money for the tickets!”

Coach?... Club fair?... Club fair! Holy shit!

Your eyes shoot open, and you frantically scramble up, tossing the joint over the balcony railing before hectically staggering through the living room like a drunk man. Damn it, how could you be so clueless and forget such an important event? Especially one you need money for! Damn it⏤damnit! What do you do?

… Mom! She’s got a box of money somewhere in her closet, right? You’ve seen it before! It's just twenty dollars, and she wont notice. Okay… Okay. You’re quick to get ready. You wash away all the blood that’s dried on your face, brush your teeth, and change into baggy jeans and a clean shirt before storming into your mother’s bedroom and rummaging through her things. 

She’s off at work. Her bastard boyfriend doesn't come home until late at night, which means he’s probably already taken money for the day. Okay. That's fine. They won't notice.

But you can't find anything! What the hell? Where is that fucking box? You could’ve sworn it was there on the top shelf last night, but as you swipe your hands across everything on the shelf, you can’t find it. All of a sudden, something made of wood hits the top of your head and falls to the ground with a crack. You hiss, palm moving to cover where you got hit, but your eyes land on the box that now has money strewn all across the floor and a broken… false bottom?

What the fuck.

You pull away at the rest of the false bottom to only be met with countless photos of you as a child with your mother. Mom’s shit boyfriend had all the family photos taken down for some weird reason, so they’ve been here this entire time? All of these photos are full of you throughout every stage of your life, but some have different people in them as well. Their faces are either scratched out or they’re ripped out of the photo entirely.

From what you can gather, the figures are a man and what seems to be a teenage boy. The absurdity and even slight creepiness of the scratched out faces has you laughing, yet even with your now dulled senses, your eyes land on a photo you failed to notice earlier. Maybe you’re hallucinating. There must be something wrong with your brain. Or your eyes. The universe must be playing with you because is that a photo of you and a teenage-looking dick grayson?

Your eyes widen because it looks just like the strange man you had the unfortunate opportunity of having a conversation with during dinner with the Waynes. It’s him! More importantly, why the hell is he holding a ‘three year old’ you’s hand? You probably should be screaming. Yelling. Maybe panicking? But all you can do is shuffle through the rest of the box before your fingers graze against something metal that has your heart jumping.

It’s a small camera.

With a bat engraved on its side.

Ears ringing so loudly in your head you can't even think, you wipe your teary and red eyes hastily before grabbing a twenty dollar bill, putting everything except for the photo and camera in the box, set it back on the closet shelf, and hastily grab your backpack before making way to school.

The second you reach the damned place, you seek out your now three friends and drop into a seat with a heavy thud, sighing and meeting Tim's eyes with a burning gaze.

“You mean to tell me [Name] found the camera? And you decided to tell me after school?”

Time Drake Wayne sighs and runs his fingers through his black hair, shrugging apathetically while scrolling through every photo in his phone that he’s taken of you during the club fair. His brother, Richard, is pacing throughout his room anxiously as he rambles off about their latest fuckup. 

“Look, Bruce doesn't let any slip ups happen,” Tim murmurs in exasperation. “He wouldn't let this happen because [Name]’s mom and him talked this morning. Relax, he probably knows.”

It's not a lot, but it’s enough to calm Richard down. The man takes a deep breath but finds himself sitting down next to Tim, trying to get a good look at the pictures. “How mad was [Name]?”

“High, for starters, but clearly pissed off. Very observant, too.”

“Don’t tell anyone else. Not until Bruce gives us the okay.”

TAGLIST :

@ilovemyhusbandnanami (so real), @missikkj, @ferakillia, @darlinqvi, @soriansick, @sleepydhanie, @h0rr0r-10ver-69 (love ur blog aesthetic bae), @anuttellaa (OK WINX 😽), @feral-childs-word (love the pfp), @shycreatorreview, @friesandfixations, @stuff6969fuckyou, @babiebubsie, @jsprien213, @cattioo, @cherrydaisymanic (cheetah?leopard? printttt 😍), @00hellohello00, @princessloveweird, @amber-content, @idonthaveanameforthisacc, @f1lover4ever, @dreamsarenicer, @imaginarydreams, @solkara (love the calm aesthetic), @bobfood, @toast-on-dandelioms, @ijustfuckme, @cantfindmelol, @xx1shadow1xx, @azulawayne, @box-of-kinderjoy, @iamaunknownsecret, @missybabes, @phoenixgurl030, @couldeatthatgirlforlunch, @devils-blackrose, @arevvv, @freakthis, @yourhornysister, @kirahhhh, @perfectparadisegardener, @testishere, @spaceunicorn293, @vanilliona (love the pfpp), @uknowimdumb, @esposadomd, @dakotali, @lilyalone, @kore-of-the-underworld, @pix-stuff, @hellcatsworld, @chericia, @mspoisoncoil (love the bannnnerrr) , @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @cheeseburgercasserole (love the aesthetic), @twismare

so follow me n repost if u want part lll. and somebody pls explain hsr and love and deepspace lore to me. making a taglistttttt. if this post doesnt get as many likes as the first one, im deleting this series 😭. if u see a grammatical mistake, no u didnt 😃🔪

if anybody’s got requests about this series or in general, feel free to ask!!!

WAIT!! FOLLOW MY WATTPAD ACCOUNT : @depresssant. I JUS PUBLISHED A HISTORICAL YANDERE X READER STORY

[soggyriceee]

I don’t know if you did this yet but can you do when Konig give the reader aphrodisiac and see what it ends up fem reader please and thank you I been reading your page all day!<3❤️🫶🏽

take a bite | Konig

warnings: strong language, oral (f and m!recieving), unprotected p in v. desperate Konig

summary: request

"I do not like chocolate, maus." he scoffed, ignoring your hand reaching for him to take the chocolate piece.

you pouted, sitting back on the couch. your friends had brought up this special sex chocolate at a lunch you all had together. it intrigued you. not because the sex was bad. it was amazing. but your already amazing sex would turn into even better sex. and who doesn't want that?

"please. just a piece and thats it. I bought it special for us." you begged, waving it in his face. he looked away from the YouTube shorts on his phone and into your eyes. " maus. are you trying to give me an edible right now?" he asked bluntly, placing his phone down on the couch.

laughing, you shook your head. "no no I swear. I wouldn't just drug you jeez. but its special important chocolate. from my friends home country. she shipped some out and I wanna try it with you." you lied, fluttering your lashes.

for a moment he was silent, looking at the chocolate and then you. "if you drug me im calling the cops. seriously." he said, taking the chocolate out of your hand. "okay but dont take such a big- okay." before you could finish the sentence, Konig managed to snap a pretty decent sized chuck off and pop it in his mouth. you were sure that he wasn't supposed to take that big a piece. but, you wanted to see how this would play out.

"its okay.. tastes like regular chocolate. nothing is special about this." he shrugged, handing you back the chocolate bar. you're too stunned to really say anything, so mindlessly you watched him digest the entire thing and go back to his phone. "aftertaste is kinda gross." he randomly commented.

it was silent for about 10 minuets, Konig giggling at a video every now and then. you began to think it wasn't going to really work and of course, you got a bit sad and annoyed. just as you were about to give up, Konig put his phone down, adjusting his pants. " its.. hot." he said, looking over to you. you relaxed in the couch, nodding. "I-i'm fine... not too hot." you said.

his eyes scanned your body, stopping at your breasts. "you sure? you have a hoodie on.." he said, eyes moving back up to yours. okay, it was definitely working now. you blushed slightly, shifting on the couch. "I know but.. im just a bit cold." you said, looking away from his eyes.

immediately his boner caught your eye, it was practically standing straight up in his sweats. you didnt miss the wet spot where his tip, his pre cum leaking through his pants. "want me to warm you up?" he breathed out. his body moved closer to you, eyes still staring into yours. you swallowed, watching how he got closer. before you knew it, you were being pulled onto his lap.

he groaned, pressing himself onto your clothes cunt. "what did you do to me maus.." he breathed out, his hands already moving for the inside of your shorts. giggling, you pushed his hand away. " I didnt do anything.. im too tired anyways. can you wait for me to wake up from my nap?" you smiled, moving to get off his hips.

but he pulled you back, hand gripping your chin. " dont play with me right now.. you did something to me huh? tell me.” he demanded, taking his other hand down his pants, pulling his member out. his tip was a bright red, pre cum leaking out. he was throbbing. painfully.

you couldn’t help the small whimper that came from you, your eyes moving back up to his. “if you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was ask.” he mumbled, his hands now moving up your sweater. he immediately felt your lack of a bra, chuckling to himself. his fingered rolled your already hard nipples between his fingers, pinching and pulling the sensitive nubs gently.

“i-i didn’t think.. it was a-“ you were cut off by your own whimper when Konig slapped your nipple, a painfully good feeling. “don’t like to me libe.. i know you wanted this to happen. wanted me to get all worked up to the point I grow desperate for you, hmm?” he said softly, going back to playing with your nipples.

as much as you loved this, you needed more. you began to move your hips against his thigh, whimpering at the friction in your clit while his fingers kept playing with your nipples. and despite you thinking he’d stop you, hold your hips down, he began to bounce his leg instead.

“come on rub that pussy on me.” he whispered, pulling your hoodie up and off you. your hard nipples found their way into his warm mouth, his tongue tracing the shape of them. his teeth pulled them gently, only making your moans louder for him. your hands found his shoulders as you picked up the pace of your hips, your head falling back.

Konig kept bouncing his leg, praising you and telling you how beautiful you looked riding his thigh, occasionally grinding his hard on. “K-Konig i’m so close.” yoh whimpered, holding the back of his head while his mouth sucked on your nipples. He didn’t expect it, neither did you. but with those words, your nipple in his mouth and your pretty whimpers, Konig felt himself cum right then and there. it was new to him, cumming without being touched. he’s done it in wet dreams, woken up with his dick wet with his own cum. but never while he was awake had he done this.

it was that stupid chocolate. well, he couldn’t say stupid. he actually liked being this horny. “f-fuck.. please live cum on my thigh. want your cum stained on my pants please.” he begged, his hands finding your hips to move them faster, his leg bouncing to meet the pace.

your eyes saw the cum on the bottom of his shirt, his tip still leaking his cum. it was that sight alone that made your orgasm hit you, your body shaking on his. your head fell into his neck, crying out his name as he continued the abuse on your sensitive clit. “K-Konig please~” you cried out, trying to stop him from moving you. but he couldn’t.

his breathing was rapid, eyes on your face twisting with pleasure and pain. “one more libe.. please” he begged, picking up the pace of you hips. your hands found his chest, gripping his shirt as your second orgasm worked it’s way through your shuddering body. your head fell into his neck, eyes squeezed shut. it was embarrassing how fast your second orgasm came, honestly. but with his desperation it was like you ate a piece yourself.

you had barely any time to get over your orgasm before you were being shoved to the floor. “open.” was all he said before dipping his fingers in your mouth, pulling your jaw open. his dripping dick slid right in your mouth, his tip down your throat. you gagged at the sudden feeling, loosing your balance on the floor. groaning, his hand found your shoulder, pulling you to sit upright. his hips didn’t wait to move back and forth in your mouth, your saliva coating his member.

his head tilted back, mouth opening. “mhm.. fuck libe your mouth is so.. so warm.” he moaned, his other hand finding the back of your head. this allowed him to move his hips faster, your hands finding his knees to keep your balance. your watery eyes looked up to look at his pleasured face, realizing the chocolate made any touch to him sensitive.

you took that opportunity to take one hand up to his balls, massaging them. he hissed, body leaning forward. “g-god.. keep doing that.” he moaned, moving your head back and forth faster, his body hunched over you.

pre cum leaked out his tip, the salty taste coating your tongue. drool coated his length and balls, your hand as well. it was all too much for him and no matter how hard he tried to hold it back, he couldn’t stop his warm load coating your throat. he gave you no verbal warning either, his whimpers enough of a warning for you.

his toes curled beside you, pulling the carpet while his hands pressed you down on his length. “f-fuck..” he breathed out, his back slightly arching up as he shot the rest of his cum into your mouth. looking up at him, you slowly moved your head back and forth, hands gently palming his balls.

never had Konig really came that fast from head. he was very good at holding out, it was something you really liked about him. it allowed for you to finish before he did. but the chocolate was no help in his usual routine, the realization of that hitting him.

his eyes looked down at you, mouth stuffed with him. “i.. hate you and that stupid.. stupid chocolate.” he muttered, sliding himself out your mouth. and to his own surprise, he was semi hard. the sight of your saliva and his cum on his length made him grow harder, your eyes watching as his member lifted in your face.

smirking, you gripped the base of him, slapping it on your face. he groaned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “fuck.. come on libe don’t do that.” he whined, pulling your arm. he needed to be inside you. now. and your teasing made it incredibly hard for him to not shove you on the floor and pound into you.

you smiled up at him, pulling away from him. before you could even process what you wanted to say, you were being lifted onto the couch, stomach pressed flat on the back of the couch, knees spread on the cushions. his hand pressed on your back, pressing you into the couch more. behind you, he positioned his tip at your sloppy hole, rubbing it up and down.

“wanted to see how i’d be with the chocolate hm? didn’t think i fucked you well enough, hm?” he muttered, leaning down to your ear. his tongue slid down your neck, his lips sucking in your skin. you whimpered at the feeling, your eyes squeezing shut. “could handle what i gave you?” he teased, pressing his tip alone into you.

your hips tried to push back, take him all in. but his hips were much faster, pulling away from you. “no no no.. you don’t get to be desperate libe.. your going to be patient tonight. only fair for making me so desperate, hm?” he cooed, rubbing the curve of your ass.

despite how hot this was, Konig being desperate for you and all, it was quickly becoming into a bad thing. it was like all the sexual needs that Konig had, the desperation was all being transferred over to you. and that chocolate wasn’t worn off. not even close. his member pulsed as it rested against your ass, his hands trailing up and down your body. he was doing it on purpose. but as much as he wanted to tease you, he couldn’t wait too long before he was inside you.

your body jerked against the back of the couch, a silent scream coming from you as he shoved all of himself inside you. a breathy whimper came from the tall man behind you, his fingers pressing into your hips. your hands found the back of the couch, clutching onto it desperately. he didn’t waste any time sliding in and out of your cunt, and he was groaning with every thrust.

his hands found the bottom of your back, pushing it down. and as much as that angle did hurt in a way, you couldn’t help but whimper as he pounded into you. “f-fuck libe your so wet.” he whimpered, his head tilting back.

you managed to slam your hips back onto him, matching his pace. but unfortunately for you, that only made him move his hips quicker, not allowing you to keep up with him. “come on maus.. bounce back on me i know you can d..do it.” he teases, gripping a chunk of your ass in his palms.

he dragged your back and forth on his cock, his eyes rolling back. his balls slapped loudly against your clit, adding only more pleasure to you. “o-oh Koni~” you cried out, struggling to keep your own balance. his hand founds it’s way between your thighs, fingers dancing with your clit. “so s-swollen hm.. needed to be fucked so bad didn’t you?” he groaned, picking up his pace.

Konig felt himself twitch inside you once, then twice before he came for the third time that night. his legs shook, hands gripping onto your hips instead now to keep himself up. he hated how quickly this chocolate was making him come. a lot. but he loved how good it felt even more than he hated it. and you did too.

he slid out, watching his cum drop down your pussy to the couch below. he sat beside you, pulling you onto his lap. “ride me.” he demanded, positioning you above his still hard cock, pushing you down and giving you no time to prepare. your head fell into the crook of his neck as his hands worked your hips up and down his shaft.

“fuck that’s it.. take it.. oh take it libe.” he groaned, thrusting himself up into you, matching the pace he set for you. despite you being on top , you rarely ever did any actual work. Konig was always persistent on doing a lot of the work. it was the rare occasion you’d be the one taking control. and in those moments you did like it of course. but you liked being taken care of/used relentlessly even more.

“s-so good Koni.. i’m getting close.” yoh whimpered out, starting to move your hips for yourself now instead. he grunted in your ear, his right hand dinging it’s way to the nape of your neck, tugging the hair. “do it then.. cum on my cock.” he moaned, “i know you can do it.”

those words of encouragement were truly all you needed before you were creaming on him, clutching onto him while pathetic cries left your wet lips. but he didn’t stop. no. why would he? his hips continued to drill into you from beneath you, his eyes never leaving your face as it twisted into overstimulation. you were shocked by how much he was still going. how he still had so much momentum. but you weren’t complaining in the slightest.

“one more.. need one more.” he moaned, slowing his pace until he was stopped, sliding out and laying you on your back. “wanna see your face from here when you cum for me again.” he whispered.

at this point your legs were pure jello. Konigs too. you both only had this many rounds when either of you were gone for work for a while. but you went complaining of course. this IS what you wanted. and you were more than satisfied with the outcome.

his pace was anything but slow, his tip hitting right at your womb. tears couldn’t help but pool in your eyes, the pleasure becoming far too much to take. “k-koni it’s too.. too much.” you whined, your nails digging into his shoulders. he grunted above you, panting as his thrusts became deeper and faster. “take it, fucking.. take it.” he groaned, dipping his head into your neck, biting the skin.

you whimpered at the mixed feeling of pleasure and pain, your nails dragging down his back. “mhm.. mark me up libe.. fucking mark me.” he moaned, pulling away from you to look at the dark purple mark left on your skin. his hands took your thighs, pulling you closer to him and propping them on his shoulders. of course, this position allowed him to get deeper inside you, making your cries louder.

your pussy pulsed around him, his dick twitching inside you. his hands gripped your hips, moving faster in and out your dripping cunt. “so.. close. i cant.” yoh cried out, trying to take your legs from his shoulders. but as soon as you did so he pushed deep inside you, your body jerking up. another cry came from you, your legs shaking painfully.

“you can do it libe.. j-just come with me.” he moaned, his breathing picking up. he wasn’t gonna be able to hold it. not with how wet and tight you were around him. and it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. not in your eyes.

his hand found your clit, fingers rubbing on the swollen wet bundle of nerves with pure desperation. he needed one more time to feel you cum around him, then he’d be satisfied for the night. “i know you can do it just c-cum for me.” he said, looking down into your eyes.

you both held eye contact, watching each others orgasms build up. it was truly one of the more romantic things you and Konig did during sex. and you both ate it up every time. and it was always one of the many things that got you to finish around him.

before you could even get the words out, you felt your legs go numb and your vision go out as your cum shot out all over his dick and lower abdomen, tears falling from your face. “that’s it just like that.. such a g-good.. fucking.. girl.” he moaned, each word accompanied with a powerful thrust. you felt him twitch inside you moments before his hot cum shot inside you, his body shaking before collapsing on you.

you both didn’t know exactly how, or when it happened. but you woke up hours later in bed, Konigs arms wrapped tightly around you. you were assuming he had woken up and moved you both to the room, passing out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

you never left the bed that night. only staying on your phone, listening to his calm breathing and occasionally German mumbling.

[raainberry]

Stickers

« silly series - 5 »

Momo x gn!reader

Fluff

synopsis - who knows how you ended up getting stickers glued on the face by a pretty girl but you don’t complain

wordcount - 570

A/N - writer’s block has hands y’all im ngl💀 but i do have a couple things drafted up🤭 (spy!yeji but you didnt hear it from me)

“Stop making that face.”

“What face?”

“You keep scrunching your cheeks everytime I put one on, it messes it all up.”

“Oh because it’s supposed to be structured?” You asked, feeling the mess on your face.

Several stickers, all pink and white following the Barbie color theme she loved so much. You thought they were pimple patches, and you were foolish enough to ask about them, believing her when she told you they were.

You trusted her, as one would their girlfriend, so you let her on your lap, her makeup half-done as she took a break to cover your two pimples that had popped out overnight.

You found out they were regular stickers about two minutes later, when she couldn’t contain her laughter anymore. By then it was too late to get her to stop, she’d tasted how fun it was.

Her giggles kept leaving the sweetest smile on her face. If it weren’t for it, you’d have whined her out of your lap far long ago.

She seemed happy. The way her eyes never failed to smile along with her lips, you swore it was the most beautiful sight this world had to offer. What an honor to be the cause behind it.

So long as it was harmless, you were okay with whatever could bring her joy. Even getting stickers on your face that would definitely make you break out more.

The things you’d do for that woman.

“Yes it is structured.” She said as she focused on another sticker. “I’m trying not to overbear your cheeks.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way her lips mindlessly parted. You’d think she was dealing with something with much higher stakes.

She was so effortlessly endearing. Was she even aware of how easily she could make you weak?

“Why not? That should be the point. It’s like blush, no?” You argued, making her chuckle.

“That’s ridiculous. No, it’s not.”

“Why not?”

“It’s just stickers.” She answered, focused on yet another one she applied to your chin this time.

“Are you gonna be done any time soon?” You wondered.

As much as you loved Momo, your muscles were starting to strain from trying to hold still for so long.

“I am actually. Do you want to see?” She grinned, reaching for the pocket mirror in your hand.

You nodded, smiling back at her before the sight was replaced with your own self.

“What do you think?” She asked, and you couldn’t help but laugh in response.

“Momo, why?”

“What?” She whined despite joining in on your laughter.

“Just—Why?”

“I don’t know, you asked and then I saw you looked pretty so I just continued. You told me I could!”

“Oh, so I’m not pretty without them? Do I have to live with these on my face forever? Look at me!”

“I am! You look nice, I wanna kiss your cheeks so bad, but it’s going to mess it all up.” She pouted, running her thumb over the stickers ever so gently.

“I’d rather kiss your lips anyway.” You shrugged.

“Just say cheese.” She rolled her eyes, grabbing her phone to capture the memory she’d just half-forced on you.

You simply laughed, following her orders as you looked into the camera. She took a few pictures, different angles catching the love you shared and gave each other so happily.

The two of you looked awfully wholesome in all of them. Looking at them, you were almost jealous of yourself before remembering you’re the one she loves.

What an honor. Hopefully you’ll stick around each other for a long, long while.

[selkieioe]

read: playlists are super down below so keep scrolling!!

Our Life: Beginnings & Always.

Hello Hello! Welcome to my first ever post on tumblr that just had to be about my ultimate top tier favorite visual novel of all time..Our Life: Beginnings & Always or OL:BA for short.

This game has such a special place in my heart that im afraid I’ll forever be attached to it because at this point it’s not even a phase anymore lol. I still remember that heated summer day of scrolling down on my steam shop out of boredom and i kept getting recommended OL:BA but back then i really couldn’t care less and would not even spare a glance on it until i got so fed up of it popping up in my recommended for the next few days that i decided to finally check it out.

Reading what it was about made me curious but what really got me downloading it was because of the customization of our character/characters.

And finally into the game i was! I remember when the story started, i was very surprised already by the environment, narrative and world building of the game. It truly felt like i was part of it and i didn’t get bored at all. In fact right from the start i was hooked already!

I loved ALL of the characters that was introduced, i love the fact that it was SO multiple choice that it felt like you were really integrating yourself/oc onto the game and that you’re not just forced to say the same thing as a different choice or feel as though your options are limited. Its definitely a game that you’re supposed to replay over and over because its just that fun!!

And as someone who has never had a great childhood and adolescence, absentee parent, chaotic household, unsupportive friends, want to be understood (you know…this and that) i was so happy that this game was doing that and it genuinely gave me hope to live despite going through the darkest of times in my life :)

This game has changed me into a better person and made me want to be the best version of myself that i want to be in the future! I will infinitely recommend this to anyone who wants to have a feel good game/read (+1 it will make you cry!!)

Anyway enough yapping 💀 Time to get to the point.

Here are some playlists i made dedicated to the lovable characters of OL:BA that i personally listened to during my walkthrough and may relate to their route/lore ;)

read: playlists are super down below so keep scrolling!!

1# COVE HOLDEN

the og love interest!

summer with cove holden.

this playlist is the epitome vibes of the game (growing up with them and having fun, making memories.)

from beginnings to always with cove holden.

spoiler alert!! MARRIAGE DLC WOOOO!! really love this one cuz its all full of cute romance and wedding songs. i also put some songs that i think mc and cove would have when they get kids :3

#2 DEREK SUAREZ

MY PERSONAL FAVORITE!!

DEREK IS JUST SOOOO AAHHHH He’s my ideal man and i KIN him so bad you dont even know!!!

derek suarez crushing on you.

THIS PLAYLIST. IM TELLING YOU. one of the FAVES i made!! the pining, secret crush on mc for a loong time, the angst GOSH. so cute. every song in this plays a part on each moment with him i swear

#3 BAXTER WARD

ANGST MAN.

5 years after baxter ward.

one thing i noticed about our life is it lacks certain angst aspects when the baxter dlc didn’t exist YET back then. like i LOVED the fight between mc and cove in mcs room and i wanted it to escalate more ngl just cuz i LIVE for angst! but if you want to get real hurt you should choose baxter. this playlist focuses more on the last step of his dlc and its full of taylor swift songs.

baxter ward.

honestly this playlist is catered more to his vibes, his character (i listen to this playlist and i imagine edits of him lol) but i guess some songs are related to his story/lore? i made this waaay before 5 years after baxter ward and when the baxter dlc didn’t exist yet and we all just knew him to be as the new neighbor in sunset bird but people like it i guess so here it is xD

anyway thats all for OL:BA series! GB Patch is cooking up Our Life Now & Forever and it’s not released yet! just on demo on steam and itch! i already have a playlist for it but so far i have only made Qiu Lin (one of the leads of the game) i also have a privated filo inspired playlist for baxter if you want to listen to it let me know so i can put it up in public!

[the-wolfspider]

[Loading Video File.]

[Video File: Lab Recording O1.]

[Play? Y/N]

*Bowe is sitting at a desk fiddling with a measurment, and sighs.*

Hello. My name is Atticus Bowe-Lopez.

I have recently started therapy, and my therapist told me to make a journal. I hope that a video journal is suitable for him, cause I don’t like writing down my thoughts. Prefer it to be a spill of mush from my mouth for others to interpret.

*He clears his throat.*

Anyway. I reckon I can say anything in this thing cause only him and I are gonna see it.

So, to start off, He told me to answer some questions for him so that’s what I’m gonna do. It’s like having homework all over again.

Ahem

*Thered the sounds of paper rustling before he pops back up in frame.*

Alright. He wrote them down for me, so.

Question 1: What is your greatest fear?

Cheesy. Alright. I’d say my greatest fear is hurting the people I care about. I reckon that’s due to me having done it before and it’s a pattern I fear to repeat over and over. I’m trying to change for the better and yet I still fail. But I’m hoping that if I actually work myself out. That I won’t. That I’ll be able to control myself better. That I’ll be a good husband, I’ll be a good father, a good friend, and not be a jackass like I have recently.

Question 2: if you’ve done something terrible in the past, do you think you should be forgiven?

Okay Damn right from general question and right into stabbing me.

Short answer is No. I don’t think I should be forgiven.

I don’t think I should be forgiven for what I’ve said or what I’ve done in the past few days. I feel like I did stupid shit, terrible acts and yet I didn’t get punished.

Where are the consequences? Is there not supposed to be something to punish me for nearly killing my husband? For running off? For doing a stupid mission that led me nowhere?

…I think I made myself retire now as a punishment. As a way to keep myself from flying off the handle. …Maybe I can limit my Goober capabilities too…I’ll have to ask Lyla..at some point…if she’ll talk to me.

Question 3: Is there anything on your mind you want to talk about our next session?

I mean yeah. I’ve got shit loads. At the moment I’m worried about my situation with Duende. With Lindsey. With Miguel. With Mer. With Everyone.

Im worried about the choices I’m making.

If I’m in the wrong ship.

If I’m going to end up hurting others again cause I’m insisting that I can help.

But everytime I help I screw something up it seems.

…but Im also thinking about Lyla…

We had such a good friendship…but I think she hates me now…and that’s one of my worst fears.

Having an Ai despise me when she knows so much about me.

She’s been missing ever since she encountered duende and I’m terrified of what’s going to happen next. Out of all people she would be the one to be able to deliver a heart wrenching punishment to me…

I cared so much for her that it made me forget she’s one of the things that scare me the most, Especially with her access to so much information about me, my past, and everyone I care for. That if I get on her bad side that she could easily tear me down…god I hope it doesn’t come back to that.

Please let her just be in Maintenance…please I don’t need her to have been planning a way to get me out of here. To get Duende out. I don’t think I could handle that.

I—

*A flame flickers out in the background before flaring up in a huge puff]

SHIT—

[The video Ends there]

[godmerlin]

pic stories?

hahaha ok you asked for this (i'm a rambler)

the first pic basically, i had been SO NERVOUS. I had already go to a photo op with sebastian that also had chris in it with my friend. and i accidentally IGNORED sebastian lmao i think it's because i knew it was my only chance with chris...but i still feel bad because i was supposed to ask them for a fun picture with my friend because she was too shy to ask herself and when we got in there i basically short circuited and it was all my all to ask chris for a hug BUT ANYWAY that's another story....

I got in to see Sebastian and I was like HI! IT'S SO NICE TO MEET YOU! really loud and he laughed and said it was nice to meet me, and then I just blurted out can I have a hug? cuz i was so nervous. and sebastian was like, of course and i just dove in and he was like laughing and was like "Let's cuddle hug" I was like what the hell is cuddle hugging? LMao and he was like this! and then we did what was in the first picture and at the end i was like Ok then Mr. Weirdo with the cuddle hugs and he laughed at me then they were all rarr you gotta leave so iwas like BYE! and left. that's it. went by super fast.

Now the 2nd pic? The 2nd pic was a core memory moment.

I walked in (was less nervous than the other time) and I was like Hiiiii! and he was all smiley and said Hi back. Then I literally was like "can we like, look at each other?" (i'm still embarrassed by that line so i remember it clear as day.) and he laughed and was like absolutely...grabbed my hand and spun us around and he like embraced me and i was like shit ok *grabs onto him* I DIDN'T EXPECT THAT PICTURE POSITION AT ALL. I just expected to like LOOK at him. I remember thinking I wanted to see his face because I didn't get the chance to see his face the other time...He decided on that pose. I definitely wouldn't have had the guts to ask him for it lmao still can't believe it happened. ANYWAY...what happens next? THe photographer's camera starts acting up! SO. IM just there Holding on to seb and staring into his eyes...I eventually started to move my hands on him (so embarrassing) and you can actually see it in the picture because my finger is up in the air because im NUTS. LISTEN! we were in that pose for AT LEAST 2 entire minutes. my brain stopped functioning. the photographer is like JUST ONE MORE MINUTE YOU GUYS and Im like what the hell is happening and slowly but surelysebastian just starts breaking out laughing and then I did too and im pretty sure it's because i accidentally said out loud that his eyes were mesmerizing. BUT eventually the picture DOES get taken and we are both trying hard to kee a straight face for it (and failing) and as soon as the picture was taken we just burst out laughing ontop of one another. we literally were like hugging and laughing and sebastian was like "well that was a special moment" and i wa slike "Special ain't the half of it" and then he started laughing again. and the people were like OK YOU GOTTA GO NOW and I wa slike ok! BYE but he grabbed my hand and pulled me back into him and was hugging me and laughing and i wa slike they said i have to go HAHA and he was like I heard them they can give us a minute! and I'm like oh god ok and then finally he let me go and instead of turning around and walking like a normal person I walked backwards. He got laughing again. ANd walked back over to me and then he spun me around and started to massage my back/shoulders???? I then began to freak out internally. HE GIVES REALLY GOOD MASSAGES YOU GUYS. BUT thye were yelling at us that i had to go i was holding up the line etc. and Im like OK! and I walked away slowlyand then I FORGOT MY BAG IN THE STUPID BIN THEY MADE ME PUT IT IN...and had to pop back in and be like sorry i forgot my bag and he hadn't gotten to the (very nice) girl behind me yet and started laughng and he came over to me and was like "we have to stop meeting like this" and I just burst out laughing (my initial reaction to anything is to laugh) and he started laughing again and then he gave me another hug and security literally brought my bag to me and said I HAD to go so im like OK OK IM SORRY IM LEAVING. and he was like "It was so nice to share this moment with you, thank you for coming" and i was like THANK YOU FOR BEING YOU byeeeee! and that was it.

Long winded because that's how i am. I APOLOGIZE. but it's still a moment i can't believe actually happened in my life!!!!

[onesourceofbadinformation]

i saw peter pan goes wrong and it was one of the best nights of my life and here is everything that is different from the bbc recording/some stuff i want to remember/make note of

the preshow bits were so fun. i couldn’t see it all bc i was in the mezzanine but:

jonathan was going around chatting with people. chris came up and took him backstage, but he kept popping back out to talk

at one point both trevor and jonathan were climbing over the front rows. unclear why

trevor was drinking a beer

you could see max and dennis and sandra poking their heads around from the stage. max kept waving

robert was onstage trying to get the lights to work. they were doing something with a cable—they had the audience involved in feeding the cable back through the audience. again, couldn’t really see due to being in the mezzanine

one of the backstage people (actor, not for real) (im pretty sure she played annie in one of the broadway runs of the play that goes wrong!) was going around asking people if they had found a hammer. she made me check under my seat :) eventually she found it and lifted it up onstage to show everyone. everyone cheered for her :) then she pretended like she was going to throw it into the audience. good bit queen

at one point neil patrick harris was visible on the stage behind jonathan and jonathan seemed to think the cheers and applause were for him. good bit. in general i think the show is perfectly cast but greg tannahill is really a revelation. so perfectly charming yet smug

ok preshow bit over.

chris was even more sopping wet and pathetic than in the bbc version. he slipped on a puddle of “medicine.” he stabbed himself in the leg with scissors. he strangled himself with his own tie. he drank hand sanitizer

he was forced to drink hand sanitizer when he was [AGE AMBIGUOUS]

(cecco was supposed to hand hook a spyglass, rum, and a pistol. he handed him a rolled-up map, a bottle of hand sanitizer, and a program of “six” that nph tore into the shape of a gun—a “six-shooter.”)

a couple people in the front row came in late and chris stopped what he was doing to stare at them disapprovingly for a full ten seconds

later, when we booed him, chris called out the people in the front row, saying “don’t boo me, latecomers!”

instead of “pantomime”, the running joke was “family show”, and we just booed captain hook instead of “oh no it isn’t”/ “oh yes it is.” we did do “he’s behind you” though. and somebody did “do you need a hand.” i kind of do wish americans had the cultural context of pantomimes so we could do more of a call and response. also i think chris bean saying “oh yes it is” with increasing frustration is very funny. YES IT IS. OF COURSE IT IS. anyway it was still really fun to boo him

robert was the one who said it was a family show. “look how many children there are in the audience! child. child. ugly child”

chris bean, later, during the poison scene: “don’t boo me! robert was right, you are an ugly child!”

there was a whole undersea scene in the lagoon involving black lights and fluorescent fish and mermaids and such! typical goes wrong jokes (mermaid loses its head, jellyfish legs get tangled, fish fuse together to look like a dick and balls)

speaking of mermaids: max and dennis came out in mermaid costumes involving roller blades. matthew cavendish appears to be a pretty talented roller blader

i liked matthew cavendish’s performance as max! different then dave hearn but not in a bad way! there were no “snap snaps” but i actually prefer that, because it feels like a dave hearn thing. this guy was doing his own max, who was a little less of a ham and more a guy who is just having a silly time. i think dave’s max is a little smarter than matthew’s. dave’s max knows he’s fucking with chris—matthew’s max does not. i like them both.

when jonathan fell, a giant banner of “jack and the bean” (starring robert) also fell down, and chris yelled “intermission”

later, during the stage revolve bit, we see a banner of “rapunzel” featuring sandra’s ill-timed haircut

robert did the mr. bumble bit. hilarious bit of robert lore.

nph said something like “i fear that thing and the ways it may hurt me” re: the chair. he also climbed into it through the hole in the back. good chair bits. him being knocked unconscious during the final scene was just excellent. man fucking flew through the air

during annie’s electrocution, he “stalled” by (poorly) playing “being alive” on the recorder

during the poison scene chris had a little girl in the second row open the poison bottle and then said “you poisoned peter pan.” then annie pointed at the little girl later when jonathan asked who would do such a thing

robert’s “audition tapes” were played throughout during the sound cue errors. my favorite was his “uptight englishman” audition tape, which was basically “eughhhh im chris bean and i get to be the director AND the captain and i have thin reptilian hands” (at which point lucy reached out to feel his hands). also they played a bunch as we walked out. apparently robert has over 1000 audition tapes

during chris’ pan pipe “take one” recording, he called out something like “mother, have you seen my pan pipes instruction manual?” i just like the chris bean parents lore. raymond bean—racist?

trevor getting hit by the plank and hanging lifelessly was even funnier in person

when the boat was rocking back and forth chris got fucking LAUNCHED

when they made lucy “walk the plank”, she got absolutely hurled out of her wheelchair and trevor ran out to catch her. national hero. she clung to him like a koala. it was really cute. the audience cheered for him #trevorsweep

on the pirate ship, after “dennis you’re wearing the wrong costume”, dennis delivered an entire fight between a married couple. carl and jerry i think their names were? but i heard “she” at one point so maybe it was a “gerri” situation. one of them walked out. some lines i can remember (im probably misquoting, but this is the gist) “i’ve wasted years of my life with these people” “if you walk out, you’re not just walking out from this company, but from this marriage” “our marriage is a sham! you know it, i know it, even the kids know it” (to dennis) “hey little buddy. how you doing? i’ll be taking over. let’s take it from: aye, captain hook”

the final revolve bit was INCREDIBLE. i didn’t know where to look. when the stage started spinning faster and more out of control! sandra getting hit by the door twice! robert on fire again! the pirate pile-up!

by the time the stage stopped spinning, chris bean was just despondently lying on the top bunk. absolutely fantastic.

i feel really sad that this is probably the only time i will ever see the original mischief cast in…anything, since i don’t live in europe. i also feel really lucky that i got to see the original mischief cast!!! it was amazing! i was smiling the entire time! i kept having moments of “oh god this is really happening”

i tried to get my program signed but i was too far back in the crowd. Sad! but i did see chris leask, henry shields, greg tannahill, and matthew cavendish.

overheard at the stage door: a child asking his mother, “which is the guy whose pants fell down?” chris leask and greg tannahill were out. both of them had a pants incident. brilliant show 10/10 now THIS is theatre

harry kershaw as francis. you are my white whale. you know what they say you know what they say…put your trousers in the cabinet </3

i got this t shirt. i will treasure it forever and always.

[acaciapines]

it feels like in your fics, daemon settling is presented as a bad thing! can I ask where that is coming from, and what settling means there if it's not about adolescence?

dklfngnkdfgdf i was wondering when someone would ask me this.

the answer is that it depends on the story im trying to tell, and it just so happens that the one im currently writing (toh daemon au) and to a lesser extent the one im posting (pmmm daemon au) have themes in their original shows that just so happen to best support this reading of daemons! like, if you read some of my other stuff, ex the wolf 359 daemon au, its nothing like this lol, my daemon lore does not carry across unrelated fics.

the best way i can describe it is through the unposted owl house daemon au so apologies in advance. also spoiler warning for the fic series. it doesnt exist yet but a lot of this stuff is things we learn throughout the series.

essentially, though, when i am writing a daemon au, there is always some particular aspect of the original media that i think i could explore in depth by adding daemons! in wolf 359 it was this idea of personhood, and so that is what i focused on when adapting my daemon lore in those fics. in toh, its this idea of growing up and being forced to choose things.

if you look at luz, in toh, her story is very much about this idea of like. in a lot of isekai stories the protagonist goes home at the end, yknow? this is what is supposed to happen, they learn something in this new world, and then go home changed, but they GO HOME. but the whole thing with luz is that like--the human world wasnt ever her home, not really. the only person she had there was her mom. but in the boiling isles, now, THAT is a home for her!

but...shes supposed to go back to the human realm. shes not supposed to stay. and so a lot of her arc, to me (and what i choose to focus on in my au) is this idea of what you are 'supposed' to do (ie what society says is acceptable) and what actually makes you happy, and is the life you want to live. in the show, this accumulates in luz's palisman (daemon equivalent, basically) not just being one animal, but being a snake that can shift into a whole lot of other animals--it is this way of showing that like. luz never had to choose. to force her to choose is something about society that is sorta fucked up. its this idea that we act like kids are able to figure out their entire future, that you make a choice and that determines your life forever. but like...no? you can change! thats AMAZING, that people are able to change!

and so to tell that story daemon settling has to be about something you are forced into too young. that to act like a 14 year old can figure out their entire future and never have the possibility to change later down the line and make another choice and figure out something new is...bad, actually? life doesnt end when youre young!

or something like that lol i always always believe i will say what im trying to say better in the actual text of the story itself vs trying to write it all out like that.

and to be fair a lot of this also comes from the fact that all of my daemon aus are in conversation with typical daemon aus that pop up in fandoms, and also to an extent daemons as they are seen in his dark materials, because i have A Lot Of Feelings about it, and a lot of daemon aus are just...not about daemons. and i like telling stories ABOUT daemons, not just stories where the characters happen to have an animal companion sometimes. and this is especially true of the owl house daemon au bc the entire way im building up the human world and how it works is um. um its just stuff i think sucks in most daemon aus/hdm and why i think that.

anyways. tl;dr: daemons are about whatever the core of the story i want to tell is and it just so happens in the stuff im writing right now daemon settling being a negative fits that core.

you (general) can always send me more specific followups about this too! i am literally always down to talk about daemons and daemon aus bc This Is My Thing i have decided and i love love love talking about it.

[seaah]

omg diwali this year

(spoiler alert: SUPER LONG POST!! read if you have the time)

in case you didn't know, I celebrate diwali, which is a Hindu festival where you light diyas (oil lamps), make rangolis (patterns with colorful powder outside your house) and burst firecrackers! (which many don't do due to the pollution of it, but I still do :P) the backstory of which is a long story so if ya wanna know more bout it just ask me :)  

ANYWAYS this years diwali in particular was super exhausting :’D it was on sunday, and i woke up at fudging 6 AM because my father wanted to take us (my sis and I) on a mountain climb -.- to be fair, it did have steps. But it was SO tiring!! Im not a morning person, so climbing 670 steps up a mountain at 8 AM was definitely not the best way to start of my day >:(

when we got back down through the pathway back to our parking spot, we were ofc SUPER hungry, and there was a lil snack shack near where we parked, so we went to get some food. There were pictures of burgers on a chart hanging from the shack, so we asked for some, but they only served grilled chicken. now, I’m NOT vegetarian or vegan, but on diwali, you’re only supposed to eat vegetarian food. so we just got some cup noodles. but MAN i coulda killed for a chicken burger :(

we got back in the car, and went to buy some shoes, because my father INSISTS that we jog every morning at 6:30 AM, EVEN THOUGH we exercise every evening, and we need jogging shoes for it. again, NOT a morning person, so this is awful :( but if there’s one thing you gotta know my father, is that he’s stubborn as FUDGE so i just hafta do it -.- anyways, we get the shoes, and on the way back i hit my head on a sign. instead of asking if i was okay my father yells at me for being an incompetent person and points out every flaw about me -.- i hear this all the time but it still hurts each time :(

we go back home and by the time we reach its 2 PM. i was like “FUDGE” because we had guests coming over at 12, so we’re like two hours late! but luckily, they’re not here yet, so we have time to get ready :D

like i said, we literally went up a mountain so we just rested for half an hour. Idk what my sis did but i read lackadaisy. Anyways its 2:30 PM and my sis went for a shower. and not 5 MINS later, the guests show up. I mean, we are close with these people, and their son is a great friend of ours, so of course i was happy, but i hadn’t even showered yet TwT anyways, i play uno with this guy while my sis showers and at 3 she’s ready, so i go to shampoo my hair. i ‘m done by 3:30 PM tryna pull myself together and then i find out they’re all done eating TwT so i just eat by myself (my mom makes KILLER veg biriyani so its not like the food was bad or anything)

when i’m done, the three of us are assigned to make a rangoli (two actually, i'll explain) since we moved last year and the front space of our new flat isn’t too big, our friend and my sis make the main rangoli INSIDE our house, while i made essentially a mini rangoli outside our flat BY MYSELF WITH NO HELP. it was really exhausting but i managed to finish it by 6 PM which was my mothers given deadline (the reason no one else helped was because my mother genuinely did the most work out of us and the rest of the adults were sleeping -.-) so after we’re done, my sis and i wear our ghagras (traditional dress) and basically get ready for the upcoming PHOTOSHOOT (my mother LOVES taking photos and usually takes multiple so this is how i like to term it) when we’re done, we perform the puja (another tradition of diwali) and then we go outside to burst the firecrackers! all by 7 PM B)

we didn’t have as many crackers as last year so it only lasted about an hour, but it was sooooo much fun! there were SO many people outside also bursting crackers, and it was really cool to see! I lit “bomb” like crackers for the first time this year, while also lighting crackers like sparklers, rockets, flower pots, pili crackers, pop-pops, and others too! Legitimately so much fun :D but i couldn’t help thinking about last year, where i got to celebrate with many of my friends, and celebrations lasting well into 9:30 PM. laughing and joking while lighting crackers is the main reason why this holiday remains my favourite, nothing can top that. still had a good time regardless :)

we’re done by 8 PM and we head home. we play games like uno and astro party with our friend again till dinnertime (same thing as lunch, along with vadas and subji) another uncle also had come along while we were bursting firecrackers and gifted us a box of cream buns (which, btw, were SUPER DELISH and made me really fancy XD) we enjoy some more till its 10 PM and our friend’s gotta go :( we say goodbye to them and go back home (its common to go outside with guests to see them off) we change into nightclothes and IMMEDIATELY start using our devices till 11:30 PM XD GOD did i need that tho. then we brush our teeth and go to bed at 12 AM (dw, i woke up at like 8 AM the next day so i got sufficient sleep :>)

and that was my diwali! Despite all the stress, i enjoyed very much and continues to be my no 1 holiday :D i hope ya’ll enjoyed reading and maybe even learned a lil something about different cultures along the way :) thx for reading, and have a nice day/night! love ya’ll <3

[poppy-metal]

Demure

Wc: 4k

Pairing: eren jaeger x reader

Cw: car sex, fingering, emphasis on reader being innocent and a virgin. reader is armins little sister. corruption kink

you're 6 years old when you first meet eren jaeger. apparently he'd run off some people that were bullying you big brother, armin. you admire him and mikasa immediately.

you're 8 and he's 11 when you get a scrape on your knee from playing tag. eren runs into your mothers bathroom to fish out the first aid-kit, you know he just doesn't want you to tattle, you never would anyway, but he pulls out a pink band-aid with little ariels all over it and places it gently over the cut. he stays there for a few beats, soothing the skin around the hurt area with his thumbs. his big bright green eyes look up at you, "better?" and that's the first time your heart skips for a boy.

you're 11 and he's 14 when armin starts becoming protective. "he's had like. 5 girlfriends in middle school, who knows what he's gonna be like in high-school"

it intrigue you, for some reason.

you're 13 and he's 16 when he taps furiously on your window at night, wild eyed and wearing a t-shirt and sweats. he falls ungracefully on his ass when you let him in, though he grins at you from the floor. "thanks, squirt"

you wince at the nickname, knowing it solidifies you as someone only platonic to him. armins little sister and nothing more. "what's this all about?"

he gets up and swipes imaginary dust off his sweats, looking around your room. its absurdly girly. he picks up one of your plushies and tosses it up, then catches it, peering over at you and grinning. "i hope you never change," he sighs and flops down onto your pink sheets. "girls my age are fucking psychos"

you creep closer to him, snatching your plush back. "im sure there's something you're leaving out there. im not completely dumb, you know"

he waves his hand, "yeah but you're....i don't know? innocent or whatever. you don't care about shit like boys and drama"

i do care about boys, you think, watching the way his shirt rides up to expose a hint of tan skin. you look away, squeezing your plush to your chest. "im gonna grow up eventually, ren"

he sighs and sits up, looking at you from under his ridiculously cute floppy brown hair. "Just promise me you won't go boy crazy"

you roll your eyes and sit down next to him, he leans in and licks a broad stripe against your cheek with his tongue, grinning "we have cooties"

you swat at him and wipe your cheek, groaning and calling him gross. "i know that. you and armin never let me forget how gross boys are", you side eye him. "what did you even do? really?"

he looks to the side, only now having it in him to look the least bit sheepish, "my girlfriend may have caught me with my hand down historias skirt..."

"EREN JAEGER!!!"

yeah, boys really are gross. but not eren, no he's beautiful and magical and makes you feel all the fluttery things. but he's also a player, a bad boy, dangerous and completely off limits. maybe your crush should have ended there, but of course it didn't.

You're 15 when you go on your first date with a boy. until now you haven’t allowed yourself to even think about men outside of the enigma that is eren jaeger, but that’s a lost cause, a stupid crush you need to let go of. and despite what eren thinks, you’re not that innocent. not in your head anyway. you’re a girl and you have fantasies. 

the guy is nice, armin likes him enough. big and tall and humble, reiner brought you flowers for your first date. the age difference is a little weird, he’s in erens grade, a senior, but you think its harmless. you’re turning 16 soon. the date goes well, you smile and giggle alot, and reiner seems smitten by the end of it. he even goes as far as to kiss your hand when he drops you back off at home, at 8pm sharp, just like he promised. he was kind and sweet, and you liked him, but you wonder what it means that there were no flutters in your belly, not like when you’re around him…

you’re still thinking about that when you open the door, and walk inside. the house is quiet, and you wonder where armin is, and eren. thinking they both must be in armins room, you go to the kitchen to get a glass of water, stopping on your path there when you see eren on the couch. he’s lounging back, hand idly wrapped around a gaming controller as he watches you.

you glance around him. “where’s mimmin?”

he doesn’t take his eyes off you. “annie called”, he leans forward a little, propping his chin in his palm as he observes you quietly for a moment.

you squirm in place, his eyes are too hot. “oh” and you make to start moving again but his voice stops you. 

“so. braun, huh?” his tone is hard to discern, the words coming out cool and detached, but his eyes are that intense green. 

“yeah” you say, shifting on your feet. “he was nice. kissed my hand and everything”

“sounds like a dream” and that is definitely said sarcastically. you bristle but eren is already turning away from you, facing the TV. “didn’t think he was your type though” 

because erens been your type since forever, you guess he’s right. reiner couldn’t be more different in both personality and looks, but maybe that’s a good thing. “maybe he can be” you say softly, looking at your feet. you dont see erens eyebrows jump, or his lips twist disdainfully. 

“If you wanna settle for missionary the rest of your life, then sure, go ahead” he sounds a little miffed and that confuses you. makes you look up. you don’t even know reiner that well, but you feel the need to defend him from erens usual snarky jabs. 

“not every guy that doesn’t live on Xbox and fuck half the school is a bland guy” you huff. you feel a little guilty for calling him out but he started it. eren hated preps, that was obvious, but its not like he was a model person either, if his long track record of promiscuity was anything to go by. reiner wasnt boring he just…..wasn’t eren. but that wasn’t a flaw. It shouldn’t be. 

“you been keeping tabs on me, princess?” eren asks wryly, smirking now. you just glare at him, quirking a brow and daring him to prove you wrong, to say he’s better. 

he doesn’t. he just looks at you, sets his controller down and does that tick he’d developed since he was young of jiggling his knee, tapping his finger on it. “don’t go on more dates with him” 

you squint your eyes, “and why not?”

“because i said so” 

“you’re not my boss” 

“because..” he scratches the stubble on his jaw, gaze looking far off as he stares at his bouncing leg. “guys shouldn't touch you” 

your mouth pops open. you get that, right now, you’re too young for stuff like sex, but being touched? everyone your age had boyfriends, why should you be any different?

It feels a bit like deja vu when you tell him, “m’not staying innocent forever. dating and s-sex are apart of life. you do it, why shouldn’t i?” 

you didn’t really get his whole overprotective bit, armin, who was your brother, wasn’t even this bad. he’d seen happy almost, when you told him about your date with reiner, even, so you really don’t see where eren is coming from. 

erens lip curls in a smirk and he points a finger at you. “that’s why” he says. “you can’t even say the word sex without stuttering. what’ll you do when you see a cock for the first time?” 

your skin heats, hating that he’s right. “I’ll grow out of it” you promise him. 

he huffs a laugh. “sure thing, dork” but then his face gets serious. “you don’t need to change though. sex is lame, i promise.” 

“you seem to have alot of it, so there must be something good about it” 

“for me, yeah” he grins. “but im selfish. most men are, and you deserve better than some highschool tumble with a guy who looks like he can’t find the clit to save his life” his eyes weigh you down. “just keep bein’ you. If i come back from college and hear that you’re the towns tramp stamp, m’ not gonna be happy” 

and that’s that. 

you’re 16 when eren leaves for college. you get to 18 without ever being touched. 

you’re 18 and you wish you hadn’t begged armin to let you come to this stupid bomfire party. it’s just the first time he’s been home in the 2 years since he’d left for college, and you know that means eren is back too, though you have yet to see him. he’s supposed to be at the party though.

you wonder if he’ll react to having seen you after not for awhile, if he’ll look at you different now that you’re grown. you’re wearing a simple pleated white skirt and a pink top, the picture of innocence you’ve always been, never changing. 

being around so many people makes you uncomfortable, you want to cling to armins side, but you don’t want to be annoying so you tell him its okay to leave you. your eyes scan the mass of people on the crowded beach as you nervously hold your solo cup to your chest. 

your eyes stop their nervous skittering when they land on someone familiar. 

college eren is completely different and yet wholly the same since you’d last seen him. he’s wearing a red bomber jacket, over a black t-shirt and skinny jeans, scuffed converse kicking in the sand as he shifts from one foot to the other. you peep tan skin, a hint of a tattoo peeking on his neck and….and black hair. he’d dyed his hair, and, is that jewelry on his ear? rings on his hand?

he’s smiling easily with a pretty blonde and...and reiner. talking to them like old friends as he tilts his head back and laughs, taking a swig from his cup. he’s still chuckling and shaking his head when his eyes flick distractedly over, rove over you and then stop. even from all the way where you are the green of his eyes pins you in place. the warm glow of the bonfire dances across his features, and you see the bastard has a lip ring as well. he takes his time cataloging you and you do him, before his lips tilt, he hands off his drink and he makes his way over to you. 

your whole body is tense with nerves as he gets closer and closer.

when he’s standing in front of you, the smell of his cologne wafts over you. his smile is small and genuine. “hey, pip” 

pip as in short for pipsqueak. you have to fight the urge to grin at him, your cheeks warming pleasantly, even though you groan out loud. “m’ not little anymore” 

“I can see that” eren eyes rake over you, linger on your bare legs before dragging slowly back up. his eyes feel like a caress and when they meet yours again, you’re already tingly. you’ve never been touched sexually, and just one look from eren has you wet between the legs like nothing. “still dress like you wanna be an extra in a Bratz commercial” 

the tension disputes as you swat his arm. “shut up!! Its a fashion choice, not like you’d know. dressed like a wannabe rockstar” 

“aw, c’mon. you’d be my groupie right?” 

you roll your eyes. “you wish, jaeger”

“mm” he hums softly. “s’cute though. always has been” 

before you can even register the compliment, he’s leaning forward to peek into your cup, swiping it easily from you. “underage drinking, are we? left you for a couple years and you go rebel barbie on me” 

you squawk as he chugs all of your drink back in one gulp, crushing the cup in his fist and tossing it behind him. “ren! I wasn’t even drinking it. It was..” you wave your hand around. “for the aesthetic”

“uh huh” he drones, but then he jerks his chin. “i’ll get you another one to stand around and look pretty with then. C’mon”

cute, pretty. the compliments are gonna make your heart fly out of your chest if he doesn’t let up. you follow him as he leads you to a keg, one that’s a little ways away from the bustle of the party, close to the parking lot where you came in. 

you shyly say ‘thank you’ when he fills you a cup and hands it to you, proceeding to lean back against a car as he goes back to observing you.

to distract yourself you mumble, “you can’t just lean on a strangers car for the sake of being cool” 

the grin is back. “you think im cool?” when you glare at him he rolls his eyes and slaps the hood of the car. “she’s mine, pip. you can untwist your panties” 

you blink at him, “since when did you get a new car? and when did you dye your hair?” 

he looks at you curiously, drumming his fingers. “do you not, like. follow me on instagram?”

you look away, kicking your feet in the sand. hesitantly you admit, “didn’t wanna miss you, so i didn’t look” 

he doesn’t say anything to that. the silence stretches between you, making you nervous. should you not have said that? you guessed it was weird, after all, but it was true. If you’d looked at how erens life was progressing without you there to see it, you’d have cried and been a total lovesick girl about it. 

he finally breaks the silence. “do you have a boyfriend?” 

you look back at him. “uh...no? do you?”

the smirk you wanted ghosts over his lips again, and your eyes are drawn to his lip ring when he tugs it between his teeth. “nah, you know me. unattainable” 

“yeah, i know” you say under your breath, thinking of how eren jaeger had been an unattainable fantasy for you for years. 

“so no current boyfriend or…?” 

“no boyfriends...ever” its embarrassing to admit, but less humiliating than admitting that the reason that was is because you’re in love with your brothers best friend, the very man standing before you now. 

“that’s kinda tragic, pip” eren hops up on the hood of his car and fishes a cigarette out of his pocket. he waves a hand at you, “you’re rockin’ a bod like that and no one’s bagged you? thought you’d be beating down options with a bat by now” 

you watch the smoke that plumes in the air, the way it coils and wisps, and really look at eren. he’s tragically beautiful. his no black hair is boyishly messy, tangled around his head in a dark halo. his face is sharp and tan, his eyes striking and making you feel like you’re sinking into the sand beneath your feet.

you’ve wanted him for so long, it makes you ache. years and years of pushing away men and declining confessions for this man in front of you. you’d never expected anything from him, but you couldn’t move past the fantasy in your head. couldn’t imagine giving any of your firsts to anyone but eren. 

“you told me to stay innocent” its out before you can stop the words, they just fumble out, spilling from your lips and into the air like the smoke.

eren stills, pauses from where he’d been about to take another drag. his expression is unreadable. he flicks the ashes from the cig on the sand, stumps it out under his foot as he hops down. the wind ruffles his dark hair as he just looks and looks and looks at you. 

“yeah?” and oh, jesus, if the rough gravel in his voice doesn’t make your cunt warm immediately. “and you listened?” 

you squeeze your thighs together, an action that draws erens gaze between your legs. to late to back down now, you think, and wet your lips. “y-yeah. I did” 

“you didn’t let any boys touch you while i was gone?” eren continues and he draws closer, creeping towards you.

you shake your head, silent as he comes in front of you. he reaches up to delicately push a strand of hair behind you ear with one of his ring fingers. he keeps it tucked behind your ear as he towers over you, staring you down. “you’re still my innocent little girl, huh?” 

you wonder if this is how it feels to be seduced, seduced by eren jaeger no less. his eyes are warm, and they make you feel warm from where the rest on your eyes, and then, your lips. they part under his gaze, on instinct. “I am, ren. always have been” 

his eyes darken, and the finger behind your ear becomes his whole hand sliding to cup the back of your head, slowly fisitng your hair in it. “shit” he tilts your head up. “you can’t say things like that, baby”

baby, baby, baby. your head swims. you’re on autopilot now, speaking without thinking and you think that’s good because if you were thinking clearly you wouldn't have the courage. “i’ve always been your good girl. no one elses” 

you have one second to hear his exhale before his lips are crashing against yours, and oh. oh, he’s good. you feel the metal of his lip ring against your bottom lip as he slides his tongue in your mouth, eating you up.

“god, you’re sweet” he nips your lip. “knew you would be”

you pant into his mouth, your hands curling on his chest, “y-you’ve thought about me?”

“‘course i did, im not blind” he pulls away. “I just really like my dick and didn’t want it chopped off. armin is scary” 

you know he can be when he wants to be, knows if he saw eren ravishing his little sister against his car right now, body parts would be strewn about. and that’s just from armins verbal warfare.

you look at eren demurely from under your lashes, “i don’t want anything to happen to your…” you trail off at the end.

erens eyebrows climb up his forehead, he presses close to you, tugs you to him. “my…” he prods, eyes glinting with mischief. 

you look away, pouting. “know i can’t say it” you mumble, hating that even now, saying vulgar words is embarrassing for you.

erens chest shakes with a laugh. “you just sucked my tongue down your throat, pip, and you can’t talk about my cock? you’re precious, c’mere.” he starts walking backwards, towards his car. “we gotta be sneaky about it but-” he dips down to kiss you again, once, twice. “i really wanna touch you” 

you gulp, and nod, let him pull you to his car and open the backseat for you, climbing in after you. he shuts and locks it behind him and then he’s facing you, eren jaeger giving you his full attention. looking at you like he wants you, like he’s seeing you, like he wants to do alot of bad things to you.

you place a shaking hand on his shoulder. “im- i dont know what to do..”

you want to impress him, but pretending you’re good at something you’re not won’t do that. eren doesn’t like liars anyway. 

he scoots close to you, pulling you halfway onto his lap until you’re sitting comfortably against him. you bite your lip when you feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against your ass under your skirt. one of his hands settles on your bare thigh, scooting it up just barely.

“you ever watch porn, sweetheart?” erens breath puffs against your ear and you squirm on top of him. 

you push down your own embarrassment, resigning yourself to be a big girl and be honest. “s-sometimes” 

“yeah?” god, why does just that word turn you on so much? “tell me what kind of stuff you watch when you touch your little pussy” 

his vulgar words go straight to your cunt, at the same time his hand slides up your thighs and slips under your skirt. you close your eyes when you feel the tip of his finger trace over the band of your panties. “they’re always a couple..” you gasp when his hand dips inside, palm cupping over your pussy. “a-and the guy has dark hair..”

“Imagining anyone in particular?” eren teases, but you hear his breath catch at the same time yours does when he sinks one long finger inside. the folds around your slit part seamlessly around the intrusion, sucking his finger in like your pussy wants it there. “so wet, baby. keep talking for me?”

ever the good girl, you push through the tingles and the heat spreading down your legs, the slick sound of his finger fucking in and out of you filling the silent car as you struggle to find words. “s-shes always inexperienced. Its her first time and...and hes gentle” you moan a little when erens thumb comes to swirl around your clit, hips lips finding your neck. he’s teasing another finger at your tight entrance when you swallow another groan and try to keep talking like he’d asked. “he’s gentle but he takes. t-takes what he wants”

“mm” eren hums, tongue sliding against your skin. you gasp when the tip of his ring finger edges in beside the other one, stretching your tight passage around his digits in thorough little twists of his fingers. “that’s real good, baby. you like the sound of that, huh?” 

eren hooks his chin over your shoulder, bunches your skirt around your waist so he can see where your little pussy is clenching and squeezing around him, clit engorged and throbbing for attention. when you don’t answer, he continues, using the slick dripping down your slit, gathering it and then pushing back into you. “I bet” he says, low, husky. “In those videos, he eats her out real nice, yeah? makes sure her little virgin cunt is wet enough to take his cock”

“y-yeah” you pant, holding his wrist but not pulling it away, pushing him more towards you. you’re starting to grind down against the pleasure, walls rhythmically fluttering around his fingers, fucking yourself on them without even knowing it. he curls them, and your head thumps back against his shoulder as you cry out. 

“i’ll give that to you” eren promises, pumping his fingers faster, his other hand coming up to cup one of your tits over your blouse, giving it a squeeze. “gonna take you home after you cream around my fingers and lay you out on your bed” he kisses your cheek, holding you firm against him when you start to twitch and writhe. “lick this little flower open. wanna feel your thighs squeeze my face when i drink the cum from your pussy, get you all loose and wet and then i wanna feel you drip down my dick when i slide it inside”

“oh god, ren!” you jerk in his hold as you feel your orgasm crest over you, gushing down his palm, as you ride his hand, milking it as tingles shoot across your whole body. A milky, creamy film rests around his knuckles when he slides his fingers out of your weeping cunt, still pulsating and twitching from the come down. 

he rubs the excess slick around your folds and clit, rubbing it in. you whimper and he chuckles and kisses your cheek. 

you sag against him, fucked out. eren brushes some hair from your forehead and kisses it. “wannabe punk pounds sweet virgin pussy into her bed” 

you look at him, confused and dazed “huh?”

eren grins at you. “s’ gonna be the name of our porno” 

[aphrodict]

“gifts”

cw - mean scara becomes soft as always ugh ari stop writing him as a soft sappy mfsr👎👎, implied that childe n reader are really close friends idk why i had to include that

genre - fluff!!

pairing - scara x gn!reader

a/n - had so much fun writing this‼️ new challenge count how many times ari writes scara as a soft person, anyway hope u guys like it as well hehe, jus a lil post so u can wait for my matchups to be posted again <33 wc: 0.8k

your lover had been busy with his work in the fatui again. he had barely been sleeping or even taking care of himself. worried, you decided to visit him in his office with a few gifts. you prepared only the best of the best, his favorite food and inazuman specialties in small bento boxes, a bouquet of some flowers from all around teyvat that the traveler helped you pick, and of course— a note saying you two will be going on a date later that night!

as you walked over to the headquarters of the fatui, you heard many agents who are probably under the scaramouche’s care, let out a sigh of relief. you know that you’re the only one able to change his mood for the entire day, no, maybe even week. lost in your thoughts and without you noticing, another harbinger popped up right behind and scared you. “guess who!“ the male said in a sing-song voice. you faked an annoyed groan and turned towards him with a smile

“childe, did you need something?”

“no not really. i was going to ask if you needed help with, those”

he said, pointing to the gifts you were bringing for a special someone

“im fine! he’d probably get mad if he saw you hanging out with me again” you chuckle, remembering the last time how scara got so mad with you just having a friendly conversation with childe

“of course, ill never forget that time. do you know how LONG i had to listen to him scold me? talk about a jealous person”

childe let out a short laugh, patting you on the back

“goodluck! he’s been in a bad mood all week, try not to do anything risky”

“ill keep that in mind— oh and make sure to take care of yourself too, i don't want to babysit the two of you again.”

childe waved goodbye as you continue to walk over to the 6th harbinger’s office. the walk felt long yet short at the same time. the hall was dimly lit, and his office was just at the corner. taking a deep breath outside the door, you knocked softly, waiting for a go-signal

“the door’s open”

while entering the room a smile reached your face again, and you were certain there was one on scara’s face as well, though it was quickly replaced with one of annoyance. kicking the door behind you and quickly running to his desk, mumbling a hi and taking out the food first. at the same time, scara slowly took off his hat and placed it on the side

“you really didn't have to do that. im perfectly fine with feeding myself.”

“i know i know, but i noticed you weren't even eating much at home. so i took it upon myself to take care of you” you put one on the desk where he does his work, handing him over a colored dango. you heard his ‘tsk’ but took the food from your hand anyway

scara wouldn't say it, but he felt instantly better after eating.

“this is” he paused, taking another bite of the dango “—really good. where’d you buy it?” his eyes slightly widened. the more innocent side of him being shown

you pouted as if he insulted you. “i made it myself. well not entirely, i asked a few friends for help making the food and picking up the flowers while you were away”

“i see” he sighed and looked at you, the end of his lips slightly curling to a smile.

“thanks alot, really”

you chuckle, smiling as well. you’re happy to help him in any way, he is your lover after all.

“sure! anytime”

for a few minutes, all you could feel was a comfortable silence. right before the harbinger looked over to the bouquet of flowers you were supposed to give him

“those are for..?”

“you of course! you wanna know how i got them? whenever the traveler sees me, she just gives me a flower from whatever place they're from. you know, i was thinking of saving this for next time, but its better now or never” quickly handing them over to him

scara is.. not used to affection, at all. he was hardly given such words and actions as a puppet, so having you by his side— spoiling him with all these new feelings, maybe it wasn't so bad

he makes a mental note to apologize whenever he snaps at you again, you really don't deserve those words coming from him. maybe repay you back with a kiss as well

@aphrodicts-imagination : masterlist

[angry-geese]

After Hours - Chapter 1: Understaffed

Tags: strip club au, bartender!reader

Pairings: [sukuna x reader], toji x reader, nanami x reader, shoko x reader, gojo & geto x reader, choso x reader

Warnings: blood and injury, bar fights, swearing lol. canon typical violence (technically?). mention of alcohol use. overall sfw

Synopsis: Should some cruel higher power—a god or whatnot—decide to make your life any more miserable, it wouldn't take all that much effort. Between the cafe you worked at having to close down, and your (ex) boyfriend deciding things weren't working out and leaving you to fend for yourself in a city you weren't familiar with, you were beginning to think things couldn't get any worse.

a/n: this chapter is basically just an introduction and entirely plot based so there's no smut yet lol. heavy focus on sukuna in this chapter, however the other chapters will focus more on the rest of the cast

[since i have another longer project im currently working on, there is not a set schedule this series will update on, however i will generally post on here updates about new chapters :)]

Wc: 3.2k

prev - next

Masterlist

Should some cruel higher power—a god or whatnot—decide they want to make your life any more miserable, it wouldn't take much effort. Between the cafe you were working at shutting down, and your (ex) boyfriend deciding things weren't working out and leaving you to fend for yourself in a city you hardly know anything about—let alone have contacts in—you were beginning to think things couldn't possibly get worse. But you should know by now not to tempt fate by saying that, because things can always get worse.

The cafe shutting down came as a complete surprise. As far as appearances went, business seemed good. The owner—an elderly man by the name of Niwata—made enough money to put both of his children through college, and afford for his wife to retire early. But new businesses moved into the neighborhood, eventually pushing out the smaller mom-and-pop owned shops. The building, which was already quite old when this shop first opened up, began running down, and with no money left over to fix it up, it remained that way. Yet throughout all of this, Mr. Niwata never let it slip that something was amiss. Even as medical bills for himself and his wife piled up, he was always tight-lipped when it came to the matters of money. And you never questioned it, as you were never given a reason to.

You're not sure what the breaking point was. Some of your coworkers must have sensed something was up, and fled to more stable work. Yet you remained, as the tips were good, and pay covered your rent. City living isn't cheap after all. Not wanting to face the uncertainty of finding new work, nor having to move back in with your parents, you figured you would weather things out.

Mr. Niwata would stay behind and count the registers, and you would sweep; that’s how most shifts ended. Normally such a task doesn't take you all that long, but you liked chatting with him. He became the closest thing to a friend you had after you were stranded in this city. At the end of each of your shifts, he made sure you would make it to the train station on time. And any leftover pastries that you wanted were yours, as they’d just go bad anyway.

He broke down one day, as you were finishing your closing duties. That morning he seemed sick. But with his already ongoing health issues, you hadn't thought much of it.

You stood with a broom in hand, looming over a stack of clean dishes that needed to be put away. Closing took longer than usual. There was a group of students that showed up right before you were supposed to close, and Mr. Niwata couldn't turn them away.

From the register, he collected a mix of bills. All together it made a little under ten thousand yen. You stopped sweeping long enough to shoot him a confused look.

"The shop’s closing," he said, "I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you sooner, but this business with your boyfriend- I don't want to make excuses. I should have told you sooner. But I wanted to spare you any more bad news."

"You're going out of business?"

"Not necessarily. I've got an offer to buy the shop. It's enough to pay for my retirement, and hopefully give you enough cash to get back on your feet," he held the cash from the register out to you, "here. Take this. Count it as your tips for the day."

"I can't take your money."

"Didn't they teach you not to argue with someone older than you?" He asked. He tried to feign some kind of sternness, but he couldn't quite seem to commit to it. “And besides, it's the least I can do. They're coming by the shop in the morning, so don't leave anything behind tonight."

You accept the wad of bills, and stuff them in the front of your apron.

“I'll have your last paycheck by Friday,” he said. “If you want to stop by here to pick it up. Or, I could drop it off at your apartment. Do you need a ride home?"

Having only lived in Tokyo for three months at the time, and doing so entirely with your boyfriend (ex, you guess you can say that now), losing your job was devastating. Between a messy breakup, and draining your savings just trying to survive, you weren't sure what to do with your life. Moving back in with your parents wasn't an option, and you haven't spent much time out and about in Tokyo to make many friends. Appreciating the city wasn't something you could truly do until you had broken up. And now that you're no longer together, you don't have the money to do much exploring.

You're tired of this place, and all the people in it. Of making the mistake of dating a man who’d just dump you off in this place. Of being left to fend for yourself. 

For you, adult life was one disappointment after another. Everyone made the city out to seem like this amazing thing, but really, it's nothing special. Cities are, well, cities. They're practically all the same. You came to Tokyo because things were supposed to be different. Life here was supposed to be better than that out in the country. But really, it felt like you were shoved from one forest, into a completely new one.

And then came the Herculean task of finding another job in a city that was seemingly hiring no one. You’ve applied to just about every place on this side of tokyo. Everyone is either not hiring, doesn't pay enough to cover your rent, or demanding something well out of your skillset.

Did you want to apply at various clubs in a shady neighborhood in Tokyo? No. Do you have much of a choice? Also no. 

You're desperate, and tired of eating pre-packaged ramen. 

Your experience at the cafe, combined with a past job as a bartender, leaves you with the skills necessary for this kind of work.

The offer didn't seem too good to be true. It was quite the opposite. You would be working an entry bartending position (graveyard shift—graveyard shift isn't ideal, although you’re not too against it), and you got paid lunches and breaks. The full-time position even offered paid vacation time. The pay wasn't anything amazing, but any tips you would earn would make up for that.

The owner himself seemed a bit standoffish over the phone. That alone should have been a reason for you to turn back, and apply somewhere else. But this offer wasn't outwardly suspicious, and desperate times call for desperate measures. While not a glamorous position by any means, it was simply survival.

So you applied. And within the same day, you were called in to do an interview.

You've heard rumors about the owner—who hasn't? Ryomen Sukuna, a man rumored to be an ex-yakuza. The tattoos are a dead giveaway. Plenty of people have them, sure. It's becoming more and more accepted to have them. But generally, especially with the younger people that get them, they're not so visible. How he managed to leave his previous line of work is up for debate. Some say he took out an entire enemy hideout in a night. But you know real life is nothing like a video game, and that such a feat is unlikely. 

Still, you’re faced with an undeniable nervousness as you cross the street towards the bar, purse under one shoulder, umbrella under the other. The news called for rain this morning. Steeling yourself, you fish your tube of lipstick out of your purse, applying some. The repetitive, familiar action does help calm you down a bit.

The interview itself should be simple enough. Look pretty, show you can make a few drinks, and have decent people skills. All three things you can manage.

The bar is nestled between a run-down laundromat, and what used to be a plumbing supply store. It's certainly an interesting neighborhood. This building looks like it could have had apartments in it at one point, but you doubt they get much use anymore. The front windows are dark, and the only thing signaling that this place is open, is a neon sign out front.

You must have come early, as the music is off, and the overhead lights are on. The room smells faintly of lemon floor cleaner, cologne, and cigarettes.

Ryomen Sukuna is far more terrifying in person. He’s sitting at the bar, elbows resting on it, chatting idly with a blonde man. That you're certain of. You can deal with assholes over the phone—that’s a talent of yours—and you like to think you can hold your own in a conversation, but even you have your limits. The man is quite possibly huge. He’s nearly a foot taller than you—hell, probably more than that, the man is huge—with tattoos running up both of his arms. Even sat down he’s eye to eye with you. The top few buttons of his shirt are undone, and what looks to be another tattoo crests out from under it. Expensive cologne is practically dripping off of him.

"You called me in for an interview earlier," you say, and introduce yourself, holding your hand out for him to shake it.

When he stands, you feel yourself dwarfed by this Adonis of a man. He looks you up and down. Part of you wishes to shrink back under his gaze, but you restrain yourself from doing so.

“You’re not our… typical demographic, but that doesn't mean you can't work.” He says, pinching a lock of your hair between his fingers. It takes everything within you to not slap him there and then. "You look… different enough that I think you could pull it off. Your people skills do need some work though,

"Changing rooms are over there. Showers are on the second floor. So are the lockers, if you need to store your things during your shift,

"So, some ground rules: theft and fighting won't be tolerated. I catch you fighting someone in my club and I'm throwing your ass out on the street myself. You get caught messing with another dancer's belongings and it's the same thing. Tips aren't pooled. Be sure to gather the money off the floor after each set or it's up for grabs by anyone—customer or not.”

"What?"

"Your audition," he says, tapping his foot expectancy.

“I'm uh- applying to be a bartender,” you say.

It's as if a switch has been flipped. His expression softens considerably. Sukuna sucks in a breath, saying a soft “shit”, before standing, and motioning for you. “Cmon,” he says, “we’ll conduct your interview over here."

He leads you to an adjacent room, one that is far better lit than the previous. Sukuna asks you a few questions, ones along the lines of “have you ever been convicted of a felony?” and other basic things about your past jobs. Whether or not he’s impressed, you can't tell; his expression remains the same throughout the entire interview.

"As you may have guessed, we're a bit short handed when it comes to bartenders." He says. "Shoko can only work so much overtime. And Nanami—that blonde guy behind the counter over there—has been filling in where he can, but with his knee injury, there's only so much standing a day he can do,

"Generally you're not going to be serving anything more complicated than shots. But still, occasionally other things will be ordered." Sukuna continues. "VIP rooms typically order by the bottle. As I'm sure you've noticed, vodka is down there, and the champagne is in that cabinet. So are the glasses. Usually whoever is working in the private room will bring the booze, so don't worry about that,

"And I know you're not dumb enough to do this, but I have to tell it to every new hire: don't drink during your shift. If a customer is hounding you to take a shot with them, there's a Grey Goose bottle filled with water right by the glasses. And if the customer is real pushy, get either me, or Toji—that guy over there. You see the one with the scar? We'll sort him out real quick."

"What's the pay look like?" You ask.

"You get paid by the hour, plus you're part of a tip pool between the other two bartenders." He then proceeds to list a number that'll pay your rent at least twice over. "Closing shift gets paid slightly better because it's busier. Tips are better too. Harder work, really."

"And I'm just bartending," you ask, "you're not going to have me do anything else?"

"You may be asked to do some janitorial work, but that's pretty much it,

"Toji and I are technically security. Again, if a customer is ever giving you more trouble than you can handle, come to one of us.”

From his front pocket, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes. Menthols.

"I've read over your resume—and I'm interested. Would you be able to work a training shift tonight? You'll be helping me run the bar for a few hours since Shoko's out." He says. "Thursdays are pretty slow, so don't worry about there being a bunch of customers. Since you've had bartending experience in the past, I don't think a full training shift is necessary, but there's still certain things to go over."

"That depends—how late do you need me to stay?" You ask.

"I'll pay you for a 5pm to 10pm shift." He says. "Technically it's short enough that you don't get a lunch, but I'll let you keep any tips you make tonight."

Shady. At least you're getting paid.

At the very least, you figure if you hate the job enough, you'll call him tomorrow and tell him you're not fit for the position.

“I’ll do it.” You say.

You swear you see the corners of his lips twitch. A look of relief briefly flashes across his face.

The next three hours of the night are rather uneventful. You don't have to do a whole lot other than sit and look pretty, but not as pretty as the dancers. Though, you’re getting paid by the hour, so you suppose there's not a whole lot to complain about. About halfway through your shift, Sukuna gets a call. He disappears into the back, leaving you alone out front. Though things are pretty slow, so there's not a whole lot for you to do. Occasionally people will come by and ask for shots. Tequila usually. You’re not sure where all the chasers are, though.

"How are you settling in?" He asks. Sukuna's voice comes from somewhere behind you.

"Pretty good," you say, "it's taking me a bit to figure out where everything is though—where are the limes?"

Sukuna whips his head around, before sighing, and saying, "I think I forgot to bring them out this morning. I'll get them from the back. Hold tight."

His fingers brush against your lower back as he steps away. He's hardly gone for a minute before the next customer comes in. A man steps up to the bar, absolutely reeking of booze. He asks for a rum and coke. Simple enough. You go a little light on the rum, seeing as he’s shitfaced already.

He appears a bit agitated, and is pacing, but you chalk that up to the alcohol. Booze makes some people just a bit… weird. You greet him with your best customer service voice, cheerily asking what you can get for him. What draws your attention is the set of keys he pulls from his pocket.

“Did you drive here?” You ask. “I can call you a cab.”

He ignores you.

“Hey, I can't let you drive home in this state,” you say. “I'll call a cab. I’ll cover it. Just let me know when you're-”

The man lunges forward, seizing you by the shirt collar. Your nails leave little red stripes down the side of his cheek. And it's as if a switch has been flipped. He goes from mad, to furious. 

The music switches off—a short break between sets—leaving the bar  uncharacteristically quiet. You gain enough leverage to pry yourself free, seeking refuge behind the bar.

Sukuna grabs a glass from the counter, swinging it into the back of the man’s head. The cup shatters on impact, spraying glass shards across the bar. Tiny shards litter the ground, glinting in the dim light much like glitter. He falls flat on his face, and it sounds like he’s snoring. The cut on his temple is hardly visible, but it bleeds. Badly. 

Is he… dead?

"Sukuna!" You're too shocked to shout anything other than his name.

The expression on his face is unreadable, but you don't have to be a genius to know that he’s pissed. Sukuna grabs the smaller, unconscious man by the shirt, dragging him towards the exit.

“You. Outside. Now.” He says, motioning to you.

The contents of your stomach seem to turn to cement. You’re certain you’re now a few shades paler. The cool air feels nice against your burning face. 

Sukuna drags the man out the door, leaving him face down between two dumpsters. This back alley smells vaguely of spoiled milk, and something oddly sweet. You swallow hard, but the lump in your throat is seemingly stuck there.

Sukuna pulls a pack of cigarettes, and a lighter from his pocket. You decline when he offers you one. "I watched him getting a little too handsy with Kento earlier," he says, "I was going to kick his ass out sooner, but he slipped away on me,

“Are you alright?” Sukuna turns to you to ask. “Did he hurt you?”

“Nah, just startled me,” you say. “That's all.”

Sukuna nods, but his expression says anything but agreeance. He joins you in sitting on the steps. You can smell his cologne from here. And it should be a nice smell, but really, it just makes you nauseous.

“Wanna take a few swings at him? Cops won't be here for a while. I’ll say it was me that did it—they’re a lot less likely to haul my ass in for a domestic disturbance.” 

True. A man is less likely to be arrested for a petty fight than a woman is for defending herself. Gotta love living in the city…

"No," you say, after a moment of consideration, "just leave him out here with the garbage." 

You gather a wad of blood and saliva in your mouth, before spitting it out onto his back.

"I'll get you some ice." He says.

"For what?"

"Your hand," he says, "looks like you got that guy pretty good."

Sukuna groans as he stands. Rain clouds gather overhead. Bad weather for an even worse mood. How fitting. You suppose you spoke too soon about the rain. Slowly a dull ache spreads through your knuckles. There's no blood, but dark bruises are beginning to bloom under your skin. He returns a moment later with a ziplock bag full of ice cubes, and a towel. He takes your hand in one of his much larger ones, pressing the ice pack against it. Despite everything about him being quite rough, his hands are gentle, and warm.

"I completely understand if you no longer wish to work for us." He says. "I must say, what happened tonight is not a normal occurrence. Such a thing isn’t-"

"Sukuna," you say, interrupting him, "I'll take the job."

[queenshelby]

My Friend’s Father (Part Twelve)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Domestic Violence, Angst

Words: 1,366

Please comment and interact…it’s what keeps this blog going

***************************

 When you picked up the intercom, you were surprised to hear the voice of Denise’s mother and, after you let her upstairs through the apartment building, you quickly shoved your intimate toys beneath one of the pillows on Cillian’s bed and shut the door to his bedroom.

‘Hey Y/N’ she said somewhat surprised when you greeted her. ‘I thought Denise is in Manchester, visiting Cillian on set’ she then asked and you nodded nervously.

‘She is’ you confirmed while she made her way inside the apartment.  

‘So, what are you doing here on your own then?’ she asked somewhat confused and you had to think quickly in order to come up with an excuse.

‘Uhm…something happened at home and…uhm…Cillian offered me to stay here while he was not using the apartment while I am sorting out accommodation on campus’ you stammered, barely able to form a full sentence.

‘Right, well that’s nice of him’ she said before informing you that she came by to pick up some of Lucas’s things which he had left at the apartment during his last visit to Galway.

‘I have Lucas’s key but, since I saw the lights on, I didn’t just want to walk inside and I tried to reach Cillian but he didn’t answer his phone’ she explained before grabbing a bag from Lucas’s room, telling you that Lucas was waiting for her in the car and wishing you a pleasant night.  

****

The following day, you immediately received a call from Denise who was somewhat surprised when she found that you were staying at her father’s apartment in Galway.

‘My parents said that dad had offered you to stay at his apartment in Galway after I told him what happened between you and your father. Did he call you? I didn’t even think he had your number?’ Denise asked somewhat surprised before asking you whether you were alright after the incident.

‘I am fine. I gave your dad my number a while ago, just in case he ever needed it’ you explained and Denise didn’t bother to question you any more about it. Instead, she simply laughed, thinking that you were again trying to hit on her father.

Whilst she was surprised that he had rang you and offered you his place to stay, she knew about what had happened with your sister several years ago and felt as though her father probably just wanted to help you since you were her friend.

‘Anyway, dad isn’t coming home next week and Lucas is in Cork. You should come to Dublin and spend the weekend with me. We would have the house to ourselves’ Denise then suggested.

‘I can’t. I have to work’ you said, unable to tell her the truth, namely that you would be spending the weekend with her father.

‘That’s a shame. Well, I guess you would rather come and visit me in Dublin when dad is home anyway’ she then joked and you couldn’t help but gulp.

‘Yeah, well, he is hot’ you then said somewhat embarrassed but forcing out a laugh nonetheless.

‘You are disgusting’ Denise said before carrying on…‘Also, I am sorry to disappoint you but I think he’s got a girlfriend and it is not Laura Jennings’ Denise then said and you couldn’t help but ask Denise about it.

‘What makes you say that?’ you asked, curious as to how Denise knew about her father seeing someone else.

‘Dad has been glued to his phone all of last night, texting with a woman friend of his. This friend even sent him a nude picture’ Denise laughed, causing you to choke.

‘A nude picture?’ you asked, cheeks blushing red.

‘Yes, a nude picture. The message popped up on his phone in preview and I saw it. I couldn’t see her face though and, luckily, her intimate parts were covered by a James Joyce Novel’ Denise said rather amused and you couldn’t help but feel sick to your stomach knowing that Denise had seen this somewhat inappropriate picture of you.

‘Uhm…well…at least your dad is happy, right?’ you then said nervously.

‘Right. He seems pretty happy actually’ Denise said before having to bring the phone call to an end. ‘Anyway, I better go. Amalie wants to go shopping today’ Denise then said before wishing you a good day and telling you to stay away from her draws, thinking that you were staying in her room at the apartment.

***

With Denise and her mother being fully aware about where you were staying, it didn’t take long for your mother to find out and, if your mother knew, your father would soon know as well.

Denise’s mother and your mother used to be friends until contact broke between them following some sort of incident just over a year ago.

You never knew what the incident was about and Cillian made clear to you that he wouldn’t get involved in it again and, if you wanted to know about it, you needed to speak to your mother. It wasn’t his place to be unless it involved you directly.

You accepted his decision but, when your mother contacted Cillian’s ex wife to see whether she knew where you were staying after Denise refused to tell her, things had become difficult yet again and you agreed to meet your mother on Friday morning at a nearby café.

When you sat down together, she first handed you a letter from Trinity College in Dublin.

‘Your scholarship has been accepted. I suppose that will solve your problems, right?’ she asked with a warm smile and you couldn’t help but get a little excited. This was all you ever wanted and you knew that you could stay at campus in Dublin for free while attending university and working part time.

‘I am sorry mum, I shouldn’t have taken off so suddenly, but he has gone too far this time’ you said rather upset.

‘I understand and thank you for checking in with me every day via text message’ your mother then said and you nodded before giving her a hug. It was obvious to you that she wasn’t angry with you and supported your decision to leave rather abruptly.

‘I didn’t want dad to know where I am staying because, as far as I am aware, his relationship with Denise’s family is rather bad’ you then said which is also when your mother opened up to you about why this is the case.

‘Denise’s mother and I were good friends, even after she tried to help your sister behind your father’s back when we found out about her pregnancy. I knew about it. In fact, it was me who asked her for help. Your father found out about it later down the track and then he did to me what he did to you the other day. I went to Denise’s parents’ house for help as I was so upset but, in the end, I worked things out with your father through the Church counsellor’ your mother explained before telling you that your father had threatened Cillian and his ex-wife if they wouldn’t stay out of their marriage.

‘Mum, in all honesty, you deserve better than this. Why do you put up with his anger? Just because he repents every week doesn’t make it right’ you said, taking her hand.

‘Because I love him and this happened once. It never happened again’ she said and you simply nodded, having to accept her decision.

‘Okay’ you said before allowing her to change the topic to something more pleasant which is when you began talking about your upcoming birthday before it was time for you to go.

You knew that, in about five hours, Cillian would be at the apartment and, before he got there, you wanted to cook, tidy up, shower, shave and get yourself into some nice lingerie.

 Tag List:

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@peaky-cillian​

@severewobblerlightdragon​  @ysmmsy​ @kpopgirlbtssvt

[hhjs]

forget me not.

♡ based on — "During times of war. I want to say: I only love you, And I cling you, Like the peel clings to a pomegranate, Like the tear clings to the eye, Like the knife clings to the wound." and the song nightlife by daydream masi.

♡ summary  —   Hyunjin's unsure of the tingle in his gut, why it's happening. But he thinks, just for a second, it feels a little like hope.

wherein, putting your heart on the line for the sake of doing favours isn’t a frequent component in your schedule. But what happens when this favour is asked for by the boy you may or may not have fancied for far too long?

 You accept it. 

 For a very embarrassing reason, really, which is — you think Hwang Hyunjin needs you.

♡ pairing— hwang hyunjin x reader

♡ word count— 8.8k whoopsies

♡ genre and alternate universe — angst, fluff + hanahaki au.

♡ author's note— this was supposed to be a drabble and then i sort of lost my fucking mind ehe...also this is easily the worst thing i have ever written im so sorry aaa but this is a lil present from my end hahaha

♡ warnings— suggestive content, vomiting, mention of blood. allusions to depression and heartbreak.

Amongst other things, you're extremely bad at saying 'no'. You don't mean the word per se...but the underlying connotation of this very monosyllable which may come at the expense of letting another person down.

It's sort of stupid, you understand, your friends have constantly voiced their worries for your extremely complacent nature more often than you'd think actually. But it all goes over your head. See — old habits really do die hard.

When you're eight, this very defect takes you to dreadful saxophone lessons your mum spoke so highly of. When you're 15, it gets you called to the principal's office for flashing Jeongin trigonometric functions in Mister Choi's pop quiz, when you're older, things are definitely no different.

The passenger seat is occupied, Hyunjin's holding a tangled muffler to his suede jacket clad chest. At 21, he's become someone you used to know. A friend of a friend, Felix's to be very specific. But the man in question, who was supposed to be his ride, passes off this duty for kegstands and you just happen to be the designated driver for the night, shuffling Jisung beside Changbin and Chan, who claims to be 'sober' even though he's half asleep.

Hyunjin is uncharacteristically quiet.

There's a polite smile on rendered your way as your eyes meet. A small curvature along his plump bottom lip, tighter around the edges. Still this simple formality is so beautiful that you feel something inside you come alive.

When Jisung starts snoring, you flip on the radio and Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here comes on.

Your fingers feel numb when they come to tap out a rhythm to the track. It's nice. Tingling guitar riffs swelling, David Gilmour's gruffy voice pours in from faulty speakers. The more the song progresses, the more you find yourself attempting to think about anything that will distract you from the boy beside you, in the flesh no less.

So late at night, the main road is eerily silent. Cobblestones reflecting the sound of tires thumping against its layout, streetlights blinking at you from their drooping heads. Across the street, a baker is tucking away leftover bread and buskers are packing up their beat up guitars, a man in his late 50's pulling his blanket to his nose as he rests a head full of gray hair on the cold pavement.

You glance at Hyunjin from the corner of your eye and find that his staggering smile has completely disappeared. Now there's a distant glaze in his eyes. It's like he's here, in this moment, with you, but at the same time, he's somewhere else.

Under the impression you've done something wrong, you immediately begin to panic. But the thing is, you don't actually know if you should ask. Would it constitute as crossing a line if you had anyway?

Hyunjin covers his mouth with a sleeve, muffled retching building beyond fabric.

The reasonable assumption is obvious. It's not abnormal to be nauseous when you've got one too many drinks in you. He motions for you to pull over, incoherent sentences practically melding together, words forming and dissipating between choking fits.

You scramble to dig out a bottle of mineral water you habitually deposit in the glove compartment, offering him the tissue first. Ears perking up in satisfaction when a garbled thanks escapes his parted lips. But then... something weird happens.

As your eyes flicker to unintentionally glance at the contents discarded on the pitch grey sidewalk, you freeze in your seat.

You were never a big believer of superstition, not someone who buys into myths only meant for the fiction genre. Sure, you can be gullible sometimes...but what's happening falls no way under the realistic category.

The lethal Hanahaki disease, only inherited by some unlucky descendants, every moment in your head prior to this one, was something that's obviously non existent.

Yet... there's so much blood, too much blood attesting to your blatant ignorance. The petals are of a white rose, smudging together in swirls of grotesque crimson in mimicry of a sheen of red sticking to the inner corners of his lips. It has happened before, you can tell, from just how unsurprised he looks.

Hyunjin's stare flits to commit every detail of your to memory, in what only seems a quick study of gauging your forthcoming reaction, though even before you can produce a coherent thought, he says,

"You can't tell anyone." His voice drops a few octaves as though he's afraid your snoring friends in the back might've noticed. "Please."

Hyunjin's face softens by the slightest, contrary to his firm demand, there lies a desperation you couldn't overlook.

In retrospect, what you're about to tell is ultimately a promise that'd come back to bite you in due time. However, see now, you're extremely bad at saying no. Somehow you're even worse when it comes to Hyunjin. So you blink, turn the radio off and say,

"Okay."

—

The pool is preheated. For that you're most thankful.

Frankly, you couldn't imagine what it'd be like being pushed into a chilly body of water mid winter. Not that it's pleasant otherwise, you can't swim.

Well at 15, you hadn't quite learned to. The other kids have scurried inside to hog freshly baked Snowman biscuits Seungmin's mum is renowned for.

Then and you think you'll never quite forget it, Hyunjin's wearing an orange power ranger t shirt, it's darker now that it's wet, his glasses are marked with uneven splatters. His face scrunches up at the sudden splash of wetness engulfing his body. He wasn't planning to get in the water.

"Hold on tight." He says, wounding your arms around his neck, your calves tighter to his sides to support your shivering body. Back then Hyunjin's hair was black, cropped short and swept to the side, he smells like fabric softener and skittles. A water donut is discarded in the middle of the pool.

Everybody you know and don't know, from the birth of superheroes stuck in comic books to valiant protagonists behind fuzzy television screens, has this inherent desire to be saved. From the world, from themselves. No, no, it doesn't have to be a grand gesture, swooping them off of their feet from the grasp of surly men in dark alleys, sometimes it's really just simple. Sometimes people save you in the most ordinary way there is.

The weight of your form on his bright pink water donut while he stood on his toes to merely rest his elbows so the item wouldn't flip, a small act, certified this very claim, had not the nimble touch of his cold fingers, brushing away wet hair from your face, to anxiously ask if you're okay met the purpose. He talks to you like the sound of his voice has the power to injure you.

You nod slowly. Like this, it feels like you're going to be.

Hyunjin pouts, looking perfectly unconvinced. He paddles the pair of you to steel stairs spiraling into the pool, so he can stand without just his nose peeking out of the water, he looks at you once again, a wrinkle between his dark, arched eyebrows and says solemnly, "Jisung's such an idiot sometimes, isn’t he?"

But isn't he your friend? You want to ask. Something stops you though —his tone tells you you aren't the only one to fall victim to Jisung's practical jokes. Not that they were offensive or anything. Han Jisung, the same person who twiddles his thumbs when he wants the last chicken nugget and cries every time you watch Howl's Moving Castle together, genuinely doesn't mean any harm. It's just that...when he's comfortable with people, who aren't many, he tends to do a lot of dumb things. Dumb, endearing things that Minho will kill him for someday.

"A little bit," You mumble under your breath. Heat rising to your face at the possibility of Hyunjin being concerned for you. He sounds almost angry. "Thanks by the way."

It's rather pitiful to remember. Because with time, Hyunjin's world becomes so big that your interaction stands to be too insignificant to not forget. Before you know it, he's the shooting guard of your school's basketball team, just a handsome face who dates better girls, makes better friends. It's superficial and a little sad.

No, no, a little sad is an understatement actually.

To see someone you understood intimately, a boy who always described details too much just to stray from the main story, a boy with too many emotions bubbling to an awfully animated surface; someone who was passionate, sensitive and so nauseatingly big hearted...change into a man who is indubitably untouchable...is tragic. At least.

Yet funnily enough — you can't quite imagine a world without Hwang Hyunjin. His ringing laughter rippling through loud ambiences, his distant humming of Christmas carols whilst he absently skimmed through spines of children's novels and his eyes glimmering in adoration whenever he spoke of something he loved — Without him, you imagine, there would be a massive deficiency in your world, in the world. Like if birthday cakes came with the biggest slice carved out.

Hyunjin grins, a big sort of candid grin that turns his eyes into upturned crescents. His previous temperament long forgotten. Suddenly, this utterly atrocious happening seems to not be so bad. Suddenly you don't mind that Jisung is an idiot sometimes.

"Of course."

—

Hyunjin is not perfect. Hyunjin is no prince charming.

People don't know this. They don't understand this.

He ends up paying for dinner when he's out with a big crowd even though they were supposed to split the bill, he ends up crying when he gets angry and he is an abysmal liar, in every sense of the phrase. Hardly ever succeeding to hide his emotions when he should. When he was a kid his parents reminded him that it's a good thing to be unapologetically himself, that being honest is a good thing.

But as your eyes meet from across an ocean of people quagmired by crunchy leaves, sticky remnants of rain and his ex girlfriend who he now claims to be okay with being friends with, on her toes to poke his cheek whilst Chan's arm wraps around her waist, the soft white roses ornamented on a bow she loves wearing all the time, he thinks it's far from an agreeable trait to have.

Actually whilst you balance a newspaper under your arm and bring your coffee to your lips, it's like you're looking through him, past his skin, his flesh, something secret inscribed on his bones, embedded into his soul. You know everything, you know everything, you know everything.

The thought itself... surprisingly enough, doesn't appal him.

Hyunjin raises his palm in the air, feeling the autumn prickling against his skin. He waves at you.

—

Working at a library can be taxing. But it sure has its perks.

You can just about turn the place upside down and put it all back together without getting in trouble. Albeit another reason, besides your profession could be that Minho owns the place. Frankly, he may or may not have been the only cause behind your employment. It's hard to tell now that your co-workers really do recognise you've a knack for arranging things.

But to you, your job is very personal. A precious thing which relieves you from various worldly tensions. Velvety spines under your roughened fingertips, the burst of minted pages hitting your face every time you walk in, your love for reading, for a world of stories is so immense that you think you wouldn't have traded it even if your life depended on it.

For a disease that's not very well known, it's ironic how an entire section of mythology is dedicated to it. Past closing hours, amongst many novels mounted on your desk, you fixate on the one that made most sense. There's a few things you've picked up in common from all of them though — the hanahaki disease is extremely rare, it doesn't affect all those who suffer from the qualms of unrequited love.

Possible remedy according to findings entail

growths can be surgically removed, if the patient consents to eradication of memories of their loved ones.

Clanking of keys alerts incoming and you pause your tapping pen to look up.

"Burning the midnight oil, are we?"

Minho leans against the doorframe, he's half yawning, half talking and fully concerned for you.

"Yeah, looks like I'm gonna be a while." Your monotonous tone provides that you are not paying a lot of attention. You blurt without looking up. "Are you leaving?"

"No, still haven't finished archiving for that Pfizer project...But I'm going to get a bite to eat..." His inky eyes remain on you as his tone falters, "You want anything?"

"I'm fine. Thanks."

"Wow you're like...really uh invested." He tilts his head in thought, "You seeing someone again?"

You know Minho long enough to know he has a teasing side to him, from diaper days to play dates ending in pillow fights because he kept offering you his last Pringle just to pop it into his stupid smirking mouth — but you have no idea where he's going with this.

So you look up, finally. Furrowing your brows.

"No. What does that have to do with anything?"

He shrugs, "I haven't seen you concentrate so hard since you dumped Jeongin."

Your right eye twitches. Because you know exactly what he's referring to, and simultaneously, for the sake of your well-being, you much prefer being in denial. "What?"

"C'mon. Remember how you always ended up doing his homework?" He reminds you. "It's like when you like someone, you go out of your way to do charitable stuff for them. But...this? Too much. Even for you."

You ignore Minho's comment. To the world, Hwang Hyunjin's place in your life is not significant. After all this is the most natural undulation in the vicissitudes of life — for someone who once was your friend to eventually drift apart, to become a has been. It's too hard to explain why you care. After all this time.

"I was just being nice." You narrow your eyes, unimpressed. "Clearly this concept is lost on some people."

"Sure you are, bud. If being 'nice' is synonymous with whipped." Of course, there's a smug grin gracing his pouted lips that tempts you to fling something at him. Not that you can though. Seeing as Minho breaks out into a full fledged sprint, his singsongy voice a thinning echo bouncing off of shelves and windows and doors.

Still somehow his footsteps manage to travel through walls, permeating into your office with such great amplitude that you could be bamboozled into thinking he hasn't left at all. Or maybe you've stopped paying attention, your eyes zoom in on any other helpful detail you can put to use in wrapping your head around what you have witnessed firsthand.

At the same time, you can't really ignore how hungry you're feeling just from the mention of a bite to eat. So when Minho's shadow forms again on the page you've been 'reading' for the last few seconds you sense a gigantic wave of relief washing over you.

"You know what I changed my—" slamming the book shut, you blink against scanty provision of light, with raise your head and a bleary vision, recognise him in an instant. Except...it isn't Minho. "mind..."

The only source of brightness is a small emerald lamp perched on the corner of your desk, light green catches onto one of the ornamented corners and speckles of golden caress his supple skin gently. You hadn't realised how cold it might've been outside until you see how heavily dressed Hyunjin was, a long overcoat worn over woollen sweater, a Santa hat and muffler pulled to his chin. It's no one other than your boss himself who has given him directions to your office, you know this, Hyunjin has never been inside before.

So when he marvels absently, you sense yourself feeling a little self conscious about not cleaning up. All around you, a comforter and love seat pushed against the window, cigarette butts discarded in ashtray and then...the books strewn before you tell him you practically live here.

For some reason, Hyunjin only seems to loosen up at the spectacle.

"Hi." He says finally.

"Hi..." you arrange the reading materials quickly to one side so you can rest your elbows. A small (successful) attempt made to hide your research. "Something up?" You say, but what you really mean is, what are you doing here?!

Did he suspect you were going to tell on him? Right that's it, that must be it, you tell yourself, believing, knowing, of all the years Hwang Hyunjin has known of you he has never been one to care about your whereabouts.

"I just...um," He starts, forwarding his mitten clad hands. It's the back of a crumpled coffee cup on which straight handwriting reads a bucket list...of sorts. You immediately understand that his coming is an act of impulse. Urgency of living every moment like it's slipping through it's fingers, that he just needed to tell the only person who knows, be it by accident.

Hyunjin clears his throat. "I wanna do all this before I die."

In lieu of giving an instant response, baffled, you gawp at him. Despite knowing, hearing Hyunjin say it out loud somehow makes everything...too real.

It's as though someone's reached inside your throat, pulled your heart out and crushed it with their bare hands. Hyunjin, the boy who smelled like fabric softener and skittles and wore power ranger shirts, the boy with the fantastic smile and cold fingers, is dying. You won't let him. You can't let him.

You thumb along the numbers scribbled in hasty penmanship, look up and blink rapidly, "Okay," you say, a small whisper, barely there words. "That's okay."

Even with the hat covering tips of ears, you could tell the same faint blush coating his cheeks had rushed to that particular area. His eyes drift off to the sight of pens discarded inside a wooden holder because he can feel your gaze on him. "and I...I need your help."

"Alright."

Hyunjin's eyes widen to a great degree, he sits straighter, as if he hadn't expected you to comply so quickly.

And honestly? Neither had you.

It's quiet. Awkward.

"You know it's not like I haven't thought about dying. I just figured I'd get to grow old first, settle down, have kids and all that," A wry laugh escapes his parted lips. "Everything's happening too fast."

You hesitate, thinking he's making a mistake. Frankly he shouldn't feel obligated to give you an explanation.

"You...you don't have to tell me."

"No—I mean...can I?" He gives you a sheepish look, disliking his own whimsical tone, somehow endearing still. You find yourself wondering how long he had to keep his burdens to himself, not just pertaining to his illness, but everything. His dreams, his hopes, his fears. Anything which requires a certain amount of depth. And you almost ask him, the question sitting at the tip of your tongue, yet the realisation rather simple, stops you. Maybe you've mistranslated 21 year old Hyunjin all along — moulding himself into someone who's convenient around people who only liked him for who he appeared to be, maybe even with all that popularity, parties and glamour, he's just...lonely.

You push your reading glasses into your hair, press your knuckles under your chin and hum in consent.

He shifts in his seat, "Have you ever... been in love?"

You release an amused huff. Let your eyes linger on him for a long minute.

"Once."

Hyunjin half expects you to laugh. Poke fun at him for his melodramatic backstory. That's the sole reason why he doesn't tell his friends (funny, for people he considers close, they seem to know not much about him or care to know, that is. ). But you... you look at him with something in your eyes that tells him the rubbish reasons he posited makes all the sense in the world. Hyunjin's unsure of the tingle in his gut, why it's happening. But he thinks, just for a second, it feels a little like hope.

—

 Midnight rendezvous.

As someone who has lived a fairly extraordinary life, Hwang Hyunjin's bucket list is bafflingly ordinary. He's more of a finding joy in small things kind of a person, punctilious at best.

Things change. People notice. They hesitate, whisper about you and last night while you were out on last minute cheap wine run, the grocerer, a girl who looks around sixteen asks you if you're dating Hyunjin. Underneath the thinly veiled curiousity, there's something like anger dripping from her words.

You furrow your eyebrows in simple insinuation that it's weird for a stranger to take interest in your life. Maybe it was written on your face, the fact that you're a dying man's beck and call is for reasons far more complicated than it looks.

You go to his parties. Greet him as a friend would and not just for the sake of maintaining formalities. He comes to the library more times than he does, waits for you to get off work so you can check something off the list at least. People notice. People understand. Hyunjin's different around you. He's bright, talkative when he forgets to contain himself. You sense your heart swelling with pride just at the understanding that he can be himself around you.

You drive to the beach, sit in your trunk and drink straight out of the bottle.

Hyunjin laughs a little. Suspends his feet in the air. With time, he's gotten paler, exhausted. "Rough day?"

You hum.

"Very. Our children's collection is usually low in stock around the weekends."

Hyunjin crosses his arms over his chest. Curious.

"And?"

"And if I say I got yelled at by a toddler would you believe me?"

Hyunjin feigns contemplation, even with the realisation that his body is becoming less and less cooperative, he manages to remain perfectly cheerful.

"I can actually," he grins, "At that age, I was a real pain in the ass."

"Were?"

Your smile is just a slight curl against the bottle's mouth as he grumbles under his breath about your 'insensitive' remark.

You think of your life after Hyunjin, think of his absence like a gaping hole you'll never be able to fill out. It makes you sick to your stomach.

—

Bake something from scratch.

Hyunjin's face twists in apparent thought, eyebrows rising. A pink tongue poked against his cheek, whilst he chews carefully, trying really hard not to flash an accidental reaction whilst you clasp your butter and oat flour soiled hands together, some of the batter on your cheek, neck to anticipate his answer like your will to live depends on it.

You ask yourself how it got to this. Why you didn't care that you were awake so early on a Sunday morning with flour powdering every kitchen appliance in sight in spite of being awfully restrictive about who you let into your kitchen. But it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter because it's nice like this.

Hyunjin has his hair pulled away from his bare face, a mole under his eye, a small birthmark on the back of his ear.

When you first met, you thought he was a kind of handsome that couldn't be real. Something formidable about it. Only destined to exist behind fuzzy television screens and flashy magazines.

But in retrospect, you realise, that that's not true at all. 

If you look close enough, if you really pay attention, there's a softness underneath, something goofy, something warm, the sharp jut of his nose circling into a soft button, his eyes are big, black and his mouth jutted out into a natural pout, he looks innocent, like he doesn't quite realise the extent of his charms.

"It's..." His soft voice pulls you out of your reverie, and you look up to find his eyes glimmering jovially. Every time it surprises you, the lack of regret in them and the abundance of nonchalance. You wonder what it means to love someone like that, to love someone to the point of martyrdom. It shouldn't be like this. "perfect,"

"This is like, the only batch we didn't burn, right?"

You snort, "Yeah." Fully turn to him, "You know what they say, fifth time's the charm."

Hyunjin's laugh, you think, is so contagious that it makes it an imperative to smile in return. In shaky compartments the sound comes, like being 8, laying wide-eyed in a paddling pool and staring up at a crayon blue sky, raindrop rippling beyond all that noiseless water. His eyes curve to upturned crescents, an unconscious hand covering up the seams of his lips whilst he shakes his head. You don't even notice when he starts speaking again.

"Huh?"

"I said you got a little...something..."

You almost lose a fraction of your sanity when his nimble fingers come to wrap around your wrist while you hold onto the spatula employed into the whole snickerdoodle batter mixing business, a liberated hand coming up to gently wipe your cheek. It means everything to you. And nothing to him.

Later, when you're alone at night, really alone, you put your palm to your chest and feel the unsteady beat of your heart. A warning, a reminder. I can't. I can't. I can't.

—

You hold Hyunjin's hair up. His hands resting on the cold toilet seat, he's whimpering and bleeding. It happens every time he sees Haseul, or something which reminds him of her. Like the song.

This time she's drunk. And it's because she impulsively rises to her toes and presses a tender kiss to Chan's lips.

Hyunjin's just a feet away, across students and solo cups and streaks of neon falling irregularly through his line of sight.

He can never confess, not to her. The last thing Hyunjin wants is for her to feel bad for him. To say she feels the same as an act of service. He tells you. You understand. Somehow... you always understand.

They met in college, Hyunjin and she. And Chan was an upperclassman who seemed to be good at...well everything. At first, he couldn't figure out why it never occured to him before, the fact they were getting together maybe before, after or during the length of their relationship.

Though the answer is simple.

Hyunjin thinks the pillar to good relationships is trust. Call him a sappy romantic or whatever but he had seen true love manifest from it through generations before him and his parents and their parents. To think a different fate was woven for him...used to be unimaginable.

How ironic is that?

Hyunjin presses his cheek against your chest because he doesn't want you to look at him when he cries.

Then for the first time....he tells you he's scared. He's scared of what will happen to him. Of what is happening to him.

He's falling apart.

You cradle him, press him closer to your body like you're trying to put him together. People can't fix each other. Not really. But sometimes... they're worth the try.

"Hey...hey...it's alright," You shush him, run your fingers through his hair. Your voice almost breaking, faltering. Still this, this you mean it with every fibre of your being. "It's okay to be scared."

—

Self bleach hair.

It's Christmas and you're late for a late night dinner he's putting together. (As reluctant as he was about getting along with Hyunjin, he seems all too eager to make invite him whenever a get together takes effect.)

His apartment smells like floor cleaner. There's a queen sized bed pushed against an electric blue wall, a Fleetwood Mac poster taped to his door, small reading desk where Canon EOS New Kiss rests, polaroids of things checked off the list littered all its wooden surface.

You pick up the only photo he hasn't labelled, it reminds you that your friendship isn't just based off a pursuit. This is natural. Pizza box discarded between you two, on your roof top. It's a little too dark, you're holding a cigarette between your fingers, you're laughing and Hyunjin looks like he's going to complain the minute he's done taking the picture. (And he does.)

You smile, pressing your fingers against it like the touch could transport you to a simpler time.

"Ready to go?"

Hyunjin rakes a tentative hand through his newly dyed hair, grey (a suitable colour he says.). You can tell he's put a lot of effort into cleaning up, his usual hoodies and sweats alternated with a red satin shirt tucked into dark dress pants and a coat of the same colour.  Hyunjin is beautiful. Perhaps even more like this. In fact, the extent of this quality is so Goliath-like that it obliges dolled up attendees to marvel up in awe.  While you fully agree with their unsaid ponderings, you really do, you find yourself missing a less sophisticated version of him. 

"Yeah, but first..." you fish out a wrapped squarish material from the depths of your pocket. Hyunjin's eyes widen, two bunny-like teeth showing for the extent of his grin.

"You got me a present!" He all but rips it out of your hand, shaking the material eagerly. He’s a Christmas person, a supreme holiday enthusiast if you will. The sheer excitement in him projects itself in every physical aspect possible. Slight jumping on the balls of his feet. "It's a cassette...?"

You speak too much, nervous he doesn't like it. "It’s a Christmas mix. I thought...since you like carols. I know it's a little old school, I'm sorry if that’s not what you were hoping for—"

Hyunjin pulls you into a big hug, wrapping his entire body it feels like; his arms around your waist, he squeezes you tighter against him, "Thank you." He whispers into your hair, it's not just about the cassette, you can tell. 

There's a small light bulb dangling from his ceiling, he hasn't fixed it since the first time you pointed it out. You can tell with your eyes closed, you've begun to know more intimately than your own home. It's safe here. A place that deludes you into thinking that he's not running out of time, that even in his absence in the world, whenever you should walk into this room, it would be an imperative to find Hyunjin lazying about in its confines. Familiarity can be quite tricky, can't it?

His gratitude is not unknown to you. It's in the guilty smile that threatens to show every now and then, it's in this and it's in that. In many ways, it is not something you're a stranger to.

And yet the words manage to tears your heart at the seams. Just a little.

—

 Make a snow angel.

From above, he imagines, he may appear to look like a chunk of cookie dough in an ice cream pint.

The snow is not as comfortable as it appears, its frigid temperature seeps into Hyunjin's clothes (and what feels like his internal organs, if that's even possible). He waves his hands and legs inward, outward.

Your head tilts towards him. Face twisted in annoyance. "You're getting on my wing!" You say. "Have you no respect for personal space?!"

Hyunjin narrows his eyes jovially. And people tell him he's the one with a penchant for theatrics. He leans closer in rebuttal, waving his leg around your design with more purpose.  You give up. Sit on your knees, fumble with the snow. He’s still in the same position. Smug as ever...

"This is what happens when you disrespect your elders." He fake-warns. "Oka—"

What he doesn't anticipate, however, is the snowball you launch on his stupid grinning face. Now it's your turn to laugh. You clutch your stomach and point at him whilst he glares at you having barely managed to blow the snow off of his mouth.

"Oh, you're gonna get it now!"

You let out an animalistic screech, Hyunjin’s already trapped you under his weight, his thighs wound around your waist, hamstringing your plan to escape, now you're merely squirming. His fingers come down to attack your sides, digging into the flesh so mercilessly to the point you’re not sure if you’re laughing or crying. It's like there's a wildfire inside your lungs.

For a moment you forget, you let yourself forget what's to come.

“Alright, alright I’m sorry!” you press your palms against his chest in an attempt to push him off, Hyunjin has a dumb smile on his face that seems to give the impression of a hanger  stuck inside his mouth. But... there's something behind his entertainment as the sound of his laugh dies down, chest heaving with exercise. His smile drops.

You can count each lash, each freckle and line on his face. The dark in his eyes. The pink of his lips. Your sweater's ridden to your ribs. And the warmth of his fingers shifting against your bare skin hits you with an earthshattering force.

Hyunjin kisses you. For a fleeting second, you freeze. Rigid with shock. Then it passes as soon as it comes.

 You let out a noise of content,indubitably grateful that your neighbours forgot to put on their porch light for the night.  See it’s like this, the act of kissing is not as special as is the person himself, you muse, you can kiss anyone, you can touch and be touched by anyone. But none of that truly compares to this. Not when they aren't him.

You’d be lying if you said you never thought about it. Just like you’ve thought about a lot of things. But just the realisation that the boy you’ve harboured in your heart for more complicated reasons than you disclose, to yourself even, touches you with so, so much care...it’s tearing you apart. 

It’s too good to be real.

You suddenly push him away. The tugging and pulling at your heart too much to handle. For the fact remains — Hyunjin doesn't love you. He doesn't even like you. You never expected him to. Actually, you've never felt what you feel with that condition in mind either.

See when the feeling of having everything you could ever want is cradled between your palms...it ought to be hard to let go. (Maybe he’s just doing this because he feels bad for you, the little voice in your head says. You listen.)

Hyunjin speaks up first.

“I love Haseul.”  he tells you, but it sounds more like he’s telling himself. “That’s why...that’s why, all this...I love her.” Not you.

You swallow, “I know.” Your hands come up to dust your pants. Hyunjin’s still on his knees, as if the answer to his conflicts are deposited under all the snow. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not, it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have done—”

Now you hear it, the hint of pity in his voice. You don’t mean to sound as bitter as you do. Seeing as you’re usually very good at keeping calm , breaking that very reputed front frustrates you even more.

“Look just forget about it, okay? We don’t have to talk about this.”

Hyunjin looks like he didn’t expect this side of you to exist. At least, you think, at least it got him to stop talking.

—

Learn to skate.

"If I fall, I'm taking you with me."

"You say it like I have a choice."

Hyunjin shoots you a warning glare even though you can't see. His choppy skidding steps supported by the vice grip he has on your arms. You haven't skated since you were in highschool. But when you're pretty good at it still, the smooth blade of your beaten skates gliding through ice with much dexterity, it's like floating, freeing, the wind hitting your faces, snow catching in your lashes. It's peaceful, you try not to think about the warmth of Hyunjin's arm circling around body, the vague rhythm of his heartbeat against your back. His laboured breaths on your neck. It's torturous. But spending so much time with him has taught you to hide your feelings better.

The park welcomes a large crowd around holiday season, children with toothless grins, tugging onto their mum's coats, small chin resting onto a parents' head, teenagers moving in together in school uniforms. It's the happiest time of the year. When you move past an elderly couple, they smile and tell you make a wonderful couple.

You're just about to make a correction. This puts you in an awkward position... doesn't it?

But then Hyunjin grins toothily and says, Thank you, like it's the most amusing thing in the world. You ignore the wrenching inside your chest.

Hyunjin leans forward, his plump lips brushing against your ear. "Where did you learn to skate so well?!" There's something like excitement in his kiddish laugh aside from admiration. It's not much of a question as it is an exclamation.

"I am pretty good, aren't I?"

He laughs, doesn't let you go. "Yes, yes...really good."

Out of breath, you slow down, move your feet steadily, careful not to lose balance.

"Oh my God! It is you!"

You raise your head, blink against flakes hindering your vision. Jeongin's voice used to be thinner before. As far as you remember. Now it has a weight to it.

You let out a nervous laugh.

"And it's you..."

Jeongin's eyes travel to the arms around your waist, to the stiffened figure behind you and you immediately liberate yourself. Moving to let Hyunjin use your arm as purchase, you don't fail to notice the pinch in his forehead, a frown on his mouth.

"This is my friend Hyunjin. Hyunjin, this is Jeongin—"

"We used to go out." Jeongin smiles, forwarding his hand, which is returned with an unenthused shake and a demure reply. Hyunjin never speaks to anyone this way, not even people he claims to hate.

The former male looks to you again, "I was, uh... wondering if you'd like to go out for a cup of coffee sometime."

Things between you and him ended amicably at the event of his departure for further studies, which deprives you of awkward tension which is expected when exes meet.

Besides, a cup of coffee never hurt anyone.

Right?

Without thinking, you nod slowly, "Yeah that sounds good,"

"Text me anytime."

"Sure."

 “I'll be out of your hair then," he beams. "It was very nice meeting you too, Hyunjin."

"Right."

Hyunjin, you realise, has released your arm. He leans on barricades fencing along the skating area, smiling briefly. You know it’s wrong...yet you sense that you almost need him to be upset.

Then he tilts his head back towards you, "He seems like a really nice guy," he whispers, genuinely meaning every word. Your heart sinks. "I see the appeal." Underneath the lurid glare of fairy lights brandished overhead, Hyunjin's ash hair glints like it's threaded out of silver. You wonder what he's thinking.

—

 Watch every Disney movie ever made.

You never end up texting Jeongin back. Just stalling for when you're ready, you tell yourself. Even though that's not true at all.

"This brings back so many memories. My parents used to belt out A Whole New World with me, like every time we watched Aladdin."

Hyunjin wipes his face with the back of his hand, technically you’re not very sure what he’s saying exactly because he’s mumbling into a paper napkin you've  passed over for the umpteenth time. You find yourself picturing a small but happy family of three, of Hyunjin in Scooby Doo pajamas and gap between his teeth. (Contrary to your previous convictions, he hasn't changed all at much, save for the teeth bit. ) It's cute.

He looks to you expectantly. Can't be the only one telling embarrassing stories.

You shrug, "I had a thing for Simba. Let's just say my mum and dad were nice enough to indulge me."

Hyunjin reaches for the remote and pauses the ending credits of Lady and the Tramp. He turns to you fully now, gives you a judgemental stare. "Simba...?" He says, "Like the...lion?"

"What? It's normal to crush on fictional characters, okay?!"

"Okay,sure," Hyunjin snorts, putting a pillow between you and him so you can't kill him. "furry."

A part of you is tempted, obviously. But the much bigger part is more invested in how he looks happier, healthier. You want to think that means something.

—

Hyunjin invites you over for movie night. It's getting colder and you keep poking him with your cold feet. There's an extra set of blankets in his cupboard, he informs you, he isn't sharing his with you — and that's when you see it.

The deflated pink donut folded to the side, his and yours sharpie inscribed initials on one side. 

"Found it yet?"

You don't even notice when he comes to stand behind you. So the question effectively makes you jump out of your skin. Hyunjin has a bowl of popcorn pressed to his chest, there's a pink hair band holding his hair away from his forehead. For the lack of a answer he takes it on himself to find the source of your silence. As if you've been caught red handed.

You think this is where he'll ask you to leave, that or he'll least scold you or something. You prepare for the worst.

Hyunjin just smiles, it's a big smile that succeeds in bringing out the small dimple indented on the side of his cheek. You've never noticed before. It's kinda weird. Because when it comes to him, your attention hardly ever falters.

"You probably don't remember. That’s from Seungmin's 15th birthday,"

You want to scoff under your breath. All this time you had told yourself that you were the only one to be affected by your estranged friendship growing up. Now...the same logic colours you every bit of ridiculous. 

You blink away, swallowing. Voice solemn.

"I remember." Hyunjin's gaze is heavy on your shoulders. An emotion you can't quite put a finger on crosses his delicate features. It's something between surprise and relief... something else too. You don’t understand it. 

—

It's disconcerting that he can’t remember the last time he got sick. Not the usual discomfort inside his chest, not the blood, not the thorns or petals. Hyunjin's just gotten so used to it, you know? What if he gets his hopes up for no good reason? What if it just comes back?

There's no possible explanation, he explains over a hasty 3 A.M message he had to leave on your answering machine because he's freaking out.

Then Haseul texts Hyunjin, tells him she misses him. Everything's adding up. Everything's falling into place. This is what he wanted, isn't it? She loves him, she finally loves him back. That must be it. He doesn't know what to say. 

But he tells you, and when he does, it sounds a lot like an apology.

— 

Kiss underneath a mistletoe. 

“Chan and I broke up.” She says it like it’s something he should be happy about. So when he remains quiet, it only prompts her to speak more, fill up the big mighty silences. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Look Jinnie, I know I made a mistake, but...can’t you give a second chance? Just this once?”

Hyunjin has thought about this particular moment a lot. Kissing her instead of producing a response, pulling her off of her feet and mumbling of course, of course, of course. Back then, there were little doubts in his head pertaining to her, back then he believed that she was the only one for him. The love of his life at the wrong time, in the wrong place.

Now...something doesn’t feel right. 

The thing about wounds, sometimes, of the heart in particular, is when they close up, it’s hard to make head or tails of the kind of person you become in their wake. Hard to adjust. Like when he suddenly shot up 7 inches in ninth grade, a late bloomer at that, and the weight of his new sneakers felt..odd.

He glances at her and also understands what it’s like to be lonely, the constant need to compensate for it by grasping at the last straw. He used to be in her shoes too. This isn’t any different.  Albeit, he isn’t exactly taken by her presence. Just that he doesn’t know if what he’s doing is right. He looks over your table a few feet away from where he’s standing. Having gone out to take a call. You notice his absence and then from your seat, do your best to locate him. (he thinks of kissing you on a bed of snow, thinks of the sizzle of your skates against ice, thinks of his list on a coffee cup and his pink water donut and it’s okay to be scared. Why did it have to be you of all people, through everything? It’s not really a work of coincidence. Not at all actually.

  Maybe he just wanted it to be you.)

When your eyes do lock...seeing him with his hands in his pockets, her standing beyond the barrier as she tries to say something, you smile, even if it’s a little sad. Hyunjin thinks to the conversation some nights before. Thinks of you reminding him that there's nothing to lose at this point, that he should do what his heart tells him. That it’ll be alright, if he just takes a leap of faith. Hyunjin smiles back. Through the glassy exterior and mini water fountains running down its slanted form. The realisation is not as dramatic as he thought. It’s just late.

 He tears off the false mistletoe decoration glued along the periphery of an arch.

And like always.

He takes your advice.

— 

Cohorts of guests pour into the colossal hotel, heads turning in quiet admiration for bejeweled arches breaking out against buttery white architecture, the roof is impossibly naked, translucent glass baring a starlit sky to your watchful eyes. Showing little mercy to a frail chute held over your head,costumed characters wade through oceans of gossamer, twinkling silver and swaying movements to slow jazz. You prop a heeled foot up on the bar platform, which strangely resembles a pedestal, in a futile attempt to catch your breath, with clammy digits settled atop the risky surface of a marbled counter. A soft voice speaks over the ambience, uttering your name with much care. You lift your head. And there he is.

Jisung is scouring through the Spotify playlist you’ve put together for New Year’s Eve. He’s complaining about the lack of Beyoncé while your friends go around the buffet table. When he calls you, you’re sipping your drink, laughing at something Changbin is saying, his eyes brighten just at the sound of your laugh.  Hyunjin isn’t surprised to see his friend taking a liking of you even though he hardly knows you. That’s just the effect you have on people.

Excusing yourself, you allow him to walk you to a less densely populated area where a stone pillar faces expensive paintings of nameless painters. With the effect of alcohol settling in and your inhibitions effectively lowered, your steps sway a little. You lean against the massive build rising from tiled floor. “So what’s up?” you murmur, the lump in your throat thickening just at the thought of him speaking the good news into existence. “I take it went well?”

 Hyunjin doesn't answer. He looks distracted for a bit. Then in an instant he snaps out of his daze. “What did you mean when you said ‘once’?”

Your brows come together in inquiry.

“What?”

"When I asked you if you have ever been in love, you said ‘once’." He persists, his fingers come up to your shoulder, grazing slightly as if they’re trying to carve out words against the skin. "You weren’t talking about Jeongin.”

He knows. He’s always known. Hyunjin can’t believe he’s been so stupid.

“Took you long enough.” You let out a sardonic laugh.“Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

"It matters to me..." Hyunjin sounds offended, you gather, but he manages to quell his temper for the sake of coaxing your confession. Is he purposely embarrassing you?  "I don’t think...I love Haseul anymore...I didn’t realise...I haven’t for a long time."  

A big chandelier beams over withering plants pushed against the ceiling, in this poor supply of light, you can tell exactly how he looks, eyes glimmering adoringly, you've spent something-teen years of your life wondering what it's supposed to mean. And it still manages to confuse you.

"Why are you telling me this?" you ask, albeit you already know.  Because funnily enough, before he got his braces removed and dyed his hair a scandalous blonde, before bucket lists and heartbreak, he was just the boy who told you he liked your stupid reindeer sweater even though it had officially made you the 7th grade laughing stock. You remember being fifteen and in love with Hyunjin. And you've never actually stopped. You need to hear it to believe it.

It drives you crazy. The way Hyunjin brushes his fingers against your cheek, shifting strands away from your eyes. But you can't help it, you've always wanted this. You lean into the caress, peering up at him as his large hand cups your jaw, thumb traversing from your tilted chin to your glossy lips like he's trying to smooth out all the creases. His voice is small, a whisper.

"Because I need you to know I think I’m falling in love with you.” he says. His palm opens and there’s a plastic mistletoe nestled between his fingers. You’re smiling and sniffling whilst his forehead comes to press against yours. Hyunjin grins. “And there’s still one last item on my list.”

“Are you seriously asking me to land one on you now?”

“Oh hell yeah.”

— 

"Move."

You press your fingers against the slick, sweaty skin.

In rebuttal, Hyunjin grumbles under his breath. Only half awake, half aware that he was mumbling in his sleep. His naked chest seems to be, if it’s even possible, glued to your bare front as he sprawls out like a starfish over your body, using his gangly arms to accommodate the strange position.

Though and you know he knows it too — it’s anything but uncomfortable.

See by now, you aren't exactly a stranger to Hyunjin's sleeping habits. Or really, any habits of his.

All the windows are cracked open, moonlight percolating through a thin sheet of curtains in rendering evidence that it’s still night time. You can make out the faint sound of  honking in the distance, a few stray dogs here and there, probably producing strings of complaints about the blatantly unbearable heat.

The strong stench of sweat and an aftermath of what happened before is a quick reminder of where you are, what you’re doing and that your arm’s going cold for a lack of circulation under his weight. Beads of sweat collected against his skin and trickle down the side of your face, the crook of your neck, which only prompts you to apply more force to the pads of your index and pointer — albeit it did nothing to move him, "Gross." You groan. "You're sweating like a pig!"

This comment, of all the things you've tried to get him to sleep on his side, succeeds in making Hyunjin raise his head, his grey hair matted down, a few rogue strands pushed out to fall over the unamused look in his eyes.

In an unprecedented minute of absolute clarity, something inside your stomach started to churn at the shocking sight. You’re impossibly, absolutely and nauseatingly in love with Hwang Hyunjin and the funny thing is, you don’t have to think twice to know he is too.

"Gross?" Hyunjin lowers his face to brush his pouted lips along your jaw, grinning when you let out a shaky but involuntary breath and as if he is looking to make a point with his digits traversing from your bare stomach, just along the hem of your underwear,   "After all that?"

"I hate you." You say — but more like, stutter. The sound of his giggles eliciting a strange sensation in you, reverberating against your chest, knocking against his ribs and your skin, like it’s trying to reach out to you, like your bodies insist on melding into one.

"I don’t think you’re being honest, baby." He laughs, squeezing your side, coming up to plant a warm palm to your butt to repeat the action, which in turn, drew a mewl from you. “Because you looove me.” Hyunjin smirks, his finger thumbing along your throat to your chin. You think this is what all those great poets meant in endless litanies of lovers torn apart by time and war woven together in a simple caress, like a longing, like a secret. Guarded from prying eyes, greedy hands, and you keep it, you keep it. For him. With him.

[antiloreolympus]

7 Anti LO Asks

1. Do you know what really gets my blood boiling about this comic? Persephone and Demeter's relationship.

In the myths, Demeter and Persephone loved each other more than anything. Their reunion is so important - it marked the coming of spring and growth. A whole cult was dedicated to this for crying out loud. Yes, the myths were far from perfect, but the Persephone and Demeter myth showed the strength of a loving mother-daughter relationship with Demeter searching endlessly to find her child that was ripped away and had her innocence forcibly taken.

Now, RS is not the only author to make Demeter this over-bearing mother type in order to put more positivity onto the Hades-Persephone relationship. However, RS takes this trend to a whole new level - to the point where I would even consider it misogyny.

How is it, she takes this beautiful mother-daughter relationship and makes it out to be an abusive and controlling one, and then takes the Hades-Persephone relationship from a forceful one to a loving, perfect relationship with no problems? How is it ok to ruin one relationship to elevate another?

I understand that many versions of the myth try to downplay Hades' actions, and even make it so Persephone actually falls in love with him and there is no rape. But it doesn't change that this relationship was problematic, and meant to represent the loss of innocence.

Then fans have the gall to claim this comic is feminist and then claim on top of that that Demeter and Persephone's relationship was the same in the myth? These fans clearly don't know the myths, and neither does RS.

Making Hades a good person is fine. Changing it up a bit to make Persephone's loss of innocence something else is also fine. But ruining Demeter and Persephone's relationship? Especially when Persephone has to spend half the year with her? So horrible. 

2. im sorry, but rachel cant introduce KRONOS coming back and then dropping it for several episodes to focus on a stake-less trail and persephone not knowing what lingerie to seduce hades in. like thats too much of an earth shaking development and huge stake plot point to just ignore for months to focus instead on something as minor as hxp's relationship, which only points out a huge flaw: why is hxp's relationship so minor in this? isnt the whole point supposed to be about them?

3. I think LO completely dropped the ball over Hades’ characterization. 

From the first ep I thought ok, this is good, we have some bones to see he’s not that lucky in love and is just tired and lonely, and while ignoring the creepy actions towards Persephone, I thought ok, Artemis hates him, Hestia hates, even Ares hates him, maybe once Persephone finally sees the underworld and probably gets to know him it’ll be a clever twist and they’ll be proven wrong. The underworld will turn out to be fair and just, the citizens will love Hades, he’ll be revealed to be a good leader and king and not like his brothers, it’ll be like everyone saying Hades of myth isn’t actually that bad, and it’ll help reinforce why this sweet and bubbly Persephone wants him, she sees the real him, not the mean rumors and assumptions, this is perfect.

And then it just didn’t happen. The exact opposite happened, actually.

We’re shown the LO underworld is cruel and unjust, where the poor dead are forced into slavery and Hades created a harsh class divide with him and him only on top, the citizens hate him, the underworld gods don’t trust him and openly seem ok if he’s taken out of power, he’s not a good leader and king and doesn’t even want the job yet keeps it for his own ego and grip of power m, and on top of it all he is just like his brothers, if not worse. He loves to get violent over any little slight against him, he hoards wealth and resources to enrich himself while his citizens starve and struggle to survive, he’s corrupt, he controls all the media and laws to bend to his will, sleeps with his brothers wife for centuries behind his back while claiming to be holier than thou, he has sex with his secretaries who are made dependent on him for any way to survive, and now he lusts after his barely legal intern who is also now dependent on him for her way to survive, and that’s only what I remember off the top of my head.

LO perfectly set up to prove Hades isn’t the devil or the false pop culture assumption that he’s evil and to show some actual facts from myth, and yet Rachel only ended up reinforcing exactly that and even making him even worse with her made up ideas, all while thinking having Persephone ignore or excuse it somehow makes it not bad or even a good thing. It’s honestly kind of impressive just how bad of writing that actually is. 

4. Chapter 172 is not that interesting. It’s setup had me excited to see Hephaestus and Hera and learning more about echo, but it’s cut so short. Because again the story can’t leave HXP out for 2 seconds.

I can also see why Zeus is gonna go insane. 

5. i agree w/ other anon. LO should have pulled a PJO or a BoZ and just made up OCs and have them interact with the gods than whatever Rachel thinks shes doing, which is lying she's being accurate and faithful while completely changing all of it, removing what is needed, and adding what isnt so that it lines up with no actual myth besides like, various 50 shades fanfic she read in 2015 and some popular tumblr text posts.

6 . the animation studio behind blood of zeus literally can only draw one face for the men and one face for the women and they were still able to make the gods all look distinct and hot while LO can't even bother to use more than 6 colors and can only have the women look as tiny as possible with the biggest boobs while the men are all just lego men.

7. ////FP SPOILERS////

Okay so like I stopped reading LO way back before season 1 ended, and a majority of my knowledge of the series comes from what I read here on your blog which is enough for me lol and I decided to read the latest 5 chapters just to see what's up (on zahard. I refuse to give the actual series any views)

And I just. Could not take the whole scene with Daphne running from Apollo seriously? The anatomy and art inconsistency was so distracting that i genuinely could not find it serious. Even when Thanatos discovers her hibernated body I couldn't take it seriously because of how she looked?

And when Hades had that call (??? Was it a call? Or his inner dialogue? I couldn't really tell ngl) with Zeus and said he's causing Persephone unnecessary distress, and that she didn't pose any threat. B!tch??? She killed a ton of mortals??? She has no control over her powers???? She's literally a fugitive for the aforementioned things??? She apparently woke Kronos up? (Idk if anyone knows about that, again my knowledge only spans to whatever I read here) Hello????

And I have a lot to say about the chapters starting the trial but I'll only mention one thing; Hades saying "I don't think blindly supporting my little brother would be doing him any favours (as a ruler)" had me cackling. This is coming from a guy blindly supporting a girl he's literally only known for a few weeks, who's like what, only recently turned 20? Sit tf down Hades you're not cool, you creepy ass overgrown smurf.

Overall I still hate this series lmao. Regarding art though I feel like I wouldn't be so miffed about the anatomy much if the character designs were consistent and the story was compelling. They literally change hairstyles and body types frame by frame, and it's distracting.

The timeline from what I read here is laughable. 4 years in publication with almost 200 chapters and you're telling me only like a month has passed canonically. That's wild and such poor writing.

And as someone who literally will sympathise with any lead character pretty quickly, the story makes me hate them. It makes me want to root against them. I also hate the fact this trash is somehow top ranked on webtoons when so many other stories are far better then it.

Anyway, many thanks to this blog for existing and allowing me to dump so much text here to vent out my hate for this series lmao. You the mvp fam, hope you're having a good day 🥂🥂🥂