#everyone has been so lovely over the years and i used to feel bad when i saved them for myself coz people would think i'm ignoring them

[genjyoandgojyoandhakkai]

Answers under the cut!

I'd already started thinking about most of this because I want to continue Rook's story past the Veilguard ending. If you are interested to read a one-shot that goes a little into Xiqaa's backstory (tattoos and origin), you can find that here.

I haven't even STARTED on Xi and Emmrich yet but I certainly will. 💚⚡Hints are all throughout Despite Everything.

I'm not using Rook's name a lot in my Rookanis story, to leave room for everyone else to make their own Rook the LI, but I use it liberally below. It's pronounced "Zika" or "Shika" depending on your accent and Xi is pronounced Z by Rook herself.

Xiqaa Rook Laidir

🌻 How old is your Rook? How do they feel about celebrating their birthday? What gift has meant the most to them?

🌻36. She was born a galley slave so she knows her birth year but doesn't care about birthdays. That miiight change if her friends decide to surprise her with gifts or a party - she is learning new things about herself all the time. She got her first piece of leather armor from Fia, someone she was with for a while after she escaped slavery. It wasn't given to her on her birthday, but that was the day she started commemorating her new life, and it is what she considers her birthday.

🪻 What is the most painful injury your Rook has received? How has it affected them once it healed/scarred?

🪻Xiqaa got her lightning from touching an ancient artifact she shouldn't have. (You know, like Rook do.) It was the most painful thing to happen because she injured herself over and over before she learned to control it. She's got lightning scars all over her body, but she's proud of them because she learned a survival lesson and they look bad ass and scary.

🌹 What’s the first genuine fight Rook got in with their love interest about? How was it resolved?

🌹Rook and Lucanis don't really fight, and that's problematic. Both of them tend to internalize the problem as something they did wrong. This does come to a head once in a while, and I haven't worked far enough into their future to see what their first real fight would be. It is pretty far out there, when the two of them have no one else to run interference between their stupid misunderstandings/assumptions and lack of ability to articulate feelings. They obviously haven't resolved this yet, but it's a process, as long as they come back to each other.

🌹Rook and Emmrich fight over his fear of death (kinda); she doesn't believe in letting your fears win, and giving away your fate so easily. She is stubborn about this to a fault. Emmrich is much more open with thoughts and feelings than Lucanis, so there's potential for them to clash over more clearly stated feelings and preferences, but Emmrich is also better at mending situations so it's rare they go to bed angry with the other. They are still working on things. Rook promised not to judge Emmrich so harshly, and Emmrich promised to try and live in the moment more. (Heaven only knows what Lucanis and Emmrich will fight about...I'm really not to that point with them yet.)

🌸 Does your Rook have any siblings or close friends they see as such? Where are they during the events of Veilguard?

🌸 As a former slave, mercenary, and rebellion fighter, she is used to dropping in and out of situations - that's why she trusts and is trusted so quickly, but she didn't allow anyone to get too close. Her closest friend from her early years was a slave named Chek, and when they got to the benches, he showed her how to survive differently. From him, she learned that their masters kept them fighting against each other to prevent them planning rebellions. From Chek she learned to share, to work on a team, and to open up to another person. He escaped before she did, and she found out later he was recaptured. His status is unknown. She's been on her own for a long time, and Varric was the older brother/mentor figure she needed, after Isabela, who showed her that you can let your guard down once in a while. We all know where Varric was during Veilguard.

🌾 If there was a demon trying to trap/take over Rook, what kind would be the most successful? What would break their hold?

🌾 Rook's demon would probably be Pride. She's proud of her ability to survive on her own, and the temptation to never have to ask for help again would be strong. Breaking their hold would require someone else to show her how strength doesn't equate to solitude. Her friends drag her back from that brink all the time, without demons involved.

🌱 Was Rook involved romantically with anyone before Veilguard? What was their partner like? How did the relationship end?

🌱 Rook's first relationship as a free person was Fia, a mage living on Seheron. Fia was bold and swaggering, a fire mage fighting qunari twice her size. Xi was drawn to Fia, wanting to be someone (and be with someone) who looked tough and talked tough, and they had a few flings here and there. It was chaotic; lots of drinking and fighting and fucking. Rook discovered she didn't actually enjoy being with someone who wanted to fight at the drop of a hat, so they just kinda grew apart. It was definitely a situationship of convenience, and Xiqaa left Seheron for Rivain soon after.

🌼 If someone was to ask Spite what Rook smells like, what would he say?

🌼Sea salt and sunshine. For those of us with physical senses, it would be a hot spring afternoon when the plants are blooming; the earthy scent of green things with an indistinct floral background, and a tang of salt like sudden tears.

🌷If Rook needed to get away from their responsibilities for a moment, where would they go? Where is their safe space outside the Lighthouse?

🌷Rook would go to the old Warden fortress on the Rivaini coast to get away from her responsibilities and just watch the world. (She's not really the type to just get away from it all; when she needs to get away she just finds something else from her long list to do.) She has an affinity for open spaces and clear sightlines, and she loves the sound of the ocean. Her safe space, though, is her apartment in the Hall of Lords. She's never had a home before, and she loves having a space of her own. The floor is made of old deck planks and it's her favorite thing about the apartment.

🥀 What figure from Rook’s personal past would be added to the regret prison?

🥀Xiqaa's galley benchmate, Chek, would definitely appear in the regret prison. He was a kind person, and he taught her how to survive differently; less fighting amongst those who were already prisoners, more generosity of heart. He escaped a year before she did, and she always regretted not going with him - she loved him like a brother. Later she found out he'd been recaptured and sent to a magister who used his life force to power their spells, and Xi has always wondered if she could have gone back for him.

🪷 Does your Rook have an irrational phobia? (ie spiders or large man-made objects submerged underwater)

🪷 Rook doesn't have any phobias that she knows of. Her flaw in this regard is that she believes facing your fears makes you stronger, so she's likely to work herself into a terrible state if she discovered a phobia. There's still time to find one, though.

🍀 Has Rook had any near-death experiences? What went through their mind during what they thought was going to be their final moments?

🍀 Rook's life is made of near-death experiences. Mostly she would just close her eyes for a second and think "Well, shit. At least it's on my own terms." The first time living and not just dying free mattered to her, though, was after she found the Veilguard. Fighting for her friends became more than fighting for a cause. She truly hoped to see the next sunrise and discover more life everyday. Since she fell for Lucanis, her fear of dying without telling him how special he is to her is foremost. Also top on that list would be never having her romance with Emmrich bloom into what she envisions they could have.

💐 What is the relationship Rook has with their faction mentor? What was the moment they sent Rook away like?

💐Rook and Isabela have an easy relationship for the most part. Rook prefers the raunchy jokes and tough talk that Isabela uses, so it was easy to make that their shared language. They also share a similar devotion to wealth, doing the right thing, and a disdain for political figureheads. When a well-connected noble double-crossed Rook on their attempt to take an artifact for the Venatori, Isabela wasn't surprised at all. She also wasn't surprised that Rook wasn't sorry for killing the Venatori scum, so temporary exile was pretty much the only solution. Isabela told Rook that she went through something similar (an exile of sorts) in her past, and maybe someday they'd share stories over drinks. Rook was annoyed that politics were stronger than her new allegiances but she just shrugged it off and threw herself into the next job. That upset Isabela more than she let on, so they had some frosty moments when reuniting.

🌺 Is there an object from Rook’s childhood they look back on fondly? (ie a favorite stuffed animal, book, or food)

🌺 It's more like a compensation for not having one, but Rook just likes food. The fancier and more expensive the better. It's not a childhood memory, but a response to not having much when she was younger, and food is comforting as well as an experience with culture.

🌿 Does your Rook have any tattoos? What was the moment when they got them like? If they’re a Crow where is their de Riva brand located? What vallaslin do they have/how did they earn it if they’re Dalish?

🌿Rook has a ton of tattoos, but no vallaslin. She's elvish, and grew up hearing the legends and songs in whispers at night, but she's not Dalish. For her, tattoos they are a way to tell her life story and to choose how she appears to others. She got her first one, a pair of wings, on her shoulder after she escaped from the galleys. It was exciting to her, to have control over her entire body and even the pain meant freedom. She added a rook piece between her breasts after becoming Varric's second in command...it distracts Lucanis and Spite to no end 🤣

🍂 What was it like the first time Rook killed someone? How did they react afterwards?

🍂 Rook's first time killing someone was when she was around twelve years old. Slaves were chosen for the benches based on physical characteristics, but the smaller ones were given a chance to fight their way in. Those not selected would be sold to other houses, usually industrial work like tanning or slaughterhouses. The galley bench meant you had three meals a day and a full shift of sleep, which was an almost-human experience for a slave. A wiry kid thought he could take Xiqaa because she was slender, and he fought with all his strength and cleverness to take her life. She didn't want to kill him, but that was her only choice if she wanted to have any existence that wasn't drudgery, so she did it. She felt anger at him, more than anything else, because she was forced into taking his life. It made her sick, but she wasn't one to give up, even then.

Woe! Rook ask game be upon ye!

🌻 How old is your Rook? How do they feel about celebrating their birthday? What gift has meant the most to them? 🪻 What is the most painful injury your Rook has received? How has it affected them once it healed/scarred? 🌹 What’s the first genuine fight Rook got in with their love interest about? How was it resolved? 🌸 Does your Rook have any siblings or close friends they see as such? Where are they during the events of Veilguard? 🌾 If there was a demon trying to trap/take over Rook, what kind would be the most successful? What would break their hold? 🌱 Was Rook involved romantically with anyone before Veilguard? What was their partner like? How did the relationship end? 🌼 If someone was to ask Spite what Rook smells like, what would he say? 🌷If Rook needed to get away from their responsibilities for a moment, where would they go? Where is their safe space outside the Lighthouse? 🥀 What figure from Rook’s personal past would be added to the regret prison? 🪷 Does your Rook have an irrational phobia? (ie spiders or large man-made objects submerged underwater) 🍀 Has Rook had any near-death experiences? What went through their mind during what they thought was going to be their final moments? 💐 What is the relationship Rook has with their faction mentor? What was the moment they sent Rook away like? 🌺 Is there an object from Rook’s childhood they look back on fondly? (ie a favorite stuffed animal, book, or food) 🌿 Does your Rook have any tattoos? What was the moment when they got them like? If they’re a Crow where is their de Riva brand located? What vallaslin do they have/how did they earn it if they’re Dalish? 🍂 What was it like the first time Rook killed someone? How did they react afterwards?

[jjslvt]

BOSS ── .✦ nsfw, mdni, 18+ .ᐟ.ᐟ

[ actor!jj maybank x fem photographer!reader] 2.7k wc.

(includes v fingering, p in v sex, no anal but being bent over a wooden chair at some point, unprotected sex, rough ish? creampie, back scratching, hair pulling, use of the word “slut” & dirty talk)

notes: THIS IS THE SAME FIC; just the name has been changed to jj maybank because i felt bad using rudy’s name asdfghjkl. listen, i’m from eastern culture. to me, it was a mistake. i wanna respect him y’all plus i was thinking of jj when i wrote it as idk the actor personally. to everyone who reblogged the original, can you pls undo it

(and be safe when having sex btw!)

imagine jj maybank in his mid 20s, who somehow ended up being an actor and you’re his photographer for photoshoots. he had a sponsorship with boss clothing brand and you were immediately asked upon to take the photographs. the only problem was… you could barely fucking focus at times.

there he was in the photo studio, leaning on a wooden chair. dressed in a black wife beater and blue jeans slightly pulled down to show the boss brand underwear. he had his usual silver rings, few silver necklaces on too and a bracelet. he looked like a five course meal but you did your best to keep calm & collected since this was an important shoot.

it didn’t help that jj would be a bit flirty. he’d thrown you glances after you would snap a photo; glances that seemed to be quite teasing, cocky even, like he just knew what this was doing to you — you didn’t know if you wanted to punch him or fuck him. both?

now you two had a friendship outside of work and you did find him highly attractive though you never told him. it wasn’t always this way — you didn’t become his photographer for selfish reasons (you needed money & he loved your work. simple) but over the course of the few years you have been photographing him, you got to know him personally and that friendship easily came.

however lately, you’ve been feeling a lot more than just friendship.

you didn’t know if he already suspected it since he really was giving you some looks and comments over the last few months. even when you first walked in for this shoot, he greeted you with an ‘ah, there’s my pretty photographer, are you doing a photoshoot or am i?’ which was slightly cheeky. you brushed it off as jj being jj but you wondered a bit.

it was time to snap the final photo and what does he do? he lifts up that shirt and your eyes instantly land on that happy trail of his. you gulped, feeling your professionalism want to vanish. you had done a damn good job keeping it together externally, only zoning out maybe twice for a few seconds but you felt your heart rate pump up so much and his gaze was intensely on you. he was watching where your eyes landed and smirked a bit to himself.

your eyes couldn’t help but start roaming up to every place of his exposed upper half, your hands almost trembled holding your camera.

‘why the fuck did he have to be that hot?! SHIT, focus.’

he was totally your type, there was no more denying it.

jj cleared his throat with a slight smug expression like a sexy bastard, “you gonna snap the photo, sweetheart?”

‘he did not just call me…’ you took a sharp inhale, wryly smiling and nodding.

“of course, relax jay.” you couldn’t help but be a tad snarky because internally you were a mess — your mind was all over the place. but he only let out a chuckle at it, finding it amusing.

“ready? pose for me in three, two, one…”

and man, did he give you a damn good pose but you also took that shot well. his fans will be eating these photos up. his lips parted slightly as he gave the camera a sexy gaze while holding his pulled up shirt between his hands, a nipple showing — you could see the some chest hair on him and his biceps, which you wanted to take a bite of, being shown off. you lowered the camera now that it was over and his hands went to his sides, shirt pulled back down. you already missed the exposure of his upper body. you were officially down bad.

‘oh, fuck me.’

“if that’s what you really want… took ya long enough to say it.” he bit his lip slightly, wearing a shit-eating grin and you froze up.

had you just said that out-loud rather than in your head? oh, the panic was real.

your eyes must have widened so much because he laughed and understood.

“yeah, my pretty photographer, you said ‘oh, fuck me’ out-loud…” he was still smug and he walked over to you, meanwhile you could feel your legs shaking a little as he approached and your face going red.

‘he keeps saying MY!’ your brain screamed. but it was just like jj to speak that way.

he stood right in front of you then took the camera, setting it away before returning. tilting his head as he suddenly grabbed your chin — forcing you to look directly at him, nowhere else.

“and did you not hear my reply back?” his tone was so serious, your jaw wanted to drop.

you were lucky, it was just you two in the studio. you let out a heavy breath you didn’t even know you held as the tension was heavy enough to slice through with a knife.

“hey, did you mean it?” he asked, almost with a pleading look in his eyes while he still had a hold of your chin. he softened up, almost like needing reassurance.

you decided to just give in because you were already wet and pulsing for this — and trust, he was aching too. he didn’t seem to mind either so you bit the bullet.

“yes.” you whispered and he let out a pleasant sound of approval.

“finally y/n. fuck, c’mere.” his hand at your chin dropped to grab your side and his other free hand doing the same as he tugged you as close as possible — you leaned towards him, grasping onto that shirt and he crashed his lips against yours in a desperately, searing kiss.

your body shuddered against his as you held onto him, a pleasant noise escaping your mouth fast as you opened it a bit and he took that opportunity to plunge his tongue right in — he groaned at the taste of you as your tongues started wrestling together.

he gripped your waist so tightly and started backing you to the wall, lips never latching off yours. once he had you backed up, he started moving his face down, kissing your jawline then your neck and sucking slowly while murmuring in between, “you don’t know how long i’ve actually wanted this… all i can think about is ruining you.”

you let out gasps and pants at that, your hand going into his messy hair to tug lightly and he responded but biting into your neck eliciting a moan out of you as he started sucking a hickey to your skin.

“seriously y/n… every photoshoot with you has driven me wild. you don’t see how gorgeous you look…” he whispered hoarsely now, still working on your neck but also starting to slowly roll his hips into yours.

“sometimes i wanna be behind the camera, taking photos of you instead…. you’re a fine work of art, y’know?”

“ah, ah…” you whimpered, feeling your underwear get so damp by this point. his words only making you feel more hot & bothered. he’s looking like that and hyping you up right now? what a man.

“jj…” you let out another sweet and sinful whimper, letting your hips buck into his teasing rolls, making him gasp harshly.

“god, my name never sounded better than now. i’ve wanted to ruin you for a while, fuuuuck.”

he got off you but stayed close, taking his rings off & shoving them into his pocket — just as you were about to protest, confused, his one hand quickly slid into your pants and underwear, his middle finger sliding up your slick folds.

he stared at you so hungrily, leaning his forehead onto yours, “you’ve been this drenched for me, babe? holy shit…” he muttered.

his arousal growing tenfolds like yours — you literally felt a huge ache in your pussy, even your heartbeat reaching down there and when he pushed that finger in, you let out wanton moan right in his face.

“ohhhh!” you couldn’t help but rub yourself more into his finger.

“you know what… i’m not that surprised…” he whispered with desire, curling his finger inside you making your legs tremble more. he began his ministrations, quickly adding another finger to which you gladly took. you always imagined those hands doing something to you.

you could barely listen to him but he kept speaking in that delicious voice, “you were eyeing me up like i was a feast today… don’t think i didn’t notice.”

your core was squeezing his digits so hard, tensing already for release. his confidence was just so sexy right now — everything was making you go crazy.

“ah, ah…” you ground into his fingering even more.

“such a pretty thing… i can imagine how many filthy thoughts you’ve had about me now.” he started moving his fingers faster. he also used his thumb to start rubbing your clit.

“don’t worry, i’m filthy too… wanna cum already, sweets? all over my fingers?” he egged you on and you nodded.

“then cum, let me feel it.”

and you definitely reached your release because as he said that, he found the perfect spot to work the circular motions of his fingers. you opened your mouth but he covered it with his lips, swallowing up all the lovely sounds you produced from your first orgasm.

when you finished, he pulled away with pride and took out his hand — licking off his fingers, tasting your cum and you knew, more was coming. hell, you needed more because the sexual energy was still alive & skyrocketing.

“you taste just like how i knew you would, fuckin’ divine… like the forbidden fruit meant to be stolen by me.”

‘when did he get poetic!? what, jesus christ.’

your heart racing from the words and breaths coming rapid from the experience. those perfect hands were coated in your cum and he was tasting it. this felt like a fever dream. your need for this man coming back, increasing heavily.

you just wanted him inside of you already.

“say it, y/n.” he read you like an open book again.

“… i want you to fuck me.”

“there’s my dirty girl.” his smugness seeping back. “and i’ll fuck you. i’ll make sure this perfect photographer knows who she belongs to now.”

─────────────────────

that’s how you ended up, sitting on that wooden chair, straddling his lap with his cock thrusting up into your pussy. your arms around his neck as you held onto him, letting him control it all.

he felt frantic, gripping your waist with those strong hands and bouncing you down onto his thick cock while he would rut upwards sharply making you cry out in pleasure. he needed this so badly.

he took it slow at first but intensely, slamming so well that you saw stars almost then he couldn’t take it after a while. your cunt clenching tightly so he went faster, feeling the veins on his dick protruding and throbbing.

you were also letting him fuck you raw so you can feel every inch of that perfect manhood. your velvet walls feeling like a wet and warm haven to him.

“god, i knew you… hngh, knew you could be a slut for me…” his voice was thick with lust and strained from this pleasant feeling.

“uh, uh… a-ah!” you couldn’t speak coherently as the tip of his dick just kept kissing your womb. he was pulling you down so hard with each thrust upwards.

“letting me fuck you raw… squeezing my cock like a vice,” he panted.

“always the sweet ones… with the innocent looking faces, right baby?” he continued, feeling your hands suddenly touch his back, nails starting to dig into his skin a little.

he let out a rough chuckle, not letting up on his fast pace. “oh, you wanna mark me now? am i talkin’ too much?”

“y-yes…”

“but you love it… can feel that greedy pussy tighten up with every comment i make.”

you let out a croak because he was correct — you had no problem being his slut and letting this beautiful man do whatever the fuck he wanted right now. your body certainly took him in well, stretching for him and with much greed, engulfing him. with your blood rushing through your body feeling ablaze — your face buried into his shoulder, nipping while your nails gently grazed his back. holding back force and he noticed.

“go on, make me your artwork… mark me up, beautiful… haa.” his thrusts upwards punctuated every single word there, commanding you and your nails dug in, scratching him up.

he felt the slight pain mixed with pleasure and let out a guttural groan, “that’s it… show how much you want me too.”

you felt your walls tensing up, your second orgasm approaching and he was right there with you but he pulled out, holding your hips above his dick as you cried out, squirming.

“jj!!” ‘what the fuck?!’

he bit his lip so hard that it went red, struggling himself from that action but moved with swift precision. in no time, he had you bent over that little wooden chair (that magically held you both this whole time without breaking) and buried his cock right back into your pulsating walls. his head thrown back as the sensations were welcomed again.

“NGHH…!” your eyes squeezed shut as he was buried to the hilt again — every line on his cock rubbing against your tight walls.

he grabbed your hair as he started pounding into you fast, making the chair screech and squeak. the sound of his balls hitting your flesh echoed along with the groans and moans.

your head pulled back from his pull as he leaned his body onto your back while fucking you. you two felt the buildup rising again quickly.

his face going to the side of your neck and his tongue licking a part of it before he mumbled with a wrecked voice, “w-where… do you want me to cum?”

you had been so worked up that your lips just let out the true desire, “i-inside… please…”

he let out a low moan, dick pumping faster at the suggestion as he tugged on your hair a bit harder — his body tensing up so much as he was getting a bit sloppy and needy.

“fuck. really are my slut… gonna let me fill this pussy up, huh? even begging, what a lucky man i am… hngh.”

you were shouting out at this point because he was hitting your g-spot with those powerful, chaotic strokes. you completely submitted to him and it made him feel great, knowing someone with some fire as yours finally let every wall down.

“god, yes… i am! please, ah…!! i want i-it.”

that last plea of yours was his final straw as he let go of your hair and collapsed onto you, spilling his cum so deep into you as you also came with him. your walls had fluttered and your eyes rolled back. his dick twitched with every spurt that was painting your insides white. he let out your name in a long, deep groan.

and… well, that chair couldn’t handle it anymore as it finally broke causing you two to crash to the ground but the fall was small and not too bad. making you both somehow laugh deliriously because you two were totally in a massive daze, heads spinning from the sex.

“damn… we just did that, huh?” he roughly spoke, coming off the high and rolling off you — a grin was plastered on his face as sweat was glistening from the studio lights off you both.

“we did… haa…” you were catching your breath, barely able to move.

as he rolled to the side and slowly got up, he reached down to pull you up and keep you steady. your mixed fluids pouring out of you, dribbling down your thighs and he sighed in contentment, licking his lips at the sight. if he wasn’t so spent right now, he’d wanna do it again because that sight was a turn on.

“was that… okay?” he genuinely asked, hoping nothing went too far. “you feelin’ okay baby?”

you smiled, though still a little hazed but the high was calming for you too, “it was more than okay. it felt great… we were both into it.”

he sighed in relief then before he could say something, you made a joke, “though i can’t say the same for that chair… poor thing put up a fight.”

he snorted, pulling you in for a hug; burying his face into your hair as he murmured, “the chair is a fuckin’ legend…” he teased.

“but next time, we can break my bed, mama.”

[riacte]

Been thinking about HC fan discussion shifting over the last few years to become more focused on individual creators, and I think the reduced prominence of the Recap could be a contributing factor?

Speaking from my own experience as having gotten into HC in Season 6 along with Grian, I started watching Recap from the S6 Day One video (I was already familiar with the concept thanks to Evo in a Nutshell, which was openly inspired by HC Recap, so it was easy for me to get into), and it was really formative for getting to know all the hermits and HC in general.

I think it ties into what you said about engaging with the server as a whole, because even if you don't watch every hermit, with Recap you get to learn their names, hear their voices, and get exposed to their personality, projects, interests, and running jokes. It presented HC as an interconnected community, where all the hermits came together to create a collective art piece (the server itself). That sense of community has always been one of my favourite things about HC tbh

Recap also made it much easier for me to get into new hermits throughout s6/s7, bc I was already loosely familiar with who they were and what they were doing, so I could jump in midway through their season, or watch a one-off episode, without being too lost!

Meanwhile, with lots of people getting into HC through Life Series (and likely not being exposed to Recap), I think it's easy for people to just... stick with people they already know? And I don't blame anyone for watching people they like (time/energy for videos is limited, and plenty of my favourites are in Life Series too), but it also feels bad to see the work of so many hermits go unappreciated in their own community, especially when there was more of an effort to include them in the past :(

We need a new wave of Recap appreciation posts I think

I think this is very true. Lots of people just regurgitate Life series povs to people asking on the Reddit who to watch when you could just do Recap and didn’t they make a whole flowchart of who to watch? (Outdated but still a useful reference)

Unironically we need to bring back 2021 level of propaganda. Like whole posts on Hermitcraft propaganda that introduce all the listed hermits and their uniqueness. Sure, everyone has preferences, but they brand themselves as a server, so we should also brand them as a server. I do find it realllyyyyy weird that this phenomenon got worse after HC9 when HC9 had TCG (includes all hermits and “quirks” about them) and Decked Out (huge event that involved many hermits, including non Lifers). The hermits are literally producing merch as a server. It’s a game that appreciates each of them. The audience loves TCG too so ?? ??????

Another thing is that for me, sometimes I feel like I’m yelling into the void with my posts so I end up in a circle of people who main the same people (since we interact and talk to each other) and I don’t have the energy to do more because again, yelling into the void sucks. So I’m also part of the “problem”.

[bisexualbrainrots]

Tonight, We Are Young.

so this idea ended up turning into an actual fic, as it should be, full fic under the cut and a tag list I made for those who showed interest.

Synopsis

Tommy puffs his cig and looks at his watch: 11:45. Great, another year that goes by and once again, he has no one to kiss for the countdown. He thinks it’s pathetic, it’s not like he doesn’t have any choices, it's just… he doesn’t know if he’s ready for them, if he can dive in and allow himself to kiss— The screech of the door opening takes him out of his thoughts. He looks over from his spot on the wall and smiles at the person he sees come out. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” OR, that one time in 2012 where Chimney and Tommy kissed.

Full fic:

“Tonight we are young, so let’s set the world on fire! We can burn brighter than the sun!”

Even from the back of the bar, Tommy can hear the loud crowd of drunks chanting the song, probably tripping over their own feet and spilling their cheap drinks onto the floor as they hold each other. Tommy thinks they’re dumb, and endearing.

Tommy puffs his cig and looks at his watch: 11:45.

Great, another year that goes by and once again, he has no one to kiss for the countdown. He thinks it’s pathetic, it’s not like he doesn’t have any choices, it's just… he doesn’t know if he’s ready for them, if he can dive in and allow himself to kiss—

The screech of the door opening takes him out of his thoughts. He looks over from his spot on the wall and smiles at the person he sees come out.

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Howie’s probably just as drunk as he is, given the way he moves. He’s surprised he isn't sprawled on their booth given how much he usually drinks. Tommy’s never gotten used to drinking with Howard Han.

“Just having a smoke. What’s the life of the party doing here though?”

Howie’s one of those people that just attracts everyone, at least according to Tommy. Once he has you in his sight you are forced to become his friend. And you’ll do it gladly because… It's Howie after all.

He sees him get closer and stand beside him, leaning against the brick wall “Same thing as you apparently. C’mon give me a hit.”

Tommy smirks and reaches into his pocket, pulling out the box with their usual brand. It’s not a habit either of them are proud of, constantly being scolded by Hen and Karen when they visit and even Sal has called them out on it more than once. But what can you do, their line of work pretty much lays the foundation for substance abuse.

They will quit. One day. 

But tonight’s not going to be when that happens.

Howie grabs the box, grinning with all his pearly teeth showing. The bastard’s smile is perfect, with no proof of his smoking habits. “You are a saint, you know that?” He pulls out one of the cigarettes and puts it in his mouth, raising his eyebrows to let Tommy know he’s ready.

Tommy sighs and pulls the lighter, and is forced to put his own cig in his mouth because of the breeze that threatens the flame to extinct. Carefully covering the fire, he lights Howie’s cigarette and goes back to smoking his, putting the box and lighter back in his pocket.

Howie takes one drag and moans at the feeling, looking satisfied with the smoke reaching the confines of his lungs “God this is good. Shame we’ll probably die from this.”

“Don’t tell me, lung cancer, right?”

Howie giggles “Well, not yet, thank goodness,” they both laugh softly at the reference. Superman , 1978.

Hen likes to tease them about it, calls them cinephiles as if it’s a bad thing. So what if they love movies? So what if they know their favorites by heart? That only proves they have a liking for something. Although it is true that they may spend a little too much time watching films than the average person.

But it’s their thing, and that’s what matters.

After a few more smokes Howie looks at him “So, how are we doing tonight?”

Tommy arches an eyebrow “Apart from the fact we didn’t die last week?” Howie’s push on his shoulder makes him laugh, raising his hands as a peace offering, “Relax, I’m just teasing.”

“Not funny Kinard, not funny. And it wasn’t a bad theory!”

“I told you the basis was all wrong! How can you believe the end of the Mayan calendar is the actual end of the world?” Howie rolls his eyes at the question and takes another hit, showing his middle finger at him. Tommy just chuckles and takes a drag.

“You think Hen and Karen are already asleep?”

Howie blinks at him “Why, you wanna try and call them for new years?”

“I was thinking more like crashing on their couch,” Howie laughs at him and reminds him that they probably wouldn’t like to be bothered by a couple of drunks, especially not on New Years’ Eve. He wiggles his eyebrows at the last sentence, the alcohol letting his inhibitions down.

Tommy isn’t going to admit this out loud, but he’s sort of jealous of Hen. He’s always looked up to her on a personal level, ever since she bravely told everyone at the station off and showed how proud she’s of herself. He wants nothing more than to have even a grain of her confidence. 

He wants to know what is like to love yourself enough to go after what you want.

He takes another hit and looks at the moon, shining over them and serving as the only source of light besides a few neon signs. It's oddly terrifying, to see something that's so far away it seems foreign to you but it actually rules your life, needing it to survive. He feels as if the moon would know all of his secrets if he stood here long enough for her to get deep into his veins. 

He looks back at Howie, changing the topic “So, what are your resolutions this year?”

“Not quitting, that's for sure.”

Tommy chuckles “Amen to that,” and both men clink their cigarettes together, their own version of what they call a nicotine toast.

Howie looks at the night sky for a moment, pensive. “I think I want to find love this year,” he looks at Tommy, a sad expression on his face “Do you think that’s cheesy?”

Tommy smiles warmly and holds his shoulder for a little while. He really hopes for Howie to find someone, he deserves it. Howie has a good heart, and an even better soul.

Sometimes he thinks he doesn’t deserve Howie as a friend, especially not after the way he treated him his first months as a probie. His heart is filled with shame and regret at the memory, at the way he pushed him away just so that he couldn’t be known and found out. Nowadays he could not imagine ever letting him go, he’s been wrapped around Howard Han’s finger. And he isn’t ready to be unfolded.

“Not for one second Howie. After all, which one of us has a romcom as their favorite movie?”

Love, Actually . That’s his favorite movie, and very few people know about it. Howie was one of them.

The corners of Howie’s mouth twitch upwards, a silent nod that expresses everything words can’t “So, what are your resolutions, Mr June?” Tommy snorted a laugh, shaking his head. Howie has been teasing him about being selected as Mr June for 2013’s calendar ever since it was announced, but he doesn’t mind.

It’s actually kind of fun.

He finishes the cigarette and stomps on it before leaning back against the wall “Well… I think I’d like to take more risks this year, and obviously to amp up to 150 in the gym if I can.” Okay he is definitely trying to make it less serious, and based on Howie’s reaction it did not work.

“Tommy…” his tutting makes him roll his eyes, “That’s a good resolution, you shouldn’t try to make it more… digestible. I mean, at least yours is more doable.”

Tommy frowned, a little confused, “And why wouldn’t yours be doable?”

He didn’t think finding love in a year could be that hard, at least not for a guy like Howie. He had so much to offer, so much devotion and care that it would be crazy to think nobody would accept it. Plus, Howie's like super hot.

When a guy looked like Howie; soft raven hair, nice smile, dark eyes and crazy abs; it was hard not admire him.

Howie scoffs and gives one last drag to his cigarette before tossing it on the ground and stomping his foot on it “I can’t even get a new years kiss Tommy. I don’t think finding love would be realistic.”

Tommy blinks at him “Realistic? C’mon Howie. You,” he points his finger at him “You out of anyone here could get a kiss. Like, you could just go back in there and find any girl, easily.”

And he means it. He’s seen the way some women look at his friend, they want to talk to him, to get to know him. It’s odd to him how Howie just doesn't try to be himself around them sometimes, when he could charm them easily that way.

Howie rolls his eyes, but the rest of his demeanor shows sadness “Says the man who looks like a Greek god.”

Tommy could be taken aback, but he isn’t. Howie could be an ass whenever he was irritated or angry about something, which is why he lets this slide. He gives him that look, that ‘stop that now’ look, and ducks his head, kicking his feet against the dirty alleyway floor.

He notices Howie looks for him, leans closer to make him look at him in the eye “Hey, sorry dude I didn’t… I didn’t mean to sound that shallow. Are you okay?”

He bites his lip and raises his head, “It’s fine Howie, it’s just… you’re not the only one who isn’t kissing anybody tonight.”

Howie’s eyes widen, he looks genuinely taken back by his statement “But… W-why? How?”

Tommy hadn’t kissed anyone in so long, it was making him insane. And it wasn’t like he couldn’t just go to a club and find himself anybody, it’s just… he wanted to kiss someone who actually liked him back. Someone who would look at him as something more than just a pretty face or a good time. He yearns for that.

And it kills him inside.

He laughs bitterly “Look, Howie… I haven’t had a New Years’ kiss in like over three years. Even when I’ve dated it never lasts up to this,” he closes his eyes for a few seconds and opens them to find Howie’s eyebrows pulled together in a concerned expression “I don’t want to bother if it isn’t with someone who likes me, or that I like back.”

Howie’s lips form a soft smile, and he titles his head “There’s no one right now?”

Don’t—

“It’s not like they know I exist,” his lips tight into a fine line, preventing himself from saying too much.

Howie puts his hands in his jean pockets, his thumbs curl around the belt hoops, “Didn’t you say you wanted to take more risks this year?”

And fuck, that’s Howie poking right where it’ll hit the most. The worst is that he knows he’s right. He knows it’s cowardly to sit around and mope about what you can’t have when you could try for it. When you have the chance for it. When you could actually make a move for it.

He sighs “The year hasn’t even started yet. And it’s not like I want to kiss a stranger tonight.”

“Well that’s unfortunate, ‘cause I saw a pretty blonde out there who looked at you all night. Maybe you could try with her.”

Tommy laughs from his belly and shakes his head, if only he knew .

“Okay you don’t want a stranger, go try with someone from the B shift then, or the 133! We know some of them” And that’s the clearest sign that Howie’s drunk, because it was one of the most ridiculous ideas he’s ever had.

“I don’t think I should be kissing a coworker, Howie.”

Howie rolls his eyes “Listen man, it’s not going to be the end of the world to kiss someone tonight, regardless if they like you or not” he gets a little closer and pats him on the shoulder “You just have to enjoy it, Tommy.”

Ten, nine, eight! The countdown has started.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, feels like a lifetime has gone by and his hazy eyes meet Howie’s. He moves closer, shifting his body so that he’s in front of him.

Seven, six, five! 

He bites his lip as he sees the world in them. Sees that person that showed him he didn’t have to close himself off to new people and possibilities. And he sees the moonlight shower his face. There’s a softness that’s not easy to find in men like them, in men whose image has always been associated with roughness, where being soft means that you love.

And that made you weak.

Four, three, two!

He stays looking at those eyes. Those eyes that care for him, that love him in a way he has never been loved, that want the best for him. Those are the eyes of his dearest friend, one of the few people he thinks he’ll ever be able to trust. Those are the eyes of Howard Han.

And that… that was his mouth.

“Howie…”

‘One!’ he hears.

Fuck it , he thinks. And dives in.

He holds his jaw with one hand, curling the fingertips on his neck. It’s soft, it’s tender, it’s lips on lips that don’t kiss back. He doesn’t want to open his eyes just yet, because if he does… he fears Howie’s wouldn’t even be closed.

But then he feels movement. He feels his friend, practically his best friend , kiss him back. And that’s what truly scares him. So he pulls back.

He doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol that makes him feel like Howie was kissing back, but he can’t take it back, not now. Not when his eyes flutter open and he sees that darkness locked in on him. He’s embarrassed, so fucking embarrassed he doesn’t even think he can look at Howie.

“I-I… Howie, I’m so—” and it’s like his brain is short-circuiting.

Because Howard Han takes him by the neck and pulls him back to him, crashing their lips together. And he can’t believe it, not even when Howie’s going at it headstrong: their noses are smashing, his hand is traveling to his hair pulling it and he’s pretty much sucking his upper lip.

It’s kind of ironic that this happens with fireworks as background noise.

Tommy can’t help it but kiss him back with the same force, and one of his hands looks for stability in the wall  while the other looks for grounding in Howie’s waist. Howie’s free hand travels to his hip, keeping him there. As if Tommy was ever going to pull away from this.

He never thought his lips would feel like this, soft even when he’s trying to devour him with them. And speaking of devouring, a moan escapes him when Howie bites his lip and deepens the kiss, feeling their tongues meet sloppily for the first time. The taste of alcohol intoxicates him more than the one that courses through his veins.

Their bodies flush together, neither of them wanting to stay away for even a second. Howie’s back meets the brick wall and he groans, both from the sudden hit and the fact that their hips were closer than ever, grinding against each other.

This is something Tommy had never expected. He never thought he’d ever get to know how Howie’s dick felt like, even through his jeans. And the worst (or best?) is that it wasn’t bad.

It was glorious.

But nothing good lasts. And their stupid lungs need stupid air to breathe so they pull away, very much reluctantly if you ask them. It's in that moment where both men realize their necks hurt like a bitch, but that's not the most important thing. 

It's how they look.

Tommy's lips are crimson red and there's tiny bite marks in his cupid's bow. His cheeks have a blush that's not far off from the tone of his lips. You can't even see the blue in his eyes thanks to the way his pupils have dilated. And his hair is a mess, all ruffled and electric spikes jumping all over the place. It was going to be impossible to make himself look presentable.

Howie's not much better. Just like Tommy his lips are a burning shade of red, all plump and angry in a way that itches. There’s another, bigger kind of darkness in his eyes, the dark brown of his eyes overpowered by the black. The skin of his chin is raw thanks to Tommy’s stubble, and will probably become a problem for him in the next hours. All the signs of kissing were laid out on his face.

They were wrecked. A mess. Absolutely ruined by that kiss.

Their eyes meet, completely dazed from what just happened. It takes a while for both of them to process what they’ve done, but when it does they start laughing.

More like, burst out laughing.

Tommy hides his face in the crook of Howie’s neck, his shoulders shaking as the cackle turns into a wave of giggles. His hands hold Howie’s biceps and the other man holds his back, caressing it softly. “Holy shit, Howie.”

He can’t believe this even happened, even when he still has the lingering feeling of Howie’s lips on his. Even when his jeans feel so tight it’s a little painful. Even when he still has his body plastered against Howie’s. He still can’t believe they kissed.

And he can’t believe it doesn’t even feel weird.

Howie chuckles “That… wasn’t so bad. Not at all.” Tommy lifts his head to ask if he’s sure and that he shouldn’t lie if it wasn’t good. Howie simply arches his eyebrow and looks down at… his boner. Tommy gave Howie a boner. And that makes him laugh softly.

“Well, he also thought it was good,” it should make Tommy feel embarrassed to talk about his dick in third person, but all the shame seems to have been thrown out of the window. 

Especially since Howie also laughs about it, making the air feel much lighter.

“Did you… I mean, was it really okay? Because I was afraid you were gonna punch me or something,” it makes him wince to hear himself say that. He knows Howie would never do that and it is a wild assumption to make, but that kind of fear was always lingering inside of him. And he feels like Howie catches on to it, based on the way his face softens and the hug he receives over it, arms wrapped around him for a little longer than he was used to.

“I don’t regret this Tommy, and I hope you don’t either. I also hope you don’t become a stranger any time soon over this, I like having you in my life,” the hug ends and Howie holds him by the shoulders “Besides, now you can take some pointers from me if you want to kiss someone.”

“Hey! I’m not that bad you little shit.”

And they’re laughing.

And it’s fine.

Howie sighs “Just… promise me that you’ll take a risk every once in a while. Make a move, it won’t kill you.”

Tommy smiles at him. A genuine smile. “I will, Howie. In the meantime, I think we should get going, don't you? Traffic’s already a nightmare and I’m definitely crashing at your place tonight.”

Howie laughs and shakes his head “Fine. But not before we get a few shots, let’s celebrate a little!”

And Tommy nods, and they go back to the bar and get so drunk they can’t remember anything about that night for the next week. But that’s okay. Because Tommy’s always going to agree with any of Howie’s plans, no matter how crazy they can get.

He just hopes his liver can survive them.

Taglist! @cjlouwho @rubydaiquiri

[russeliarat]

I want the kind people who've graced my askbox in the past, present, and future that if you send an ask and I don't answer, I've kept it safe in my askbox by choice so I can privately read it when I like 🫶

[miraclewoozi]

i don’t think i’ve ever felt this deranged in my entire life

can't get you out of my head

member | fwb!vernon x f reader genre | smut, like a little tiny bit of angst? with a happy ending word count | 2.4k synopsis | so what if calling your fuck buddy every other day is a little excessive? maybe you're just in love with him. smut warnings | descriptions of female anatomy, lots and lots of kissing, some dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, begging warnings | vernon is called hansol - i don't usually do that but just go with it; vernon is kind of a sweetheart tbh this ended up being pretty soft notes | june is back !! i've really been struggling to write these past few months so i'm actually super proud that i was able to sit down and write this as fast as i did. i can't promise another fic anytime soon or any kind of consistent uploads, but i hope you enjoy this meager offering! thanks for the support even while i've been gone :) also this is based on a dream i had about vernon the other day and i could not stop thinking about it it was driving me crazy, so everyone say thank you to my brain or the sandman or whoever put that idea in my dreams because this fic is a result of it. if there are mistakes pls ignore i wrote this at 2am

the thing you remember most about hansol is his lips.

the first time you kissed him was like opening a door to a world you'd never known existed. your past hookups had been terrible kissers, or even worse—hadn't even tried to kiss you at all. you were sick of the boring, underwhelming sex with men who couldn't care less if you got off or not. but some god or being in the universe must've been looking out for you, because finding hansol was nothing short of a miracle.

it was so good, you weren't even that embarrassed when you'd desperately texted him a couple of nights later, practically begging him to come over and fuck you again. he was burned into your brain, the feeling of his mouth locked with yours seared so deep in your memory you couldn't erase him if you tried, but it wasn't exactly like you wanted to. 

he hadn't explicitly said you would only be a one night stand, but you usually didn't hang around the same guy for too long, and he didn't really seem like the commitment type anyway. but when you find something this good, you don't let it go, and somehow you both knew that whatever this was, it was too good to pass up on.

so it wasn't really a surprise when you found yourself on his couch, straddling his lap in the late hours of the night for the third time this week. 

like you remembered, his lips were warm and soft, his cheek brushing against yours as you melted into him. you could kiss him for hours and not notice the time passing at all, so focused on the rhythm of his mouth working you up more than anything you'd done with man you'd slept with before.

the heat of his hands resting on your hips sends shivers up and down your spine, unconsciously arching towards him as his tongue pushes into your mouth.

one gentle hand travels carefully up beneath your shirt, tracing the skin of your stomach before stopping at your breast, your heartbeat racing beneath his palm.

your breath is hot on his cheek as you readjust your position, slipping your knees onto either side of his hips and sinking down to straddle his lap. your clothed cunt throbs as he presses his bulge against the inside of your thigh, and you don't hold back the open-mouthed moan that escapes you as his other hand quickly reaches up to angle your jaw and guide your lips back to his.

you push your hips down a little harder on him and his nails dig into your breast. his grip tightens a little as his hips cant up against you, desperate for more pressure against his strained cock.

your eyelids flutter as his other hand tilts your chin upwards, finally breaking away from your mouth only to reattach his lips at the base of your jaw. his tongue laves over your skin before he starts to suck, and you shiver when he pulls back and cold air hits the wet patch of spit on your neck.

you have to focus hard not to drool when you open your eyes and catch a glimpse of his face, lust-glazed eyes staring up at you through his long, thick lashes, his intense gaze fixed on you.

if you ever get past this weird in-between stage of talking but not talking, maybe you'll tell him how jealous you are of his beautiful, natural eyelashes. if you ever actually get to have a conversation with him outside of calling to hook up, maybe you'll tell him how nice his lips are. you'll tell him how soft his hands are and how he's by far the best person you've ever slept with, leaps and bounds better than all the rest, and—

before you fully realize what's happening, you feel your shirt being pulled over your head and hansol's lips have made their way down to your chest. without a sound his hands roam your body, fingers drawing invisible lines over your bare skin and leaving trails of goosebumps with every touch.

he doesn't talk much during sex, or maybe you just don't know each other well enough yet for him to have much to say. aside from the way he occasionally murmurs about how perfect you are — an oddly intimate thing to say to someone who's just a friend with benefits, but coming from him it sounds so casual — the only words you ever get out of him are curses and whimpered pleas.

the only words he ever gets out of you are shamelessly begging him, please kiss me again, please, hansol; and you're always too far gone to care about how whiny you sound, because you need his lips on you so fucking bad you think you might just die without them. but he always obliges, quickening the speed of his thrusts and wrapping his arms around you tighter so he can kiss you deeper, until your lips are numb and you can still feel the weight of him holding you even hours after he's gone.

so maybe you do have a teeny tiny crush on hansol. anyone in their right mind would, and when he's finished with you tonight you're sure you won't have much mind left to even think about it. certainly this is a problem for another day, a day when you'll inevitably call him again so he can make you lose your mind all over again and you won't have to think about how much you like him, and you'll continue like that for who knows how long. 

maybe he'll get bored of you, or find someone else, or move to another city too far for you to justify travelling for a relationship that isn't even a relationship…

… but then he lets out a little groan and you fall back into reality, the reality where you've been making out with him for the past half hour and he quietly but confidently lets you know if he doesn't get his dick out soon he's definitely going to cum in his pants and not only will it make him look like a loser but he also won't get to fuck you, which is the whole reason you asked him to meet up tonight, right?

well, yeah, you guess, but a part of you knows there's more to it than that. but that's not really a conversation for right now.

you lean down to press another chaste kiss against those lips that you can't stop thinking about, and your fingers pull his t-shirt over his head before finding their way down to the button at the top of his jeans.

you've had his cock inside you more times than you think you deserve, but still your stomach bubbles with excitement as he lifts his hips and shimmies out of his pants, the outline against his briefs more than enough to make your mouth water before he slips those off, too.

for tonight, you're the recipient of his undivided attention. you alone get to have him and his perfect cock all to yourself; maybe not forever, but for right now, and that's all you really need.

he presses his hand against his bulge, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as you stand up from his lap to kick off your pants and underwear.

you must have been taking too long for his liking, though, because as soon as you're fully nude his hands tug impatiently at your waist and pull you back down onto him. 

he lets out a heavy sigh, the head of his cock pressed deliciously against your clit as you start to rock your hips back and forth.

but before long his hands bring you to a stop and he lets out his usual string of pleas to let him fuck you, and now it's your turn to sigh in relief as he pushes into you, the stretch so natural like he was the only one who was made to sit you on his lap.

he doesn't move right away. he never moves right away, whether to give you a chance to adjust or maybe because he himself can't handle the feeling. either way, you always struggle to take in a shaky breath as your walls flutter around him, perfectly thick and long that you could probably cum untouched like this if you sat there for long enough.

but as badly as you want to never move and let him cockwarm you for hours, he always eventually moves. 

he starts out slow, just a few inches at a time, a gentle in and out that's almost romantic until you feel like you can breathe normally again— right before he knocks the breath out of you, increasing his pace until the room is filled with the loud sounds of skin against skin.

he always fucks you like it's been months since he's came, even though you know for a fact it was last thursday and all over your stomach. all you can do now is hang onto his broad shoulders for dear life, nails scratching helplessly at his muscles as he carries you up and over the edge, pushing you into the first of many orgasms tonight.

sometimes he'll make a comment about how wet you get when he fucks you like this, rough and fast as he pounds into you like there's no tomorrow. and that's when you'll agree, yes you love it so much, yes he's so good, yes you need more and please, please keep going.

if it were anyone else they'd probably smirk at that, satisfied with the momentary boost to their ego. but that's what you love about hansol, is that he's not anyone else: he'll take those words and use them to somehow fuck you even rougher and even faster, so rough and so fast that sometimes tears will start to roll down your cheeks, and that's usually about when you start begging him to kiss you.

you can't help it. the way he bounces you so effortlessly on his cock, his lips parted and beads of sweat trickling down his neck, you need him bad. you want to be closer to him, closer than you know is physically possible but damn if you won't try anyway.

throwing your hands around his neck and falling against his chest, tears still streaming from your eyes as you plead with him, repeating his name over and over and over like you've lost your mind and he's the only thing left. in all honestly, maybe he is.

he quietly shushes you and tilts his chin up to capture your lips in the kiss you so badly crave, and it's everything you need and more and somehow still not enough but you can't think straight anymore when his cock is hitting you just right and his mouth is also just right and each vein, each curve, each ridge, drags perfectly along your walls and he's splitting you open and goddamn you are ruined for anybody else.

you feel like you're skirting in and out of consciousness when you cum again, squeezing around his cock so tight that even his powerful thrusts can't continue at their current pace.

it isn't long before he lets go too, holding you flush against his body as he fills you up, painting your insides white with a breathy moan, and in a weird way it makes you feel kind of proud.

you both sit there for a moment, panting as you start to come down.

without even standing up you already know your legs are jell-o, but you don't really have time to think about that as hansol lifts you off his lap and sets you carefully on the couch, leaving you with another kiss before he stands up and disappears down the hall, returning seconds later with a towel that looks suspiciously new.

you'd asked him about his bathroom towels last time you'd been over at his place. a mismatched collection of white and brown and aquamarine that he'd taken with him when he'd moved out of his parent's house, he said, he'd never really had a reason to buy a set of his own. 

the grey cloth in his hand now that he uses to gently wipe between your legs is one you don't remember seeing.

he finishes and you want him to kiss you again, but you're too shy to ask now so he leaves you again with just a kind smile this time.

you've put most of your wrinkled clothes back on by the time he comes back. he offers to drive you home every time afterwards, but you always insisted you were fine, already feeling like you'd overstayed your welcome.

this time he doesn't offer, though, just quietly sits down next to you to pull on his own clothes until you're both fully dressed.

he speaks before the awkward silence has time to set in.

"have you been seeing anybody else?" he asks, and it's probably the longest sentence he's spoken to you outside of when he's fucking you.

it takes you a couple seconds to say no. god, you sound like a loser, but you couldn't lie to him. since the very first time with hansol the thought of seeing anyone besides him hadn't even crossed your mind. just like you thought; ruined.

it takes him a couple seconds to reply, too. 

"good," he says, and you could almost swear his cheeks are pinker than usual as he admits that he hasn't been with anyone, either. "could we keep it that way?"

your breath catches a little. "yeah?"

"yeah," he answers. "whatever… this is, i like it. and i like you."

and just like that, things make sense. 

"maybe, would you, y'know, wanna stay this time?" he asks, and you can't hide the grin on your face as you lean over and kiss him again, your answer evident in the way your hand falls against his warm chest and your fingers weave gently through his hair.

everything is so simple with hansol.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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> if you want to be notified when i post a new fic, you can join my taglist here!

[flowered-mp3]

y'all ever just watch someone self-sabotage themselves to the point where it's hard to watch

[exopelagic]

I am baking cake at midnight and it is going to kill me <3

[curlyfriesgalore]

I AM FREAKING OUT IN THE TAGS AAAH!!! op the angles you chose are so cinematic. i really love the linework!!! the brush you specifically used, and the way you vary the thickness is AMAZING. argh that transition from old swan to young swan… so beautiful. ouh and the TEXT PLACEMENT. absolute cinema. so many thoughts about swansea down below...

No way gang, I finally finished the animatic yayyy, clap if u care :3.

After 2 months of hard work I finally finished my wife's animatic, ily Swansea. There are a lot of easter eggs if yall wanna catch em all (UwU)

[guinevereslancelot]

is there any worse feeling than when you feel like someone is mad at you bc they literally are mad at you

[mrfoox]

I'm kinda glad I can keep my opinions to myself but man

[malusokay]

Little things that improved my life 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Accepting my sleep schedule. I'm a night owl; I focus at night, I'm calm at night, I'm motivated at night. For a long time, I tried to fight this since everyone always preaches getting up early, but since I started accepting my natural sleep schedule, I've been feeling a lot better and have become way more productive.

"drink more water". TEA. Tea is the secret here. I will be honest, I hate drinking water; it doesn't matter if I have a cute water bottle or a cute glass, I still hate it. TEA.

Replying quickly. I used to be one of those people who get a text message and think, "Oh, I'll reply to that later", and then just forget about it entirely. Now, I text back as soon as I see the message. This has not only improved my texting anxiety (which I cause on my own by now replying and then feeling bad) but also deepened my connection to my friends. <3

Keeping my circle small and being okay with that. Over the past months, I've had this sudden urge to expand my social circle and get to know more and more people, especially after I moved in August. However, this quickly ended in what I like to call my "social burnout". I was tired, annoyed, and overwhelmed. It took a few weeks for it to settle, but I've come to the conclusion that I would much rather have a smaller circle of people who I trust and love deeply than a huge group of friends, and that's totally okay.

Wearing what I like. Even though I live in a big city, I'd still say that my style can sometimes be a bit more extravagant than what most people wear, another point is that I'm very uncomfortable with pants so I only wear skirts, which is also considered a bit odd where I live. But over the past years, I've come to accept that and have become so sure of myself and found such comfort in my style that I now just wear whatever I like, and it makes every day a little bit nicer.

Reading and writing for pleasure. Reading books outside of my studies and spending time researching topics that simply interest me is such a great way to calm your mind. Same for writing, I always like to say that to write is to think; putting your thoughts on paper in cohesive and well-crafted sentences that you can then reread and think over again is such a liberating thing to do.

Reaching out more. fuck the whole "double texting" and "no contact" thing. If you want to speak to someone because they mean something to you, then just do it. Unless they specifically asked for space, you shouldn't feel bad about wanting to be in touch with them. Many even really appreciate it when you show that you truly care. Let's stop the nonchalant act, and instead, let's face deep emotions and true vulnerability. <3

As always, please feel free to share your own little insights and things that helped you improve comments! <3

my insta: @ malusokay

love ya ･:*₊‧✩

[the-sunflower-room]

scared half to death

🌪️tyler owens x fem!reader 

☆ genre: angst, fluff, friends to lovers

☆ wc: 2.7k

☆ summary: tyler owens is not easily angered, but when the love of his life runs into an incoming tornado without a second thought, his emotions get the better of him.

☆ warnings: a very upset tyler, yelling, language

note: so i watched twisters and it was actually everything to me! the brainrot is bad and i’ve been wanting to write for tyler ever since i saw it, so here it is! this is very much the idiots in love trope because it’s one of my favorites. enjoy! :)

“Where is she?”

Tyler isn’t sure if he’s ever felt this angry before. He considers himself a fairly easy going man, always quick to make light of a situation and put everyone in the room at ease with his charming, joking nature.

But this was different. This had his heart pounding, his ears ringing. His face is flushed red and he feels like he can hardly breathe.

All because of her.

He slams the door of his truck, approaching his crew in the gas station parking lot with a look on his face that’s so completely un-Tyler that it makes them all shift uneasily.

“Where’s…who?” Boone tries weakly, unsuccessful in his attempt to play dumb. Lily rolls her eyes and elbows him in the ribs, shooting him a glare.

Tyler clenches his jaw, for once not in the mood for his friends’ antics. “You know damn well who I’m talking about.”

They all exchange glances, his uncharacteristic demeanor both surprising and concerning. This isn’t the calm, charismatic frontman of the Tornado Wranglers they’re used to.

“She’s in the RV, but I don’t think-” Dani begins, but he’s already beelining for the camper before they can finish. He can hear his heartbeat pulsing in his ears as he nearly bursts through the door, finding her sitting at the small table in the back with her head in her hands.

Her gaze snaps up at the sound of his entrance into the RV, and her face immediately drops when she sees him practically fuming. “Tyler-” she says urgently, instantly on her feet as he approaches as if she’s about to defend herself. But he isn’t having any of it.

“You wanna tell me what the hell you were thinking out there?” He seethes, suddenly towering over her with his jaw clenched and hands on his hips. She swallows thickly, nervous around this version of him. Terrified to have upset him, disappointed him.

“Tyler, I promise, I was just trying to do the right thing-” she starts again, her tone practically pleading, but he just scoffs. 

“The right thing?” He questions in disbelief, cutting her off with a shake of his head. “You call nearly getting yourself killed in the field ‘doing the right thing’?”

She squeezes her eyes shut at the reminder of what she’d done, at the venom in his voice that’s ordinarily so gentle when directed at her. Memories of what had transpired nearly 20 minutes ago flood her mind and she feels a lump forming in her throat.

“I couldn’t let our data get lost,” she whispers weakly, her gaze glued to the floor in shame. “Bullshit,” he mutters, jaw clenched as his breath picks up. His eyes search her face, grasping to understand why the hell she had risked her life the way she had.

“You don’t run into the path of an incoming EF3 to recover some stupid equipment for our disruption research,” he practically spits, his voice growing louder, more emotional.

“That equipment is completely replaceable. You sure as hell aren’t. So I want to know why on god’s green earth you thought it was a good idea to run headfirst into danger like that.”

Her breath hitches, her eyes welling up with unshed tears at the reminder of her brashness. She feels ashamed and almost embarrassed as Tyler practically berates her.

They were best friends, a pair that the rest of the team liked to call the “dynamic duo.” With a shared passion for tornadoes and a taste for danger, they had instantly clicked from the moment they met during a chase a few years ago, becoming inseparable. Which is why Tyler’s harsh reminder of her stupidity stung so painfully.

She wasn’t used to hearing him so upset, so emotional in the worst way. With her, his tone was always soft, teasing, sometimes so overtly flirty that it would leave her heart pounding and her cheeks flushed.

But this was different. Now his gaze was harsh, curses unnaturally tumbling from his lips as she struggled to explain herself. And she hated every moment of his scrutinizing stare.

“You’ve worked so hard on putting together the equipment for the disruption research. I didn’t want you to have to start from scratch…not after all the effort you went through,” she explains pathetically, her voice cracking slightly as her emotions begin to shine through.

Tyler shakes his head, stepping even closer into her space. “And you thought it was worth risking your life for?” He grits out, his furrowed brow and downturned lips looking so unnatural on his normally smiling face.

Another shuddering breath escapes her as she catches herself from revealing the true reason she’d been so careless, from baring her soul and telling him that she’d run into the path of an incoming tornado because she loved him more than anything. That the thought of his disappointed face, his devastation over months of work lost to an unpredictably large tornado, hurt her so much that she would have done anything to save that equipment.

Anything to make him happy, to be the hero that he was to her.

“I- I didn’t get hurt, I knew I had time to get at least some of it-” she stammers, but she can’t get the words out.

“You didn’t have time!” He practically yells, gripping her shoulders and giving her a gentle shake. His eyes are wide, his gaze burning as he stares down at her.

“If Boone hadn’t been close by with his truck, you could’ve easily not made it. You could’ve died,” he chokes out, his grip on her tightening. His eyes are watering now, his anger fizzling out into something more desperate, more panicked.

Tyler still remembers the pure, unadulterated fear he’d felt as she slipped out of the safety of his truck before he could stop her, sprinting out into the open field where the winds and torrential rain were getting worse by the second.

He remembers the devastated scream of her name that had ripped itself from his chest, lost to the howling winds.

He sure as hell can’t forget the feeling of overwhelming fear and helplessness that overtook him when the rain became so intense that he could not longer see her, no longer assure himself that she hadn’t been sucked up into the raging funnel or hurt by the flying debris.

It was only when he got radio confirmation from Boone five minutes later, stating that she was safe in their truck with some of the equipment intact, that he even knew she was alive.

It had been the most hopeless, terrifying five minutes of his life.

“Don’t you understand what you mean to everyone? What you mean to me?” He rasps, his voice quieter now, more broken. “Some stupid equipment for an experiment isn’t worth your life, Y/N. Not in the least.”

His eyes are tender now as they rake over her face, scanning the scrapes and cuts littering her cheeks, the patch of dried blood clinging to her temple. His heart aches at the thought of her getting hurt, even if the injuries are small.

She notices that nearly all of his anger has left his body, replaced by the emotion that had truly been brewing beneath the surface: crippling fear at the possibility of losing her.

A silent tear runs down her face at his softer, more vulnerable words, her heart breaking as she realizes the effect her thoughtless actions have had on the man she loves. He’s quick to gently wipe it away with the pad of his thumb, his touch lingering on her cheek as he gazes at her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice breaking as she chokes back a sob. In an instant, he’s enveloping her in his tight, comforting hold, cradling her head to his chest and pulling her so close to him that their bodies are practically molded together.

“Shhh…it’s alright, sweetheart,” he gently hushes, his hand stroking through her hair as she cries softly against him. He’s back to himself now, all anger and frustration long abandoned in favor of his naturally calm, caring demeanor. Through her tears, she feels herself flushing slightly at his term of endearment.

“I’m the sorry one. I shouldn’t have yelled at ya, you didn’t deserve it,” he murmurs into her ear, his arms tightening around her.

He internally berates himself for defaulting to anger when she had also probably been scared and upset. But thinking she had died in that tornado just for attempting to recover his equipment had struck something so deep within him that his brain had reacted irrationally.

He stews in his remorse for a moment longer before admitting a truth that might be a little too vulnerable, a little too revealing of his deep and unwavering love for her, but he has to get it off his chest.

“…You just scared me half to death, darlin’. I can’t lose you...I can’t. It would tear me apart worse than a damn tornado ever could.” His whispered words are so raw and tinged with devastation that her breath hitches against his chest.

Slowly, she peels herself away from his comforting embrace to get a good look at him, and what she finds makes her heart clench in her chest. 

His eyes are red and glassy, obvious signs that he’d been crying. His muscles are taught with anxiety, like every fiber in his body had been tense ever since she fled his truck. His hair is slightly tousled and she instantly knows he’d been running his hand through it the way he does when he’s stressed.

The thought that she could cause him this much worry, this much pain, sucks the breath from her lungs and makes her feel dizzy.

“I only tried to save the equipment because I knew how important the research was to you,” she whispers, her voice still shaky but full of sincerity.

“I know how much it means to you, finding a way to keep these tornadoes from causing so much damage to innocent lives. I just- I wanted to do something brave and selfless for you, the way you always have for me,” she admits softly, swallowing as she meets his gaze.

His lips part slightly at her admission, the reverence in her words staggering. Hearing that she cares for him, finds him brave and selfless, wants to return the way he makes her feel, fills his heart with a love so deep he feels like he’s drowning in it.

“Y/N, you’re-” he rasps, pausing to clear his throat when he hears how raw and weak his voice sounds.

“You’re so damn sweet. Your heart is so big. That’s what I love about you. But please, don’t be as stupid as me. I throw myself headfirst into danger so much because I don’t think first…my judgement gets clouded by the thought of helping someone and I get tunnel vision. Which has put me in one too many potentially life-ending scenarios,” he murmurs, his hands squeezing her slightly as they rest on her shoulders.

“I can’t- I won’t let you be that careless. You mean too much to me.”

Her eyes widen at the tenderness in his voice, the affection and worry dripping from every word. It feels like their conversation is breaching on something deeper, something much more vulnerable and terrifying.

Her mind is hung up on his soft that’s what I love about you. Even hearing the word love directed at her from the mouth of Tyler Owens makes her head spin and her face heat up, and she’s unsure if she’s even breathing anymore.

“Tyler…” she manages, her voice threatening to break with the overwhelming swirl of emotions running through her. She can’t help herself, knows that she’s finally going to put it out there, tell him how she feels no matter how scary it might be.

“I love-” his lips are on hers before she can even finish. The sensation of Tyler kissing her is unlike anything she’s ever felt, and she’s damn sure she never wants him to stop.

His large hand tenderly cups her cheek while the other snakes into her hair, tangling his fingers through the strands as he pulls her even closer. She gasps softly as his grip tightens, his lips moving against her own with an almost feral desperation.

The salt from her tears mixes with his sweet taste – something like honey and peppermint – and she melts further into him and his warmth. She can feel him pour every ounce of his turbulent, pent-up emotions into the kiss, and it leaves her completely breathless.

He’s waited for this moment for so long, and after thinking he’d lost her today, he’d be content to just kiss her like this for the rest of time. Reassuring himself that’s she’s still there, that she’s his. Showing her what she means to him.

Finally getting a grip on his emotions, Tyler pulls away for a moment, wanting to make sure he hasn’t misread the signs, misinterpreted what he’d felt brewing between them for so long.

But a wide, disbelieving grin spreads across her face as she fights to catch her breath, and he suddenly has no doubt that she’s been his all along.

“I’ve been waiting for that for- well, I don’t even know how long,” she laughs breathlessly, slightly woozy from his intoxicating taste.

He huffs a laugh in return, his eyes shining with an overwhelming adoration for the woman before him. “Yeah…I think Boone might owe Dexter and Lily some money,” he jokes softly, his thumb gently brushing her rain-soaked hair away from her face.

His eyes roam over her, taking in every inch of her muddy clothes, her scraped up hands, the shallow cut on her temple. Regret courses through him at the way he’d raised his voice at her, even if it had been out of fear of losing her.

“Are you sure you weren’t hurt?” He murmurs, his voice lower and more serious than before. She gently nods, her hand moving to rest on top of his own as it cups her face.

“I’m ok, promise. It’s just a little scrape from slipping in the mud,” she reassures him, sensing his lingering gaze on her slightly bloodied face. She can practically feel the apprehension in his stare, his constant worry for her well-being so endearing that she just wants to kiss him again and again.

“I promise, Ty. And I swear, I won’t do anything like that again. I just got lost in the moment and didn’t think before acting.” He nods slowly, letting the sincerity in her voice wash over her and comfort his racing mind. 

“You’d better not,” he teases softly, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. “If we’re doing this thing, no more running headfirst into tornadoes, you hear? Can’t have my girl acting like an irrational daredevil like me. I’ve been told she’s smarter than that.”

She feels herself blushing as he calls her his girl, the title rolling off his tongue so naturally that it makes her heart skip a beat. Tyler watches as a hearty laugh escapes her and she leans into his touch, his own smile growing wider.

Suddenly nothing else has ever mattered beyond this moment of her in his arms, blushing and laughing like he’s the funniest damn man in the world.

“Ok, alright,” she giggles with feigned exasperation. “No more running into tornado paths, I swear. Wrangler’s honor. But you have to swear it too. You’re an adrenaline junkie and a trouble maker, even more than I am.”

He chuckles at her playful jab, his body feeling lighter than it has all day as he finally lets the tension within him fade. She’s safe, he tells himself over and over. She’s alive, she’s teasing him like she always does, and she’s got him smiling like a damn fool.

“Baby,” he mutters with that teasing glint in his eye, “you need to get my head checked if I ever run away from you and into a tornado. No man in his right mind would leave a gorgeous thing like you for some wind.”

Before she can reply to his ridiculous comment, he captures her lips once more with his own, relishing in the way she smiles against him as he pulls her closer.

This is all Tyler’s ever wanted - all he’s ever needed. Just her, safe and sound, loving him in all his flaws and worry for her.

If her running into that damn field led to this moment, this reality where she’s finally his, then so be it. He’s never been more grateful for a tornado.

[imafoolishfragilespine]

i'm just like ugh i gotta figure out where to get this x ray and when i should do it this week and i'm just worried about walking in without an appointment even though it says you can and like them not having the machine or a person to do it or whatever since i went into one place on the list already and they did not have x-rays

and then i've got this birthday thing which idk where it's going to be so idk if i should take a lyft or not and then i'll have to either exercise in the morning or choose that as my skip day

and then i'll just be worrying about my test results and not knowing if the doctor is going to call before my follow up or WHAT is going to happen and i just. cannot relax.

i just want to be done with doctors i really fucking do like just tell me what's wrong and let me be DONE like this follow up is gonna be the eighth fucking time i've seen a doctor in some form since all this weird shit started and if i don't get any answers i'm gonna be mad. i mean i'd rather not get bad news of course but i figure things are already mildly crappy in my body so like it's not like i can't get used to that i just can't stand the idea of it getting worse

[cheeseceli]

Skz meeting a pretty fan

Pairing: Ot8!skz × Gn!reader (individually)

Genre: fluff, just a tiny little bit of angst, headcanons

Description: their reaction to meeting a pretty fan during a fan meeting

Warnings: kind of love at first sight trope, delusional, some of them are dramatic, they are all idols, not proofread

A/n: the way it's been over a year that this has been in my drafts | daily click

Bang Chan

He was kinda of tired already so he was zoning out

When he sees you he is like "...oh"

He is so invested in your conversation

If you comment about the production behind the music he will be so happy

Genuinely loves when someone acknowledges his work so his eyes will shine and he will smile so hard while explaining everything to you

He is upset when you need to move on to the next member

Sees you laughing with the other members and he's like 🤨

Wonders what they did that managed to make you laugh that much

Lee Know

He would stare at you

You know when his mouth is open and you can see his eyes shining?

Yeah, that's him right now

You say hello and he would give you his nervous laugh before looking at you again with those stary eyes

I swear he is such a softie

Would listen to every single word that you say, you can tell he is paying so much attention

Autographs something for you and makes a funny drawing as well hoping you'd laugh

Side eyes the staff when they say the time is up

Even when you move to the next member and other fan is talking to him, he would still look at your direction sometimes and get so flustered if you catch him looking at you

Changbin

Starts small talk right away

Will 100% compliment you

You ask him an autograph and he wonders how bad would it be if he gave you his number instead

Like he knows he cannot do that

But maybe if he was sneaky enough...

Doesn't do it by the end but he low-key regrets it for the rest of his life

He will wake up one day after five years and be like "damn I should've given them my number"

And he will make that everyone's problem

The boys can't stand it anymore because they've heard enough about you by now 😭

Convinces himself that he will see you again one day

Hyunjin

He sees you before you see him, so he is panicking

Is looking at the line all the time wondering if you will want to talk to him

Asks han if his hair looks good before it's your turn to talk to him

No but fr, he can't take his eyes off you

When you start talking he is like 😯

You look and sound like an angel, he must be in heaven

Even after the fan meeting he can't stop thinking about you

If he's feeling bold enough, he will definitely flirt with you

Low-key forgot he was an idol and was ready to risk it all for you

Han

Might believe in love at first sight after your meeting

Compliment him once and he will get so shy

Like sir, weren't you the one flirting like two seconds ago🤨

Would feel so betrayed if he isn't your bias LMAO

He has like a minute and a half to convince you he's the best stray kids member and he WILL try that

And he hopes that someone will record his flirty antics and post it on tiktok just so he can find your socials

He will make all the boys stalk the internet to try to find you

"but you can't contact them even if you find their account, so what's the point?" idk bro but he wants to see you again somehow

Felix

SUCH A FLIRT

The moment he looks at you he is already trying to win your heart

Kinda forgot he was an idol pt.2

Except he didn't forget

He just doesn't care

He wants to flirt with you and that's precisely what he will do

Will even flirt through his autograph if he can

Uses any kind of excuse to make physical contact with you ✨

And side eyes the staff when they tell him it's time to move on

Like no it's not??

Seungmin

Actually pretty good at hiding his new crush??

The most normal one out here surprisingly lol

He will be able to cover it up as just "good mood" but let's be for real

It's because of you

Anyways

Will smile so much

If you compliment his smile (please do!) he will get shy but so so happy

Also steals glances when you go to the next member

He'll be talking to the next fan but ends up laughing because of something he heard you say to another one of the boys

The fan is like ?? but Seungmin is able to play it off

I.N

So dedicated to give you a good impression

If you tell him your favourite skz song is one of his solos (or that your favourite has that title because of his vocals) this man is in heaven

Forgot he was an idol pt.3 except he didn't forget

He just lowkey very lowkey didn't want to be an idol in that exact moment

Had it been on any normal occasion he would probably try to charm you over

But this was his job

He couldn't possibly get delulu over a fan 😭 although he was already midway to that

Ends up covering a song you said you thought would fit his voice

Sees the comments of the cover wondering each one of those were yours

Masterlist | you'll probably like: unrequited love

Reminder that this is all fiction, this does not represent the members in real life!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143 @sleepyleeji @jinnie-ret @sheraayasherrecs

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto | Images 1, 2 and 3