#i feel very much out of my depth with that one

[heegyukeluv]

cross the line (lhs)

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader

synopsis: “How do you know if someone is flirting with you?”  It was Heeseung’s question to you, and you were left with no option other than to show how you do it.

my's note: this is from an old prompt i had. nothing much, just some fluff and highkey desperate (and long) smut... and bestfriends to lovers 🤭i feel like i lost the plot while i was writing it, but yeah! hope y'all enjoy it

warnings: childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, kinda miscomunication?, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!!), desperate hee (in many ways lol), hee is sensitive and edges himself, very slooooow and unnecessarily detailed smut, reader is not a virgin but it's her second time!! / lmk if i missed something!

wc: 14,5k

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers, @ikeuverse, @tinycatharsis

“How do you know if someone is flirting with you?”

The question lingered in the air longer than Heeseung expected, but he wouldn’t blame you at all.

It was a quiet, calm Saturday afternoon. None of you had work to do or studies to draw your energy. While your back lazily rested on your couch’s armrest with your legs propped up in a triangle, Heeseung was laid on the ground after blaming the couch’s fabric for being too heated for his skin, his head opposite to yours. 

Far enough to miss your instant confused expression. 

“Huh?” You murmured with a frown, trying to figure out if you heard it correctly before diverting your attention from your phone to catch a glimpse of Heeseung’s plain eyes looking up at the ceiling. 

He had shifted his position to a relaxed one with a hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach, the quiet motion of up and down following his gentle breathing. It could easily soothe your nerves to watch him serenely exist like that in the world, an opposite to his normally chaotic and teasing demeanor. 

“How do you know if someone is flirting with you?” Heeseung repeated his question once again, and you were sure now you had heard it right. It didn’t make you less puzzled though. “Like, I think I struggle to recognize what’s just a normal interaction and what’s a flirt.”

Your eyebrows were sky high as you skeptically eyed Heeseung, not believing a single word coming out of his mouth as your body stiffed a little. 

Growing up together as friends was just a quarter of your story with Heeseung.

Your moms were the typical best friends that surprisingly gave birth around the same time, resulting in you and Heeseung becoming as close as siblings due to your families proximity, although the thought of being Heeseung’s sister haunted the depths of your mind terribly nowadays.

Of course you wouldn’t mind being considered in that position when you were younger; Heeseung annoying ass bothering you all the time with the subtle hair pulls under the excuse of trying to grab your attention, or poking your sides to start a little fight that he always won, or the times he simply feigned to go for a whisper as in telling you a secret just to blow air in your ear and elicit a scream from you, were a huge behaviors proof he had somewhat sibling energy.

Your constant smacks on his shoulders and chest, along with your not-so-gentle bites on his arms, and your giggles whenever you pranked him by tossing flour at his direction when cooking together worked well to establish a strong base to that idea.

However, as you both started to grow up, things changed accordingly to your ages.

You were expectedly very comfortable around each other, and the touches once aiming to bother, switched to casual, caring ones, still having a faint of that light-hearted taunt.

Heeseung would often be seen removing an eyelash from your cheek, his fingertips brushing against your skin softly as you kept talking normally.

Or intertwining your hands when going back from school, so you wouldn’t fall whenever you tripped – and you did quite regularly.

Or, when you sat together, Heeseung would make sure to have your thighs resting on his lap so he could settle his warm hands on top of it, casually caressing your skin while watching whatever you choose to. 

It was great and heartwarming to have him like that, taking care of you even with the slightest teasing alongside genuine intentions – Heeseung struggled to demonstrate his feelings openly, so giving you princess-like treatment with a hint of his usual playful banter was his way to show how much he loved you.

Eventually, puberty hit him, and hit undoubtedly hard. 

The little kid who used to follow you around just to annoy had become the taller, handsome, and effortlessly cool teenager, surrounded by friends and making girls squeal over even the slightest interaction with him, leaving you to wonder when everything had changed that much.

You didn’t expect Heeseung to keep being friends with you the way he was before as time passed, but surprisingly he would often be choosing you over the others, such as hanging out during lunch time with you, doing his schoolworks only with you, spending a part of his pocket money with sweets for you and taking you home everyday – you lived near to each other, nonetheless he would always guide you to your door’s porch before kissing your forehead and saying his farewell. 

At some point you realized your body was reacting similarly to how girls who had a crush on Heeseung would describe when he was around; an urge to scream and giggle just because he smiled, heart pounding hard in your chest after watching him slicking back his sweaty hair while playing basketball with the boys, hands trembling with the thought of being alone for too long with him in your room.

You were starting to act awkward, your hormones messing with your head enough to leave you scared as shit, questioning what you and Heeseung were, because the definition of friendship wasn’t making any sense, seemed lacking, insufficient for what you truly, wholeheartedly wanted from Heeseung.

So your most sane decision at the time was to push him towards other girls randomly, sharing how much in love a friend of yours was with him and how worthy, pretty and intelligent she was. Or how the cheerleader’s leader would fit him perfectly and they would become the school’s model couple.

The sting in your heart was tough to deal with when he started to pick up some of your ideas and openly flirt with the said girls, sharing each step with you how friends constantly did, but you would one hundred percent rather to handle the pain of never having Heeseung as your boyfriend than the hurtful thought of losing him for good.

Then Heeseung started dating, and the girl was extremely jealous of your friendship. 

Though you swore she had nothing to worry about, Heeseung, once again, chose you, dumping the girl just a few weeks after because she said bad things about you, added to the fact that she had a list of reasons why he should end the friendship, something Heeseung would never, ever think about doing.

Despite your mind playing tricks after hearing that people could misinterpret the way Heeseung behaved with you – apparently he would be playing with your hair and giving you headpats quite too oftenly, barely keeping his hands away from you –, you tried to maintain things safely where they should be, focusing on getting over your foolish crush on Heeseung and moving on.

Eventually, little by little the so cherished friendship started to teeter the edge that crossed the line of just friends, and the casual moments started to hold a special place inside your chest.

Heeseung made no effort to help you as well, offering big and gorgeous smiles whenever he saw you as if you were everything he wanted. Laughing graciously when you hugged him so you could hear and feel his chest vibrating with it. Doing his silly little dances to cheer you up in the middle of your living room and, mostly, singing songs with his angelical voice for you to sleep during late phone calls. 

You were so terrified of reading beyond reality.

Was it really that deep?, you would question yourself when your head rested on your pillow at night, the phantom of Heeseung’s presence permeating your room after a game day together, the shared chuckles and teasing prolonging your fast heartbeats as a sweet reminder of your feelings, feelings that you never really managed to bury somewhere else other than on the tip of your tongue, craving for the release you never gave.

The friendship continued the same through the years, or, at least, you both tried to. The emotional bond that tied you two together worked almost perfectly, if you got to keep your voice silenced, if you got to keep the real feelings inside your chest, away from the possible reality.

Heeseung would be eager to share his adventures with you, from the everyday moments, like when he made a shot with his back turned to the hoop and scored, to the more secretive and sexual escapades, the ones you would rather not hear about but had to in order to support your friend spot.

It felt like a punch to the gut when Heeseung talked about his first kiss and the others that followed, each revelation stirring a mix of emotions you couldn't quite shake off, not when you wanted him to be your first kiss as well.

When you both entered college last year, once more things shifted a little.

Heeseung and you began to frequent very different places. While you gravitate towards the quiet spots, such as the library, the coffee shop, or the shade of a tree on campus to read a book in your silent, mellow atmosphere, Heeseung was willing to attend every single party he got to know about, having girls constantly kissing him in front of everyone, caring little to nothing about the talks or if the night would end up in his room.

But he never really committed to anyone.

You wondered what was the reason that held him back, considering the amount of good opportunities he had; the offers were abundant, and the line of admires long to make a curve down the square. Surely he would find the love of his life among that many options, and you had convinced yourself you were far faded from the running.

So, the question felt out of place.

“Are you really gonna try to make me believe that you don’t know when a girl is flirting with you?” You propped yourself on the couch to full face Heeseung, arching an eyebrow. “You? Of all people?”

Heeseung rolled his eyes with a sigh and a smirk, pushing himself up to sit with crossed his legs, fully aware of what you were referring to. “Don’t even start with this shit.”

You chuckled dryly, struggling to contain the bitter taste dissolving in the depths of your throat, the knot was extremely hard to swallow, to know he had fucked who knows how many girls through his life and you, on the other hand, barely had a boyfriend.

It might sound like envy, but you were just frustrated for not being any of those girls.

“What shit? The ‘last weekend I slept with three girls’ shit?” You faked a deep voice to mimic Heeseung, together with his usual cocky smile before deadpanning into a feigned teasing expression.

The episode happened a few days ago, right when you accidentally eavesdropped on him and his friends chatting while playing video games in your shared living room.

It was the typical boys’ talk that you had no intention of listening to, but unfortunately you had just reached the door’s knot to open it, then each word that came out of Heeseung’s mouth traveled straight into your ears, making your stomach drop in an unexpected pain. 

You rushed to your room, cheeks heating and tears stinging your eyes, on the verge of breaking down after hearing what he had said.

Of course you knew Heeseung was sexually active. His room was right next to yours, and though he tried to keep it quiet, the girl he once led in after mistakenly thinking you weren’t home hadn’t bothered to be discreet.

You were fully aware of his private life, the quarter that had you screaming, crying, nearly pulling out your hair and breaking some of your belongings in jealousy because it wasn’t you. 

“Y/N,” Heeseung called out seriously, accidentally bringing you back from your spiral thoughts. “You, more than anyone, know I was joking,” he averted his eyes from you, the prominent area of his cheeks heating as he added. “I literally lost my virginity not even six months ago.”

Now it was your time to roll your eyes, because yes, Heeseung did in fact lose his virginity on that said date, but he never stopped having sex ever since and it annoyed you so fucking much. While you struggled to even kiss a boy, Heeseung was out there living the best of life. Without you.

For years, you thought you hated his behavior because you couldn’t be like him, nonchalant about your crushes as if they were nothing much. You had to literally force your body not to shake when kissing someone, had to hide your sweaty palms and how all your instincts yelled for you to run away when sharing intimacy with someone.

But the actual reality was simpler. You weren’t envious of him. You didn’t want to be like Heeseung.

You wanted Heeseung.

“Whatever you say,” you muttered with a dry chuckle and dropped back on the couch, grabbing your phone to keep scrolling on tiktok, ignoring how hot your face felt after.

Heeseung grunted, his eyes darting towards your face as you absentmindedly watched videos. The boy was oblivious to the real whirlwind happening inside your chest, especially because on his side of the story, he was fighting so fucking hard to contain himself.

Every. Single. Second. 

You were the prettiest girl he ever had the chance to lay his eyes on, with the bestest personality that complemented his own just right, with the most melodic voice and laughter that made his whole world slow down in order to make his breathing ability harder. And he really wished it actually slowed down, to allow him to enjoy and appreciate every passing moment with you even deeper.

Fuck, Heeseung was unable to tell when the butterflies in his stomach started to dance along the beat of your constant presence, but the day you asked if your lipgloss was cute definitely played a big role on it.

Heeseung had a vivid memory of how gorgeous you looked wearing your brand new dress for your fifteenth birthday party, styling your strands with a hair bow and prepping your face with makeup that only accentuated your already beautiful features.

And then you turned on your heels, cheeks painted with a faint blush, big, wide, innocent eyes colored with a soft shade of brown, and your lips, oh, your fucking plump lips with a  shade of a light pink gloss adorning it, screaming for his own mouth to be pressed there.

‘Do I look cute? Does my gloss look cute?’

The question was simple and very common. Heeseung always answered yes to them, because he would always think you were pretty, even when waking up with your puffy face and half-lidded open eyes squinting because of daylight.

But there you were, making Heeseung focus intentionally more on your, now, kissable lips, on your sweet, tempting, fucking gorgeous lips.

Ever since that day Heeseung had to keep you closer to drift his nasty thoughts away.

It was controversial and maybe hypocritical. He should have done the opposite, to avoid you, to keep you as far as possible, but he simply couldn’t, because in that very moment he found himself addicted to you, addicted to the idea of tasting what he had come to crave as his main life goal. 

Having you near meant not dealing with the thought of other guys that had experienced what he longed the most, because with you, everything that filled Heeseung’s mind was the present; your presence, your cheeky smiles, your clingy hugs, your scent, you, as a whole.

It was so fucking tough and hurtful to hear about your little crushes, it fumed his chest with angry flames that spread rapidly, with no sign to have a firefighter strong enough to put the fire out.

You weren’t like him, or at least the part you allowed him to have access didn’t compare to even one percent of what he lived, but Heeseung strongly envied those who had the chance to be the reason behind your shy giggles and blushed cheeks.

Along the chat about flattering boys that stole your heart, you would also ask him why he didn’t date anyone, your curious gaze making him stutter in place. To internally scream and squirm to prevent the words from escaping his mouth – words that would form the sentence that, without a doubt, would change the trajectory of your relationship – was the only suitable option.

It’s your fault, idiot. It’s because none of them are you.

Heeseung always opted to laugh away and give an open answer; ”didn’t find the right one” was his favorite.

In fact, watching you grow up was harder than dealing with some of the questions you threw at him. One moment, you were just the little girl he loved to tease, someone he considered his best friend, and even like the little sister he never had

Heeseung would watch you laugh at his jokes, chase you around scaring you, and protect you from the world when necessary. But then, out of nowhere, you started to change.

You were suddenly a full-grown woman, carrying yourself in a way that left him speechless, not knowing how to react, with boobs and shit.

Ok, that was not exactly what made his life around you harder, nonetheless, it was inevitable the way you physically evolved began to hold a distinct place in Heeseung's mind, blurring his cohesive thoughts with a frightening ease.

Being a teenager while having a hot friend was difficult, no one ever taught him about it.

He felt nasty every time he dared to touch himself while thinking about your body; how your mildly exposed chest, when wearing tight shirts, hinted at what was beneath it. How the soft curves of your belly and hips drew his attention in a way that got his fingertips tingling in craving to hug it, to have it under his touch.

Whenever he achieved his climax, your cute name falling from his lips in a quiet whisper, the following regret flooded his chest within a wave of remorse that he couldn’t control at all. For good minutes he even considered saying sorry to you within a text, without giving a proper explanation, but he would always choose to keep that hidden truth away from your acknowledgment in every instance possible.

Besides his strong, flaming desire, Heeseung loved you with all he had.

You were his best friend, the one and only, the girl who knew his deepest secrets and welcomed them without judgment, that laughed at his stupid jokes and held him closer when he needed comfort.

You knew that when he was a child, he would wet the bed because he had nightmares about clowns. You knew he would eat ramen in the middle of the night, hiding it from his parents and blaming his older brother. You knew that, despite him bragging about his skills, he was terrible at candy crush – and you loved to tease him about it, because who the hell is bad at candy crush?

You didn’t seem to care about his flaws, like the aggressive way he treated things around him when the accumulated stress snapped – never at you, though. Or the fact that he would procrastinate as much as possible to clean his room, to do laundry or wash the dishes. Or that he would always eat while watching TV at maximum volume, and scream loudly while playing league of legends even when late at night.

Heeseung loved you, yet, it wasn’t enough to keep him safely quiet, relentlessly making his body ache for you. What started as the warmth of a deep connection slowly blossomed into something more – more intense, more real, and yet, somehow, delicate, like a fragile flower that could easily be shattered.

Heeseung would treat you like a queen because he thought you deserved to be one, and in the valleys of his heart, he wished for you to let his presence be part of your happiness, to share all the intimate moments, to become a part of your world in a way that was more than just a friend.

So that was the reason Heeseung started this whole thing of asking you about flirting. He was patient, however the urge to be yours and have you completely was swelling not-so-slowly, and he found an unexpected way to maybe drift you both through that invisible boundary line he wished to cross for so long.

There was no actual curiosity behind his question, it was pure and genuine longing and quiet hope for you to, perhaps, reciprocate those confused feelings that only led his heart to decide that he loved you.

And he loved you with his whole soul. 

“Come on,” Heeseung groaned after zoning out, now pushing his body to stand up before taking the seat next to you by scooching your legs away. 

You looked at him over your phone, frowning, your heart still pounding hard in your chest after going thoughtfully over the topic he just brought, pretending to spend your time on the screen when, actually, your head was filled with anxious and fearful thoughts.

Even so, you kept a straight face. 

“What?”

Heeseung sighed, shoulders dropping in something close to defeat and you took your time to move and sit on one of your legs, the other on the ground, casually hanging as you bounced it in order to expel your nervousness.

You didn’t notice your friend had tracked the motion for a quiet second, immediately understanding you had shifted your demeanor in a way he couldn't pinpoint yet, but he had a hunch about it. A suspicion that got his heartbeats notably increasing.

But you saw the exact moment he switched as he gathered the best of his decency to lock eyes with you, guiding the plan forward with excellency.

“Could you, please, for everything we have been through, for our beautiful friendship, and because you love me so, so much, answer my question?”

The drama in Heeseung’s voice was blatant and got you fighting back a grin that threatened to break free. His big-doe eyes flashing you an innocence you wittily figured out as coaxing, added to how he slowly batted his eyelashes, tilting his head only enough to look extra adorable, even curving his bottom lip to pull into a slight pout that had your attention lingering longer than you wanted. 

Once Heeseung learned that his charming eyes were one of your greatest weaknesses, he wasted no time to take advantage of it, oftenly catching you off guard by using his secret weapon to achieve certain goals, offering a soft, yet penetrating gaze that got your knees faltering in place.

He didn’t know with precision what made you so easy to pursue whenever he used that trick, nonetheless it was a big benefit either for simpler favors or big other things, like using your credit card to buy a collector figurine he didn’t have the money to buy during that time.

In that moment, however, Heeseung just wished for you not to catch the flicker of apprehension in his eyes, or the barely contained excitement that danced behind the facade of calmness and fake purity, because he didn’t aim to get something expensive or use your bathroom just to explore your good amount of skincare. 

His only objective was to cross that friendship line, to ruin it, and, if he was lucky enough, have you enjoying it as you both do so.

You pursed your eyelids and then cocked your head to the side, incredulous. “Seriously?” A chuckle echoed from your parted lips, softening your expression to endearing amusement since it pretty much worked all the time, even after you became fully aware of his tactic. “Using bambi-eyes and shit?”

Heeseung nodded with admirable speed, his entire behavior was almost infantile, resembling a shameless child about to get a pricey toy after playing the good kid for his parents, although he definitely did no good. He had a smirk on the very corner of his mouth, and his eyes glossed with complete feigned innocence. 

You damned yourself for being such a sucker for that boy, for allowing him to have that much power over your whole existence. 

And with that, you accepted your fate, your defiance. You had no idea of what was going to happen, let alone what the hell Heeseung wanted to know exactly. Yeah, girls flirting, but in which way? And why?

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, placing your phone away on the side table. Heeseung smiled brightly and shifted on his seat, his whole body now facing you, expectantly. You flashed a hesitant look, cheeks already flaming hot in a strange anticipation, not even bothering to chase for his gaze properly. “What do you wanna know?”

“Ok!” Heeseung nearly buzzed, his body jolting slightly as if electricity ran through it, revealing his excitement. “I’ll repeat the question so it won’t get weird, alright?” 

You allowed your throat to let out a small hum, nodding and eventually daring to glance up for a little, meeting the view of Heeseung's eyes beaming with something close to thrilling and mischievous.

A cold, yet silent shiver ran through your torso and you had to control yourself not to tremble when he glazed his gaze with yours, in a magnetic manner that left you with nothing but the necessity to oblige.

Though you had heard them quite a lot from the past few minutes, the following words didn’t ease your heart to weigh less; the amount of times wasn’t enough to get used to how they sounded to you.

“How do I know a girl is flirting with me?”

The air felt extremely thick, rarefied even, as if you were up on the clouds, out from any equipment of protection as you body travelled near to get out from the atmosphere, heavy in your lungs. 

Heeseung struggled to read your reaction at first. Silence. Pure lack of sounds, only a blank and slightly confused expression facing him.

It wasn’t like he was fully expecting you to partake in his idea, even though he planned to account for every possible outcome variant to achieve at least a fraction of his goal.

And yet, he didn’t have a clear objective. Perhaps he simply wanted to plant a seed of hope, mixed with a ‘what if?’, hoping you would realize his feelings ran far deeper than just friendship. And, if luck was on his side, that you might reciprocate – or at least begin to entertain the possibility.

He wanted to ruin that friendship, because he believed you could – no, should – be lovers instead.

You gulped down the lump forming in your neck, praying for some god to help you to release your nerves as soon as possible, otherwise the possibility of having a heart attack wouldn’t just be a fantasy; it would be a reality.

Although every cell in your body seemed to resonate with joy to step onto that untraveled road of your friendship, you couldn’t help the urge to run, to escape, to get away from that topic and move on with your life. 

For sure you both had conversations about similar concepts, but nothing close to personal-sexual subjects. Nothing similar to Heeseung asking you directly how flirting happens. 

“I think…” You sighed, fidgeting with the rings in your fingers. “It depends on the person…”

That reply was more open than Heeseung wanted, however, he didn’t press. 

Your tone was thoughtful, your gaze drifting to a random spot on the wall behind Heeseung and then you frowned, trying to recall how your other girl friends behaved whenever their crushes were nearby to give him a proper answer.

Heeseung studied your beautiful features intently, momentarily losing sight of his original purpose; his focus hovered longer on your lips, the same ones that taunted his self-control every single day, the same ones he dreamed about having attached to his own, the same ones he nearly said ‘fuck it’ and kissed.

Instead, keeping the natural and respectful approach and also using your words, he rephrased his question, bold and curious to explore furthermore.

“How do you flirt, then?”

You blinked your blurred, distant eyes back to Heeseung, widening them once you noticed not a single hint of hesitation within his speech, not even a drop of wavering as he held eye contact. Your furrowed eyebrows showed deep uncertainty, and Heeseung added, struggling a bit to sound firm, gesticulating with his nervous hands.

“Like, could you demonstrate?”

It hadn’t clarified anything. In fact, it only made everything more doubtable and chaotic, eliciting a tilt of your head and an even deeper frown.

What on earth was he talking about? Out of nowhere? With no precise context whatsoever? You hadn’t bought into his questioning from the start, especially because of how charming that guy in front of you could easily be, no shame at all. And now this – completely sudden and utterly unsubtle.

Heeseung hadn’t laid the groundwork before dropping this delicate bombshell in your lap.

“How do I flirt?” You retorted, emphasizing and pointing to yourself, dumbfounded.

“Yeah, like,” he shrugged, as if it was just a normal question to make to your best friend. “How do you normally flirt with your crushes?” 

You shook your head, your hands freezing in the air, your spinning head barely catching the mocking tone when Heeseung said crushes.  “No, like, I got that part,” you clutched your fists, narrowing your eyes, lips suddenly drying. “But…”

The tension clung in the silence and you could feel your heart ringing in your ears, almost ripping out from your rib cage. Your hands slowly dropped to your lap, resting there as you tried to find a recompose path out of that situation.

“But…?” Heeseung prodded, leaning ever so slightly closer, his curiosity palpable as much as his boldness.

“Do you want me to flirt with you?” You blurted out, struggling to understand the whole picture, a blend of dread and excitement swirling in your stomach that you failed to contain.

Heeseung’s breath rigged, apprehension heavy in his voice, afterall, that simple interaction had the strength, the weight of changing things between you two for good – and he was painfully aware of it. 

“It’s not like, flirt flirt,” he attempted to clarify himself, though it was clear he was growing increasingly nervous with each passing second. “I just wanna see how girls do it. And you’re a girl, as far as I know.” 

Heeseung was trying to sound nonchalant, to ease the tense air with his remarkable teasing smirk, as casual as ever, but the atmosphere had noticeably shifted and you weren’t sure about your thought process during that moment. 

You grabbed one of the couch’s pillows behind you and threw over him, both of you sharing a laugh that seemed a bit too forced to be real.

A rush of heat crept up your neck as you silently fumbled for the right words when the playful banter settled, leaving room for the reality of Heeseung requesting you to purposely flirt with him.

You also grasped with caution the way Heeseung’s gaze lingered on your figure, how it followed the movement of your teeth pressing on your bottom lip, how he mirrored your decision to wet the area with the tip of your tongue as well, drawing your attention towards his own attractive lips, planting, in your mind, a dangerous seed that had you considering a deeper, promiscuous touch. 

The whole moment felt like walking a tightrope in high heels and you were terrified of what might happen if you stumbled. Your friendship was too precious for you to lose it over a stupid mistake. But, God, why did it feel so tempting to surrender to it?

Heeseung looked at you with adoration and eagerness, his body surprisingly relaxed, or at least you read it like that, as if the scenery was as simple as one plus one, as though he had everything under control.

Little did you know he was extremely, ridiculously, intensely anxious of what cost he would have to be paying in order to not destroy everything. If you paid close attention, you would probably see his gray shirt moving to the strong beats of his heart, loud enough to make him wonder if he was going to survive the outcome.

Another sigh trailed off your mouth as you scratched the back of your neck, clearly torn between the open choices in front of you. You could easily opt to ignore that and shove Heeseung away with some joke, or perhaps answer his question without thinking too intensely about it; you could fake it, hiding your real feelings in a dialogue made up from your head. 

Or you could let your friendship fade into the depths of your lustful desire of having Heeseung for yourself as a whole man, shameless flirting with him the way you always wanted to. 

And then, it clicked. He was offering you the perfect opportunity, the perfect project to subtly guide your decisions, all while pushing you towards the inevitable conclusion: you were about to ruin that friendship.

“Fuck it,” you muttered under your breath to yourself, and right after your sharp, determined gaze met his, leaving no chance for any possible retort. “I think we need to fantasize a scenario, then.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the shift in tone but too intrigued to ask questions. “Why?” he smirked, leaning in slightly. “Does the scenario where you flirt with your best friend in your living room not quite match the vibe?”

You forced an exaggerated look of disgust, but it was more for show than anything else. Neither of you was fooled by your performance. “No, it doesn’t.”

Heeseung chuckled, the tension slowly melting between you two. But even as the laughter filled the air, the uncertainty of what was coming next buzzed in the back of your mind, tempting you to run. Yet, your heart, much to a surprise, was urging you to stay, to follow this dangerous path wherever it might lead.

“Ok. So let's just picture we're in a club–” Heeseung started, straightening his posture. 

“I don't go to clubs.” You quickly deadpanned, eliciting a small “oh” from him.

“Right.” He agreed, frowning while trying to think of another situation. “So…”

You sighed in defeat, biting your lip briefly before saying. 

“I'm your classmate and I have a huge crush on you…?” You blurted out in one breath, yet hesitant, feeling your entire face heat up with embarrassment.

Especially because the said scenario had already played out before, making it easier to go along with – or worse, making it feel way too realistic.

“Nice! That's a good one.” Heeseung replied, his voice carrying a cheerful tone that had you scrunching your nose at his obliviousness, though it wasn’t entirely his fault that you were harboring bottled-up feelings for him. “So what would you do?”

You toyed with your bottom lip, grazing it lightly with your teeth as you tried to quell your nerves, all while struggling to ignore the way your friend sounded urgent, excited, and unmistakably eager. It was as if the entire script had been meticulously crafted long ago. As if he genuinely and wholeheartedly wanted you to flirt with him and walk past the friends line.

Dangerously close.

Before you voiced out, you cleared your throat not to waver on your words. “So, since we're classmates, we'd probably see each other everyday...”

Heeseung nodded, his bambi-eyes following your every movement as you shifted on your seat slightly. “Yeah.”

“As a girl with a crush on you, I'd try my best to stand out somehow and grab your attention first. And the most common way is…” You paused, casting a wary glance towards Heeseung, as though your next words carried a weight too immense to risk uttering lightly. “Eye contact?”

After some time, locking eyes with Heeseung became an increasingly challenging task because it meant having the opportunity to take in every detail of his impossibly attractive face.

The faint mole on his forehead and the ones near his nose were like tiny stars adorning a beautiful sky; that very nose that made you want to squeal from how adorable and rounded its tip was, all while provoking thoughts far too indecent to entertain.

His constant parted lips carried an unique charm, naturally inviting with their slightly reddish hue. At times, they took on a deeper tone, whether from the way Heeseung pressed them together whenever he entered the deep concentration state or nibbled at them to suppress a laugh after teasing you.

If you dared let your gaze wander further, you would notice the sharp point of his chin and, just below it, his prominent Adam’s apple – a mesmerizing detail you never imagined could have such an effect on you. The subtle movement of it bobbing up and down held your focus captive as though it had the power to dictate your every subsequent action.

A sigh slipped from your lips before you even realized the silence that had overtaken you, nor the way Heeseung, with his warm brown eyes, oozed affection and attentiveness your way.

“You’re not making eye contact…” Despite his observation, there wasn’t a trace of reprimand in his tone. It was soft, like a summer breeze brushing against your skin, gentle yet impactful enough to make your eyes widen as you leaned back in surprise.

You hadn’t even noticed how close you had unconsciously leaned towards him.

“Sorry,” you muttered after clearing your throat, redirecting your gaze to a random spot in Heeseung’s lap. Yet, contrary to what you expected, he shifted forward, closing the distance further, his knees nearly brushing against yours.

You looked up at him, confusion and apprehension flickering in your expression, ready to ask why he was coming so close, but he left no room for your question.

“Does the proximity of the girl interfere with flirting?”

His tone was low, soft even, each word drawn out with deliberate care. It carried a designed tenderness that nudged the borders of unexplored intimacy between the two of you, crafted perfectly to unbalance your soul.

Breathing became difficult as your heart raced, your body begging you to flee.

“N–normally, it’s not this close.” You cursed yourself for stuttering, but how could you not? How could you remain composed when Heeseung’s voice carried an intimacy you had never heard before? You had never seen this side of him, never had him like this.

Your gaze latched onto the way his long eyelashes fluttered with each deliberate blink, the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips, and the way his breath mingled with yours as he leaned impossibly closer.

“Yeah?” He murmured, his eyes dipping briefly to your lips in a silent, daring plea to let actions replace words. “Then why are you this close?”

You desperately tried to come up with a coherent response, perhaps to point out that it was he who had closed the gap. But your mind had abandoned rationality, leaving you to stumble over a weak, “B–Because you sat there, you idiot.”

You broke eye contact abruptly, reality crashing over you like a tidal wave. The sheer weight of the moment urged you to shift away, to reclaim your space and calm the chaos in your chest.

But Heeseung wasn’t ready to let you go.

With surprising swiftness, he shifted his body upright and gently pulled your arm so you could get onto his lap, his hands holding you firmly yet carefully in place.

“No,” he murmured, shaking his head softly as his voice dropped an octave, steady and soothing, eliciting an immediate gasp from you. “I want to know how girls flirt when they’re this close.”

You found yourself awkwardly sitting sideways on his lap, blinking in confusion, hesitation etched into every line of your expression. All you could manage was a whispered “What?” that answered or replied nothing at all, it simply materialized into words something that reflected your genuine state.

Your breath hitched as Heeseung leaned in even closer, the heat of his body melding with yours like he was a powerful devil coming from the gates of Hell. His gaze, now tinged with something more potent that torn in between desire, yearning and  an unspoken question, stirred something wild within you.

And for a fleeting moment he hesitated, the weight of the uncharted territory between friendship and something deeper making him pause and analyze his possibilities, the small shift on his gaze betraying him. But as his fingers tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering on your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin, his resolve solidified.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his words as soft as the pad of his thumb tracing the curve of your lips. He gently tugged at your bottom lip, leaving you breathless, lips parted, and trembling. “I’m sorry for the way I went about this,” he added, his voice feather-light, his warm breath caressing your skin. “But I couldn’t think of another way to put us in this exact moment.”

Your body froze, your mind unable to fully process what was happening. One moment, Heeseung was your charming best friend who eventually became your lifelong crush, the next you were on his lap, in a compromising position and with your faces inches apart.

You were suffocating in the heavy atmosphere, unsure of how to respond to the rush of emotions crashing over you; it left you in a state of emotional overload, in shock, utterly overwhelmed.

And then, with a softness that cracked the air between you, that broke your tensed nerves and fluttered your chest, you saw his eyes falter, waiting for a sign, a proper answer for his following question.

“Can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering with words, you closed the remaining space yourself, your lips meeting in a collision of longing, and, so far, unspoken feelings that were buried deep in both of your souls, now lingering in the atmosphere as a quiet, yet delectable high voltage cursing over your body that you struggled deliciously to drift through. 

Torn in a conflict of decisions and a mutual desire, you had finally tasted what had been tempting you for so long. The softness, the warmth, the way Heeseung’s lips fit so perfectly against yours, tailored to match you as if they were meant to be.

Crossed everything you had imagined, now buzzing like a soft echo of reminiscences from when kissing Heeseung equated to a fever dream, to impossible, unattainable. 

Your body seemed to float in contact to soft clouds that gently embraced you; and then you realized that it was Heeseung holding you tenderly, kindly tracing the curves of your waist in a position that, now, was anything but comfortable.

Even so, the world outside felt like it didn't exist anymore. There was only the two of you, kissing with your breaths mingling intimately, with quiet sounds of contentment slipping out between that touch, one you had longed for far too long to waste the seconds that followed.

You deepened it, seeking Heeseung's tongue with yours almost desperately. The shock of the encounter of the two warm muscles was intoxicating, leaving you completely weak, and had you not been sitting, you would have easily fallen to the ground.

Kissing Heeseung at that moment felt like a relief. Relief in knowing that you were both on the same page when it came to the shared connection. Relief in realizing that his mouth desired you as much as yours craved his.

It was comforting to acknowledge how your body fit into his, in every possible way.

And it was then that you became aware of how your hands had automatically found their way into the soft strands of Heeseung's hair, pulling him just enough to draw the small grunts he released each time you did.

Your heart skipped a beat when Heeseung pulled away, tugging your lower lip with a soft bite. You opened your eyes slightly to search for an answer, fearing that regret had hit him like a powerful, striking bolt, but the truth was: he just needed to breathe in order to stay grounded and aware of what had just happened.

Shit. He was completely fucked, because now he knew how incredible it was to hear your breath hitch, to feel your fingers glide across his goosebumped skin with a tender, tempting touch, almost filthy, as your mouths melded together in an unprecedented rhythm.

He knew what it was like to have you intimately, and losing that feeling started to be his most intense fear.

Heeseung hadn't noticed, but there was a faint frown on his forehead that stirred conflicting emotions in you. He breathed heavily, almost panting while searching for air in his lungs. His eyes lowered, hypnotized by your parted lips, which willingly offered themselves to him.

It felt like a sweet indulgence, completely exposed, like someone on a strict diet, almost forbidden from indulging in the delicious taste of your mouth.

One simple kiss and he was completely undone, in the most delightful way possible. And beyond that, he began to crave you even harder. Dangerously harder. “What’s wrong?” You asked, a mild frighten cursing through your veins, your voice barely above a whisper as your fingers continued to caress Heeseung's neck.

Your hooded eyes tried to pull an explanation for why he had stopped so suddenly.

He let out a low chuckle, a sound deep enough to make you shiver inside, sending a strange energy straight to between your thighs that made you unconsciously clench your legs, as your panties started to damp.

Heeseung’s hand, resting there, immediately noticed, making him smirk and lift his gaze. “You,” he sealed his lips with yours, “are unreal,” followed by another small kiss and, once again, a pause to admire you.

Heeseung looked at you with passion and tenderness, but mostly with desire. He wanted you.

No. 

He needed you.

You swallowed hard as you met his piercing gaze before he stood up, making you rise with him. Standing, he grabbed you by the waist and, still smiling, kissed the corner of your lips without any proper explanation. 

Your hands felt awkwardly frozen in mid-air, near Heeseung’s chest, as if you forgot how to function as a human being. To ease your visible tension and also taking some advantage of the moment, Heeseung lowered his mouth and planted a sweet trail of small, wet kisses down to your neck.

Your head immediately tilted to the side, almost as if he had typed the right password to gain free access to explore your body,  his large hands cupping your ass with just the right balance of respect and desire. While you allowed him this closeness, he was careful not to overstep, not when you both had only just begun to unravel that delicate part of your... friendship?

Gradually, you let yourself go, questioning less and following the flow deliberately; your hands now resting on Heeseung’s broad shoulders while he continued his project of driving you insane with his kisses.

“Hee…” You sighed softly when his teeth grazed a particularly sensitive spot near your ear, too sensitive to keep you quiet, weak enough to make your knees nearly give way involuntarily.

“Don’t call me like that, baby…” Heeseung murmured softly against your skin, the vibration of his voice aligning with the tremor in your core, the endearment compelling you to clutch your eyes closed. Before you could even think of apologizing, he continued. “Or else I’ll get harder. And this fucking boner is already annoying me.”

For a brief, considerable second, you couldn’t comprehend his statement, your eyes opening in pure confusion as you stared at him, silently asking for an explanation. But Heeseung remained hidden in your neck, and you could even feel the ghost of his mischievous smile tracing your skin, rendering your mind incapable of thinking about anything other than his inebriating presence.

Then, he thrusted forward, just enough to press his hips against your body while gripping your waist to prevent you from stumbling back, and you felt it.

The layers of fabric between you two did nothing to mask the clarity of his intentions, not when he subtly, but unmistakably, demonstrated what he was referring to – a bulge sufficiently big to elicit a jolt of a quiver through your being, firm and clearly starting to grow painfully hard as Heeseung began to repeat that move.

So you had that effect on him? You turned him on? That was an unexpected delight. The warmth of it made you squirm in sudden discomfort, wishing you could feel it in a different way – one with fewer clothes.

Heeseung’s lascivious kisses on your neck switched to sloppy-messy ones, merging with the subtle grind of his hips against yours as he seeked for the smallest release to his thirst. The sensation made you let out a soft, almost teasing moan, provoking his restraint to the brim.

“Fuck…” he groaned, faltering by the way you were letting him grind shamelessly like a dog in heat, still fully clothed. “Tell me to stop, please..." His voice was ragged, like an aching, shaky plea that made his movements halt, since his focus turned inward in order to find some self-control.

But didn’t give such a command. Instead, you opened the door, not-so-silently inviting Heeseung deeper into the moment, into you. You couldn’t care less about your friendship, not when you craved to have your said best friend touching you intimately, to have his length twitching inside you while fucking your senses out of you as if his life depended on it.

You shook your head, a sly smile curving your lips when you whispered right in his ear. 

“Take me to my room, Hee.”

His desperation thickened as he surrendered to the overwhelming warmth between you two, a vocal groan cursing through his throat when he maneuvered easily your body by grabbing your thighs, inciting you to wrap your legs around his waist as he busied his mouth in yours, messily guiding both of you to the your room. 

You found support on his shoulders and giggled in between the sloppy kiss, but you couldn’t quite enjoy the feeling of his strong grip surrounding your body with precision for too long, as your back quickly reached the soft mattress of your bed.

Heeseung's big figure towered over you, scooching up as a way to help you both find a comfortable position until your head was touching one of your pillows, lips still attached to each other in pure hunger.

You wondered if putting your feelings into words would add to the moment, but nothing truly needed to be said. The unspoken tension you shared with Heeseung had carried your relationship this far – this wasn’t the time to disrupt it with confessions of the obvious. Not when you had him kissing you so intensely, so voraciously, as though he were utterly parched and you were his only source of relief.

It felt exhilarating to have Heeseung this needy, his body reacting to every subtle motion of yours. You rolled your hips gently against his, seeking mutual friction in a desperate bid for release.

Your fingers wandered through his disheveled hair, occasionally trailing down his subtly muscular arms – the very arms that had always been your weakness.

Heeseung wasn’t bulky or overly built, but he had a lean, breathtaking frame, with just the right amount of definition in certain places. Supporting his weight on the bed, you could feel the tension in his arms under your touch, muscles tightening even more each time your hands dared to drift lower, grazing his back, your nails lightly scratching.

The slight scrape drew delicious sighs from him, each one lost in the fervor of your kiss.

Heeseung’s free hand explored wherever it could reach, teasingly brushing beneath the hem of your shirt, as though waiting for your silent permission to go further. And you took your cue right away.

“Hee…” you broke the intense, breath-stealing kiss to murmur his name, your voice soft, your eyes barely open as the world around you seemed heavier, hotter.

He reacted instantly to the familiar nickname, though now it carried a filthy weight that would linger with him forever. His hips pressed against yours in a motion that sent a shockwave through your core, the direct contact of his pelvis with yours setting you alight.

Lifting his gaze to meet yours, he found pure, unrestrained lust staring back at him. The words that followed made him falter, disbelief flashing across his features at the reality of what he had craved for so long finally coming true.

“I want you,” you whispered, eyes tenderly, yet oozing with desire looking at his brown orbs.

Heeseung’s jaw tightened as he swallowed hard, his expression shifting to something taut, focused. He studied you with care, searching for hesitation, for any trace of doubt in your plea. But he found none, only mutual desire, raw and unfiltered.

A breath of laughter escaped him, quiet and disbelieving, as his lips, swollen and glistening with your shared kisses, curved into a cheeky, yet content and relieved, smile.

“Don’t laugh…” You whined, squirming beneath him in a feeble attempt to escape his teasing gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he said with his voice low, gravelly, making you shiver. “It’s just… This feels like a dream.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks and you failed to hold back a smile. “So, you’ve dreamed about me?”

“Every single day, Y/N,” Heeseung admitted, his eyes dropping to your lips once again, heavy with yearning, with need. 

He looked intoxicated, or maybe hypnotized. Whatever it was, he felt as though his body had transcended reality itself. Because even in his dreams, he never imagined having you like this – so real, so wholly his.

“Tell me that again…” A delicate plea. “Please,” a desperate beg.

“What?” You whispered back in confusion, your eyelids feeling heavy with the proximity of the moment, making it difficult to keep admiring the tempting view of Heeseung slowly falling apart.

“That you want me.”

Heeseung’s perfume had taken over you, invading your senses completely like a flood, and you were the one feeling drunk right now, as a deep goosebump ran through your spine hearing – understanding – his request.

“I want you,” you repeated, your voice trembling with the weight of confessing something so intrinsic. 

Heeseung's breath mingled with yours, shaky, weak; the warmth of it ghosting over your lips as he hovered above you was making you dizzy. His gaze burned into yours, holding a quarter of darkness and contrastingly tenderness that matched his impossibly gentle touch on your waist. 

He moved deliberately, savoring the anticipation building up quite fast, stirring an ache that got your stomach bubbling with expectation and a weird anxiety. You tightened your grip on his hair when the tip of his cute nose brushed against yours and his reddened lips grazed over your mouth.

“Again, please,” he murmured in a husky whisper; due to the closeness, the movement tickled the skin of your lips and spurred you to lick the area, your tongue caressing both your swollen lips.

You sighed, closing your eyes.

You could feel your core pulsing in need, your skin prickling due to the insufferable tension that grew stronger, ticker, teetering the unbearable within each second, making you wonder how longer you would be able to hold yourself back. 

The magnetic tension surrounding you two made every breath feel like a desperate beg, igniting a hunger within you so fierce it consumed you.

Felt like the last thing you would ever crave in your life was right before you. But apparently, Heeseung longed to hear you speak a little more before taking any action.

“I want you, Hee,” you said again, quieter this time, though your tone was no less intense – it was even more raw.

Heeseung’s lashes fluttered shut for a moment, absorbing the confession like it was his lifeline. He repeated the motion of rubbing his nose on yours, now tilting his head to the side and groaning. That couldn't be real. You couldn’t be real.

He needed one more. Just. One. More.

“One more, please…” he pleaded, the words slipping out between deep, controlled breaths that did nothing to mask the tremor of desperation in his tone.

“I need you, Heeseung.”

His forehead pressed lightly against yours as he exhaled a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging with the weight of restraint. The charged air between you seemed to thicken, wrapping you both in an intoxicating haze.

Despite the tenderness of the moment, the desire simmering beneath the surface was undeniable – present in the way his hands traced delicate patterns along your waist, in the way his chest rose and fell with the rhythm of yours, in the way his lips hovered, so close yet so agonizingly distant.

“I need you right now, Hee. Please.”

And with your last wish, Heeseung obeyed your command.

Followed by a passionate kiss, one he tried to take his time to appreciate your taste, he also held the waistband of your shorts and, after your silent nod amidst the clash of your mouths when he hesitated, he began to move it down to your thighs, revealing the softness of your bare skin to his curious hands. 

Thick fingers brushed against your sensitive bundle of nerves, the thin barrier of your panties doing little to dull the sensation. The whimper that followed barely met the real world, swallowed whole by Heeseung’s eager mouth as he drank in your expressive, delicate reactions, savoring every trembling note like a melody meant only for him.

“So wet.” Heeseung stated the obvious after feeling your arousal sticking across the fabric, playfully tapping just to tease and feel its viscosity.

If the room was quiet enough, he would be able to hear the wet sound of his pats. 

He dived into your neck since he couldn’t keep up with the pace of the shared kiss, not when you were letting out such beautiful noises as he pressed his fingers on your entrance over your clothing piece, taunting that release that seemed far to reach.

“Hee–” You whined in frustration, swinging your hips towards Heeseung’s fleeting touches as well as tightening your grasp on his locks.

“I know, I know,” he chuckled, deep and low. You pouted when he flashed you a charming smirk, matching perfectly with his amused, yet playful eyes. “Let me take care of you, mhm?”

And with that, Heeseung made quick work of removing the rest of your clothing, still caught around your thighs, panties included. He bit his lip, a soft sigh escaping alongside a subtle furrow of his brow in delight as he took in the full view of your pussy, glistening with your wetness – all caused by him. 

You wanted to close your legs and hide, but he held you open and exposed to his sight. Heeseung could feel his stomach fluttering, tightening with sparkling expectation. 

Beneath the teasing slowness of his movements, there was a Heeseung teetering dangerously close to the edge of insanity, warring to find some self-control. And it was entirely your fault.

The effect you had on Heeseung was nothing short of surreal. Even the simple act of your consent, given with every piece of fabric he slid away from your body, only served to fuel the fire within his desire, leaving his body, mind, soul, everything he had drunk on the sheer anticipation of what was to come.

“Fucking beautiful, baby.”

The compliment was common – Heeseung always praised your good looks. But the endearment slipped past his lips with extra ease, as if calling you baby – his baby – was as natural as a heartbeat, as expected as blossoming flowers during spring. 

By the way your cheeks warmed, you could tell your entire face was betraying your shyness, especially when Heeseung offered you a genuine, content smile, as if he were expressly happy that you had allowed him to see you in this form.

He still hadn’t unclasped your bra and had only removed his own shirt, dragging out painfully the moment of leaving you both naked.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t help the small flicker of worry, a strong fear of disappointing Heeseung.

You had only had sex once in your life, with an ex-boyfriend you had trusted enough to take that step, believing that being in a relationship would make it less hurtful and more enjoyable. You were wrong.

Not only had you suffered physically from his lack of care, but you hadn’t even come close to reaching your own orgasm.

Heeseung knew the rough outline of that story. He was aware that you weren’t a virgin anymore but hadn’t asked for too many details. Partly because he hated the thought of someone else being the one to take that from you.

A pang of jealousy lingered, even though, at the time – just a few months ago – he hadn’t seriously considered taking such a step with you.

It was only after your breakup, and the frustration that radiated off you, that Heeseung decided to act. He couldn’t stand the idea of you putting yourself down, settling for men who gave you less than the bare minimum, when he was right there, longing to give you the world.

“Let me see you too, Hee.”

Your soft request came accompanied by a gentle caress over Heeseung’s slightly flustered cheeks, his lovingly expression hiding the inner battle he was fighting to keep himself composed.

He gave a small nod, standing up from the bed to remove the last of his clothes, granting you the sinful sight of his body, a thin sheen of sweat accentuating the bronzed tone of his skin. Your gaze dropped slowly towards his erection, standing stiff, flushed, with the tip in a darker shade, glistening with leaking precum. 

“Hot,” you murmured quietly, the word barely leaving your lips. But in the stillness of the room, Heeseung heard it.

A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, shy and uncharacteristic – a glimpse of the awkward, reserved side of your friend that you loved teasing, the side that wasn’t used to receiving compliments and always got adorably flustered when they came.

You giggled, beckoning him with a curl of your finger. “Come here, hmm?”

And who was Heeseung to deny you?

In an instant, he reclaimed his place over your body, his mouth finding its way to the smoothness of your chest, lips grazing and tasting your skin. His hands slid behind your back, intent on finally removing the last piece of fabric that kept you hidden from him, and it took less than seconds for you to whimper, slamming your eyes shut as you felt Heeseung gently nip at your nipple.

“Hurry up,” you muttered within a squirm. “Please, Hee. I need you inside me."

You were quick and precise in expressing your desire, your contorted expression of pleasure blended with frustration making it clear that you didn’t want any more delays, especially since he had already dragged things out too much, and you were about to crawl the walls around you to feel him properly.

“Condom?” He murmured against your skin, smiling slightly at your desperation, though he was just as bad, if not worse.

“I don’t have it,” you moaned as he bit your stomach while lowering his hot, wet kisses. Your hands tried to find support in anything – the sheets, his hair, his shoulders – in order to ground yourself, while Heeseung seemed too calm for his own good. “But we don’t need it.”

Immediately, Heeseung froze. He stopped and lifted his gaze, scanning your face for any trace of teasing or hesitation in your words, half-expecting you to be joking or playing around, but instead, all he found was the raw, unfiltered desire of your soul exposed before him.

“I trust you,” you whispered in between your heavy breaths, a soft smile tugging at your lips that countered any remnant doubt resting inside Heeseung. You gently caressed his cheek, pulling him back to you, your eyes locking in a quiet promise that only you two knew the meaning. “I trust you, Hee.”

That was the tipping point. You, who had been wondering how Heeseung maintained such control, watched as his tender nearly relaxed gaze vanished entirely, swallowed by a wave of desire, as if pure lust had consumed his state completely.

“Don’t say that, love,” a murmur. His voice trembled, just as his arms struggled to hold himself still. He then kissed you intensely, shutting down any possibility of you retorting the pet name, barely giving you time to recognize how your heart skipped a beat.

Heeseung’s hips shifted in the precise motion to bring you closer, to claim you. You shivered.

“I’m going insane, you have no fucking idea.”

Though the choice of words said behind gritted teeth, it was clear Heeseung gravitated towards vulnerability rather than anything harsh; he sounded unsteady, but not in a worrying way. It seemed as if he had surrendered completely to your existence, almost like a personal devotion.

His soft, now familiar lips found home on yours again, pulling you into a singular kiss filled with unspoken emotions, while one of Heeseung's hands gently caressed your waist to keep you still, beginning to position his hardness against your aching hole.

Feeling the distinct pressure in that area generated an unconscious and uncontrollable tension in you, your shoulders stiffening, your hands gripping Heeseung's arms immediately and your mouth stopping properly working as the fear of the pain that would follow from that simple action started to creep up your spine.

“What's wrong, love?” Heeseung asked kindly, pausing his movements as he noticed the sudden rigidity in your body; he had only inserted the tip, and you had become completely tense.

“N–Nothing…” You shook your head, your eyes clenched closed as you tried to regulate your heartbeat and breaths. So far, there was no burning sensation where Heeseung had placed himself, but still, you were afraid.

By any means he was big, you had gotten a beautiful view of him just a few minutes ago, and although your mouth watered to have him fully inside you, there was a lingering feeling that held your soothness back.

“Baby…” Heeseung murmured softly, his voice carrying a subtle insistence as he sensed the clear discomfort and the blatant lie in your response, his concerned eyes searching for any hint of truth in your contorted expression.

“I’m sorry.” You pouted, refusing to open your eyes, the weight of vulnerability overwhelming you.

“For what?” He asked, a small trace of confusion in his voice, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he offered you the choice to end it without guilt or hesitation. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” You blurted, snapping your eyes open, your pupils wide and searching his face. Your head shook vehemently, your hands gripping his shoulders in a reflexive act of urgency as well as your legs, wrapping around his waist to keep him in place.

“Then what is it, baby?”

Heeseung adjusted his body slightly, his movements deliberate and tender, ensuring he wouldn’t press into you too forcefully. He kept his tip brushing against your folds, the sensation teasingly close but never quite crossing the threshold. He silently made the decision not to push you further unless you signaled otherwise.

“It’s just…” You exhaled shakily, your eyes downcast, unable to meet his unwavering gaze. “I’ve never– I mean, I did have sex once, but it was so painful, and it hurt so much, and I didn’t even… Y’know…”

You spoke in a flurry, your words tumbling out in a nervous rush, and through it, Heeseung caught the part of the story you had kept hidden and he never dared to ask about. His heart clenched, it became clear that this was a truth that now needed care.

“He wasn’t even that big, but it hurt because he didn’t care about me, and–”

“My love.” Heeseung interrupted, his voice breaking through with a soft, comforting tone. You stopped speaking instantly, blinking up at him with those wide, innocent eyes that held so much unspoken trust. He smiled warmly, a reassuring tenderness in his touch. “I’d never hurt you,” he whispered, his voice firm with sincerity. “And I’d never, ever force you to do anything you don’t want.”

“I want you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, needy, desperate even. “I’m just… afraid.”

“We can take it slow, love,” he said, his words a mutual understanding between you both, the promise of patience in his voice.

He slowly began to press his tip into you again, the sensation soft but insistent, giving you time to adjust. You swallowed thickly, your breath hitching as you tried to calm the anxiety racing through you.

There were sounds threatening to escape your throat that you couldn't properly control, so you just let them out.

“Relax, alright? It’s me. I’m your best friend. I’m not going to hurt you. We can stop whenever you want.”

Through reassuring phrases and tender kisses planted over your face – and mainly on your parted lips –, Heeseung deliberately entered you whole, until his dick was being hugged by your clenching walls and his pelvis fully met your body.

You took a deep breath several times. The sensation was uncomfortable, strange; there was an intruder inside you, and you couldn't quite enjoy the so-called pleasure during sex due to it, but as the long seconds passed and your body relaxed, you began to adjust to the weight of Heeseung's length inside you.

And finally you noticed that Heeseung himself had buried his face at the crook of your neck, breathing as heavy as you, completely frozen in place.

“Hee?” You called and gave a soft stroke to his hair. 

“Give me a minute,” the words came rapidly and slurred, like an incomprehensible mumble.

You quirked an eyebrow, trying to find his face to read whatever was happening.

“Are you okay?”

Heeseung groaned. “Yes. It’s just…” He gulped, clutching his eyes closed and grunting a curse, his hands tightening their grip on your waist. “Fuck—You feel amazing, baby.” His breath hitched as his body tensed, muscles flexing under the strain of trying to hold back. “I need a minute.”

“Alright…” 

Although you couldn’t understand why, you just… Waited. But he made sure to add.

“So fucking tight–” Something about how desperate and lost he sounded close to your ear had your walls clenching even more. “I can’t– I don’t wanna cum right now.”

There was no plausible explanation for the flutter in your chest, let alone the heat that spread across every inch of your skin, hitting your core in a way that was almost overwhelming after hearing his confession.

Knowing that Heeseung was physically unable to move, simply because his release was so close – practically edging himself – made you feel more thrilled than you would ever admit out loud.

As the best of friends – after all, you hadn’t defined your relationship yet –, you chose the path of teasing, letting out a light giggle and giving a playful tap on his back as you said, “Take your time, big boy. I'm not going anywhere.”

Heeseung chuckled, though the sound was tinged with frustration and craving, the weight of his restraint still palpable.

Throughout the heated makeout moment, he was already far too affected – though he wouldn’t admit it now, having your lips against his had been more than enough to leave him ridiculously hard. The shameless grinding had teased his sensitivity with just the right intensity, pushing him dangerously close to the edge.

Now, finally experiencing the tightness of your pussy enveloping around his cock, it was a unique kind of downfall that made his control slip past his fingers, his entire body shivering as trying to contain himself. 

“I wanna– I wanna last longer for you,” a breathy, shaky moan escaped when he tried to move, pulling back just a little to shove back again. “Fuck baby…”

Heeseung was on the verge of insanity.

He couldn’t find the right explanation to how good your wet, warm interior welcomed him in an addictive sensation of fulfillment, as if he had found the exact place he needed and wanted to be.

However, as he began to set a slow, tantalizing rhythm, not only to himself but for you not to feel any pain, your soft, breathy noises became the driving force behind his every move.

Each sound you made was like music to his ears, embedding itself deeply in his mind and shaping his every decision; they spurred him on, a motivator to remain as steady and deliberate as possible, even as his own restraint threatened to crumble.

Heeseung was vividly avoiding to fall into the depths of his true needs of egoisticaly fucking you hard and fast.

And then, you begged.

“Can you go faster? Please?”

A guttural groan was Heeseung’s immediate response, primal and unrestrained, as if your request alone had sent him reeling like a starving hunter finally closing in on its prey.

He paused for a beat, letting the weight of your words settle between the thick air and then shifted the pace, growing more intense, aiming for a sharper, purposeful motion.

Heeseung straightened slightly, lifting his torso enough to pull his face from the haven of your neck and give himself a clear view of your beautiful pleasured face. His gaze met yours briefly before going downward, to the mesmerizing connection of your bodies moving together – your hips chasing his pounds like your life depended on it. 

Your hazed sight saw his brows furrowing as well as his pursed lips that reflected his immense concentration. Sweat clung to his skin, a few damp strands of hair got stuck to his forehead while the rest, equally damp, fell forward and lightly brushed your face with every thrust.

That sight was a sinful privilege; watching him completely undone yet intensely focused was enough to leave you breathless. And still, your slightly high-pitched whimpers harmonized with each precise thrust.

You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, and instinctively, you mirrored that grip in your hands, clutching Heeseung’s hair as you pulled him into a messy kiss. Tongues moved sloppily, chasing each other and swallowing his deep groans along with your incoherent pleas for him not to stop.

A mutual desire began to creep, one that neither of you wanted to escape, a longing as deep as two bodies yearning, painfully, to occupy the same space and merge together. It became evident in the way you clung to him, your arms wrapping around Heeseung's warm, sweaty body, pressing him down, not even caring about the slight pain in your sensitive boobs as you did so.

“I think I’m close,” you managed to announce amidst the intoxicating chaos of your senses.

There was a thick veil of lust enveloping you both, leaving you utterly dazed; the sensation was surreal, overwhelmingly good, and for the first time you truly understood what people meant when they talked about sex.

Heeseung had heard your voice distant and muffled, since his mind had drifted away, lost in the overwhelming mix of pleasure and the aching pain of edging his orgasm; his leaking precum started to blend with your sticky arousal as both of you reached over the edge.

Your eyes rolled when Heeseung started to pound into a specific spot in you, stirring your mouth to fall open with soft cries slipping past your throat, while your nails dug into the flesh of his back, scratching strong enough to leave marks. 

Heeseung barely registered it at first, though he would wear those marks proudly once he did. Still, it stung, a faint burn that somehow awakened his primal need to let go. Added to it, your pussy started to pulse and clench tightly against his painfully sensitive shaft. And so, he begged.

“Please, cum for me,” a small pause to breathe. “Please, I need you to– Please…” 

Your eyes fluttered shut and you trembled. Listening to Heeseung’s broken voice asking you for something you couldn’t quite control bordered the inexplicable and finally it snapped. 

You arched your back and went silent immediately, as if the entire world around you disappeared. You could hear and feel the weight of your heartbeats echoing through you, feel the vibrations of your body, hear the faint, distant noises of Heeseung’s moans and curses and the sound of your bodies colliding.

The intensity of your climax had you gasping for air right after you managed to regain a small portion of your consciousness, your legs squirming as the pleasure took over. 

Meanwhile, Heeseung barely pulled out in time, ensuring he had guided you through your high enough to leave you satisfied.

He would blame himself later for not giving you his absolute best. For now, his focus was on relieving the unbearable, painful tightness in his balls and dick. And so he did, releasing a guttural groan that seemed to resonate from the depths of his soul before spilling out into a delicious sound.

The wave that coursed through his body was devastatingly intense, leaving him trembling and unsteady to the point where his arms briefly faltered in holding him up.

You parted your tired eyes just enough to watch as he came all over your stomach – so much of it that it trickled down onto the sheets beneath you, leaving you completely sticky.

Both of you fought for air, desperately panting as your bodies surrendered, sinking into an overwhelming state of relaxation. A genuine urge to drift into sleep washed over you, your arms falling limply at your sides as your heavy-lidded eyes fought a losing battle to stay open.

You gave up to the exhaustion, watching through half-closed eyes as Heeseung collapsed into the space beside you. 

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured softly, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek.

You tried to blink away your fatigue, but only managed to respond in a low, drowsy whisper, “For what?”

“I lost control. I didn’t do as well as I wanted to. I ruined your sheets. And… you’re all sticky. I know you hate being sticky.”

A quiet giggle escaped your lips at his string of concerns, your body vibrating with a warm, joyous satisfaction at the depth of the bond you shared. It was the expected contrast: Heeseung, overthinking every detail of his performance, and you, utterly smitten, finding his anxieties endearing.

“I loved it, Hee.”

Your praise was genuine, carrying a soft hint of reassurance to ease his insecurity. There wasn’t a single part of you that could ever truly mind the things he listed – not even his so-called mistakes.

“You were gentle and loving,” you continued, brushing a hand against the arm that sweetly wrapped around you, avoiding the result of the earlier moment. 

Heeseung’s face pressed against yours with his breath tickling your skin – an intimacy you could easily grow used to, but for now, had your heart fluttering. 

“And even when you ‘lost control,’ you stayed here. With me.”

Heeseung hummed with a hint of contentment, a faint smile creeping through his tensed barriers after your comforting words. He shifted like a puppy snuggling into a cozy corner, a gesture he did with you a few times before, but never when you were both so intimately bare in that way.

You both remained silent for a while, absorbing the reality of what had just unfolded.

No openly affectionate words were exchanged. Instead, actions took the lead, allowing you to share an intimate, deeply personal moment guided by mutual pleasure. There was no need for a romantic confession – it felt unnecessary.

Every small gesture during the earlier moment – from Heeseung's steady calmness as he talked you through it, easing your anxiety, to the way you reassured him after the end about how well he did – spoke volumes. It was more than enough to prove that the love between you burned far beyond the bounds of friendship.

Heeseung was lost in thought, exhilarated by having been able to share such a profound connection with you. The mutual desire for each other was undeniable, and no words could ever compare to the overwhelming sensation of, now, not simply having the facility to say he loved you – as he had so often as a friend – but to show it.

To demonstrate to you how every fiber of his being, his soul, his existence, was drawn to you, yearning for you, consumed by you.

“Hm, this sticky thing on my stomach is really bothering me,” you broke the silence as the haze cleared and the awareness of your body set in. You pushed his arm aside, preparing to leave the bed and clean yourself up.

“Shit,” Heeseung’s eyes widened, and he got on his feet before you could.

As he had  mentioned earlier, you hated feeling sticky. He realized might had fucked it up by neglecting to help you clean up, by not providing the aftercare you deserved.

Yet, he couldn’t blame himself too harshly; everything about the moment had left him utterly dizzy in the best way possible. It felt like he had lived out a dream once thought unattainable, and the surrealness of it all still lingered.

Your soft, familiar voice snapped him back to reality, reminding him there were consequences to address, and he wanted nothing more than to face each one with you, in every detail, if it meant staying by your side.

“Let me help, okay?” He eagerly offered, reaching out to steady you as you sat up. He barely suppressed a laugh at the grimace that overtook your face as the sticky fluid slid from your stomach to your thighs.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you teased as you walked to the bathroom together. “You’re hot, and all of this was ridiculously amazing, but I really don’t like all this cum–”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence. Heeseung interrupted, gently but insistently pushing you to sit on the toilet. 

“Pee,” he instructed firmly, yet calm.

You blinked up at him in confusion, one eyebrow raised.

“It helps prevent infections,” he clarified.

“I know,” you rolled your eyes, staring at him for a moment. He stared back. The scene was unexpectedly comical – both of you naked, exchanging deadpan looks.

“Get out of the bathroom, silly.”

“I don’t think that’s really neces–”

“I can’t pee with you here,” you cut him off.

He narrowed his eyes at you but eventually let out a quiet, “Fine, fine,” leaving the bathroom with an exaggerated huff, though he didn’t bother closing the door.

You giggled at his childish behavior, marveling at the man who had once been your friend. Friend.

It wasn’t the right word anymore. Something more significant had blossomed between you, unspoken yet undeniably present.

Once you finished, Heeseung returned to the bathroom and began to bathe you. It was endearing to feel his gentle, careful touch as he cleaned your back, giving you the space to take care of yourself properly.

You helped him wash his hair in return, complaining when he tried to use your expensive shampoo. But you relented when he deployed his infallible tactics: wide, pleading eyes and an exaggerated pout, softly begging, “Please,” in a tone so whiny it was impossible not to laugh.

Your heart ached with love for this man. The one who had once been your friend and, now, the one with whom you had crossed the line.

When you returned to the bedroom, Heeseung had already changed the sheets, leaving the bed fresh and inviting, ready to welcome you back into its warmth.

“Lie down here with me?” You murmured softly.

The sun was already below the horizon, and the air was pleasantly cool. A gentle breeze slipped through the slight gap in the window, rustling the curtains and brushing against your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps

The warmth of your recent shower made you extra sensitive to the chill, and noticing this, Heeseung moved to close the window before settling into the empty space beside you.

It didn’t take long for you to naturally nestle into one another, as though this kind of closeness was second nature. And it was.

You had always been comfortable with affectionate touches – warm hugs and innocent caresses were a constant part of your daily routine, alongside the playful teasing that defined your relationship. But now, something new lingered in the air: a tension, subtle and undeniable, that neither of you seemed brave enough to confront.

It felt as though acknowledging the shift, putting words to the new dynamic between you, might unravel it entirely – like opening Pandora’s box and being swallowed by its consequences. Neither of you knew what “dating” the other would look like, nor could you say for certain that this was even the stage you had reached. The unspoken remained deafeningly loud.

Your heart raced as you melted into the comforting warmth of Heeseung’s embrace. The familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach now mingled with a bittersweet sense of uncertainty about what lay ahead.

Despite that, you were usually the one to take control in slightly uncomfortable situations – like when Heeseung started bringing certain acquaintances into the apartment you shared, one of whom had wandered into your room uninvited, sparking a minor conflict that Heeseung quickly accepted responsibility for.

“If you promise to stop ignoring the elephant in the room, I promise to do the same,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

Heeseung had been waiting for you to speak first. You always did. And that thought made a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. Even after everything, you were still... you.

Always you.

He was afraid, of course, that things might change drastically. There was a gnawing fear that the friendship you shared could crumble in the worst possible way. But in moments like this, when you unconsciously reminded him that no matter what, it was still the two of you, he felt a sense of calm.

“Go on a date with me tomorrow,” he murmured suddenly.

You blinked, caught off guard by his directness. His voice was quiet, a little tentative, but firm enough to make you pause. Even with a slight tremor of apprehension at the thought of stepping into the unknown with him, you nodded.

“Only if it’s not a movie date,” you replied with a light tone.

Heeseung laughed, his chest rising and falling as the sound escaped him, and the sensation of your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his abdomen made him shiver.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured you.

You tilted your head to meet his gaze. The way he looked at you, dripping with unfiltered affection was almost overwhelming in the best way. And you knew, just as he did, that the feelings you held for him were reciprocated in full.

You had crossed the line, yes. But now, together, you were venturing into new territory, ready to claim and navigate this uncharted space in your relationship. And somehow, it didn’t feel so terrifying when you remembered that, no matter what, it was still the two of you against the world.

[knavcsblade]

unprofessional.

+18!

cw: professor/dilf!arlecchino x student!reader. NOT highschool; both arlecchino and reader are adults. dom arle, sub r. overly descriptive. a lot of tension. age gap. power play (?). slight degradation. cunnilingus. 

wc: 3.4k

summary: professor arlecchino tutoring student reader who had fallen behind in class… and lesbian sex.

a/n: i couldn’t stop thinking about dilf arle as a professor… i would apologize, but i know this is a millionaire idea. plus, i haven’t written in ages and my fingers are now moving all over the keys like it’s nothing. i’m free!

Lessons have always been annoying—as far as you can recall—so much so that you would usually find yourself pouring your focus into the most insignificant things you could think of.

You would bring novels into class to read as the professor explained a new subject; you’d look out the window and process all the things you had to do on that very specific Tuesday afternoon; you would even take naps in between the prolonged sentences of that one teacher you simply couldn’t stand, for a reason that managed to escape you every time.

That was until the day the man was rumored to have been fired and replaced by another professional with more experience on the field—someone who most likely wouldn’t bore all the students to death.

Great, you thought, another male educator with an inflated ego who would roll his eyes at every inquiry from his pupils before proceeding to answer sarcastically just to make them feel witless. You were oh so excited for that.

The moment you looked up from your walnut desk, you already knew something was off. Everyone went silent as soon as the door opened—a common occurrence, though it felt different this time, especially since the clicking of heels echoed through the large room.

“Good morning, class,” those were the first three words that came from the new professor. The gravelly depth of her voice carried an air of authority that quickly forced everyone to put all their attention on the manner in which she approached her desk.

You were all in almost a chokehold in an instant, that was as clear as day. However, you seemed to be the most interested one out of the bunch by the way your eyes lingered on her form—on the way there was a lack of sway in her hips that you were unused to.

Most of the female scholars were nothing like her, and not just physically, you could already tell. She carried herself in a way that had you almost hypnotized, and you already knew you would be paying attention this time around.

There was a soft thud that bounced off the walls when she set her messenger briefcase on the dark wood of her new desk, eyes glimmering like coals in the darkness never leaving the class sitting before her. “Before we begin, introductions are indispensable,” her gaze flickered towards you for a few seconds before she spoke again.

That was… odd. You definitely looked like a deer in headlights to her now.

“I’m Arlecchino, and I’m afraid I will be your new professor from this moment onward… and no, I shall not disclose the details of your previous professor’s departure, before you ask.”

The auditorium had fallen silent the second she walked in, but due to the velvety, spellbinding tone of her voice, it seemed to grow even quieter. Of course, she had every student’s undivided attention at this point, but you found yourself staring at her for longer than would be considered appropriate.

The way she wore her suit captured your notice almost instantly. This was a common attire worn by every professor at the institute you attended, though hers was utterly captivating. The way the fabric clung onto her body, adding the way she carried herself… it was difficult for you to focus on her words at all, no matter how hard you tried.

And oh, her voice had you in a trance. The way the low vibrations of it echoed through the room sent shivers down your spine in a way you had never felt before. This person couldn’t be real…

You were so distracted by her you didn’t even realize the lesson was already over until you noticed the people around you beginning to stand up—Arlecchino taking a seat at her desk just to go through some papers she had taken out of her briefcase.

Much to your dismay, you were snapped out of your thoughts by this and, of course, her speaking. “Make sure to continue… hitting the books, as they say. In spite of your former professor’s leave-taking, the exam dates remain the same.”

The moment you got up and most of your peers had exited the room, you simply had to look at her for the last time. Truly, where did this woman come from? She was otherworldly, in your very honest opinion, and you were one hundred percent upset about having to make your way outside at that moment.

But oh, did you enjoy the lectures now.

You enjoyed her… them so much, the quality of your exam was abysmal. For her, even having to read the few words you wrote down felt like a punch in the gut, and she almost winced while going over it. However, who could blame you? Your last professor was truly someone who spoke and lulled you to sleep, and she was too distracting for you to even begin to comprehend the words that flowed out of her mouth.

The moment you picked up your test from her desk, you didn’t even look at it. You caught a glimpse of red inked scribbles all over the paper, clearly Arlecchino’s corrections, but you couldn’t bring yourself to even read what she had to say. You already knew you had messed up—what was the point?

You always told yourself you would simply ‘study more next time’; however, this was futile. All the subjects were related, so you practically were doomed to fail. You hadn’t the time to go over so many different things in just a few months.

The lesson began once you sat down, and one more time, your chin rested idly on the palm of your hand as you watched her. This was the sole reason you had underperformed on the exam, or so she thought.

She could almost vividly see the way her speech went in one of your ears and out the other, and in spite of her calm demeanor, it was slowly beginning to vex her. Were you truly this careless?

Of course, she kept an eye on you while she explained the intricacies of the new subject at hand, slowly pacing before the entirety of the class as she did her best to direct your attention to her words—not the way her steps allowed you to notice just how toned her frame was beneath the fabric of her suit.

The second everyone got up to leave the auditorium after long hours, you heard a soft “you”—one that oozed authority despite its calm tone. You already knew whose lips that simple word came out of. Naturally, you looked disoriented as you approached Arlecchino with your bag now hanging from your shoulder and heart beating so loud in your chest it might as well have been about to burst.

“Yes?”

Her gaze eventually turned to you, blackened hands gaining purchase on her own hips as she looked down at you. Finally, you could see her nails up close, one of the things you continued to ogle while sitting a few feet away from her, and you were more than fascinated by them now.

She cleared her throat to catch your focus once again after noticing it deviating from her face, and you would have been startled if only you hadn’t found her so attractive. “I have been informed that you are… one of the students who didn’t exactly pay attention to these classes previously. I wished to let you know you may come to me after lessons so I can clear any doubts you might have.”

Her eyes bored into yours as she spoke, and if you couldn’t hear your own heartbeat in your very ears, you would have assumed it had stopped completely. Educators were allowed to be mesmerizing, sure, but you had never found yourself being so… distracted by one.

“I’m positive you have quite a few of them, since I was told you spent most of your time dozing off or staring out the window at the previous professor’s lectures. Not to mention the way you seemed more than distracted in our last ones, unlike the other students…, and your failed exam.”

You immediately felt called out by her—who wouldn’t? Wasn’t this deeply embarrassing? This woman assumed you were, well, an uninterested fool, judging by her almost condescending tone. She already knew you had always been busy hearing her voice, but never truly listening to her. You felt your cheeks begin to burn from the shame.

“Yes, I…,” you cut yourself off to clear your throat, fist covering your mouth as you thought for a few seconds. Would you confirm her obvious assumptions about you, or reject her offer? Well, the answer was obvious. “I suppose it would do me good.”

“It would do your grades good,” her head tilted ever so slightly to the side as she spoke, piercing eyes solely focused on yours at all times. They were inhumanly beautiful yet hauntingly distant; despite this obvious nature, you couldn’t look away. “I don’t particularly enjoy the idea of my students falling behind.”

That said, a vocal sigh left her parted lips and filled the room in an instant. 

“We will meet at the library, yes? Perhaps I can… enlighten you for once.”

And so she did. She would spend hours on end trying to get certain things through your pretty little head, often having to literally snap you out of your thoughts. You spent long periods watching the way she held her garnet fountain pen instead of listening to her, and this was becoming tiresome.

You could practically hear her jaw clenching as you quietly giggled and lied through your teeth. “Don’t worry, I understand” and “yes, that makes sense” were things you would say time and again, even if Arlecchino hadn’t been speaking for minutes.

In a way, she found you… amusing, albeit irritating. The situation wasn’t one she was used to, even after years of being an important scholar of Teyvat.

You thought you weren’t being so blatant, though she caught on the reason for your absentmindedness pretty quickly. She would notice even the smallest of details about your actions, like the way your gaze would drop to her lips as she spoke, or how you continued to bite the inside of your cheek—it was almost as if you were somewhere in between reality and some different plane of existence.

She didn’t blame you, however. You were very clearly infatuated with her, and oh, did she find it sweet.

The only issue with these private lessons was that neither of you had considered the fact that the library closed once a month for the staff to conduct a book recount. The first Friday this took place, Arlecchino found herself having to simply invite you to her home so you could both resume your routine.

This wasn’t exactly inappropriate, at least not to her. It was fairly common for her colleagues to take the students who needed the most support to their places so they could perform their duties as tutors to them—you were utterly flustered, however.

You had ‘sneakily’ gotten information out of her about her personal life, like how she had adopted three children a few years back, or how she had a beautiful garden with rainbow roses she enjoyed taking care of before making her way to the institute. None of that could ever compare to setting foot into her house, fully missing those children she had mentioned before.

You now sat at the desk in her study, cross-legged with your tightly clasped hands resting on your lap and Arlecchino sitting before you. You desperately wished to look around—to take in the way she had decorated the room and maybe catch onto small details of hers she wouldn’t confess. However, you kept your gaze on her the entire time. Furniture could wait, could it not?

“I apologize for the… chaos,” her voice rumbled as she focused on putting away the scattered papers all over the large desk into a folder.

All you did was wave your hand dismissively in response, and if you weren’t looking so intently, you would have missed the way the corners of her lips lifted with utmost subtlety.

Your books were covering the mahogany wood in minutes, Arlecchino slightly leaned in as the crimson crosses in her eyes focused on the words plastered on the pages. She could definitely feel you studying her form more than you would ever study the sentences sitting right in front of you. She had had enough now.

Her voice pulled you out of your head in an instant, doe-eyed as you hummed. It took you a few seconds to register her question, the usual “did you understand?”

“Oh, uh… yes, absolutely.”

“Do it, then,” she said, leaning back with crossed arms and brows furrowed slightly enough to make you press your lips together instinctively.

It was clear you were puzzled at her words. You hadn’t heard what she had uttered before, and she just knew it.

“I’m… sorry, what?”

To this, all she did was exhale deeply through her nose and begin to organize all the books and papers you had placed on her desk. Her patient demeanor was beginning to falter, and all due to you.

“Get on the desk. Don’t make me repeat myself again.” Her answer was simple, and the way she said it left no room for hesitation whatsoever.

She put all your belongings aside to rest her palms on the edge of the furniture, getting up with a swift movement that made her chair roll back and give her enough room to wait for you to do what she had commanded. It was clear there was a plan in her mind, one about what she would do to you the second you obeyed, and it was nerve-racking.

Oh, well. Who were you to not do as she said? Especially when her gaze lingered on yours expectantly.

You slowly made your way towards her, hands trembling as you used them to prop yourself up and now find yourself sitting atop her desk in pure silence. Your legs were pressed together, naturally, since you had decided to wear a skirt due to the hot weather that had taken place merely a couple of weeks earlier. You didn’t wish to expose yourself before her, or did you?

“You know, dear,” she started as she drew closer, the nickname as well as the manner in which her hand found its way towards your thigh making your heart race in what could only be anticipation, “you aren’t good at listening, or understanding what I regularly explain to you… or keeping your focus on something other than me.”

At that moment, everything around you seemed to vanish. She was now so close you could feel the heat of her body against yours and her breath tickling your face. Somehow, before you could even react at all, she stood between your spread legs as her blackened hand snaked its way under the fabric of your skirt.

Could your poor heart even take all of this?

“I’m sure you aren’t even paying attention to what I’m saying right now, are you?”

“Sorry, you… you’re too close. I can’t…,” you didn’t even finish your sentence, but not due to her. It was all because your mind could only concentrate on the way her nails uniformly dug into the plush skin of your thigh.

“You can’t… what? Think? Of course you can’t,” she muttered in response, knowing she needn’t speak louder considering the closeness between you two.

It didn’t take her long to shatter this small distance, however. She leaned in impossibly closer, giving you all the time in the world to pull away if you wished to do so—if she had been stupid enough to misunderstand the whole situation. Yet, as the seconds passed, you didn’t. Obviously. 

Her other hand managed to gain purchase on your waist to pull you in and meet her lips halfway, wrapping you in a kiss as unhurried and torturous as it was passionate and hungry. And oh, the way you finally let out the breath you weren’t aware of holding through your nose the instant you tasted her only made her fully press herself against you.

You let her in eventually, a whimper betraying you as she fervently explored your mouth and her fingers wrapped around the hem of your underwear to slide it down your legs. She couldn’t find herself caring about anything other than giving you what you had wanted in such a desperate manner since you first saw her, even more so ever since you had managed to grow on her so easily.

She thought you were simply… almost adorable. The way you drooled every time your eyes landed on her was something she found more than entertaining, and she wished to see how many reactions she could pull out of you with uncomplicated deeds.

Arlecchino only pulled away to kneel before you, and you couldn’t help but notice the fine thread of saliva that connected your lips before it snapped once her face waited right in front of your unclothed, drenched cunt. She watched you in silence, crimson eyes now turning darker at the sight of your desperate expression.

You just wanted her to ravish you, didn’t you?

All she had to do was lift your legs up to rest on her shoulders just so her tongue could finally roll between your folds and soak in your fluids fully. This took longer than you were hoping for, but once it did, your head lolled back at the feeling.

This was followed by you dragging a moan out of the depths of your throat, an action that made her hold tightly onto your thighs since she could already tell you would be the type to squirm and make a mess only from getting eaten out.

The pretty noises coming from you the moment she found that sweet bundle of nerves only made her react by digging her nails into the warm skin of your thighs and shoving her face even further into you. Her nose was pressed against your mound, and the sensation of the small hairs pricking on it made the feeling even more enjoyable for her.

She seemed to eat your pussy out like a woman starved—one not afraid to pour the entirety of her silent desire onto you and watch you relish it in its entirety. She could even feel the mixture of your wetness and her saliva beginning to drip down her chin and pour onto her pants to stain them in the future, all the while she lapped against your sensitive clit.

Long minutes full of moans, whimpers, and your hand tangling in her hair passed when you felt that well-known heat forming in your lower stomach. You couldn’t ignore it, and neither could she. Arlecchino could simply tell how close you were to an orgasm just from the way your legs squeezed her head every once in a while.

“Fuck… fuck, Arlecchino, please,” a strained plea that was interrupted by a mewl left your mouth which hung open for her to hear you.

Between lewd slurps and wet noises, her eyes found yours for what probably was less than a second. This managed to get you to clench around nothing as a loud moan filled the air.

“How vulgar,” came the only muffled response from her, though she lacked the sharpness of her usual tone. She was absolutely pussy-drunk at this point, only focused on bringing you to ecstasy with her tongue and claws carving crescent moons into your thighs.

It didn’t take you long to find your release, twitching and holding onto absolutely anything on that desk to keep yourself from fully resting on it. Even at the peak of your orgasm she didn’t let go of you; she was entranced by making sure she licked you clean of all your juices no matter what. It became overwhelming at one point—the way she made sure to swallow your climax solely made you wish this would have happened sooner.

Once she was done enjoying your taste, she slowly got up to wipe the remains of your loud crescendo with the back of her hand, red crosses finding your pupils though she knew you were more than out of your five senses.

“I do hope that, after this, you will pay more attention to our future lessons, dear,” her voice was somewhat deeper, and it forced you to nod through your exhaustion.

You would definitely focus on her words from now on.

[olderthannetfic]

Hi OTNF and everyone,

I am finding that it's harder and harder and harder to get into anything - book, show, movie... most things seem, you know, to just not be doing it for me, be it fanfic or original stuff.

In part, I think, it's a general restlessness and that it's become harder to give anything enough time to get into the stories, the characters, the settings, the narrative voices... I guess you can call it attention deficit on my part, just a need for stories to deliver those sweet, sweet hits quickly, but they're not.

I'm not currently ficcing but I did for years (might again in the future, who knows), and it's made reading, specifically, harder. It's like I've become more aware of what goes on behind the scene, I guess? I feel like I can see the writer giving up on a sentence, skipping a scene because fuck this, trying hard to not repeat a word although it's the only one that fits, etc.

Or maybe it's just the *everything* around us in the world that is weighing on me too much? I could say it's adult life, but then again I have more free time than most (and boy do I need hours of doing nothing to survive the other hours), and no family/partner (all that would put even more pressure on me): what is wrong, to make everything so UGHHH?

I feel like I'm stuck in a rut with a brain moaning feed me, feeeed me, and whatever I try to give it, it spits everything out. (Yes, I've tried hobbies, and nothing sticks there either. I've never really found rewards or satisfaction there, so...)

Decades ago as a kid, I was a voracious reader, although studying literature took the pleasure of it away from me. It took time and discovering fanfic that brought me back to reading, but at the time the internet was starting to be a thing, too, and it can't have helped the attention thing. AFAIK I'm not ADHD but then again, I couldn't get a proper diagnosis (the therapists I saw were either dismissive or just about The Talking, which was pointless for me).

I just wonder how it all disappeared, you know? Sometimes I find something that catches my attention for a while - a book (but I read quite quickly when motivated), a fandom... but it's been a while now, and it's just so frustrating! When is it going to come back? Will it ever? *gulp*

I know that books were escapism when I was a child, and then fandom was escapism, but at the moment I find myself grabbing at air and my empty hands are mocking me. Give me my escapism baaaaack!

So, uh. Anyone here with me?

--

Yes.

I felt like that during part of lockdown. Anhedonia is common in those kinds of circumstances.

Getting your mojo back is certainly possible, but you may need to go see a professional about depression and have some chemical assistance (yes, even if you don't feel sad per se), or you may need to change your lifestyle to one that doesn't have the thing causing you to need eleventy billion hours of downtime.

Aside from serious interventions like that, you can consider a social media detox. Remove every source of doomscrolling and time wasting of that type. When the attention span is zero and nothing brings joy, the tiny and useless hits from finishing a game of solitaire or seeing one more instagram post become very attractive. This is a trap. It will suck what little energy and joy you have and make your muscles flabby for the work of getting into an in-depth book/hobby/experience.

I know the feeling of being able to see how the sausage is made, but... well... first, being in a better mental state will make that matter less, and second, reading prose that is more competent will make that less of an issue. A lot of mainstream tradpub genre fiction is not, in my opinion, very well written these days. Obviously, people are still enjoying it, and that's fine, but if you're noticing writers fumbling around, it might be time to check out some literary fiction or some other category known more for prose quality than anything else.

It's also important to have some structure and some things to look forward to. Even if you feel tired, overwhelmed, and busy, sometimes, the answer is to do more... But it must be things that are distinct and significant and that get you off of the couch, like going to one museum every weekend.

I saw some advice once about this kind of thing that phrased it as "One big adventure; one small adventure."

Every week, you should have those two things to look forward to that matter. Check out a new coffee shop. That could be the small one. Go to an event: a gallery opening, a concert, whatever.

Physical exercise and doing some things that aren't as verbal and conscious thought-involving is important too. Painting is a better hobby for zoning out than writing is. Taking long walks in nature is good for most people.

--

The kind of intense, obsessive love I had for reading as a child and that I sometimes have for fandom requires a lot of attention and some time. It's escapist, but that masks how much work it actually was. It didn't feel like work only because we were in training.

If you've filled your brain and your day up with a thousand petty annoyances or minor and useless attempts to feel something, you won't have the capacity for those deeper things.

Because you are already at a point that's equivalent to a bad sprained ankle, trying to get back to running right now won't work. You have to stay off of the ankle for a bit, then build your strength and stamina back up.

[robynlilyblack]

Perfect

Sirius Black x fem! insecure! reader

Summary: Sirius comforts his girlfriend when she’s feeling insecure

Warnings/tags: swearing, mentions of weight gain, body dysphoria, insecurities, eating, nudity and sex, established relationship, best friends to lovers, Sirius black is the best boyfriend, muggleborn! reader

A/n: 3.8k words, thank you so much for the request, it didn’t trigger me don't worry lovely, i poured a lot of myself into this one, this won’t be everyone's experience but it has been mine post 'recovery', enjoy xxxx

Navigation | Sirius Black Masterlist 

The soft jostling of the front door pulls you from your thoughts, the reality of the last couple of hours falling upon you as you look around yourself. There was no point in moving now, nor did you honestly think you would be able to bring yourself to. Sitting in nothing but your underwear at the edge of the bed, surrounded by piles of clothing that lay scattered like fallen soldiers after your battle for the ‘perfect’ outfit. A ridiculous notion wasn’t it? ‘The perfect outfit’? The consequence and impact of such a notion remains less ridiculous though, as you hold the latest victim to your stomach, hiding yourself away for when that door finally opens

After a short eternity, the latch clicks, and the hallway illuminates the land outside your bedroom for a brief moment before it recedes “Hi darling! Just me!” Sirius’ calls out from the darkness, slight jingle following it as he locks the door behind him

He sounds so happy, you think at his chipper tone, your lips quirking up at the sound despite it all before they fall once more, he’s going to be so disappointed 

There's anticipation in the silence that follows his footsteps, he must wonder where you are, if you’re even in or have popped to the shops, maybe he’s searching the fridge for a note. The electric hum of your record player gives it away in the end, even you jump a little as you had forgotten about it, watching it turn before the needle softly falls, the hum becoming a symphony once more

His footsteps approach the bedroom, a curious look at his head pops into frame before the rest of him, most likely expecting you to be dancing, or maybe finishing your hair, anything he can sneakily admire like he normally does. Instead you watch his expression soften into concern, eyes darting around the room. Your bedroom was normally a little messy, but today it was like someone had ransacked your wardrobe… that someone being you. 

When his eyes find you again you wonder what you look like. He must catch the tear stains on your cheeks and puffy eyes, but is your hair as frizzy and frazzled as you feel after all the quick changes? Does he see you the way you see yourself should you dare to glance in a nearby mirror?

“Hi” you impress yourself with how steady your voice is

“Hi” he smile softly at you, voice gentle as he makes his way over to the bed, kneeling down in front of you, hand coming up to brush against your cheek before falling and resting on your knee, tracing soothing circles 

You manage a weak smile back, trying to push away the embarrassment as he has to shift a little to the side due to the buttons of one of your shirts “I’m sorry about the mess” you apologise, keeping one hand on your jumper while the other finds his, fingers intertwining 

He lets out a breathy laugh “Mess? Darlin we both know this is cleaner that my flat has very been” he teases lightly, but then his eyes turn glassy “Oh darling” he coos, wiping away a stray tear you had missed

You never wanted him to see you like this. You’d known each other for years, but he never knew the depth of your struggle, nor how much worse it had gotten now you and he had finally taken your relationship to the next level. No, this was something you had kept to yourself, a battle until now you thought you had under control, thought you were long past

“I’m not doing so great today Siri” you confess, voice small as you lean into his touch

You hold your breath a little as his eyes fall upon the clutched fabric around your stomach. Little did you know he’d noticed this behaviour before when you thought he was asleep. He recalls last week when he woke to find you in front of his mirror, shirt hiked up as you poked and prodded, scrutinising the reflection. He didn’t say anything then, just made sure to show you later how much he adored every inch of you

But now seeing you like this, so defeated, he wishes he had done more

“Yeah?” his tone inflects and you give him a little nod “There’s nothing I can say that's going to make this better is there? Not really?” he wonders, not mad, nor judging you, he’s just him and he understood even if it did hurt 

When he and Remus had dated back at Hogwarts, Sirius had gone about trying to help him in all the wrong ways. Being the hot head he was, sprinkled with youthful arrogance, he used to get so upset at how his boyfriend had spoken of himself. Over the years, and after the relationship has blossomed back into friendship, he and Remus had more productive chats about it all, apologies were said, and Sirius learned more about the thought process that went through his friends head in those moments.

You were different from Remus of course, Sirius didn’t know what drove your insecurities but he knew he would be patient with them, help you in anyway he could, and that started by listening to you

“No” you answer honestly “I wish there was though. A magic word or sentence that could make it all disappear” you confess “But everytime I look in the mirror all I can see is what’s wrong”

“And what is wrong?” he encourages you to continue as he lifts himself up, being careful of your clothes as he joins you on the bed

Your legs fall from their crossed position, head falling onto his shoulder as your knee shifts to touch his “Everything” you admit, tightening your grip on the jumper, while Sirius' arm slips around your back, fingers gliding across your bare skin “No matter what I try on, it never feels…right. Even outfits I was excited about. I take one too many glances in the mirror and poof…” you shrug, throwing your hands up “...suddenly all I can see is my stomach” you look up at him through your eyelashes, nervous of what he’ll think, but instead he wears that fond smile he always did when he looks at you

“Keep going” he nods, leaning down to kiss your forehead 

Your heart swells at the gesture, a tiny downturned smile grazing your features as tears prick your eyes “Why are you being so sweet with me?” you ask, even though you already know the answer, that little girl inside still needs to hear it aloud

His movements never stop on your back and his other hand finds the side of your face, gently caressing your hairline, endlessly tucking that little piece of hair behind your ear “Because I care about you. You’re my best friend” he answers simply “There’s no one else that comes close anymore”

“Not even Prongs?” you ask, eyes lighting up with a tiny smile that always sends his heart into a tizzy

“Not even Prongs” he confirms with a chuckle, tapping your nose, adoring the little scrunch it makes “So” he shifts the subject back “What happened today?”

“Remember last week when we couldn’t sleep, so we watched movies all night?” you prop yourself up

Sirius’ smile widens at the memory “Course, we watched the one that was like us but way less cool and then…ugh i can’t remember but I do remember what we did when the movies got boring” he flirts, wiggling his eyebrows, making you giggle and playful poke his side causing him to yip “You little…”

“Siri!” your giggles turn into laughter as he starts tickling you, hopping onto his knees as you fall back onto the plush of the duvet, squirming under his sweet torture “I yield! I yield!” you squeal, holding your hands up 

He relents “Sorry darlin', I couldn’t resist” he tells you, kicking off his shoes before falling onto the bed beside you, propping himself up on his elbow while his other hand finds your hip, eyes lost in admiration for a moment before they find yours “What were we talking about again…” he looks off to the side, avoiding your hips as not to lose his train of thought once more “...ugh…tickles…getting bored…movies!” he celebrates "The movie" he gets serious again, lips pressing together in a way that tells you he wishes he could say sorry, even though you both know he doesn't need to

You place a sweet kiss to his lips, letting him know it’s okay before shifting onto your side, mirroring him “I couldn’t stop thinking about how cool the outfit the girl wore in the first movie was, so I wanted to try and recreate it for drinks tonight” you explain, eyes widening as you realise the time “Drinks…oh, we’re going to be so late” you sigh, head collapsing into the mattress beside him 

Sirius rubs your back “Darling when are we not late” he chuckles, making you peak out at him 

“I’m still sorry” you needlessly apologise, feeling awful 

“We don’t have to go, you know?” he assures you, his hand sliding up to your head, giving your scalp gentle scratches 

You tilt your head back, humming into his touch “I do want to go” your eyes flick back to his “I just…don’t stop!” you pout at him in mock anger, he really should have known better

He chuckles “Sorry darling” he apologises, placing a quick peck to your forehead before resuming his movements

“Good boy” you can’t help the grin, watching as he shakes his head slightly, now it’s you who should know better about what those words do to him...but then your smile drops “I just wish I could magic myself there without having to choose, like I need to look a certain way” 

“What kind of way?” 

“Honestly?” you shrug, shaking your head “I don’t know anymore. All I know is whatever I try on it never looks or feels right. Like back at Hogwarts, I didn’t tuck in my jumpers because it looked cute. I tucked them in because I thought I looked frumpy with them out” you confess, pit swelling in your stomach

You hated yourself for your thought process, for the years of walking into rooms,and having your night made or ruined based on how your body measured up against others

“That sounds really hard” he says softly while his fingers graze your hairline

Your body relaxes at the validation 

“Why haven’t you ever talked to me about this?” he asks, no pressure behind his words only care

“I didn’t really tell anyone, mostly because I never realised everything I felt and did wasn’t normal until a couple years after we left. I worked hard on it and I thought my days of this…” you gesture to the mess “...was over” you let out a sad sigh

“What happened?” 

Sirius’ heart drops a little bit, this was the part he most worried about, had he brought this back? Had he said something that accidentally had a double meaning for you? 

“A couple weeks ago I found the pair of jeans I wore on our first real date.” your eyes drop to the duvet, hands playing with the slight frill in the material as you recall the memory “They don’t fit anymore Siri” you scrunch your nose attempting to suppress the tears “Nothing fits I’ve…I’m…I don’t like it” you finally get out 

“Oh honey, come ‘ere’” he hithers, holding out his arms

It doesn’t take long for you to fall into his embrace, head nuzzling into his chest as his arms come protectively around you

“I know it’s silly-” you sniffle into him, but he cuts you off sweetly with a soft tut

“It’s not darling and you’re not either” he cups the back of your head, bringing you gaze to his to hone in his latter statement “I don’t think it’s silly at all, I think this is really hard and I wish you didn’t have to go through it all alone” he smiles sadly, pain evident in his eyes 

“Did you notice?” you feel like you already know the answer

He caresses your cheek, eyes a little glassy “Little bit bub” he confesses “I noticed something' was off, but I didn’t want to push it until you were ready”

“Really?” he nods

“Darlin…” his demeanour turns from playful to sincere “...no matter what size or shape you come in, I’m always going to love you. I didn't fall for you because you looked a certain way. I fell for you because you made me feel like I was worth a damn, not just for a night but everyday. You believed in me every time I couldn’t, you put up with me forgetting everything every two seconds, not to mention my grumpy side when I have to wake up early…” you both chuckle together “...and above all you make me feel like the most special person in the entire world every day”

“Because you are special” you say simply to which he taps your nose with his own

“And so are you. So until you believe the version of yourself I see, I will, and I'll help anyway I can…starting…” he grins, uncoupling himself from you and getting off the bed ”...right now!” he gestures for you to join him “Come on love lets see ya” you do as he says, a nervous yet happy smile across your face as you stand near bare before him, no jumper protecting you now “Well whatever you wear has to match the underwear…good godric woman”

His hands find his hips, shaking his head as his eyes track across your frame, drinking you in like man that's been lost in the desert

“Flirt” you smile up at him

“Only for you” he throws you a wink, relishing in your slight fluster before turning to the rest of the room “Okay…let's try something simple” he suggests, scanning the pile of discarded clothes "How about the outfit you wore that day we went to the...aww what's it called, it's one the funny muggle picture places but with the cars"

"The drive-in cinema?" you decipher with a laugh, it was easy to forget Sirius wasn't brought up the same way you were

"That's it!" he cheeses at you "Yeah the sin-e-ma...you wore an outfit kinda similar to her in the movie but way more you"

As Sirius starts raking through one of the piles, you take a moment, glancing in the mirror closest to you, you could only really see your head and tips of your shoulders in this one thankfully, but in your gaze you realise you were right to be worried about the fizz, the many different shirts and jumpers had wreaked their havoc. You move closer, unaware of Sirius finding the clothes you wore that day, nor his adorable struggle to turn one of the legs back from being inside out. 

He soon joins you at the mirror, placing the clothing on the dresser beside you “You know love…I might be a little bias but I think it looks great, it’s messy in a good way…” he smirks earning an eye roll from yourself as you know exactly what kind of messy he's referring to “...though if you're worried about it being too sexy lets..." he grabs a clip and hair tie from your pile, moving behind you and gently gathers the top half of your hair, letting some parts fall to frame face before he secures it with the tie and hides it with the clip "...pin half of it up, that way I can see your pretty face much easier” he kisses your cheek before spinning you around you around, admiring his work as he fixes the front pieces “Perfection” he says to himself with pride

“Siri?” 

“Yeah? Oh…is it too tight?” his movements stop, resting gently at the base of your jaw

“No, it’s perfect” you smile, glowing under his care “It’s just you probably should have done that after I put my clothes on” 

Sirius laughs as he realises, then shrugs “Ahh well if it falls out I’ll do it again, here I’ll help ya” he moves around you, holding the collar of the top and helping guide it down, avoiding the clip to protect his masterful work

“Hey that worked” you extend the first word, hand going up to check your hair was still in place

“Hey now, my plans always work! Maybe not always as intended but they al…wait no there was that time with Filch's cat…but that was an accident so it doesn’t count” he argues to himself

“Tell that to the cat! Poor girl was bald for months!” you try to counter but end up having to cover your mouth a little as you can't help the giggles 

“Her fur grew back” he hands you some bottoms “Besides, you were the one that mixed the potion darling so if we are casting blame here…” he trails off as does his eyes but you don’t notice that part just yet

“Siri, you…he’s gone isn't he” you say to yourself, shifting your weight from side to side as he admires you shamelessly “Siri” you gently hit him with the fabric in you hands

“Sorry darlin” he scratches the back of his head “Thighs” he shrugs like it was the most forgivable answer in the world

“You’re silly” you giggle before turning around, deciding to hiking up your jumper a little and give him a little show as you slide into your bottoms 

“I love you” he says simply, leaning against the wardrobe beside him as he admires your extra wiggles that are only for his benefit and his heart swells a little with pride as he’s helped you to momentarily forget your worries

When you turn around you find him wearing your favourite smile. The one reserved only for you, both now as two silly adults, and back when you were silly teenagers. You both should have realised far sooner your affections and feelings were more than what they were, but in the end both of you were always happy with the way your story planned out. You both needed that time to become the people you were now, to grow, to become this. 

“I love you more” you challenge sweetly

“Not possible…” he moves closer, finding your hips as he slides his fingers up and under your jumper “...and if you say one more word we really will be late as we won’t be going at all” his fingers find the loops of your trousers, tucking you flush against him

You squeal a little “Fine…you win for now cause we don’t have time…well” you nod your head back and forth considering it before turning back to Sirius “…no no we don’t have time” you shake your thoughts away, causing the man before you to chuckle

Sirius helps you finish off your outfit, picking out some boots that just so happened to be one's your boyfriend was partial to, ones with some lift that he says makes you easier to kiss and your arse look even better, but really he loves them because when you take them off later tonight he gets to pat your head and tease you about being a little shorty. You grab a belt that matches your shoes, along with some other bits of jewellery, particularly the necklace Sirius had gifted you for your birthday after seeing your reaction to it in a vintage store a few months prior. The same gift that led to your first kiss all those months ago, there wasn’t a day you hadn’t worn it since.

Just as you’re admiring the locket Sirius wraps the exact jacket you were thinking of around your shoulders, but before you can say anything he just winks “Can’t reveal all my secrets darling, need to keep up that sexy mystery you fell in love with”

You just give him a small look though the mounted mirror but all he returns with is a pity pout and you concede “You are very sexy and mysterious love” 

He smirks then, all proud of himself that his puppy eyes still work, but as you move to the floor length mirror near the door of your room to check the rest of yourself he stop you

“Nope” he steps in front, obscuring your view of the mirror

“Why?” you tilt your head, confused

“Do you trust me?” he asks

“Always” 

He takes a moment to smile at the ease of your answer before guiding you out of the bedroom “Then come on we’re gonna try something, a little experiment if you will”

You allow him to lead you towards the front door, watching him quietly as he gathers your things, placing them into the bag you had chosen before slipping it onto your frame and fixing the collar of your jacket 

“How do you feel right now in this moment?” he wonders, reaching out to intertwine your hands

“I feel…good” you answer honestly, you felt nice, you had only seen your hair and makeup, things that you could control and for the first time in a while you felt at peace leaving your apartment “I also feel pretty when you look at me like that” you add shyly under his gaze as you watch his eyes slowly drink in your appearance

“Good” he nods “Because you are, ya know, you are so beautiful” he says the words slowly, making sure you know he means them completely before he leans down, placing a soft lingering kiss to your lips “Now, lets go and watch our friends fail miserable at karaoke” he breaks away, smiling at your attempt to chase his lips before he turns away

“Sirius” you come to a slow stop

“Yeah?” he turns back, the softest most natural smile adoring his face

“Thank you, for everything” 

His eyelashes kiss his cheeks. He doesn’t reply, instead he thanks you with a kiss to your cheek…and then one to the other…then your nose...and lips...and well safe to say you were a little late in the end after all

Thank you for reading ♡

[v4mpyinred]

ok this might be hella long, but I need to scream about some details about Makoto Yuki in Persona 3 Reload, because they're so missable so I feel like nobody else has noticed or cared about them other than me!!!!

Please someone hear me out 😭 (spoilers ahead)

One underrated thing about Reload, which is my favorite thing ever, is that we get to hear Makoto's thoughts when interacting with the world around him. Compare it to FES where the game's inner dialouge is in 2nd person, Makoto's inner dialouge in Reload is in first person.

I didn't give too much attention to a Makoto's thoughts in my 1st playthrough and I think it's what made me not as attached to Makoto as I would've liked in that playthrough. But god, in my 2nd playthrough, especially after watching the movies, all of that changed...

I noticed that Makoto's thoughts genuinely change as the game progresses. You see him start off as indifferent to everything, to cherishing the memories he's made with his friends.

For instance, take a look at his thoughts on the kitchen. I don't have a screenshot of this, but at first, he doesn't really care and just sees it as another tool. But as the game progresses...

This dialouge makes me swoon every time 😭💜

One of the biggest hidden details is Makoto's inner thoughts when you interact with the book on the dorm table. He has individual thoughts on the handwriting of each member of SEES as they join, which were delightful to read in my 2nd playthrough.

But what shocked me the most was after Shinji dies, if you interact with the book, then here are Makoto's inner thoughts:

That "..." doesn't show up if you interact with the book again. This was very intentional. And god, did that hit me extremely hard. In fact, if you interact with anything involving Shinji after he passes, you can really see how much Makoto respected him :((

Once January rolls around, Makoto's thoughts change to this sweet message 😭💜

Ngl I almost teared up when I saw this for the first time. Especially since it was my 2nd playthrough, and I was actually attached to Makoto this time + I knew what was up ahead :')

shit there's even dialouge if you go to the bathroom on the Promised day 😍

Don't even get me started on Makoto's inner dialouge on March 4th. Pretty much everything interactable is changed to fit the mood of how tired Makoto is, but also how much he's appreciated the year and the memories he's made.

Like when you interact with the kitchen, his inner dialouge about the kitchen changes once last time to this (credits to alanamisako):

This shit made me burst into tears so badly 😭😭😭 "I'll never forget those precious memories" FOUL atlus, FOUL!!! His thoughts on Shinji's room change on March 4th as well 🥲

Just seeing how much Makoto had grown throughout the game, and knowing what was to come, made this, and all the other March 4th dialouge, even harder to get through in my 2nd playthrough. It also resonated with me, because I too will never forget the precious memories I've made with this game...

Things like this make me appreciate Reload so much. Interacting with every little thing is my favorite pass time in video games that allow me to do it. I've probably wasted so much time in games doing this. But most game's interactables don't have this depth, and they certainly don't change at all, even as the game and protagonist develop. I also feel like nobody else takes the time to really interact with everything or see if there's anything else to see before they progress (trust me, if a game says go left, I'm always going to go right first), and it makes me sad that so much of this, and other details, go unnoticed. I've certainly heard "I've never noticed that" a lot when sharing these sorts of things with people 😭

Things like this really help flesh out the protagonist people call "bland". I really love silent protagonist and developing their personality based on their thoughts on the world around them. I also love worldbuilding and learning about other characters through it.

And I'm trying so hard to not let Makoto take Joker's place as my favorite protagonist (cuz the rest of SEES have already done that to the PTs LOL) but it's been getting harder these days. Makoto is just so perfect! I love his growth & seeing all of his inner thoughts and combining it with movie Makoto's AMAZING characterization (plz watch the p3 movies ya'll) just made me super attached to him!! I could scream about Makoto all day. He cares so much for his friends, and it's thanks to them that he's able to appreciate the life he didn't know he could have 🥲

So I highly encourage you to interact with everything when playing Reload! From NPCs, to random things that aren't the main objective (trying to leave when you're supposed to be fighting a full moon shadow leads to some funny dialouge for instance), etc etc.. especially as the game progresses. I mean, we all laughed at the 3 coffins in the Love Hotel, and there's so many other details and foreshadowing like that I can't even get into! It really immerses you and attaches you to the protag, but also makes the end of the game hit hard...That "my eyes feel heavy" got me horribly in my 2nd playthrough after keeping up with Makoto's thoughts the entire game HOO BOY!🥲

I also recommend you do this with other games as well. Video games have always been an experience over just a game to me. And I want to experience as much of the game as I can, even silly little things like this :)

[waitingandwishing]

(Cross posted on Wattpad)

Prev - Next Chapter

Viktor gasped. He never knew how sweet something could taste after he felt the rush of air in his lungs.

He outstretched his hand, pulling through the thin veil as he pushed through and landed on the ground, bits of the arcane still sticking to his ragged body. Mostly machinery and… Other things.

“Jayce?” He called out. His partner snapped open, breathing heavily at the voice he never thought he’d hear as he turned around to see his friend. He looked at Viktor up and down.

“Viktor? My god…”

“What… Am I?” He asked, looking at his sudden change.

“You’re… You’re alive.” Jayce realized before smiling, “You’re alive!” He hugged Viktor tightly, missing his friend's warm embrace. “Oh! Oh, uh… You must be cold!” Jayce realized leaving Viktor as he went to get something to cover him up.

“Cold.” Viktor repeated, his eyes squinting in response. “No, I don’t think so.” He said, though Jayce wrapped a blanket around Viktor anyways. “I sense a charge. A potential. A recursive impulse. Unpleasant, but… ‘cold’ isn’t its name.”

Viktor’s gaze fell upon the arcane cocoon where Y/N was trapped. The glow from its surface illuminated his face, casting flickering shadows across his sunken cheeks and weary eyes.

 He stepped closer, the sound of his cane tapping against the floor echoing in the quiet room. His chest tightened at the sight of her suspended within the magic’s embrace, her expression serene yet fragile, as if frozen in a dream she couldn’t escape.

“Oh, what has happened to you, Y/N?” He whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of sorrow and tenderness. 

Jayce, standing nearby, cleared his throat softly. “We found her next to your body, Viktor. She… she appeared to have stabbed herself with her own knife.” His voice was heavy with guilt, each word weighted with the memory of that night. “We’ve been studying the arcane that surrounds you both. Y/N’s a mage, she possesses magic. We think she cast a spell in her final moments, one that bonded the two of you together.”

A faint, bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “After all these years of being apart,” He murmured, “She casts a spell to ensure we can never be separated again...”

He hesitated, his hand hovering just inches from the arcane barrier as if he could already feel her presence through it. “I must say…” He began, his voice barely above a whisper. “After all these years of fondness, affection, love… I am upset that I never had the courage to tell her.” His hand clenched into a fist. “That she never knew the depth of it.”

Jayce shifted uneasily. “Viktor…”

But Viktor didn’t look at him. His gaze was locked onto Y/N’s peaceful face, his eyes filled with a yearning that was almost unbearable to witness. Slowly, he outstretched his hand, trembling as it moved closer to the arcane’s surface.

“Don’t,” Jayce said sharply. Viktor turned to him, his expression a mix of irritation and confusion. “It… It might hurt you again,” Jayce continued, his tone pleading. “You might not wake up this time.”

Viktor’s frown deepened, but there was no hesitation in his voice. “Y/N is still in there,” He said firmly. “I can feel it, I can feel her” His gaze softened as he turned back to her, his resolve unwavering. “How can I live knowing she’s lost within this? Alone?”

Jayce opened his mouth to protest but stopped. There was no arguing with Viktor, not when it came to her.

Viktor’s fingers brushed the arcane’s surface, and a surge of warmth flowed through him, as if her very essence was reaching out to meet him. A faint, genuine smile graced his lips as he leaned closer, pressing his palm gently against her head.

“Glorious evolution,” He murmured, his voice a quiet prayer. “I must say, mojí drahoušek, your mind is as sharp as ever, and you’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.” He closed his eyes, his voice filled with an aching tenderness. “Wake up… For me, for yourself. There is so much left for you to do and without you, I have nothing ahead of me.”

For a moment, the arcane pulsed, light radiating outward in rhythmic waves. Viktor’s words hung in the air, a quiet plea suspended between them. As the light intensified, Y/N’s fingers twitched ever so slightly, as if she was responding to his call.

“Violet…” Y/N’s voice broke the silence, soft and tremulous, her lips barely moving. Then, with a sudden gasp, her eyes widened. "Jinx!” she rasped, the name escaping her like a fragile bird taking flight. Her throat was raw, her voice hoarse as she tore herself free from the arcane, her body trembling with the effort. 

“V-Viktor!” she managed to choke out before collapsing to the floor. A fit of violent coughing overtook her, shaking her frame as she struggled to catch her breath. Through blurred vision, she looked up, and her heart stopped at the sight before her.

There he was, the man she had longed to see for what felt like an eternity. Yet… he was different now. Not just in his body, purple with flickers of gold, or his hair, streaked with silver as though time had left its mark. 

It was his eyes that struck her the most. They were like hers, a swirling kaleidoscope of colors, alive with the brilliance of the arcane. The sight consumed her thoughts, making her forget the ache in her chest, the confusion in her mind.

A robe flowed around Y/N like water, the soft, natural folds of the fabric wrapping her in an ethereal elegance. The garment fell gracefully to her ankles, draping across her arms and shoulders. A decorative clasp secured the drape, its intricate design marked with an unusual symbol that seemed to pulse faintly with energy. 

Her hair was shimmering white, the strands catching the light like spun silver. A single black streak ran through her hair, stark against the color.

“You’re alive,” she whispered, her voice trembling with disbelief and relief. She reached out and wrapped her arms around Viktor, pulling him into a tight embrace as though afraid he might vanish if she let go. “I… I’m alive.”

“It’s good to see you again… My love,” Viktor whispered, his voice soft yet heavy with emotion. The words sent a warmth flooding through her, thawing the icy fear that had gripped her heart for so long. 

Y/N pulled back just enough to look at him, her hands rising to cradle his face. Her touch was tender, her fingers brushing over the lines and contours of his features as though memorizing them anew.

She turned her gaze to Jayce, standing nearby. “You saved us,” she said, realization dawning in her wide eyes.

“No… it… The Hexcore saved you.,” Jayce replied, shaking his head. “Somehow, it-it adapted to both your injuries, changing and evolving. It was as if it was… Connected to you two.”

Y/N and Viktor exchanged a glance, confusion mirrored in their eyes. She studied her hands, the faint glow of purple emanating from the runes. Her fingers bore the remnants of her three rings that had once symbolized her strength and her weapon, now absorbed into her skin.

“I did my best using notes from your leg. Recorded everything.” Jayce continued, his words tumbling over each other. “There are still so many questions, but—”

“I was supposed to die. Y/N was supposed to die,” Viktor interrupted, his hand clenched into a fist, the veins glowing faintly with the same unsettling purple. “You promised to destroy the Hexcore.”

“No. Don’t you see?” Jayce argued, his voice rising. “Heimerdinger was wrong. We were wrong. It’s not as bad as we—”

“It carved itself into Y/N’s brain,” Viktor said bitterly. “It killed Sky, Jayce. She had such dreams… As did we, once.” His voice faltered, his gaze dropping to the floor. 

Stumbling slightly, he moved to the desk, his steps unsteady yet purposeful. He reached for his notebook, the symbol of his work, and clutched it tightly.

Jayce stepped forward, desperation etched into his face. “I’m going to resign from the council. I understand now,” He said quickly, as though the words might fix everything. “My place was always here in the lab with you. We’ll make this right. Together.”

Viktor turned, his eyes finding Y/N’s. Her gaze was fixed on her glowing hands, her expression unreadable. She felt Viktor’s eyes on her and looked up, her uncertainty meeting his resolve. His features softened, his focus shifting from the weight of his regrets to the person before him.

“I must say goodbye to this place now. To you,” Viktor said quietly, addressing Jayce. He clutched his book tighter, his voice steady despite the finality of his words.

“Goodbye? Viktor, you’re my partner,” Jayce pleaded, stepping closer.

“Our paths diverged long ago,” Viktor replied, his tone calm but firm. “It was affection that held us together.”

He turned to Y/N, his gaze softening further. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. Was this really happening? For once, she wasn’t an afterthought, a secondary choice. She was someone’s choice. His choice. 

But even as her heart swelled with selfish hope, guilt tugged at her. How could she be happy when Jayce was losing the only friend he had left? How could she be so horrible?

“You think it’s so easy?” Jayce demanded, his voice breaking. “To turn your back while your whole city looks to you for salvation? To cling to principles while your best friend bleeds out in your arms? I never asked for this!”

Viktor paused, his face clouded with thought. He reached for Y/N’s hand, his fingers lacing through hers. Without another word, he turned and began walking away, guiding her with him.

“Where are you going?” Jayce called after them, his voice tinged with disbelief and sorrow.

“Goodbye, Jayce,” Viktor said, his voice low. “I have been away from my love for far too long, avoiding it as it chased after me… Perhaps it is time to let it catch up with me.”

taglist: @night-fall-moon @cyberwears @g0ul666 (If you'd like to be added tell me in the comments!!!

[oceanwithouthermoon]

ive seen you say terusai is implied a lot but i dont remember ever seeing you explain why you think that

yeah now that you say it, i dont think ive ever gone into depth about it 😭 its really hard to put my thoughts into words because its sooo much, i started writing a long analysis recently on their relationship, why i believe they have feelings for each other, and why they would work but itll probably sit unfinished in my drafts for a while

for now, i'll give you a few of my most noteworthy thoughts...

the mixer scene has teruhashi unknowingly proving to saiki that her feelings are true, and he accepts that and stops trying to get her to stop pursuing him. i dont believe he ever actually makes any REAL effort to try to stop her from liking him ever again after this. he genuinely hadnt acknowledged her feelings as true or at least not as deep yet, which is why he thinks hes succeeding at getting her to move on until she proves that not only is she still thinking of him, but shes NOT thinking of a fake version of him... shes thinking of HIM... she genuinely enjoys his company even when hes doing nothing but sitting there (which is factually and obviously what he wouldve been doing in this situation, people deny that for some odd reason but like. thats what he does. with ANYONE. even his own family and everyone else who knows of his powers.) and wants him around... i think some part of him stopped because he felt guilty for not believing her feelings were true and trying to control her heart despite her genuine intentions, and another part of him was realizing that he doesnt WANT her to stop having feelings for him... otherwise, why would he drag the other guys away WHILE acknowledging that she wouldnt have gone with them anyway??? after inserting himself into a rock paper scissors game for who gets to be the one to be with her???? HELLO?

and the offu, although i dont believe it was a direct declaration of him being in love with her or whatever, has obvious canon romantic connotations... teruhashis determination is something saiki has admired about her since the very beginning, but it isnt until THIS moment that he thinks in depth about what that entails... she makes him realize all at once that she truly IS the type of person he admires most... and his "offu" is exactly what teruhashi needs, she would have a straight up epiphany if she knew about it, because he DIDNT gasp at how beautiful she is, or anything she forced herself to do, or when she forced herself to CHANGE, he ONLY gasped when she let herself embrace a part of herself that was REAL and TRUE, her unwavering dedication and pride.

THIS chapter is where they both have huge realizations about themselves and each other, and they both prove that theyre more than willing to meet in the middle for the other...

saiki lives his life forcing himself to blend into the background, not because he genuinely wants to but because hes afraid to be SEEN.

teruhashi lives her life forcing herself to be perfect and the center of attention, not because she genuinely enjoys it but because she believes she wont get the validation she feels she needs if she doesnt give everyone exactly what they want from her.

and yet, here saiki is, allowing himself to jump into the spotlight and be seen catching teruhashi out of nowhere and carrying her to the nurse. and here teruhashi is, allowing herself to be seen being imperfect, forgetting something, and not caring about her conversation with these men. FOR EACH OTHER. they both let themselves break down a wall because they care more about the other than about the fake selves they dedicate their entire lives to, THEIR GENUINE CARE FOR EACH OTHER GIVES THEM THE COURAGE TO DO THAT.

and this is probably the number one reason why i think their feelings for each other are implied... this alternate timeline is quite clearly one where saiki is more open with his friends, and he and teruhashi ARE DATING in this universe. theres absolutely no other explanation for the author writing that. he spelled out "IF SAIKI WERE MORE OPEN WITH HIS FRIENDS, HE WOULD BE DATING TERUHASHI"

the saiki of that timeline isnt exactly the same as the saiki we know of course, and their relationship will not develop in the same way, but theres clearly intention behind this and it wouldnt be written and called attention to if there was no significance, youd have to jump through hoops to deny that 😭

overall, i think they both have a lot of work to do on themselves before they can be in a relationship, but not only do i believe they WILL eventually get there but also that they both need each other on their personal journey to get to that point, or at least that they are and will continue to be important in the others journey there, and their romantic feelings for each other are so clear... these two are so important to one another...

[konstantynowitz]

I could’ve just messaged you but I want to get this question out there! So I was wondering: would Renissa ever leave St. Mungo’s or would she remain there for the rest of her life?

Fyi: this all happens shortly after the Battle of Hogwarts, so Voldemort is gone and there’s no one left to threaten Renissa’s safety or punish the Lestrange brothers for going against his wishes to have her killed.

Let’s say it’s post-1998 and Renissa is around thirty-six or thirty-seven? Right? Since she was born in 1962 so that would make her around one of those ages. Anyways, Andromeda somehow finds her at the sanitarium and is so relieved that Renissa is alive that she gets her discharged and brings her to live with her and Teddy?

If I remember correctly, you mentioned to me once that Renissa would’ve been close with the Black sisters, since Tasoula and Druella were best friends at Hogwarts. I understand they would’ve grown up together, and maybe could’ve seen each other as sisters? I feel like Renissa and Andromeda would’ve been the closest since they both didn’t share in their family’s pure-blood ideologies.

I don’t know how Andy could’ve found Renissa, or how she would’ve known to go looking for her if Ren had been registered under an alias. But perhaps maybe Rabastan could’ve told Andromeda? I feel like the two were also pretty close, and I headcanon that at some point Rabastan was a potential husband for Andy.

If Rabastan had lived past the Battle of Hogwarts, Andromeda could’ve visited him in Azkaban and he might’ve told her about Renissa still being alive? That kinda makes more sense to me rather than Andromeda stumbling about Renissa herself.

…Thoughts?

This ask has actually caused me to reconsider a few things I had planned for Renissa. Originally, I think I've mentioned that she would stay at St. Mungo's for the remainder of her life in an ask I got a while back, but that's probably not going to happen. Renissa will leave at some point, possibly within only a couple years of being admitted there. I feel like she is a character with so much wasted potential, and I don't want to keep her on the sidelines. What you said about Andromeda taking in Renissa after the war is something that I haven't thought about before. If Andy did end up finding Renissa and discharging her from St. Mugo's sometime after the war, then she still wouldn't remember Andromeda or who she was before Rodolphus and Rabastan obliviated her. As I've said before, Renissa isn't ever going to get her memory back, unfortunately, but the idea of Andy being reunited with her childhood friend is so bittersweet and it could work as a possible ending for the lost Lestrange girl. A while back, I actually thought of having a Lestrange OC marry into the Scamander family as a way to create a parallel between Newt and Leta. I was thinking that maybe Renissa could've married Lycidas Scamander? One of Tina and Newt's twins. I know I haven't gone that far into depth with this character, since I believe I only posted a few aesthetics and a small strip of headcanons for him. A problem with this would be that Lycidas is about sixteen years Renissa's senior... I mean that isn't exactly a problem but it's not very ideal. I guess it isn't that big of a deal seeing as Nymphadora and Remus were maybe thirteen years apart? I can't remember. Age gap couples aren't really my thing, especially when we started getting into modern times where it becomes less common. Lycidas would've met Renissa at St. Mugo's since he actually works there as a Psychopathologist. Obviously, Renissa wasn't actually mentally ill or anything so I'm not sure how she'd fit into his department, but they did know each other. Lycidas was kindhearted and sympathetic to his patients, and I guess that contributed to him later earning Renissa's trust. Keep in mind that by this point it's 1980 and Renissa is eighteen, and according to the birth date I gave Lycidas (1946) he's like what... thirty-four? Now that kinda concerns me lmao but I could always change it if I wanted to. Of course, that would make Newt and Tina significantly older when they had their twins (around their fifties?) so idk how I feel about that.

If Renissa marries Lycidas then she would have Rolf by the time she's nineteen, since I believe he's about the same age as Luna. That would mean that Lycidas and Renissa would've had to get married or start an official relationship within the first year she was admitted, which to me seems a bit rushed. I'm still thinking of loop holes around all of this, but I might just end up trashing this idea altogether if I'm being completely honest with you. Side note: the name Rolf would go perfect with my headcanon for the lestrange family naming their children with letter 'r' names and also the common theme of their meanings having to do with wolves.

extra side note: Renissa had the gift of foresight and I bet you they drove her a little mad, so I guess there is a possibility that she would've been put in a ward for the mentally ill? I like to think she drew out her visions on the walls of her room.

[greenleaf4stuff]

Of Convenience 3

(all previous parts of "Of Convenience")

Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage AU, 3rd snippet. Officiator found, Adar and Celebrimbor get right down to business and get wed in the uruk camp. However, there is an unforseen hurdle. Celebrimbor ends up being the voice of reason this time around – with unexpectedly nice consequences. (aka, a kiss)

I feel like my muse has lured me in with candy (the political marriage AU idea) and is now holding me captive (making me write more snippets). Not like I have like. 20 ideas in my ideas folder and two other WIPs open or anything like that. Nuh-uh. I feel like I have gotten completely blindsided but – I am having an absolute blast so far?! Let’s see how far this wave will carry me, shall we?

(Also a big huge Thank You to everyone who has commented and liked and reblogged and sent me messages about these snippets, it’s been an absolute delight and I partly credit your lovely encouragement with why I have gotten so invested in this.)

They got through the 'ceremony' much better than Celebrimbor had expected. Between Galadriel's lingering reluctance and their shared lack of in-depth knowledge on how elven marriages were to be officiated, it had taken them a while to work out all the details (Adar had helped out in that regard, to both Celebrimbor’s and Galadriel’s surprise) – and then one of the uruk had demanded the two husbands-to-be add some words that included Adar's children and the marriage's legitimacy among them into the vows.

Safe to say, trying to get Galadriel and the uruk - Glug, if Celebrimbor was not mistaken - to settle down after this had been a bit of a hassle.

But still, they got through it - without cussing, without bloodshed, without attempts on one of the grooms' lives (Celebrimbor was considering Galadriel with newfound respect as he acknowledged that particular feat), and so the smith would count the proceedings as a victory. He'd had very few of those in the last few weeks, and would take it for what it was.

However, when it came to the end of the wedding ceremony, another problem arose:

"No," Adar flatly stated. It caused Celebrimbor to blink in surprise, and Galadriel to glare at the uruk from where she stood next to the two future husbands. Adar's face had hardened into a grimace of disapproval. "There must be a way to circumvent this."

What he was talking about was, of course, the part during which he and Celebrimbor were meant to kiss to seal the marriage. It was a common practice, not just among elves but men and dwarves as well. That Adar either hadn't anticipated it, or would now make such a fuss about it after having championed a political marriage as their primary option of cooperation, was baffling, to say the least.

Celebrimbor knit his eyebrows in confusion, even as Galadriel spoke. "Orc- Uruk. You pushed for this to take place, you cannot possibly think to stop now when we have almost reached an accord and bound the two of you-"

"I will not kiss him," Adar replied. This time, there was steel in his voice. "He accepted a political marriage, not one of passion. He clearly does not want to kiss me. I will not force him into it."

Judging by Galadriel's resulting look, she was taken just as off-guard by Adar's words and the smith was.

Coupled with Adar's strained expression, Celebrimbor couldn't help but feel warm at the other's objections.

The uruk had told him he wouldn't touch Celebrimbor without permission, that he would not force him. This had clearly been important to him, even before he'd fetched Galadriel. That it went so far as to include a kiss to seal their arrangement was doing something to Celebrimbor's stomach, and made him feel unexpectedly safe. Confident, even.

He could see that Galadriel and Adar were ready to get into yet another spat, so the smith stepped forward and slowly – very slowly – raised his hands to Adar's face.

The uruk briefly startled, surprised at the elf's brazen gesture, and it took him some obvious effort to untense again. Still, when Celebrimbor brought his hands up to the his cheeks, the uruk did not withdraw.

The feel of Adar's rough, scarred skin under Celebrimbor's fingertips sent a shock through the smith. The other was warmer than he had expected.

Up this close, Adar had green-blue eyes. And they were so completely focused on the smith that it almost stole his the air from his lungs.

"Adar," he tried, and could have sworn that the other had sucked in a breath as he spoke the uruk's name. "You were right, this arrangement is our best chance to avoid a bloody, gruesome war that would claim the lives of countless people – those of my fellow elves, and your children," he spoke back the uruk's words at him, as if reminding him.

"I trust you not to betray this alliance, and I trust you not to hurt me. You haven't so far. I allow you to-," it wouldn't help his case if his words failed him now. "To kiss me. It is part of the ceremony. It will take but a moment. I am allowing you to do this. Maybe neither of us has a desire for it, but, it is no hardship if done for a lasting peace."

Adar looked torn, mouth pinched and eyebrows furrowed, as he stared at Celebrimbor.

The smith tried again. "If you are holding back only for my sake, you do not have to. Truly. Though if it is because you are having second thoughts-"

"That is not it," the uruk spoke, voice brash, and he needed a moment reign himself in again. Celebrimbor waited with bated breath – his fingers still rested on Adar's cheeks, and the uruk hadn't even made an attempt to grab them or shake them away from his body. "I said I would not force you."

"You are not forcing me," Celebrimbor disputed, and leant closer. He could see Adar's eyes widen as he almost touched their foreheads together. The way the uruk’s mouth unconsciously opened made Celebrimbor feel even warmer, and he pressed forward with his words. "I could imagine far worse choices for a marriage, or even a kiss. You needn't fear for my comfort."

Granted, not exactly the most elegant thing to say to a man who would soon be bound to his side and commandeer a huge, deadly army straight towards Ost-In-Edhil, but it was the best Celebrimbor could come up with – without obviously lying, or giving away how the the thought of kissing Adar did in fact at least stirr something within him. A little.

He'd never just been interested in elves as potential partners, but he'd never thought he'd find himself in the position of kissing an orc- er, uruk.

Nor that he'd be even remotely interested in wanting to.

It was, indeed, a very strange day.

Maybe some of his thoughts had shown on his face, or perhaps his shoddy attempt of making Adar feel at peace had done some good after all, but the uruk eventually dropped his strained expression and exchanged it for a slightly guarded, but more relieved one. He nodded. "If you are sure."

"Surest I will be, considering the circumstances," Celebrimbor said with a tiny laugh, before he sobered again. "Apologies. But yes, I am sure. You may kiss me. Let us do this."

Somehow, his words did the trick, because when the smith leant forward, Adar did the same.

At the edge of his awareness, Celebrimbor could hear Galadriel gasp and the uruk guards make noises of disgust as they – very loudly – turned away from the proceedings.

But all that seemed to fall away when compared to the feeling of touching his lips to Adar's. It was a chaste kiss, just a press of lips really, but it was...surprisingly nice. Adar's lips were softer than Celebrimbor had expected, slightly parted and as warm as his cheeks.

Their noses brushed as the two moved closer together, and after a moment, there was a gauntleted hand on Celebrimbor's shoulder as Adar tried to balance himself. And soon after that, a second hand – slow and cautious – grasped his elbow.

Physical contact, yes, but it was done in such a considerate and respectful way that Celebrimbor hadn't seen it coming. He felt his belly quiver once more, this time more strongly than when he'd first considered what touching Adar might be like. It was hard, not to lean fully into the kiss – into the uruk – and just sink into the touch like he would into a hot bath.

When Adar drew away from the kiss, Celebrimbor realized with a start that he'd closed his eyes some time during it. Judging by how Adar had to reorient himself, he'd likely had the same happen as well.

'Huh,' the smith thought, and followed Adar's example as they untangled their hands from each other. Adar even brushed down the smith's robe before he retracted his hand from Celebrimbor’s elbow, while the elf couldn't help letting his hand touch Adar's hair as he dropped his arms.

It, too, was unexpectedly soft.

Flustered, he turned to Galadriel, ready to have her announce the marriage as officiated.

And felt the need to avert his gaze at the near scandalized, wide-eyed way Galadriel was looking at him, mouth open and all.

'Why isn't Elrond here to witness this? I thought there was absolutely no way to turn Galadriel of the Golden House of Finarfin speechless. He surely won't believe me when I tell him,' Celebrimbor thought, just a touch hysterical.

"That should be it, right? The wedding has been performed," Adar stated. He was once again standing next to the large table in the center of the tent, ready to down another glass of wine. Celebrimbor couldn't help thinking that so much wine before a battle could not be a good idea, but who knew what kind of a tolerance the uruk had.

Truth be told, Celebrimbor could probably use a glass himself, all things considered.

When Adar offered him one unexpectedly a moment later, the smith took it with a surprised but pleased expression, and thanked the other for it. Adar dismissed it, though not unkindly.

Finally, Galadriel found her voice again. Not without a sputter at first, however.

"You are right. You are now bound together. It...it is done."

"Well then. Cheers," was Celebrimbor’s reply to that, stated drily, before he downed his glass. Not the kind of wedding he'd imagined for himself, but well. At least he didn't have to invite Thranduil. That had to count for something, right?

[part-time-zombie]

im not in the sanders sides fandom anymore and i havent been for a long time but im seein you reblog a bunch of sanders sides stuff.... opinion on intrulogical? lol

Its such a fun ship lol, i can always get behind the whole "opposites attract" style pairing when I find it compelling and these two are no exception.

Putting it simply, I love the mad scientist vibes they give together, and the beautiful disaster that comes when you combine Remus' chaos with Logan's order.

For a more angsty, in depth opinion:

I also think what it is about this ship that I like so much is despite how they regularly seem to be on the opposite side of almost every spectrum that applies to them, they still have one core trait in common that I like to think they can relate to, even if they don't necessarily realize it.

In a way, they've both been constantly and consistently ignored.

Logan is usually only called on to fix the problem or answer a question, otherwise he's left behind and considered boring or a buzz kill. The others (namely Roman) repeatedly point out how he bores or bothers them, and that his desire for reason or order detracts from their fun. His own desires are always secondary at best, despite how those desires only focus on Thomas' own well-being and rarely on things that Logan himself likes.

Remus has been rejected for decades of thomas' life, only finally being noticed when thomas' mental health has finally plummeted enough for him to no longer have the strength to keep him pushed down anymore.

Other dark sides have already been trash talked by one or two light sides, i.e. Roman saying he "can't stand" Virgil and "hates" Janus (both in their very first appearances), but Remus is the only one to my knowledge that Thomas himself has repeatedly and openly resented.

Comparing Remus' experiences with being deemed "unwanted" by Thomas with Logan's repeated neglect by both him and the sides, I feel like in spite of their many differences they'd at least see a reflection of their own loneliness in each other and perhaps understand if not admit to it.

[arceespinkgun]

More detailed thoughts on the current arc of the Skybound comics (spoilers for up to the most current issue, #16) in which I give some more insight into why I'm still kinda ambivalent about certain parts:

Starting with the negatives to get them out of the way (they're not super serious or anything but I think they're why I'm not sure how I feel yet).

The characters who are part of the Combiners are not really characterized at all, and when they are it seems very odd. The Combaticons as big Starscream fans is really strange to see, especially when I remember their G1 debut. Mostly, the Constructicons and Combaticons feel like they're fulfilling rank-filling roles.

It's too vague right now to know what exactly happened between Starscream and Megatron in the past, but if Megatron was compelling or mind-controlling Starscream, I think that doesn't really do Starscream a lot of justice. However (and this is a big however) I believe this plotline is probably symbolic and ties into what's going on with Optimus. This series seems to be exploring the harsh realities of war and its corrupting influences, so even if I'm not sure about how one particular character is written, it may serve the greater narrative.

Arcee's crisis in #16 didn't make sense to me? She didn't jeopardize anything at all, that was only Optimus's (wrong) interpretation... and he went and killed Shockwave anyway! It just seemed odd to me to see her be comforted by Optimus when it almost feels a little hypocritical.

The thing I still find most frustrating is, unsurprisingly, how Jazz is written in this series. He barely feels like a real person with depth even now. Although nothing is like, contradicting his G1 characterization, the fact that Jazz was one of the most prominent and fleshed-out of all the transformers is making me feel like he's not being utilized very well. He always had lots of interesting things to say in the cartoon but I don't feel like that's happening here.

Now onto the positive things!

I continue to adore what DWJ's doing with Elita-1. We get to see her now as a leader of a team, a trait I've been waiting for, and I was surprised by and enjoy her friendship with Warpath! I never would've thought of something like that, but I guess it makes sense. They've been portrayed as Cybertronian resistance fighters before. Her smile while he's getting repaired was so sweet.

In a similar vein, I love seeing characters who have always been around but rarely focused on getting much more attention and care in the narrative. Bluestreak's ruthlessness was great to see focused on and maybe this series will do something more with the fact that his backstory is like Cliffjumper's in this series. I was really excited to see Trailbreaker, a character with a ton of potential, get to shine a little too! I really hope he goes on to be a major character.

Astrotrain is also a highlight for me, and I was pretty surprised to hear he wants revenge against Megatron because... Megatron killed his love interest? This is a surprising and confusing turn I never would've thought of, but I guess this is how Astrotrain would act if such a thing happened, and I'm wracking my brain trying to guess what the backstory is there. I think I'd prefer if this was about a pre-existing character and not an OC, because I found Starscream's backstory about a dead OC friend kinda weak TBH.

I'm super excited to see further fallout of Thundercracker feeling so betrayed and I was happy that this finally happened.

Megatron using Laserbeak as his eyes is really cool and I doubt DWJ would do this, but it would kind of be nice if Megatron was just blind for the whole series.

I'm really eager to see how this comic approaches the deep-seating transformer cultural issue of creating new life to be soldiers thing now that its reared its ugly head, and if Cliffjumper might have some kind of crisis later on if he feels guilt over his choices.

The art is just incredible and continues to be!

For now, I think I'm waiting to see if all this comes together like the end of the last arc worked so well.

[josefavomjaaga]

Napoleonic daily soap, episode 5: 12 Vendémiaire

Scene: The Tuileries. Evening, torch lights. People running to and fro, soldiers gathering in the courtyard, scared members of the Convention barricading themselves.

Cut to Barras’ improvised war room. A table with a map of Paris. Barras walks up and down behind it, talking to some generals gathered in front of him, among them Brune and Napoleon.

Barras:

„I do not need to tell you, gentlemen, that the situation is dire. I mean, we’re having a real crisis here, with people wanting to kill us. Again. Royalists this time. And as I do not know the first thing about military stuff, I have called for you, so that you can take care…“

Napoleon [cuts him off]:

„Why, of course you would have. And it’s a good thing you did. [walks briskly up to the table and leans over the map, the other generals follow suite, completely ignoring Barras] So, let’s see. The obvious keypoints we have to protect are [points at the map] here, here and here.“

Brune [annoyed]:

„Possibly. But what makes you think you are giving the orders here? Don’t you think you should ask our opinion first?“

Napoleon [astonished]:

„Why? I mean, is there something I overlooked, do you not agree with me?“

Brune:

„No, you’re quite right, it’s just that…“

Napoleon:

„Well, excellent. Listen, Brune, you take a couple of men and position yourself here. The other gentlemen occupy the rest of the positions I have pointed out. [turns around to Barras] And as I am the only artilleryman here, I’ll take care of the canons. We’ll position them right at the entrance of the Tuileries, in order to give those insurgents a proper welcome.“

Barras [awkwardly]

„Well, about those canons… that might be a problem.“

Napoleon:

„What problem?“

Barras:

„We don’t have any.“

Napoleon:

„No canon? But I’m an artillery general. Why did you even call for me then?“

Barras:

„Well, I thought…“

Napoleon [annoyed]:

„I really do not like it when people waste my time. Or when an employer does not even provide the proper tools for the job. I am not used to bringing my own stuff to work, that’s highly annoying. But I can see that you are in deep shit indeed, so I will let it go. Where’s the next artillery depot?“

Barras:

„There are some canons in Sablons, I am told. But I’m afraid the royalists know that, too. They’re probably already on their way to get them. And as they do outnumber us, I doubt you will find somebody dumb… I mean: courageous enough to try and get those canons to Paris before them.“

CUT to new scene: Tuileries courtyard. Darkness, a fire burning. Several cavalrymen holding in the saddle, happily chatting with each other and with some foot soldiers nearby.

Murat [on a horse, proudly tugging at his pelisse, to a soldier]

„So, how do you like it?“

Soldier:

„I do not think it’s in accordance with army regulations for cavalry uniforms.“

Murat [grinning]

Of course it’s not. It has style, unlike our army regulations. Plus, it’s my favourite colour. You have to see it in daylight.

Another cavalryman:

„I have. It’s an eyesore.“

Murat:

„Correction. It would be an eyesore on you. On me, it’s the most fetching piece of clothing one can imagine, and I dare say the ladies will pay much attention to it.“

[Napoleon’s voice from off-screen]

„Hey, you there. On the horse!“

Soldier:

„I think he means you, Murat.“

Murat:

„Impossible. If he meant me, he would have said: Hey, you there, that most handsome and dashing one on the horse! [turns around, beams at Napoleon] What can I do for you, mon général?“

Napoleon [stops to regard him]:

„I do not think your uniform is quite in accordance with army regulations.“

Murat:

„That’s quite possible, sir. We’re cavalry.“

Napoleon:

„Whatever. I have an errand for you. Do you know where Sablons is? I need somebody to go there and pick up some canon for me.“

Murat:

„Sounds easy enough. Where’s the catch?“

Napoleon:

„You have to be back before daylight, and there’s a royalist mob on the way likely to attack you. Do you think you can do it?“

Murat [sits tall in the saddle, with dramatic flourish]:

„How can you even ask me that, general? Do not doubt me, I am Joachim Murat! Here we are, I and my men, to your service, ready to give our blood for the fatherland and its republic, ready to bring those canons here before rose-fingerend Eos awakens the day, or to die trying! Let all impertinent royalists of France stand in my way, let an army of ten thousand waylay us, it will not keep me from doing my sacred duty!“

Napoleon [stares at him open-mouthed, but without a word, as realization sets in]

„You are Gascon.“

Murat [beams, proudly]

„I sure am. [the smile vanishes, he leans down from his horse to Napoleon, in a serious tone] But I will still get you those canons, sir.“

Napoleon [nods]

„Be quick.“

[gyrovagi]

have you ever felt the warmth of a god's happiness?

[zhuoyichenpretty]

Ep 22-23 Commentary

Ha...I was inexplicably nervous for eps 22-23 and it looks like I was right to be (-: What a rollercoaster. Spoilers below!

I've just come out of ep 23 and uh????? holy shit????? ZYC????

Ok ok but to backtrack, let's do my comments semi-chronologically:

Ep 22:

A carry-over from ep 21 that I have to mention—heck yeah PSJ give WZY hell. She doesn't have all that many lines but she sure knows how to make them count. Also seeing PSJ and WX get screen time just the two of them makes my brain go "yay <3"

Back to ep 22, loved the fake-out sundial ayeee that was a nice Chekhov's gun that also brings the real sundial back into relevance for later. Also me eating up the PSJ and ZYC crumb of an interaction has brought to my attention how starved I am of their screen time together.

This whole ep was a great lament towards the feared inevitable. Every sad downcast look from ZYC, every complicated glance WX gives him. A wonderful, terrible crossroads for these characters. I love that for ZYC especially, it's such an incredible mess of emotion coming to a head. Bad enough that he's come to care about the demon who killed his family and ruined his life, bad enough that he's sworn a blood oath he regrets and tied himself to punishing someone he no longer finds culpable, bad enough that ZYZ's life or death depends solely on his choice and ZYZ is constantly practically begging for death when ZYC wants him to live. How much immensely worse it makes the whole situation that WX is literally ZYZ's soulmate. And obviously the whole team has only grown more and more attached to ZYZ, too. ZYC's personal turmoil aside, how heavy must that responsibility and guilt be? For the finishing blow that only he can deliver to also deeply threaten every other person he cares about? Everyone understands in the abstract what must happen and why, but just like seeing ZYZ lose control firsthand, the gulf between understanding and experiencing is so unimaginably wide. If he kills ZYZ, can there really be no resentment from his friends? From WX?

Also it seems ZYC only wears cloaks so that he can give them to other people lmao

Ah fuck, the farewell drinks. I didn't even factor in how ZYC might not survive the encounter (''': The drama truly was like hm can we possibly give ZYC a worse day than that night his whole fam died? Maybe give him a bunch of new family members and also the blade and the fate and the sole responsibility to potentially irrevocably scar said family members with? And he might die in the process too? (-: haha maybe? (((-:

Oh. Oh. Addendum. I forgot this til I saw it mentioned in another post—ZYC recounting his oath as he watched WX smile when they discussed reviving the tree...I could feel him weighing those words against his own life, against ZYZ's life, against WX's happiness. One way out of this impossible situation is indeed to doom himself. I'm in pieces.

Damn if WX isn't dedicated heart and soul, going into the sundial like that. I'm sad no one could keep her company for those 300 years but also I guess that's kind of an impossible ask (and maybe not survivable for the other non-goddess mortals? I'm admittedly very unclear on sundial time loophole logistics). It would have been nice to see someone offer though, even just to be turned down.

Ooh I like the soul needle fake-out, given this show's penchant for retroactive "actually we had a plan all along" moments. A good subversion of the narrative's own style.

Also I saved this for the end because it doesn't really fit the linearity of my comments but what the fuuuuuuuck oh my god I absolutely flipped out at this scene:

I am at once rabidly intrigued and at the same time not sure if I'll be satisfied with whatever payoff will come for this so I don't want to overindulge in theorizing and setting my own expectations too high. Maybe this is just a fevered hallucination, maybe it means nothing (I hope it means something). But damn!!! What a gorgeous man crazy scene.

In conclusion, ep 22 had some good stuff for me. Plot development and reflection and tension enough that I may have been satisfied with just that one episode. But they gave us two, so onward to ep 23 comments!

Ep 23:

I like how many solid reasons the team has to suspect ZYC being possessed. Even though I withheld judgment during my watch given how quickly the show usually confirms that kind of stuff with a possession mark, just simply casting that doubt made the whole build up that much more intense.

ZYC slowly walking down the corridor with the whole grounds lit a somber and haunting gold—*chef's kiss*

ZYC's monologue to a catatonic ZYZ is so important to me. The closest we'll get to his internal monologue about this whole situation. The kinds of things said when we think there's no conscious listener.

Okay so, having finished this episode and looking back, Li Lun's hands coming up from behind ZYC was not to denote possession (at least in this episode), potentially is a visual from ZYZ's POV, and seems related to the above screencap. I am so, so curious. Once again, I'm stopping myself from further speculation because I want to be surprised but ahhhhhhhhh

PSJ shooting at Ao Yin is so gorgeous. Her action scenes seriously never disappoint—the creativity of her fight choreos!! Also very cool that the whole team is getting to take part in the action, not just the two male leads.

Bai Jiu possession was not on my bingo card but I sure do love that we literally saw the possession take place and I still didn't connect the dots. Good shitttt. Also oh no ): ZYC was telling the truth about the soul needle, he was just tricked ):

Seriously from the Ao Yin case to getting PSJ released to reviving the Divine Wood to getting tricked by possessed!Bai Jiu to making pear soup to fighting ZYZ to fighting Li Lun—when will ZYC get a single goddamn vacation day holy shit.

Also when will WX tear up that contract so ZYZ can stop having a mild heart attack every time he wants to kiss her ): &I love that they saved the 300-year montage for this moment. While their ship doesn't give me brainrot personally, who could be unmoved by that incredible and undisclosed sacrifice? That's soulmatism.

Okay, I'd seen clips of them filming the ZYC and Li Lun fight but damn I did not expect it'd be happening right now!! Right after already taking damage from ZYZ? And my god is Li Lun brutal. The two actors did such an impressive job on this entire fight, what with Li Lun's ease and ZYC's suffering. I really appreciated the extensive hand-to-hand combat after Li Lun literally obliterated ZYC's sword. (Also though, given the origin of that sword, I kept hoping for a flashback to ZYC's brother once it broke, but alas, no dice.) Anyway, the show does not play around about ZYC whump it seems. I was very very shook by that throat punch; that shit legitimately looked like it hurt.

Honestly, I had a hard time with the extended ZYZ and Li Lun conversation at the very end because oh my god someone please heal ZYC lmao. But of course, that's the end of the episode~~

Y'all...check on your local ZYC stans because I was not okay after all that (': I need a heaping dose of comfort after all that hurt, but as always I'm cautious of hoping for much from canon itself. So yeah! Ep 23 was solid, but I would probably be in better shape if today's release just ended on ep 22 ((':

Time to go wait for the cast's Hi6 episode to drop so I can heal my battered heart ;-;

[16-puppies]

Yes!! I absolutely understand what you’re saying and I agree pretty much. Like yes, it’s important to accept every nonhuman identity, and I don’t think the people who experience nonhumanity this way are necessarily “fakers” or “being nonhuman wrong” or are less serious about it than others, but also there seems to be an obvious difference between how these types of nonhumans experience the identity (as in more of a metaphorical, aesthetic, or symbolic way) vs how other nonhumans experience their identity. It also seems like these types of nonhumans make up a large portion of the community, so then you end up with this weird limbo where the therian community is both incredibly diverse and ridiculously homogeneous. Like, I remember making a post a few days ago about how there’s this sort of specific “dog therian aesthetic” that is super popular in the community, and it kindof leaves out the experiences of other people. It’s also interesting seeing this current clash in the community about how far away and distinct therians and other nonhumans are from being human in any way, and yet from what I’ve seen there is a lot more human influence on people’s identities than most of us realize.

Again, I don’t really want to say that nonhuman identities aren’t nonhuman if they’re created or influenced by emotions or if it’s identifying symbolically or metaphorically (even if the one identifying doesn’t realize it) because my dog theriotype very much still is/was influenced by emotions, specifically grief, but also… I still… researched? Like my dog theriotype is still one I was questioning before I experienced grief. I think one of the most confusing things about interacting with the therian community is going into it thinking that research of theriotypes and introspection was going to be a major focus for everyone over a year ago when I awakened and now im here and its… not really like that for a lot of people? And im not trying to be elitist about it and say like “oh you actually have to know 5 billion facts about your theriotype or you’re not valid, you have to know exactly which clade and genus your theriotype is from and if you cannot say their scientific name in perfect latin obviously that means you’re faking” because that would obviously be stupid but ALSO… if you’re supposedly a coyote therian, and all you’re basing it off is just “well I feel like this so I must be this”, how likely is it that you’re actually another small wild canine? Maybe you’re really a jackal, or a culpeo, or a short-eared dog, or a dingo, or a carolina dog, or some other canine no one’s ever heard of but because you didn’t care to research you’ll never know. How many therians have the wrong theriotype because of this?

I also feel like the community should be more accepting of temporary nonhuman identities… like, if you’re identifying as an animal because of emotions of feeling hurt, betrayed, angry, lonely, etc. and you heal from that, will the identity then disappear? We should at least be open to the possibility, because it’s not like identity is set in stone till the day we die. And there’s nothing wrong or bad or stupid with identifying as an animal because of these things, even if it’s seen as “out of the norm” for things like therianthropy. But like… I also understand what you mean by saying that these people don’t exactly understand what it means to be animal… so it makes me wonder, do we need a new term for this phenomenon, or would that be too much? Maybe just more encouragement to research and do actual self reflection?

LIKE… I WANT TO REITERATE THAT I GET IT. I really do get it. Sometimes I read things from a therian and I just shake my head like… is that really all you think it means to be an animal? And I’m so worried about talking about this in depth with most others in the community because I don’t want people to think I’m gatekeeping yknow?

I also think that some of the general negative ideas about humans and humanity that circulate in the community inadvertently discourage people from questioning their identity from time to time and realizing that they may be human or even partially human, or even discussion about partially human identities or metaphorical/symbolic identities like the ones described here. It’s another phenomenon that can be classified into what you described — following the masses and seeking community, even if that means misinterpreting a part of yourself. It’s like so many of us in the community are in a race to be “more nonhuman” than everyone else, and to denounce anything to do with humans and humanity even if that means denying a part of your nonhuman identity and how it intertwines with humanity. It’s not saying that we are all inherently human, but rather that it’s okay if your identity has ties to humanity or even if it’s fully human.

Conclusion i guess… I think there needs to be more focus on actually reflecting on your identity which is why I was drafting a post to “redefine” therianthropy to encourage this… as well as more awareness of therianthropy that is more than just psychological, spiritual, or physical. Like, overall I think it’s fine for people to metaphorically or symbolically be an animal and maybe having more awareness of this will help people understand and define their experiences more? Instead of all of us being lumped together when many of us experience therianthropy very differently? I don’t know… I really don’t know… I’m not sure it would be a good idea anyways because there’s already a lot of words that mean nearly the same things but just slightly different.. I feel like I see a coining post every week lol /lh .

(I hope this all makes sense and I hope I understood your points correctly lol, this is just mostly additional ramblings that I thought of in relation to all of this)

not take but I think nearly 90% of therian identities are at least somewhat subconsciously (or consciously) affected by emotional states and how the heart feels through the logical filter of the mind (like.. wanting unconditional love is clearly a canine thing, wanting respect and space is a feline thing, wanting to be feared and yet soft is like some big cat thing.. etc.. no? The stereotypes still are ever so present)

but idk man

[madamescarlette]

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