#at least i know ive improved slightly

[silvercrane14]

Aughhh why does drawing suck so bad

[scarluna]

Y/N, a gifted but self-conscious graphic designer, lands a job at Jeon Enterprises, a powerhouse ruled by the sharp and controlling Jeon Jungkook, whose ruthless perfectionism hides behind an enigmatic façade. Though admired and feared, Jungkook targets Y/N’s insecurities, using them as weapons against her.

Beside him stands his best friend, Min Yoongi, a sly and unpredictable force whose hot-and-cold behavior leaves Y/N questioning his motives.

Tangled in a web of cold authority, teasing games, and unspoken desire, Y/N must navigate a dangerous love triangle where ambition and emotion collide, threatening to unravel everything.

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader x Min Yoongi

Genre/Tags: plus sized reader, enemies to lovers, ceo!jungkook, graphic designer!reader, mafia!yoongi

Link to the other chapters: ACT I / ACT II / ACT III / ACT V / ACT VI / ACT VII / ACT VIII

Chapters: 4 / ?

Chapter Warnings: mature language, bullying, slow burn, enemies to lovers

A/N: Rollercoaster of sh*t.

ACT IV.

My head swam, but not from the alcohol this time. Of course, he owned the hottest spot in town. Why wouldn’t he? It was so… him. Dark, magnetic, and pulsing with an energy that felt alive.

I tilted my chin up, caught up by the warmth spreading in my chest. “You could’ve led with that, you know. Saved me the shock.” My words came out more sassy than I’d intended, but the moment they left my mouth, I realized I didn’t care.

Yoongi’s smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it sharpened. “And miss that reaction?” He shrugged. “Not a chance.”

Hoseok snorted beside me, nudging me playfully. “You’re a natural at this, Y/N. Keep him on his toes.”

I ignored Hoseok, my eyes locked on Yoongi’s. “So, what’s the deal? You walk in here like some dark prince, surveying your kingdom, and then just… what? Decide to mingle with the common folk?”

That earned me a genuine chuckle. Low and rich, it sent a ripple through me that I wasn’t prepared for. “If I didn’t know better,” he said, his tone almost teasing, “I’d think you were flirting.”

I rolled my eyes, though my cheeks burned. “I’m just calling it like I see it. Besides,” I gestured around, nearly knocking over an empty glass in the process, “you’re the one interrupting our little party.”

Yoongi leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Trust me, I’m not interrupting. I’m improving it.”

That stupid smirk again. He was too smooth for his own good.

I crossed my arms, standing my ground—or at least trying to, given my slightly unsteady balance. “Bold claim. Care to prove it?”

His gaze darkened, a spark of something unreadable flashing in his eyes. “Careful, Y/N. I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

It was a challenge, plain and simple. And I was tipsy enough, bold enough, to take the bait.

Yoongi’s gaze lingered on me for a beat longer, the smirk on his lips softening into something dangerously close to intrigue, before he straightened up. “I’ll leave you to your… festivities,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes still locked on mine. “Don’t wander too far.”

And just like that, he turned and disappeared into the crowd, his presence like a phantom that left behind a trail of chaos.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, only to be jolted by the sound of Rya scooting closer. “What the hell was that?” she squeaked, her wide eyes darting between me and the direction Yoongi had gone.

Hoseok, ever the life of the party, burst into laughter, slapping his knee as if the entire exchange had been the highlight of his night. “Oh, this is gold. Y/N, I don’t know what you’re drinking, but you need to have it every time we go out. That was legendary.”

I flushed, suddenly feeling the heat of their stares more than Yoongi’s. “What are you talking about?” I asked, trying—and failing—to sound nonchalant.

Rya gaped at me. “Are you kidding me? You were, like, full-on flirting with Min Yoongi. The Min Yoongi! Who owns this place! And he flirted back!”

“That wasn’t flirting,” I said quickly, though my voice wavered just enough to make my protest unconvincing.

“Oh, please,” Rya shot back, recovering from her shock to grin at me like she’d just uncovered a scandal. “He was looking at you like you were the only person here. And don’t think I didn’t catch that little breathy moment you had when he leaned in.”

“I did too!” Hoseok chimed in, his laughter subsiding into a knowing grin. “You might as well have swooned. It was like watching a scene from a K-drama.”

“I did not swoon!” I hissed, but my cheeks were betraying me, burning hotter by the second.

Rya leaned in, her teasing grin turning downright mischievous. “So? What’s the plan? Are you going to play coy, or are you going to see where this goes?”

“There’s no plan!” I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “It’s not like that.”

“Right,” Rya said, drawing out the word like she didn’t believe me for a second. “And that’s why you’re still blushing.”

“I’m not—”

“You are,” Hoseok and Rya said in unison, and I groaned again, this time into my hands.

Rya gave my shoulder a playful nudge. “Don’t worry, Y/N. We’ll make sure you’re ready for when Prince Yoongi decides to return for his damsel.”

“I hate you both,” I muttered, though I couldn’t stop the small laugh that bubbled up despite myself.

Hoseok raised his glass. “To Y/N, our fearless leader in the art of unexpected seduction!”

Rya clinked her glass against his with a giggle, and I shook my head, knowing there was no escaping their teasing tonight.

The night continued to spiral into a haze of drinks, laughter, and teasing. I couldn’t quite remember how many cocktails I’d had, but the warm, dizzying buzz was taking over. Hoseok kept encouraging me to try new drinks, and I, in my tipsy confidence, couldn’t say no. At some point, I realized my tolerance was slipping, and I needed a break from the noise and chatter.

“Alright, I’m calling it,” I muttered to Rya, who was currently nursing her own drink with that playful grin still plastered on her face. “I need a minute. Just a quick breather.”

“Good call,” she said, her tone teasing as always. “Let's go get some fresh air, princess.”

I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself as I pushed myself to my feet, a little unsteady but managing. The motion of the crowd around me made my head spin, and I began to make my way toward the back of the bar, where the balcony on the second floor awaited.

Rya followed without hesitation, catching up to me as I stumbled out onto the balcony, the cool night air hitting my face and doing little to clear the fog in my head. The balcony overlooked the main entrance, the buzzing energy of the bar below a stark contrast to the calmness of the night sky above.

I leaned against the railing, taking a deep breath. The city lights twinkled in the distance, and for a moment, I almost felt like I could breathe again. Rya stood beside me, lighting up a cigarette. The first drag she took made me blink in surprise. I hadn’t expected her to be a smoker.

“You smoke?” I asked, my voice a little more slurred than I’d intended.

She shrugged, the cigarette hanging between her fingers. “Only when I’m stressed or need to think. Never really felt like it until tonight.” She gave me a sidelong glance, a knowing smile pulling at her lips. “I think you might’ve had a little too much fun tonight.”

I laughed weakly. “Maybe,” I admitted, feeling the buzzing in my head intensify with each word I spoke.

We both stood there in silence for a moment, watching the cars passing by below. The cool breeze was refreshing, but my mind couldn’t seem to quiet.

Rya took another drag from her cigarette, the smoke curling into the air. I could feel her eyes on me as the silence stretched on, but I didn’t know what to say. It was strange, talking to someone who wasn’t part of the world I used to know.

I leaned my elbows on the railing, staring down at the street, my thoughts swirling. “You know, this is weird,” I started, trying to make sense of the jumble in my head. “I’ve never been good at places like this. Clubs. Bars. I don’t know… it just feels like everyone’s always so... confident.”

Rya didn’t say anything at first, just continued to smoke, as if waiting for me to go on. When I did, my words came out more in a rush, as if I couldn’t stop them.

“I used to have this group of girls I called my friends. We’d go out together, but it was never real, you know? Everyone was always smiling at each other, acting like everything was fine, but... behind the scenes, it was all about tearing each other down. I felt like I was invisible half of the time. They only kept me around to make themselves feel better because I was the fat one and they weren't. I just felt... useless.”

I sighed, feeling a bit foolish for spilling all of this out to someone I barely knew. Rya didn’t seem surprised, though. She simply leaned against the railing beside me, flicking the ashes from her cigarette.

“Sounds like they were garbage people,” she said bluntly, without a hint of hesitation.

I blinked at her. “Yeah, well… I didn't know it at the time. I just kept thinking if I stayed, they’d notice me, or that maybe I wasn’t... that bad.”

“You’re not alone in that,” Rya said quietly, her voice softer now. She paused before speaking again, looking out over the railing as if gathering her own thoughts. “I think a lot of people feel that way at some point. Like they don’t belong, or like they’re just filling space.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. It wasn’t like I expected her to understand completely, but somehow, hearing it from her made me feel a little less crazy. A little less... alone.

“I guess that’s why tonight feels different,” I said after a pause, the words coming out softer, more vulnerable than I meant them to. “For the first time, a stranger actually... came up to me. Asked me to dance. No one’s ever done that before, not like that. I don’t know why, but... it feels like maybe I’m not invisible, you know?”

Rya’s gaze shifted to me then, her eyes softer than they’d been a moment ago. She let the silence stretch for a beat before she smiled. It wasn’t one of her teasing, playful grins. It was something more genuine.

“You’re not invisible, Y/N. Maybe it’s just taking some time for you to see it too.” She took a last drag of her cigarette, letting out a long exhale before tossing it over the side of the balcony. “But don’t let it take too long. You deserve to feel like you matter—like you’re seen.”

I felt a lump form in my throat, and for the first time in a long time, the words I’d wanted to say but never had a chance to were finally coming to the surface.

“Thanks,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “Really.”

She just nodded, her face lighting up with a kind of warmth I wasn’t used to, and I felt something shift inside me. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was something else entirely, but in that moment, with her standing beside me, the weight I’d carried for so long felt just a little bit lighter.

We stayed there for a while longer, the cool breeze calming the storm in my chest, and I let myself simply... be.

-

Rya and I made our way back into the club, the heat and noise almost overwhelming after the cool air outside. We weaved through the crowd until we found Hoseok sitting in the same booth we had claimed earlier. He was still chatting with Yoongi, who I now realized had been there for a while. He must have arrived earlier while we were outside, though I hadn’t noticed him.

I hadn’t expected him to be the owner of this place. Whilst tipsier earlier, I had came to that realization earlier when he visited us and it surprised me more than I wanted to admit. He didn’t look like the owner, or at least, not like any owner I’d ever imagined. There was something about his sly like fox presence that made him seem more like a mysterious figure who didn’t really want to be noticed.

As we approached, Hoseok greeted us with a bright grin. “Ah, there you are! It took you long enough!”

“We are here now,” I said, not quite ready to dive into anything more. My gaze flickered over to Yoongi, who was sitting back in his chair, relaxed but with his eyes fixed on me. I wasn’t sure if he noticed me looking, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that his presence was like a shadow hanging over everything.

“You guys good?” Rya asked, taking her seat beside Hoseok as if nothing were unusual. I stood for a moment, unsure of what to do next. My glass was almost empty, so I motioned to the bartender for another drink, trying to focus on anything but the magnetic tension I felt from Yoongi.

Rya turned her attention to Hoseok, as usual, but I could feel Yoongi’s gaze on me like a weight. I was hyperaware of every step I took, every breath I made. His presence made my pulse quicken, but I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing how much it affected me.

Hoseok, blissfully oblivious to the tension between me and Yoongi, kept up his cheerful banter. “I swear, every time I see you two, I get more and more worried about your liver,” he teased, nudging Rya playfully.

Rya laughed. “We’re fine, Hoseok. Don’t worry about us.”

I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering back to Yoongi, and the more I thought about him, the more the atmosphere in the club felt charged. I had come here tonight for a fun distraction, not to get wrapped up in whatever unspoken connection existed between him and me. But there it was—always lingering in the background, impossible to ignore.

“Y/N, you’re drunk,” Yoongi says, leaning back against the couch with that smug grin plastered across his face. His eyes glint with amusement, the kind that makes my already warm cheeks burn hotter.

“I am not drunk,” I declare, pointing a finger at him dramatically. Okay, so maybe my hand wobbles a little—fine, a lot—but still, I’m holding my ground. “I’m just... delightfully loose. You, on the other hand, wouldn’t know a good time if it hit you in the face.”

His smirk deepens. God, that smirk. “Delightfully loose? Is that what we’re calling this?” He gestures vaguely at me, and I glare at him—or at least I try to glare.

“Yes, and you’re lucky to be in the presence of this level of charm,” I shoot back, crossing my arms. It’s supposed to be dramatic, but I nearly knock over my drink, so the impact is somewhat lessened.

Yoongi just laughs—a rare, low chuckle that makes me want to both punch him and grin like an idiot. “You’re a mess.”

I huff, sitting up straighter. “A delightful mess. Don’t forget the important adjectives, Yoongi.”

He shakes his head, looking at me with that infuriating mix of amusement and fondness. “You’re gonna regret this tomorrow.”

I scoff, tossing my hair over my shoulder like the dramatic queen I absolutely am tonight. “Future me is tough as nails. She can handle it.”

“Uh-huh,” he murmurs, leaning closer now, his face annoyingly smug—and annoyingly close. “You’re fun when you’re drunk. Did I ever tell you that?”

“You’re always fun when you’re around me,” I retort, narrowing my eyes at him. “Which isn’t often, by the way. You’re too busy being sly as a fox.”

He raises a brow. “Sly as a fox?”

“Yes,” I say, leaning into my sass. “Like some sly fox lurking in the shadows, pretending to be all mysterious, but secretly just waiting for someone to feed your ego.”

That laugh again—soft, deep, and way too satisfying to hear. “You’ve got quite the imagination.”

“And you’ve got quite the ego,” I quip, smirking triumphantly. But before I can revel in my win, Yoongi shifts closer, the warmth of his presence suddenly tangible. My breath catches, and I hate how I feel my sass faltering under his gaze.

“You’re impossible,” he whispers, his voice quieter now, like the moment’s shifted without me realizing it.

“Impossibly charming,” I manage, my voice smaller than I’d like, my cheeks heating up even more.

From the corner of my eye, I see Rya grinning like a Cheshire cat, her phone raised. “Oh my God, you two, stay just like that.”

“What? No—Rya!” I protest, my voice going high-pitched and ridiculous, but before I can move, there’s the telltale click of her camera.

Yoongi doesn’t even flinch. In fact, he chuckles, the sound so soft and close it sends a shiver down my spine. “Let her keep it,” he says, looking at me like he’s amused by my flustered state.

“But she’s going to use it against me!” I protest, trying to reach for her phone.

“Don’t worry,” Rya says, laughing as she holds the phone out of reach. “This one’s for memory purposes. You’ll thank me later.”

“Ryaaa!” I groan, but before I can fight back properly, Yoongi’s hand gently catches my wrist.

“Seriously,” he says, his tone low, almost... fond? “Let her keep it. Might be worth remembering tonight.”

I blink, caught completely off-guard by the softness in his voice. His dark eyes meet mine, and suddenly my mind’s gone blank. All the witty comebacks I had lined up? Gone. Just like that.

“I—yeah,” I mumble, the words slipping out before I can think. “Maybe it is.”

For a moment, the world seems to shrink around us, his face close enough that I can see the faintest crinkle at the corner of his eyes.

And in the background, Rya? She’s probably grinning like an idiot because she just captured something that wasn’t meant to be caught.

I finally snapped myself out of the haze and glanced at Rya. “Let’s go dance,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

Her eyes lit up. “Now you’re speaking my language!” she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the dance floor. I followed her eagerly, trying to push Yoongi from my mind as we joined the crowd.

As the music thumped in my chest, the mood shifted, and I started to let go. The music was slow, sensual, and I found myself following Rya’s lead, moving with her in time with the rhythm. I wasn’t focused on anyone else in the room—just the music, just the beat, just the moment.

But then I felt it again. That familiar, heavy weight of someone’s gaze on me. I looked up and met Yoongi’s eyes across the room. He was watching us. Watching me.

My heart skipped a beat. He didn’t look away this time. His gaze was piercing, intense. And something about the way he looked at me—like he saw right through the act I was putting on—had my chest tightening. The air felt thick, charged with something unspoken, and I felt exposed, like the whole world could see my vulnerability.

Rya must have noticed my shift in energy, because she leaned closer, her lips curling into a sly smile. “You know he’s still watching, right?”

I swallowed, trying to shake off the nervous feeling rising in my chest. “I know,” I muttered, though I was anything but casual about it. Every part of me wanted to pull away, but I couldn’t stop myself from being drawn to him.

Rya gave me a knowing look. “If you keep looking at him like that, you’re gonna end up in trouble.” Her words made me feel even more exposed, but she didn’t stop grinning.

I turned my attention back to the music, trying to lose myself in the rhythm again. But as much as I tried to ignore it, I could still feel Yoongi’s gaze on me, lingering like a weight on my shoulders. The heat from his eyes made everything feel heavier, more intense. It was as if the music wasn’t enough to drown out the way he was looking at me, the magnetic pull between us too strong to ignore.

As the night wore on and the effects of the alcohol finally began to hit me full force, my limbs felt heavy, my steps wobbly. Rya and Hoseok had been keeping an eye on me, and it wasn’t long before Rya grabbed my arm with a concerned look.

“Alright, party girl,” she said, her voice firm but affectionate. “You’ve had your fun, but it’s time to call it a night.”

Hoseok appeared beside her, nodding. “Yep. Before you start serenading the entire club with your ‘delightfully loose’ energy.”

I groaned, my head lolling against Rya’s shoulder. “I was having fun,” I mumbled, but I didn’t resist as they guided me toward the exit. The cool air hit me like a wave as we stepped outside, clearing my head just enough to realize how far gone I was.

“Let’s get her home,” Rya said to Hoseok, who fished out his phone, probably to call a cab.

Before he could, however, the door behind us opened, and Yoongi stepped out into the night. His expression was unreadable as his gaze landed on us—or maybe just on me. “You leaving already?” he asked, his tone casual, but there was something in his voice that made me shiver.

Rya crossed her arms, immediately on guard. “Yeah. She’s had enough for one night.”

Yoongi’s eyes flicked to me, and I couldn’t decipher the look in them. “I’ll take you all home,” he offered, his voice calm but firm. “It’s late. Safer that way.”

Rya and Hoseok exchanged a skeptical glance. “I don’t know…” Rya started, clearly not thrilled about the idea of leaving me in his care.

Yoongi smirked slightly, his confidence frustratingly unwavering. “Relax. I’m not going to do anything. I’ll drop you both off first. She’ll be fine.”

“Will she?” Rya challenged, her sharp eyes narrowing.

“Rya,” Hoseok interrupted, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s late. He’s sober, and we’re all here. It’s probably better than waiting for a cab.”

Rya hesitated but finally relented with a sigh. “Fine,” she muttered, shooting Yoongi a pointed glare. “But if you try anything—”

He held up his hands in mock surrender, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. “Scout’s honor.”

With some reluctance, we all piled into Yoongi’s car. Hoseok and Rya sat in the back, with me in the passenger seat, my head leaning heavily against the window as the cool glass soothed my overheated skin. The drive was quiet at first, the hum of the engine almost lulling me to sleep.

Yoongi dropped Hoseok off first, who gave him a wary but grateful nod. Then it was Rya’s turn. Before she got out, she leaned over the seat, glaring at Yoongi. “I’m trusting you with her,” she said, her tone deadly serious. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, amused. “You’re awfully protective.”

“She’s my best friend,” Rya shot back, her voice firm. “And I’ll hunt you down if you try anything.”

Yoongi chuckled, the sound low and infuriatingly confident. “Noted.”

Rya turned to me, squeezing my hand. “Text me when you’re home, okay?”

I nodded, too tired to do more than mumble, “I will.”

Once Rya was gone, the silence in the car felt heavier. I shifted slightly in my seat, sneaking a glance at Yoongi. He was focused on the road, his expression unreadable, but the air between us was charged, thick with unspoken tension.

“You don’t have to take me home,” I mumbled, my voice softer now. “I could’ve taken a cab.”

“I know,” he said simply, not looking at me. “But I wanted to.”

Something about his tone made my heart skip a beat. I turned my gaze back to the window, watching the city lights blur past, but I couldn’t shake the awareness of him beside me.

“You’re quiet,” he said after a moment, his voice breaking the silence.

“Just tired,” I replied, though it wasn’t the full truth. My thoughts were racing, filled with the way he looked at me earlier, the way he always seemed to carry himself with that infuriating mix of arrogance and mystery.

“You’re not as tough as you act, you know,” he said, his voice softer now, almost contemplative.

I turned to look at him, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He glanced at me, a hint of a smirk on his lips. “Just an observation.”

I huffed, crossing my arms. “You don’t know me well enough to make observations.”

“Maybe not,” he admitted, his tone annoyingly calm. “But I think I’m starting to.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. My pulse quickened, and I hated how easily he got under my skin.

When we finally pulled up in front of my apartment, he parked the car and turned to me, his gaze steady. “Go inside. Text your friend like you promised.”

I nodded, fumbling with the door handle, but before I could get out, he spoke again.

“And Y/N?”

I paused, looking back at him.

He leaned slightly closer, his voice low. “You’re fun when you’re drunk. But you’re even more fun when you’re just you.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks, and for once, I had no witty comeback. Instead, I mumbled a quick goodnight and practically bolted out of the car, my heart racing as I fumbled for my keys.

As I stepped inside my apartment, I couldn’t help but glance out the window. His car was still there, idling for a moment before finally pulling away. And even as I closed the door behind me, my mind was still spinning, the memory of his words—and that look in his eyes—seared into my thoughts.

-

The next morning, I felt like death warmed over. My head throbbed with a relentless rhythm, and the sunlight streaming through the curtains made my eyes squeeze shut in protest. I groaned, rolling onto my side.

“Ugh... Hades,” I mumbled, squinting toward the edge of the bed. Sure enough, my little fluff ball of a dog was perched on his usual spot near my feet, his dark eyes fixed on me, ears perked in expectation. His tiny tail wagged as soon as I stirred.

“I know, I know,” I muttered, pushing myself up with far more effort than it should’ve taken. My mouth was dry, my muscles heavy, and my thoughts even heavier. “Breakfast first. Then I can hate myself for last night.”

Hades hopped off the bed and trotted ahead of me, his soft white fur bouncing with each step. By the time I reached the kitchen, he was already circling his food bowl, giving me a look that said, Hurry up, human.

I chuckled weakly, filling his dish and setting it down. “There. Happy?” I watched as he dove in, his tail wagging like I’d just given him the world. At least one of us was having a good morning.

While Hades busied himself with his food, I stumbled into the bathroom for a much-needed shower. The hot water did its best to melt away my hangover, but the memories of last night refused to wash away so easily.

By the time I made it back to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee, my nerves were already fraying. With Hades trailing close behind, I shuffled out onto the balcony, cradling my mug like it was my last lifeline.

The crisp morning air helped a little, enough to jolt me out of the lingering haze of sleep. Hades curled up near my feet, his fluffy coat glowing in the soft sunlight as he rested his head on his paws.

I leaned back in my chair, taking a slow sip of coffee. For a moment, I let the stillness of the morning lull me, the warmth of the mug grounding me. But it didn’t last long.

Like an unwelcome tide, the memories from last night started flooding back.

The club. The drinks. The banter with Yoongi. My stomach twisted as flashes of my drunken antics resurfaced—the sass, the dramatic finger-pointing, the teasing.

“What the hell was I thinking?” I muttered, covering my face with one hand. Hades perked up slightly at the sound of my voice but settled back down when he realized I wasn’t going anywhere.

The memory of Yoongi’s smirk, his low chuckle, the way he’d looked at me—all of it came rushing back, vivid and unrelenting. My cheeks burned as I remembered calling him a sly fox and declaring myself a “delightful mess.” The mortification was almost enough to make me curl up into a ball and stay there forever.

But what really made my chest tighten was the car ride home. His words, his gaze, the way he’d said, “You’re even more fun when you’re just you.”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. Why couldn’t I just forget about it? Why did that moment, of all things, have to stick with me?

The insecurities hit like a freight train, each one louder than the last. Did I look foolish to him? Did I come off as desperate? What if I’d ruined everything—whatever this was?

Hades shifted at my feet, letting out a soft whine, and I reached down to scratch behind his ears, needing the comfort. “It’s fine,” I told him softly, more to myself than to him. “It’s not like he’s going to bring it up. Right?”

Hades yawned, clearly uninterested in my crisis, and rested his head again. I let out a shaky sigh, sipping my coffee and staring out at the city.

I had no idea how to face him again. But no matter how much I panicked, I couldn’t stop replaying his words in my head, over and over again.

“You’re even more fun when you’re just you.”

Why did that have to be the part I remembered most?

I swirled the mug absently, staring at the skyline but not really seeing it. The memory of Yoongi’s smirk lingered in my mind, sharp and clear. The way his eyes had glinted with something unreadable, something that made me feel... seen, but not in a way I could understand.

And what if it was all just a game?

My stomach twisted violently at the thought, the unease clawing its way up my throat. What if Yoongi had just been toying with me? Testing how far he could push me before I broke? It wouldn’t be the first time someone had done that, the memory of teenage taunts and cruel laughter surfacing like ghosts I thought I’d buried.

What if he wanted to see if the fat girl would fall for his charms?

I felt sick. I set the mug down with shaky hands, clutching the edge of the table as if it could anchor me. My cheeks burned, but this time it wasn’t embarrassment—it was anger. Anger at myself for letting him get to me, for letting my guard down, for letting his words and his smile burrow under my skin like they had any right to be there.

Fucking hell, Y/N. Why did you let this happen?

I buried my face in my hands, the sharp edge of panic building in my chest. What if he laughed about it later? What if this was nothing but some joke to him? A story to share with Jungkook tomorrow at work?

Oh, God.

Was he going to mock me?

I could already picture it: Yoongi leaning back in his chair, smirking as he recounted the night to Jungkook. Talking about how easy it was to get a reaction out of me, how I’d blushed, how I’d been drunk enough to practically fall into his lap.

My breathing hitched, anxiety tightening its grip on me like a vise. I pressed my hands to my face, trying to will the spiral to stop, but it didn’t. The thoughts came faster, louder, each one worse than the last.

What if tomorrow at work he made some sly comment, dropping hints that only I would catch, smirking when I squirmed under the weight of it? What if Jungkook looked at me differently, pitying me for falling for Yoongi’s charms? What if—what if—

“Stop it,” I whispered harshly to myself, my voice trembling.

But the damage was done. The doubts had sunk their claws into me, and no matter how much I tried to shove them down, they lingered, festering like an open wound.

Hades whined softly at my feet, nudging my leg with his nose. I looked down at him, my chest tightening further. His dark eyes stared up at me, his tiny head tilted, as if asking, Why are you upset?

I reached down, stroking his soft fur with trembling hands. “I’m fine,” I murmured, though the words felt like a lie.

But I wasn’t fine.

I was panicking, spiraling, drowning in a tide of insecurities that felt too heavy to swim against. And no matter how hard I tried to push the memories of last night away, they clung to me, stubborn and sharp, refusing to let me forget just how vulnerable I’d been.

And how foolish I’d been to let myself believe, even for a second, that Yoongi might have meant any of it.

-

The Monday morning commute was a nightmare. Traffic was a mess, and I could feel the anxiety building with each minute I was stuck in place. My stomach twisted in knots, and by the time I made it to the office, I was already on edge. The weekend had been long and uncomfortable, and I was not in the mood to face everyone—especially Yoongi.

As soon as I stepped through the door of the office, I immediately felt the weight of all those eyes. The hum of the usual office chatter felt deafening.

I kept my head down as I walked toward my desk, hoping I could just blend into the sea of busy workers. I didn’t need anyone noticing me today. I didn’t need anyone talking to me.

I quickly sank into my chair and buried myself behind my computer, praying that I could get through the day without any awkward interactions. The worst part was that I could feel it—the tension in the air, thick and unspoken. The what ifs from the weekend were still swirling in my mind, and the fear of being the subject of office gossip made it hard to focus on anything else.

Just when I thought I might finally be safe, I heard the unmistakable sound of Rya’s footsteps approaching. My heart dropped into my stomach.

“Y/N,” she said, her tone already heavy with something I didn’t want to hear. “We need to talk.”

I looked up, already feeling a rush of dread. “What’s going on?”

Rya’s eyes were filled with concern, and there was something else, too—something I couldn’t quite place. She hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “The picture of you and Yoongi… the one I took that night… it’s been uploaded to the company website.”

My blood ran cold. I could feel my face drain of color as I scrambled to process what she was saying. “What?!” I hissed, glancing around the office. Sure enough, a few people were looking in our direction, whispering to one another. I wanted to shrink into my chair, but it felt like all eyes were on me.

“What do you mean it was uploaded?” I felt the panic rising in my chest. 

Rya sighed, crossing her arms. “I don’t know. It just appeared there. Some anonymous source uploaded it, and now… well, people are talking.”

I stood up so quickly that my chair nearly tipped over. My hands were shaking as I scanned the room, my eyes darting from one person to the next. I could feel the heat in my cheeks as the realization hit me: someone had posted the picture of Yoongi and me, and now it was out in the open for everyone to see.

“Did you do it?” I asked, my voice rising. Rya’s eyes widened, and she immediately shook her head.

“Y/N, no! I swear to you, I didn’t do it!” she protested. “Hoseok didn’t either. We’d never—”

I couldn’t stop the surge of frustration. I knew I wasn’t going crazy, but there was only one person who had been there with us, who could potentially have access to the photo. “Then who else was there, Rya?” I spat, my hands clenched into fists.

She blinked in surprise at the sudden heat in my voice, but I could see her starting to piece things together. “Wait… you don’t think… Yoongi, right?”

The truth hit me like a ton of bricks. It was the only explanation that made sense. He had been there, and he was the one with the power to upload it. I felt my blood boil. Of course it was him.

I stormed down the hallway, my steps growing faster as I approached the balcony. I knew exactly where to find him—Yoongi was always there, cigarette in hand, leaning against the railing, as if the world outside could fix whatever thoughts were swirling in his head. But when I threw open the door, I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.

Jungkook was standing there, his hand gripping Yoongi’s collar, his face tight with anger. My heart sank, and for a split second, I didn’t even know how to react.

“Jungkook, what the hell—” I snapped, my voice sharp with confusion and frustration.

He turned to face me, his expression a mix of upset and disbelief. "You—" he started, cutting off mid-sentence, his gaze flicking to Yoongi, still holding him by the collar. "This picture, Y/N. You don’t get it. It’s going to ruin the company’s image!"

I could feel my pulse quicken, anger boiling in my veins. I hadn’t even had a chance to process what was happening before Yoongi spoke up, his voice low and mocking, as always.

"Relax," he drawled, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “I did not upload it. Not like you had much to worry about, though. The way you looked that night... You sure your friends are as real as they seem?”

His words hit like a slap, each syllable laced with venom, and I could feel my stomach churn in disbelief. The nerve of him, mocking me like this—mocking everything I’d been through. The image, my friends, all of it.

I was so angry, I couldn’t even speak. Instead, I just stared at him, every part of me wanting to explode. How dare he act like I was the one causing problems when he was the one toying with my life?

The sting of Yoongi’s words hit harder than I ever expected. It was like a punch to the gut, and I could feel every bit of my frustration and hurt boiling over. How could he say something like that? How could he act so differently now?

It felt like all the walls I had put up around myself were crashing down. I had trusted him. I had thought maybe, just maybe, there was something real between us. But now—now he was just mocking me, belittling me, throwing all of my emotions in my face like they meant nothing.

Before I could even think, my hand was moving, slapping him across the face with all the force I could muster. His head snapped to the side, but the cold expression didn’t falter. And then, without thinking again, I shoved him hard—his cigarette flying from his hand as he stumbled back.

“Go to Hell.” I choked out, my voice trembling with rage and hurt. 

Without giving him a chance to respond, I turned and stormed off the balcony, my chest tight and tears already starting to blur my vision. I couldn’t hold them back. They burned, hot and relentless, as I ran down the hall to find somewhere, anywhere, to hide.

I ended up in a bathroom, locking the door behind me. My legs gave way, and I collapsed onto the cold tiles, sobbing uncontrollably. I didn’t care anymore. Nothing mattered. My entire body shook with the weight of it—the betrayal, the pain, the confusion. Why did he have to hurt me like this? Why did he have to make me feel so small?

I spent what felt like hours on the bathroom floor, crying until my throat ached and my eyes burned. My makeup was ruined, my emotions shredded, and I couldn’t even think straight.

Eventually, after what felt like a lifetime, I managed to pull myself together enough to stand and wipe my face. I wasn’t ready to face anyone, but I knew I had to. I took a deep breath, wiped away the last of the tears, and stepped out of the bathroom.

As soon as I did, I froze. Rya was standing there, her posture tense, her eyes full of regret. My heart sank.

"Y/N, wait," she began softly, stepping closer. "I—"

“What do you want, Rya?” I cut her off, my voice hoarse from crying. I wasn’t sure I could handle another person adding to my mess right now.

“I need to explain," she said, looking like she was about to cry too. "It was me. I—I sent the picture to Hoseok, and Hoseok... he sent it to his co-worker."

I felt the room spin, the anger and confusion flooding back all at once. "You did what?" I asked, my voice trembling with disbelief.

She nodded, her eyes full of guilt. "I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t think it would get out like this. It was a stupid mistake. I should’ve never sent it. Please, just... please understand. I never meant for any of this to happen."

The words didn’t feel real. I just stood there, my mind racing, my heart sinking deeper into my chest. So much had been messed up already. So much had been done, and now... now it was all just crashing down around me.

I didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to hear Rya's apologies or explanations. I couldn’t. It was too much, and right now, I just needed to be alone. The last thing I wanted was to stand there and listen to her make excuses for what she’d done. So, without another word, I turned and walked away from her, heading straight for my desk.

My steps were heavy, each one feeling like a punishment as I walked through the hallway. I didn’t care who saw me, didn’t care about the mess I was. I just wanted to go back to my desk, to find some semblance of control in the chaos.

As soon as I reached my cubicle, I collapsed into my chair, my hands gripping the edge of the desk as I tried to steady my breathing. I could feel the weight of everything pressing down on me. My heart still ached from Yoongi's words, and now, the fallout from Rya’s actions, the picture… It was all just too much.

But the relief of sitting at my desk didn’t last long.

Tina’s voice cut through the air, sharp and mocking as she approached me. "Well, well, look who’s back," she sneered. “Had a nice little breakdown, huh? That photo was a real treat. It’s almost cute how hard you tried to pretend you had it together.”

I didn’t even look up at her. I couldn’t stomach the idea of interacting with someone like her right now.

But Tina wasn’t done. She moved closer, her voice dripping with venom. "You know, Y/N," she said, her tone laced with cruelty, "I don’t know why you even bother. People like you? You’re never going to be loved. A fatty like you will always just be a joke."

The words hit me like ice water, cold and suffocating. I could feel my stomach drop, my chest tightening with the sting of her words. Every single insult she hurled felt like it was carving into my skin, one cruel word after another.

"People like me?" I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper, unable to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. "What does that even mean?"

Tina chuckled, a sound so bitter it made my skin crawl. "It means exactly what I said. You’re never going to fit in, Y/N. Not with your body, not with your face, not with any of it. No one’s going to look at you the way they look at someone who actually matters."

I felt every word sink deeper into me, like poison that was seeping into my soul. I couldn’t even breathe. The thought of her judging me, of everyone judging me, it was too much.

I felt myself shaking, not from anger, but from the hurt that felt too heavy to carry. It wasn’t just her words. It wasn’t just Tina or anyone else. It was everything—the picture, Yoongi’s mockery, Rya’s betrayal—and now this, this new low I hadn’t even anticipated.

My hands clenched into fists, but even that wasn’t enough to stop the tears from spilling over. Tina had done it—she’d finally broken me.

I was still sitting there, trying to gather myself, my hands trembling as I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand. I could feel Tina’s eyes on me, her cruel words still ringing in my head like a broken record. I was trying so hard to keep it together, to not break completely, but every attempt felt futile.

Then, suddenly, I heard it—Jungkook's voice, sharper than I’d ever heard before.

"That’s enough," he snapped, his tone unlike anything I had ever heard from him. I looked up in surprise, my mind trying to process what was happening. His eyes were fierce, his jaw clenched as he stepped between me and Tina, standing protectively in front of me.

Tina scoffed, but there was a hesitant look in her eyes, as though she hadn’t expected Jungkook to speak up like that. "What, are you going to play the hero now after you were mocking her too?" she sneered, but her words lacked conviction.

"One word," Jungkook shot back, his voice like ice. "One word and you will get dismissed effective immediately."

He stood tall, unwavering, until Tina finally huffed and walked away, clearly unwilling to challenge him further. As she turned on her heel, I could hear her mutter something under her breath, but I didn’t care. All I could focus on was Jungkook now.

He turned to me, his face softening a bit, though there was still a tightness in his expression. He knelt down in front of me, his presence oddly comforting despite everything I had been through today.

"You okay?" he asked quietly, but his concern was evident.

I shook my head, unable to find the words. There was too much going on inside my head, too much hurt and betrayal. I couldn’t trust anyone right now—not Tina, not even Rya or Yoongi. I couldn’t tell him that though. "Come to my office," he had whispered and before I could reply, my feet were dragging me there, following behind. He made sure to close the door as I sat on the soft cushioned sofa near his desk.

He didn't say anything nor pushed further. Instead, he walked to the side, pouring a glass of water and took out his handkerchief laying in one of his pockets. He returned and placed them in front of me, his movements careful, like he was trying to give me space but still offer some kind of comfort.

I glanced at the glass of water and the handkerchief. oddly enough I noticed red /JK/ initials on it. Funny.

I knew he was trying to help, but part of me didn’t know how to accept it. I didn’t know how to accept help from anyone right now. Everyone seemed so fake, so full of hidden motives, and I felt like I was surrounded by nothing but lies.

"Take it easy," Jungkook said, his voice calm and gentle. "You don’t have to stay here. If you need some time, take the day off. Go home. Just… take care of yourself, alright?"

I looked up at him, feeling a mix of emotions—gratitude, suspicion, confusion. It was hard to trust anyone at this point, especially when I had been betrayed so many times today. I didn’t know if I could leave, if I could just walk away from all of this, but… it did sound like the right thing to do.

"You don’t have to figure it out all at once.." he answered, noticing the pain in my eyes.

He took a step back, allowing me the space to make my own decision. He didn’t push, just stood there quietly, waiting for me to come to my own conclusion.

I could feel the tears starting to well up again, but I didn’t want to break down in front of him. I needed to pull myself together.

I nodded slowly, still uncertain, but willing to listen for my own sake. "Okay. I’ll go home."

I let out a shaky breath, picking up the glass of water as my hands trembled. For the first time today, I felt like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t completely alone. But even then, there was a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, telling me to be careful.

Trusting anyone right now seemed impossible.

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

hello!! so i know ive never sent in an ask/request but.. ive been following you for a while and i love your writing style!! so i was wondering if youd be comfortable writing something where the mc/reader has tourettes syndrome? as someone who has tics it makes me lowkey sad that i never see any fics that represent that :/ (i think ive maybe read one..) so if youre comfortable with this sort of thing i have 2 scenarios that i was thinking of!!

texts with fem!reader where maybe a friend was trying to set a skz member and reader on a date and reader gets insecure thinking that he might not like her cause of her tics or think its weird? a little angst moment w a happy ending ofc :p

or headcanons/drabble of how you think a skz member(s) would be with an s/o that has tics? how they would handle tic attacks and such yk?

these are just suggestions ofc if you decide to do a reader w tics feel free to do whatever you feel like!! also i have no specific member i prefer just do whoever you see fit! or even ot8 :o

this was longer than i wanted it to be.. im so sorry :(… i love you tho and hope u have a great day/night!

(stay hydrated, you matter <3)

when i got this rec i immediately started working on it, because i think its important for people to know that they are seen. and if through one of my works i could help someone feel seen and cared for than thats what i want to do! in all honesty, i had to do a little research to better understand how to do my best to accurately represent TS; and i know it isn't perfect, but i hope it can at least be enough :) i hope you don't mind I kind of merged both of your ideas, since it came to my mind when i read through this request, and i think its a fun and wholesome way of showcasing this beautiful part about you. i know it must be extremley hard dealing with tourettes, as i've seen it in others lives, and it sometimes might be seen as a hinderance- but you were made this way with purpose, and i don't think that tourettes or anything of the sort should be seen as something ugly- but rather something that shaoes you and makes you you. i know that might seem cliche, but i beleive that differences are what what make people beautiful and i hope with these fics that shines thorugh <3 enjoy!!!

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When Their Blind Date Has Tourettes Syndrome | 3Racha

Tourette Syndrome (TS) is a neurological disorder characterized by repetitive, involuntary movements and vocalizations known as tics. These tics can be motor (such as blinking, head jerking, or facial grimaces) or vocal (such as grunting, throat clearing, or involuntary words or phrases). The severity and frequency of tics can vary greatly from person to person. TS often begins in childhood, and while symptoms can improve with age, they may persist into adulthood. The exact cause is unknown, but genetics and environmental factors are believed to play a role. The condition can often accompanied by other issues like ADHD or OCD.

Warnings: cursing

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Chan

The café was quiet, the kind of serene setting perfect for a blind date. But you couldn’t fully enjoy it- not with your nerves tangled like this.

When Chan arrived, his easy smile and warm energy made it a little easier to breathe, though the thought of what could go wrong lingered at the back of your mind.

He approached with a casual wave, his hoodie slightly oversized, making him look more approachable than you’d expected. “Y/N?” he asked, his Australian accent soft and cozy.

“That’s me,” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt.

“And I’m Chan,” he introduced himself, sliding into the seat across from you. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Yeah, same.” You smiled, tugging at the sleeve of your sweater.

The conversation started smoothly, easing into topics about work, hobbies, and mutual friends who had set you two up. But as your tics began surfacing- little jerks of your head, accompanied by muttered syllables- you noticed Chan’s gaze shift slightly. It wasn’t discomfort or judgment, though; it was curiosity, an openness that surprised you.

When a loud, unexpected swear escaped your lips- "Fuck! Shit!"- the words hanging awkwardly between you, your stomach dropped. The moment you’d dreaded was here. You braced yourself, heart racing.

“I…I should explain,” you started, your words hurried. “I have Tourette’s, and- uh - its the coprolalia kind." You laughed nervously. "It’s not all the time, but sometimes - goddammit - I just…swear. I promise I’m not trying to - fucking asshole - be rude or anything. I'm just involuntarily profane on occasion." You finshed with a click of your tongue.

Chan’s eyes softened, his brow furrowing slightly. “Y/N,” he said, his tone light, “you don’t need to apologize. Like you said, it’s not something you can control.”

“I just- I know it can be a lot,” you admitted, your voice wavering. “And I don’t want to mess this up, but…this is part of me, and I can’t always- ” Another tic interrupted you, louder this time. “Fucking hell!” The words burst out, and you winced, unable to stop yourself. “I already really like you,” you confessed in a rush, voice quieter now, “But if this is too much…”

Chan reached out across the table, his hand brushing yours gently. “Hey, Y/N, look at me.” His voice was soft but firm, grounding you. “It’s not too much, okay? You’re amazing, and this doesn’t change that.”

“But what if it gets worse?” you asked, the fear evident in your tone.

He smiled, leaning back in his chair. “Then I guess I’ll have to work on not laughing when you curse better than I do.” He commented, his dimple visible. He tilted his head playfully. “I mean, you’ve already got me beat. I can’t even cuss in my songs unless it’s wordplay.”

Despite yourself, a surprised laugh escaped your lips. The tension eased just a little, the weight of the moment lifting as you realized he wasn’t just accepting- he was embracing this part of you.

The rest of the date was easier after that. You talked about your favorite shows, your shared love of music, and even a bit about his work. But later, as you both stood at the café counter to pay, things took a turn.

A customer bumped into you, and you immediately spun to apologize.

“Oh I'm so- Asshole! Sorry, fuck!” The words tumbled out in quick succession, your face paling as the man turned to glare at you.

“What did you just say to me?” he demanded, his voice rising.

“I- I didn’t mean to!” you stammered, panic setting in as another tic followed. “Shut up! Oh my god, bitch fuck!”

“Are you kidding me?” The man stepped closer, anger flashing in his eyes.

Before you could respond, Chan was at your side, his presence a solid wall of protection. “Hey, back off,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “She has Tourette’s. She didn’t mean it.”

The man scoffed. “Right, sure.”

Chan squared his shoulders, his expression calm but unyielding. “You heard me. She can’t control it. Now, do you want to keep making a scene, or are you going to walk away?”

After a moment of tense silence, the man muttered something under his breath and turned away. Chan stayed by your side, his hand brushing the small of your back as he looked at you. “You okay?”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you nodded, feeling both overwhelmed and touched by his defense. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t be.” He smiled softly, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “You don’t have to apologize for being you, Y/N.”

As you left the café together, the cool night air brushed against your face, but it didn’t feel as sharp as it had earlier. Not with Chan walking beside you, his presence steady and comforting. You looked at him, your heart full, and wondered if this was what it felt like to be truly understood.

“You know,” Chan said, breaking the silence with a teasing grin, “If I ever need someone for creative adlibs, I think you’ve got a solid resume.”

You burst into laughter, the sound blending with the night, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like it was okay to just be you.

As you walked side by side down the quiet street, the tension from earlier melted away into a comfortable silence. Chan glanced at you, the way the faint glow of the streetlights caught in your hair and softened the nervous creases in your expression. He felt a quiet sense of awe settle in his chest, like he’d stumbled upon something rare and precious without even realizing it.

You were real- messy and raw and unapologetically yourself in ways that left him both grounded and inspired. He admired the way you carried the weight of your tics with grace, even when the world pushed back harder than it should. And now, as your laughter from his earlier joke faded into the stillness, he realized something else: he didn’t want this to be a fleeting moment or a passing chapter.

Chan could see it- a future where he was by your side, learning every part of what made you you. A future where he’d be the one to hold your hand during hard days and celebrate the victories that came your way. The thought both terrified and thrilled him, but as he glanced down at you, your soft smile easing the ache of your earlier tears, he couldn’t imagine wanting anything else.

"Y/N," he said softly, his voice breaking through the quiet. "Thanks for letting me see this side of you tonight. I mean it- it makes me want to stick around."

You looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone, but the warmth in his gaze left no room for doubt. And as you continued walking together into the night, your heart felt just a little lighter, the first stirrings of something new and hopeful beginning to take root.

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Changbin

Changbin had been skeptical about the blind date from the start. His friends had teased him relentlessly, insisting he needed to “put himself out there,” and while he’d grumbled about it, here he was. Standing in line at the movie theater, his phone buzzed with a quick text confirming you’d arrived.

When his eyes met yours across the crowded lobby, his breath caught. You were standing near the concessions, shifting nervously on your feet as you looked around. There was something endearingly hesitant about the way you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, like you were steeling yourself.

"Hi," you greeted softly when he approached, offering a shy smile. Your voice was gentle but warm, and it immediately put him at ease.

“Hey,” he replied, his grin spreading easily. “You must be Y/N.”

As you nodded, a quick, staccato whistle broke through the air- a sound you made involuntarily. It was followed by a soft “meow” and an apologetic wince on your part.

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, your gaze darting to his face as if bracing for judgment.

Changbin tilted his head slightly, his expression curious but kind. “Did you just...meow?” A musical sound lilted amusingly at the end of his sentence.

Your cheeks flushed. “I- um- I have Tourette’s,” you explained in a rush, your words tumbling over each other. “I can’t always control my tics, and sometimes they’re, uh…kind of random. Like the meowing. Or…” You paused as another whistle slipped out, followed by a faint, high-pitched “boo!”

For a moment, he just blinked at you, then broke into a wide smile. “In all honesty...that’s kind of adorable. You’re like a sound effects board.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, caught off guard by his response. “You don’t think it’s… weird?”

He shrugged, his gaze warm and steady. “Everyone’s got their quirks. Yours just happen to make you sound like a cartoon character, and honestly, I think that’s awesome.”

Relief flooded your features, and your shoulders relaxed slightly. “Most people don’t really see it that way.”

“Well, most people are missing out.” He shot you a playful wink, and when you laughed, the tension in the air dissolved.

The two of you fell into an easy rhythm as you moved through the line, chatting about everything from favorite movies to your shared love of snacks. Changbin couldn’t help but notice how your tics- whistles, squeaks, and the occasional unexpected phrase- seemed to punctuate your sentences like exclamation points.

“Honestly,” he said at one point, his tone teasing, “your tics match my cute energy, don't you think?” He said poking his cheek in mock aegeyo. "It's babygirl heaven, don't you think?"

You laughed so hard at that, you nearly dropped your drink. “I cannot believe you just said that.”

He grinned, pleased with himself. “What can I say? Its the truth.”

But as you approached the counter to pick up your popcorn, the mood shifted. A group of teens standing nearby had been snickering quietly, but their whispers grew louder when one of your tics- a sudden, sharp “woof!” -rang out.

“Did she just bark?” one of them muttered, barely concealing a laugh.

Another chimed in, mockingly imitating the sound.

Your cheeks flushed, and you quickly turned away, mumbling an apology to the cashier as another tic- this time a chirped “uh-oh!”- slipped out. The laughter from the group grew louder, and you visibly flinched, trying to shrink into yourself.

Before you could even process what was happening, Changbin stepped forward, his voice cutting through the commotion like a blade. “Hey, is there a problem?”

The teens fell silent, their smug grins faltering under the weight of his glare.

“Because if there is,” he continued, his tone calm but laced with steel, “I suggest you take a good, long look at yourselves and figure out why you think laughing at someone for something they can’t control makes you feel better about your own lives.”

One of them opened their mouth to respond, but the words seemed to die on their tongue as Changbin took a deliberate step closer, his presence suddenly towering despite his shorter frame.

“Thought so,” he said, his smile tight and unyielding. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

He turned back to you, his expression softening immediately. “You okay?”

Your throat felt tight, but you managed a nod, blinking back the sting of tears. “Yeah. I just…I’m embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed? For what?” His brow furrowed in genuine confusion.

“For causing a scene. For…” You hesitated, your voice breaking slightly. “For being a lot.”

Changbin’s expression softened, but his voice was steady and firm as he rested his hand gently on your arm, grounding you. “Y/N, you are just you. And anyone who can’t see how amazing that is doesn’t deserve your time, okay?”

The sincerity in his voice was overwhelming, his gaze so earnest it made your chest ache. For a moment, all you could do was nod, your chest tightening with a mix of gratitude and something deeper you couldn’t quite name.

As the two of you settled into your seats in the theater, he handed you your drink, his shoulder brushing yours in a way that felt both casual and deliberate. He leaned closer, his tone warm and teasing. "Like I said, I think your tics are adorable. And with a face like yours, I don't think any tic could be ugly or embarrassing."

Your laugh bubbled out, soft and genuine, and his grin widened. The tension you’d been carrying began to ease, replaced by a quiet sense of comfort.

Throughout the movie, you couldn’t help but notice the way he’d glance at you when you laughed at a scene or leaned forward slightly during an intense moment. It wasn’t just the movie holding his attention- it was you.

And Changbin knew it. With every glance, every tiny movement you made, he felt his resolve strengthening. He didn’t just want to spend the evening with you; he wanted to be part of your life in every way. He wanted to learn all the things that made you laugh, what made your eyes light up, what brought out the quiet confidence he’d glimpsed earlier.

He wanted to be the person you trusted with every part of yourself, the one who reminded you how extraordinary you were even when you couldn’t see it.

When the credits rolled, he stayed seated for a moment, turning to face you as you stretched and looked over at him. His chest tightened as he saw the way your smile hesitated, like you weren’t sure he’d want to stick around for more.

But he did. He wanted everything.

“How about dinner?” he asked, his words quick but hopeful. “I mean…if you’re up for it. I’d really like to keep talking to you. About anything. Everything.” His voice softened, carrying a weight of sincerity that made your breath catch. “I want to know you, Y/N. All of you.”

Your cheeks warmed, and a smile broke across your face, shy but unguarded. “I’d like that.”

As the two of you walked out of the theater, the night air felt lighter, the buzz of the world around you fading into the background. Changbin fell into step beside you, his shoulder brushing yours again.

Then, without hesitation, he reached out, his hand slipping into yours. His touch was gentle but firm, grounding, like he wanted to hold onto you in every way.

Your fingers curled around his, and when you glanced up, his smile softened, his dark eyes brimming with something you couldn’t quite name.

In that moment, Changbin wasn’t just thinking about the next date or the night ahead. He was thinking about the way you made his heart race, the way you made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t realized he was missing.

He wanted more of this- more of you. Not just tonight, not just a few dates, but always. And as his thumb brushed lightly over the back of your hand, he realized one thing: he didn’t just want you around. He wanted you in his life, forever.

And he was so happy he didn't say no to this blind date.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Han

Han Jisung had never considered himself the blind-date type. He liked to think of himself as spontaneous, sure- but not this kind of spontaneous. Yet, here he was, bundled in his favorite oversized hoodie, leaning against the railing of the city’s rooftop garden, waiting for a stranger.

When he saw you, his first thought was that his friend had undersold this whole setup. You weren’t at all what he expected- not that he knew what to expect. You were a breathtaking kind of pretty. And Han's heart flipped his chest.

You walked up with a careful sort of confidence, clutching the strap of your tote bag, your breath misting in the cool night air.

“Hi,” you greeted with a shy smile, your head tilting slightly as you blinked rapidly, followed by a quick jerk of your shoulder.

“Hi,” Jisung replied, pretending not to notice. He already felt his nerves settle slightly. There was something about you that felt...real.

Your mutual friend had mentioned you liked quiet settings, so instead of a loud restaurant or café, the garden had seemed like a good idea. Jisung gestured to the path leading further into the rooftop greenery. “Shall we walk?”

You nodded, your steps matching his, though every few strides you tapped your fingers against your leg. A small tic, but it was constant, like a rhythm you needed to keep.

The conversation started slow. Typical blind-date awkwardness lingered, but Jisung’s natural humor quickly worked its way in. He made a joke about the chilly weather, earning a laugh from you that felt like a little victory.

“So,” he began after a lull, “what’s your favorite thing to do in the city? Or are you more of a stay-home-and-chill type?”

“I like to stay in most days,” you admitted, tilting your head again as your hand briefly flicked out to your side. “I guess I’m more introverted. But when I do go out, I like quieter places…like this.”

“Good choice,” Jisung agreed, kicking the ground nervously. “Crowds are overrated anyway.”

You laughed softly, but your shoulders twitched again, more pronounced this time. You tried to suppress it, but Jisung caught the way your hand clenched slightly afterward, as if bracing yourself.

As the walk continued, your tics became more noticeable- a rapid blinking, a jerk of your wrist, the occasional tap of your foot on the pavement mid-stride. You hesitated for a moment before stopping by a bench, your hand brushing against your hair as you looked at the ground.

“Hey,” you said, your voice quieter now, “I think I should tell you something.”

Jisung turned to face you, his brow furrowed in concern. “What’s up?”

“I have Tourette’s,” you explained, your tone steady but guarded. “It’s not super severe, I've learned to live with it most days, but…I wanted to mention it in case…” You trailed off, your hand twitching slightly toward your chest before falling back to your lap.

“In case what?” Jisung asked gently.

“In case it’s…too much.”

For a moment, Jisung stared at you, his face unreadable. You wondered if you’d just ruined the evening. But then he spoke, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“Too much? Are you kidding? I can be a lot. Like, ask anyone.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by his lighthearted tone.

“I mean, seriously,” he continued, gesturing wildly for emphasis. “I talk way too much when I’m nervous, I lose stuff constantly, and don’t even get me started on how clumsy I am. If anyone’s a walking chaos machine, it’s me.”

You laughed softly, but it didn’t last long. Your shoulder jerked twice, quickly followed by an involuntary flick of your hand. You sighed, your lips trembling slightly as you looked away. “But it’s not just that, Jisung,” you muttered, your voice breaking slightly. “I… I don’t want to mess this up.”

His teasing grin faded, replaced by a look of concern. “Mess what up?”

“This,” you whispered, blinking rapidly as tears welled in your eyes. “You’re so nice, and I already really like you, but then there’s… me. My tics. It’s not just that I get nervous; it’s that I can’t stop it. And I hate thinking that it might make people uncomfortable, even if they don’t mean for it to.”

Your words spilled out faster than you could stop them, and you quickly wiped at your eyes, frustrated with yourself. “I don’t want to scare you away. But I…I don’t know how not to. Everyone else has been scared away before- but you seem really nice and I actually feel something and I don't want to put hope into something that-”

Jisung felt his chest tighten at your words. Without thinking, he dropped down to sit beside you on the bench, interupting you, his tone soft but firm. “Hey, hey, don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”

You shook your head, a small, bitter laugh slipping out. “Sorry, I’m just…making this worse, aren't I?” You flicked your hand out again, accidentally slapping Han.

“No,” he said quickly. “No, you’re not. I mean it.”

When you didn’t respond, Jisung hesitated before reaching out, his hand hovering awkwardly near your shoulder. “Can I…?”

You nodded, and he gently rested his hand there, his thumb brushing lightly against the fabric of your coat. “Listen,” he began, “I don’t know who made you think you had to be scared of people running away from you being you, but they’re wrong. You’re…you’re great. And brave, too, for being so honest about this. I admire that.”

You blinked at him through your tears, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. You hand jerked out, but this time he caught it, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“And honestly?” he continued, a small smile tugging at his lips, as he rubbed his hands over your manicured nails. “You’re not scaring me away. Like, at all. If anything, you’re just making me want to know you better.”

You let out a shaky breath, his words sinking in slowly but surely. “Really?”

“Really,” he confirmed, his eyes crinkling with warmth. “And besides, I kind of suck at running, Like really really suck. I trip more than I actually run.”

A soft laugh escaped you then, the tension in your chest easing for the first time that evening. “You’re kind of amazing, you know that?”

Jisung’s cheeks flushed pink, but he shrugged playfully. “I mean, I try.”

The rest of the night felt lighter. The two of you walked through the garden, Han's hand still in yours, your tics still present but no longer a source of discomfort. Every now and then, Jisung would glance at you- never with pity, but with curiosity and something warmer, softer.

As the two of you stopped at the edge of the rooftop, overlooking the twinkling lights below, Jisung turned to you with a thoughtful expression.

“You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “I think this is my favorite blind date ever.”

You raised an eyebrow. “How many have you been on?”

“This is my first,” he admitted with a sheepish laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “But still! It’s gonna be hard to top…”

You raised an eyebrow, giving him an amused look.

“Not that I want it to be topped,” he continued quickly, a bit flustered. “I always kind of figured I’d be a one-and-done deal. Like my first is my last...and, I mean, it might be way too soon to say, but I think I lucked out with you…I kind of just feel it.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile couldn’t help but tug at your lips.

“Really, though,” Jisung added, his gaze earnest, eyes softening. “I had a great time tonight. And…if you’re up for it, I’d like to properly date you...”

“Even with my…” You gestured vaguely, your voice trailing off.

"Because of it," he corrected gently, his voice soft but unwavering. His eyes searched yours, full of warmth and something deeper that made your breath catch. "It's part of you- every piece of it. And I don’t just like who you are…I can easily see myself fall for you."

His words hung in the cool night air, wrapping around you like a tender embrace. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, your heart pounding so fiercely it was a wonder he couldn’t hear it.

“Jisung…” you murmured, your voice shaky but full of emotion.

He smiled, that familiar sheepish tilt to his lips, but his gaze stayed steady, unwavering in its honesty. “I don’t want this to be just a ‘one and done’ date. I want to keep getting to know you. To see where this could go. So that maybe you can be my one and done person.”

Your lips curved into a soft smile, your chest tightening with something you hadn’t dared to hope for. “Okay,” you whispered, the word carrying more weight than you expected. “I’d like that too.”

His grin widened, and the way he looked at you in that moment- like you were the only person in the world- made you feel like you could get used to this, to him, far too easily.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon

@night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz

[reallychaoticwoo]

⛓️ Im so sorry it's taken so long but here it is! I really hope you enjoy it and I was able to do what you imagined 🖤 ⛓️

✨️ 7 Sees 1 Team ✨️

❤️Pairing: Yeosang x reader

⚠️Warnings: MDNI 18+ ONLY!! cussing, oral f receiving, fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap it up buttercup), soft dom Yeo, subby fan reader, squirting, voyeurism, slightly possesive Yeo🖤

‼️This is purely for entertainment purposes and does not represent the idols in any way‼️

🖤I just want to apologize again for how long this took ive had a fic that ive been stuck on that kind of shut me down mentally for a while but my writers block is over and i should be posting more frequently here soon! Also, of course theres going to be a happy fluffy ending because i am a simp for a love story even though im also a feral whore 🤣 As always i hope you enjoy and thank you so much for your support!🖤

The concert had been a whirlwind of emotions. You had screamed your heart out, laughed, cried, sang, danced, and obviously completely drooled at the unbelievably god like men preforming on stage. Sadly, the concert had come to an end but at least you still had send off to look forward to. Truly that was the only thing keeping you together in this moment. Making your way to the long hallway to find yourself a spot, you'd spotted the group out of the corner of your eye heading to their dressing room to cool down before they said their final goodbyes. You'd made eye contact with Yeosang during this brief moment and shot him a kind smile and a small wave. He returned the smile and wave before disappearing with the rest of the group.

The wait for Ateez to come back out wasn't actually that long but it felt like forever. Your anxiety had gotten the best of you thinking about how close they'd be, how they would actually be right in front of you, in person, you could genuinely reach out and shake their hand. You were shaking in anticipation. One by one the members passed down the line, each one of them making small talk with you and other fans, signing photocards or other things people had brought, and taking pictures or videos. You weren't prepared for Yeosang to reach you, not after the small hut very meaningful to you (and him, but you didnt know that), exchange of smiles the two of you had only 10 minutes prior.

A few of the girls around you were complementing the statue like man, calling him cute, adorable, sweet, ect. You just smile waiting patiently for him to get to you mumbling under your breathe almost in unison with his words "He's not cute. He's grown, he's handsome, stunning even, but not cute." Your words, which you thought no one could hear above the crowd of excited fans, caught his attention, his ears perking up at the fact you agreed with him, and not only that, you said he wasn't cute right as he had said it to the fans. To him, it felt like you understood him in that moment. He could do cute things, but he, himself, was not cute.

Finally putting himself directly in front of you to chat for a moment, he asked if you'd like a picture to which you obviously said yes. After a couple pictures, he chatted with you asking how you enjoyed the concert, who your bias was, and almost too quietly for you to hear, if you had any plans after send off. You answered every question, a little hesitant on the last one not sure how to answer as you didn't think telling him that your only plans were to go home and daydream about this night for the next week would be a good answer. Instead you said you didn't really have plans to which he smiled excitedly. Feeling a bit more confident around you and finding you were so easy to be around he asked you if you'd like to join him after send off to hang out. He wasn't obvious about it as there were many people around but his mood greatly improved after he moved away from you and continued down the line. Little did you know you had just made his night as special as he had made yours.

Finding you after send off wasn't too hard for him as you hadn't moved a single inch since he asked you to join him for the night. You felt like your heart was beating out of your chest and you'd been in a state of shock since that moment. When he caught your eyes you immediately perked up and shot him another smile and small wave, to which he returned as his made his way to you. "Hello, Tiny! Thank you for staying after, hopefully the wait wasn't too long!" Gosh, his voice was serene, melting you with every word. "No, not at all. Honestly I could've waited hours if needed it's not every day your bias asks to get to know you. I feel like this is a dream." You chuckled, a bit embarrassed at how eager you were coming off.

Noticing your nerves which he very much felt as well in this moment, he grabbed your hand and started walking with you. "Its not every day I ask to get to know a fan. If I'm being completely honest you're actually the first person I've asked to stay and wanted to get to know." The blush on his face said it all. You knew Yeosang wasn't much as much of an outgoing man as his fellow members. You admired that about him, how he seemed to be content in his own company, how he could be reserved and still scream confidence and mesmerize an entire fan base. "Well I'm honored to be the first." Your voice was barely audible, but he heard you loud and clear. "If I'm going to be truly honest, I do also feel the need to let you know you're the first one that's caught my attention in other ways as well. However I'm fully okay with getting to know you as a friend if you're uninterested in anything more than that." You froze on the spot, almost making the muscular man stumble back as his hand that was holding yours tugged against him. "I'm sorry, that was very forward. Please disregard that. I would very much like to just get to know you." Still standing in place you looked around yourself noticing you were now in a different hallway with many doors on each side of you.

Noticing some of them seemed to be dressing rooms for the background dancers and the one that seemed to be for Ateez. You slowly took a step forward letting Yeosang continue to lead you only a few more steps before you were outside the groups dressing room. Looking at the plaque on the door and then back to him you finally spoke, " I- I'm sorry for my reaction, I just.. I wasn't expecting that. But since you've been so honest with me I feel I should return the favor and let you know that I have definitely thought about more intimate scenarios involving you and myself as well. So I'm by no means going to turn you down if that's what you're insinuating." You were certain your cheeks were bright red as you looked up to the man with hopefull eyes. "Wonderful, then let's hurry with the fun half before the guys get back, we have all night to talk and get to know each other afterwards."

You hadn't even made it three steps in the door before Yeosang had you pinned against it, his lips pressed against your own, kissing you passionately, his one hand resting against your jaw, his other moving down your body to find it's place on your hip. You didn't expect this from him, but that didn't mean you were pleasantly surprised. Small soft moans escaping your lips only to be swallowed by the very hungry man in front of you. Without breaking the kiss for even a moment, he moved his hands down to your thighs giving them a gentle squeeze before lifting you up and placing you on the large vanity nearby.

Sloppy kisses and hands exploring each other already had you reeling in anticipation, your whines getting needier by the second. "Can I touch you sweetheart? I need to feel you wrapped around my fingers." The most drunken sounding yes escaped your mouth as his hands began to make their way down your thighs to your knees before traveling back up to your hips, squeezing and massaging them. His thumbs slipped under the top of your jeans, a light tug asking your permission, before taking them off of you fully. He reveled at the sight of your lower half exposed to him, licking his lips at the glistening cunt that sat before him just waiting to be devoured. Taking his shirt off, he stepped closer to you placing suckling kisses from your jaw to your shoulder and back again, all while slipping one of his fingers into your tight hole. You gasped at the intrusion, your eyes shutting at the feeling, already so close to your release. "Fuck baby, when's the last time anyone fucked this pretty little cunt of yours? You're so fucking tight for me."

Oh, he was going to ruin you for anyone else after this. Make you fit him perfectly molding your cunt to him and only him. You were perfect, you just didn't know it yet. "I, ah fuck - i.." He slipped in a second finger as you were trying to answer him to the best of your ability. "Fuuuckkk Yeo, shit, I've only ever done this twice, wrong person. Fuck please don't stop." That was it. He was determined to be the right person, the only person from here on out. "Fuck, sweet girl just waiting for me to claim you weren't you?" He slipped in a third finger, pumping it fast and hard hitting the perfect spot to make you unravel for him. Adding his thumb to the mix, tracing slow circles around your clit as his fingers pumped into you mercilessly, drove you over the edge. "Fuuck yes, yes, God yes, Yeo, make me yours." Your legs clamping together as you surrendered to your pleasure, your chest rising and falling rapidly. He slowed his pave as you rode out your high, removing his fingers to bring them to his mouth, sucking your sweet juices off them. "Shit you taste fucking delicious baby. Think you can come for me one more time before I fuck you sweetheart? You're already being such a good girl for me." You were already a mess, your mind wondering around itself in pure bliss, your previous times being nothing compared to the pleasure Yeosang just gave you using only his fingers. "Yes please, want you to taste me, all for you." You mumbled out, eyes barley open. "Such a pretty doll, so polite even being all fucked out already."

Pulling up a chair, he sat himself right infront of your soaked pussy, grabbing your thighs to hold you in place as he licked painfully slow up your folds. Your legs already trying to clamp together, still barely recovered from your previous orgasm. "Stay still precious. I want to enjoy my meal." You tried you best to follow his directions, but when his tongue made it's way deep inside you, your back arched, hips bucking up into him as your head fell back into the mirror. "I said be still princess, wouldn't want you hurting yourself, or getting hurt because you aren't listening." He emphasized his words with a hard press of his thumb to your clit. You didn't dare move but the cry you let out was all in vain as he was now rubbing harsh circles against your overly sensitive nub to hear you cry for him over and over again. You were so close to exploding under him your hands gripping the edge of the vanity for dear life. A few more harsh rubs as his tongue worked your walls strategically and you were done for. Your vision went white, stars floating around your eyes as you felt warmth flood your thighs dripping down your ass. Yeosang relentlessly lapping up every drop he could, circling your clit faster to prolong your release as long as possible.

What neither of you expected was at that very moment, was the door opening, revealing the rest of the members of Ateez standing there, mouths agape. "Shit. Uh." You struggled to straighten yourself up so you weren't on full display to the entire group but Yeosang wouldn't let you move. "Isn't she beautiful? So good for me too. I'm more soaked now than I was on stage." He looked towards the men who still hadn't moved an inch. San was the first to break the silence. "She's fucking gorgeous Yeo." The rest if the men nodded in agreement. "Oh don't I know it. Now before you all go getting any ideas, I'm going to stop that shit right now." He shot them all warning glares. Then he turned to look at you, "Princess will you please turn around for me?" His voice was even lower now, and you were in a trance. Obeying the blonde haired man you moved yourself off of the vanity trying to steady your shaking legs as you turned to face the mirror. "Good girl, now keep your eyes on yourself baby okay? I want you to see how beautiful you look when I fuck you." You shivered at his words, goosebumps spreading down your spine.

Yeosang deadpanned the group of men who were all breathing heavily at the sight before them. "Now I won't make you leave this time because I want you to listen very carefully got it?" The men all nodded, a few of them already palming their length through their pants. You heard Yeosangs belt coming undone, shortly after he was behind you one hand on your hip and the other rubbing his member up and down your sopping cunt collecting your slick before slowly pushing his thick long member inside you inch by inch. "Fuck Yeo, feel ssoo good" You're eyes rolled back as he fully sheathed himself inside. "So fucking tight for me baby, fit me perfectly." He pulled out until his tip was all that was left before thrusting into you with a quick snap. Keeping your eyes fixed on the mirror like you were told you let out a cry gasping at the painful pleasure of each harsh thrust. "FUCK AAHHH all for you, it's just for you!" Tears starting to form in the corners of your eyes as he continued to ram into you brutally, hitting all the right spots. He turned his attention to the men who most of which were now jerking themselves in their pants unable to control their need in the moment.

"I hope you all heard that. She's mine. There will be no fucking sharing so I hope you all get your fix this time, cause it will not happen again." He landed a rather hard smack to your ass as emphasis before pulling you upright by your hair. "Look at this baby, their all so needy for you. So beautiful infront of them. Too bad you're all for me. Isn't that right darling?" You were sobbing at this point your brain was no longer in control you'd fully surrendered to pleasure. To the pleasure Yeosang provided. "R-ri-right Yeo. Only - only yours, please, f-fuck- please Yeo..." You weren't fully sure why you were begging you just knew you were fucking close to snapping, your body ready to come undone for the third time tonight. Yeosang was kind enough to give you what you needed, pulling your back flush against his chest, his hand wrapped around your throat as he leaned in to suck on the dip of your neck, his other hand snaking it's way down to your pretty little clit. Speeding up his pace becoming more sloppy with each thrust he pulled away from your neck with a pop, the purple mark prominent only making him more eager. "I need you to tell me where you want me darling, I'm close." You barely registered his words, on the edge of your own high. "Inside, please Yeosang I need you inside of me, make me yours, please please" Coming undone as you begged him to do the same, your vision going white yet again, your body loosing its hold on itself. If it weren't for Yeosang holding you against him you definitely would've fallen. At the sound of your pleas, and the feeling of your walls spasming around him, the warm spray of your release coating his thighs and everything near by, his hips studdered deep into you his hot ropes of cum spurting all over your walls. Coming down from his own high he gave a few more shallow thrusts before pulling out of you completely.

Addressing the others in the room Yeosang said, "Now that you've all had your fun I suggest you go clean up and change. Before you do just know that we will not be speaking a word of this moving forward. And if she so chooses, she will be coming back with me." Moving quickly to kick the men out of the dressing room and lock the door, Yeosang made his way back to you to help you to the couch on the other side of the room. He gently helped you lay down making sure you were as comfortable as possible. "You did so good for me baby. Let me help you clean up and once your feeling good enough we can go to my hotel room and talk for as long as you'd like. Does that sound good?" You nodded a blissful smile painting your face.

As Yeosang went to find a towel to clean the two of you up, you recalled what he'd said to the group before kicking them out. "Yeo?" You called out to him. "Yes, darling?" He replied as his made his way back to you with a fresh towel and some water. "Did you mean what you said to them about bringing me home with you?" You asked him shyly. He'd seen you naked, hell, you just squinted on him twice, but the thought that he might want something more than that made your stomach flutter. He gently wiped away what he could before helping you with your clothing. "Of course I did. I don't say things. I don't mean beautiful. But it's your decision on if you want to come with me or not." It was almost instantly that replied, "I'd love to."

[marloloweler]

﴾ Avoidant, are we now? ﴿

╭ ─┉─ • ─┉─ ╮

After March had pestered Dan Heng one too many times, he's finally had enough of her antics. In a surprising turn of events, March's oh-so-genius idea of using Stelle as a human shield unexpectedly worked...for now, at least.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❥‎Honkai: Star Rail

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❥‎Ler!Dan Heng, March 7th (briefly)

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❥‎Lee!Stelle, March 7th (briefly)

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❥‎This fic is entirely platonic/familial. • Additional brief mentions and appearances from Pom-Pom are included in this fic as well! There are also brief mentions of Himeko and Welt, but no actual appearances from them.

‎ ‎ ‎ ❥‎Small disclaimer ;; I use They/Them pronouns for Pom-Pom here (I think those are the canon pronouns too), as well as They/She pronouns for Stelle (argue. with. the. wall. 🧱 /lh)

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❥‎Rahhh, hi @yellowelectroslime!!! I'm your squealing santa delivery driver person!!!!! I had bad burnout during the process of writing this, as well as a good old-fashioned diagnosis of the sad and unfortunate concept that is writer's block (it's 12:32am as I'm currently posting this but I'll be off to bed soon bc i gotta wake up for school in like 5 hours help), I'm so, so, SO sorry for taking this long!!! I hope you've had a happy new year and the best of your holidays!!!

‎ ‎ ❥‎So happy to have participated in @squealing-santa for a second time!! I think I've improved from my squealing santa fic in 2023!

‎ ‎ ❥‎Anyways this trio has me sobbing and weeping on my knees. After hearing March's constantly cheerful and goofy laughs during her dialogue and the very rare moments that Dan Heng chuckles, I genuinely need to hear how Stelle's laugh would sound ingame. Thankfully, her voice actor (I love Rachael Chau /platonic) sounds deathly similar to her character so it's very easy to imagine!!!!

‎ ‎ ‎❥‎Please bare with me as I may go a little off character, this is my 2nd ever hsr fic (the stelle and march fic i wrote like prob almost 2 years ago is so- aagghh i hate it pls stop reading my old stuff guys 😭😭😭😭😔😔😔😔💔💔💔 /sar)

‎ ‎ ‎❥‎This fic takes place before the events of either Jarilo-IV or the Xianzhou Luofu, mainly during the time where Stelle had first joined.

‎ ‎ ‎ ❥‎Word Count: 1,648

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❥Fic Under The Cut!

╰ ─┉─¡! • !¡─┉─ ╯

March 7th had, once yet again, dug her own metaphorical grave even deeper than previously. She had been told off countless times by both Dan Heng, and Pom-Pom.

Well, mainly Dan Heng.

She would always constantly pester the archivist in his work, always determined to get the stoic man to learn her optimistic ways, himself. Despite this, he had always gotten onto her for the bothersome attempts; eventually resulting in the poor conductor having to start dragging her away.

It was always the same old "Don't bother passenger Dan Heng while he's working! Pom-Pom's told you already, you know better!" from the conductor, yet she wasn't planning to back down just yet.

Well she eventually did listen, though not for very long. It wasn't until Stelle had joined the express crew that an idea clicked into March's brain. A risky idea, at that. Knowing that Stelle wouldn't necessarily know any better about being outside of her room (or near someone like Himeko or Mr. Yang, for that matter actually) whenever she was acting out her schemes and antics, March grinned while the cogs and gears turned in her brain.

It was a very calm and peaceful afternoon on the Astral Express. Himeko was peacefully brewing her coffee, Welt was interacting with Pom-Pom (who was currently cleaning up), and Stelle had just woken up and was greeting the others as she had exited the party car, her room being on its second floor.

Meanwhile, March was in the hallway of the passenger cabin, completely bored out of her mind until she could almost immediately hear the frustrated and irritated groans coming from Dan Heng. Deciding to walk towards the door, and slightly peek in, she noticed him working on something in the data bank.

That's when March thought of a silly little idea to annoy the aloof train guard. Pom-Pom, having been walking by, noticed this and gave a glare towards March before they spoke up quietly.

“March, don't you dare. If you even bother passenger Dan Heng again, Pom-pom's not going to save you this time.”

But even still, March did not listen. It was to be expected at this point, though it was still pretty annoying for the crew at times. Just as the conductor strutted away into the parlor car, March began to strategize her plan. All she intended to do this time was just sneak up behind the archivist and startle him with a few taps to his shoulder and hide somewhere to snap a picture of his reaction.

That was what she *intended * to have happened. How it actually *went *, on the other hand..

March sneaking in and hiding was the easiest part of all, since Dan Heng happened to have a couple of empty boxes stacked up in the archives that he hadn't gotten rid of just yet. Therefore, she could hide behind those. Getting to start the second part of her plan, however, was a teensy bit more challenging. He seemed to be quite active in the archives today, so she had to wait out a while of him just walking around.

Thankfully, he stopped right in front of the data bank to work on it and update some things. Whether or not he was actually distracted didn't matter to her, March was just glad that this would work out all too smoothly for her.

..Or so she thought.

As soon as she knew the coast was clear, March set her camera up to immediately snap a couple of photos within a few seconds of initial delay. During that process, she had changed her mind of how she'd actually approach Dan Heng. She remembered how a few times of being asked, Dan Heng would always deny the possibility of him being ticklish and everybody always having gone along with it so as to not annoy him.

This didn't sit right with her, though. She had her mind set on his very reaction. After making sure that her camera was perfectly set up, She'd set the delay to about 11 seconds before pressing the button and slowly sneaking up on Dan Heng from behind. March's mistake, however, was not considering whether or not he was actually distracted enough.

Even still, she had “successfully” snuck up on him. As a result, she'd immediately poke and prod, as well as squeezing gently, at his sides before immediately hurrying back to behind the boxes after the photos were snapped. She was sure that he hadn't expected it and had to wait a bit before the photos were completely processed, yet she still “succeeded” in her plan.

Her second mistake was not actually checking Dan Heng's expressions as she went to hide once more.

After quietly and patiently waiting a few moments, her photos were eventually processed. March looked at the photos with vast excitement, only to look a bit shocked when she noticed how all the photos were of Dan Heng staring right at the camera intently, albeit with a slight smirk on his lips. Before she knew it, Dan Heng could be seen staring at her from the other side of the boxes with a dry chuckle escaping, despite himself.

“Seems you really thought this through, haven't you?” Dan Heng murmured in faux curiosity. “What a shame, you *almost* had me there. Don't think I'll let this act of your's slide, though.”

Just as he spoke, he began to try and approach her. Slightly panicky, though more playful than terrified, March bolted off without her camera. She was looking for a way to protect herself from the stoic guard, when she suddenly figured it out.

During all of this, Stelle had entered the hallway to go and ask Dan Heng about something, when she suddenly felt a tight hug from behind and gasped slightly in surprise. “Aah-! March?! What's going on- AHAhah-! Wahaihit! Dohon’t use me ahahas your humahan shield!”

Stelle could almost immediately tell that by Dan Heng jogging over and the light scribbling against her ribcage, March was trying to use her to get out of Dan Heng's retaliation. Though Dan Heng stopped in front of them to question it, this wasn't necessarily going to do any good for Stelle's defense.

“So now we're just resorting to using Stelle as the equivalent of whenever a criminal uses their hostage as a way to avoid my scolding, are we?” Dan Heng replied with yet another dry chuckle, though a bit more playful.

“Nuh uh! You'll have to get through Stelle first, Dan Heng! She's my accomplice, don't listen to her!

Despite the fact that he knew this would be exactly how March responded, Dan Heng would still be more merciful on Stelle since he knew that it was March's doing, alone. Yet, that still didn't stop him from having to quite literally get through Stelle first.

“Waihit! I- I nehever agreed to ahany of this! Plehease no! I have a fahamihily of nihine to feed! I-..! I have so muhuhuch to live fohohor!” Stelle, still giggling from March's light scribbles, was practically pleading for Dan Heng to spare her. Though she was being a bit dramatic and silly, it was pretty funny to see her giggling like this.

“Hmhm, your melodrama is actually pretty amusing to listen to. You almost managed to get a chuckle out of me there. I must say, you're quite the source of entertainment, Stelle.” Dan Heng murmured in amusement.

Approaching a little more, his fingers reached her ribcage and softly skittered around the sides. This sudden action left the poor trailblazer’s voice to pitch up slightly in octave from how ticklish the spot was for Stelle. She pleaded a bit, even twisting and turning a little to try and escape, though all attempts were in vain.

“NooOHhoo! DaAHAn HeeHEng! Waihihiit! Nahaohoott theheehe ribcaHAhaAaaage! P—PleheEAhease!”

March was practically beaming in excitement as her plan was working out so well for her. ..Almost *too* well, that is.

While she was set on waiting off Dan Heng’s efforts with this tactic of hers, the aloof guard was already two steps ahead of her. After a couple moments of Stelle practically crumbling under barely any effort from the tickling, he finally let up. While his first idea was to make sure Stelle had held up alright afterwards, he had a certain bubbly menace to deal with first.

“March,” Dan Heng started, his voice lowering slightly that could scare even Welt, himself, if used in certain circumstances. “Don’t think you're off the hook just because you dragged Stelle into this.”

Oh no.

March immediately took the signs and realized that what Pom-Pom had said earlier, mainly about not saving her from Dan Heng this time, really *was * genuine. She let out a few sheepish and nervous laughs before slowly backing up a bit and attempting to retreat to her own room. Dan Heng managed to grab onto her wrist though, trapping her in a hug from behind before slightly turning his line of vision to Stelle.

“You alright now? I’m assuming you needed something, so I'll get back to that once I deal with her.” Stelle nodded at his words, taking a few moments to catch her breath while she watched Dan Heng practically drag March back to her room.

Soon enough, high pitched squeals were audible from where Stelle had stood. While the trailblazer had eventually calmed down, she was still unsure how long it would take for Dan Heng to return; especially considering how much of a handful March could be sometimes.

She didn't necessarily pay any mind to it, however, and just waited inside of the archives. She picked out an interesting enough book, sitting down in the train guard's office chair for the time being to wait things out. Besides, it wouldn't be anytime soon that Dan Heng would be finished, after all, and Stelle wasn't impatient or busy today.

————————————————

[altzfanfic]

Specs x fem!reader

They’ve been dating for a while and he lets her in on what he does for work after she confesses she’s psychic.

I Never Told You What I Do for a Living

Specs x reader

a/n: this is the first fanfiction ive actually written so if its not very good give me some time for improvement im learning,, also english is my second language,, ps i havent seen the insidious movies in a minute so this might be kinda off :3 |no pronouns, no use of y/n

wc: 500ish

In the few months that you had been dating Specs, you had both gotten to know each other fairly well and were very comfortable with each other. However, he was very avoidant whenever you would bring up what he did for a living. Eventually, you started to feel like you were prying, so you gave up on asking and decided to let him tell you whenever he felt comfortable.

Even though you two had been dating for a while, you hadn’t gotten around to telling Specs about your clairvoyant abilities, not because you were ashamed or purposefully hiding it, but because the subject had not come up. 

It was a lazy Saturday morning and you and Specs had decided to go for coffee and a walk. On your way back to your apartment, you walked past an old house and you immediately felt a strong feeling of anger radiating from whatever spirits were in the house. While walking past the house, the energy was so strong that it caused you to physically have to stop and breathe. Specs immediately noticed the change in your demeanor and looked at you with concern in his eyes. You recovered quickly and continued walking. 

“You know that house is super haunted,” you said absent-mindedly.  “Really?” Specs said in an intrigued tone “How do you know that?”

 You smiled “I might be a touch psychic,” you said as you both continued walking. Specs turned to you “Oh, So do you have premonitions or is it just feelings?” he said excitedly “A little bit of both actually” you replied and he nodded attentively 

“Do you hear and see stuff or can you just feel things?” he asked. You paused to take a sip of your coffee before you replied “I feel and hear it mostly, if the energy is really strong that’s when I might be able to see things”

 “Wow,” Specs looks at you very absorbed in the conversation “That is fascinating” You felt a bit surprised by his attitude since other people who have told you this information seemed to regard you as crazy or would outright dismiss anything you said. “You know most people I tell that to look at me like I’m a lunatic”  

He’s quiet for a little before replying “You know I think you should meet my boss” You were a little confused since it kinda seemed like it was unrelated to the conversation but you were interested nonetheless since this was the closest you had gotten in months in being able to find out what he does. “Really?” you responded “Why would you want me to meet your boss?” you joked.

 He smiled “Well actually, she’s a medium and I’m kind of like her assistant, or at least one of her assistants, Tucker also helps a little but I have a slightly more important role,” he said proudly “We’re sorta like professional ghost hunters” you smile back in response and he continues, “I think you should work with us some time” 

You thought about it for a brief moment “Do you think your boss would like me?” Specs smiled at you “I think she would love you, I know that I do”

[valentine-cafe]

(I was itching to draw mama moth with some other deity characters, and as I was reading through, I think Orion would have the sweetest friendship with her since he seems the least morally grey off the other ones Ive read. And yes, I did begin the drawing but since I'll be away from home and not taking the notepad with me, might be a while until I show it😭 anyways-)

Imagine Mama moth reader hanging out with Orion at a nice little cliff. A simple catching up like they've been the longest of pals. They talk about Rinfier, or Rishen (781 and 9948e) before they go to have a little walk through nature before they hear soft music from the city. Orion, being the gentleman he is, asks Moth mama for a dance, which she happily agrees and the two dance like waves of water in the beauty of the forest

-🌕

˖⁺. ﹙ the abyssal angel x fem moth hybrid reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . come dance with me !! 🍒 :  abyssal angel ˖ angel ˖ abyssal admiral﹙ abyssal orion. ﹚

during a light spring day, an abyssal angel and a god dance through the forests of the mortal realm <3

“You took long this time,” You chuckle. With a simple turn of your head to look over your shoulder. Multiple eyes catch onto the abyssal angel that as finally arrived by the cliff with his small melody locket in hand, the music flowing out of it gently.

“Oh, come now, I am an old man with work. Darling.” The response is but a mock groan of exhaust, yet he smiles as he wanders in the direction of the seat next to yours.

Once seated comfortably. The large, dark wings of the abyss close behind him and rest. The little black feathers on his cheekbones disappearing as he settles down.

He is quiet, around most. with the exception of his husbands and you, that is.

“You know I am not fond of the surface light and air.” The little grumble earns an affectionate roll of your eyes. A large lunar moth wing moving to the side to support his back.

“You must learn from the sprout,” You chuckle.

Redirecting your gaze to the forest outlook of the cliff, a small scoff and puff of your wings shift the air around gently, while you poke at the man once more: “Angel can be here for as long as he wishes, and delve into the abyss for hours!”

He scrunches up his nose and squints his eyes at you, poking his draconic tongue out. Few see the fearsome ‘eyes of the abyss’ making such childish expressions. Though, after a moment of playful banter and bickering shared between the two of you, he leans back into your wing and rests his head on your shoulder.

“How is he? Angel, I mean. He has been away for a while.” Moth antenna twitch slightly at his question. Goodness, even you have no clue what the boy is up to these days. Barely any of the gods can follow their son’s quick paced missions.

“I’ve unfortunately not been able to keep up too much with the boy.” The sigh in response is quiet, yet your eyes move to the abyssal admiral’s and you smile. “But alas, he is his own soul too. I do know that there’s been some chaos going on in the spirit realm though.”

Orion shifts to sit straight, eyes blown wide. A little grin settles itself upon his lips as he cocks his head to the side.

“Oh what have you been up to now, hm?”

Your joined laughter ripples through the atmosphere and chatter continues on. The latest gossip across realms, the adventures and the endless work on already busy hands. Godly duties or angelic mattered not, you both knew exactly how the other felt.

Fond memories of your son shared, whilst speaking of the hero of 781 you have taken beneath your wing roll into conversation each and every now and then. While Rinfier and Dakila make their way into the small breaks sometimes too. Orion rambling of how much he misses his other husband. The poor fate is always so busy. . .

“Rishen has been improving quite a lot as of late. The training you advised of me to give him has helped him a lot.” You chime in as Orion and you head to the forest below the cliff. Twirls in the air, angel circling deity as the both of you land on the soft moss.

“Oh? I am pleased to hear that.” He chuckles. Although Orion does not know too much about the Rishen that his good friend has adopted as her son. He is always willing to help out any of the variants he comes across, whether they see him or not. They’re his sons too! Well. . . Kind of not but, Kind of still.

Fatherly bonds aside. Sword laid down on the earth. The angel pulls out the melodious locket he has carried with him since he got here, and opens it, the music louder now, and surrounding the area of the forest.

His hand reaches out for yours to grab.

“Oh, we are dancing?” You chuckle and take the hand, earning a nod, and a soft smile from the other.

“Well who am I to say no to such?”

And so the both of you dance, hour after hour. It matters not how much time passes. A day in the mortal realm is but a minute in their life, and their realms.

[onlybeeewrites]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could do another part to the violinist?? I really loved it!!

Hi lovely! Absolutely! I hope you guys all enjoy part 2 :)

The Violinist: Pt 2

Requested: yes :))

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader ???

Warnings: none

Some information/things I made up for the story so don’t be too harsh :)

(I suggest playing this to hear what the reader was playing to be more immersive :))

———————————————————————————————————————————

Benedict

The Delaney House was a well known home for artists. It was owned by a wealthy contributor to the Royal Academy of The Arts. This house in particular was not residential, however. No, this house was more of a center of the arts within London.

It was open to all people of all status and from all sorts of lives. Men, Women, rich, poorer. Everyone who loved the arts were welcome. There were singers, painters, actors musicians.

There was singing rooms for people like Siena Roso practiced singing sometimes—or to show off that voice of hers. Or similarly, there were large acting rooms where groups of actors or inspiring actors would gather and practice together.

There were music rooms, private and group ones. These held chairs and music stands for those who would bring their own instruments, in the larger rooms pianos were available.

Then there were painting rooms. Small and large alike for group paintings, or more private rooms. This is where Benedict always went to when he could.

This House was an escape for him, to blend and mingle with like minded people to find inspiration. To get honest feedback about his work instead of his family constantly praising him just because. There he had gotten feedback about his work before, genuine feedback about what he could do instead, ways to improve it all.

It was his escape from the pressures of society, where he had seen such talent from people who had to work for each meal every day. Fantastic work from pig farmers, but hey cannot do much since it is not affordable to be an artist when it does not pay well from lower statuses.

The the beauty of it was that, at the Delaney House, you can. Or at least have an escape where people only cared about your abilities and talent; not how rich your family was.

So there was a sense of relief to know no one would see the second eldest Bridgerton and treat him any differently.

It was a Sunday morning when Benedict had decided to visit the Delaney House, his family usually would not question when he would slip out of the house for a few hours.

He entered the front doors and made his way down the long corridor that led to other halls and wings of the building, like a spiderweb of artists. It was early so there were not entirely a lot of people there, though to the ones he had seen he gave a polite nod of his head.

Benedict was making his way towards his usual painting room when he heard something that made him stop in his tracts. It was some sort of violin music? It was not like any formal performance he had attended. The quick sharp, perfect notes filled the hallway to the right, and drifted presently to his ears.

It was never odd for a violinist os such to be here either, though for some reason this music intrigued him. So he took a little detour and followed the sound of the music. He walked further down the hall until he stopped outside one of the smaller practice rooms where the door was just slightly ajar.

Benedict peaked inside and a grin grew on his face as he just recognized the person playing. It was a young woman, in her twenties. As the mysterious player slowly turned, her face was exposed and he realized he had recognized the young women. It was the young woman who he had seen Elouise talking before his family’s Ball just a week or so ago.

It was the young violinist that had instructed himself and his brothers. For some reason, knowing that she had attended the same artistic building as him made his chest swell. It was like a little secret place, that only they knew about. It also told him that she was passionate about her music.

Benedict watched as her fingers moved carefully against the strings to make an array of beautiful notes that was so different that was usually played.

As she came to the finish of the song, Benedict couldn’t help but open the door a bit and speak up.

“Forgive me for interrupting, Miss. But I heard you playing and your melody is truly enchanting,” he praised the stranger, smirking as he watched the girl jump, clearly all lost in the music she created; Benedict knew how that was.

Y/N jumped, quickly turning towards the voice that had startled the silence that filled the room once she had finished playin the song.

“Mr. Bridgerton! You frightened me, I had not heard you approach.” She said as she caught her breath, carefully placing her bow and violin in her case for a moment. Though while she turned to place her instrument down, it gave her a moment to collect herself from his compliments. “And thank you, that is incredibly kind of you to say,” Y/N said before returning her attention back to the second eldest Bridgerton.

Benedict gave her a look, “you know the rules here Miss. Formalities are barred at the doorway to this building,” he playfully teased her, leaning against the door way.

Y/N then raised an eyebrow, “then why do you?” She questioned

Benedict let out a laugh, “Because I am yet to properly know your name,” he hummed, watching as the realization grew over the girl.

Growing ever more flustered she cleared her throat, “Oh forgive me. Y/N Lyndon. A pleasure to…properly meet you,” she said with an added chuckle.

Benedict smirked and bowed his head, “An absolute pleasure Y/N.” He said rather boldly. Y/N. Y/N. It was a beautiful name. The painter only worried if it would ever leave his mind.

“Of course,” Y/N said as she gathered her sheet music placing it away in her bag that held a bunch of other sorts of music. “I am to assume you come here often? I am not surprised with he word of how good you are with your drawings and paints. I think I am just surprised I had yet to see you here before today,” she commented.

Benedict adored the rather casual conversation. It was like a silent agreement that within the walls of the Delaney House that there would be no formalities regardless of who you were. It allowed everyone to be almost on an even playing field.

“Yes I don’t usually come Sundays, often I attend during the week, usually later in the days.” He explained.

Y/N nodded as she closed the case to hr things. “I suppose that makes sense. I am only here Sunday mornings. It is the only time I am free to practice what I wish,” she said with a smile.

Benedict hummed and nodded, “I see. Perhaps I will have to start attending Sunday mornings then,” he said with a grin.

“if that is the case, Benedict, you must come rather early. I come when the sun comes up in the sky. Because…” she glanced to the clock that was handing in the corner. “I must be returning home within the hour.” She said, and she could see Benedict’s grin slowly grow into almost a pout.

“Oh truly? You cannot stay just a little bit longer?” He asked, almost like when a child wishes that their mother would allow them to stay up late.

“Unfortunately not this time. I have family visiting from the country and I have to go get ready. Though perhaps next week you can find me at the Featherington’s Ball on Friday. Or early next Sunday,” she said as she passed him in the doorway, a smirk on her face as she playfully brush against the taller man.

Benedict small pout grew into a smirk at her playfulness and almost minx like behavior. He turned and watched her. “Oh truly you can bet that I shall.” He said. Y/N laughed a bit and gave him a wave over her shoulder before walking down the hallway.

Benedict watched, almost enchanted by ht violinist as she made her way down the hallway and around the corner until she was completely out of sight. Benedict never imagined himself with another artist. But then again, he never knew a violinist could be so enchanting. He knew he would be looking forward to the upcoming ball next week, and he knew exactly who to look for.

[violet-moonstone]

more arcane thoughts because i have more to say actually (only slightly different from my last post tbh)

i love arcane but i have suggestions for improvement -- because i always do. even for my favourite things in the whole world. i can probably only count on one hand the amount of shows, books, and movies ive read/seen that i would say are 100% perfect with no notes (arcane season 1 is one of them)

im not disappointed with any of what happened -- not even the deaths, because while it saddens me when characters die, as long as it makes sense narratively, then its not bad writing (a lot of people think "bad" writing is whatever makes them feel angry or sad)

what im dissapointed in is that everything that happened, despite feeling like plot points and character arcs that make sense on paper, happened without what i think are a lot of necessary transition scenes in between to make those points and arcs believable and earned

(yes this is just a more wordy way of me saying it was rushed)

i kind of felt like i was watching a collection of scenes from an awesome show but not the show itself, you know? (especially in the last episodes)

dont get me wrong -- this is nowhere near the worst finale ive seen. ive seen people compare this to the latter half of game of thrones (sorry GoT fandom, you're catching strays) but that's not true at all. what killed GoT is that the writers stopped giving a shit and pretty much began to openly express disdain or at the very least lack of interest in the world and characters they were writing.

i believe the writers of arcane clearly still deeply love the world and the characters, and thats what saves it for me. it was rushed but not for lack of care. i think they did as much as they could to end the story well, and they just needed more time

aaand insert something here about cherishing the time you have and things being beautiful despite imperfections

i do want to end this somewhat positively because if i get too bogged down in bitterness i will lose appreciation for the many things i love about the show

[gremlin-writes-angst]

Scraps to a Tank

Ive been working on this AU for a while. I'm very excited to finally post the first chapter. I'd love feed back from anyone, about anything. This is one of my favorite things I've come up with/written, and want to know how I can improve.

I am tagging some of my favorite redacted asmr writers/Tumblr pages because I'd love to have some feedback (if comfortable and have the time) but also I just want to share what I have.

This chapter is a little cheesy, so small warning for that.

 1.7 k words

Fandom: Redacted Asmr/Audio

TW/CW: Quinn in other words toxic, controlling, abusive relationship. nothing graphic. This is a Boxing/Fighting Au so there is fighting, i wouldn't consider it graphic, but everyone's different so read with your own discretion.

Let me know if I missed a trigger or spelling mistake.

Please comment and reblog, it lets me know people like my stuff and encourages me to write more!!!!!!

The building was intimidating.

It wasn't tall or fancy like the buildings a couple of blocks down.

It was an average building.

An average gym.

And yet it was still so daunting.

They checked the card for about the sixteenth time.

The sign matched the card.

The dirty, crusty, crumbled-up card.

The card's appearance didn't match its meaning.

This card was their lottery ticket.

��That name doest fit you.”

They turned around, a man, a beast.

He was tall, big, rugged.

The definition of strong.

Standing right in front of them.

“Excuse me?”

“Your fighter name, it doesn't fit you. And honestly neither does this.” 

His hand slowly waved around, gesturing to the alley.

“You're better than an alley fighter.”

They couldn't hold back their laugh, short and dry.

Just like Quinn’s. 

“You must have mistaken me for someone else. I'm the fighter that lost.”

“I know.”

He steps closer.

Yet distanced.

He was still giving them space.

He respected them.

“And everyone and their mothers knows that fight was rigged. Though I could see it.”

Intrigued, they took a step closer.

“See what?”

“The passion. The strength, the techniques, you are a fighter.”

“I’m not.”

“You have the will to be.”

He stretched his hand out, a business card.

“I can teach you.”

“So this guy approached me today.”

All Quinn did was grunt and roll away from them.

“He says he can teach me how to fight.”

Their excitement was palpable.

“I already did.”

The air tensed as he fought to dampen their excitement.

For once, he failed.

“No, like real fighting, I looked up the name on the card. His dad is Gabriel Shaw, like Gabe Shaw!”

They hadn't felt this hopeful for a long time, and they wished Quinn would share their interest, at least a little, at least for once.

“Gabe Shaw, like the 3 time champi-”

“Two time, I recognized the name, he died before the last fight.”

The air tensed more.

Quinn was good at pushing things to their limit.

Even the air.

They hated it.

It was sicking.

They were sick of it.

Sick of Quinn.

“I think I'm going to take him up on it, he doesn't fight anymore, but from what I saw he’s good, just as good as his dad, and his fighters get pretty far. I could be a real fighter, I could learn real techniqu-”

“I already taught you real shit, and we already win.”

He moved fast and with anger.

Out of the bed he charged at them.

“Quin-”

“We already win. You're getting too cocky. Winning isn't about the fight itself, winning comes from the fuckers that bet, the poor drunk suckers we trick with the fights. That's how we win. You are no fighter, you know that. I’ve shown you that.”

He looked into their eyes, he didn't have to threaten them.

Not with details at least.

They knew it all too well.

That look in his eyes.

The tone in his voice.

It was all he had to do. 

And he knew it.

And he loved it.

He smiled, wicked and calm. Like this was normal, they supposed it was.

They didn't want it to be.

Not anymore. 

His hand reached for their forearm.

“Let us get to bed now precio-”

 They moved.

 Just slightly.

Just enough to avoid his touch.

"You don't want to do that, precious."

He was right.

They weren't ready.

They had to be ready.

They will be ready.

"I couldn't take it."

"What?"

The other fighter spoke, they weren't looking at you, their eyes on Quinn.

"Being with him. Dealing with him once a month is too much."

"Yeah. You're the first one to say that."

"Probably because the other fighters want to get in his pants. They just can't resist ‘The Viper’ "

They don't reply.

"Sorry, I thought you knew."

"I do, there's not much I can do."

"I think there is.”

"You don't understand"

"I do."

They look at the chunky heart-shaped ring on their finger.

"You can get out."

Those words drew them in.

Cautiously they expressed their interest.

"He's quite insecure, use it. Take away his control.”

There was a pause.

They looked around again.

Their eyes caught on Quinn.

A decision was being made behind those eyes.

When they made their decision it was clear.

They made eye contact.

Strong eye contact.

And continued.

“You'll have your moment. I promise. Take it or don’t, it’s up to you.”

They turn their back. 

" It's a little strange that you never win these staged fights. I think it's about damn time.”

"I hope everyone's bets are placed because the books are closed for Scraps vs Sweetheart!"

The announcer looks at Quinn, and with a quick nod, he starts again.

"Fighters ready?"

Sweetheart has an intense stare as they nod.

Scraps, on the other hand, doesn't hear the announcer the first time.

"Scraps? This fighter isn't even prepared, it's your fault if you took your chances on this underdog."

They snap back. 

"I'm ready."

And they were.

"Then…..FIGHT!"

The match starts, as planned. 

A couple hits, a swing of the legs and Scraps is knocked to the floor, as planned.

Sweetheart approached, to taunt, as rehearsed.

"Don't take this personally."

That's the only hit they give sweetheart.

Sweetheart's eyes glimmer as they smile.

"I won't. Take your moment."

Scraps grabs their neck, slamming their heads together before flipping them behind. Scraps moves fast as they get up. In the crowd, they see Quinn and his goons moving to the ring. 

"Sorry, thank you."

"Don't be, go."

They climb the makeshift fence and run. A huge smile stains their face as they leave the building, rain washes the sweat off their face. They keep running. Not running away from Quinn but towards freedom,  towards their future.

They took a deep breath before they opened the gym doors.

It’s bigger than they'd expected.

They'd never been in a professional gym like this. 

There were multiple rings, real rings, not the homemade stuff they were used to.

There's no reception desk like a public gym, but luckily David Shaw was the first person they spotted.

He was in a ring with someone.

They walk towards the ring, they can feel the other fighters watching them.

They get to the ring David is in.

Neither he nor the other fight realizes it.

"David?"

The two whip their head to you.

"Get out."

He was calm but still seemed angry.

"I'm Scraps, from the-"

"I know who you are. Now get out!"

They climb out of the ring, and begin their walk to the door, feeling defeated and quite offended they, whisper to themselves.

"Well fuck you mister big shot ."

"I'm not a big shot."

David says from behind. 

Scraps freezes up.

"When I said get out I meant the rink."

They stay still.

"Will you turn around?"

David didn't hold back his frustration.

Scraps feels it'd be best to turn around.

"Sorry."

"You shouldn't enter a ring without permission, not here."

"Sorry, I've never been somewhere this professional."

"You don't mean that."

"What?"

"Those sorries. That is not how you feel."

"I am sorry. And how exactly would you know how I feel? You just met me."

David's eyebrows raise as his eyes keep a dull annoyed look.

“To quote you ‘Well fuck you mister big shot’, that's how you feel, Don't act differently,  it pisses me off. I hate suck-ups."

Scraps believes him.

"Well, I'm not sorry, only because you don't have to be an ass, you said you recognize me, then you should of figured I wouldn't know these rules."

"I was an ass so I could protect you, get used to it."

Scraps smiles.

David rolled his eyes.

"It’s been about a year."

"Does the offer still stand?"

"Yes."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Nothing."

Silence rests between them.

Scraps isn't patient enough to let it continue. 

"So can I start today?"

"We can't just take you in at the last moment, the trainers have others to train.”

"I don't." 

A curly-haired blonde yells across the room, near a punching bag, and starts rushing toward the two.

"I'll do it." 

David takes a breath so deep it is visible from his chest. Before he let out a sigh.

"No."

"Oh come on David, I'm a great trainer."

"Asher, I know that, but I said no. You are not the right fit. "

"Ohhh you want to train them."

Asher starts walking towards Scraps.

"Lucky bastard."

He whispers, without maliciousness.

"So what do we call you?"

"Well, I've gone by Scraps for a while."

"Scraps? Really?"

He looks them up and down.

"That won't work"

"He's right, I'm not calling you that."

David seconded Asher.

"Well, I don't really have any other ideas."

"Tank!"

Another voice echoes throughout the gym. 

Scraps wasn't expecting to recognize anyone other than David, but rushing towards the group was the boxer who gave them the nudge they needed.

Behind said fighter was a guy, seemingly trying to stop the other from coming over. He was failing.

"That would be Sweetheart,  they're our newest addition."

Asher kindly tried to keep Scraps updated through all the chaos.

"They know who I am Ash, at least I hope they do, with the concussion they gave me. You've got one thick skull."

Slightly overwhelmed by all the attention,  Scraps freezes and doesn't answer.

"But listen, Tank, it's perfect,  there like a machine. They gave me a concussion for God's sake, and then, after slamming our heads together,  which had to have hurt them too, they flipped me. That mother fucker acted like I weighed nothing. They're a fucking tank."

"How many times have I told you to watch your language."

David made a sound comparable to a growl.

Sweetheart rolled their eyes, then looked over to Scraps, to engage them.

"He's not a fan of my filthy mouth."

"I sure am."

"Milo"

David sounded like he wanted to strangle Milo.

Yet, to Scraps surprise no one was scared.

The group just laughed it off.

It was strange to Scraps.

"Ohhh my god!"

Asher shot his hands out to get everyone's attention.

"If you go by Scraps now, and we change it to Tank it's like, like you're being rebuilt, becoming stronger. Which is fucking sick."

David shakes his head at the profanity. Before turning to Scraps.

"It's up to you, it's your name. You don't have to choose now. "

"I like it. I mean, I love it."

That's all they said, they wanted to say more but didn't want to overshare about their life after five minutes of meeting these people.

"I am a tank. So I'll be Tank."

If you'd rather not be tagged let me know and I'll respect your wishes.

@dominimoonbeam @romirola @ejunkiet

[rigelmejo]

More progress updates, because I'm having fun!

Glossika japanese: did 1248 sentences, 10,055 reps so far, it says I'm High A1 20.4%. I believe that based on the sentence quality I am getting, they are A1 sentences vocabulary wise. The grammar includes various higher level stuff, but the vocabulary is fairly basic and mostly review of stuff I've learned before and just forgotten or gotten rusty with). Glossika has articles that claim a good first goal is 25,000 sentence repetitions for a noticeable improvement in speaking. So i'll give a little review on progress compared to glossika's claim, when I get to 25,000 reps. Their articles also indicate the eventual goal is to do 100,000 reps in glossika for speaking fluency (i'd argue i'll probably have B1 speaking skills at best by then, but glossika's app claims B2 or C1 so i'm going to score them a bit harshly regardless). I dont think it will be especially hard to do 100,000 reps, as Ive done 10k from around 1000 sentences, and the app has 6500+ sentences, so just going through all sentences ill be around 65,000 reps and then its just a few weeks of reviews.

Reading 默读 by priest: I've read 3 chapters now. Both extensively (not looking up words) and intensively (looking up every word I don't fully know/remember the definition of or pronunciation of). My conclusion is that I am comprehending about 86% percent (like yesterday's calculation) CLEARLY and then another 10% I can guess roughly what's going on and be close enough to use those guesses to learn, or I can guess based on the plot I remember. With that much at least roughly comprehended, it makes reading 默读 extensively doable if I want to do it. I recognize most the hanzi, so when I slow down and read very slowly, I understand closer to 90% of the words (just having forgotten pronunciation), and then using context guess the few unknown hanzi and the words they make, so there's not a huge hit in story understanding. If I read fast, reading along with audio as it plays, I make vaguer guesses about what descriptions mean that use hanzi I know/one I dont in ways I'm unfamiliar with. So far my guesses have been rough, but generally in the ballpark, so I've been able to keep reading without pausing to look stuff up if I choose to.

I am thinking of doing an experiment with 默读. I will read it while listening, because that forces me to practice reading at a faster pace (speaking speed). I will only look words up if I feel like it (so not all the time, probably only occasionally). And I will note if in 20 chapters, 40 chapters etc, I am noticing if I have "learned" significantly more words, noticing if I've gotten better at comprehending words I know quicker while following along to spoken speed (so clearer understanding). The idea of reading comprehensible material to you (say 95% words you know or more), is in theory you pick up more vocabulary through context, and improve reading skills, over the course of reading. Growing up, literature classes and reading assignments basically give you mostly comphrehensible materials to read and that's a major way your vocabulary and reading skills build in your native language. Yes, some classes make you look up vocabulary for a particular literature book assigned (or defined terms in a science textbook). But the vast majority of free reading time is: pick a book for your age level, teacher encourages something slightly challenging but comprehensible. I have read simpler chinese novels extensively, and made progress. But 默读 would probably be the highest unique-vocab book I'd try it with. The upside is? I could potentially learn more new vocabulary from this book. And then in the future it will make reading other stuff easier. So yeah, I'll update on progress later.

Read chapter 3 of 默读. Listened to modu audiobook chapters 1-3. I noticed my listening skills just... fucking suck lol. I can read so much better than I can listen. I was getfing through the audiobook based on phrases I recognized and the dialogues, despite being able to READ those chapters... listening to them I just couldnt recognize as many words. I will also be extensively listening to the audiobook, as see how much sheer Volume of audio listened to helps me improve. I guess on the upside: i used to not comprehend the audiobook much, so this does feel essier, even if its still miles away from full comprehension.

Other things of note:

i find it funny that after a week of getting back into things, im quietly saying the hanzi as i read again. Apparently pronunciatioj WAS locked in my read somewhere, it was just rustier than visual recognition.

I may watch Absolute BL/zettai bl season 3 in japanese. Since its out?!! It exists!!! Which is news to me. It isnt fully translated yet. However, my japanese sucks so i might fail miserably. I Cannot Reach You On Netflix would be another choice (wirh japanese subs available and english). But i miss Mobu. ToT

Its shockingly weird how much reading skill works? Like... it rusts and you "forget" but then if you use it, it always comes back within a week or two. Thats what happens with reading french for me, and apparently with chinese too. I havent read in 6 months ish. Last week I tried to read SCI, i was fucking terrible. Confused as hell, even though it should be easier than modu. Well this week I'm reading modu, which has more unique words in it, and it feels fine and doable and fairly okay to understand. And to be fair, part of that is I just am much more comfortable parsing priest's writing style. So I go back to try reading SCI again today. Well? Easy. What the fuck. It was barely parseable last week. Now I can read: 办公室的门在受到撞击前的一刹那打开了，两人刹车不及，直接摔了进去，双双落地，正中地板。就听楼下有人隔着窗户朝上大喊：“你们刑警队的就不能消停一天？再这样下去，哪天真的地震了，整个楼里的人都不知道跑啦……” 张龙和王朝从地板上爬起来，就见白玉堂手上端着杯咖啡，靠在办公桌边似笑非笑地看着他俩���just fine. It's easy. Okay then.

Oh and also. Tao rans name? 陶然 the fact its the same ran as huran/turan/mengran so many "suddenly" words that come up at the beginning of a sentence, and tao ran's name Also comes up at the beginning of sentences, keeps throwing me off when I listen.

[sappygentlemen]

THIS IS AN YANDERE OC X YANDERE OC FANFIC🧍‼️ BECAUSE I SAID SO

If anyone stumbles opon this and wants y/n content.. just wait bro ☝️‼️ gimme some time to cook some up

TW: DARK, GORE DESCRIPTIONS, TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS/ATTACHMENTS/BEHAVIORS. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION ☝️‼️

Basement dweller

...it's been so long since Ive seen Declan. I miss him dearly. I miss everything about him I've been trapped in this damp, moldy basement for longer then I could bother to count. It's been longer then a few days at least. My stomach has been empty for so long that I'm sure it's given up growling for food. I've also been without water, which isn't helping this awful migraine I've had. The hunger, dehydration, paired with the injuries I've sustained are becoming almost too much, but I would bear anything for him.. my beloved... He didn't mean to hurt me, and even if her did. I deserved it. It was all my fault. I got too lazy.. too comfortable around him. He found my hit list... I didn't mean for him too, and I knew the punishment I'd receive if he did. The bruises and cuts were never forgettable, stinging anytime I dared to slip into my old bad behaviors. Declan was so sweet.. always trying to help me improve.. to be better.. to be softer. I wanted so desperately to change for him, and I'd promised this would be my last time in the basement. My last mistake. Id be the perfect husband.

Declan was always gentle.. so soft and sweet, even when he was mad, bruising my skin with his grasp, throwing me down into the dark concrete basement, injuring my ankle and my knees. He didn't mean too. I could make this punishment stop if I told him every injury I'd sustained with his rough touch. However, I want to be good for him. I want to be perfect. I want to take it without complaint, because after all? Any attention he gives me, is precious. I should cherish all of it. Id be lucky if he even spit in my direction.

The door to his hellhole opens, and for the first time in god knows how long, light shines down here, overwhelming my vision for a moment, but I hold back the urge to look away, hopeful that the person behind the door is Declan. After a few moments, my eyes adjust to the light, and Declans face comes into view, a pout evident on his face at my state. I scrambled up to cling to him, as I always do after my punishment time. I hated being in the basement, I hated anytime without my beloved, but I know he does what's best for me, so I take it like a champ, like he wants me too. Though, this is the longest I've ever spent down here. However, as I clung to his soft, warm, comforting body, hearing his heartbeat for the first time in however long I was down here, my body relaxed slightly. I felt comforted, and a safe, as he leaned down, and lifted me up from just below my butt, allowing me to wrap around him and bury my face in his shoulder as he cooed and awed at me. As he held me up, he walked my very weak, tired and injured body towards the living room, and even though his rough hands touched my tender bruises repeatedly, I didn't move away from him, clingy and desperate for his touch.

"Sam.. you should've yelled for me when you got these bruises... You know I didn't mean to shove you that hard, I just want you to know that what you did wasn't okay..."

"I know.... I'm sorry.. I just wanted you to be happy, so I wanted to take the punishment!... Did it.. Make you happy?"

He was silent. Giving me a look of pity as he set me down on the couch, as he knelt down to try and take a look at all my injuries. I loved when he looked at me with pity, it made me feel special, like he cared for me. As he walked around, grabbing bandages, I clung to him still, never letting go of his sleeve as I mindlessly followed him around. He's so good to me. I know I deserved my punishment. I must have. Even if I didn't, I'm willing to take any kind of attention, as long as it comes from him.

After a while, he finally takes care of my wounds, giving them gentle caresses as he takes care of me. I love when he takes care of me, it makes everything feel better. However.... I can't help but notice the light brown hair on his black work shirt... My hair is red.. his hair is dark brown almost black.. and so is his brothers.

I guess I'll be making a return to the basement. Very. Very. Soon

[grasscore]

more bummer ramblings below

literally just sitting here crying my eyes out reading people's posts on the bipolar subreddit and like i dont know what to do with any of that.

i've been really scared that what i've been dealing with is addiction, because it felt like adhd impulsivity + stimulation craving but on steroids, like boosted to 100,000%

but idk the more i think about it all, it might be hypo/mania. like im basically nearing about 3 months of constantly just making connections between things in my head, sleeping for only a few hours a night, literally not doing my job, feeling extremely social but only online and completely neglecting irl relationships and responsibilities, not eating or drinking water, etc..

and some of it has been really good! like i have created some art and actually finished some shit for once whereas i usually just get really hype and start a project but never finish. so im happy about that, and i think its ok that i'm like.. trying to be more 'social' online because i work from home and because of covid don't have a ton of irl options for 'public' life. in ways it feels like an improvement to me where before i felt like absolutely 0 motivation at all, just sitting on tiktok for literally 6-10 hours per day (i basically havent even opened the app in like 2 months which felt like an improvement, but im now working WAY less even than when i was in that phase).. but the fact that this 'creative productivity and sociable/positive mood' is paired with me basically not doing my job AT ALL + not sleeping or eating, etc.. ive been feeling a little better in the past couple weeks because i thought like..maybe i have an 'addiction' or at the very least a destructive pattern so i thought the solution could be.. being mega aware of my actions at all times, meticulously tracking every hour of my day and recording what i do and making plans for every chunk of the day..which hasnt been hurting, it's helped me remember the really basic things, keeping my priorities 'straight' in theory. but every second of the day is this really uncomfortable restlessness and if i dont put my energy into a project or something that i'm excited about i feel like im crawling out of my skin.. ive been smoking like crazy. and now that ive finished my project i feel like im itching inside my skin lmao

idk especially reading people's posts on the reddit about how it's showed up throughout their life.. im just thinking about the year where i was 100% convinced that i was like.. in a simulation / samsara and that a meteor was coming.. and that i was getting visions of future iterations of the simulations thru my dreams. but i never told anyone about it because i was like,.. oh i dont actually believe these things, even though i'm terrified out of my mind thinking about them because they feel so real and if i see anything online that is slightly related to 'the simulation' or a meteor hitting earth i would spiral with paranoia and anxiety.

like i just feel like im screaming into the void in all my relationships trying to explain how out of control and scared i feel.. but everyone has just been like 'hey, it's alright, you seem fine to me, your standards for yourself are too high' and im like ok tell that to the fact i've worked maybe 5 hours a week every week for the last 3 months. like ive spent the last month pretty much terrified that im just going to keep making bad/impulsive decisions until i'm fired and/or dead

[spinningbuster98]

Super Castlevania IV Part 2: Is this really a remake?

I think everyone knows that, despite its title, Super Castlevania IV is not an actual sequel but rather a remake of the original Castlevania on NES.

In fact in Japan this game is simply known as Akumajou Dracula, the same title as that game in Japan. The 4 here was most likely added by Konami of America in order to sell this as a sequel to the NES trilogy in hopes of boosting sales.

But honestly: would you really have guessed that this was a remake without knowing about this info beforehand?

What does this game have in common with the original really? There’s Simon yeah sure. But he’s been given a slight redesign, now with a more greenish looking armor and brown hair. They could have named him like Jack Belmont or something and this would no longer be a remake because really the name Simon is the only thing truly tying this game to the NES original

We have completely new levels, not just these first few located outside the castle, even once you’re inside the levels are just completely different both in theme and structure

The bosses are mostly original

Even the music is about 97% new stuff, Vampire Killer is the only track returning from the original and it only plays during the first half of the final stage!

I find this aspect of the game interesting because nowadays we live in an age where videogame remakes are a dime a dozen and they very often are radically different from the originals, mainly because they serve as excuses from big companies to make a new game without having to make everything from scratch while also cashing in on the original games’ popularity, just look at all the Resident Evil Remakes!

And for as beloved as Super Castlevania IV is...it’s really no different in its approach. You can’t say it’s paying respect to the original when there’s barely any sign of it in the first place!

Really the only reason why I think people don’t make a fuss over this is because:

1) The original had pretty much no in-game story so this version runs no risk of pissing anyone off from that POV

2) It came out during a period where videogame remakes were a much rarer phenomenon so people don’t really view it in the same vein

3) It was a lot of people’s first Castlevania game or at least they grew up with it

In fact you could even argue that it’s not very faithful to the classic formula even from a gameplay perspective: after all this game completely alters the classic controls.

Now sue I know that everyone loves the multiple whip attacks and the controllable jumps...but it baffles me that everyone would consider it an undisputed improvement, implying that the previous controls were inherently broken.

Classicvania controls were designed to be like this in tandem with the level design. You could even argue that having to master these limited controls is a big part of the series’ identity at this point and I’m sure this is what the developers at the time thought too because no other game in the series will replicate IV’s controls: Rondo and Bloodlines at most give you some very limited directional whipping and the ability to stir your jumps only slightly along with the ability to jump on and off stairs, but never the complete package

By giving the player so much more control over the character you essentially take away not only a big chunck of the challenge but also some of the gameplay depth: where once you’d have to carefully maneuver around enemies in order to win now it’s usually just a metter of whipping them from whatever angle you are. Plus there’s also the fact that the crucifix subweapon has been made disgustingly broken: wanna win in Super Castlevania IV? Find the crucifix and then find the double and triple shot power ups. Congratulations now nothing save from instakill obstacles will stop you as these things absolutely melt enemies and even bosses!

Now personally I don’t really mind this too much because there’s still usually a certain degree of precision that you have to put into your whipping even with the multidirectional attacks and the platforming can still get tricky on the occasion, so i do still believe that the overall spirit of the classic is preserved here but in a new form

But it’s important to consider that it is indeed a new form, not simply some sort of natural evolution that is guaranteed to be faithful to the original. It is perfectly valid to be unhappy with how this game changes up the classic formula and it’s the main reason why I personally wouldn’t call this “the definitive version of Castlevania 1″, even though I still really like it, certainly more than the original

[anxiousgaypanicking]

Dirty Talk

!a series of me uploading the kinktober fics/drabbles i made years ago because i didnt back in 2020 for some fuckin reason. if these are bad/poor quality its because theyre old, and ive improved since then :)!

Roceit (Roman x Janus) Day 29: dirty talk Warnings: degradation, blowjobs, leg humping

"How long will the others be out?" Roman asks, eyes turned towards the front door. Outside, rain poured, and every once in a while lightning struck, momentarily illuminating the otherwise dark living room.

The television was on, playing a movie that Roman had seen many times before, but it hardly provided much light during the current scene - one more dark and gritty. Roman craved the return of the sweet scenes with colour and light, so he'd suffer through the dark with a pout until they came on again.

Janus was curled up on the other side of the couch, a blanket draped over his lap, and a book in hand. Roman recognized it as one of Logan's books, identified easily by the sticky notes peaking out from between pages, no doubt covered in small lettering identifying parts of the book that Logan deemed interesting or noteworthy. Leaning forward slightly, Roman attempted to catch a glimpse of the title, but he couldn't manage.

"All Patton said was that they'd be back tonight," Janus responds, voice smooth as he flips a page. "Judging by how bad the storm has gotten, they might not even decide to do that. Virgil probably started freaking out the moment lightning struck."

"Do you think they're going to get a hotel?"

Janus sighs, as he closes the book over his thumbs, preserving his spot. "I don't know, Roman."

"Do you think we should call them and-"

Before Roman has the opportunity to finish his question, Janus shifts his position on the couch and kicks Roman's leg, Roman dramatically curling up into a ball and saying "ow! Meanie!" He's pouting, as he rubs the spot on his leg Janus had kicked, but Janus just rolls his eyes and sets the book on the coffee table, turning back to Roman entirely.

"Can you hush?" Janus states, as he stretches. After sitting idle for a long period of time, his body ached. "The others are probably fine. Pay attention to your movie or something; quit worrying about them." Upon seeing Roman's pout, Janus specifies "or at least quit vocalizing your worry. It's frankly quite annoying."

Roman whines out a protest, before he dramatically slumps over onto Janus's legs entirely. "But the movie is boring right now," he says, bottom lip jutted out in a point. "And I'm bored!"

Usually one of the others is able to distract him or entertain him for quite a bit of time, and even when they aren't around Roman can usually get wrapped up in his work to the point where he leaves Janus alone.

But, it seems that his wish for peace and quiet wouldn't be granted, as Roman whines and complains about a lack of stimuli while lightly pounding on Janus's legs similarly to the way a child would throw a tantrum.

"Pity," Janus hisses, as he kicks Roman away from his legs, before curling back up into a ball. His blanket had been discarded due to the movement, but before he could reach for it and toss it back over his lap, Roman crawls over the couch and fully rests his upper half on Janus's lap.

Janus never understood why Roman was so affectionate, even while complaining and pouting, and he didn't exactly know how to react. Pushing him off again would only result in Roman crawling back, despite the fact Janus didn't care that he was bored, and could honestly do without all the touching.

"Janus!" Roman whines, before he rubs his head against Janus's stomach, nuzzling him close in an attempt to cuddle him. Janus can't deny that he's very much enjoying the pure heat radiating of of the other, but he still let out an annoyed scowl as Roman then pleads "please, entertain me?"

With a scoff, Janus combs his hands through his own hair, clearly annoyed. However, knowing that Roman wouldn't quit bothering until he did, Janus sits up fully, stretching in an attempt to soothe the ache in his body from sitting still for so long.

Roman, sensing he'd convinced him, sits up fully too, excited by whatever idea Janus had or will come up with.

"What's your colour?" Janus asks, as he brushes off his lap, making it seem like Roman had some sort of disease that made Janus want to wipe away any potential germs. Roman flushes at his words, though, and ends up shyly looking away.

"Oh- oh. I didn't realize you'd want to do something so... so..." Roman stammers over his thoughts, clearly unsure of how to process the fact Janus wanted to do something sexual. "Well, to be frank, I didn't realize you wanted to have sex." His voice turns into a whisper as he nears the end of his sentence, clearly flustered by Janus's implications, but it just makes Janus roll his eyes.

"I take it that's a 'no,' then?" Janus asks, as he reaches for his book, although Roman immediately exclaims "no! I mean, no, that's not a no. Let me start over!"

He draws in a deep breath, desperately trying to will away the blush on his face, while also trying to sort out his thoughts, before he says "my colour is green. I just was caught off guard. Having sex is not what I expected to do tonight."

"And it's not what we'll do tonight," Janus replies, rolling his eyes yet again. "I'm not really in the mood to fuck you senseless." Roman's face turns a darker shade of red at Janus's bluntness, and he's convinced Janus phrased it that way on purpose judging by the way his lips quirked up in a smirk.

Roman scoots ever closer, staying cautious in case Janus decides to fluster him further, but Janus finally lets himself grin.

"I was thinking, how about you suck me off and shut up for a bit, and maybe, if I'm feeling up for it, I'll even let you come." Janus speaks smoothly, with confidence and smugness dripping from his words, and he pushes himself forward so that he's on his knees, face to face with Roman fully. He drags a finger under Roman's chin, and Roman leans forward, as if following it, eyes staring intensely into Janus's, much to Janus's delight.

Before Roman can even process what's happening, he's is sliding onto the floor, seemingly pleased with Janus's idea. He's nodding, still flustered, as he rambles "yeah- okay. Okay, that seems fun." It did seem fun. It wasn't what Roman was expecting by any means, but he asked for something to entertain him, and Janus was sweet enough to deliver.

Janus guides Roman to kneel between his legs, as he gracefully unbuttons his pants and tugs his boxers down just enough to pull out his cock.

He gives it a few strokes in order to work it to full hardness, and when he notices Roman staring, the words "what, see something you like, slut?" slip out of his mouth, sounding just as casual as if Janus was asking any other normal question.

And Roman's face is burning, as he swallows the spit in his mouth. That doesn't seem to satisfy Janus though, as his smirk falls into a slight frown. "I asked you a question, whore. Answer me," he grits out, moments later, and Roman shakes his head slightly, as if snapping himself out of his thoughts.

"Sorry," he apologizes, eyes glancing up at Janus who's looking down at him with intense eyes. Roman looks away, gulping, before he ends up looking back at Janus's cock. "Yeah- yeah I do. I like your cock," he answers, voice quiet and shy; a stark contrast to how loud and boastful Roman normally is. Admittedly, Janus likes how shy and easily embarrassed Roman is when it came to sex. It was different, and honestly quite cute.

"Good boy," Janus purrs, and Roman can't help the shiver of pleasure that courses through his body at the words.

He leans closer, and the tip of Janus's cock traces over his lips, and Roman's quick to open his mouth for it. Janus's cock slides into his mouth, and Roman has to resist moaning as the weight settles on his tongue.

Janus's fingers comb gently through his hair, although his words are a rough contrast, as he groans out "fuck, Roman. I like you so much better with your lips around my cock, like the good little slut you are."

Roman moans around Janus's length, before he takes more of it in, tonguing and sucking around the tip. It really is a mindless task, and it occupies Roman's mouth and gives his tongue something to do. His constant chattering and chewing on pen caps could have easily been replaced by sucking Janus off this entire time.

Maybe he'd ask to do this more often.

Stealing a glance up at Janus's face, Roman can see that Janus is relaxed against the couch, eyes gently closed and quiet moans slipping past his lips as Roman continues to lick and suck at his cock.

Roman takes it as his own pace, swallowing around the length as he leans in closer to take in more. The tip of Janus's cock rubs against the back of his throat, and as he gags, he leans back slightly. With just the tip in his mouth again, Roman's tongue runs over the slit, and Janus's fingers tighten in his hair, before Roman's head is moving back down.

He's taken up a slow pace, but he's focused on pleasuring Janus, and really focusing on the way Janus's cock felt in his mouth.

It's all he could really think about; the taste of precum dripping down his throat makes him moan, and he's quick to swallow what he can and suck eagerly in hopes more will be produced. As he takes in more of Janus's cock, he hums, trying hard not to gag this time. He wants to take it all, and as his nose presses against Janus's pelvic region, Roman can't help but moaning again.

Admittedly, he's hard just from sucking Janus off. His quiet moans are like music to Roman's ears, and he tries to discretely roll his hips against the carpet in hopes of relieving some of uncomfortable ache in his pants. His hands itched to undo his pants and stroke himself, but instead they settled on Janus's thighs, squeezing gently at the skin as he slowly bobs his head on Janus's cock.

It's relaxed, and compared to how rough Roman knew Janus could get, it was a nice change of pace. He was given full control, and was tasked with pleasuring Janus, and he was trying his hardest to do a good job.

"Good boy- my good little whore," Janus breathes, voice smooth and sweet, and Roman's closes his own eyes at the words, taking in the feeling of Janus's cock dragging across his tongue, the hand petting his head like he's a beloved pet, and Janus's words filling his ears. All the senses please him more, and he speeds up his bobbing slightly.

His hands tighten on Janus's legs as Janus moans out "fuck, Roman, I'm close."

It makes Roman shiver with delight, as he focuses primarily on driving Janus to come. His tongue laps over the slit, as he hums every time he fully deepthroats Janus's shaft. One of his hands fall from Janus's thigh, and instead moves to his balls, lightly squeezing and fondling them in an attempt to give Janus added pleasure.

With a light tug to his hair, and a groan of Roman's name, Janus suddenly comes in Roman's mouth. Roman chokes as he pulls back slightly, swallowing what he can in hopes nothing spills out and stains the carpet.

He wipes the remainder off his chin, before looking up at Janus with needy eyes. "Janus- Janus please get me off. I need to come so bad," he pleads, still pathetically humping the ground. Janus stares down at him, as if internally debating whether or not he'll let Roman come today.

With a sigh, though, Janus shifts his position slightly. He takes the time to tuck his cock back into his pants, before he moves one of his legs to rest between Roman's thighs.

"You can hump against my leg," Janus says, as if that's a privilege. "If you don't want to, then you won't be getting off at all tonight."

It was either humiliate himself or be stuck painfully hard and desperate until his boner sadly went away. Weighing both options, Roman found he'd much rather come that have to hold back entirely, so he leans against Janus's leg, face bright red as he very shyly grinds against Janus's shin.

"Ah-ah," Janus tuts, raising an eyebrow as Roman looks up at him. "Be polite, Roman. What do you say?"

Roman doubts his face can get anymore red than it is currently, and he stammers over his word as he looks away from Janus's face, overly flustered. Despite his embarrassment, he still utters "thank you, Janus," which earns Janus combing through his hair and responding with "good boy, Roman."

He keeps his head down and tucked into Janus's leg, whining softly as he gets slightly more confident with his grinding. He's rolling his hips repeatedly against Janus's leg, humping against him like a mutt in heat, and Janus compares him to such too.

"You're loving this, aren't you?" he asks, although it's a rhetorical question. He doesn't expect Roman to answer, and he doesn't want him to either. "Grinding against me like a fucking dog. A stupid bitch. That's what you are; a fucking mutt."

Roman moans at his words, cock leaking in his pants, and he knows he won't last much longer. He's babbling out a mixture of Janus's name and incoherent noises, needing to do something with his mouth now that it's unoccupied again.

"Janus- Janus please," he begs, not exactly knowing what he's begging for. For a less humiliating way to get off, perhaps? Although it doesn't seem like Janus has changed his mind on that, as he starts moving his leg up in an attempt to match Roman's grinds down.

In doing so, Roman's head falls back in a pleased moan, as he grips tighter to Janus's leg. "Please!" he cries, face flushed and hair disheveled from Janus's hand constantly running through his locks, and as Janus admires his pathetic face, he notices that Roman's even drooling.

"Are you close, Roman?" Janus asks, and Roman can really only whine and nod as his forehead rests against Janus's legs. It makes Janus grin just seeing the way Roman's body trembled slightly. So overwhelmed from so little stimuli.

Smiling softly, Janus then purrs "come for me then, slut. Make a mess of your pants like the dirty whore you are."

And, well, Roman can't really disobey. Grinding a bit more against Janus's leg pushes him completely over the edge, and his head lolls back as he lets out a high whine and comes in his pants. He humps against Janus as he rides out his orgasm, before he slumps over completely, breathing heavily.

"Alright, Roman," Janus says, after a moment, causing Roman to look up at him, still breathing heavily. Janus holds his arms out as he moves his leg back, and Roman looks at him confused.

"Come cuddle," Janus then clarifies, rolling is eyes, although it sounds more like an order. It's a demand that Roman is happy to follow. Although somewhat uncomfortable feeling the dampness in his pants, he doesn't hesitate crawling onto the couch with Janus, and nuzzling up against his chest.

After all, they had all the time in the world to cuddle. The rest of the night, anyway, and they could probably manage to shower before the others got home. Hopefully, at least.

[dasha-aibo]

Idk if this is anything but because i'm stuck in a job that sucks all physical and mental energy out of me, i had big hangups with trying to exercise more, until i remembered that you did a lot of walking for weight loss a couple years back at least. So I just try going on the treadmill at work during my breaks instead of going into a bathroom and taking a nap because i feel exhausted all the time. I finally bit the bullet and decided to eat healthier too, at least for me personally (i have low gluten tolerance so i had to cut out a lot of bread and pasta which was difficult around my family and based on what is served at the cafeteria). I haven't started long ago, barely last week, i think ive lost 3 kg. I just want you to know that your blogging did help me finally at least get some sort of breakthrough to become healthier. I was stuck in a rut since i was a teen. I feel slightly less exhausted. I want to continue to improve. Thank you, Dasha. I really mean it

I'm glad I was able to help!