#but it is kind of my plausible deniability these days

[horrorsequel]

chin hair only thing local man likes about himself, mom constantly mentions he should shave it and he says he will later. he is mostly lying.

[gen-is-gone]

hrgh every time I think I've come close to forgiving lance fucking parkin I skim the gallifrey chronicles. and then I remember the Horrors.

[gumisgirl]

i think the int'l anime community needs to reflect on the amount of internalised homophobia it so casually perpetuates. it is internalised in society as we know it and grew up with, and while great strides have been made in the world today, in many places especially east of the world (I live east of the world) it is still illegal to be in a same sex marriage.

such relationships are highly frowned upon and openly ridiculed. people still use being called gay as an insult. misogyny and toxic masculinity is the norm. and thus being comfortable in your own skin even as a cis man is impossible cs if you're not toxic you're gay, so imagine life as a queer individual..

and because of such, a lot of queer people can only express their love in private. queer artists can only express themselves through their work. through their art. and even then, very few do it outright. some are extremely subtle about it, for fear of negative feedback, or worse. hate crimes

anime and manga as a form of media and art originates on a continent where queer marriage is illegal. does that mean there are no queer people on the whole continent?? manga/manhwa artists are not gonna always explicitly say that their original characters are in a way queer, but reading comprehension also exists.

any author, manga or not, expects (hopes) that their audience has a decent amount of intelligence to extrapolate information for themselves and draw certain conclusions without them explicitly stating so. and most people are able to draw those conclusions themselves eg when people deep dive marvel movies and connect things from different scenes and movies to come to an assumption, no one bats an eye. and if straight people in any movie are simply nice to each other, it's okay to ship them. but if you try to even insinuate that two men or two women with chemistry, especially in an anime, may like each other more than friends, all of a sudden you're forcing things.

you could provide very straightforward evidence and actual words and scenes from a show, but people suddenly cannot read cues or read between the lines. suddenly everyone needs an outright confession. it's exhausting actually..

why do i have to prove that they're in love? did we read the same work? why don't you prove that they're not in love for a change..

the best example I can think of is itafushikugi. kugisaki and itadori have such a great friendship, and so do kugisaki and megumi. and in canon they're just friends (it's ok if you ship them, that's not the point). but in canon there's quite a lot of evidence of itafushi. satosugu as well... and other animes too.. but circumstances out of authors controls will stop a lot of them from explicitly making queer relationships canon..

[chiistarri]

done with him 🙏

[autolenaphilia]

God I think I actually prefer explicit fascist transmisogyny in comparison to the disguised dogwhistly liberal transmisogyny.

Like the people who openly call me an autogynephile and other various slurs and tell me to kill myself are at least being honest. They don't bullshit me about hating my very existence and wanting me to die.

It's all the faux-loving forms of transmisogyny that really make me angry. Like it makes my skin crawl in its dishonesty and hypocrisy. And it takes so many forms. Like the transmisogynist christian "hate the sin, not the sinner" approach where they claim to love me and just want me to accept Jesus in my heart. The necessary condition for accepting their version of Jesus however is me detransitioning, and that would kill me.

There is the terfy "people with gender dysphoria are suffering and they need help but we can't endanger women's sex-based rights for them." i've even seen in arguments about legal gender changes the following: "of course trans women deserve to use women's spaces, but if we allow legal gender self-id evil cis men will take advantage of that. So trans women will have to have their rights restricted." Even J.K. Rowling used it in her terf manifesto.

It makes one yearn for the days of the ur-terf book "The Transsexual Empire" which had the "shemale" slur in its subtitle and in which the author Janice Raymond argued trans women rape real women by the fact of their very existence. That kind of brazen transmisogyny at least had some kind of honesty about it.

There is also the transmisogynist callout culture fandom, or as the japanese fittingly call them: the american feelings yakuza. They callout transfems for problematic kinks like at least once a week but deny transmisogyny. "oh we don't believe all transfems are evil predatory sex perverts, it's just that this particular transfem is."

Their evidence for her being sexual predatory is that she ships two fictional siblings. Or in meatspace meetings, things like her having "bad vibes" ("bad vibes" or "gut instinct" are polite words for what more sensible people call "ingrained bias") .

And they suspiciously keep on making callouts for transfem after transfem in a neverending series, trying to ruin her reputation and socially exile her, but of course they are not transmsiogynists.

There is also the sofboi transandrobro type of transmisogyny. They spread the vilest transmisogyny but always falls back on a terfy bioessentialism to claim ontological innocence and perpetual victimhood in all situations. I've literally seen someone say "how can i be a misogynist, i'm literally afab." These people will not say directly "shut up about your oppression, stupid tranny", but say it in coded form. I had one guy traumadump to me about his rape in vivid detail to make the point that (trans)men suffer more and imply that transfems don't suffer from sexual violence.

And that's the crux of the issue. Open hate barely fazes me anymore, unless there is an immediate threat of physical violence. But being condescended to, being emotionally manipulated, being faced with people veiling their hatred of transfems behind a veil of superficially loving rhetoric, that does make me angry. And these people always use my anger against me. "Why are you so angry when these people are being so polite and nice to you?" And that's because the point of these rhetorical approaches is to have plausible deniability for your bigotry and make transfems look crazy when they point it out.

Yet it's the same bigotry as the explicit version, it's just more dishonest about it. Like if had the They Live glasses and looked at the rhetoric, it would just read "exterminate all transfems." All those polite liberals believe the same thing about transfems as the neo-nazis openly calling for us to be hanged, they just lack the virtue of being honest about it.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Adeuce + Onee-san!Yuu Headcanons

I THINK THEY’D BOTH BE INTO ONEE-SANS… cuz Ace is the bratty one that wants attention and Deuce is into being praised for his accomplishments 💀 Even worse if both of them are crushing on the same onee-san and butt heads every day about it.

Please note: due to the nature of the scenario, these headcanons could read as gendered (since “onee-san” means "big sister") even though I avoid the use of gendered pronouns for the reader/self insert in my writing and just generally allude to the concept of the "onee-san" trope (someone who is reliable, kind, and mature). Read at your own discretion.

Curiouser and Curiouser…

Ace is totally the type of guy that mercilessly teases the person he has a crush on, and that's really no different when it comes to you. He sees it like a challenge, to see how fast he can break you and get you cutely begging him to stop--but to his surprise, you hold your own and push back, scolding him for his attitude and lip. He blinks as you finish your lecture and turn to walk off, not registering the heat of his gaze following you.

The teasing continues regardless, of course. He doesn't let up on it, always coming up with some clever new excuse whenever you respond. With (fake) watery eyes, Ace will claim you're BULLYING your innocent little kouhai, don't you feel any shame or remorse? Oh, and he gets jealous if others tease you—because only he’s allowed to do that, got it?

He doesn't flinch at all when you scold him (In fact, he thinks it's kind of cute how you get all stern and pouty) Ace will taunt you and egg you on ("What're you gonna do, tell my mom?"). May or may not also include him cheekily sticking his tongue out at you.

The number one thing he makes fun of you about is your kindness. He often tells you that you're TOO nice, and that someday it may come back to bite you in the ass, or someone might try to take advantage of that kindness. "Luckily for you, I'm a nice guy too, so I wouldn't mess with you like that."

Ace is handsy. He'll casually lean on your shoulder or even rest his head on top of yours (if you're short enough for that kind of thing). It's fine between "just friends", right?

If you ignore him (or he feels like you're giving more attention to Grim or Deuce than to him), he gets all clingy, whining about how you next hang out anymore or why did you leave his text on read? Ace tries to invite you out as nonchalantly as he can (he doesn't want to come off as desperate).

"How about that burger place in town? What? Nooo, it's not a date, dummy! It’s just a joke. Unless…?" He typically phrases private outings with him as unserious, if only to keep a route of plausible deniability open for himself to escape with if you indicate you're not really into it.

Pesters you to come watch his basketball games. Constantly. When you do finally show up, he waves excitedly, winks, and tries to dedicate a shot to you in an attempt to look cool. (Unfortunately, the ball bounces off the rim and makes him look incredibly pathetic. Floyd gets a good laugh out of this.)

Every time Riddle collars him or punishes him with extra chores, Ace asks you to comfort him. He'll dramatically lean against you and lament how life has been SO unfair to him lately, so he'd for real appreciate a shoulder to cry on or maybe a lap to rest on right about now~

He pretends to not understand class material as an excuse to ask for "one-on-one" tutoring. Since you're sooo smart and kind, you'll definitely help him, won't you? As you're explaining how to solve this equation or the next, Ace is too busy staring at your profile to really pay attention. You ask if he gets it now, and it takes him a few seconds to snap back to reality and insist to you that he does, but juuust to make sure he gets it maybe you could explain it all again!

Whenever you pack a homemade lunch, Ace is the first to ask for a bite. Well, not ask but more like he announces he wants some before he steals a bite right off of your eating utensil. He'll then make some cheeky comment about how it's an indirect kiss. In return, he shares his own snacks (which suspiciously look like unbirthday party cakes he swiped from the fridge, but shhhh, don't tell Riddle!).

Every time Ace dresses up or buys some new article of clothing, he makes a show of wearing it. Like this guy will wear the luxury sunglasses Vil gifted him for his birthday INDOORS or on the back of his head hoping it'll bait you into noticing and then complimenting him.

Ace claims that you're "soooo obsessed with [him'" since you're always "chasing [him] like a lovesick puppy" and "looking for excuses to talk with [him]". In reality, you follow him around and talk with him to nag him and keep him in line, but Ace frames it a certain way because he's delusional to mess with you. "Geez, if you want me that badly, then just say so~"

You try your best to keep him out of trouble, but there are instances in which you end up roped into his shenanigans and both of you are punished for it. Detention isn't exactly a very romantic spot to be in, but Ace makes use of every moment of it to hog you for himself. "Hey, don't make that long face. It's not so bad—least you've got me here to keep you company."

He sometimes brings up his ex to complain about how needy she was (the irony of Ace saying that is not lost on you) and implicitly brag about how he has sooo much experience with dating. He'll then bring the attention to you. "I don't get it, what was she looking for in a guy? She said I was way too immature for her. How about you, Prefect? Do you get it? Immature guys... do you like that kind of thing?" Ace thinks he's slick but he ain't--

Unlike Ace, Deuce does his best to try and not cause trouble for you to clean up after. He also joins you in telling Ace off, to which Ace will call him a "goody two shoes" and accuse him of "sucking up to Prefect". Deuce adamantly denies it, but his frenemy's words still fluster him.

Deuce is very polite to you and even greets you with a bow. He sees you as someone deserving of respect because of how responsible you are—you're modelling the very thing he aspires to be someday! Your encouraging presence fills him with a drive and determination to be better.

Having someone like you around makes Deuce try really, really hard to demonstrate how mature he can be. He pulls off these herculean feats (like forcing himself to eat bell peppers without gagging or solving a basic arithmetic problem correctly in under 5 minutes). It’s all worth it when he sees that proud smile blooming on your face and hears the cheery “Good job!!” from you.

Deuce usually keeps a respectable distance (to keep things professional between peers!). However, he completely freezes up if any scenarios arise where you touch him—be it an accidental brush of your shoulder and his while you're walking to class together or you plucking a fallen leaf or petal out of his air. His face turns about as red as his dorm leader's and he hurriedly runs way ahead of you to cool off.

The worst of it is when you adjust your clothes for him (it puts you in very close proximity) or when you pat him on the head and shower him with praise. Deuce doesn't know how to react to receiving such earnest compliments, he just melts like putty in your hands, happily basking in the moment.

In spite of all of his efforts, his grades don't see much of an improvement. Seeing his frustration, you offer to tutor him, which Deuce graciously accepts. It doesn't occur to him until he's actually in that tutoring session that this is a private time for the two of you, and suddenly he's struggling to focus because wow, you're so close and your hand is centimeters away from his. Instead of thinking about math, he's thinking about what it would feel like to reach out and hold you. Stupid, stupid! he scolds himself. D-Don't think about weird things like that!

Deuce doesn't have a lot of pocket money, but he offers to share his food with you anyway. (He knows you're carefully budgeting your monthly allowance from the headmaster, so you can't afford to spend much on treats.) He'll break off half of his chocolate bar or dessert bread, but drinks are harder to share. His face burns at the suggestion of sharing a straw—isn't that technically an indirect kiss?—but he tries to pretend like he's not nervous (even as his hand trembles terribly as he accepts the juice carton from you to take a sip of his own).

There are times when you find him a little bruised and beat up, whether it’s the result of a brawl or an intense workout. Deuce will insist that he’s fine, but that doesn’t stop you from personally tending to him. He’s dead quiet as he watches you disinfect and bandage his injuries, heat climbing to his cheeks. When you ask if it hurts anymore, he softly replies “… No.” Not when you’re here with me.

Deuce frequently tells his mom about you when they speak over the phone. He says that you’re an amazing person with a big heart, rambling on and on about how you care about everyone and always support them. His mom listens for a while before laughing and telling Deuce he’s definitely got a crush and that she’d love to meet this person that has stolen her son’s heart. Of course, he gets embarrassed and claims she’s wrong, he just really admires you, that’s all!! (But a mother knows best…)

Deuce is easily flustered whenever you call him “cute”. He tends to keep his mouth shut and let you gush as you please, but one day he manages to find his voice and protests. "P-Please don't tease me like that, Prefect..." Deuce mutters, his gaze cutting to the ground. “I… I want you to see me as a man.” Someone you can rely on.

Deuce tells you that if you’re ever in need of help—or if people are giving you trouble—then all you have to do is call him. He’ll come running to your side, lend a hand, fend off the bullies, whatever you need. He knows he can depend on you, so he should also be the type of person you can depend on.

It’s hard for him to get a grip on his delinquent side if he feels like you’re in danger. That mixture of concern, protectiveness, and upset drives him wild—he doesn’t even realize he has relapsed until he has rushed over to check on you and notices the alarm set in your eyes. I’ve gone and done it again, he panics. They’re disappointed in me.

… But you embrace Deuce warmly, thanking him, peppering him with reassurances, inspecting him for any signs of harm. He’s flooded with relief, allowing himself to sink into your arms and breathe in your comforting smell.

Deuce appreciates it when you make time to go to his Track and Field Club meets and cheer him on. He sprints like the wind to see you at the finish line. You’re smiling, with a water bottle, a wet towel, and a snack in hand to reward him for his hard work. Deuce’s clubmates snicker and tease him about it, but he doesn’t let that get to him—he’s too busy riding the adrenaline high that is you.

He’s not shameless unlike Ace, who pretty much automatically clocks his feelings. Deuce struggles a lot with coming to terms with how he feels about you, wondering if he’s “good enough” to be near you, to like you in the capacity that he does, to push these emotions onto you. He kicks himself, calling it spineless and cowardly to not gather his courage and just blurt it out already—but he’s scared of breaching your friendship. “Hey, Is this okay…?” Is it okay for me to like you like this?

[sage-nebula]

"Suffer No Fools" - Shiver vs. Marina Analysis

It's been a few days since "Suffer No Fools" released, but I wanted to go ahead and release my analysis of Shiver's and Marina's verse since that's the one that has caused the most discussion within the fandom. I've seen a lot of debate over Marina's section in particular, with people unsure whether she was being sincere or sarcastic, and I think the actual answer is a little more complicated than one or the other, at least with regards to the first couplet of lines both she and Shiver sing. Of course, people are free to interpret this song however they wish, but after seeing numerous interpretations I personally didn't vibe with, I just wanted to put my own out there, breaking it down line by line.

So! Here we go.

Exchange 1:

Shiver: "Your haunting voice -- there's no escape. How nice it must be for your fans." Marina: "You're far too kind! I love your vibe. I can learn so much from your style."

Analyzing from dialogue only:

Shiver is insulting Marina's voice by calling it haunting and saying there is no escape, insinuating she wishes there was one. She says how nice it must be for Marina's fans, again implying that she isn't one.

Marina says that she loves Shiver's vibe, which on the surface could be a compliment, but given the context (a music battle) it could also be a Mean Girl "ooh I love your [thing] :)" passive-aggressive drawing-attention-to-something-ugly insult. More direct though, is the "I can learn so much from your style"; you can learn what not to do from someone just as much as you can learn what to do from someone. Marina's engaging in plausible deniability here.

HOWEVER. Lyrics are NOT the only thing that need to be analyzed from this first verse, which is arguably the MOST important exchange between these two. Instead, we need to look at how these lines are delivered.

Shiver is singing in a traditional Japanese folk singing style, specifically a style based on Shima-uta, which her voice actress has a background singing in. Unfortunately, I don't know the actual term for this style of singing, only that it's not kakegoe, something Shiver also does that is different from this. Anyway, in these lines specifically Shiver is singing in her Shima-uta style, a style that she has presumably been practicing since she was a small child, a style that is probably culturally significant to the Hohojiro clan. Singing in this style is not something that just anyone can do. It's completely different from singing in a (for lack of a better word) "western" style. The way you breathe is completely different. The way you incorporate your voice into your breathing is completely different. So by singing in this style, which Shiver has been doing practically her whole life and which, presumably, only she of the four there can do, Shiver is FLEXING on Marina regardless of what lyrics she chooses to sing.

But then Marina, who grew up under the domes in Inkadia, who presumably has never heard Shima-uta before she started listening to Deep Cut and heard Shiver sing, who presumably has had absolutely no training whatsoever on this style of song . . . mimics it perfectly and flexes on Shiver right back.

Could Marina's words to Shiver be interpreted as passive-aggressive in turn? Yes. But does it matter? No, not really. Because in this first verse, Marina's ACTUAL comeback is to take the style of singing that Shiver has been perfecting her entire life and throw it right back in her face despite having never (as far as we or Shiver know) practiced it herself. Shiver was flexing by presumably doing something Marina couldn't do, only for Marina to do it flawlessly, being every bit as divine with a voice so fine as Pearl said she was previously. Marina says "I love your vibe" so she takes it. Marina says "I have so much to learn from you" but does she really, when she can already do exactly what Shiver can, and has, just now, right in front of her?

And Shiver noticed, hence:

Exchange 2:

Shiver: "You remind me of my neighbor's little daughter . . . What's that saying? 'Octo see, octo do.'" Marina: "Glad you approve -- your praise has left me moved. Thanks to your notes, I'll find my groove!"

Shiver drops the Shima-uta singing, because now there's no point. Marina can also sing in that style, so it's no longer a flex. Shiver lost ground on that one, so instead we're back to the same (again, for lack of a better word) "regular" style of singing that everyone else is using. For that reason, we can go back to analyzing purely based on the words alone.

Shiver is calling Marina a copycat, essentially, because Marina copied her Shima-uta singing style in the previous verse (hence why Shiver had to drop it, as previously noted). Marina then gives her "glad you approve -- your praise has left me moved" . . . basically noting that by Shiver accusing her of copying, Shiver is saying that Marina -- someone who just tried the singing style off the cuff right there on the stage for the first time -- was just as good as Shiver, someone who has trained in that style her whole life. The audience saw for themselves that Marina was able to emulate the style, but Shiver saying, "you copied me!" is basically admitting that Marina was just as good as her in Shiver's own eyes, and Shiver is a pro. That's Shiver's aggravation handing Marina the win and Marina smiling wide as she accepts it.

Exchange 3:

Shiver: "Oh, look at the time. Isn't it getting late?" Marina: "Not at all! I could go on like this all night long."

This one doesn't even really need an analysis. For all that she prides herself on being "so cool even sharks call her cold-blooded," Shiver is known for being easily irritated and riled when she's losing due to her competitive nature. Marina successfully got under her skin, and this is her trying to end the battle fast because she didn't have any further comebacks. Marina, meanwhile, gives the classic "I could go on all night" because she's not riled at all, and is instead perfectly comfortable in this environment, knows what she's doing, and has had the upper hand from the start.

It goes back to another post I made about Experience vs. Inexperience. Shiver and Frye are still new idols, whereas Pearl and Marina have been at this for a long while. And while off the stage Marina is a sweet, kind, gentle person who will go out of her way to help others, and can sometimes be a little spacey or naive, she's also a 23-year-old literal genius who has been in the music industry for years now and knows full well what a rap / music battle is and knows her way around a stage. Personally, I found it to be a little infantilizing to insinuate that she "didn't realize Shiver was insulting her," when not only do I think she knew full well, but also she was the one with the upper hand not because of sick burns (that's Pearl's department), but because of sheer innate musical talent.

But those are just my thoughts! Everyone else is free to have their own.

[toxycodone]

oviposition anon teehee i wanted to elaborate more last night but i was tired as fuck and zooted off the penjamin. but like getting separated from the rest of the party and encountering the slime creacher alone with Laios.... you think he'd tell you what the thing is? im sure he knows alllll about it, like he has a private little list of all the most fuckable monsters and of course the damn oviposition slime is on there. do u think he just dives right in head first, or does he try to create some kind of plausibly deniable situation in battle? youre terrified cause you cant make heads or tails of this creature in order to kill it and arent strong with fire magic but.... why does he look like he's having fun? and is that his clothes getting dissolved in there....? and why is he so hot all helpless suspended in the pink gel (ive just now decided the slime is pink), shuddering with pleasure as each near transparent egg enters his body? if you were to get caught by it without knowing what it is i dont think he'd leave you in there, but when he pulls you out of the goop his raging hard on is impossible to ignore and just BEGS questioning.... maybe you need to go seek out another one? or maybe i need to get writing

LISTEN TO ME. ANON YOU ARE ONE HUNDRED PERCENT ONTO SOMETHING. (And I would 100% be down to read something full about this bc oh my god???) and pink slime is the superior color you’re based.

contents: monster fucking, mutual masturbation? if you can call it that?

When you two encounter the slime, Laios is oddly…excited? I mean, he’s always excited to see monsters, but this. Is different. He doesn’t brandish his weapon or look stiff at all when you two encounter it, so you put away yours and you’re like…what the fuck is the deal man??

Laios looks between you and the slime. After a few moments, he casually walks to you.

“Well…um…this slime. They’re usually aggressive, but, you can tell by the color that it’s breeding season. And they’re unusually docile when this occurs…”

So you’re like? Okay. Awesome. No fight required. Let’s get out of here.

But Laios taps his fingers. He looks away a little as he plays with his thumbs.

“You see…it’s docile. But it doesn’t mean we can just leave. Unless we want to find another route. But it’s going to keep going until it eventually finds an adventurer…to use as a host….”

And you’re kinda like um? So do you wanna kill it? Or

And Laios is like “I HAVE AN IDEA. So…the secretions of this slime numb pain and promote healing. If we help this slime out…we can get some of those. It may be useful when Marcille’s out of mana….” Laios then puts his hands on your shoulders and looks at you seriously. “I PROPOSE…we let this slime use us as hosts. And in return, we collect its secretions and save any other unaware adventurer an encounter with it!”

And you’re floored. But once he explains to you, it’s just eggs (they lay them in adventurers to spread their kind to other floors). And it’ll feel *good*. You put your hands on your hips.

“Let me guess. You’ve been waiting for us to encounter this monster, huh….?”

*Cue that iconic Laios blushing panel.*

Anyways, you accept. Laios gives you the rundown from his guide and notes from his journal. First, you have to remove your clothing. The slime will get them soaked and likely tear them to shreds anyways, and if you don’t have a spare you’re screwed. Then, the slime’s secretions will coax you into relaxation. You’ll feel yourself go limp, but it’s not a bad thing. It’ll just make it easier for this whole process—so don’t fight it. Lastly…just enjoy? The slime does all the work and the eggs aren’t dangerous. You’ll pass them in a few days when the incubation period has succeeded (Laios wants to keep one or two to eat, but he doesn’t explicitly say that now).

And so you agree. It seems…oddly fun. Neither of you get time to really do anything sexual while dungeon crawling. And this seems like a good release.

And so you let it happen and it’s fucking MIND BLOWING. The slime’s secretions are absorbed through your skin as it surrounds you, making you feel some weird mix between drunk and high. Your body is limp, but everything you feel is extremely heightened.

The slime teases you all over and gently prods at your holes before slowly opening you up. (if you have a cervix) it’s numbing properties keep it from hurting as it spreads you open and pumps its eggs into your womb/hole. It’s honestly one of the best experiences you’ve had.

It’s like. Some sort of ethereal mutual masturbation experience with Laios, because when you look at him his skin is almost as pink as the slime. His brows are furrowed, eyes shut tight as he moans wantonly, not a care in the world. You can tell when an egg is laid in him bc his face contorts, but then his licks his lips and lets out a shaky moan. There’s already streaks of white in the slime and you’re not sure if it’s just a ton of precum or if he’s already came from the slime.

But you don’t have a lot of time to think about that before you’re shuddering from your own orgasm. It seems the slime coaxes as many as it can from you and Laios—as the more you relax and enjoy the experience the easier it is to continue pumping eggs into your system.

And afterwards, the slime resumes its usual light blue color and withdraws from you two. If you weren’t mistaken…you’d think it was blushing….theres two pink patches left on its “cheeks” as it slithers away, streaks of cum and slick still present in its body.

And. Of course. In typical Laios fashion, while you two are coming back to your senses, covered in slick and slime and who knows what else. All he can do is look at you with that same dopey lovestruck expression and mumble about how much he loves you.

[genericpuff]

The excessively passive voice when talking about Minthe being intended to have BPD is hilarious. "It was thought to have her written with BPD"? So weird

Honestly, once you start noticing this passive voice in how Rachel writes and talks, it's kind of hard to unsee.

Like, for starters, the BPD example. It's very non-committal, almost as if to sound like she never actually wrote her with BPD, it was just an 'idea' that she could neither confirm or deny as canon. But then you read the episode with the slap and-

It's- it's literally called "Splitting". It's about as subtle as a brick to the face. This entire episode showcases Minthe having an actual literal episode of splitting and it's plain as day to anyone who can read the title card and put two and two together. So for the wording to be so passive around her characterization... it wasn't "thought" to have her written with BPD, she was written with BPD.

Another example that sticks out in my mind of Rachel's passive writing is far later in Season 3, when Demeter reunites with Persephone and naturally expects her to come back home with her.

This line still fucking bothers me to this day. Besides the fact that it's just really poorly written dialogue, Persephone describes her being in love with Hades as if it's just some coincidental thing that happened to her that she can't avoid and not a deliberate choice she's making. "It would seem" my ass, Persephone is a coward for not being upfront and just talking to her mother like an adult by saying, "Mother, I love you, and I understand why you want me to come home, but I'm in love with Hades and want to stay in the Underworld with him." Instead the way it's worded is almost designed to absolve Persephone of any and all agency in her own decisions and active participation in her relationship with Hades by instead making it out to be just some circumstance that she can't get herself out of.

Again, this isn't quite as egregious as the aforementioned BPD scene, but it's still irritating because Rachel writes like this a lot throughout LO. And it's not just the dialogue either, entire decisions throughout the comic are flip-flopped and kept vague by Rachel so she can give herself plausible deniability over the narrative. I could come up with some of my own examples, but I think she managed to speak for herself just fine in the end-of-series Q&A that left both critics and fans of the series massively confused and disappointed:

LO is full of half-committed plotlines because Rachel herself can't commit to her own decisions. So the decisions she does make are left vague enough that hardcore fans are willing enough to fill in the blanks themselves, but anyone who asks her genuinely what her plan was, she just gives the same wordy "IDK it's up to your interpretation!" response. It's like she thinks people are asking her as just another reader who can only speculate, but she's literally the author, so why is she acting like her guess is as good as theirs?

Well, because that's how she wrote LO. That's how she's always written comics, with vague half-finished thoughts and just enough for readers to do the mental gymnastics of making sense of it all just to give her the credit for "smart writing" that she never actually did because she stopped paying attention after the first sentence. And that method of being vague for the sake of audience interpretation is fine for illustrations or anything that isn't trying to be a concise narrative, but LO did try to be that and it really shows how hard it failed in doing so when its own creator can't even come up with something slightly plausible to explain all the questions people had in the end. "There is some backstory there" but proceeds to not actually expand on said backstory. "I like to imply things without outright telling people", so do I, but the difference is that Rachel is using that as a crutch to not answer the questions she setup for her readers and then didn't resolve after five years. There's not wanting to spoon feed people the plot, and then there's literally refusing to explain your decisions when writing said plot, almost because you don't know any more than they do.

The entirety of LO is rooted in Rachel's passiveness, from her inability to answer questions concisely to every little plot point that was established and dropped throughout the comic's run. Writing a story is a series of decisions, deciding what to keep, deciding what not to keep, deciding what has to be changed, etc. and Rachel just... doesn't seem like someone who's ever been capable of making those decisions, especially when she's writing an actual long form story to the end and doesn't have the luxury of dropping it whenever it feels convenient for her like she did several times with The Doctor Pepper Show. Once she was actually held to a standard, once she was actually signed into a contract that expected her to make those decisions, she failed to and it culminated in one of the messiest conclusions to a story I've seen since Game of Thrones.

LO is kind of like Schrodinger's Cat - a plot point can be or not be whatever it needs to be so that Rachel can be either praised for smart writing she never did or absolved of bad writing that she did do. It's equally parts interesting and vague enough that whatever her readers give her credit for writing, she can give them a thumbs-up and go "you're totally right, champ!" and proceed to take all the credit of being a "good writer" from the efforts of her own audience who had to jump through a million hoops to make sense of her own messy writing.

But when she's put on the spot by those very same readers to answer for her own decisions, she can't.

Because she never made them.

Because there was never anything "deeper" going on, that's just what her style of "distraction writing" made you believe. The plot never lets you stop to think about what you just read long enough before zipping away to the next thing and distracting you with a new twist or a new character or a new plot point, and before you know it, you've gone weeks without reading about the last thing that was established you probably haven't even realized that those questions never got answered. Sometimes Rachel remembers to get back to those things and resolves them within a handful of panels, other times she forgets them entirely and just leaves them to rot in the hopes that no one ever calls her out on it. And when they do... she can just pull the get-out-of-jail-free "Welp, it's up to your interpretation!" card and get that credit all over again for being deep and insightful, meanwhile those who are rightfully dissatisfied with that answer are blanket-accused of "getting mad at Rachel for not writing the story they wanted".

To close out this ask that, per tradition, turned into an essay, I'd like to recall the famous words of fictional detective Benoit Blanc: "Look into the clear center of this glass onion... Miles Bron is an idiot!"

[fictionalreads]

This Was Never Meant to Be What It Feels Like

A/N: Hey y'all! I'm not really a writer so this is my first time posting any writing here on Tumblr, but I'm apparently incapable of not thinking about Armando (*Whatta Man by Salt-N-Pepa plays in my head) so this kind of...happened. I figured I'd share ☺️ Also, I know Armando thinks Aretas is his dad in the movies but I changed it a bit.

Title is from Satisfaction by SiR (if you haven't heard it do yourself a favor and go listen)

Pairing: Armando Aretas x Original Female Character

Fandom: Bad Boys Movies

Prompt: Shay (OC) wants to get to know Armando better and figures her best bet is to ask when he's...relaxed.

Warnings ⚠️: Uh...complicated parental relationships. Talk of smut, but no actual smut.

“Tell me something.”

“Hm?”

Shay kept her focus on drawing invisible shapes on Armando’s shoulder with her finger. Her blue stiletto shaped nails going down almost to his elbow before finding its way back up to his collar bone. It was something she did often after they had sex and she knew it calmed him much like it was now. His breathing had slowed into something calmer than the frantic breaths of ten minutes ago when he was trying to catch his breath. The open window blew in a decent ocean breeze, adding to the peaceful feeling in her bedroom. She tried to play it cool, like she wasn’t disturbing the moment, wasn’t asking him to do the one thing she knew he hated - opening up.

Shay had been seeing Armando for about three months now, and she knew next to nothing about the man. She knew it was a red flag, hell she knew he probably wasn’t a law abiding citizen, but she couldn’t help it. 

There was something so magnetizing, so sensual about his presence. He commanded attention even though she got the feeling he wanted nothing more than to blend in and be lowkey. She couldn’t help but notice the way he held himself, the way he spoke and moved with the confidence of a man who was sure of himself. Don’t get her started on the way he smelled - it was divine and pure man.

The point was basically this - he was a ten but he refused to tell her more about himself.

Shay was determined to get to know him better, because despite playing things close to his chest, she was in love with him. She didn’t know his last name, but she knew he would bring her flowers and food if she was having a bad day just to make her smile. She didn’t know what he did for a living - honestly, part of her was glad for this if it was illegal as she was imagining. Plausible deniability. - but she knew if she needed him to, he would fix anything she needed him to or at least find someone who could. She didn’t know what his crucible entailed that made him like this, but she knew he loved her like she was something precious.

So she was taking the risk that this would blow up in her face. “Tell me something about you that I don’t know.” She kissed his chest, like she was softening the blow of the question. Not that she needed to, it was an open ended question on purpose. The more freedom she gave about the topic, the more likely he was to answer.

He gently shifted her to the pillow as he lifted himself on his elbow, facing her with a suspicious look on his face. “Like what?” God, what she wouldn’t give to take whatever hurt that made him so distrustful of her just wanting to know him away. Who had betrayed him? Who took advantage of his trust and made him so wary of genuine love?

She thought over her answer, a million topics coming to mind but needing to pick one that wouldn’t have him shutting down immediately. Armando had let the conversation start but he could end it if she said the wrong thing.

“Your family.” She could feel him pulling away as if it was physically happening so she quickly explained her choice. “Did you grow up with siblings? Are your parents married?” Bare minimum. 

It seemed to have worked he looked at her as if debating what to say, if anything, before laying back down and staring at the ceiling. The relaxed man that was in her bed mere minutes ago, gone. Now he was tense, as if ready for a fight. She slowly and obviously resumed her previous position on his chest, giving him time to tell her no if he needed the space. Her nails went back to their drawings in the hopes of calming him enough to talk. He took a breath before, “I grew up an only child. My mom was my world, she taught me everything I knew.”

Her nails stopped moving. “Was?” It was the word that caught the most of her attention out of everything he just said.

“She passed away a few years ago.” His face was blank, as if he was just stating a fact of life rather than talking about the death of the person that raised him and whom he clearly loved.

Shay rubbed the shoulder she wasn’t laying on in an effort to comfort him.“I’m sorry to hear that.” Armando shrugged it off but she could tell it still hurt him. “What about your dad?”

“Our relationship is…complicated at best. He wasn’t around for most of my life. We were introduced a few months before my mom died. I didn’t even know who he was to me until my mom told me on her deathbed.” 

“You never asked your mom about him before?”

“If there was one thing I knew about my father growing up, it was that my mom hated him. She always told me that he left us behind and didn’t look back at all. As a kid I was curious but as I got older, I started to hate him too. I mean he was supposed to love my mom, and he turned on her and left me behind like I was trash. Fuck ‘im. Now I know it wasn’t so black and white.”

“How so?”

“The few times my mom spoke about him, she always heavily implied that he knew she was pregnant with me and left anyway. Looking back, she never said the words. When I confronted my father about it, he said they were a doomed couple that wasn’t ever going to last. They were both too selfish. Said he didn’t even know she had been pregnant until we met.”

“Sounds like he cares. I mean if he knew do you think he would have been around?”

“There’s no doubt in my mind he would have been there, raised me. I know he loves me, that he just wants what’s best for me, but I’m just having a hard time accepting it. I spent so much time hating him that reconciling this truth with this perception I’ve always had of him is hard.”

“Not to mention it means confronting that you didn’t know your mom as well as you thought you did. The woman she was to you isn’t the woman she was to others.”

“And she’s not here to explain it, which just makes me mad all over again. He’s usually the target of my anger.”

“Makes sense to me.” She shrugged in response to his questioning look. “He’s here. Add in the fact that he wasn’t there for so long its easy to blame him for a lot.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

Like a flip had been switched, he once again moves her onto the bed and hovers over her.

“Enough about them. Talking is not exactly what I had in mind for us tonight,” he pleads. 

She could see the desperation and fear in his eyes. She had a feeling that being that honest with her scared him. He wasn’t exactly the vulnerable type and telling her all this put him on display in the most raw way, an unknown for him. It also meant he had to be honest with himself about he felt, something she didn’t think happened a lot. He wanted to escape the real hurt he was feeling about it all, he didn’t want to face what the truth might mean for his memory of his mother. If a reprieve is what he needed, she could do that for him. She would do that for him.

She bit her bottom lip, looking at him through her lashes, feeling herself get wet at his suggestive tone and slight touches. “What did you have in mind?”

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

The next morning she woke up alone, his side of the bed cold. This wasn’t an unusual occurrence as he often left before she woke. She was used to him leaving and coming back randomly, sometimes being gone for days. After their conversation and the way he seemed to just need her last night, she figured this was coming. Something told her him leaving was different this time, that she had pushed him too far. She had the sickening feeling that he wasn’t coming back.

Round two had been fast and rough, needy in a way. Round three had been teasing and playful, like he was apologizing for being so rough before. Round four was…slow and passionate, reverent almost.

It felt like a goodbye.

A/N: 🫣So how'd I do? Let me know in the comments. Likes and reblogs are always appreciated! OH AND HOW SHOULD I TAG THIS?! Anything I should add to get more people to see it?

Part 2 Part 3

[hoover1st]

A Likely Pair

Summary: Astarion has been desperately attempting to earn your affection. At the tiefling party, he uses your drunken inhibitions to his advantage. Not knowing you have your own share of trauma, his evening is derailed, likely for the better… Gender Neutral!Reader/Astarion Tags: Implied SA, Angst and Fluff, No Pronouns, Sexual implications but nothing happens, reader has sexual trauma, follows events of Act 1 Astarion Romance. Word Count: 2k AO3 | Masterlist

*A/N: This is extremely self-indulgent. Inspired by a beautiful fic from @tavs-tressym. I didn’t want to make this an OC, because I want my writing to be as accessible as possible, but it’s glaringly obvious that this is written from my own experiences… Again, TW for SA*

Your world has been turned upside down since the day that damned illithid parasite wormed its way into you, but more so since meeting the colorful band of companions who’ve chosen to join you.

Some will still deny it, but you’re magnetic. You don’t complain or nag, rather just handle situations without missing a beat, and your relentless optimism isn’t as suffocating as one might think.

You hate the term leader. You’re not above any of your companions, you just happen to do the talking and the problem-solving. 

The independence that was so valuable throughout your life is hard to unlearn, relying on your companions is still something you’re grappling with. But above all else, the quality that comes to mind when thinking of you is that damned charm. 

You were always teetering on the edge of plausible deniability. Your companions have started to expect it from you, most believing it’s just your personality. You’re attractive, decently kind, and effortlessly funny. 

Mix those qualities, and you get someone whose banter and compliments confound most. You can’t help it, it’s just who you are. It doesn’t help that you genuinely find each of your companions endearing.

There are these moments when you’re spending time with one of them, and they attempt to reciprocate. That’s where the delicate dance begins. Once it clicks in your head that they’re flirting or making implications, you’re gone. Leaving them in their bemusement.

There’s one companion who’s especially engaging. The banter is never dull, because he too has learned this dance. It’s not hard to admit Astarion is indisputably gorgeous. Your personalities are two sides of the same coin. The mischief is like a song, the harmonies balanced.

It’s plain to see that Astarion is pursuing you with the most vigor. You act coy, but you secretly enjoy it, even if it frustrates him to no end. He should have been able to seduce you by now. Knowing that if he could be the one to have you, he’d be protected.

Every time he thinks he’s got you, and his words are more than innuendo, you’ve cleverly removed yourself from the equation. You’re not sure why you do it. Astarion is attractive, and the flutter in your stomach can’t always be blamed on shitty cooking.

There’s something in you that stops anyone from getting too close, at least in that way. You don’t know why? You’ve healed, right? It’s been years since it happened. The touch of others doesn’t make your skin crawl like it used to.

Mother always said it’s natural to touch and kiss others. So why is it that every time they get close, you pull away?

Tonight, the people you so 'selflessly' saved in the Emerald Grove have insisted on throwing a party. Your flirtatious nature is only amplified by the increasing amount of alcohol in your system. You might have even met your match with the Arch-Druid Halsin, but no one is trying as hard as Astarion, and with your inhibitions lowered, you’re starting to consider his proposal.

Swiftly shooting down every other offer is second nature, but for whatever reason, you leave Astarion’s up in the air.

The party stretches on, and you’re not ready to turn in yet, a force compels you back to the rogue’s tent. A drink in hand, you drunkenly saunter back to Astarion, your body leading you like a moth to flames.

Astarion sees you cross back over to him, his gaze unabashed as his eyes rake over your form. This was it, he was finally going to seduce you. As a drunken grin stretches across your face, he feigns a pout, his voice a purr,

“I’m glad you’re back darling. I started to consider you’d found company elsewhere”

You grin and shake your head teasingly, “Most of the ‘company’ has turned in. If there’s someone I know to stay up late, it’s you Astarion dearest”

The wolfish grin you know all too well returns to his face, and he leans in closer, “Well darling if staying up is what you desire, my offer still stands~”

Normally this would be when you’d conveniently snake your way out of the conversation, but the alcohol, and the way he looks in this dim lighting, have you considering it.

Of course, Astarion notices this immediately, and his grin only widens. He knew alcohol would be the key to finally having you. Without letting you respond, he’s moving closer, his voice lowering,

“I’m gonna take that as a yes. Finish that drink of yours and meet me in the clearing near the stream, I’ll be waiting darling.“

With that, he’s gone, slipping away to not give you the chance to say no. Your mind is reeling, did you just agree to do this? Now you feel obligated to go, what if he’s there waiting all night for you? 

Finishing your drink, you go back to your tent to check yourself, suddenly feeling a bit nervous.

As you walk out to the clearing, you look good. A drunken saunter looks sexy on everyone, right? But it’s not your looks you’re concerned with. 

You can do this. It’s no big deal, right? Maybe he doesn’t even actually want sex? But even so, it’s fine. Sex is normal. People do it all the time. Why can’t you?

As you walk into the clearing, he’s posed against a tree, and saunters from his spot. It’s almost comical to you. There’s something so practiced about his movements, the way he’s already lost his shirt.

His body is gorgeous, he’s placed himself so the moonlight casts shadows on the lines of his body, illuminating his pale skin. You wouldn’t be surprised if he scouted and planned this days ago.

Even his voice is perfectly practiced as he purrs, “There you are. I’ve been waiting for you.”

You keep up your playfulness, despite your racing mind, “Poor thing, I was worried you’d be out here all night.”

Astarion cocks a brow and hums, “Oh? Don’t tell me you’ve been reconsidering? it’s so obvious you want this, you mustn’t deny it any longer darling.”

You narrow your eyes teasingly, “And what’s that Astarion? What is it you think I want?”

His predatory expression grows more intense, but inside, he’s growing impatient. Why are you so difficult? “Darling, I think it’s pleasure you want. To lose yourself in me”

You grin, finding comfort in the stalling, “Astarion dearest, I quite like myself. But what is it you want?”

Your question takes him off guard. You see his eyes flicker as if you’d struck some nerve. It takes him a beat to get back on track, and as quick as it was there, it’s gone. The suave charm back,

“What do any of us want, darling? A pleasurable distraction. To find solace in each other.”

His words combined with your intoxication have you nodding, but you’ve lost the playfulness. “If that’s what you want, I’m inclined to agree”

Astarion notices your shift, but he’s too focused on going through his motions, doing what he knows, what he can control. Astarion won’t admit it, but he likes you. Yet, at the end of the day, his focus is on his survival.

At your agreement, he’s moving in. Not wanting to squander the opportunity. Knowing if he doesn’t seize it now; you might pull away, like you always do.

Astarion breaks through your drunken haze, his touch light and experimental, feeling your body before he closes the distance between you. You start to like it. Your senses zoned in on his touch, enjoying the feeling of his caresses. He moves a hand up to cup your cheek and kisses you.

At first, the kiss was nice. It feels good to kiss him, maybe it just took having a handsome stranger like Astarion to cure you?

The kiss becomes more heated, and you start to melt into him. His hands wander, and he kisses you hungrily, but something feels off.

It starts to become all too much to handle. You’re attracted to Astarion, a lot, but when the kiss grows deeper, your face scrunches up into a whine. Astarion likes you, but this is a job to him, something he deems necessary for you to like him. He’s already on autopilot, his brain registering your whine as one of pleasure.

Your fists clench and you start to shy away from him. Something is wrong. This doesn’t feel right, your issues, mixing with your intuition tell you that neither of you is entirely present. You bring your hands up to his chest and apply pressure, after a moment you gently push him away from you.

Your face is scrunched up as your chest heaves, except it’s not from pleasure. Astarion’s eyes widen as he looks at you, taken completely off guard, nothing like this has ever happened to him.

After a moment of staring at you in confusion, he speaks up, his voice betraying his offense, “What’s wrong?!”

You’re curling into yourself, feeling embarrassed. You shake your head and avert your gaze from him, “I’m sorry, I just, I…” you trail off looking for the words, Astarion cuts you off with a huff, 

“What in the bloody hell is your problem?”

Astarion’s mind is racing, has he lost the one thing he was good at? His only valuable asset?

You don’t respond, you can’t stop it, you’re caving into yourself. You try to take deep breaths, your arms wrapped around yourself. Astarion has never seen you behave like this, you’re always the strong, confident one.

Astarion stares as you curl into yourself, watching you walk to the stream nearby, sitting on the bank.

Astarion doesn’t know what to do, he can't remember the last time he cared to comfort another. Why should he? Not like anyone would give a shit if he broke down. He doesn’t even know what to do but his feet are moving, and he gently sits down next to you on the bank, staring into the moving water.

After a long moment, you speak up, eyes never moving from the stream, “I’m sorry Astarion, I hope I didn’t disappoint you”

Whatever Astarion was expecting, it couldn’t have prepared him for the way your words tore through him, he gaped at you his voice unsure, “What do you mean?”

You tear your eyes from the stream, meeting his gaze. Your expression is pained, your voice quiet, “I know you’ve been wanting this Astarion, and I thought I could do it, but it all felt so wrong.”

Astarion’s expression is unusually unguarded. It's as if he’s so perplexed, that he can’t think to put on his usual charming smirk. He stares at you, brows furrowing. Before he can stop himself, his voice uncharacteristically insecure, he’s asking “Did I do something wrong?”

You’re immediately shaking your head, trying to reassure him, “No, no Astarion it’s not you. I just, struggle with things like this”

You both break eye contact, going back to stare into the stream. The silence stretches, but it’s not uncomfortable. After a while, you’ve calmed down and sobered up, you turn to Astarion with a soft smile, “You could put your shirt on if you’d like, you look a little chilly”

Astarion grins up at you, glad that your teasing is back. He rolls his eyes, “Darling, I’m a vampire, I don’t get ‘chilly’. Plus, it wouldn’t be fair to those beautiful eyes of yours to cover all of this” he gestures down to his bare abdomen.

You laugh and shake your head, “I never said I didn’t appreciate the view Astarion dearest, just trying to be considerate”

As the two of you sit on the bank of the stream, things have finally returned to some semblance of normal. It’s nice. Neither of you talks about your past, or what just happened, but there’s this feeling between the two of you, one of understanding. 

Tonight didn’t turn out the way either of you expected, but sometimes things happen this way for a reason. Maybe the two of you had more in common than you could ever imagine?

*Again, sorry that this was so self-indulgent, thank you for reading!!*

[glorious-spoon]

"Naturally gravitating closer together" for buddie 🥰

hello and thank you! this sort of turned into a bobby POV ficlet and i'm not sure why?? anyway, here you go! (can be but doesn't have to be read as a continuation of this ficlet)

-

Bobby's not even sure they notice they're doing it. It's like watching a slow-motion dance across his backyard, the way they keep drifting back toward each other like celestial objects caught up in each other's gravity. Buck goes to get a pair of beers from the cooler and hands one to Eddie, who takes it and leans into his shoulder. Then they're off again, Eddie wandering over to talk to Christopher and Buck darting in to help Maddie catch Jee-Yun's party balloon before it floats off. A few minutes later, Eddie slips back into Buck's space, bumping shoulders and sipping his beer.

It's not that different from how they've always been. Bobby's not even sure he can put his finger on what's changed, only that there's an awareness to them now, an intentionality that wasn't there before.

"You've got your thinking face on," Athena remarks, slipping an arm around his waist and leaning into him. Bobby smiles and leans back.

"Just watching the party."

"Mmhm." She's quiet for a minute, sipping her drink. Bobby's quiet too, savoring the moment: the light breeze shifting the trees, the happy family gathered in his home, the familiar way his wife fits against him. Then Athena says, "You think they finally got it together? Buck and Eddie, I mean."

Bobby glances down at her. "What do you mean?"

"Bobby," she says, a fond, indulgent eye-roll in her voice.

"It's not my business."

"Mmhm. Could be your business, seeing as how they work together on your team."

He laughs, looping an arm around her hips. On the other side of the yard, Christopher has abandoned his barbeque wings for some kind of card game with Harry and Denny on the patio, and Buck and Eddie have closed the distance on the bench where he was sitting, pressed together shoulder to hip as they talk. And the thing is, Athena's not wrong. If he's seeing what he thinks he's seeing, it'll have to be his business, at least as far as HR forms go. But he remembers those early, heady days of sneaking around with Athena—kissing her behind the firetrucks, thrilling at every casual touch, drawn irresistibly into her orbit and the delight of something tender and new growing in the scorched wreckage of his personal life—and he can't quite bring himself to be a responsible fire captain about this just yet.

"I think I'm going to give them a minute," he says. "They deserve that."

Over at the bench, Buck says something that makes Eddie laugh and ruffle his hair. He leaves his hand on Buck's nape once he's done, the sort of half-casual plausibly-deniable touch that Bobby remembers pulling as a teenager in the back row of movie theaters. He doesn't mean to snort, but he can't quite help it.

"Oh, they're really not slick, are they," Athena observes mildly.

Bobby laughs. "It's new. It's exciting. I remember how that feels."

"Mm. You do, do you?"

"Yeah." He turns away from Buck and Eddie, and smiles down at his wife. "I really do."

[m1d-45]

my love, my god

summary: the ‘tomorrow’ you’ve been putting off finally comes, but not how you expect it to

word count: 2.6k

-> warnings: spoilers for baizhu lore/story quest, you have several nosebleeds

-> gn reader (you/yours) and aether as the traveller

taglist (+those that asked for a pt 2): @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @fleurdawn || @extremelytoastybread || @ambermondy || @loyal-to-dottore

<< first part || < masterlist >

living with aether was supposed to be easy.

you’d established a routine, your days simple. you spent your time in his library for plausible deniability, surprised at how expansive his library was. a lot of the books seemed like gifts, with little notes scrawled in the front covers. you honestly spent more of your time reading the notes than the book themselves, tracing over the handwriting.

barbara had given him a copy of a medical handbook, with notes in the margins from both of them for replacement herbs since the book was intended for use within mondstat. you didn’t try to memorize it, just skimming for a few details. some you knew, like wolfhooks or onikabuto helping to close wounds, but some was new. apparently, a diluted solution of cor lapis shavings in water could help heal broken bones, though it was noted that this shouldn’t be used in excess if the receiver didn’t have high enough elemental affinity.

a book of liyue’s local specialties, given from someone with exceptionally sloppy handwriting. there was a whole row dedicated solely to various recipe books, the one from liyue with a few extra pages tucked in.

aether liked to write in his books, you noticed, even the fiction ones. you had yet to encounter a single book that didn’t have at least one note in the margins, each in his sharp, quick writing.

‘cut lavender melon thinner than you think.’

‘who actually talks like this?’

‘when cooking for paimon, add slime concentrate to the broth.’

it was endearing. you saw so little of him in the game, most of the dialogue given by paimon. while you’d certainly gotten to know him in your time here… it was different, seeing his notes like this. it cemented the idea that you were really in your game, since what dream of yours would include the fact that ningguang had given him a journal of advice on how to deal with various poisons someone might try to use on him?

despite his expansive collection of books, he had very few historical records. the ones he did were well worn, filled with pages of notes as he tried to decipher the history of teyvat. it was sad to see, his writing becoming more desperate the further through the books you got.

‘ask zhongli for clarification.’

‘kokomi doesn’t recognize the name ‘istaroth.’ ask miko?’

‘dahri = khaenri’ah?’

‘ask zh ask dainslef. where would i even find him?’

‘even if i knew everything, would it make sense?‘

tears pricked at your eyes, and you closed the book in your hands before you smudged the writing. you wiped at your eyes, sniffling as you put it back on the shelf. it was hard not to feel bad, but even if you told him everything you knew about teyvat, would he believe you? would he still be as kind to you as he was? he was your one real anchor here, what with the world in chaos after you stopped playing… you couldn’t even point him in the right direction, since even that would raise suspicion.

maybe that was enough reading for today.

you wiped at your nose, walking for the exit to the library. when you reached for the handle, however, you spotted a smear of glittering blue across the side of your hand.

it took another drop of blood hitting the wooden floor before you realized what was happening, quickly plugging your nose and rushing to the bathroom. you took care to wipe up the drop that landed on the floor, both so it wouldn’t stain and so that nobody saw it.

you weren’t trying to die today. and even if, somehow, aether was fine with your constant lying to him, you didn’t want to ruin what you had.

not today, thank you.

despite it being where you’d first ‘landed,’ you had never been to mondstat. ever since your run in with zhongli, it was the nation you were avoiding going with him most, second only to maybe sumeru. venti, kaeya, and diluc, three of the most perceptive people in game, all in one place… it was a recipe for disaster.

unfortunately, aether was an excellent cook.

he’d decided to take his commissions from mondstat today, and only one required combat. plus, he wanted you to see the city.. and you couldn’t exactly say no to him without reason.

the first was helping wyatt find his key in dadaupa gorge. you’re not sure why he was drinking out there, but you’re not gonna ask too many questions. the gorge was beautiful in person, cranes nearly everywhere you turned… though that might just be because you were there. the wildlife had been getting more daring lately.

the second was delivering connor some mist flower corollas, carefully moved from aether’s inventory to a thick, special made bag. you got a strange look or two from the maids, but within a few minutes aether was teleporting you to the city, tunner‘s prescription in hand. mondstat was much more lively than in the game, though you supposed that was for convenience. having hundreds of npcs roaming the city, each holding their own conversations, would likely hit performance.

paimon told you all about the city, though all of it was things you already know. there’s the adventurer’s guild, there’s bennett—you both waved—and there’s ellin! that’s the statue of barbatos, boasting a height of…

paimon scratched at her head, looking up at the statue. “how tall is the statue?”

aether shrugged, holding one hand to block the sun as he tried to guess. “nobody ever said. do you think one of the sisters would know?”

“hm, paimon thinks our best bet is venti! he sits up there all the time, doesnt he?”

you looked over the statue, taking in all the details not present on it’s in-game model. even from ground level you swear you could see individual feathers carved into the rock. “you said he flies, right? i think we should ask the knights, they-” copper landed on your tongue, and you put a finger to your top lip. it came away blue.

shit.

you covered your nose quickly, the other two thankfully getting the message without you needing to talk. a napkin was pressed to your hand, and you were careful not to let any of the blue show as you switched your hand over it.

two nosebleeds with barely two weeks between them. were you sick? were the foreign bacteria finally showing face? you didn’t feel sick—if anything you’d been feeling much better physically, since coming to teyvat—but what if you were? what if it was some illness that only targeted outlanders- no, aether would have told you about that, he was too kind not to. but then why…?

you were sat in one of the pews of the cathedral, paimon sitting by your side. your eyes tracked aether to one of the nuns, but were quickly distracted by the beautiful stained glass set in the windows. shades of blue and green decorated the walls, coloring the inside of the cathedral. you couldn’t quite make out the scenes depicted, but it gave the room so much more *life* than its model. it was lived in, not just another location on a map.

“my my, traveller, you look different than i remember.”

you’re given little warning before kaeya speaks, his steps having not made a single sound. both you and paimon turned, her hands lifting in a wave while yours tightened around your stained napkins.

“hey kaeya! what are you doing at the cathedral? paimon doesn’t remember there being a service today…”

“just going for a walk.” his eyes shift to you, and you look away, in the direction aether left. the nun was back, but he was nowhere to be found. he wouldn’t leave to the winery already, would he? “who’s this?”

“a friend.”

a hand sets on your shoulder, and you jump. was it some unspoken rule not to let your steps be heard in a cathedral, or did it come with the territory?

aether passes you a small vial of a clear blue liquid, moving to stand between you and kaeya. “i talked to barbara about your nosebleed, this should stop it. a small sip will do.”

you don’t ask why he did that, instead just doing as he said. kaeya gave you an odd look but you were quick to follow paimon out of the cathedral, leaving them to it. soon enough aether joined you, and you all went back to the teapot for lunch.

it was a fluke. it had to be.

it wasn’t.

you were sitting at a table at wanmin, listening to xingqiu talk about his latest idea for a novel. paimon had helped you order, picking you out a minty drink that was as refreshing as it was delicious. you took a sip, sharing a look with aether over the rim right as a drop slid down your top lip. thankfully, the blue streak was explained by the tint of the drink, though chongyun did give you a few more odd glances than you preferred.

running into the arataki gang in inazuma city, itto excitedly showing you and aether the new beetles he found earlier. he stuck by your side, holding your hand in his as they switched to talking about tcg. they patted their pockets, searching for the cards they’d won today. a cough into your elbow was all it took for blue to mark the inside of your sleeve, and shinobu was quick to pass you a napkin coated with onikabuto dust. it felt funny against your fingers, but apparently the gang used them to patch wounds all the time when a friendly wrestle went too far.

the more people were around, the worse they were. your nose was near constantly itchy, like the world was channeling every irritant in a mile radius right into your face. any minor bump would cause at least a drop to spill down your lip, leaving you overcautious and aether forever worried. the bottle barbara gave you ran out quick, and though she ended up giving you the recipe, it was clear that something more serious was going on.

you laid on the couch, pinching a napkin around your nose while you waited for aether to finish your medicine. he’d gone outside to get the rest of the ingredients with paimon, leaving you to your thoughts.

you hated teyvat for doing this to you. you’d bet good mora that simply showing him the color of the stains on your napkins would solve whatever phantom illness ailed you, but you didn’t want to. you were happy with the life you had! you didn’t need a shining palace or the worship of the world, you just needed aether. him and paimon and your teapot, with the small herbs growing in the windowsill and crystalflies fluttering outside. why was the world so determined to get you to spill your secret? it wasn’t like he’d hate you for keeping it—at most he’d be surprised, or maybe even a bit apologetic himself.

it was stupid. shouldn’t you be the one to decide whether this was shared or not?

you sighed, the sound of the door pushing that train of thought aside. aether tapped your shoulder and you sat up, accepting the medicine thankfully.

“sorry about the delay, baizhu was dealing with another patient.”

“you went to the pharmacy?” you hand him back the bottle, looking away as you wipe off your nose.

“yep! when we got there he was mixing up a nasty smelling poultice for some other lady—paimon swears she can still smell it, even after all this time!”

“really?” you look up, satisfied you got it all off, but freeze. aether is standing beside you, and paimon’s sitting on the arm of the couch, but behind them is baizhu, changsheng loosely coiled around his shoulders.

oh no.

“one of the ingredients in barbara’s medicine is qingxin,” aether explains, “i only had so many, so i started buying them from the pharmacy. he got curious and asked about you… i hope you don’t mind?”

you barely hear him, focused on the lift of changsheng’s head as she whispers something into baizhu’s ear. he looks surprised, mostly, but also confused, and you know exactly why.

after all if he can sense god remains, he can surely sense the god.

“is there a problem, doctor?” you ask, and wait until both aether and paimon turned to him to raise a finger to your lips.

keep quiet. don’t tell him. i don’t want to lose this yet.

he looks between you and aether, clearly conflicted.

please.

after a moment, he sighs, shaking his head as he adjusts his glasses. “nothing is wrong, my apologies. changsheng, if you will..”

he begins to search through his inventory while changsheng slithers past paimon, curling around your wrist. baizhu takes out a notepad, pulling over a chair.

“aether, you’ve been coming to the pharmacy for qingxin for a little over 3 months. is that a good estimate for the length of time this has occurred?”

he glanced at you, and you nodded.

that was a lie, technically.. but it was for the greater good. baizhu would mark you some anomaly, recommend you just keep taking barbara’s medicine, and everything would be okay. you’d be fine. no stresses of godhood, no giving up your peaceful life in the realm within, nothing.

changsheng uncoils from your hand, climbing onto aether’s shoulders to get to baizhu. he doesn’t so much as blink, letting her wind back into place. what did she go to you for, then? “do any other symptoms come with them, such as nausea or headaches?”

“no, not really.”

“have you noticed anything strange about the blood? clots, maybe, or discoloration?”

you meet his pointed look, ignoring how your heart picks up. call it selfishness. “nothing.”

baizhu sighs. “are you certain? if you want this to go away, you need to be honest.”

at least you were right on one front. to get back the life you had, you’d need to give it up. while you knew neither aether or paimon would resent you—they’d dealt with gods disguising themselves before, surely they couldn’t hate you—their attitude toward you would certainly change.

your silence is clearly worrying, and you shake your head before anybody asks questions. “i’m certain, there’s nothing.”

he again looks conflicted, and paimon looks between the two of you, frowning. “uh, is paimon missing something…?”

“i’m sorry,” baizhu says finally, “but it’s for your own health.”

before you can protest, he reaches up towards changsheng. she shifts, revealing the napkin you used earlier hidden between her body and his, clearly marked with blue.

when did she-?

baizhu flicks out the napkin and paimon gasps. “i can tell they’re getting worse, and while i understand it’s your choice, i value your life more.”

aether turns to you, and you can’t read the expression on his face. “is that really yours?”

“…yeah. i put it together that teyvat wants me to tell someone, but i didn’t want to lose what we had.”

he smiles, holding out his hand. when you took it, he pulled you up off the couch and into a hug.

“you’ll never lose me,” he promised, “not even if you’re a god. not even if you’re my god.”

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

“Maybe just an outfit or two,” Kon says, blushing furiously in the direction of the mall fountain. Tim considers pressing his luck with jewelry, but figures he can sneak accessories in later. Like, subtly. Or just incredibly blatantly and shamelessly, which is probably likelier to work on Kon anyway. And shoes, while he's at it. 

“You did promise me a fashion show,” Tim reminds him. Kon manages to blush darker, but also grins. 

“Guess I did,” he says, then wags his eyebrows at him. “Think they'll let us in the changing rooms together?” 

Tim's brain instantly self-liquidates and leaks out his ears and ruins his shirt, or at least it really feels like it does. 

“I think you can always sneak me in if we have to,” he says with a smirk, using every single drop of his Bat-training to look and sound like a normal person making a lighthearted joke and not a desperately horny five-alarm fire who is suddenly thinking thoughts. 

Kon laughs, so apparently it works, thank god. 

Tim takes advantage of the granted permission to get Kon to the closest department store and clothes-hunting, which to be honest he's not particularly sure how to do correctly because he mostly shops while thinking things like “how do I make myself look like a normal teenage civilian from Bristol?” and less things like “what would my very attractive teammate who doesn't know how to be a normal teenage civilian from anywhere most like to wear?” He mostly just nods encouragingly while Kon looks at things and helps him pick the right sizes. 

Also he tries not to be reduced to a desperately horny five-alarm fire every time Kon asks his opinion about a shirt or whatever and then listens to it. 

He has no idea why he's so into the idea of Kon wearing clothes he suggested or picked out, but Jesus, he just really is. Note to self: never let himself pick out Kon's clothes if the team has to go undercover or incognito or anything like that. Outsource that one to Cissie or maybe Cassie, just for the sake of his focus. 

. . . actually, maybe not Cassie. Cassie might have similar issues to his current ones, if they let her dress Kon. 

. . . . . . then again, if he lets Cassie dress Kon, then he has plausible deniability if Kon ends up in–never mind. 

He probably needs to just stop thinking about this, he decides. Though that’d be easier if Kon stopped asking his opinion, probably. Like–just a little. 

“What about this?” Kon asks thoughtfully, looking at a mannequin wearing a fitted bright red tank top that’s half mesh and a pair of black leather pants so tight that they could pass for leggings. There are belts. And buckles. And . . . straps. 

Tim is pretty sure he’s not going to manage to stop thinking about this. 

“If you try that on in front of me, we’re getting banned from this store,” he says frankly, telling himself he’s joking. Kon laughs, so that helps. 

Tim is definitely not joking, though. 

“Maybe the fire engine red is too obvious,” Kon says, giving him a sly grin and walking past the display. “Gotta stay classy, right? Go a little subtle.” 

Tim’s traitor of a brain pictures various takes on Kon dressing up “classy” and he suffers for it. Goddammit. 

“We should get you something dressy too, actually,” he says, and Kon looks briefly puzzled. 

“What for?” he asks. 

“Well, what if I want to take you somewhere with a dress code?” Tim says with a shrug. Kon probably wouldn’t be into, like, live theater or any kind of formal concert or art gallery event or anything like that, but a nicer restaurant or something, at least. 

“I don’t think places with dress codes want me there,” Kon says with another laugh, shaking his head. 

“I don’t care,” Tim says. “I want you there.” 

Kon lets out another abrupt laugh, then flees between two of the taller racks as his face reddens again. Tim hopes that’s because he’s flustered, not because he thinks he’s being weird. 

He really needs to work on his flirting. He’s kind of just fumbling around mostly-blind here and hoping he hits on something Kon’s into. It’s not like Tim Drake is actually Kon’s type, but if Kon’s just testing the waters with a guy for once, well, he probably wouldn’t care about that anyway. Tim’s still not sure if this is just him experimenting or not. Kon hasn’t said anything about not mentioning all this to anyone, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he wants anyone knowing either. 

Kon had looked a little weird when Tim had made that crack about explaining him to his dad earlier, come to think. Being nervous about being mentioned or ID’ed would explain that reaction. 

Tim peers into the racks after Kon and finds him with a messy pile of clothes in his arms, doing a very committed job of pretending to be very invested in a table covered in T-shirts with either superhero emblems or cheesy puns on them. Tim has to repress a snort of laughter, but the idea of Kon wearing a “talk nerdy to me” shirt is objectively hilarious. He's pretty sure Kon would sooner eat kryptonite than listen to nerd talk. 

“Find anything good?” he asks. Kon grins sheepishly at him. 

“Maybe,” he says. “Wanna hit the changing rooms?” 

Tim desperately does but also probably should not. However, he also probably shouldn't be a teenage vigilante who lies to his dad about what he does all night and fights random Gotham rogues with an extendable bo staff and obsessive detective work and very little else. 

“Sure, yeah,” he says because of the part of him that stalked Batman and counted flips and broke into a memorial for a Robin costume, and then he follows Kon to said changing rooms. Kon beelines right for them, which seems weird because it's not like he's been to this mall before and they definitely didn't pass them, so–“How did you know where they were?” 

Kon grins slyly at him, adjusting the pile of clothes in his arms. 

“‘Versatile’, remember?” he says. Tim's confused for a second, then realizes–

“Did you check the store layout with TTK?” he asks in bewilderment. 

“You kidding?” Kon asks with a laugh. “More like the mall layout.” 

“Like . . . right now?” Tim asks, still more bewildered. Kon looks smug. 

“They just made a new batch of pretzels back at that pretzel stand,” he says. 

. . . Tim needs a moment. Or a lifetime. 

“You can just . . . do that?” he asks. “Feel whatever’s going on in your range?” 

“Yeah,” Kon says. “Honestly, it's kinda distracting sometimes. Makes it hard to focus, you know? So I try to tune it out when I can, but sometimes it comes in handy on the job when there's, like, a hidden door or something. Though it's easier when I'm just walking around like this, ironically.” 

Tim has absolutely no way to explain how useful “can make an accurate map of an entire mall and possibly then some just by standing in it” actually is as a skill, to say nothing of spotting secret doors or hidden safes or concealed assassins or anything like that. If he'd known Kon could do that sooner, he'd have been starting every single mission in an unknown environment by making Kon do that. 

Crap, now he has to trick Kon into telling Robin he can do that as soon as possible. Tim has no idea how Kon didn't lead with that trick, though. That is like–that is just–he thinks maybe TTK is just broken. Like, as a power. He thinks Cadmus gave Kon a literal cheat code for life, in fact. If this were a video game, Kon would need to be immediately nerfed or no one would ever play any other character. 

Tim despairs for his capacity to ever be normal about this bastard and follows him into one of the bigger changing rooms, resigned to his fate. Kon has no apparent concern for the five-item limit and there isn’t an attendant around to stop them, so he just takes the whole pile of clothes in and dumps it on one half of the bench. Tim’s not sure if he’s leaving the other half free for discards or for him, so–

“Sit back and enjoy the show, man,” Kon says as he flashes him a bright grin before peeling off his sweater, which answers that question pretty quick. Also, nearly evaporates Tim’s sanity. Kon’s literally still wearing his damn suit underneath and it nearly evaporates his sanity; what even is that? 

He is in so, so much trouble here, isn’t he.

[stonerbellybabe]

What's been the biggest change in your life since becoming fat? (bar the obvious increase in your capacity for greedily stuffing down lots of tasty treats ☺️😋😉). Thanks!

The one that comes to mind right now is availability of clothing that fits me. I started off small enough that it's taken a while for it to catch up to me, but I'm now reaching that threshold where I can't fit into straight sizes.

I've been in plus size swimwear/other stuff that runs small for a while now, so I at least had the comfort of being able to tell myself I'm not really plus sized. But I needed a formal dress and ordered some online recently, and going by the measurements on the website, I was too big for the XL. I kind of had a hard time believing that, but my measurements put me in the 1X range (not even 0X, the smallest plus size). I ordered the 1X dresses kind of expecting them to be big on me but they got here a few days ago and... they fit perfectly. There's no more plausible deniability. I'm plus-sized.

It was very much an oh shit moment. It's a very real and tangible consequence of my gain. I used to breeze past the plus sections in stores thinking they weren't for me and never would be, and yet... here we are.

[ggidolsmuts]

Sin, Hormones, and the Starlet’s Boyfriend - Le Sserafim Yunjin, Somi

A/N: Apologies for the shit gif, I can’t figure out how to do this properly.

Yunjin exits from the bathroom, sighing. It's shark week for her soon, she can already feel the telltale signs. Her usually exuberant nature has slightly floundered and flagged, becoming more quiet, and noticing things that were not quite going her way. The other members recognize it too, and thankfully they are accommodating to her, not being nearly as loud around her today.

"Hey girl!" Not Somi though, Somi has one setting and that setting is taped on "full power".

"Hey Somi!" Yunjin smiles and waves in return. "How are you doing?"

"Doing good, doing good, thanks for doing the challenge for me!"

"Of course, same here!"

"You know, maybe we should do a collab sometime, I love the songs you wrote!" Somi gushes.

"You do? Really?"

"Of course!"

"Yeah... I mean yeah of course, we should totally collab!"

"Great, you should come by!"

"Sure, how about tomorrow?" Yunjin doesn't even pay attention to what she just said until it's too late. Why tomorrow? Her inner introvert curses herself.

"Ooh that sounds good, drop by my home studio, we can work on it before we put it in front of a producer, bring your guitar okay?"

"Ah yeah, that sounds great, see you then!"

Yunjin shows up the next day at Somi's place.

"Hey, come in, come in!"

"Whoa, nice place!"

"Thanks thanks, come, do you want some water?"

"Sure that works."

"Great, anyways, so I was thinking..." Somi talks animatedly, and Yunjin responds in kind—maybe this collab could really work! Before she knows it they've moved to Somi's room, playing around on her sound setup as Yunjin plays a few chords.

"Hey babe, dinner's ready— oh!" The two of them turn around to the unknown voice. "Hello?"

"Oh hey oppa, this is Yunjin."

"Yes, from Le Sserafim right? Nice to meet you."

"Ah yes, nice to meet you!" Yunjin quickly stands up to greet him. "And you are...?"

"Oh, just an oppa I know." Somi says casually, before putting a finger to her lips. Yunjin gets the gist immediately, and mouths "Boyfriend?" to Somi. But he answers for her.

"Yes I am her boyfriend."

"Yah we had plausible deniability!"

"Oh come on, she's not stupid. Ah yes, I am just the oppa who calls you 'babe'. Anyways dinner's ready, come out to eat."

"D-Dinner?" Yunjin checks her phone—time flew by a lot faster than she thought! "It's getting late, thanks for having me over Somi!"

"You should stay for dinner!"

"No no, I don't want to impose on you and your boyfriend."

"No it's fine, we like having company, we made more than enough, right oppa?" Somi shoots a look at him.

"I umm, I will, I guess?"

"Great!"

Somi drags Yunjin to the dinner table, where there are two prepared plates of delicious pasta waiting.

"Oh, he's already made it for you two, I really should—"

"No no, sit." Somi firmly pushes Yunjin into a chair. "He can make more."

"Yep, you two go ahead, I'll just be a sec."

"What does he do? I don't think I recognize him." Yunjin asks, noting his tightly fitted shirt.

"Yeah, he's not a celebrity, just an office worker at a chaebol, you know the type." In her opinion he could certainly pass for a celebrity—good looking and fit, where did Somi even find someone like that? And where's hers? Slowly Yunjin teases out the details of how Somi met him, and she envies Somi's luck.

"Hey Yunjin," he calls out to her. "Do you like penne or fettucine?" He holds out two bags of pasta for her to choose.

"Uhh, penne's good."

"Great, coming right up." He turns away from her, and she watches him roll up his sleeves—the simple act sends a sinful thrill through Yunjin's body. Fuck, no office worker looks like that. She turns back to find Somi typing away at her phone, and Yunjin gets on her phone, not really looking at it, just trying to distract herself from thoughts of him. He's good looking, he cooks, he has a stable job, his forearms are muscular, like he could really finger—

I wish for what's for—

Yunjin shakes her head vigorously. Stop! she tells herself. He's Somi's boyfriend!

"Why the fuck does he have to be so hot?"

"Sorry?" Yunjin's blood goes cold as she hears him right next to her, a plate of pasta in his hands. Oh god did she just say her thoughts out loud?

"Ah? Umm I, umm, just the weather I mean, it's been so hot the past few days."

"Oh yeah, tell me about it, I still have to dress up for work too, ugh. Here you go." He puts the plate in front of her, and it smells delicious. Damn it, not only does he cook, he cooks well!

"T-Thanks." Yunjin quickly digs into the pasta, her face flushed. She almost jumps out of the chair when she feels a foot tap her knee under the table. Somi has been sitting across from her the whole time, and now she's looking quizzically at Yunjin. Suddenly she feels the weight of guilt, of even thinking about Somi's boyfriend like that, what does she even say to Somi?

"I, I have to use the washroom! Be right back!" Yunjin yelps before quickly dashing for the toilet. A dread fills her as Somi gets up too.

"Sure, let me show you where it is." Somi grabs Yunjin by the elbow, steering her down the hallway and into her bedroom instead of the bathroom. "What was that?" she asks, and Yunjin knows there's no getting out of it.

"I'm so sorry Somi, I didn't mean it, it just came out!" Yunjin presses her hands together, begging for forgiveness. "I would never do a thing!"

"You think he's hot?" Yunjin turns red but stays silent, but Somi doesn’t let it slide. "Answer me."

"I... yes. I'm sorry Somi!"

"Why are you sorry? Hah I mean I think he's hot too, it's part of the package, and his package is—" Somi shakes her head. "Anyways, what's going on, where's this coming from?"

"Sorry, it's just one of those times, you know—"

"You are hormonal and you're horny." Yunjin's shocked at how simply Somi puts it, but she can't bring herself to deny it. "You're not seeing anyone?" Yunjin shakes her head. "Tch, of course not, you're in a new girl group."

"I'm so sorry, I'll leave right away after dinner, or if you want I can leave right now, I'll make something up."

"No, stay. Do you want to fuck him?"

"No Somi he's your boyfriend, I can't—"

"Not can't, do you want to? If you don't say no I'm treating that as a yes."

Yunjin opens her mouth, but no sounds come out other than some weird croak. Somi smirks, suppressing a laugh.

"That's settled then, stay after dinner, tell your members you'll be late home tonight. I'll make it happen." Yunjin lets herself get shown to the bathroom, and she sighs as she looks herself in the mirror. Is she really going to fuck Somi's boyfriend? That's not like her!

But you didn't say no. The little voice in her head tells her, and her abdomen is already getting warm. Somi was talking about his package, how big is it, and maybe his arms are muscular from carrying her around— Yunjin shakes her head to clear her fantasies, but no, it's too late, she's already getting wet. Yunjin groans and tries to focus on other thoughts—she sees two toothbrushes on the counter, guess he really does live here too, do they fuck in her bedroom, maybe in this bathroom too?

Oh my god! Yunjin shouts internally before splashing water on her face. She needed to cooldown, to just go out there and eat her fucking pasta.

And pray she doesn't soak through her panties.

"Everything okay? You and Somi were gone for a long time." You ask as Yunjin returns from the bathroom, face slightly red and... wet? "You have some water on your face."

"Oh you know oppa, girl talk," Somi quips.

"Yeah, just tired, had to wake myself up." Yunjin corroborates. You offer to make her coffee, but she declines. You shrug and continue finishing your dinner. You can't help but wonder what went on as Somi tries to engage Yunjin in small talk, but her friend is strangely reticent.

"Thanks for the delicious dinner oppa, we'll be working in my room okay?" Somi pecks you on the cheek before pulling Yunjin from her seat.

"T-Thank you!" Yunjin bows deeply.

"Sure not at all, no need to be so polite." You chuckle and smile, but Yunjin only blushes deeper. You try to catch Somi's gaze, wanting to ask if Yunjin's okay, but your girlfriend ignores you, dragging her back to the room instead.

"S-Somi, are you really okay with this?"

"Yeah it's not a huge deal, better for me too, there are times when I can't keep up with him."

"What do you— Oh." Yunjin realizes what she means, and her desires that she managed to keep in check for the rest of dinner begin leaking out as she squirms.

"He's very... passionate, for lack of a better word. He comes back from work, and the first thing he does is jump me, do you know how many recordings I've had to delete because he just scoops me up and I can't even turn off the mic?"

"Oh, umm no..." No, Yunjin didn't know, but now she wishes Somi kept those recordings. "S-Sounds troublesome."

"Speaking of troublesome, the clean up, oh my god, he just explodes in you— Oops, sorry, I shouldn't tease you should I? Poor you, you must be so on edge." Somi stops, seeing Yunjin rubbing her thighs together.

"You don't have condoms, do you?"

"I think we do, but..." Somi checks her usual drawer. "Ah sorry, we must have used the last few over the weekend. Don't worry, he's good at pulling out, just tell him."

"O-Okay, that's fine." Yunjin answers quietly. The last few? Just how much sex do they have? And am I really doing this? She can still pull out— Yunjin shakes her head again, bad choice of words.

"I'll go talk to him then okay? Just give us a couple of minutes." Yunjin nods silently, not trusting herself to speak as Somi exits the room. Should she just get up and leave, just make up some excuse? She can just take care of herself back in the dorms.

I wish for what's— It's not forbidden if Somi allows it right? Right? Right?

Yunjin stays seated, silently pulling off her socks. Even that friction makes her wetter.

"Hey oppa, let me take over the dishes." You feel Somi's hands wrap around you from behind, and you dry your own hands on the towel before grabbing her own.

"Oh? You're going to do the dishes for once?"

"What do you mean for once! I always do the dishes!"

"Yes, when I have like one plate left you take over."

"Tsch fine, no, I was thinking you could do something else for me." Somi presses herself more tightly into your back, making sure you feel her generous chest properly. Her hand drifts from your waist to your slacks, undoing the button.

"Yah, isn't Yunjin still here? It's one thing to have the relationship found out, it's another to just be openly doing this while she's here!" you hiss as Somi snakes a hand into your boxers, stroking you slowly to stiffness. Despite your words you reach behind and easily find Somi's ass, squeezing her through her shorts.

"Mmm yes, squeeze it, it's gonna feel so good for Yunjin too." You squeeze Somi firmly before stopping.

"What?"

"I think my new friend in the room needs some help with guys."

"I'm sure she can find someone, she's an idol."

"Oh I meant now, like within 5 minutes. She looks like she could use a good fuck, she's been on edge since she saw you." You resume squeezing Somi's ass from behind as you process her words and pretend to "clean" the last plate.

"I see, and you want me to do the honors?"

"Well, it's clear to me she wants you to do the honors, and I could do with a break tonight."

"You say that like you're not going to come watch, and then join in."

Unbeknownst to you and Somi, Yunjin has quietly opened the door, just to see what's going on. She sees Somi hugging you from behind, but with the faucet running she can't hear you and Somi talk. What she can tell is the content of your conversation, her eyes widening as your hand drifts to Somi's ass, firmly groping her.

"Fuck..." she breathes quietly. When was the last time she was grabbed like that, when has she ever been grabbed like that? Any second thoughts about leaving are dashed—she can't pretend to leave now, otherwise it would be "catching" them in the act and make things even more awkward. Her gaze is glued to his hand, finally letting go of Somi before turning off the running water, and hurriedly Yunjin sneaks back to the room. She hears some whispers, and then a small laugh, and then footsteps.

"Hey."

"Hey..." Yunjin stands up and greets you quietly. You spot her socks strewn on the floor.

"So... Somi wants me to do whatever you want."

"I..." She's distracted by you already unbuttoning your shirt, getting flustered. You leave your shirt open and place her hands on it—it is for Yunjin to take off. Her hands tremble in yours, but she doesn't shy away, pulling it down your shoulders and off your arms. Her eyes trail down your body, and they widen as they land on your taut slacks. Yunjin bites her lower lip, and then licks her bitemark.

"Would you like me to treat you like Somi?" Your words jolt Yunjin out of her trance. I wish for what's forbidden...

I am so going to hell.

Yunjin nods, and you immediately pull her in tightly. She lets out something between a whimper and moan as you grab her firm butt—now she's being treated like Somi!

"Oh shit, oh..." she gasps as pleasure floods her body, every knead of your hand seeming to turn her on even more. You leave measured nips on her neck—light enough to not leave a mark, firm enough to not be ignored. Yunjin turns to face you, and she lets you suck on her lower lip, tugging it before letting go and hungrily pressing your lips on hers instead. Yunjin jumps when her hands land on your skin, as if she forgot she had her own hands. She makes up for lost time, hungrily roaming your back and arms, feeling your muscles.

"Y-You do this with Somi?" she gasps as you bring her down to the bed.

"Oh I do a lot more with Somi." Yunjin exhales delightfully when she feels your hand slip under her top, brushing and admiring her abs, abs that she was proud of. But pride goes before the fall, and Yunjin let's out a soft mewl as your hand falls past her abs, teasing her and landing on a creamy thigh. Yunjin is toned and tight in all the right places, and you give her the most sinful of massages, pressing into her thighs, a firm thumb making it's way up her leg.

"M-More." Yunjin's surprised with herself—somehow she hasn't covered her thighs in slick yet with how hot she's feeling right now. At your nudging she takes off her top, and you kiss the slight dip in her petite chest, making her suck a breath in—fuck she needs this! Her hips push off the bed willingly as you slip a hand beneath her shorts. You play with Yunjin over her panties, letting her soak them. She whines and groans before eventually grabbing your arm. Just feeling your muscles makes her want it, and Yunjin begins to speak her desires.

"Finger me." She has no time to react or prepare herself, and a loud cry is the result. Yunjin immediately feels stuffed—that can't be just your finger! Her head spins as you wiggle and curl the finger inside her, her walls resisting your efforts to open her up. One more finger is added, and Yunjin's mouth drops open, much like you are opening her up below.

Fuck! Her thoughts shout as you begin moving, and Yunjin can almost feel your fingerprints in her, pressing against her tense muscles, massaging her from the inside. Her own fingers are nowhere near as thick, and you have two in her! You make sure you are a knuckledragger inside her, curling and pumping her slowly, multiple points of pleasure firing off in her brain as you twist and scissor and push. You turn Yunjin into a mouth-breathing knuckledragger—she's drooling onto the bed, her knuckles grinding on the sheets as she twists and grabs what she can.

"N-No more!" She begs when you touch her entrance with a third finger.

"You can do it." Her pupils are dilated, and her breathing hastens as you slowly push in. Yunjin's mind seems so far away from herself as the pressure inside her compresses her senses, slowing her thoughts down, shrinking the area of her body she needs to feel.

No it's too much, so big, so— "So fucking good!" Yunjin squeals her own disagreement with herself loudly. It is not too much, it is fucking perfect the way your three fingers fuck her—three sparks go down her spine with every push of your hand. She grabs your forearm, feeling the muscles flex as you start pumping them inside her over and over. Her legs spread even more lewdly for you, urging you to get deeper with every moan.

"D-Deeper, more! Please more!" I need this, I'm so close! You can hear Yunjin's thoughts from her pussy, each clench and squelch a prayer for you to make her cum. She moans and throws her head back when you add a fourth finger—not inside her, but on her clit.

"Fuuuuuuuuuck~" Somi's cheeks are red as she listens to Yunjin cry out from her bedroom. There's no doubt you're making her cum, and her hands drift down her body as she remembers what you like to do to her. She wonders if Yunjin can handle it.

"Fuck me! Fuck! Mmm... Oh yes!" Yunjin hushed moans fill the room as she buries her face in the covers, trying not to be embarrassingly loud—she's back to her exuberant self, voicing her pleasure freely. She jerks when you find her g-spot, pressing on it with each finger in sequence. It becomes too much, she's burning white hot, her vision going dark. 

"S-Stop, stop! Enough." All of the non-pleasurable sensations rush back at once when your fingers withdraw—stickiness between her legs, sweat on her hair, her legs suddenly sore from being taut for too long���all berating her.

Why the fuck did you tell him to stop?! Yunjin ignores her body's complaints, focusing on a deeper hunger. You already know what she wants as she kicks off her shorts and underwear, and you begin undoing your slacks, your eyes devouring Yunjin just like she's undressing you with her gaze.

"I want you to fuck me like Somi."

"The intimate way or the rough way?" You laugh at her confused expression, like you have truly stumped her.

"There's more than one way?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"I assumed you would just, you know, pound her into the bed, rail her from behind, pull on her hair—" Yunjin pauses when she realizes she's just telling you everything she imagines you and Somi do.

"Well, that's the rough way, I guess."

"What's the intimate way then?"

"Slower, I definitely don't pull her hair, more kisses, a longer session." Fuck yes! Yunjin's hormones rage through her—that's exactly what she wants right now.

"Let's go with that then."

"Sure." You toss off your slacks, and a thrill goes through Yunjin's body as she sees the much more defined outline of your shaft. She lets you roll her over, so that she's prone on the bed, and suddenly the room is dark.

"Mmph!" You're kissing her needily, and her entire body is hot again. She quickly realizes why—you've thrown the covers over both of them, like a couple enjoying a playful night together. She trembles, your hands running down her bare shoulders sending goosebumps up her neck. You leave her for a moment to remove your boxers, and already Yunjin misses your touch. She freezes when you're on top of her, when she realizes your shaft is rubbing at her pussy lips. She's secretly glad you put three fingers in her—there's no way she can take you otherwise! She also remembers something important.

"W-Wait, I'm not safe today. If you cum in me, I might get pregnant."

"You will," you mutter in her ear, and you swear your cock got slicker from rubbing against her pussy. Yunjin looks at you steadily, and you hold her gaze, waiting for her to tell you what she wants. Her expression wavers, your slight movements against her grinding away her common sense, and all she does is turn away from you, burying her face in the pillow. That's all you need from Yunjin.

"Ah..." you groan as you sink into unfamiliar territory, and it is mirrored by a loud muffled moan from Yunjin. She definitely feels a large part of why Somi likes you. "Fuck Yunjin, so tight." She once again can only manage a muffled whine. As she's adjusting around you Yunjin is thrown off by your soft laugh, and even that mere vibration sends sparks through her.

"What?"

"Let's make sure we're equally naked hmm?" Yunjin turns red as she realizes what you mean—throughout all of this, she still had her bra on! You expertly unhook her bra and pull it off her.

"S-Sorry, I know it's not as big as Somi..." she mumbles, gasping as you reach around to fondle her.

"Don't be sorry, I'll let you in on a secret." Yunjin looks at you quizzically. Does he not like Somi's tits? Does he prefer mine? Even if they're smaller? Really? Really?! Unknowingly you dash Yunjin's hopes, but you don't think she minds.

"Guys won't care when they're balls deep in you." You thrust down sharply, burying yourself fully in Yunjin's prone body. You tighten your grip on Yunjin's chest, pulling her up towards you a little as you press your chest down on her back. You groan and grunt into her neck, reveling in her tight wetness, feeling Yunjin clench and gasp around you as your tip touches her cervix. 

"Fucking hell Yunjin, I'm right."

"W-What?" she says dreamily, suffocating under the pressure of your body on top of and inside her.

"If I cum in you, you will get pregnant." You whisper in her ear, driving the point home with another deep thrust into her creamy wetness. Yunjin was well aware, and now you know it too—she's ovulating and horny, her hips subtly pushing against you. Pinned and squirming beneath you, Yunjin has never been in a more vulnerable state, her idol career in a precarious position.

Yet she says nothing, choosing to shut you up with a needy kiss, her hand squeezing your hand on her breast, urging you to keep going. You do as she wants.

"Oh fuck!"

Somi sneaks into the room, finding no one immediately. But the moving lump under the covers is not fooling anyone, that and the muffled moans and grunts coming from it. She takes a seat opposite the bed, watching the two pairs of feet do the four feet tango. Just watching those feet is enough to get Somi to slide off her shorts—the smaller pair stay taut together, toes curling and uncurling as they lightly bounce on the bed. The larger pair of feet around them are more spread, pressed into the bed for leverage. Her fingers drift down between her legs, her lazy strokes mimicking the curl of Yunjin's toes—Somi wasn't looking to get herself off just yet.

"More, right there!" At Yunjin's prompting your legs clamp around her slender legs, lifting her feet under yours. Your hips slam against her toned butt, the light smacking sounds of flesh on flesh filling the covers. The smell of sweaty sex snuffs out all of Yunjin's coherent thoughts, your cock driving down on her g-spot sending wild signals through her body. The talkative and loud idol is reduced to a keening and groaning mess.

"Oh fuck..." Yunjin rasps before falling, dropping her head into the pillow before crying out loudly, each wave of pleasure forcing a wail from her. Her entire body is taut beneath you, small tits and toned cheeks shaking and quivering as she clenches around your cock. For a few brief moments Yunjin blanks out, her mind painted over with orgasmic bliss. And then it is over quickly, and she sags into the bed, her breathing labored and hoarse, like she's danced the hardest choreo in her life.

Things would get harder still, and Yunjin finds herself rolled on her side, a leg lifted as you press against her sweaty back. She shuts her eyes at the sudden brightness, blinded by you throwing the covers off—it was getting just a little too hot. You spot Somi at the foot of the bed, and she just does a shooing motion at you, mouthing "Keep going!" while the other hand does small slow circles between her legs. You raise Yunjin's leg just a little higher to give Somi a better view.

"Mmh! Shit! Fuck! Oh my god!" Yunjin's mouth spews foul curses as you literally fuck her sideways, plunging into her slick tightness and going deep on every thrust. You cup a breast, lightly pinching a nipple, and Yunjin croons to the sky. "Yes yes yes!"

I'm going to cum again, he's making me cum again already! Yunjin reels from the pleasure, her own hand drifting to her clit, just a little bit more, just one more touch...

"Nngh!" You grunt, pushing deep into Yunjin and holding yourself there. You throb like mad inside her, but Yunjin's ascent to climax is brought to an abrupt halt.

"D-Did you cum?" she asks confusedly. No, I was so close!

"Very close," you grit your teeth and try to ignore her clenching around you. "Last chance." Yunjin realizes what you mean—you could still pull out, cum on her thighs, or she could offer her face for you, or her mouth. As she looks down her body she finally sees Somi, but she's too aroused to be embarrassed about being watched. Rather, her thoughts go back to what Somi said earlier.

"Speaking of troublesome, oh my god he just explodes in you."

I wish for what's forbidden.

Yunjin hurries to grab your arm, feeling you begin to pull away from her.

"No don't. C-cum in me, do it in me, I want all of it." Her breath catches as a third leg rubs against her calf, teasing her.

"You heard her babe, go ahead and cum, let her feel what you make me feel." Somi's up on the bed beside you, and judging by how her breasts and stiff tips press delightfully against your back, she's naked as well. The angel and the devil—Who’s who? You wonder—are each in an ear, both urging you to sin, urging you to lead Yunjin into sin. 

You find Yunjin's neck, taking a harsh suck on her flawless skin—your bite of the forbidden fruit. Your hands go to her hips, and now you're pulling back on her, getting as deep as you can in her. You adjust your angle on every thrust, trying to find the perfect connection, you find it on the fourth try; that, or the pleasure simply becomes too great. Your tip presses against her cervix, and Yunjin seems to arch back a little, opening herself more, and the slight grip on your tip electrifies you.

I'm a—

The first explosion mess makes Yunjin gasp, the sudden warmth filling her womb. The second explosion mess makes her choke on her breath, the thickness and volume of your potent load overwhelming. The third explosion mess triggers her orgasm, as her body reacts primitively to the sensation, wanting to milk you for everything, to contain every fragment of the explosion inside her. Somi helps both of you out, a finger on Yunjin's clit and a hand on your balls, making sure you pour of it into her. She delights when her job is done correctly, a stream of cum leaking out of the connection and onto her thigh. Each rutting thrust from you makes a little more leak out, but you're still sending more into her.

Your grip weakens eventually, and you have to drop Yunjin's leg. But there's no hiding the mess between her legs—Yunjin's been properly mated. You let her roll on her back, and your load is a slow moving flood out of her. She covers her eyes with an arm, a mess and finally in de-stress.

"You okay?" Somi asks.

"Yeah, that was amazing, just... Just give me a moment." Yunjin's ferally satisfied lizard brain ponders what just happened; She just asked Somi to let you fuck her, then she had you cum in her, and she definitely needs a morning after pill now, but she doesn't regret anything at all—it was exactly what she needed.

After all that, Yunjin still blushes when she uncovers her eyes again—Somi's cleaning your cock with her mouth.

"I knew you would want to join in." You quip, running your hand through Somi's hair.

"Hurry up and get hard again."

"Bend over and I will be."

"Typical." Somi fires you a glare, but she does as you say, getting on all fours next to Yunjin. "Was he good?"

"Yeah, it was great. Thanks. Do you want me to—" Yunjin makes to get up, as if to give you two privacy, but Somi stops her.

"No it's fine, besides, I already saw you two, only fair that you get to watch."

"Yeah, I can show you the rough way Yunjin," you offer with a smirk, punctuating it with a sharp thrust into Somi.

"Ah! Fucking give it to me oppa!" Yunjin's entranced by Somi's expression, her white teeth gleaming in a near-maniacal smile even as her brow furrows slightly on every thrust. You did not start off gentle with Somi at all, and if you were getting all the way deep with Yunjin, surely you're smashing into Somi right now? Part of her shudders at the thought of how that would feel; the other part of her gets aroused again. 

She's inches from Somi's face, watching the blonde's mouth drop open, moaning freely at your rough treatment. Somi's face slackens, then her eyes shut tight, her tense body not hiding the jiggle of her breasts as you continue to thump into her. In one instant Somi's eyes snap open, and Yunjin's gazing straight into her hazelnut eyes. In the next instant Somi grabs Yunjin and kisses her.

"Nnnghmmmmm!" Somi screams into Yunjin's mouth, her tongue thrashing inside Yunjin as you drive her to a pent-up orgasm. Yunjin feels the rawness of Somi's orgasm, and she leans into the kiss, a hand on her jaw, and soon she's lost in a makeout session, their teeth slightly knocking as you keep the pacing up, pumping Somi through her orgasm. Fresh from her climax Somi is extra into it, and she drifts her own fingers down Yunjin, plunging unhesitatingly into her creamy core.

"Mmm!" Yunjin squeals in surprise, and Somi stops to look at her, biting a lip to stifle her moan a little. Yunjin blushes and nods, and soon her nails are digging into the sheets, curling like Somi's long fingers are doing inside her.

"You can grab her, you know." You put a hand on Somi's scalp and tug, opening her throat to let out loud hearty cries. Yunjin whines when Somi cums again, the busty blonde's fingers quivering and jerking inside of her own pussy. She's a little envious as she watches Somi's tits bounce and jiggle, and without thinking Yunjin reaches out for one globe, squeezing it and marveling at the softness.

"Oh fuck, yes Yunjin, squeeze me!" Somi's lips find Yunjin again, and soon they are moaning against each other. Each thrust you put into Somi shoves her fingers deeper into Yunjin, who in return gropes Somi even harder, her fingers digging into Somi's soft flesh instead of the sheets.

"Fuck, he's so deep!" Somi groans, and Yunjin nods and kisses her again. She knows exactly what Somi means, having just felt that minutes ago, and she lets Somi whine and whimper into her. That is, until you pull on Somi's hair again.

"I can't hear you babe."

"You're too deep fuck! Are you trying to knock me up too? Ah! We only have one morning after pill left, are you going to— Fuck! Decide who's going to take it?" You lean over and grab Somi's other breast, squeezing it alongside Yunjin. It makes Somi whine even louder.

"Depends, which of you is going to cum first?"

Yunjin let's out a surprised moan as Somi starts moving her fingers actively, as if determined to make Yunjin peak first. But she recovers quickly and begins playing with Somi's nipples, pinching and twisting them to produce harsh gasps. You inevitably speed up as you near your own peak, and the ending is a real photo finish.

"Nooooo! Hnnngh!" Somi grunts, peaking when Yunjin scratches a nail across her clit, and the sudden increase in pressure pulls you over the line. Your load bursts from your tip and splatters inside Somi, and the sight of you bent over your girlfriend, growling and no doubt filling her just like you had filled her earlier sends Yunjin over the top, throwing her head back and trapping Somi's hand between her legs, contracting around the fingers mindlessly rubbing on her g-spot. The three of you collapse in a heap, and you quickly roll to the side, catching your breath after two vigorous rounds with the two beauties.

Yunjin finds herself face-to-face with a flushed and satisfied Somi, and tentatively she slips a finger into her friend, feeling how tight and creamy she is, filled with your load.

"Don't... My cum..." Somi sighs, and Yunjin pulls her fingers out just as Somi does the same from her. Their fingers are both coated in your cream, and their thoughts are on the same possessive post-coital wavelength.

My cum now. A soft sigh escapes both of them as they finger themselves, cleaning their digits with their slick. Of course, their juices don't clean it off fully, so when they proceed to finger each other again, trying to get more of your cum from one another, your seed just mixes inside them. They continue swapping cum from pussy to pussy, a collab of the filthiest kind, until the erotic haze of sex and sin finally dissipates, and you're left with two blushing idols. It's a miracle that you don't get a third wind, but you truly had nothing left to give.

"Wow, I... I can't believe I did that." Yunjin voices her thoughts out loud.

"Did it feel good?"

"Yeah, but—"

"That's all that matters then, sometimes you need to cut loose from being an idol, and take care of yourself. You're welcome to use the shower if you want."

"Right, thanks." Yunjin quickly shuffles off to the shower, leaving you to cuddle Somi in bed.

"So you did join us hmm?" You peck Somi on the nose, and she giggles and kisses your chin.

"I'm surprised you didn't get hard again, I don't know what that was at the end but fuck it was hot."

"It was, but I'm all tapped out."

"Yunjin drained you that much huh?"

"Don't get jealous on me now, you wanted me to fuck her. Something about you taking a break for tonight, hmm?" You appease Somi by grabbing her some tissue to help clean herself.

"Fine, you get off easy this time."

Yunjin gets out of the bathroom fully dressed, hair tousled and lightly made up. A pang of envy goes through her as she sees you two cuddling together—maybe she too could have that one day, but not right now.

"Thanks for letting me use your shower."

"Of course. Oh wait one sec." Somi jumps out from the covers, thankfully covered in your oversized shirt, and quickly ducks into the bathroom. She comes back with a pill for Yunjin. "Here, you should take it."

"Y-You said there was only one, won't you get... pregnant?"

"It was a joke,” Somi presents her own identical pill to Yunjin. She leans in to whisper. “It makes him go a little harder, he thinks I don't know it, but he gets off on that super hard."

"Oh... okay, thanks then." Yunjin blushes at Somi discussing your kink so freely. The two of them walk out of the bedroom arm in arm, and Somi gets each of them a glass of water before downing the pills.

"There, like nothing ever happened." Somi fires Yunjin a glance, her intention clear—this never happened.

"Right, yes." Yunjin pauses as she walks to the door. "What about the collab?"

"Well, we've already worked together on oppa, I guess we can work on a song too." Somi jokes crudely, but her smile is kind. "I'll let you know?"

"Sure, thanks Somi!"

Back at the dorm Yunjin dodges many questions, most of all why did she need to shower at Somi's place, but she manages to explain it away as a bad kimchi stew spill. As Yunjin sinks back into her bed though she can't help but think of what just happened. How she already wants it again.

I need what's forbidden... I am so fucked.

She turns her head into her pillow and moans.

A/N: Welp, that was a smut alright. I will say, surprisingly Le Sserafim’s song lyrics lend a lot to inspiring fics, I guess that’s a good thing? I tried to do a play on their title name for the title of this fic, but eh, not my best effort there. Anyways, I really like the song, especially when they had that first verse in their MMA show, that Hydra performance is sick. Thanks for reading!