#bc I sure still wanna write stories about them

[rei0d]

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Better Call Saul (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Eduardo "Lalo" Salamanca/Ignacio "Nacho" Varga Characters: Eduardo "Lalo" Salamanca, Ignacio "Nacho" Varga Additional Tags: Angst, Angst and Feels, Violent Thoughts, Dom/sub Undertones, Dirty Talk, Emotional Roller Coaster, the sex is consensual, the murder attempt isn't, Explicit Sexual Content, Canon Universe, Established Relationship Summary:

Nacho had been allowed in Lalo’s sanctuary, far from Albuquerque, and it meant one thing; today was the day. The last day of Lalo Salamanca’s life — or his own.

A Lacho one shot following canon, except Fring ordered Nacho to kill Lalo himself at his hacienda. When and how would you kill a monster that never sleeps? While you're having sex with him, of course.

[causticsunshine]

fully back in another ‘consuming animated media and intaking irl people content not pertaining to one direction’ era and gawd it feels so good

[torawro]

WHEN BLADES CLASH, SO DO HEARTS. ( r. z. )

roronoa zoro & bounty hunter!reader.

cw ━━ ! minors, ageless and blank blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is portrayed as a black woman who is on the thicker / curvier side but you do not have to imagine it that way ! you are free to imagine the reader how you wish. canon divergent au (lowkey implied post-timeskip -> zoro is still a bounty hunter and never became a pirate). bc it's canon divergent, zoro will have both eyes (i know, i know). mentions and descriptions of alcohol consumption. canon-typical violence (i.e., mentions of weapons). light(ish) descriptions of blood & injuries. so much [sexual] tension between reader and zoro that it's palpable. contains sexually explicit content including smut (descriptions of it from an omniscient pov). gets kinda poetic at the end but y’all already knew that was coming. somewhat proofread.

word count ━━ ! 4.8k

notes ━━ ! my first published one piece fic on my blog . . . you'd think the first one would be about law since my current theme revolves around him but alas, this swordsman was prominent in my mind…i did lose motivation at some point but i still pushed through. this fic was originally something i drafted up to serve as the prologue for a much longer fic i'm writing (no hints, sorry < 3). and i thought writing this purely for contextual purposes would help with that longer story, but in the process it just turned into something else all on its own skskkskks so this is a modified version of that blurb. obvs this is also my first time officially writing for zoro so i’m a little nervous and to be honest, i’m not sure if i even like how this turned out…..regardless, i hope i portrayed him well enough (pls be gentle with me) >< also wanna dedicate this fic to naj, a mutual of mine who became a friend, but unfortunately deactivated her blog some time ago. she's been helping me with this drabble and the longer story i plan to write and i really appreciate her. reblogs + commentary are GREATLY appreciated ♡!!!

SHAKING OFF THE GRAVELLY SAND that haphazardly clung to the fabric of your pants, with little effort and practiced precision, you swiftly returned a large metal rod back into a black carrying bag before swinging the straps over your right shoulder. Rolling your arms to relieve some of the tension that resided in them proved to be a little painful, leading you to conclude that you most likely pulled a muscle somewhere when fighting the unknown men who had just attacked you. 

Said men were now lying unconscious on the ground, hardly breathing and within an inch of their lives. 

You didn’t kill them ━no, of course not ━ that would be a fruitless endeavor. Besides, you were well aware that your energy would be well-spent elsewhere, like searching for the next poor soul that had a bounty looming over their head. You were like a hunting dog, the scent of your next target set in front of you by the wanted posters littered around in each city or island you traveled to. Much like how the grim reaper awaited in the shadow of someone who stood inches away from the gates of death, you too would bide your time until the right moment to strike.

You took pride in the fact that the glint of your weapon would be the last thing that reflected in the eyes of your target.

The end result of your fight, if you could even call it that, was as chilling as the evening breeze that was brought forth by the wading waves of the ocean. You have made your mark on the flesh of these men, reopening some old wounds and creating new ones that would certainly scar forever. On levels of the skin and of the spirit.

With a heavy sigh, you adjusted your bag again as you walked towards the cluster of little lights nestled beyond the trees, within them existed this main island’s largest town. Your facial muscles didn’t so much as twitch as the pointed heel of your boots dug into the skin of your unconscious assailants— thinking nothing of their drowsy, muffled grunts of pain or the stark contrast between stepping over doughy bodies versus stepping on the hard earth.

The waxing crescent moon only slightly illuminated the dirt road as you made your way to the populated village, occasionally swatting away a fly or two. Soon enough, the mouth of the semi-dense woods opened up to reveal a wide gravel road. Across the opening was a bridge that stood over a flowing stream, and beyond that was the town. It was a cluster of buildings of varying heights lined up neatly street by street.

Lamps hung on every corner, street pole and ledge that would allow it, bathing all that rested under them in a pale yellow glow. It was quite pretty at night if you were being honest; and judging by its looks and atmosphere, you were sure that they’d have a nice inn around somewhere.

But first, a drink. And some food, you added as an afterthought, but mostly a drink. Your body could use a bit of external help to unwind after spending the last few days at sea.

It didn’t take you all that long to find out where the town’s bar was located, and you wasted no time ascending the steps that led to the double swinging doors. The clacking of your boots against the wooden floors upon entering the establishment were more or less drowned out by the chatter of the rugged-looking individuals who more or less made themselves at home.

And yet, despite the dozens of conversations that bounced off the walls of the tavern, the stares of everyone whose line of vision you crossed seemed to be louder. Much louder than any fit of raucous laughter or profane shout that surrounded you.

Your ears were even able to pluck out a few conversations. Hushed inquiries of familiarity, musings of what could possibly be in that bag dangling on your back, how the pants you wore emphasized the fat of your ass just right━ all things you let roll off your back and pretended not to hear. 

If it weren’t for your more reserved nature, you would have slashed that the throat of the man who made that salacious comment the moment it left his dried lips.

You took a random seat at the bar, not really paying attention to who sat on either side of you. Placing the cowboy-style hat you wore next to you and your belongings at your feet, you patiently awaited for the bartender to make her way down to where you sat. 

As you waited, you crossed your legs, one fleshy thigh over the other, absentmindedly twirling one of the bulky silver rings that encased your middle finger as you wondered what drink you were in the mood for today.

It wasn’t until several moments later, when your body and mind stilled enough, that you’d take notice.

Something felt . . . weird. ‘Off’ was probably a better word for the strange weight that suspended itself over your muscles. Whatever it was, whatever feeling or presence you sensed, it had your fingers twitching towards your bag laying idly against the table. And it only continued to linger in the air as the minutes dragged by.

The sound of the barkeep’s voice pulled you back into the plane of reality and away from the realm of your overactive mind. “What’ll ya be having tonight, honey?” She was an older woman, probably around the age of fifty but looked much younger, had deeply tanned skin, and peppered black and white hair that was pulled into a bun and rested at the base of her neck. 

“Hmmm . . . whatever your best cocktail is, I’ll just have that.” 

With a nod and an amused smile at you allowing her to have free reign, the barkeep turned around, set a shaker aside, and got to work preparing a drink of her choice to serve to you.

Then, something flashed in your peripheral vision.

It was so fleeting that you could have easily dismissed it as nothing had you not been on somewhat high alert already. It flickered in the reflection of the metal canisters that sat along the back wall of the bar. And whatever it was managed to startle you enough to jump start the pulse in your chest into a panicked overdrive so fierce that you heard it in your ears.

The frantic beating of your heart  never showed on your face, however━ your expression remained neutral. It needed to be for a woman in your line of work. Perhaps especially because you were a woman in your line of work.

Without any warning or indication, the cold sensation of polished steel licked and nipped at the warmth residing in your neck. The sharpened end of a blade rested on the jugular of your throat, pressed firmly enough that if you moved forward even a little bit, a stain from your blood would surely blossom on the katana.

“You…” a deep male voice spoke, sounding rough and rugged all around its edges. The rest of the pub seemed to fall silent at the man’s utterance of that one word, rather than his blatant display of threatening you with a sword. “Why are you here?”

Your eyes were the only thing that moved. Slowly, with a frosty gleam underlining your gaze, your eyes landed on the sword’s master, his name immediately flashing in your mind. His reputation as a bounty hunter sent a chill down the spines of both marines and pirates alike. Residents all over the four seas feared his name, and his name alone could cause people to question if the threads of their lives would be severed by the piercing edge of his sword.

“Roronoa Zoro….” Your tone was leveled and held an air of disinterest as you talked. You spoke as if you were tasting the very syllables of his name, taking the time to roll each combination of letters against your tongue. They tumbled from your lips with a smoothness you weren’t entirely opposed to━ it was almost pleasant, if you were being honest with yourself.

A practice you didn't normally engage in.

Upon identifying the swordsman aloud, a short wave of hushed gasps from the customers surrounding you filled the air. With speeds that almost seemed abnormal, the long metal pole resting in your black bag suddenly ended up in your grasp, one end of it hovering several inches away from Roronoa's neck; such speeds even caught the mint-haired swordsman off guard. “Getting a drink, of course. Isn’t it obvious?”

Before he could even part his lips to reply, the piercing shing! of steely iron being brandished cut through the thick tension that settled in between you. A long and heavily curved blade abruptly emerged from the blackened rod in your right hand, and oh so conveniently arced around Roronoa's neck, momentarily silencing him. 

The weapon you carried was a scythe, one with a retractable blade meant to disarm your opponent’s perception and therefore hinder their judgment. A scythe that was reminiscent of the tool Death used to carry out his grisly duties of executing souls and dragging them to hell.

In this position with the scythe’s blade practically wrapped around his throat, if need be you could swiftly behead him, or at least mutilate him; judging by how quickly he unsheathed his katana, his reflexes were pretty sharp. Still, the potential ease of killing Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro— in addition to the mild bewilderment reflecting in his eyes and the patrons’ silent gasps once they pieced together who you were— caused your lips to tick upwards, but your countenance remained otherwise stoic.

“And I’m assuming you’re here for the same reason. That, or you just couldn’t get enough of me during our last battle, and you tracked me down for more.”

Your previously dry tone had somehow morphed into one with an airy lilt, followed by a quiet chuckle that bubbled in your chest when you saw Roronoa's brows twitch and deepen with ire at your subtly teasing words.

You were referring to the last time you saw the swordsman on some obscure island that took root in the Grand Line; an island whose name currently escaped your memory. With you being a bounty hunter as well, your job was the only reason why your paths have crossed so often, and why you have come to know Roronoa on a more personal level such as this. Each time your gazes clashed, it would always result in an inevitable battle, which indirectly fanned the flames of an unspoken competition between the two of you.

If his current expression was anything to go by, this bar may very well be your next battlefield. “You lost that fight, remember?” He emphasized his point by digging the sharp edge of his blade a little further into your neck, the increased pressure causing your eyebrow to all but twitch, “Or did I hit you too hard last time we fought, and now you’re suffering from long-term memory loss?”

The edges of an insufferable smirk curled at Roronoa's lips— one that conveyed his confidence in his abilities and matched the glint in his eyes that began to grow hungry for a brawl. And now, the corners of your own lips broke into a small, amused smile— or perhaps it would be more accurately referred to as a sneer— and you responded by mirroring his earlier movements.

Pressing the sharp end of your scythe into the back of his neck, the blade was met with the resistance of the corded muscle residing there, and your gaze eagerly drank in the brief glimmer of pain that was but a ripple across his arrogant expression.

“I didn’t lose that fight. It was a draw, at best. Seems like you must not remember the excessive blood loss on your end. But anyhow, tell me something pirate hunter…” You uncrossed your legs to stand up and took one step closer towards Roronoa, careful not to let his sword further nick your skin even though it was already dangerously close to you, “How many bounties have you collected since we last saw each other? Three? Two? One?”

Your voice descended further into a teasing whisper, and Roronoa's indignation only grew with each number you hurled at him.

The samurai didn’t take your tone lightly, and perceived your step forward as something of a  challenge, one that his nerves and heart and bones pleasantly vibrated to the sound of. So he too took a step forward, away from the piercing curve of your scythe that hung behind him like a shadow.

Roronoa was a little taller than you were, so meeting his gaze meant angling your neck upwards whilst he simultaneously moved his face an inch closer to yours.  “You think you’re hot shit, huh? Try five, sweetheart.”

Your nostrils flared involuntarily at his bold claim, and something . . . something warm prickled underneath your skin at his referral to you as sweetheart. For some reason, that word━ especially coming from his lips━ was a bit harder to ignore compared to other comments about you from this bar's patrons. And what they said was far more conflicting than a simple term of endearment; even if the 'endearment' in question was so obviously meant to be condescending.

“Is that right? You think you're such a badass, don't you?"

"That's 'cause I am."

Roronoa's mocking sneer was punctuated with a step forward into your space this time; any closer and the front of your clothes might graze each other. The swordsman pushed the boundaries once more by adding a little more force onto the grip of his katana, enough to finally break the bonds of your umber tinted skin.

A barely decipherable noise of amusement and veneration rumbled in his chest when your blood dripped on the length of his sword, but your reaction was nothing more than an involuntary clench in your facial muscles.

"Yeah?" You questioned him with a glare and a tilt of your head in the direction of his blade that uncomfortably sat at the opening of your skin. The tightness in your voice was meant to goad him, but it also contained the sparks of a challenge━ and of something else you didn't want to identify━ that ignited in the pit of your stomach with an increasing amount of fervor.

"Yeah." His voice descended a little lower into a place that killed the next sentence on the tip of your tongue.

Your eyes then narrowed as you held Roronoa's taupe gaze, his overconfident words floated in the silent air between you like a speck of smoldering ash, ready to burst into something more intense and fierce the moment it touched the ground.

Then you shifted your cold gaze elsewhere, opting to let it lazily roam around the room. Everyone was staring at the both of you with uneasy expressions and anxious stares. You could tell that even at the slightest movement from either you or the swordsman would cause the panic bubbling beneath their skin to flood forth in waves.

If there was one thing about you, you preferred to be to discreet. It made your job a whole lot easier, and more enjoyable in the long run.

A hummed vibrated behind your plump lips and your glare returned to his. "Let's take this outside, swordsman. I'd hate to ruin this nice lady's establishment with scuff marks and your blood."

Roronoa huffed a scoff, the amused smirk from before uncurled into something more animalistic. "That's funny. But sure, I'm down. When I defeat you and spill your blood on the ground, it'll make perfect fertilizer for those little plants I saw outside."

You huffed at his cocky attitude and accompanied it with a roll of your eyes. Your stare pierced him for a moment longer before you rescinding it, along with your scythe that was still outstretched towards him. The mint haired swordsman followed suit after another beat or so.

"That's about as likely as a fish growing legs and walking on land." Your voice was thick with sarcasm as you fished out a cotton pouch from your bag; it was small in size, but heavy with Berry. As you slipped out a couple of bills to pay for the drink that sat idly forgotten at your seat, another hand forcefully placed several bills down on the counter.

That hand belonged to Roronoa. You had to force yourself from letting your irises linger too long, or else you'd start thinking about how rugged, calloused, and veiny it looked.

With a newfound general annoyance at both him and yourself, you proceeded to present the bills to the bartender, who looked as if she was one muscle twitch away from ducking under the table behind the counter. You offered something similar to a sympathetic smile to assuage whatever she was feeling.

"Don't bother." Roronoa called out.

When you turned around to greet his voice, he was sheathing the sword that he previously drawn and made his way to the entrance of the pub.

"What are you talking about?" As you inquired, the swordsman still allowed his back to face you, hardly pausing to properly address you.

"I said, don't bother." he repeated in a stern tone, as if that was going to elucidate exactly what he meant, "Now come on. I'm itching to cut you down so I can go lay down."

And without adding anything further, Roronoa eventually exited the bar and disappeared behind the doors.

You were starting to lose count of how many times you narrowed your eyes at the green-haired man, but your stare━ both equal parts vexed and confused━ rested on the doors he had just walked through as if glaring at them long or hard enough would summon him again.

With a sigh, you turned back to the thin stack of Berry he left on the table, eyeing it suspiciously. You weren't sure what he ordered or how much of it, but it look like quite a bit of money he'd just randomly tossed next to you.

Was he insinuating . . . . that he paid for both of your drinks? Could this be what he meant when he told you not to bother, because he already covered it? Such a gratuitous act of kindness, something seemingly so simple caused that weird fluttering to bounce against the walls of your stomach again.

Picking up your bag, you continued to poke and dissect his actions in an attempt find meaning in them as you tipped the barkeep, once more ignoring the stares of nearly every person in that building as you left.

The moment your heeled boots dug themselves into the ground, your peripheral vision was bombarded with something being swung in your direction at high speeds. Before you could even process what it was, you instinctively leapt out of the way, your neck jerking backwards to further avoid the object.

A grunt filled your ears, already knowing the origin of the sound. "Nice reflexes."

You exhaled an exasperated breath of air, turning your gaze to meet that of the mint-haired swordsman who had begun to unsheathe a second sword out of the three scabbards hanging from his hip.

"Can I at least breathe first? Set my stuff down perhaps?" You asked wryly, almost unimpressed, but you didn't waste any time removing the straps of your bag to set it down on a nearby barrel, still cursing the pirate hunter under your breath all the same.

"Didn't know you were that eager to eat dirt." The familiar hiss of your scythe's blade erecting from the rod sent a pleasurable chill up your arms. You held your weapon tightly at your side, your grasp around its length tightening ever still when Roronoa began to square his stance. Even when you were several feet away from him, you could still clearly see the crease in his brows becoming more prominent; he began to resemble some kind of beast.

But that glimmer in his eyes held no real fire in them━ at least not the one that would lead to anger; one could even say it was one of wild excitement. The swordsman already knew his thirst for a worthwhile fight would be sufficiently quenched once more.

"Shut up." With a grunt, Roronoa pushed off the balls of his feet to launch himself into a powerful sprint towards you. It was clear he wanted to close as much distance between the two of you as quickly as possible. His movements were reminiscent of his brief display of swordplay earlier in the bar, where he was one swipe away from slitting your throat.

He was fast, but the gritty and often dangerous nature of your job honed your reflexes to be faster.

Your spine bended as you briskly leaned backwards to dodge the double swipe of Roronoa's katanas. The sound of the sharp blades cutting through the very air around you. With it only inches away from your nose, it was enough to replace the blood pumping through your veins with pure adrenaline.

Using the momentum from your quick dodge, you allowed your back to curve into a bridge and kicked upwards into a backflip to move out of the way━ the corners of your lips twitched into a satisfied grin when you felt your foot collide with his jaw and chin.

Once you were upright again, you wasted no time lunging forward in a sprint, you body much lower to the ground than Roronoa's was. Your plan was to slash his legs to throw him off balance, but that plan quickly evaporated like smoke due to his quick recovery and immediate realization of what you were doing.

"Tch." Your tongue clicked against the roof of your mouth in annoyance when the swordsman was able to leap in the air in time to avoid your attack. He was high enough that you had to crane your neck to see. With that much height, the next blow was sure to be one with quite a bit of force behind it.

"Two-Swords Style, Nigiri...." The swordsman's orotund voice descended far from where he was suspended in midair, and you braced yourself for his next attack, "....Tower Climb Return!"

The following clash of piercing steel against metallic iron was deafening, swallowing up any other noise that reverberated around you. The sheer impact of Roronoa's attack created a thin ring of dust that encircled both your figures and violently buzzed against the pole of your scythe.

You gritted your teeth to remain footed into the ground, but the force was too much, and that shit-eating grin nearly unfurling at his lips was too annoying. It shook the steadiness in your legs and caused you to tumble back by several yards. By steeling your thighs and calves you willed yourself not to fall, huffing with effort and frustration.

It hadn't even been that long since you've last fought Roronoa, could he really have made noticeable improvements in a short amount of time?

Regardless of the answer, you weren't about to allow him the chance to prove himself.

The both of you then darted at each other again, your motions a bit more cutthroat this time, and a newborn determination to strike down the pirate hunter further fed the burning adrenaline that coursed through your body.

Reaching your arm backwards, you performed a horizontal slash that Roronoa parried almost instantly. With effortless control and graceful dexterity, you reached both arms behind your back and twirled your scythe between your fingers, shifting the weapon from one hand to the other, and attempted to cut him again.

He blocked that attack as well, the tip of the blade just inches away from his left eye. You saw something moving fast in your peripheral vision, and immediately jumped backwards to avoid the katana that was about to release your intestines from the confines of your stomach.

It was always a pain fighting Roronoa because he wielded multiple swords at once, which means battles with him were more drawn out than they needed to be.

You lunged at him once more, and began to administer a barrage of horizontal, vertical and diagonal slashes in rapid succession. Your constant switching from one hand to the other, in addition to its length and the impressive control you exerted over your limbs, you were able to create a variety of fluid, long and short-range attack patterns, barely allowing Roronoa enough time to parry.

The moss-haired swordsman was keeping up with the relentless flurry of your attacks quite well━ for a short while at least. Roronoa lost himself in his own inner monologue of searching for an opening wide enough to immobilize you, and before long, a red cut blossomed on his semi-exposed chest, the injury lazily drooling blood.

The amount of cuts both deep and shallow began to increase, tearing his skin asunder under the weight of your blows. Your scythe repeatedly made contact with the elongated ha of his katana as well as his tanned flesh, but it wasn't enough to deter him completely.

It should have been though, but the many encounters you've had with Roronoa reminded you that he was no ordinary man.

Within that bombardment of the numerous slices and projectile slashes of your scythe Roronoa had found a millisecond of respite, and used that brief pause to leap backwards and put some distance in between you two.

You weren't able to hear the aching cry from the muscles in your arms until after you halted your attack, but the adrenaline flickering in your gaze still raced around your irises unceasingly. Roronoa's own gaze was hard and unyielding, glistening with something you couldn't discern from where you stood. But even so, your body somehow knew to feel like malleable putty under his stare; it's as if it was instinctual.

And again your blades clashed against one another, a steady rhythm rose from the cacophony of noises that were generated from your battle with the swordsman. Your laborious breaths became synchronized with each other, heavy and full of effort. The thin splatters of blood became homogeneous with each other as the both of you took turns cracking each other's skin open. Your limbs moved about and against his in a deft fashion and every nerve in your body reacted to his.

So much so, you didn't even realize when it happened.

Your duel with Roronoa had been in the forefront of your mind entirely that you hadn't actively processed the moment when your ragged breaths turned to breathy pants. Nor did you realize the moment it was no longer a scythe and katanas clashing, but wet lips and warm extremities instead. That same glint that shimmered in your eyes all evening never faded even then; it still twinkled through the murky mist of lust that clouded yours and Roronoa's vision.

Whenever your eyes collided with that of Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro, an inescapable battle would always ensue━ it was tried and true, and it felt more like a promise. It was also true, although not externally expressed, that your fight with the mint-haired man was one that neither of you even wanted to evade.

With each brawl you learned something new about Roronoa, and you were repeatedly met with the reality and veracity of his skills, his reputation full-force. And when your brawl eventually led to the languid but hungry removal of each other's clothes, you learned more about Zoro, and the emotions hiding underneath his taut and rugged body. This learning curve was both all-consuming and tenderhearted, and you couldn't help but shiver at the fact you were the only one who could witness it.

And what good is a fight if he didn't learn from and about his opponent as well? Each new thing he unearthed about you was an incentive to further indulge your soft and fleshy curves, and observe how they seamlessly molded with firm, corded muscle. Completely unexpected, Zoro had become utterly fascinated with the warmth that resided under your icy, expressionless glare.

And when Zoro peeled back a new layer, when his lips hovered over an uncharted area of your skin━ hot, breathy, filled with groans of expletives intertwined with your name━ when the grip of his calloused fingers and his heavy cock simultaneously dug deeper into you, one leg dangling haphazardly off his shoulder, when your bodies meshed just like that, you moaned━ you knew you didn't want to stop fighting with him.

Again and again and again with each thrust, each roll of his hips, each sightless grope of your body, you knew you would gladly continue participating in this unspoken competition. You'd proudly don cuts and bruises if it meant you and you alone could have Roronoa Zoro like this. You'd keep at it with enthusiasm if it meant that your hearts would always collide so wholly with each other, not being able to tell where his ended and yours began.

( # ) @icy-spicy @godjo @tetzoro @triangularz @pookiesatoru

[zegrasdrysdale]

jh86 headcanons

fluff & smut

warning(s) : smut ! (hehe)

author’s note : a lil 3 am hc post bc i was having a jack breakdown (oops)

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fluff !!

Jack likes to keep most of his relationships private

not his relationship with you though. within a few weeks of your relationship being official, rumors swirl about the two of you

Jack embraces them and makes your relationship public when he posts you on his instagram when he posts his summer photo carousal before the season starts

you are close with his brothers as a result of being with jack, but you’re closer with Luke because he’s constantly around

Jack’s love language is physical touch and words of affirmation

you are there for him when he has both ups and downs during the season (especially when he’s down and in a slump)

he buys you a chain with his number on it for your birthday and you wear it to the first game you go to after receiving it

Jack is the worst patient when he’s hurt because he wants to get back on the ice, but with some bribery, you get him to cooperate so you can nurse him back to health

you go on the yearly summer trips to the lakehouse in Michigan that the Hughes boys take during the offseason

you’re friends with his friends that go to the house every year, especially Trevor and Cole

you liked the toothless look he had after the playoffs in 2023 and begged him to embrace it, but he still got it fixed anyway

Jack lets you borrow his Devils gear when you go to games, especially his jersey because he loves seeing you with his name across your back

you get him a bracelet he can wear on the ice with your names on it

the internet freaks out when you make your official wag debut in 2023 with the playoff jacket reveal, and Jack plays into it by posting you in your jacket on his story

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

smut / nsfw !!

Jack will fuck you whenever and wherever he can

he very much likes shower sex because he craves you after every game and he can never wait until he has his postgame shower

opposite of that, he will fuck you until you can’t walk after a rough game. he will use your body to get off, and you let him because you think it’s hot

lazy morning sex !!! especially when he had a day off and you all to himself

quickies are necessary sometimes because of both your schedules being insane. closets at the rock are never safe when the two of you are around and Jack is needy

Jack has a hair pulling kink. it’s the reason he keeps his hair on the longer side

he also has a praise kink and loves when you tell him how good he’s doing when he fucks you

Jack will get super jealous if a guy talks to you, and he will get super touchy in front of said guy. it usually ends with the two of you in the backseat of his car because you love how possessive he gets

88.5% of the time, he will take his time and make sure he pleasures you as well as himself. the other 12.5%, he’s pounding into you like no tomorrow. this is what happens after he or the team has a rough game

he looooves when you ride him

he also loooooves when he can fuck you and see your face when you come

Jack is a giver and receiver. he enjoys watching you fall apart because of his tongue. you can always make him come in your mouth with a good blowjob

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[bendycxmet]

Hi! How are you? I hope you are doing well <3 I binge-read all of you trigun fics and i loved them, so i wanted to request something too!

How about a Vash x reader where the reader sleeps on him? Vash is listening to them ramble about something and then boom, they fall asleep on him bc hes warm. <3

MY FIRST ASK! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY THIS MADE ME FOR THE ENTIRE DAY!

i am doing well! thank you for your support! <33

i usually take forever to write a piece, but ur ask inspired me and had me thinking all day on how to go about this. so hope you enjoy this! thank you for the request!

Sweet Dreams

Exiting the bathroom, freshly washed and donning one of Vash’s shirts, you throw your towel over your head, continuing to dry off your head while you peered out into the room. Vash lounged on the motel bed, arms thrown behind him to support his head, lean legs sprawled out and taking up the entire mattress. He was whistling a tune you didn’t recognize, one eye closed while the other surveilled you in the opening of the steaming door. 

“Ya sure you didn’t wanna take a shower? There’s still some hot water left,” you offered.

“Nah, got too comfy waiting here for you. I’ll take one in the morning.” 

He closed his other eye, humming the tune now. He did look comfy. A little too comfy. With his eyes closed, he didn’t see the mischievous glimmer in your eye. The pattering of your feet was his only warning as you dove for him, body landing atop his, an ‘oof!’ sounding from him as your body weight collapsed on his chest. You were cackling at the noise he made, wrapping your arms around his waist as his fingers tickled your sides.

“Not fair! You attacked a defenseless man!”

“Getting comfortable without me, handsome? Ay! Stop it!-” 

His fingers didn’t stop their wriggling assault, only ending when you began to retaliate. 

“Ok, ok! I’m done!” He coughed a laugh out. “Mm, you smell nice. I haven’t smelled this soap before. Where’d you get it?” He twirled a wet piece of hair between his fingers.

“Oh I didn’t tell you! I met this vendor at the market earlier! While you were off looking for your donuts, the smell of the loveliest lavender drew me in.”

Vash hummed along to your story, indicating that his attention was still 100% on you as he played with your hair. He breathed in the calming scent on your skin and hair, allowing it to sway him to sleep slowly. You rambled on and on about how the vendor made the soap, the techniques and oils she used to bring out the herb. 

“But I got her card so we can go back and get you a soap! I do love how you smell Vash, it’s almost like you have a sort of gene that prevents you from smelling bad.” You turned your nose further into his shirt, inhaling the raw smell of him–sunshine with notes of something earthy…petrichor, or something along those lines. It grounded you every time. “But geez, would it kill you to wash your laundry sometimes?! You stink!” you lied, teasing a finger into his chest.

He yelped, abruptly awoken by your harsh jabbing. He grabbed your finger, bringing it up to kiss it, splaying your hand open with his own, observing the size difference. 

“We can do a laundry day tomorrow. I saw the laundromat wasn’t too far off from us, so we can easily carry our loads there.” He sighed, a content smile plastered on his face at the domesticity you two indulged in. He entwined your fingers, bringing it to the side of his face. “That reminds me! I got us donuts for the morning! You should’ve seen the options, I mean. I was in heaven, Mayfly. Powdered, glazed, cake-”

He let your hand go as he gestured in the air, passionate about the change in subject.

It was Vash’s turn to ramble. And once he started on his favorite topic–donuts–there was no stopping him. The deep timbre of his voice held some power. His voice always became deeper late into the night, hinting that he was getting tired; but it seemed to lower your heart rate, lower your defenses and diminish the adrenaline you had from a busy day. The warmth of the day seemed to never leave him, his body heat encompassing the parts of you that touched him. You tucked your legs closer to his body as the coldness of the desert night reached for your feet. 

One of his arms was wrapped around you, hand coming to rest on your shoulder. The other was busy with your arm on the opposite side, fingers lightly grazing up and down. The security you felt in his presence never failed to put you to sleep. 

You hummed one last time, eyes softly closing at his praise for a certain jelly doughnut. You promised in your head that you were only shutting them for a minute. What lies you told yourself.

“But I got your favorite! It might have a bite in it, but I saved the majority of it for you! I know you’ll like it, because I know you, hehe…um. Mayfly?” 

Your soft snores alerted him that you stopped paying attention to his tales of the day. He peered down his nose at you, love clearly painted into his features. Your eyelashes were long from this angle, gently laid out on your sun-kissed skin. Your lips were parted, soft breaths felt on his chest as you breathed in his scent on each inhale and exhaled the minty paste from your nighttime routine. He’s told you plenty of times before, but if only you knew how beautiful you looked in his eyes. 

He felt goosebumps rise on your skin from the chill in the air. He reached down to grab the comforter, pulling it up to your shoulders. You shifted slightly, stilling in the creases of his warm neck that was now heating your cold nose. He giggled at the temperature difference, arms also wrapping around your waist as he settled further into the sheets.

He had to admit, his exaggerated noise and fuss at your sudden dive from earlier was only a ruse. He loved the nights you chose to sleep tucked into his side, but he delighted in the nights you chose to smother him, arms always wrapped around him. He had days to live for with you, but there were always nights to live for as well.

“Sweetest of dreams, Mayfly.”

A/N: side note! i am open to requests! i think they're super fun and it really does get me motivated to write more :)

masterlist

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[ar1mas]

- a rant

no because ive watched this stupid show 5 years ago, and i only noticed this now?? how???

ok. some context first. this is about fox' gotham, a prequel series to batman. or at least a potential one with slight changes. one of those changes is the relationship between oswald cobblepot and edward nygma (spelled with a 'y' for mayhap legal reasons? idfk its silly). whats their relationship like in the show? well...

theyre gay af. idk what to tell you.

okay so oswalds gay as fuck. edwards... ambiguous. totally ambiguous. he had a girlfriend or 2 and a half (kristen kringle, the-woman-who-shall-not-be-named (aka kristen but... blonde? this show is weird), and lee. not comfy counting lee, but technically shes one, hence the 'and a half')! very straight, much hetero (on another side note how tf is oswald the gay one, like i know he wears make-up and shit but eddies all about theatrics and showmanship and flair and hOW IS OSWALD THE GAY ONE NEXT TO HIM?? ok anyway).

so oswald was (is. be real.) canonically in love with ed, ed was.........., and 'penguin in love' is a piece of music composed by david russo for season three in which the whole "im in love with my best friend" thing took place.

that song has been used all over season three, as far as i can tell not once in season four, and once in season five.

.....or so i thought.

because yesterday, while in another obsession phase (of which i get one a few times a year. ive only ever watched the show once, in 2019, when it ended. still dream about nygmobblepot though. i dont dream about media, like ever, but with them, its different), i saw 5x8 to satiate my never satisfied craving of nygmob scenes, obviously skipping the main story bc i dont care about that straight shit. i got to the scene where oswald kills mr. scarface and frees arthur penn from said mr. scarface, after which ed shoots him in the head because thats what one does in such a situation, thought "aw how cute", again, as one does, and then realised.

what was that background music just now? rewinds.... oh. oh haha, its 'penguin in love'. how fun.

WHAT.

WHY IS THAT IN THERE. WHY DID THEY INCLUDE IT.

correction. it wouldve made sense to have it here. they used it in 5x5 for the speech about not backstabbing each other (wedding vows for murderers fr fr), so using it again after their relationship has solidified wouldve made sense.

note how im saying 'would have'.

because it would have made sense, if they used it when ed said "i accept you for the person that you are, just as you accept me for the cold logician that i am. thats why this friendship is great." they didnt, though. they used another equally heartfelt song for that. dunno what its called, it sounds a bit like 'penguin in love' but isnt, not sure if that one has a specific meaning like 'penguin in love' does.

so when was the song used? at 36:08 – 36:17. barely ten seconds, right before eds lines, right before ed kills penn.

...right when penn was sitting in oswalds lap because theyd been fighting for the gun and os fell on the ground.

now. the most obvious answer to "why in the fucking hell" would be because ooh this dudes on his lap so sexy, but no. no. 'penguin in love' is about one specific thing: love. the pure kind. the kind that makes you giddy with butterflies in your stomach, kicking your legs, while youre on your bed, writing in your diary about this guy you have a crush on. and oswald and penn do have history, oswald was more or less fond of penn, but not in love (i mean where would he have found the room in his heart if it was already filled with EDWARD EDWARD EDWARD martin my sweet boy EDWARD EDWARD EDWA-). im also definitely not thinking that penn was so happy about being free from mr. scarfaces influence and not having to kill oswald (oh yeah, the horror. who would wanna kill oswald, the guy with the big ego, who never does anything for anyone without some kind of endgoal- well, unless your name is edward of course) that he instantly fell in love with the guy. i can deal with the homicidal kind of crazy, but that? no. thats where i draw the line.

the next most obvious answer is that it was about oswalds love for ed. more believable, since its what the song was made for, but more believable doesnt mean believable. or likely. because even if i 100% believe that hes been loving this dude for so long its not something he has to think about anymore for it to be true, im pretty sure that itd be very random to suddenly focus on that when oswald was just about to die. so no, even if its what the song is intrinsically about.

so next most obvious answer is- wait. thats it. huh? theres no obvious answer anymore? everything else is brainrot? oh. oh well. its been five years, im sure its too late to worry about it now. what the hell.

im sure you know where im going with this. or maybe not. honestly idk what the fuck im talking about-

youre smart. you know what im about to say. if it wasnt about what oswald was feeling because he was otherwise preoccupied, and it wasnt about penn because that makes no fucking sense, then who was this song used for? who else was in the room?

...oh.

YOU.

YOU FUCKING IMBECILE. YOU STUPID DENSE PIECE OF-

inhale, exhale. no. don’ get mad, you know he cant help it. you know hes totally helpless when it comes to emotions. just breathe. ok.

i hate him. i hate him so much.

if the song wasnt for oswalds sake, it was for his. because i know hes in love with oswald, but does ed? does the producers??

'penguin in love' is about oswalds love. its about his love for edward. its about their love, their relationship. its about edward just as much as it is about oswald.

a-fucking-PPARANTLY, I DIDNT KNOW THAT!! I JUST THOUGHT OH YEAH OZZY BE THE GAY ONE HAHA FUNNY, I DIDNT KNOW IT COULD BE ABOUT ED DIRECTLY!!!

(why am i like this? what is my life? i will never be normal.)

ed has always been the obsessive one. first kristen (and the woman who shall not be named is just an extention of that ofc), then oswald, then lee. and as weve seen with kristen, when hes obsessed with someone, he can become possessive. absolutely not on the scale oswald is on, but still. theres a wee bit of jelly there. oh you have a boyfriend? better get rid of him! oh you wanna run away from me bc i murdered your boyfriend? better keep you right in place and- oh shit did i kill you? ono D:

this is a huge oversimplification, but you get the point. its there. or at least it has to be there because why else do you get so angy that someone is sitting in the lap of your just friend because they were fighting and they ended up in that position totally accidentally? like thats not normal behaviour, for anyone, unless you have possessive tendencies.

i mean its not like penn was a threat in any way. "he wasnt the threat, the dummy was the-" like i understand ed told penn about the submarine which was supposed to be a secret, but come on, like they couldnt make sure penn wouldnt say anything. so why would ed shoot him? its not even like penn was a random dude where that type of thing would be very inconsequential, oswald knew him. hed worked for oswald, and like i said, oswald was more or less fond of the guy. penns just a poor little meow meow, y u kil him eddie? 🥺

unless this fondness was part of the problem. unless ed saw how happy oswald was to see him, got annoyed but let it slide, then used penn attacking os and knowing about the sub as an excuse to kill him. and why would oswald being happy to see penn be a problem to ed? it wouldnt be. it wouldnt be, unless ed thinks oswald is his.

which makes sense. i know im calling him names and calling him out, but like. oswald told him he loved him like 5 times 2 years prior, i dont blame him for believing that maybe theres something to it (especially since that was the point of 3x14, oswald really being in love with him and surprising himself with it). but i thought ed didnt feel the same way? because hes very hetero? because he had a full-on girlfriend before, twice, technically? because-

"the truth is oswald, you would sacrifice anyone to save your own neck. even me."

"like i said! you will always fail, because youll never change."

hm. i know this is a bit off topic, but i just got a war-flashback and... why did ed sound so hurt when he said that? "youll never change." "you would sacrifice anyone. even me." why does he care? they were friends, best friends, yes, but why does he sound like a heartbroken wife who just found out her husband cheated on her again? why does-

"honestly you deserve this. you are opportunistic, your loyalty is.. shaking, at best, and you will hurt anyone, anyone, to get what you want."

"and yes, i was not a good friend. to you or anyone. its why im alone. but i saw you for what you are and i valued that!"

...why would edward nygma, the man who literally said "i dont love you" to oswald, be jealous of even the idea that maybe penn could have something going on with oswald? and why would he act on it if hes usually so careful to not reveal his feelings (unless its about kristen. the original obsession, the american dream, the just be normal, show them you are normal, and people will accept you)? he wouldnt.

unless oswald just told him that he knows he messed up. that hes sorry for it.

and unless that made him think that maybe theres a chance.

"love is about sacrifice. its about putting someone elses needs and happiness before your own."

"you gave up your revenge for me?"

a chance... for what?

"life begins anew."

"shall we get to work?"

and if theres a chance, hes not about to risk losing it. not this time.

so maybe 'penguin in love' is about more than just oswalds feelings. maybe they were trying to tell us that, yes, we see you traumatised gay kid, were sorry this is all we can give you, but here you go, eds in love with him too, but don’t tell the channel. subtlely. just for barely ten seconds. and maybe it can be enough.

nope, it wont be. im gonna sit here crying about the injustice of not having them kiss on screen in the finale as was originally intended for the rest of my life. seriously though, what is this, nbc's hannibal, where im noticing something new details every single time i watch the show, causing me to spiral? no, i was already spiralling. the spiralling was the reason i rewatched the scene. the scene simply made it worse.

so yeah, im done freaking out about a mediocre show that was cancelled 5 years ago and is honestly not worth anyones time (like, its ok. it might even be better than i remember since its been so long. i doubt it. but its ok).

tl;dr: ive only now realised that a specific gay song plays in a specific episode of a show i watched 5 years ago and the only reason theyd include it in the episode is if the dude that was not canonically in love with the other dude was in fact gay, they just werent allowed to make it canon, so they added the gay song to subtlely tell us about it.

have a wonderful day, hellsite. dont do what i did and go crazy about fictional gay people. i know you will though, that’s why im here too. i hate gay people. these two make me homophobic so bad, i wanna gauge my eyes out and skin myself-

[frostedshore]

I'm a sims 3 girlie and I'm gonna make a long post abt my experience as a NEW sims 2 player. I know nobody cares about this but this is my blog I can do whatever I want!!! And I wanna write appreciation for sims 2.

Ok so first of all, playing ts2 from ts3 is HARD. I underestimated sims 2. Before playing it, I already have prejudice that it will have less content than sims 3 & that the experience of playing sims 2 will be boring bc there is less lifetime goals, no traits, and less gameplay. And I was right. The first time I played sims 2, I found myself getting bored playing with Strangetown. My first gameplay was playing 1 rotation with all of sims 2 strangetown households & I thought to myself "damn i really have to force myself playing with so many households so everybody age up." I closed my game & think so myself "yep. I'm never gonna play sims 2 again." Don't get me wrong, the story of Strangetown is AWESOME. But the lack of gameplay makes me feel like i'm stuck with doing the same mundane tasks again and again for a week with every household (ex: making sure my sims got promoted, taking care of needs, socializing). I admit that going on dates are more fun in sims 2 but it isn't enough to hook me.

Tbh I can't play sims 4 bc it feels like dollhouse simulator. And sims 2 feels a little bit like dollhouse simulator too at first. The reason why I love the sims 3 so much is because of the sims 3 skill challenges. I love that if you play the guitar in 10 parties you will get a bigger tip every time you perform for tips in public. Or if you do an interaction for a certain amount you will get special perks. This is the same reason why I love playing stardew valley and feel so much joy when my character fall asleep & level up their farming/foraging/fishing & unlock new craftables/abilities/gameplay.

But then I tried giving sims 2 a second chance, and this time I play with open for business & this EP CHANGED MY LIFE. OFB is the best sims EP ever. The gameplay is SMOOTH & I've never felt so much joy from playing ANY sims games. It's so awesome bc we can make any business we want! And I eventually fall in love with sims 2 rotational gameplay when I do a BACC challenge & made my own hood with 4 founding families where each family have a role & businesses. Farmers in my hood own a grocery store & my restaurant owner buy his ingredients from them. I also make my 'mechanic' sim service sims, meaning that when I'm playing with another family & their plumbing broke, my mechanic sim (who also run a business where he restore junk cars) will come & fix their plumbing for them. Everyone's life is intertwined and they all need each other. My mayor sim also collect money from the households, and once the mayor have enough money to build a new park, the townies will have more places to visit. So I'm always motivated to make each rotation counts & tried to make as much money as possible.

After playing TS2, i'm not sure how I can go back to playing sims 3. Climbing the corporate ladder with sims 3 job now feels meaningless and sims 3 outings SUCKS. But I am still frustrated with the lack of gameplay sims 2 have compared to sims 3. I just want sims 2 to have all of sims 3 gameplay & it'll be my ultimate dream game😭 (yes now i prefer sims 2 graphics + rotational/aging system + loading screens + the freedom to decorate the hood + etc.) I just need sims 2 to have more skills, opportunities, skill challenges, interactions, and traits & I won't even look at any sims games that are being developed like paralives/inzoi😭 I really do think sims 2 found the formula for the perfect life simulator, but it's flawed. Anyways if you're a sims 3 girlie who only ever played sims 3, do give sims 2 a chance :D You won't regret it!

[jennyandvastraflint]

Would love to hear more about your thoughts on the commercialisation of fandom!!

Ooooh, boy you've opened a can of worms. I took a Fan Studies course at uni for a module bc I could choose it, and I did a lot of research into this specific topic... I hope it's okay that I'm just putting in some of my slides and then summarising underneath each!

Now, fandom in, for instance, fan fiction spaces, works on the basis of a Gift Economy in which gifts rather than money are exchanged. However, these gifts aren't just meant for one person, but for many, and even when you for instance do an artwork or a fanfic for someone, other people can still ALSO read it. These gifts can (but don't have to) be responded to with another gift, be it a comment on a fic, or a fic in return. Now, I could go into much more detail here, but I recommend checking out for instance this text by Trisha Turk on the TWC for some more in-depth stuff about this. (I'll list all the sources I used in the presentation in the end btw!) The gist of it is that fandom is a very complex system in which the reciprocation of gifts - and therefore labour - is distributed across the community.

(more under the cut)

HOWEVER capitalism, as always, comes along and tries to ruin things for profit.

Fandoms continue to form because of the unrestricted movement and no one dictating what is well, "really" canon and what isn't. I'm sure you've witnessed some fans in more recent years refusing to ship things that "won't become canon anyway", positioning the canonicity of a ship or a scenario higher than... well, their own critical reflection and interpretation OF the media and their own creative endeavours. At the end of the day, canon for me personally is something to draw on, negotiate with, or reject if it's stupid, while more recent fandoms I've seen sometimes go about their engagement with fandom as a sort of... worshipping of canon almost, and where being noticed by the creators is sort of the ultimate goal.

Now, this is of course connected to corporations realising that hey, actually people engaging with our media and creating something about it bring in numbers, and with them being able to make a profit off of views on social media, they seek to drive certain forms of engagement with the content. However, they are of course seeking to police HOW you engage with things, and don't you dare stray from their vision too much. This, of course, harms especially marginalised communities who propose alternative readings of media, who subvert the show itself and who transform it into something else, adding themselves into the work and into a world where, by design, they were invisible. It's also an attempt to undermine fan activism and grassroots organising by fans (if you wanna hear more about fan activism shoot me another ask and I will ramble <3 edit: link to post about fan activism) by keeping them in line with a sterilised version of fandom. In this sterilised and controlled version, the forms most often encouraged are things like video edits (but don't be too out there, that's bad too) that can be consumed like content by fandom... They like video edits, sterilised fanart, and things that are easily consumed and bring numbers, but "don't you dare write that nasty Spirk fanfiction where they have sex in the captain's chair! Ewww, yuck yuck!"

Rather than having a fandom driven by community, you have one driven by consumption, and that has become increasingly clear in the past few years, with readers on fan fiction asking "When next chapter?", pressuring artists, writers, etc. for more 'content' for them to consume without a) participating in the Gift Economy fandom is built upon and b) realising that these fan works are gifts to the community in the first place, and not content... These are, by the way, often the same fans who will cheer on AI because now they can finally read a story they wanted someone to continue :D Instead of using their own fucking brain, they're asking a bot trained on scraping works to produce them some bad, surface level jumble of words just so they can consume, consume, endlessly consume without ever having to think.

A few years ago (well in like, the late 2000s), a site called FanLib wanted to profit off of the resale of fanfiction, but were quickly shut down. Their mistake was that they mistook the community of fandom for a commodity to exploit for their own commercial interests. I'm not sure you've seen it, but Wattpad has sent authors emails asking them to update their fics frequently because it would appease the algorithm (see Tumblr Post about this here), which leads me to my next little point!

Algorithms! If you have ever done fan edits and posted them on sites like TikTok, Instagram, etc., you'll have noticed that... unless you post regularly and frequently (like. one edit a day at least), the algorithm will NOT push your video at all and it will be buried. Algorithms are based on how well a post performs not in terms of actual community that is built, but of course on numbers. Wattpad also functions on an algorithmic principle, which is why you have some........ individuals coming to AO3 and complaining about the supposed algorithm, spamming their work and reposting it, yadda yadda. Basically, these fans are so used to being spoonfed by an algorithm by now, they are confused when they are actually left on their own and are supposed to learn some basic fandom rules. It's honestly frightening to see fandom not only be reduced to this surface level interaction and to number-based algorithmic systems, but also to the trend-hopping TikTokification of fandom.

A study done by Booth and Dare-Edwards published in 2021 that focused on school age children basically came to the following conclusions... Children still connect "fan" with the same stereotypes of obsessive and unruly individuals that were plaguing us thirty years ago. A whole bunch of children think fandom is a thing of the past and that it peaked in the early 2000s - and while fandom of course is different now and has changed with the spread of the internet, fandom very much still is A Thing. Further, children connected fandom and being a fan mostly with buying merchandise and collecting, and also with plain consuming content, echoing "neo-liberal associations of ‘emotion’ with ‘buying power’, but at the same time, seemed to pathologize those who practice fandom (as they see it) ‘too much’" (Booth and Dare-Edwards 230). The text concludes that while there has been an explosion of media and you are becoming more multi-facetted in what you are a fan of, lilypad hopping and essentially abandoning fandoms after a brief period of surface level engagement and consuming content is increasingly becoming more common. From my own experience, this is for instance the case with shows like Willow (2022), Good Omens(ish), etc. Pretty much anything more recent doesn't have as stable a fanbase and if you enter the fandom a month too late it's already fizzing out. It's really fucked up, honestly.

Right, after that long tangent about this, I want to bring up ancillary models, which is an attempt by capitalist companies to market the previously unwanted Gift Economy of fandom as something new and desirable, but something they are in control of.

Ancillary Content Models try to lure fans in with "free" Behind-the-Scenes content. The guise they have stolen from fandom of acting like a Gift Economy of saying "here, this is for all our dedicated fans <3 Consume :D" is used to downplay the commercial infrastructure these Content Models (honestly it's already in the name). The "gifted" content is more concerned with getting loads of people to individually consume as much of it as possible to create an alternative revenue on for instance social media through views, clicks, likes, etc. They're essentially trying to commercialise our viewing time and keep us engaged with that additional content as much as possible. Rather than having a community that comes together to share their ideas and stories around a metaphorical campfire, Ancillary Content Models want each person alone to sit and stare at the stuff they put out as much as possible, always placidly clicking "like" and demanding more. They also want to cultivate an "official" fan community (aka the ones most dedicated to consuming additional content) that they can monitor and control, and they don't encourage anything that's too... out there, too subversive, too queer, etc. Coined "re-gifting economy" by Suzanne Scott, capitalism with these Ancillary Content Models has warped the Gift Economy fandom functions on into a model that equates consumption with community, and which wants to profit off of fans' engagement and their free labour of making viral TikTok edits that adhere to the sterilised version of what a fan "should be". The example I used in my presentation for this is from The Dragon Prince, which, while I do love the show, has been pushing such Ancillary Content Models. They also have a Discord (which is regulated and monitored) as their "official fan community" place, and not only are the rules pretty strict, but it also just... doesn't feel like a community but just like a bunch of people wanting more content gathered in one place :/

Now, to conclude this, capitalism sucks and is trying to ruin fandom communities in order to replace them with something they can make some more money of, and rather than having a critical fanbase that questions things, they want one that endlessly consumes the "free" content they churn out. Stay active in fandom, remember we're a Gift Economy, learn the fandom rules, and keep hating capitalism <3

Fan Work: Labor, Worth and participation in Fandom's gift economy by Trisha Turk

Now, the sources I have used for this...

Repackaging fan culture: The regifting economy of ancillary content models by Suzanne Scott

Stanfill, Mel. “The Fan Fiction Gold Rush, Generational Turnover, and the Battle for Fandom’s Soul.” The Routledge Companion to Media Fandom, edited by Melissa A. Click and Suzanne Scott, New York, 2017, pp. 77-79.

"No one's a fan of anything anymore, this isn't 2002.": Surveying 7–17-year-olds on being a fan and contemplating the future of fandom. by Paul Booth and Helena Louise Dare-Edwards

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

*appears out of being thought into existence*

Hear me out- Topaz with s/o doing the “I don’t care who the IRS sends I’m not paying my taxes” when Topaz tries to ask them out a date (it’s light hearted teasing though)

If you manifest this idea into writing would be great

*disappears out*

“I don’t care who the IPC sends, I am not paying my taxes”

characters: Topaz x gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: Do I have any clue about Topaz’ character? What a great Joke! Will this be outdated the picosecond she appears in the story? Absolutely! Why am I still writing for her? Bc she’s cute and I absolutely adore her!

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Topaz

You had always had an… unique sense of humor, saying things that would make people not accustomed to it freeze in confusion, too baffled to say anything. Only for the at first small grin on your face to grow larger and larger, feeding off the uncomfortable silence. And while you luckily agreed to keep them at a minimum, you always found the most unfitting –or fitting if she were to see it from your perspective– moment to make up for it.

As Topaz finally arrived in front of your apartment, having made sure to wake up a bit earlier so she still had time to spend with Numby before heading out, she took one last glance at her reflection in a nearby puddle before ringing your doorbell. Counting the seconds it took you to open the door.

…20, 21, finally a click before the door opened slightly. Faster than usual, she thought, only for the door to open completely, revealing you standing behind it, favorite mug in hand.

“Hey Y/N! I still have some time before I have to go to that meeting, wanna grab a coffee?” It wouldn’t have been the first time the two of you went to go drink coffee together, but judging from the look on your face, the feeling you might not have been much of a morning person slowly crept over Topaz.

“I don’t care who the IPC sends, I am not paying my taxes.”

You were joking. You had to be. Nobody would be dumb enough to tell the up and coming star of the IPC that they weren’t paying taxes. Not even y-... well, there was a chance.

When Topaz’ mind finally managed to claw its way back into the real world however, the sight of the shit-eating grin spanning ear to ear on your face was enough to make her breathe out a sigh of relief before letting out a small chuckle.

“What a way to start my day. You’re paying for the coffee today”, she declared as she turned around, waiting long enough for you to put away your mug before walking in the direction of the shop, you quickly catching up to her before your usual banter continued.

Even though she knew you were joking, Topaz will check your file in the tax archives… just to make sure.

[notiddygxthgf]

6. troublemaker

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ Did you miss me? ❞ ❝ Only a little. ❞

★ c.w.: smoking, smut, lots of filthy dirty talk omg. (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: i hated writing this chapter only bc its like omg. i just want everyone to be HAPPYYYYY!! ugh. I tried to make it slow burny but as you can see that did not work out. I missed aki too much to bear it. Anyway! I'm finishing up the last few chapters in google docs (dw there are many chapters you will see before i post them, i like to be prepared is all) and im thinking of how to end the story. Leave suggestions! Keep them comments coming, I love reading through them! I be, like, kicking my feet n shit. 

★ w.c: .5.5k

shameless ; chapter index

THE MORNING LIGHT FILTERED SOFTLY through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the room. You stirred, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek. His arm was still draped over you, holding you close. As you opened your eyes, you found yourself face to face with him. He was already awake, his gaze warm and soft, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice husky.

Yesterday was real. He was real.

"Morning," You replied, a blush creeping up your cheeks. The two of you were still pressed bare chest to bare chest, a gesture so sickeningly intimate that you couldn't help but blush.

He brushed a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. "How did you sleep?" he asked.

You smiled, feeling a little shy. "Better than I have in a long time," you admitted. "You?"

He chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling. "Like a baby," he said, his hand gently caressing your back. "You're a wild sleeper, though. Almost pushed me off the bed."

You laughed, feeling a lightness in your chest that you hadn't felt in ages. "And you're a wild lover. My back feels like shit," you teased, snuggling closer to him.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Sorry," he said quietly, his breath warm against your skin. "Wanna do it again sometime?"

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and for a moment, you were lost in the tender bliss of it all. 

"When's sometime?" You dared to ask.

He grinned – giddy and breathless and pretty, "Right now works for me. You?"

You laughed, "Don't be greedy."

Still, you thought about it. You thought about rolling over and kissing his pretty face again, being close to him – feeling his hands on your hips while he slowly, lazily thrusted up into you.

But then, reality came crashing down on you. You had a train to catch and responsibilities to face. As much as you wanted to stay in this cocoon of warmth and affection with him forever – stay buried in his strong, sweet smelling arms – you knew you couldn't.

You glanced over at the clock on the bedside table and your eyes widened in alarm. "My train!" You exclaimed, quickly pulling away from him. You reached for your phone, checking the time. 

Hurriedly, you got out of bed. You began gathering your things, slipping into your Public Safety suit and tie uniform. As you zipped up your suitcase, you caught his eye in the mirror. He was watching you with the most tender smile, and it made your heart ache.

"I'm going to have to call a cab," You said, smoothing out your uniform in the mirror. "I was going to walk, but... at this rate..." You trailed off, biting your lip.

He sat up, running a hand through his hair. "Don't worry about it," he said, getting out of bed. He came up behind you, his presence comforting. "I'll drive you."

You turned to face him, a look of surprise on your face. "You sure?" you asked, your voice soft. "I don't want to put you out of your way. I know you have work today."

You really, really, could get used to a sight like this – a handsome captain standing in nothing more than a pair of boxers behind you, admiring your uniform in the mirror like you were a fucking painting.

He smiled, a gentle, reassuring smile. "I can run a few minutes late," he said. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. "I want to make sure you get there safely."

It felt so good to be desired by him.

You felt a lump form in your throat. The way he held you, the concern in his voice—it was more than you had expected, more than you felt you deserved. You looked at your reflection in the mirror, meeting his eyes. 

"I'll be fine, Aki," You said softly. You were a devil hunter, after all. You could defend yourself against anything.

"It's not up for debate," he said gently but firmly. "I'm taking you to the train station. Are you all packed?"

At this rate, I'm gonna fall for him.

"Yeah," You smiled breathlessly.

He landed a smack on your ass, "Then bring it here, and let's hit the road. If I look at you any longer, I'll give you a reason to miss the train."

"Fine," You laughed. "I'm carrying my own suitcase, though."

It was something you were used to doing. Something completely mindless – your husband never helped you with your bags, or anything like that. 

"And have you lift a finger?" He retorted, "Over my dead body."

"Watch me," You grinned back.

You never did wind up carrying your suitcase to the car. Or opening the door, for that matter. Aki, a man true to his word, did not let you lift a finger.

.

The train station was the same way it had been when you'd arrived only a week or so earlier. The only different thing about it, in fact, was the fact that you were with the same man you had bumped into upon your arrival – and now he was carrying your luggage for you.

As you reached up to grab your suitcase, you collided with someone. Startled, you looked up to find yourself face-to-face with a man who immediately captured your attention. He was tall, easily over six feet, with broad shoulders and a powerful build that spoke of both strength and discipline. His dark hair was tied back in a neat topknot, accentuating his sharp, angular features. But it was his eyes that held you—their piercing blue depths seemed to look straight through you, filled with a seriousness that made you catch your breath.

"Sorry—" he began, his voice a deep, resonant baritone that vibrated through the narrow space.

The butterfly effect was a strange thing, truly. 

The two of you stopped in front of the tracks. He checked his wrist watch, parking your luggage right beside him. As if on cue, a train pulled into the station, screeching to an unceremonious stop. You had half of a mind to be upset about its arrival, as if you had been robbed of your precious time with him (even if it was only a few minutes, and even if the two of you had spent the entire car ride talking shit about coworkers).

"Just in time," He remarked.

You didn't know how to feel. Should you have been happy that you were finally able to leave your transgressions behind and return to your husband? If such was the case, then why did you feel as if you were leaving such a large part of you behind?

As if your heart was buried in Tokyo along with the memories of your past?

"Yup," You replied in a remarkably stupid fashion. As the doors of the train opened and passengers began pouring out, your heart dropped.

He observed you fondly, the faintest hint of affection in his stoic resting face – as if he was expecting you to make the first move.

So, not knowing what else to do, you bowed your head ever-so-slightly. 

"Thank you for everything," You said. Then, struggling to find the words to say what you meant (I miss you already...? Will I ever see you again...? I wish I didn't have to leave...?), you added, "Okay. I guess this is it. Goodbye, Aki."

You turned to walk away, feeling the weight of the moment pressing on your chest. Every step felt like a betrayal. 

Suddenly, you felt a firm but gentle grip on your arm. Before you could process what was happening, Aki pulled you back with a surprising urgency. 

In an instant, his lips met yours in a kiss so passionate that it took your breath away. You stumbled backward, the sheer force of the moment making your knees weak, but his arm around your back secured you, holding you close to him – like he was afraid he would lose you if he let you go.

Time seemed to stop. The world around you blurred, and all you could focus on was the warmth of his lips and the pounding of your heart. His other hand moved to cup the side of your face, fingers gentle yet firm, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of this moment. Your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

When he finally pulled away, you were both breathless. He looked at you, eyes filled with a mix of emotions you couldn't quite decipher. His cheeks were tinged with a slight blush, an endearing contrast to his usual stoic demeanor.

"Goodbye," he said softly, his voice slightly husky from the kiss. The faint blush on his cheeks deepened, giving him an almost boyish charm. 

You could feel your face heating up, the blush spreading like wildfire. "Bye," you managed to say, your voice coming out more giddy than you intended. The giddiness in your tone mirrored the tumultuous emotions swirling inside you.

With one last lingering look, you turned and walked toward the train, toting your suitcase with you. As you reached the door and stepped inside, you couldn't resist glancing back. He was still standing there, watching you with a mixture of longing and resignation.

The doors closed with a final, echoing thud, and the train lurched forward. You found a seat by the window, your heart still racing. As the train pulled away, you watched Aki's figure grow smaller and smaller, until he was just a distant memory in the Tokyo landscape.

Like the night you had taken a cab to get away from him.

You sighed, resting your head against the window. The kiss lingered on your lips, a bittersweet reminder of what you were leaving behind. The train rumbled on, carrying you back to the life you knew – a life that, for some odd reason, seemed much emptier.

A faint buzz of your phone, and you were checking instantly. A part of you hoped it was him, begging you to get off the train, to stay with him, husband be damned.

AKI

|   I hope I get to see you again soon.

|   Get home safe.

Soon. Somehow, despite the heavy feeling in your chest that you were leaving something behind, you found it in yourself to smile. . . .

Deciding to take the more scenic route home, you opted out of boarding the bullet train. You rode local instead. You didn't even mind that you had to transfer three times, or that the commute took eight hours. It gave you some time to finish up the book you had packed, and even more time to catch up on the sleep you had lost the night before.

More importantly, above all else, you wouldn't have to see your husband so soon.

By the time you finally stumbled into the house – haphazardly tugging your suitcase along with you, it was bedtime. You found yourself hoping that your husband had gone to bed early, so that he wouldn't come all up on you expecting some sort of "I missed you" sex.

You kicked your shoes off in the foyer, and pulled your suitcase down the corridor until the voice of your husband called your name.

"You home?"

Fuck.

"Yeah!" you huffed, reluctantly following his voice towards your bedroom. You had hoped to slip in unnoticed, crawl into bed, and avoid any conversation altogether.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes fixed on you as you entered. He looked familiar – brown hair and tired eyes searching your face – but his presence didn't bring you the peace it once did. You could see the tension in his jaw, the furrow in his brow. He was waiting for something, perhaps an explanation, an apology, or a confession.

"How was your week?" he asked, his voice neutral but his eyes piercing.

"It was fun!" you said, trying to sound casual. "Met up with some old friends, got to meet some new ones..."

Images of Aki and you together flashed through your mind, and you felt a pang of guilt.

"I stayed up to talk to you, you know," he said, his tone harder now.

Your heart dropped. "About what?"

"These new friends of yours," he said. "Wouldn't happen to be one of your coworkers, would it?"

Shit. Fuck. Shit, fuck. 

Did he know? Knowing him, he could have been drunk and jealous, and just talking out of his ass. Still, a part of you couldn't help but wonder.

You froze. "What are you getting at?"

"I'm saying I don't know what you thought you were doing in Tokyo," he said, his voice rising. "But word travels in Public Safety. There are rumors about you dancing around with a little Captain, or some shit."

He does know.

"That's ridiculous!" you snapped, your defensiveness rising. "The Captain and I are mutual friends with Himeno. She made introductions, and he bought us a round of drinks. They're blowing it out of proportion."

"Are they?" he shouted, standing up. "Then, you should really, really start clearing your name. You could very well have fucked him already."

"It's not like that!" you retorted, tears stinging your eyes. It was like that. "It's not my fault that people have nothing better to talk about. I'm in love with you, and only you."

You were lying. You knew you were lying. He knew you were lying.

"Bull shit," he scoffed. "We haven't made love in two weeks."

"I don't want to do this right now," you muttered, turning away. He was insufferable, as per usual. "I'm exhausted."

"You're always exhausted," he shot back. "Always too tired to talk, too tired to fuck. Then you go off on this work trip, and there are rumors about you at some party. What am I supposed to think?"

You felt a mix of guilt and frustration. "You're my husband. You're supposed to trust me," you said quietly. "I didn't cheat on you. Don't be a dick, it was just a dance!"

Truly, the irony of the entire conversation was not lost on you.

"Want to know the truth? I really don't give a shit if you cheat on me or not. I can have another woman in here tomorrow to take your place," Your husband's next words were cold and unforgiving, "You want to keep your white-picket-fence life? Then stop embarrassing me in public."

With tears streaming down your face, you slipped into a nightgown you had hung up on the dresser. The bed felt cold and uninviting as you slid under the covers, your husband's eyes still boring into you. You turned your back to him, staring at the wall, trying to will yourself to sleep. 

The damage was already done, the emotional distance between you and your husband growing wider with each passing moment. The bed felt even colder now, and you closed your eyes, hoping for sleep to come quickly and take you away from the reality you were living.

Lying there, you couldn't help but replay the moments with Aki in your mind. The way he made you feel alive, seen, and wanted. You felt a deep pang of guilt, knowing you had betrayed your husband's trust. Yet, part of you couldn't bring yourself to regret it entirely. 

The fact of the matter was that Aki had filled a void in your life, one that you hadn't even realized was there until he came along.

Aki was ten times the man your husband could ever dream of being.

The hustle and bustle of Tokyo played in your mind, the energy of the people, and the warmth of a certain dark, handsome Captain. You even found yourself missing Himeno, her infectious laughter and the way she always knew how to lighten the mood. But most of all, you missed the secret moments with Hayakawa, the stolen kisses, the way he breathed passion into your name. Your heart ached with the memory of it all.

"I hope I'm wrong," Your husband said, his voice low and steady – a reminder of all that you had lost by settling down with him so young. "But, above all else, I hope I don't have to tell you that cheating is insulting to a man like me and stupid for a woman like you."

A man like him. You could nearly laugh at the prospect of your husband being grouped into any sort of high category. He was a piece of shit. That's what he was, and it was getting progressively harder to ignore that fact.

"Goodnight," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. You wouldn't glorify him with a response.

Your husband lay down beside you. 

"Is there something you're not telling me?" he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.

Your heart raced. "No," you said, your voice barely steady. "There's nothing."

You swallowed hard, the weight of your guilt pressing down on you. 

He's too late, you thought to yourself.  .

8:38 PM [New Message]

[Play]

[Automated: Playing Voicemail from 'Makima']

"Hello. I'm sorry for calling so late. I hope I didn't disturb you. I wanted to speak with you at your earliest convenience. I have some concerns about one of my new recruits, and I'm uncertain that he will function well in his group. Would it be possible to request you for backup? You did such great work last time, and I know you won't fail me. A little help would be greatly appreciated, at least until we recover from the tremendous losses we just suffered. Thank you, again, for all that you do. Please call me back and let me know if you're available this week. Again, all expenses will be paid. Goodbye."

[Automated: You have no new messages.] .

The work week dragged on, each day blurring into the next. Every task felt like a mountain to climb, your thoughts repeatedly drifting back to Tokyo and the emotional whirlwind you'd left behind.

A few days later, as you stood in the kitchen, the aroma of cooking filling the room, you decided it was time to share your news. Your husband walked in, his mood noticeably sour.

"I've got news," you said, trying to sound casual as you stirred the pot on the stove. "I'm being reassigned to Tokyo again."

His eyes narrowed immediately. "Tokyo? Again? What is this, some kind of joke?"

"It's not a joke," you said, turning to face him. "It's a new assignment from Makima."

"Makima's orders?" he echoed, his voice rising in frustration. "So you're just going to pack up and leave again? How many times do I have to watch you walk out that door?"

"It's not like that," you said, struggling to keep your voice steady. "This is a work assignment. It's out of my control."

"Out of your control?" he snapped. "Its your job. You can say no."

"I didn't want to," You said. "I would be getting paid almost double. What did you want me to do?"

"Quit, like I've been telling you to do for the past few years," He replied. "When are you going to let me take care of you? I could make you a stay at home wife. You don't need this job."

You. A housewife. You, being trapped inside of the house all day – all of your ambitions and dreams and achievements being reduced to your status as a homemaker. That wasn't your life. It wasn't what you wanted for yourself.

Why wouldn't he take the hint?

"I'm not gonna quit. I want to work," you said, feeling a pang of defensiveness. "I need to go to Tokyo for said work. To get paid more. It's not about escaping you."

"You don't even see how you're doing exactly that. Run off, then. Go back to Tokyo."

"It's not like that," you said, trying to explain. "Life's been overwhelming. I'm not trying to run off, I just–"

"Overwhelming?" he scoffed. "You were full of energy over there. You had time for everyone else but none left for me."

Dick.

"It wasn't like that!" you said, your frustration bubbling over. "I was catching up with friends. It was a chance to get away from all of this. You cant– I won't let you criticize me for having a life outside of this marriage."

"Is that what you call it?" he snapped. "A life outside of our marriage? While I'm stuck here, waiting for my wife to come home, barely even recognizing her when she does?"

"That's not fair," you said, tears welling up. "I care about you. But it's been hard for me, too. I've been dealing with a lot."

"Dealing with a lot?" he repeated, his face reddening. "Do you even realize how distant you've become? We barely have sex anymore. We hardly talk. What kind of marriage is this?"

"I don't know," you admitted, feeling the sting of his words. "I'm tired. Maybe I would want to fuck you if you... I dunno... maybe, helped me out once in a while. You never even lift a finger around here. I'm working just as hard as you, and yet you are the one who gets to come home to a home-cooked meal."

"This wouldn't be an issue if you just quit," he shot back, taking a step closer. "But you're too busy being an independent woman, right? I own this house. It's in my name."

"I pay half of the bills," You added.

"But it's my house," He corrected you. "On paper, it belongs to me. Don't get out of line."

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" you said, your voice breaking. "I wish you would stop– fucking– pointing fingers at me for once and realize that there's a bigger issue here. We're struggling, and I don't– it's not my job to fix us."

"You can't fix shit. This is us," he said, his voice growing colder. "This is marriage. The difference between me and you is that I'm stuck dealing with this mess while you run off and live your life. How am I supposed to just accept that?"

"You don't have to accept it," you said, frustration rising. "But you need to understand that I'm not doing this to hurt you. I need to have a life of my own."

"A life of your own," he echoed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "It seems like you're more interested in escaping the life you have than in fixing what's broken between us."

"Stop it," you said, your anger flaring. You set your spoon down on the stove, turned the burner off, and turned to face the man you were supposed to love. "This conversation is over."

"I don't get it," he said, his eyes darkening. "Are you happier away from me? Are you saying that you're not interested in being here, in working on our relationship?"

"That's not what I'm saying," you said, lip quivering with anger. "But I can't just flip a switch and make everything perfect. I'm trying. You can't wall me up inside this house and expect me to be your bitch forever. I want to– I need to have a life."

"Be grateful for the life I gave you," he spat, his voice harsh and final, dripping with hatred and venom. It could not have been more apparent. Your husband hated you. "I'm the one who provides for you. I'm the reason you have a home and a life. Without me, you'd have nothing."

"Even with you, I have nothing," you laughed humorlessly. "There's nothing here. Nothing between us. I'm starting to believe I shouldn't have married you to begin with. Lord knows we were fine before, but you just had to settle down in the countryside."

You froze. The coldness of your own words cut through the air like ice. Before you could take it back, apologize, even, his hand lashed out, striking you across the face. The shock of the blow left you reeling, your cheek stinging with pain.

He spoke slowly, like he was sounding it out. His eyes wide, he apologized– "Honey, wait, I–"

"Fuck you," you whispered, the tears falling freely now. 

You turned on your heel and fled to your room, your heart pounding.

Inside, you slammed the door and leaned against it, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts. The pain in your cheek was sharp, but you forced yourself to focus on something else. 

You began unpacking your suitcase, using the physical task to distract yourself from the emotional turmoil.

You tugged the zipper open, revealing neat piles of folded clothes. You began to pull them out, laying at the foot of your bed. As you reached the bottom of the suitcase, you uncovered the painting Aki had gifted you, carefully wrapped in bubble wrap. 

You unwrapped it slowly, revealing the vibrant colors and delicate brushstrokes. The painting was a tangible piece of Tokyo, a reminder of a time when you had felt truly alive – the flowers in the field. The strong tree. The blue sky, and the warm, warm sun.

It had no place in your home.

Your room felt cold and impersonal, a stark contrast to the warmth of the painting. You knew it didn't belong here, in this bedroom that felt more like a prison than a home – with gray walls and gray floors. But as you looked at the painting, a deep longing settled in your chest.

You glanced around the room, your eyes landing on a framed photo of you and your husband. It was one that had been taken at your wedding reception. He was grinning ear to ear, holding you close to his side. You were smiling, too, face smeared with cake – hopeful for your future with the man you loved.

Without hesitation, you took it down and replaced it with the painting. As you hung it up, you felt a rush of warmth spread through your chest, a flicker of happiness amid the darkness.

Standing back, you admired the painting. For a brief moment, the pain and anger seemed to melt away, replaced by the comforting memory of Aki. Oddly enough, staring at the painting long enough, you felt as if you could almost feel his presence, smell his warm cologne whipped together with the scent of the nicotine that lingered on his uniform. You felt as if you could practically feel him behind you, hands resting on your waist, soft lips pressing tender kisses to the valley of your neck.

And, only then did you really grasp the gravity of your situation. You were fucked. Completely and totally fucked.

Aki's text from the train sat heavy and unanswered still in your pocket. A week had passed, and you hadn't dared to text him back. 

You didn't need to open it to know what it said. You had stared at it for so long that the image was practically ingrained into your memory.

I hope I get to see you again soon.

Get home safe.

You shouldn't. You knew you shouldn't. But you could feel the weight of your phone in your pocket, the weight of your desire rearing its ugly head during a moment of weakness, and you couldn't help yourself. Before you could stop and think twice about it, you were flipping your phone open and browsing your contact book, pressing 'ok' on a name you most definitely should have deleted by now.

The phone rang once. Twice. A third time. 

Then it clicked.

"Hello?"

"Hey," You exhaled, relieved that your call had gone through. You crossed your legs, plopping down onto the bed.

"Hey, troublemaker."

The wave of heat that washed over you at the sound of his voice was uncanny. He filled you with a fantastic sort of giddiness that you hadn't felt in years – you didn't even care that your husband was about to eat dinner in the next room, just as he didn't seem to care that you had been M.I.A. for the past week.

In his typical fashion, he made you forget about your surroundings. Right then, it was just you and him, and that's all that mattered.

"Did you miss me?" Aki asked.

"Only a little," You replied. You couldn't help but smile. "What are you up to right now? Do you have time to talk?"

"Of course. I always have time for you," He answered warmly. His voice was deep and tender, and it made you melt all over the bed. "I'm laying in bed right now. Just had a smoke. How did you know I was thinking about you?"

There were so many things you wanted to say to him – I miss you, come get me, he hit me. I need you – and yet you couldn't help but bask in the comforting silence.

"Lucky guess," you said, feeling the warmth spread through your chest. "I've been thinking about you too. What's it like there? Anything exciting?"

"It's Tokyo," he said with a lazy lilt to his voice. He sounded tired, as he always did. It was endearing. "Could be better, but honestly, I'd trade it all just to be with you right now."

You felt a shiver of excitement at his words. The warmth of his voice and the lightness of the conversation made you forget, if only for a moment, the coldness of your current reality.

You knew it was bad. Still, you grinned, rolling onto your stomach while you took the call, kicking your feet.

"So, what's the weather like there?" You asked, trying to keep the tone light but unable to mask the undercurrent of flirtation.

You would say anything if it meant you would get to hear his voice a little longer.

"Warm, surprisingly," Aki replied, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone."Have you been holding up okay over there? You haven't spoken to me in a week."

"Probably for the better," you said, a laugh escaping you. "Even now, I shouldn't be talking to you. I'm sitting here in this freezing room, and your words are the only thing warming me up."

"Good," he said, his tone suggestive. "Maybe one day soon I can warm you up in person. Until then, just know I'm thinking about you."

You rested your head on the bed, the phone pressed to your ear, feeling as if you were floating in the warmth of his words. Despite the rational part of your mind telling you to be cautious, you found yourself lost in the conversation, savoring every last moment you could.

"Are you still there?" Aki's voice came through, warm and inviting, like a soft blanket in the coolness of your room.

"Yeah," you replied, settling into the bed, propping yourself up with pillows. "I'm still here. Just... don't want to hang up."

"Glad to hear it," he said, his tone teasing. "I'm not ready to let go of you either. What are you thinking about?"

You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest. "Just thinking about how nice it is to hear your voice. It's been such a rough day, and talking to you made me feel a little better."

"Wanna talk about it?" Aki asked softly. "I've been thinking about you like crazy."

"Really?" you asked. "What do you see when you think of me?"

Aki chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down your spine. "I see me and you – in that little black dress of yours – and the way your kisses tasted."

You felt a flush of warmth at his words, the intensity of your feelings bubbling up. "You probably shouldn't," you admitted. "You'll catch feelings."

"You're making it hard to stay focused on anything but you," Aki said, his voice growing more serious. 

You laughed softly. "You're good at this, you know. Making me feel like I'm the only person in the world."

"That's because you are," he said earnestly. "For me, anyway. Wanna talk about your day?"

You shifted in bed, pulling the blankets around you as if trying to draw closer to him through the phone. "I don't really feel like talking about it."

Aki's voice was tender and soothing. "That's fine. Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?"

"I don't know," You sighed, the sound a mix of contentment and longing. You felt weak. "I just want to hear your voice. I need you."

"I need you too," he said, his voice softening. "I had a dream about you, you know? It felt like I was back in that hotel room with you again, watching you get ready to go home," A pause, then he added, "I should've made you miss that train."

You closed your eyes, letting the image of a shirtless Aki slipping into his work slacks flood your memory. "You're terrible."

He's one fine piece of ass.

Aki's laugh was deep and gentle, like the tides of the ocean tugging at the shore. "I am. I'm a terrible, rotten man, and it's all your fault. Have you been thinking about me, too?"

You glanced at the painting on the wall, feeling a pang of an emotion you couldn't quite place, "More than I'd like to admit."

"Hold on, I just heard something break in the kitchen. I think my nightmare roommate is up," Aki said. "I have to hang up. Promise you'll text and call more often, though. I've been worried sick."

"I promise," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, your face flushed like you were a lovestruck schoolgirl. "Goodnight, Aki."

"Goodnight, troublemaker," he replied softly. "I'll be dreaming of you."

a/n: oh nooooooo... what do yall think is gonna happen? (i know, but yk....). but actually i hope you loved it, I loved writing sexy phone aki ugh it makes me wanna write more of him. I hope you all dont hate me too much for keeping them apart. (i'll make it up to u soon, trust.) anyway, QOTD: wyd if you were y/n? x

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

[urf1lterr]

lovesick | pedro pascal [3]

"and on this night and in this light i think im falling, im falling for you."

next chapter: [4] previous chapter: [2] series masterlist

summary: in which a 1975-obsessed film student accidentally falls in love with an older man she can't have.

pairing: actor!pedro x intern!reader

genre: acting world!au, big age-gap!, strangers to friends- maybe lovers?? au | angst, mature, awkward, love- eventually

word count: 5.7k

status: in progress

author's note: in my head i have a certain way this story ends- but thats farrrr from this chapter. i couldn't stop laughing while writing this. i might have to rethink my ending bc i don't wanna make this series looooong. not edited.

Brutal banging on your bedroom door was not how you imagined to be awakened, especially when you were barely endearing maybe four hours of sleep.

Jolting up, you could feel your shoulders begin to ache as your severely tangled hair got stuck on the insides of your shirt. The shades in your room being shut, you had no sunlight whatsoever so you weren't sure what time it was.

Not like you needed to be anywhere important on a Wednesday- not until later anyway. Wednesday's were your arranged day off from school so you made sure to plan something productive to not feel more useless as you already were.

Typically, you were scheduled to work on these days- but we all know how that ended.

Thinking about your unemployment status aggravated you. The same day you were told you were going to be cut was actually your last despite being scheduled for the rest of that remaining week.

Oh how you wish you could say you didn't show up because of your stubbornness.

But frankly you had covid.

Not only did that job fire you, but they gave you a thoughtful farewell gift of a deadly virus to remember them goodbye.

Guess they took their storyline a little too seriously.

However, you did receive a few texts from your old coworkers wishing you well. At first, you wondered if Finn disclosed your personal medical information after you contacted him, but Jules admitted to doing so, swearing she only told Joon with the likelihood someone overheard and the rest was history.

Sadly, you barely talked to Pedro and Bella anymore.

The duo did reach out once they discovered you were sick and Bella would occasionally send you tiktoks at the most randomly times. But again, occasionally.

Pedro, on the other hand, never got back in touch after his 'feel better' text.

You weren't exactly distraught over it, it wasn't like you two made it your mission as friends to go out every day. But the thing was, you still did that when you worked together. Barely seeing him for a few seconds on some days in the past still meant you got to see him, but now you don't.

And strangely you miss him.

You always heard your coworkers discuss how considerate and down to Earth he was whenever they managed to work with him and you agreed. All the stories of him being one of the rarest, mindful human beings were true.

He was always the one spamming you with texts, but the only messages you received now were from your roommate, Joon, or the deals sent by your favorite food places.

But you weren't going to think too much of it. He's an adult, his days are always scheduled with new projects. You can't blame him for not making time for you.

Two weeks later here you were, using your extra free time to your advantage to stay up past midnight watching shows like Hell's Kitchen while eating ramen noodles.

The only con was you had the tendency to wake up late all the time.

Yanking the warm covers off your body, you slowly slip out of bed trying not to hit your desk by how poor your vision was at the moment. Opening your door, you give daggers to the other person behind it. "Is there a reason why you felt attempting to break my door was necessary?"

Jules sheepishly smiled, lightly rubbing the door in remorse before continuing. "I just wanted to remind you about our study date!"

"That's at 11."

"It's 10:32," she replied, pulling her phone out and showing you.

Gasping, you shut the door in her face before searching for clothes to wear. How could you possibly sleep in?

Actually, it was quite easy with American Horror Story having amazing plot twists. You decided to switch up your late night shows every now and then to spice things up.

But you were certain you turned on your alarm the night before. You must have slept through them. Damn, you were turning into Jules.

Quickly running to the bathroom to take a quick shower, you managed to finish the rest of your routine with ten minutes left to spare. You were certainly glad you could always count on the city's nonstop traffic as an excuse for your late arrivals.

Once you were able to catch a cab, which was a tremendous struggle considering your hand signals weren't clear enough to apprehend, Jules and you made it to a coffee shop a few streets away.

Being your designated place to study, you had to introduce Joon to it. He was practically the fifth member of the group, the third one being one of Jules' friend you frequently talked to and the fourth being the one you shared with Joon.

The best part about this cafe would have to be that it was two stories. You guess you could say you used the upstairs room conveniently when it came to debating, definitely not being afraid to raise your voice when your friends believed disagreeing with your opinions was acceptable.

"I didn't know a triple meant three shots of espresso," Joon pulled a disgusted face as Jules and you arrived to your familiar large booth. Sliding right next to him, you saw the coffee he was drinking was extremely dark. "I thought it meant three shots of creamer."

"For a guy who is phenomenally smart, you are phenomenally stupid," you heard your shared friend, Yoongi, comment after looking up from his notes.

The next hour consisted of the five of you centralizing your attention on your individual work before you decided you wanted to buy a coffee as your energy slowly drained away.

Walking down the stairs and placing a swift order, you stood to the side of the counter waiting as they prepared it. Scrolling through your phone to pass the short time, you felt someone near you.

"Hey, covid girl!" you heard a man exclaim, causing you to rush and shush him before the customers begin giving you the eye. "Long time no see."

"Don't expose me like that! I'm negative," you flush, tapping your fingers on your face to cool it down.

"Don't expose me," he clarifies, taking two steps back. "You're the one who's sick."

"Was," you groan, not standing for his teasing this morning. "Stop messing me with me, Nick. I am just a tired, broke college student who can't take anymore mocking in their life."

Nick chuckles, not denying that may be the case. He understands how you're feeling, he was once a student and knows how stressful it can be. Honestly, he can only imagine how tough it is now compared to when he last attended.

Inflation was no joke.

"I take it you're studying?" he eyes the large black frames on your head and the thick headphones around your neck. You only nod, making him laugh. "Very studious I see, it's a shame they let you go even after I told them not to. You could've done our taxes."

Pulling a forced smile, you just raise your right shoulder slightly not really wanting to talk about it much.

"Good thing I am very understanding," you joke.

"Hell, I wouldn't be," he curses, shaking his head briskly. "The least they could've done was offer another position while we left the country."

"When are you guys leaving anyway?'"

He looks up at the ceiling, trying hard to remember the exact date before clapping his hands. "The 3rd of next month."

"Three weeks from now? Are you ready for the cold and the snow?" you laugh as he shakes his head.

"Dealt with it growing up, don't wanna do it again," he groans before a barista calls out his name for his coffee. He excuses himself for a minute, grabbing the coffee along with a few napkins before walking back to you. "Have to get back to filming, they only gave me a half an hour break before we change scenes. Good look in university, kiddo. If you ever need anything you always have my number."

With that, he retreated back outside but not before sending you one final wave. You loathed the fact you missed them, but you had to get over it.

Grabbing your coffee once your name was called, you walked back up the stairs to find your friends staring at their own laptops as if they were going to breakdown in tears any second.

"When I tell you I would rather give up one of kidneys than learn about screenwriting," Jules weeps, pulling her hair in distress. "I just wanna tell people what to do, not write stories."

And that's how your whole study session went, one of you having your own malfunctions for the next few hours before the five of you agreed to end it.

"I am going to get a refill, meet you by the door?" Jules asked as you packed up your school belongings. You nodded, allowing her to walk downstairs with her friend as you stayed behind with the two other boys.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Joon called out as the three of you were making your way down the stairs. "I'll be out in a jiffy."

With that, Yoongi and you were stuck around a large crowd of customers trying to get their coffees in this 5 o'clock chilly evening. And one thing about these customers, they loved to push.

"If one more person hits my arm a brawl will unfold," Yoongi proclaims, making sure to raise his voice a bit to make his point come across. Which did nothing as he was granted another push in his arm in return.

Moving you head towards the exit, you made it clear to Yoongi that you two were better off just waiting outside unless you wanted to continue being compressed by total strangers whose been god knows where.

Feeling Yoongi's loss of touch from your shoulder, you sensed a group of friends rudely crossing between you both in order to make it to the front of the shop.

It amazed you how people had no manners in public places.

"Ah!" you shriek, feeling somebody aimlessly hit your body hard, knocking the wind out of you as you fell on your side.

That was until arms wrapped tightly under your upper arms, barely being able to stop your whole body from touching the ground as you felt you legs lay across the cold floor.

With the strong pair of arms effectively pulling you up, it caused you to slam your body against their unknown chest as the mob of customers didn't seem to die down any time soon.

Trying to find some stability, your eyes widened as your peripheral vision was met with a broad chest that you were too scared to figure discover who it belonged to.

This could either end with you meeting the love of you life or encountering a complete weirdo.

Moving your gaze upwards, you were met with familiar brown eyes that creased slightly as a gentle smile was released.

Okay, the second option was indeed your answer.

"Pedro? You fucking scared me!" you pushed him away, slapping his chest as he whined in response, clutching it in pain. "I was going to grab my pepper spray!"

"I see you're still satan," he glared as you crossed your arms. "No 'thank you for saving my severely mentally mad life from the mass of people who could've stamped over me'?"

Expressing an infuriated expression as he scared you, you begin to walk away from him but he quickly pulls you back into his arms and stares down at you. "Why are you leaving?"

"My friends are outside," you declare as he peers over the crowd to see who you were talking about.

He glances back down at you before pushing you straight by your waist, causing you to trust his guidance as he directed you backwards until you were against one of the walls to avoid being crushed again.

"Wait, my friends-"

"You wear glasses?" he slightly grasps the frames propped on your face, generating a strike from you. "What a dweeb you are."

"Isn't this a question you can ask through text?" you remark, causing him to purse his lips at how mediocre you were being.

"Oh come on, kid! I haven't seen you in weeks, it's my right to ask questions," he defends, giving you a staggering look as you sighed.

"And my glasses were the first thing that came to mind? Very clever."

"Would you rather me ask why we say 'cool' when it's not really cold?"

Studying his face in pure boredom, you set out to march past him but he pushes your shoulders back again, forcing you to stay put. "Sorry! Just trying to lighten the mood."

Scanning past him, you tried to locate your friends but to no luck they were absent. Glancing back up at him, you take a deep breath. "I really have to go before they leave me stranded a-."

"I can take you home," he instantly speaks up. "I know where you live remember."

Laughing, you disagree with his proposal. You arrived with Jules, you were leaving with her. But you were curious as to why he hasn't left you alone. It surely couldn't be just to chat about corny jokes-

Actually, you've had many of those conversions in the past.

"Is there a reason why you aren't letting me escape?" you blurt out, making him tilt his head suspiciously, trying to figure out what you were speculating.

His body language became edgy as he motioned his palm out in front of you. "I just so happened to drop by for some coffee and ended up being tackled by you," he confessed, making you scoff. "We haven't talked for some time, I wanted to check up and see how you were doing."

"I am as happy as a clam," you let out a radiant smile, making him squint his eyes and direct them to the side.

"English, please?" he pleaded.

"It means I am very happy," you respond, standing up straighter as he questioned you longer with his eyes as if he didn't believe a single word you were saying. "Everybody knows that expression."

"They really don't," he denies, giving you an awkward smile by your strange dialogue. "Anywho, I've been wanting to talk to you."

"Then why didn't you call?" you accidentally spit out, shutting your mouth as you grasped how bitter it came out.

He caught onto the sound of your tone, registering how unhappy you must've been for abandoning you friendship after strongly bonding for two months.

But he couldn't let you believe he did it on purpose, he had a reason. One that he was finally going to disclose after fighting battles until it was finally approved. "I was preoccupied with something else, I really am sorry," he apologized. "But I was going to reach out today."

Uncomfortably shrugging, you don't put too much thought into it. You didn't want him to assume you were upset, but you had a feeling he could sense it by how tense you were becoming.

"For what?"

He looked around before averting his eyes back to your own, grinning widely. "So I think there's a chance you'd be able to get your internship back."

Standing up straighter, you stared at him dumbfounded. What the hell was he talking about?

"How? They already terminated our useless contracts," you argue. "Why hassle making another one."

"Work for me," he ignores your sour tone, getting straight to the point.

This was why he didn't have time to communicate. Too busy trying to find ways to convince his own boss to keep you, it led to him being in a bad mood after failing each attempt.

He couldn't talk to you knowing his plan went wrong.

After the constant begging, whines, and even going out of his way to format a ridiculous petition as to why you should stay, which centers all interns because he didn't want to throw himself under the bus for you- the main producer eventually gave in.

"You want me to work for you here when you're leaving the country in a few weeks?" you narrow your eyes, confused as to how that was going to work out in the end.

"I was going to sneak you into my suitcase."

"What in the world are you rambling about?" you exhaled sharply.

Pedro grinned brightly as he held onto your shoulders again, "Come with us to Canada."

"No," you quickly answer, not even processing fully but you knew it could never happen.

There was no possible way you could ever go through with this. For one, you can't even leave the country. You parents were so strict they'll probably smuggle drugs in your luggage so you'll be gunned down and locked into the country.

Second, well there really isn't another reason- your parents were enough.

"Oh come on," he whined. "It'll be great! You'll gain so much experience like you've been wanting. Plus, you'd do more hands-on work with the film crew. Think of it as a student exchange program."

"That's literally not what a student exchange program is."

"Stop rejecting the idea. You go to school here, yeah? I assume you're taking classes online because you basically lived at the studio," he implied and you slowly nodded. "We can adjust your schedule to where you'd have time to work and focus on school."

Silently looking to the table nearby, you began digesting what he was going on about. It wasn't a bad idea, but it wasn't an easy one either. "My parents would never let me."

"Give me their number and I'll convince them," he persuades and you sway you head. You wanted to laugh in his face if he really believed he could make your parents agree.

"No," you fight back, watching him exhale loudly by how restrained you were being. "I k-"

"What would Matt Healy do?"

Immediately shutting your mouth, you freeze as he catches you off guard. He did not come to play and knew you well enough to use your weaknesses against you.

He knows Matt Healy would easily agree- that man was literally the devil's spawn.

And god, you just knew Matt would be disappointed in you if you didn't go.

Curse you and your infatuation over this short English man.

Luckily, your thoughts disappeared as you felt a tap on your arm. Looking up, you see Yoongi breathing heavily as Pedro eyes him, unsure if you knew him.

"There you are, I've been looking for you everywhere! My god the lecture your friend gave me about losing you-" he groaned, shivering. "-I was certain she was gonna file a police report."

Slowly averting his eyes to the older man beside you, Yoongi's face fills with curiosity. "Hey, aren't you that one guy from that Netflix show..." he stops, looking up as he tried hard remembering the name. "Narcos!"

Pedro's eyes shoot open as he tries to innocently stretch his body, purposely blocking your view of him, "No." Secretly waving his palm across his neck, he sends Yoongi daggers to keep quiet. Stiffly turning to you, he becomes flustered. "But don't watch that show."

Raising a brow, you decide to drop the random topic and focus your attention back to your friend until you heard another person shriek. The three of you searching to where it came from, you find Namjoon stumble between people, trying his hardest not to fall face first on the floor.

"A jiffy later and I'm back," Joon winks once he's released from the mass.

Pedro scrunches his face. "Jiffy?"

Joon breaks out into smiles once he notices who was with Yoongi and you. "Oh my gosh! What are you doing here? Did you miss us that much?"

"I don't think it was you he missed," Yoongi muttered, making Pedro send him a questionable glance and Joon tilt his head, not sure what he meant.

Wanting to leave this now weirder conversation, you step forward and grab onto Yoongi's shoulder. "Let's go, I wanna breathe." Turning your attention back to Pedro, he swiftly moved his eyes from your hand to your own. "Text me if you need anything else."

"Only you," he sends you a cheeky smile making you blush by how nice he was being. Yoongi glanced at the two of you, dazed as what you two were implying.

Staring at him, you waited for him to say his farewells first so everybody could leave already. Waiting for one, you never received anything but his quiet stance and gaze stuck on you.

It felt strange not feeling the strength to walk away- not even the strength but the need to go anymore as you couldn't take your eyes off him. It also wasn't only you as he couldn't help but bear comfort from the sight of you.

It felt like the both of you were interacting to each other in your minds.

"Are you having a staring contest?" Joon questioned, making your your consciousness come back to life as you looked back at him. Pedro's gaze weakened, but they were still on you as yours was unfortunately long forgotten.

"No," you laughed, now gripping onto Yoongi harder. "But seriously, let's get out of here. See you whenever, Pedro."

Watching as you stayed close to your guy friends in hopes of being secured through the populated room, he sighed to himself. He was sure your friends might confess their own intuitions to you and perceive him as a creep.

The sad part was he knew why your particular friend would have his suspicions. He never knew his age would have that much of an effect, but he never hung out with people that young before unless it was for a project.

Shaking these thoughts away from his head, he chuckled to himself. He shouldn't care about what other people thought, the two of you never engaged in anything but friendly encounters.

He just despised his gut feeling as if he was doing something wrong. People are making him feel this way, that was guaranteed.

But he feels awful how he keeps trying to find ways to see you, too embarrassed to think about the things he done just to see you for not even a minute.

He's just never had a friend like you before. It was nice.

"I can't believe he's offering us a job like that!" Jules exclaimed as Joon and you nodded. Yoongi lived in the opposite direction so he made his departure a few minutes ago as well as her friend. "I can't go."

Widening your eyes, you stared at her. "What? Why?"

She laughs before pointing at herself. "You think I'll be able to properly manage school and work in another country? I barely did that these last two months- I'll just be partying it up at hockey games eating gravy with fries."

"You mean poutine," Joon corrected.

"Same thing," she rolled her eyes. "All I'm saying is, being home made me realize how much I love sleeping. I would rather give that up when I graduate and actually have a real adult job."

She did have a point, she really enjoyed her naps.

"I'll consider it," Joon spoke up, putting his hands inside his hoodie as the three of you continued walking. "Doesn't sound too bad, it'll look good on resumes."

Smiling, you nodded. You weren't sure why you even dared to be happy about this when you were the one wanting nothing to do with the idea not even a half an hour ago.

You just knew your lord was giving you a disapproving glare from the clouds.

Within the next 20 minutes, Joon went his separate way home as Jules and you arrived in front of your shared apartment. Rushing to the bathroom, your roommate excused herself for the next hour for her 'needed' relaxation.

In other words, a bubble bath.

Turning on the tv, you sat down on the couch swiping through boring news channels until you decided to switch to Netflix. You still had to make time for Evan Peters before the night ended.

Clicking on the current season you were on, Freak Show, you began thinking about how massive Evan Peter's hands were. How can his girlfriends survive.

The thought freaked you out, this really was a freak show.

Soon, the next episode began featuring Twisty the clown more and you were terrified by how huge he was. He could crush you with a flick of his fingers.

Knocks on your door alarmed you, making you slightly jump and look towards the bathroom. Your roommate's music was softly playing in the background meaning she probably couldn't hear the blows on the door.

Slowly standing up, you grab the bat you keep near the door, in case someone tries viciously murdering you in your doorway, and go on your tiptoes to see what kind of stranger needed to pay a visit in the middle of the night.

Well, it wasn't even 7 o'clock in the evening yet but you get the point.

Gasping at the sight presented through your little peep hole, you promptly unlock the handles before extending the large door wide. "And why exactly are you here? Miss me that much?" you tease.

Not receiving an answer, you scoff. "Are you really giving me the silent treatment? You're hurting my feelings."

When he didn't react to that either, you felt your face drop. Slowly striding towards him, you notice his head was low as he stared at his shoes. Placing your right palm softly on his left shoulder, you felt him glance up.

Did something happen during your short time apart? Was he in trouble?

Knowing it was really you in front of him, Pedro lunged his body onto yours before you could stop and think about what was happening. Colliding his lips upon yours, you felt your thoughts drift away as he steadily moved forward and made his way inside your warm apartment.

Stopping to swiftly shut the door, you had no time to take in a full breathe before his mouth found yours again. Clutching the back of his head, probably pulling his hair out, you groan as his nails claw your exposed waist, your shirt slowly inching up more and more as the seconds went up. Slipping his tongue inside you, you felt the way his nose hit yours as dominance took over.

He wanted to control all of you.

It wasn't until your legs began wobbling from the long standing when his hands lost your waist, instantly making contact with the back of your thighs, squeezing them, soon allowing them to suffocate his sides. Following his lead, you pull your lips back before diving them to the corner of his jaw as he groaned, walking to god knows where.

You figured out where once you shrieked as your back made contact with your couch, his palms widening your legs in a hurry before situating himself on top of you. Surprisingly, the difference of weight wasn't an issue as he clinged harder against you, moving his hand behind your neck to pull it down, making sure to make you feel the pain of the slight hair tugging.

"What are y-" you softly choke, voice coming out in whimpers as he ignored you. Latching his lips to the top of your chin, he stuck his tongue out, dragging it gradually down your neck as your back arched, needing to feel closer to him if that was even possible. Your wish was his command as he hastily pressed himself against you, making you groan in surprise.

Making his way lower, he passes your neck down to your chest while his hands found their to your collarbone, smoothly rubbing the area up and down before clutching onto it harshly as he continue down his path. Something about the way his soft fingertips applying pressure near your neck as his lips kept kissing the rest of your body had you in wonders. You couldn't believe this was happening.

It wasn't until you felt his mouth near your exposed waist that made you completely lose it. You had long forgotten that Jules was in the room next door when you gasped, feeling his teeth swipe against your skin. "Shhh," he whispered against your lips as a way to silence you. "Don't want to let your friend know I'm here now, do we?"

You could only stammer shaky sounds as he planted a few more deep kisses, slowly pulling away and feeling the wetness of both your mouths descend down. He gave you one last dark gaze before returning his mouth on yours, loving the feeling of the dampness between your faces.

His mouth opening wider, he began intensively tasting you, swiping his tongue around your lips as you tried to keep up with his eagerness. Not giving you much time to catch his pace, you could feel how wet he was making you.

No, he was literally drowning your face.

Pulling back, you squint your eyes and take a few seconds to adjust to the poor lighting in your living room. You were met with dark, green eyes.

Lady Gaga.

Shrieking, you grab the black, green-eyed demon on top of you and throw her off, causing her to let out a loud hiss with the immediate sounds of footsteps following afterwards.

"Lady Gaga!" you hear Jules squeal in her pink robe, wrapping the nauseating cat in her arms before turning to you, giving you a look of rage. "Did you throw her?!"

"She licked me!"

Jules scoffed harshly before hurling a nearby pillow at you, allowing it to hit your face in full force before stomping back to her door and violently slamming it shut.

You fucking hated that cat.

Laying back against the couch, you rubbed your red face in humiliation. Not only did you have an intense dream about Pedro but you're pretty sure you just had a full on make-out session with a cat.

Groaning, you couldn't believe what was happening to you. Why would you dream about him-

No- why would you have one doing not so child friendly activities?!

You just know you'll never be able to face him with a straight face, too embarrassed to even be near him now without thinking about this moment.

It wasn't even like you thought about him in that way- you didn't.

Maybe your time of the month was approaching or you were in desperate need of a date because there's no way any normal human being would fantasize over some older man that way.

Okay, maybe it was possible.

But that was definitely not you...even though you just did. Although, you did see the comparison between him and Lady Gaga.

They looked kind of alike- right? Same whiskers.

One thing that was certain was you were never going to tell anybody about this. If people believed for one second you had feelings for him, which you don't, you'll never hear the end of it.

He was not your type nor close to your age. It would never happen.

Sighing, you close your eyes and silently send out a prayer to not engage in another session with the demonic cat. Maybe sleep will make you think clearly once awoken and abolish all these wild concepts floating through your head.

But once you were actually awoken, your mind still wasn't clear- or maybe it was because the pounding on your door ultimately pulled you from your slumber.

Stretching your arms, you scratch the top of your head as you try to open your eyes but it was no use, you were way too tired to fully engage with anybody right now.

Completely avoiding looking through the peep hole, which was a red flag on your part, you swing the door open to find a man who looked like Pedro standing on the other side of it.

Groaning aloud, you slap yourself as he takes this by surprised, not sure why you just did that.

How are you having another dream about him? Was this the bad luck needed after scoring tickets to your favorite band? Is this some kind of sick revenge someone has against you?

Pointing at Lady Gaga, who was dressed up as Pedro, you rudely spit out the words needed to be said. "You are just a cat. Nothing happened between us."

With that, you step back inside, ignoring Lady Gaga's attempts of trying to gain your attention by waving their arms in front of you. Making your way to your room, you see Jules walk out of hers.

"Who was that at the door?" she questions, hearing another round of knocks appear.

You tiredly wave your hand in nonsense, denying that thought. "It was Lady Gaga, go back to bed."

Jules sends you a bewildered look as you enter your bedroom and face-plant on your cozy bed, allowing sleep to reel you back in. Turning her head, she looks at Lady Gaga who was sitting casually by her bedroom door.

"She is turning fucking nuts," she whispers to herself before swiftly opening the door to reveal a very confused Pedro. "What's up?"

Pedro's concerned face takes over his actions as he jumps to his eager questions. "Is y/n okay? She thought I was a cat."

Jules shrugs, rubbing her eyes with her palm. "Who knows, I think she's getting over her coffee hangover."

Pedro carefully nods, still skeptical as to what happened to you. What did you mean nothing happened between you two? Did something happen that he wasn't aware of?

Were you hiding something from him?

Gracelessly gesturing his leave, Pedro walked quickly down the hall as Jules stood there for a moment too tired to comprehend why he paid the apartment a visit this early in the morning. The sun was barely out, why did he come?

After shutting the door and taking a seat on the couch, she laid back and stared at the ceiling. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but for some reason a strange intellect emerged out of nowhere.

She shrugged it off, instantaneously knocking out, too exhausted to conquer her suspicions.

+

taglist: @thesapphirequeen @floralsightings @wrathofcats

[sparklingsora]

Hi. I would like to know many things about your roleswap au bc I love it very much but I have no idea what to ask I just want to know many things bc my brain has been consumed already

uhhhhh I guess can you lore dump a little bit on backstories? Idk I just wanna know everything about this au

I will be back in your ask box for this au several times most likely

-Spaghetti Brain Anon

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK!!! i am SO glad that i could get this au to live in someone else's brain rent free too. all i could ever ask for in life tbh i guess i'll infodump about character backstories, dynamics, character arcs, all that juicy stuff putting it under cut because HO BOY THIS IS GONNA GET LONG

as a heads up, take the timeframes i give you with a grain of salt, because i still havent completely figured out the timeline so first of all, vox!! he's a sinner, died in the 1950s, as per canon. he's a businessman, but less stable than in canon. he's always jumping from job to job, business to business, which results in him having a lot of connections with various people around hell. soon after arriving in hell, he met and became friends with alastor. cut to, i'd say around 7-10 years before the events of the story? alastor disappears without a trace during an extermination and vox assumes him dead. having now been personally touched by the effects of the extermination, the idea to try and solve overpopulation another way is planted in his head, but wont come to fruition until much later. in the meantime he meets velvette - finds her bleeding out in an alleyway after getting too cocky and trying to fight back to an exorcist (bad idea). he nurses her back to health, they become friends and eventually start dating, yada yada yada. one day vox and velvette find a funky little cat (keekee). keekee takes a liking to them and leads them to the old ruins of a building up on the hill on the edge of pentagram city. they figure out that the cat turns into a keyblade that can be used to magically build shit (only the hotel though, as keekee is the spirit of the hotel or??? whatever the hell the canon lore is idk???) vox finally decides to realize his idea to try and solve overpopulation more humanely - through redeeming sinners! his reasoning is, if angels can fall (as proven by lute and charlie), then demons can surely ascend, right? though he's not as sure or idealistic about it as charlie is in canon. he simply thinks it has a chance of working, and opening up a hotel means a bigger sample size than if he were to just try and get into heaven himself or something like that. besides, he wouldnt wanna go to heaven, he likes it here. also, im not sure where this is situated in the timeline yet, but he was in a band with adam, lute and possibly eve at some point? the band is called brimstone eden, as mentioned in the comic i posted. im not sure yet whether he was in the band prior to eve's disappearance or after it (eve disappears 7 years before the story starts to mirror canon lilith). swap!vox, like his canon counterpart, is a very reactive person. he follows trends, he's extremely go-with-the-flow to a fault. he never really had any strong beliefs until the hotel - his character arc mainly involves him gaining something to believe in and learning to fight for that belief, 'ready for this' being more or less the culmination of his arc. jesus christ i cant believe i wrote that much JUST on vox. *slaps the top of his head* this boy can fit so much lore in him

now, velvette... she's how you'd expect her to be. same old brave, arrogant velvette. she's a fashion designer and seamstress and runs a moderately sized business which she promotes on sinstagram. she's mutuals with val there, which is how he finds out about the hotel. there's not much to write home about when it comes to val - it's insane how similar angel and him are. like literally barely anything changes when you swap them, it's very clean. he's a prn star, sold his soul to angel dust, yada yada. though a bit on his dynamic with vox - vox is very good at reading people, and doesn't like being lied to (he's a bit of a hypocrite in that regard - he puts on a facade all the time when in professional settings). he can clearly tell val isnt doing as good as he pretends he is, and wants to help him really badly, but val just sees it as vox pitying him and rejects his help (its what they fight about in ep 4, as a counterpart to the whole "charlie going to the studio" thing bc vox wouldnt do that) and now here's the fun part - ALASTOR! oh, alastor, you beautiful stuck up bitch! so turns out, he's not so dead after all! he ALMOST died in that fateful extermination, but husk found him and offered him a "give me your soul right now or bleed out in this alleyway" type deal. of course alastor chose the former, but boy he's not happy about it. he's extremely ashamed of how far he's fallen. so ashamed, in fact, that he hid from the world for those 7-10 years! yeah! he's only pulled out of hiding when husk summons him to be the bartender for the hotel. vox is of course, extremely bewildered and demands answers. alastor doesnt give them and avoids him instead. it takes a sincere conversation with valentino in ep 4 for alastor to finally talk to vox again and explain himself. alastor is basically in extremely deep denial of just how fucked his life is. he clings onto his radio demon persona like a lifeline bc its the last thing that can help him feel some semblance of control over his situation. his tension with valentino is twofold - first they butt heads because of opposing personalities, and second because they both see the other's bullshittery. it's a clusterfuck it eventually bubbles over in ep 4, they both admit how absolutely fucked they are and are friends now. wish i could say more on al & val bc i love them very much but it seems ive run out of eloquency for now. though i know i'll draw some comics of them eventually so maybe it'll come across better in comic form. anyway as mentioned above ive run out of eloquency and im honestly not sure how coherent this whole thing is so you'll have to come back for the other characters some other time, dear anon! until then, thank you so much for the ask once again, and have a nice day/night :)

[azuphere]

Okay but you still haven’t explained what the glitch theory is, like what does it mean??

omgg lore dump time this is so exciting, more under the cut but the glitch theory basically revolves around this merch from phil from november 2019 !

(re: this ask)

so like at the time, this piece of merch had ppl like 👀👀 bc the concept and the graphic novel vibe and the way it said ‘to be continued’ had ppl thinking this might be a hint at a secret project!

and over the years, phil would keep hinting at wanting to channel his creative energies into a project, and how he'd love to do smth interactive like bandersnatch ! esp in 2019/early-2020:

in 'The Scary Reason I Didn't Buy A House' (april 2019), he said: "I do actually have a story in my head, I'm just not quite sure how I wanna tell it yet. So it could be a book, it could be like a TV series-style screenplay, it could be a movie script. I just need to consolidate all these ideas in my head and turn them into the thing. But I have been thinking about it for about five years, so it's just when the right time is to actually release the ideas."

in 'draw my life: part 2' (august 2019), he said: "maybe for the next secret big project, it's time for Philly to think about the big dreams he's always had! [...] What I've always dreamed of doing is writing stories and directing films to take what's in my mind and share it with the world on your screen, maybe even a bigger screen. Now remember the rule of secret projects! Who knows what's going on and if it'll ever be real, but let's just say some writing is happening."

in an interview from february 2020, he said that his plans for 2020 included: "a few projects on the burn which I'm not ready to announce fully yet. They all involve writing. There are some stories I'd like to tell, so with some hard work and a bit of luck I might be able to share these with you on-screen on in print next year."

in the TalentWorks podcast from vidcon london (february 2020) at about 29:35 (youtube link), he said: "I think I've reached a point where I'm ready to sink my teeth into a new big project [...] I'm ready to do something new that's also very Phil and very my own thing, so I've been looking into- I'm really obsessed with interactivity. I think there's been a big boom of it since Bandersnatch [...]. I already pitched one interactive thing which didn't work out, but I got a lot of other ideas that I'm thinking of."

and in one of the stereo shows, dnp also confirmed that they tried pitching an interactive show to netflix but it fell through cause of covid ! and there was this insta story of dan being in LA in january 2020, which aligns with the timeline mentioned in the podcast. a transcription of that stereo moment is here

so it was never confirmed whether the glitch hoodie was actually supposed to be smth greater or if it was just a fun merch idea, but it was a common fan theory that glitch was supposed to be one of phil's projects!

and i think one of the most notable theories that supported the glitch concept was that a couple weeks after the merch release, phil tweeted this:

bc the suspicious thing is that it's nearly identical to smth he tweeted 4 years prior on literally the same day and almost the same exact time ! so we’d joke about how it was like a glitch (!!) in the simulation and he even responded to a tweet about it. and he also talks about it in this liveshow (at 24:39), where he just jokes about how he's living in the matrix

so yea! tldr: glitch is just one theory about what (one of) phil's secret projects is <3

[the-s1lly-corner]

Platonic tadc cast with a child reader Who is like :

"hey, wanna see me do a cartwheel :D"

Basically very spontaneous and chaotic in the adventures lol

Ty!! (and remember to drink water) ;3

TADC cast x chaotic!kid!reader ! (Platonic)

Guys I'm literally so tired I just got done baking a ton of stuff, like I'm talking 12ish hours of non stop cooking and baking I'm going insane im trying so hard not to fall asleep rn because I kinda. Feel bad for not really answering requests today

Anywahs

Hope you enjoy anon!

Written on mobile

CAINE:

Well well how the turn tables (writing caines portion last for once)

Very similar to kinger and ragatha in that he supports everything you do; in fact he encourages your behavior as long as no one is getting hurt. Very loudly (and sometimes obnoxiously) cheers for you

While kinger can only cheer and clap, I think Caine sets off sparkles and fireworks... probably has a whole group of bubbles cheering you on too , assuming there can be multiple bubbles at any given time (I personally think there can be, and they all share a hivemind of sorts)

So what was the occasion that prompted that?

A wonky cartwheel, of which you excited called "a sideways front flip"

(Fun fact from the admin, I called my first cartwheel that bc I didnt know it was called a cartwheel yet)

POMNI:

Anxious parental figure and hyper child, a dynamic that's hit or miss at least for me. Really it depends on how its executed

That said I think she struggles to keep up with you

Constantly scrambling around you make sure you dont fall into any danger. Literally and figuratively...

Her attempts to get you to sit down for more than five minutes fail

Your ass is failing the marshmallow test/j

RAGATHA:

No thoughts only that one clip from adventure time where BMO pretends to be a wheathervane before trying to nose dive off the roof, all while calling for finns attention. Thats you and ragatha, basically (in essence, not exact scenario though)... maybe zooble too, but we'll get there when we get there (I am currently having a brain blast)

Says things like "what am I gonna do with you" everyday, always lightheartedly of course and usually accompanied by a tired chuckle

Generally very supportive of you though, just so long as you're not hurting yourself! Sure, this is the digital world and injuries dont really stick, but still! The pain is still there

JAX:

I mentioned the marshmallow test in pomnis part and I feel like jax would do something similar with you. Except the test is rigged and the candy (which he uses in place of the marshmallow( is actually for him and not for you. So if you actually earn the extra candy you dont even get it

That said I do think jax would feel bad when you get upset about the joke

Anyways

I think he finds it funny, as long as you're not tugging on his overalls and screaming at him for something, or interfering with his plans

Hes not a neglectful rolemodel/familial figure, he just has a short fuse with the above I think, regardless of who it is, kid or not

That said he fully embraces your spontaneous nature

KINGER:

Peepaw and his grandchild, that's it that's literally the dynamic

"Kinger is only 48-"

Hush♡

"Oh that's so lovely, (reader)" when you run up to him with your hands full of god knows what

Eagerly claps and cheers when you show him a new trick you learned

Bonus if you try to recreate or one up his embellished stories in order to make him proud of you (hes always proud of you)

ZOOBLE:

As mentioned in ragathas part, the wheathervane BMO thing is basically in essence you guys' dynamic. Except where I think ragatha would be quicker to pay attention to you, zooble may be a little slower. Not because they dont care about whatever you're trying to display to them, but because I think a lot of the times they kind of mentally check out (me too honestly)

Tries to scold you if you do something too dangerous or out of line, may come across as way angrier or upset than they actually are though thanks to their voice being kinda

You know

Zooble gives off "cool older sibling who doesnt care about nothing" energy

GANGLE:

Meekly tries to get you to calm down for a few minutes, especially if theres an IHA going on because she doesnt want you to run off and potentially get hurt. Tries to keep you occupied with arts and crafts. Watches in horror as you impulsively eat the glue

Tends to wrap one of her ribbon hands around yours so she knows you're not running off.. this is more so when theres an IHA going on

As per usual not many ideas for gangle <\3

[kumezyzo]

ooo could you write something where y/n and sap have been dating for a while and maybe it’s a bit angsty bc y/n wants everyone to know they’re dating but sap is scared ( or the other way around) of telling people so maybe they have an argument but then he does the cutest n sweetest reveal post ever

if i’m making sense

i feel like this trope is sometimes overused and done incredibly wrong, but i think I've done it justice. thank you so much for requesting 🥰🥰

anyway, enjoy! or dont :) m.list

bf!sapnap wanted it to be known that you were dating. that you were his, and he was yours. it was a no-brainer for him. he wanted to he able to kiss you in public, let alone go out with you. he wanted to stream with you and show off how amazing you are. but you just weren't ready yet.

you were so sure people would be angry to know he was dating someone rather than be happy you were a good person. you'd heard way too many stories, seen too many situations to think you'd be welcomed with open arms.

and bf!sapnap tried to respect that. but after a few months, it was too much. he wanted to go on dates with you.

"baby?" he asked you softly. you hummed in acknowledgment, looking up from your laptop momentarily. "i wanna tell people about you."

you stopped your movements and looked over to your boyfriend. he looked nervous. and rightfully so. you had been shutting down the idea for the past couple of months.

"nick... we've talked about this..." you told him softly, feeling your heart break at the way his shoulders seemed to droop. he nodded and ran a hand over his face, frustrated.

"i dont give a shit what people think! i just want to be able to leave the house with my girlfriend!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up in defeat.

"well, i do," you told him incredulously. "i mean, i would get shit on so quickly. a-and not to mention if we went out, it wouldn’t really be peaceful."

"so you don't want to tell people because youre scared?" he crossed his arms.

"yes," you sat up, pushing your laptop off to the side. "im scared. ive never been in the eye of the public and this fandom you have? its fucking crazy."

"but i want to tell them about you. you're my life. and i want to share that with them," he told you simply. as if it could be that simple for you too. "and if they don't like you, i won't care. I'll just tell them all to fuck off."

you let out an amused scoff, "you'll tell them to fuck off?"

"mhm."

"and what else?" you asked, completely amused by the simplicity of his solutions.

"I'll ban all of them," he huffed.

"all of them?"

"yup, all of them. even if theres no one left watching me, i know you'll still be there," he said softly. he stepped closer to you. "and they'll all be gone, knowing that im happy with my girl. and when they see us out on dates, they can fuck right off.

you but your lip, trying to hide your smile. he felt his heart warm at the sight. he already knew your answer.

bf!sapnap who, as soon as you give him the green light, posted a picture of you two to his instagram.

the picture was a selfie of you two. your face was squished up against his and big grins on both of your faces.

you two were just hanging out that day, laying in bed together, and feel particularly cuddly. you remember wanting to be as close to him as possible when you took the picture. and that was the result.

he captioned it with "whos that really hot guy next to my gf???"

bf!sapnap who went through the comments and all the tweets with you, feeling content with all the nice comments flooding through and with the smile on your face.

in the words of an amazing poet: yeet, yeet, skert, yeet yeet, skirt, skirt, skirt. roll up. drop that. skirt that. pop that-

im sorry, i dont know what came over me.... -nony

[ekanatsume]

Keeping these here bc istg finding doksoo people is like seeing kdj not sacrificing himself

I dont really ship ship them but like the potential they have as a couple i-

If youre a doksoo person, please lemme know bc like i can n o t for the love of god find people who ship them. I just wanna cry about them like 😭🙏

[ID: Tiktok screenshots of Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint fanart of Han Sooyoung and Kim Dokja overlaid with captions about their relationship. The art featured is by more than one artist, but predominantly by BlackBox. The captions read:

1. han sooyoung once said "me, waiting for someone for decades and decades... you think such a thing is even possible? you crazy fool,"

and then we are told about her endless waiting in kaizenix arc, and how she was fighting her best to stay awake for 13 years in the epilogue, for one person, for someone she thought she never waited for, and then it was revealed that she, again, waited for 4 years for certain someone to wake up from his sleep. she diligently visited him every day during his time in the hospital, making sure he's still alive and well even though his soul has scattered away.

2. orv ebook spoiler?

during kaizenix arc kim dokja wrote a love letter to han sooyoung where he told her "write a'story that's for me andme "alone." little did he know that han sooyoung Would do anything, LITERALLY anything to write a story for him alone. why aren't you by her side when she writes a story for you?

3. kaizenix arc shows how much kim dokja means to han sooyoung. she spent 50 years, literally a lifetime, waiting for him. she hold onto the promise kdj told her, where he said he would find her as soon as possible before they got thrown to kaizenix.

she fought her hardest not to forget him. fighting for 50 years, ALONE. for 50 years, she believed kdj would save her. and she believed kdj would one day read her book to save her. and she never blamed kdj for the 50 years she spent. God. it's a pity we don't talk enough about her struggle in kaizenix.

4. This has to be one of the saddest passages in the entire novel.

I will never shut up about doksoo and their captivating interactions. and how astoundingly excellent Sing Shong's writing is: the emotions, permeated the text, and picturing that particular moment visually came with it naturally.

I was moved to tears by her assumption that it was her fault that he started crying and her quick actions to comfort him because she didn't want to keep seeing him cry

Not to mention how Kim Dokja expressed his emotions, which is as uncommon as him not sacrificing his life for KimCom.

All he wanted was some reassurance; to be told, that he's done the best he could the whole time through

Hsy mghtve comforted him for the wrong reasons, but that completed the job nevertheless.

5. when you realize kim dokja's ■■ is "epilogue" and "eternity" while han sooyoung's ■■ is "neverending story". and towards the end we find out about hsy making a promise to kdj that she will write the epilogue, a story, for kdj until the end of time, for eternity, if that's the only way she could save him…

6. how did you read orv epilogue and think han sooyoung and kim dokja are platonic bc i genuinely thought they were canon after hsy's sacrifices for 13 years, and kdj openly saying he loves her story more than anyone else.

orv theme is basically your story = you

7. the fact that kim dokja had actually fulfilled his promise to read han Sooyoung's "boring" novel that has over 3000 chapters even before they both made promise with each other.. he kept his promise for over than 13 years, without both realizing that fact until hsy regained her memories as tls123, and kdj as od.

8. han sooyoung had seen kim dokja's life at its lowest when she first saw him almost lifeless at the hospital she held his hand, feeling the warmth of the hands that had given up of his life, and she cried. and the first thing. she thought of was how to save him. in mere minutes she decided to damn the whole world for him to live and survive she would never let kim dokja to be in that state ever again, not when she is there for him.

9. the whole twsa is a love letter from han sooyoung to kim dokja. she told him to never give up (ch533), encouraged him to find companions (ch75). described so many disgusting foods as delicious so that he could eat them with ease, and not to mention the whole reason why twsa existed was for him to have a reason to live and survive for another day. she wrote all of this for 13 years, so that he could live BEFORE and AFTER apocalypse. she saved him before anyone else could do it. her love is eternal. End ID]

Thenks to @princess-of-purple-prose I DIDNT KNOW HOW TO ALT TEXT AAAAAA. Thenks for doing this ^^