#how do i fuck up friendships this badly how is this a repeated thing that has happened since 14?
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devotioncrater · 2 years ago
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nekropsii · 7 months ago
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i would like to ask you what your basis for calling kankri "canonically aroace" is? (other than celibacy which is not a conformation of said orientation as it as has religious ties and can also be an act of purity, not strictly a part of aroace culture)
like I'm genuinely curious where you find it canon?
My basis is that Kankri identifies himself as AroAspec. I have said this many times. I’m not pulling this out of thin air or saying that Celibacy is the same as being AroAce - though in this case I’d argue those things are clearly being attached to one another by means of false conflation, in the same way Hussie was attaching Horuss’s traits of “Otherkin” and “Being a System” - I am repeating the fact that Kankri explicitly identifies himself as AroAspec. He is using specifically AroAspec language to do so.
… And making the argument that since Hussie was being quite mean about it by making his identity not make sense and also stereotyping it quite badly, and also conflating it with Total Sexual and Romantic Celibacy (which are choices), it is best to just take Kankri as fully AroAce, since that was clearly what Hussie was going for. It’s like taking Horuss as a normal System. Horuss and Kankri’s minority identities have literally the exact same problem in writing.
Very interesting how people react to this train of thought, by the way. It’s not a controversial statement to me, I’ve always operated under this mode of thinking, and I do not particularly get why people freak out about it… Especially when people will generally agree with this line of thinking when it’s literally any other identity. If a character is a meanspirited representation of Trans People, then people will generally accept them as a regular, straight up Trans Character. Same goes for if they’re Gay, Lesbian, Bi, Non-White, Disabled…
What’s the difference? Inability to romantically ship them? Easy solution - Just acknowledge that friendship is not only a valid form of relationship but also can be more meaningful than romance for five fucking minutes. Jeez, lol.
Fun Fact: Kankri is the only character whose orientation is specifically identified in words in Homestuck.
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meta-squash · 28 days ago
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Torchwood Fic Recs
Here's a bunch of fic recommendations for excellent Torchwood fics that I've had bookmarked. Many of these are from the old days of Torchwood fandom and never got transferred to ao3, so there are quite a few livejournal links and a few wayback machine links. Anything that I had bookmarked on lj that got transferred to ao3, I'll link the ao3. I may put my own notes/descriptions in brackets after the fic summary.
Proof Of Your Existence by sarcasticchick - Can you offer me proof of your existence? How can you? When neither modern science nor philosophy can explain what life is. [In which Ianto is more than what he seems.]
What Lies Within by xtricks - Ianto becomes contaminated with an alien. Jack will do whatever he can to hold onto him, even as he changes. [Link goes to the last chapter, which has all the others linked. TW: tentacle sex, which is partly metaphorical and partly literal.]
Conversational Japanese, Plus Frogs by james - Tosh and Ianto have been taken prisoner. They cope.
PTSD: Post Torchwood Stress Disorder by waldo - It's been two and a half years since Canary Wharf. It's been a year since Lisa. And Jack is just now realizing what the real toll has all been on Ianto and the other survivors of Torchwood One. Now he needs to fix a big thing done badly before anyone else dies.
Notebird by cyus - A note points to nowhere and a bird comes from nowhere, and Torchwood, in the wake of their teammates’ deaths, finds that some experiences shatter things into pieces too small to be fit back together.
Second Look by remindmeofthe- Sometimes, you get a chance to see the past through a different pair of eyes: your own.
The Cartography Of Feeling by sholio - "We're sodding gladiators," Owen said. "Fuck this entire day and Jack Harkness too." (Or: Owen and Ianto are abducted by aliens and forced to arena-fight. But the worst part might be the control device that connects them in an emotion and pain-sharing bond.)
Forget, Survive, Repeat by d8rkmessngr - He came to Torchwood, to Jack, for Lisa. But now she's gone and Ianto isn't sure what there is he has left. Post "Cyberwoman".
I Had No Idea I Had Been Travelling by kalichan & rm - It's not how you die; it's how you live, especially when your life is built of stories. And in the end, all lives are. [This fic is incredibly long, but it is absolutely beautiful, and most of the segments can be read individually. I'm of the opinion that everyone should read this fic. It's the Torchwood fic I continued to think about for years even when I was focusing on other fandoms.]
Hourglass by lazuli - Death is not the only form of loss. Torchwood grieves the loss of Owen and Tosh, and something strange is wrong with Jack. [Link goes to wayback machine, but all chapter links work.]
The Cricket And The Bird by solsticezero - On the nature of immortality and the longevity of birds.
Like The Wind by clarrisani- Sometimes all you can do is run. [Mild Owen/Ianto, leaning closer to friendship.]
More Richer Than My Tongue by sanginmychains - Ianto needs to get some space after the events of Cyberwoman. Jack comes along. They get rained on, and discuss their relationship.
Got That Friday Feeling Again by NancyBrown - HELP HELP HELP HELP I AM TRAPPED IN A TIME BUBBLE The magic marker all over the nice chintz wallpaper bled and smeared as Owen wrote in increasingly desperate lettering across the walls. Ls and Ps dragged down, wiggly at the end or drawn out in slashed strokes.
I Am Not My Own by methylethyl - "Torchwood's disability pay is about this big--" Ianto held up his thumb and index finger, about two centimeters apart. "--and comes out of a gun at a thousand meters per second."
Disinterred by seize - "What is a man? A miserable little pile of secrets." Ianto makes a discovery, and learns there are things he probably doesn't want to know. He asks anyway. [TW: torture.]
Frames Of Reference by echo - There's a difference between 'mostly alive' and 'mostly dead'. Sometime it's just hard to remember which one is which, especially when you get right down to the details.
Do Not Go Gentle by mcparrot - Reeling from the deaths of Owen and Tosh, Gwen and Ianto watch helplessly as Jack acts erratically. They assume it's just his way of mourning - until he disappears.
Tea And Sympathy by osprey_archer - Soon after Jack's disappearance, Owen takes sick. Ianto goes to check on him. [Some wonderfully unhinged Owen/Ianto fic]
Before You Know It by yuma - In all honesty, he should have been expecting it. He was there when boys, not yet men, suffered what was first called shell-shock, then combat fatigue, to the neatly packaged politically correct acronym.
Sweet, Delicious Despair by marchling - A group of strange suicides comes Torchwood's way when the police can't figure out why happy people with everything to live for are suddenly taking their own lives for seemingly no reason. The team is on the case, but there are no leads… Until one of their own is threatened. [TW: Suicide]
The Subject Of Mourning by jesuisgourde - Gwen had said Those poor girls. But both were dead, victims of Torchwood, of circumstance, of the most destructive kind of loyalty and love. Owen could only think Poor Ianto. The dead were dead. The living had to keep living with the pain. Owen and Ianto in the immediate aftermath of Cyberwoman.
In Your Image by blackbird_song - Jack and Ianto sitting in a tree: Torchwood-style.
Object Permanence by solsticezero - After the events of Exit Wounds, Ianto is left with lingering anxieties about the safety of the people he loves.
[a brief interlude for paperclipbitch fics. she's been my favourite torchwood writer since the early days. please read all of her stuff.]
If You Pass Go, Do Not Collect £200 by paperclipbitch - Ianto is sent to rescue Owen from 19th Century London, but he’s less than impressed by what Owen has been doing to survive.
Untitled Series 2 AU by paperclipbitch - “Come on,” Ianto sighs, and Owen falls into his side like he's just been waiting for the invitation. [Owen/Ianto]
Clinging To The Wreckage Until I Got The Message by paperclipbitch - “You need something other than this in your life, Owen,” Ianto murmurs. [Owen/Ianto]
People That I Wasn't by paperclipbitch - Jack and Ianto have to deal with death in all sorts of ways.
Hamartia by paperclipbitch - “Don’t you start,” Owen snaps, turning on him. Ianto doesn’t even bother to look up from where he’s inspecting his fingernails. “Going to hit me again?” he asks lightly. [Owen/Ianto]
It Will Bleed You Dry by paperclipbitch - Europe is dying. But Jack refuses to let his team go.
Like There's A Part Of Me That I Want To Get Back Again by paperclipbitch - Ianto Jones, in his crisp pinstripe suit, the remains of a black eye still mildew-green on his face, frowns a little at Owen Harper and says: “Have we met before?” [Owen/Ianto]
No Sense Of Direction by paperclipbitch - After Gwen finally leaves Owen, Ianto is left to try and pick up the pieces. [Owen/Ianto. Link goes to the last chapter of the series, which has links to the previous chapters]
Beautiful Lies by remuslives23 - "Truth is beautiful, without a doubt; but so are lies." Ianto and Jack after the events of the Lost Souls radio play.
Shooting The Messenger by salmon-pink - Jack gives the orders, Ianto obeys, and Owen thinks that maybe everyone has lost their minds, himself included. [Owen/Ianto PWP]
All The Stars In The Sky by lasersforeyes - Sometime after the end of Jack's world, he meets meets someone familiar in an unfamiliar place, and realizes that somehow, things just keep going.
The Dominant Line Between Life And Death by ladyflowdi - In the space of a heartbeat, between the rhythmic pulse of life itself, Ianto’s world is split in two. There is only the Before and the After, the Once Was and Is Now, as if someone has cut him right down the middle, a perfect sagittal seam that has equal parts guts, eyes, and heart. He is coexisting with himself, and the other Ianto won’t stop screaming.
Passing Currents by feathereddino - Gwen assists with clean-up after a case is finished. [This fic is pretty Gwen-bashy/old school fic Gwen characterisation, but the rest of the concept and other characterisations are so fun and spot on that I want to rec it.]
No Word For Yes by copperbadge - Someday he will have a Jack-to-English dictionary. Though it will contain more than just the words, he supposes. And be unsuitable for children.
Life Lived Without Thinking by pocketmouse - While exploring the lower levels, Ianto steps through a doorway, and disappears into blackness. [Owen/Ianto, ish]
Roses In December by remuslives23 - Memories of better times assailed him, snippets of his life ticking over in his mind like flashes of scenes from a film, faster and faster until he couldn't breathe then the floodgates flew open, and he couldn't stop the crippling pain from bending him in two.
Management Of Dead Bodies In Disaster Situations: A Field Manual by heddychaa - Darragh Edmonds is a so-called "disaster specialist". Called to the site of tsunamis, earth quakes, floods, terrorist attacks, he takes up the grim task of putting order to human remains, and he does it well. Cleaning up after a biological attack on Thames House should make for a comparatively easy day for Darragh: after all, the bodies of Thames House have even been so considerate as to pile themselves right at the front door for him. That is, until he's sworn to secrecy and sent, alone, to collect two bodies from the building's eerie top floor.
Confluence by cmdr_spadge - Once Lisa is dead, it's Owen who decides what to do with Ianto.
Interstitial by sholio - They jostled around each other for a while, bouncing off each other's sharp and broken edges—and then they started to fit, like puzzle pieces that couldn't click together until they found just the right angle. [Owen/Ianto]
do not go gentle by someawkwardprose - His hands were shaking. Lisa was dead. They’d killed her, the whole bloody team, and he hated them. Lisa was dead, and he wasn’t.
Simile by echo - After being trapped, beaten, terrified, and deprived of sleep, Ianto is desperate to get away from the activity surrounding the village. Unfortunately, with a concussion and any number of unknown injuries, that's not really a good idea.
Separated by AuthorInDistress - When the Toclafane attack during the 'Year That Never Was', Owen and Ianto survive that hell together.
C12H22O11 by Jane St Claire - Sometimes things turn up right in the Hub. It's a big time-saver. [A creature falls through the rift. It might be more than what it seems.]
Writing The Truth In Blue by pecos - The glimpse of a pink dress shirt in the rubbish skip was enough tweak Jack’s curiosity. What he eventually found led him to realize what he was about to lose forever.
I also have a number of old deleted classics saved, stuff by rcmclachlan (I just have From Which Come All Things, which is the important one imo), rexluscus, and lawford, and a few others, so if you're an old fan and want those, dm me!
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elliegoose · 1 year ago
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Big mental health/life post, because i really wanna put this stuff down on the page and could use the feeling of being heard right about now.
in the summer because of some unfortunate stuff i moved halfway across the country to live with my parents. then some other stuff happened that ended up incidentally triggering some really extreme bipolar episodes--that's why i was in the psych ward a couple months ago and also why i took an unannounced hiatus from this blog for most of october--and ever since then i've been just... struggling kind of a lot.
i feel disconnected from my art, my sexuality, cooking, music, and most things that have been important to me. i don't feel the sense of home that i used to have out in texas. i'm anxious and down most of the time. i feel especially disconnected from the kink communities that used to be kind of the center of my online social life. this has been a particularly difficult emotional blow to endure and a particularly large reason why i've felt so awful.
in the past month, i've developed an inexplicable social anxiety that's horrible to deal with as someone who's normally very outgoing and who used to find socializing very easy. now, though, i'm often just filled with self-doubt and panic while trying to socialize with people, which is making it incredibly difficult to keep building the new friendships i've started to foster out here in my new city.
i'm just doing the best i can every day, attending my IOP program, applying the skills i've been learning there as diligently as possible, keeping up with my hobbies (for as disconnected as i feel from art i'm still doing quite a bit of it, and picking up the banjo has done so much to sustain what little of my mental health i still have), getting out into nature, going to a lot of fun events (drag shows, happy hours, full moon rituals, ttrpg/boardgame nights, furry meetups, folk musician meetups, etc.) and hanging out with the folks i meet there as often as i'm able even despite all my newfound social anxiety, but even with all that i'm just... persistently in emotional pain that i don't know how to effectively alleviate.
i know part of it is that i'm out of work, and i know having a job will give my life more structure, but i also know that's not the whole of what's happening here. i've been out of work before and it's not affected me this badly. it's also that i'm lonely, deeply unsure of myself after making some unwise decisions and having to face so many of my flaws, grappling with my disproportionate senses of shame, anxiety, and responsibility, yearning for more purpose and autonomy than i currently have, wanting to feel like i'm contributing to something larger than myself, and anxious after going through so much chaos and repeated disruption and loss.
i'm glad my IOP demands sobriety because it's been a struggle to not use alcohol as a crutch.
fucking... life. it's been a goddamn year for sure.
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 2 years ago
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The Perfect Jacket
Eddie's leather jacket had gotten ruined in the upside down. Did Eddie pout about it? Yes? Did Steve hate seeing him pout about it? Absolutely. Eddie and Steve were hanging out at Steve's house when Steve suddenly rushed upstairs. He came back with his letterman jacket.
"You know what would really piss people off? If you showed up to school wearing this. You can put your pins and patches on it, too. You could totally pull this off," Steve said eagerly.
God, Eddie wanted to kiss him so badly. He just grinned and took the jacket from him.
"Are you sure about this?" Eddie asked.
"Yes! Keep it!" Steve exclaimed.
"Thanks, man," Eddie said and slipped on the jacket. "How do I look?"
"I told you that you could pull it off, and you do," Steve replied cheerily.
A few days later, Eddie stumbled into Family Video wearing the jacket, and Steve cursed under his breath. Eddie waved at them as he wondered away to pick out a movie.
"Fuck, he's cute," Steve said.
"What?" Robin asked, her head snapping to look at him.
"I said, "Fuck, he's cute," Robin," Steve replied.
"Yeah, I heard you," Robin said. "But, you do know that Eddie is a guy, right?"
"No, Robin, I completely fucking missed that obvious clue," Steve bitched at her.
It was his favorite thing about his friendship with Robin. They could be as bitchy with each other as much as they wanted to and it wouldn't bother them, not one bit. Apparently, that was also Eddie's favorite thing about Steve’s friendship with Robin. They were entertaining. The Bitchamigos, Eddie called them.
"You like guys? Since when?" Robin asked.
"Since Eddie. I'm bisexual, Robin," Steve said.
"And you just accepted that?"
"Yep."
"No panic, whatsoever?"
"Nope."
"You were just like,"Oh, hey, I like Eddie. I must be bisexual. Cool." ?"
"Yep."
"That's not fair! I totally panicked when I realized I liked girls!"
"We're not the same person, Rob," Steve replied.
"What are you two gossiping about, ladies?" Eddie asked as he leaned against the counter.
"I was just letting Stevie here know that his hair looks totally awful today," Robin said, glaring at Steve.
"No, it doesn't!" Steve and Eddie exclaimed. Robin smirked at the both of them.
"Cute jacket, Eddie."
A couple of weeks later, Steve invited Eddie for a sleepover, allowing him to show Steve the Star Wars movies that Eddie had been begging him to watch. Steve couldn't say no to him. Eddie was sitting on the couch in a pair of shorts and a t shirt, hugging the letterman jacket close to his chest. Eddie was sucking on a ring less knuckle as he moved his body with the ships on the screen, making the noises as he did so. God, he couldn't believe how fucking gone he was on this huge nerd. He hadn't planned on telling him, but he couldn't help it.
"You're so fucking cute," Steve said and Eddie whipped his head to look at him, his chocolate brown eyes wide.
His hair was up in a bun, and ringlets of curls framed his face. His hair was still slightly damp from the shower he had earlier, so his hair was curlier than ever.
"Come again?" Eddie asked as he paused the movie.
"You're so fucking cute," Steve repeated.
"You think I'm cute?" Eddie asked and hid his face inside the jacket.
Steve cupped his face and tilted it so that Eddie was looking at him. He began to kiss his cheeks, his nose, and his forehead. He planted a kiss wherever there was a spot available, saving his lips for last. Eddie giggled. Finally, Steve leaned in and placed a gentle kiss to Eddie's lips.
"So fucking cute," he said, gazing at him with a look of complete adoration.
Eddie grinned, launching himself at Steve and doing the same thing to him: kissing his face before finally landing on his lips. The kiss was sweet and gentle, their lips slotting together as if they were two lost puzzle pieces finally reuniting. They laid down on the couch to finish the movies while wrapped up in each other's arms. Eddie's head was tucked under Steve’s chin as he placed a hand over his heart, their legs entertwined. Steve’s arm was wrapped around Eddie's jacket clad back.. His hand slipped underneath the jacket and his shirt to run circles in the small of Eddie's back. Eddie let out a sigh of contentment. Perfect.
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buckybarnesss · 1 year ago
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Newer fans latching onto Theo is, like, kind of baffling to me, because the moment I saw him I was like, "This is a low-rent, generic version of season 1 Derek."
And that thought just never went away.
Admittedly, I don't like any of the new characters except for Liam (even though he is just Jackson-lite.) Mason is Diet Danny. Hayden, the white boys I can't remember (there are like three or four characters I could not pick out of a line-up if you put a gun to my fucking head), and Theo's pack are just... they're okay, but I have no opinions on them whatsoever.
I famously do not like Malia, and I'd rather watch Malia struggle with her homework than watch the baby wolves. To this day, I have not seen all of season 6A and my interest in 6B ends and begins with "Oh, Derek's back!!"
apparently it's a bit controversial to say theo was purposefully presented by the narrative to be a derek mirror.
derek's absence in season 5 is a vacuum. he was such a huge, significant part of the narrative that his absence is a black hole. like, there was a purpose to scott bringing derek up to stiles and for stiles's to get all gooey at seeing the initials DH at senior scribe.
it set up how stiles and scott are coping with derek's absence.
scott is trying but he didn't realize how much he learned from derek, how much he leaned on derek's knowledge and experience and how for granted he took derek's presence. which is realistic to their relationship.
stiles is straight up Not Dealing With It and it's Going Badly.
teen wolf loves, loves, loves to reference, reframe and repeat it's own narrative. the issue stiles and scott have with theo is exactly their whole difference of opinion about derek from s1-2 but in a shorter time frame.
theo is exactly what scott thought derek was early on: a lying, power hungry sister-killer. but scott was wrong about derek and in trying to course correct that error he is wrong about theo.
the other function theo performs narratively in season 5 is being a dark stiles mirror.
both stiles and scott in both season 5 and 6a are scared of change. they are scared of their relationships changing. their rapidly approaching adulthood is scary.
the nogitsune changed stiles and it's something neither scott or stiles have really confronted. theo is obsessed with void stiles and prods at that trauma for stiles while he presents himself as scott's long-lost bestie tapping into scott's fears about stiles and the longing for the friendship they had before all this started.
theo's doing a lot of things in season 5 tbh. he's got so many assignments lol.
theo's pack is just kind of there because for theo they were merely a means to an end. the only ones that mattered in the end were hayden and corey.
i do like corey when he's around and hayden was just wasted in my opinion.
(bonus: i once mentioned that liam and mason were jackson and danny but like three spaces to the left on the subreddit and people were very confused by that and i was like "....do other people not see this?" jeff notoriously keeps throwing spaghetti at the wall till it sticks)
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meowzilla93 · 9 months ago
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this is a rant, vent, jumble of words im feeling and need to get it out of my system because im a little done
please scroll along if you dont wanna read, or dont, i dont control you
it never ceases to amaze me just how cruel people in fandoms can be. cruel, mean, hyprocritical, straight up dumb.
dont get me wrong, these people are a minority. i have found myself amongst the best sort of people in fandoms i am a part of and couldnt be happier for the friendships i have made from them.
but this incredibly loud minority piss me off to no end. i stay away from any sort of discourse, silently watching from the background and watch thing blow up over trivial matters, and then learn who to avoid in those circles and move on with my life
but when i see, what i consider to be blatant bullying, to someone i hold dear, i dont want to be quiet anymore. im not a loud figure, im a tiny blog that loves to simp over 2d characters, a tiny stream channel that i interact with like minded people. and i mean i am TINY, im barely a blip on this wide web. so anything i say, it doesnt go anywhere, so still, i stay silent until i cant anymore.
so lets get to the crux of the matter.
if you dont like a character, you dont get to make others feel bad about liking them. i dont care if you think they are problematic, if you dont like their story, their look, or simply the fact that they exist
you dont get to make someone feel bad for finding a connection with them and loving them
you dont get to attack them about liking the character, passively or aggressively, you dont get to make fun of them and any of the work they do around them. you have no right to take it upon yourself and make someone feel like they dont belong just because they like a character that you dont
if you dont like the character, dont fucking interact, its that bloody simple. scroll away. mute the tag, mute the channel, whatever. just walk away
interacting with someones content for the pure purpose to make fun of it is cruel. you are making it public that you want to demean the person for what they enjoy. and the worst thing is, if you catch the attention of the younger audience, they learn that they get to act that way, and this kind of online activity only gets worse
it already has gotten worse. man, im a millenial and i thought keyboard warriors when i was in highschool and older where bad. these days the younger generation feel justified to think that they can say whatever they want and suffer no consequences of those actions. i see it in so many fandom discourses. its horrible
but they learn from the worst of us on the internet. the more they see the cruel interactions, the more they think its okay to act that way. and without a doubt, fandoms will end up being incredibly toxic environments that people wont feel comfortable to exist in anymore.
every fandom has a toxic space, its unfortunate but it is true. i wish it wasnt
and the smaller the fandom, the louder this toxic group is
it just fucking sucks. and watching people i care about be treated so badly hurts because all i can do is be their support. an ear, a shoulder, just someone they can vent to. but it doesnt stop the fact that they got hurt and i cant do anything about it
god i dont even know what this even turned into. im tired, im upset, im just so frustrated.
why cant people just be nice?
if you managed to read all the way down here, man i applaud you. that was a great mess of thoughts, i still have many more but at this point i feel like i would be repeating myself
please, just. be kind guys. its not that hard, i swear it
to all my moots, honestly, i love you guys. seeing all your work and love you put into your creations gives me life and brightens my day. dont ever stop loving your craft and your fav characters just because someone decided to be a prick.
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thephantomcasebook · 5 months ago
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they’re saying it’s olivia and matt, i don’t particularly care for actors dating but given how nasty their fans are to each other (and how badly they want olivia to be gay and dating emma) it’ll cause more toxicity on here if it’s true, no doubt
https://x.com/cerseify/status/1822673349337895115?s=46
I mean ...
Why does anyone care?
Why do fandoms care about the actors real lives? They're actors and actresses, they're already not real people! I guarantee you, from a lot of experience, they're probably the least interesting people in the world. Their life and money is repeating things that people write for them.
Directors, Writers, Stuntmen, and Key Grips, are far more interesting conversations than actors and actresses.
The only way I care about an actor or actresses personal life is if it's effecting - negatively - the show I like.
That's why I cringe at Olivia Cooke and Emma D'Arcy's friendship in real life. Because, they're so immature and unprofessional that they can't put it away to play the characters as they should be played. They've made themselves and their relationship a focal point of HOTD when it shouldn't be.
There's a lot of stories of actors and actresses becoming incredibly close on set, sometimes so close that they become family in real life. Michelle Dockery and Laura Carmichael from "Downton Abbey" Have been so close, for so long, that they're practically sisters and their real biological sisters even hang out with each other without them. They've basically created a real life integrated family from over a decade of close friendship due to being on a television set for six years.
But when they're on "Downton Abbey" they play sisters that are sworn enemies since childhood. And you know what? Not only do they play it well, but they enjoy scheming and fighting one another on screen. They were actually disappointed when their characters buried the hatchet and became closer as sisters because they enjoyed being antagonistic to one another.
That's peak professionalism, being as close as sisters in real life, but putting it away to play enemies so well that they made the audience believe they don't get along in real life, because, they play the characters as bitter rivals so fucking authentically.
This is the difference between Michelle Dockery and Laura Carmichael acting like grown ass women in a professional setting. And Olivia Cooke and Emma D'Arcy acting like children trying to bend the story to their real life wants.
Also, I'll never understand why these fucking weirdos want Olivia Cooke and Emma D'Arcy to be gay so bad. Not only has Emma D'Arcy been in a committed relationship with the same boyfriend for over a decade, but Olivia Cooke has put up on her Instagram really thirsty and TMI posts of how much she loves penis for years.
It's fucking strange, even for this fandom.
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joaniscruzing · 6 months ago
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not a fanfic, just a little random thing i wrote
so i was dealing with some stuff ✨ and decided to write this. I don't know how this all got in my head and how i even wrote this, but enjoy? i guess? this isn't a fanfic, just something i imagined in my head.
“Why do you even talk to me?” you asked her. She showed up at your doorstep, six months after the last time the two of you had a real conversation, to which all she had to say was about how she had so many other plans, yet she came to spend time with you.
“What do you mean why? Aren’t we best friends?” she answered back, in that nonchalant way you hated. You hated how she could easily not care about anything, and forget some of the most crucial, important details. How could she forget? How she had asked you why you were how you were, and why you didn’t go the same path as her.
If only she knew that you’d give anything to be like her, for that to be who you are, and how you’d fake it if you could, but she was the one who taught you to be who you are with no regrets.
“Do best friends choose someone they barely know over someone they’ve known almost all their life?”
“I’ve known her three years. I can hang out with her if I want.”
“When do I ever see you now? Huh? We go to different schools, and you have your pretty friends, with their pretty gold jewelry, and perfect hair, and I have my friends, with their dyed hair, and baggy jeans, and obscure interests. Just admit it, you don’t like who I am now and you decided to talk to her to try and hide it a bit.” you see her eyes well up with tears. Oh, how bad you feel. But if only she had seen how hard you had been crying the night after you spent the whole day trying to rekindle something from the ashes of the friendship you now had with her.
“You know it’s not like that. You’ve always been like this. Pushing things out of proportion. Not leaving things as is, and instead, dwelling on every silly little thing you can think of.” she gets out, quietly, a small tear rolling down her face.
“You know, I was crying in the car, right next to you, and you didn’t even notice at all.” you whisper, voice breaking from incoming tears.
“There were people there. I didn’t want to cause a scene.” You make a mental list of literally everything else she could’ve done. She could’ve talked to you when you two were alone, or pulled you aside to see how you were doing. She could’ve texted you later to see how you were.
But she didn’t even notice you were missing when she was with all her other friends.
And what were you going to do? List all that to her? You would’ve sounded fucking insane.
“Alright, whatever.” you say, those thoughts racing through your head.
“You never answered my question.” she repeats. “We’re still friends, right?”
“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice raising in pitch as you pace, walking in circles, your hands in the air. “Are we still friends? Because last time I checked, you wanted nothing to do with me. You stopped saying hi to me the last few months of school we had together before we went to different schools. When I tried sitting at your lunch table, I felt like a fish out of the water, because, not once did you make an effort to include me. In fact, how about how you would just REPORT to me every stupid thing those kids would say about me. Hm? How do you think that made me feel?”
She begins to try and explain herself, but you keep going.
“I was there for you when you needed me the most. When you were too scared to talk to anyone, and they made fun of you for being so quiet, wasn’t I there for you? Didn’t I do what I thought was the best thing for you at the time? I have needed you so badly these last two years, and all you’ve done is made my situation much worse. On top of having to deal with all my problems, I had to worry if I even had a true friend in my vicinity. You know what? If I’m being honest, up until last September, from the time you decided that I wasn’t what you needed anymore, I had no one. No one at all.”
“You have to understand,” she tries to explain, “I’ve had my things too, recently.”
“And I would’ve been there for you. All I wanted was my best friend. I wanted her to hug me and tell me everything was going to be okay. I didn’t want her to tell me that I couldn’t date my crush because it was against the ‘rules.’ I didn’t want you giving me looks every time I said anything that had to do with me liking girls. I would never have told you if I had known it would be this way.”
“I’m a woman of God. You know that.”
“God never had a problem with being gay.”
“Is this what this is all about? That I didn’t welcome you with open arms and give you something rainbow when you told me you were gay?”
“I just wanted you to be there.”
“Well aren’t I here now?”
“How long are you going to be here, before you go back and decide not to talk to me for another six months?” She opens her mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.
She leaves, leaving the door for you to close. You watch her drive her car out of your driveway, because, unfortunately, you do still care about her.
You still think about the perfect memories you made with her, almost every single day when you were younger.
You still wish you could work things out with her, put this all behind, but deep down, you know it’s long over.
You have your best friend, the best one you could ask for, you’re no longer alone anymore. You realize that your best friend is hundreds of times a better match for you than the girl who just left your driveway. Taking a deep breath, the millions of things you wanted to say to her off of your chest, you finally accept it.
Accept the fact that it’s with a heavy heart that you finally accept the death of the friendship with your first real best friend.
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chroniclyst · 2 years ago
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okay. takes a deep breath. i'm no longer having an active meltdown. i may go through and clean up those posts. but here is my official statement; my apologies for the length:
the end of tisbe's and my relationship was a big fucking mess. we both did things that hurt each other very badly. i'm not going to lie and say that i was a perfect angel and faultless victim, because i wasn't. i got angry when i was hurt, i said things i shouldn't have, i should have been more compassionate. i take issue, however, with tisbe wrongfully portraying me as a manipulator and an unsafe person. i am someone who tries very hard to be kind and compassionate to people, and if i make a mistake or hurt someone, i do what i can to correct it and then work to learn from that and repeat it. i have fucked up and i will probably fuck up in the future, but i always have and always will try to be someone who improves the life of others. when tisbe broke up with me, it was after i had apologized for the things i had done and without giving me a chance to try and do better by her, when they bare minimum implied that xe would. i feel the way they seem to have talked about me does disservice to the work i am constantly putting into my own growth and towards doing my best to be good to people.
with regards to the accusation of cyberstalking: that is something that had grounds in reality. i am not proud of this. i had a friend from 8th grade to summer(?) of last year. we were not good to each other and our relationship brought out the worst in each other, and i also poured in a lot of love and effort into us. i made a twitter account with a pretend identity a bit before the final end of our friendship to eventual reveal like a teehee! it was me :)! thing, because that's the sort of (somewhat insane) thing she and i would do--that was our normal. after things ended, i used it for a while to check up on her. a bitter part of me enjoyed seeing her be lonely and upset that she had lost the friend who would have done anything for her. i had also wanted to (in the sort of want where you won't take action on it) to follow her priv with it to see what she was saying about it all. i did not do this. a month and a half or so ago, i had a late night thinking-things-through, and things finally clicked into place about my relationship with her. the way i was with her was the last vestiges of a person i haven't been in years, and i would not make the same choices now that i did then. here are the posts i made about it all: (one) (two) (three). tw in the first and second post for sui ment, and in the second for csa, cocsa, and ed ments.
i do not fault tisbe for still being upset about this and not knowing about the things i have processed there, as i have kept xem blocked since i made this account and i assume that they would not have seen the posts. that is, however, a part of why i wish people would get both sides before making a final decision, as that was a complicated and nuanced situation (even this is just the sparknotes). i have myself been a victim of cyberstalking, and it isn't something i treat lightly, including the fact that i was a perpetrator of it in the past, and i take full responsibility for my history with that. i hope that my talking about this provides some assurance that i would absolutely not do it again.
i have tried, and will continue to try, to speak about tisbe's and my breakup as honestly and kindly as possible. i haven't wanted to (and still don't) say anything that could turn people against them, and i have never wanted to drag our shared friends into something that could and should have been kept private. i think the ultimatum is something that was unfair to the people who care about us both. i am still trying to figure out how i feel about that in connection with also understanding that a person can have boundaries about what circles they are in. above all, i wish that he would take responsibility for the fact that sea didn't handle things well either--with me, with my fiance, and others. and i hope that she finds peace, and that they can grow in the future.
should anyone wish to share this post or the posts linked within it with tisbe, you have my go-ahead. i wish that that was not the singular option i had at this time for a channel of communication, but it would be nice in the future to at least have the sort of conversation that would lead to closure for us both.
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levyscripts · 2 years ago
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Since it’s Wednesday
I will probably have these fics mentioned multiple times because I bounce between fics but always have new one.
So first let’s do Critical Role: Intimate Moments with a Rogue and a Sorcerer: Part 7  (Vax’ilmore)
- The Prompt is: Softly smiling at each other from across the room. I’m excited to start that one.  The Stresses of Life For A Rogue And A Sorcerer: Part 5  (Vax’ilmore)
- Prompt: "Don't give me space. That's the last thing I want with you."
Vox Machina has fucked up a job badly. They want to hide out at Whitestone because the council will be pissed. Vax though can’t. Gilmore his partner is in Emon. So Vox Machina return and Percy declares sanctuary. Vax of course is worried about how this may affect Gilmore’s business. But he doesn’t want Gilmore far from him.
Reunited and Growing (Kidfic) (Vax’ilmore):
Six months have passed since Vox Machina defeated the Chroma Conclave. They are all reuniting in Whitestone except for Scanlan, who is still with Kaylie. Vax has been in ‘Zephrah’ with Keyleth. They broke up four months previously. Vax just didn’t want to deal with the I told you so. Well Vex and Percy are getting married and they decide to tell everyone after the wedding. Vax is holding in a secret he had learned of Vex. He’s also see Gilmore for the first time since the final battle with Thordak. Finding out what everyone else already knew. He adopted a half-elf daughter.
Can these two reunite and grow together?
Another Kid acquisition fic (Vax’ilmore):
Vax finds out their prick of a father had another kid. Of course history is repeating itself and Vax takes it upon himself to raise. He knows he needs to tell Vex. Lie to the world that he has bastard child.  He returns to Emon because that’s where he wants to be and he’s missing a certain someone.
Pike and Grog sickfic
Pike taking care of Grog
Sheith:
Ongoing Where We Belong fix-it multi chapter fic
Shiro has a daughter. That is genetically his clone. He misses his friendship with Keith. Allura is found alive and the lions are back. 
The Prince Journals
Princes diaries au (book series)
It’s Terror Time Again
Scooby-doo on zombie island au
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novadreii · 4 months ago
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Your attitude and words give me strength! You're tough as nails babe. Any tips for getting over a breakup quickly ?
aw i'm glad! this is partly why i keep this messy online diary going strong lol
you didn't mention how far out you were from it/the circumstances, but some general stuff i personally did would be (for a non-amicable breakup where i was emotionally abused, constantly lied to and generally neglected for the last 6 months of the relationship):
therapy if accessible, but you don't need this to heal. i just had enough issues to where this breakup was the tip of the iceberg lol, and i really needed the guidance to point out all of the broken ways i think.
realize that this person's treatment of you (if it was bad) had nothing to do with your worth as a person. same if it was just simple incompatibility with no mistreatment; incompatibility is neutral. how someone treats you is ONLY a reflection of who they are as a person. repeat this messaging to yourself no matter how fake it feels. it will sink in over time. it's not your fault. you never deserve to be treat poorly.
you'll see a lot of "forgive them...for yourself." messaging. fuck that lmao. you don't have to forgive anyone. certainly not anyone who isn't sorry. your resentment/anger at being fucked over comes from a place inside of you that loves you and is protective of you. honor it. it will subside when it subsides. mine ebbs and flows a lot and i just let it. that pacifistic/manipulative narrative of "anger is poison" is bullshit. it's an integral part of healing and denying yourself the right to be mad that you were treated badly is self-betrayal.
LET YOURSELF FEEL. i cannot stress enough that fighting your feelings, or trying to dissociate from them with drugs/food/alcohol/sex will only delay this process. feelings you do not allow yourself to process get stuck and manifest in other ways you won't be able to make an association to. they don't just evaporate. cry when you wanna cry, rage when you wanna rage. keep an outlet and use it often (for me it's my blog and a paper journal).
contrary to the above, balance feeling your feelings with self-care, friendships, and trying new things! it helps to keep your mind from ruminating. you want to feel for an appropriate amount of time, but not ruminate, you know? i learned that rumination is actually a form of dissociation from your feelings and delays healing.
go no contact. personally, i never stay friends with my exes, because it keeps me stuck in the past. possibly the single most useful tool when evaluating if someone is good for you or not. you cannot continue to associate with someone who treats you like shit if you are still attached to them. they will fully take advantage of that. attachment does not equal love, so you need time to let the attachment fade so you can clearly reflect on what kind of person they are. you will be amazed at the kind of clarity you get once you let the fog of attachment fade. things that never occurred to you before just become...obvious. painfully so. the ways in which you were excusing their behavior come to light. this is so necessary.
do not break no contact for anything ever. seriously. that is giving your power away to them, again. instead of reaching out to them, journal what you wish you could say. my personal favorite is to replay all of the worst memories of how they treated me like an awful mental movie, of how i basically cried for 6 months straight, each and every time they looked at me with cold, empty eyes and knowingly hurt me when i was doing my very best. don't do this too often because it's not great to dwell and cause yourself pain, only use this technique when you mistakenly feel like you miss them. you miss who you thought they were, not the real them.
don't rush into dating new people. you will know when you are ready vs. when you are doing it to show up your ex/cope/distract yourself. people are not playthings or coping mechanisms. you WILL attract someone similar again unless you heal.
take up EFT tapping (brad yates is the definitive source for me) this helped me reprogram subconscious beliefs about myself (how i always attract people who hurt/abandon me, feelings of worthlessness etc). it feels silly and fake at first but i stg, this shit is like magic.
all of this culminates to realizing that nobody can give you the love and care you can and MUST give to yourself! this relationship has made me a proponent of the belief that it's hard to find fulfilling romantic relationships unless you love yourself first. you will attract people on the same vibration as you, so if you have healing to do you will also attract damaged people who cannot love you the way you need. love and respect yourself truly, deeply, and wholly. not only will it feel amazing to finally be on your own side, but you will attract people who treat you like the queen/king you are. it will also make you a better partner to them.
these are the major things that helped me. I'm 5 months out and feel like.....85% of the way there? i still struggle with anger but like i said, i honor and don't repress that side of me. the goal is not to move through this quickly, but to surrender to however long it takes to process this. ironically, that IS the way to move through it as quickly as possible.
you WILL heal, you WILL love and be loved again. don't let bad experiences taint and sour your view of people. there are good, kind people who can't wait to meet you out there. when you truly love yourself, you will not settle for anyone who doesn't match that level of self-love. you won't even contemplate overstaying your welcome with abusive, low-effort partners. take every failed relationship as a learning experience and you never really lose. <3
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mamamittens · 3 months ago
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Okay, so after sitting on it, I think I've came up with another fun design detail.
Mainly the idea of them having super dark hair originally but, from chronic, repeated exposure to pure light from threads beads, and whatever else, parts of it are just lighter. Little chunks and sections chaotically through their massive hair.
Almost wanted to do specific colors depending on the type of light but that implies consistency in their habit of storing bits they've made that they just wouldn't bother with.
Still not sold on the purple but if I do then it would fade to pastel and whitish really hard at the ends. Which neatly makes it look like the morning sky if you wanna be poetic about it.
Considered a similar thing happening to their skin but I'm afraid of it looking a little off, or just silly. The scarring/tattoos are a good visual indicator of how erratic the raw energy is even with practice anyway.
Had the cute idea that when they like someone they, in all their weird, awkward glory, offer to make a friendship bracelet. Usually they're turned down but eventually someone does take them up on it and they just sorta
Hop in place with excitement and usher them over to a window where a spot of sunlight is. And then, with no explanation, starts making thread and cord and slipping on beads as they rattle off little warnings.
"Ah, I'm so happy to finally make one for someone! Oh, be careful of skin contact with this, it tends to make you energetic and keep you from falling asleep. It may also glow in the dark. Just keep it somewhere dark for a while and it'll tone down, but it will recharge? In the sun? And prolonged wear may lead to a slight tan--Im so excited! Oh! And! And!" They're grinning and bouncing as they secure it closed. "If you break it, it'll explode!"
At the alarmed expression they backtrack apologetically.
"No, no! Not like that! It's not that strong--its more like a small firecracker? Bright flash of light. Might burn a bit if it's the whole thing. Oh! And disrupts chakra pretty badly but that's temporary! It's just all the energy inside it going POP! All at once!"
And the other person is just staring at them blankly.
"...how did you make this?"
"...by hand?"
"..."
"... You were there?"
"...with chakra?"
"No, with sunlight, silly!" And the other person just looks over at the wares with little sun and moon symbols on the tags with growing horror. Maybe they're a ninja and do some sensing and realize the entire place lights up like a Roman candle, including their new 'bestie'.
(Hyuga hate their fucking shop so much lmfao)
"...okay."
Just wait until they get a grasp of elemental chakra. Suddenly these products get a lot more interesting.
Super rough sketch design of my String Bean OC lol, details still in the works I'm just trying to figure out vibes ngl
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Gave em a fun pose to start the process.
I like the idea of crazy ass hair and there's just these random ass spools secured with braids. Couldn't quite get across the idea but the current plan is eyes that weirdly reflect the light that's around them? Like, during the day it's the same color as the sunlight and night the moonlight. I suppose during new moons they'd be black? Lol?
Naruto eyeball bullshit basically but idk how much I'll stick with it. Did want the pupils to reflect literal light though.
Not totally dedicated to the purple honestly, but maybe I'll like it more if I added a secondary color? Or maybe that's a bit much??? There are some interesting hair colors but it's usually pretty standard and toned down for anime hair, gravity defying antics aside.
Gender still undecided and who knows, they may remain gender fluid/neutral. Something something constantly manipulating near raw yin and yang chakra with coils so flexible they can handle most chakras with practice makes them, at their core, very flexible identity wise.
Did decide I wanted their personality to be deliberately a little weird. Like, they enjoy contorting and walking like a toon character cause they don't have a lot of friends if any. So it makes them laugh if nothing else. And they're honest but the shit they say sounds so wack no one takes it seriously most of the time.
Shit like
"Okay, what kind of clothes are you wanting made?"
"What kind of clothes?"
"Well, yeah. If you want pajamas, making it so you can fling fireballs with a wave would probably not be advised."
"Ugh, just normal clothes, thanks"
"...alright! Normal it is!"
They can, in fact, do that with sun threads and some mild seals. Not permanent work, but pretty long lasting.
Hyuga hate looking at them cause they mend their own clothes with raw thread and it's like looking at a lazer show for them. Professional clothes they use regular thread, maybe soaked in a particular light for, since the raw stuff tends to dissipate over time.
Originally wanted a colorful wardrobe but I think I'll leave the color for their cute little caplet lined with pockets and needles. They're very handy, having taken up a lot of hobbies in their spare time.
The weirdness chills out by A LOT when they are around an actually friend. Otherwise it's Space Cadet Central in here.
Had the small idea of Danzo trying genetic bullshit but eventually ruling out their family for even base stock for his special little soldiers cause they're all so fucking spacey and can't seem to focus the minute they're outside. It's cause of the whole 'seeing light as malleable form" thing but he never quite managed to get that part from them before killing them off. The fun part about having someone so morally deprived is that, technically, an OC like this one could be related to ANYONE lmfao, cause some of these science bitches didn't give a FUCK about robbin graves.
If they're a civilian it would be hilarious if they were "home schooled ninja" because of how useful basic ninja training is out in the field. Mainly strength bullshit and endurance honestly still very on the fence about the ninja bit.
All I really know for sure is that they're Super Weird A Lot and Very Unfairly Pretty for Max Confusion. And Tol. Very slender and Tol.
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herehavesomeheadcanons · 2 years ago
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Hello! Could u write headcanons for Lacus and Rene? Maybe about cuddling or how they would take care of their s/o? Let your creativity flow! Tysm!
It would seem that ONS is taking over my blog... Not that I mind. It's a fantastic series!
I fucking love Lacus and Rene. Their friendship dynamic is the absolute best- get ready for:
Kissing/Cuddling part 2: Best Bros boogaloo~
Lacus Welt
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💜✨ He's basically a really lazy Ferid, honestly. Absolutely loves pda, no qualms about it. At home, prepare to be captured and snuggled for hours on end. Lacus would like nothing better than to just lay in bed all day and cuddle!
💜✨ Lacus's kisses depend on his mood. Sometimes he's slow and lazy, and other times things get more heated. Actually... A lot of times things get heated.
💜✨He is Not a gentleman in the slightest. If he wants to do something, he's going to do it. How many times must I repeat myself? Lacus is a little hedonist. He's only about 25% better than Ferid, but that’s just because he’s not creative enough to come up with ideas. As long as you don’t give him ideas, you should be ok.
💜✨ Lacus fucking loves cuddles. Vampires are cold blooded, so cuddling a warm human warms them up. And being warm feels good. Lacus likes to feel good, so, naturally, he likes cuddling. Simple arithmetic.
💜✨He has no preference for big or little spoon, but he enjoys laying on you. Part of the reason for this is to keep you from escaping. Sometimes, Lacus is the absolute laziest motherfucker in the vampire world (especially after a hard day’s work). The minute he gets home, he wants to drag you to bed (or a couch, or the floor) for cuddles. You will be stuck there for H O U R S. I’m sorry if you’re a very active person who needs to just do things all the time, but on those days the best you’re gonna get is if you *ahem* “initiate some action.”
💜✨ As for caring for you… honestly he’s a disaster. I wouldn’t trust him to keep a goldfish alive for more than a week. He has no fucking clue what he’s doing, and you’re going to have to help him A LOT. He also gets a lot of reluctant help from Rene.
Rene Simm
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🖤♦️ pda? Absolutely not. He’s above such things. (He’s actually not, but he pretends he is.) Oh? What’s that i hear in the distance…? It sounds like the tsundere song! 
🖤♦️ Short, reluctant kisses, and only if you beg for them. He likes them a lot, but he’s so good at hiding it.
🖤♦️ Unlike Lacus, Rene's self-control is through the roof. It doesn't matter how badly he wants to passionately make out with you, he'll sit there and pretend he doesn't like it. If you can get him to drop his tsundere act (good luck), things will get more ✨heated✨.
🖤♦️ As for cuddling, just fucking tackle him. Literally throw yourself at him. He loves it more than life itself, but you will NEVER get him to admit it.
🖤♦️ You're usually the big spoon, but only because he pouts and sulks about being touched. It's all an act, but still. If he would get his head out of his ass, he'd love to be the big spoon.
🖤♦️ He’s definitely more responsible that Lacus, that’s for sure! Even if he’s a little aloof and distant, he still makes sure all your basic needs are met. 
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f1goat · 3 years ago
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Golf    [part one]
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A/N: This is my first time writing in English, sorry in advance for the (grammar) mistakes! I will make a part two soon :) Summary: Lando is one of your best friends and wants you to join him and Carlos on a golf day. The day starts great, but ends with a lot of frustrations.
“Come on Y/N, why don’t you want to join us tomorrow?” You look at the boy in front of you. He’s almost begging at this point. A bit pathetic, but still kinda cute you think. Since you have arrived at his house this morning, he keeps asking you to join him and Carlos tomorrow. They’re going to play some golf. Exactly one of the many sports you don’t know how to play. “Lando, you know I’m shit at golfing,” you respond. It’s the third time you use this reason, but Lando just doesn’t get it. “I can teach you!” Lando exclaims happily, directly seeing an opportunity. “Please just join us 
Y/N, it will be fun.” He goes on.
You sigh softly. Of course you love to spend time with Lando, he’s your best friend after all. And it would be nice to see Carlos once again, after not seeing him for so long. But still, you can’t golf. It’s probably embarrassing. Lando has gotten quite good since he started, Carlos has always been good at it. You would only slow them down. Lando will probably regret it tomorrow when he sees how bad you are. “Lan, I don’t think it’s a good idea. You and Carlos are good at it, I will only slow you down,” you try to explain to Lando. He quickly shakes his head, disagreeing with your explanation. “It will be fun Y/N. It isn’t that hard. Just try it once,” Lando tries once again. Suddenly, you start to wonder why Lando is this desperate about you joining them. Normally he is one to give up after a while. He knows when you want to do something and when you’re not in the mood for something. There has to be a reason for him to be this desperate. “Why do you want me to join so badly?” You ask. Lando stays silent for a while. You can see how hard he thinks of what to say, but you don’t know what is actually going on in his head. Lando has been crushing on you for a while. First it was just an innocent crush. That was what he thought. But lately it has been getting out of his own hands. He doesn’t know how to act anymore. He wants to spend as much time with you as he can between races. He knows he have to tell you eventually, but he doesn’t want to fuck things up. He values your friendship. He doesn’t want to lose you or make things awkward between the two of you. And, there is one tiny other reason for him wanting you to join golfing. Lately he has started to notice what the girls are wearing while playing golf. He just can’t stop thinking about you in such an outfit. Mainly because of the short skirts. He wants, no wait, needs to see you in one of those. “Lando?” Your voice makes him forget everything he was just thinking about for a few seconds. Trying as fast as he can, to think of a normal answer to your question. “I thought you would like it to see Carlos once again,” Lando says eventually. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he knows he could have thought of something better to say. “And the real reason Lan?” He sighs softly. “I want to spend time with you, Y/N. I have to leave soon for this idiotic triple header, I just want to spend as much time as I can with you before that.” Lando questions himself directly after saying those words. Was he too honest? Was it too much for you to hear? Or did you think of it as something normal? You feel yourself turning red. Repeating the previous words of Lando multiple times through your head. This was not good. Since you’re friends with Lando you have this tiny crush on him. Always had. But you had it under control. At least, that was what you thought. And then you found yourself missing him so much you consistently wore his clothes while being away from him. Watching every interview. Or watching his old video’s for a laugh. Rewatching every snap you took of the two of you. You didn’t know when it happened, but your little crush has gotten a bit out of control. “That’s really sweet of you Lando,” you say while walking closer to him. You smile at him. “Sooo, you will join me tomorrow?” Of course, he doesn’t give up. “You’ll have to teach me,” you mutter, “and I’m a slow learner when it comes to sport.” “Of course babygirl. I will teach you.” Lando curses himself. Didn’t he fuck it up with his words about spending as much time as possible with you, then he does with calling you babygirl. He doesn’t even know why he just did that. But before he can think about it more and making himself mad, he feels your arms around himself. Quickly hugging you back. “What do people wear while golfing?” You ask Lando while pulling away from the hug. You notice his cheeks become a bit red. “Uh.. I don’t really know.. Maybe look at TikTok or something? I think they wear.. uh.. skirts,” he stutters. --- The next day Lando is early at your place. Way too early. You just came out of the shower when he rang the doorbell. In nothing more than a bathrobe you opened the door. Telling the boy you still need to make yourself ready. He nods understandingly, “I thought maybe we could lunch somewhere together before going to Carlos? That’s why I’m so early.” You told Lando you love that idea and that you would be quick. You ran up the stairs, not wanting to let Lando wait for too long. When you came home yesterday night, you had spend some time looking up golf outfits. Not wanting to embarrass Lando and Carlos at the track. You knew they are going to some private club with a lot of rich people. So you want to look good. After doing your research you had laid out an outfit for the following day. Something you’re glad about now. You quickly get dressed up. Wearing a plain white skirt and a tight black polo shirt. You button up the polo while walking towards your make up stash. Applying a light base of make up for today. Lastly you bind your hair in a high ponytail. “I’m almost ready Lan, just need to put on some shoes. I think sneakers are handy, right?” You shout while walking down the stairs. Lando opens the door to the hallway, while replying to you. “Yes, wear sneakers.” Then he sees you. He can only hope you don’t see his reaction and that you don’t catch him staring at you. It’s hard to watch away. Actually, scrap hard. Lando can’t even watch away from you. It feels like his eyes are glued to your body, wanting to take you in. You are wearing exactly what he hoped for. He knew it would look hot, but he didn’t expect it to be this hot. You bend over to put on your shoes. Lando almost gasps when you do. Fuck. How is he going to focus on golf? Or even worse, how is he going to learn you to play golf while you look like this? Your white skirt falls nicely around your legs, making your tanned legs stand out even more. Lando tries not to look, but he just can’t help himself. The skirt ends a bit under your ass. Giving the wind the opportunity to give it all away. He starts to wonder what you are wearing under the skirt. Your polo os tight in all the right places. Lando feels how his own pants were getting tighter. A few hours later the two of you had arrived at the golf track with Carlos. You watched around for a bit, deciding you did choose a good outfit. You felt like you were fitting in. Lando had been right yesterday, it was nice to see Carlos  again. The two of you were talking about his formula one season. Carlos telling you all about his new team, Ferrari. He talked about the new car he had to get used to and his growing friendship with Charles. It was nice to casually talk with Carlos. “Y/N want me to teach you how to play?” Lando interrupts your conversation with Carlos. You look up a bit surprised. Lando isn’t rude like this, normally. You smile to Carlos before answering Lando, “You can try.” “Okay, come here.” Lando responds quickly, smiling like a child. He knows it’s a bit rude to snatch you away from Carlos like that, but he was growing impatient. And there was that one tiny part of him, that kept complaining in his head about you giving your attention to Carlos. Wanting to have your full attention for himself. Lando tried explaining the sport to you, but you failed nonetheless. He showed you multiple times how to swing and hit the small ball. But you sucked. You felt yourself getting a bit frustrated. “I told you Lando, I suck,” you tell him frustrated. Lando doesn’t react. His mind wanders to different meanings of the word suck. Before he can help himself he’s on another level. Thinking about you sucking him off in that golf outfit. At one point Carlos decided to step in, “Here let me try. I taught Isa too.” Lando wants to decline his help, but before he could say a word you were already at Carlos his side. Lando looks at the two of you. Carlos is standing behind you to show you how to make a good swing. Lando notices how close Carlos is to what’s supposed to be his. Why didn’t he think of it? He should have stand behind you. He feels his pants getting tighter of only the thought of it. That close to you in that skirt. He hates himself for even thinking like that. What the fuck is going on with him? The tiny voice Lando had heard earlier today is growing bigger. It’s screaming in his head. Lando feels himself getting mad. He hears how you laugh at something Carlos says. He sees how the two of you hug when you made a nice shot. He is almost seeing red. Maybe, you can scrap almost. Lando knows for sure he’s seeing red. He tries to keep his jealousy inside him, but can’t suppress a scoff. You and Carlos look up at the sound, but Lando quickly looks away. He kept watching the two of you for a while. Not wanting to let you two realize how he was feeling. He tries to think of an excuse to pull the two of you apart, but he doesn’t know any. So he just says nothing. After a few more tries, you keep succeeding. Carlos doesn’t help you anymore. You are fine on your own now. Or at least, for a beginner. You notice that Lando became a bit quiet. Since Carlos has helped you, Lando became a lot more distant. After a while he went away to get something to drink for the three of you. You turn around to Carlos. “Lando is acting weird,” you tell Carlos, he nods as response. “Did I do anything wrong you think? I warned him yesterday it wasn’t a great plan to let me join today.. Maybe he regrets it?” “Y/N don’t blame yourself, just ask Lando what’s wrong. I think there’s an easy fix..” Carlos explains to you. Before you can ask him what he meant, Lando is back with the drinks. --- After a few hours you are tired. You tell Lando and Carlos to play a bit without you. You are going to wait for them at the bar. You scroll a bit on your phone while waiting on Carlos and Lando. The glass of cola next to you had been empty for a while now. You walk towards the bar again. Asking for a refill. You hear the door opening and closing. A smile forms on your face when you see Lando coming in. You grab your glass of the bar and walk towards him. Hoping he is in a better mood than a hour earlier. Before you could get to Lando you feel someone grab your arm. “Hey pretty girl,” a random guy says while letting go off your arm. You look confused at the man. “Would you like it to join me for a drink?” The man asks you. Before you can politely refuse the offer, you hear Lando next to you. “She’s taken.” You look up surprised. You were taken? What was Lando saying? “You’re a lucky man,” the other guy tells Lando as response before turning away. You can only look surprised. You really don’t get Lando anymore. Was he jealous? You quickly throw that thought away, not wanting yourself to get hopeful. Before you can say something to Lando about his remark, he says something else. He was talking so soft that you don’t hear him. “What did you say?” You ask Lando quickly. “I’m never going to take you to golf again,” Lando speaks louder this time. You look at him. Not even knowing what to say. Did you ruin his day? You feel yourself getting sad. You knew it was a bad idea to join him, but he wanted it himself.. Right? “I’m sorry if I ruined your day,” you tell Lando while walking next to his car. The two of you just waved goodbye to Carlos. You want nothing more than to go home right now. You feel guilty. You shouldn’t have come today. You have ruined a fine day for Lando and Carlos. “What do you mean?” Lando asks. “I feel like I have ruined your day.. You were acting strange on the track while Carlos taught me how to golf. And the remark you made later about never taking me to golf again.. It’s clear that I did annoy you today.” “Fuck. That’s not what I meant babygirl.” You feel small butterflies at the name Lando just gave you. He opens the car door for you and squats in front of you when you are seated. His hands rests on your knees. Giving you the chills. “I ruined it myself,” Lando says, “but I can’t explain to you why.” You don’t know what to say to the boy in front of you. What can you possibly say at something so vague? “Please explain Lan,” you try. But the boy doesn’t give in. He stands up to walk to the other side of the car. Quickly taking place behind the weel and starting the car. The ride is silent and awkward. Normally the two of you have the most fun during car rides. Deep conversations, singing along the songs or just talking about nonsense. But now, you don’t know how to act. Before you know you are almost at your home. You look outside the car window. The sky around you is slowly getting dark. You don’t know a lot at this moment, but you don’t want to end the day like this. You arrive at the apartment complex. You wait patiently for Lando to park the car, but he just stops it in front of the entrance. “I think I will head home,” Lando mutters softly, not daring to look at you. You realize this isn’t normal. Normally he would walk you inside. “What’s the matter Lando?” You ask. There is no reaction coming from the boy next to you. “What did I do to cause such a reaction from you?” You try once again. “It’s not you,” Lando tells you. “Then why are you treating me this way? You have been distant since Carlos taught me how to golf. You can’t explain to me what’s going on, but you still act like I did something wrong. You don’t even walk me inside? You always walk me inside.” You don’t even notice that there are tears running down your cheeks, till Lando wipes one away with his hand. “I’m sorry Y/N.. I wish I could explain it to you, but I think I will only fuck it up more,” Lando tells you. “I don’t think you can make today shittier then it already is,” you respond to him. This time you wipe away your own tears. Lando stays silent. “I’m sorry babygirl.” You realize you aren’t getting an explanation from Lando. You sigh softly. This isn’t going to help. It has no use to keep trying. You open your car door and step out of the vehicle. “Good luck with your triple header Lan. Please text me when you’re ready to give me an explanation,” you tell Lando before closing the car door. You don’t wait on his reaction. With a loud sob you turn away from the car. Lando can think of hundred curse words to tell himself, but he feels like no one is hard enough for him. While trying not to fuck things up, he only fucked it up way worse. He feels a tear running down his cheeks. He doubts about walking after you, but decides not to. He isn’t ready to tell you what’s going on. He doesn’t want to lose you. But the voice in his head tells him he already did.
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sundaysundaes · 4 years ago
Text
Started With A Kiss
Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Actor AU, Smut, Fluff, Humor | NC-17 | 10K
Summary: Rookie actor, Lee Haechan, desperately wants to get the lead role in the highly anticipated upcoming TV drama. He’s sure he has what it takes to fill the part. Acting as a hero? No problem. Pretending to overcome his traumatic experience? Consider it done. A bed scene? Easy—wait, no. That might be a problem. But he should be fine as long as he gets to rehearse, right?
Warnings:  protected sex, oral sex, crude humor, swearing, literally 10k of sex with very little plot, a lot of playful banters between sassy!hyuck and equally sassy!Y/N
Wrote this for my love Kira @flopim​ who’s been having a tough time lately. I hope this will cheer you up bb! ❤️
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“I want you to make love to me.”
Standing there, still dressed in your bright pink pajamas with your hair resembling a bird’s nest, you can only blink once, twice, and several times more because surely, your ears are playing tricks on you. There’s no way that your best friend, the cutely annoying and annoyingly cute, Lee Haechan—the one who’s been practically glued to your skin like a conjoined twin of yours for the last two years—is asking you to make love to him. 
Surely, this is not what you’d expected to see when you opened the door to your apartment, ready to bark at whoever it was who dared to disturb your beauty sleep (since it is seven in the morning on a Sunday), only to see him standing in his blue ripped jeans and black Michael Jackson shirt with his cheeks flushed, his bag hanging loosely on his shoulder, brown eyes desperately begging for your attention. 
And you’re most definitely sure that he’s not asking you to sleep with him when you still have drool on the corner of your mouth and a terrible morning breath (in your defense, you have brushed your teeth but that was, like, six hours ago).
But when seconds have passed and Haechan still looks like he badly needs to hear an answer, you have very little options but to ask, “You want me to do what to who now?”
Catching a sniff of your mighty dragon’s breath, he promptly takes a step back, scrunching his nose while frantically covering half of his face with the script he’s been holding. “Eew, God, what is that smell?” Ignoring your glare, he repeats his words, voice muffled by the papers. “I said, I want you to make love to me.”
“What—”
“Damn it, woman, just brush your teeth and let me in!”
When he’s stomping his feet while whining that loudly—loud enough for your fucking landlord to hear, along with everybody else in the building (including your cute neighbor, Jaehyun, oh dear God, no), he doesn’t give you any other choice but to invite him in, does he?
You step away from the door, flatly muttering, “Please, come in, why don’t you.” Haechan doesn’t waste any second waiting, making sure to run and stay as far away as possible from you so he won’t inhale the poisonous air that’s tainted with your breath again. 
You roll your eyes. Dramatic little shit. But just to be on the safe side, you make your way to the bathroom.
***
The scalding hot shower you just took was comforting but not enough to wash your entire drowsiness away. You’re in dire need of your caffeine intake. “Would you like some coffee, my king?” You ask between a yawn, hands finding their way to the coffee jar on your kitchen counter.
Haechan throws his bag to the floor, body sinking into the comfort of your couch. “With milk, please.”
"I’m kidding.”
“Well, I’m not.” He throws one of those cheeky grins that you adore—no, wait, you hate—as he settles his legs on your coffee table. “Less sugar but more milk. I’m still growing.”
“Growing what, your balls?” You pour him a cup of coffee as requested, yes, because to balance his demonic behavior, you have to act like the perfect angel that you are. “Since you don’t have any?”
“You mean, like your boyfriend?” Haechan retorts before he gasps dramatically, his palm going to his mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, you don’t have a boyfriend.”
You hover above him from behind the couch, bringing two mugs filled with sizzling hot coffee. “Want to repeat that?” You tip your mug just a little bit until it nearly spills on his forehead.
Haechan winces, attempting to grin. “I’m sorry, I love you, please don’t ruin my face. It’s the only thing that’s good about me.”
“It surely is.”
“Yah, what does that mean?”
“Take it as a compliment.” 
Sitting next to him, you sip your coffee and curse silently when the liquid burns your tongue. “Okay, so what about this ‘make love to me’ thing you said earlier? Please tell me it’s just a figure of speech or something.”
“I wish.” He drags his legs away from the table so he can lay his cup down because apparently, he means business. “Okay, I know you’re gonna kill me after you hear—”
“After? I’m about to kill you now, actually.” You scoff. “Don’t you remember what we’ve agreed on? You cannot bother me when I’m still too sleepy to smack you in the head, Haechannie.”
“When did we ever—” He stops. “Why are you going to smack me in the head?” 
“‘Cause you’ll say something stupid.”
“Who says I’m gonna say something stupid?”
“You always say something stupid. You’re saying something stupid now!”
“It’s not stupid.” He sighs exasperatedly but when your flat, degrading stare comes into view, it morphs into a groan. “Well, not that stupid. I’ve thought about this—really thought about it—and I can’t find anyone else to do this but you since you’re the only girl I’m friends with. I mean, I can pick random girls, I suppose—you know how popular I am. They just can’t stop talking about me. My hair, my eyes—”
“—your tiny dick.”
“But I don’t want to break any girl’s heart by doing something that’s gonna make them feel like I’m just using them to get a job, you know? I know I’m hot but these good looks aren’t meant to trample people’s hearts.”
“And you don’t care how I’m gonna feel?”
He has the decency to act like he’s thinking about it, but then, “No, not really.”
“Thanks.”
“Look, I really need your help.” He takes it as further as holding your hand between his, puckering his pouty lips, and blinking his eyes in a way that’s cute enough to leave you in daze so you pretend like you’re about to vomit your insides to cover it up. 
Okay, so there’s one thing—one little thing that nobody knows—that you’re too ashamed to admit and that is the fact that you have a massive crush on this boy who sits in front of you with his socks unmatched. Well, no, not massive. It used to be massive during the first few weeks you knew him. How could you not? Haechan was so cute, you wanted to turn him into a doll so you could carry him around in your backpack and squish his cheeks whenever you feel like it. Sure, he’s not all jawlines and dimples like that neighbor of yours (Jung Jaehyun was probably sculpted by God himself ), but Haechan has his own charms. His devilish smirk, his loud, contagious laughter, his naughty eyebrow raise, and his lips—God, his beautiful plump lips, the way they look so pouty and soft. Honestly, you can write a whole essay about his attractive features (not that you haven’t already).
You knew you were crazy for him when the antics he did annoyed the hell out of his friends but to you, he was just plain adorable. And you realized you were pretty much fucked-up when Jeno said, “Fucking Lee Donghyuck said he forgot his wallet and robbed me this morning. Who the fuck orders a freakin’ wagyu steak for breakfast?!” and the only thing you could think of was how nice it was to go on a date with him and how your first kiss with him was going to be like (poor Jeno, though). 
It’s not that you love him or anything. It’s mostly physical, nothing more—at least for now anyway. It’s not your fault that he’s so fucking pretty that he ends up showing every now and then in your fantasy, doing indescribable naughty things that will definitely make Mark splash some holy water on your face if he knew what was going on in your head.
Fortunately, now that you’ve been friends with him for two years, that massive crush you had has turned into something normal, something you can easily hide. And can be forgotten even, whenever another cute guy—like Na Jaemin, for example—takes you out on a date or two. It’s easier to breathe these days.
“Hello? Are you there?” Haechan snaps his fingers, waking you up from your reverie. “What’s your answer? Do you want to make love to me or not?”
‘It’s easier to breathe these days?’ More like fucking kill me. 
“Can you stop saying that?” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You’re giving me headaches.” Or a heart attack, more accurately. “Assume I said yes. Don’t you think it’s gonna get a little weird between us?”
“What is so weird about it?” He throws his hands in the air, exhausted and impatient. “It’s just gonna be two friends, pretending to be in love with each other, hugging, kissing, touching, and having sweet, tender sex.” Realization falls upon him and you resist the urge to exhale loudly. “Yeah, okay, so it is a little weird, but it should be fine, right? It’s just acting. It’s not like you have any feelings for me, do you?”
If by feelings you mean picturing you naked in my head with your mouth sucking on my neck, then yeah, I do have feelings for you. Plenty of that. But on the outside, you say, “Eew, God, no.”
Haechan squints his eyes at your response. “Can’t say I’m not hurt with the way you said it, but eew, God, no to you too. Well, if that’s the case then I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he says, sipping his coffee, and retracts his mouth as soon as the flavor hits his tongue. “What the hell is this?! Did you spit on my coffee or something?”
You didn’t but for your amusement, you throw him a sly grin. “A little.” It’s satisfying to see him looking like he’s about to pass out. “I’m still worried how it’s gonna affect our friendship later on though.”
He simply shrugs. “Meh. We’re not really that close to begin with anyway.” He takes another sip of his coffee by accident and nearly vomits for real. “Fucking hell—take this shit out of my face.���
“I'm still not sure about this, Haechannie.”
“Look, I don’t know why it’s such a big deal to you, we’re just going to pretend! Acting!” He exclaims as if that was the most normal thing a friend could ask another friend. “And you’re gonna be acting out a love scene with someone as hot as me. Consider yourself lucky.”
“Consider yourself dead.”
“Damn it, my audition is in two days and I really want to get this role!” He’s whining, tugging at your hand like a baby as he practically throws himself at your feet, graveling for your mercy. “You’re the only one who can help me with this. How can I act properly if I don’t have enough experience to perform a freaking bed scene?!”
“I don’t think actors who have to play dead have enough experience of, you know, being dead.”
“Excellent point.” Haechan stares at you blankly, unimpressed. “Do you hear yourself when you talk?”
“Do you?”
A few seconds passed by in silence with the two of you exchanging sinister glares until he finally surrenders with a prominent pout on his face. “Fine, if you don’t want to.” Haechan exhales dramatically, his shoulders sagging and when you don’t respond, he sighs again only louder this time. “I guess, I have to force Mark to make out with me. Again.” He sneaks a glance to see your reaction. “And have my face slapped with a Bible. Again.”
You wince at the thought. “How did you force him, exactly?”
“Just…” He timidly scratches his nose. “Kinda attacked him in his sleep.”
You nod in understanding even when it’s the most idiotic thing you’ve ever heard. “Well, maybe he would’ve been fine with it if you had taken him out for a nice dinner before that.”
Haechan smiles a little at your words, and even a little glimpse of it is contagious enough to make your own spread wider on your face. Small chuckles resonate through the air and he playfully bumps his shoulder against yours, his palm resting on your knuckles.
“On a more serious note,” Haechan says, “I know that asking you to rehearse a bed scene with me is too much and way out of line. But I swear, I’m not gonna touch you if you’re so uncomfortable with it. Won’t even hold your hand, I promise.” Then he notices he’s still holding your hand from earlier. He drops it immediately, clearing his throat. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” It’s more than fine. His hand seems to fit yours in a way that nobody ever does but there’s no way you’re gonna tell him that. “So, we’re just gonna be practicing lines?”
“Exactly.” He rubs his nape, suddenly a bit bashful. “Well, I was hoping to at least kiss you—just to, you know, know how it’d feel like.”
“You’ve never kissed before?”
“I have, obviously.” He rolls his eyes, disgusted at your question. “I’m not a fucking virgin if that’s what you’re assuming.”
“Chill, don’t get your panties in a twist. Nah, I know you’re not a virgin from how many times you’ve had sex with yourself.”
“Hey!” 
“But then, why do you need to practice? Can’t you just go straight to your castmates, and kiss the bejeezus out of them?”
Donghyuck runs a hand through his face. “It’s… I’ve never done it for a role,” he professes, faint blush blooming on his cheeks, “And the scene is supposed to be intimate and I’ve never… You know…”
You gesture at him to clarify more with your hands. “You’ve never…?”
“You know…” The color on his face turns brighter. “T-the thing.”
“What thing? Never made-out in public? Never had sex outdoor?” You act clueless just because you’re liking his reaction. “Never had a finger stuck in your ass? What? Please do enlighten me.”
“I’ve never been in love, you witch!” Haechan is adorable when he’s fuming. Nostrils blaring, eyebrows knitting together in an angry frown, scarlet cheeks all puffed out. He looks like a terribly pissed Pomeranian.
Man, if I could just take a picture. “Oh, okay. So have you had your finger stuck in your ass?”
“I swear to God—”
“Kidding. I know you have.” But even when Haechan is nearly ripping your cheeks apart from your face, your giggles are never-ending. “So, you’re nervous?” You snort, raising an eyebrow. “You, the obnoxious, desperate-for-attention Lee Haechan, are nervous?”
“Will you help me out or not?!”
You pretend like you’re contemplating about it when truth is, every part of your body and mind is just screaming what the heck are you waiting for? He’s asking you to rehearse a bed scene—a. bed. scene! And he said he wanted to kiss you, for God’s sake! So, really, what else is there to say but “Okay.”
Haechan widens his eyes. “Okay?”
“Okay.” You try your best to appear nonchalant. “But you’ll owe me a favor. A huge one.”
“Anything,” he instantly agrees, “As long as I’m not dead, you have my words.”
You’re not yet sure what you’re planning to ask him but seeing his enthusiasm, you know it’s going to be good. “Great. So, umm, do you want to do it now or…?”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“Here?”
“Wherever you want.”
“Man, you’re giving me too much power. I should’ve agreed to this way sooner.” You can practically feel your face splitting in half from how wide you’re grinning. “My room, then? I mean, a bed scene requires… a bed, right?”
Haechan laughs and even after two years, it still sounds like your most favorite thing in the world. “No, it doesn’t necessarily require a bed but sure.” He jumps out from the couch, taking you by the hand, and only by that, you can already feel your heart thumping a tad faster. But the second he walks into your room, he makes a face. “Why does it smell like something died in here?”
“Because something did die. Your dignity.”
The tickling fight doesn’t occur very often between you and Lee Haechan but once it starts, it means war.
***
“Okay, so…” Haechan hands you the script, already opened to show you a page filled with dialogues and short narratives. He scoots closer on the bed, his knee a few inches away from grazing yours as they dangle from the edge. “Just from the top of the page, here.” He points with his finger and you do a quick scan, trying to get a picture of the intimate scene you’re going to do. “So, a quick summary. Your character, Aeri, has been in love with my character, Donghyun. In the earlier scene, you’ve confessed your love to me but I rejected you because we’ve been friends for so long and I didn’t want to ruin what we have. But then, later on, some things happened and I ended up catching feelings for you and this is the part where I’m gonna be telling you how I really feel and then we start kissing and—”
“Then we have sex,” you utter in dismay, but butterflies are erupting from your stomach due to the anticipation.
“No,” Haechan corrects you, “We make love.”
“Is there any difference?”
“There are more feelings involved, not just out of sheer passion. It’s slower. Tender. Intimate.” And when he notices you raising a questioning brow at him, he sighs. “That thing you did with Jaemin? Fucking like bunnies? The opposite of that.”
You mock him by imitating his sigh exaggeratedly and receiving a flick on the nose in return. “Is it just me or is the script pretty lousy?”
He nods. “But they’ll pay you good money for this.”
“I thought the reason you became an actor was to create art not money.”
“When I’m rich, maybe. Right now, I gotta pay for my rent. And apparently, Jeno keeps chasing my ass, forcing me to pay him back. It was just a wagyu steak for fuck’s sake.” He grumbles to himself, momentarily distracted. “Anyway,” he cracks his neck, “I’ve memorized my lines. Wanna give it a go?”
“Okay, let’s try. I guess I’ll be fine if it’s just kissing. Even if it’s with you.” When in reality you’re only agreeing to this because it’s with him.
Haechan’s eyes gleam brighter, ears practically perking up like an excited puppy. “Really?”
“You’re that excited at the thought of kissing me?” You play smug but you could practically hear your heartbeat blasting through your ears. “What else have you been thinking about me?”
“I’m not excited at the thought of kissing you, dumbass,” he spits back, the spark in his eyes vanishes in an instant. “I’m excited that finally I can practice kissing scenes with someone who’s actually willing to do it, and not, you know, like with the back of my hand or something.”
“You…” Failing to hold back a grin, you burst out laughing. “You made out with your hand?”
It’s funny that even when his skin is golden as if it was kissed by the sun, it still shows vividly on his face whenever he blushes. “I didn’t mean it literally—”
“I can’t believe you made out with your hand.”
“Would you just—” He nearly suffocates you with your pillow but you quickly retaliate by kicking him in the stomach.
Tears are prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Man, that mental image of yours making out with your hand will live in my mind rent-free for as long as I live.” When you still can’t stop laughing, Haechan is practically baring his teeth. “Okay, I’m sorry. Let’s get this going. If it gets too uncomfortable for me, I’ll stop.”
“Of course.” 
“At any time I want.”
“Your call.” He nods in agreement with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him do; it almost doesn’t seem like him. 
“Good,” you say. “Now, I’ve never acted once in my life so if you laugh at me, I will sneak into your room at night and pour hot coffee on your computer.”
There’s fear fleeting through his eyes but he gives another nod. “Deal.”
“All right…” You take a deep breath, willing your heart to stop hammering against your ribcages, and for once, focus more on the script instead of the shape of his pretty, pretty mouth. “What are you doing here?” You follow the script, voice a little bit shaky as you’re still embarrassed with everything you’re doing. Haechan closes his eyes and you’re about to throw a joke to tease him about actor Haechan coming alive but when he opens them and gazes at you, you sit still, frozen.
“I wanted to see you,” he says, voice so delicate, it startles you. He’s so serious about this that you don’t find the strength within you to tease him like how you usually do. Somehow, the little gestures he makes, the changes in his expression alter the air along with the tension in the room. Suddenly, it feels like you’re standing next to him under the spotlight, hundreds of pairs of eyes following your every movement. 
“It’s—” You swallow your breath, tongue lays heavy in your mouth. “It's pouring outside, why are you—”
“I love you,” he vocalizes, his eyes gentle and heartbroken. His voice suddenly sounds a pitch lower, reverberating through the air until it sends goosebumps to the tiny hairs on your nape. He waits for your reply and you have to blink twice to slap yourself back to reality.
“W-what?”
“I’m sorry it took me this long to realize, but I do. I’m in love with you, hopelessly so.” He reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. Though he has pretty hands, his fingertips are not as soft as you had imagined them to be, but they feel better, feel real. His warmth is unfamiliar to your skin but it feels more pleasant than anything that ever touches you. “Maybe you’re unaware of this, but it kills me to know that I’ve hurt you because I simply couldn’t be brave enough to accept my feelings. The reason why I didn’t want us to be together was because I didn’t want to ruin what we have, not knowing that we could be something more.”
Haechan’s lines fit your situation so much that you wish he wasn’t acting. It’s amazing how he’s changing into an entirely different persona and yet, it feels so natural as if he has been that person all along. Your breathing gets heavier as you take a brief look at the script, searching for your lines. “This feels unreal…”
“Do you still love me?” Haechan lifts your face by the chin, his touch is paper-thin. 
You wet your lips, head swirling. “But Donghyun—”
“Do you still love me?” He repeats, emphasizing with his tone. His eyes are peering into yours and you wonder maybe the quote eyes deeper than the sea refers to his gaze. “Or is it too late for me?” His thumb drifts to your lip, caressing your bottom one, your lip balm sticking to his skin. 
“I do,” you reply. He’s so pretty. You’ve never taken a glance longer than a few seconds at his close-up face, but now that you’re in this close proximity, you can finally witness the two tiny moles on his cheek, the beautiful shape of his dark eyes, the delicate curve of his lips… “I do love you, Donghyuck.”
A few seconds of silence hangs in the air when Haechan stops, his eyebrows furrowing. “Umm—it’s Donghyun, actually.”
Fuck! “Right!” You nearly leap out of your bed, face aflame. “Donghyun! Of course! I don’t know why I said that. Donghyuck is your name, I know that—” Fuck, fuck, fuck, just fucking kill me. “Sorry, umm—nervous.”
Fortunately for you, Haechan buys your bluff. “Rookie mistake,” he chuckles and you exaggeratedly roll your eyes to play along. “Okay, let’s start over. Do you still love me?”
“I do,” you respond too rigidly, making him glance away so he won’t break into laughter. “I do love you, Donghyun. Dong-Hyun.”
“Good,” he improvises, as it’s not written in the script. He has a tiny smile on his face and you like to think that it’s just him doing a terrible job at hiding his amusement. But when he swats your bangs out of your eyes, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, he seems like he’s seeing the most beautiful thing he has ever seen in his whole life. The adoration in his eyes, his loving gaze—they are so vivid, they nearly consume you. “Because I don’t think I can resist this any longer…”
You’re lost in his eyes, lost in his touch, lost in his warmth. It’s until Haechan nudges his head slightly, indicating you to wake up, you’ve got a line to say, that you jolt, eyes hurriedly going down to the script, seeking your lines. “Umm—“ You flinch. You sound so jittery, it’s terrible. “R-resist what…?”
But Haechan doesn’t pay a mind that you just stuttered from saying two words. He doesn’t ask you to start over. Instead, he presses his forehead against yours, his breath mingling in the air and you can taste the scent of sandalwood and summer. Combined with his soft breathing, you’re almost stuck in a haze, just reeling in the feeling of how this man is now closer to you than he has ever been in the past two years and it’s better than anything you’ve ever imagined.
“Resist this,” he whispers and before you can look down to check whether you have more lines to say, Haechan dips his head, his lips brushing against yours, ever so faintly at first but when you gasp, he presses harder, framing your cheeks with both hands before he moves one down to your waist. Unlike his fingertips, his lips are soft—softer than silk or the cotton candy he once bought you. But it’s not the way they feel or the way he tastes that distract you the most. It’s the way he moves them, parting his lips slightly so he can blend with yours, your lower lip fits perfectly between his plump ones. It’s the way he sighs, so contentedly, as if kissing you was everything he ever wanted.
You close your eyes, hands reaching up to his collar, wanting to feel him more, wanting to touch him—
Haechan breaks away, placing both hands on your shoulders. “How was it?”
You’ve never had someone splash cold water on your face but you figure it might feel something like this. Your voice grows hoarse when you speak. “How was what?”
“The kiss!” Haechan’s eyes are filled with concern, analyzing your expression. “Was it romantic enough? Tender enough? Did it properly convey the desperation and longing my character feels for yours?”
You knew this was a bad idea. You fucking knew it. So, why are you still hurt when he acts like he feels exactly nothing by that kiss? This is just an acting lesson for him. You should have been prepared. 
“It’s good,” you answer, averting your gaze and hiding your eyes behind your bangs. Your heart is still running a thousand miles an hour but somehow, it doesn’t feel as pleasant as before. “So, next scene—”
“Wait, are you okay?” Haechan asks, bending slightly to catch a glimpse of your face. “Was it too much? Do you want to stop?”
Truth is, you’re conflicted. You’re going to catch feelings—you most likely already are. But Haechan only treats you as a friend and nothing more, and this is the only chance you have to be this close to him. The temptation of continuing the kiss, to just hold him close for one more time, stands stronger than anything else so you say, “No. I promised you I’d help.”
He’s still unsure, eyes glinting in concern. “It’s okay if you want to stop, I—”
“Let’s just do the damn scene, Donghyuck.”
Haechan freezes on his seat, eyes searching yours as you now have the bravery to look at his face. Knowing you came on too strong, you try to ease it off with a smile. “I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s just my first time doing this—acting, I mean. Can we try again?”
He spends another few seconds trying to decipher the true meaning behind your smile but eventually nods his head at your command. He drags his finger back to the script. “Then, umm… Let’s start from here?”
You don’t even look at the page when you give affirmation. “Go.”
Haechan takes a moment to prepare himself and when your eyes meet each other again, he’s a different person once more. “The reason why I didn’t want us to be together was because I didn’t want to ruin what we have, not knowing that we could be something more.” His voice is so soothing, you almost forget that deep down you’re immensely upset knowing that the kiss didn’t have the same effects on him.
This time, when he frames your face with his palm, you lean into his touch, eyes never leaving his. “This feels unreal,” you say and for a second—just for a split second—you notice Haechan breaking out of character, surprised by the gentle expression on your face. Because you’re not acting out his script, you’re acting out on your feelings. It’s your only chance to be honest with him without forcing him to respond. So you pour all these feelings you have for him out in the open—ones that started from a mere physical attraction to something more as his presence grew bigger in your life, you’re acting out each and every one of them. 
“Do…” He inhales sharply, trying to focus. “Do you still love me?” He’s doing the same thing as before, placing his thumb and index finger on your chin but before he can say his lines, you see how his eyes fall on your lips.
And you kiss him. You kiss him with everything you have, hands going to his face, fingers slipping between his strands, and Haechan gasps against your mouth, his fingers curling around your wrist. You know he’s about to push you away so you quickly murmur, “I do,” against his lips, breath stuttering, “I do love you.”
When you take his bottom lip between yours, teeth grazing against his supple skin, Haechan lets out an involuntary moan at the back of his throat. The butterflies in your stomach come alive, pumping a rush of adrenaline through your veins and suddenly, you’re brave enough to glide your tongue across his lip. His hold tightens around your wrist but instead of pushing you away, he tugs you closer and you fall into his chest, hands breaking free from his grip to wind around his neck. Your fingertips are scraping against his nape before they move upward to yank at the roots of his hair. “Fuck,” he breathes out, almost inaudibly, as if he didn’t mean to let the word slip from his mouth and it makes your heart jumps straight out of your chest. The second he responds properly, Haechan kisses like fire, all passion and urgency, and you really don’t mind being consumed by his flames.
His hands are on your waist, pulling you closer and closer until you’re almost sitting on his lap before he jolts awake, pushing you away so abruptly, you almost fall from the bed.
“I’m—We—” he stammers, looking everywhere but your eyes. His cheeks are flushed, his lips bruised and red from your kisses. “I think we should—I gotta go—“
He stands up from the bed like the sheets are catching on fire, picking his script from the floor and gathering all his belongings at once before he runs toward the door. He turns on his heels, wanting to say something to fix the goddamn situation, but when his eyes land on yours, his words vanish without a trace. 
“I—I’ll call you later,” he finally says and doesn’t wait for your response. The front door closes with a thud.
And then silence comes to answer.
What just happened? 
Your heart is thundering inside your chest, you’re starting to feel nauseous. What have I done? You keep asking over and over. You thought everything was going to be fine. He responded to your kiss earlier, didn’t he? You were sure you didn’t imagine the whole thing. But now he’s gone and you’re not sure whether he’s gonna come back as the same Haechan—the old, bratty but caring Lee Haechan. The one who snickers loudly when you fall face-first on the ground but always steals secret glances at you to make sure you're not hurt. The one who makes jokes about your love life but never forgets to show up at your apartment with a thoughtful gift right at the minute you turn a year older. 
Things are not just gonna get awkward, they’re ruined.
When nearly half an hour has passed by and you’re still left alone in your apartment with no signs of him coming back, you’re about to go insane. You can’t stay still, walking back and forth your living room with the tip of your thumb between your teeth.
Should I chase after him and explain that it was just me trying to improvise? You hesitate with your hand lingering on the doorknob. But with your knees nearly giving up under your weight, you decide to stay put. It will probably just gonna make it worse. He’ll see through my lies, he always does.
You’re straying away to the kitchen, hands placed on the counter. You can feel your head spinning, stomach somersaulting. Damn it, why did I have to do that?! Why couldn’t I just— 
The front door slams opened and Haechan barges in with his hair messy, ruffled by the wind, and his bangs sticking to his temple. Stunned, you stand still on your ground. Your heart is the only one that’s moving beyond control. His eyes scan your apartment until they land on yours and for an instant, everything seems to fade away.
“Fuck it,” he says, dropping his bag to the ground and making his way towards you in such a hurry, he nearly trips over his feet. “You’re not that good of an actor to be faking it.” Before you have the chance to even take a breath, Haechan’s lips are smashing against yours. 
“Hae—” Haechan’s kiss is insane. So forceful that you can barely keep up, taking every bit of air directly from your lungs. He has you backed against the kitchen counter, the marbled edge digging into your skin. His hands frame your face, sliding against your cheek until they cup the backsides of your neck, his thumbs resting against your ears. You curl your fingers around his wrist, gasping, “Wait—”
He pulls away, lifting your face so you can’t bring your gaze anywhere else. “You like me?” His eyes are just as intense, begging for answers. “Please tell me I’m not imagining this.”
But behind that passion, his confidence is wavering. You can tell by his quivering breath, the little tremble running through his fingertips, and at that, you’re drowning in relief. You don’t think he’s that good of an actor to be faking this too. 
“I do,” you admit, heart pounding so loudly that you can barely hear your own voice. “I like—”
His mouth is on yours again and it feels like he’s kissing you in a hundred different places at once. “Jesus Christ, why have you kept quiet about this for so long?” he says, tasting your breath and skin at the same time. “Two fucking years. We wasted two fucking years.”
The words this isn’t happening endlessly run through your head but all your senses scream that Haechan is really here, in your arms, his nails clawing against your shirt and there’s nothing left you want from this world.
When you reciprocate to him properly, your palms sliding up his chest, over his shoulder, until your arms circle his neck, Haechan sighs in content. His kisses grow slower—more relaxed—but deeper, his tongue peeking out shyly at first but not for long. He still tastes faintly like the coffee you made and something else entirely different. Something pleasant that’s just exactly how you’ve fantasized him to be, if not more.
He pulls away to catch his breath with his eyes still focusing on your lips, thumb rubbing your lower one. “Does this feel weird to you?” He whispers, his temple pressing against yours.
You’re intoxicated by his sweet scent though you’re not sure whether it’s the smell of his shampoo, his cologne, or just him altogether. “No,” and as soon as the word comes out, his lips are chasing after yours once more.
“Good, ‘cause I don’t think I can stop.” He’s breathing heavily against your mouth as you are against his. With his fingers twisted in your hair, making a messy ponytail out of it, Haechan peppers open-mouthed kisses on your neck, tongue pressing against your pulsating vein and a whimper escapes your mouth.
Your dreams, your fantasies—they all fall pale in comparison to reality. When you vocalize his name, it almost sounds like a plead and Haechan slants his mouth back on yours again, giving you another taste as he is not satisfied with yours just yet. “Your lips taste amazing,” he breathes out and it’s so quiet, it seems like he’s intending to say the words in his head and not with his mouth. But as his words fall on your ears, they send tingles down your spine.
“So do yours,” you reply, attempting to make him blush in return but if he does, he doesn’t show much. “Never pegged you as a man who wears lip balm.”
You can feel his smirk directly with your skin. “I’m not wearing any.”
“You’re not?” You lightly giggle, swiping your tongue across his lower lip. “Then your lips do taste amazing.”
Haechan’s hand is slipping underneath your shirt, fingers hovering above your bra. “Guess there are still a lot of things you don’t know about me, huh?”
“I’ve got a hunch you’re about to teach me?”
“Only if you’re eager to learn.”
The kiss becomes heavier that you’re lost for words, entirely consumed by his passion, until he breaks away, muttering, “Off, off, off, off, off,” as he struggles to tear the fabric away from your body. You titter at his desperation, raising both hands to help him out of his misery. The second it’s off, he lifts you by the waist and places you down on the counter. 
“I’m amazed you could lift me,” you coo, admiring the sight of his lean stomach as he pulls his shirt over his head. His silver necklace hangs loosely around his neck and you hook a finger around it to yank him back to you.
He doesn’t seem to be able to detach his lips from yours for too long, especially when you keep sneaking glances at his. So when he speaks again, his every word is painted directly to your skin. “It wasn’t easy.” He settles between your thighs, mouth latching against your collarbone. “You weigh a ton.”
“Yeah?” You bite your lip, holding back a moan as he sucks bruises on your neck, the edge of his fingers trailing over the seam of your bra. “Then you must be so strong.”
“I am, haven’t you noticed?” Haechan pulls away just to showcase a mischievous grin. “I work out, you know.”
You blurt out laughing. It’s not solely because of the mental image of Lee Haechan—a full-time gamer, Lee Haechan—doing push-ups seems so funny to you. It’s more about the way he wiggles his eyebrow, trying to be sexy about it when you know he’s the weakest one in your group. Flustered at your reaction, he flicks your nose. “What is so funny?”
“I’m sorry,” you apologize though it doesn’t seem that much sincere with the way you’re still giggling at him. “It’s just that an hour ago we were two friends making fun of each other and now we’re here, in this position. I don’t know, it just feels surreal to me.”
An adorable pout blooms on his face. “I thought you said this didn’t feel weird.”
“No, it’s perfect. I want this.” You wrap the end of his necklace twice around your index finger. “I want you. It’s just… I’ve been imagining this to happen for such a long time and now that it’s happening, I’m feeling a lot of things at once.” You place a reassuring kiss on his temple. “I’m nervous.” This time landing one on his cheek. “I’m relieved.” When your lips hover above his, you notice him parting his own slightly in anticipation. “And it feels so good, I don’t ever want to stop. Even if that means we can’t go back to being friends.”
Haechan can’t form a response as you don’t let him, your mouth swallowing the tiny moans he emits. “We’ll talk about that later,” he hastily replies, “I still haven’t had enough of you yet.”
Without warning, he lifts you off the counter, making you yelp and wrap your legs around his waist for support. “Haechannie!” With you holding onto him, he takes a step forward, ignoring your call. “Where are you taking me—"
“Wait, no, back pain, back pain.” Both of you nearly tumble down to the ground from how he’s harshly placing you back to your feet, wincing at the ache erupting from the strained muscles in his spine. He’s groaning in pain, massaging his back with both hands. “Fuck, you’re really heavy!”
“That’s no way to talk to a lady.” You throw your slipper at him, missing his head just a few inches, laughing all the way. “What exactly were you trying to do?”
“I was trying to move us to the couch.”
“All you had to do was ask.”
“I was trying to be sexy.” He juts out his lower lip, and it takes all control of your body to not squeeze his cheeks from how adorable he looks.
“Honey, you are sexy, believe me, but you’re also weak as fuck. Consider hitting the gym for real next time and then carry me.”
“Shut up,” he sighs, holding out a hand for you to take. “To the couch, please? And maybe a massage after this ‘cause my back is killing me.”
Shaking your head in amusement, you take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his and drag him over to the couch. He’s in the middle of asking, “Do you want me to be on top or—” when you push him down and straddle his lap without warning, legs tangling around his hips. “Oh, okay.”
You run a hand through his hair, pushing them back so you can witness the glow in his eyes. “You look sexier with your hair pushed back.” You love the way he stares at you, eyes half-lidded painted with lust and desire. And combined with your commentary, he now has his cheek tinted with red. “Do you have a problem with me being on top?”
His eyes quickly run down to the place where your denim shorts are riding up your thighs, your zipper pressing against his groin. With a noticeable gulp, he stutters out, “N-no.”
You smile, patting his cheek. “Good.”
The kiss starts slow as you focus more on moving your hands down his body. Haechan shivers a little when your palm is pressing against his bare chest, sliding down to his navel. When you pull back, raising a questioning brow at his reaction, he bashfully says, “Your hand’s cold,” looking like a nervous little boy who’s a stark contrast to how he usually behaves.
He’s so cute.
“Well, I know a way to warm you up.” You smirk, almost cringing when you hear your own words but Haechan seems to like it.
“Oooh,” he coos, grinning against your lips. “Are you offering what I think you’re offering?”
“I don’t know.” You kiss your way down from his jawline to his chest, pushing yourself off his lap so you can kneel on the floor, your fingers unbuckling his belt. “What do you think I’m offering?”
Haechan’s eyes are glowing with anticipation. He curves his fingers around the edge of his seat, wetting his lip nervously when you pull his zipper down. You release him from his boxer, stroking him to life and he sinks his nails further into the couch. A train of expletives breaks free from his mouth but he’s so quiet, you can only hear his ragged breathing.
But by the time you run your thumb over his slit, your hot breath hitting his sensitive skin, Haechan melts into a whimpering mess. “Please don’t tease,” he begs.
“I haven’t even started, Haechannie.” And he looks like he’s about to say something but it only turns into a mewl when you press a kiss to his tip. “You’re so cute,” you comment, and he shivers when the vibration of your voice meets his skin. 
Haechan tries to act composed. “Of course I’m cute, it’s—” 
You cut his line short by darting out your tongue, giving kitten licks at the side, smiling satisfyingly when his eyes meet yours. As you give him a little suck around his tip, he throws his head back, his lower lip between his teeth. “I—I said don’t tease.”
“I’m not teasing you.” But you are. How can you not? He looks so fucking cute. You’ve never really enjoyed giving head before, especially when your opponent gets rough and ends up pushing too deep until you gag. But with Haechan, you feel like you can do this for hours. He’s so nervous and shy, doesn’t even dare to place his hand on your hair, and his reaction to every bit of your action is honest even when his words aren’t. 
“Here.” You take one of his hands, moving it to your head. “You can use me as much as you want.”
“Use—” he crumbles at your choice of words. When you suddenly envelop him with your mouth, moving from the tip to the base in one quick motion, Haechan instinctively grabs a handful of your hair, flinching. “Goddamn, why are you so fucking hot?”
You giggle, sliding his cock out of your mouth with an obscene pop. “Thanks.”
“No, I mean your mouth. It’s so fucking warm.”
“So, you’re saying,” you dip your tongue into his slit, eyes seductively peering into his. “I’m not hot?”
“You’re—Fuck, fuck—” Haechan seethes, hips buckling when you bob your head down again, tongue pressing against his veins. Shivers run through his fingertips when he slips them between your locks, pushing your fringe back to have a good look at your face. You catch a glimpse of him, his lips unconsciously moving to form words that you can’t hear. So pretty, he seems to say, and the thought of it makes your stomach lurch in delight. Taking him completely in your mouth, you hollow your cheeks, swallowing around him. He tightens his hold around your hair, cheeks flushed and you expect him to hold you in place so he can thrust against your mouth but what he does is pull you away. “Stop, stop, stop, stop.”
Wiping a string of saliva away with the back of your hand, you ask with a frown. “Something’s wrong?”
Haechan hides his reddening face behind his fingers, quietly answering, “I was about to come.”
You hold back a grin. With a nonchalant hum, you dip your head down again, this time engulfing him until he hits the back of your throat.
“Jesus Christ.” His sanity is deteriorating, he can feel it.
“Don’t bring Lord’s name when I have your dick in my mouth, Haechannie. Mark would kill you if he knew.”
“Fuck Mark. Come here.” He rushes forward, forcibly pulling you up with both hands clamping your arms. When you follow his order, settling back down on top of his lap, he confesses with his lips grazing against the shell of your ear. “I really won’t last long if you keep doing that.”
Despite your previous teasing and confidence, you squirm inside his arms, feeling warmth spreading from your chest to your cheek. “So I have these effects on you?”
He’s almost growling when he retorts, “You don’t even know.” Haechan pushes your bra strap until it falls off your shoulder, teeth marking your supple skin until you hiss in both pain and pleasure. He presses a softer kiss to soothe away the bruise. “Sorry, I… You’re gonna need to cover it up tomorrow.”
“It’s fine.” You stroke his cheek, tracing the tiny mole on his jawline. “Seems like you have a biting kink.”
He sheepishly chuckles, “I don’t know. But if you let me, I’d love to do that again.” 
Something about him saying it in the most sincere way possible, almost too formal even, makes you crave more for him and everything he does. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want with me, Lee Donghyuck.”
Haechan swallows hard, barely has the bravery to look at you in the face after hearing your words and his real name tumbling out of your mouth. His fingers are now on the hem of your shorts, trembling a little bit. “Umm—may I?”
Helping him further, you stand on your knees, unclasping your bra first to his surprise and pulling your denim shorts and panties down to your thighs. Haechan watches with his eyes wide open, mouth parted in awe as he commits every bit of your curve and movement into memory. It feels so thrilling to be this wanted, to be ravished by his eyes, until you begin to struggle to push your clothing away from your legs.
“Need some help?” He asks, lips pursing as he tries to hide a grin. 
You exhale loudly, detaching yourself from him. “Let me just—” You jump off his lap, standing back with your feet on the ground, and kicking the clothing away with annoyance��why in the world did you have to wear shorts this tight—and slap him in the chest when he’s chuckling at the sight. 
“Maybe you should stop trying to be sexy too,” Haechan snickers.
“Shut up.” You crawl back into his lap. “Go back to staring dumbly at me like before. I’m naked.”
“I wasn’t staring like tha—oh,” he inhales sharply as you grind your heat against his cock, amazed at how warm you are despite your cold palms. The sensation of skin meeting skin feels much more different. There’s really no going back this time. Somehow, it feels dangerous, as if you’re doing something forbidden and it makes your skin crawl with excitement.
And by the look on his face, seems like he feels the same way.
“Lost for words?” You taunt him with a smirk, hands on his chest. “That’s new.” His glare is menacing but it falters away the second you rub your arousal against his. 
His head falls to his shoulder, eyes tightly shut. “God, baby…”
There it is again. The funny feeling in your stomach. “Baby?” You simper though your heart is palpitating like crazy. “We’re moving on to giving each other pet names now?”
If he can blush any harder than this, he probably might but with the way you’re grinding shamelessly on his cock, letting him get a glimpse of how wet and warm you are, he’s all maxed-out. 
His earlobe lays between your teeth when you whisper, “Shall we put it in?”
Haechan’s nails are sinking into the skin of your hips, both to hold you in place so you’ll stop torturing him and to press you down harder on his crotch. “I…” He’s so distracted, he can’t even think. The way the side of his length is pressing against your folds is pushing every little bit of self-control he has to the back of his head.
“Haechannie?” You giggle, moving your hips. “I kinda asked you a question here.”
“Yes, fuck, yes, please.” Haechan tries his very best to not sound that desperate for your touch but he is that desperate. “Wait—aren’t we—shouldn’t I wear a condom first?”
You blink, halting your movement. “You brought a condom with you?”
He nods as he leans forward, fingers searching frantically at the pocket of his jeans that hang low on his knees. “Here.”
“Why do you have a condom with you?”
“‘Cause I bought it downstairs just now.”
Your jaw grows slack at the realization. “Is that the reason why your hair was so messy and you were sweating when you barged in here? ‘Cause you ran downstairs, trying to find a condom?”
“I’m sorry, are you really complaining about this now?”
At the feeling of his member twitching underneath you, you sigh. “You’re right. Let’s discuss that later.”
It feels a bit awkward when you stand on your knees, giving him some space and wait until he finishes wrapping the rubber around himself. The silence that hangs between you is almost deafening that by the time he’s done and you fall back to his lap, sitting on his thighs, it feels like you have to start over again.
You diffidently smile. “Hey.”
Haechan is equally as embarrassed, mirroring your gesture. “Hi.”
“I guess we’re gonna have sex.”
“Guess so.”
Another few seconds pass by where you can only meet each other’s eyes, feeling your heartbeat racing louder and louder. It feels like you’re about to burst, honestly, but fortunately for you, Haechan leans in, his fingers tentatively caressing your cheek. “Can I kiss you?” He questions.
You melt under his gaze, his gentle touch, his honey-like voice. “Yes, please.”
Your lips start the connection and the rest of your body follows, fitting every curve of his perfectly like you were made for him. The way Haechan sighs against your mouth sends sparks of electricity all the way down to your toes and you don’t waste any more time. With his mouth latching on your breast, tongue flicking against your nipple, you lower yourself on him.
Haechan’s hold your waist tighter, eyebrows adjoined in the middle at the sensation, his moans muffled. He presses his spine back against the couch, admiring the sight of his member disappearing inch by inch into you. His eyes begin to droop when he’s completely sheathed inside, his bruised lips parted. He cups your cheek, kissing you softly on the corner of your mouth, making you shiver at the sudden tenderness. “I guess we are having sex,” he murmurs with a bashful smile.
You can’t help but laugh a little. “I guess so.” 
It starts slow, with you placing both hands on his chest and him swallowing his breath at the sight of you moving up and down his length. You hiss slightly at the friction, adjusting to his size. 
“Does it hurt?” He asks, tucking a few loose strands behind your ear. 
“A little.” You reassure him with a grin. “Relax, you’re not gonna break me.”
You expect him to send back a snarky remark but what he does is press his forehead against yours. “You’re so warm,” he whispers, tasting the skin that connects your shoulder to your neck. Something about his words, his sensual kiss and his tender touch makes you squeeze your walls around him and he clutches harder around you. He glides his hands lower to your hips, silently urging you to pick up the pace and you follow.
Breathing heavily, Haechan has his thumb grazing your lower lip. “You have such a pretty mouth,” he professes as if he was in a trance.
You seductively bite his thumb, still working your hips. “You’re saying that ‘cause I just sucked your dick.”
“Yes, that too, but really.” It’s as if he’s staring at a work of art, eyes twinkling with admiration. Sometimes, when you’re hitting the right spot and quiver around him, a small moan escapes his lips and you feel him twitching inside you. “It’s—ah—It probably doesn’t sound sincere when I’m saying this now, but I’ve always thought you had a pretty mouth. And lips. I’ve thought about your lips a lot.”
“Yeah?” You mouth against the sensitive skin below his ear, sinking harder on his length. “What else do you like about me?”
“Y-your voice—” You can actually feel him shivering. “You have such a—fuck—I just—I really love your moans.” 
You’re not sure whether he’s saying that because he’s so distracted with the way you’re breathing in his ear or he genuinely loves it. Either way, it’s a pleasure to know how much you’re affecting him with your actions. With a chuckle, you say, “You’re rambling, baby.”
“And your hair,” he adds, probably losing every bit of his self-control by this point. “I love your hair. Looks so soft.” Haechan cards his fingers through your strands. “Feels so soft.”
You hum in response, hoping that your flushed face doesn’t look as apparent as you think. “Anything else?”
“Your—” He shudders when you paint a mark under his collarbone. “Your ass.”
You stop, pulling away to give him a look and he whines at the loss. “My ass?”
“What—” The tips of his ears are turning red, steam practically coming out of them. “Why are you staring at me like that—you have a great ass!”
Teasing him is such a joy to you. “Then, let’s do it this way.” You part away from him, landing back on the carpeted floor so you can turn around, giving him the chance to ogle at your behind, before you ease yourself down onto his lap once more. 
“Fuck—” Haechan’s hisses, his hands going down to your hips again. The new position doesn’t allow you to meet his eyes but with the way he’s whimpering behind you, fingers trailing over the curve of your ass, the sensation increases.
“You okay back there?” You taunt smugly, chuckling a bit because Haechan sounds like he’s losing it. His nails are sinking into your skin and you just know that’s gonna leave a nasty bruise tomorrow. “You seem like you’re enjoying this way too—“ You’re interrupted by your own moans when he suddenly has one hand massaging your breast and another one sliding down your stomach to find your clit. “W-wait, Haechannie—”
“You’re such a tease,” he breathily whispers into your ear, his chest pressing against your spine as he leans forward, pulling you into his embrace. “Isn’t that supposed to be my job?”
His fingers are rubbing you in circles, making your thighs tremble. “You’re right.” You move your hips harder, going out of rhythm with how fast you’re going and Haechan sinks his teeth to your shoulder again.
At the sound of his name departing your lips in the most sinful moan he’s ever heard, Haechan curses. “Shit, you’re not gonna let me enjoy this longer, are you?”
“There’s always a second round, Haechannie.” You smirk, raising your hips all the way up in intention to slam it back down again but Haechan catches you and pushes you forward until you land on the coffee table, stomach pressing flat against the wooden surface. “What—"
“There’s always a second round, right?” His lips are brushing against your ear as he positions himself behind you. “Then I’m going all out.”
When he slams his hips in one swift motion, hard and deep, he knocks all the air out of your lungs. “Wait—” You choke out, can barely keep up with his pace. “Oh God—”
“Now, now,” he coos, his hand finding its way to your throat, fingers pressing against your veins. He raises your face, his chest completing the dip of your spine. “Don’t bring God’s name when I’m fucking you like this, baby.”
You can’t even find the strength to retort, eyes shutting tightly until you see stars behind your eyelids. It almost feels unreal how fast he can go from being awkward and tentative about all of this to raw and wild within a few minutes but Haechan has always been fast adapting to new situations and you have been teasing him way too much. It’s about time that he snaps. 
Haechan moves you down to the floor, forcing you to stand on all fours and you’re so glad you follow his lead. “Spread your knees. Bring your head down,” he instructs and you do as you’re told, extending your arms in front of you. Haechan has his hand on the dip of your shoulder blades, holding you still until you have no choice but to press your cheek against the carpeted floor, ass in the air. “Good girl,” he praises, kneeling behind you and rubbing his tip along your folds. “Ready, baby?”
He doesn’t wait for your answer.
With only a few minutes in, you know you’re getting close, you can feel it. He has switched from giving deep, hard thrusts to quick, shallow ones and it’s driving you insane. “H-Haechannie, I—” you whimper, “I’m close—”
And he knows it too, of course he does. He can tell by the way you’re clenching around him. But instead of going harder and driving you completely over the edge, Haechan suddenly laces his fingers with yours, his lips painting soft kisses from your nape down to your spine, his hips hitting another angle that feels just as amazing even when he slows down the pace. The intimacy surprises you as you don’t expect him to be this tender. Suddenly, it doesn’t feel like you’re doing this out of sheer passion. With his palm covering the back of your hand, fingers slipping between yours, somehow, everything feels more sentimental, stronger, crossing the lines.
With a moan of your name, Haechan flips you to your back, fingers framing your face, lips meeting lips as he thrusts back in, gasping against your mouth. “I want to see your face,” he says when he pulls away, his half-lidded eyes boring into yours, thumb slipping between your lips. “Not sure if I’ve told you this before but…” He snaps his hips, and you tangle your legs around them in response, fingernails digging into his upper arms. “You’re so beautiful.”
The knot in your stomach untangles without warning and your orgasm hits you so hard, you nearly sob at the sensation. With the way you’re quivering and squeezing around him, Haechan follows right after, his face sinking into the crook of your neck, hips stuttering as he rides out his own orgasm.
***
With his jeans back on and his used condom thrown away to the nearest trash bin, Haechan joins you back on the carpeted floor as you still haven’t found the strength to get up and get dressed after that. He shamelessly lays his body down on top of yours, his cheek pressing against the valley of your breasts. “I’m spent,” he mumbles, feeling drowsy.
“Haechannie?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re heavy.”
“I know.” But he doesn’t get up, only moving his head slightly to press a tiny kiss to your bare chest before he lies his head down over your heart again. You give up with a smile, wrapping your arms around him, fingertips stroking his hair. Haechan sighs contentedly under your touch. “Man, that was…”
“That was?”
“Amazing.” He props himself up on his elbows so he can meet your eyes. “You’re amazing.”
Your heart jolts at the sincerity in his words but you cooly smile back. “I know.”
“And I’m amazing too, I’m sure?”
“Meh,” you shrug. “Could be a little better but I’ll let you practice on me for free.”
“Jesus Christ.” He shakes his head, his strands tickling your nose. “I don’t even have the strength to join your banter. You know, I’ve always wondered since you’re pretty much shit at everything, there must be something you’re good at. But I never thought that something would turn out to be sex. I can’t even believe I’m saying this but you’re really, really amazing at it. I feel like I should give you a medal or something.”
“Thanks,” you flatly mutter. “Not sure if you’re praising me, though.”
“Oh, I am praising you, believe me. And you know me, I rarely praise.” 
“Stop it,” you use your robotic voice. “You’re making me feel so special, I’m about to cry.”
Haechan playfully nips at your nose, forcing you to break off your act and laugh directly into his mouth. “Seriously,” he says, breaking off the kiss. “If I were to pay you for sex, I would give you everything I own. Even the clothes I’m wearing. Hell, I’d even sell my grandma but don’t tell her that.”
Your laughter has reduced into small giggles. “That’s comforting.”
“So…” The way Haechan is caressing your hair is so soft, almost like a mother to her sleeping child. “What should we do about this?” When you raise an eyebrow, he tensely adds, “Do you, umm… I mean, do you want to, like—”
“You’re rambling.”
“I know, God, I’m so nervous! I may look like a naughty, sexy bad boy—”
“No one is saying that—“
“But I actually suck at this—as in, I don’t really know how to date a girl.”
“You don’t even know how to talk to a girl, based on the conversations we’ve had,” you comment and you know it’s not helping but it’s worth seeing his adorable pout. “Then don’t date me. If it’s hard for you to date, then let’s just keep being friends—"
“But I want to continue this!” He says it so fast and firmly that you don’t even have time to feel hurt about your offer. 
It’s not like you crave a relationship with him—you haven’t thought about it that far—even just holding him like this is enough for now, so the fact that he’s so excited to have this going makes your heart swells with joy. “Well then, we’ll be friends who have casual sex anytime we want,” you suggest.
He blinks twice, a bit amazed at your offer, but to your surprise, he seems rather… disappointed? “What happens if we start catching feelings?” He quietly asks.
“Then I guess we’ll start dating for real.”
“Then…” He runs a hand through his hair, nervous. “What happens if I already have feelings for you?”
He states it so quietly, it’s a miracle you can even hear him. “Do you want to date me, Haechannie?”
He looks away, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “Do you want to date me?” He murmurs against your skin, unsure and flustered.
You heave the heaviest sigh you’ve ever done in your life. “You’re unbelievable. I’ll decide for us then. Starting now, we’re dating.”
He lifts his head, and if he were a puppy, he would’ve had his tail wagging behind him, even when his face doesn’t show much. “That easy?”
“That easy. What, you have something to complain about?”
“No.” He grins, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. “Hey, girlfriend.”
“Ugh, get off me, you’re gross.”
But no matter how hard you push your palm against his face, Haechan only giggles and turns you around so this time, you’re lying on his chest. “So,” he pushes a few strands of your hair behind your ear. “You like me, huh?”
“No, what makes you think that way?”
“Says the girl who just slept with me.”
“I slept with you ‘cause I was just curious about your dick. Jeno said you had a dick that was the size of his thumb.”
“Excuse me?!”
“Didn’t you see his InstaStory last night?” You reach up to gather your phone from the coffee table. “I took a screenshot of it actually. Man, you should’ve seen the comments. They’re hilarious.”
Snatching your phone away, Haechan runs his eyes along the words written on the screen. “That son of a bitch!”
Simpering, you sneak a peek under his boxer. “Well, he’s not wrong.” 
“Oh, it’s on,” he deadpans, throwing your phone away and pushes you back down on the floor. His eyes glinting mischievously. 
“What are you doing?” You’re still half-laughing when he brings your hands over your head, holding your wrists together with one hand as he settles between your thighs, his fingers hovering dangerously close.
“I’m gonna make you take your words back.” He wets his lip, one corner of his mouth turning upward. “Time for the second round, baby.” 
***
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