#anyways you Will see content from this movie on your dash

[fan-kingdoms]

also hi everyone i just wanted to let y’all know that i apologize in advance for the person i am going to become post-wicked movie. you will know no rest. i will cry over cynthia erivo on command right now.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which the sweet ache of yearning metamorphoses into the art of intimacy and knowing.

idol!jk x reader, est. relationship / fluffy fluff, a dash of angst, explicit content (minors dni!!) / word count: 10.5k

warnings/content: divided into seven parts. it’s like a timeline hehe <3 ; mainly in jk’s pov!! ; underaged drinking (oc is 18 in that part but the legal age of drinking in sk is 19 so!) ; mention of almost? n*des (neither sent by our mcs) ; making out ; thigh grinding ; brief or*l (f. rec + allusions to m. rec) ; mention and allusion to s*x [yesyes it’s the first time] [oc may or may not cry a little too…] ; they have a ‘what if i die before you?’ discourse lmao

playlist! restless - bibi ; lily of the valley - daniel ; who do you love - the black skirts ; intro (end of the world) - ariana grande ; snow - josh makazo

> in which masterlist!

note: look at my gorjus ethereal bf !!!! anyway… hi, i’m back ^_^ here’s my not so little offering to those who’s been missing the iw couple <3 as always i’d love to hear your thoughts :") come chat!!

—

I. THE FALLING

“just stay the night.” you blurt out, turning to jungkook to express your worry. “i can’t let you leave right now. it’s not safe.”

his wide eyes scan the headline of the news once more.

heavy snowfall, road accident, several injured… versus staying the night at the apartment of not quite his friend, not quite his lover, for the first time.

he can’t deny that he favors the latter over the former with an explicable feeling rendering him breathless. still, he can’t allow his enthusiasm to cloud his better judgement. he knows he’s still somewhat of a stranger to you. he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome or make you feel uncomfortable in your own space.

“are you sure you’re comfortable with it?”

“sure. should i be worried?“

“no! uhm, i just thought not everyone would be comfortable to have a person they’re not very close with to sleep over.”

you chuckle, lightly bumping your shoulder against his. “chill. i have bigger things to be scared of than the guy who just cried with me while watching an anime movie.”

oh… he thought you were too absorbed in wiping your own tears to notice him crying too.

he slumps back on the sofa with a sigh. “i see. i guess we’re left with no choice then.”

“i have an extra toothbrush!”

—

jungkook doesn’t quite understand people’s obsession with his eyes, but getting enamored by the innocence that yours seem to glisten with, he wonders if he is experiencing the same case.

“can you see if this fits you?”

you stand before him with a stack of neatly folded clothes, unraveling a pair of gray sweatpants to hold up infront of him.

“i think… there’s a string? oh, there’s none.”

he chuckles. “you forgot?”

“well, it’s not mine. my ex never came back for his clothes.“ you huff with a roll of your eyes, muttering a silent his loss into the air. “i’ve washed it though! don’t worry! it’s just- you know- sleeping in denim pants is uncomfortable.”

does that mean you still wear the clothes of your exes? this pisses him off for some unknown reason. he would much rather sleep uncomfortably than wear their clothes.

you kindly smile, pushing the black knitted sweater against his chest. “but this is mine. it’s really warm and comfortable!”

but on another note, you’re too sweet and thoughtful. how could he ever say no?

—

the sweatpants is a little loose around his waist. your sweater, however, feels incredibly soft against his skin. as he walks back into the living room, he pulls down his sweater paws and runs his hands across its sleeves. if he had to describe the feeling it evokes, he would say it is very much similar to rolling around on freshly washed and dried bedsheets.

“it’s nice, right?”

he whips his head around upon hearing the sound of your voice. for a quick second, you caress his arm with the back of your hand, and even with the barrier separating your skin from his, the casual touch causes his breath to hitch.

“i finished cleaning the room. i set up a comforter on the floor so you can take the bed.”

“is that so? thank you!”

he zooms past you. you’re left standing alone, blinking in confusion. he is more than happy to welcome himself into your bedroom… so he can slyly steal the bed you prepared for yourself. he slides under the covers, makes himself all cozy with his hands resting on the back of his head as if it’s not a raging winter and he’s lying under the summer sun.

“and what do we have here?”

jungkook cracks one eye open. there you are leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed. you raise your eyebrows at him, demanding an answer.

“what?” he smiles childishly. “you’re the one doing me a favor. i’m not going to let you sleep on the floor.”

“how polite. suit yourself, sir.” you shake your head in amusement, smiling.

you enter the room, flicking the lightswitch off and locking the door at the speed of light. without thinking, probably; muscle memory formed by your routine. he is the only thing not a part of it. yet.

“goodnight, jungkook.”

“goodnight.”

he still sees you moving around in the dark. you crouch down beside him and he feels the extra pillow he’s partially crushing under his weight be jerked away all of a sudden.

“i need this one. sorry.” you whisper-shout apologetically. “goodnight! sweet dreams!”

—

jungkook sighs, tired of mindlessly scrolling through social media. his eyes flutter shut as he allows his phone to collapse on his chest. he is yet to even figure out if going to work later would be possible because of the blocked roads. he has gotten enough earful about not heading straight to the dorm and he cannot risk any more. because then, he would have to see less of you.

he sneakily opens his eyes, craning his head to the side to steal a glance of you, but he finds that you’ve already fallen asleep on your textbook and he’s unable to look away again. bathed in the warm light of the lampshade on your bedside, he has never seen you more peaceful. he learns with hard evidence that you’re a side sleeper, curled up underneath the blanket and cutely snuggled against the pillow you took from him.

he doesn’t know how long he’s been admiring you, but he knows he doesn’t want you to think of him as a creep. you stir in your sleep and his hand swiftly flies to his phone. pretending to be absorbed in reading the first tweet he comes across, he tries taking another subtle glimpse of you.

it’s as if he’s been caught and punished.

he flinches.

your textbook collides with the floor, landing only inches next to his pillow. he begins sweating. he could’ve easily gotten a concussion at best, death at worst.

he sits up with his elbows anchoring him, poking around to investigate the cause of the fall. admittedly, he’s a little sad to see your back now facing him.

“shit, what am i doing?” he roughly rubs his face to knock some sense back into him.

he needs to get some sleep. yeah, that’s it. nothing more.

he picks up your textbook, taking it upon himself to bring it over to your desk. on his way back, he also decides to to turn off the lampshade.

his finger freezes on the button, however. he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip to silence the giggle that threatens to escape him— so fucking endeared to discover that you’ve kicked off your blanket and rolled over to your other side along with the pillow, your thigh carelessly slumped over it.

he tucks himself back into bed, heart feeling all warm and fuzzy.

“so, so adorable.”

the words escape him without thought; the smile on his face ever-present even as he drifts off to dreamland.

—

II. ALLOW ME TO LINGER BY THE DOOR

“hey, it’s getting late. shouldn’t you be heading home by now?”

you sit beside jungkook on the sofa after a phone call, and his round eyes grow twice their size when you steal the iced tea from his grasp, nonchalant as your lips wrap around the same red straw his have been only seconds ago.

he awkwardly clears his throat, perhaps to mask his loud heartbeat. “is your friend okay?”

“oh, she’ll be fine. it’s her fault so i can’t do much for her this time.” you shrug, picking up your chopsticks as you eye the last dumpling in the bowl. “still hate that guy, though.”

“the one you think is lying about being rich?”

“i don’t know much about real ones, but i’m pretty sure i’ve seen enough fake diamonds!”

that seems to hits the right spot to elevate your mood. you hum happily as you chew, collapsing on the cushions and looking straight ahead at the television screen.

“sorry about that. you must be bored and tired by now.”

“about that…” jungkook swallows his nervousness. he rests his arm on top of the sofa, just to act cool. he’s so close to you yet still so distant. “i’m dead tired from filming today. i’ve been up since four in the morning. would it be too much trouble if i spend the night again?”

“i should be the one asking you that. why do you like this trashy place way more than i do?” you shake your head, wiping your mouth with a paper napkin. “i’ll go fix up so you can rest then. you’re lucky minji didn’t claim the bed first.”

fuck, he was supposed to get kicked out?

“wait! do you need a change of clothes?”

“there’s no need!” he replies a little too quickly. if he has to wear the clothes of another one of your exes, he might end up on the news for setting himself on fire. “i have extras in my backpack i didn’t got to wear today.”

“oh, okay.” you flash him a smile before disappearing into the bedroom.

yeah, how convenient.

he exhales through his mouth.

when did he start lying? his mother would be very disappointed in him. but on the other hand, his father would explode in boisterous laughter and pat him on the back. nevermind… that just makes it worse.

“guess i’m going to hell!” he shrugs, wearing a smile that is rather too jubilant.

he grabs his backpack on the floor and heads to the bathroom; your home is another home away from home.

—

jungkook is exhausted from dance practice. he must’ve exerted himself too hard again without realizing it. for the third time this week, he’s attaching pain relief patches to his neck and shoulders, shirt pulled to the side as to expose the area. normally, he’d just take it off without care, but he’s in a different setting. while he’s pretty confident with the current condition of his body, it would be rude to strip out of nowhere. and you make him nervous. would he fluster you or would you fluster him? he’s not prepared to find out yet.

“are you okay?”

his movements from below capture your attention amidst catching up to the events in your group chats.

“i’m okay, just a little sore. don’t worry!” he waves off your concern with a scrunch of his nose. “i also fell asleep in the car earlier so…”

“i can give you a massage. if you want.”

“no, it’s fine.” even though the offer sounds extremely tempting, especially coming from you. “i know you’re tired too.”

“hm, your loss. i’m kind of an expert at it.”

he squints his eyes at you. “really?”

“you don’t believe me?”

you sit up on the bed with an offended gasp, and he laughs at how you quite literally rose up to the challenge.

“we do have actual experts come in and take care of us too, you know that?”

“excuse you, i’m an actual expert! i have more than a decade of experience!”

he isn’t surprised to witness you climb down immediately afterwards, sitting behind him with your hands already on his shoulders.

“hmm, my dad worked at construction sites. my mom had a desk job. this- this was my job.” your fingers begin pressing down as if you’re assessing him, touching the bare skin of his still exposed shoulder. “got paid with extra allowance. making money was easy back then.”

“you’re so adorab- ah, ah, ah-” his sentence is cut short by his own self when you apply pressure on a big knot, gently massaging it in small circles to loosen the tightly wound muscle fibers. “fuck, it hurts… yeah, that’s good. don’t stop.”

he hears you snort, feels your forehead collapse on his back as vibrant giggles rack your body. a blush of red creeps up to his cheeks and he’s thankful that you can’t see his face.

he laughs along, belly aching. “okay, okay- i heard it! i should keep my mouth shut!”

“no no no, i won’t laugh anymore!”

“you’re still doing it right now!”

“i’ll stop!” you sniffle, laughed to the point of tears. you squeeze his shoulders. “just relax! you’re so tense here, see? no wonder it hurts.”

there’s no denying that his body is pushed to its limits everyday; he has grown accustomed of this kind of lifestyle and he doesn’t complain. you’re making him want to do it all the time, though. if it means getting pampered like this? hell yeah.

“it hurts here too. over- over here-” he reaches a hand to his back, patting the area that has been bothering him all day. “this part. will you make it go away, please?”

“here? your shoulder blade?”

“yes!”

“okay. tell me if i should go gentler or harder. i don’t want to hurt you.”

it’s his turn to snort. he shortly learns that was not a smart move.

“ah, ah, ah-” you pull at his ear and this time he moans in pain. “oh, come on! you gave that one away!”

“shut up! you’re not allowed to laugh too!”

—

he tries not to create more embarrassing sounds. at some point he begun to busy himself with his phone, but to no avail, there are occasional moans and grunts he can’t bite down because you weren’t lying about being a pretty damn good masseur. and then he does it on purpose once, just to hear you laugh again, because his being already feels a million times lighter and you show no signs of exhaustion or boredom.

“you have a mole here,” you casually observe. he feels a light touch on the side of his neck and the butterflies in his stomach become untamed. “it’s sexy.”

he blushes, caught off guard by the compliment. “thank you.”

“you’re welcome.” you hum.

the minutes pass by and he is no longer faking silence, however. all he can think about now is how he wishes that he was lying down for this. how long has it been? you’ve been definitely at it for almost an hour. he yawns, eyelids fighting to stay open but failing miserably.

“hey, wipe your drool.”

he blinks. your beautiful face greets him— for a second, he’s convinced that he has begun dreaming. with a mischievous grin, you lift the collar of his shirt to wipe the corners of his lips, and in a state of near delirium, he cackles.

“seriously, thank you… i-i don’t even know what to say. i really needed that.” he sighs, carelessly rubbing his heavy eyes. “i’ll treat you to dinner tomorrow. how about that?”

“sounds good. now go to sleep.” you pat his back before rising on your feet. “your head kept on dropping and i felt bad.”

“that happens a lot.”

“well, it’s bad for your neck. keep doing it and i’ll get more free dinners.”

the unmistakable sound of a kiss that follows, it suspiciously matches with the warmth that lingers on his cheek.

“goodnight!”

“goodnight…” he only manages to mumble.

his mind has gone off to space. you tuck yourself into your bed after turning off the lampshade while jungkook feels like he just got blasted to the moon. he needs to get out of here. STAT.

“i’ll go drink some water. do you want me to get you a glass?”

“no, i’m fine.”

he makes out your figure shuffling in the dark, snuggled closely to a pillow.

he nods, which you probably didn’t even see. he steps out of the room as quietly as possible, slowly closing the door as to produce the smallest click. he pads to the kitchen still feeling light, almost like he’s walking on a path made out of clouds. he pours himself a glass of cold water from the fridge, chugs it down to the very last drop.

he licks his lips as he sets down the glass on the counter. he sighs deeply. he can still feel the outline of your lips, sticky lip balm printed on his skin. is it normal that he couldn’t be bothered to wipe it off?

“totally worth going to hell for.” he muses, unaware of the smirk that has started playing on his lips.

he briskly washes the glass at the sink, wiping it dry with a towel before deposting it back into the rack.

as expected, you’ve already fallen asleep by the time that he returns. the light from the hallway casts a glow over your face and it’s a sight that is painfully intimate in its own peculiar way.

he can’t put a name to it, but whatever this feeling is, he likes it and he wants it to last.

and so, he lingers by the door for a few seconds more.

—

III. THE YEARNING

jungkook hisses your name with yet another curse, heart so close to jumping out of his chest. when you were on the phone incoherently begging him to take you home from the club, he expected to carry out a passed out person from his car to their apartment floor, which he found no problem with aside from the possibility of having to deal with them throwing up.

instead, he is struck by an unusual combination of amusement and distress. he has been running around trying to capture you as you spend your final bursts of energy ringing strangers’ doorbells. your exhilarated laughter echoes throughout the hallways. he must confess that he was laughing along with you the first time… until it started to get a little bit out of hand.

if someone recognizes him by chance, he would be beyond fucked.

“don’t- don't do it! stop it! please!” he finally manages to seize your wrist before it can reach another, forced to wrap his arms around your torso so you won’t escape from him again. “are you crazy? it’s 3am! people are sleeping!”

“that’s the point.” you mewl, looking back to him with a childish pout underneath the hood of your coat. “why are they sleeping? it’s when the ghosts come out. does no one ever think about ghosts’ feelings? because i do! if i were a ghost, i’d be lonely and crying right now!”

oh my god, what is happening?

“so let’s invite them and everyone for more drinks!” you jump up and down, his secure hold doesn’t hold a candle to your hypernese. “jungkook, i want to drink more! more more more! buy me!”

unfortunately, he doesn’t have the time to dwell on your cuteness. he hears a door click from behind and his instincts instantaneously kick in. oh shit, you actually fucking woke someone up. he sweeps you off your feet, clasping a hand over your mouth to mute your angry protests. he turns at a corner, trapping you against the wall.

a deep and manly voice fills the silence. “hello? who’s there?”

two pairs of eyes widen, staring at each other as if they can read minds through them. he notices the unsteady rise and fall of your chest; your heart must be beating as fast as his. he has to pull down his black mask to be able to breathe.

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he grumbles with a pointed look.

when you smile, he perceives it first through the palm of his hand before it reaches your eyes. only then does he fully register the dangerously close proximity between you.

dangerous because he wants to kiss you.

dangerous because you’d dare him to do it and his self-control has been reduced to a million cracks.

“ah, this prank again! fucking teenagers!”

and the door slams shut. you both flinch.

“that guy has a fridge full of beer!”

you are vexed, voice muffled but still clearly loud. you harshly paw at his forearm to remove his hand, and your pout finally comes into view.

“no, you’ve had enough! seriously, what am i going to do with you? huh? you shouldn’t even be drinking at all.” he blows a loud breath, frustratedly running his fingers through his hair. “how did you even get in the club? fake id? you have it, don’t you?”

you rush to defend yourself. “i’m only younger by a year and i don’t look like it! as if they actually care in those places. they only want money.”

he begins to question if the bloodshot of your eyes is solely because of the alcohol or you’re also on the verge of tears.

“why? are you mad at me?”

“no, i’m not mad. should i be?”

“…i don’t know. why do you even care about things like that? you’re not my boyfriend or my parent so i don’t need to explain myself to you.” you angrily ramble, wriggling out of the tight spot he had you trapped in.

and that felt like a fucking dagger to the heart.

“you know what? i-i can do this. i can take care of myself, so go home.”

“____, don’t be like this, please. you’re drunk.”

“i’m not drunk, just tipsy! you can go home!”

he runs after you, but you shrug him off and continue walking away, perhaps a little too fast. he curses himself when he catches up to you seconds too late, witnessing you fall over to the floor with a thump and a whimper.

“are you okay?! where does it hurt?!”

you shake your head profusely, but your hands gripping your ankle gives away the answers. he doesn’t press you further. without another word, he hooks an arm under your knees and the other under your back, swooping you from the floor. he stands up straight, adjusts your position slightly, and walks the path you attempted to travel alone in your intoxicated state.

perhaps he is mad. he went and abandoned his rest time when you said that you needed him, only for you to rudely send him home. he has the right to be mad, even just a little bit, despite the fact that he isn’t your boyfriend, right?

not that it matters.

you cling to his neck and it all melts away.

he glances down at you. a soft smile has replaced your frown. “oh, so now you’re happy again?”

“yes,” you tilt your head. “feels like i’m floating.”

“where’s your key?”

“huh?”

“your key-”

“oh!”

you dig out the item from the pocket of your coat. you proudly dangle it infront of his face along with the colorful keychains attached to it; the bear was gifted by yours truly from japan. he totally forgot that it existed. the last time he saw it was when he tossed it in the paper bag he gave you.

he’s not even your boyfriend. the two of you know that doesn’t make sense anymore.

—

after he sets you down on the sofa, he kneels on the floor to remove the heels from your aching feet. he gets the hang of it after unfastening the second strap. while he’s preoccupied, you strip off your coat to combat the increased temperature of your body.

“i need to pee.” you urgently kick off the heels as you rise on your feet.

jungkook looks up and forgets how to breathe. you are irresistibly gorgeous; the cherry red mid-thigh dress you’ve been hiding from him hugs your body so perfectly. he’s ensnared and thoroughly convinced that you’re aware of your power to leave men and women alike sweating and tongue-tied.

goddammit, he is mad. you were at the club looking like this among flashing lights and grinding bodies and he is not your boyfriend.

“doesn’t your ankle hurt?”

“doesn’t matter. i need to pee.”

he clicks his tongue as you limp your way towards the bathroom.

“you’re so hardheaded.”

he lifts up your arm to bring it over his shoulders; he holds your waist to assist you.

“and your heart is so soft.” you giggle, and his world stops when you hold his face… peppering his cheek with an amount of kisses he doesn’t have half the mind to count.

you said you’re not drunk, just tipsy. does that mean you genuinely like him this much and you’ll remember it when you wake up?

dear god, he hopes so.

—

jungkook is supposed to wake up in four hours. however, he’s still wide awake sitting by your pillow, mind completely blank on what he’s supposed to do now that you’re safe and sound. he can’t bring himself to leave just yet. you bump against his knee as you shuffle and squirm, eyes closed but yet to land in the confines of slumber. he can hear your rugged and frustrated breathing, can’t help but to hopelessly adore how pretty you are even with knitted eyebrows and tousled hair.

he likes you so much. he knows it hasn’t been that long since you met but the thought of losing the chance of winning you over makes him want to cry and throw a tantrum. you’re running in his mind day and night. you have permeated all his senses. you charm him with your unapologetic existence and you effortlessly captivate his ungiven affections.

when it comes to love, his passion becomes a weakness.

a whine emits from your parted lips as if you sense that something is wrong. your hands pat around the mattress— searching and searching, until they stumble upon him. you push yourself up, head landing on the pillow, and your arms, they hug him close by his waist. only then do you finally come to a still, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

you are at peace and he is experiencing an emotional turmoil— falling in love. this is simply not fair.

the lines are becoming so blurry. he is losing control of his hands, hyperaware of what he is capable with his possession of them. he strokes your head gently, hair brushing across his palm— this is soothing to him as much as it is you.

this feels right, he thinks. he wants time to stretch from this galaxy to another.

he feels a weak tug at his sweater.

“i’m cold now,” your complaint comes out mumbled against the thick fabric.

next thing he knows you’re pulling him down by his collar, leaving him with no choice but to lie down beside you as to not crush you under his weight. where the hell did you gather the strength to do that?!

he hisses in panic. “yah! what are you doing?”

“i’m cold,” you repeat.

“____, we’re lying down on the blanket. if you can just scoot over for a seco- i’ll take it out. move-”

his attempts on communicating to you only fall on deaf ears. he zips his mouth to admit defeat.

you cling to him for warmth, and jungkook finds himself giving more than that. he volunteers his arm to be your pillow, softly cupping the back of your head as you nuzzle your face on his chest; his other arm wraps around your torso to keep you close. it is quite a tight fit on a single bed— he figures out a lame excuse for later.

now he can say for certain that you’re hearing his heartbeat, but he doesn’t seem to care anymore. he also doesn’t mind the scent of alcohol because it’s tragically losing the battle against your sweet perfume. it renders him enchanted. and the dress… that hypnotizing dress. he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to banish the sinful thoughts flooding his imagination.

he didn’t peg you to be the physically affectionate type, but seeing that you can’t sleep without hugging something, someone— he wants to be just the thing that you cherish as your safe haven. he wants this memory to be cute… and romantic. but too much heavy on the romance, you affect his body and heart in ways no one can.

he tries to will his growing erection to ebb away. it’s not an appropriate situation. he likes and respects you too much.

“my makeup…”

you said it so quietly, he almost believed he was making it up in his head.

“what was that?”

“will you- please, will you help me take off my makeup? it’s bothering me.” you make one final request at the depths of drowsiness, speech slurred and stuttered. “the wipes… the drawer behind you.”

he should’ve thought of that. he’s learning. next time, he will.

he settles into his previous position after grabbing the wipes.

“how do i help? is it okay if i d-”

he interrupts his question when he realizes that you’ve finally fallen asleep.

his sigh momentarily fills the defeaning silence of the night. the exhaustion has also begun to take a toll on him. he’s going to have to catch up on sleep during car rides and set breaks. he’s already dreading it as he’s planning around their hectic schedule.

as he wipes off your makeup as carefully as possible, he mutters into the thin air. “you owe me a massage for this.”

—

IV. HAPPINESS OUTSIDE DAYDREAMS

“you’re my boyfriend now and you don’t sleep on the floor anymore. how cute is that?” you happily think out loud, swinging your feet dangling at the edge of the bed. “but if you want to go back to our old ways… my bed is small even for me.”

“no way. are you kidding?!” he jokingly protests in an angry manner. “your bed is perfect.”

jungkook is on cloud nine. it sure does feel good to hear you sound so happy calling him your boyfriend, even more so to reap its special privileges.

“i keep forgetting to ask. which side do you prefer?”

you’re sat facing the door. “i don’t know, but i’m used to sleeping here.”

“alright. i’ll stay here.” he climbs under the covers, spreading his arms once his back hits the mattress. the smirk on his face widens. “come here, baby.”

a grunt slips past his lips when you jump into his arms without warning, eventually falling over to the side when he moves to envelope you in his embrace.

“you’re so warm.” you purr in contentment as you bury your face against his chest. “i love cuddling so much.”

“i’ve noticed,” he replies. he softly squeezes your exposed thigh after you slump your leg over his hip to maximize your comfort. “your pillow must be softer than me though.”

“no, i like you more… cuddling is proven to have health benefits, you know?”

he quirks an eyebrow. “oh really? give me examples.”

“it releases happy chemicals in the brain… it apparently also helps to lower blood pressure and heart rate, and it-” you fail to stifle a sleepy yawn, hands grasping the cloth of his shirt and forming closed fists. “…improves one’s quality of sleep.”

“i can see it’s working well for you.” he chuckles.

“is it for you?”

“mhmm, yes,” he presses his lips to your forehead. “i’m happy. there’s only happy chemicals in my brain right now.”

jungkook means it wholeheartedly and it feels strange. he doesn’t feel happy in this moment alone. this happiness is colossal and there’s not nearly enough hours in a day to take it all in. this happiness will still be here when he wakes up tomorrow, and the day after that. this happiness stays with him even when you’re not physically present. you’ve turned him into an optimistic fool but it’s not always that he experiences an attraction this strong.

he’s smitten and he can’t hide it. the people who are around him everyday sees it on his face; he doesn’t even need to say it out loud. all that corny shenanigans about romance giving you a certain type of glow is apparently true, it turns out.

“kissing is said to have the same effects, actually.”

your coyness captivates him from his thoughts.

he draws back slightly, the glint of mischief in his eyes mirroring yours. “where do you learn these things?”

“through reading and experience.” you shrug innocently. “want to test that out too?”

you’re everywhere. he can taste your lips, your tongue; your body wash floods his sense of smell with a sweet and clean scent, plus something else he can’t quite name. he can only it describe as you. your hair is tangled in his fingers and your hands… so delicate and teasing with every touch, it feels like being electrified. it still feels incredibly chilly outside but heat is radiating off his skin. he needs to peel himself off you before he loses his last shred of self-control.

“baby…” he whispers, lips only a couple inches from yours. he takes your hand in a tender hold, placing it over his racing heartbeat. “i’m not sure about this one being good for my health.”

“but it is. you just burnt some calories.” you smile, wiping the sweat that has started to form on his forehead. “should we stop?”

he feels his cheeks become more flushed, but his craving for you has overtaken his shyness. he might as well be drunk; intoxicated by you.

“no.” he refuses, conflicted and almost pained. “i can’t…”

he gets rid of the distance between your lips once more, swallowing the first obscene moan he brings out of you.

—

V. THE SPRING FLOWER IN THE EYE OF THE STORM

although you know they held affection for you, the boys you’ve attracted in your life have made one thing clear: they see you as an object of desire, and you unintentionally play the part well. if you were going to make their wet dreams come true, then you ought to derive pleasure from it as well without shame.

but with jungkook, the tables have turned. you wore the same lipstick from last time to rile him up on purpose, but instead you’re the one stuck trying to recall a time you were this putty in somebody’s hands. you’re not in control— you expect this thought would make you spiral, but it doesn’t.

you stumble inside your apartment making out with your boyfriend and you have an orange azalea tucked behind your ear. his hand is in your mess of a hair and it protects your head from the impact of the wall as your back collides with it. you don’t know if it was on purpose or not but your heart flutters nonetheless. this is sickeningly romantic and you want to drown yourself in it.

“oh, feels good.” his mouth on your neck is addictive, you imagine it would be heavenly on more vulnerable parts of you. your nails harshly dig into his shoulder as he takes his time with every lick, every nip of his teeth— eager to learn more about your body and what makes it weak at the knees.

you tug at his hair with a whisper. “jungkook…”

“mhm? yes, baby?”

you thought you’ve seen and felt enough. you know about lust, but never felt a chemistry this electrifying. there’s an emotion screaming beneath the daze in jungkook’s eyes; it’s always been there, but not this loud. you think if you trust your gut and open yourself up… you might just come to gain an understanding of it.

you bite your bottom lip, behind it a shadow of a smile. “bedroom.”

his restless hands slide down to hook around your thighs, and not long after, your legs are wrapped around his waist as he navigates your apartment blinded by the mutual refusal of your lips to disconnect. you giggle every time he bumps into something and groans. with his fear of accidentally letting you fall felt through his tight grip, you’re the one who kicks the bedroom shut. the sound couldn’t have been louder than the pounding of your heart reaching your own ears.

jungkook is gentle as he lays you down on the bed, but your lack of inhibitions reign over you. you begin unbuttoning his shirt, unconsciously grinding your heat against his thigh as you do so. it catches him by surprise, but then his strong hands find purchase on your waist, and you know he wants this as much as you do.

the kiss is broken up by a moan when his grip falls to your hips, guiding your wild movements in chasing pleasure with a tenderness and sensuality that transforms you into a feverish mess. another gush of arousal ruins your underwear worse. you kiss him again and eventually you lose count of the buttons— patience runs thin and with adrenaline rushing through your veins, you tear his shirt apart.

he hisses. “baby, shit- what did y-”

“shhh,” you place an index finger over his lips.

he chuckles raspily, shaking his head in disbelief. your giggles join him, equally amused with yourself.

it’s still for a few seconds, but you can hear each other breathe in the dark. you’ve seen him naked but his silhouette alone stirs the fuel spreading throughout your body. he’s perfect. your lips reclaim the place of your finger. your hands caress every inch of his skin, every curve of his flesh they can reach. he doesn’t make an effort to hold his noises and it turns you on more, if that is even possible at this point. his muscles continue to tense under your touches, even worse when you find his nipples to tease and play with. he’s perfect.

“it’s my turn.” he tries to say in the middle of the kiss, but you don’t hear a thing until he’s pulling away breathless and you’re whining in disappointment. “let me return the flavor please? i’ve been going crazy thinking about it. fuck, please.”

you sit up on the bed, pushing his naked chest challengingly. “what? you want to eat me out?“

he swallows, wide scandalized eyes failing to escape your keen observation. “i do.”

you watch him watch you strip off your sweater, “really…?” and then unclasp your bra, allowing its straps to provocatively slide down your shoulders.

“ye-yes, really.”

“then what’s stopping you?”

he whines out your name, interrupting himself with his craving for another kiss as he slips off your bra completely. it gets lost on the floor along with your sweater and you smirk deviously against his lips. “you’re testing me like this, huh? you’re so mean.”

you lie on your bed but you feel like you’re on top of the world. jungkook scatters kisses from your neck down to your chest, occasionally licking and biting as if he can’t help but to taste you. he uncovers another ticklish spot along your ribcage, but you bite your lip to control your giggles. instead, you touch his face to subtly guide him away from it.

he nuzzles his cheek against your palm, eyelids fluttering close as he presses a soft kiss to your wrist.

“may i?”

the shape of his lips lingers there. no one has ever kissed your wrist, nor have you ever imagined the first time to take place in bed.

your thumb strokes his cheek tenderly. the silence that follows there after concerns jungkook. he calls out your name, snapping you out of deep thought.

“may i?” he repeats himself.

he is patiently suspended over the waistband of your skirt. ever the gentleman, you half-smile.

“will you fuck me good after?”

the hand on his face sneaks down to pull up the skirt over your stomach; an even tinier piece of fabric covers the most intimate part of your body.

“whatever you want, baby, i will do it.” he promises.

you can hear the smirk in his voice, but you’re unable to form another response as his tongue laves over the lace, the warmth and wetness saturating through and stimulating your clit— once, slowly, and then over and over again.

you gasp, jolting and squirming in pleasure. he only makes it worse when he hums and you feel the vibration against you. you whine and he squeezes the soft flesh of your inner thighs in an attempt soothe you, keep you still, nuzzling his cheek as he meets your heated gaze.

“relax… is my baby always this sensitive?” he places a chaste kiss over your clit, causing your breath to hitch. “‘cause i’ve barely started.”

“jungkook,” you impatiently whine. “why’d you stop? just do it, please- need you.”

you’d wipe off that stupid smirk on his face if only you weren’t so pent up and you didn’t need his tongue.

“wow… didn’t think you’re the type to beg.” he muses, more so talking to himself. “i like it.”

hell no, you’re not.

but finally, he dives in, greedily pulling aside the flimsy material for a real taste of you. instead of a sharp remark, erotic sounds between a moan and a sob emit from your lips. your toes curl at the surge of mind-numbing ecstasy overwhelming your body. your hands fisting the sheets fly to his hair, frantically tugging like you can’t take it, but you beg and beg and beg him for more.

—

the last time you had sex was more than four months ago. you realized that you liked jungkook, and you simply didn’t want to do it with anybody else. sexual frustration combined with the romantic pining for a man that could potentially ruin your life; your youth has been nothing short of eventful.

has sex always been this good? you can’t remember. you’re drunk on pleasure even in the aftermath; you’re not sure if you’re really here or floating someplace else. as you catch your breath, jungkook soothes your body with gentle kisses and strokes of your skin, whispering sweet nothings. mostly babbling about how beautiful you are. and you feel it— feel beautiful, you mean.

you gradually open your eyes, vision adjusting to the divine view infront of you. jungkook is golden, skin still glistening with sweat under the warm glow of the lampshade. your heart skips a beat when he smiles at you.

“are you good? do you need anything? water?”

“again.”

his eyes widens. “again?“

“round two.” you giggle.

you push yourself up to reach his lips, but the kiss ends too soon for your liking.

“jungkook-” you complain.

“wait!”

you stare in bewilderment as he bends down from the edge of bed, appearing to be reaching for one of the objects discarded on the floor.

“what is it?”

“i found it!”

it’s the flower.

beaming with a hue of pure excitement, he tucks the azalea behind your ear for the second time tonight. pretty, he says it so quietly that you only understand through the movement of his lips.

he looks bewitched by you. in a different setting you’d be smug about it, but at this moment, you don’t understand. you can’t read what’s on his mind. if only you could see yourself through his eyes, even for just a moment, then maybe you’d understand why he’s dancing with fire and folding with his tower of cards.

it would be too silly and embarrassing to start crying now, right?

you swallow the lump in your throat, glassy eyes overshadowed by your boyfriend leaning in to plant a kiss on your forehead. as if that isn’t enough to entirely melt your heart, he intertwines his fingers with yours. your walls come crumbling down. in a haste to forbid your emotions from breaking free, you reach for him and slip your tongue in his mouth for a fervent kiss.

the burning tears that drip down to your temples are lost evidence you will bring to the grave.

—

“you’re not supposed to be awake.” jungkook complains as soon as he opens the door.

you only spare him a glance before returning to your task. instead of being under the sheets, you’re sat on the floor with his button-up shirt from last night laid across your lap. only several steps closer and he realizes that you’re sewing.

he exhales through his mouth in surprise, setting aside the tray of food on the bed before joining you on the floor.

“baby, what are you doing?! it’s fine. you don’t need to fix it.”

“i know, but i want to.” you reply, smiling, eyes still swollen from sleep focused on the needle and thread. “i stepped on one of the buttons so i looked for the two other.”

he’s dumbfounded watching you sew with so much care and precision. oh my god, he is in love with you. he thinks it so loud he gets terrified that he might’ve ended up speaking it out loud too.

“at least eat first!”

“wow, where did you buy ingredients so early?”

“early?” he scratches his head. “it’s lunch time.”

“what?!” your eyes grow twice their size. “jungkook, i’m late for work! what didn’t you wake me up?!”

“you- you we- you were tired!” he stutters defending himself.

he awkwardly catches his shirt when you throw it aside in a rush to get to the bathroom.

“baby, what about your food?!” he yells.

“wait, i forgot my towel-” you pop out from the doorframe, beaming at him breathlessly. “oh, please pack the food in my lunchbox!”

—

VI. SPEAKING TRUTHFULLY, YOU’RE THE ONE FOR ME

“i missed you.”

you giggle. “you look drunk.”

you hold jungkook’s cheeks in the palm of your hands, and he revels in the comforting warmth radiating from them.

he closes his eyes with a toothy grin. “i’m exhausted.”

“then go to sleep!”

“i don’t want to!”

he opens one eye, peeking at you.

“i came here so you won’t have to tire yourself out more going to my place.” you pout. “why do you hate resting?”

“this is me resting,” he says as a matter of fact, leaning down to give your lips a peck. “you are my rest.”

while it may be true that his body is begging for sleep, his mind is willing him to stay awake for as long as he can. he likes that he has nothing to prove here; he can simply be. you’re softly tracing his skin, forming constellations from the moles on his face, and he knows they’re created out of pure wonder and love.

“this one’s so cute!” you gush. “nobody talks about it enough.”

you place an affectionate kiss on the mole at the bridge of his nose.

“maybe because nobody has noticed it but you.”

you roll your eyes. “as if i’m the only one who spends their free time looking at your face.”

“but you’re the one who can view me in the highest quality.” he brings his face a little closer to tease you; noses almost brushing. “no one else can have me this close.”

“that’s right. or else you will never have me this close again.”

you squint your eyes at him as a threat; a frown making a permanent residence on your lips. fuck, when is he not thinking about kissing you?

“aigoo, look at you sulking!” he exclaims with a laugh.

“i’m not!”

“okay, whatever you say.” he replies in a sing-song voice.

it’s silent for a few beats as he engulfs you in his embrace. he feels like he’s being recharged, and with that comes along the overdue acknowledgement of his exhaustion. he meant it when he said that you are his rest.

“you know, i can’t help but to wonder sometimes.”

there is an undertone of hesitance in the way you spoke which is not typical of you. this prompts him to draw back a little, just enough to get a good look of your face.

“wonder about?”

“i’m not trying to put myself down or anything like that, by the way. i’m not expecting you to say the right thing or whatever either. i’m just-”

you pause, teeth nervously biting your lip. his heart aches in an instant when you avoid his eyes.

“i’m just genuinely curious? and saying what’s on my mind.”

“what is it?” he juts out his bottom lip. “you’re scaring me.”

“it’s not a big deal!”

“go on then. i’m listening.”

“i mean, i know i’m a catch, and- and i have a lot to offer, and i’m special in my own way. but you have a lot of…” you blink, trying to find the right term. “options.”

the word alone causes distaste to morph in his facial expression.

“okay, okay, i know! ugh, i don’t know how else to say it. but you have these beautiful and amazing people throwing themselves at you and sometimes i’m flabbergasted that you actively reject them for me.”

“baby, what are you even saying-”

“i’m serious. there are girls i would’ve totally gone for!”

“but they’re not you!”

he tilts your chin, smiling when at last, he recaptures your wide-eyed gaze.

“it’s really as simple as that.”

“but when we weren’t official yet-”

“i liked you from the start, if i didn’t make that obvious enough.”

you scrunch your cute nose; a smile of pure giddiness starting to form on your face. “you did… i knew.”

“i can’t believe you’re thinking about things like that. i only have eyes for you, baby. do you remember the first fight we had, huh? remember how i got drunk and cried?”

he doesn’t particularly like to relive the trauma and consequences of receiving unsolicited… almost naked… photos of an acquaintance while he’s watching a silly youtube video on his phone with his significant other. anything can be fixed in a relationship if both parties exert the effort, but trust, it is almost impossible to rebuild.

she didn’t know he was, is, in a relationship. in general, no one outside his inner circle really expects him to be in a relationship, or at least be in one that is serious or long-term. because, well, where would he find the time and energy for that kind of stuff?

but keeping you as a secret was his way of protecting you, and if you were hurting because of that, you didn’t show it.

oh, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t mad.

you needed some time to clear your head, you said. ignored his texts and phone calls; shooed him away when he begged at your front door. that issue may already been resolved, but he’s still not done proving that he’s solely committed to you.

you’re one of the most important people in his life. he loves you and he tends to get worried that you will never know much.

you gasp, hitting his chest. “when did that happen?!”

“why are you shocked…?” he narrows his eyes. “you didn’t know?”

“how would i know?”

he scratches his head in confusion. he should probably stop talking at this point and not dig his own grave, but his honesty leads him on. “…didn’t taehyungie-hyung send you a video? or did i make that up in my head?”

he immediately regrets it when the sparkle of mischief appears in your eyes.

“he’s still awake, right?”

“actually, he sleeps early nowadays!”

you wiggle out of his embrace, playfully sticking out your tongue at him. “i’ll go get the copy from him right now.”

“it was so long ago. it’s probably deleted by now!”

“wouldn’t hurt to check.”

“baby, no! it’s embarrassing!” he attempts to pull you back, but his hands barely reach you. “let’s just go to sleep, hm? didn’t you come here to put me to sleep?”

“aw, my love…”

he melts when you gingerly stroke his hair too. he will never live it down if his friends witnessed you babying him and him loving it.

“just close your eyes.”

and with your hand obstructing his vision, he sees pitch black and floating spots and flecks.

“i’ll be back in a minute! mwah!”

but despite his sense of sight being taken away, he still feels you spring off the mattress. the weight of your feet against the floor resonates along with the shout of your name as he follows you out of his bedroom.

you squeal in panic when you realize that you’re being chased. “go back to bed!”

“i won’t unless you go back with me!”

this is one of the instances in which jungkook is grateful for his gifts of athletic prowess and long limbs.

with little to no effort, he overtakes you in the race towards taehyung’s bedroom. doe eyes akin to a deer caught in the headlights, he swings the door open.

taehyung’s eyes flicker up from his phone. he’s frankly not surprised about the intrusion, not after hearing the commotion outside.

“need anything?”

“all the videos you have of him drunk!”

“hyung, no! you can’t give it!”

—

VII. THE CHOICE TO STAY

“give it to me.”

the blanket that jungkook carried from the bedroom is snatched away from his hands. it becomes unfurled and thrown over to shield your shivering vessel from the cold. without a word, he crawls on the couch and under the blanket, hugging you from behind as you catch up on your ongoing tv shows.

relief… he’s been looking forward to this all day.

the tension in his muscles, from head to toe, begin to fade away, especially as you take his hand in yours so you can give it a chaste kiss. it’s quick, but long enough for him to feel the softness of your lips. his hug tightens. he remains silent as he inhales, and exhales, slow and calm. he’s not trying to fall asleep as much as trying to shut down his brain. they say the world has stopped but from his point of view, it has erupted into chaos and he has no other choice but to watch it fall apart and to attempt to rebuild it at the same time. god knows he is doing the best he can but it feels like his best will never not be lacking.

jungkook is scared, and he is more scared knowing that everyone else is too. but for the past two years, whether you’re whole or broken, whether he’s climbing or falling— it never made a difference. you’ve always stayed.

he finds comfort in knowing that he has this constant among the ominous unknown.

his little firefly; your light won’t go out even as the world lets out its final sigh.

“my love, why are you sad?”

you flipped to your other side when another commercial break rolled in; now you’re hovering over him, curious eyes studying every inch of his face.

“is my love hurt anywhere?” you coo. “where should i kiss?”

his body shakes with quiet laughter as you pepper his face with kisses, trailing down to his jaw until you reach the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“or do you want a massage? here? know you had a looong day.”

“really? how’d you know?”

“yeah, ‘cause you haven’t showered. you’re all stinky.”

“oh, am i?” he playfully pinches your waist, which you react to with a drawn out whine. “and yet you’re still cuddling with me.”

“so? do you need my massage therapy services or not?!”

“no. i only need my lover, please.” he pleads with droopy eyelids, emphasizing his request by tangling his limbs with yours.

he can’t hide from you like he hides from himself. you’re much more gentler with his heart than he is; unconciously, he trusts you more with it.

“you have me. what’s wrong?”

your hands anchored on the sofa are swept away as he pulls you closer, your weight crashing down on him entirely. he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your natural scent and the lavender in your body wash.

“eh, it’s just work… everything that could go wrong is going wrong. we’re trying to figure things out, but what can we do really…? there’s nothing. i- this-this whole thing is just so fucking frustrating, baby. i’m sorry.”

“it’s not just work! it’s your reason for living. of course this is frustrating and painful for you. it’s understandable to feel that way.”

he can practically hear you pouting. he is proven right when you lift your head, leaning in to give him a kiss. he smiles against your lips. he loves you so much.

“so please don’t burn yourself out trying to be okay. you have me by your side who can help you carry your burdens.”

it was scary at the beginning, but now it only feels right. it is impossible not to love you with all of his heart and soul; you deserve nothing less and more than what he can give. when you hug him, he hugs you back tighter.

“you’re my reason to live too.”

“i shouldn’t be. what if i die before you?”

“yah, don’t says things like that!” he scolds you faster than he can think, eyebrows knitted together and frown a tad deeper. “you won’t. it won’t happen.”

“i will die eventually.” you grimace.

“please don’t say such things as ‘i want you to move on and meet someone else and fall in love again and remarry.’ i don’t want to hear it!” he rambles so fast that he doesn’t even understand himself, stumbling and lisping. “i will seriously cry!”

“oh, i don’t care for things like that.”

you make yourself more comfortable; your boyfriend as your own personal bed. sleeping on top of him has been a natural occurence these days, not that he minds. you’re so soft and warm. it’s like hugging a stuffed toy to sleep. still, he’s mindful of you falling off the couch again.

“do whatever you like.” your eyes meet as you bestow him with a smile. “i’ll be dead; i won’t even know what happens next.”

“you don’t care? huh…” he huffs over the hypothetical.

the mere consideration of it feels like cheating. he knows that it technically isn’t, but he can’t imagine spending the rest of his life with someone who isn’t you. nevertheless, if he was being honest and it was the other way around, he’d probably do tell you to leave your heart open. but the topic is not the other way around and jungkook’s heart is stubbornly bound to you.

“why am i getting upset?”

“i don’t care because i’m confident.” you say candidly. “you can fall in love with someone else, but no one will ever love you the way that i do.”

ah, and here comes a side of you that he knows and loves. he swears that cupid is in the room and his heart was just hit by another one of his arrows. it feels so good to be loved so fearlessly.

“i know, so why even bother?” he arrives at a conclusion to his defense, but there’s a much better solution. “please never ever leave me so i won’t have to deal with this dilemma.”

he catches you roll your eyes before he comes face-to-face with the back of your head. your cheek rests on top of his chest; he feels it above his beating heart.

“what then? are we supposed to die together?”

he hums in thought. “it’s not a totally bad idea. we live together, so wouldn’t that make sense too?”

“wow, very shakespearean of you.”

“oh, that’s right! see? isn’t this your type of thing? let’s do it!”

“oh my god, you’re so stupid.” you hide your face behind your hand, giggling in disbelief of the sharp turn this conversation took.

jungkook loves making you laugh. for a little while, he forgets everything else. the world outside may be terrifying but you have your own in your shared apartment. you’re his reason to live too. you ignite the life in his veins. you kiss him with an appetite for passion and love and he enters heaven on earth.

“thank you.” you mumble against his lips.

“thank you?”

“for loving me, for living with me…” your voice wavers and his heart drops to his stomach. he can hold back his tears, but never when he sees yours flowing. “even when you’re tired and having a hard time.”

“you make it sound like a chore, but the truth is loving you gives me the strength to work hard everyday. you do know that, right? baby?” he strokes your hair tenderly, hoping that you receive his sincerity. “i should be the one thanking you… i should say it more often. you didn’t give up on loving me even when it was hurting you.”

“it’s all in the past… you were hurting too.” you reply in a faint whisper. “i love you.”

cupid must owe him a tremendous favor to have granted him the purest form of love a human being could have.

he plants a kiss on your forehead, noticing the rise of your shoulders. an endearing thing they occasionally do when you’re happy, shy, or flattered. it’s one of the many things he learned about you since you started living under the same roof.

he’s been learning about himself too. he tried saving you from himself but this fact is now well-established— you are the sun; it only hurts him to push you away because you’re in everything. it’s the little things that will haunt him if lost. when pieced together, they declare that you love him and he loves you.

the words i’m going home have gained more meaning and he’s excited to say them at the end of each day. he talks about his day and you talk about yours. you find out he’s the reason your lotion ran out too fast again and you chase him around the apartment until he promises to buy you the biggest bottle. you play rock-paper-scissors to figure out who will wash the dishes or receive the food from the delivery guy. you watch too many cooking videos on his phone until one of you falls asleep. most of the time it’s you. tonight, it’s still you.

he must confess that up to this day, he admires you when you sleep. you are safe and sound, and he is mended in places he did not know existed.

it’s time to sleep, he also decides.

he cocoons you in the blanket, then provides another layer of warmth which is his body. once settled, he closes his eyes, sighing in contentment. “what’s the use of our giant bed if we keep on sleeping on the couch?”

—

(?). AN ETERNAL RECORD: MY TREASURE, MY LOVE (ARCHIVED)

[DEC 25 ‘17 02:12AM]

“is it rolling?”

“yes, it’s rolling.”

you excitedly look at the film camera from the thick pile of snow on the ground, moving your arms up and down and your legs from side to side. an attempt to create a snow angel.

your giggles and the crackles of the snow are heard through the speaker.

the lens zoom in on your face.

childlike joy in the form of an everlasting smile and snowflakes on your hair.

“am i doing it?!”

“you are!”

“really?”

“really!”

“is it pretty?”

your face comes out of the frame. for a second only the white snow is seen, and then the dark brown of your coat as you skip towards the camera.

“let me watch!”

the camera shakes before it pans to the ground.

rustling of clothes and a shy, panicked voice.

“hold on- i-i’ll just fix the…”

“why?”

“huh, what do i do?” a forced laugh to mask nervousness. “i think it didn’t save-”

[eddies-ashtray]

SCARS ♡ Eddie Munson x GN!Reader 

gif source

Main Masterlist ♡ Blurb Masterlist

Synopsis: About three months after the demo-bat attack on Eddie, the scars left on his body by the bats remain a source of great insecurity for him. You try to convince him of his beauty in any way you can. 

WC: 3.0K

Category: Hurt/comfort & fluff + a dash of smut (18+, MINORS DNI).

Content: Established relationship, mentions and light description of Eddie’s scars, discussion of Eddie being insecure about his scars, reader comforts Eddie, body worship, praise, lots of kisses, teasing.

A/N: This is an AU in which they’ve succeeded in killing Vecna, Eddie still got attacked by the demo-bats, but lived and his trailer is also still intact. Happy reading! 

♡*♡*♡

Eddie was like a furnace all year round. In the winter months you’d snuggle up next to him on the couch while you watched movies, often tucking your cold feet underneath his warm thighs, you’d stay tucked under his arm soaking up his warmth as you walked into school together. And when arriving at his trailer and escaping from the chilly December bite, you’d rush straight into his arms, spending a minimum of two minutes making him warm you up. 

The point is, the boy ran hot. And while this was an advantage for the both of you when the temperatures dropped (though mostly you–since it gave you an excuse to glom onto him like a koala to a tree), the summer months were hell for him. To compensate, he frequently wore his frizzy hair up and sported short athletic shorts and tank tops, cut off t-shirts, and often no shirt at all if he could help it. Much like his warmth in cooler temperatures, this was also a benefit to you–albeit in a very different way. 

Although he took the appropriate measures to ensure that he stayed as cool as possible throughout the summer, this did not spare you of his complaining. He really tried to resist, but when there were 90 degree days you’d spend in your friends backyards or strolling around the zoo or riding bikes to the corner store for slushies, he’d slip into the habit. 

But this summer something changed. The complaining suddenly stopped. There was no dramatic sighing or fanning himself with homemade paper fans. No begging to find someplace with air conditioning, or at least a place to sit in the shade. No theatrical comments about how he was about to die any second from dehydration. Nothing. 

And while you were glad of the reprieve from his complaining—which, in all honesty, didn’t bother you that much anyway—, you knew something was up. Especially since the absence of his complaints was also accompanied by an abandonment of his usual summer attire. 

He traded in tank tops for long-sleeves and those tiny, red athletic shorts (that you thought made his ass look spectacular) for sweatpants or jeans. Like the weather had no effect on him anymore. But you knew it did; you could see how flushed his face would become and the beads of sweat forming on his brow even while seated in front of a fan in his trailer. 

You suspected you knew what was going on, but you weren’t sure how to broach the subject.

So near the end of June, 1986 as you and Eddie are spending a lazy afternoon on his porch—Eddie reading a book on the porch couch and you making friendship bracelets at his feet—you ask him:

“Hey, where are those red shorts you have? You know, the ones that when you wear them I always make you walk in front of me.” You waggle your brows at him suggestively. 

You’d tipped your head back so it rested on the sofa cushion right next to his left thigh so you could look up at him, and almost absentmindedly, Eddie’s hand had begun to stroke your cheekbone lovingly. But he didn’t catch your eyes, instead his remain glued to the page. He doesn’t react to your borderline salacious comment (just another action that’s out of character for him), but simply turns the page of his book. 

“In one of my drawers…Or maybe in the closet, I don’t know,” he responds. He’s wearing a black long sleeve with tour dates on the back and a Dio logo on the front with light-coloured jeans. It was 88 degrees today and humid with absolutely no breeze, the kind of sticky heat that can make you feel like you’re suffocating if you’re outside for too long. 

You frown and try again. “What about your cropped shirts? I miss those.” It’s then he stops stroking your cheek. 

Eddie huffs, annoyed, and drops his folded paperback into his lap before finally looking at you. “Why are you asking me about my clothes? Worry about your own.” 

Eddie rarely gets so defensive or lashes out (which is probably too harsh a phrase for what he’s done just now, but he’s clearly irritated) at you unless there’s something deeper going on. He tries to hide things if he’s ashamed or embarrassed of them, but his feelings end up coming to the surface to manifest in other ways. 

A child with pigtails on a faded blue tricycle coasts by then, ringing the silver bell affixed to the handlebars, and a woman (who you presume to be her mother) strolls not more than three paces behind. 

It’s then that you stand from the wood floor, abandoning your half-finished bracelet with the loose threads hanging off the end on the couch beside Eddie. 

He looks up at you just as you grab his hand, and pull him inside, continuing to pull him along the hall to his bedroom where you get him to sit on the end of his bed. 

Eddie has a guilty look on his face, brows knit together and eyes soft. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He drags a hand down his face, now frustrated with himself. 

You tilt your head at him then and gently grab his wrist, pulling his hand away from his face. He’s warm. His eyes are apologetic and tired as they stare into yours. 

“It’s okay. I think I know what’s going on.” You sit down on the bed next to him, holding his slightly sweaty hand in yours. “But I want you to tell me.” 

You’re looking at him, but much like earlier he avoids your gaze. He’s focusing on a small dark spot on the carpet, likely from sometime when he’d dropped a cigarette on the floor. 

He looks defeated. It makes your chest ache. You squeeze his hand. 

“They’re just…they’re everywhere,” He says quietly, shamefully, and he still can’t look at you as he says it. Like it’s a dirty confession. Like you hadn’t known. Like you hadn’t seen them, hadn’t seen how he got them. 

The scars, barely three months old, touch everywhere from the sensitive skin of his belly and thighs, to the muscle of his biceps and crawl down his forearm. He’s even got some hiding just beneath his collar, that creep up around his shoulders where they stop before they reach his back. 

You’re formulating a response to his statement, but before you can speak, Eddie continues: “I was already so easy to pick apart. Y’know. The hair, the clothes. And I was mostly fine with it. But this-this just gives them another reason to stare, another reason to point and say, ‘hey, there’s the freak.’” He utters the insult with such venom you flinch. 

With your free hand, you tenderly guide his face to look up from the carpet and at you, and your hand drops to his knee. You don’t even have to think of what to say. 

“You know what I think when I see them?” You ask, and Eddie shakes his head. “I think about the fact that you survived. They’re a reminder that you still have a body that can scar…that you’re alive.” 

Eddie scoffs lightly, disbelieving, and looks away again. “You can’t mean that-you-” But you cut him off, forcing him to look at you again. Your other hand moves from his knee, to cover the top of his hand that’s holding your right one. 

“I would rather you be covered head to toe in scars than not be here at all,” You tell him fiercely, making sure to hold his gaze as you say it. 

Something changes in his eyes then; they go glassy and tender. You’ve begun to break through, if only by a small amount. At least, he believes that you believe what you’ve said, even if he doesn’t believe it himself yet. 

Still, he screws his face up slightly at the image, but then lays his head on your shoulder. 

He sniffles. “Thank you.” 

You wish he could see himself now how you see him, think about himself what you think about him. You try a different route. 

“They’re metal,” You say, bringing the hand that was once grasping his, up his back to lightly scratch at his scalp. “Ozzy would be jealous.” 

At this, Eddie gives a weak laugh, and you can feel his shoulders shaking with it. 

You’re not sure how else you can convince him of his beauty. You’re not sure if that’s possible. Maybe all you can do is show him in your own way, in every way you can, that you love him, scars and all. Maybe then, over time, he’ll come to feel at least neutral about them. To not speak of them with such hatred, to simply be content that they are there and come to peace with the fact that they will never go away. 

With that thought, you stand from the bed, and Eddie looks up at you, eyes shining with unshed tears. From there, you reach down and slowly begin to pull at the hem of his shirt, a question. Is this okay? 

When he raises his arms, you proceed, and tug his long sleeve over his head, letting it fall to the carpet. This reveals the pale expanse of his chest and stomach, marked by rippled scars pressed into his flesh. They’re more pink than red now since they’ve mostly healed, but they take up as much space as they had the day the demo-bats sunk their teeth into him.

Then, you gently press against his chest until he gets the memo and lays back, legs hanging off the end of the bed with his feet still planted on the floor. 

Climbing on top of him to straddle his hips, you lean down, hands pressed lightly against his chest and softly place your first kiss to the small-ish scar (at least in comparison to the others�� which can be about the size of large dinner plates) by his collarbone. 

“What’re doing?” Eddie asks the ceiling, voice cracking. 

Pressing yourself up from his chest so you’re eye-to-eye, you brush his hair behind his ear lovingly and stroke the soft skin of his cheek. His hands find your hips. 

“I’m kissing all your beautiful spots,” You inform him simply. Like it was obvious once you laid down the first kiss that the beautiful spots on his body are all the places marked by scars.

For a moment, Eddie’s large eyes–which are so expressive you think you could read his mind sometimes–sparkle with longing and something more sweet. A fondness. 

But then, a nearly nonexistent smirk creeps its way onto his face as if he’s just thought of something ridiculous to say.

“How are you going to kiss my personality and my character?” He quips, tone thick with false authenticity. 

You laugh with a short breathy sound. If he’s found the will to be his regular, annoying–yet charming–self, his heart must feel a little lighter. 

It’s then you kiss him square on the mouth, allowing your tongue to indulge in the taste of his, like cigarettes and watermelon. Taken by surprise, Eddie makes a hmph sound before melting into you, his hands travelling from your hips to your back, pulling you closer. 

Though his mouth was most definitely one of his most beautiful spots, you don’t linger–despite the fact that you want to–as this was not your initial intention. 

When you pull away Eddie groans unhappily so you award him with one final, quick kiss before sliding down his body again. 

With his shirt off and because you’re pressed close to his skin you can smell him so clearly; his lavender-scented body wash, sweat, and vaguely, his cologne. You delight in the closeness, in all it awards you.

It had taken him weeks to get used to you seeing him like this, let alone allowing you to touch him like this. But you think this is more than that as you softly kiss across the scars on his shoulders. No, you think, this is more than touch. This is worship. 

Trailing your hands down his torso ever so lightly, Eddie shivers involuntarily at the ticklish, but pleasing sensation. You smile up at him, satisfied with his reaction, then place a gentle kiss on his sternum. He sighs contentedly. 

Then, teasingly, you trail your mouth to the right, and up just slightly. You graze his nipple with your teeth and this is precisely when his chest begins to rise and fall rapidly, his breaths coming quicker. 

He lets you tenderly kiss the scars on his pecs, allows you to trail kisses down the length of his arm, ending with a sweet kiss at his wrist. He watches with hooded eyes as you do, pupils blown so wide now they nearly swallow up the dark brown of his irises. 

Eddie sighs and moans as you kiss down his belly and leave a path of spit. 

He helps you wiggle off his jeans. Once they are off, you allow yourself to indulge in a sudden desire to lick a thick stripe from the waistband of his boxers where his happy trail begins, all the way up to his navel. Eddie’s hips twitch and lift off the bed just slightly as he huffs impatiently. He wants this, he wants you to touch him, to kiss him everywhere available. 

You must lay down hundreds of kisses. With each one you are saying I love you, you are saying this to him, you are saying this to each and every scar. You are telling him, I love this one and this one and this one and this one. They are all my favourites. They are all your beautiful spots. 

You scratch lightly along his waist, just above his waistband, tugging at the elastic where you let your fingers sneak beneath the fabric. But you don’t tug his boxers down just yet. You haven’t even reached his thighs yet. How could you forget his thighs? What a great act of neglect it would be to forget about his thighs. 

Slowly, you slide off his body and onto the floor, now kneeling on the carpet between his legs, which he parted for you ever so willingly. He’s pliable, putty in your hands. You could move him wherever and however you wanted and he would let you. 

You decide that you enjoy this angle; seeing him laid out, wriggling around restlessly, sighing as you drag your hands up and down his thighs. He must be half-hard in his boxers. But you ignore this for now in favour of paying attention to his gloriously thick thighs.

Pushing the fabric of his boxers up so you can get to the highest place on his legs where the scars reach without taking them off, you place a kiss there, at the very top of his left thigh. 

“Sweetheart, please.” He sounds breathy and desperate. 

“But I haven’t kissed everywhere yet,” You tease before placing a sweet kiss to the meat of his thigh. 

This makes him whine, high and drawn out. 

You rarely get him like this. You love him like this. 

So you continue kissing his pinkish scarred flesh; the tops of his thighs, around his knees, his calves, then a painstakingly slow trail back up. He’s almost jittery by the time you’ve reached his thighs again. You must kiss every inch of his flesh broken by the scars. Because they’re a part of him and how could you not love every part of him?

Finally, you reach the apex of the inside of his thighs. He’s extra sensitive there. The scars are fewer and further between there. But still, you kiss each one of them, gently, softly, then tease him by licking up the inside of his thigh, feeling the ridges and bumps of the scars on the flat of your tongue. Another kiss. 

“God,” Eddie groans. And then he says something else as you continue your ascent, fingers itching to grasp his waistband and pull his boxers down. You aren’t sure what he’s said at first, until he repeats himself. And then he repeats himself again, and again. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” 

“Eddie, you’re so pretty,” You whisper into his thigh before pressing another kiss to another scar, one just below his waistband which you’ve only just begun to tug down. He hears your praise, lolls his head to the side to look down at you. His eyes are glassy and pleading, lust-drunk, love-drunk. Then he reaches his hand down, and you reach up to meet him in the middle where he laces your fingers together. 

It’s then you place a kiss over his boxers, kissing the very tip of him where his dick curves up towards his right hip, pressed right beneath the elastic waistband. The spot is damp and you can taste the saltiness of him on your tongue already. 

You’re glad you were watching him when you did it, because his eyes rolled into the back of his head before they shut and he moaned and his hips twitched again, searching for more, more, more. 

When his eyes slowly open again, he catches you watching him. Teasingly tracing your index finger over his skin, brushing over his scars, causing his stomach to tense, so riled up.

“What?” He drawls lazily. 

“Feelin’ good?” You ask, though you know the answer. 

“Mmh,” Eddie replies affirmatively, hips shifting again. You smile softly. 

If you can give him these moments as often as possible, make him feel loved and worshipped, press all your love into him through your lips on his skin, then maybe he will start to feel it for himself. It will sink into his skin, fight its way beneath the scars and into his heart. 

So you continue making him feel good. You finally pull down his boxers, allowing him to spring free. His leaking tip reaches his belly button, dark pink, clearly aching. You press your lips to the tip, once again kissing him. 

You ease the ache. 

♡*♡*♡

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it & if you did, please consider reblogging, it really helps!

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[ashthewaterghoul]

Ash, I need a bit of help. Not for me but for roommate.

She just went through a really bad day and while I’m taking care her in being a shoulder for her to lean on, she could use some literary comfort

I introduced her to Ghost (one of my highest achievements) And her favorite is Copia. If you could please offer some of your time to whip up any short fic of him in any comforting way, I would greatly appreciate it. Doesn’t have to be long, even a paragraph would be fine. I’m not a writer so I don’t got anything to write but hope you can? Maybe the ghouls and Copia doing something wholesome, anything!

Much appreciated! 🙏

Well, first off I would like to offer your roommate many many hugs or whatever her preferred form of affection is, and also I hope that whatever had made her day shit will pass <3

Anyway! Have some very rushed, not properly edited and chaotic Ghoul and Copia movie night fluffiness!

"Ah, my Ghou- oh shit..."

And why would Copia expect to walk into the den with anything less than sheer chaos unraveling before him?

Cirrus and Mountain were cooking, and Aether was meant to be also but had since been put on Dew-wrangling-duty so the Fire Ghoul would stop dipping his fingers in the bolognese. Swiss and Rain had their tongues down each other's throats and were borderline dry humping on the sofa while Cumulus waited for them so act more appropriately. Sunshine and Aurora were playing a very intense game of Mario Kart, and Phantom was participating until they saw Copia walk in.

"Papa!" They said as they ran to give Copia a hug.

"Ey, pipistrello (bat). How are you?" He said, obviously hugging them back and kissing the top of their head.

Phantom pulled away, and started fidgeting with the spade of their tail before they very nervously replied: "Sto bene, grazie. Come stai?" (I'm good, thank you. How are you?)

Copia beamed at hearing them getting more confident with their Italian, and returned: "Sto molto bene ora posso vederti." (I am very well now I can see you.)

Phantom gave a shy smile, another hug, and skipped back over to their game Aurora nudged their shoulder as they took their controller again, while Sunny smiled at them.

Copia went over to the kitchen and put down the bottles of authentic Italian wine he had brought with him.

"We're going to need one each after this." Cirrus said, stirring pots of spaghetti like the world would explode if she stopped.

"You are doing a marvelous job, mia cara aira. (my dear air)" Copia assured.

"C? Can you please help me with this gremlin?" Aether said as he yet-again stopped Dew from scooping up sauce with his tail, he tried this time.

"Of course." Copia smiled, putting an arm around Dew and leading him back to the sofas and chairs, where a grumpy Rain and Swiss were forcibly separated and kept apart by Cumulus herself.

"Ay, I'm a little cold here. Would you light the fireplace, Dewdrop?" Copia asked.

Dew flicked his wrist and set the logs ablaze, promptly trying to dash back for the kitchen but Copia was quicker.

"No, no, no. You're banned from there for a reason." Copia smiled, forcing Dew to sit on the ground, in front of the fire.

"But Papa-"

"No. I will not hear it." Copia said, slowly walking towards Dew and forcing him to shift backwards, and soon enough, Dew was sat in the fire, purring and content.

"Thank Satan for that fire-proof charm you put on all his clothes." Cumulus said, nodding in approval.

Not too long after, with Aether able to help again in the kitchen, their dinner of spaghetti bolagnese and garlic bread was served, alongside Copia's wine pairing which of course was perfect.

All sat and chat for a while with full bellies and drained their glasses, polishing off the bottles too.

They all had been working through films that Siblings had said were "iconic" and "staples for every human child growing up", and tonight was...

Disney Princess Movies

Many protests were heard, and all were voiced by Dew, but soon everyone was in blankets, with snacks and snuggled up. Pyjamas were always part of the dress code for these nights and that made it even cosier, especially with the fire burning too.

Dew was sandwiched between Aether and Swiss on one sofa, while Cumulus had Aurora in her lap next to them. Copia and Phantom had a sofa to themselves, and Mountain and Rain were in the loveseat next to them. Cirrus and Sunshine on a smaller armchair together, yet they made it work.

Through watching several of the films, they discovered that Aurora's voice made for a perfect Snow White, specifically during them Wishing Well song. Many a comparison was made between Dew and Rapunzel, and Copia was deemed Cinderella purely for the princess' mice friends.

"You took your shoe off on stage too, C." Swiss pointed out.

"Si, and I discovered that many of our fans rather enjoy my feet." Copia grimaced slightly. He wouldn't begrudge anyone, he just wasn't into it.

The discussion of how badass Sunny would be with a bow and arrow came up while watching Brave and Cirrus claimed to be Elsa with her Air magic being akin to colder, Winter winds. She also sung full renditions of the Ice Queen's songs to back her claim.

After the movies were done, all were exhausted as it was almost 5am. And while the very busy Frater would complain when the late night impacted the early meeting he had in a couple days, he'd never miss or regret spending time with his Ghouls. Forget their religion, this was sacred to him. They didn't care about species, or blood or Elements, and they were much more than pack. This random group, pulled together by some perfect string of fate or coincidence, was a family.

And Copia adores his family.

[warabidakihime]

Vicious Deceptions

Character: Actor!Toji Fushiguro x Actress!Reader | hollywood au Synopsis: Cunning minds entwined, weaving a web of treachery and desire. In a world of secrets and hidden intentions, their love became a tapestry of vicious deceptions.

Content warning: adultery, smut, profanities. minors dni.

*

The news of your movie's blockbuster success spread quickly, and the anticipation for the sequel soared. You, a renowned actress, and Toji Fushiguro, a confident and cool-headed actor, were in the middle of a script-reading session with your co-stars, preparing for the shoot that would begin in three days.

As you read your script, you felt a blush creep up your cheeks when Toji, sitting beside you, subtly moved closer. His mischievous grin hinted at something beyond the innocent facade you both presented to the world.

Pointing to a particular scene, Toji's eyes sparkled.

"It looks like we have a steamy shower scene coming up," Toji remarked, his voice bold and teasing. He knew exactly how to push your buttons and enjoyed the playful banter you shared.

Your eyes widened momentarily, betraying your interest in the intimate scene. You quickly composed yourself and responded with a clever retort.

"Quit acting as if this will be your first time doing a shower sex scene."

Toji chuckled, locking eyes with you.

"I'm not. I'm just excited. I can't wait to shoot this scene with you, Y/N. I can't wait to smack that ass in front of everybody."

"Focus on your script," you said, and for some reason, that was enough to appease your big brute of a leading man.

Your exchanges danced on the fine line between professional camaraderie and subtle seduction. Only the two of you were aware of the charged undercurrent, concealed from your co-stars, the staff, and the prying eyes of the media.

As the script reading continued, you and Toji engaged in insightful conversations that seamlessly intertwined with your characters' dynamics. You traded witty banter, your words carrying double meanings that hinted at a deeper connection.

Your interactions sparked curiosity among those around you, whispering of an off-screen chemistry that exceeded the boundaries of your roles.

Your gazes would occasionally meet, exchanging unspoken promises and shared secrets. The tantalizing prospect of bringing your hidden desires to life on the silver screen left both of you eager for the upcoming shoot.

As the session came to a close, the bustling energy of the studio began to subside. The other cast members bid their farewells, disappearing into the corridors one by one. With a gentle smile, you excused yourself, knowing that a whirlwind of magazine shoots and interviews awaited you.

Slipping away from the crowd, you found Toji waiting, his expression a mix of mischief and anticipation.

Glancing around to ensure no prying eyes lingered, you approached Toji with a knowing glint in your eye.

"See you later. Text me."

Toji smirked. "So bossy."

You rolled your eyes at his teasing, earning a chuckle from him and a resigned sigh.

"I know, I know. You know where to find me anyway; I gave you the passcode to my other penthouse, right?"

You chuckled sultrily.

"Of course you did. Now, goodbye. Let's talk later."

With one last lingering gaze, you both went your separate ways, diving headfirst into the demands of your busy schedules. The weeks flew by in a whirlwind of commitments, each day bringing you closer to the highly anticipated live premiere of your movie.

*

The red carpet stretched like a scarlet river, leading to the grand entrance of the premiere venue. Cameras flashed incessantly, capturing the splendor of the moment. There you stood, a vision in your elegant gown, each step a testament to your confidence and grace.

Beside you, Toji exuded dashing charm in his tailored suit, his ruggedly handsome appeal drawing whispers of admiration from the crowd. As you walked the red carpet together, your co-stars added to the aura, each radiating their own unique charm.

Amid the sea of well-wishers and photographers, your husband stood by your side, his presence not escaping Toji's notice.

Though masked by a smile, a hint of disappointment and jealousy flickered in Toji's eyes. You had promised him that you would leave your husband to be with him, but life's complexities had delayed the fulfillment of that promise.

Engaging in light banter, you navigated the crowd, stealing glances at Toji, who effortlessly mingled with guests and media alike. His charisma seemed to enchant those around him, amplifying the excitement of the premiere.

As the evening progressed, anticipation mounted as the cast and crew took their seats in the opulent theater. Sitting beside Toji, the proximity sparked an intoxicating tension.

With a hushed voice, he lamented, "It's a shame, isn't it? Our characters share such undeniable chemistry on screen, yet the same can't be said for our off-screen circumstances."

You met his gaze, intertwining your fingers subtly. "Patience, Toji. Between us, I'm yours."

Toji pouted, a rare sight, yet in your presence, he revealed new facets of himself. "Divorce the doofus already." 

You chuckled, "Let's enjoy the movie for now."

The lights dimmed, signaling the start of the film. As the familiar opening sequence unfolded, the tension between your characters came alive on screen.

And as you watched the story unfold, you couldn't help but wonder what the future held for you and Toji, both on and off the silver screen.

*

The film enchanted everyone in the theater.

The undeniable chemistry between your characters pulsed through the theater. Throughout the movie, both you and Toji felt a strong sense of pride within yourselves, as the two of you were ecstatic and relieved that you were able to give your characters more justice than you did in the first installment of the franchise.

Following the electrifying premiere, the theater crackled with anticipation and jubilation. Cast, crew, and insiders alike mingled, basking in the triumph of the film.

Amidst it all, Toji's gaze found yours, a glint of mischief sparkling in his eyes.

With a smirk playing on his lips, he leaned casually against a nearby wall, observing as you discreetly excused yourself from the group. Your husband, engrossed in conversation with your co-stars, remained oblivious to the brewing tension between you and your on-screen partner.

Taking a deep breath, a surge of audacity propelled you forward as you reached for Toji's hand.

"Toji, I need a moment. Come with me." 

Arching an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips, Toji quipped, "Oh? And what mischief are you plotting now?"

With little time for preamble, you tugged him along assertively and led him backstage.

"Just come."

With your hand firmly in his, you guided Toji through the maze of hallways until you reached your dressing room. The anticipation hung thick in the air as you stepped inside, the door closing behind you, except you failed to close it all the way.

So whatever moment you'll be having with Toji, it can be easily detected by anyone who passes by the area.

Without wasting a moment, you settled on top of your vanity table, your gaze fixed on Toji with a sultry intensity. His eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and excitement dancing within them, as he realized the intent behind your actions.

You beckoned him closer, your legs wrapping securely around his waist and drawing him in.

The intimate contact sent a jolt of electricity through both of you as you felt his arms encircle your body, his touch both possessive and tender.

In the charged silence, Toji's voice broke through, filled with a mix of anticipation and mischief.

"What if somebody walks in on us?"

He says that, but he's already leaning toward your inviting lips while his other hand is holding the zipper of your gown. Wasting no time, you wrapped your arms around his neck and reeled him in for a heated kiss, holding little to no regard to the possibility of getting caught.

Of course, Toji was more than happy to oblige and responded to your advances enthusiastically.

In that intimate space, you both embraced the reckless abandon of the moment, knowing that the world outside those walls could never comprehend the intensity of your connection.

"Toji--" you moaned in his mouth as you felt his grabby hands caressing your sides and squeezing your supple skin. In return, you slide your hands up and down his sturdy chest, shamelessly feeling his abs through his silky dress shirt.

Toji's husky voice contributed to the music being made in that tiny room as he spoke, "You picked this skimpy dress to tease me, didn't you?"

"Did it work?" you responded cheekily, which earned you a dark chuckle from him.

"I wanted nothing more than to bend you over and take you right there and then, the moment I saw you emerge from your limousine."

"What stopped you?" You asked him

"Your husband killed my boner. I didn’t even know you were bringing him along."

You let out a sultry chuckle as you began to grind your hips against his, purposefully tempting his flaccid cock to spring back to life.

"We can't have that now, can we?"

A wicked smile played on Toji's lips, reveling in your audacious nature and feeling his desire grow stronger.

"Absolutely not."

In the dimly lit room, Toji and you shed your clothes with an eager urgency. Every garment fell to the floor, revealing your naked bodies to each other. Your eyes locked, filled with desire and longing. You closed the distance between you, your bodies pressing together.

The heat of your skin ignited a fire within, intensifying the need for each other. There were no inhibitions, only the raw passion that enveloped the room.

Your hands explored, fingers tracing every curve and dip, igniting shivers of pleasure. Each touch sent waves of electricity through your bodies, heightening the intensity of your desire. Time seemed to stand still as you surrendered to the intoxicating pull between you.

Breathless and desperate for more, you locked eyes with him, pleading silently for him to take you to greater heights of pleasure.

"Please, Toji," you whimpered, your voice filled with need.

Toji's lips curled into a mischievous smile as he reveled in the power he held over you.

His voice dripped with playful teasing as he responded, "What's the magic word?"

The teasing only fueled your need, making the anticipation unbearable. But you knew deep down that the wait would be worth it and that Toji's mastery of seduction would lead to a culmination of ecstasy unlike anything you had experienced before.

"Toji~ I don't have time for this."

The man towering over you could only chuckle in amusement, "You're such a brat."

Despite what he said, he immediately adhered to your request and placed his throbbing cock at your entrance, and then he slowly let himself in, filling you nicely and snugly.

Each thrust felt more incredible than the last. The sensations overwhelmed you, evident in the sounds of pleasure escaping your lips and the expression of bliss on your face.

You continued to cling to Toji as he continued to fuck you relentlessly. Moans, profanities, and loads of skin-slapping filled your tiny dressing room.

You were so lost in your little world that you didn't even notice your horrified husband watching from outside.

Normally, you would have been filled with horror and embarrassment, but an unexplained boldness washed over you. Instead of feeling shame or shock, you met your husband's gaze with a cold, unwavering expression.

Toji was right.

It’s high time you end things with your husband and finally be with him. You made a mental note to yourself that, after this, you would deal with your husband once and for all.

Time seemed to stretch as your husband continued to look at you and Toji, his eyes widening with surprise, and you could've sworn you saw tears stream down his face.

Obviously heartbroken by your blatant betrayal, but you remained undeterred, focusing solely on Toji and continuing to lavish him with your undivided attention.

With a mischievous glimmer in your eyes, you even went so far as to put on a captivating display.

And of course, Toji loved your little ploy.

A sly grin spread across his face as he decided to play along.

"Tell me, Y/N, who's making you feel good right now? Hmm? Answer me."

Your response was a fervent moan that escaped your lips.

"It's you."

A teasing glint danced in Toji's eyes as he continued to ravish you, his voice laced with desire.

"And what's my name, darling?"

"Toji," you moaned.

Toji rewarded your response with a playful smack on your ass, eliciting another intoxicating sound from you.

"Good girl."

That was the last straw.

With a shake of his head, your husband left the scene, but none of you were in the mood to care as the both of you were so invested in each other.

Toji's voice was filled with desire as he commented, "You're still so tight for me. Fuck."

You were unable to form coherent words in response, completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you. Your focus was solely on the sensations coursing through your body, leaving little room for anything else.

He ran his hands along your sides, igniting shivers and goosebumps along your skin.

"You're doing so well," he praised, his touch adding to the intensity of the moment.

The pleasure was building rapidly, and then finally, that hot coil you've been feeling from within shot throughout your body, sending you into overdrive.

To enhance your climax, Toji increased the pace, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. Every movement brought you closer to a mind-numbing state of ecstasy.

-

Later that night, after a few more rounds, Toji drove you home, a satisfied and triumphant smile adorning his face. The energy between you two was still electric, and the intensity of the night lingered in the air.

Upon entering the house, you were met with a somber sight. Your husband sat on the sofa, hunched over, his body language reflecting the weight of his emotions.

It was clear that he had been drinking and crying.

For a few seconds, you observed him, your expression void of any semblance of guilt or shame. In actuality, you're looking at him right now with pure disdain and maybe even disgust. 

The weight of your decision lingered in the air, as you knew what you needed to do.

Silently, you retreated to your bedroom, retrieving the divorce papers carefully stashed in your side of the closet. Each step resonated with resolve; your mind was steadfast in its decision.

Returning to the living room, you stood before your husband, the papers clenched in your hand. With a deliberate gesture, you slammed the documents on the coffee table.

Your voice rang out with finality.

"My signature is already there. I trust you'll have it signed by tomorrow. Good night."

With those words lingering in the air, you turned away to get ready for bed, but as you were walking towards the bedroom, you heard your husband mutter under his breath, "Whore."

With a smug smirk on your face as you continue to march back to your soon-to-be former shared bedroom, you responded in a sing-song manner:

"Remember to use a black pen."

[eliasdrid]

you keep putting these tokusatsu shows on my dash for months and I have less than zero context what they're about. what's the cliffnotes version to get me interested in whatever these odd looking robots or perhaps creatures are doing?

Alright I'll try my best but it might get long.

To me, the most appealing thing about them is that the suits are very much suits, they often try to use practical effects where they can and there's a lot of neat choreographed fights. There's also often sci-fi elements (which I'm a fan of). Each season of each show seems to be made with love and passion for the genre* too and I've read/seen a few interviews which support this. There's also some very talented actors and it's amazing to watch them play pretend the colorful plastic weapons are real and can hurt you (they really sell it to you if you can suspend your disbelief a little and have some fun).

*edited - I wrote labor of love but forgot it is a specific thing and might not apply very well here?

Anyway. I'll give you the basics. The three big tokusatsu shows you may often see around are: Kamen Rider and Super Sentai (both from Toei) and Ultraman (from Tsuburaya).

Screenshots from: Kamen Rider OOO (2010), Kikai Sentai Zenkaiger (2021) and Ultraman Blazar (2023)

There's others! like Dogengers (screenshot below) - but I'll try to focus on those three.

In general these shows are aimed at young audiences so you have to watch with that in mind. Also, like any superhero show, they will want to sell you merch (figures, toys, plushies, etc).

Another important thing to know is that the seasons of these shows are usually self contained, and each have their own theme, so you can pick any season that catches your eye to check out with no previous knowledge. There are crossovers events (movies and especials) and anniversary seasons which will explore and/or showcase previous content too! I personally really enjoyed Kikai Sentai Zenkaiger (2021) which is a 45th Anniversary Sentai season and I had watched only two other sentais before it.

Now, some differences! so you can tell the shows apart and also know what you will potentially have in store if you decide to watch any. I'll put a read more because this is getting long 👍

Kamen Rider and Super Sentai air all year long, for this reason, seasons usually have 45-50 episodes. All the Ultraman shows I've watched have 25 episodes per season. Meanwhile Dogengers has kept a 12 episodes per season formula so far. Spin offs, specials and reboots have no defined number of episodes (to my knowledge).

I feel like I should mention that (especially in the case of 45-50 episodes shows) the episodes might feel a bit off sometimes? Be aware there's often release schedules with toylines involved* From what I've noticed this usually happens past the mid-season point the closer you get to finale territory. My guess is that, generally at that point, the writing team (or writer) was trying to do things they forgot to properly set up before, tie loose ends and/or finish arcs quickly. *Sometimes other things affect production, like COVID or an actor suddenly not being able to continue with their role.

All shows value The Power Of Love and Friendship and usually feature a team of heroes (or allies) fighting against an enemy faction. There's also, almost always, some sort of transformation device involved and in all these shows the heroes must collect some season-themed item to get power ups. The key difference between each show will be how they decide to play with these things.

Super Sentai is what Power Rangers is based on. If that tells you nothing: there's a team of heroes ("rangers"), color coded suits that are generally not too complex in design and one giant mech vs. giant monster fight per episode (on average). I've not seen too much Sentai so that's all I got for you.

Kamen Rider gives its heroes more complex suit designs and (usually) multiple forms (ascending in strength/skill). Kamen Rider's signature elements are probably: the drivers (belts), the henshins (transformation scenes) and the fact that they often have motorbikes (they gotta ride something).

Ultraman has more of a shared universe between seasons situation going on than the previous two so there's recurring lore. I won't explain that lore to keep this as short as possible. Either there's a host-alien situation (to varying degrees) or the protagonist has the ability to transform. In this show there's always an almost guaranteed Titular Ultraman vs. giant monster fight per episode.

More visuals that might help you tell them apart:

Screenshots from Ohsama Sentai King Ohger (2023)

Screenshots from Kamen Rider Ryuki (2002), Kamen Rider Den-O (2007), Kamen Rider OOO (2010), Kamen Rider Build (2017)

Screenshots from Ultraman Orb (2016), Ultraman Geed (2017) and Ultraman Blazar (2023)

I hope this was helpful! sorry it got long!

[nadsdraws]

First lines game

Thanks for the tag @feraltuxedo !

I'm afraid the majority of my fics are now ofmd so not sure if there's anything you'd be interested in 😅

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

Here's mine:

There is something locked in the hold of the ship.

From Riptide [M] - a lowkey edizzy supernatural fic with some horrory vibes and a twist

It’s just another shitty September day in Izzy’s dull, monotonous life.

From September [E] - happy edizzy childhood friends reunion fic with a dash of Ed choosing Izzy over Stede

“We’re here, Iz. We’ve made it. The ocean,” Ed waves his hand in front of the vast body of water in front of them as if in an introduction.

From Knocking on Heaven's Door [T] - an edizzy ficlet - Ed & Izzy find each other at the very end of their lives but that doesn't stop them from enjoying the last moments together

Eden is out cruising like every weekend.

From Princess [E] - happy edizzy getting together fic with transfem Ed and transmasc Izzy

Ed groans, glancing at the script of yet another stupid action movie.

From The Gentleman Unicorn [E] - steddyhands fic with bored action actor Ed, his manager Izzy and their new unicorn Stede

The doorbell to Izzy's flat rings and he promptly answers, as always.

From Piano Lessons [E] - an edizzy age gap fic set at university with professor Izzy and needy student Ed

Izzy leaves his shift late at night, as always.

From Country Roads Take me Home [E] - a cute cjizzy modern au with past edizzy, Jack is a country singer and Izzy works at the bar

Izzy is content, sitting in his favourite chair, eating his perfectly cooked meal in complete silence.

From Where Strawberries Grow [M] - an edizzy ofmd fic set in the Last of Us world (no knowledge of the tv/game is needed)

The first time it happens, Izzy thinks it's going to change everything.

From Different Pulses [E] - an edizzy stripper Ed au containing a lot of pinning, misunderstandings, sexy Ed and a happy ending

As far back as Stede Bonnet can remember, he always wanted to be a biker.

From Open Road [M] - a gentlebeard bikers au with Stede buying a fixer uper bar to insert himself into the bikers community

I've always thought I there are no patterns to my opening lines but the more I look at them the more I see how I like to underline the monotonny and the habits of main characters and starting with their names xD so thanks @feraltuxedo tagging me into this! It was insightful.

I'm gonna tag (if you want to do this, no pressure) @tawnyontumblr @saretton @saz-myhowtheyfly @ewelinakl @sweveris @vexbatch @snae-b @schmirius @redshift-ao3 @starryfull13

[iri-desky]

Oooooh I saw your reblog on my post and I'm intrigued to see what you can do! >:D

If you have the time, I would like to request for a Horropedia x fem!reader for a headstart... Maybe specifically with the reader also wearing glasses? It would be funny if he asked if the design is from any movie and stuff XP

No rush and good luck! 🙌

Thank you so much for the ask, yay! I tried my best. And sorry for the wait! I had school finals ;-; Didn't really have much time nor energy to write--nonetheless, I enjoyed this!

___________

(◇BESPECTACLED ◇)

♡ Horropedia x Fem!Bespectacled! Reader

♡ Type: Narrative, One-Shot-- Reader Self Insert (denoted by (y/n))

♡ Genre: Romantic Fluff

♡ Content Warnings: None!

Enjoy~

___________

"I'll admit, I can absolutely say the first X-Ray Monkeyman movie is fantastic, although the second film is compartively sub par..."

It was a quiet evening, sunlight flowing through the windows and painting the room in scarlet and tangerine. Within the pallid walls of the foundation, you were assigned the blandest of paperwork.

Well, it would've been a quiet evening if it weren't for Horropedia's--your best friend and current coworker-- perpetual chatter.

His voice tends to carry, Horropedia's, although nonetheless you didn't quite have the heart to silence his persistent jibber-jabbering. The absolute glow on his face whenever he discussed one of his favorite horror movies or was asked about the latest horror debate was incomparable to anyone you've ever seen, a gleaming grin on his face as his glasses shimmered with a tiny, piquant starlight in the evening sun. Eyes like honey, delicate and sweet, and an intellect, serrated, sharp.

Indeed, he had not a tint malevolence of in his jabbering or gaze, just passion.

"Hey! ... (y/n)? Earth to Miss (y/n)! You alright there?...It looked like you're looking straight into the void. Careful, the void stares back should you gaze too long," He chuckled heartily, taking a swig of his coffee.

"What? Oh, nothing." You muttered, shaking your head-- you blinked rapidly in the light of the sun, attempting to reorient yourself. "Lost in my thoughts. But, anyway, I still think the second movie's better than the first." You chuckled.

He smirked as he processed your counterclaim. "Actually, while I can respect your point, the first film is definitely better than the first. Scares are higher quality, the actors give a more believable performance..."

"Well, didn't the second film have better marketing?"

"Not quite. While the second film had a more active marketing campaign, the first one was more successful. In fact, in one of their first screenings, they sold limited edition glasses similar to the pivotal artifacts from the movie. It was only sold at the premiere, it was a huge success... in fact, these glasses aren't ordinary spectacles," He stated, proudly, pushing up his own glasses. "They were in fact the glasses sold at its premiere!"

"Oh, wait," He said excitedly, rushing over to you, "Those glasses look familiar... did you get them from the film's premiere? I did, myself--" He slipped off his glasses and stepped in front of you, proudly presenting the inner pattern of the frames to you, bumping shoulders with you. He was so absorbed in his ramblings, he didn't notice the streak of pink dashing across your face. "They may not look like much, but see here? This inner pattern--it's highly distinctive!"

Your face brightened at his enthusiasm. "I don't think so, but I guess you can look sometime."

He turned up to you, and slipped on his glasses again. "Wait, lemme see here for a second-"

Before you had a moment to object, he stepped right in front of your face and was peering to the side, in an attempt to see the inner rims--in doing so, he bumped noses with you as you gasped in surprise. It took him about three seconds to realize what he was doing.

One -- he touched noses with you, brilliant eyes amber in the dying sunlight, enthralled by his passions.

Two -- he peered to the side, searching for that telltale pattern in pure, analytical fascination.

Three -- he pulled a strand of hair out of your face, behind your ear, his movements, delicate.

It was to get a better view.

After that final moment ticked by, there was a beat as Horropedia stared at your face. Then his cheeks flooded with fuschia, his eyes growing wide as saucers. His hands began to shake.

"Oh." That's all he could stutter out.

For once, he had nothing to say.

"...I guess I'll...I'll...um..."

He slowly slipped off your glasses, taking a step back--just one.

He then, shakily, slipped off his own.

He stared down at the two pairs in his hands.

"...nope...haha...yours aren't the souvenirs..."

You couldn't speak.

His head tilted up again into your direction, glancing up at you as he continued to awkwardly fumble with both your glasses in his hands.

"...(y/n)?"

"...mm-hmm?"

"...Have I ever told you...uh...you look...look...I love the way you look...with...uh...your eyes with...your eyes are really gor--gorgeous with no glasses and your glasse-"

He didn't have a chance to finish his sentence. You had cut him off when your lips touched his.

It was a gentle, saccharine kiss, his supple lips meeting yours with adoring pressure and fast succession. His kiss was zealous, albeit pure--and clearly, he didn't mind it at all.

He was so absorbed into the kiss that, several moments later, both of your glasses clattered to the floor from his hands.

He dragged himself away, his visage frazzled and--to say it plainly, an absolute blushing mess.

"...Whoops," He chuckled, reluctantly bending down to scoop up both of your spectacles. He handed yours over, hands still shivering. "I--I believe these are yours." He said with an awkward grin as he shoved on his own glasses, brushing stray hairs out of his face.

You grappled your own glasses in your hands, an involuntary smile tugging at your lips.

"...(y/n)?" He asks.

"Yeah?"

"... thanks for listening to my stupid questions."

You step back up closer to him, his flustered expression a badge of his affection.

"It's my pleasure," You smile. "And, Horropedia?"

"...yes?"

"... would you like to take your glasses off again for a second?"

_________

I had a great time writing this, but just FYI that this is my first request anywhere! So definitely feel free to give me some feedback. Hope you enjoyed!!

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

Hello, I hope this is okay for me to send. I'm one of the blogs you blocked. (First off, this is your good right, and I completely understand and I hope this isn't a breach or invasion of privacy to send this from a different blog)

I always made sure to only tag content of Nolanverse Crane when it's really him and not any other Cillian role because I understand the frustration. And like I said, I absolutely understand that he's not a proper Scarecrow in your eyes. But it kind of hurts to get lumped into a group where I don't feel like I belong (if that makes sense)

Scarecrow in general is my favorite character in any comic related media. Arkhamverse Crane and Audio Adventures are at the top for me, and I also have a deep love for Fear State and little fan interpretations where he's just a funky little freak. My blog is Nolanverse centric atm because I just haven't gotten around to writing fics for the others. (And I'm worried I won't write them well tbh)

But all of that aside, my reason for actually sending this was because I was genuinely missing your posts and opinions on my dash. I was honestly a little worried that I didn't see anything from you before I realized what happened.

This isn't me being angry or petty and please don't think I feel entitled to seeing your posts (I don't want to be THAT person)

I guess this is just me saying goodbye to a pillar of the Scarecrow fandom, and it makes me a little sad

From the bottom of my heart, I hope your mom's recovery goes well and you have a great rest of the day/week/month. And a happy early birthday, Moffy

(ALSO SORRY FOR THIS ESSAY OMG)

A couple of things </3

I THINK I knew who this is. I blocked one person after I made that post. Looking back, that was probably a stupid mistake. I'mma unblock to check when I post this, and you let me know? (I was thinking....oh god I'm gonna get hate from the fangirls and taht legit clouded my judgement. I still fear anon hate)

See, that post was mainly about people I blocked weeks/months ago. I often only block the fangirls, for lack of a better word. I actually made the Cillian post on a whim. I needed some content for the day. (you probably know I upload daily) And sometimes, a little anger is okay. it's a valid emotion. Again, the people I block are more fans of the actor than the character. My main complaint was seeing Cillian stuff, which was not from the movies, in the tag. It just sorta....clogs it up?

Anyway, I can clearly see you're not one of them. If some reason , within the next ten minutes, you're still blocked. Send me the url. I am human. I understand. Mistakes and stupid shit happens. (especially with all I am dealing with irl) (I've been so stressed I think it clouds my brain)

You clearly love the character behind the actor, and I respect that. I think you may have been following me, cus my count went down after I blocked ya. So yeah, I did think that was WEIRD.

I'm sorry if you felt lumped it, it was just an error on my part. I hope you can forgive that.

and ya know, just because I'm not a fan of nolancrane, doesn't mean it's bad. I should reiterate, it brought so many into the fandom. That's great! I still reblog fan content of him. I suppose, the truth of the matter is my autistic brain doesn't do "live action" -- I can't think of one human who could play Jonathan Crane to my expectations. Voice actors yes, Dino Andrade forever lmao

But I just...live of art/comic/animation/games

and anything else feels uncanny. Like now. I dont imagine Crane as a real person. I have no image inside my head unless it's a comic illustration or game render. I Hoooope that makes sense

[hedgionary]

GO ON ABOUT SHAMBALLA!!!! I have the same dilemma where I can’t just ignore it… it is so good and yet. So very. Ah…

Alright, so here we go! I may not be as sleep deprived and obsessive and I was when I wrote the first (now eternally lost, RIP) draft, but I'll do my best!

This post contains spoilers. So in case this showed up randomly on your dash and you intend to read it, please keep that in mind. I'll be going over literally everything that comes to my mind.

1. The length and what was cut

SO MUCH WAS LEFT UNEXPLORED! SO. DAMN. MUCH. START, MIDDLE AND ENDING.

Start

If they were going to cut so much anyway, why did they leave the whole castle sequence? I'm not saying it's not entertaining at all, ("Let's go. This whole place is about to blow up." "Brother, why?" "Because I don't like it >:]") it just seemed really detached from the rest of the movie. And considering how long it is, there could've been quite a bit of story packed into the space it took. That's not to say Edward with a fishbowl on his head wasn't funny.

Dunno how they found a lake that big in a landlocked country either.

Middle

Let's start with where the movie picks the main narrative. What exactly was Edward doing when he met Alfons? What was their relationship like? How bonkers did Alfons think Ed was exactly?

Mustang. Depressed Mustang. Riza having to deal with it. How bad has he gotten when even Hawkeye isn't by his side now? Team Mustang were also such a BIG part of the story. Their presence in CoS was definitely lacking. The scene in the North deserved to be longer though.

Envy my little blorbo, I want to put you in the Salad spinner. Both versions. Into the spinner, you. Is there another one of you on this side of the gate??? Would he, or they, have shown up in the life of the Elrics, possibly making it more difficult for the two of them than it already is? And as much as I hate to say it, Nazi Envy is still less annoying an idea than Hughes. The whole military cast all sad little war criminals anyway :[

Wrath. My baby was supposed to have more screentime :( Sure, his death would've been even more painful if he'd had it, but stilll, more Wrath content!!! That's always good!

Izumi's death. I've got more of a love-hate relationship with that woman than I have with the whole movie, and that's something. While I adore BH Izumi with every fibre of my being, '03 just... Rubs me the wrong way. It could've been such a painful scene. But still I get why they chose to do it off-screen.

Ed's fake arm and leg deserve more screentime. You can fight me on this one. While we did get the "This is a carnival! Go have some fun!" Scene for Ed's arm it was... That. And literally nothing else save for a quick shot of how he attached them. How did Hohenheim's replacement affect him? How many times did he assume it was metal and broken it? How delicate is it in comparison? Does his leg also require a pull-start, or is it constantly running? (Haha. Leg. Running. I'm so funny, I know.)

Eckhart get out. 🚪👈🏼 Seriously? After Dante? Now Dante was a Villain with a capital V. Eckhart? Maybe if she'd had enough time to stew on-screen. As it is, she's been stewing in our minds off-screen and getting progressively more pathetic as time goes by. Movie could've worked out without her being the way she is.

Ending

I. Hate. Open. Ambiguous. Endings. WDYM WE GET TO DECIDE WHAT HAPPENS? I DON'T WANT TO. I WANT TO SEE THE ELRICS BEING MESSY. FIGURING IT OUT. FINDING THAT BOMB THING. ALPHONSE WITH A GUN.

Because let's face it; we got Edward with a gun. He doesn't have alchemy anymore. I stand my case. Alphonse with a gun.

Also, hello? Scar and Lust? What could we get from that? Ed and Al both going "Noah, of all the people in the world, you had to find... Them." And just having to roll with it. (Don't let Ed drive. Please don't let Ed drive. What we didn't need was a third car crash and the repercussions of that.)

Most importantly. We all know of Ed's coping habit on this side of the gate. Did he manage to get out of that? Is Al gonna grow slowly aware of how different and broken his brother is? Depression doesn't go away just like that and Edward was already in a difficult place before the brothers were separated.

Something that irks me but probably shouldn't is the fact Shamballah didn't end on a train. Every other piece of Fullmetal media, be it the manga, Brotherhood, or the episodes of '03 ended with Ed on a train, looking out of the window. And then we have Shamballah where they're looking at... Scar, Lust and everyone else in that car. The only reason we know Ed and Al lived is that little OVA from 2005 that said Ed would be 100. And I don't remember if that even mentions what happened with Al.

2. Muuuussiiic

Just to think there could've been more of these treasures. "Alchemic World~Two Years Thereafter" being a variation of the first verse of Brothers. The silly little soundtracks like "Castle of Science Goes Kablooey" or "Automated Mechanical Arm"

Maybe an actual instrumental to "Kelas (Let's-Dance) not just an instrumental version that's a nightmare to attempt singing to. Seriously. It's easier a capella. If you have someone to sing it with, that is. (I don't)

"Requiem" during the funeralll. That track is just... Chef's kiss.

The last track to play is "Lost Heaven" and oh boy doesn't that pack a punch. While Amestris was not heaven, at least it wasn't torturing Ed psychologically 24/7 (Nazi Hughes will haunt me until the end of my days...)

I actually enjoy writing to the CoS soundtrack on random! Gives a weird mood to the story, but when writing scenes as wacky as I am currently... Definitely helpful!

3. Winry and Automail

More if her time with Edward. They didn't even get to say goodbye??? Also, how did she guess his size perfectly??? He is, after all, still short, even at eighteen years old. Poor boy.

Anyway. This doesn't even give me angst potential. They aren't even together long enough to talk, chat, let any feeling resurface. The whole Amestris sequence feels like a fever dream or a badly paced fanfic. I don't drop fics just because they're badly paced, even if I have to fill events in on my own. But a movie? Uhhhh. Yeah. Difficult.

They're just kind of accepting the fact the other exists as if they were benches in a park. "Oh cool. A new bench next to the monument. I'll come back tomorrow. Oh no, no more bench? Weird, but okay."

Edward came back? Cool. Let me give him new automail and skim over the fact he hasn't had any attached in years, so at least some of the nerves shouldn't be working quite right. Definitely not combat ready. Besides, I'm fairly sure Edward is out of practice. Who was he to spar with? Hohenheim's prosthetics were also definitely inferior to automail, meaning his fighting wasn't as good as it had been back home. The weight difference too. So that just felt weird. Even if I personally can't fight. Probably. Haven't tried. Aren't very fit though.

4. The knowledge that we will never know. It's been what, almost 20 years since this movie aired? We're never getting a canon sequel and I can't find a good fic that I can just confidently go "Yeah. That's what happened." to. That's not to say there aren't any that I've enjoyed, just none that feel close enough to canon to work.

Also the fact this has so much crossover potential that's, essentially, ignored. You have both Ed and Al here now. There's so many stories that happen or at least start in our world, having important events around the 1920s. And even if not, it's FANFICTION! You can give the most random excuses such as "Their ashes and dust cannot be laid to rest here, for this is not the earth that birthed them" and you'll have yourself immortal Elrics! Just phrase it poetic enough. Or go with the fact energy cannot be created or destroyed. By all means, there's too much energy here and too little there because of the boys crossing over. Idk. I should've failed physics years ago.

Anyway I wish we could get a redo. Either the three movies idea or the 13 episodes. I just wanna know.

5. Positives

I've been mainly going on about what I dislike in this movie, so let's go on what I did like!

Al. The little thing. Copying your older brother like that? Peak sibling energy. I wonder if you ever did it later just to mess with Ed. You're so much like your brother. Especially the BH au of him. You two would get along like a house on fire. Worse than Ed and Mustang. Al, you're adorable. Just a little critter. Also, memory problem buddy! Yay! I am glad you got them back though. You deserve it. Even if I do wonder how it changed your perspective on the past few years, remembering both your solo travels and the ones with Ed. Your voice was also really silly.

Noah. I liked Noah. I just did. Most of the time. Gave me Rose vibes. I also liked the music her appearance brought in.

Gracia. I liked the fact Gracia was there. I hope she and Maes made it work, maybe even had their own Elysia. Maybe even siblings for her :]

Edward's mental health. Although a heavy topic, I liked the fact the repercussions of being so far from home were shown.

The jokes. Although I haven't actually watched the whole thing in English, I quote this movie at my friends, much to the annoyance of the ones who aren't interested in Fullmetal. Even if I do translate them for conversation purposes.

THE WAY THE COLOURS ARE DIFFERENT IN OUR WORLD AND AMESTRIS. Our world having dark, faded colours. And then Al's bright cloak flashbangs you! Yay! Even when he moves worlds, the colours are a bit dulled.

I liked how Ed looked out of place in Amestris. That his hair wasn't as golden as it had been in the series, at least to my memory.

And yeah, I could go on, but I risk repeating and becoming illegible. I've also been writing this over the course of an entire day after I lost the first draft :')

I did my best to make it coherent, but I definitely forgot some stuff.

[serendertothesquad]

Seren's Studies: Odd Squad UK -- "The Other Ozzie" Episode Followup, Part 2

Look, I'm not gonna lie...whoever said this episode was good is someone I'm gonna smack. Because my lower body is screaming from dashing to McDonald's, but my hands are primed.

I kid, I kid. I will not smack anyone. But let's see what happens after the break anyway.

Okay, when I said in my followup for "Oddtober the Thirteenth" that this was gonna fuck with the timeline, I said it with "it's not actually gonna happen, right?" confidence.

WELL GUESS THE FUCK WHAT IT'S FUCKING WITH THE TIMELINE AND FUCK YOU JON. KA-CHOW YOUR WAY INTO THE CANNON.

Halfway in, I'm getting the unsettling feeling that, much like Marty Marmalade was previously, Oz is meant to be an audience surrogate for all the kids who can't figure this shit out. Not as strictly as Marty was, but the sentiment is still very much there.

Sorry, Orli, but this episode you're getting dethroned.

"Without a script, I'm useless."

"But you're...you're reciting lines from a script right now."

"No, no. I need the script in my hand. That's how this works, I'm afraid."

"You know what I'm going to say, don't you, Agent Onit?"

"Can I just tell you the name of the place? Without giving you the coordinates?"

"I understand you need to tell them for the math lesson, but give me the name of the place first."

"...The writers are breathing down my ne-"

"JUST DO IT."

No no no. If you were green, you'd be de- stop. Stop it. STOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHP-

In which Oz finally learns about autonomy as a member of the Homo sapiens species.

And still botches it up anyway because...uh...

I dunno, can I headcanon him as autistic? Is...can I do that? Because the more I think about it, the more I start to do an "oh my God, I can relate" DiCaprio point.

This "I'm not good with faces" bit isn't really funny to me. Again, you can have a gag, but there's a difference between spacing it out and using it for everyone. When you do the latter, it's a very irritating inconvenience.

Wh- since fucking when? He's cartoonish, sure, but that doesn't exactly translate to being fast.

Jon, my guy, you're going up there with the ranks of Omar and Tasha and I don't like that.

So if he gets a bunch of ideas at once, will he get a migraine? Will his head and brain explode in a big gory mess?

Yeeeeeeeeah, an exciting chase to catch the villain! ...That will only last for less than a minute.

Won't get fooled again...until I'm fooled again.

Now, see, this portal effect is cool. It looks like glittery slime. I like it.

Timetastrophe? Jon's never heard of he.

Seriously, I devised better rules in The Odd Squad Council and yes that is a shameless self-plug and no I don't regret anything.

Ahhhhhh, here it is. The famous blooper reel of the episode. The blooper reel that we really should have gotten for the entire franchise.

Honestly, we should have gotten this dramatic announcer guy a good 8 years ago when they were advertising the first movie.

Okay, I was half-expecting this, but my attention's really more on how Orby is just Orli with glitter scrunchies. (And Oz is just Ozzie with sunglasses, but y'know, that's a little bit besides my point.)

Like I said, this is the blooper reel we should have gotten for the franchise, but instead get tacked onto the end of a decent-but-also-terrible episode.

If you're willing to film BTS content, you're willing to share the blooper reel. Make that a hashtag!

EVEN THE ANNOUNCER GUY IS FUCKIN' FED UP WITH THIS SHIT AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Oh God...I wasn't expecting to cackle but this was an absolutely beautiful cherry on top.

Guy who knows autonomy, meet a girl who doesn't.

And your credits for this episode. Real shame they didn't give the Mayor a name like with Mackelmore, but I call him Ryan Lewis and I'm fandom founder so you have to listen to-

------------------------------------

Overall, this was...a hard pill to swallow. Between the board of villains and...well...Oz, this episode is not one I'm particularly fond of. I feel like if they explored a bit more of the Movie Star Dimension instead of staying in the world we know, it would have been better. The way it is now, it seems more like they're trying to shove a unique concept in there but failing to make it actually unique aside from Oz himself.

And speaking of Oz...enough with the damn Math Lady memes. I'm like the "stop talking about Among Us" guy but it's "stop doing Math Lady". Get with the times, boomers.

Well, now that that's over, we've reached the finale, kicking things off with "Three is the Oddest Number", which will introduce the Terrible Three. Confidence not inspired in me, but I have a small sliver of hope. Just a small one.

Seren out!

[billyrussohaven]

Into My Web

Chapter 18

Dark!Vampire!Billy Russo x Female Reader

Cowritten with @the-cult-of-russo

Ratings: Explicit 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Although this chapter might not include it, this fic will include; Sexual situations, swearing, human slave, biting, blood, murder, obsessive thoughts, dub con, Stockholm syndrome, gaslighting.

You looked up from your bowl of cereal to a dashing looking Billy in his best suit. You forgot your spoon halfway to your mouth and stared at him, mouth slightly open. A wide smirk crept onto his face at your reaction. He knew he was good looking but it didn't mean he didn't enjoy his ego being stroked by his favorite little human.

The sound of milk dripping from your now tilted spoon shook you out of it and you kept eating.

"You know the rules," he muttered as he made sure his tie was straight. It had been a good few days since he'd first been back to work and he was easing back into it. He had an important client meeting today and he wasn't looking forward to it. Meeting stuck up people drove him nuts but he'd be getting a nice sum of money for it so he'd do it with a charming smile.

"Yes, I'll behave or be punished," you said between two mouthfuls looking up at him with a smile. You really didn't want to be anywhere else anyway.

"Oh! By the way, do you have any more movies? Cuzz I've watched all the drawer ones like twice now," you asked with a little pout. You didn't really know what to do with your day since you've done most of today's chores in advance this week.

He was smoothing some stray hairs back in the mirror and he turned to look at you with a smirk. He moved to grab his laptop before putting it in front of you, pornhub open for you. He figured you'd have plenty to entertain yourself with and maybe you'd learn a few new things.

"Oh my God! There's just so many!," you said open-mouthed looking at his laptop screen. There seemed to be thousands of short to long videos of all kinds. You'd need weeks to even see half of them.

"Daily uploads? Does that mean they even add more everyday to the thousands already there?!" You asked incredulously looking up at Billy with absolute astonishment.

Billy bit his lip to stifle a laugh. You had the enthusiasm of a teenage boy first discovering porn and it amused him greatly.

"Yeah. There's a lot on here, I'm sure you'll find some things you like," he said as he grabbed his coat and put it on.

"Whoa…" You said already browsing the site unblinking while eating your cereals. He shook his head with a snort, giving you one last look. It was nice to not be so worried about you trying to escape or run off while he did his work. It still shocked him how much things had changed between the pair of you. He really wouldn't have guessed sex would be the key to your obedience.

"Alright, I'm headin' out. Be good," he said firmly as he made his way to the door.

"Bye," you said looking up from the screen quickly. He nodded before he swiftly left, leaving you to browse all the porn until your heart's content.

You got up from the table at some point to do the few daily chores you could do while he was at work. You then flopped down on the couch with his laptop and went back to the site he had opened up for you. After a few videos, some just grossing you out only two seconds into it, you saw a little account button. You clicked on it being the curious kitten that you were and saw his account page. It was mostly blank but the thing that really caught your attention was the tab named watched videos. You clicked on it and it was exactly what you hoped it'd be. You quickly scrolled down to the first video you remembered watching and went backwards from there.

It was very interesting and intimate to watch videos he enjoyed, some even liked with the heart-shaped button. You watched those with a particular interest, trying to pinpoint what he seemed to enjoy about them. A few videos later, you ended up on a very different scene and it wasn’t just one in a million, the same scenes and title act was repeated on multiple videos. You went back to the first and clicked play again.

The lady was tied up standing with her back to a weird X-shaped wooden cross thingy. The room was very bare and much like the creepy basement under your feet. You scrolled forward a bit to a handsome man towering over her, reminding you of Billy's dominance over you. You felt goosebumps flare all over your skin at the thought of it. A knife appeared out of nowhere in his hand and he proceeded to strip her of her clothes, the sharp knife cutting into the cloth easily. Once she was all naked for him to enjoy, he ran the point of the knife down her chest leaving a red scratch behind. That was something you did with your nails once and Billy enjoyed it too, just like the girl on screen making little needy sounds.

The man slowly and carefully cut into her skin with the knife near her right ribcage. It wasn't a deep cut but it started to bleed nonetheless. He did a few more cuts on her body staying away from her arteries as you remembered what you learned reading the library anatomy book. The man smeared the blood on her body with his hands and proceeded to lick his way down her body.

Knife play. Blood play.

You watched a second video only this time it really piqued your interest. A man and a woman devouring each other's body with haste and a roughness you knew very well. Only this time, they both cut each other. You watched the man fall to pieces under her dominance and it fascinated you. How he groaned when she licked his dripping blood and when she dangerously threatened him with the sharp blade over his arteries. He seemed to worship her for it, the blood play, the dangerous teasing… You wanted to be her.

After a few more videos you closed the laptop shut and put it away on the coffee table. You took a deep breath and stood to pace around a bit, your cheeks feeling very hot and your brain going a thousand miles an hour. You looked thoughtful with your vacant eyes and biting your thumb nail.

Billy could absolutely not do that to you, being a vampire, blood, killing you and all… But maybe you could do it to him. After all, you knew very well where he kept most of his weapons around the house. You also had an almost empty basement right under your feet with plenty of room to set something nice up.

The more you thought the more the scene became clearer and clearer in your head and you realized you really wanted it. You remembered how sweet his blood tasted the other day. Your mouth almost watered at the thought of it. You slightly wondered if it was a vampire thing because when you hurt yourself that time Billy just took off to not kill you, you had a taste and it wasn’t yummy at all.

You looked at the clock on the wall and made a decision. You had three hours to go. It was now or never.

You had prepared a little makeshift scene downstairs that reminded you of that Aladdin movie you watched the other day. The basement floor being concrete was definitely gonna be a bitch on your bones. So you might have stolen the guest room carpet, a couple of pillows and throw blankets here and there.

The comfort part of the evening being taken care of, the lighting part was still problematic. The bright swinging light bulb on the ceiling was just gonna kill every chance of this being a success. You ran back upstairs and looked for candles. You remembered Billy telling you where they were in case of an electrical issue. He could see in the dark, you'd just break your neck with how clumsy you were sometimes.

You took a couple of candlesticks with their small holders and a pack of matches. You hurried back downstairs and finished prepping everything up. You looked at the time and hurried up for a quick shower to freshen up. You tried to put some make-up, finally using those samples you got from the pampering day with Karen. It wasn't bad, very subtle but you liked it. Then it was time for the last pieces of the evening, beside Billy, obviously.

You took some lingerie he had gotten you the other day and put the bodysuit on. The black shiny straps over your hips and bum felt very comfortable, caging you safely in. One long single strap ran up your torso, between your bare breasts and ended in a choker around your neck. You carefully applied the heart-shaped pasties to your breasts and looked at yourself in the bedroom mirror.

You wondered if you were gonna make a fool of yourself and piss him off. It was a very, very fine line you were playing with and it could definitely mean the closet AND the wobbly stool all over again. If he wouldn't just take the knife and kill you with it.

"Urg!! Stop freaking out and be confident for once" You said angrily to your reflection stumping down your foot. You knew he'd love it. You remembered how he reacted the other day when he nipped his lip and you kissed it clean. If the dozens of videos on his laptop account wasn't proof enough already. You squared your shoulder and kept your chin up.

You took a detour to where you knew some weapons of his were. You carefully picked a knife that felt comfortable in your smaller hand and put everything back like you found it. He'd be home any minute now, you couldn’t back out now. You made your way to the basement and waited hid in the shadows, the knife in your hand.

By the time Billy was getting home, he was tense and tired. He hadn't been able to check the cameras since that morning, stuck in meeting after meeting. The important client meeting ran on for what felt like forever and the man was a grade A asshole but Billy really wanted his money. And if all that wasn't bad enough, Frank kept trying to talk to him. Luckily he was too busy so he avoided it but he knew soon he wouldn't be able to. He wasn't as mad at Frank since some time had passed but the betrayal of Frank trying to take you away from him still stung like a bitch. He wasn't sure why he thought it'd be a good idea to take you there. He knew it wouldn't be, knew how Frank would react. And at the time the urge to bring you was explained by him wanting to push Frank's buttons for always making him feel like a bad guy. But it wasn't just that, he'd really just wanted you to meet his family for some reason. A reason he wasn't sure of nor would he look into too deeply.

Not being able to keep an eye on you for most of the day left Billy feeling agitated. He missed your presence and he had no idea if you'd been a good girl or not. He'd be pretty pissed if he got home and you'd ran off again. As he unlocked the front door, your scent hit him, your heartbeat in his ears. He untensed a little knowing you were here as he toed off his shoes by the door and made his way further inside. It was oddly quiet which made him suspicious as he moved into the living room. Your heart rate was pretty fast and he stood still in the centre of the room as he closed his eyes and tried to pinpoint it. Your scent was also sweeter, as it usually was when you were excited but it was also tinged with some nerves. He had no idea what you were up to.

"Kitten?" He called out, dark eyes sweeping around the room. He got no answer and his eyes narrowed slightly.

He slowly followed the sound of the fluttering of your heart, going towards the basement. What the fuck were you doing in the basement? You waited till the last second before jumping out of the doorway, right in front of him with the blade at his chest. You grinned wickedly and tried to suppress chuckles by biting your lower lip.

It didn't startle him in the least and a smirk tugged at his lips at how unbelievably adorable you were. His eyes raked over your body in the lingerie and he felt the deep tugging of arousal pulling at him. It was only increased by his knife you were holding.

"Whatcha doin' with the knife, kitten?" He asked amused, brow raised as he looked at you.

"I prepared a little surprise for you," you said with a smirk, running the pointy end of the knife down his chest.

"Did you now?" He asked in a low voice, intrigued and turned on. He had no idea just what you had planned but he knew he was looking forward to it. He couldn't take his eyes off you, all dressed up for him with a deadly weapon in your hands. His dick was already hard and straining against his pants.

"Mmhmm! Although it'd be a shame to ruin one of your suits," you said thoughtfully, tapping the blade on his chest as you wondered how pissed he'd be if you cut into it with the knife. His eyes darted to the knife before back to your face, a brow quirked.

"But I'll be a very, very good girl for you if you let me?" You asked a bit sheepishly, batting your eyelashes at him. You were about to do very bold things you'd never ever had thought you could do and live to tell the tale. You reached for his hand to slowly pull him forward and downstairs with you.

Billy really wasn't sure what you had planned for him but he was incredibly curious and so turned on that he followed willingly, wanting to see just where the night would go. He didn't think it would hurt to at least see what kind of things you had in mind. If he wasn't into it then he could put a stop to it no problems.

You were relieved to feel him follow you willingly without too many questions. You carefully went down the stairs so as not to fall and stab yourself like an idiot. You led him near the little love nest you had prepared and let go of his hand so he could take in the scene. You sat on a pillow like a mermaid on a rocky shore, inviting him into your deadly loving arms.

Billy's dark eyes travelled around the normally cold and miserable basement, brows raised and a smirk on his lips. Honestly, he was impressed. He wondered how long it took you to set all this up and he was a little grateful he hadn't been able to spy on you.

"So… what are these plans?" He asked, moving to sit next to you as his eyes drank in the sight of you looking so pretty for him.

You moved so you were straddling his lap, wanting to be close to him for this.

"Well, I thought we could do something...new," you said to him with a naughty smirk. His hands smoothed up your hips over the lingerie and to your uncovered sides, settling in the dip of your waist as he looked at you curiously.

"New?" He asked intrigued. His eyes couldn't stop roaming your body and how adorably delicious you looked with the heart shaped pasties on.

"I might have found some previously watched videos on that site you showed me," you said, biting your lower lips and looking up into his eyes almost timidly. He hummed with a smirk, his hands moving to your ass and palming it as he watched you. He was incredibly curious about what you'd been watching.

"Saw somethin' you liked, kitten?" He asked teasingly.

"Mmhmm. I was hoping you'd let me...try something..new and not..get mad? Maybe?" You said nervously, sounding like an idiot. You rather sound like an idiot for a minute and break the mood than stay quiet and end up dead for your boldness.

He leaned closer and trailed his nose along your neck up to your ear. Your pulse was going a mile a minute and the predator in him loved it.

"Consider me interested," he purred before nipping your ear. He really had no clue what you wanted to try that might make him mad but he'd keep it in mind since you spoke to him first for his blessing. If he didn't like it he'd just tell you.

You grinned and leaned forward to kiss him deeply. You put the knife down for now and pulled him closer to you by his tie. He moaned into the kiss, hands still on your ass as he pressed you against him. He was already worked up from being away from you all day and coming home to you like this.

You slid your hands inside his jacket and slid it off his shoulders as you nipped his lower lip with a chuckle. You decided you'd keep part of his suit intact for now. He couldn't keep his hands off you, caressing your soft curves as he felt his need for you increase.

You kissed his lips, his neck and made sure to keep him under you for now as you teased him. You helped him out of his waistcoat and moved off his lap to undo his belt slowly, way too slowly. You loved how he looked back at you with dark and narrowed eyes . It made you feel almost power drunk as you grinned wickedly.

He smirked as he raised a brow. You were lucky you were being so cute with your teasing.

"I'm startin' to see why you thought I'd get mad," he drawled playfully. He wanted nothing more than to pin you down and fuck you until you lost your voice, but he was far too curious about whatever plans you had for him.

You laughed sweetly and it echoed off the concrete walls around you. You finished undressing him of his pants, leaving him with the three pieces of clothing you were definitely cutting into. You moved back to his lap and yanked on his tie a little rougher than you'd dare.

"That was just the opening act," you teased, hovering above his lips taking hold of the knife with the other hand.

He groaned, fingers digging into your thighs as he tried to chase your lips. Your confidence caught him off guard a little but he'd be a liar if he said he wasn't enjoying it. He liked teasing. Usually he was the one giving it out but it didn't mean he didn't like to be on the receiving end of it. He had a limit though and he wondered just how far you were going to push him.

You brought the dull edge of the knife to his perfectly defined jawbone and ran the blade over his skin. You still had a death grip on his tie with the other hand. The feel of the cold metal against his skin made him arch up at you with a soft moan. Excitement ran through his body as he watched you with rapt attention. He hadn't thought you'd be into knifeplay but he was more than happy to take part in your little fantasy.

You carefully slid the blade between his tie and his shirt, aiming the blade away from you both. You gave him a smirk and easily cut through the tie with the knife. You dangled the ruined tie before tossing it away, looking at him for his reaction. A sly smirk spread on his lips and he bit his lower lip. His suit was expensive but he wasn't really upset about it when the whole thing turned him on this much. He could always buy another, it wasn't like he didn't have the money.

"Naughty kitty," he smirked, eyes dancing with amusement.

"Kitty has claws today," you said back, amused and pleased by this whole new leading experience. You just couldn’t stop grinning, smirking and biting your lower lip. He chuckled as he watched you. He wasn't sure how you could be cute when doing something intense like this but you managed it and he loved it. He was enjoying seeing this side to you.

You pushed him back with one hand on his chest so he'd lay back down. You weren't sure where to cut his dress shirt. You rolled your hips over his covered cock and you considered how to go about this. He moaned as he grasped your hips, squirming under you a little. He didn't think he'd be content to let his little pet play dominant with him but so far he was enjoying himself.

You tilted your head to the side and nodded, you knew how to do this. You lifted the hem of his dress shirt and slid the blade under it. Once you saw the knife peek out at his neck you playfully kept sliding upwards until the pointy blade was poking under his chin. He tilted his head a little, arching his neck as his almost black eyes bore into you.

You swiftly pulled the knife back down cutting through the threads holding the buttons which went flying everywhere. You were done teasing, you wanted the main event now. You quickly opened up his ruined shirt and licked at the skin of his chest, moaning. He groaned, very much enjoying the erotic show you were putting on for him.

You reached down hurriedly with your free hand to stroke his ridiculously hard cock, making a loud moan leave his lips as he arched up into your hand. You gave him some good relief before sliding off his lap and carefully, cutting through his boxers on each side. Vampire or not, you wanted to keep his balls very much away from the blade.

He was starting to feel delirious from how badly he needed you. The little friction you'd given him wasn't enough. He watched with rapt attention and his now red eyes as you cut at his boxers. There was something deeply alluring about the sight of you with his knife like this.

You yanked on his ruined boxers giggling. You loved just how much he let you try this freely, letting you lead and all. He smirked up at you, glad you were also enjoying yourself. His patience was starting to wane though, he wasn't sure how long he'd let you have you fun until he took over.

You moved back to straddle his lap, one hand caressing his chest. You leaned forward, your lips crashing on his as you kissed him hard. He kissed back hungrily with a groan, rubbing himself against you for some mild relief. His hands were everywhere at once as he touched anywhere he could get his hands on.

You pressed the sharp part of the blade down on his right pect and slid the knife quickly so you wouldn't chicken out of it. You stopped moving, the knife still in the air in your hand, waiting for his reaction. You were either gonna live or die.

He felt a wave of arousal and pleasure shoot right through him as he gasped and he looked up at you a little shocked. A wicked grin worked its way onto his face as he grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your face towards his roughly.

"Harder," he demanded, needing more.

You hissed as he pulled you toward him but you relaxed instantly when he spoke. You looked at his chest and wondered just how much harder he meant. You put the knife back to his chest and pushed down harder, hesitating.

"I'm not sure how much you can take, I don't wanna hu-" your sentence never finished itself as your eyes stared at the first cut. It was already completely healed. The only clue there was ever a cut there was the few drops of blood still there. Your eyebrows flew upwards as you stared down at him with amazement.

"Vampire, sweetheart. I heal fast," he grinned, red eyes boring into you intensely. The fact you didn't want to hurt him was amusing and adorable. The fact you thought you of all people could cause him harm was laughable.

You cut into him quick and sharp. It left a bigger cut than the previous one but as you stared at it, you could already see it healing over. You looked at his face and understood what harder meant. He gave you a dirty smirk as he raised a challenging brow at you, hands gripping your hips tightly.

Your free hand smeared the small amount of blood over his chest and you sucked your fingers clean. You moaned, enjoying the sweet taste of it. A part of your brain knew it was blood but it didn't taste like blood. You couldn't even start to comprehend what it tasted like. You just knew you loved it as you rubbed yourself over his cock, wishing you were naked too.

He saw how your pupils dilated and heard how your heart rate changed. You liked the taste of his blood and it would have left him breathless if he had a need to breathe. He was so hard he was aching for you and he moaned at the friction you were providing him with. His patience was really wearing thin and he grabbed the lingerie you were wearing and ripped it with ease, the sound of the material ripping filling the room. He wanted you and he wanted you now.

You gasped at how easily he tore through it and it shot a wild jolt of pleasure through you making you moan loudly. You rubbed your wet pussy over his cock and brought the knife down again. This time, you really cut through and blood spilled out of the wound.

An absolutely filthy moan left his lips as the mixture of pleasure and pain ripped through his body and brought all of his senses alive. He'd never found anyone willing to play so rough with him before.

"More," he growled, needing more of the feelings you were giving him.

You gave him a wicked smile. You've never seen him this needy before and it made you feel empowered. You moved your hips to finally take all of him inside you as you slid the knife down his ribs cutting him again. He gasped, back arching at feeling you so wet and tight around him.

His moans were music to your ears, it sent goosebumps all over your skin. You rode him hard, smearing his blood all over his own chest. You grinned at him as you leaned down to lick the blood running down all over him. He was an absolute mess, writhing and moaning like a bitch in heat under you. He didn't think he'd ever felt such euphoria before but it was overwhelming him. Seeing you licking up his blood had him precariously close to the edge of his release.

You moaned and made a bloody mess out of your lower face, not caring about staying clean as you licked and sucked the blood off him. It felt surreal, otherworldly, like every inch of your body was electrified. You rode him faster sitting up and running your messy hand all over your skin.

You were a vision with his blood painting your skin like this. A Goddess. He didn't think he'd seen a sight more beautiful than this before. His hands joined yours, taking in every inch of your skin and smearing his blood along your body as he went. He was still gasping and moaning, the pleasure running rampant through his body.

A wild thought crossed your mind and you bit your lower lip hard as the images flipped through your eyes. You stopped riding him and slid off his lap to lay down next to him.

"Come play with kitten," you invited him, legs wide open and a naughty grin, twirling the knife in your hand.

A growl rumbled deep in the back of his throat and he practically pounced on you, his lips devouring your blood tinged mouth as he pushed inside of you with a loud moan. Even though it was his own blood, he liked the way your tongue tasted with it. He was rutting into you like an animal, pure primal need taking over his body as the beast took over him.

You wrapped your legs around him, kissing him back with the same hunger.

"Have I been a good girl?" You chimed in playfully. You barely gave him time to answer, you were already cutting him down the middle of his chest. A guttural moan got ripped from him at the intense pain and pleasure.

It was messy and deeper than you predicted as his blood dripped down on your stomach and breasts. You tossed the knife next to you both and used both hands to smear every drop of it on both of you. He knelt up, still inside of you as he thrust into you hard and fast. You were covered in his blood and he watched you eagerly as you rubbed it all over your body.

You moaned, kneading your blood covered breasts as he looked down on you with need. He felt almost desperate for release, this whole thing the most erotic thing he'd ever experienced. He went at you harder, his hand sliding down your blood covered stomach to between your legs. He started rubbing frenzied circles around your clit with his bloodied fingers, his hips snapping to yours almost violently as his moans filled the room.

You gripped at the carpet hard, you back arching up as he furiously pleasured you. You felt like you were gonna explode in a thousand pieces, it just kept building up and up. You couldn't stop gasping and moaning so loud your throat hurt. You ran your bloodied hands in your hair and closed your fists in them. You looked at him before shutting your eyes tightly and came with such force your shoulders left the floor. You gasped for air between screams of pleasure echoing all around you.

It pushed him right over the edge, pure and raw pleasure tearing right through his body. He came hard with a loud moan, spilling himself inside of you. The wave of bliss washed over him and it was like nothing he'd ever felt before. The intensity of the sex making it so much stronger than what he was used to. It was like he'd had a hit of heroin or something. His body suddenly felt like jello and he lay on top of you, careful not to put too much of his weight on you so he didn't crush you. He nuzzled your neck, practically purring as he let the feelings linger in his system.

You flopped back trying to catch your breath. You moved your hands to play in his hair and caress his cool skin.

"That was…" you panted under him. It had been such an intense experience you didn't have words for it. Your throat hurt from all the loud screaming and moaning, it made it hard to swallow.

He chuckled and placed a sweet kiss to your neck.

"It was," he murmured. He didn't think you had it in you if he was honest. It was way more than what he was used to with his many one nighters. He didn't think he'd ever felt this content before.

You laid there for a while enjoying the weight of his body as you played with his hair. Your brain was now thinking clearly, pass the primal and foggy haze of sex. You had stepped way beyond the line with him tonight and it made you wonder if he'd punish you even if he seemed to have loved it. You moved your head a bit and looked at him.

"I'll clean everything up before bed. I know you like to keep your home tidy," you said with a bit of a weak smile, blowing on the nearest lit candle. You didn't want to clean at all. You felt physically and mentally exhausted. The last thing you needed was to heave the carpet upstairs and clean the damn thing. You clearly didn't think the whole thing through.

He moved off you and ran a hand through his hair.

"Nah, leave it for now. Let's go get clean," he replied. He did like his home tidy but right then he couldn't care less. You'd been a very good girl and he thought he could at least give you the rest of the night off so you could sleep and recuperate. You were covered in his blood and while blood was nothing to him, you were human and he knew once your high wore off it'd be uncomfortable for you. He very much wanted a repeat of this sometime so he wanted to make sure it was a pleasant experience. Even after.

He stood up, taking your hand and helping you stand. After blowing out all of the candles so his house didn't burn down, he led you upstairs to the bathroom. He set to work getting towels ready and turning the shower on warm for you.

You were shivering so much your body jerked in spasms making you gasp sharply. You crossed your arms over your chest in hope to warm you up. You felt cold but it was an odd cold, it felt hollow somehow.

Billy glanced at you and frowned. He had a feeling you were feeling the drop after such intense sex and he needed to make sure you were okay so you didn't see this as a bad experience.

"C'mon," he murmured softly as he guided you into the shower.

You walked in the shower with a small hiss when the hot water hit your skin. You almost backed away but you knew better. You looked down to the blood tinged water running between your toes. Billy's blood. You knew it wasn't yours so why did your chest feel so hollow and painful. You frowned, annoyed with your reaction and knowing very well he'd be aware of your change of mood. You kept your head down and rubbed the dried blood on your arms with shaky hands.

Billy was keeping a close eye on you. Your heart rate, your scent. He could tell you were dropping and fast. He took your hands and moved them from your body, taking over as he gently started to wash his blood off you. He was feeling unusually calm and sated, the animalistic sex had soothed the beast inside of him so much he was sure it was asleep. He felt almost human, it would have been unsettling if he wasn't feeling so calm.

You looked at him through the corner of your eye and it made your chest hurt even more. His presence wasn't soothing like usual, it felt painful and sharp. It made you feel alone, like he was a foot away from you but it felt like he was miles away.

You were so quiet and seemed in your own head, it was a little worrying. He hoped he hadn't gone and broke you. This whole thing was your idea and it was amazing. He'd be pretty pissed if this was what pushed you over the edge after everything else he'd done to you.

"You're okay, kitten," he soothed softly as he cleaned you up, the blood washing down the drain.

Kitten. You loved his pet name for you so why did it make you cry?

"Excuse me, I-I'm not, I don't know what's happening. I don't feel good. Why am I feeling so…" you stammered frowning, having no idea if there was a word for what you felt. You had loved surprising him and it had been a really crazy experience you enjoyed a lot. You loved when he touched you, when he kissed you and smiled at you. He's been super kind to you this week so your reaction deeply confused you.

He heaved a deep sigh, gathering you in his arms as he cradled your head against his chest.

"It was intense, your body's just tryin' to handle it. You don't gotta worry, you'll be fine. I got you," he murmured, stroking your wet hair as he held you close to him. Maybe he felt a little bad. Just a little. You clearly weren't used to things like this and you'd done it for him. And he knew you'd enjoyed yourself while it was happening. Your little human body was just struggling to deal with it. He didn't like the guilt blooming in his chest. Billy Russo didn't do guilt. He needed it to stop and the only options he had were to snap your neck or comfort you. And since he quite liked having you around he decided to settle on the latter. He stroked your hair soothingly as he held you tight, nuzzling the top of your head as he tried to ease you through the shaking.

You melted into his embrace one hand around him to his lower back and the other resting on his arm. You closed your eyes, focused on the smell of his cool skin and took deep breaths. You loved how safe you felt in his arms, how it warmed up your chest and made your heart all fuzzy.

"Thank you for being patient with me. That's not how I pictured the end of the evening," you said sniffing a bit with a chuckle. He smiled to himself and placed a kiss to your head.

"You've been a very good girl. Just lemme take care of you now, alright?" He said softly, moving to look at you. You looked up at him and gave him a soft smile, nodding. You rested your head on his chest and sighed peacefully.

[lululawrence]

Hi— can you tell me what queue means? I saw your comment “cue the queue” and I see lots of people saying phrases with queue in it but I don’t understand.

hiiiiii!! okay so when i think of a queue i firstly think of a line. that's how the british use it, and that's basically what i think of when i think of it. you're waiting for your turn to be able to check out or talk to the service desk, and you're standing in line, otherwise known as a queue.

that's basically where the concept of a queue comes from when you think of digital things like when you're listening to music on spotify and don't want to get out of your playlist but want to add a song that isn't on the playlist into the play cycle, you can add that song to the queue or in netflix when you're adding movies that you want to have in a separate little area for you to remember to watch later, you add them to the queue as well. it's maybe not an actual physical line, but more like the list of what is coming up or what you'd like to have waiting for you.

the queue on tumblr is the same kind of thing. a lot of us utilize the queue feature because they are posts that you like and enjoy and want to reblog, but doesn't necessarily need to be reblogged right away (does anything really actually need to be reblogged right away? very few things do. anyway...). there are a lot of reasons people might use the queue feature. i know some people are only able to get on tumblr for an hour or two every day but want their blog to remain active even when they aren't there, so they fill their queue and have it post during the hours they know they can't be online, and others might have their own reasons to use a queue, but for me, i usually use it for a few different reasons.

the first is because i don't want to completely spam people with like 200 posts in 20 or 30 minutes and then just be completely gone for the rest of the day or even more than that. i still spam people when i'm online lololol but not nearly as bad as it would be if i wasn't constantly adding posts to my queue to post later lol

another reason is that i can't be on regularly, so i do like my blog staying active even if i'm not online. it feels like less pressure for me to be on and keeping up with everything for some reason, even though there's literally no pressure? i dunno. i like feeling present even if i'm not able to actually be there if that makes sense.

another reason though, and one i'm becoming more and more passionate about as time goes on and the culture of fandom continues to shift, is that i get frustrated with the speed with which things seem to come and go, content wise. if i am not able to be online during a louis show or harry or niall or whatever or in the immediate hours that follow, i feel like there's little to no chance of me seeing any content from that show unless i actually go to update accounts and seek out that content myself and i don't... do well with remembering what the update accounts are since i don't really follow them closely lmao i like coming across the content on my dash because people are still basking in it hours, days, weeks, YEARS later. so when the content starts coming out for the shows and i'm able to be online, i only actually reblog maybe half of what i'm seeing and i try to queue the rest so that they will still come up later. try to slow down the content a little bit and help it still be seen beyond those first few hours, show there's still a desire to have that content out there even if the gifs aren't posted immediately or whatever.

TAKE YOUR TIME MAKING THE CONTENT FOR WHATEVER SHOW OR VIDEO OR WHATEVER YOU CHOOSE TO MAKE. I PROMISE I WANT IT AND IF I SEE IT I WILL REBLOG WHENEVER IT GOES UP. or i'll queue it. if you see me liking a post of yours and it isn't immediately reblogged, it's okay. it WILL BE. i've liked it to show myself later it's okay, i have either previously reblogged it or i have queued it so i know i will have it on my blog in an attempt to not have too many repeats. lol which still happens cause my memory is horrible. but yeah.

so anyway. that's what a queue is. and a lot of us use silly tags for our queue that is usually a play on words or sounds or whatever. mine is cue the queue because i like homophones (words that are spelled differently but said the same way) and so i use that. but yeah, unfortunately the tag is only added if i'm on desktop, it doesn't automatically add when i'm on mobile which is annoying and therefore only maybe 1/3 of the time do the posts that are posting from my queue have that tag, but it's okay. i do try. (those of us that tag for our queues use a tag so that people can see the blog is active but they can know that while the posts are there, we aren't actually online. that way people don't think we're like purposefully ignoring them or something if they reach out and we don't immediately respond)

and there you have it! i hope this is thorough enough in what a queue is, why it exists, and what the tags might mean so everything you keep seeing people mentioning or talking about makes sense for you :D

[ofanswereddreams]

NIGHT TRIUMPHANT. A private, selective RHYSAND from Sarah J. Maas' ACOTAR. 21+ only. Written by Amy (she/her/hers.) Established May 2024.

carrd | memes | pinterest

There are different kinds of darkness. There is the darkness that frightens, the darkness that soothes, the darkness that is restful... there is the darkness of lovers, and the darkness of assassins. It becomes what the bearer wishes it to be, needs it to be. It is not wholly bad or good.

MAINS: @firehcart, @stareternyl and @wickedpeachie

All graphics by @unknownfaed

A Note for Personal Blogs: Please DO NOT reblog my posts. It clogs up my notifications, and since this blog is for roleplaying, I need those free for thread replies. I'm cool with liking or commenting, but please don't reblog.

A Note on Politics: I'm just going to state this plainly right off the bat so no one misinterprets where I stand. I have never voted for Donald Trump, and I am angry and worried about the politics of the USA. However, I also do not want to discuss politics on the dash or see a lot of political content. You won't find me posting about it here either. The reason is that, due to my particular upbringing, the MAGA cult has already infected and torn apart my family relationships and caused stress to my in-person friendships. I'm already politically active in my personal life, and I discuss politics all the time on my other, personal social media. Tumblr has been (until recently) my one place of retreat from the stress of the USA's crazy, turbulent politics. I believe everyone has the right to express themselves and to set their own boundaries. I am not here to judge anyone for making different choices than I have. This note is merely to clarify my own perspective and set my own boundaries.

Content & Age Requirement: I'm well over 18, so this blog will have NSFW themes. (Given Rhys' background of SA, that's... unavoidable.) I usually just match the limits of my writing partner, so if you want to do a fade to black, I'm good with that. Since I'm over 18, I won't be writing with anyone UNDER 18. If you don't list an age on your blog, then we're not writing together. End of story.

Activity: I work full-time in an office, so my activity is usually limited to weekends (for replies at least.) I'm in Pacific Time or Mountain Time depending on time of year. I'm on Discord every day, so feel free to ask for my username. I actually prefer to plot/chat there vs in Tumblr DMs.

Writing/Formatting Style: I default to multi-paragraph, but I care MUCH more about the quality of your reply than the quantity of it, so DO NOT WORRY about length. As far as formatting goes, I don't do anything fancy. I likely won't be able to use GIFs or icons, because I'm a brat who chose an unusual FC for Rhys. Vivek Dhiman hasn't done any movies that I can find, just modeling, so photo resources for him are slim.

Plotting & Shipping: Y'all this is one of my fave things about the RPC!! I love to trade headcanons, discuss plot ideas and just generally squeal over our muses. Feysand is one of my all-time favorite couples, so... they will be endgame for me on this blog. I don't see him as having had other serious relationships in his 500+ years in Prythian, but if you want to be a past fling, feel free to toss it at me.

Interpretation & Lore: I've read all 5 ACOTAR books (the middle 3 multiple times), and I just finished the Throne of Glass series. I read CC1 and the first part of CC2 before giving up, but then I read all the crossover scenes in CC3 just so I can understand the Prythian lore. I subscribe to the theory that all 3 worlds are connected/are in different points in time. I adore all the theories and regularly consume them on TikTok. Can't wait to consume and contribute to them on Tumblr too muahaha. ANYWAY specifically for my interpretation of Rhysand, I... find the ACOSF pregnancy plot line to be unreasonably illogical (you can regrow wings and raise people from the dead with kernels of power, but you can't handle a fucking c-section?!) It strikes me as a way to sideline Feyre in the plot and a cheap "redemption" for Nesta with regard to the sister she has now spent decades abusing. I also find Rhys' character arc (bending back towards secrecy and keeping major revelations from Feyre) to be odd and confusing. However, since the ACOSF plotline for Feysand almost entirely revolves around things happening with Feyre's body, I will accommodate my plotting and interpretation around it to the particular Feyre I'm right with. Her body, her choice, after all.

Mains, Dupes, Exclusives & Selectivity: I'm open to having mains or affiliates. I'm not ever going to practice exclusives. If you're a single muse Rhysand blog, I won't be following you, but I don't care if you follow me. If you're on a multi, and Rhys is one of them, I'll follow if I plan to write with you. I AM selective in who I write with, so if I don't follow you back, it just means I don't see our muses being able to interact.

Interacting with Me: If you're interested in writing with me, don't be shy! Send me a meme, like a starter call, or come chat with me on Discord. I actually prefer to do a little bit of pre-plotting for a starter call response.

[just-sonic-things]

"Shadow Boxing" (Part 3)

Preparing for the "date" we were having later, I was a bit nervous. I wasn't really sure what to expect, since Shadow tried to lean into a more flirty angle the last time he was with me. Although, for the last day or two, he hadn't texted me at all. I asked him what time I should come over and Shadow just said to come over whenever was convenient for me. I told him to give me at least 20 minutes then I'd be over. He texted me his address with a smiley face. "Come soon, Handsome ;)" he added. I blushed softly upon even seeing being called handsome by someone who was quite dashing and easy on the eyes himself. Just thinking about his smile sent me into a bit of a frenzy. My heart was beating like crazy as I walked to his place and thought of him. It's as though the world around me didn't really exist and like I was just floating onward. Eventually, I showed up at his house. It was a small little place, fairly clean looking from the outside. I knocked on the door and waited for a moment. Shadow soon answered the door in what looked like a cute hoodie. He said that it was comfy and what he often fell asleep in. I smiled softly and offered him to "steal" one of mine sometime. He giggled.

"I'd love that. Yours would probably look so big on me though" Shadow replied.

"That's the point though, isn't it?" I said, lightly tapping the tip of his nose with my finger.

Shadow giggled again and patted the area next to him on the couch. He looked so cute and eager. I sat down next to him and he put on a movie. It was a horror movie of some kind. I wasn't really paying much attention to things. At one of the scarier parts, Shadow did that thing that girls usually do. He curled up into me, then looked up at me with those big, puppy dog eyes. I smiled softly, wrapping my arm around him. "You're safe, no worries" I said, kissing his forehead. Shadow sighed happily, sounding content. I held his hand for extra measure. His hand felt so small in mine, but it was a good fit regardless. I felt his heartbeat... Sort of fast. I joked that it was because he was leaning on me in such a manner. He playfully shoved me and insisted that it was because of the scary movie itself. I reminded him that we seemed to be barely paying attention anyway. Then, in a flirty manner, suggested that he sit on my lap instead. He was small enough that he could fit in my lap with no issue. Shadow blushed heavily. Got him. He giggled nervously, then shifted himself to be sitting on my lap. "Like this?" he asked, his body perfectly resting on my thighs. I nodded, kissing his cheek. I cuddled him closer to me as he practically laid on my lap.

We continued watching the movie for a little, riffing on it occasionally and just enjoying each other. However... By the end, we weren't really paying attention. Shadow had turned to face me and I was gazing into those soft, red eyes of his. He placed his arms around my shoulders and looked into mine. He kissed my forehead, then my cheeks. He seemed to pause, before kissing my lips softly. Shadow seemed apologetic, stating that he remembered I insisted we keep things slow. I smiled at him and said that kissing was pretty standard. Just not to escalate further beyond that for the time being. Shadow then looked at me with a somewhat sad look.

"About that... I may as well tell you now. Because I don't know how far our relationship will go. I am... I'm Asexual. Specifically... Greysexual. Meaning, I sometimes am insatiable. A lot of the time though, it's a no-go" Shadow stated matter of factly.

"Oh, is that all? It's okay. We'll work through that stuff together when we get to it. For now though... I'm sure kissing is enough for both of us then" I reassured him.

Shadow's sad look turned into a bit of a hopeful one. He honestly looked so adorable right now. I chuckled at his visible cuteness and kissed his cheek. He giggled softly, cuddling closer to me. We laid down like this for a little while. His head against my chest and my hand resting on his back. I eventually start running my hand along his back slowly, humming a bit to myself. Shadow smiled and shut his eyes for a moment. He seemed rather content to be in this position. He giggled as I kissed his forehead occasionally, just making me fall further for him. His little giggles and smiles, his blush... Everything about him just seemed like the most adorable thing ever to me. We put on some music and just cuddled for a while.

After a while, we decided to order some food and watch some random YouTube videos. A lot of his catalog looked like some premium "Get stuck in a rabbit hole" type content. The stuff you'd be watching randomly at 1 or 2 am when you couldn't fall asleep. We'd make commentary every now and then, but mostly just enjoyed each other's company. Every now and then, Shadow stole some of my food, making us launch into laughing fits as I'd steal his too. We were essentially playing around a bunch, barely paying much attention to the world around us. It didn't take long for the sun to set though... Considering the days were getting shorter and shorter. Meaning, I had been at this boy's house for hours now. But honestly, it felt so amazing to spend this much time with him. I asked Shadow if we could do this again some time. He smiled, kissing my cheek. "Any time, Baby" he said in a flirty way. Damn it, he knew just what to say to make me blush like an idiot.

Before I left for the night, Shadow and I arranged a more formal date next time. A movie and a restaurant afterward. After a boxing session in 2 days from now. Shadow kissed my lips with a little more passion in it this time around. When we pulled away, it's like my breath suddenly came back to me all at once. Shadow giggled, seeing the look on my face. "Until next time. See you later, Handsome" he said, making me blush. There it was again. He winked and stuck his tongue out at me. Damn it, he's so cute and he KNOWS it. I went back to my post at Angel Island, pacing around the Master Emerald. I gazed into it, looking at it's reflective surface. My dreads were a bit matted, but I managed to clean myself up a bit.

Two days seemed to take forever to come about. But when they did, I rushed to our usual training spot, equipment in hand. Shadow was waiting for me and seemed happy. He rushed to me, kissing the tip of my nose. "Morning, Love" he said in that deep voice of his. "Morning to you, Doll" I replied in a flirty tone, making him blush softly. I set everything down. First thing's first, push ups. Shadow got into proper push-up position and started the clock. Damn... His muscles were flexing a lot more this time around. I couldn't keep my eyes off of him, but I was still managing to keep track of how many he did. Two minutes came by quickly... 90 push-ups. "20 more than last time! Great job!" I said excitedly. Shadow seemed giddy at me commending him, as he bounced in place a little. So fucking cute.

Next up was the free weights. He insisted that he move up to the 20 lbs weight instead, stretching his arms a bit first. I told him that he had only lifted the 15 lbs ones at least twice. I wanted to see him lift them with ease before moving up a bit. He sighed, nodding in understanding. He took the weights in his hands and started his Curling reps. He did 40 in a row, then took a break. Then 20 more on the left side. Switching to the right and yielded the same results. I was genuinely impressed with his progress now. Next up? The punching bag. Shadow managed to stay at it for up to 15 minutes! I was really happy with his progress and I could tell he was too.

"Are you training with someone else while I'm not around?" I asked jokingly.

"No! I would never! It's you and only you. I just go to the gym by myself sometimes" Shadow replied, flexing his biceps.

I giggled softly, instinctively touching his bicep. Shadow smirked knowingly, flexing a bit more. He asked if I liked what I was feeling, with a subtle wink. I blushed a bit. "Maybe.." I replied, making him giggle softly. We took a bit of a break before moving to the practice fight. We actually did pretty decently, with him managing to kick my ass a bit more this time. In fact, he managed to pin me down. Shadow blushed heavily as he looked down at me.

"What's the matter? You want me to do it?" I teased. No response, but a soft squeal from him. I took that as a "Yes". I chuckled, pinning him down with ease. Shadow looked up at me with a look that said "I'll do what you want". I took advantage of this, leaning in for a kiss. Shadow reciprocated, the both of us kissing each other passionately for a bit. Once we finished, we realized that my body was more pressed against his. Shadow's hands were gliding along my somewhat muscular frame and he seemed marveled by it. "Years of practice" I said, flexing my own muscles for him. Shadow giggled, feeling my muscles more and more. After this bout of teasing from us both, we did more training exercises then we went back to his place. We both took turns taking a shower so we'd be clean for the movies and the restaurant.

The movie was alright, so we had a bit to talk about during dinner. We sort of riffed on it more and made our own little inside jokes and all. We even held hands at the table. At first, that was a bit iffy for me, only because I'm not the world's biggest fan of PDA. However, I got a bit more comfortable as Shadow's eyes only got softer and happier as I held onto him for that little bit longer. When we got our food, we saw a few people looking at us. Holding hands. They pointed at us and whispered amongst themselves. I rolled my eyes, just hoping that it was a one off, that they'd leave us alone and say nothing. Because, at the end of the day, it wasn't any of their business. Nope. The mother and father came over to our table and looked at us with that typical "Karen" rage. The mother started in on us and told us that our love was "disgusting".

"As is yours. Hence the spawn you call 'Children'. We saw you guys making out earlier and chose not to comment on it until now. In front of those 'children'. So THAT'S okay, but us holding hands is an outrage?" Shadow asked, sounding somewhat angry.

"Yeah, just leave us alone. We're literally not bothering you or your family over there. You just might explain our love in an extremely wrong way to your kids. Whatever. Not our business" I replied.

The mother and father seemed shocked, but they just scoffed and walked off from us. Fine by me, their mere presence was annoying for us. We ate, had lovely conversation, and then I walked Shadow home. He asked me if I wanted to stay the night, cuddle with him and all that. I agreed after he offered to make breakfast tomorrow morning for us. I went to Shadow's room with him and cuddled him close to me. His frame made him perfect to be the "Little Spoon". He seemed more than happy to do so, scooting himself closer to me. We watched the stars outside for a little while, then we slowly fell asleep together in that position.

Part 2: ( Here )

Masterpost: ( Here )

[murderkittyz]

The Party - Chapter 2

Content warnings: Nothing too major but it’s getting a lil spooky - Gramps is still sick :(( - Mention of weed - Reader is a bit shaken up - Oooo Grandpa has a crush on Evelynnnn/j

Important notes! In this fic Stardew is set in 1996, the Scream movies exist.

ALL CHARACTERS OF ROMANTIC INTEREST ARE 18+! MINORS DNI

The movie was pretty good! You really didn’t expect to hear them talk about OTHER classic horror flicks! From the sound of it, it was the billionth time Sam, Seb, and Abby watched it, with how much they ranted about the best and worst parts of the movie and all the fun facts about production, and—

 

Would you look at the time? You gotta head back home! With a mild panic in your voice, you quickly packed up your stuff. “Ack- I’m so so sorry, I gotta go!” You yelped, dashing out the door. You could tell they were about to say something, but you were already halfway back.

 

Stepping inside with a huff, you set everything down and grabbed some PJs for the night. A nice, warm shower should help soothe your frazzled nerves. You’ve been so jittery lately, suppose being on a desolate farm all alone, excluding the farm dog who seems more interested in chasing butterflies than foxes, the scrawny little barn cats, a bunch of livestock, and your sick grandpa will do that to a person.

 

It felt nice getting all the sweat and grime off of you. Plus, grandpa would KILL you if he smelled the weed! That party was really overwhelming… You suppose you can’t really blame Sam and Abby, even if they were the ones to set it up. They were just trying to be friendly and have fun! You hoped you guys would smooth things out in the morning after your rude exit.

 

About to flop down on your bed after checking on Grandpa, you hear a scratching at the window of your room. Glancing over, you see a strange face. Black and white. Screaming.

 

“Smudge! You’re an outside cat; y'know, I’m not supposed to let you in! Go hang out in the barn!” You scolded the little tuxedo cat outside your window. With just a cute little head tilt, he had won you over. “Fine, just don’t cause a mess…” The cat gave a satisfied trill, glad to get out of the cold and away from the stuffy barn. You closed the window behind him.

 

You flopped over onto your bed, soon joined by the very dusty kitty. At least laundry day was tomorrow anyway. Giving him a few pets, you click off your lamp and head to sleep.

 

The next morning started off with you all tangled in your bedsheets. The cool morning air wafted in through the open window. Based on the little paw prints in the dew, you could see Smudge had gone back to his rodent hunting business. You went on with your morning routine, eating cereal while the TV droned on in front of you.

 

“Morning, kiddo- damnit- Say, you heard those prank callers?” Your grandpa asked, sitting on the couch. Good to see he’s feeling well enough to walk. “Nah, what happened?” You chirped back, drinking the milk. “Some punks with this freaky voice changer thing are harassing some of the folks. ‘Cording to Evelyn, they were probably inspired by that new scary movie that came out recently.”

 

“Really? Shocked she heard anything about it.” You chuckled, earning you a nudge on the shoulder from Gramps. “Aye, you be nice to her now! Not that it ain’t rooted in a bit o’ truth.” The elderly man replied. “Anywho, think you could run down to the market today? We’re outta flour, sugar… ah shit—what else? Ah, forget it, just grab whatever you think we’ll need.” He sighed, handing you some money. “I’m gonna go check on the critters.”

 

You nodded, pocketing the money and grabbing your tennis shoes. This was perfect timing! If you get there quick enough, you can talk to Abigail about what happened! Hopefully she didn’t mind too much. With a wave, you trotted out the door, thinking about what to say.

Credits: <3 on Pinterest for the header, @beamer-boy for the footer, beta read by @phebbsl

Tags: @warpedbands @sashiavi