#i think i'm in pretty good shape for these to be really polished by the time we get to tech!!

[brionnnne]

"Chainsaw Man is ugly". Yeah, I think that's kind of the point, actually. Hell, I think the griminess, the ugliness of it, is actually what adds substance and character and feeling. Like. Whatever. You don't like it. You think it's ugly. Fine. Okay. What I can't really understand is... Why is that a bad thing?

[practically-an-x-man]

agghhhhh stunting was SO FUN

[mtcloudsworld]

Hi, I asked you a few days ago if you take requests I was too scared to bother you by sending an actual request. But would you do a Valentine’s Day smut/fluff for Jason x fem reader. Jason actually being super Sweet and romantic and spoiling her on Valentine’s Day, I know it’s late you don’t have to if you don’t want and thank you for responding to my question a few days ago 🤎🤎🤎

Awe please bother me!! 🥺

I really don't mind if you guys inbox me. If you have a request, wanna say hi or have a question, please don't be afraid to message me! I'm all ears 😁👍🏾

Sorry it took me so long to respond. It took me some time to muster up your request. I hope you didn't think I was ignoring you or anything. I did have something in my drafts and was having a hard time articulating the way I wanted it to go. Luckily your request came in clutch, I appreciate that very much.

I feel like my brain was going into a hundred different directions with this one 😂 please forgive me if it's not exactly what you wanted but believe me when I say I really tried.

I feel with Jason Valentine's Day is an every single day thing with him, I got nothing but love for that man.

Don't be afraid to comment your thoughts, also like and reblog if you want. Ty!! Enjoy lovebugs :) 🩷🦠

(p.s.) do y'all like regular fonts or tiny fonts? Please lmk your preference when it comes to reading. Hopefully everyone is on the same page, I know that'll kind of be hard because everyone reads differently but I'm curious either way.

- ☁️

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘; 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄

⏜︵♡︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵♡︵⏜⏜︵♡︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵♡⏜

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 | +18, mdni, fem!reader, vigilante/bf! JasonTodd, good ol' missionary, love making, oral (f receiving), lovey dovey, a little bit of masturbation, submissive, pet names: babe, baby, mamas, doll, love, sweetheart. This is a pretty long one, longer than I expected so please forgive me for that. Edited, but in case of any errors, ignore :) ty <3<3<3

𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄, hits his nose upon entering your apartment. The sight of your spacious living room made him freeze as it was pristine and polished...not at all clustered with clutter or seen as untidy like it usually does.

Junk mail shredded and thrown to the trash. The floor in every room vacuumed and mopped.

Rose petals along the floor.

Books and vinyls were placed on the bookshelf in alphabetical order. The numerous polyester blankets you loved collecting were placed in the wicker basket near the brown entertainment center.

The lamp beside the couch was dimmed low. A few candles lit around the space. Gentle, slow music played lightly through the record player.

On the coffee table was a box of assortments, chocolate covered fruit with a drizzle of white chocolate on top, two glasses of wine and a red heart shaped gift bag on the side.

The atmosphere was warm and cozy. Intimate and sacred meant for two. Undoubtedly, there was something so perfect and elegant about this space that it had his heart fluttering.

It was subtle and simple, it made him grow impatient wanting nothing more than to see you and hold you. After a day of patrolling, dealing with Bruce and so on, he couldn't wait to get home.

This morning, he gave you breakfast in bed, surprised you with six different banquets of flowers, a diamond necklace with matching studs and ring that had the words "my one and only," engraved around it. He went as far as to give you his debt card.

Now, you never liked to spend his money on anything. You didn't even like the fact that he was spoiling it on you, but because he was as stubborn as a mule, he had cleared out your schedule anyways. He scheduled an appointment at the spa to get your nails done and an appointment at the hair salon. Although you pouted out of appreciation and told him he didn't have to do that, he rebuttal with a kiss on your lips and said, "I would do anything just for you."

After a day of getting pampered, you figured since your schedule was cleared, it was the perfect opportunity to tidy up the place, make it all presentable with rose petals on the floor, some vanilla scented candles, dim lighting-- make it look intimate and homey. Setting a few gifts in line, a box of chocolate covered strawberries and red wine on the table. You wanted it to look perfect before Jason came home.

It had only taken two and a half hours to shower, drench yourself in vanilla scented soap, moisturize your soft skin with Shea butter and spray on some perfume. You applied on some mascara and blood red lip gloss before slipping on a little something something.

And while you got yourself ready and the night began to set, you hear the apartment door shut.

"Baby, I'm home!" Jason feels his body relax when he hears the sound of your soft hums coming from down the hall, "Be right there!" Presumably believing you were in the bathroom since your bedroom light was off.

While he occupied himself with placing his weapons in a nearby safe box and leaned down to untie his boot laces, he hears you emerge from out of the bathroom, down the short hall towards the living room. You find him hunched over by the door placing his shoes to the side.

"How was it tonight?" You ask.

He hears your steps grow slow, pacing around.

"Slow as fuck. Don't know why Bruce called me in when he could've been back home with Selina. There was barely anyone out tonight." He states with slight irritation in his voice.

You nearly giggle as he continues to grumble underneath his breathe. When he stands up straighter, he's taken back by the sight of your appearance.

Suddenly breathless and speechless, his eyes scaled over your gorgeous anatomy moving around the coffee table to grab yourself a chocolate covered strawberry.

Jaw clenched and body slightly tense, a wave of emotions hit him all at once. He watches you approach the end of the sofa and perch yourself up on the armrest of the couch. Your soft, glowing legs crossed one over the other as you take small bites at the sweet fruit.

Flushed and piqued, his eyes grew wide from beneath the helmet. In all your glory, you looked so plushy and soft as your body was snugged in a sexy cherry red two piece lingerie.

It's material hugged around the bust of your tits, giving them an extra lift from the band underneath. Your nipples were hard from the lukewarm air seeping through the vents, causing them to surface through the thin fabric. The delicious sight of the thong hugging around the curves of your hips and richness of your thighs made you look all so yummy.

More yummy than that damn chocolate covered strawberry in your mouth right about now. He thought.

You nodded towards his direction, smiling a little when you noticed he hadn't moved an inch since you made eye contact, but, was just standing there, staring at you. "Need some help taking that off, handsome?" You say teasingly, impressed and aroused by the newly improved suit branded in all black hugged and defined every muscle and thick part of his anatomy. The symbolic red bat emblem placed in the middle of his chest, some pieces of his suit were still kevlar and others were leather.

He chuckles, finding himself stunned by you entirely. He thinks he might go insane just by the way you were looking at him. Ruin you and devour you. He had to take a moment to register your words, finding it hard to focus on anything but you.

"Uh, well....that's if you're up for the challenge, babygirl." He reckons, the modulator within the helmet making his voice ten times deeper than usual. "Otherwise, I'll gladly strip this off for you."

"Mmm, a strip tease? I believe you got me there, baby." You purred, tilting your head to the side curiously. The sound of clicking is heard, hissing from underneath causing pressure to be released. His hands reach up for the red helmet, slipping it off carefully to reveal his head.

"Personally I think that option would be more... sexier." You thought out loud allowing your shiny red lips to wrap seductively around the berry and deliberately suck on the chocolate.

He releases a deep chuckle as he sets the helmet to the side. His short black and white streak hair sexily tousled and curly from the humidity of the helmet.

The sight of his handsome face and those piercing sapphire eyes made you feel a storm brew from within, butterflies swarming in the pit of your stomach, your nerves tingling. You felt a wave of excitement circulate through your system as he glances between you and the living room.

"I love what you did with the place."

He stood tall, glaring over your gorgeous profound frame. He doesnt take his eyes off you as he begins to slip the gloves off, setting them on a nearby shelf. Carefully unzipping the leather jacket, he slips it off and lays it to the side.

"I wanted it to look extra special for tonight."

Your words were sweet, too sweet, to the point, his own teeth were about to rot. Effortlessly, you had him in a chokehold, you lived rent free in his mind. With all your cuteness, your down right innocence and flaws, you had a way of tugging at his heart strings.

Like any other time, you always found yourself swooned at the sight of him. Whether he's in armour, shirtless with grey sweatpants, roaming around here in only boxers or just outright naked, his fine ass could never fail to amaze you.

You fell hard for Gotham's most favorite vigilante.

The way he treats you, cares for you, makes you feel like a queen, practically worshiping the ground you walk on and then some, he would do just about anything to see you smile again and again and again-- he had your heart, and you had his.

"Hm, and this?" He points to the lingerie you were currently settled in, walking up to you with his hands buried in his pockets.

"Oh this? I bought it after I got my hair and nails done. Which thank you by the way, it was very much needed." You stated twinkling your fingers his face. "I figured I'd give it a shot," you shrugged intentionally running your hands over your body, "I wanted to see how it looked on me and honestly I think I made the best decision in my life, don't you agree?"

Purposely wanting his eyes to stay on you at all times, you stood up from your seat to give a little spin. It was slow and cruel as your hands roamed down along your sides to the band of your thong, fingers curling underneath the band to then hear them smack against your skin from the tight restriction. His eyes examined closely with a low hum in satisfaction at the sweet roundness of your ass cheeks.

"So, what do you think?~ You like it?" You chimed in a sing-song tone.

"Hm, I do," He draws you closer, your hands resting at the tops of his shoulders to feel his own squeeze at your sides and slowly draw lower, pressing you possessively against his hard torso. The tip of his nose brushes against your cheek, delicately planting kisses to your skin feeling how your flesh begins to heat up. He whispers into your ear "In fact, I love it on you so much, I just might fuck you in it."

You'd be lying if you said that wasn't your plan from the beginning. However, somewhere in your goofy mind, you didn't think it was gonna be this soon.

He kissing along your cheek and adventuring to ghost over your lips. He feels you lean into his embrace, reaching up on the tops of your tippy toes to place your delicate hands along his face, he engulfed every ounce of you.

With half lidded eyes, Jason watches how your lashes kiss at your cheeks, brows scrunched at the savoring taste of mint and chocolate on each other's tongues made you moan softly. With each peck, the kiss grew deeper and deeper. With needy intent, his fingers began to dig into your flesh, groping at the fat of your sides.

"God, you smell so good." He murmurs between kisses. Burning with desire, your heavenly intoxicated touch made it so hard for him to detach from you. It left him breathless, forgetful and completely immersed in the presence of you.

It was the kind of intoxicated that made things feverish and desperate, lips feeling more like petals as they move in sync with his. Intoxicating to the point you had him grunting lowly, growling a little as he starts to become greedy.

Everything moved so swiftly as he laid you on the couch. His massive body proceeding to loom over you. You giggle as he tries to follow in pursuit, smiling a little while he leaves a trail of kisses up the navel of your torso.

Laid beneath him in a vulnerable state, your hands were above your head feeling breathless and overwhelmed. You couldn't process everything at once as you felt like the predator had caught its prey in one go.

You observe how his large palms effortlessly veiled around the bust of your breasts. Squeezing them with a gentle yet firm grasp, his thumbs graced ever so gently over your nipples in circular motion. Attentive to the shaky exhale, he notices how your buds become swollen and hard. Taking one in his mouth, he sucks on it gracefully while he teases and pinches the other.

Although you were growing anxious, impatient and needy, you found yourself staring at the boxes of fruit.

"Mmph, jason?"

"Mm'yes baby?"

Your nipple pops from out of his mouth, going in to give the other a lick, he proceeds to leave more kisses down your navel. Mentally thanking God for every imperfect perfect flaw he had placed along your body.

"Shouldn't we...ah, shit...put the fruit away before they melt?"

Jason was too enthralled, in his own little world, to worry about that damn fruit. The way you were worrying your pretty little head over the littlest things had him chuckling wholeheartedly.

He was too bothered to say a word as he was preoccupying himself with your cunt. It looked like a beautiful sloppy mess after he pulled the thong to the side. To see your pretty little pussy glisten under the dim lighting, had his dick twitching in his pants.

"I don't want them to melt...if we...don't put them... Oh my god..." You gasp out of surprise when you feel something soaking wet and warm lapping at your cunt. Gripping onto the cushions, your body tenses as you grew a frown on your face. "Ooh Jason" He spots the rise and fall of your chest as your breathing altered and had grown rapidly.

He moans at the taste of you, closing his eyes to concentrate on the way you lingered on his buds. As large as his hands were, you felt comfortable in the warm callous of his palms. Holding your thighs wide open in place, Jason caresses your skin lovingly while he coaxes you in a deep trance, completely wiping your mind clean as you focused on the way his mouth maneuvered.

It left you speechless, surprised, mind blown, mouth gaped open at the wet muscle gliding between your folds and over your clit. You felt frozen in place, gripping at the cushions as you moaned his name in bliss.

"Fuck, you taste so good, baby."

Relentless and quenching for thirst, the more he inhaled your scent and continued to wallow in it, he found himself growing careless while he devours you.

Your arousal messily drips from around your thighs onto the sofa. You nearly clench your legs closed to the weird sensation of smacking, slurping, squelching and gushing from your pretty little hole.

As he latches his mouth around your lower lips, he dips two fingers into your heat. The vibrations of his grunts sends a tickling sensation to your clit. His other hand gripped your thigh steadily in place, feeling a surge of shivers go down your spine when you feel him pull away.

"Mhm, there you go, baby, that's it, just relax for me." He instructs, watching as your head lulls back in the armrest, shoulders slumped as you tug at the cushions.

"Focus on me. Focus on the way I make you feel, feels good now doesn't it?" You nod, humming in response. "Good...you always got your mind wondering about the littlest things, sweetheart." he chuckles observing how your body responds to him, hips bucking for more. "As much as I love you catering to me, tonight I just want it to be all about you. You deserve to relax, to feel good, you deserve to shut your brain off and let me take care of you. Let me treat you to something more soft and sweet. I wanna make sure you're at peace. You deserve to enjoy yourself, mama. You think you can you do that for me?"

You nod but he grunts in disapproval, "use your words, y/n, I wanna hear you say it."

"G-God yes, I can do that." You moaned.

Jason's fingers enter inside your leaking cunt, long and intruding, he thrusts them into your gummy walls. Feeling your sticky walls contract around his digits, he hums pleasing to her sucking him further in, each time getting deeper and deeper. Receiving a glossy shine from your arousal, he smirks moving forward between your thighs.

He takes charge effortlessly controlling and molding your body the way he wants. Massaging at your calves, up around your knees to your thighs where he skims his fingers down and over the inner parts of your thighs and around your hips.

The tips of his fingers reaches towards the curve of your breast, fondling and playing with your hardened nipples, he feels you start to move against him. His tongue thrusting in and out of you, you begin to moan loudly as you swivel your hips to match his pace.

"How does that feel baby? Feels good? Am I doing okay?" His voice grew an octave lower, deeper and raspier than before.

He was near the brink of wanting to ravenously eat you out the more he inhaled your essences. He felt your hands begin to tug at his hair and whine and whimper to the nibbling of teeth at your neck, tasting your perfume along his buds.

"S-So good, you're treating me so well." You stutter.

Groans and moans grew intense, finally giving in and throwing in the towel. Your body submits to the need of yearning, allowing him to stubbornly tend to your aching need.

He took his time appreciating, glorifying, worshiping your body and you as whole. He knew the right words to say, ones that made you feel bubbly inside. He knew how to make a girl feel special.

You always found yourself worrying about something or someone. You could never catch a break. You could never just take a breather for once. But that's what he wanted from you, for you to catch a break. To let someone else take the reins for once and just let you lay back and relax.

At some point you felt so weak and helpless emitting these pathetic whimpers as he slowly took his time to cherish you. But you couldn't help it, that's just how you felt, you were vulnerable underneath his care.

"M'gonna cum, Jay..." You stifled, arching into him.

"Mm, go on baby, cum for me." He instructs benevolently.

Once you release your final shakey exhale, your eyes fluttered close. Your lower abdomen churns and twists as if a knot had become undone, the rushing feeling of liquid exiting from out of your entrance spurts all over his fingers, a creamy substance coating them prettily.

"Mhm, there you go, baby. Such a good girl." He praises, licking your cum from off his fingers and down from your center. "Damn, you taste sweeter and sweeter every time." He murmurs, cleaning the rest of the mess you made before planting a kiss.

"Mm, off...please," you demand eagerly.

"Heh, needy baby?" He puzzles, pecking your lips repeatedly with an amused yet teasing tone to his voice.

"Very." You say trying to search for an opening any where in his suit.

"Okayokayokay! Hold on, love. Patience." He laughs prying your hands away from his body.

You watched as he strips of his suit, when he feels your gaze on him, he turns to you with a mischievous smirk, eyes filled with lust. "How you want it, baby?" He asks voice sultry as he kisses between your jaw and neck.

"Like this," you respond, pouting. "I wanna see your face."

"As if you don't see this face enough, every single day." Brushing his hair from out of his face, he groans to the feeling of his hand wrapped around his dick. Thick and long, precum protruding from his pink mushroom tip, you glimpse at the way his thumb begins to smear it around the tip and along his shaft, collecting salvia halfway, he slowly strokes himself off.

"When we have sex it's different. It's more intimate and sweet, gratifying even." You say seductively, biting on your lip.

Pussy beginning to ache and throb at the sight of him. Your delicate fingers draw south of your body like a magnet, gliding them between your folds, up and down and around your clit, you start to apply more pressure.

He notices you start to work yourself through, twitching in the palm of his hand, he glares over the way you handle yourself with such elegance.

Silky and sultry, he's vigilant to the way you moan his name, persuading him to come closer with just one single look.

Gradually with close and careful precision, the tip of his dick asserts itself inside you. Inch by inch, the girth of him painfully yet pleasing stretches you out.

Immediately groaning at the tightness, you praise him for the way he completes you, fulfilling every inch till he was half way in.

He fitted right on in like a missing puzzle piece clearing the void perfectly with the roll of his hips.

With a blissful sigh, your head goes back.

Welcoming the agonizing warmth through your body, your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth. As you focus on the way he thrusts in and out of you steadily, slowly you try to adjust to his size, cursing underneath your breath, "F-fuck it's been too long. You're so big, baby." You whimper.

"I know, baby, I i know, just relax for me, m'kay?" he coos burying his face into the crook of your neck.

Danity hands running past his shoulders, the rippling effect of his muscles beneath your fingertips to then wrap your arms around him completely, drawing him closer.

Eyes fluttering shut the scent of his heavy cologne and gunpowder overwhelms you, traces of your kisses left on his shoulder and neck, your right hand moves towards the roots of his hair, curling around his silky strands.

Veiny hands brushing between the ends of your thighs to the roundness of your ass, your knees bend and legs open a little bit more for him to bottom out. His cock domineering into the dark enclosed space, he feels you pucker around the base of his dick, sucking him in deeper and deeper till he reached your pillowy cervix.

Your beautiful raunchy melodies grew louder and louder with every passing minute.

"Shit, Jay yes, right there."

Moaning his name repeatedly, his pace accelerates, hips starting to rut in rhythmic motion. Breaths bated, heavy grunts and cursing underneath his breath, he listens to you begin to wail as your nails dig into his skin. Skin slapping skin from the result of his hips pounding into yours, the continuous squelching of your arousal coaxes around your thighs with a fervor.

Nose ghosting over your pulse, he hums at the increase of your heart beat, lips placing a delicate kiss to the inimate space, he hears you start to speak gibberish.

"Fuck... I love you, I love you so much."

Without second thought, your words overflow like a fountain.

Joyously overcame with the idea of being adorned and desired from someone worth loving. You chose him out of all people, you chose him to be the love of your life.

And hearing those three little words slip from out of your mouth, made his movements go slow.

Eyes shot open and wide, he swears his heart just skipped a beat.

Flushed out of shock, his head stayed at the base of your neck. You, however, continued to hold him. Knowing that your words were gonna come off as unexpected and sudden, you didn't want to let him go, you weren't going to allow him to run away from the fact that the moments you've shared together wasn't all for nothing. That feeling that scared the living shit out of both of you was there.

Jason was terrified to say it. Maybe because he didn't ever want to run into the possibility of his lover being taken away from him? How his lifestyle is, he never had the problem of losing anything but when he met you, it was different. There was a chance, a possibility, that you could be gone in a blink of an eye. It was hard to fathom how someone, like you, could be so precious and yet so sweet, live in a world that was all dark and gloomy, his world, specifically. It didn't add up and didn't make any sense why you stayed with him after knowing what he does, after knowing about his messed up past and who his family truly was and what he was all about. How could you have stayed all this time?

There was silence.

You feel his head lift to give you a studied gaze, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks. Your thumbs stroke at his scarred face.

He leans into your embrace, his forehead meeting yours, nose brushing against yours, his breath bated just as much as yours. This unfamiliar emotion growing deep within his chest made him suddenly shy, eyes flickering between yours with swollen gaped lips.

"It's okay, Jay, you can say it." You coerce in a hush tone, glancing between his orbs.

He completely melts into you, his gaze softening with grace and adoration.

"I love you, y/n," He utters, feeling his chest tighten. "I love you so much. I love you with fiber in my body. I love you to the point of living...to the point of death." His jaw clenched, swallowing hard. "Fuck... you make me feel so alive...I couldn't lose you to anything, baby, I can't...you'd be the death of me."

All you could do was smile and reach in to give him a sloppy kiss.

Like countless times before he proves himself right.

Without even telling you, you knew from the way he cared for you time after time again that he's always loved you and vise versa of course. You knew deep down inside he loved you from the start. It was evident in the way he kept engaging with you, there was consistency, constantly making effortless eye contact with you and attentive to you mentally, physically and emotionally. He loved you past your flaws. Equally, you both loved how you two just connected with a snap of a finger.

Even after this moment you were so sure of his promise-- his oath, that you were his one and only.

And after a few rounds of endless love making, intensive fucking and tainting each other's skin, Jason and you were tangled up on the floor with your backs against the couch. While opening the last bit of gifts, a polyester blanket covers your lower halves as you feed each other chocolate covered fruit and sip on some wine.

Aside from the necklace you'd gotten this morning, you received a pair of your favorite shoes. You've been keeping your eyes on them for awhile now. They were expensive as hell and you were just waiting for them to get on sale.

Jason, however, went ahead and bought them without hesitation. He also bought a couple of outfits to even complete the look. You'd receive a goody basket of all your favorite snacks, a big stuffed teddy bear and another vinyl to add to your collection.

For Jason, he was gifted another book from a vintage store, a brand new pair of shoes since the last ones were starting to get a little raggedy, two matching hoodies and sweatpants, and a recipe book that he had been meaning to get but completely forgotten about it.

When the boxes were all empty and red wrapping paper was all over the place, he noticed one more sitting on the coffee table by the half empty bottle of wine.

"I'm assuming this one's for me?" He points, cocking a brow at you.

You frown following his gaze.

"Oh shit, yeah, that's yours alright." You confirm stuffing your mouth with a gummy bear, propping your arm up on the couch and resting your head in your hand.

He chuckles with a shake of his head, reaching for the red heart shape bag and settling back down beside you.

You study carefully as he starts to pull the paper from out of the bag. Expecting to see the present right then and there, he scoffs when he lifts the box in his hand.

"What did you get me, woman?" He grumbles playfully, putting the bag and paper to the side.

"Open it and you shall find out." You state smartly drawing closer to him with anticipation.

The last gift you'd gotten him was a military dog tag, a locket with a picture of you and him inside it. It captured the moment when he had asked you to be his girlfriend in midwinter. Around the falling snow at a nearby park. There was a wide smile on your face when you had said yes. Jason was so nervous that day, he thought he was going to shit his pants.

Beside it was a silver sterling ring with gold edges around it and along the inside of it were the words "forever mine" engraved on it.

Although he wasn't the kind of person to lavish in jewelry, this was something worth showing off... aside from you of course.

He looks to you with gratitude, leaning in to give you a passionate kiss, you move half way. Your noses brush before your lips collide.

The lingering taste of pineapple kiwi from the candy along your tongue evolves in his mouth as he deepens the kiss.

Sucking the sweetness off your lips, his hand wraps around your neck, engulfing every sense of you as your mouths moved leisurely.

"I love you." He whispers once more, after parting from you.

Observing the sparkle in your eyes under the candle lighting, he notices the smile across your face grew wider, nudging your nose against his sweetly.

"I love you too, Jason. Happy Valentine's Day, baby."

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 ©𝐦𝐭𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

Masterlist | 𝕾𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

[urfavleo777]

part i.

pairing: luigi mangione x f!reader warnings: nsfw, professor/student, praise kink, fingering, oral (m), p in v

***

Mr Mangione: Considering how many times we went over it, you should definitely be proud. It’s a solid piece now.

Oh wow, that’s new. You actually liked something I wrote?

Mr Mangione: I already told you you’re a good writer. Just needed a little polishing.

Mr Mangione: Do you have any exams today?

Yes, of Feminist literature. But later I’m  free. Why?

Mr Mangione: If you want, you can come over after. I'll give you the paper back. Wrote you some comments on it. Otherwise, I’m keeping the essay forever.

No. I would like it back. 

Mr Mangione: Good. I was hoping you would. I’ll send you the address later. 

And good luck on your exam. Try not to stress too much, alright?

Alright, Professor. 

***

You climbed the steps slowly. You knocked—three quick, uncertain taps—and waited, heart slamming against your ribs.

The door opened immediately, and there he was—Professor Mangione. You couldn’t help but pay attention to how good he looked today. Well, he looked good everyday, but today especially with his well fitted jeans that stretched taught over the shape of his thighs, ass and bulge.

He closed the door behind you and gave you a small smile. 

“So,” he said, leaning against the frame, “how’d the exam go? Survived the feminist lit battlefield?”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled. “Barely. I probably quoted de Beauvoir like a broken record.”

He laughed softly. “I’d expect nothing less. You have a way of making philosophy sound sexy.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. He took a step closer, eyes sparkling. “I’m proud of you. You worked hard, and it shows.”

You glanced away, suddenly shy. “You really mean that?”

He shook his head, smiling wider. “I mean it every time I see you surprise me. You’re way stronger than you think.”

Luigi disappeared into the kitchen and returned a moment later with a stack of papers—your papers—carefully stapled together and covered in tiny notes. He plopped down on the couch and began to look through the documents cursorily.

“C’mere.” He crooked two fingers, and you eagerly obeyed, sliding your head onto his shoulder without hesitation, catching the faintest smile from him. He started praising you in between the slow kisses. You shivered when his words mixed with the heat of his touch.

“I kept my promise,” he said, tracing your arm with his fingers. “I didn’t hold back. I wanted you to see what I saw in it.”

You flipped through it slowly. Notes everywhere. Words like “strong point,” “elegant structure,” “brava.”

Your heart stuttered.

“I’ve never seen this many compliments on anything I’ve written,” you murmured, catching yourself biting your lip.

“You crave praise,” he noticed. “Don’t you?”

Your breath had shuddered out of you. Your knees felt a little weak.

“You want more than a grade,” he said, and this time, there was something else in his voice—reverence, almost. Something like awe. “You want to be seen. Worshipped.”

He pushed your skirt up and bit his lip. His long stealthy finger was circling your clit, toying with it like it was some button.  “Sir,” your voice was between a weep and a moan. “I can't take it anymore..” you whimpered as he put pressure on the bud.

He gave you another kiss before reaching for his cock with one hand. “On your knees, sweetheart. I'm going to fuck that mouth, baby. May I do that?”

You sank down without hesitation and searched for validation in his eyes as you obeyed. He saw that; a slight smirk appeared on his lips.

“Che bella sei,” he said softly. “I see you. All of you. You look so beautiful, sweetheart.”

“I want you in my mouth,” you said with those pretty eyes, and for a second he thought he was dreaming. “Please.”

Because this couldn’t be real. There was no way in hell he was looking at you, in his living room, begging to suck his cock. His pretty, perfect girl. Luigi ran his hands down his face, and a sound of utter disbelief escaped him. But then he was nodding, just as eager. “Yeah, baby,” he said. “Course you can.”

Your responding smile sent a shiver down his spine. Finally, you tugged at the buckle of his leather belt. He could do nothing but watch with reverence as you unbuttoned his jeans and pulled at his zipper, tongue wetting your lips.

You hummed around him, sending vibrations down his shaft, and he groaned, bucking his hips forward just slightly. Your eyes watered, but you didn’t stop—you wanted him to use you. His breathing turned ragged as you took him deeper, faster, spit dripping down your chin, your hand stroking what your mouth couldn’t reach.

“Look at you,” he growled, gaze locked on yours. “Takin' my cock like a good little slut.”

Luigi leaned over onto the couch, delivering a harsh slap to your ass. His forward motion caused his cock to slide deeper into your tight throat, his balls tensing.

He was going to cum sooner than he wanted to, but he slowly stopped caring. Not when a pretty student like you was sucking him off so desperately.

“You gonna swallow my load? Drink it all down like a good fuckin' whore?” He grunted, his hand starting to guide your head which made you feel him all the way to your throat. But you didn't want to disappoint your professor, so instead of pulling away you dug your nails into his thighs, making him hiss.

“Take my cum, gorgeous.”

Your throat tightened around him as he bucked his hips once, twice—then groaned deep from his chest as he spilled down your throat, hot and thick. You swallowed instinctively, desperate to please, your eyes flicking up to meet his as you did.

“Fuck,” he growled, staring down at you like you were unreal. “Look at you. So fuckin’ perfect for me.”

You held him in your mouth a moment longer, feeling every twitch, every shudder, before finally pulling back, a strand of spit still connecting you.

He cupped your jaw, thumb swiping gently across your bottom lip. “Knew you could take it,” he cooed, watching as you laid on your back and spread your thighs, showing him your leaking cunt.

Your fingers roamed his shoulders and neck, tracing the hard lines of his body as he spread your legs, tossing your panties aside. 

“You want this, love?” he whispered against your lips.

You nodded almost imperceptibly before crashing your lips back to his, like you just couldn’t get enough. 

He kissed you back like a magnet, but just as quickly, he pulled away again. 

“Words,” he said sternly, settling himself between your thighs, lazily pumping his still ready cock with his free hand.

You huffed, ever the impatient brat. “Give it to me, Mr Mangione. Put your cock in me, now.”

“Patience, love. You’re gonna feel every inch.” His hand slid lower, fingers teasing your slick folds, making you shiver with need. He leaned in close, breath hot against your ear. “Tell me exactly how much you want me.”

You whimpered, barely able to form the words, voice thick with want. “So much… please.”

You gasped at the stretch, at the exposure, but then you felt it — the blunt head of his cock, hot and heavy, nudging your entrance.

“This pussy,” he murmured, dragging the head through your folds. “Mine now.”

“Fuck— professor—”

“There you go — yeah, take it, baby. Know you needed this cock, yeah? Uh huh, I know.” He gritted, bottoming out with a groan, his forehead resting against the back of your shoulder. “Take it. Take all of me. Just like that.”

He had imagined you before. He knew you would look gorgeous spread out for him on any surface, but the reality of watching you cum—your mouth hanging open in that soft ‘o,’ brow furrowed tight— that was something else entirely.

“O-oh my God—!” You were a whore, a blubbering mess, both legs hooked around his hammering hips while your arms kept a tight grip on his burly shoulders.

“Atta girl,” he grunted. “Doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”

And then he started thrusting deeper and that crescendo of wonderfulness was approaching rapidly. It was perfect and just exactly what you needed. And he knew that. Of course he knew that. And he was so big and felt so good and — one last thrust to the hilt and you were creaming all over his cock, arching and crying out.

He felt the muscles in his abdomen tighten in pleasure and couldn’t help himself from wanting to finish inside of you. Just a little deeper and it would stick, he was sure of it. 

“‘M not gonna last long..” His voice was strained and panting as he looked up at you, his face so pretty as it contorted and twisted in absolute pleasure.

“Are you going to fill me up, professor?” You asked and he moaned. “You gonna let me?” 

“Cum with me. I want you to fill me up.” A groan he’d been holding was finally released, loud and in bursts. He let out a long string of moans and curse words as you came with him, your forehead falling against his shoulder. Your toes finally relaxed after being curled for so long.

Both of your chests were heaving heavily, breaths coming out in exhausted pants as you both rode out your highs. “Mh, feels so good, professor.” 

“Not professor right now,” he murmured, voice rough and low. His lips brushed your temple. “Just call me Luigi.”

You looked up at him, dazed and glowing, and he gave you a soft, crooked smile—so rare, so real.

You swallowed, your lips parting as your gaze locked with his—still hazy from the high, but soft now, searching.

“Luigi,” you breathed, almost shyly, like you weren’t sure if it was allowed.

His smile deepened, something warm flickering behind the usual intensity in his eyes. He leaned in and kissed you—slow, like he was savoring the sound of his name on your tongue.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured against your lips, pulling you closer, chest to chest, like he couldn’t stand even an inch of space between you.

[khuzena]

Not just a stone

Aventurine x f! reader

Summary: love, isn't that such a wonderful dream? Despite this, make sure to not get stuck in it. To be stuck in a dream is to abandon reality, yet this dream is all he has.

 Cw. Angst, smut, creampie ig, no comfort bc that's boring

A/n: wrote this under an hour and it's not proofread so 🤷

“All or nothing.”

For most of his life, he's always been just Aventurine. A polished gem, capable of handling anything you dish out to him. Whether it be a heavy workload or cruel treatment from others; his luck seems to never run out.

So when you came around, it was different. 

The way you gently took his hand in yours, your feather like kisses that tainted his forehead— he wanted to run. 

“I love you”, a soft moan escaped your lips as you arched your back from the harsh bending he put you through. 

He wants to see you break, to make you stop this madness; the madness being you treating him like an actual person, not the stoneheart or eccentric gambler. 

But he can't. 

For the first time in his life, he starts thrusting slowly, gently, making sure you're handled with care, as if you're porcelain. 

He leans down to bite on your neck, a part of him wanting to claim you. He's never owned anything that was truly his, that never left him. So when you stare at him with a gaze full of lust— is when he realised he could have something for himself. 

‘pap’, ‘pap’, ‘pap’, sweat trickled down his forehead as his digits snaked to your spent clit, the stimulation sending you over to the edge, is it so selfish to have you, is it so selfish to want you as his own? 

Aventurine does a pretty good job of pushing people away, no one ever had good intentions with his heart. 

For a man who never shuts up, the words are stuck in his throat— are they tears? No, no, he spent enough tears on the day of his capture of his old Master. So why? 

“I'm close—fuck…”, you sigh between gritted teeth, Aventurine lifted your legs onto his shoulders to hit that spongy spot deeper. It's too much. 

Only your wanton moans were heard in his usually empty apartment room. He'd take you out usually in fancy hotels, drowning you in riches till you forget how to breathe, making sure you're taken care of. He's silent. 

Your hole melted around his shaft, it felt utterly lewd on how he shaped your walls to the size of his cock, he can't bear to lose anyone anymore. 

As selfish, as shameless as it seems, he grinds his hips faster into yours, the palm of his hand squeezing your tit harshly as he wants— no he needs to destroy you. 

“Oh— fuck!”, a wave of pleasure washes over you, enough to drown out your senses and any other thoughts in your mind.

Despite this, he continues to move. 

His eyes blown out as he desperately chases his high, fuck. Was it really selfish to just taint every part of you as his so no one would ever dare take you away? 

Tears well up his eyes, not because you feel good, but because of how damn good you are at breaking him with that stupidly lovesick stare of yours.

 He needs to paint your walls white, to litter your skin with enough marks— inflict enough pain on you to make sure he's truly yours.  

The bed shook with his harsh thrusting, was he really making love to you or was he just trying to destroy you enough to be sure he can call you his? He doesn't know, he thinks it's the latter. 

With one more thrust, he never wants to leave this dream. Your eyes rolling to the back of your hand, those gentle hands who cup his cheeks to comfort him now harshly gripping on the sheets, the way you clench down on his cock like a vice— he feels wanted. 

Even if it's just your body that wants him, it's enough.

But you always give more than what you should. 

He smirks when he sees you writhing under him desperately, he's painted your walls white he's happy that he's destroyed you for any other man you'll ever meet again.

No matter how fucked out you are, you still had it in you to pull him towards you, to land a sweet kiss that he swears was just a dream. 

Why can't you just stop looking at him that way? 

“I love you,” again, a whisper so quiet yet it's all he could hear. He bites his lip in anxiety, “Stop saying that.”

“Why?”, why exactly? 

“Just stop,” none of you moved. It felt good being inside you, just plugging your used cunt to keep his cum in there. 

“I don't care, I love you”

He wants to scream, shout, and be angry with you. An aventurine stone is durable enough to withstand being worn in jewellery; it is relatively hard, so it should not break or crack easily. 

But when you're under him, every second, it's like he's about to crack, so close to breaking.

He's being so out of character, he thinks. 

He chewed his lip, the sight of you making him feel nauseous. You're as gentle as the sun, so why stick to him, why burn him until there's no more of him left? 

Do you take pleasure in this madness? Will you leave him just like everyone else? He thinks you're a mind reader, because how else would you know what he's thinking?

“I'm not going anywhere”, you give his arm a reassuring squeeze but it's not enough, “Stop, stop lying to me—”, “I'm not.”

Droplets of tears taint your skin, it burns more than any other hickey or scar he could ever give you, “Why would I lie to you?”

Time and time again, no matter how many times he tries to break you, to own you, it's always you who wins. He might ruin you for any other man, but you'll crush him like selenite under a hydraulic press. 

He can break your body, he can hurt and use you but he'll always be on the losing end because it would mean losing you. 

Again, you find a way to break him with a few words, “I love you.”

It's not a promise, it's your truth.

Like the pathetic man he is, he cries. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I don't want to hurt you”, but you are. You are giving him something to own, not just your body, your love and soul. And for everything he can own, it's something he can lose. 

“Don't do this,” he starts moving again, maybe it'll be enough to drown out his tears with pleasure. 

Fuck— he flipped you over, then brutally jutting his hips into yours. He doesn't want to see your face, it's the last thing he needs to see. “A-aven…”

It feels good enough, good enough to forget the nonsense you kept spouting out earlier. 

“Shut up, just shut up.” He's far from gentle, he needs to break you, he'll succeed this time. 

He fucks into you with vigor, eyes trained on the bouncing of your ass, the pad of his palm slapping it brutally, leaving a fading red on the supple skin. 

“Why do you do this to me?” his voice raspy as his throat burned from tears, from your kindness, “Do you really want to see me break?”

You stay silent, letting him destroy your body, letting him slap each and every crevice, every nook and cranny of your body; because he needs it. 

You try to ignore the tears that dripped on your back, his aggressive grab on your waist. He cries. 

His voice going hoarse, his egocentric behaviour no more, “Answer me!” 

You lowered your head as he destroyed your cunt from the back, why can't he just stop this? Both of you are breaking. 

The more he tries to break you, he kills himself. 

“Please,” his ministrations slowing for a moment to let you think, you cannot ignore his pleas. 

Out of common courtesy in a conversation to reply, “It's not my fault you are.”

Ah.

“I hate you—,” “Aventurine, stop.” 

Your walls clamp down on his length, he goes faster, pulling your hair. At this point, he's trying to kill you, not just break you.

“Shut up, please…” he begs again. 

‘pap’, ‘pap’, ‘pap’, you oblige and don't say a word. One more, one more. You can't see his face but his breaths got heavier, you know he's crying too. 

Like a frenzied man, he goes faster until you can no longer take. He wants you to leave him so he doesn't have to lose you the way he's lost every other thing he's loved. 

Cum spurted on the bedsheets, a trademark for your stupid little affair. 

He pulls out, no longer wanting to be close to you, “Don't go,” are you out of your mind? No matter how many times he tries to push you away, you keep pulling him towards you.

“I can't promise that.” he gives in. 

“You don't have to, just stay.”

“I have to go.”

“Please.”

Just this once, it's okay to indulge in you. 

He stares at you with half-lidded eyes, desperate for validation. You stare back into his, with empty ones. Without a second thought, you hugged him, he knows you're all just a fleeting dream. 

He shudders against your touch when you leave familiar kisses on his neck, dangerously close to the barcode of ownership of IPC on him. He can't bring himself to tell you to stop. 

For all his life, he was Aventurine first, never Kakavasha. Tonight, he is not an Aventurine. Not the stoneheart, not the IPC's ornament. He is yours.

Enough time passed that you fell asleep, he draped the comforter on your used body. He can't bring himself to give you a final goodbye kiss. 

He closes the door quietly, knowing there won't be a next time. 

A voice rings in his ears, “Did you enjoy your dream? If so, leave a 5 star review!”

He sighs to himself, exiting the dreamscape.

Note: it's kinda meh since it was just a spur of the moment kinda fic and i forgot how to write good smut since its been a while 💀. I hope its okay.

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

Shapeshifter Anatomy

shapeshifter is a broad category, covering any fictional creature or peoples that can alter the shape of their body. some can shift into pretty much any animal, like animorphs or DnD druids. some are shapeshifters against their will, like werewolves. I'll be covering the anatomical possibilities for shapeshifters with a limited ability to change their shape, more like werewolves.

the anatomy required to change one's form mostly involves keeping a lot of body parts "hidden" until they're brought out to use. there are a lot of animals that can do this! cats have retractable claws, eels have a secondary jaw in their throats, many snakes have large fangs that fold back in the mouth. etc.

hair and feathers are also capable of changing the shape of a creature by the way they move, like the quills of a porcupine or the display feathers of many birds of paradise. this is a much less flexible sort of shapeshifting, but it's a good option for intimidation and courting displays or temporary disguise.

to keep this post simple, I'm just going to focus on a humanoid with a singular monstrous form, but these concepts could be used for a lot of different creatures! though I haven't fully determined how to make someone go from mostly hairless to suddenly very furry. Maybe becoming a werewolf just gives you a lot more body hair growth and it puffs up during the transformation.

(image description: compiled sketches of different animal anatomy. in the top left corner, there are colored diagrams showing the different parts of a human skull and a wolf skull. in the top left, a diagram showing how cat claws retract and bend forward. on the bottom, sketches of moray eel and viper skulls, showing the eel's secondary jaw and the viper's folding fangs. end description.)

It took a while but i managed to find an ask i answered a while back about giving humanoids retractable claws like cats have. so that's at least one part of possible shapeshifter anatomy covered! the tldr is this: retractable claws actually require the first joint of the finger or toe to be folded backwards, and then the claw comes out when that joint flexes forward. it does make the fingers and toes shorter and more bulky at the front, but that's fine.

here's a look at just the skull and upper torso of a potential were-creature or monstrous humanoid.

(image description: colored sketches of a humanoid skeleton with a retractable fang on both the upper and lower jaws, as well as an extra joint on the lower jaw, and neck vertebrae that sit more curved in the first sketch and straighten out to a longer neck in the second sketch. end description.)

this could use more polish before it's really ready to add the fleshy parts on top, and they wouldn't quite look fully human on the outside. If you want to take something like this even further, you can alter the entire skull to be full of small moving joints, like how so many fish are able to fold up their jaws and then shoot them forward like a tube. or the sarcastic fringehead, a fish that can unfold its jaw as a method of intimidation.

(video description: a 3d model of a carp's jaw, showing how it's made of multiple parts that can all move and extend the mouth. end description.)

(image description: two photos of a sarcastic fringehead. the top photo shows this fish at rest, with its jaw frame folded backward along its face. the bottom image shows this fish with its jaw fully extended, revealing a very wide panel of brightly colored flesh on either side of the mouth. end description.)

facial changes like this are probably the most difficult part of making the anatomy for a shapeshifter. but the more moving parts their face has, the more variety of face shape you get! moving to the rest of the body though, let's consider how an upright human figure could shift into a quadrupedal form with digitigrade legs, since werewolves are probably among the more common creatures all this advice is useful for.

(image description: a simplified human skeleton and wolf skeleton next to each other, with an arrow pointing from the human to the wolf. end description)

pretty much all vertebrates have things in common when it comes to the form of their skeletons. the general location of each limb and the ribs and pelvis are always similar. but their exact size and shape varies from animal to animal. so you can't really make a normal human skeleton turn into a normal wolf skeleton. but you can make a weird human skeleton that doubles as a weird wolf skeleton.

(image description: same as above, but now the human shaped skeleton and the wolf shaped skeleton match each other, and the human shaped one is hiding its longer neck, spine, and tail by holding them with a far more curved shape while the wolf shaped skeleton holds them more straight. end description.)

okay they're not an exact match, but I tried. any humanoid being with a skeleton like this is not going to be able to fool anyone into thinking they're a normal human when they're naked. but with the right styling of clothes, a lot of the weird curves, hunched shoulders, and awkward feet problems can be hidden from view.

anything that gets more complicated than this will require extra bones and joints and muscles depending on what exactly you need your shapeshifter to do! a change in posture is a lot different than, say, being able to extend the length of their limbs or alter the shape of their ribcage by making it more narrow and protruding vs more flat and open.

I can't personally cover every single possibility! so you all will have to just use this post as a springboard and go explore more ideas yourself! I started with the idea of taking a human skeleton and altering it, but imagine what this would look like if the base form was entirely non-human! or if they were more of an invertebrate! extra arms can be folded to resemble the shape of a torso, for example. there are so many more options I'm sure I didn't even think of.

go put your mind to work and have fun!

[ruija]

Well I really love your art, may I ask how do u color? I struggle with coloring turtles and I wasn't to know how do u do that?

Hi anon! That's a very broad question, so you've given me a great excuse to ramble anything I want about my coloring, eehehehee~! This will be in two parts and I'll start with talking about my simpler coloring style.

As in, when I color characters on a white background, with a limited or light palette.

The driving force behind this style is me being lazy. My time, energy, and attention span are pretty limited, so if I want to finish anything, I gotta do it fast. And with fanart, I'm usually just doing it for fun and relaxation, so there's no need to push myself to polish it too much.

Despite that, I rarely post just black and white sketches or line arts. I always try to add at least a little bit of toning or shading, because that makes the image easier to read. The characters and their shapes pop out and catch the eye of the viewer better.

However, in this particular example, just the couple toning colors don't quite do the job. The way Don and Leo are entangled makes the center area of this illustration very busy and hard to read.

As a comparison; this pic has only one tone + mask colors, and it works. This is because all the characters are standing separately and their poses are very stationary and simple.

So for the Don + Leo pic, adding some shadows helps in bringing out shapes and depths. Also in general, if you don't feel like drawing BGs, it's good to at least add a shadow below the characters. It grounds them and makes them feel like they exist within a space.

Sometimes if the posing looks too complex and busy, it might just be best to color in the characters fully.

However, even if I do full flat colors, I tend to use a lighter palette. Putting characters in their neutral/default color on a white BG can look a bit jarring as if they're floating in a void. It feels less immersive and like the picture is unfinished.

Using lighter colors makes the image more cohesive, and fits the characters into the white environment a bit more naturally.

If I'm too lazy to draw a BG, I prefer using stylized and limited colors. It feels deliberate and that the whiteness is just part of the palette, whereas the character-accurate colors on white don't match as well, even if they're more pastel.

That being said, there's nothing wrong with just slapping the flat-colored characters on a white background. As you know, I do it too. I'm just exposing my 'fancy coloring style' for what it is; me being lazy, hah!

Limited and monochromatic palettes are a nice shortcut even when you do actual backgrounds. It's faster and you don't have to worry about clashing colors. And you can still convey atmosphere and mood.

Also, on the topic of conserving your time and efforts; I think it's very common among younger/less experienced artists to think that the amount of time you spend on your art piece = how good and well received that piece will be.

Which has some merit to it of course, but it can lead to putting too much effort into areas where it's not necessary. E.g. filling the piece with tons of details and clutter that don't serve an actual purpose, but rather make the image hard to read. Or doing really complicated shading for a meme/comic, where simplicity would deliver the joke better.

So whenever I'm drawing something I intend to publish, whether it's a quick doodle or a more polished piece, I try to follow these two principles: Make it easily readable and do the bare minimum that needs to be done to convey what I want to convey.

Putting time into practice is important, but if you draw for work, it's also crucial that you know how to prioritize and use your time efficiently!

Anyway, thanks for reading! In the next part I'll go into how I do my fully colored pieces, so stay tuned for that!

[triviallytrue]

I know webnovels are kind of irrelevant compared to... everything else, but do you have any recommendations in the vein of those you've talked about/posted before?

I'm currently caught up on Pale Lights and TWI, and I'm trying to fill out my schedule to one new chapter a week without resorting to catching up on wildbow's work, or rereading Practical Guide until aforementioned have a backlog. Completed works are fine as well.

Here's my full webserial opinions list, with the general caveat that webserials are, on average, longer, more poorly paced, and less polished than print novels, and if you aren't hooked pretty early on you should probably drop it:

Finished or currently caught up:

A Practical Guide to Evil

The gold standard of the medium imo, definitely my favorite. It has its flaws like any other, but I feel more comfortable recommending it than most.

Pale Lights

PGTE's author's new work. Still in progress, imo has even more going for it than PGTE does. The setting is more original and the shape of the plot plays to the author's strengths more. Very fun first book, maybe my first recommendation.

Worm

The experience of reading Worm is not very good, but the experience of having read Worm is great. Incredibly compelling story with shitty execution. Is it worth it? I dunno.

HPMOR

The 2% of people who won't find HPMOR too insufferable to read have already read it. Everyone else, steer clear.

UNSONG

Both short and polished by web serial standards. Weird, irreverent, mostly gets better as it goes. Some people will be put off by it, but if you like the first few chapters I think it's excellent.

Did not finish:

Ward

The sequel to Worm. Ward has all of the same issues as Worm with none of the redeeming qualities. Even if you really liked Worm, you still probably shouldn't read Ward.

Pale

By the same author as Worm and Ward, and (I think?) generally considered to be his best work (or best since Worm). I liked it but ended up petering out partway through - it's long even by webserial standards. Will probably pick it up again someday.

The Wandering Inn

I think the longest work of fiction in the English language? Or maybe any language? In a medium full of prolific authors, pirateaba puts them all to shame. Surprisingly decent, but nowhere near good enough to justify its length.

Almost Nowhere

Deeply weird, incredibly compelling, dense enough that I got stuck when I was trying to power through it. Will return to it sooner or later.

Are there more? There's definitely more. But this is off the top of my head, and most of the rest is schlock that is not worth mentioning.

[e-to-the-v]

Scar’s Realization

This is set directly after Chapter 9 of Reincarnated into My Wife’s Dating Sim; Why Is the Prince Obsessed With Me!  We read as Scar reflects on his realization from the dance. 

“Crazy how busy one can get halfway through the school year,” Scar thought to himself as he ran from one club that he signed himself up for post the dance to the next club he signed himself up for post the dance.

What?? Him, Scar, signing up for clubs to avoid Mumbo after he realized he might be dating Mumbo? What an absurd idea. No, no, Scar was just so interested in all these clubs. When was he ever going to get the chance to…he looked at the club room…polish dirt again?

Okay maybe Scar was grasping at straws here, but that doesn’t mean this couldn’t be a hobby he enjoyed.

But it turned out that just mindlessly attempting to shape dirt was not keeping his mind off a certain dark haired boy.

Well at first it was. When he started his ball, the dirt reminded him of Grian’s hair, which Scar was content to think about. Then Scar kept thinking, bad idea. 

He thought about what it would be like to polish dirt with Grian. And then Scar thought about how if they did it then Mumbo would be strangely good at it. 

Polishing dirt seemed like it would be one of the weird posh things Mumbo was good at. And how Mumbo would probably look at Scar’s ball and laugh at him in that way he usually does. That stupid laugh that ends with his cute little smile. And he would look at Scar with such a fond look that, on further reflection, made his tummy tingle. 

The ball in his hand squished together as Scar applied too much pressure, turning into a lump of wet dirt. Scar sighed, scooping up his now crushed project and walking it to the front of the room where someone was running the club. 

“Excuse me, do you know where I could dispose of this?” He asked, showing his lump. 

“Prince Scar! Yes, I can take that from you. Sorry about your project.” The student said solemnly.

“It’s no worries, this just isn’t a skill I seem to have.” Scar took notice of the ball the man was shaping. “Unlike yourself. That’s very impressive! Got any tips for a novice like me?”

The kid blushed bashfully. “Oh well it's really nothing special. Everything is about consideration and awareness, how past actions build to your result.”

“Hmm, that’s an interesting perspective. Well I’ll get out of your hair now, have fun.”

“Feel free to come back anytime.”

He was thinking too much and no other club would distract him in the way he wanted. There was only one thing left for Scar to do. Get advice.

Scar had a number of friends he could turn to, but the real question was who? He couldn’t go to Grian, and he sure as hell couldn’t go to Mumbo. Normally he’d talk to Etho about these issues, but the boy seemed off since the night of the dance. Seems like Scar only had one option left, Pearl. 

He made his way over to Pearl’s dorm. She would give him good advice, relationships seemed like something she could be good at.  

Scar gave a little knock at her door. He could hear her shuffling around, moving closer. “I already told you he– oh Scar it’s you. What’s up?” 

“I…um need some advice?”

Pearl sighed. “First Etho and now you. Come on in.” Scar moved into her dorm, choosing to lie on her couch while she sat in an armchair. “So what’s wrong?”

“Well…at the dance I was passing the time and um I might’ve danced with Mumbo… and uh after a bit of thinking I'm pretty sure I’m umm… dating Mumbo?” Scar said quickly.

“...yes, I know?”

Scar sat up. “YOU KNOW??”

“You’ve been dating for a couple years now?”

“We have?!”

“Did you not know?” Pearl looked concerned and disappointed. 

“How was I supposed to know! It’s not like we’ve been romantic or anything.”

“You’re kidding right? Have you seen how the three of you interact?” 

“I thought we were just fighting over Grian. I didn’t think Mumbo and I were….y’know.”

“Really? Do you not have any feelings for Mumbo?” Scar thought about it. Did he have feelings for Mumbo? 

When Scar thought about the dark haired boy, it was usually with more contention than anything. He hated how Mumbo made Grian laugh, he hated how nervous Mumbo was, he hated how proper Mumbo tried to be. He hated Mumbo’s soft expressions, and how the boy would look at Scar with the same soft look. He hated that sometimes his heart longed for Mumbo in the same way it longed for Grian. How Scar desired to just pull him in and hold him close and just–

As Scar realized what he was thinking, blush grew deeper on his face. “I thought I hated him.”

“Hate and love are two very similar emotions. I think I’m starting to realize that as well.” Pearl wisely noted.

“How am I even supposed to talk to him now? Rivals and lovers are very different dynamics.”

“I think you can behave similarly to how you have in the past. It’s not like your whole relationship has changed.”

“It has to me!”

“Has it really? Are you positive the two of you never did anything romantic? Like holding hands?”

“Well we dance like couples do and also we’ve–” Scar cut himself off as it dawned on him. How could he not have realized? “Oh god.”

“What?”

Scar buried his face in his hands. “Mumbo and I have kissed.”

“You’ve WHAT!?” Pearl’s mouth dropped, “And you didn’t think you were dating?!”

“Well… I just thought it was a dare. He just came up to me and kissed me.”

“You are so unbelievably stupid. How are you a prince?”

“Hey! It’s not my fault! No one told me we were in a relationship!” Scar said defensively. 

“So how are you gonna go about this?” 

“I….do not know.” Scar said semi-confidently.

Pearl sighed. “Men.” She shook her head.

—

Acting normal was not something Scar was capable of. He would look at Mumbo and then there would be just too many emotions there that he didn’t know how to handle, so he'd end up running away. Or well, more like ignored Mumbo, which wasn’t good. 

Scar needed to fix it, he just didn’t know how.

And that's how he found himself at a lunch table with Grian across from him and Mumbo next to him. This wasn’t at all an odd set up, but it made Scar aware of how close Mumbo was to him. 

It was a nice meal, Scar primarily kept his focus on Grian and he was positive the other two were none the wiser. A perfect act. Well that was until Mumbo leaned in real close to Scar to make a joke at Grian. And Scar froze.

Mumbo was so close to him, Scar could see him breathing, he could practically smell him! It wasn’t good for his fragile mental stability. As soon as Mumbo moved away from him, Scar hurriedly excused himself and all but ran from the table.

He slowed down when he got to a more secluded hallway. He was so stupid. Why was he having such a hard time around Mumbo? Was it really easier when Scar thought they were just rivals? Maybe Scar should just leave them alone for now…he didn’t want to, but was there really another option?

“Scar!” Mumbo called, running down the hallway. When the boy caught up to him, he took a moment to catch his breath. “Are you okay?” He looked at Scar with such genuine concern that it made him guilty for even considering running away. How could he think about doing that to poor Mumbo? 

Scar turned away from him, feeling the shame in his bones. “I’m fine.” His statement was curt, but he just couldn’t tell him about his struggle. They sat for a moment, neither speaking.

“Do you…not like me anymore?” Mumbo asked quietly.

Scar whipped his head around. “What!?”

Mumbo flinched slightly, his eyes anxiously shifting around, “Well it's just that it feels like you’ve been ignoring me lately, and… I just thought that maybe you were done with me.”

Scar looked at Mumbo, the nervousness and sadness showing through his expression. Scar wanted to wipe it away, and tell him he could never be done with him. “I’m sorry.”

The dark haired boy sighed. “It’s fine. I’ll leave you alone from now on.” He turned to leave.

“No!” Scar grabbed onto Mumbo’s arm. “Don’t leave. I’m so sorry. I just..god I keep putting my arm in my mouth and I never know what to say.”

“It’s foot in your mouth.” Mumbo corrected.

“See, I can’t even get that right.” Scar took the boy’s hands in his own. “Mumbo, I… I love you.”

Mumbo looked at him with a confused expression. “Well I do–”

“No, I hadn’t realized we were romantically involved until the dance.”

Mumbo’s face dropped. “W-What?”

“I was being really stupid, and I just couldn’t see it. So I want you to know that I care for you Mumbo, and I love you.”

The boy looked at him with a slight flush on his cheeks. “I love you too, Scar”

 “I’m so glad you do, it’d be so embarrassing for me if it was unrequited.” Scar said as he pulled Mumbo into a hug.

“Well apparently it was unrequited for me for a while.” Mumbo jokes.

They laughed and Scar was grateful he wasn’t stupid enough to mess this up. 

back to the intro

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

hello fellow,, I just wanted to say I think you're very pretty— And I'd love to watch one of your shows !!

What's your favorite part about your job?

So tell me, do you wanna go?

“Thank you, thank you for the compliment! Aren’t you a flatterer,” Fellow chuckled as he adjusted his lapels. “You, my good spectator, have an excellent eye. And if you’re looking to see far more beautiful things in your life, then have I got the item for you!!”

With the flick of his wrist, he produced a pink shard from his coat pocket. Its clarity was broken by a few scratches, resulting in a color closer to rose fog. The sea glass appeared to be ordinary in every sense of the word.

“This,” Fellow declared, presenting the shard with a flourish, “is rose-tinted glass. Have you heard of it? It’s a special material that was blessed by a fairy godmother! It may look like an ordinary lump now, but refine it, polish it--" He pantomimed cleaning it off with his sleeve. "--and you'll have yourself some fine material for a mirror, glasses, whatever you wish! Anything you see through its face will have its beauty enhanced a hundred-fold!"

"Oooooh." You politely clapped for him. "So that's how your scams--er, I mean shows--work. You butter people up and sell them impossible dreams."

"... That wasn't a demonstration just now, I really was trying to scam you, kid!!" Fellow groaned, letting his smile drop. He dropped the sea glass back into his pocket, then folded his arms. "Don't let it spread, or I could be losin' out on some potential marks."

"Alright, but only if you answer my question too."

"What my favorite part of the job is?" Fellow barked a laugh, but there was no joy to be found in it. "It pays the bills. It lets us survive. It puts snobs in their place. I can be my own boss, go where I like, make my own hours."

"That's it?"

"What, did you expect something flashier?" Fellow angled his hat, allowing the brim to shadow his eyes. "Get your head out of the clouds, kid."

Then he lifted his head and looked out. Past the main building of the school, to the front gates and beyond it. The town below, the sky above, the sea surrounding.

"... Stayin' put in one place never suited me," he said quietly. "There's a whole wide world out there, waiting for my grand ol' shows to come along and wow'm. They'll look at me with stars in their eyes, the crowd alive with sound."

A smile had taken shape on his lips. Not a sneer, not a smirk. A real smile, soft as a baby bird's down feathers.

It dawned on you.

I get it. What he likes the most is... seeing the joy he can bring to others, even if that joy is just a lie.

"Ah, but enough of that!" Fellow swept his top hat off and, inverting it, held it out to you. He beamed expectantly. "In exchange for my time and well-thought-out responses...!"

"Huh? But the deal was I wouldn't let your plot slip if you answered, not money on top of that. I'm barely managing to get by myself on the headmaster's monthly allowance..."

"I have to support myself and Gidel, don't I?" Fellow rattled the hat. "Payment, if you please!!"

You sighed but began digging for loose change.

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY IRON BULL  *  assorted dialogue from dragon age inquisition, updated version

hey, don't top from the bottom.

next time you're free, why don't you come grab a drink?

didn't figure you were the kind to bed your way to power.

love is all starlight and gentle blushes. passion leaves your fingers sore from clawing the sheets.

do you want your silky underthings back, or did you leave those like a token?

you're the toughest, wisest, most beautiful person i've ever met.

these big muscled hands could tear those robes off you while you struggled, helpless in my grip.

i will never hurt you without your permission. you will always be safe.

you don't need to be afraid... unless you want to.

you see us as this forbidden, terrible thing, and you're inclined to do the forbidden...

you want to watch, don't you?

make sure you undress him with your eyes... respectfully.

i'd offer to help you get rid of that frustration but, you know... i'm in a committed relationship.

next time we're alone, i'm going to pin you down and do things your body won't believe.

all that crap made sense to you?

i can't tell you how proud i'm gonna be, watching you out there, addressing them... with this big, old love bite on your neck.

wait, i'll flex a little for you. make it easier.

that staff's in pretty good shape. do you spend a lot of time polishing it?

i can see you don't want to talk about it. bet you looked good doing it, though.

how do you manage that while staring up at everyone's ass the whole time?

you and i are fine as long as you don't do any weird crap.

i'd pin you down, and as you gripped me, i... would... conquer... you.

oh, for shit's sake.

good. i like that energy. stoke those fires, big guy.

all i'm saying is... you ever want to explore that, my door's always open.

worked that out on your own, did you?

you're not as flashy as most mages.

wait, did you "forget" them so you'd have an excuse to come back? you sly dog.

i didn't say it was healthy.

you don't actually like thinking about hurting people, do you?

if you do that, everyone knows you're a spy.

still waiting for me to do something sneaky and spy-like?

we probably won't try down to burn down a city this time.

really not sad i missed that one.

you're lucky then. it was awful.

you only lack the will to get more blood on your hands?

enjoying the great outdoors?

this area's low on dancing girls, sadly.

i've always liked fighting.

i'm not sure you know what you're asking. not sure if you're ready for it.

well, that's a fucking relief.

i'm fine. hurt myself worse than this fooling around in bed.

so, you going to let me have it, [name]? or do i get to wait and wonder?

you really kicked the crap outta that guy.

it's pretty hot where we're from.

it's not a secret. it's just too big for a quit chat.

you get that thing i asked about?

maybe you should stand in front of me.

you ever get the asses mixed up?

you're a damn fine marksman.

i fell on a guy who tried to stab me in the gut.

all right, now you're just making it weird.

nobody fights well when their clothes are on fire.

i... didn't mean to offend you.

that hurts, [name]. that's hurtful.

i may have done it a couple of times on purpose.

i cold 'cause it freezes them, and then they break into little bits when i chop them in half.

with the magic, do you prefer fire, or lightning, or cold, or what?

you don't need to worry. i have no intention of trying to leash anyone.

are you gonna write me into one of your stories?

it's just daring somebody to try to attack it.

when that breaks, you fix it. like we're doing now.

in theory, they're no different from anyone else.

anyone who takes that burden and lives a good life with it has many respect.

you're pretty tall for a human.

the bloodstains are good for scaring enemies.

could you make it sound angrier? "love" is a bit soft.

tell me more about the coat.

i don't need a book to remind me that the world is full of horrible crap.

you're really good with that bow.

it's just friendly. i won't step in your business.

what i'm saying is, please stop stealing my kills.

we should get shirts. probably need different sizes.

i think you're confusing. how can you just pick and choose what parts you believe in?

you know, i really like hitting things.

who has sex smelling like roses?

hey, i don't hate you. you and me? we're good.

hey, no-pants fridays is a cause.

it's a difficult thing you've done, turning your back on one life to live another.

[gachagen]

When I first started playing Reverse: 1999 I was expecting for Vertin to be a very boring protagonist who was maybe even silent the majority of her time on screen, but I really just think that's because these past few years I've only really been playing Hoyoverse games where the protagonist is either a quirky, eccentric girl or a silent person going about their day lol. I've forgotten how great it is when we get an actual protagonist with a realistic personality and rationale!

I also think Bluepoch kept Vertin shrouded in mystery on purpose, because in all of the adverts for this game with Vertin she only ever says a few nondescript lines here and there, and even on the website for the game you still can't really get a read on her as she's just summarizing her journey so far in a pretty monotone voice.

So Vertin is just a surprise you get to experience when you first play the game, and I was not expecting to like her as much as I do. She has a really deep empathetic nature that drives her to try and find more people to save, and you can really tell that she does want to try and save both humans and arcanists.

Vertin is separated from the other characters in the sense that she doesn't see the world completely black and white, and is unwilling to give up when her back is against the wall. Even when she is quite literally being captured by an Arcanist who's leagues above her, she's still willing to try and get away anyways.

And Reverse: 1999 has this theme of "going back to when things were better" VS "Living for the future" that works really with Vertin as the main character. Because the deeper you go into the story, the more you learn that neither Manus Vindictae or The Foundation really care about saving lives from the Storm, Vertin is the only one who wants to put in the effort to try and solve an issue where both Humans and Arcanists can win. And it quickly goes from "Manus Vindictae is the bad guys, and Vertin and the Foundation are the good guys" to "Vertin is alone in this endeavour to save people, and it's her against two powerful organizations alone."

I think that's really cool pacing for the story as well, because it really subverts your expectations early on.

Vertin's care for the other characters is so deeply enshrouded into the game that it bleeds through even into the main mechanics of the game. Like, instead of equipping weapons or armor to your characters, you're shaping their mind with "new ideas" that change them as people, and thats what makes them stronger in battle, not tools or guns.

It's Vertin's ability to make them see the world in a different light and want to live for "the next era" that deepens her bonds with the characters in the suitcase, and instead of giving the characters a "weapon slot" for guns or swords etc, you give them "psycubes" which hold memories and dreams the characters have had before that they look back on fondly.

I really like this game, I don't know if you guys can tell. It's already released and I do think it can use some polish, but it's actually pretty amazing and I'm glad that I was keeping up with it for so long and able to play it on release.

[lavenderbexlatte]

day 3: mirror sex

stray kids 1.5k words gender neutral reader insert Reader x Bang Chan NSFW

🖤 warnings: undernegotiated kink, implied consent, themes of negative body image🖤

🎂 happy bang chan day~

kinktober masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

Truly, these are the dangers of not pre-booking a place to stay.

Last-minute travel isn't usually your thing, but an unexpectedly long weekend means that there's finally time in your favorite guy's backbreaking schedule for a little getaway.

But last-minute travel, with no hotel booked, means love motels.

They're not as creepy as they sound, not usually dirty or weird. Inexpensive, yes, and usually a little older than the resorts and boutiques that most people prefer. They get a bad rap just because of the connotations, but like, people have sex in all kinds of hotels.

You think it's kind of cool, honestly. Homey, in a weird way.

The person at the front desk is a nice older lady, and she doesn't even blink as she asks if the two of you have any plans this weekend.

"Plans outside the room, I mean."

She winks. She's not subtle, but it's sweet.

And now, in the elevator, Chan is looking around in unmasked horror. Taking in the garish burgundy interior, the thinly-veiled adverts for sex workers taped to the walls.

"It's not that bad," you say.

"It'll be fine for two nights," Chan replies, sounding as if he doesn't believe that at all. "Anyway, we're only sleeping here. We'll have stuff to do."

"Oh, come on. We might as well put the place to its intended use."

Chan scoffs, as if the idea of using the sex motel for sex is ridiculous.

"As long as the room's clean, that's all I care about," you continue. "It's a hotel. Whatever."

"Whatever," Chan agrees tentatively.

He's still lying to himself, but he does relax a little.

When you get to your floor, things are extremely normal. Nondescript hotel decor, the faint smell of carpet cleaning solution and lemon furniture polish. Cleaner than other places you've stayed for far more money, honestly.

The room itself is at the end of the hall, which you like, for the privacy, even though there are only five or six rooms on the floor.

You let yourself into the room, and it's as clean and fresh as the rest of the hall. Again, about as good as it gets in terms of a cheap hotel.

"See?" you say.

Chan looks at you, clearly unimpressed.

"What? It's clean. I'll check for bedbugs, but other than that..."

He points upward.

There is a giant mirror stuck to the ceiling above the bed, but nowhere is perfect.

"Even that's clean," you joke.

The surface of the glass is spotless, no fingerprints and not even any dust that you can see from down here. Chan still looks unhappy. Cleanliness is obviously not his concern.

"Don't be a downer," you say.

"Why do people like that?" he grumbles.

You've set your bag down on the armchair in the corner of the room, rifling through it for your toiletries to set out in the bathroom, but you humor him without looking. "Like what?"

"The mirrors."

"In the room?" you glance at him. "Isn't that, like, the sex motel cliche? The heart shaped bed, the red lights, the mirrors?"

This room only has one of the above. Pretty tame.

"It just means you have to - I mean, you can already see your partner, why would you need-"

"You're really thinking about this," you interrupt.

He is. He really is, standing beside the bed and staring up at his own reflection pensively.

"It's so you can see yourself," you add, walking past with your armload of cosmetics.

From in the bathroom, you hear his answer, still pouty.

"Why would I wanna do that?"

Oh, here we go.

"Some people get off on it," you say.

He scoffs a laugh, humorless. You're being generous by not calling him out, here, because he's being self-deprecating. You hate that.

"I'm gonna terrify myself in the middle of the night," he says.

That might be true. He's a little bit of a scaredy-cat. But that's beside the point.

"That's not your actual problem, though," you reply, as you come back into the room proper.

He shrugs.

"Haven't you ever been curious?" you ask.

"About what I look like?" he shoots back, glancing back up at the mirror. "Done. Wow."

"I mean during."

Immediately, like flipping a switch, his ears flame pink. "Not really."

"No? Never?"

He looks at you pointedly. He knows what you're doing. You're not subtle, so that's fine.

"We should find out," you say, grinning.

It's a challenge, now.

Your gorgeous, gorgeous boy hates how he looks. That's common knowledge for anyone who's tried to get him to take a photo together, or shop for clothes, or compliment him on a new haircut. Most of your mutual friends just ignore it. But sometimes you just can't stand it.

He would never be the type to want to see himself in the mirror in the throes of passion, uninhibited. Which is exactly why he needs to give it a try.

"How easy do you think I am?" he accuses, correctly.

"I dunno." Instead of bothering him more, you flop down onto the bed yourself, feet still on the floor, staring up at your reflection. "You tell me."

The bait is laid, and like always, his insatiable ass can't help it. You two haven't had proper alone time in what feels like forever. He nudges between your knees, standing over you as you lay there on your back. You already like the look of the scene in the mirror, the way that his reflected form looms, the way it makes you look small.

"You know," Chan says, "We could put this place to its intended use."

You grin at your own words recycled. Great minds and all that.

"What an idea."

"Just an idea," he assures you.

He drops onto his knees, nudging you up the mattress to make room for himself.

You almost lose track of your own plan, once he kisses you. Hands roam, clothes are lost, the ease and comfort of something you've done so many times. For a while, it's just an encounter like all the others. His hands that know you, his warmth and presence and attention.

And then you remember, suddenly, once you're nude and he is too, and he's asking you how you want it.

"You on your back," you say, trying not to smile at your own ingeniousness and reveal the plan.

"You got it, baby."

He flips over, and he's settled fully into the pillows with you halfway onto his lap before he looks up. He looks up at the ceiling, and he realizes.

"Wait-"

"Gotcha," you smirk, settling fully on top of him.

He could very easily just knock you over and change things up, or he could ask you to stop, and of course, you would. But he doesn't. He just flushes, red again down his ears, his neck, and he covers his face with his hands.

"That's not gonna work," you say, peeling his fingers away from his eyes.

"I can't believe you tricked me," he says pitifully.

"I did no such thing," you reply. "But now that we're here, why don't we play a game?"

"Something tells me I won't like this game."

"Here's the rules," you say.

You pause long enough to rise onto your knees, to seek out his length - desperately hard, revealing that you haven't freaked him out too badly - and line him up.

"I'm gonna make us feel good. And you...have to look."

Chan pouts, putting his full lips to good use. "I'd rather look at you. Don't you want me to look at you?"

He punctuates it by running his hands up your back, hips to shoulder blades, soothing attention from gentle fingertips.

"I think you should look at yourself," you tell him.

"But-"

"Actually, no. I think you have to look at yourself," you decide.

He peeks upward. His flush deepens.

You're not sure why he doesn't like what he sees. From where you are, it's stunning. His slim body lines, the sharp cut of his face and his dark eyes against the bleached-white hotel sheets. Distractibly, biteably pink and embarrassed.

"If you don't look at yourself," you add, dropping your hips just enough so that he can feel you, "I'll stop."

He looks overdramatically betrayed, like a dog when you take their toy away to throw it. It's cute enough that you reach down to squeeze his face in your hand.

"That's the game," you say.

"Fine."

His voice is an embarrassed squeak, but that's consent, baby. You trust him enough to know that although he hates losing, he's not going to yes you to death if things are actually feeling uncool.

Permission granted, and his eyes dutifully trained on the ceiling, you ease yourself down onto his waiting length.

Curiously, once you're seated and he's swearing through his teeth, you tilt your head up to look at yourself, too. The angle isn't as good to see you, but you've got the gist of it. Your spread thighs, your arched back, the little bit of motion as you grind on top of him.

Nice.

"Don't we look good?" you ask, sweet as can be.

He nods against the pillow. "You look-"

"Not me," you tut. "You're not supposed to be looking at me."

Chan swears. You wait.

"I...I look..."

After a second, he swallows, and squeezes his eyes shut.

Pity.

You pull back up onto your knees. His wet cock slips free.

"I told you the rules. Keep looking at you."

[theroguescientist]

Polish scientist watches Orb: Episode 9

This was such an emotional episode! And some good character development too.

The Count comes to terms with the idea that he could be wrong - and that it doesn't mean his effort was wasted. As he dies, he's just glad to be closer to the truth than he was when he began his reserach.

"I was certain that God would choose only one person to reach the truth" That is so not how it usually works. I do understand the appeal of thinking like this, but it's not. It's never one person starting from nothing and figuring out everything. (And this show has already made it clear that it understands this. I like that.)

"Perfecting the cosmos is beyond me" It's beyond anyone. And yet, here we are.

It's pretty funny to me (Even though I think it might actually be historically accurate? That only makes it funnier) how scholars in this world seem to treat the Bible and Aristotle as equally important. Like, imagine you live in a world where everything in the Bible is taken literally and very very seriously, or else. And you're like "Ah, yes. The two sources of unquestionable truths: God and… some guy in pre-christian Greece." If the dead can feel anything, Aristotle had better feel honored.

The Professor fearing that his model of the universe was fundamentally wrong. And Piast reassuring him that it's not and that all this work wasn't wasted. And it wasn't. But not because he's right. Being wrong is a very important part of learning.

And on his deathbed the Professor understands: he doesn't want to be right nearly as much as he wants to know the truth. A true scientist.

(In the modern world scholars sometimes talk about Einstein being "wrong" about quantum physics. He kind of was. But the questions he asked were important, even if the answer turned out to be "nope".* If nobody asked these questions, we might not have bothered to look for an answer until much later. Conjectures that end up being disproved are as much a part of science as the ones that turn out to be true.)

*In fact, a conclusive proof of that "nope" earned some people a Nobel the other year, so you can tell it was an important question.

And then we get to proving the Count wrong.

Damn, dude, you can see the "phases" of Venus, like you do with the moon? With the naked eye? Is my eyesight kinda shit or is that some kind of superpower?

(Actually, I have met one guy who claimed he saw stars in the sky as tiny circles, rather than too small and bright to really see their shape, so maybe it's a thing. If I ever see him again, I need to ask him about this. Because now I'm curious, how much can actually be observed with the naked eye.)

The part where they're waiting for Venus to appear in the sky was so emotional! This means so much to Oczy. It'll be hard to convince anyone he didn't just see what he wanted to see, especially when nobody else can see it. Not that this is what he's worried about. Like the Count - he's afraid of being proven wrong. Except for him the stakes seem higher. It's not just about being right or wrong. Not even about risking his life for something that may or may not be the truth.

To him it's about the nature of the world itself and his - and humanity's - place in it. Heaven and Earth are one - it's a wonderful thought, but what if they aren't? His entire worldview depends on this right now. If he doesn't see it, everything goes back to how it was before - and he doesn't want that anymore!

I think on some level the Count wanted an excuse to not believe what Oczy said he saw. That's why he explained in so much detail about the "final phase" of Venus. Because if Oczy didn't know what Venus would have to look like that night to prove or disprove any theory, he couldn't possibly have lied. If he didn't know (and, conveniently, he's the only one here who didn't know until the count explained it) and just said "It's a full circle. What does it mean?" there couldn't possibly be any doubt. So I think the Count wanted to doubt him.

But it was still clear to everyone that that he's telling the truth. His reaction. The look on his face. Yeah, discovering something new can feel kinda like that, even more so if it's the thing you've been hoping to prove.

Okay, Badeni telling Jolenta that he wants her to keep quiet and stay safe if he gets arrested is a big deal. Just one episode ago he was ready to throw her under the bus and say he's been "deceived" by a "witch". Now he's almost asking her to be his successor if he fails. He's learning! He barely acknowledges that he's got anything left to learn (other that some details of the new model of the universe), but he is learning.

[softquietsteadylove]

Kisses

Thena looked up as a cup of punch was lowered into her periphery. If it were anyone else she would be launching it straight into the trash, but she accepted with a sigh. "Thanks."

Gil took a seat next to her on the sidelines of things. "Is it that bad?"

The allowed herself a little laugh. No, it wasn't. She didn't enjoy school events at the best of times, but Sersi and Makkari wanted to come, and they wanted her to come too.

They were currently on the dance floor, shuffling around with their 'boyfriends' awkwardly.

Thena sighed again, more heavily this time.

"Okay, yeah, I kind of agree with that," Gil chuckled, tugging at the tie he'd worn and then almost immediately loosened. "But it turned out good! Sersi must be happy about that."

"Thrilled," Thena smiled into her plastic cup of some kind of sparkly cranberry juice mix. "The student council has been going back and forth on all the things they had planned, apparently. They couldn't decide how to decorate, if they should hand out flowers, chocolates, let students elect things to do."

"Huh," Gil scratched at his cheek. She wasn't sure if he was aware of it, but he had a little facial hair just starting to come in around his lip and under his chin. "I mean I think everyone always likes something that involves candy the best. I gave some kisses to Minerva--from geography."

Thena looked at him, eyes wild, nothing short of flabbergasted.

Gil didn't seem to catch onto what had her so shocked she had nearly yelped like a cat with its tail stepped on. "She gave me some first. She knows I like chocolate, so that was nice of her, I guess."

Thena's mind caught up with her and she turned around again, blinking to try and calm her frayed nerves. The chocolates--the little candies shaped like dollops of...well, chocolate. That was what he meant. He didn't mean he had kissed the girl.

Thena really, truly thought Minerva had a thing for Gil, but he denied it backwards and forwards every time they brought it up as his friends. He swore she was just a friend, from the only class of his where he was without any of the rest of their group.

"Did anyone give you any?"

She snorted, taking another sip. She was pretty sure there was glitter in this drink (that couldn't have been healthy to consume).

"What?" he laughed, sitting up from his heavy forward slouch. The dishevelled and uneven ends of his tie swayed as he moved. "It's a fair question."

She rolled her eyes. "No, it is not. No one brings the devil flowers, Gilgamesh."

He rolled his eyes at her full-naming him. But he nudged her arm with his ever so gently. "You are not, and I know plenty of guys like you."

"I'm sure I don't want to know," she muttered, setting aside the noxious liquid. They were on the very top of the bleachers, so concealed by the dark there was no risk of anyone tipping it over by accident.

"No, you don't," Gil agreed, and she managed to laugh a little because of it. He leaned back. "Sometimes they ask me about you and I tell them they have to talk to you for themselves. That seems to scare them out of it."

"Good," she muttered as darkly as possible. But Gil was still laughing, and that always made her laugh. Somehow, no matter how dour and snippy her attitude, it never seemed to affect Gil's good humour.

"What about you?" she asked, attempting to be more than a storm cloud hanging over him. "Aside from Minerva, I mean."

"What, like, did anyone give me a card or something?" he asked, seeming just as taken aback by the question as she had been. But he had no sardonic remark, just a charming and honest blush in his cheeks. "Come on, as if."

"Why not?" she probed him, teasingly but gently, because who in the world could razz someone as sweet as Gilgamesh? She scooched closer to him on the polished wood bench. "People like you."

He stayed quiet, fiddling with his undone tie. He looked out to where their friends were awkwardly but earnestly hovering close together. Sersi and Ikaris were the much more awkward couple, new to their romance.

Druig and Makkari were dancing with their foreheads touching and their eyes closed. It was a little much - mortifying - for a school dance, but that never seemed to affect them. They were off in their own little blissful world.

"Isn't it, like, embarrassing?" he murmured, looking away from their friends in the throes of romance. "That--in public?"

"Hm," Thena agreed with him with a faint laugh. She did think it would be mortifying to display such affections amongst their peers, let alone in the confines of a school auditorium. But from what Sersi and Makkari were always going on and on about, this was the height of their hearts' happiness. "I wouldn't know."

"Me neither."

A pause settled over them. Gil fussed with his tie again and Thena brushed something off the skirt of her dress. It fluttered just below her knees. She looked at him.

Gil grumbled as she took the ends of his tie into her own hands. "Hey, I worked hard to get this thing on."

"And for what--five minutes?" she challenged him, undoing it for him properly so he could at least stop pulling at it. "I've never even seen you wear a tie."

And they had known each other much of their lives.

"Sersi told us all to look our best," he shrugged, because of course he had taken that the most to heart--far more than anyone else their age would.

Because if his friend had planned a fancy party and wanted him to dress to the nines for it, Gil would. That was just what he was like.

Thena shook her head with the utmost fondness. Although, now that Gil's top few buttons could come undone, she also sagged in her seat, leaning her elbow on her knee. "I'm trying to discern how long is long enough to show her we made the effort."

Gil flicked his arm up in the air to get his sleeve to expose his watch. "I mean it's been...an hour?"

One hour--was that all?"

"Maybe another half hour will be okay," he suggested with an impish grin. "If she asks if you danced you can always lie and say she was too distracted by Ikaris to notice."

Thena hid her laughter in her palm. The way Gil sang the name so mockingly touched her heart; that was exactly how she felt about that boy, no matter how infatuated with him Sersi was. "Lie to our friends, Gil? I can't believe you would suggest that."

He shrugged completely remorselessly. "That's what I was gonna tell her."

Another pause loomed over them. Thena resisted the urge to fuss with her dress again, instead tucking some hair behind her ear.

"Hey," Gil leaned in closer--close enough to whisper over the music coming from the sub-par sound system. "Ikaris told me he was gonna...y'know..."

She just blinked at him. She didn't know; she had no idea what any of it was like. She shook her head.

Gil scooched even closer to her, until they were pressed right up together, side to side. He was warm, even with his suit on. "He told me he's gonna try to kiss Sersi tonight."

Thena's jaw dropped as if he had told her the scandal of the century.

"Hey, be cool," he whispered to her, nudging her arm again and then moving his bulkier - much thicker - one out of the way and behind them. "If it were Druig or the others I wouldn't say anything, y'know. But I mean...I don't care about keeping Ikaris' secret as much."

Thena did her best to suppress her laughter again. In truth, she didn't think Gil disliked Ikaris as much as she did. He had mostly started making such jokes when she had confessed to him that bringing Ikaris into their friend group for Sersi's sake had not been her favourite change to happen that year.

"I guess they've been going out for-" he dropped off, somewhat counting on his fingers. He looked at her.

"Two months," she confirmed for him dryly. "Sersi brought up to us that she had hoped tonight might be...something."

Gil raised his brows at that, but Sersi's secrets were much more protected by both of them. He nodded.

"I think she'll accept," Thena mused, observing their deeply smitten friend sway side to side with the young man in the navy blue t-shirt and jeans (she had asked them to dress appropriately; he couldn't do that much?). "If he does try to kiss her."

"I guess," Gil also offered passively. "I dunno, I didn't really think they were that serious."

"Unfortunately, I think Sersi is quite serious," Thena lamented, looking down at her lap. The mood lighting of the room swirled around them, and she caught her reflection in the dark of her phone screen. "She thinks she's utterly and completely in love with him."

"Huh."

"Hm."

Gil scratched at his chin again. Thena wondered if he would have to shave it soon or if he was leaving it on purpose. It did make him look somewhat distinguished. "I guess I don't really know the feeling."

Thena turned her phone over so her reflection wouldn't show in the white case she had on it, clasping her hands even over that. "Same."

"Have you ever, uh...y'know?"

She looked at him, wondering about what vagueries he was asking now. But he looked even more sheepish than before, almost guilty. "What?"

"Like," he paused again, looking around. They were at the furthest, darkest corner away from everyone. Their friends probably wouldn't even be able to see them from the ten feet away they were. "Kissed?"

"Have I kissed someone?" she asked, making sure she had the context right. The lights passed over them again and she caught a funny shade of red in Gil's cheeks. So sweet. "No."

"Oh." That was all he had to say?

"You would know if I had," she postulated, which made him shrug his shoulders at a loss.

"I mean, we don't have to tell each other everything-everything," he excused for himself. "I know you haven't gone out with anyone. But - I dunno - maybe you'd....just...whatever."

He let it go, uncomfortably at that. But she had to admit, he had piqued something in her. She looked at him with a brow raised. "Have you?"

"Have I what?"

Now he wanted to be obtuse? She frowned, "kissed someone."

"No."

"No?"

"No!" he protested more, which only made her more suspicious. "When would I have-?!"

Thena shrugged, also feeling defensive about the suddenly tender subject between them. "Like you said, maybe you'd gone and...done it with someone I don't know."

"Like who?!"

"Minerva," she blurted out before she could think better of it. Because when she did think about it, she was the one who brought up Minerva liking Gil more than their other friends. They did bring it up! She just brought it up...more.

Gil huffed, rolling his eyes. "What is with that? Why don't you believe she doesn't like me?"

"I just," Thena fussed with the sleeve fluttering around her arm, agitating her already frazzled state. "You never seem to take it seriously when I do suggest it."

"Well," he also began winding down from their heightened reactions to each other. He looked down at his shiny dress shoes. He really had gone all out. "Even if she did--and I'm not saying she does!"

Thena huffed; point taken.

He shrugged though, the last of the tension in the air oozing out of him. "I dunno--I guess it wouldn't really matter to me."

"No?" Thena had to question (for the last time, she told herself).

"No," he shrugged again, because he never seemed to get wound as tight as she did. Gil didn't hold grudges, or grind his teeth, or snap at people out of reflex. "She's cool, but I don't like her like that."

"Oh," Thena hoped she could leave it at that. A new feeling settled in her gut, and she couldn't really put a name to it.

"Oh!" Gil blinked, some horror coming back to him. "Did you think--'cause of the thing I said?"

Thena took a second to catch up again, only to realise he was implying that she had misread his initial statement about 'kisses', which she had. But she gratefully - and duplicitous as it was - used it as cover for the multiple misunderstandings. "Y-Yes, I thought...maybe-"

"Oh, n-no! No, I, uh-" Gil fussed with himself again, although now that his tie was hanging limply and loosely around the back of his neck he had nothing to focus on. He toyed with the buttons of his shirt instead. "Never kissed anyone."

"Hm." Thena looked forward again, feeling oddly embarrassed about the mix up. She hadn't meant anything by it. Gil could kiss someone if he wanted to. He didn't have to report anything to her, no matter how close they were. She watched Druig and Makkari, still absorbed in each other.

They leaned in close, and although they were still rotating slowly on the spot, it was quite recognisable even from a distance.

"I do wonder what it's like."

Gil looked at her, and Thena realised with abject horror what she had voiced aloud. He just looked at the dance floor again, though. "Yeah, I guess I am kinda curious."

Suddenly the music coming through the old, rented speakers sounded quieter. Or maybe her heart in her own ears sounded louder. She looked down at her hands, clasped together. She was wearing a bracelet. Why was she wearing a bracelet?

Because Makkari had put it on her wrist, claiming the green beads matched her eyes.

She and Gil both caught each other sliding their eyes over. Then they dashed away again. That silence looming over them was so heavy it was basically lying over them like a blanket.

"Have you ever..." Gil paused, clearing his throat as his voice hiccuped a bit. His voice had changed earlier than their other friends. She liked how nice and smooth it sounded. "Thought about it...kissing?"

She had thought about it, but it was either to disdain it or to assure herself that she had no need for such a thing. She hadn't so much considered what it might actually be like. It was an objectively questionable activity, putting two mouths together. What was the fun in that?

She peeked at Gil again. Would the hair on his upper lip tickle?

He took her silence for something it wasn't and physically leaned away from her. "Sorry, I-"

"Maybe."

She wasn't quite sure what made her say it. But she didn't want him to leave; she didn't want him to have taken her hesitation for rejection. Because she didn't know what she was rejecting, but if it was Gil, she didn't want to reject anything.

"Y-Yeah?"

Her awareness narrowed again. Back to the dark, and the lights, and her own heart pounding in her ears. It was all she could hear; surely Gil could hear it too. She gulped. "Have you?"

He stopped trying to get up and leave, at least. Actually, he leaned closer to her again. She could see his eyes were on her and then all of a sudden he was looking not at her eyes, but still at her face. He was looking at her lips. "I think so."

Had he thought about kissing her? Was he thinking about it now or had he thought about it before? Thena looked at his lips too. They were nice lips. Boys tended not to have much in the lip department but she liked that Gil's were shaped like the letter 'M'. Maybe that was too much to notice about his lips.

Gil swallowed, and she could hear it, they were so close. Her hand was on the bench against her leg. Gil's hand was too. He moved closer. His fingers dallied with hers, his other arm hovered behind her back. He wasn't wrapping it around her or anything, but it was quite impossible to be unaware of where Gil put his massive arms.

"Would you wanna....?"

Thena leaned in first. It was short, and not necessarily romantic. She didn't have the right angle, just pressing her lips directly front facing against his. She expected to have her hypothesis proven; that kissing was overrated and two mouths pressed together did not magic make.

But Gil moved. He tilted his head against hers, moved his lips against hers. His hand moved closer--over hers. His finger slipped into the loop of that stupid bracelet to touch the inside of her wrist.

And then her awareness of that went away. She lost all focus on all sensations other than his lips moving against hers. His lips were soft, and his facial hair did tickle a little. And then he would move his lips again and she would move hers because of reflex. And she found herself enjoying the kiss, possibly even yearning for more.

Gil pulled back first, hovering close but far. Their breathing was harder than it was before, intermingling in their close proximity. She could feel his breath hitting her cheek. It brought up the realisation that it was burning hotter than she could ever remember in her whole life. She just hoped it was dark enough that Gil couldn't see.

And she still felt like he could tell how hard her heart was pounding.

"Uh," he started nervously, and very Gilgamesh. He nearly raised a hand to touch his lips but stopped himself. She was horrified to think she had drooled on him or something. But he looked up, grinning at her. "That was...okay--r-right?"

"Hm," she squeaked out, unable to formulate more thought on it at the moment. They were still sitting so close, and he smelled nice, and he gave off so much warmth. "It was...nice."

Even in the dark of the room, his eyes brightened, and she almost flailed to correct herself, in case she was being overzealous about something only she was feeling.

But he was still holding her hand, and he even threaded their fingers together. "I liked it too."

"Hm," she puffed out, having to look away in order to regain some control of her breathing. One hand was still occupied with his, but the other was free to try and help her feel more composed. She tucked some hair back again, resisting the urge to outright fan her overheated skin.

"Well, uh," Gil hesitated, his usual nerves coming through. But he was still the one holding her hand. "Now we...know."

"Yes," she gulped, still feeling more out of sorts than she felt she should. She managed to peek at Gil, and he was touching his fingers gently to his lips again. She really didn't know what he was looking for, or if she wanted him to find it or not. "Now we know."

The silence returned over them, hand holding aside. Gil was trying to think of what to say; she could tell, because he nearly had smoke coming out of his ears from the effort. Not that she was much better.

His finger toyed with one of the beads on the bracelet again. "This is nice."

It had nothing to do with anything. But she took the out. "It's Makkari's."

"It's pretty," he complimented, maybe lamely, but genuinely. Gil didn't say things he didn't mean. "It matches your eyes."

Her heart wasn't going to calm down at all. She worried if it was too much activity for it all at once. But Gil had made the first leap, and she wanted to know what would happen if she made the second.

"Would you want to...?"

Gil looked at her, eagerly hanging on for her to finish her question.

He was going to make her say it; she squirmed. She looked at their friends again, who were mercifully still engrossed in their own romances. Maybe she did understand just a little more what had happened to their brains to make them the way they were now.

She looked at Gil, and it certainly seemed as if all her sound and reasonable thoughts completely left when she looked at his face. Her eyes looked at his lips again, and that was even worse. "We could...try it again."

[lettucesenku]

Yandere Shu Itsuki x Reader (Part 1)

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　*　 . ✦　　　 　˚.　　　　 ⋆. ✩ ˚ ⋆. ˚　 ✦

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　*　 . ✦　　　 　 ˚.　　　　 ⋆. ✩ ˚ ⋆. ˚　 ✦

────── ☁︎♬──────♪☽ ──────

Gender neutral reader, it makes sense for shu to be a bit of a yandere at least in my mind lowkey. This is more war-era shu because gaahhhh I'm such a sucker for prewar valk, I live for the melodramaaa. also this is kinda long srry

────── ♪☽ ────── ☁︎♬ ──────

How possessive he is depends more or less on what exactly it is you're insecure about. He's still possessive as all hell regardless, you're his doll. You belong to him, you're perfect, what more do you need to think about? He just wants to lock you up in his dollhouse and keep you there forever. Unfortunately, humans are a bit too big for that, so a countryside manor will have to do.

A small, Victorian style manor in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by mountains, water and forest. Meticulously furnished, of course, with an astounding garden. It's his little secret, no one knows how or when he had it built, or that it was even built at all, let alone where he got the money for it. Mika found out due to a little snooping (stalking) but otherwise not a soul knows of its existence. Shu's personal little neverland.

Meeting shu was an accident, the first time anyways. You've always enjoyed window-shopping around old thrift stores and antique shops. One day you so happened to be looking around at some old vintage dolls in a local antique mall when you noticed another person enter the section. You stepped away so they could browse without you cramping up the aisle, gaze glued ahead as you walked to a different part of the shop. You didn't even notice the eyes on your back as you maneuvered your way out of the section.

The second time was maybe a month later, in a different shop. You had decided to flip through discs at a secondhand record store to kill some time, it was pretty empty in there. It was quiet, nice. That's one of the things you liked about box shops like this, they were never very busy and had a comfy feel to them.

You heard the little bell chime when the front door opened, but didn't really acknowledge it. As you continued to thumb around at old tapes and records, you passively noticed the tall man in the other corner of the store. He was staring at an old Columbia Gramophone the shop had on display. Couldn't blame him, it was pretty cool, and in nice shape too. The thing about gramophones is that they've got these big metal horns that reflect and amplify soundwaves coming from the record. They also reflect their surroundings though, at least if they're polished and well kept, like a mirror. It was well placed too, in the shop. Nice and high on a shelf in the front right corner, you could see the whole stores layout reflected in that shiny metal music player.

The entire rest of the time you were in that shop the man didn't seem to lift his eyes off the gramophone. While you walked around the store, fingering through cases on the shelves and boxes on the ground, you never once noticed him move from his spot. You kind of forgot the man was there after a minute or two, since it was so quiet.

The third time was a few weeks later at an old secondhand bookstore. You liked these kind of book shops because they usually had little cozy nook where you could read. Not to mention they were so much more affordable than buying books firsthand. You'd found an old copy of one of your favorite classics and decided to sit down and read for a while. How long did "a while" last for? By the time you found a good stopping point the sky was already a different shade of color outside, so maybe a few hours or so? Time flies when you're engrossed in a book I guess. You returned the book to its place on the shelf and left the shop, ready to go home and take a snooze before dinner. Not once did you notice the man 'reading' a few shelf lengths away from you.

The fourth time wasn't at an secondhand shop, but a crepe place. There's a lot of little in-the-wall food shops along streets the closer you get to the city. That sweet tooth of yours was out for blood, and crepes sounded so so good. It was a bit busier than you would have liked it, though. Every table in the shop was full, you had to scout out a table in the back that had just gotten cleared off and snag it before anyone else could sit down. But that just meant it had to be good, right? You ordered a cinnamon-honey-caramel crepe with a hot chocolate to dine in. Ding ding ding! We have a winner! You were in fact correct; it was very very good.

You were a few bites into your crepe when someone approached your little table in the back and asked if they could sit down with you. Without looking up from your food you nodded, you kind of felt guilty hogging a whole table to yourself when the place was clearly hopping. You heard the chair across from you pull out as the stranger sat down. After a minute or two you figured you should acknowledge the person in front of you. The man was tall, even sitting down you figured he had to be around 5'10 or so. He was nicely dressed, too, with a well steamed blouse and an expensive looking watch on his right wrist. There was something familiar in his presence, but you couldn't put your finger on it. Whatever, probably just your imagination. He had a ham and cheese sandwich croissant and a cup of tea.

He offered you a small smile when you glanced at him, forcing you to make eye contact for a second before you shot your gaze back down to your food. Did he just chuckle.? You swear you just heard him breath out a "cute," but when you peaked back up he had the teacup held up to his lips. Shake it off hun, it was probably just one of the couples from a nearby table, Now that you think about it though,, there were a lot of couples in this place.

The rest of your snack time went by in silence, at least from you and your company. The rest of the cafe was noisy as all hell with happy chatter and people. All that sound seemed to fade into the background though, you could feel the man's eyes on you. It wasn't a suffocating feeling, but you could certainly feel your face heating up a bit. It was just steam form the hot chocolate, yeah, that's why your face felt hot. Yeah

Whether it was intentional or not, you picked off the rest of your crepe very slowly, maybe because finishing it meant you'd have to acknowledge the person across from you again. Lucky for you, he decided to make the first move. As he got up from his seat he offered you another small smile, sharing eye contact with you one last time before walking away. You noticed there was a piece of paper folded underneath his empty teacup. You were pretty positive he left it for you, but it still took you a minute to work up the courage for you to actually open it. Inside was a pressed flower, a single vip ticket to a concert, and what looked like a phone number written on the inside flap.

It'd been an hour since you got home, but you were still thinking about the man from the crepe shop. The concert ticket and note sitting on your bedside table, tauntingly. What the hell was that? You had looked up the name on the ticket, "Valkryie" in wine red letters with a little gear on the end. Never hear of them before, then again you'd never really listened to idols. Was this some method of trying to recruit new fans or something? "This person's eating alone in a shop full of people on dates, easy target." Is that what he was thinking? But that wasn't it. There was something else in his eyes when he smiled at you, and that weird sense of familiarity that you couldn't shake. Then there was the pressed flower. You laid on your back in bed, holding the flower above you. How the hell did this guy know what your favorite flower was? There's no way that was a coincidence. Advertising ploy my ass, that flower wasn't even native to where you lived, let alone in season to bloom. You debated texting the number on the paper, raking it over in your head, over and over and over again. Why would a fancy handsome idol want anything to do with you?? You weren't that attractive, at least you didn't think so.

The concert was set for this weekend, maybe you'd go and decide afterwards what to do.

────── ☁︎♬──────♪☽ ──────

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　*　 . ✦　　　 　˚.　　　　 ⋆. ✩ ˚ ⋆. ˚　 ✦