#i am accepting feedback for the chart

[kdsburneraccount]

happy gameday to the falcons if they make the playoffs i will draw penix with more effort 😐👍

fake yuri (nba genderbend) under the cut 🧍

[beargyu313]

Heal my desire ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

This fic was heavily inspired by Riki’s mars placement (his whole tropical natal chart really)

⭑.ᐟ╰┈➤ Interpretation: He’s slow to act, but once he's sure, incredibly persistent, masterlist

˚.🎀༘⋆ Summary: Your younger brother Sunoo starts attending the same university as you. Along with him comes his childhood best friend Niki. Sparks begin flying between you two. Will you be able to keep your desire in check, or will it consume you instead?

ྀ. 𐙚 ̊ Word count: 12.7k

⋆˚࿔ Tags: fluff, slowburn-ish, eventual smut, brother’s best friend trope, older OC – younger Ni-ki,, smut tags: p in v, fem overstimulation, crying, ass eater Niki (he’s freaky), sexting, phone sex, slight praise kink, spanking, biting, chocking, obsessive sex, fem body worship

⋆˙♪ Playlist: emotional oranges – The Juice: vol. II (something about emotional oranges reminds me SO much of Riki)

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ A/N: first time I’ve written something of this length and emotional depth, feedback is appreciated<3 also planning a sunghoon fic next and I am open to hearing your reqs (it will most likely be an enemies to lovers)

You wouldn’t say going to university was the best thing that has happened to you – although it kind of was. As the oldest in your family, you never got to experience anything just for yourself, was never allowed to go anywhere without Sunoo tagging along.

It never really bothered you, at least until you came to uni. That was when you realized probably for the first time how freeing not looking after somebody actually was. For the first time in your life, you were allowed to put yourself first, not having to worry about anyone else. And it felt good.

You even got lucky with housing – getting an apartment close by your campus. You had your own bedroom and for the first two years a roommate as well. But since they graduated late, you were left with an empty room as the first semester started.

And in a way it was perfect. Because Sunoo got accepted into the same university as you, and since you didn’t currently have a roommate, it was simply assumed he would come to live with you.

You loved your younger brother, really you did. But somehow you couldn’t help but lowkey dislike the idea of him living with you. As soon as the thought hit you, you felt guilty, selfish. But as the day of his arrival grew closer, the feeling of resentment grew.

You couldn’t help it, even though you tried rationalizing with yourself – you lived with him before and it was okay, he was your brother! But at the same time, you hated how your parents just assumed he would come and live with you. Not even asking how you felt about it. And it brought up some deeply buried childhood feelings of forced passivity, of having to put other people before yourself.

The morning of his arrival was spent cleaning. Suddenly you noticed how much dust was sitting on the window frame, the overloaded kitchen counter and the dishes still in the skin.

It wasn’t like Sunoo would mind it or even notice it, but your mom would absolutely ask about it later on the phone, and you didn’t need another “You should set a good example” guilt trip on top of everything else.

By the time he rang the doorbell you were beyond frazzled. Exhausted. Still, you swallow down your feelings as you open the door. Trying to match Sunoo’s excitement.

“Noona!” he excitedly greets you, returning his hug you momentarily allow the familiar scent to calm you down.

“I missed you,” you honestly tell him. And that’s when you notice a tall figure entering behind Sunoo.

You do a double look as you realize who Sunoo brought with him. Niki walked in after Sunoo.

Very much not the same Niki you remembered.

He stepped through the doorway like he belonged there. His duffle bag slung over one shoulder, expression calm — even a little bored. And for a second, your brain couldn’t quite catch up.

Because it was Niki.

But taller. Leaner. Broader. Hair slightly longer. Clothes hanging off him in a way that made him look effortlessly cool. And suddenly you felt embarrassed for being in sweatpants, in your own home.

He met your eyes and — god help you — smiled. Not the gap-toothed, chipmunk-cheeked grin you remembered from middle school photos and summer sleepovers. This one was... different. A little crooked. Like he knew something you didn’t.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and smooth. “It’s been a while.”

It had. Too long, apparently.

Because somewhere in that space of a few years, Niki had evolved into the kind of guy that made your stomach do weird, panicked flips. And now he was standing in your apartment.

Like it was normal.

Like it was fine.

And it was fine, you remind yourself. Because this was the same Niki you’ve known practically your whole life. Same Niki who spent most of his summers over at your house, playing with Sunoo. Same Niki who would annoy you.

And just because he was hot, and not just hot but exactly your type kind of hot didn’t mean anything.

This was fine.

Forcing the sudden nervousness down, you beg yourself to speak like a normal person.

“Yeah, it has,” comes your stiff reply. But thankfully, Sunoo was great at smoothing over any initial awkwardness.

“You didn’t even clean up for us, huh? Love the hospitality, noona,” Sunoo teases.

“I did clean. Your face is just rude,” you scowl.

“Wow, the welcome committee is on fire today. Good thing I brought snacks. And Niki.”

“I told him not to announce me like I’m a prize he won,” Niki says, shrugging slightly, still looking at you. You gulp as you look away from him.

“Well. You do come with less mess than Sunoo, so… maybe a partial prize,” you speak, trying not to look at the way the black tank top hugged his waist, the low rise of his pants allowing his boxers to peek through.

“Okay, rude. You missed me,” Sunoo jabs back, used to your teasing.

“You were gone for three months, not three years,” you joke, even though you really did miss him.

“Nice place. Feels like you,” Niki steps past Sunoo, glancing around.

“…That’s either an insult or a compliment, and I’m too tired to ask.”

“Definitely a compliment,” he replies, the sincere tone making you momentarily pause.

“She’s blushing. Look at that. Niki, you broke her,” Sunoo laughs lightly, his eyes crinkling in what-would-be cute way if he wasn’t actively trying to annoy you.

“Shut up. Both of you,” you say, flustered. Leaving towards the kitchen.  

“Come on, I’m starving. Didn’t you say you’d make that pasta you used to do?” Sunoo asks as he follows behind you.

“I said no such thing.”

“You did cook, though. Smells good,” Niki comments.

“…It’s literally just pasta,” you say, hating the way he was making you feel. The overflow of compliments. His intense gaze. The way he looked so at home in your place.

“Still. I missed it.”

You try to brush off the flustered feeling his reply gives you. Cursing inwardly at his smoothness.

“You’re just trying to get on my good side,” you reply, desperate to stop this conversation.

“Am I succeeding?” Niki asks as he smiles down at you. That boyish smile, the kind that makes you shy.

“…You’re obnoxious,” you say as you lightly push him away. A small smile on your face.

“Okay, stop flirting, I’m begging. I can’t live with this already,” Sunoo interjects, and you can’t tell if he’s serious or just joking around. Because this was not happening with Niki. You wouldn’t allow it. And you doubt Sunoo would be this chill if he knew what was going through your head.

“You haven’t even unpacked yet and I already regret this,” sighing as you reveal your true feelings.

“Too late. You opened the door,” Niki smirks, and you’re reminded of the way you three used to joke around.  

“That’s not legally binding, you know,” you bite back with a smile.

“Pretty sure it is,” Niki says, wolfishly smiling down at you.

“So, pasta!” Sunoo interrupts.

And that’s how your first day with Sunoo as your roommate goes. Him and Niki spend the whole day in your apartment, asking you about anything and everything related to uni life. Which courses to take, which ones to avoid. About the extracurricular activities, the student-run café, even the annoying guy in the library who never returns his books on time.

Talking to both of them together was easy—too easy, actually. It reminded you of late summers and sleepovers and childhood in general, a time when everything felt both chaotic and safe.

For a moment, you even let your guard down, let yourself laugh like none of this bothered you. Like it didn’t throw your carefully built world off its axis to see Niki in your space, grown up and... confusing. You were sure that whatever weird feelings he brought up in you, was just because you hadn’t seen him for a long time, and the feeling would fade with time. It’s normal to be surprised when you see someone after a long time and they’ve grown up you convince yourself.

When they finally left to run errands and get their campus IDs sorted, you found yourself sitting in the quiet afterward, not quite sure what to do with yourself. There was pasta on the stove and two extra mugs in the sink. And a weird, fluttery feeling in your chest you pretended not to notice.

Later on in the evening when it’s just you and Sunoo, he brings Niki up.

“So. Be honest. Were you surprised?”

“About what?” you ask, genuinely not knowing what he’s alluding to.

Sunoo motions around as if it was the most obvious thing “Niki. I saw your face when he walked in. You looked like you’d seen a ghost. A tall, hot ghost.”

“I did not—shut up,” you lightly laugh as you deny.

But Sunoo’s quick wit catches on, “You’re not denying the ‘hot’ part, though.”

“Do you want me to poison your dinner next time or just salt it within an inch of its life?”

 “Knew you missed me,” Sunoo grins. He tosses the dishtowel onto the rack, clearly pleased with himself. You roll your eyes but your lips twitch.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

The next time you see Niki, you aren’t expecting it.

It was your senior-year elective—an advanced movement and performance theory class that counted as a hybrid arts credit. You'd signed up partly for fun, partly because the professor was lenient, and mostly because you thought it would have nothing to do with anyone in your major.

Which is why your brain short-circuited a little when you walked in and saw Niki. Already sitting. Already acting like he belonged there.

“You're in this class?” you ask, as you walk up to him, clutching your bookbag to your chest.

“Yeah. You said this professor was easy,” he shrugs, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I didn’t say that to you,” you say, as you take a seat next to him.

Niki shrugs, “Sunoo has a big mouth.”

“I thought you were undeclared,” you reply after a beat of silence.

“I am. But I needed an elective. And I like movement.”

“Since when?” your eyes narrow, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

“Since always. You just never noticed,” says Niki softly, his eyes focused ahead of him. And if you didn’t know any better you would think he was uncomfortable by your questioning.

The classrooms buzz dies down as the professor steps to the podium. Mr. Park was probably in his late 30’s, at the latest in his mid 40’s. And the reason you like him was because he was very laid back, you also heard from your friends he never failed anyone and always had the same exam questions every year. Exactly the type of easy course you needed.

“Okay everyone, for the semester project you’ll be working in pairs. It’ll be a fusion-based piece—contemporary with any personal style you bring. We’ll workshop it every week. Final showcase is in December. Questions?” His voice booms, before murmurs start.

Oh no, it seems he changed his course this year. Just your luck.

You sense Niki leaning in and stubbornly refuse to look at him.

“You gonna ask or am I?” he quietly asks, his voice sounding even deeper once he’s this close to you.

“What?” you play dumb.

“You’re the only person I know here. And I’m not about to dance with some dude named Brett who wore tap shoes to a contemporary class.”

You side eye Niki, then glance at Brett quickly. You stifle your laugh when you notice his attire. Tap shoes and tights, seems someone was taking this class seriously.

You giggle as you look back at Niki, “Fine.”

“Knew you'd come around,” he smugly tells you. His face close enough that you can make out the moles o his face. And you know you’re fucked when your heart rate speeds up.

After the class ends you find yourself in the on-campus coffee shop. Sitting by the window as you passively scroll through your phone. Opening a text thread with your friend, you start typing.

you [7:04 PM] you will not believe who’s in my elective

bestie [7:04 PM] 👁️👄👁️ spill

you [7:05 PM] niki. as in sunoo’s childhood best friend niki as in awkward middle school sleepovers and cheetos w chopsticks niki as in... is hot now niki like. distressingly hot

bestie [7:06 PM] WAIT ??? TALL NIKI? LONG LEGS NIKI ?? I thought he vanished after that bowl cut era ???

you [7:06 PM] he did and then he reappeared like a final boss

bestie [7:06 PM] LMAOOO STOP wait how hot. scale of 1 to id ruin my life for him

you [7:07 PM] im already halfway to ruined he smelled like... clean laundry and sin also we’re dance partners now. for the entire semester 🙂🔫

bestie [7:08 PM] you’re done for. you’re LIVING THE YN LIFE

you [7:08 PM] no bc if sunoo finds out my soul will exit my body

bestie [7:09 PM] sunoo doesn’t need to know unless you two are messing around 👀

Your stomach swoops as you read the last message. Flustered you send the last messages as you get ready to head home.

you [7:09 PM] BLOCKED REPORTED IM GOING HOME

You return back to your apartment, the front door softly clicking shut behind you. Sunoo texted you he’ll be home later, some orientation thingy keeping him preoccupied. The apartment is bathed in the orange hues of the sunset and you savor in the stillness and peace.

You sink into the couch, the memory of Niki creeping unwantedly in your mind. You couldn’t stop thinking about him, about his pretty smile, about his deep voice – seriously his voice used to be so high pitched, this new version of Niki was giving you a whiplash.

Still. I missed it

Your mind drifts back to your conversation, but before you could fully spiral, you pick up the remote to numb your mind with some stupid TV show. Forcing yourself to think away any thoughts of tall boys who smell nice.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

You’re already stretching when Niki walks into the dance studio practice room. His white hoodie sleeves pushed up, black hair still slightly damp from a quick shower. He tosses his bag down with practiced ease, giving you a nod and a small grin that makes your stomach do an unhelpful flip.

Niki slicks the hair out of his face, in a casual manner addressing you as he puts a snapback hat on.

"You came early. Planning to show me up?"

You smile at him as you watch him start stretching in front of you. His hoodie rising dangerously when he stretches his arms above his head.

"Somebody’s gotta carry this partnership."

 "Bold of you to assume it's not me," Niki smirks, watching you through the mirror.

You raise an eyebrow, but he just shrugs, dropping into a low stretch like he’s been doing this forever. You try not to stare, but he’s focused, surprisingly flexible. It’s hard not to notice how graceful his movements are. Like he knows exactly how much attention he’s drawing—and doesn’t care.

And that’s the part that gets you. His effortless nonchalance, it makes you feel as if he’s only halfway present with you, your mind wandering to dangerous thoughts of how you could make him fully focus on you.

The professor sent demo videos last night. You’d both agreed on All That Matters—partly because of the flowy R&B tempo, partly because neither of you wanted anything too theatrical.

You click play on the speaker, and Niki stands, holding a hand out toward you.

"Ready to stop pretending we don’t have chemistry?" he asks, his eyebrows slightly raised in an attractive manner.

You scoff, "Ready to focus, maybe," but let him pull you up anyway. His touch electrifying.

The first moves are slow — light footwork and mirrored movements. Easy to get through without contact. But then the bridge hits, and the choreography shifts.

He steps into your space without hesitation. A hand on your waist to turn you. You freeze, barely a second, but it’s enough for Niki to notice the shift. Quizzically looking at you in question.

"Sorry. Just… tired," you unconvincingly say, a slight shiver running down your spine where Niki’s hand rests.

He doesn’t push, but his hand lingers a moment too long. His intense gaze piercing right through you. As if he doesn’t believe you – but he doesn’t push it.

You move through the sequence again. This time, your hands brush. His palm slides against your lower back. You react less, but goosebumps appear on your arms. He notices that, too. And thankfully doesn’t comment on it.

You try to ration – you’re only being like this because you haven’t gotten laid in a long time. Definitely not because you find Niki insanely attractive.

When you pause to get water, you catch yourself watching him — really watching — the way his jaw clenches when he counts under his breath, the way his shirt rides up slightly when he stretches.

You look away fast. Hope he doesn’t notice.

But he does. Because unbeknownst to you he always noticed everything about you. Has been noticing, ever since you were kids. But he never made any moves on you, you never seemed interested before. Which worked, because he didn’t want to ruin his friendship with Sunoo by fucking things up with you.

It did make him wonder what changed for you, or was he only imagining things in his head. That’s why he doesn’t call you out, only walking past you with a quiet "Same time next week?"

"Yeah" you nod, your voice coming out more breathless and softer than you intend.

He gives you one last unreadable look. Then leaves.

And your brain won’t stop replaying the exact placement of his hand on your waist.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

On the weekend you are cooped up in your apartment with Sunoo and Niki. The later coming over with the intention of just hanging out with Sunoo. But once the evening sneaks up and he still isn’t ready to leave he finds himself in front of your shut bedroom door.

He ponders for a moment before softly knocking.

“Come in,” comes your muffled voice, and he opens the door. He doesn’t know what he expected your room to look like but somehow it’s very much you. A neatly made bed in the corner, white dresser and your desk. Where you were sitting right now.

You had little trinkets all over your room, a few plants on the window still. It made Niki feel cozy and warm, everything reminded him of you.

“Hey,” he greets, scratching his neck as he’s suddenly unsure of himself.

“Thought we could get an early start on our theoretical part of the project?” he asks you and that’s how you find yourself on the floor, knees brushing with Niki’s as you two do research on your laptop.

Niki’s quiet presence lulls you into a comfortable silence as you two work, his voice breaking you out of your concentration.  

“Still mad I showed up with Sunoo?” he softly asks, his voice hiding a certain tenderness, vulnerability.

“I was never mad. Just… surprised,” you tell him, your gaze still focused on your laptop screen.

He hums, “Sunoo said you weren’t thrilled. That you liked having the place to yourself.”

“It’s not that I don’t want him here. I just... finally got used to things being mine. My time. My space. It’s stupid,” you sigh.

“It’s not stupid.” A beat passes before he speaks again, “You’ve always looked out for him. For everyone, really.”

“Yeah. That’s kind of the problem,” you say, trying to joke but your voice sounding too somber even to your own ears.

You don’t know what you expected from Niki. You thought he’d be fun, maybe a little cocky. You didn’t expect… this. Didn’t expect him to look at you like he actually wants to know you. To listen. And most surprisingly, like he actually understood you.

A long silence stretches between you two, both deeply in your thoughts, before Niki breaks it again.

“…For what it’s worth, I’m not trying to mess that up. I can keep out of your way,” Niki tells you.

“…You don’t have to,” you softly tell him, finally meeting his eyes. And something in your chest tugs—painfully tender.

He really meant that. He’d leave if you asked.

He holds your gaze for a second longer, something unreadable in his expression. Then, slowly, he nods.

You look away first. Of course you do. Your throat’s too tight.

You both go back to your screens, pretending to work again. But something has shifted between you two.

A few minutes pass. And this time you’re the one who breaks the stretching silence.

“You’re not supposed to be this tolerable, you know.”

He huffs a laugh, “I get that a lot.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

In weeks that follow you and Niki fall into a routine. Joint dance practices between just the two of you every Thursday, and your dance class with everyone on Tuesdays.

It is a Tuesday currently, meaning the whole class is in session. Instead of a lecture hall you’re all in a dance studio today, your professor wanting to see how everyone is progressing.  

Class is coming to an end and you’re picking up your water bottle from the side of the room when you spot him.

Niki is standing near the mirrors, still in his dance clothes, grinning at something a classmate next to him says, Eunchae you think. She’s twirling a strand of hair around her finger, clearly enjoying the conversation.

He says something back—low and easy—and she laughs, a little too loud. He doesn’t even flinch. Just leans a little closer, one hand tucked into his hoodie pocket.

You tell yourself it’s nothing, as you unknowingly burn holes into the two of them.

It’s fine.

It’s whatever. It’s normal to be overprotective of Niki – you’ve known him for forever you rationalize.

You scroll through your phone like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world, trying not to look. But your ears are burning. Your face feels hot.

Your friend in this class – Daniela – appears beside you, watching you not-watch them.

“You okay?” she asks, eyebrow raised.

You scoff. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you’re burning a hole in the back of Niki’s head,” she easily replies, glancing to look at him over her shoulder.

You wave her off, voice too breezy. “Please. She’s not even his type.”

Daniela stares. “You know his type?”

“I mean, obviously he goes for girls who—like—giggle like it’s a sport and wear matching yoga sets. He’s literally 19. He probably thinks lip gloss counts as a personality.”

Daniela blinks. “…Girl.”

You frown. “What?”

“You’re jealous,” she deadpans.

“No, I’m not,” you deny suspiciously fast.

“No, you definitely are.”

You scoff again, louder this time. “Okay, can we not? It’s Niki. He’s just—he’s a kid.”

Daniela doesn’t even dignify that with a response. She just gives you the look. The one that says You’re lying and we both know it.

You refuse to meet her eyes.

From across the room, Niki catches your gaze and gives you a little nod—like a casual hey, you good?

You roll your eyes and turn away, heart suddenly racing for no reason you’re willing to admit.

You’re still reeling later in your room. The day exhausted you more than it should. And it was barely 4 p.m. You wanted nothing more than to just lay down and not think or do anything for a little while. At least not until Niki comes over later in the evening, you two having made plans to go over theory together.

Your phone buzzes and you seriously contemplate ignoring the call, but relent once the caller calls you again when you fail to pick up the first time.

Incoming Call: Sunoo 🍊 it reads on the caller ID.

You sigh and answer.

“You better be dying,” you say, exhaustion creeping in your voice.

Sunoo doesn’t seem to notice as he brightly asks (read: expects) you to do him a favor;  “Not dying. Just forgot my charger and my USB. And since you’re the best sister in the world you would bring them over to me?”

You are already starting to stand up, before he even finishes speaking. “Remind me why I’m not charging you rent?”

Sunoo laughs at that, “Because you love me.”

“True,” you softly reply, leaving your apartment and heading all the way over to Sunoo. Just an almost 30 minute walk, no biggie for someone who’s already so tired of this day.

You’re back home, in under an hour. Hair windswept, limbs heavy, stomach sour from scarfing down cafeteria fries while speed-walking half a mile. Not wanting to leave Niki waiting, since you were currently almost running late.

You drop your bag onto the floor, letting out an exaggerated groan as you sink onto the carpet in your living room.

Niki is already seated there and he watches you with that unbothered little tilt to his head.

“Long day?” he asks gently.

You shoot him a look, but it lacks bite. “Understatement of the year.”

He scoots over, making space for your laptop, but doesn’t press. Just gives you space and waits.

You both work in silence for a few moments before you speak again.

“Sometimes I wonder if people only know how to need me,” your voice is quiet. Unraveling.

Niki looks up from his screen. Doesn’t interrupt.

You laugh, bitter. “Sunoo called me earlier because he forgot his charger and USB and somehow that meant I had to drop everything and bring it. Like I’m campus tech support or something.”

A beat passes and then words start pouring out of you. “It’s not just him. It’s everyone. Professors. Classmates. Family. I say yes before I even think about it. And then I hate myself for feeling resentful after,” you don’t realize you’re shaking a little until you feel Niki’s gaze on you. Grounding you back into this moment with him, where it’s just you two.

Then he says, calm as always “You’re allowed to want space.”

You blink. The words are so simple they shouldn’t make your chest ache the way they do. But they land like a soft punch.

“You always take care of everyone. I don’t think anyone’s ever asked if you needed it too,” Niki continues and you wonder when he became so …wise, so observant of you.

Silence. The kind that’s full, not empty.

You don’t cry. But you do go still. Like something inside you just… let go.

When you finally meet his eyes, he’s already looking at you. Like he’s been looking this whole time.

“…Thanks,” you say, barely audible. “For seeing that. For not making me explain it.”

He just gives a quiet little nod. No smile. Just that same steady presence. Like he’s saying I’ve got you. Even if you don’t ask.

Your knee brushes his. And Niki wraps an arm around your shoulder pulling you close to him. You don’t flinch away this time – instead allowing yourself to soak in this moment.

It is only after you’ve let out a long exhale that you pull away.

“We should get back to this,” you say and miss the look Niki shoots in your direction.

You don’t allow yourself to dwell on this moment. No, instead you drown yourself in school work in the following days.

You're walking across campus with Daniela. The air smells like warm pavement and coffee—students are sprawled on lawns, music drifting from a Bluetooth speaker somewhere nearby.

You clutch your iced drink a little tighter as you talk, like that’ll cool the heat pooling low in your stomach from thoughts you’re not supposed to be having.

Daniela nudges you gently with her elbow. “So… what’s going on with you and your brother’s hot friend?”

You snort. “Nothing’s going on.”

She gives you a look.

You take a long sip, buying yourself a second. “I mean, even if I liked him—which I don’t—I wouldn’t do anything. He’s younger. And Sunoo’s best friend.”

Daniela slows her steps. “That’s your reason?”

“It would just… complicate things,” you say, waving your hand like you’re brushing it off. “He’s literally nineteen, Dani.”

“What, and you’ve suddenly become eighty?”

You roll your eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Daniela looks at you for a beat, the kind of look that says okay, but you’re lying to yourself and I’m letting you. “Whatever you say.”

You don’t see him—Niki, standing behind the open glass door of the student lounge just off the path. He was on his way out. Until he heard your voice.

He doesn’t move. Just stands there, frozen.

The words Even if I liked him—which I don’t keep echoing in his ears. Over and over.

He doesn’t say anything.

He just leaves.

And you… never even knew he was there. You and Daniela reach the classroom taking a seat just before the professor arrives.

You’re confused as you look for Niki, he was never late. And yet, he steps through the door 20 minutes later and you move your stuff from the seat you were saving for him. Flabbergasted you watch him as he straight up ignores you, sitting somewhere else instead.

Weird. He always sat with you, but maybe he just didn’t see you…

The lesson was probably the most boring one so far, with you being used to talking through them with Niki. But now as you sit by yourself you find yourself staring at him.

He returns your gaze and there's a flicker of something you can’t read. Something almost guarded. But you’re probably just imagining it, he’s probably just tired or something.

The next day you receive a message from him, saying he can’t come over, because something came up. You don’t push it, but you can’t deny the pang of hurt that shoots through you, doubt setting in.

It doesn’t help when a couple of days later Sunoo mentions in passing, “has Niki’s been weird? You guys good? He hasn’t really talked about the project much.”

And you shrug it off, but you can feel that something is off, that he’s distancing himself from you. So you give him space. To cool off, for whatever it is you might have done.

Until you can’t take it anymore.

It happens when you two meet in the practice room. And Niki’s so obviously acting different. He doesn’t joke. Doesn’t tease. Keeps distance physically.

You don’t look at him when you walk to the center of the room. You don’t have to—you can feel the tension in the space between you already.

The choreo isn’t easy. It’s intimate, breathless, full of weight shifts and skin contact. The kind of dance that demands vulnerability, trust, proximity.

But Niki barely says a word.

He mirrors your movements with precision, his body effortlessly falling into rhythm with yours. He doesn’t look at you—but when his hand finds your waist during a partnered lift, you feel it linger a fraction too long.

His fingers accidentally slip under your shirt when he lifts you up. You shiver. Not from cold, but from how badly you wish you didn’t care.

You’re breathless for reasons that have nothing to do with exertion.

Still, something’s off. You’re off.

You mess up a foot placement during a turn. Miss the beat on a drop. And worst of all—you flinch when he touches you again.

That’s when he finally speaks.

Low voice. Quiet, but firm.

“You always think too much.”

You blink, startled.

He steps a little closer—close enough to feel the heat of his skin, but still not touching you. Not really.

“You dance better when you stop trying to be perfect.”

You meet his eyes for the first time in what feels like days—and he doesn’t look away.

Something in your stomach flips. The version of him you’ve been trying not to miss is right there. Not teasing, not cold—but unreadable, unreachable.

Strong. Steady. Saying things that cut a little too close.

You open your mouth to respond, but he steps back.

And just like that, his walls go up again.

You ask, in a snappier tone than you intend to.

“Did I do something?”

But Niki shrugs.

“No,” he says, not meeting your eyes.

You hate it, hate this, wish he would just go back to the way he was. The lingering touches, sneaking glances at you, making you laugh.

You miss him even if he is right next to you. Somehow it would’ve been better, you bitterly think, if you two fought – not whatever this was, you couldn’t stand it.

You force a small smile, trying again.

“Seriously, though. You’ve been weird since…” you pause, searching his face “…is it because of something I did?”

Niki shrugs again, and you want to scream when he hits you with another “no,” still avoiding your gaze.  

“You sure? Because it kind of feels like I did,” you quietly say.

“It’s nothing. We should focus,” finally meeting your eyes, but his voice sounded flat, devoid of the usual warmth.

You nod, but the air between you two is tense. Silence cracks around the edges every time you try to fill it.

Later – after practice is over and you’re back home – you’re walking from the kitchen to your room, Sunoo’s voice echoes from the kitchen, playful but pointed.

“By the way, Eunchae said you and Niki make a cute team,” he wiggles his eyebrows playfully, “she was definitely fishing if he’s single, just saying.”

You half laugh, but it feels hollow to your own ears.

“Oh yeah? Let her shoot her shot, I guess,” you say it casually — but something tightens in your chest.

You close the door of your bedroom and pull your knees to your chest, sitting on the bed. Your room dim.

Why did it feel like you lost something you never even had?

You don’t know it but Niki is standing in the hallway just outside your apartment door, earphones in but not playing any music.

His face unreadable. Except for the way his jaw is tight. And the way he closes his eyes like he’s trying not to care.

But he can’t get the imagine of the longing in your eyes every time you looked at him. The way your eyes would narrow anytime Eunchae came up to him.

And that’s when it hits him you’re not rejecting him — you’re rejecting the idea of them.  Suddenly the realizations don’t stop.

I make her nervous. She feels something. She’s lying to herself.

Let me remind her what it feels like when I’m close.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

It’s class break and you’remid-convo with Daniela, laughing at something dumb. When you look across the classroom, Niki is standing by the door with Eunchae. He's listening politely, nodding at whatever she's saying—but he's not really with her.

His eyes are already on you.

Not staring. Not smirking. Just... watching. Still. Unapologetic. Like he’s reading a language only you speak.

You blink, unsettled.

He doesn’t look away.

Then, Daniela touches your arm, affectively breaking the moment.

After class ends, you brush past him on your way to the bathroom. It’s a tight hallway. You’re not even sure he’s going to acknowledge you, because he’s been like this—off. Too cool. Too quiet.

But then his hand brushes the small of your back as you pass. Not a tease. Not a game.

A claim.

You freeze for half a second, breath caught. Look over your shoulder— but he's already walking away.

You come out of the bathroom, scrolling through your phone as you wait for Sunoo, arms folded, head buzzing from the tension.

Niki appears beside you, “hey.”

“I didn’t think you’d say hi today,” you mutter, trying not to sound bothered.

He shrugs. “Didn’t think you wanted me to.”

You smile, faint. “You always let people decide that for you?”

He lets out the smallest laugh. “No. Just you.”

Your heart stutters. But you don’t look away.

He pushes off the wall and steps closer—slow, easy. Like he’s giving you time to move if you want to.

You don’t.

“I know what you’ve been telling yourself,” he says, eyes not leaving yours.

“That I’m too close. That it’s messy. That it wouldn’t work.”

You lift your chin slightly. “And?”

“And…” His voice softens, “…you keep looking at me like you want it to.”

You don’t answer right away. You feel it, that shift in the air—how close you both are to crossing whatever line you’ve drawn.

You study him. The way he’s not pushing, not assuming. Just waiting.

Quietly certain.

So you say it, “You think I don’t want this?” Your voice is soft, but sure. Steady.

His expression flickers—just a little.

You take a small breath. “I do.”

Another pause, “I just… I didn’t know if I should.”

He exhales, almost like he’s been holding it in. His hand grazes the back of his neck, a flicker of nervousness showing through.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” you add. And you mean it. “Not with you.”

For a moment, everything’s still. Then he says it—quiet and careful “Then don’t. Just let it happen.”

The corners of your mouth lift, despite yourself.

“Just once?” you ask, teasing lightly—but there’s sincerity in your eyes.

He grins, the first real one today, and it does something to you.

“Start with that,” he says.

You nod. Almost imperceptibly. But he sees it.

That night, your phone buzzes.

 Kii<3 [10:25 PM]

Pick you up Friday?

 You [10:27 PM]

Yeah.

You stare at your screen a beat longer than necessary. The tiny word — yeah — feels too small for what’s unraveling in your chest.

Because now it’s real. This thing between you. Not hypothetical, not flirtation buffered by excuses or safe distance. A real date. With Niki.

You press your phone to your chest and lie back, heart wild beneath your ribs. You’re nervous — obviously — but not in a way that makes you want to pull back. It's the kind of nervous that comes with possibility. The kind that reminds you you're alive. And beneath it, something warmer hums: excitement.

You can’t believe this is happening. That he wants this. That you said yes. That after all the circling and second-guessing, this is where you landed.

It’s terrifying. It’s dizzying. And it’s so much better than anything you ever let yourself hope for.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Friday evening.

You almost cancel.

You open your wardrobe, stare at your reflection, then close it again. Twice. Your hands hover over your phone more than once, thumb twitching toward his contact.

But then you force yourself to pull it together, deciding on a low crop top and a black skirt.

He’s already waiting when you step outside — parked just at the curb, leaning against the passenger side of his car. Streetlight catching on the edges of his hair, hands in the pockets of a jacket you’ve seen him wear a thousand times but never like this.

He straightens the second he sees you. Not obvious, but enough. His gaze trails down, slow — not in a possessive way, but reverent. Like he’s genuinely trying to commit this version of you to memory.

You’re suddenly warm everywhere.

“Hey,” he says, and his voice is too casual for how intensely he’s looking at you.

You arch a brow. “You’re staring.”

He doesn’t flinch. “Yeah. So are you.”

You can’t help the laugh that slips out, nerves tangled in it. “Don’t start already.”

He opens the car door for you, dipping his head close as you slide in. “Can’t help it,” he murmurs, low. “I’ve been waiting to look at you like this.”

Your breath stumbles. You don’t answer—just smile, tucking it into the warmth.

The drive is quiet in the most perfect way. His car smells faintly like him—clean, a little musky, like cedar and laundry and something unmistakably his. A soft R&B playlist drifts through the speakers.

You sneak looks at him when you think he’s not paying attention. His hand on the gearshift. The subtle way his jaw flexes when he focuses on the road. His thumb tapping along to the beat.

He catches you once, glancing over with the ghost of a smile.

“You look really pretty,” he says, almost shy. It’s not the kind of compliment that’s thrown out for effect. It lands warm, soft.

You laugh, nerves bubbling out. “You’re not too bad either.”

He grins. “Had to. Big night.”

By the time you reach the rooftop bar, the sky’s already in a blue-lavender stretch before night truly falls. Warm lights hang overhead, swaying gently. The music’s changed to something jazzy and slow, but it fits—like the world decided to match your pacing.

You’re seated in a quiet corner, the city stretching far beneath. He doesn’t look at the menu before ordering for you—he just knows.

Your drink arrives exactly the way you like it.

And when you ask, teasing, “You just memorize everyone’s drink order?”

He leans in slightly, resting his chin on his hand. “Only yours.”

You’re already laughing, cheeks flushed, the world softening at the edges.

His fingers brush yours. It’s not accidental. It’s intentional. A question he doesn’t ask out loud.

You don’t pull away.

There’s a little silence before you tease, “What, you stalking my habits now?”

“I’m cataloguing the things that make you smile,” he replies without missing a beat.

And you do smile. You try not to, but you do. It bubbles up before you can stop it. And that just makes him grin wider.

“Stop,” you say, hiding behind your cup.

“You’re blushing.”

“I am not.”

“You are.” He leans on his elbow, chin in his hand. “You always do that when you like something but don’t wanna admit it.”

“Now you’re making things up.”

“Now you’re avoiding the fact that you like me.”

You meet his eyes. And for a second, neither of you laughs. It lands deeper than it should. Like the words found a door you didn’t mean to leave cracked open.

You don’t say anything. Not yet. But your silence is a different kind now—not pulling away, just… caught.

And he doesn’t push. He just lets it be, the way he always seems to know how to.

You leave the bar after you two finish your drinks. The warm air inviting you on a walk. The city buzzes around you — soft traffic, neon flickers, the low hum of people living their lives — but you don’t really hear any of it. Not when you’re standing close enough to bump shoulders and not bother stepping away.

He reaches for his phone. “Smile.”

You do. Without thinking.

He takes a picture. You try to grab his phone to see it, laughing, but he slips it back into his jacket.

“Let me see!”

He shakes his head. “Not posting it.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s just for me.”

You go quiet. Something in your stomach flips.

You stop under a streetlamp.

The light catches on his cheekbones, soft gold spilling over his lashes, his mouth, his collarbones peeking through the neck of his sweatshirt. He looks like something out of a dream. Which is annoying, because dreams aren’t supposed to smirk at you like that.

You cross your arms, partly to brace yourself. Partly because your heart won’t chill out.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, trying to sound unaffected.

Niki tilts his head, slow. “Like what?”

“Like you know something I don’t.”

“I do,” he says, easy. “I know how good you look under this light.”

You roll your eyes. But you're smiling now, and he sees it. He always does.

“You’re not slick, Niki.”

“I don’t have to be,” he says, and damn it, that grin should be illegal.

Your chest is tight in a way that’s too much and just right. You step in without realizing, close enough that chest touch. He holds onto your wait. You glance up—and he’s already watching you.

Not in that heavy, intense way he sometimes does. It’s softer now. But still locked in. Like he’s trying not to blink.

“This is weird,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “In a good way. I just… didn’t think this would ever actually happen.”

He leans in just a bit, voice low but warm. “Been thinking about it for weeks.”

“You’re such a simp.”

“Only for you,” he says, and there’s zero hesitation in it.

It knocks the breath right out of you.

He holds your gaze for one long, humming second. You can feel the tension hovering between your mouths like a question waiting to be asked.

“If I kiss you right now,” he says, voice barely above the buzz of the city, “you gonna regret it?”

You shake your head. A little too fast.

“Good.”

And then he leans in.

You don’t even realize you’ve stopped breathing until he closes the last inch between you.

His hand finds your waist. Yours tangle in the front of his hoodie. And then—

He kisses you.

Not soft. Not tentative.

It’s hungry. Like he’s been holding back for weeks and the dam just cracked wide open. His mouth moves over yours like he’s trying to make sense of it, memorize it, own it. And you kiss him back just as fiercely—hands fisting in the fabric at his chest, pulling him closer, chasing the taste of him like it might undo you.

It’s too much. Not enough. Your thoughts dissolve. You don’t know where his breath ends and yours begins. The world’s gone blurry around the edges.

You gasp into his mouth when his fingers slide up, brushing your jaw, anchoring you there like he needs you solid in his hands. Like this isn’t real unless he’s touching you.

He groans—quiet, but guttural—and the sound shoots straight down, between your thighs.

You break apart just long enough to suck in air, both of you breathing like you just ran a mile.

His forehead tips to yours.

“Fuck,” he whispers, voice wrecked and still out of breath. “We have to stop.”

You blink, still tasting him on your lips, dazed. “What?”

He shakes his head, eyes still closed. Like he’s fighting himself. His hands gripping your hips tightly.

“We have to stop. Or I’m not gonna be able to.”

You feel it in your knees. In your stomach. In everywhere.

He pulls back a fraction, gaze finding yours. His hands don’t leave your body, but they don’t wander either. Just… steady. Present. Hot with restraint.

“This isn’t how I want to do this,” he says, low. “Not like this. Not in a rush. You deserve better than that.”

You exhale shakily. He’s right. You hate that he’s right. And you love that he cares enough to be right.

Still, it takes you a second to find your voice.

“So what now?”

His thumb brushes your cheek. “Now I walk you to the car.”

He smiles. Kind of breathless. Kind of wrecked. Like you just rewired something in him.

“And then I go home and try really hard not to think about how good you taste.”

You grin, heart thudding. “You’re not gonna succeed.”

He raises a brow. “Not even a little.”

And this time, when you link your fingers with his, it’s easy. His larger hand engulfing yours. His shoulder keeps bumping into yours as you walk, and by the time you reach his car you’re safely tucked under his arm. Your torso to his side. And for the first time in a long time you feel alive.

You’re still on the buzz as you get ready for bed. Too lazy before to take off your makeup and change out of your clothes. Just as you’re about to head into the bathroom your phone pings and a grin unknowingly stretches over your face.

You bit your lip, trying to contain the quickly awakening tingles between your legs, as you read over Niki’s message. The memory of his lips on yours, his hands all over you replaying through your mind.

Kii<3 [11:12 PM] you still wearing that skirt from tonight?

You [11:13 PM] Yeah,, want a little preview

Kii<3 [11:14 PM] fuck yes don’t keep me waiting

You stand in front of the mirror, twirling as you try to find a pretty angle. You settle on you looking over your shoulder into the mirror, your hip popped in a way that accentuates your butt.

You [11:15 PM] Like it?

You ask after you watch his message bubble appear and disappear.

Kii<3 [11:16 PM] damn you’re unreal

im switching the phone to my left hand

You [11:17 PM] wait till you see what comes next

You giddly type, sitting on your bed – legs straddling the duvet underneath you as you eye one of your decorative pillows.

Kii<3 [11:18 PM] im ready. What’re you doing right now?

You [11:19 PM] sitting on my bed, got a pillow nearby…

Kii<3 [11:20 PM] want you to straddle it

You gulp when you read his text, already adjusting your position as you  listen to his instructions. You can feel your underwear already sticking to you as you shift over the pillow. You gasp as you sit on the pillow, the wetness uncomfortable where it touches your skin.

You [11:21 PM] you’re crazyyy,, want me to take my panties off?

Kii<3 [11:21 PM] fuck yes

Your pussy clenches at his eager response. Imagining him in his own room, dick in his hand. You’re quick to move. Standing up you slide the panties down your legs, throwing them in the corner of your room. You contemplate taking off your skirt when you read the next message.

Kii<3 [11:22 PM]

show me everything, im so hard rn

You [11:23 PM] you like it? Decided to keep the skirt on..

but I don’t mind taking it off for you

You type, the photo you sent taken from an angle above. Your skirt is bunched at your waist, the fluffy pillow under you glaringly obvious. One of your hands is playfully pinching a nipple between your fingers, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. Your eyes are half lidded, cheeks covered in a natural blush.

Kii<3 [11:24 PM] baby you’ve got me losing it over here

You [11:25 PM] Good. That’s exactly the plan

lemme see u too

You send and regret it almost immediately when you see his reply. Niki with his hoodie pulled up, covering his hair. His eyes incredibly dark, barely in the frame. At the center of the photo is his hand, rings covering his fingers. But that’s not where your focus lies.

You stare at his leaking cock. Standing proud as he holds it in his hand, veins visible as the slick of his pre-cum shines on every detail of his cock.

Before you even realize it, you’re moving on your pillow. You’re desperate to reach your release, so much so that you don’t reply to his photo.

Your ringing phone breaks you out of your humping and you momentarily pause your ministrations as you pick up.

“Liked it that much baby?” Niki teases you, his deep voice making your stomach swoop and pussy clench around nothing.

You whine, adjusting the corner of the pillow right under your entrance.

“You have no idea,” you rasp, “I’m gonna finger myself, the pillow isn’t really doing it for me.”

“Figured,” he replies, voice strained and muffled, “next time I’ll be the one doing that.”

“Yeah Niki? Wanted your fingers tonight,” you breathe, trying to keep it down – you didn’t want Sunoo to hear you.

“Fuck princess, I wanted it too, wanted to fuck you in my backseat, not caring who sees us,” Niki eggs you on.

And the image of you and Niki in his backseat. You straddling him and his hands all over you has you reaching your climax.

You moan, louder than you realize, “next time, ‘kay?”

“Next time what, use your words,” Niki gruffs and you hear shuffling in the background.

“Fuck me next time we see each other,” you gasp.

“Please,” you whine into the phone, “fuck fuck fuck, I’m close Niki. Are you close too?”

Your pretty noises make Niki furiously tug on his cock, you hear a small curse and then nothing.

After a beat Niki speaks, his voice breathless “next time, princess. I promise.”

Your phone call ends shortly after but no matter how many more times you make yourself cum that night it’s not enough. It doesn’t satisfy the ache you feel any time you try to stop touching yourself.

Frustrated you force yourself to try and sleep it off. When morning comes you’re a mess. Barely slept.

It’s not until Monday when you see Niki again – one of his family members had their birthday and hence he was absent over the weekend.

You see him before he sees you.

Just for a second—tall, hood up, bag slung low—his gaze flicking through the crowd. The second your eyes meet, something shifts. It’s subtle, but it knocks the breath right out of your lungs.

You thought texting would be enough. It wasn’t. Not even close.

Now here he is, in the middle of a bustling hallway—shoulders tense, mouth parted like he’s about to say something, but you both already know there’s no time. Your next class starts in three minutes, and someone’s already calling your name.

He doesn’t stop walking. Neither do you. But as you pass each other, your hands brush, and your bodies lean in just enough to feel the heat crackle between you.

You barely glance up, but you feel it—his eyes, dragging down the side of your face, to your mouth, to the line of your collar. And for a second you swear he’s about to grab your wrist and pull you somewhere you can’t be seen.

But he doesn’t.

Because right then, someone falls into step beside you, Sunghoon—a guy from class, talking about a group project. You murmur something polite, eyes still locked with Niki’s across the hallway.

You see it hit him. The flash of irritation. The stiff set of his jaw. His pace slows just a fraction, like his body won’t let him leave it alone.

You feel it too—the ache, the itch under your skin that hasn’t gone away since Friday night. Like your body knows it’s his you’re still wanting.

You don’t say a word. You just keep walking.

But you know exactly where this is going.

And so does he.

Just a few minutes before the class ends you pull the phone out of your bag, suppressing a smile as you see a text from Niki.

Kii<3 [1:32 PM] who’s the guy

you [2:39 PM] chill 😭 just sunghoon from my seminar we’re in a group project together

Kii<3 [2:39 PM] and you had to smile at him like that?

You roll your eyes at his dramatics as you write your reply. Holding your phone under the desk so the professor doesn’t see you texting.

you [2:40 PM] you’re ridiculous 😭 it wasn’t even like that also you literally walked past me and didn’t say shit

Kii<3 [2:41 PM] i was one second away from grabbing you right there in the hallway but i didn’t want to start a scandal

You clench your thighs together as your imagination goes wild. You two would definitely be trying it, in the near future.

you [2:41 PM] oh so you do have some self-control color me shocked

Kii<3 [2:42 PM] barely meet me after class we need to talk

you [2:42 PM] “talk”? 👀 should i be scared or excited

Kii<3 [2:43 PM] yes. ill be outside your building don’t make me wait

you [2:44 PM] i wouldn’t dare

Kii<3 is typing... Kii<3 [2:46 PM] better not bc the second we’re alone im making you forget his name

You’re only half surprised when you step out of the class 14 minutes later to see Niki waiting for you. The hallway outside your lecture room buzzes with students, the air heavy with end-of-day chatter and the scrape of sneakers. You step out mid-convo with Sunghoon, who’s animated about some shared group project, gesturing with his hands. You’re smiling, but not really at him.

Then your eyes lock with Niki.

He’s leaning against the wall a few feet away, arms crossed, expression unreadable — until it’s not. His eyes drop to your mouth. Then drag over your legs. His jaw flexes like he’s biting back something unholy.

You slow your steps.

He doesn’t move.

You pass him anyway, because you’re petty, and you like the way his stare burns into your back.

“That guy talks a lot,” Niki leans down to whisper in your ear. His voice low, hand lightly touching your waist. Possessively.

You stop walking. Sunghoon keeps going, oblivious. You turn halfway, just enough to give Niki a look over your shoulder.

“Jealous?” you ask, smirking.

Niki steps fully into your personal space, pulling you into him by your waist, “no.”

His voice drops and the words leaving his mind make you freeze.

“I’m hard.”

You blink. A breath catches in your throat. Your stomach flips so hard it almost knocks the air out of you.

“Here? Really?” you ask, voice airy and breathless.

Niki leans in, grinning against your cheek “do you even realize how you look when you walk out of class like that?”

His fingers ghost over your wrist, featherlight. And goosebumps appear where his touch leaves.

“All I could think about was bending you over one of those desks.”

You don’t even have a witty comeback. Just heat — pooling low in your belly, throbbing between your legs.

“I have fifteen minutes,” you tell him, already so needy for him. 

“That’s adorable. I need hours,” Niki teases you.

He glances toward the doors, then back at you, voice gravel “meet me at yours. I’m not gonna wait another fucking day.”

You don’t attend any of your next classes, instead you leave immediately.

The second your apartment door clicks shut, his mouth is on you. Your bag hits the floor. His hands are under your shirt, your fingers already tugging at his hoodie.

You gasp into his mouth when he lifts you — one hand under your thigh, the other gripping your waist like he needs you closer, deeper, now. He walks you backward until your spine hits the wall and your legs wrap around him automatically.

“Don’t tease,” you pant.

“I’m not in the mood to tease, pretty,” Niki darkly grins at you, his voice doing things to you.

The kiss is frantic. Teeth. Tongue. Groaning into each other’s mouths like you’re trying to crawl inside one another. Your skirt rides up fast, and you let it, let his hands explore every inch like they’re claiming you.

“Take it off. Take all of it off,” you moan against his jaw, kissing down his neck when his hands start pulling on your clothes.

Niki shakes his head a no, “do it for me,” he tells you as he leads you into your bedroom.

Clothes disappear — shirt tugged over his head, buttons popping open, Niki’s hands all over you. He lifts you up as he carries you to your bed, dropping you with a thud and following you down like he’s starving.

The air smells like skin and sweat and him — clean and warm and dizzying.

“You’ve got no idea what you do to me,” Niki says as he hovers over you, his voice thick.

“Show me,” you say as you pull him in.

And he does. Niki kisses down your neck, his big hands on your tits. He’s going lower as he continues kissing you, listening to your gasps and small moans.

Niki pinches your nipple between his fingers, his mouth on your other boob. You moan, back arching off the bed. Your fingers tangle themselves in Niki’s hair as you pull him closer to you.

Your legs wrap around his torso, but Niki is already moving.

“Turn around,” he tells you, unashamedly palming himself through his boxers as his dark eyes drink you in.

You comply, laying on your stomach. Niki grabs you by your hips as he manhandles you on your knees, your front still on the bed.

You gasp when you feel his hands on your ass, gripping and kneading your cheeks.

“Baby please let me taste you,” Niki whines, his hands exploring everywhere from your ass to your inner thighs. He still hasn’t touched your pussy but you’re growing desperate as you push your ass close to his face.

Your mind is fuzzy as Niki traces his fingernails on the inside of your thigh, you shiver moaning before he even touches you where you most need him.

You can feel his breath on your slit, moaning as you push your ass in his face barely able to feel his lips on you.

Niki sees your struggle as he reaches for the pillow, resting it under your hips.

He murmurs against your skin “every inch of you drags me crazy, you know that?”

He lightly bites your ass, slapping it when you whine.

“Niki, need you,” you whine and gasp when you feel his mouth on you. His flattened tongue covers your slit and you push yourself into the warmth.

“oh god yes,” you breathe but pause once his hands grip your ass cheeks apart and he licks a long stripe from your slit, over your hole and stops at your asshole.

Your eyes widen when his tongue traces your puckered hole.

“what are you doing?” you ask as a pleasurable sensation you’ve never experienced before spreads through you.

Your pussy clenches when Niki lowly replies, “trust me,” and continues licking all over you.

“Taste so good,” comes his gruffy voice, he spits on the puckered hole, spreading the saliva with his middle finger.

you’ve never had someone play with your ass and while the sensation was new to you, it was also oddly pleasurable, your pussy pulsating as the pleasure is just enough to keep you at bay. But not enough at the same time.

Niki’s finger traces your hole, his other hand sneaking into your pussy entrance. You can feel yourself throb, the pleasure overwhelming.

Tears fill your eyes as Niki continues licking over your puckered hole, his middle and ring finger fingering your pussy in a hook motion.

You’re a moaning mess as you grip your sheets, legs spread as far as they can comfortably be. Loud licking sounds are covered by your squelching pussy and moans.

“Niki, I’m close,” you breathe, “please please please,” you whine, as tears build in your eyes. Enough to make your eyes glassy and makeup smudged but not enough to spill over on your cheeks.

“I like it when you’re like this,” he tells between licks, his fingers picking a slower and harder rhythm that has you seeing stars, his voice quiet and dark.

“oh my god, don’t stop talking,” you further plead, his voice driving you crazy. 

“Only if you keep telling me how good you’re feeling,” he says as his nails sink into the skin where your butt and thighs meet.

“Feels so good Ki, you’re so good, please, don’t stop, plea-“ you mewl, only to stop breathing as the pleasure almost tips over. Niki feels your pulsating walls, knows you’re about to cum and he pulls back.

You whine, turning around, only to see Niki’s intense gaze on your ass, watching as your butt winks at him.

“You’re so hot baby,” he tells you and it’s enough to have you close again. His eyes travel up your body and you shiver under his gaze.

“Turn around,” he instructs with a light pat on your hip, his eyes not leaving yours.

You comply, laying on your back now and Niki hovers over you. His hand under your jaw as he tries to read your emotions.

“Pretty,” he breathes, “are you gonna cry for me?” he mocks, his lips in a fake pout. He kisses you softly on your lips one hand still holding your chin. His other grips your hair in a pleasurable pull and you moan, relaxing into him fully.

“See that,” Niki asks, buckling his hips into yours. You don’t realize when he took his boxers off but don’t complain once you look down.

His cockhead wet and inviting, dick standing red and proud as Niki ruts his hips into yours.

“You like dragging it out, don’t you? Making me watch while I fall apart for you,” you complain. He just smirks at you as he lines his dick over your pussy. Your lips are hugging him and you hear him curse in a whisper, his voice strained.

“You don’t even know how hot you look under me—fuck,” he shudders, closing his eyes tightly and resting his head on yours. You wrap your arms under his arms pulling him fully on top of you.

But Niki doesn’t let you, “I’m too heavy, don’t wanna hurt you,” he says.

“Then just fuck me already Niki,” you say your lip caught between your teeth.

“Hands above your head. Don’t move. I want to take my time ruining you,” he decides and he watches the way your tits bounce when you move. He lightly slaps one of them and teases his cockhead over your clit.

You’re barely breathing, as the anticipation overtakes you.

“Yes, please Niki just put it in already, I’ll listen to whatever you say, just pleeeease,” you whine.

You both groan once his cockhead pushes past your entrance, your walls are still pulsating and you swear you’re close to cumming and he hasn’t even entered you fully.

Niki seems to be going through the same dilemma, his brows furrowed, eyes closed as he sucks his breath in.

“F-fuck,” he growls, holding onto your hands that are still bent above your head in compliance.

His frame covers yours as he slowly continues bullying his dick into you.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he comments, “keep looking at me so innocently baby and I’ll be busting into you before I even fuck you.”

You whine, pushing your tits up in a silent plead. Your walls wrap around his length so tightly that you swear you can feel him deeper than he even is.

You look down and see only half of him has entered you. Niki pushes further in and you feel so full you can’t focus on anything else.

One of his hands leave yours, trailing down your forearm, to your shoulders and stopping once it wraps around your throat.

“Be good,” he tells you before he pulls out slowly, pushing back in with force.

“So tight,” Niki shudders. You wrap both of your hands over his arm that’s still holding you in place by your throat, gasping in pleasure at the slow and steady, rough pace he set.

Your mouth is open in pleasure, no sound leaving as you watch Niki fucking you. His eyes are everywhere on you, with his free hand he pushes your one of your thighs up and you’re squished.

Feeling so full you close your eyes in pleasure, the new angle has you clutching your toes and no sound escapes your mouth as you drown in pleasure.

Niki sees you and you can feel his dick throb in you, he picks his pace up and it has you seeing stars.

A loud moan slips out, Niki’s hand leaving your neck as he works over your clit. You’re a moaning mess, as Niki plays with you however he pleases.

“Fuck baby, you’re so hot,” he breathes and you feel tears spill down your cheeks as you get lost in pleasure.

His dick is pushing into you, fingers on your clit and you still. Not breathing as your hands claw at his back.

You’re cumming and Niki curses. He sheats his dick inside of you, your tight walls holding him hostage.

Your rigidness forces him to stay inside when his balls twitch. He quietly groans, his voice hoarse as you feel warmth in you.

You’re so overwhelmed by Niki, by the pleasure still hitting you in small waves so you can only lay back and watch Niki as he pulls out.

His cheeks and chest flushed in blush and arms pumped. You watch as his dicks softens, his chest rising in deep breathes.

“Let me ride you Niki,” you ask, his whole demeanor turning you on once again.

“What?” he breathes, letting you push him on the bed and straddle him.

His cum trickles down your thigh once you sit up, but you don’t care, moving to straddle him.

“Just let me,” you tell him, he hisses when you touch his dick but it’s already starting to harden under your fingers.

You pump him once, twice and deem it good enough, hovering over it.

You push it in and listen as Niki whines under you, actually whines. The sound travelling straight to your pussy.

“W-wait, baby wait,” he pleads but you don’t listen. His hands are gripping your hips in a bruising grasp.

“You're so obsessed with me," you moan when his hands travel to your boobs once again. He's squeezing and scratching at them, letting you ride his hard cock.

He's smirking "of course I am. Look at you. You think I could ever stop?"

You pick up the pace, your tits bouncing and Niki slaps your ass, leaning against your headboard as he lets you use him in any way you please.

You grind yourself, holding onto his shoulder and moving into a squatting position as you chase your climax.

"You're not gonna behave, are you?" you mewl once Niki starts pushing his hips into you. He overtakes your pace as he murmurs in your ear, lightly biting on your earlobe.

"Not when you're this close."

And you let him, hugging him as he sets a brutally fast pace, pounding into you roughly.

He manages to bend his legs, pushing himself over you as he forces you on your back once again.

He’s biting onto his lower lip as he fucks you, listening to your moans and gasps.

“Cum for me princess, let me feel you,” he says, squeezing your throat just enough to cut the oxygen off.

You don’t realize you’re drooling and Niki’s hips stutter. You feel him spill in you, and the sensation bringing you over the edge.

You gasp, mewling and clawing at his arm as you cum.

Niki pulls out, catching his breath before leaving to the bathroom. He’s back with a warm rag as he carefully cleans you up.

You hiss when the towel touches your skin, the scratchy surface harsh on your sensitive clit.

You playfully hit Niki once you see he is smiling down at you, “you did that on purpose.”

The sun’s barely up when you pad into the kitchen, hoodie-swaddled and still a little sore. You’re pouring coffee when the front door clicks open behind you.

Sunoo walks in, mid-yawn, backpack slung over one shoulder—and stops dead in his tracks when he sees Niki standing shirtless by the fridge, sleep-tousled, sipping orange juice like he owns the place.

He blinks. Once. Twice.

“Took you long enough.”

You freeze. Niki chokes on his drink.

“Sunoo—”

Sunoo drops his bag with a thud. “For the record, I came home last night and heard... things. So I very kindly turned my ass around and crashed at Heeseung’s.”

You open your mouth. Close it.

“Wait—you’re not mad?”

But your brother just grins, throwing himself onto the couch.

“Do you know how annoying it was watching you two eye-fuck across campus for months? I was this close to locking you in a closet.”

You groan, covering your face. Niki snorts, pink creeping up his neck.

“Please don’t ever say ‘eye-fuck’ again.”

You glance at Sunoo, unsure.

“You’re really not mad?”

He looks at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“Why would I be mad?” He shrugs, grin softening.

“I know Niki. He’ll treat you right.” A pause. “And if he doesn’t—well. I know where he sleeps.”

Niki holds up his hands, grinning.

“Not planning on messing this up, I swear.”

You smile—helpless, smitten.

Because somehow, after everything, this all feels right.

Sunoo flops back dramatically onto the couch.

“Ugh. Gross. I liked it better when you were both repressed.”

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚Bonus scene: final perfomance

Backstage hums with quiet chaos—zippers, footsteps, low murmurs—but you and Niki are in your own world. You're smoothing out the sharp edge of his collar, fingertips brushing the line of his throat. He’s warm, breathing a little too fast, and watching you like it’s a challenge.

“You’re not even touching me properly and I’m already losing focus,” he says, voice low, teasing—like he's half-joking, but mostly not.

You raise an eyebrow, smirking as your hand drifts down to adjust the hem of his jacket. “Guess it’s a good thing I’ll be the one bringing you back to reality later.”

He leans in a fraction—just enough to make your pulse skip. “That sounds like a threat. Or a promise.”

You glance up, meeting his eyes. “Why not both?”

There’s a beat of silence, thick with everything unsaid, and then someone calls his name from stage left.

But he doesn’t move—not right away. Just smiles that slow, dangerous smile like he already knows how tonight ends.

The lights are low in the campus studio, just enough glow to illuminate the stage and the semi-circle of classmates watching from the floor. It’s the last day of the semester, final showcase. Your professor announces your names, and then the beat drops. “All That Matters” by Justin Bieber.

You step out onto the polished floor, heart pounding in time with the bass. Niki’s already there, waiting for you in a fitted black shirt, sleeves rolled, chain low on his collarbone. He looks unfair. Calm. Ravishing.

The music swells. You move.

It’s slow, almost hypnotic — all lingering touches and too-close footwork. His hand brushes your waist. You tilt your chin up. Bodies magnetized, orbiting, crashing.

When you straddle his thigh during the chorus, the entire room holds its breath. His hands settle on your hips like he was born to put them there.

You lock eyes.

And for a second, the world falls away. No classmates, no professor, no judging stares.

Just you and him — synced, electric, starved.

He murmurs just loud enough for you to hear.

“If I get hard during this, it’s your fault.”

You bite back a smirk.

“You’ve been hard since we walked in.”

He grins, dark and unrepentant, guiding you into the final step — a dip so slow and intimate it feels like undressing in public.

The song ends. Silence. Then—

Applause.

Cheers break out, someone even whistles, but you barely hear it. You’re too caught in the aftermath. Niki’s still holding you, one hand splayed across your back.

You whisper, breathless.

“I can’t believe we just did that.”

He leans in, lips brushing your ear.

“Believe it. And later? I’m reenacting every second.”

[richeeduvie]

SHIFTING ✭ DRABBLE

When witnessing you "flirting" with Robby, Jack attempts to cope with the way you, or the feelings he has for you, are changing him.

✭・.・✫ ✭・.・✫ ✭・.・✫ ✭・.・

THE LENGTHS PART ONE

PART ONE DESCRIPTION: Jack meets the new nurse Robbie's been fawning over, only to then take the next couple of nights to pathetically cope with what he's feeling for the peppy, sunny young woman he's just met.

✭・.・✫ ✭・.・✫ ✭・.・✫ ✭・.・

Think of Jack Abbott not being able to help the man he's becoming because of you. There's almost a point where he wants to blame you, but he'd never do that. He could never do that. But there's the problem, as capable and beautiful as you are, he shouldn't think you're perfect. Or innocent. Even in love. Even when he can finally accept the way his bones tense and his blood rushes around you, even when he becomes brave and secure enough in himself to almost feel entitled to the way he thinks and feels about you. He shouldn't look at you with a reverence you'd only reserve for...God. Or Jesus. Either one.

This is not the man he is. Even when he's falling for someone. What exactly are you doing to him?

"You're biting your lip again. That's your "I'm about to yell at Robby through the margins of the chart" face. What is it?"

There's nothing like sound mechanical symphony of beeping monitors and overhead pages to aid in witnessing you flirting with Robby yet fucking again. It would've been a month ago that Jack's annoyance would've been chalked up to the slight unprofessionalism of you two distracting him and other staff, but Jack can...possibly admit it now, he thinks it's flirting, and it's getting to him.

It's just that, even if he likes you, why is it getting to him so fucking badly?

"Excuse me, I never yell at you through the chart. And I am also...just now...communicating feedback."

"...No. You never have. But I'm sure I'll agree with your passive-aggressive, very legible "feedback."

"I've been told my handwriting is perfectly readable and bubbly."

"Much like yourself. I agree."

You laugh, nudging Robby with your elbow. Dr. Robby to you. Always professional in name, even if you're practically turning Jack's best friend into mush.

Jack squeezes the clipboard in his hand when he stops hiding behind the corner. A month ago, even if your peppy conversations with others spread like wildfire over his chest, the guy would've never actually have stopped behind the wall to eavesdrop on said conversation...to collect more material to get pissed at.

He's not the same man he was a month ago, and he's certainly not the guy he used to be before he met you. But he guesses that's the point, every time you meet someone, you'll never be the same person you were the second before they walk through the door.

And every time you catch his eye and offer that blinding, casual smile, Jack has no choice but to think the person he's regressing into is worth it if it means he has you. You. You. You.

Awfully capable and genius and horrifically beautiful.

But still, Jack hates the twitch of his jaw when he realizes that smile you're giving him right now is a shared one. Not completely his. That it would've been if you just stuck to night shifts like he suggested.

"How’s that post-op gallbladder doing in 9?"

You salute him. Robby smiles something at him that's almost an amused disbelief. But why are you amused, brother? You know her so well, you work together in ease as if you've known her more than the four months she's been working in the Pitt.

"Stable. Labs are improving. I already rechecked his hemoglobin, too—holding steady."

"Good. Let me know if his belly gets tense or he spikes again. No heroic discharges."

"Wouldn’t dream of it."

Jack nods. Starts to walk away.

"That’s her way of saying, 'Don’t micromanage me, old man.' Am I on the nose or--”

Jack blinks to the floor when you laugh. He stops mid-stride and turns slightly.

"Stop, you’re gonna get me reassigned to nights."

Just enough to let his eyes linger on his best friend. The closest man he's ever known. One of the best doctors he's ever seen. Jack could hope that if you were another pretty and sickeningly wonderful girl, the grip of his fists would be just as tight as it is now, because the ridiculous hellfire of his pangy-fucky-jealousy wouldn't be the result of you and you alone. It'd be on him.

It'd be on the type of man he becomes when he...when he...

“What was wrong with your night shifts?”

“…Nothin, Dr. Abbott. Just riffing.”

"Well. Glad you two are enjoying yourselves."

...When he falls in love. Fuck him.

But this is not him. The way his voice goes flat and casual is not him, but it's what he says and what he feels because of you and you and you--this sunny little nurse who knows too much for her own good.

There’s a beat. A weird silence. Robby furrows his brow. You straighten instinctively, and Jack almost feels guilty, but that held confidence in his sharp, accusing quip is also who you're making him become. And maybe he'll be sorry for that.

"We are, yeah. Helps the shift go by faster."

"Right. I'll see you."

Jack walks off without another word. Sure. Maybe he'll be sorry for that tonight. Maybe he won't be when he gets home, because he'll be too close to blaming you when he thinks of every time you've smiled at him today, and he wonders--no, he thinks that you have to know.

"Did I miss something?"

"No… I mean, I don’t think so."

And Jack could be sorry when your voice betrays the uncertainty...when it almost sounds...hurt. He can't because he isn't there, but if he were-- if Jack saw how his comments spiked you, maybe he'd actually try to stop himself from the man he's becoming.

But he doesn't. So. He'll act like this all over again tomorrow. He's very proud of himself.

"Did you see her handle that psych hold last night? You know, when I was a kid, I was a huge fan of WWE...for some reason, and that's what it was. He was swinging that chair like he was in WWE and she--"

Jack pauses at the sound of your name.

"She kept her cool. And he was handled like that. I would've cried. Maybe."

"Enough with the goo-goo talk, Mel."

"You would've cried."

Mel says her statement to Santos in a way that isn't unkind, just flat.

"I--no! I would've been the last person to bawl. But...yeah, it's almost resent-able, the way it's like she's made of chamomile tea and ten hits of morphine."

"Um...I don't think, maybe--that resent-able's a word?"

"It’s wild, isn’t it? I know she’s a nurse, but every newbie follows her around like she’s an attending. It’s kinda hot."

"Um. I wouldn't say hot--"

"Work with me, Mel. Please. You're brilliant and no, HR is not right around the corner."

Jack can see Mel smile from where he's standing, as if it's worn with an "Oh, yeah. I can do this."

"Just be careful. I have a mind to think that, possibly, Dr. Robinavitch is already interested in her. Please don't tell anyone that I even think that. I don't--really even think that? It's more so an observation that could totally be misconstrued as--"

"Yeah, well...he probably wouldn't be the only one."

"...Who are we referring to?"

The girls leave with singular laughter, but Jack doesn't move. And again, he'd never linger on a conversation just to make himself...twitch, and get tense.

But here he is, his face calm with a breathing that's steady--but shallow, sharp. He stares at the floor as if trying to reason with himself. It’s nothing. They were joking. It was just talk.

But the words—not the only one—they keep echoing.

Who else? Who else but Robby and everyone fucking else?

His mind flashes to how you laughed with Robby earlier in the day, tossing a roll of gauze at his head. How you snuck a granola bar into Perlah's and Mohan’s scrub pockets, or the way you called Santos "Santi" while you patched her up and got her tested when she got stuck with a needle.

Everyone loves you. Everyone's drawn to you. But before, that would've only been an observation, something to tease you over. Not something to turn make his fist bleed.

He bled for people before, got his leg blown up for them. Killed for them, in a different life. But that was for country, and even though that’s a lie in itself, that made sense. There was purpose he found in that for a moment.

How is his rage and blood and...entitlement over you purpose? Even if he could ever...ever actually love you mutually? How could this all be worth something?

Who else?

"Abbott! What--what happened? What the fuck happened?"

Jack opens his fist. He didn't realize he was dripping onto the floor, that thin line made by the depths of his nails. He blinks at his wound, and barely at Dana.

"Jack, you alright?"

"...I guess it's time for sutures. I didn't mean to--wow. Did not mean to color the floor. Sorry, Dana. I'll call Ahmad, I think he's on tonight."

"...Jack--"

Jack begins to walk away, he can feel their charge nurse follow and fail to.

"Do not clean this up. That's not your job. Hell, it's not Ahmad's. I'll be back with towels."

Is that it? Would it feel any more...worth it if he did have you? Would he be easier on the man he's becoming if he had you? God, hopefully not. Hopefully he'd get his fucking act together, because look. Apparently, it's dangerous. Bloody.

Either way, he'd have to become worthy of having you in the first place, and that's never gonna fucking happen.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The clinic waiting room reflects the silent turmoil of your existence. You sit in the rigid plastic chairs and stare at the wall. Your mouth still tastes of bile. Only minutes ago, you were in the bathroom, spewing up your guts. It’s as if you’re own body is trying to convince you of reality. You don’t need this test, idiot, you’re fucked. 

When your name is called, you follow the dour nurse to a room. She goes over your chart and your reason for coming. She puts the clipboard in the plastic pocket mounted on the door and shuts it behind her as she goes. 

The doctor is thirty minutes behind. She gets you a stick to pee on and takes blood to send to the lab. The first test comes back positive but the second will take longer to process. It doesn’t matter. It’s really just repeating what you don’t want to hear. You are pregnant. 

The detached treatment has you feeling even more dejected. You’re given a stack of literature at the front desk before you go. You toss it in the bin by the building entrance and trod on.  

It isn’t just the child, it’s the father. You know deep down it can’t be your husband’s. It’s been too long since you... did that. As much as you want to lie to yourself, you can’t. All that’s done so far is dig the hole deeper. 

So, you don’t have much of a choice. You can’t afford it. Not financially, physically, or emotionally. An innocent child doesn’t deserve to be dragged into the mess you’ve made. 

First, you need to leave. You already have a plan. You’re packing your bags as soon as you get home. Wendy said you can crash for a while. You’ll have to figure it from her couch. Once you’re settled, you’ll go to another clinic and do what needs to be done. 

It isn’t the baby. Your marriage was already over. It just hurts. It’s not acceptance, it’s giving up. You can’t fix this. You tried so hard and it just didn’t work. The wasted time if worse than the wasted effort. 

A car honks but you barely notice. There's always someone raging in the streets. It comes again, shorter than before, and an engine whirs up to the curb, sliding in between two parked cars. The silver paint glares in your vision. 

“Hey,” the window rolls down, “how’d it go?” 

You stagger and face Steve Rogers as he hooks his elbow over the open window. You shake your head, “Excuse me?” 

“I was right.” He says. It’s just a fact, not smug. Just a statement. 

“Stop. Please. Leave me alone. I told you--” 

“You can’t run away from me.” He clicks free his seat belt and opens his car door. Before he can get out, you’re on the move. He catches up to your easily. “It’s mine.” 

You splay your fingers in frustration and keep walking. Please, just go. “No, I’m married. It’s up to me and my husband.” 

“I know you haven’t been fucking him.” His language has you skidding to a stop. You turn to him, aghast. “I can smell it. For a few days after.” 

“It would be more than a few days ago,” you snap. 

He scoffs, “yeah, it would be.” He stares at you and your heart flips.

“Have you—have you been following me?” 

He doesn’t answer, just looks back at you. He doesn’t need to say it. You know. 

“How long?” You hiss. 

“Look, that night...” he begins. 

“No. That night nothing! It’s over. One night and it’s not going to be the rest of my life. Alright?” 

“I’ll take care of you and the baby. Your husband won’t be happy to know that you and I--” 

“He’s not going to know, Captain.” You snarl. “He can’t know. Alright? This is a mistake but it can be undone. Got it? So go and live your superhero life while I scrape the barrel.” 

“You’re going to leave him anyways so why are you doing this?” He asks. His tone is so fucking annoying. As if it’s all so easy. 

“How do you—oh my god, oh my god. Please, back off.” You put your hands up and take a step back. 

“You can’t just get rid of my baby,” he follows you as you fall back into step. 

“Go.” 

“No, I won’t let you.” 

“I’m begging you--” 

“Just like you did that night. I know you didn’t forget.” He grabs your arm and pulls you around to face him. “You can’t. It was the best night of my life and you just disappeared. I can’t let you go again.” 

“Let go of me,” you wriggle in his grasp. 

“I’m trying to help you. I’m telling you that you don’t need to do all this. I can help with the baby. Please.” 

You stare up at him defiantly and tear away from him, “I don’t need you to save me. That was my first mistake. Thinking that a man could ever do that.” 

You turn and stomp away. He calls your name but you keep going. You can’t look back. You’re terrified. Deep down you know if he doesn’t follow you then, he will find you later. This whole time he’s been playing your shadow and you never even knew it. 

[schtrawberry]

[3] personal astrology observations

[!] this is mostly an introspective view into my chart; in no way, shape, or form am i saying that any of this is fact or set in stone, nor am i saying that i am a professional astrologer. these are just presences that exist within my chart that i've felt manifest themselves in real life. simply put, take what resonates and leave what doesn't :)

— the observation that venus in the 9th house and sagittarius mars natives are far more likely to be attracted to foreigners and/or meet their future partner/s in a foreign country is true!

[nothing, just felt like confirming, esp as someone w both these placements 🤭 like, i honestly am more likely to be approached (in a romantic setting) by a foreigner both in-person and online!]

═ sun square neptune is the aspect of daydreamers. they're always thinking about an idealized version of the future or dwelling on the past. rarely do they ever think in the present. it is often easier for them to drift off into a daze either thinking about what could have been or everything that could be.

☰ chiron in fifth house indicates pain associated with creative passions and self-expression. one may have had negative experiences that have led them to feel insecure about these aspects of life; thus leading them to distance themselves from openly expressing themselves creatively. they may take great care to keep their works of art private, tone down certain parts of their personality, and may even feel ashamed to explain themselves when others ask them about certain aspects of their creative and self-expression because of negative feedback they could have gotten in the past.

but with such pain comes empathy and understanding. once developed, these natives are the first to take notice and are the fastest to lend a sensitive ear as well as a supportive hand as soon as they see others going through the same struggle.

☱ sun-lilith in harsh aspects might have been told to cover up more by both peers and grown-ups, even when wearing "acceptable" clothing when they were kids. this placement can indicate an individual that was more sexualized from a young age, which can lead to them either being hypersexual or overly-reserved sexually in adulthood.

☲ lilith in the seventh house can indicate an individual that struggles to commit and open up about who they are to their partner/s. people with lilith in this house may have had bad experiences with marriage (perhaps witnessing bad divorces or tumultuous long-term relationships between their parents) and therefore might be turned off by the thought of marriage and/or long-term partnerships.

and though this doesn't mean that the native will be a lone soul forever, it does make one more likely to have these sort of relationships at a significantly older age in comparison to other signs.

[tw: mention of domestic violence in my personal experience, i have witnessed my parents go through an incredibly bad separation (tons of emotional abuse, infidelity, and a situation actually involving domestic violence) which has honestly made me quite hesitant to get married, even as i approach my mid-20s.]

☴ the cancer rising urge to cry when someone you care about is crying or in distress in general.

☳ a few asteroid notes:

note: asteroids are less impactful to one's personality, physicality, etc. compared to personal planets. they tend to only be relevant to one's chart if they are either in a tight orb (0-1°) or have major aspects to personal planets, preferably conjunctions or oppositions.

✢ messalina (545) known as the most promiscuous woman in rome, empress messalina is still recognized today as a symbol of uncontrolled, violent, irrational, and impulsive behavior. this asteroid reminds me very much of lilith in that it is representative of dark feminine energy and having this prominent in one's chart can be indicative of an individual that is not afraid to use their sexuality to their advantage or to create harm unto others in different aspects of their lives, but especially in terms of romantic and sexual relationships.

✢ anagolay (3757) is an potentially hazardous asteroid named after anagolay, the tagalog goddess of lost things and the daughter of the hermaphroditic goddess of seasons, lakapati. she is culturally-recognized for her ability to find not only physical objects but also abstract possessions like lost opportunities and faded memories. having this prominent in one's chart can suggest an individual that is very in-tune with cycle of nature and the subsequent passage of time. they may be more sensitive to bouts of nostalgia where they dwell on things that could have been and the way that things were. may also just indicate a person that is hypersensitive to losing physical things, though.

[`] film: go (2001) dir. isao yukisada

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[so-i-did-this-thing]

Ok, a lot of trans guys are into historic clothing, so my notes on my Siegfried Farnon cosplay will be through that lens.

Buying vintage is tricky because clothing silhouettes are different from modern (especially where trousers sit), and a shop may or may not do vanity sizing. So, it's important to know all your measurements, have measurements of similar garments that fit well, to carefully read sizing charts, and to be able to experiment on fit (aka, be able to return stuff).

I bought 3 "new vintage" (reproduction) 100% cotton spearpoint collar shirts from Darcy Clothing. Shipping from the UK to US was fast. The green shirt is ironically not for Siegfried, because I already was on a mission to have more historic style clothing.

I am a size men's small in casual shirts, due to narrow shoulders and a 36" chest. However, I am a 14.25" neck (compared to barely 13" pre-T, which is a big change), which nudges me towards men's medium territory sometimes.

I ordered based on my neck size, a 14.5" in this case. (Darcy suggests adding .5" to your neck measurement. I erred on the smaller side because a 15" collar shirt is guaranteed to be enormous on me.)

Other stats: I am 5'10" and weigh about 160-5 lbs, with most my fat in my belly (so I can't wear slim cut shirts unless I drop about 10 lbs). Usual caveats that my fit feedback is mainly for my sizing, ymmv. Fits are straight out of the bag for this photo set - no ironing, I have a lot of meetings today. 😅

Notes:

The neck is snug only on the green shirt, perhaps because the fabric is slightly thicker, or just due to standard deviation. The white shirts fit great in the neck.

Shoulder seam sits somewhere between a modern small and medium. This is acceptable; the next neck size up would definitely result in a hugely baggy shirt for me, and going down a neck size would choke me.

Sleeves are typical for many trans guys -- too long. I am hoping sleeve garters will do the trick in pulling up the cuff properly on my wrist.

Fit across the chest is a bit too large for me. I would hesitate to wear this shirt without a waistcoat, but it's also a fit that could be improved with an after-market dart.

Fit across the belly is roomier than the chest - this is a boxy shirt.

Super long shirt, no danger of it untucking, even in modern hip-hugger pants (why would you do that)

Fabric is a good weight and tight weave for the green shirt. I am wearing a dark blue undershirt in these pics. The white shirts are a bit thinner - you can see the design on my undershirt, so if you bind, definitely go with a light colored binder under a white undershirt.

So, for my measurements, Darcy is pretty good! I will still struggle with many of the same fit frustrations I do in modern clothing, but have acceptable workarounds.

Next, will look at a new vintage suit from another vendor, from which I'm considering ordering Siegfried's tweed 3-piece.

[moonbewitched]

✰ ✰ ✰ "shar will never admit defeat."

hello everyone! my name is val, im 23 y/o, & i use she/her. i am ♒︎ sun, ♋︎ moon, and ♍︎ rising.

i started this blog as a means to publicize my continuing studies of western/vedic astrology, numerology, the destiny matrix, tarot/brujeria, & more!

i am, by no means, a professionally-accredited astrologer or an expert practitioner. please do not take everything posted here as 100% fact as i am still learning every day, as many of us are. i absolutely accept & encourage constructive criticism/feedback on my posts. if you also have any resources to share with me, i would love that too! i intend for my blog to mainly serve as a hub for all of the information posted by you wonderful people, as i want everyone to learn with me! :)

: ̗̀➛ NOTE: most of my content (initially) consists of observations experienced firsthand, or by those close to me. 18+, minors dni. ASK BOX IS currently OPEN for any questions.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

GENERAL OBSERVATIONS

— tba

LUNAR/SOLAR/OTHER RETURN CHARTS

— tba

PERSONA CHARTS

— tba

RELATIONSHIPS/SPOUSE

— tba

SYNASTRY/COMPOSITE/DAVISON

— tba

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

MORE LINKS TO BE ADDED.

[keen-on-euphemisms]

So here is the thing.

I think I have a major crush and apparently its mutual.

And it scares the shit out of me.

All started here, and now the only thing I can think of is writing a bigger post out of it. All feedback is appreciated as my head is a mess.

I met this guy at the party and we clicked immediately. We chatted for a week, and he came for a private lesson - I have one wonderful talent that I'm willing to share sometimes - with me. We ended up having absolutely insane night after the lesson together. And we keep meeting over the course of 3 weeks now.

I never had anything like it. First of, I never thought with the level of my fucked up personality and interests someone actually accept it and like it. Second, sexual chemistry is insane, especially for me as demisexual. And when i say insane, think of the smuttiest fanfic you ever read kind of stuff. And third, this is the first time of me meeting someone this mature in the head - never experienced this level of healthy communication.

I am scared like shit.

At times, I really have to shake my head to remind myself that this is real because the level of doubts that this is not a dream, especially for someone delulu like me, is off the charts. Maybe because, again, the healthy level of communication in all of the areas of our relationship. With my traumatic background it's astonishing to have it at all. I am terrified this is a smartly laid trap even if all the facts speak against it.

And I am terrified of fucking it up. Because I want to keep myself, my authentic self, and at the same time find healthy compromise for being with another person.

He knows of my fears, i told him, and he is willing to take it slow and wait for me to sort my head out. He is family oriented at his age, so he straight out told me that it won't be fuck buddies situation because he has confidence that it can go long way. As he said, the intensity that I feel is the same for him (and by the way, he started this talk, not me). It doesn't scare him, my sheepishness, the only thing that scares him is losing what we started to build now.

And he is leaving country for 4 months because of work. Which at one hand I want, as I need this time, and on the other hand, I already feeling sick of the perspective of not having this person close to me.

I for sure for the first time in my life experience something like this. And if you can give me your support - god knows I need it and will appreciate it.

I'm so fucked you guys. So fucked I'm on the brink of tears.

[torialefay]

Hi, Torie? Or may I call you Fairy because you did swoop into my life like an angel, hehe.

Please call me Ree if you wish, but as my username? ID? nick? (sorry I'm very new to this platform) suggests I am indeed a balding brown lady and I turned 29 this Jan.

I've been lurkin' around tumblr for about 3 days now, and consuming whole astrology posts, predictions, analyses, ff, etc on Bang Chan (the Majestic) because, well, I'm delulu. Before anything else, I'd like to plainly state I LOVE the way you arrange your synopses. They're beautifully detailed, categorized, summarized as well as described under each of his placements and houses, and to an astrology enthusiast but noob like me, it helps SO much. I'd also like to thank you, simply for the effort you put in for making amazing, relatable content like this. You're a Fay indeed!

And so, I seek to feed my delusions further by requesting a compatibility analysis with none other than the operator of these delusions, Mr. Bahng of SKZ himself.

I'll be attaching herein as much information as I can provide, I hope this helps.

I'd also like to add that I don't want to rush you, like at all. I can feed myself with the other contents of your blog in the meanwhile, so please take up this request as you please, when you please.

And oh! Thank you for creating this space for people like me who are proclaimed "too old" to be crushing on idols and celebs. I think you're about 4 years younger than me, but the openness and acceptance of astro-Stays always amazes and enchants me. Thank you for being the way you are!! <3

Anyways, I'm sorry about the huge rambling, I went for longer than intended, hehe. And I wish you happiness, health, love, abundance and prosperity. May you flourish, Fay!

And thank you, once again!

hi ree! why are you so cute?! your comments got me blushing over here 🤭 you are just the sweetest thing! i appreciate all of your kind words and feedback soooo much! it fuels me to write more & more <3

also, you are definitely not "too old." i always say life doesn't start until your thirties anyway hehe. AND if it makes you feel any better with hair stuff, i've definitely already got a few grays. i'm right behind ya ❤️

if you're new to astrology, i'd recommend going through my "Bangchan As Your Boyfriend" astrology series if you haven't already. i go more in depth with some of those. but if you ever have specific questions regarding chan's chart, please feel free to message or inbox me any time <333

NOW, for your reading hehe:

your ascendant and mercury in aquarius (1st house):

with these placements, i already know that you are super fun and unique. definitely a "march to the beat of your own drum" kind of person. aquarians are already very cerebral by nature, getting lost in their own heads and focusing on abstract thinking. your your SPECIFIC planets found here are super beneficial to have (in my opinion) and here's why:

the first house, in general, is who you come across as. so obviously you have your ascendant in aquarius here, BUT you also have mercury in the first house. mercury is all about how you communicate with others. SO, putting all of this together, you likely come across as someone who has their own unique interests and is very good at talking about them. people probably think you are actually a very good communicator, albeit in your own way. aquarians tend to make mental connections that others don't, so sometimes you may feel frustrated when you meet someone and they just don't seem to "get it." or maybe they aren't able to get very engaged in the conversation, which is understandable because your mind probably works in ways that others' don't. this is an awesome placement though since likely (as long as you feel comfortable to talk with that person), they will find you very interesting!

this is actually a great match with chan. chan's ascendant is in gemini, and his mercury is in libra. both of these are air signs, the same as aquarius. what all air signs have in common is their "cerebral" nature. they love good, mentally stimulating conversation. NOW, connect that with the actual aspects of personality that we are talking about (first impressions and communication), and BOOM, recipe to immediate connection. you'd be able to talk to each other about anything any everything. i think you'd probably keep chan on his toes a bit too.

your sun in aquarius in the 12th house:

we've already discussed aquarius, so i won't beat a dead horse there. sun is all about personality around others- the way you present yourself to friends. and the 12th house represents spirituality, the occult, healing and closure, the afterlife, etc etc. i always associate 12th house energy with astrology actually, so i'm glad you've made it here 🫶🏼 and tbh, it's *literally in your stars for your personality to be attracted to it!

with this placement, you probably seem like someone who, again, has their own ways of thinking, but you seem as though you're peaceful about it. like at the end of the day, you are who you are and you're unbothered. unapologetically yourself is definitely the best version of you to grow into if you aren't there already!

i think this is also a good match for chan's libra sun. neither of the signs are innately controversial and usually get along well with anyone. i think it would make for a pretty harmonious relationship.

your moon in scorpio in the 9th house:

moons give us insight into who we are at the core. our deepest values and beliefs. yours lies in the 9th house, which is all about travel, wisdom and learning, cultures, and philosophy. scorpio is the sign of deep rooted connection, beauty, and intensity. so let's put all of this together. at your core, you are probably very driven or inspired by the world around you. your interests aren't limited to the things around you, but to everything in the world. you likely feel a deep need for travel and cultural connection. not only this, but you find beauty in each person from these different cultures AND you yearn for world-wide connectivity. definitely the "all i want is world peace" type. that isn't to say that you're naive about it, but in an ideal world, you see its inherent value.

as far as moon compatibilities with chan, i think this could work. i don't see it going overwhelmingly in one direction or the other. what i will say: your scorpio moon is much more intense than chan's libra moon. it isn't that it's your intention, but at your baseline, you can be verrrrry passionate about things. but more in an "idgaf" way than chan. it also means that it's gonna be much easier for YOU to share emotions than it is for him. and with that scorpio moon, you are definitely NOT gonna be happy when in a relationship with a partner who doesn't share those "hidden" parts of themselves. i think it would take some work here, but once you learn to trust each other, you would both fill each others' needs emotionally.

your venus in sag in the 10th house:

with this placement, it's likely that you love your people fiercely and that is shown through your actions. you're also probably very deeeeeply loyal to those you love, and that translates into relationships as well. it also means that you like to have fun in relationships and live them up to the fullest, which potential partners see when they meet you (through that 10th house energy)!

chan's venus is in scorpio, a water sign. and yours is in sag, a fire sign. a lot of people will tell you that "ahh water and fire don't mix" etc etc. but i wholeheartedly disagree. both signs represent the extremes when it comes to passion, just how they show it can be a bit different. both scorpio and sag are super full of passion and intensity in the bedroom and in relationships in general. the difference between you and chan would mainly be in the balance of fun & lighthearted love VS all encompassing, devotional love. you may feel sometimes like chan is being too controlling or is "suffocating" you in a way, and he may come to feel like you get flighty on him sometimes (maybe you go back and forth between what you do and don't want). BUT i still think that with balance and time, these placements can actually be ideal. it definitely makes for a fun and well-rounded romance. (i want to add though that if someone if going to have to defer more, i see you deferring more to chan. sag is a mutable sign, so you're likely to be more flexible).

*also wanting to add too that it is likely that whoever you are with (partner wise) will likely very much be tied to how people perceive you. idk just felt like adding that in there hehe

your mars in leo in the 7th house:

mars shows action and aggression. leo represents individuality and confidence. 7th house rules relationships, marriage, and partnerships. putting all of this together with chan's mars in sag, i see a combination for some problems. both leo and sagittarius mars realllly guard their ego. like a lot. with your 7th house placement, it seems like you are likely someone who tries to protect themselves a lot when in relationships with others. chan is the same way, in regards to his ego that is. this is how i see it playing out: some big argument erupts and your reaction is to place the blame onto something/someone else (sorry but maybeeee), and then chan pops off or maybe even gets upset and storms out. it's fighting fire with fire (literally 2 fire signs here). so when things "go up in flames"... take that literally lol. this would be a reallllly big make or break.

overall though, i think there's good compatibility here! feel free to leave any feedback or lmk if you have any questions baby ❤️❤️❤️

[thevirgodoll]

Hi Virgodoll! I gave a presentation today at work that I think I bombed it. Also, I noticed in the shoutout chart that no one gave me one, so I asked leadership if I could give myself a shoutout. They said yes, so I publicly gave myself one. It felt good to acknowledge myself when no one did.

No matter how much I practice, I just can’t seem to give presentations the way I see most professionals do. I end up smiling and kind making weird funny faces. It could come off as unserious, but I’m actually doing that to reduce my anxiety.

I’m a very articulate person, but I lose my train of thought and can’t seem to express myself when giving presentations via zoom. I mix up words, phrases, tenses, etc. it’s strange cause I’m a damn good writer! It also sucks cause I’m a Black woman and I don’t want people thinking idk what I’m talking about. I do good work, but struggle with presenting it via zoom.

I asked leadership what they thought of my presentation. They said I did very well. For some reason I feel like they are just being nice. I always feel like I’m talking gibberish whenever I’m giving presentations.

I worry about how I’m perceived at work and how everyone thinks I’m dumb and can’t speak properly. Arghhh!

Any words of encouragement, constructive criticism, and advice would be greatly appreciated. Thanks in advance!

I agree, it's good to acknowledge yourself and give yourself your flowers when no one else does. Believe me, it will happen more often than you think in the academic and corporate world.

However, I think you are falling victim to upwards comparison. What good is it to look at other people at work speak when they aren't you? They're probably boring, to be honest. While you can manage your facial expressions by doing speeches in the mirror, who told you the way you exist is wrong?

When it comes to speeches and talking to people, I just treat it like a conversation and let one thought carry me to where I need to go. I appeal to the audience I am talking to and adjust based on small pieces of information I gathered from them during a lunch break or the original interview. If you focus more on the fact that they're regular people and YOU are the star of the moment, it's easier to focus. That sounds delusional, but let it be.

It's easy to say "stop worrying how others perceive you" and I think that's a load of BS to serve that to y'all. We always worry about how we are perceived. I say focus on that anxiety and worry. Ask yourself what they could possibly be noticing. Why? Because then you can hold yourself accountable and realize that such scrutiny is coming from yourself. You are building a narrative that only exists if you plant the seed and bear fruit (***with the exception of a hostile work environment. If this environment is not hostile, and I am assuming it is fine prayerfully...);

If they say you're doing fine, affirm yourself. If they say they didn't like it, still affirm yourself and know that you're already doing well by having the guts to even go up there in the first place. Some people can't even get through a basic conversation.

Why can't you accept you did well? Perfectionism? Upbringing? Have you journaled lately? All of the picking yourself apart that you just did would be best written down in a diary so you can see how hard you are on yourself.

Regarding compliments, it's tough in the professional world, especially if you are of color. Sometimes, people don't give props because they feel like your confidence emits so loud and bright that you already know you're doing well.

Just continue asking for feedback, but also, practice your speeches and fall in love with yourself. Look at yourself and ask yourself why you hate the quirks that make you you. The idiosyncrasies you possess is actually the foundation for a memorable moment and makes people want to listen to you more. That's what makes a connection, an authentic impression, and a lasting memory... not robotic AI. Trust me - I am a Virgo lol.

[bouquetface]

Hi, I'd like to participate in your astro game. My nickname Anisah, she/her. Hope I still get the opportunity 🙏

Here my chart & moodboard:

P.s: Can you read about the best career options & future spouse from my chart. Thank you so much & have a nice day!! ❤️❤️

Hello!

You likely grew up being the responsible one. You could be the eldest child. You could have parents that were sometimes unstable. Making it feel like you’re responsible for their feelings&lives.

This creates positive traits (reliable, responsible/mature) but it is a heavy burden. To deal with this, you may have become hyper independent and emotionally lonely.

Unlike your moon, your cancer venus is gentle and wishes to be nurtured. In relationships this can create internal conflict. You want to trust people and let your guard down. But you have a very hard outer shell. You can be nihilistic. In good moments, you may feel it won’t last and that something bad is going to happen. This likely has been your experience in the past. Your moon wants to protect you but it can get in the way of you fully expressing and accepting love.

Your future spouse will be very a stable person. Trusting them will be very easy. They may be a homebody. They could enjoy cooking and indulging in good foods. They like being comfortable as well. They may have expensive taste in certain items as well. This could be something like vehicles or shoes. They could collect these items. They are likely very hardworking. They have expensive taste but they do the work to be able to afford it. They may be a leader in their workplace or life in general. Physically, they may be slim and tall.

They are great communicators. They may be very sarcastic and witty. Funny person. They may enjoy reading as well. Their bad trait may be they can be very stubborn. However, this might mix well with your personality. This person is very trustworthy. Once they say something, you know they mean it. Divorce isn’t likely for this reason. Once this person has decided on something, they are fully committed to their choices.

For your career, I am only suggesting. I am not a professional and don’t want you to make choices based off this reading only.

You are likely an observant person. You pay attention details that others might overlook. This would make you a good lawyer. You are likely to reach a career position that gives you authority. You could pick a career that gives you status. You would do well in management positions as well.

Career Field Suggestions: Law, Analyst, Human Resources.

Please leave feedback 🩵

[inkytoru]

hello starlings!! i am now opening astrology matchup requests for fictional animanga characters! i am by no means a professional astrologer, only a hobbyist, but i will do my best to find out what character you would be most compatible with from your favorite series, or i will compare your charts with a character of your choosing and tell you how compatible you both would be.

CURRENT STATUS: CLOSED !!

WHAT FANDOMS DO YOU ACCEPT?

❥ only tokyo revengers as of right now.

WHAT TO EXPECT?

❥ you will receive 3 positive and 3 negative planetary aspect analyses and either a moodboard depicting your relationship in images OR a little sfw (or if requested, nsfw instead) drabble of you two. expect a turnaround time of 1-7 days given i am not terribly busy outside of tumblr.

HOW TO SUBMIT A MATCHUP REQUEST:

❥ send in 3 characters, an ask with your name, pronouns, birthdate (in the format DD/MM/YYYY), birth time, and birth place. all of the above information is required and this ask will not be published in addition to being deleted once your matchup is posted.

❥ specify whether you would like a matchup, or a reading for a particular character that has an official birthday.

❥ let me know if you would like a sfw or nsfw written blurb. you MUST be 18 or older to send in a request regardless of whichever drabble type you want. minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be denied and subsequently blocked. if a drabble type is not specified, i will default to sfw.

tip jar. feedback. psd template.

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

I am appalled there is even a debacle over you requesting that authors receive sincere interactions from readers. I’m sure there is nothing more dehumanizing than readers and commenters sending a request or demanding a sequel like you are able generate one on command and there is not a please, a thank you, or even a conversation. Especially after pouring your energy and existence into a piece of art. I am still so grateful for ‘King For A Day’ and how much you had put into that piece of art. You brought the golden trio to life for me and they’ve always been dearest to my heart. I had always been hesitant about requesting or writing something polyamorous due to my inexperience and not feeling comfortable questioning monogamy. Knowing the type of fanfiction you write, how unapologetically comfortable you are with your identity, and your genuine drive to have a relationship with your readers made me unafraid to ask. You created something so meaningful about sexuality, sacrifice, identity, temptation, loyalty, acceptance, and love while preserving the magic and characters. That was just from a smut request! Meaningful conversations, requests, interactions, etc are not just benefiting her. If more authors received a morsel of this quality of feedback or humanity, they’d want to provide more for their readers. We have devolved from symbiosis to amensalism. What do authors get out of a few notes after spending weeks, months, or years crafting plots, conflicts, resolutions, and characters? Food for thought.

okay but discussion of King For A Day is so important when it comes to this topic. because it is such a great example fic. thank you so much for sending this message!!!

just in general thank you for everything you have said in this message, because everything you are saying is so true and makes so much sense. and I just - I need to chat about this fic in particular and everything surrounding it. people who know me will know that I bring up King For A Day so often

King For A Day was a huuuuuge spiritual awakening for me as a writer. I consider it to be a perfect fic in terms of a representation of me as an artistic and the execution of my ideas being perfect in the final product on paper

something I have not mentioned - as a kind of experiment, so far this year I have been writing down what are my top ten fics of each month (statistically) from Tumblr, and putting them on a chart. so, the ten fics that get the most notes each month (not just new ones) get noted down so I can see which fics and which fandoms do the best, and so I can see if new fics are performing well - just out of curiosity.

King For A Day has made the list a few times. and every single time I go back to the fic, the number of likes and reblogs has increased, but it always has the same 15 replies on the post. and those 15 replies are the discussion that you and I had on the fic when it first came out - and even if I don't always read through those, seeing that number brings me so much joy. because it reminds me that I made just one person really enthusiastic about the fic in order to spark a discussion about the fic

and it makes me feel like the fic was successful. I do not judge the fic's success on whether or not the likes go up - but by the fact that there was a full fledged discussion in the comments, and it made one person enthusiastic about the fic. that's it

on the other hand - I consider the AO3 comments of King For A Day to be the fucking war trenches of comments. I consider it to be like the Menacled effect (and I think that the Harry Potter fandom is one of the most tiktokified fandoms when it comes to AO3 memes and 'big' fanfics, so they are one of the most entitled fandoms, and one fandom where the culture feels so different, especially on AO3) - but the AO3 comments of King For A Day are a huuuuuge example of how not to comment on fics.

50% of the fucking comments are passive aggressive and asking me to change something about one of the main elements of the fic

'I would like to read a second chapter' - this is not a chaptered fic, this is a oneshot. so there won't be one. also you put this in like a McDonalds order, and that's not how this works?

using the word 'but' in comments like this just doesn't work. if you have to put the word 'but' in a fic comment, then you shouldn't be commenting.

this comment would be perfectly fine and normal and good if it stopped at the heart. BUT (lmao) this fucking comment lives in my mind in infamy because this person for some reason clicked on a fic that is clearly labelled as an x reader fic (written by an author whose entire account is x reader fics) and wanted me to change that main element of the fic??

and for this fic in particular - I have no fucking clue what canon character they would have wanted me to put in place of the reader character. there is no character who easily gels with the dynamic of the Golden Trio - hence, why I invented the reader character in the first place (to show someone balancing out the trio's personalities and acting like a bridge between them to mesh all of them together). like if you want this to be with a canon character - pick one, and use Word Replacer to put them in. don't fucking bother me about it.

and right now, some of you reading this post are readying your little fingers to type a message to me going:

"well you can just moderate comments! you can delete comments you don't like!!" - yes, but I still have to read comments like this.

comments don't get filtered and deleted before I even see them.

even if I delete comments like this, even if I moderate comments - I still have to read them. when people go through the thoughtless process of typing out a comment like this and hitting send, not at all thinking about how that comment will appear to the author, the author still has to read their weird demanding passive aggressive comment. even if they don't reply to it and delete it. (and I usually do reply to comments like this, because I try to politely guide people in the way of being more polite with my replies by telling them I have no plans to change the fic and no plans to make a sequel so they shouldn't ask for it.)

HOWEVER - there is a big difference to me between people commenting on a fic that is in progressing and a fic that is already finished. I have gotten all of my creative satisfaction from King For A Day. especially from the discussion that you and I had surrounding it. so those passive aggressive comments annoy me, a lot - and it makes me feel like people don't appreciate something I think is perfect and beautiful - but they don't ruin the work for me.

people commenting something like that ^^^ on a wip would ruin it for me. and it would completely dash my motivation to finish it at all

and like people have to realize that most of the fics I post are FINISHED. they are finished. so commenting on a finished fic asking for major changes or asking for a sequel where one was never intended is just a douchy thing to do. it's like if someone made a chocolate cake and brought it to a party (for free) and then you took a bite and told them that they should have vanilla cake instead. they're not gonna go back and remake the whole thing just because one person said so. or it's like saying that they should have made and brought brownies too. like nooooo

most of the time, I am posting a work that I have already gotten creative satisfaction from and I am just looking to (maybe) get a second burst of creative satisfaction (like a secondhand high) from having a discussion about it with someone. seeing people notice details in my work or having them ask me about my thought process gives me a second burst of creative energy - and that's all I'm looking for. and sometimes it gives me more ideas for those characters, or even ideas for a sequel to that work that you guys might want to read as well

otherwise, I move on to other creative pursuits, looking to get my creative high somewhere else. that's it

if anyone remembers the time I wrote You Shook Me All Night Long - discussion surrounding the fic got everyone a 20k bonus blurbs series. because people were messaging me excited to see Max get makeup lessons from the reader character and they were excited to see more about Steve and the reader's family. and I wouldn't have written it if not for people's excitement and discussion of the fic. I would have moved onto another fic right way.

I still don't get how or why people think that discussing the work with the writer is a trick when it directly benefits them because it just gets more fics for them???

because like you said - King For A Day, a fucking 22k fic, came from you randomly planting an idea in my inbox - not a request, not a demand, a seed of an idea - an idea that sparked my brain and made me so crazed that I wrote the fic within a week. and that is the kind of thing I'm looking for. people to vibe with me and help my creative vibes. and if not for you, that fic would not have existed.

that is the power of readers reaching out to writers with good intentions

[rosesnbooks]

Hi I am here for free natal chart reading

free ("brief") natal chart reading

hello there darling, thank you for your patience and i hope you’ll find this was worth the wait. i feel like people don’t see your complexity at first. they may find you more on the serious and ambitious side, and you’re not the easiest to approach. i think you see life in a more mature and level-headed way. but, i think you appreciate good communication and you’re more playful than you seem. you’re smart and quick-witted and like using these skills in creative outlets. you stand out in a way, and you’re not a fan of doing things the way others want you to, and honestly, good for you. you have quite an imaginative mind, hun! in regards to your emotional life, you feel things fiercely and have a quick temper. you don’t like it when anyone bosses you around and your love is deep and profound. you’d do everything for the ones you love, and they’re the only ones who know the deeper levels of your intensity. you’re able to guide your emotions in a way that helps you achieve your goals and live your life to the fullest. when others give you a chance, they see that you are warm, with a softer side. when you talk, you like to take things slow but also as honestly, and as direct. you have an attractive voice, and i think your family knows how sensible and down-to-earth you can be when you think and speak. watch out for your ego when you communicate sometimes. people like your aesthetic and appreciate your beauty. in love, you want someone sensual, knows how to enjoy things in life but is very reliable and mature when they need to be. they also need to give you lots of space and freedom and provide a friendship, as well as a relationship. you’re quite innovative and approach things differently than others. you can be stubborn and you have a strong drive to fulfill your ambitions. like i said, watch out for your temper and ego tho. you’ll have the most luck in life when you accept your intense and emotional side, and also try to be more diplomatic, and fair and find joy in the beautiful things life has to offer. you may be a big overthinker and have difficulties with stress/anxiety, but it will get easier with time. you still have some development to do in your love life, so working on yourself is important. you’ll have luck with your ambitions. also, try to appreciate forming good relations with others! they will bring you luck too. you don’t have to do things alone. there, i hope you liked this reading and i’ll be looking forward to your feedback! <3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Helping Hand 7

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of divorce, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Jonathan Pine, 40s reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You sit in the sterile waiting room, slouched like a guilty dog as you stare at your scuffed work shoes and cradle your arm. It feels heavier by the moment, the tenderness only growing, and a regrettable crack sounds as you try to shift it. You grunt and teethe down on your pain. Jonathan looks at you but says nothing.

It feels surreal, sitting there beside him, waiting on a doctor. This isn't how you saw your day going. But when did anything in your life go to plan? Twenty years of marriage flushed away for a younger woman and a midlife crises. Working a job meant for college students in your forties. It's all going just so spectacularly.

Your name is called before you can sink any further into self-pity. You get up but Jonathan doesn't follow. You're happy for that at least. He at least is aware of some boundaries.

It's a small office with only a few doctors. You're put in the room to wait some more and when the physician enters, she introduces herself as Dr. Marguerite Garcia. You try to smile and return her basic niceties. It's hard to focus on anything but the agony. She checks your chart and verifies your history before asking questions about your injury.

She nods and sets down her clipboard. "Do you mind if I do some tests? I'll need to feel your shoulder and move your arm."

"Yeah, that's fine. I'm pretty sure it's just a pulled muscle," you explain.

"Sure, but we should make sure," she nears and you sit up.

She lifts your arm and you squeak. She moves it slowly at different angles, feeling around your shoulders and back, then along your neck. Your eyes fill with tears by the time she lets you put your arm down.

"It would appear like a torn rotator cuff. I could send you for imaging to be sure but I'm fairly certain," she grabs the chart again.

"Really? What does that mean?"

"We won't go straight to surgery. Right now, we'll start with the basics; rest, ice, and physical therapy. I will have some exercises printed out for you to do, along with a link where you can find videos. If you like, I can write a referral to a therapist." She continues as she scribbles with her pen, "I'll send you off with some painkillers as well. You seem like you need the relief."

"Oh, thank you," you smile.

"And I'll get you into a sling. Just for a few days to take some of the pressure off."

"A sling?"

"It shouldn't be too much and it'll be a reminder for you to not use that arm," she girds. "Let me just go get that script filled and I'll have the nurse come fit you."

"Sure," you accept as you look down. Great, a prescription, how much is that going to cost you? And you highly doubt they're giving the slings away for free. Just another expense, just another step backwards.

💙

You get the bottle of pills before the nurse sees you. You take one for good measure as the throbbing overwhelms every other sense. Finally with your arm confined and a pocket full of painkillers, you're free to leave the office.

As you come out into the waiting room, Jonathan stands at the counter. He tucks something into his jacket pocket as he faces you.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Um, I think I have to pay for--"

"Already done," he interjects, "better get you home so you can rest."

"You paid? You didn't have to--"

"Please, it is nothing," he waves you off, "come. I'm sure all you want to do is lay down."

He isn't wrong and you're all out of energy. You're not going to argue with another man that day. You're going to let the pills kick in and leave the world behind.

You let him lead you outside and he opens the car door for you. You're not sure it's any sort of gallant behaviour, rather practical as you are down to a single arm. You get in and awkwardly pull the seat belt across you.

He closes the door as you jam the buckle into place and sit back with a sigh. You shut your eyes. You just can't wait to be home. Alone.

You sense the shift of weight as he gets in on the driver's side. He starts the engine as you stifle a yawn behind your lips and open your eyes, a swimming wobbliness in your vision. The pills are hitting harder than you expected. Well, you hadn't eaten much, just coffee and maybe half a cracker.

"You alright?" He asks as the car rolls into motion and you open your eyes.

"Great," you grumble and let your eyelids droop as your head drifts towards the window. "Tired..."

You watch the buildings pass, other cars stopping and skimming by. You lose yourself in the lazy traffic and the dimming blueness of the sky. Your lashes sink further and further, until they meet, and that hot fuzziness coaxes them together. The pain in your shoulder dulls, barely tugging at your consciousness as it fades away.

[psychelis-new]

Hello! I want to participate in your personal readings :)

I choose personal readings.

My question is: How will you describe the personality, traits, and the placements of my first lover? (I haven’t been in a relationship since birth)

I chose this PAC: https://www.tumblr.com/psychelis-new/714765989680644096/pick-a-pile-where-are-you-in-your-healing

My feedback: I love how it resonated with me especially with the way it described how I am getting in touch with my inner child during my healing process. Also, how my mind is working fast to the point that I started journaling 2 weeks ago to channel down my thoughts. Honestly, I was not doing good within the last school years. It was just now (I am already a junior in college) that I learned to find the peace of mind that I was yearning ever since by facing my fears, and getting to know myself even more. I am not saying that I am already totally healed and happy, but I am getting there. I am finally learning to let go of control and accepting things that I have no control over. There is a part of the reading that says I have an imaginative mind, or perhaps I am writing stories. Honestly, I wanted to write a story ever since. It’s just I don’t have enough time to do it 🥹 To summarize, I am starting to worry less about certain things and learn to look at the positive light :)

Oh and by the way, I have picked this PAC since I am feeling light at the moment despite still facing challenges in life (Of course, it is a part of it) and at the same time I love the picture of the 3rd pile in this PAC! It reminds me of summer breeze or the flowers that bloomed after the rain 🤍

2 emojis: 🕊️🤍

That’s all! Thank you so much and take your time :)

Hello and thanks for joining! Also thank you for sending such an accurate feedback. Healing do takes time, and lot of compassion and kindness towards ourselves. You're doing great seen what you've told me, and I am very happy you're doing better than before. And ofc, you'll get there: take it slow for now. Move on, find a new balance (slowly) and then make another move when you feel ready. And always work with yourself, never against: you're a great team. I hope you can find time to write the story you want to, I'd really like to read it!

Anyway. Your first lover:

They could be someone pretty exuberant, in a way. May be very bold and conscious, determined, self confident and even successful in what they do or they just like to stand out from crowds (I'm getting the energy of the most handsome guy of the school/captain of the school football team in movies, someone many do like/admire/watch for some reason). I think they may seem "cocky" to some too. Kinda opposite to you, but you fit well together like you complete each other. They bring in a huge change in your life and show you about "real happiness" (I heard this). I think they'll bring you out of your comfort zone, they like to follow sudden impulses like (this may not be it but just to give you an example of the energy I get) "Get ready, let's go skydiving!" or more likely, "Let's go run in the rain, what are you scared of?". May have air in their chart, maybe Gemini and Aquarius. And some fire too, especially Aries/Sag (Leo too despite I don't feel the "attention-seeker" here, it just happens that they stand out for how they move/look... not sure if also for studies I keep focusing on sports now lol). I am not getting water signs, maybe just one earth sign like Capricorn (in 6th?) but Idk... May indeed do sports and be very active to burn the huge amount of energy they have. I think they may come in your life sooner than you think. But don't worry, it'll happen by chance. And ofc it's not that they are not nice or sweet, it's more like this "exuberant" part of them stands out more and maybe make them pretty attractive.

All the best and take care!