#i feel like its not quite right but i still like this

[rinnstars]

imagineee, aquarium dates with rin. LIKE, SEEING JELLYFISHES AND SHARKS AND CUTE TURTLES WITH OUR RINNIE?? perfecto *chefs kiss*. until you encounter a boy who strayed away from his teacher during their fieldtrip, and starts to tag along with you both. he likes rin but nags you so much?? wow, unfair! anyway, that's all, thank you @rinnstars !! mwa mwa !!

( i got this idea from the C-drama "When I Fly Towards You". the aquarium scene in episode 9 where they happened to be babysitters until the boy was brought back to his teacher and classmates. + please make this in the original timeline. highschool sweethearts with rinrin ( 16 or 17 ) >3< )

sea you with me!

aquarium dates with you

itoshi rin x reader: mainly from rin’s pov, fluff, a little bit of crack, not proofread + likes and reblogs are appreciated

notes: HIIII anon!!!! YES OFCCCC<333 fun fact is that i have never been to one but i hope it’s still sort of accurate TT spent my lesson break for this I JUST GOT A LITTLE EXCITED… just a little!!!! <3 dwww i read ur other part of req tooo although its in the bonus section ish !! <333

holding your hand in the midst of the crowd that forms around different section of glasses featuring different sea creature - from translucent-like jellyfish that practically shines underneath the blue shimmering light above it hovering around, from green turtles that floats around slowly serenely right next and in contrast to the shark that seem to bare its teeth to show its glory to the people looking in awe. he thinks hes lovesick when he sees that and glance at the reflection of you and him, so reminiscent of those sea creatures - with you being as ethereal and breath-taking as the jellyfish as you smile and him being the sharks being placed on display in a separate tank right beside yours in contrast the same way he frowns and grimaces and glares at others.

really, he thinks he doesn’t quite fit the atmosphere - filled with other students with their friends cheerily taking pictures of one another in front of each glass panel with their digicam (that’s inside his pocket if you ever ask for it), filled with noisy kids that yelp and tug at their parents shirt as they attempt to navigate the already-crowded area, filled with people that dress picture-perfect and light to match the atmosphere in contrast to his black jacket hiding his school uniform. and again, he is reminded of his own lovesickness - forgoing a lazy after school hang out with you right in his bedroom playing yours and his favourite song whilst eating food from that cafe he knows youre practically addicted to simply because you asked him to, without any pleadings or begging. yet, don’t get him wrong, hes having fun here although not in the traditional sense - he enjoys seeing you point and brighten up when you see a fish that just catches your attention as you skip right to it, he enjoys feeling your hands against his as though made for each other as you tug against it to move to the next section, and most importantly he really does enjoy seeing you enjoy yourself. after all, he knows you deserve especially after exam season - he’s seen you all drained out lying your head on your desk just days ago clearly exhusasted a few hours after insisting you’ll be fine, he’s seen your piles of notes and assignments and even more printed exam papers to redo for your exam that he thinks your table has already become the equivalent of an library, and hes seen you fallen asleep at your desk way later than you should be after his football club with tears stains that he wished to have been there to wipe away, to kiss away, anything to have prevented you from having cried.

and its this point as you two are chatting about life, leaning in closer to you, where that colourful fish that has been staying still seems to have woken up and in its hurry seem to swim desperately to another side that startles the both of you (he wishes to curse that fish for it would have been a scene out of a manga that you always read if he had mustered the courage to kiss you right there and then), leading you to stumble and almost hit someone - and by someone, its apparently a little kid who looks confused and dazed, not even moving as you almost crash right into him.

you look at that little kid and he looks right back at you with his wide eyes - and hes pretty sure it lasts a while more before you apparently decide to play “adopt me” (just like when you and him were both kids on roblox.. but he digress…) and he’s pretty sure he might just have accidentally glared at the kid with the way he tugs at your jacket as he walks behind you as though hiding from him. and of course, hes used to that sight, hes never been great with kids - having scared his little cousin with just his looks at some point that led him to be reprimanded by said cousin’s parents, having been bitten by said little cousin as soon as his parents left almost letting out a ear-shattering scream that would have completely shattered whatever ego was left from that bite mark that lasted weeks, having being thrown a drink at by said cousin another time whilst he was minding his business playing games beside him whilst having to save his switch and end up soaking wet in his home clothes for another hour or so (and he’s sworn off babysitting for his cousin ever since then) (he had to go to blue lock)

but in front of you, he wants a little pride, to impress you, he digresses - tugging at his pocket to offer the little kid in front of you a candy (out of the many he brings to give to you and to snack on himself). and he knows hes successful, letting himself smile slightly in victory as the kid face appears from behind you, cautiously accepting the candy that rin helps to tear away the packet of for him to enjoy. and perhaps he associates that sugary sweet strawberry flavour that bursts in his mouth with the two of you, suddenly turning from the quiet and confused kid you randomly found to a kid who suddenly was open and talkative, all smiles and laughter, holding the both of your hands in his and skipping, pulling you and rin with him.

and now, he finds himself no longer pulled by you, but this random kid - but when he looks at you who’s attention is clearly on the kid, smiling and nodding to whatever things he’s saying, you practically you look like an angel especially with the way the aquarium white and blue lights were illuminating you. and midway of course, he slowly lets go of rin’s hand, leaving him behind almost comically as he holds yours and his bag. and he can practically feel eyes glared at him, and all he wants to do is to run away as he walks behind you and that little kid that he now suddenly feels was against him all along - with the way he tugs and your arm and..!

“.. mhm! ah! wait those are my parents! bye bye!” he says, turning back at you and rin with a bright smile that practically filled your heart with warmth as though he was the sun, waving excitedly at the both of you before he cheerily skips towards his parents who looked confused at where he was, pulling him by the hand worriedly.

and with that, your hands are back to merging with his, and that tint of red on his face from embarrassment changes into a blush across his face that is only highlighted by the lights from having his hands on you, walking about in the sea exhibition. he wonders a little what that kid told you, for you to hold his hands seemingly a little tighter, leaning your head on his shoulder that isn’t completely uncharacteristic but still a little strange as you glance at another exhibition of fishes swimming passionately around the tank as though dancing, brushing his hair aside before leaning in and merging your lips with his that practically makes his heart flutters and pump even faster than it does on the field - and he swears he understands all those mangas you rave about teenage romance and whatnot when youre practically made for him.

bonus:

“… seriously bachira… i don’t think that’s rin…”

“it seriously is! i followed him from that cafe! i’m serious isagi!!”

“with that kind of personality…?”

“hey! keep it down a little he’s about to turn around..?!”

and rin thinks hes going to lose his mind when he turns around after that kiss only to see his isagi and bachira huddled together whispering clearly about him in their respective school uniform, tugging you by your hand to somewhere else as he sees them through the reflective glass of the exhibitions following him and you a little too obviously. but he guesses if its with you, he doesn’t mind it at all.

[littlelamylair]

vacation with you; nicholas chavez; mdni

a/n: thinking about doing a part 2 🤔

the day had been perfect—warm sand under your feet, the sound of the ocean filling the air as you and nicholas lounged on the beach, laughing and talking about everything and nothing. you’d been together for a year, and this vacation felt like the next step in your relationship. a chance to unwind, to explore, to be with each other away from the usual daily grind.

but the moment you stepped into the hotel room, you both burst into laughter.

in the center of the room was a massive heart-shaped bed, draped in red satin sheets. the lighting was dim, casting a warm, intimate glow across the room. the decor screamed honeymoon suite—cheesy, over-the-top, but undeniably romantic in its own way.

nicholas raised an eyebrow, grinning as he set down his bags. “this isn’t quite what we booked, is it?”

you shook your head, still laughing. “definitely not, but… it’s kind of cute, right?” you walked over to the bed, running your hand over the ridiculous satin. “i guess the universe decided to upgrade us.”

he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing a soft kiss to your neck. “i’m not complaining,” he murmured against your skin. “as long as i’m here with you, it’s perfect.”

the two of you spent the rest of the day exploring the beach, soaking in the sun, and just enjoying each other’s company. by the time you returned to the hotel, the sun had set, and you were both pleasantly tired, ready to crash into the absurdly large heart-shaped bed.

after a quick shower, you slipped into bed next to nicholas. the sheets were cool against your skin, and the mattress was soft, almost too soft, but it didn’t matter. you felt comfortable, at ease, like you always did with him. even after a year, being with nicholas still gave you that warm, fluttery feeling in your chest.

as you lay there, the room quiet except for the faint sound of the ocean through the window, you shifted onto your side, curling up with your back to him. his arm draped over your waist, pulling you closer. you smiled, nuzzling into the pillow, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back.

but then, as you moved to get comfortable, your hips brushed back against him. at first, it was an innocent movement, just trying to find the right position to sleep. but then you felt it—nicholas stiffening behind you, his body reacting to the unintentional touch.

you froze for a second, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. you could feel him, hard and pressing against you. your pulse quickened, the air suddenly feeling heavier, more charged. it wasn’t the first time you’d felt him like this, but something about it, in this moment, felt different.

nicholas shifted slightly, his hand tightening on your waist. his breath was soft against your neck, but you could hear the change, the way it hitched slightly, betraying the tension building between you two. you bit your lip, a thrill running through you as you realized exactly what was happening.

you moved again, this time more deliberately, pressing your hips back against him, feeling the hard length of him straining through his boxers. nicholas groaned softly, his fingers digging into your hip.

“you’re driving me crazy,” he whispered, his voice low and husky.

you couldn’t help the little smile that tugged at your lips. knowing the effect you had on him made heat pool between your thighs. you shifted again, this time purposefully rubbing against him, eliciting another groan from him. his reaction sent a shiver down your spine.

nicholas’s hand slid down your body, fingers brushing the hem of your shirt before slipping underneath, tracing the bare skin of your stomach. you gasped softly at the contact, your body already responding to his touch, your skin tingling with anticipation.

his hand moved lower, fingers grazing the waistband of your shorts, and you could feel his restraint, the way he was holding back, trying to be gentle even as his body screamed for more.

but you didn’t want him to hold back.

you reached down, your hand slipping under the sheets and finding his cock, hard and throbbing beneath the thin fabric of his boxers. nicholas sucked in a sharp breath as your fingers wrapped around him, stroking him slowly, teasingly.

“fuck,” he breathed, his hips bucking slightly against your hand. you could feel him pulsing in your grip, and it only made you want him more.

you turned your head slightly, your lips brushing his ear. “you want me to stop?” you whispered, your voice teasing, knowing exactly what his answer would be.

“God, no,” he groaned, his hand gripping your hip harder. “don’t stop.”

you smirked, slipping your hand into his boxers and pulling him free, your fingers wrapping around the hot, hard length of him. you stroked him slowly at first, savoring the way his cock twitched in your hand, the soft moans escaping his lips as you teased him.

nicholas’s hand slid down to your thigh, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your panties. the light touch sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you couldn’t help the soft whimper that escaped your lips.

he was always so good with his hands, always knew exactly how to touch you to make your body sing. and now, as his fingers slipped under the thin fabric, brushing against your already slick folds, you felt like you were losing control.

you stroked him faster, your hand moving in rhythm with the way his fingers worked you, and the sounds of your shared pleasure filled the room, soft gasps and moans as the tension between you both built higher and higher.

but then you wanted more. you needed more.

without a word, you slid down under the covers, your body moving lower until your face was level with his hips. nicholas’s eyes darkened as he watched you, anticipation and desire written all over his face.

you pulled the sheets down, revealing his cock fully in the dim light of the room. it was glistening with pre-cum, hard and throbbing, and you couldn’t resist licking your lips before leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to the tip.

nicholas groaned, his hand tangling in your hair as you slowly wrapped your lips around the head, swirling your tongue in slow, teasing circles before taking him deeper into your mouth. his hips jerked slightly, and you could feel him fighting to keep control, to not thrust too hard into your mouth.

you bobbed your head, taking him deeper each time, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked him, your hand stroking the base of his cock in time with your movements. each groan, each little gasp he let out only spurred you on, made you want to push him further, to see just how far you could take him.

his hips started to move in rhythm with your mouth, gentle thrusts as you sucked him harder, faster, his cock pulsing in your mouth.

nicholas’s breath became ragged, his grip in your hair tightening as he tried to maintain some semblance of control. you could feel him getting closer, the tension in his body building with every stroke of your hand and every flick of your tongue. his low, breathless groans echoed in the room, each one sending a surge of heat through you.

you took him deeper, your lips stretching around the thick length of him as you sucked harder, faster. your tongue swirled over the sensitive tip, tasting the salty pre-cum that leaked out, and you hummed softly, the vibrations making him groan louder. his hips bucked slightly, and you could feel him throbbing against your tongue, so close to the edge.

“fuck… i’m gonna—” nicholas’s voice was strained, his breath coming in shallow pants as he struggled to keep control. but you didn’t stop. if anything, you pushed him further, bobbing your head faster, taking him as deep as you could, feeling the way his cock twitched in your mouth.

his fingers tightened in your hair as he let out a low, broken moan, his hips jerking as he finally lost control. with a sharp gasp, nicholas came hard, his release spilling into your mouth. you swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of him as you sucked him through his orgasm, not stopping until his body shuddered and his grip on your hair loosened.

slowly, you pulled back, letting his softening cock slip from your mouth as you sat up, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. nicholas lay back against the pillows, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. his eyes were dark, still clouded with desire as he looked at you, a lazy smile spreading across his face.

“jesus christ,” he muttered, running a hand through his tousled hair. “you’re… unbelievable.”

you grinned, crawling back up the bed to lay beside him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “glad you liked it,” you teased, your voice low and breathless. your body was still buzzing with the thrill of what you’d just done, and the heat between your thighs hadn’t dissipated. you wanted more. you wanted him.

nicholas turned onto his side, pulling you close, his hand sliding down to your thigh. “oh, i more than liked it,” he murmured against your lips, his fingers tracing the edge of your panties. “but now it’s your turn.”

you shivered at his words, your body already responding to the promise of what was to come.

taglist: @hockeyboysarehot @stopnala @slavicangelmuah

[applcrumbl]

Joy Rider

The Morning After*

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Original Female Character Warnings: Mentions of Sex and Nudity, smut, Strong Language, Mention of alcohol, Underage Drinking, Canon-level violence. Word Count: 1.3k (I’m new to this again) Author’s Note: Lol OBX4? I may be back baby

Summary: JJ and Reader wake up in the same bed. Naked.

Traditionally, The Chateau was a place of quiet. Seldom did they party within its four walls. Opting to take their mishaps elsewhere in favour of the opportunity to retire to their favourite house of warm wood. Whether a full island kegger or a small gathering for beer on the beach, the Pogues always found themselves back in John B’s home at the end of the night.

This night was like no other.

A night at Kildare’s annual bonfire, Kook’s and Pogues mixing as much as their societal pride would let them. JJ Maybank watches as his friend parades around the beach, talking to everyone who would welcome her. A foot on each side of the grass. A finger in both pies. A Kook, and a Pogue

He watched her as she perused the crowd, beckoning her over as she got close. The smell of lager lingered on JJ’s breath as he leaned in. Not that he would remember it.

It has been a long time coming, in all meanings of the phrase, as JJ’s hips snapped to the back of Arden’s thighs.

“Yeah, you like that?” He asks, his hands gripping tightly to the flesh of her hips. The 

Chateau is quiet, save for the sound of skin on skin, and the headboard on the wall.

JJ’s hands wander, one up her spine, pushing her down into the bed. He can’t help but savour the feeling of her soft skin as he drives himself deeper into her. 

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” JJ pants, “Let me hear ya.”

“Jay-” She whines.

Sweat drips down his face, mixing with the sheen of arousal on her skin. The room fills with the smell of sex and the taste of the liquor on their breath.

“I’m gonna- Fuck” He stutters, pulling her from the bed and back into his chest as he finishes, holding her flush against his sweat-slicked body as he rides out the aftershocks of his intense orgasm. 

JJ collapses on the bed next to her. His head spins from the alcohol, but also, and more likely, the excitement and adrenaline one gets when fucking their best friend.

She, feels the same, except also with an ache between her legs as she clamps them together. She looks at him and allows her drunken eyes to wander down his body, back to his semi-erect cock. She reaches out, fingers tracing down his torso and to the, truthfully decent-sized, appendage. 

JJ hums, as she begins to stroke. “Never took you to be the kind of guy that would leave a girl hanging.” She teases as he firms again in her grip.

Her voice is slurred still, and if they both had been sober, this would never have happened. JJ was somewhat thankful for the Kooks then, and his best friend’s ability to sneak them both free drinks from their expensive coolers, as he rolled back on top of her, kissing down her neck and chest, all the way to her core.

…

She was awoken by gentle snoring. Very different to the usual sound of the bamboo windchimes she had in her own room. The telltale sign that she’d slept in the spare room at The Chateau. Although her bare hips, accompanied by the mop of blond next to her, suggested that she hadn’t slept alone.

In one way she was glad it was not her own bed, the windchimes would be killer with the headache she had right then. But, on the other, those chimes meant she wouldn’t have slept with some random stranger. Her eyes scan the boy’s back before she peers over his shoulder, finally unmasking the face that made a notch on her bedpost.

“JJ?” She questions aloud, fear dousing her tone.

A blue eye peeks open, “Hey,” he says.

“Did we..”

“Yeah”

He’s fully upright now, leaning confidently against the headboard. A sly smirk itching to appear on his lips. He fights it back once he registers the shock and embarrassment on his best friend’s face.

“Are you sure?” She asks, not quite believing the situation.

JJ’s hand lifts the duvet covering them, peering down at his own nude frame “Uh, pretty sure.”

She shuffles in the bed, moving to its foot. The duvet pulled high up over her shoulders, shading herself from JJ’s eyes. It’s quiet for a moment before they both speak.

“I’m sorry-” “It shouldn’t”

“Oh sorry, you go first.” she apologises, unable to quite meet his eye.

“It’s fine,” He replies, “you go.”

She wastes no time in getting to the point.

“It shouldn’t have happened.”

JJ looks to her, a small ‘oh’ in his expression. He turns away as quickly as he looked. Hands fidgeting the corner of the comforter. 

She continues, “We’ll just forget about it. No Pogue on Pogue macking.”

He nods, “Yeah. Sure.”

Neither look at the other, a tension settling in the air. Thick, warm, and merging with the smell of sex from the night before.

“What were you going to say?”

“Nothing.” JJ lies, licking the front of his teeth. “It’s just that you jumped to the offence really quickly there.”

Her face contorts. An expression of confusion.

“Why?” He continues.

“What do you mean, why?”

“It was like you regretted it.” He accuses, eyes finally meeting hers as she sat at the foot of the bed. The farthest she could get with her current lack of clothes.

She confesses, not understanding why her best friend wasn’t agreeing with her “I did- I do.”

“No like properly,” JJ starts, “Not like you regretted what happened, more like you regretted that it was with me.”

A twang of insecurity, which Y/N caught. He was embarrassed, but not by the situation, more because she’d made him feel that way. A different kind of guilt rose through her throat.

“Oh no I didn’t mean against you,” She rambles, doing her best to excuse and comfort, “You’re fine, great! I mean not like it was bad, - mean it wasn’t - we’re friends.”

“Friends,” He huffs, a ringing behind his eyes, “But you’re sitting at the opposite end of the bed.”

“Because I’m naked.”

“We just had sex.” He deadpans.

“Exactly!”

The room grows quiet again, both teens watching for a change in expression from the other. Anything readable. Something to help them understand.

It doesn’t come.

“Okay. Friends.”

“Friends.”

“Friends who just happened to have sex.”

Silence once more. JJ looks away as she slides from the comfort of the bed, and into her underwear from the night before. Her clothes reek of booze, the smell almost making her sick - but anything is more comfortable than nude right now.

She goes to leave so that JJ can do the same.

“Reef-”

“Don’t call me that.” She snaps, not fully meaning to. It takes JJ aback.

“But I always call you that?”

“I know. But, like-” She turns to him. JJ stands in his boxers, it’s no different to when she’s seen him in boardshorts, but the simple connotations of his current outfit turn her face bright red. “-Not now.”

“Not now?”

“Not after this.”

JJ’s hands run through his hair and down his face. The blond had become even more shaggy than it had been made the night before. Her hand is still on the door, ready to go.

“I’m not gonna stop being your friend just ‘cos we ‘did it’?”

“I’m not saying that.”

JJ huffs, “You kinda are!”

“Not.”

“Are.”

“Okay.” She finalises, tired of the conversation. “I’m just going to leave.”

“Whatever.” JJ states, not the answer she expected to hear. She waits a moment with the door open, thinking of a snide exit line. But ultimately, she just leaves it, closing the door gently behind her - so as not to wake the rest of the sleeping chateau.

JJ however, has no disregard for his fellow sleeping Pogues as his fist hits the wall in anger. The paintings rattle a bump with the action, and JJ throws himself back on the unmade sheets.

masterlist | taglist

[lwyikas]

When you know,you know ft Suna Rintarou

when your friend ask how you can know a person is “right one for you”

“He is not reading my messages for 5 hours and then i’m the one who not shows enough interest!” Even if the situation is not funny against your friend’s rebellion you laugh quietly.

”Don’t you think its time for dump him already?” She groaned and puts her head to table”But i don’t want to,you can not understand me”

“Hey i was just trying to help!”Then you feel muscular arms around your neck from behind and a kiss comes to your cheek.You turn your head little and see your Rintarou.

“hey beautiful”he sits next to you and he throws his arm on your shoulder.Then he look at your friend who look at you two with hopeless eyes.

”you two give me nausea”

He rolls his eyes and smiles”It’s not our fault that you always choose wrong boys,another failed situationship huh?”While she gives death stares to him, you smack his arm with angry look.He coughs and tries hold his smile”I mean at least i should thank those boys they teach me what I shouldn’t do in a relationship”

You smile too but not because of his comments.He plays your hairtips,he bends over and rubs his nose on your hair.Two years and still this boy makes you nervous as hell,same goes for him too.

“How you can know someone is right person?”You both end “adoring each other activity “ look at other and blinks and thinking her question.

“What you mean?”You ask when you try not to let the hand in your waist break your focus

“When i got crush every time i think they’re right one and then ends up i’m a idiot”She tells while looking at you two.”If Suna wiseacre that much ,he can explain, right?”

“Eee-Alright then”Rintarou look at you, thinks.

When did he know?

Was it the first time he saw you?Hell no. It wasn’t love at first sight. Your first conversation was when you poured hot coffee on him in lunch. we can’t say that he has absolutely positive feelings for you that time (but he’s still grateful for that accident for meeting you)or maybe It was when you helped him in most kind way, you was running around for a napkin, when you tried to dry his clothes by shaking book even though he told you it’s okay, maybe he wasn’t in love, but he thought it was quite funny.He still reminds you that day and annoys you

Maybe it was when he sees you play with cats in school way(You were almost always scolded for being late class)or when teacher changed seats and made you sit next to him instead your friends(it was because you talk too much but how could teacher know she will make quiet boy her lover?).

He was not a person who read a lot of books, he usually does his homework last day, he would put his head and sleep when he couldn’t stand history(he hates Geography too). There were times when he didn’t sleep, and these times those green eyes would always be on you.He can’t say that he fell in love the moment he saw you, but as he got to know you, he always wanted to see you and talk to you.

He did take things really slow.According to him,It’s like a building; if the building blocks are solid, it will be very difficult to be demolished..(Also he has zero skills and he didn’t know how to ask for a date but with the advice of his mother and osamu ,how good they are is debatable, he managed to handle the situation.)

In fact, he had many core memories with you, first date, first hug, first kiss and many more things that make up building blocks of his love for you. As an inexperienced young boy, because you are every first ,he was afraid to do something wrong, but you were always by his side. It was not something that happened with time or suddenly to notice his love for you. He may not social butterfly and not best at communication, but it doesn’t make sense to doubt this handsome asshole is right person because he is always looking at you with loving eyes.

He turned to you from little chaos in his mind with your hand swaying in front of his eyes.”Rin you here?”You were both waiting for his answer. Oh what was question?

He could talk about you for hours, but he doesn’t like to prolong the talk so after leaving a kiss on your hair,he turns to her:

“when you know,you know”

[crescenthistory]

and what about it?

Summary: Continuation of this storyline. Barty and you keep bickering, to everyone's chagrin and no one's surprise – until you kiss, that is.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: not proofread, use of y/n, absolute chaos going down, bickering, flirting, barty being maniacal and a bit masochistic, jegulus and wolfstar as supportive characters, literally everyone is silly in this

Note: you demand and i supply! i love these idiots

next part here!

The Hogwarts library was filled by a mix of quiet whispers and faint shuffling, with students huddled at tables pretending to study for the upcoming exams. In the very back, though, far away from the more studious lot, the Marauders and company had claimed their usual table, where studying was more of a suggestion than an actual plan.

James and Regulus sat closest to the end of the long table, side by side in that annoyingly close way that proved they were still very much in their honeymoon phase. James had his chair tilted back, arms stretched out casually behind Regulus, while Regulus, with an almost imperceptible smile, tried to look like he was paying attention to his Potions book.

“You know, love,” James started, leaning in a little closer to Regulus, “you don’t actually have to study right now. We could always… take a break.”

“Take a break from what exactly?” Sirius interjected, still hunched over the parchment he was doodling on. “You haven’t done a single productive thing in the last hour, Prongs.”

James huffed, but didn’t move away from Regulus, who was still pretending he couldn’t hear any of them. “I don’t see you doing any work, Pads.”

Sirius glanced at his doodles – an elaborate sketch of a Quidditch goal post being struck by lightning – before smirking. “This is art, mate. Very productive.”

Remus, who was sitting beside Sirius and perhaps the only one taking actual notes, sighed without looking up. “You two are hopeless. Some of us are actually trying to pass our exams.”

“Oh, Moony, live a little,” Sirius grinned, pushing his sketch toward him. “What do you think? Could sell this to the Daily Prophet, right?”

Remus didn’t even spare it a glance. “Absolutely not.”

Across the table, you were trying your best to focus on the notes in front of you, quill scratching against parchment. But the conversation around you, mixed with the ongoing flirtation between James and Regulus, was doing its best to pull you out of your concentration.

“Regulus, would you mind being disgustingly in love with Jamie a bit quieter?” you groaned, tossing your quill down in frustration, no longer inhibited around Regulus after the past few months. “Some of us are trying to focus.”

Regulus did not deign you with a glance, though his lips quirked up slightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sirius snorted. “Yeah, right. You’ve been staring at Prongs like he’s your favourite broomstick all day. You two are worse than me when I got my new motorbike.”

“Oh, don’t act like you weren’t gushing about that motorbike for literal months,” James fired back, a grin spreading across his face. “This is karma, mate.”

Before Sirius could come up with a retort, you shot another glare at James and Regulus, feeling your patience wearing thin. “I swear, if I have to witness one more doe-eyed moment between you two, I’m hexing you both.”

Barty, who had been uncharacteristically quiet up until now, leaned back in his chair beside you, smirking. “What did love ever do to you, Treasure?”

You shot him an unimpressed look. “It's quite obnoxious, for one.”

Barty grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. “Don't you want to be obnoxiously in love?” he teased.

"I'd rather drink poison. Which I will, if you don't start focusing on our potions project soon." You rapped the textbook in front of him with your quill.

“Oh, come now, darling, you know I'd never do that to you,” Barty teased, lowering his voice in that infuriatingly smug way. “And there's no need to be jealous of Reggie – you could have all this romance if you wanted.”

You fixed him with a deadpan look. “With you? I’d rather go mad.”

“Already driving you mad, am I?” Barty shot back smoothly, leaning in just enough to make the air between you shift. “I must be doing something right.”

Sirius let out a loud, exaggerated groan from across the table. “Merlin, can you two ever go five minutes without throwing insults at each other?”

“No,” you and Barty said in unison, which earned a laugh from Remus and an eye roll from Sirius.

“I think they secretly like it,” James chimed in, finally pulling his attention away from Regulus just long enough to catch the tail end of your and Barty’s exchange. “You know, some people just communicate through bickering. It's their language.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at James. “I don’t bicker. He bickers. I’m just trying to survive.”

“You wound me,” Barty said, pressing a hand to his chest with mock hurt. “And here I thought you enjoyed our little chats.”

“If by ‘chats’ you mean listening to you go on and on about how brilliant you think you are, then sure,” you shot back, arching an eyebrow. “I live for those.”

“I am brilliant, though,” Barty replied, completely unfazed, his smirk growing even wider. “You’ve just yet to admit it.”

You snorted. “The only thing brilliant about you is your ability to push my buttons, when we should be studying, Junior.”

“No need to study when we both know I'll ace it regardless." You hated that he was right. "I prefer putting in the work where it matters."

You quirked a brow at him. “Sounds like laziness to me.”

“It's called priorities,” he corrected, eyes gleaming with amusement. “And right now, my priority is sitting right in front of me.”

The groan that escaped your lips was loud enough to draw the attention of a few nearby students, but you couldn’t care less. “You’re insufferable.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“Because it’s true.”

“And yet, you keep sitting next to me. Interesting.”

Sirius, clearly unable to help himself, let out another exaggerated sigh. “Merlin, they’re at it again. Can someone put a Silencing Charm on them?”

Remus, who had been quietly enjoying the exchange, smiled into his notes. “I’d say just let them go. They’re only warming up.”

“You’re probably right,” Sirius agreed, glancing between you and Barty as if you couldn't hear him. “Let’s see how long it takes before one of them snaps.”

You rolled your eyes again. “Don't worry, Black, I’m already nearing my limit.”

“Then do something about it, love,” Barty purred, his grin turning devilish.

You leaned in slightly, narrowing your eyes. “I will, as soon as I figure out which hex will shut you up for good.”

Before he could retort, you flicked your wand under the table, sending a tiny jolt toward him that caused him to yelp and jerk back, the smirk dropping from his face momentarily.

James burst out laughing, nearly toppling over his chair. “Oh, that was brilliant.”

Regulus, who had been watching the whole thing with a half-hidden smile, shook his head. “She's going to kill him one day.”

“That’s the plan,” you muttered under your breath, though a small, victorious smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

Barty, however, recovered quickly, his smirk returning full force. “Oh, you love me too much to kill me.”

"I tolerate you at best, Junior."

"Same difference."

"I really don't think it is," James interjected, seemingly lost as his usual role of peacekeeper doesn't work with you and Barty.

"Oh, you just don't know her like I do." Barty's eyes gleamed as he stared at you.

The glare you shot him then was half-hearted at best. “Don’t push it.”

"You know I will," Barty said and winked at you, before closing the small distance between you to press a chaste peck to your lips.

It was quick, casual, and without any fanfare, just a soft press of lips, like it was the most natural thing in the world – because to you it was. You simply hummed into him before finally turning your head down back towards your notes with a satisfied smile, happy for the distracting conversation to be over.

"Excuse me what?!"

You hadn't even spent more than a second looking at your notes before you were interrupted by Sirius's voice.

You looked up to find everyone staring at you.

James had gone completely still, his mouth hanging open in an almost comical expression of shock. Regulus was blinking rapidly, as if trying to process what had just happened, while Sirius had frozen mid-doodle, his quill still in the air.

The only person who wasn’t shocked was Remus, who had broken into quiet, knowing laughter, clearly enjoying the chaos that was about to unfold.

“Wait– wait– hold on a second,” James finally sputtered, pointing between the two of you. “Did you just– did I just see–?”

"Use your words, Potter," Barty drawled out, eyeing the scene with interest.

“You two are– what?!” Sirius repeated, still frozen with his quill in the air. His eyes were practically bulging out of his head as he stared at you and Barty like you had just sprouted tentacles.

Barty, completely unfazed, leaned back in his chair with the most satisfied grin imaginable, casually crossing his arms behind his head. “Dating. Obviously.”

“Obviously?” James sounded like he might actually choke on the word. His glasses were sliding down his nose from the sheer force of his shock. “Obviously?!”

You shrugged, flipping through your notes like nothing at all had just happened. “Yeah. Why are you all acting like this is news?”

“Because it is!” Sirius threw his quill down dramatically, turning fully in his chair to gawk at you both. “Since when are you two... together?”

You exchanged a glance with Barty, who looked more amused than anything. “I dunno,” you said nonchalantly, “a few weeks, maybe?”

“A few weeks?!” James spluttered, his voice going up at least two octaves. He ran a hand through his already disastrous hair, looking utterly dumbfounded. “How– how did none of us know this?”

Barty gave an infuriatingly casual shrug, his smirk only growing wider. “Wasn’t exactly a secret. You lot were just too wrapped up in your own business to notice.”

“Too wrapped up?!” James looked at Regulus, as if his boyfriend might have some hidden answer to this impossible puzzle. Regulus, to his credit, had his head buried in his hands, looking both embarrassed and quietly amused. “Reggie, you didn’t notice?”

Regulus groaned, his face still hidden. “I noticed. I just didn’t want to talk about it.”

Sirius gaped at his brother. “You knew?”

“Well, I guessed, they're not exactly subtle,” Regulus muttered, still hiding behind his hands. “They bicker like they’re married.”

Remus, who had been laughing quietly this whole time, finally spoke up, his voice full of smug amusement. “He’s right, you know. The bickering should’ve been a dead giveaway.”

“Oh, come on,” James said, throwing his hands in the air. “Bickering is just– bickering! We bicker all the time! I bicker with Sirius – doesn’t mean I’m secretly dating him!”

“I should hope not,” Sirius muttered, still looking completely thrown. “You’re not my type.”

James blinked at him, momentarily sidetracked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Sirius said quickly, waving it off. “Focus, James! The issue here is this.” He gestured wildly between you and Barty. “This... thing they’ve apparently been doing under our noses for weeks.”

"I really think you lot are overreacting," you said, giving everyone a half-glare.

“I can't believe you kissed,” James said, as if just remembering it. “I mean... you kissed. Right there. In front of us. Our Y/N and Junior. Like it's no big deal.”

“It's not” you said, giving him a pointed look. “It’s called a relationship, Potter. People kiss in them.”

James shook his head, looking more confused than ever. “But you two have been acting the same as always! You don't even like each other! Actually, scratch that, you hate each other.”

Barty looked far too pleased with himself as he leaned forward again, resting his elbows on the table. “Oh, darling, you really don't know anything, do you?” he teased at the same time as you said, "And what about it?"

Sirius made a noise somewhere between a gag and a groan. “Ugh, stop. Just stop. This is making me nauseous.”

Remus was practically in tears now, wiping at his eyes as he continued to laugh. “This is... the best thing that's happened today.”

James looked positively ready to combust. "I am so confused." Regulus elbowed Sirius when he whispered what's new?

Barty leaned back again, his grin never faltering. “It's not our fault you were just too busy snogging Reggie here to notice.”

James immediately went red, and Regulus shot Barty a glare, though his lips were twitching with barely suppressed amusement. “Shut up.”

“Oh no, don’t let them turn this around on us,” Sirius cut in, pointing dramatically at you and Barty. “You two are the ones that have been lying this whole time!”

“We weren’t lying,” you said, your tone exasperated now. “You never asked. It’s not our fault you didn’t notice.”

Remus snorted. “To be fair, you do literally nothing to make it obvious. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were just flirting through arguments.”

“We are flirting through arguments,” Barty said matter-of-factly, earning a sharp look from you.

You jabbed a finger at him, narrowing your eyes. “We are not.”

“We definitely are,” Barty fired back, looking far too pleased with himself. “You think of new ways to insult me every day, and I’ve never been more in love.”

There was an audible groan from Sirius. “Merlin’s beard, I am begging you to stop.”

James had dropped his head to the table by now, shaking it slowly like he couldn’t believe what was happening. “I can’t even process this. I need to lie down. Reg, tell me this isn’t happening.”

Regulus patted James awkwardly on the back. “It’s happening.”

Sirius threw his hands up in the air, officially reaching peak exasperation. “I feel betrayed. Absolutely betrayed. All these weeks – months, even – and no one thought to mention, ‘Oh hey, by the way, Barty and Y/N are snogging’?”

"Shagging," Barty corrected, to which you fully slapped his arm and Regulus winced.

“Disgusting.”

You sighed, resting your chin in your hand. “I don't know what to tell you, Siri. It never came up.”

“Never came up?!” James lifted his head from his hands, looking utterly scandalised. “You’ve been dating for weeks and it never came up?”

“We didn’t feel the need to announce it to the world,” you shot back, now fully irritated with how much of a fuss they were making over this. “We were kind of busy with, you know, being in a relationship.”

“Exactly,” Barty chimed in, his grin back in place. “We were busy... prioritising.”

Regulus, still looking a little embarrassed but clearly entertained, shook his head. “You two are unbelievable.”

Sirius, ever the dramatist, leaned back in his chair, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I give up. Absolutely give up. The world makes no sense anymore.”

“Was it ever making sense to you to begin with?” Remus asked dryly, glancing over at him with a raised brow.

“Not the point, Moony,” Sirius muttered, still looking entirely put out. 

Barty shrugged again, looking far too relaxed considering the chaos he’d just unleashed. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I will never get used to this,” Sirius shot back, glaring at Barty like he’d personally offended him.

James let out a long, dramatic sigh, slumping against the table. “I need a drink.”

“And I need new friends,” Sirius added, still shaking his head.

"What you need is to calm down," you muttered under your breath. Sirius's gasp told you that he heard you.

“I’m sorry for wanting to know when one of our friends is secretly dating a complete maniac.”

“Complete maniac?” Barty echoed, feigning hurt. “That’s harsh, Black. I prefer charming rascal.”

“I prefer punchable face." It would have been less convincing if you weren't smiling, leaning more and more into Barty's touch.

He grinned down at you and winked. “You can punch me anytime you wish, Treasure. Make sure it bruises, ‘kay?"

“Oh, enough!” James looked like he might actually lose his mind at this point. “You’ve been complaining about me and Reg, but you two are so much worse.”

Remus, ever the voice of reason, shook his head with a faint smile. “Just let them be. This is obviously how they work. I’m sure we’ll all get used to it eventually.”

James and Sirius exchanged a look that clearly said we absolutely will not, but neither of them said anything. Instead, James let out a long, tired sigh and stood up, ruffling his hair as if to shake off the mental exhaustion of the day. “Right, I need a break from this madness. I’m going to the kitchens. Anyone want to come?”

“Definitely,” Sirius muttered, standing up as well. “I need some food to process this... tragedy.”

Regulus chuckled softly, standing to follow them. “I’ll come with you. Though I’m still not sure why you’re so shocked.”

The boys kept bickering and mumbling between them as they hastily gathered their things, while you made a sound between a scoff and a laugh, leaning into Barty. 

“Thank you for this gift,” Remus teased before throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “They will never recover it seems.”

You shook your head, but couldn’t help but smile at how much Remus had enjoyed the chaos. “You’re a bit sadistic, Lupin.”

“Only when it’s deserved,” Remus replied with a wink.

Barty stretched his arms behind his head, looking far too relaxed given the absolute meltdown that had just taken place. “Well, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way... care to finish that kiss?”

You shot him a glare, though your lips twitched upward. “You’re lucky I don’t leave you after the drama you’ve caused me.”

Barty grinned. “You wouldn’t dare. You like me too much.”

“You know, the fact that you two are dating somehow makes your bickering worse,” Remus said, still within airshot.

“We aim to please.”.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. “Come on, let’s get out of here before Sirius comes back with his 'and another thing's”

Barty stood up, offering you a hand with a smirk. “As you wish, Treasure.”

You took his hand, but not without giving him a playful shove as you walked past him. “Keep talking, and I might change my mind.”

“I’d still win you over,” he replied, completely confident.

As you walked off together, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but think that maybe this chaos wasn’t such a bad thing after all. After all, you had Barty, and you were both having far too much fun watching everyone lose their minds over it.

[beomiracles]

for kinktober: yeonjun + knife/gun play if you’re feeling it :3

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

DAY 16 : CHOI YEONJUN + KNIFEPLAY DARK CONTENT — “Don’t worry, I promise to take care of you this time”, he murmurs, brows furrowed as he lets the flat of the blade press against your naked skin.

Knife play is a form of consensual BDSM edgeplay involving knives, daggers, and swords as a source of physical and mental stimulation. 

pairings yandere-ex!yeonjun x fem!reader warnings heavy yandere themes, dub-con, kissing, vaginal fingering, hints at previous abuse, knife play but it’s also used as a threat, reader has sort of an internal crisis !

#serene adds ✎ I love this one, even though I'm not too sure just how big the actual knife play part is.. >-<

EVENT POST

“Are you scared?” 

The question was rhetorical, you could tell by the low and menacing drawl of his lips. Still you shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat as you try to calm your nerves. Your small objection makes his face twist into a sour grimace as Yeonjun draws in closer. The sharp knife glints under the pale moon when he brings it to your throat, its sharpened edge resting just above your palpable pulse, blood flowing beneath your warm skin. 

He towers over you, his expression dark as his body cages yours against the cold and rough brick wall. Your eyes flicker down the narrow and vacant alleway, the last bit of hope you’d clung onto flushing out onto the pavement along the heavy rainfall. — You hadn’t heard from him in months, you thought that you were finally rid of him, that you were finally safe. 

But as soon as you’d let your guard down, he appeared. It was as if he’d been waiting for you to slip up, to make a mistake, and you had. Fuck you should’ve asked Soobin to follow you home, but you didn’t want to bother him, and it was late.. One act of kindness had led to one of malice as your ex-boyfriend cornered you, seemingly out of nowhere as he appeared from the shadows. 

“I think you should drop the knife.” You try your hardest to sound calm, as if you were talking to a slightly delirious and insane person, but Yeonjun was. His lips curl into something halfway of a smile and a smirk, you couldn’t quite place it, but it made him look uncanny. The sharp silver is firm against your throat and you find it hard to breathe. "Yeonjun, I'm serious..” But there’s a shaky edge to your voice, and you know he can pick up on it. 

“Baby. I don’t get it..” His brows furrow, the inside of his cheek caught between his teeth as the knife drops from your neck. “Thought you liked this, us, I mean”, he continues, his free hand traveling down your side before coming to rest on your hip. — You go to shake your head once more but quickly stop when you catch his expression. 

“We.. It just wasn’t right, okay?” You try to make it sound as painless as possible, choosing to leave out the details of the hell he’d put you through. Yeonjun shakes his head, readjusting the grip on the knife as his eyes snap back to yours. “I’ll make it right”, he states and before you have the chance to question him, does he connect your lips in a desperate kiss. 

You try to push him back, nails clawing at his chest but it’s to no avail. “We can go back to how things used to be”, he breathes against you, tongue invading your mouth and you gasp. Sure Yeonjun had gone to extreme lengths over the past six months in order to get you back, but this was a whole new level. And as the dull end of the knife slides up your thigh, you let out a terrified scream against his lips. 

“No, no, no, shh”, he hushes you with a hand on your mouth, eyes darting around the alleway anxiously before they return to you. “I would never hurt you baby.” The phrase is all too familiar and your stomach draws into knots. Still, your hands give up on pushing him away, instead they anchor themselves in his shirt as you exhale. 

He flips the blade, using the pointy tip to slice through your long dress as he creates a makeshift slit in the fabric. “Don’t worry, I promise to take care of you this time”, he murmurs, brows furrowed as he lets the flat of the blade press against your naked skin. The cool sensation sends shivers through your body and you shudder. 

“Just like how it used to be”, he repeats to himself as his hand dips beneath the waistband of your panties, fingers slipping down to part your folds as he drags them along your cunt. You know you should stop him, call the cops, have him locked up, make him go away. So why couldn’t you, why did you let him do this? 

The knife now rests against your chest, his grip on it is lazy as he focuses on his fingers inside your weeping cunt, eyes glued to the scene of them disappearing before withdrawing covered in slick. You could easily take it from him, overpower him, he was weak when it came to you. But you don’t. 

Instead you let your head fall back against the brick behind you, a shallow moan passing through your lips as your nails dig into the apex of his shoulders. “See, I always make you feel so good”, Yeonjun hums as he slides a third finger inside, curling it along with the others as he pulls a small cry from you. 

He seems to regather focus as he grips the knife firmly again, letting it trace along your exposed collarbone, watching with great fascination as you shudder in both fear and arousal. 

Perhaps you liked his sadistic ways, perhaps that's why you let him terrorize you like this. Perhaps that was why you had yet to report him to the police, why you’d let this go on for six months.. Did you crave the validation he gave you? Or were you in love with the idea of being loved by him? You didn’t know, you didn’t want to think about it for either thought scared the living daylights out of you. 

“I love you, you know that?” He whispers, his fingers slowing to a more gentle pace as he momentarily withdraws to play with your soaked folds, briefly flicking over your clit, relishing in the way you moaned against him. It was all the confirmation he needed, it was what he needed to keep longing for you for another eternity. 

You weren’t in love with him, but you couldn’t imagine a life without him.

kinktober taglist (send an ask to be added) — @sweetpotatogyu @aduh0308 @joieouioui @inkigayocamman @bambammtori @hkplushier @gyusoulz @eliluvsjjunie @velvetmoonlght @izzyy-stuff @hwanghyunjinismybae @lunathewritingcat @ninitorih @run4gyu @beestvng

© all rights reserved ─ @beomiracles 2024

[holy-reference-in-a-username]

if you have paid any attention to my ramblings on my process, you know that i tend to rethink my comics and toss out a lot of work if im not satisfied with how it turned out. so i thought id share some previews of comics that have gone unseen, and why they havent been posted (yet?) in order of how likely i am to finish and/or post them :)

(under cut bc long post)

Be nice to each other: Main 4. Tomtord/Polyworld, angst. 4 pages. Matt confronts Tom and Tord on how have been acting, accidentally compelling them into saying how they really feel.

Status: abandoned.

I drew this one quite a while ago and i still really like the dialogue and character interactions i wrote for it! vampire hypnosis is a super cool concept and im definitely going to use it in the future, but this ultimately didnt pan out how i wanted it to.

Why it's not posted: while the buildup and climax are really good, this would be a huge mess to clean up. this would require some serious work both between the four of them and on my part for writing and drawing all of that!! plus, it would totally change the relationship dynamic between Tom and Tord, possibly ending it altogether (and i still have so much i want to do with them!!!)

Ed and Edd: Eduardo, Edd, Eduardo's mother. No pairings, angst. 3 pages. Eduardo can't wait to introduce himself at school, but he's got competition for the name he chose.

Status: abandoned.

Trans Eduardo is such a good concept. imagine figuring out who you are only to find out someone else already is that. of course you're going to hate them.

Why it's not posted: two main reasons. one is that i couldn't figure out how to end the comic (a recurring theme lol), but another is that i'm still not super confident with writing Eduardo yet. ...or writing children. so kid Eduardo is a challenge.

Can't tell where you're looking: Tommatt, fluff. 3 pages. Tom isn't as sneaky as he thinks he is.

Status: on my list!

Tommatt fans, i have heard your pleas i have received your asks. it's on my list.

Why it's not posted: i had a great idea, drew several pages, thought about it, and decided it sucked, actually. it can be reworked, but my motivation did not get out unscathed.

Bad (?) Dream: Tomtord, uh.... yeah thats just smut huh. 2 pages. A bad dream for one and a good dream for the other.

Status: ???

I'm not saying SHIT.

Why it's not posted: originally, it was because i didn't want to post suggestive stuff on this blog. now, it's because i found better ways to cover the concepts in this comic. Y'all will simply have to wait and see ;)

Matt figures it out: Matt, Tom. could be Tommatt. hurt/comfort. a collection of random sketches. Matt figures out how to turn into a bat! It sucks!

Status: on my list!

I've been wanting to talk about this SOOOO BAD!!! because why would you transform in a second via a poof of smoke when it could be an hour-long painful disturbing process?! honestly could be described as hurt/comfort/hurt.

Why it isn't posted: well for one it barely counts as a comic, just random sketches and a general idea. to be fair thats how most of my comics start, but... you know. i havent worked on it in a while mainly because the characters need to solve some personal problems first.

Not tonight: Tordmatt. fluff/suggestive. 2 pages. Matt's got pointy ears again, and Tord knows what that means!

Status: on my list!

TORDMATT FANS I HAVE ALSO HEARD YOUR PLEAS! Also, yippee i get to infodump about my headcanons via a comic

Why it's not posted: unfinished, and i hit a bit of a road block. usually its in writing, but this time its in the art half! so i have no idea how to get around it yet!!!

Puberty sucks fr. imagine losing an eye: Tom, Tom's mother. no pairings. angst. 3 pages. When did Tom's eyes change?

Status: on my list!

You all remember the soul-crushing existential grief that started at the same time as puberty, right? No, just me? Huh.

Why it isn't posted: layout isn't quite what im looking for :/ also, a half-naked child on tumblr, even in a completely non-sexual context, is something i am slightly apprehensive about!

Something's wrong: Main 4. Polyworld, angst/suggestive. 20+ pages. Tom doesn't feel well. Edd, Matt, and Tord try to help.

Status: actively working on it

Oh, you guys remember that poll? Haha thats funny. Yeah i'm still working on this one.

Why it isn't posted: uh its not done yet. and also i am unsure of whether or not it will be allowed on tumblr. or whether or not i want people to speculate on my entire deal.

...and while i'm here:

Communication comic part 6: IN PROGRESS!! these idiots need to establish boundaries. all of them. i believe <3

Zombie Tord part 4: ON MY LIST! i want to get through the communication comic first :3

thank u for reading all my ramblings :D! i am so fucking excited to continue working on all of my dumb shit and i am so happy that ppl like said dumb shit

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt behind the cut for @this-was-a-terrible-idea; they gave me dealer's choice, so I picked "matchbox pockets". (( chrono || non-chrono ))

IV. Out. He doesn't actually know what's in the IV, so–out. 

He screws his eyes shut tighter and wraps his TTK around the needle; tries to grip it clumsily but carefully, and just . . . just . . . just it's small and delicate and his head feels all foggy and he–and he can't quite–

He wants it out. He needs the wires off and the tubes and needle out and god god god where is he and how'd he get here and why is he here and– 

He can't breathe. Can't concentrate. Can't fucking think. He–he needs to just think, he can't use his TTK if he can't think, he just–he just–

Something touches his face and he flinches and fucking hates himself for flinching even as his eyes snap open and flick around urgently and–and he doesn't know what–he doesn't see what–

Something makes a soft little sound, almost questioning and almost like a purr, and Superboy's eyes catch on something very small, crouched down low in the corner of his peripheral vision. It moves, just a little, and touches him. It's . . . 

“Uh?” is about the best Superboy can manage, and it comes out groggy and dazed, and the small little something straightens up just enough for him to actually see it, and it's . . . a Pocket. He blinks, slow and confused, and . . . it's a Pocket, yeah. 

It's a Pocket of–him, though? Except, like–it’s naked, not wearing his costume or even anything at all, and its coloring looks all pale and washed out and kind of like–he knows he's basically kinda just a shitty xerox of Superman, but he didn't think–that's not what he pictures when he pictures himself. 

. . . is it? 

But there's also–there's nobody else in the room, so whose Pocket even . . . ? 

The Pocket churrs very, very quietly and pats a hand high against his cheekbone. It looks worried and anxious and–and he doesn't . . . 

Is he actually seriously, genuinely pathetic and shallow and hard enough to put up with that he's his own damn soulmate? Is that actually even a thing that’s possible, as a thing? 

. . . . . . he's not, right? He's . . . he's not actually that bad, is . . . 

Oh, he realizes as his vision clears a little more, and he sees the weird tiny little tattoo over the Pocket's heart and realizes their coloring isn't just washed out, it's nonexistent. Like, borderline albino levels of it. Maybe even actual albino levels, though it's hard to tell and the Pocket doesn't have irises to go by, so . . . 

But this isn't actually him, either way. 

“Uh,” Superboy manages again, and swallows roughly. Nobody else is here, still, so . . . so whoever this is . . . “You–mine, little dude?” 

The Pocket churrs again and presses up against the side of his face and kinda–hugs him, kinda, and Superboy feels a weird tight twisting feeling in his gut about it and bites the inside of his cheek. So like . . . that's a yes, right? The little guy’s his? So . . . he has a soulmate, then. Right? Who's apparently another Superman attempt, which is . . . well, he would've figured he'd get a romantic soulmate if he got one, but it . . . kinda makes sense. Kinda. ‘Cuz like, he guesses them both being Superman clones would make them kinda . . . kinda like . . . family, right? 

But he's never even met the guy, whoever he is, so how can he already have a Pocket of him? Like–that's not normal, right? Not for normal soulmate bonds, anyway. Pockets only show up early, like, once in a fuckin’ blue moon. 

. . . maybe he's just gonna meet him really soon. Like–today levels of “soon”, probably. So . . . so he's definitely in a lab right now, yeah, and he doesn't know if it's Cadmus or S.T.A.R. or someplace else entirely, but . . . 

But he's got a soulmate, apparently. Which means he's apparently also, like . . . also got a soul, and all. Because he wouldn't have a soulmate if he didn't, right? Like–that wouldn't be a thing. 

So that's . . . definitely something he's tried not to worry about before.

[hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall]

Sweet past - ch.4

Summary: You have unwelcome encounter in town. Joel is there to save the day.

Pairing: dbf!Joel x reader

Warnings: mention of death, foul language, angst, a little fluff

Masterlist Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

You didn’t quite believe Joel when he told you the town hadn’t changed, not really. Why would you? Everything changes with time. People, places, memories—nothing is immune. And yet, here you were, standing in the very place you once called home, feeling a strange sense of awe, as if time itself had paused just for this town. As if Joel, once again, was right. That man could be infuriatingly right sometimes.

You smiled to yourself, nostalgia unfurling its delicate tendrils as you recalled simpler days. The way you used to take Sarah out for ice cream when her world had crumbled—something sweet to melt away the bitterness. And the gaming spot where you and your dad spent far too much money. It was almost jarring how vividly those moments returned to you now, as if they’d been waiting in the wings all along. And for once, there was no ache, no bitter aftertaste, no shadow waiting to consume the light. Just memories of a life before it all unraveled.

Maybe Joel wasn’t wrong, after all. Maybe the town hadn’t changed. Maybe it was you who had shifted, who had moved forward while Austin remained steadfast, untouched by the outside world. Time, here, didn’t flow—it lingered, settled like dust, giving the town a kind of stillness that was both eerie and beautiful. As if it existed in a bubble, outside the reach of the years that had reshaped you.

You pulled the list from your pocket, the paper worn and crumpled from being handled too many times, and walked into the small hardware store. You could’ve hired someone to do the work, of course, but your stubborn streak wouldn’t allow it. Even though you weren’t sure if you’d stay, the pull to restore that old house, to breathe life back into it, gnawed at you. It was as if you owed it to the past, to the woman your mother had been, to make it feel like home again.

The store itself hadn’t changed much either. Smaller than most, yet brimming with memories. You’d come here with Joel and your dad, pretending you knew the first thing about construction, but really just there to weigh in on wall colors. Of course, they’d always manage to convince you that the color already on the walls was perfect. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it—how easily they’d swayed you back then, like you were part of some inside joke you never quite understood.

“Look who’s back!” The voice was unmistakable, pulling you from your reverie. You glanced up to see Mark standing by the entrance, a broad grin spreading across his weathered face. He looked almost exactly the same, save for a few more strands of gray weaving through his hair. “Good to see you again, girl!” He gave you a friendly tap on the shoulder, the kind of gesture that didn’t ask too much but said plenty. Mark was never one for hugs, never one for emotional displays. His kindness was quieter, subtler.

“I’m just here to pick up some supplies,” you said, glancing around the store, trying to avoid the way his eyes softened as he looked at you.

“Let me guess, doing it all yourself?” He laughed, the sound deep and hearty, as if it was the most predictable thing in the world. “Stubborn as your old man.”

And there it was, the shift you’d been bracing for. You’d known this conversation was coming, though you had hoped to avoid it, at least for now. Mark’s voice grew gentler, more careful. “I’m sorry about him, kid. If you need help with anything—funeral arrangements, the house—we’re all here. You know that, right? This town’s family.”

You shifted on your feet, uncomfortable with the weight of his sympathy. “Thanks, Mark, but… I already buried him.”

The smile vanished from his face, replaced by something sharper, colder. “What do you mean, you already buried him?” His voice had an edge now, like you’d done something unthinkable.

“Well, I—” You hesitated, caught off guard. “I wanted to do it quickly. I buried him next to my mom. I thought that’s what he’d want.”

“There was no one there but you?” The disbelief in his voice felt like a slap.

You swallowed, feeling his judgment heavy on your chest. “Joel and the girls were there with me… They’ve always been there.”

“And you didn’t think anyone else in this town would want to say goodbye?” His tone sharpened, the anger rising in him like a storm gathering strength. “What’s wrong with you, girl? Your father was a part of this town, part of our lives. You didn’t think it was worth letting us say goodbye?”

“I didn’t think—”

“Of course you didn’t think!” He stepped forward, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. “Just like you didn’t think when you left him all alone!”

The accusation struck you, sudden and raw. You hadn’t expected this—especially not from Mark. You liked him, but this? This was too much. Something inside you broke open, all the emotions you’d been holding in threatening to spill out. You wouldn’t let him speak like this, not when he had no idea what really happened.

“What the hell do you know about any of this?” Your voice trembled with barely contained fury. You weren’t going to shout, but the venom in your words was unmistakable. “What do you know about why I left?”

“Your father was sick—”

“My father was a drunk!” The words ripped out of you, sharp and jagged. “Sure, the man you all knew was a great father, a pillar of this damn town. But after my mother died? That man disappeared. He became something else, something dark and cruel.”

Mark’s face faltered, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop.

“You think this town is some big, happy family?” You spat the words, anger burning in your throat. “Where the hell were you when he lost his job? When he started drinking himself into oblivion? When I had to drop out of college to support him? Where were you when he hit me on my damn birthday?”

Mark’s eyes widened, shock written all over his face.

“Yeah, I left. I had to. And do you think that decision doesn’t haunt me every single day? I’ve spent three years hating myself for it, for leaving him when he needed me most. But I lost my mom too, Mark. I lost everything, and then I lost him.” Your voice cracked, but you pushed through. “So don’t you dare stand here and judge me. Don’t you dare pretend you know what I went through or why I buried him alone with the people who actually mattered, with the people who were there when all of you disappeared.”

You didn’t realize your hands were shaking until you wiped away the angry tears, your grief and rage blending into something unbearable.

“I loved my father, despite everything. And I said goodbye to him in the only way I knew how. So back off. You don’t get to pretend you cared.”

Without waiting for his response, you turned on your heel and left the store, leaving your basket behind. You didn’t care about the eyes that followed you, or the whispers that began to stir as you pushed open the door. You barely even registered Joel standing outside, fury simmering just beneath the surface of his usually calm demeanor.

You were done with the town’s judgment. Done with pretending everything was okay.

This was your grief, your past. And no one had the right to tell you how to carry it.

**

The air outside the store was thick with tension, like the quiet before a storm. You could still feel your heart pounding in your chest, your hands trembling as you left the hardware store, leaving behind the sharp sting of Mark’s words. You barely registered Joel standing there, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, jaw clenched. He’d been listening, you realized. He’d heard everything.

You didn’t want to face him right now, didn’t want to deal with the flood of emotions that had just been unleashed in that store. You were too raw, too frayed at the edges. So you kept walking, past him, towards your car. Joel didn’t say anything at first, but you could feel the weight of his presence behind you, like the calm that presses down before a tornado hits.

As you reached for your car door, you heard his voice, low and controlled—but carrying an unmistakable anger. “I’ll be right back.”

You glanced over your shoulder, confused, but Joel was already heading into the store, the door swinging shut behind him with a sharp thud. You froze, your hand still on the door handle, the breath caught in your throat.

Inside the hardware store, the moment Joel stormed back in, the air felt different—thick, tense, like the calm had shattered and something heavy was about to drop. Mark was still standing by the counter, his face pale, his fingers gripping the edge as if trying to ground himself. A few people had lingered—curious bystanders, their faces etched with discomfort, though none of them had spoken up when you were being torn apart by Mark’s words.

Joel’s boots hit the wooden floor hard, each step deliberate, his anger palpable in the room. The soft hum of idle conversation had died down completely. The quiet whispers of the onlookers ceased, replaced by the deafening weight of Joel’s presence. He was a man on a mission, and anyone paying attention knew better than to get in his way.

Mark looked up just as Joel reached the counter, his brow furrowing in surprise. “Joel—”

But Joel didn’t let him finish. “What the hell were you thinkin’, talkin’ to her like that?” His voice wasn’t loud, but it was cold, low, and dangerous. He wasn’t shouting, but somehow that made it worse. More intense. He was furious, and everyone in the room could feel it.

Mark blinked, clearly caught off guard, but he tried to gather himself, holding up a hand as if to calm Joel down. “Look, Joel, I didn’t mean for it to go that far—”

“You didn’t mean for it?” Joel took a step closer, his hands curling into fists at his sides, his whole body taut with barely contained rage. “You think that matters? You think it makes a damn difference that you didn’t mean to humiliate her? You had no right to say what you said, Mark.”

Mark’s face flushed red, and he straightened, trying to regain some semblance of control. “I was just saying what a lot of us were thinking, Joel. Her father was a big part of this town. People wanted a chance to say goodbye. I thought she’d understand that.”

“You thought she’d understand?” Joel spat the word like it tasted bitter. “Do you even hear yourself right now? You think she owes you—owes this town—anything after what she’s been through? You weren’t there for her when she needed it most. None of you were.” He shot a pointed glance at the few onlookers who were still standing there, watching but not daring to intervene.

Mark’s eyes flicked to the others, his discomfort growing, but he still tried to defend himself. “That’s not fair, Joel. We didn’t know what was going on behind closed doors. We didn’t know how bad things had gotten.”

Joel’s eyes flared with fury. He stepped forward, so close now that Mark flinched slightly, backing up against the counter. “Didn’t know? Or didn’t want to know? You mean to tell me, in a town this small, no one noticed when her dad started drinkin’ himself half to death? No one saw her struggle to keep that house runnin’? You didn’t hear a thing when she dropped out of college? Or when she had to work her ass off just to keep food on the table?” His voice shook with anger, and his chest heaved with the weight of the words. “No, you all saw. You just didn’t give a damn. And now you wanna act like she’s the one in the wrong? Like she should’ve let you all play pretend at a funeral for a man you barely knew anymore?”

Mark’s face was turning a deep shade of red, and he opened his mouth to argue, but Joel cut him off again.

“You think you knew him, but you didn’t,” Joel growled, his voice low, dangerous. “You knew the man he was before—before her mom died, before he became a shell of himself. But the man she had to live with? He wasn’t the same. He wasn’t the good, kind man this town remembers. He was broken, Mark. And he took that out on her. Day after day.”

The tension in the room was suffocating. The bystanders shifted uncomfortably, some of them looking down at their feet, ashamed. Not one of them had spoken up earlier when you were being torn apart. They’d stood there, watched, but hadn’t said a word.

Mark opened his mouth again, struggling to find his footing in the face of Joel’s onslaught. “Joel, I get it, alright? I get that she’s been through a lot, but—”

“No, you don’t get it,” Joel said, his voice suddenly quieter, but no less intense. He leaned in, his eyes boring into Mark’s. “You don’t get what it’s like to lose the people you love and have no one to turn to. You don’t get what it’s like to be trapped in that house, with a man who used to be your father but turned into somethin’ you barely recognize. You don’t get what it’s like to feel abandoned by the people who claim to be your friends, your neighbors, your family.”

Mark’s breath hitched at Joel’s words, and for the first time, you could see the shame creeping into his features. He looked away, his eyes dropping to the floor, the guilt weighing heavy on his shoulders. “I didn’t know,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“You didn’t wanna know,” Joel corrected, his voice sharp. “It was easier to ignore, wasn’t it? Easier to just go about your day, pretend everything was fine. Because if you didn’t see it, you didn’t have to do anything about it.”

The room was so silent, you could hear the ticking of the old clock on the wall. The onlookers, those who had stayed to gawk, shifted uneasily. Some of them looked at each other, faces filled with regret, others unable to meet Joel’s gaze.

Joel turned to face them, his voice loud and clear, cutting through the silence like a knife. “You all think she owed you something? You think she should’ve come back here and made everything neat and tidy for your sake?” His eyes swept across the room, landing on each of them in turn. “Where the hell were you when she was barely keeping it together? Where were you when her dad was falling apart and she was left to pick up the pieces? You say this town’s a family, but you didn’t act like one when she needed you.”

The weight of Joel’s words settled over the room, heavy and inescapable. Some of the people looked away, unable to face him, shame and guilt etched into their features. Others simply stood in stunned silence, their faces pale, as if they hadn’t realized, until now, just how deeply they had failed.

Mark, his face flushed, swallowed hard and finally managed to speak, his voice trembling with the weight of his own guilt. “I’m sorry, Joel. I didn’t mean to… I didn’t realize…”

“It’s too late for apologies, Mark,” Joel said, his voice softer now, but no less firm. “She needed you then, and you weren’t there. Don’t think a few words can make up for that.”

Mark nodded slowly, his shoulders sagging under the weight of Joel’s words. “You’re right,” he said quietly, his voice thick with regret. “I should’ve done more. We all should’ve.”

Joel stared at him for a moment, his expression hard, unreadable. Then he took a step back, shaking his head, his anger cooling but still simmering beneath the surface. “You wanna make things right? Stop judging her. Stop thinkin’ she owes you anything. She’s been through enough without you piling more on her. You wanna help? Be there now. But don’t you dare act like she’s the one who’s done wrong here.”

Mark nodded again, his eyes glassy with remorse. “I will. I swear it.”

Without another word, Joel turned on his heel and walked toward the door, his jaw clenched, the anger still lingering in his movements. As he pushed open the door, the bell above it jingling softly, he glanced back one last time at the small group still standing in the store.

“Next time,” he said, his voice steady but full of warning, “if you see someone struggling, don’t just stand there and watch. Do somethin’.”

And with that, he left, the door swinging shut behind him, leaving the store in a heavy, oppressive silence. The weight of Joel’s words hung in the air long after he was gone, and the people in that room knew, deep down, that they would carry that weight for a long time to come.

**

Joel found you sitting in the driver's seat, your face pale, staring ahead at nothing. It was clear you’d heard enough of what had happened back inside the store, but you remained silent, lost somewhere between disbelief and exhaustion. He approached quietly, knocking on the passenger window. You blinked, slowly turning your head, your gaze finally meeting his.

“Move, kiddo,” he murmured, the anger that had burned so hot inside him now simmering into something softer, more familiar. His voice was calm, gentle, offering a warmth that made it clear he wasn’t just mad on your behalf—he cared. You frowned, confused, but Joel only nodded toward the seat. “You’re too emotional to drive. Move over, I’ll get us home.”

You hesitated for a second, then glanced down at your trembling hands. The adrenaline was still pumping through you, your heart racing, eyes glassy with unshed tears. With a shaky breath, you nodded, agreeing with him. Without a word, you got out and slipped into the passenger seat, barely glancing back at the store that had now become a site of confrontation and hurt.

Joel started the car, the engine humming beneath you as the town slowly faded into the distance. The silence between you stretched, but it wasn’t heavy. It felt... necessary. Like the words you wanted to say needed time to form properly.

“Thank you,” you whispered, breaking the quiet. Your voice sounded fragile, like it could crack at any moment. “For standing up for me.”

Joel glanced over, his expression softening as the fire that had been in his eyes earlier cooled into something protective, something safe. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said quietly, his voice low and sincere. “I’ll always stand up for you. Always.”

His words wrapped around you, warm and comforting, but they also stirred something deep inside, a part of you that was still trying to make sense of it all. You turned to the window, watching the familiar streets pass by, feeling like a stranger in the town that had once been your entire world. You couldn’t shake the ache in your chest, the gnawing sense of guilt that lingered despite everything Joel had said and done. Maybe not inviting anyone to the funeral had been a mistake, but it had been your decision—yours and Joel’s. Your goodbye, on your terms.

After what felt like forever, you noticed Joel had passed the turn to your house. Then, another. Your confusion grew, and you finally broke the silence.

“Where are we going?” you asked, glancing over at him.

He didn’t answer right away, his eyes focused on the road ahead. “I’m gettin’ hungry,” he muttered, rolling his eyes when he saw your puzzled expression.

Suddenly, a memory flashed in your mind—one of those moments from a time when things were simpler. A night that seemed like it belonged to another lifetime.

***

You didn’t know who else to call that night. The last bus had left just seconds before you made it to the station. It was the final nail in a day that had already gone terribly wrong. You’d been late for work, cleaning up after your dad’s drunken mess. He had been sick again, throwing up vodka from the night before, leaving you to deal with the aftermath.

Your boss hadn’t been any kinder about it either. The customers had been impatient, stingy with tips, and you were running on fumes, too tired to keep up. When your shift ended, your boss kept you late to clean—punishment for being late, even though it had only been by three minutes. You felt defeated, worn out from fighting battles no one knew about.

So, you called Joel. It was almost midnight, and the guilt gnawed at you for waking him up. You could hear the sleep in his voice, though he insisted he’d been watching a movie, playing it off as if he’d been wide awake. But you knew better.

When he pulled up, he didn’t ask questions. “Get in, kiddo,” he said, his voice gravelly but kind. You climbed into the passenger seat, your hands still trembling from the day’s stress. 

“I’m sorry,” you had started, your voice shaking with the weight of everything—apologizing for calling so late, for needing him when you felt like such a burden. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Joel handed you a tissue from the glove compartment without a word, his gaze focused ahead. “You didn’t make me do anything,” he replied, that steady calm of his making you feel like maybe—just maybe—you weren’t such a bother after all. “Let’s get you home so you can rest.”

“I’m hungry,” you had whispered, looking out the window to avoid his eyes.

“It’s nearly midnight, kid. Ain’t nothin’ open around here,” Joel had replied, missing the way you were already scrolling through your old, cracked phone.

“There’s a place about twenty minutes out of town,” you had offered quietly. “Their wings are good.”

Joel had sighed, his tone exasperated but laced with affection. “Twenty minutes?” He was tired; you could hear it. His voice, the way his shoulders sagged—everything about him told you he needed sleep.

You immediately regretted it. “Never mind,” you mumbled, your voice small. “I’ll eat something at home.”

But Joel, being Joel, saw through your words, saw the truth hidden behind them. He knew you didn’t want to go home. Home wasn’t a place where you could relax, not with your dad’s drinking, not with the weight of everything that had happened.

“Give me the damn phone,” he had grumbled, taking it from your hand. And for the first time that day, you had smiled, a real smile, though it hadn’t quite reached your eyes.

***

The memory faded, and you found yourself back in Joel’s truck, the quiet hum of the engine beneath you, the road stretching out into the night. You looked over at him, the corners of your mouth lifting just a bit.

“Wings sound good?” Joel asked, his eyes flicking over to you for a moment before returning to the road.

“Yeah,” you whispered, that small smile lingering. “Wings sound good.”

And in that moment, driving away from the pain, the anger, and the guilt, you felt like maybe, just maybe, things would be okay.

***

The drive to the diner was quiet, but it wasn’t the uncomfortable kind of silence. It was the kind that felt right after everything that had happened. You were both just… being. Breathing. Letting the day slowly dissolve in the rearview mirror.

When you arrived, it was one of those roadside spots, tucked away from the main stretch of town. It looked like it had been here for decades, with its faded neon sign blinking intermittently. Inside, the place was almost empty, the distant hum of country music playing softly from an old jukebox in the corner. It felt like a time capsule, a world away from the chaos you’d left behind.

Joel ordered a plate of extra spicy buffalo wings, and as they were placed in front of you, your face lit up in a way that was contagious. You picked up a wing, took a bite, and your entire body reacted, doing that tiny little happy dance you always did when something tasted particularly good.

“I fucking love these,” you exclaimed, your voice a little louder than usual, a gleam of joy in your eyes that Joel couldn’t help but admire. You chuckled as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. “My boss would kill me if I ever suggested putting these on the menu.”

Joel chuckled softly, his eyes fixed on you, watching the way you relished in the simplest pleasures. That’s what he loved about you, the way you could find light even on the darkest days. “You’re enjoyin’ yourself,” he observed, his smile easy, but his voice probing just a little deeper.

You paused for a second, his question catching you off guard. It wasn’t just about the wings, you knew that. No one had really asked you if you enjoyed anything lately—if you really enjoyed it.

“I started because it was easy money, you know?” you admitted, picking up your beer and taking a long sip. You sighed contentedly as the cold sweetness mixed with the heat of the wings. “But then I realized I was good at it. I had this chef who taught me everything. He made me his sous-chef in less than a year. And I guess I do enjoy it… it’s kind of an escape, I suppose. It lets me forget about everything else.”

Your voice faltered a little on those last words, the weight of your reality briefly slipping through the cracks. Joel heard it, even if you tried to hide it.

“I’d love to taste something made by you,” he said, his voice softer now. The sincerity in his tone was disarming, and when you looked up at him, his eyes were warm, like they were offering you a quiet place to rest.

Your heart swelled at the thought, a smile pulling at your lips. “I’d cook you something amazing,” you promised, your mind already racing with possibilities. The idea of sharing something so personal with Joel made your chest tighten, not with fear, but with excitement. Your eyes sparkled, the heavy clouds from earlier in the day seeming to drift away for just a moment.

Joel’s gaze lingered on you, a smirk forming at the corner of his mouth as he took a sip of his own drink. “Then it’s a date,” he teased, just as you were taking another sip of your Coke. You nearly choked on it, the word “date” hanging in the air between you like an unexpected spark.

The awkward little laugh you let out made Joel smile wider. He didn’t miss the way your cheeks flushed or the way your fingers fumbled with the glass. It was in these small, unguarded moments that you unknowingly captured his heart—more than you probably ever realized.

He watched as you gathered yourself, clearing your throat and trying to act like you hadn’t just blushed at his teasing. It filled him with a strange sense of pride, knowing he could help you relax like this. But beneath the lightheartedness, there was something else too—something that made his heart skip a beat when he saw that little flustered look on your face. And that scared him, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

You placed your drink down and stared at Joel for a moment, your smile softening as the weight of everything you’d been through together seemed to catch up with you. “I’m really lucky to have you, you know that?” Your voice was gentle, but there was a sincerity in it that made Joel’s chest tighten.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, his expression shifting from playful to something more serious, more protective. He didn’t always know how to deal with emotions, but he knew how to show up when it mattered. And for you, he’d always show up.

“Kiddo,” he said after a beat, his voice steady and sure, “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

And with that, the world outside felt a little less overwhelming.

[ninyard]

I think of a mute Kevin after Baltimore due to the choking accident a lot ( more of a phycological effect than physical ) and others reaction to it, would love to hear our thoughts about it

I wrote this before about Kevin going nonverbal after Baltimore! But in thinking about it again, I was wondering about who would notice and how they would react - who is most perceptive, who cares enough about Kevin to notice, who is put off by his silence instead of grateful for it?

I think Neil and Andrew of course are the first to notice - but again, with Neil preoccupied with, you know, almost dying and all that, and Andrew having spent hours believing Neil was dead, neither of them really have the time to care. It's not that they don't care but they're too preoccupied with each other to give Kevin the time and patience he needs.

I think Renee would possibly be next, tied with Allison and Aaron. Renee is kind of preoccupied with Jean at that point too, but still she turns to Kevin and offers him a, "You've been really quiet today. Is everything okay?" but accepts his nod and smile and doesn't push further. Allison isn't close enough to him yet to say much more than a joke about finally having some peace and quiet, and just takes his silence as a silent protest rather than an inability to speak. Aaron might press a little further but again, I think anyone other than Andrew/Neil would just assume it's him giving everyone the silent treatment for whatever reason.

There's Dan who glances as him throughout the night, throughout the next few days, and turns to Matt and asks, "Have you spoken to Kevin today?" and when he says no, "Has he spoken to anyone this week?". There's Nicky who asks him a question but when he's met with silence he moves on, not wanting to feel like Kevin hates him anymore than he already fears deep down. Not wanting to spend time around him wondering, why is Kevin ignoring me?

Wymack might be able to get through to him, and my "make kevin cry" brain wants to imagine that even if he doesn't say anything to respond, David asks, "Are you okay, kid?" and Kevin just can't hold himself together anymore. He nods, and nods, and then he's shaking his head and his lip is trembling, tears pooling in his eyes when David asks again, "Hey, what's going on?". When he opens his mouth to try to speak, nothing comes out, nothing can come out, and all the thoughts in his head just spill out in heavy emotional sobs and cries. He shakes his head every time he tries to say something, every time David asks him to talk to him. He shakes his head when David asks if he needs Bee. He shakes his head when David asks if he's even able to talk right now.

Then Kengo is dead, and Jean is dead, no, almost dead but not quite, and everything gets worse. Its then that Andrew is able to leave Neil's side for a few moments to check that he's okay. Andrew has only seen Kevin go like this once before, once, in those first few days when he believed he would truly never, ever play again. So he doesn't take Kevin's silence as a protest or the silent treatment, he sees it for what it is. Maybe he doesn't know exactly what to do, but he offers a steady shoulder to lean on, to sit next to, he offers his company in the room. He offers his presence, and that might just be all that he can do, for the time being at least.

[pankielovesfan]

II SPOILERS!!! (Ramble about fan again)

I randomly started writing paragraphs about how fan's character arc was very much super-centric on how he was made by mephone but it was hidden SO well because it could be really easily played off as fan having an extreme attachment to the show. which he does. but I'll see if i can explain it better.

There's so many instances of Fan being "just a fan" and that's quite literally what his entire character is centered around, and his development is all about him becoming more than just a fan and exploring more about himself.

All of this??? SO clearly ties together with him being generated by mephone. And its not noticeable even if its in your face! IT ADDS A WHOLE NEW LAYER BEHIND EVERYTHING that still amuses me.

The scene where the prime shimmer says, "but beyond that, who are YOU?" with Fan saying he didn't know- IS SO PERFECTLY PLAYED OFF! Because of course it perfectly ties together with Fan not being able to see himself outside of his identity. You read it as fan being so dedicated to the show that he doesn't have an identity outside of it. But then it turns out he quite literally HAS nothing else. He's NEVER had anything besides being a fan. It makes everything so much more.... LAYERED AND IT'S SOMETHING I KEEP THINKING ABOUT!!! BEcause before this it's like. He was so obviously making his entire identity about what he loves in a very much neurodivergent way I will mention that, so it's not even a subtle thing that he quite literally WAS made to be a fan of the show!!! BUT YOU DONT EVEN NOTICE IT. GOSH

And WHY this works while still hiding the reveal is how persistent Fan is about still BEING a fan of the show and not seeing himself outside of it. Fan is smart. He seemed to KNOW there was more than just the show. He had already figured this out long ago but was in denial because it threatened his comfort. I'm sure the new episode tells you just how intelligent Fan is in reaching for conclusions and speculating about everything along with several other episodes where he could predict future episode plots. Yet when knowing there is more to the show, he refuses to accept it, he states he didn't want to believe Paintbrush because they Knew the game was "more", right? This means he Did know something else was going on. But he's avoiding it. Why? (Already very much seen in episode 13 and explained but I'm re-saying it all)

Fan obviously loves the show and is very attached to the show. He wants to stay in the comfort of playing the role he was meant to! He wants to keep being ii's biggest fan! He's so tied to his identity as a fan of the show and he doesn't want to let that go and embraces it so much that it's easy to think this was a conscious choice in his story. That he chose to indulge as much as he does in ii and he has no urge to escape the role he was meant to play. His whole story just makes sense writing wise- but the reveal twists this entirely. Contrary to a lot of people who feel they want distance from the show due to experiences and feeling trapped, Fan is still latching onto it! BECAUSE HE LIKES BEING TRAPPED IN THE ROLE HE WAS MADE TO PLAY!!!!

thanks for reading. goodbye

[kisses-soft-like-sunshine]

Bittersweet - Part II;

Fluff w angst, Lee Know x fem!reader, coffee shop AU, idol AU, 2k words (this is part II, for part I click here). Content warning: police mistreatment, vulgarity, panic attack symptoms. Thank you to all the people who interacted with the first part! It means a lot :) Let me know what you think?

You did the thing. You said you wouldn’t do it, that it’s not the kind of foundation you want to base your relationships on - what relationship…? - and that you’d rather wait it out. But no. You. Did. The. Thing.

It was gloomy outside and it had already been three days since you were locked in your room like a caged bird. The rain made it near impossible to do anything besides wait. You had gone through the pile of books waiting to be finished that was crowding your bedside table, but you couldn’t get yourself to focus on anything. You were irresistibly curious.

You could call him of course, but you didn’t want to worry or bother him needlessly. Your brain was only clouded with thoughts of him and his beautiful face only because you were so desperately lonely… right? You weren’t about to burden a stranger over your whims.

You were playing with the card he had given you, folding the corners over and over until they were smooth, when you decided to give in to curiosity. You were no cat, after all. You pulled out your phone and searched up his name in Hangul. It did not take you extensive skills and an access to the darkest corners of the internet to find the actual identity of this friendly stranger. As much as his name was in fact a common one, it was his face that was staring right back at you through the screen. You abruptly locked your phone and put it face down on the table. I need a drink… 

You carried yourself to the kitchen like a puppet with loose strings. You didn’t know what to do with yourself as thoughts were steaming in your mind. I can never call him. This is crazy. I knew bumping into celebrities in Seoul was quite common but this is… wild. And he is FAMOUS famous. Worldwide. What am I supposed to do… The sound of the kettle boiling woke you up from your daze. You poured the hot water over the earthy grounds, its fragrance filling the room with warmth and memories of loved ones. You sighed when your phone started to buzz loudly over the wooden table, bringing you back to reality. You filled your cup and took a seat before looking at the screen still open on your last research. This time you stared at the man with a blank look on your face and chuckled to yourself. You opened your message app to see your coworker (the one there that night) had sent you an update on the situation. After you and Minho quickly left that evening, the police showed up to the coffee shop. Your coworker testified about what had happened to the best of her abilities and showed the police officers the security video of the event. The officers were able to later decipher the angry man’s identity as his face was clearly visible on the footage. He was apprehended this morning. The police had asked your coworker for your name and contact details. She wanted to let you know before they tried and contacted you but opted to give you some time to rest first. 

Your body froze reading her message, contrasting with the warmth of the liquid going down your throat. How could it go down when you could feel your inside turning into marble. Your brain, however, had turned to mush. You decided to lie to her.

Me: [Thank you for letting me know. I’ll keep you updated. Good luck with work to you all~~]

S: [No worries~~ Please take care of yourself!]

S: [There’s one more thing you should know… the man that was attacked that day, he came back. Multiple times. I think he was looking for you…]

S: [Did you guys talk that night? What happened?]

Me: [Nothing much, he just dropped me at the hospital and left. I don’t even know his name or face.]

By the time your cup was empty your phone rang again, but this time with an incoming call from an unknown number. You picked it up and had a brief conversation with an officer requesting your testimony be given at the police station, so that pictures of your wound could be taken. You hoped she couldn’t feel how tense you were. The officer didn’t mention Minho and neither did you. You knew he had to be visible on the security footage and wondered if they had found out about him too. You worried about the consequences of such an altercation as you were keenly aware of the ruthlessness of media and netizens alike when it came to idols, thanks to a part-timer who was a big kpop fan. You settled on getting this over with and went to the station this very afternoon.

The air was cool and the colors of autumn had crept their way up tree leaves. The sun was still up when a taxi dropped you off at the police station. It took you more time than usual to get ready with your injured hand but you had hoped you would be out of there before sundown. A man in uniform welcomed you and directed you to a man sitting at a desk where the angry man was waiting. He had his head low and the same clothes as that evening on his back. You stopped dead in your tracks when first seeing him but the officer accompanying you lightly pushed you to join them. You decided to be brave. You were no scaredy cat, after all.

“Miss L/N, I assume. Take a seat.” said the officer at the desk.

- “There she is! That crazy bitch who almost blinded me!” yapped the angry man, pointing his finger at you.

“Calm down now, sir. No need to be vulgar.” The policeman almost seemed amused. You were confused and uncomfortable. Something felt wrong… “Now, mam. Do you mind telling us what happened Thursday evening?”

You told the officer everything, from the moment the angry man set foot in the café to when you finally got home that night. Everything except what you knew about the other man on the security video the policeman had on his screen for all to see. Your intuition was telling you to keep his identity safe.

“We were just having a casual conversation and she barged in and sprayed toxic produce all over my eyes!” the angry man howled. “I don’t know what she thought she heard but she better stay out of Korean people’s business…”

-“Mister Kim here claims you misunderstood a personal conversation he and a gentleman were having and then proceeded to attack him. You then flee the scene, leaving him possibly blind. Luckily his injuries were superficial. Your coworker was kind enough to testify on your behalf as you were nowhere to be found. She said your hand was bleeding but Mister Kim claimed it was already injured before the altercation. Is that correct?”

“No! He was holding a knife and I cut myself on it trying to stop him from injuring the other customer.” You could not believe what you heard…

-“No knife was found at the scene,” the officer claimed. 

“I know what I heard and I know what I saw! He was furious at the other man because --”

-“I have already taken in Mister Kim’s request to press charges against you regarding the incident.” The officer said, cutting you. Your face turned pale at the sound of his words. What on Earth is going on? “Mister Kim has taken upon him to kindly withdraw the charges given the confusing situation, as long as you agree to not press any charges on your part. I think it’s in your best interest to accept his deal and move on.”

“I’ve done nothing wrong.” You answered, holding back tears.

-“Nothing proves you didn’t. And between you and me, mam. I am more inclined to believe a reasonable Korean man like Mister Kim.”

The angry man stayed quiet the whole time but the grin on his face was piercing through your skull. You felt lost and afraid. 

“What about the other man?” you nervously asked.

-“That bastard is none of your concern,” the angry man spat.

“He has testified, not that it’s any of your business. What you should be concerned about is Mister Kim’s thoughtful offer” the policeman answered after calming down the angry man.

You feel stuck. You are stuck. What else could you do but play into their stupid game. You are a foreigner with no true attachment here. There is no one to help you, not even the man you saved. You feel sick to your stomach thinking you were dumb enough to protect his reputation when your livelihood is now on the line.

“Fine.” You declare, resigned and exhausted.

You sign the papers and hastily leave the station before your anger pours out of your eyes. Everything around you feels as though it's crashing in. Making your way out of the parking lot, you take in the fresh wind of the evening, resolved to leave this entire story behind for good. A hand suddenly pulls you by the arm. Regardless of his disguise, you can clearly recognize Minho. 

-“What do you think you're doing?” you ask, your voice shaking with outrage.

“Just come with me please.”

You try to free your arm but he holds you closer, dragging you further away from the police station.

“Why should I even trust you? Is this how you repay me for saving you? Do you even know how scary and shameful that was?” your voice is low but the words flow out of you with anger. You didn’t even feel yourself start to cry. 

He carries on pulling you with him, not even daring to look at you. Once the two of you are completely out of sight, he lets go of your arm and raises his eyes to meet yours. You push him away from you. Your rage is palpable but he doesn��t lower his gaze, nor does he complain. His eyes are intense and sad. You feel even more confused. How could someone be so kind one day and so cruel the next.

“Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?” you say, snarky regardless of the tears.

-“I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened in there but --”

“What happened in there was I covered for you. They threatened me with a lawsuit and I covered for you and you didn’t even testify in my favor!” You had come closer to him now, your broken heart jeopardizing both of your personal spaces.

-“I’m truly sorry you had to go through this. I had no idea, okay? It wasn’t me who testified but my company’s lawyer. I had to warn my manager as soon as I got home. I didn’t want any news outlet to get wind of the incident. You don’t understand how worse all of this could have gotten! Especially for you. I’m an idol, alright? Do you even know what --” He spoke fast and was visibly overwhelmed with guilt by the effect everything had on you.

“I know!” you said, eyes piercing into his. “Why do you think I covered for you in the first place…”

-“You shouldn’t have,” he said, turning his back to you. You couldn’t understand why he would say such a thing. “It wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for who I am in the first place. That man targeted me because his girlfriend is a sasaeng who used to follow me around. I guess he blames me for their break-up.”

“Don’t say that…” you sighed, now feeling guilty for getting angry at him. You grasped how little power he actually had in this situation. “You shouldn’t have to go through this, no one should.”

An awkward silent set between the two of you. He finally turned to face you but kept his gaze low to avoid yours. You didn’t know what to do. You felt relieved and outraged and ashamed.

“You probably want nothing to do with me.” He says, looking at you coyly this time. 

-“That’s not true, actually” You stare at him kindly and a red glow burns the tip of his ears. He returns your kindness with the coolness of his brown irises. Deep, like coffee. Almost black and filled with light. You could stare at his face all day. 

Your limbs walk before you can understand what you're about to do, as if worked by the diligence of fate. You wrap your arms around his shoulders in a reassuring embrace. You can feel the tension lowering in his chest. He doesn't hold you back at first, until gradually his hands meet the crest of your back. The both of you stay like this for a while as the sun sets on the city. At last everything feels still enough for you to breathe properly.

“Are you hungry?” you ask, a timid smile growing on your face as it leaves his shoulder. You're as flushed as his ears. This was a lot for the both of you and you could use the reassuring taste of a warm meal.

-“I could do dinner, but…” Minho answers.

“Right. You’re famous…” You hum lightly. Is this a good idea? “There's this quiet spot behind the café, it leads on an alleyway only the few shop honors who share it use. We should be alone there.” His eyes widen at the suggestion. You notice he has this habit of slowly but repeatedly blinking at times, which is quite endearing. “I mean, if you want to. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, of course…”

-“Sounds good to me,” he says.

[5a-alf]

I have been obsessing over this perfect court!AU and have literally like one irl friend to talk about it with. So.

The thing about Riko is that he never ever ever could have been anything different. He has at least one but probably two personality disorders (narcisism and antisocial i'd argue), which are the result of the abuse he endured. From a young age he was only an object, a spare, or the embodiment of an idea.

Others are redeemable because they are people, but he never really was a person in his own right. So he got worse and worse and worse, and we all know what he did.

I wanted a story where he could have something different, for i feel there is no universe in which he ends in a different way: everything he has is a childish dream, and that would have failed at some point anyway. And with failure comes death. I think his brother would have killed him even without the whole clusterfuck of the last game, just because without Kengo the main line was now only one adult and the 'branch' one was 2, which is one too many. Between Riko and Testuji, killing Riko made the most sense because Testuji had no interest in power, he just liked his dolls; also he was already an expert at his job, while Riko would have to learn/train to fill that role. And obviously age is also a factor, Riko is young, Testuji is middle-aged: for ichirou, a young man, the second is less threatening.

I could go on for hours guys im not even joking

For him to have a different future, he is not even the only thing that needs to change. If he was a good person, he'd have been dead earlier. If he was an okay person too. Maybe as morally gray he'd have the same exact life with a little less enemies.

What needs to change with him is the people he has around, his safety net. He has zero people on his side in canon (And he shouldn't have them, mind, he's horrid. But still, out of every bad person in aftg he is the only one who no one loves), he only has followers and pawns. So for an AU to work, he would need to change in a way that would affect the people he surrounds himself with enough to once again reach the show down with Ichirou and "win" against Testuji.

To do that, i think he needs Neil on his side. Kevin is great dont get me wrong, but he doesnt get it the way neil does. Neil gets the mafia, its way of thinking, its deals and the way power moves. Neil know how to be vicious and how to read people and how to push just enough.

To have a 'good' relationship with neil something needs to go differently during the selling, so that his mom doesnt run away with him. But he'd also need to have a good relationship with kevin first. For him to have a different relationship woth kevin i dont think he'd necessarily need to be better morally, he'd just need to be a better manipulator. In canon he controls people with fear/violence/money, but the best way to control people is actually through love/favors. To train a dog, you better give it treats than beat it. I think this way they would end up with a better relationship but also, the better relationship would in turn make him a better person, and the two things would continue to feed each other.

Neil comes in now. He is 10, Riko and Kevin are 12. The thing with Neil (aside from all i've already said) is that Riko would quite literally own him at this point, the same way he then owns Jean. The main difference between the two situations i think would be 1) their personalities 2) their age. At 16 (Jean 14) Riko is already off the deep end. Waay too deep. But at 12? Different story.

For the first point, mostly i'd say that Neil grew up in an abusive household like jean did, but he knew his father as the butcher, as a mafioso, and he was taught how to use knives ecc as a kid. He knew the drill, he knew the life. Jean was completely uprooted, brought into a different country, told to play a game i dont think he knew anything about. Much more jarring. Neil already loved Exy, he wanted to play it all the time; the sport itself would be a good motivator for good behaviour. Jean was just angry angry angry (fair.) and alone in a different country. So. Not the same. I think Raven!Neil would be the one person on the team not afraid to tell Riko off, but also not afraid of his violence (much more restricted in this au guys), and riko is also not scared of Neil's violence (a bit more than in canon, he grew at castle evermore; he is nathaniel) so they find solace in each other. He'd know when to listen and when to mouth off [Riko saying "nathaniel" vs "neil" and things like that]

Second point is their age, because at 12 riko is more susceptible to change than he is at 16, so building a rapport with neil would prove more beneficial, for all i've said in point one.

Jean would be a harder case. Bringing him to heel is much more complicated, because riko doesnt have anything to leverage against him nor offer him, the guy has nothing to lose anymore and now is not enough of a person to desire anything (well. Anything obtainable. He'd like to be free for sure). I think again a lot of the work would be done by neil (and kevin too obv, but neil mostly, as his partner) because they are the same age, play the same role, are partners. Neil would be a centainty. And this better riko wouldnt be violent to destroy his spirit, he'd be "forgiving" (when useful) and bandage his wounds when the Master beats him, and be generally kind to a kid who is so starved for kindness he'd kill himself to at least get the touch of death. That + group mentality and i think jean would be on board too.

Andrew also factors in all of this, but i'll go on later this has gotten SO LONG and i wont even reread it gosh i hope it makes sense.

Basically this whole thing ends up in: take the insanity that is andreil as a couple but that somehow is the sanest couple out there but extend it to the perfect court 5.

[tehrevving]

Vincent Valentine Week Day 5 - Recoil

It’s your second shooting lesson with Vincent and honestly you think you’re doing quite well. All of your shots have managed to hit the target, not the bullseye, but you’re getting close. You’re feeling comfortable with the small handgun he’s let you use, you’re used to the weight and recoil of it. You’re probably overeager but you feel ready to shoot something with more firepower. 

Vincent stands behind you, not quite touching you but close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from his body. He’s relaxed, not nervous or tense. He’s always watching, ready to step in if he senses you’re doing something wrong. He’d had to step in multiple times during your first lesson to adjust your stance, large hands trailing reverently over your hips and thighs. He’s much more distracting than you’d anticipated he would be. The adrenaline of shooting and the feel of him behind you, it quickly grows too much. You’d jumped him once you’d returned to the relative privacy of the Highwind and you think today's lesson is going to end the same way. 

You flick the safety and put your handgun down on the table in front of you, lifting up the ear protection sitting awkwardly across your head and turning back to Vincent. 

He looks down at you, head tilted, something like pride hidden in his eyes. 

“What do you think? I’m good right?” you laugh. 

He hums. “If this was turk training, then you would already have failed.”

You pout, knowing that he’s just being mean for the sake of it. 

He smiles softly, crooking your chin up with a gentle finger underneath your chin. “You are doing well,” he praises. 

“Well enough to try another weapon?” you ask, giving your best, puppy-dog eyes and tilting your head to point at the gun strapped to his thigh. 

“The recoil will be too much for you,” he asserts, voice serious. 

“Maybe,” you reply. “But what if you’re incapacitated and I need to use yours? I’m not always going to have this handgun on me.”

His face falls slightly. You feel bad, knowing how much it frustrates him that his transformations and subsequent fainting spells leave him an unpredictable liability in battle. “Alright,” he nods, taking half a step back from you. 

He shows you how to undo the strap that holds his gun in the holster and demonstrates how to pull it out without getting caught on the buckles. He places the gun in your hand, still holding onto the middle of the barrel. It’s much heavier than you expected, and longer than you thought it would be. You should have expected this, you know that the gun is nearly the length of Vincent’s thigh, and he’s decently tall and all fucking leg. 

He shows you the safety and talks you through the main parts of the weapon. He has you repeat everything back to him, trying to ensure that you remember. He lets go of the gun and you have to hold it with two hands to support all its weight. He has you take your shooting stance, forcing you to turn away from him. He corrects your grip on the gun subtly, explaining that you need to hold it differently due to the recoil. It’s awkward compared to the handgun you’ve been using, the grip clearly made for someone with much larger, stronger hands. 

“Your stance is good,” he says eventually, pride in his voice. “Do not move. I will work around you.”

You almost turn around, not sure what he means but manage to catch yourself at the last moment as he suddenly presses up against your back. You try not to move as his gauntlet finds your hip, pricks of sensation heating your skin. The warmth of his torso presses flush to your back, the buckles of his cloak against your spine. He presses his shoulder against yours, against the one holding the gun, allowing you to brace against his body.

“I have you,” he murmurs, voice deep and right by your ear. You repress the shudder that skates down your neck. You can feel his breath on your hair. “Whenever you're ready,” he purrs, sliding your earmuffs down and muffling the sound of the night. 

The gun is heavy in your hands, the weight foreign and strange. You line up the target trying to do the exact same thing that you’ve been doing all night with the smaller gun. It’s more difficult with the heavier weapon, the weight is different and it dips at the end of the barrel.You struggle to hold it straight. Vincent is distracting too. He’s still, barely moving, you can’t even feel him breathe, but you know he’s there. Solid and reassuring.

You take in a deep breath and then let it out slowly, squeezing down on the trigger. 

The sound of the gunshot is loud even through your ear protection. The recoil is intense, your arm and the gun flying upwards. Your shoulder is thrown back into Vincent’s body but he’s an unmoving weight behind you. His hand on your hip keeps you steady, keeps your feet on the floor and your stance strong. Your shot goes wide, really fucking wide, no where near the target. That’s fine, you try to reassure yourself, it was only your first time. 

You turn your head, looking over your shoulder. Vincent nods, allowing you to have another shot. You line up, taking more care this time. You’re expecting the recoil but it doesn’t matter. You still end up pushing into Vincent. You try to use him though, using the strength of his support at your back to push through the strain on your shoulder. Your shot grazes the edge of the target this time. Much better. 

You fire off three more shots, each one skimming the edge of the target before Vincent stops you. He takes the gun, flicking the safety and holstering it back against his thigh. You try to protest but he shushes you, lifting up your earmuffs. “No more,” he mutters by your ear. “Your arm will already be sore tomorrow.” His body is still wrapped around you, trapping you, not allowing you to move. “You did well,” he praises, the heat of it curling around you. 

“T-thanks,” you stammer, not quite sure where to go from here. You expect him to step away, but he doesn’t. 

“You look good with my gun,” he murmurs, voice low at your ear. His tone is deep and seductive, full of promise. 

He spins you quickly, pulling you in close, pressing you flush to the length of his body. He’s warm, the scent of gunpowder and smoke overwhelming. You look up at him, noticing an immediate heat in his eyes. You shift slightly and realise that he’s hard, a solid bulge pressing against your hip. 

You grin, you can’t help yourself. “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to —”

He cuts you off with a rough press of his leather glove over your lips “Do not finish that sentence,” he growls, squeezing your jaw between his fingers and pulling you into a rough, heated kiss.

[lwyikas]

Art and Passion ft Kuroo Tetsurou

" There is nothing more truly artistic than to love people"

“Can you not look while i write?You’re distracting me”

“Rejected” he grinned while watching you take notes in your notebook. You don’t even remember if you offered him to come museum with you, but here. At least some of his perspective on works of art helps.He bends down to look at what you wrote and grimaces.

“I have endless respect for you being an art enthusiast but if people who keep history wrote like you, a third of history would not reach future generations.”He didn’t even try to suppress his giggle while commenting on your article with a serious and wise, rather convulsive manner.He adores nerve in your eyes and frowning, oh you probably want to put the notebook on his head.

“It has been proven that smart people write awful”okay maybe he’s right,But you won’t entertain him more by accepting this.

“By whom?”

“Your mo-“your little aggressive sentence was not complete with he pulling you under his arms and imprisoning you in his chest.

“I’d rather you express your love for me in a more docile way, and for God’s sake, why didn’t you complete this earlier?will we stay here until midnight?

“I didn’t bring you here by force, you can go if you’re bored”You whined while saving yourself from his arms and fixing your hair.

“No it’s late,maybe thieves will come to steal Mona Lisa after I leave? I have to be here to save my sweetie”

“You are quite a gentleman, but original Mona Lisa is in Paris”but the important one is thought, admirable.You’re gazing at him,He shakes his foot Non-stop, sighs every five minutes. You’re bored too, we need to add some color.

“We will have diputation with you about Van Gough, i need your attractive ideas follow me” your raise tone get his attention.He offers you an arm. “Care to join me ma'am?”

Your eyes are gleaming as you giving him cheering smile. “It would be my pleasure.”As you two were walking, crowd around museum was dwindling, it was impossible not to notice young girls glances at him around. You tightened grip on his arm and you couldn’t help but stealing glances from him.He’s so tall and handsome ass hell. Even if his black hair has a weird style ,it didn’t make this man less attractive, even a little bit. We won’t even talk about his hazel eyes. Be sure that it won’t be difficult to find adore in those eyes that always on you and soften with you every moment.He notices your gaze and a slight pinkness appears on his cheeks. But of course he will never give you this opportunity.

“I think this is the painting you’re talking about” He's so bad, but he does it so well. When you’re looking for something in your bag, he takes out his phone and checks the clock. 9:45. After training, he was still tired and really he wants just his bed and rest. And he was bored like shit. But he enjoys spend time with you, he wouldn’t wait 2 hours to examine ancient vases or old paintings for anyone else except you in world when he is that tired. He gets rid of his thoughts with small “yay”sound coming from you.You probably found what you were looking for.

“Couldn’t you look at these paintings on google?”

“Nooo,look there are more detailed articles about its history below, and if I did it at home, i would probably be bored, it’s fun to romance things” He smiled sincerity and scratch his arms over his head.”As you wish goody goody”

“Alright,this is ‘cafe terrace at night’, Vincent van Gogh’s painting with oil on canvas in 1888. Van Gogh used theme of the starry sky for the first time in this. Although the work, in which the night view of cafe is reflected, is generally dominated by dark colors, no shade of black color was used in the drawing.Instead, with preferred warm colors and depth of perspective, this painting is unusual for Van Gogh’s works.”You explained with excitement.

“Yes, when i look, i can definitely feel emotions.” It’s nice painting, but mixed colors, metaphors and so on, he can’t say he gets messages right.

“Really?”

“No”

“What do you see when you look at it?”

He turns back to painting and examines it.“Tables, peoples, buildings, and stars.I guess i liked starts more.The colors catch my eye, but I can’t say much in terms of emotion, it’s a peaceful picture.”he stated.

“Such wise words,you must be a work interpreter”

“I’m trying my best!”

“But you got a point, intense and contrasting shades of bright yellows and dark blue not only convey a sense of harmony, but also reflect the emotional state of the artist. The azure sky, illuminated by stars, acts as a contrast to the warm yellows of the cafe. The side-by-side collar of colors creates a dynamic tension between light and dark, reflecting the emotional complexity that often characterizes.”

“You’re very attractive when you speak wisely”

“Tetsu”

“Fine fine, there are no colors that are completely in harmony with each other, even if it took my eye at first, after what you said, it seems more compatible to me in this way. If contrasting colors were used elsewhere, it would probably be “help”, but this painting is in harmony, it is not boring and overwhelming.”He crossed his arms and nodded jokingly while explaining.

“So you’re saying when things are concordant and monotonous with each other overwhelm you?”

“Maybe,calmness and peace are good, but above all, the passion of contrasts gets me in one move.”You stopped for a second and keep going take notes of what he said.

“I would rather die of passion than boredom”

This is no longer about the painting. You can get from his gazes and tone . You both stand in silence but he can hear a lot in silence.You two look at art but there are completely different thoughts in both minds. His rough hand rubs slowly to yours.But you both won’t make a move for more.He tries not to show it, but his ears are pink.

“We can go now”

“Ha?”

“I did complete writing”You put your notebook to bag and he helped you wear your jacket.You always say that you could wear yourself , but he always tell shut up.It’s a small thing he enjoys in his own way, so you don’t find it necessary to oppose too much.

When you two out cold air hits your face. It’s already dark. God, how many hours have you been there? But the hours didn’t seem too long to you. You don’t think you’ll get a low grade from your work, but it doesn’t matter if you take it, you don’t change these memories with him for anything.

“Its awful that you finished too early, we hadn’t yet come to the part where I read love poems to you”You wouldn’t exchange his antics for anything.

“You have to rest then you can pour your love for me into serenades”

“Definitely i will”he grins and pulls you closer.Kisses your temple.You’re glad he didn’t see blushing on your cheeks or you thought he didn’t.You two walking towards bus stop.

Hand in hand.

[kiwi-on-ice]

Kinktober 2024 day 17: Somnophilia with Cole Cassidy

fem reader, NSFW 18+

Also contains: creampie, whimpery cole lmao

Cole’s shoulders slump as he closes the door to your apartment quietly, exhaustion seemingly settling in his bones. It was a rough day, and he’s excited to just collapse in bed with you by his side, his lifeline.

As he shuffles into your room, removing his clothes and leaving them unceremoniously in the corner of the room, his eyes widen as he pulls back the covers.

While you were sleeping soundly, chest rising and falling rhythmically, it was your underwear that caught his attention. Bright yellow, with small lace flowers around the edges.

They’d been a gift from Cole, but now it had a different meaning in your relationship. There was a rule between you both. When you wore these particular panties to bed, it meant that Cole could touch you however he wanted, even when you were asleep. In fact, you wanted him to.

And as he sits there, looking at your peaceful state, there’s nothing he wants more than to sink himself deep into the comforting warmth of your pussy. So he works on gently tugging your panties down, being careful not to rouse you. But he has to barely suppress a groan when he sees you. Cunt glistening slightly, just perfect. So he gently runs his finger along your folds, stimulating the nerves gently.

He gets you wet enough to sink a finger inside ever so gently. Feeling your walls, he focuses on stretching you out gently, before he just can’t take it anymore.

Cole strokes himself a few times, before moving behind you as you still lay sound asleep on your side. Lifting your leg gently, he pushes inside carefully, as a deep and guttural noise forces its way out of his throat. God this is what he needed.

He pulls out before pushing back in, savouring the feeling as you start to stir slightly. That doesn’t bother him however, in fact he even speeds up, groaning as your eyes blearily blink open.

“There y’are, y’with me?” He slurs against your shoulder, breath heavy on your skin.

You whimper gently, being woken up via being fucked disorientating you a little. But the pleasure takes hold as he roughly grabs at your tits from beneath your flimsy pyjama top.

“Fuck, such a good pussy.” He says, biting your skin gently as his hips increase their pace, “just what I needed.”

Shivering, you can’t do a lot but let him keep fucking you, clenching around him after he hits a particularly good spot. The noises pouring from his mouth are quite uncharacteristically higher pitched, almost whimpers.

“Oh fuck darlin’…can’t last, just too good.”

You nod, moaning as he pinches your nipple before his hips really speed up. He’s clearly chasing release, and you let him.

“Gonna cum inside ya, fill this pretty cunt up.” He stutters out, before his hips still. Just like he said, he fills you completely with his release, the warmth comforting you in a perverse sort of way.

His forehead rests against the back of your neck, before he plants a gentle kiss. “Sorry…just needed-“

You shake your head, reassuring him that it was okay, before his hand slips around you and between your thighs. He doesn't pull out of you though, instead leaving himself buried inside you, keeping his release exactly where it is.

“Gotta make you cum though, right? It’s only fair.” He says cheekily, the grin on his face telling you of your fate as his callous fingers press against your clit. "Just let me make it all better for ya."