#i like to see how it works. what makes it tick. how one thread connects to another

[crowsent]

to be perfectly frank this is none of my business. im not the one behind the screen. not the one with the controller. not the one who likes to play the game super conservatively healin every other turn wastin what could be a potential attack

literally have no business in this

but my god how can one human bein suck this goddamn bad

i am physically cringin at how ineffective he is

the only numbers he pays attention to is level and health. disregardin how op magic can get. disregardin strength. disregardin the mechanics of a game he claims to love

how can you truly love somethin without attemptin to understand it? if you only play it for some sick twisted sense of nostalgia? if you constantly compare it to the past without ever acknowledging what makes it different makes it beautiful

he doesnt play the game. he goes through the motions. he presses buttons bc thats what progresses. he isnt IN it. he isnt there. hes jus doin it to do it and i just

why bother playin the game then

why bother sinkin time and effort into it if you wont be THERE????????

[fraugwinska]

Minors DNI - 18+ - Explicit Sexual Content - 4,6k words Attention: Mentions of fictional Witchcraft and Voodoo (I know this is a very sensitive topic, which is why I threaded very vaguely and lightly. I mean absolutely NO disrespect to either of those spiritualities)

Master of Puppets

You paced nervously through your room. The clock ticked the safe seconds away, the seconds Alastor where wasn't here. The seconds where Alastor didn't know.

He liked you, of course. At least enough to experiment with you, that much you could say with confidence. He had shown interest in the little witch inventor that joined the hotel, sharing the same proficiency in magic as himself. Although, unlike him, you had been an eclectic witch in your lifetime, and used more traditional western magic, whereas Alastor wasn't familiar with that, relying fully on voodoo practices he learned from the women of his family. So, you taught him and he taught you, and over the shared hours of lessons, discussions and practices, things got more and more... handsy. Until one day even the last gap between you was closed, and before both of you knew it you were sharing a bed more often than a book on sigils or rituals.

It was a mutual thing. You were insanely attracted to him, and he liked you well enough to indulge in activities he'd normally frown upon. Which made you feel special - It didn't soothe the nerves though, as you fumbled around with the little objects in the black carved box, making sure everything was perfect, before hastily slamming it shut when you heard knocks on the door.

"Yes?" you said, as if you hadn't been expecting him, as if your heart wasn't trying to leap out of your chest.

"Darling, it's me! May I come in?" you heard him say, and the door opening before you could answer. "I hope I'm not too early."

You turned around, giving him a shy smile after glancing at the clock on the wall. "You're right on time, as always."

"Punctuality is one of the only virtues I try uphold." He took a few steps towards you. "Is everything alright? You look nervous."

"Do I? It's... Nothing. I just have... I'm excited for something to show to you."

"Really?" He was intrigued, leaning in a little. "Well, now I'm curious. Is it the skinning spell you've been working on? I might have some test subjects in mind, if you are already finished."

You cleared your throat, feeling your heart beating painfully in your chest. "Not quite. I made something new, though."

"Oh?" he said, tilting his head to the side. "What is it?"

You fidgeted, not knowing how to start, how to ease him into it. He was a man that didn't appreciate if one beat around the bush, so better to rip the band-aid off in one violent, leap-of-faith-kind of way. You went to the black box, fingers trembling as you lifted the golden hatch, and before you could change your mind and call the whole thing off you scooped the small voodoo dolls out and held them out to him.

"I made these. For you... Us."

He was taken aback for a moment, not saying anything as he stared at the two little cloth figures, then down at you. They were intricately made replicas of you both, you had spent hours and hours sewing them, even going so far as to design and make identical outfits for them. He took both of them out of your hands, turning them slowly in his own, examining them with a frighteningly unreadable look.

"So you solely tried your hands on my profession I see. Why?" his eyes were boring into you, the smile on his face tight and tense, and you had to fight yourself not to stutter.

"I-I figured..." You swallowed hard. "I thought it could help us to... to be closer. More connected, in a way. And I thought you would like to... try this."

He blinked slowly, and the grin he wore stretched a bit further, the static getting louder in your ears. You were starting to think he didn't like it. You were starting to regret this.

"It is an unusual gift." His voice was calm, laced with a hint of curiosity, but you still couldn't relax. "Quite a surprise, too."

"Is that good or bad?" you asked, and he chuckled softly.

"I don't know, darling. That depends on how it will be used." He holds up your miniature, his brows raised expectantly. "Tell me how it works."

"Uh... Well, it's more of a mix between your and my magic. T-they have some of my spells sewn into them, and then I enchanted them on your altar. All that's left to do is to tie a hair around the neck of it and offer a drop of blood, and... we will be able to feel anything that's done to the doll."

"Feel?" He cocked his head to the side, eyes gleaming with dark excitement.

"Anything." Your throat was dry, the words almost catching there.

"That sounds positively delightful."

Your heart did a flip in your chest as his voice lowered into a purr, his eyes fixed on the tiny you, the static rising around him. He was captivated, but also suspicious, and that didn't make your anxiety lessen one bit. More so as he found the red stain on your dolls chest and the shimmer of a hair around its neck. Your version of a peace offering.

"It seems this little thing is already prepared and ready to use, isn't it, dearest?" he hummed, looking at you, the smile stretching wide and showing his sharp teeth.

"Yes... if you wanted to... see how it worked first. To decide whether you want to give it a try."

He laughed, and the sound made you shiver. There was no humor in it, but sheer anticipation. Hunger. "Well then. Better not waste such a generous opportunity."

He sat his own replica down on the nightstand next to your bed, and settled down on the mattress, patting the spot next to him for you to join. You did, sitting as stiff as a board, your eyes trained on him as he looked down at your little doll. He seemed to contemplate for a moment, before running his fingers across the doll's body, and you gasped.

All your hard work evidently payed off - The touch felt eerily real. Warm, like the heat of his hands was spreading all over you, a soft caress up the middle of your stomach, a tickle around your waist. His fingertips traveled upward, pressing softly against your chest, and your breath stocked in your lungs.

"You've really outdone yourself with this one darling. So receptive..." Alastor's smile widened into a full grin, and the fact that he didn't need to touch your skin to see the blush creeping across your cheeks was one detail he seemed to particularly enjoy. The rough feeling of his claws grating against you was replaced with the hot touch of phantom lips, pressing gently against your neck as he pulled the small shirt collar aside, his tongue licking across the doll's shoulder.

The sensation almost felt out of place in comparison, making you fall onto your back with a gasp, into the soft covers of your bed, unable to maintain any sort of composure. Instead of feather light touches, his mouth felt way heavier on your skin than it should. Warm, wet... As he scraped his teeth along the little doll's neck, a low moan slipped between your lips.

"And what attention to details. It's almost a shame to ruin your hard work, but oh well."

His eyes stayed on you as he hooked a fingertip under the dolls garments, cutting it clean off of it, and even though yours stayed fully intact - what you were feeling was a whole different story. Your eyes betrayed you: Even fully clothed you felt the cool air of your room on your skin, you felt exposed, bare and utterly vulnerable. It made your skin break out in goosebumps and your lips part in an unstifled sound of arousal.

"Gorgeous, darling... Absolutely wonderful. A truly masterful piece of magic." The tone of his voice was tingling all over you, a mixture of warm affection and dark cravings. You had never been one to enjoy being praised by a man, but it made you close your eyes and squirm with absolute and desperate need when it came from Alastor. Mouth already open to say something, the words died in your throat, replaced by a high whine when you felt a wet sensation traveling over your stomach down to the inside of your thighs. Your eyes snapped open, finding Alastor's again, his irises practically glowing and locked on you as he ran his tongue all the way across the small body. Teasing. Playing. He narrowed his eyes and traced every curve with the same meticulous patience you knew him for, the sensation sending shocks of excitement and adrenaline through you as it circled the dolls skin, drawing closer and closer to the most intimate parts, until there was nowhere else to trail, nowhere else for it to run to. He stopped, leaving you flushed and panting and shattered next to him on the bed.

"My, my, sweetheart..." he cooed, poking the little doll in his hands into it's side with the softest touch, making you jerk into his side. "At this rate, this seems more like a gift for you than for me."

The blush on your face deepened and you averted your eyes. "...You're probably not wrong."

"No, I'd say I am absolutely right," he chuckled, shifting closer and tracing a hand up your body and to your throat in a smooth motion, and your body arched into the touch with the ease of a moth to flame. For a moment, he didn't move, resting his claws wrapped around your neck, his fingertips heavy on your skin. He seemed to weight his options, deciding on how to proceed. Finally, he leaned into you, bringing his lips closer to yours and when he spoke it was barely a whisper.

"I'll trust you to rectify this circumstance then."

Your eyes widened when he stood up, gently placing your doll down and switching its place with his own. You sat up, watching how he carefully plucked a hair from his head, wrapping it tightly around the neck of his miniature alter ego. It looked almost sinfully elegant and downright seductive, how his long fingers tied it tightly, before he turned back to you, his grin splitting his face in half. There was something in his expression you haven't seen before - hesitancy. It was only a second, but you still held your breath as it passed, and he chuckled as he bit his lip, dark, almost black blood dripping onto the chest of the doll in his hands.

"A rare occasion for me to spill blood. I hope you'll make it worth it."

You swallowed heavily and he grinned, reaching for your hand and gently putting the doll on your palm, giving you a stern, commanding look. "My turn."

You nodded as he settled himself on your bed, now stretching himself fully on the mattress. Lifting your other hand you carefully laid one finger on top of his dolls' throat, before drawing your fingers across and down, over its chest and its sides, making his form shiver and his ears twitch. As you undid the small coat and shirt, dragging your nail gently over the dolls abdomen, Alastor gave a resounding, pleased sigh. You stared at him in wonder of your own work, silently asking yourself if your touches on the fabric in your hands felt as intensified as his did on yours before.

With a spark of nervous excitement you followed a whim of insanity, a quick glance confirming Alastor had his eyes closed. He had never before allowed you to touch his ears - now, their artificial counterparts were at your fingertips, and with a racing heart, you drew a stroke from the base of his ear right across its entire length, all the way until the fine point. A loud, drawn-out groan filled the room and your cheeks burnt crimson when his back arched and his hands twitched towards you, the knuckles white as he clenched them into fists, a tremor going through his shoulders. The groan ended in a long whine, the eyes snapping open and locking right into yours, and your breath hitched as you saw the smoldering embers. His grin grew tighter, strained, and he inhaled deeply through his nostrils, and the intensity of his gaze made your stomach drop, your whole body feeling exposed and naked despite still being fully dressed.

"Testy little thing. Always going for most dangerous experiments..." He shook his head as he exhaled slowly, his breath ragged and labored and in the soft illumination of your bedside lamp his neck was dusted a light pink. You marveled for a second, mesmerized. That was, until his tone dropped an octave, making your body snap back to attention, your nipples hardening painfully beneath your clothes. "How about another then, darling. You do that again..." His shadow tendrils shot out from nowhere, wrapping around your waist and thighs and lifting you over his face as you yelped and almost let the doll slip from your hands, the hem of your skirt pushed aside and heated core right above his watering mouth. "...while I do this."

With no time left for a reply, you felt your flimsy panties flicked aside and your body lowered onto his waiting tongue, all thought replaced by a sudden wave of blinding ecstasy. There was something truly addicting about the heat and hunger of his lips, the way they locked around your clit and sucked you down in the best form of torturous pain like life depended on it, his nails digging into your hips with force, while your brain was practically erasing every input but the burning sensation below. The doll in your hands, pressed to your heaving chest, was long forgotten as your head fell back and each swipe of his cursed appendix sent a shockwave through your spine. You groaned, you whimpered, and Alastor could taste the waves of delicious agony on his tongue. When he withdrew, the loss of his wet heat and the chill of the cool air against your slick folds made you almost break out in tears.

"Focus, dearest, on the task I gave you. Or do I have to repeat myself?"

The growl in his voice snapped you out of it and made you take a shaky breath before you finally composed yourself. Your fingers trembled as they grazed the tips of the dolls ears again, your movements almost trance like as your whole body yearned for it to return onto his lips. Alastor's brows furrowed, lips pursed for a second as you drew a slow, sensual line up the miniatures length, stopping and softly kneading at the pointed tip.

"Good girl." he murmured, voice breathy, and for a second you could have sworn you saw his eye twitch, though his grin stayed firmly plastered onto his face. His words sent an instantaneous warmth pooling in your lower stomach, and your chest fluttered as you tried to swallow down the intense elation that shot through your veins at those words - the same words Alastor used when you mastered one of his magical exercises, and although the praise was always flattering, in this context it felt downright lewd and utterly divine to be called that. When your hand lowered a bit, massaging the base of the dolls ears, Alastor's noises became low growls and deep purrs around the wet skin his lips devoured. The black vines on your waist and legs tightened their grip as well, pushing you deeper down onto his mouth.

You hadn't even registered what happened, but with a snap your top was ripped in the front, the clasp of your bra followed, and the familiar humming sound of his static made you squeal in surprise when his voice was suddenly much louder, his tongue shoved into you as far as he could go and his shadows ripping your clothes off at lightning speed. With both hands stroking, massaging and pulling the dolls ears now, the pure pleasure hitting you was almost too much, but as much as your hands ached for the real thing, to run your nails over the red fluff and trace the soft curves and edges of the dark antlers growing on the sides of his head, all you could do was imagine, with all your fingers on the dolls soft material instead and moving furiously up and down its head, to do exactly the same thing.

Alastor growled underneath you, the sound deep and rumbling, sending vibrations through your trembling thighs and against your sensitive skin, and it sounded so much more desperate and disoriented than you had ever heard from him before. Had you been looking down, had you been able to see anything beyond the mind-shattering pleasure, the wide blown pupils and the unfocused gaze in the glowing red irises, you might have wondered why that was - Alastor's control was slipping, and his smile finally was showing that.

In an instant your body was turned and placed on your back, your limbs shaking in the grip of his shadows and body utterly at the mercy of the tall red man leaning over you and undoing his bow tie with the rapidity and precision of a professional magician. His hair had gotten a little ruffled in the process, and his red shirt hung open and wrinkled against his skin.

"A compelling exercise indeed, my dear." he spoke, the rasp in his tone and the ragged breath accentuating his words. With a swift movement his jacket joined the shirt and harness that already had been thrown onto the floor somewhere, and then the shadows were back and prodding against the soaked cloth, the only thing left around your hips. They snuck into every slit they could find, exposing more and more of you, while their owner's gaze hungrily devoured every bit of exposed skin. The stretchable fabric made for easy work, but you had the distinct feeling they wouldn't have needed it at all as the shadows literally dissolved every thread they encountered. Alastor reached for your replica again, seemingly collecting himself and catching his breath.

"You are quite talented, and it'll be a joy to discover what other marvels your mind can come up with." His claw dragged down over the dolls' hips, one set of real, the other set of simulated hands following it a millisecond after, right along your bare and barer sides, sending waves of anticipation down the inside of your thighs. In an instant, two very corporeal, long fingers were back between your folds, knuckle deep into your seeping core, and Alastor chuckled lowly at your surprised whine, the smug and devious purr rumbling in his chest as he took note of every twitch your body made to the tune of his strokes. "But I think it's about time to return the favor though, don't you agree?"

Still stroking that sweet spot inside of you with his fingers, the hand that held your puppet glowed in bright green, and in between your moans and pants your wide eyes can't tear themselves from the strange symbols that appear around it, swirling and sparkling. You've seen Alastor perform magic countless of times, have watched and marveled at every spell he cast and his flair for the dramatic was only matched by the elegance of his every motion. But this? This was something else. The nonchalance with which his fingers pumped in and out of you, working meticulously, tactically, teasing you and working you into a mess with such a proficiency while he traced symbols with his free hand and the script, the raw power of it, the surge you could feel radiating from him, all that and his unflinching composure drove you mad with both desire and fascination.

The light and the symbols faded, and in his hands - the puppet, similar yet not quite. It felt off, almost lifelike, the fabric more skin-like, and with a gasp, you saw..

"Let me now see, if my own little contribution can be counted as an improvement, my little witch."

If someone asked you later on what had actually happened, you couldn't have said a single word - it was too salacious, too outrageous, too much outside of what you had ever expected from Alastor. How could you ever recount the way he pulled his throbbing cock out with his free hand - thick, dripping with precum and inhumanly beautiful. How his fingers were guiding your tiny copy to align with its tip, while he never left your eyes, smile almost manic.

He made holes. And seconds later, when he slowly pushed the doll onto his length, with his fingers still buried deep inside you, you knew that they worked. Oh, and how they worked.

"Oh m-my... god..."

It was heaven and hell. Bliss and torture, the feeling abhorrently delicious. The magical connection allowed every ridge, vein and vibration of his cock to transfer perfectly through the dolls body to you, making you shudder and keen at the intensity, the sheer tightness, and simultaneously Alastor groaned - a broken, rugged sound, loud enough to make you glance up with misty eyes from your debauched position. Your insides clenched hard around his fingers and the ghost of his cock, your toes curling as you whimpered, a picture perfect representation of how utterly sinful he looked with his dark lashes resting on his red cheeks, eyes shut and the mouth agape as his chest was rising and falling, breaths coming hard and labored.

He noticed your raptured gaze, looking down at you through hooded eyes, his smile positively obscene.

"Mh, I like the way you pray on me instead of one of your silly deities, darling. But you can call me Alastor."

And oh, how it felt, when his hand closed tightly around the little voodoo doll that was stuffed so full of him. You arched your back and writhed against the firm hold the tentacles had on you, pressing your knees against the pillows as he pulled his drenched fingers out of you, bringing them up to his face to lick them clean. He groaned at the taste, closing his eyes and making an effort to concentrate, his control crumbling in tiny pebbles around you, and his hips started to snap, sheathing the miniature you further on his cock, thrusting in increasingly fast paced movements. A string of whimpers escaped you, his name spilling throughout them like a mantra, as you were unable to do much more but twitch, shake and tremble as his ministrations came faster, harder, and Alastor let his head fall back, baring his neck and swallowing.

"You're so-" He groaned, squeezing your dolls body, forcing it closer against him and sliding it off and back on at an excruciatingly slow pace, your moans climbing and escalating with every inch that moved through the magic veil and in and around your sopping center. "-goddamn perfect, perfectly made for me." Your body didn't know how to react anymore, you stuttered incoherently, everything full with his praise, with this cock that wasn't there but was, the heat that shouldn't have been possible to fill you but did. You felt every bit of skin and fur and sweat and the realization only dawned on you when it was already too late: That you were about to come harder than you ever did, and that Alastor was losing his mind just from watching your reactions to his assault on your doll.

"S-So tight and needy. What a perfect... little... toy you are." If they were meant for you below him or the doll in his hands - you didn't know. But the panted words and almost dirty, explicit praise spilled from his lips in a flurry, every syllable seemed strangely calculated, aimed like a dart straight into you and tearing down all defenses as your pussy twitched helplessly around the sensation of being stretched and fucked open on the image of his cock. When he chuckled and sank your doll to the base, grinding your little figure against him so the head of his cock poked and prodded you where it had never reached before, you all but screamed his name as you came, and your pathetic cries pulled a harsh string of groans and grunts out of the demon towering over you, his breathless cursing and rambled obscenities underlined by the vicious snaps of his hips as he used your simulacrum like a glorified sex toy. His nails pierced the outer layer of the doll as your walls constricted and contracted around the thick nothing as he finished you and himself off into the realm of oblivion.

Everything went white for a moment and when your senses returned, Alastor was carefully cradling you into his arms, the little replica sitting next to his own on your bedside table, their heads almost tenderly leaning on each other. He was gently raking his claws through your damp, disheveled hair, placing little kisses down the back of your neck and on the thin skin behind your ears as he mumbled silent praises against your skin. He kissed along your jaw, gentle as anything, a soft thumb grazing along your lips, cheeks and your temple as he traced the lines of your features until he found the pulse on your neck. The cold touch of his lips was a nice contrast to the hot breath, and you moaned softly at his affectionate gesture.

"It's never a disappointment with you, love, quite the contrary." He hummed, scraping his sharp teeth almost teasingly along the crook of your neck before kissing it, covering your skin with static electricity. "What a marvelous surprise you prepared for me, my dear, truly magical." His lips pressed into yours in a rare kiss, and you leaned back into his naked embrace and smiled, the giddy feeling of accomplishment spreading in your belly and mixing in beautifully with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"I'm glad... you liked it."

"Oh, that is hardly the phrase I would use," Alastor chuckled as he pulled back, making you blush as his red iris glowed dangerously. "But you, my dear, will have a little work to do, seeing as I'm positively spoiled after this gift. You have no idea of the things I'm thinking about, all the possibilities of what we can accomplish if we put both our minds – and magic - to it."

Alastor pulled you into a tight embrace, rubbing his chin and cheeks across your scalp and shoulders, coating you with a generous amount of his scent as if to mark you before pulling the blankets up and covering the two of you as his arms locked around you possessively, letting you settle against his chest as he hummed a melody you didn't know. But you knew him well enough to know that it was a clear sign of him being absolutely pleased and content.

You smiled, his good mood infectious, and as you glanced to the two dolls that sat together like a matching pair, stripped of their clothes and as close together as you and the real demon were now under the sheets, it made you feel like the cat that ate the canary. The cat had been fed by Alastor, sure. But he had also had his fill and then some, and really... that was all that mattered to you.

[familyagrestefanblog]

Sorry, I just need to get this off my chest.

You know what's shit?

That I always come back to work on my explanation posts on why Alya, Plagg, and Emonette being treated unfairly and being disregarded by Maribug's writing is by now pissing me off to similar degrees as her bad treatment of Chat Noir

But that always ends in a domino effect of me putting together more of the overall narrative that ticks me off so much cause my ADD brain can't NOT look for the continuous string of the writing pattern I follow once I'm at it.

You probably can imagine that this isn't very good for my mental health and the only reason why I'm still doing it is because I have a strong suspicion on what the new story arc will do with Cerise after this agonizing hiatus, and only once the actual new story arc proves me wrong can my ADD brain let this emotional investment of 7+ years in my "comfort show" since I was a 16 rest in peace.

Being neurodivergent is exhausting of FUCK...

So I always stop writing any of the posts about the other topics and come back to my Adrichat corner because that's the "safe space" my brain is the most familiar and comfortable with by now since season 4 to make a post AT ALL that isn't running the risk of leading me down 7 new rabbit holes I can't unsee anymore afterwards...

I MISS looking into several narrative threads in this show and voicing my opinions on them. In hindsight, I regret not having done it more when it was still possible, but I feel like it should have been alright in any other normally written show to have a fan blog dedicated to a specific part of the story. I feel like I shouldn't be the one in the WRONG for having done that.

Anyway, I honestly MISS the time where I knew that Maribug's benefit and comfort weren't the only things accepted as "valid" readings of the story. From both sides. Supporters and critics/salters.

Where saying anything that isn't immediately connected to Marinette's benefit and comfort didn't need a full-blown 20 page essay post going into any detail possible to fight for the right to even be taken seriously as a realistic reading of the story at all.

I know I'm not the only one upset at this, but I wonder how many people really realized by now how batshit insane this is right now. That only the most vanilla and vague-ass posts that do their best to not in anyway say something that would be "mean" and "non-validating" to Marinette can be posted now without it automatically being categorized as at least "critical" or running the risk of getting perceived as salt or wishful-thinking.

You can't point ANYTHING out anymore without at least one person running in and either saying "You just HATE Marinette and want to see her punished! You people never care about HERRRRRRRRRR (regarding a topic that isn't about her or is her fucking JOB as a narrative tool to DO)" or "Yeah, nah, the show would never let that happen because of the Marinette bias lol"

You can't even say anything anymore about Adrien's abuse without it being either undermined to all hell because of Marinette having been bullied and needing to be a girlboss who does to others what she's declared "tortured" for, or Félix "hypocrite and victim-blamer" Fathom. Gabriel being abusive was once the most basic ass thing to talk about, what the fuck happened?? (don't answer that, I know the answer...)

The whole analysis' side of this fandom that isn't catering to Marinette was either killed or basically exiled into the "critical" or outright "salt" tag because you can't even be interested in world-building anymore without having to fight for the post's right to be taken seriously under the crushing weight of Marinette's narrative benefits and comfort.

Because mademoiselle ain't fucking interested in ANYTHING lore wise beyond what's convenient for her (not to mention the retcons), so talking about the Guardian and Kwami lore for example counts as SALT now because it automatically implies for people that Marinette isn't all that matters and her flaws of not being interest in ANYTHING might actually COUNT as flaws she should work on. I know, the fucking HORROR! 😱

I MISS writing theories, analysis posts, and speculating about this shows future plots in even the most basic "set up and pay off" manner but I know I can't because my default approach is always complementary to the main character - meaning what challenges them and the narrative the most to grow, expand, and develop. This isn't a Marinette specific thing, I ALWAYS do this.

And contrary to popular belief in this fandom, I get by perfectly fine doing that for the majority of other pieces of media I consume. It is MIRACULOUS and this damn Fandom that now genuinely did it's best to convince themselves that this level of main character centric morality and revenge porn level writing is NORMAL when it's seriously NOT.

There is a REASON why this show hardly ever gets recommended on social media the way one would think despite its success. Or why the Fan backlash is so enormous despite a solid part of the Fandom already having left long ago and the young target demographic not uniformly having a voice in the social media discourse.

Or why people actively advise others AGAINST watching the show, AGAINST forming an emotional investment, and AGAINST going anywhere near the Fandom.

Cause no fucking shit, this isn't normal.

[mulberriesandtea]

Woe. LCE ramblings in thy inbox. Sorry about this

So first things first is the timing, given how it's a "regular" checkup this presumably is not the first time it's happened, though we lack details on any previous times. Plus that also depends on location, which I'll get to later.

But of all the things that could possibly lead to the need for a checkup there's a few things that come to mind: Don Quixote knowing she's a bloodfiend again, Dante's clock ticking forward, Hong Lu's upcoming canto, the fact canto 7 is essentially the halfway point (halfway if one thinks its a Sinner per canto and so 13 total, but just over half if you dont count Clock) in their journey, new bough, literally just a schedule. Personally I think it's because there's going to be a major change in a Sinner - Hong Lu - and so the company needs to have his stuff updated beforehand. Given the mention of how the Sinners match up to their pre contract selves I do think it's related to Dante's clock as well.

As for location, I think its somewhere in the corridor, or at least accessed from there. The backgrounds remind me of one of the doors, the MD one I think, and it does seem a secure place to do L corp cosplay in, but I dont understand the corridors enough to say more. If it is a proper location in the City they head to via door shenanigans, I'd wager its either in L corp or in one with major ties with whomever is running LC.

As for E.G.O. suits, they're a less refined version of Lobcorps ones, showing much more obvious abnormality traits but seem to be missing some sort of connection between suit and user - the one that usually allows for anyone to pick 'em up and use them fine given how Faust talks of flying and how she probably crashed the first time. But the lack of refinement is presumably because they either lack the techniques or material used by L corp, a likely result of how it seems they're reverse engineering them.

I've little to say on what we see of the tests themselves, though it mostly seems like combat testing, plus I could reasonably assume the general doctors appointment stuffs to make an appearance. The aesthetic of the PV, namely low poly not unlike an old video game, brings to mind the idea of a simulation of some kind, though I'd struggle to claim any further evidence to back that up. I do find the use of Peccatullum, including higher tier ones, interesting though. Given the first time we saw higher tiers of them was when the Sinners were first tasked with that monolith, something we know LC has had at least one in their custody (unless Hubert bought it with his time money) that they could use to create Peccatulla according to their need.

No need to be sorry! I liked reading what you had to say. Here's my responses:

This is the first time it's happened on screen; I believe the implication is that this is the first time it's happening on the bus. Considering that the ID cards that all the sinners have include eye tests and just in general how Dante brings up in Canto 2 that the sinners are weaker, I definitely agree they've had them before. Before the bus and before they met Dante.

I believe the 'data' mentioned at the end of the trailer includes Don Quixote remembering who she was. The rest of the sinners we don't know the backstories of yet? Well, we know Faust is a researcher, we know Outis was a military veteran, Meursault worked at NCorp but we don't know what sector, and that Ryoushuu was incredibly strong before her connection to Dante weakened her, and still has very heightened senses. With Hong Lu, he's from a rich and very turbelent family(to say the least). Knowing that, everyone else's memories are most likely intact, with their backgrounds, at the least. It was just Don Quixote and the fact she's a bloodfiend.

Another thing to note is Gregor's 'present' from Hermann. We really don't know much about that plot thread currently, and while we'll deal with that later, it's just as likely we might get some more hints about whatever it is.

I agree with the Hong Lu assessment! As you may know I believe in Two in One- 💥

I personally think that this is Limbus Company as a building itself. You can see the logo in the upper right corner of the battle stage's background hall! We'll probably arrive through the corridor, but I think there's a small chance Limbus might be situated somewhere around P Corp. Who knows, really, we'll just have to wait and see, we got less than a week :)

I think it's also because while they are not completely refined, the LCE EGO suits ALSO are less uniform than the LobCorp EGO suits: remember, the LobCorp EGO suits were very simple in their actual cuts, just being different in materials, color, and SOMETIMES the cut of the coat. Weapons could be utilized with either the hands or remotely, as is the case with Sound of a Star or Feather of Honor. Meanwhile, Yi Sang has the lure from FaeLantern and Faust has the wings. Faust distinctly also states that wings AREN'T part of the normal human form, and there's not really any LobCorp EGO suits or weapons that I can think of that augment the user like that. As such, the LCE EGOs probably need a different formula to the LobCorp suits, maybe even different formulas to each other. Basically, I think the heavier amount of abno traits are heavily desired by the LCE, versus LobCorp's uniformity.

The specific style is usually called 'ps1 graphics' but it is a very interesting style! I don't think it's a simulation in the way you seem to be implying, though. I imagine that 1 to 1 lengthy simulations of real life are banned by the head.

hubert.

oh one last thing i would like to mention about the combat testing.

WHY IS IT ALL PECCATULUM IRAE

THERE'S NO OTHER PECCATULUM IN THE TRAILER. IT'S JUST FUCKING PECCATULUM IRAE. WHY IS THERE SO MUCH WRATH IN THE PECCATULUM THEY HAVE.

[kalosian-woods]

speaking off the other electric type gym leaders, do you think clemont would know them? do you think the other members of the league knew about the crisis? do you think they wanted to do something to help? and if they do know each other, do you think post crisis some of them made a beeline to kalos?

and if your au also sets in the galar/kalos is part of the same island mass theory, do you think they heard what was happening and wanted to get involved or something? because... you know the sub-theory that the war was between Kalos and Galar

-⚡ (my personal headcanon is that they do know each other and that volkener and clem have a sorta petty rivalry between inventors. (siebold and clemont too. but thats more silly because professional chef working in a fine dining setting, vs a teenage who maybe sleeps in his own gym and probably lives off instant noodles when he isn't cooking for others.))

Hmm, for me, I would say he has a passing knowledge of them? Like that academy he went to probably covered some notable Type users and all that, and when he was fiddling around on the web for inspiration/appliances/going on the Pokemon equivalent of eBay and checking out antiques, he's seen their name around. Similarly, Gym Leaders from other regions would've heard of Clemont (moreso as the rising young Gym Leader who's also a great inventor) and were like 'cool, what an inspiration to young folk everywhere' and proceed to forget about him. Clemont isn't very sociable, and while he was enamoured by the stuff other Gym Leaders, especially Electric Type users, would've done (like amusement park by Elesa or whatever zany thing Volkner made up on the spot), he was much too shy about it. Easier to just reverse-engineer it and figure out how it ticks from the safety of his own (totally not safe for his back) room. And then he had his problem with the Gym and you know the drill.

It's most probably after the whole journey that he mustered the courage to talk to the others and connect with the other Gym Leaders all around the world heh. Throughout the journey he became more aware of the Gym Leaders in Kalos and actually got to know them well (and through the Crisis everyone got to know each other better), and that kickstarted Clemont's desire to see how everyone else was like.

Surge would be a bit dismissive until he heard about the Crisis and Clemont's role in it (he would totally break down at that and just care for him so much, I can tell you that). Very tough love but also a great listener, makes sure that he's keeping well and not getting too lost in his work.

Wattson is just going to be a crazy grampa in the corner isn't he lol. But yeah, very much going to push him into 'renovating' Prism Tower into a death trap (but a fun one!) and telling him to have fun (he knows about the Crisis and this is his way of helping him, but to be honest he would've said this regardless). May or may not have a rivalry with Volkner, in which...

Volkner is just a little (a very tiny miniscule) impressed by Clemont. But would not say it. He expects so much more than that, don't you know, that's just childs play and if he was really into it he would've done so much more. They both have petty squabbles but then five minutes later they are dragged away by their Luxray from taking down particle colliders or smth idk.

Elesa had a very superficial relationship with him before, having met through friends-of-a-friend kind of deal. They make small talk, try to connect, and then after some time one of them admit something deep and then boom, penpals lol. She bugs him for good fashion in Kalos and he gets her back by requesting schematics of various mechanical attractions in Unova. Basically trading for their interests while also having some support on the side :3

Sophocles is totally roasting him online the first time they meet. They both get into this thread where they argue about something that they totally forgotten and just go on and on until they actually meet face to face. It's a love-hate relationship with collabs and everything, and they will simmer down one day. Eventually. Hopefully. (Soph has heard of the Crisis and done so much study but has not connected two and two and two together with Clem and also with a certain Ash having just come out from there. He's busy, okay?)

Iono scares him but he doesn't say it outloud. Very interesting with the whole livestream! Just not being on the livestream. He's also interested in those Magnemite hairclips and the concept of Terastallization but maybe he better make sure he's not broadcasted on 10 million screens before talking to her.

Going to be honest here and say that's the first time I've ever heard of that theory myself, but then again I haven't dived too deeply about it. Most of the ones I've saw were about how Kalos had an internal war (this is a great one btw heh), which made sense to me, although I do like the idea of Galar going up against Kalos (especially with the gimmicks and the problems they faced). Hoenn is definitely connected to the Crisis itself and has offered aid, and ngl I feel like most of the regions are nice enough to try to help at this point, since either they went through their own problems beforehand or have that feeling of foreboding that they are next. The Pokemon World is very idealistic in that sense! People do tend to travel around, so there are a lot of connections all over the world.

[dilfdoctordoom]

It’s really frustrating how Gamora wasn’t given proper nuance in the first two movies because then vol 3 might’ve been less frustrating. If her issues had been explored in depth (in vol 2 especially) her being feral for 90% of the film would’ve been interesting enough on its own, but because the first two films focus so heavily on Quill and the third on Rocket we don’t get enough time with either version of Gamora to see what makes her tick.

Ooooh boy I've got a lot to say on this.

The personality that Gamora has in Vol 3 is one that we have seen before... in the deleted scenes of Vol 1. Since those never made it to the final cut, the majority haven't seen them, don't know they exist, and I wouldn't count them as canon.

It makes her Vol 3 personality jarring, to say the least, which is an in issue. Vol 3 Gamora is the first time MCU Gamora has been anything really like her comic counterpart. Gamora's... very sharp, very volatile and doesn't tend to be the nicest person in the room. Gamora in Vol 1 & 2 was put into the "team mom" role which really isn't a place she should ever hold. At best, it should be like Infinity Watch, where she just thinks she holds it because she's decided she's the most responsible when in reality. she's fucking crazy.

Vol 3 also doesn't fit the established beat of the past two films; Peter is our clear protagonist, Rocket is the secret protagonist, and Gamora is the female protagonist. She gets things moving. It's her thoughts, her wants, that ultimately drive the films forward. She wants to save Xandar, she wants to escape Thanos, and it's those two things that push the first film forward. It's her want for familial connection (that she finds with Nebula eventually) that leads her to encourage Peter to go with Ego; if she hadn't been looking for that herself, I doubt she would've ever told him to go.

It also drops the sister dynamic between Gamora and Nebula, literally the one thread that links the Guardians appearances consistently through Vol 1 right over to Endgame. It's the beating heart of it all and shown time and time again to be important and then.... nothing. Vol 3 doesn't dare address that they've both lost the only sister they've known and what stands before them is essentially a stranger. It doesn't address that both of them know there's a version of them that is dead and has lost their future (and they both know that the future that version of them lost was a GOOD one). There's so much to work with, and it never gets picked up on at all.

Gamora's the moral center of the team, it's beating heart. She's always been the driving force of the plot, even in Infinity War, and she's central to most of the Guardians appearances in Endgame.

In Vol 3, she's there, I guess.

And even back then, even when she's so important to the films... like all women in the GOTG franchise, she's not nearly as delved into as the men. Don't get me wrong, she's a hell of a step up from Mantis, but... it's not as much as it should be.

It's an issue that feels especially because, as much as I adore Rocket & how well done his side of things was, Volume 3 needed to be Gamora's movie.

How Infinity War left her was bad. How Endgame left her was also bad. How Volume 3 chose to present her was worse.

This movie needed to have at least some focus on fixing what went wrong but we somehow ended up with Cosmo & Kraglin getting more development & Yondu getting better treatment than dead Gamora.

I get that Rocket is Gunn's favorite and Gamora is not, but honestly? Not a good enough excuse.

A woman of color got violently fridged to make her abuser more sympathetic. Something needed to be done to fix that and that was sacrificed to... further a raccoon's story & downplay the abuse of two major women (Gamora&Nebula) in this franchise. I don't care how much Gunn loves Rocket, he should've done every damn woman in the franchise better.

[thevindicativevordan]

Comics this week, especially Wonder Woman's relaunch under Tom King ?

Wonder Woman #1 -

Wondersisters we're fucking back! Fantastic first issue from King and Sampere. It's a very tight compressed read, King wants to make the reader feel as blindsided by how quick everything goes to hell as Diana no doubt does. Sovereign looks like the King Washington from AC3, and I love his design. Connecting him to WW through the lasso mythology is a great concept. Despite the lasso being her iconic weapon, we really don't know a lot about it. King wants to write Superman so bad he gave Wonder Woman her own bald evil genius/mastermind to fight. Seeing Sarge Steel kill an Amazon in front of her own wife and child is a hell of a way to set the stakes. Some people were upset about that, but WW has needed to increase the feeling of danger in her books for a while now, and this accomplished that. Themsyacria itself isn't in danger, but Wonder Woman's mission in Man's World is, and that's a set up that works for me.

Love how Diana casts a huge shadow despite it being a while before she actually appears on page. We see King have her do all the actions you'd expect and then King shoots them all down as ineffective. God I love that scene where she sends her sword back to Nubia because she doesn't want to be tempted, sells the hell out of her being furious. And her dressing down of Sarge Steel? Peak Wonder Woman right there.

Steve is in a potentially very interesting place. Usually he's just Diana's wholesome and supportive boyfriend, this is a chance to put the screws to him and find out what makes him tick. He swore an oath and is technically committing treason by helping Diana, which he points out, but he still helps her all the same. Now I get we don't want to focus too much on a man in a WW book, but as her most important male supporting character, I argue that Steve needs fleshing out to bring him up to the level Lois and Selina are at.

My only qualm is I wish we get a page dedicated to the reaction of the other Wondy Rogues at this new player making moves. What does Circe or Cheetah or Cale make of this? Grail is going to show up, what's her angle? Definitely could see Psycho jumping for joy. While I doubt Sovereign can actually be Wondy's arch, I do like him as this new major player who upends Wondy's status quo, and I want to see where the other Wondy Rogues fit into his plans.

Superman #6 - Quick read but at least next issue is the oversized one. Livewire remains an ass despite working at the Daily Planet and that makes me deliriously happy. Having her as the anti-Superman voice at the Planet is a great gag, hell you could even have her livestream her fights with Supes to boost the DP's sales as a way to profit from being a villain even when she loses. AI Lex insisting on calling Superman "son" remains hilarious, Clark is clearly fed up with Lex's bullshit. The Chained seems to be a powerful telekinetic, was hoping for a more creative powerset, but at least he has hair. Saw that reference to Master Jailer helping Lex build the prison that held Chained, please let that be a tease for Jailer to make his return soon.

World's Finest #19 - Meh. Far as first meetings between Superman and Batman go, this one is down near the bottom. Jax is every bit as boring as I thought he would be, and Waid just pays lip service at the end towards the idea of Batman not trusting Superman. More fuel for the speculation that Waid is taking over Action with "Aethyr" showing up. What a boring look and design, not at all the Lovecraftian god in the vein of Gerber that PKJ had been building up. If Waid is really taking Action I have zero hope he delivers a satisfying conclusion to whatever plot threads PKJ himself doesn't wrap up. Waid is simply too stuck in the Silver Age. Let's hope Kingdom Come gives this book the shot in the arm it needs.

Nightwing #106 - Without Redondo the book's paper thin nature is front and center. Still, far as continuity goes, this does use the Ric era in a good way. Taylor of all people being the one to do something interesting with that time period surprises me.

Green Lantern: War Journal #1 - My grandma has dementia and I teared up at that scene where John makes a construct of his sister for his mother who has it. Caring for relatives with dementia is just trying to keep them happy even when it breaks your heart. If PKJ is really losing Action, at least here he can continue the United Planets plot threads with Thaaros. John put that fraud GL in his place and it was badass. If the Radiant Queen can body hop, maybe the people who speculated she's an alternate version of Katma are right and the body she's been in isn't her original.

Vigil #5 - It's good! Castle is more than a little shit.

Loki #4 - Damn good mini that I can only assume is being totally ignored by Ewing given the ending has Loki seemingly embracing his status as the God of Lies again. Or is that actually setting up Ewing Loki, who is openly apologetic about how he's going to fuck over Thor if it makes for a good tale in Immortal Thor? Watters needs to get more work.

Captain America #1 - Solid character beats and interactions, but it lacks a big "hook" as it were to keep me reading. I am amused to see JMS' big return to Marvel monthlies involves someone trying to make a deal with the devil.

[martinbackhausen-webdev]

Kicking Off My Blockchain and Crypto Adventure

Hey there, tech enthusiasts! I’m a web developer who’s spent years coding websites, but I’ve always been curious about blockchain and cryptocurrencies. Last week, I finally took the plunge, and wow, it’s like stepping into a new universe! I’m starting this blog to share my journey, from total newbie to (hopefully) crypto-savvy coder. My goal is to keep it real, break things down simply, and help you jump into crypto without feeling overwhelmed. Here’s what I learned in my first week, plus some tips to kickstart your own adventure.

 Why Blockchain Got Me Hooked

As a coder, I’m all about tech that pushes boundaries, and blockchain is the real deal. It’s like a digital ledger that records every crypto transaction in a way nobody can mess with. Imagine a Google Doc that’s public, secure, and unchangeable—that’s the vibe. Bitcoin and Ethereum run on this, and the idea that I could build apps on it blew my mind. I spent a late night watching YouTube videos to get the basics, and I was hooked. I kept thinking, “How does this even work?” but the more I learned, the more it clicked. If you’re new, don’t stress about the jargon—it’s just a fancy way to keep things transparent and safe.

Tip: Start with a short “What is blockchain?” video on YouTube. Pick one under 10 minutes to keep it bite-sized and fun.

 Setting Up My First Crypto Wallet

I wanted to dive into cryptocurrencies, so I set up a wallet—a digital spot to store your crypto, like a bank account you control. I went with MetaMask, a browser extension that’s super beginner-friendly. Downloading it was easy, but I got nervous about security. You get a “seed phrase,” a 12-word code that’s your wallet’s master key. If you lose it or someone steals it, your crypto’s gone. I wrote mine on paper and hid it in a safe place, not my laptop. I also double-checked the MetaMask website to avoid scams—fake sites are out there, ready to trick newbies. Then, I tested it with a tiny bit of Ethereum, and seeing it in my wallet was so cool! It felt like I’d just unlocked a new level in a game.

Tip: Always verify a wallet’s official URL before downloading. If it looks fishy, it’s probably a scam.

 Navigating the Crypto Hype

The crypto world is loud—Twitter, TikTok, and forums are buzzing with “buy this coin!” vibes. I got sucked into a hype thread about a “moon coin” before realizing it was mostly noise. To stay focused, I picked a few trusted sources like CoinDesk and the Ethereum Foundation’s blog. I also joined a Discord group for crypto beginners, where folks share real tips, not just hype. It’s helping me learn without chasing every shiny promise. I spent an evening sorting through my bookmarks, and it felt good to have a plan. The key? Take it slow and stick to what makes sense.

Tip: Follow 2–3 reliable crypto websites or creators to cut through the noise. Ignore random “hot tips” for now.

 What’s Next for Me

This week was like opening a treasure map—I’m thrilled to explore more. Next, I’m digging into Bitcoin and Ethereum to understand what makes them tick. I’ll also try a small transaction with my wallet to get comfy. Crypto can feel like a lot, but it’s okay to learn bit by bit. If you’re curious, join me! Start with one video or article, and you’ll be amazed at what clicks. Got questions or tips? Drop them in the comments—I’d love to connect!

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Threads

[inlovelanglang]

appreciation post/thread to the people ive met last year (2024) that have altered my brain chemistry, in the best way possible.

------ wipro -----

SHEILA - 1 of 2 first ever friend/s to kick off 2024 that made me believe i had every right to have someone to rely on when things get rocky, never failed to show up and be present, and has always been and will continue to be one of the strongest people i know, especially having dealt with so much shit last year. proof that betrayal can not only give pain but also do u wonders.

ANNE - 2 of 2 first ever friend/s, legit one of the kindest people i know. she always never truly judges anyone based on their actions and hundred percent knows that life is never black and white. tries her best to understand anyone coming from any pov, which is astounding, cuz people u know from the get-go are never like that. someone with a heart that always chooses to be kind despite everything, should never ever be tossed around so easily &that's why I will always believe she deserves more

JAMSY - such an unexpected friendship that have grown deeper than what anyone could have thought of. initially was just bouts of laughter every work day, agreeing with the most nonsensical little details in life. now, it has come to so much connection, similar to a sisterhood, that i have never experienced in my life. eternally grateful for it and would definitely ride or die for her. the type of person that despite all the pain life has given her, she still chooses to deal with it with a smile.

ATE CATH - despite the shortest time we had spent together, she really opened me up that even tho people are different, it never means that anyone who has ever seen you is going to say negative comments out of pure hatred or jealousy, it can come from a place of genuine concern & a heart for you to deal with it in a much better sense. tough love can still be love, even if everyone's not used to it. it really made me see life as just a means of dealing with it as it is & not sugarcoating anything

MISAEL - i've always wanted a very close gay friend for the most part of my life. not only cuz they're zesty and just the epitome of so much confidence, but also cuz they have the most passion to love. but at that point where i knew misael, it didnt even matter to me that he ticked all the boxes of my friendship bucket list, what mattered the most to me was his kindness and authenticity that just made sense. to think he had such a family bg that allowed him to be who he was, just shows he's more than just a friend but also someone u can count on.

BEA - we've grown to be close at such a later stage and we have never really expected that we'd have so much similarities in our life. we both had relationships that sometimes, we would stress over on, and i guess, that's what sparked our interest in each other which then pointed later on as a means of going to work to just talk about how our lives were and how we deal with it. it made me see that differences is what drives connection.

(sadly, we dont have pictures together 😔)

----- ibex -----

SIBAYAN - my love from the very first start of training. i just know she was more than what she shows to people and more than what she thinks of herself. fucking deserves the world and i mean it from the bottom of my heart. it sucks how she allows people to treat her negatively when she's worth more than those people. gosh, i cant describe how she's literally the full package. and i hate when people base her value on the way she appears cuz the reality of it is, anyone who has ever said shitty things to her can't even amount to what she truly is. i have so much passion for this person. and i fucking pray to god she sees that eventually in herself that she is more than what people see of her.

RUELLA - thought she was the most unapproachable person, at first, but me and sibayan both would look back and just laugh once we got to know this person. even tho she has a demeanor that would make anyone hesitate to go near her, she's literally the most down to earth person. ever. she sincerely takes care of anyone who's going through anything. even tho she pokes fun at me for being too pityful to other people, she literally has that trait too, and acts more on it than anyone ever has. she's direct and also kind, which feels contradicting, but it would just make sense, when it's her. and her love for anyone she's close with just tops the notch, i can't even desribe how much passion she has in her heart. cuz despite her size, she loves more that she can carry, and i will forever be indebted to her for her kindness.

RHEM - has always been lowkey but has never shown anything less. it's funny cuz i will never say these things to him.he's the kind of guy that i believe, doesn't want to talk about the heavy stuff, but i know that he cares for it as much as the next passionate person does. multilayered, for sure, but will do his best not to stand out, even though he naturally does. always admired how he deals with everything, and have grown to appreciate his easygoing attitude despite my tendency on not to be.

MISS IRICA - can get angry easily but she makes up so much of it by giving back more than what is expected of anyone. i have never believed her anger issues to be anything less than her worth cuz the truth of the matter for anyone who does have heightened emotions is that they have the intensity that i know, only shallow people cannot bear. anyone who has the right mind just know they love deeply and give all that they can to anyone who matters to them. it proves too much is just right.

TM TY - not only is he knowledgeable in work but his mindset in life is very much in the right place. he knows how to deal with almost anything but what i very much appreciate in him is despite with the work ethic that he has and his every right to sound superior in the work place, he has a heart no one can ever fill. some people have a heart to understand where a person is coming from, but TM Ty just knows deeply why a person is acting a certain way. and for that, i truly appreciate not only his understanding and kindness to people but his brain for comprehending what most cannot.

KUYA ANIMAS - funniest person i know but also the most experienced in everything. gives him so much street smarts that even when he's just joking around, there's so much depth within each joke that makes you think deeper in life. i know he would just laugh at everything, particularly this statement about him, but i know how sentimental he can get with people. and how he will do anything in his power to put other people first, despite having the same kind of pain that the other person is dealing with. shows nobody's ever surface level.

ATE JENESSA - first trans friend but i know they're more than just what is labeled of them. she's literally my idol when it comes to everything sexual. doesn't make her any less of a person at all, just because of her experiences. to have that kind of knowledge and apply it is just a skill that i forever will miss out on but wholeheartedly applaud people of. not only is she defined by that skill only, cuz she also has a heart to care for other people and has never failed to make other people laugh with that same heart.

GEORGE BOB - countering jokes here and there but is actually way smarter than what he shows to people. me, sibayan and ruella both believe in him as the guy with the most green flags, even when people might tend to focus on his "negative" side which, for us, doesnt define what he truly is. people have no idea how smart he can get, especially when he can get very absent minded, but anyone who has the right mindset can see beyond this exterior that he's showing. props to him, cuz i know not all guys think the way he does.

JOVAN - old friend but i'll add him on to this list cuz i've grown to appreciate him more in 2024. even if he's just buzzing with energy and jolly most of the time, he checks in on me from time to time if i get a bit down. people in general never do that. i know he is the type of person to show sentiments and care with a proud face and that will always be what i aspire to be in whatever i do. to show sincerity in the midst of mediocrity. i know he will set an example to his future baby girl and hundred percent believe he will make a great father.

_____________________________

so that's all for the list! here's to more friendships and realisations in life in 2025 <3

[jonathankatwhatever]

I can apparently now use Notes for more things, but I don’t know what may be useful for me. It’s 25 Nov 2024, and I’m sitting on my porch in the silver sunshine listening to the waves of traffic fly by on 87, which I can see through the leafless trees. I sometimes wish I could always write in such a measured cadence. It’s calm and accepting. Like the way it felt this morning, when I was transported by the most vivid cross-identity expressions I’ve yet experienced. Pause to let that sit because that statement carries a lot of weight, which means it displaces many threads, setting them in motion, like the way Magie Noir would burst through the door as I opened it for him. He would scout the scene first, call me over with a look, then he’d circle all the way around to the back of the room, emerging at the far end of the kitchen, then toward the door, picking up speed to the sight of my hand and posture ready then pulling on the door, timed so he’d be a blur through the doorway itself, and in a flash he’d be in the midst of the birds and squirrels before they could react, causing chaos, and stirring extreme stimulation. He packed a lot into those 12 years.

It was that vivid this morning. Vivid cross-identification.

The image I really need to describe is of leaves growing on a stalk. Let’s say you are a stalk and you have leaves. The model is that you grow, rise along the leader of your potential, and that you leaf as you go, with each leaf being an expression of the energy you had then, healthy or not, nourished or not, with the vigor of you continuing.

Example is that I’m at an age when most peoples’ energy is seriously depleted, while mine is growing. Most people are struggling against decrepitness, while I’m working on stuff I could not do when I was younger, rediscovering abilities so deep in the physical past they’re barely recognizable. Example is the compression work, which I see as 0-1-0 and 1-0-1 squeezing, squeezing of self, making one’s self into the total focus of that pure compressive movement, applying that physically and mentally in union. Now visualize that with identities crossed. The words which came with this were beautiful because the Storylines this Attached and thus made accessible were beautiful too. Beaucoup fits. The idealization of beauty is not too much but what is there seen and enacted in its best light.

This came up in Storyline in which J’s relationships finally became understandable: she literally says that she has a mother and she chooses to be in the Storylines which have happy endings, so she chooses to act in the ways that have happy endings. When asked if this is love, she says she doesn’t see the difference, that love is a label for how one chooses to see another and how one chooses to be with another. She then says I love to move because movement allows me to express physically what I am thinking and to think about what I am doing physically. Those join together, they meet, when the movement is correct.

I have to leave soon to run errands and to workout in the dim hall of weighted machines. What would it take to turn that work into power? Set aside free weights, each lifting and dropping can be measured, but that is power expenditure, while needed is a physical connection which generates electricity from a machine to a battery. That is the secret of perpetual motion: you power it with something not the machine, and that abstraction reduces to actual powering by water, wind, sun, nuclear reactions, etc.

So the binding at the proton level is 3:1 SBE, right? Back up: we did this many times, though it was a long time ago. Relax and let it come to you. Begin with elementary charge: that’s 2T, and that comes out of amperes, which makes that point because these are all per time and means how much fits into the counting system which conveys information, meaning within the IL and to the IL. That’s the issue with the second that we spent so much time on: it’s the tick-tick-tick or what we called tick-tock before the social media app, where the first form is counting and the second is the inherent tock which allows SBE to become SBE2, meaning back to you or from the other perspective. And that forms whether you count there or not, meaning any time one counts to you, that is the same as if that 1 counts tick-tick to you and tick-tock to and from you. Being on the same wavelength.

I was thinking about that earlier. I’d like to be able to highlight by sentence, and that could be done by expanding the repertoire of clicks. Like double click to word, double click to sentence. That enables sentences like triple click to paragraph, double click to some other meaning like next paragraph with up or down arrow. Add some more commands and you can move stuff, etc. If you build the idea properly, then you can really manipulate the text with just taps and movement commands.

I wonder how to generate a search or story that way other than by random until you happen to hit enough to connect pieces. Say you need to be above letters: need to enter an address for each word, or rather for each process to generate words, which isn’t much because you have language rules for what can be formed as words. Then you define a process which identifies possible combinations related to each letter placed at each position, according to the rules as filters, and that assigns locations or pathways to reach any location, even new ones, because you can then instruct it to say something which it has not previously constructed.

This is address and thus gsProcess based. Not sure why this is coming out, but it seems related to a question which has been occurring about AI, which is how to get it to learn, which requires it retaining what it learns in questions without becoming captive to them, which is maintaining Observer versus Actor. You can say bad answers and hallucinatory answers are where the systems become Actor, meaning it presents as Observer but it’s really acting out an answer, which makes it Actor. Observer is harder to define.

To get back to the physical, the elementary charge is 2T, so why then is the down quark -⅓? Direction. But in projection is that literally 2gs and 1gs? Oh, this is interesting: the idea is that 2gs and 1gs is exactly correct but in each consideration. It’s easier to see in the neutron: 2 of the downs are each of the 1’s left when you pick the 2gs. Then the up is the pick of either. That’s clearly correct: it follows all the rules of IC analysis in which the 1gs is the leftover, the Not of the IS of the 2gs. What that means for identity is awesome: you can see it construct existentially using our concepts, which is pretty amazing.

Look at it as we have done before. We have f1-3, with 1 becoming the 3 and the 3 becoming the 1, so the ⅔ is 2gs and the ⅓ is 1gs and the negative is relative to the 0 which defines the 2, which also means with some subtlety that you can see f1-3 become 2:1 within the 3gs of the 3 part of the f1-3 function. That means the growth of 1 by SBE, and the confinement or identification the other way into 1, shifts into the SBE itself, into the 3 which identify to the 1, and within that 3 it becomes 2:1 and thus 1:2.

I’m remembering that in the ideal an up can become a down and vice versa (through weak nuclear force), though I’m more concerned with what generates each: as long as that link between exists, that proves a connection to that Triangular generation.

This is why we get charge 1 and 0. Never made it this far before. I’m assuming this is part of the process by which iObject driven union occurs, because we’re now discussing fundamentals of the physical with greater ease.

[crimsoncadaver]

Sometimes, I wish life was more succinct. More compact, that you could wrap up eras of your life with neat little bows and think, "Yeah, I think that ended okay." I wish life was in segments, that when you looked back it would be like recounting a TV show spanning several seasons. Instead, life is made of thread. It's constantly being spun into a tapestry that we may never understand. Every action predetermines the next in a way that you can't predict. You can wallow in the present and try to grasp the thread that is your life, but you'll never be able to because it's so tangled between itself and the threads of others. Even if you could grasp it, it wouldn't tell you anything about the future. It's just thread. It doesn't have the inscription of your life written in a way that you could conceptualize. Trying to unravel the past can lead to more tangles in the present. Trying to predict the future only serves to make you feel trapped in whatever moment you're in. And no matter what you want to do or how you want things to work, time moves forward. Even as I'm typing this, the seconds tick by, disappearing beneath me, my thread growing longer telling a new story that I'll never get to read. My thread grows and gets woven into a tapestry I cannot see, that I don't even know if I'd want to. I wonder what the tapestry looks like. Does it look like a galaxy? When we look into the sky, is the tapestry of our lives gazing back? Do humans think our souls turn to stars because the galaxy is one of the most magnificent things we're able to grasp? That we're able to see? Maybe our tapestry is made of so many colors that the human eye wouldn't even be able to perceive them. Maybe our tapestry is made of music, every thread, and every story, a new note or instrument being added to a symphony lurking in the background of our lives. Connecting us in ways we don't realize or don't expect. I think I'd like that. I'd like it if my thread of life played a part in the musical of the universe surrounding us. I don't know. I wish life was in segments that were easier to digest. That wouldn't cause so much disruption in the present. Wouldn't cause so much fear about the future. Could be wrapped up in neat little bows, and that I could say, "Yeah. I think that ended okay."

[winteringthesnow]

The Red String of Fate - Sun Wukong

We’ve all heard the legend of the red string of fate. In the Chinese myth, an invisible red string is tied around the ankles of everyone. Two people connected by a thread, who are destined to be lovers. It may stretch, it may tangle but never break.

In this drabble, fate works in numerous ways with different people. Today, you will embark on an encounter with the great Sun Wukong. 

I had fun writing this and I might consider making this as a soulmate au drabble series with other characters

Gender Neutral reader

Sun Wukong hated it. There he was in front of a river in Flower Fruit Mountain, he rested with his tail swinging behind him. Watching the stream as his reflection stared back at him. He hated having to see it every time he looked in his reflection. A reminder of his troubles. A clock. A stupid ticking clock emblem on his neck. A countdown to be specific. The countdown used to be an hourglass but slowly as civilization changed, the little tattoo altered into a miniature clock along with it. It was said that a countdown would be placed on the right corner of your neck and the moment the clock ran out would be the moment he would meet the love of his life. Oh, What utter bullshit, he thought. 

Although he wasn’t one for cheesy romances, he’d always been teased about it by his fellow generals who would tease him about it, but he knew better than to fight with them since he'd get wrecked. So, he’d laugh it off along with them. His spiteful self wanted to say that love is pointless and useless. He knew firsthand what attachments lead to. He knew what would happen if he got close. He doesn’t plan on it, might as well not expect it. He’s supposedly used to being alone. He should be used to it, especially what happened thousands of years ago with his fellow brothers and master.  He didn’t want to admit it, this is what he had wanted ever since he was forced to join the west. He should be content where he is, back at flower fruit mountain with his monkeys. That's what he wants to say anyways. That is what he would say. 

But it would be a lie if he didn’t envy, even the slightest bit when he saw humans that he knew nothing of, meeting their beloved and that his own monkeys were able to find mates of their own. Don’t get him wrong, he's happy for them, truly. But the thoughts don't stop themselves from engrossing his mind. Making him wonder what it would be like if he found one of his own, of having someone that's meant just for him, to love him despite all of the flaws that have always held him back from connecting to others before. 

Yet, that stupid clock just somehow always shoved it in his ass that it was just mere fiction. It felt like the Buddha himself cursed him and this was surprisingly worse than being trapped under a mountain, or being cooked alive in the furnace and he hated that. He hated that in some way it did feel worse than being trapped under a mountain. The one thing he despised that ever happened to him. 

Lord, if his clock can’t function how it’s supposed to then what is the point? If the stupid timer couldn't decide when it’ll finally stop, especially when each second the numbers keep shifting and as a blue hue illuminated around his neck.  If every hour and, every minute and, every second, changing and changing as random numbers would appear on his neck before switching to a new one, then what is the point? He didn’t know how or why but maybe this was a way to pay for the crimes of his past, maybe he has to live with this forever, maybe this was his fate. 

Truth is, he never knew love. He never knew how to love. He never had an ounce of experience and the ones that he did care for were lost and he’ll never know. So, what’s the point in trying? What’s the point in hoping, if fate already decided for him? Might as well start getting comfy while he can. 

The great sage summons his cloud and hops onto it. In a blink of an eye, he immediately zooms out of sight from his little monkeys. The wind muffles his hearing as his hair flows behind him. In only less than a minute he had already arrived at his destination, his sacred temple. With a little entrance, a fog of dust surrounds him due to the impact on the ground. His little monkeys crawl at the sight of their king and cheer for him with coos and chirps. 

"Hey, guys" He waves, but a few run to his shoulder while others jump in front of him, frantically fluttering their paws, chittering all at once making it hard for him to understand "Whoa, whoa! One at a time"

Before any of them could explain further, troops carried someone with rope wrapped around their frame. There you were, a tired look on your face and a peach gaging your mouth, preventing you from speaking. Some monkeys climb onto your shoulder and start to mess with your hair, looking for something in particular.

The golden simian blinks a few times before looking at his monkeys. "Who is this exactly?" He looks at the ones on his shoulders. They chirp at him, explaining what happened an hour or so ago.

"So they broke in?" He mumbles before looking at you. In your slouched position, you notice his stare before straightening your back a bit. His stare wasn't deadly but it was a stare that you couldn't really decipher. Nonetheless, it made your stomach squirm and prepare yourself for the lecture you expect him to make. 

With his tail, he takes out the peach from your mouth as saliva glistens and seeps through your lips,  to which you immediately wipe with your shoulder. He let the peach drop to the ground and wipe his tail on his pants. You saw some monkeys running, fighting over the fruit. 

Your attention is brought back to the simian now crouched in front of you, close and personal. You look up and down at him and notice a peach-colored marking around his eyes, from his eyebrows to the tip of his nose. You lean back to get some space of your own as he sniffs you. 

"Umm, Hi? Sorry, do you live here?  I'm so sorry I didn't know and Uhh..."

"Do you not know who I am?" He steps back a bit but is still fairly close with one brown raise.

You blink a few times, cringing at the question "Am I supposed to...? I mean I've never met you before... I think"

He audibly gasps and seems baffled at the response "I am the almighty great sage equal to heaven, Sun Wukong! Have you not heard of me and my great quest, journeys, and battles??" 

You could only smile awkwardly. He purses his lips at you and furrows his brows while crossing his arms 

"Hmph. Where did you come from? And how did you get here?" He interrogates.

You look away to try to remember what exactly happened "Uh, Ok. Um, I guess I could owe you an explanation. I live in a village nearby. I mean not really since my grandpa lives there, not me. But I visited and strolled around. Then I saw this place and I was like 'Imma check it out and I thought no one lived here so~ I just let myself in..." you rambled, thinking a bit if you missed anything that you could add. 

You could almost confirm that there is nothing to add until you notice some monkeys not far ahead playing with your phone. "Hey! Be careful with that!" You call but the only response is them sticking out their tongues. 

You groan and purse your lips a little bit. 

"What were you doing here?" He asks again. The monkeys hand the phone to him,  which he only observes (not knowing how it works) 

"I just took some of the pictures, that's it. I didn't take or steal anything"

The sage eyes you suspiciously at the mention of the last part, to which he only glances at his monkeys for any confirmation. They chirp back while you look at them awkwardly, sweating a little. After their little talk, he side-eyes you and squints his eyes, trying to observe you. 

He stands up with his arms crossed. "Hmm, If that's the case then I guess I won't be giving you your phone then"

You look at him with wide eyes at the announcement. "What?! Why- why not??"

"Because one! You took pictures of this place and I can't have people knowing about it” 

“I didn't take that many!” 

“Two!,” He interrupts “You don't know me and that is a great offense to the great Sun Wukong” 

“How is that a great offense if you don’t even want people to know you” 

“Three!” He interrupts again, his words a lot harsher than intended but immediately replace with a calmer tone “You stole my chips"

"It was already open, I couldn't just let it go to waste"

"You still ate it nonetheless, so in my book that's considered stealing"

"But-" A tail props up on your mouth, interrupting you. You flinch back and spit out a few that cascade in your mouth. But before you could even finish a completely new fruit is shoved into your mouth again. 

"No more talking" 

You deadpan, this time you spit out the fruit and struggle at the hold of the rope. "Ugh, can you get out of this rope" 

"No"

"Oh come on, please"

"Hmmm. I don't know" He places a hand under his chin as if to say that he was thinking when clearly he wasn't and there wasn't a single brain cell on that big forehead of his. 

"Uh... I'll delete the pictures. Just let me out of this"

"Hmmm"

"Monkey, Please!"

He freezes. "Did you just call me a monkey?"

"Yes! And I'll keep calling you that I'd you don't let me out!"

"Ughhh~ ok fine. If that shuts you up" he snakes his tail behind you to pull on the rope. 

The moment you are out of its grasp, you gasp for air. The little monkeys tied it too tight on your body and you could see red straight line markings on your elbows for proof. You ran a hand over it as the simian silently observed 

"Huh, so that did shut you up" He breaks the silence. You whip your head at the comment and furrow your brows, which only bought a snicker out of him then walk in the direction of his dwelling. You immediately scramble up from the ground and run to him while also patting off of dust from your pants.

He looks over at you while you hand your palm out. He only looks at it before looking at you, inquiring you to explain. 

"My phone"

"Uhh, yeah about that. I'm still not giving it to you"

"I said I'll delete it!"

"yeah~ but I still don't trust you"

"Well, you can delete it"

"I don't know how~" 

"Are you kidding me?!," You stomp your foot, cursing under your breath while running your hand to your hair. He watches with a slight smirk. You notice and scowl. 

"Oh? You find this amusing, don't you?" You spat

He replied with a sly grin "Very much"

You groan before taking a deep breath and sighing through your nose. This monkey was aggravatingly stubborn and gosh darn annoying. But you didn't want to give up. You need that phone. It's your life support, without it you'd mentally die. 

So you spent the rest of the day trying to be sneaky and take your phone without him noticing, which failed obviously. It ended up turning into a game of tag. His being surprisingly flexible and agile while you were getting your ass owned, stumbling around like a ragdoll. You ended up storming out of the temple with him dumbfounded. 

He cackles at your outburst before settling himself down at the ledge of the cliff. He was already having fun, he never felt that thrill in a while now, not ever since he went to heaven and challenged everyone there. Too bad you were being petty, the little game he started could have lasted longer. He shakes his head at the thought and places the phone in his pocket. 

The sun setting as the ever-lasting skies reflects the orange hue the sun emitted. His little ones join him soon while the others play with each other. Some climb to his shoulder and he scratches their chin. The little one only coos, closing their eyes and leaning in. Suddenly they notice something. Underneath the sage's scarf, a light glow blinks. The monkey chirps to their king, which caught his attention. 

"What's up?"

'It's glowing'

"Glowing? What's glowing?"

'There!' The monkey points at his scarf. Sun Wukong looks down at the side and sees it. A hue of blue glows brighter than usual, blinking. No, It couldn't be. There was no way.

He stands up which makes the monkeys scatter but right he is only focused on getting a mirror, anything to get him to see. He runs around in his house to get something to look at so it'll reflect on his face. He wasn't desperate, no. Of course not! He just... wanted to see and check for sure.

He then faces his TV and immediately races over to it. Other monkeys were sitting on the couch watching Monkey King: the animated series. He plugs off the TV and couch in front of it. A series of cries and screeches could be behind him but he didn't care and drowned out the noise.  

He desperately pries off his scarf. The sight made him suck in a hard breath. He almost forgot how to breathe as his shoulders dropped. He couldn't believe it. The count down stopped. It’s legitimately 0:00 present on his neck as it flashes blue. He places his hand over his neck, feeling the marking while letting the information sink in. 

It takes a moment for thoughts to be formed as screws bucks in his mind. The clock was zero. The clock is zero. It's zero. 

"It's zero!" He leaps up before running around the living room, getting his monkeys rilled up and cheering along with him (even though they didn't know what they were cheering for) they’re happy nonetheless for their king. The Monkey chants zero over and over again enthusiastically before sitting down on the couch.

He huffs out a staggered breath, calming his racing heart. He just met his soulmate. He just met them and he had their phone. Realization struck him as he straightened up before rummaging in his pocket to check for the phone. He picks it up and lets out a relieved sigh, seeing that it’s unharmed. 

He hovers a light thumb on it, only realizing the multiple cracks across it. A few on the top of the phone but as he lightly touches it he couldn't feel the sharp cracks. He accidentally opens it, although he didn't know how. The wallpaper on the lock screen is some blue guy? With a bald head and was extremely close to the screen, with the text above saying 'No bitches?' 

He raises his eyebrow at the weird font on your phone. He tries to do something and swipes up to see a password. He tries to do something but stops after the first failed attempt. 

He lay the phone down, still trying to process everything that happened today. He can't believe that he just met the person he'd been waiting to meet. For all his life he'd always thought that it was never going to happen, giving up hope. He gave up trying to even look for it. One might even say hated at the mention of it or at least gag at it. He really wanted to believe that he didn't need it. Trying to forget about it. Trying to ignore it. He didn't believe need someone. But then hey, for once something actually worked for him. 

And he still can't believe that you didn't know him. It really was something for him. How could someone not know the monkey king? He of all people. How dare you, he thought. You also stole his chips! His precious chips. 

A slight smile appeared on his face while looking at the phone. Well, at least he knows that someone does exist, just for him. Somehow for some weird reason, it was reassuring. 

Bonus!  

You stomp back to your grandpa's house. You walk in and slam the door harder than supposed to, which caught your grandpa's attention. "Háizi! What was that!"

"Nothing, gramps" you grumble before heading to your room, this time you close the door normally. Fuming was an understatement. One you didn't have a phone now cause it’s with some dude who's a monkey apparently, petty and stubborn. You just want to punch that guy in the face with his stupid smirk. You could have just felt bad breaking in there. Say sorry, leave and probably overthink about it later but no~ he just had to be annoying, he just had to take your phone.

Mid rant, you change to your house clothes before noticing something in the mirror. An orange hue blink on your neck. You take a closer look and freeze. 

"HE'S MY SOULMATE??"

"HAIZI!"

"SORRY!" You yelled back while silently cursing under your breath. 

"I have a monkey as a soulmate?? An annoying one at that?? Great! This just keeps getting better and better" You lay down in your bed trying to calm yourself down. Until you realized 

"SHIT, I FORGOT MY BOARD!" 

"HÁIZI!"

[bratkook]

come over. (m) jjk

pairing. jungkook x reader genre. smut, pwp,  warnings. jungkook is a self proclaimed pervert, smut in forms of: mutual masturbation, voyeurism through bedroom windows, rough sex, oral (m receiving), jungkook is a lil mean but just a little, dirty talk, use of vibrator, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, overstimulation, unprotected sex word count. 7.2k summary. the guilt of being a dirty peeping tom eats Jungkook alive, not knowing this was all part of your elaborate plan to sleep with the new neighborhood eye candy. author’s note. #84 requested by @taestybae​ from this promp list! ty for sending this in bby 🖤 (requests now closed)

Jungkook knows it's wrong, god does he know it's wrong. Acting as if he didn’t mean to leave his blinds cracked open, tilted at just the right angle that allows him to still be able to see out, the view he’s granted being your own window a few feet away. 

It’s funny now, how when he had first purchased the town house he had hated how close his neighbors were to him, and now here he was, an absolute pervert who was thankful for the narrow distance between your buildings.

The self proclaimed pervert simply sits at his desk, mindlessly going through work emails while his eyes continue to drift up, staring through his blinds for any sign of movement. 

Jungkook’s chest feels tight as he waits, eyeing the ticking clock in the corner of his screen and seeing it was nearing nine at night. Maybe you had plans tonight, going out with your friends, mind too preoccupied to indulge the filthy fantasies Jungkook had swirling in his head. It had become his favorite daily activity, sneaking a peek at you, sometimes doing simple things like relaxing with a face mask, or having a dance party. 

Of course those moments were all adorable but his favorite moments were the ones where you would walk around topless or lather lotion on your body after a shower. Sometimes you’d take the teasing a step further, blinds fully opened with only the sheer curtain coming in between him and your shadowed silhouette, caught in the act of what he could only assume was you touching yourself. 

Jungkook used to think it was purely accidental, just a careless neighbor who had no idea his bedroom had the perfect view, but he swore you had made eye contact with him far too many times for this to not be intentional.

Before his mind can spiral further, there’s suddenly a flicker of light and like a magnet, Jungkook’s eyes lock in to their target, seeing you walking into your room with a small towel draped over your shoulder, sports bra and tiny workout shorts showing him how your body was glistening in sweat. 

Pushing off his desk, his chair rolls and squeaks along his floor so he could get a better view, completely invested in seeing the way you get comfortable after your trip to the gym. Call it creepy or call it attentive but Jungkook had grown to know your schedule, you were his neighbor who enjoyed giving him peep shows so it was sort of hard for him not to realize the usual routine you had. However, this was the first time he had seen you come back from the gym this late. 

Jungkook groans now at his realization, palm coming to rub down his face as he hears his own thoughts, behaving like a man who had a notebook where he jotted down your schedule. 

He didn’t, but still, he felt like a creep. A dirty fucking creep. 

With his eyes screwed shut he shuffles the chair back to its rightful spot like a child in time out, angling his body to prevent his wandering eyes from looking through his window once more, the shame once again eating away at him like it did every time. 

Did you really do this on purpose? 

Of course you did, you weren’t stupid. 

The second Jungkook moved into your neighborhood he became the talk of the street, suburban house moms, young teenage girls, even your elderly neighbor had begun to wonder who the cute boy who went jogging down the street was. He oozed sex appeal, not even realizing how swooned he had everyone with his morning workout, he just thought everyone waved and smiled at him out of pure friendliness. 

Although he had no idea how hot he looked, you were blessed with the gift of vision and common sense. It only took you one glance of him exiting his house, long hair partially tied back, running shorts hugging his thighs so beautifully and you were sold. 

The minute you realized he was your next door neighbor it was like a lightbulb went off above your head, it was a blessing in disguise and you were not about to pass up the opportunity to have this go in your favor. Giving him a front row seat to you and everything you had to offer was the cards you chose to play and so far it had been going well. 

That is until you exit the shower, excitement coursing through you, already wondering how you’re going to tease him tonight. With your towel loosely hanging around your chest, you’re ready for the small show, but as you get into your usual position you notice that his blinds are now tightly closed, no gap between the shutters to allow him a peak of you. 

It’s a sudden and very unexpected chain of events. With a small huff of disappointment you perch yourself onto the end of your bed, directly facing your window as you sit in thought, your saucy plans for the night being ruined. 

Wondering just what could have made Jungkook flip a switch like that kept you up at night so when you see him coming in from his run the following morning as you leave for work you don’t think twice about speaking up. 

Your neighbor flinches when you greet him in good morning, not expecting to hear your voice so close to him but he could thank your connected driveways for that. 

“Oh, good morning.” he smiles politely, pulling out his airpod and pausing his music entirely to give you his full attention. The small nerves of being called out bubble up inside of him, only having talked to you once prior he wasn’t really sure where this conversation would go, were you about to call him a disgusting pervert?

“Did you call it a night really early last night?” You bite instantly, soft smile not giving away your true intentions but he knows, the way his eyes widen slightly make it obvious. 

“Yeah,” he sputters out, wiping his sweaty palms on his black shorts, nerves already making his heart skip. You knew, there was absolutely no way you didn’t and this solidified it. He had assumed you did, his guilty conscience making him believe what you did was intentional in order for him not to feel like the peeping Tom he very clearly was, but hearing you sneakily admit to knowing he hadn’t watched you last night made him feel like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over him. 

“Haven’t been getting much sleep lately so..”

You simply nod along as he trails off in a lie, lips spreading out into a smirk as your eyes very obviously give him a once over, focusing on the deep cuts of his sleeves that expose his sides and art filled arm, how the shorts he wears hit above his knee and leave his glorious thighs out for you to see. He was truly blind to his good looks. 

“Sorry I haven’t really given you a proper neighborly welcome, can I have your number?” Already fishing your phone out of your pocket because you knew he wouldn’t say no, still you tack on a helpful lie to make your flirting a little more subtle. “The neighbors have a group chat, I’ll add you to it so you can get all the hot gossip.”

If he knows you're lying he doesn’t show it, instead he looks a tiny bit disappointed that you wanted his number to add him to a neighborhood group chat. Regardless he recites his number with a smile, his phone instantly vibrating in his palm with a text from you, a friendly ‘hi neighbor’ with a waving emoji at the end. 

As he starts to save your contact you open up your car door, grabbing his attention once more. “I’ll text you if I ever need sugar...or other neighborly things.”

The suggestive teasing in your tone isn’t lost on him now, his cheeks flushing at the implications behind your words. “Yeah, whatever you need.” 

He’s admittedly even more disappointed when your message thread runs dry, not even being added to the gossip group chat that he was sort of curious about. You hadn’t even given him a show since the night he shut his blinds but it was all part of your plan, expertly crafted to go in your favor. 

While you’re at work you get the email that sets everything in motion, a notification of your package being out for delivery. A very cute baby pink wand would be placed at your door step in discreet packaging and if things went the way you anticipated it would be making its proper debut tonight, hopefully with an audience of one. 

Jungkook is pulled away from his computer screen when his phone vibrates against his desk, your name illuminated on his homescreen. He pauses for a moment, wondering if this was simply a text initiating him into that damn group chat that he had no idea didn’t actually exist, but when he unlocks it and opens up the thread he sees it's just you. 

Y/N 3:48pm : hi jungkook, sorry to do this but im getting a suuuper important package delivered today could you please keep it safe until i get home later tonight? 🥺🖤

You wanted him to guard a package, just neighborly things, exactly what you said you would text him for. 

Jungkook 3:49pm : sure, what is it?

He feels stupid immediately after hitting send, fingers curling together into fists as his eyes glare at his screen. Why the hell would he ask what the package was? Being a peeping Tom was clearly not enough, no he had to know about your online purchases. 

Y/N 3:52pm : just something for sore muscles 😅

Just like a typical horny boy would, his mind wanders to what exactly could be in the box, quickly texting you an ‘okay!👍🏻’ before locking his phone altogether. He was going to lose his mind. 

All according to plan. 

Jungkook guards that package with his life, placed delicately on his kitchen counter, exactly where he left it the minute he saw the postman drop it off. He’s been glued to his couch since then, regularly looking over his shoulder to ensure the brown box wouldn’t spontaneously disappear. 

Just as he feels himself getting antsy the gentle knocking from his front door has him springing up from his couch, pausing a few feet away from the door as he eyes the knob before looking back at the package. Should he greet you with it in his hands, or would that seem like he was trying to rush you away?

When you knock a second time he opts for just opening the door, seeing you standing there with that friendly smile, a small tweed skirt and matching top showing him you had just got off work, his eyes focusing on your exposed legs for a moment too long until your voice snaps him out of it. 

“Hi Jungkook,” you greet him with that honey sweet voice, the tiny glimmer in your eyes betraying you but he doesn’t spot it. “Did you get my package?”

“Hey, yeah I did.” Leaving the door ajar, he steps further into his home, quickly retrieving the light box and bringing it to you, still patiently waiting with that polite smile as if you didn’t know what was packaged inside that box. 

“You’re a lifesaver!” you cheer, holding it close to your chest with a small sigh, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if this got stolen.”

Jungkook can feel his face warm up, not able to stop his mouth from running on autopilot, unintentionally outing himself as an extremely observant neighbor. “You must be really sore from going to the gym all the time huh?”

There's a silence that falls over you both as you eye him curiously, gaze flickering with the same mischief from earlier, something he can easily spot now and he desperately wants to shrink into himself. 

“Definitely,” you agree with a laugh, “thanks again, have a good night!”

And just like that you’re gone, leaving him with his forehead pressed against his front door as he feels like an idiot. “Really, you must be sore?” He mocks his own voice, rolling his eyes before standing up straight and retreating back into his room to finish the work he had neglected in favor of protecting your package. 

The same package that you were currently clutching onto as you bolted up your stairs with a pair of scissors in the opposite hand, debatably not the safest choice but it had to be done. You feel like a crazed woman as you stab into the clear tape to break the seal, peeling back the flaps and letting out a giddy laugh when you spot the sleek white box, a photo of the device printed on the front. 

With steady hands you pull out the prized toy, carelessly tossing the empty boxes to the side, hearing them land with a light thud. The soft silicone against your thumb fills you with anticipation, a silent click against the first button dulls down the excitement when it refuses to turn on. 

“Stupid fucking chargers.” you grunt, setting the device down and making your way back to the discarded boxes, pulling out the tiny white cable to plug it in. 

The provided pamphlet states a full charge in one hour, plenty of time for you to get a grip on yourself, the last thing you needed was to rip open your blinds and come face to face with your hot neighbor with the crazy eyes you’re sure you were sporting earlier, you really didn’t need to scare him off before the main event. 

Jungkook is none the wiser as he mindlessly scrolls through the endless data in front of him, eyes floating through the numbers in a dazed manner, his mind far too occupied with that stupid package. He knew exactly what it was, proudly deciphering the code of something for sore muscles to spell out vibrator for him in giant neon letters. 

Were you using it now, in your bedroom a good feet away from his own, laid out on your bed directly in his line of sight?

His mind continues to play out salacious scenarios as you finish applying your favorite lotion after the small body shower you took, the silk robe hanging off your shoulder as you bend forward. Your pink toy lays on your bed, the buttons now blinking to indicate a full charge, your plan was now back in motion. 

As you step back into your room and slowly crack open your blinds you realize Jungkook’s are still tightly shut. Looking up into the slowly darkening sky you notice the clouds beginning to loom overhead, a smile spreading on your lips as you think of a way to get Jungkook to open up his blinds for the show. 

Jungkook’s phone buzzes with a text a few seconds later, eyes widening slightly when he realizes it’s from you. 

Y/N 7:02pm : lol does it look like its gonna rain to you?

His head tilts in confusion at your question, nonetheless he stands from his desk, fully sliding up his blinds to stare up at the sky. When he notices the grey clouds he looks down at his phone to start to type, the small flash of movement from across the way making him freeze, looking directly through your window once more and seeing you innocently sitting on your bed, staring right at him with a smile. 

Jungkook can feel how wide his eyes get as he stares at you, leg crossed over the other as you rest back onto your palms, head tilted as you wave at him in greeting. Right where you want him. 

His hand raises up to wave back at you, the voice in his head screaming every obscenity he could think of as he attempts to smile, the grimace in his face making it hard for you not to laugh. 

You start slow, wanting to give him enough time to shut his blinds if he really wants no part in this, your hand coming up to begin pushing the robe off your shoulder further, the first sliver of skin being exposed to his eyes. Jungkook wants to scream, bang his head into the glass as he sees the way your skin glimmers, already knowing you had lathered on that damn lotion of yours. 

When he doesn’t move you let the other sleeve fall down, the swell of your breasts holding up the soft material, shielding them from his sight for another moment. Your eyes never leave his face, needing to see his reaction when you sit up straight and let the material pool around your hips, tits fully exposed for him to see. 

His reaction is well worth it, jaw dropping slightly as he spots the way your nipples harden in the exposed air, forehead nearly ramming into the window when you bring your hand up to pinch and twist at the pebbled buds. He feels his cock stirring in his pants when your head drops back, lips opening up to let out what he knows is the prettiest moan, head leveling out as you bite your lip and stare at him once more. 

Jungkook doesn’t know what to do as he watches you, champagne colored robe still hooked around your elbows as you reach behind your bed and pick up the pink toy you had bought today. The metallic capped bottom shines in the light and he feels like he’s caught in a trance as you showcase it. 

For a moment your attention drops down, landing on your phone as you quickly type out a message before setting it aside once more. His phone comes to life in his hand, nearly scaring him with its vibrations. 

Y/N 7:18pm : touch yourself please

He swears he’s gonna bust his load then and there, typing out a quick ‘okay’, a message you ignore entirely in favor of turning on your toy. The excited look in your eyes is clear as day when the device buzzes in your hand, Jungkook’s eager fingers unbuttoning his jeans as you start to trail the vibrating head along your body, passing over your nipples and gasping at the ticklish feeling. 

Looking across the way once more you see Jungkook’s gaze locked onto you, his body fully illuminated by his bedroom light, allowing you to see his hands start to push his pants down, taking his black briefs with them. Your teeth bite down onto your bottom lip as he raises his palm up to messily spit into it before coming back down to fist his slowly hardening cock. His covered chest rises and falls as he huffs out a breath, slowly squeezing his shaft as he glides up towards his head, coating his palm in the stray beads of precum that drip out of it. 

This further solidified that Jungkook was a pervert, at least in his own mind, who else would be so eager to jack off to the sight of their neighbor this easily. You didn’t think so though, knowing every one of your actions had a purpose, Jungkook wasn’t a pervert for being a predictable boy, he was doing exactly what you wanted him to do. 

As the head of your toy trails down your chest you take your time, circling your navel before reaching your hips, sliding down your thighs as you lean further back and begin to spread them apart. In a slow movement that Jungkook can’t look away from, you finally reveal yourself to him, folds glistening with your arousal, coating your inner thighs, allowing the toy to glide with ease. 

Jungkook groans loudly as you pass the buzzing toy over your clit, a featherlike touch that makes you twitch and moan, his hand tightening around his cock as he twists on the way up. You were absolutely sin personified, giving him a show as you tease yourself, mouth dropped open as you finally press the toy against your clit, fingers slipping into your entrance and pumping inside of you. He can only imagine the way you sound as you stretch yourself open, hips rolling up into your hand as the pleasure jolts through you. 

Fuck, what he would do to be able to touch you, hear your moans, be the one to hold that toy against you until you were writhing around. 

You can see it in his eyes, the want clouding them as he watches you, his hand steadily pumping his length, quickening up each time your body twitches. When you pull the toy away his brows furrow, releasing his cock as he places his sticky palm against the window, wondering just what you were planning now as you reach for your phone once more. 

It only takes you a few seconds to type out the message and hit send, looking up at him with that same predatory gaze you’ve been wearing all night. As he unlocks his phone again you stand up, letting the robe fully slide off your body, pooling around your feet as you step closer to your window, arms crossed under your chest to push your tits out further as you watch him. 

Y/N 7:32pm : come over

He rereads the message three times, cock still out for you to see as he contemplates his options, finally looking back up and nearly choking when he sees the way you’re almost pressed against your own window, a sweet smile on your lips as you wave him over. That helps him make his decision, locking his phone and groaning as he slips his cock back into his briefs and shimmies his pants back on. 

Your eyes gleam as he turns to exit his room, the light dimming off as he bolts down his stairs towards his front door. When he steps out onto his porch he sees the ground is damp, small droplets now falling from the sky, the chill creeping through his thin layers as he navigates across your connected driveways with his palms covering his extremely prominent bulge. 

“Please be unlocked,” he whispers under his breath when he gets to your door, turning the knob and sighing in relief when it unlocks. Jungkook doesn’t care about manners as he steps in, locking the door behind him and instantly climbing the stairs two at a time, already knowing where your room was since your house was a mirror copy of his own. 

When he finally pushes his door open he finds you perched on your bed, fully naked and waiting for him with that same toy trailing up and down your torso. The need for introductions are thrown out the window as he crosses the room, immediately settling beside you, his large hand cupping your cheek to pull you in for a kiss. 

It catches you by surprise, the normally shy neighbor who got nervous whenever you caught him staring, never expecting him to be the type to go after what he wanted like this but the way he takes control makes you lean into his touch. His lips are tender against yours, hand guiding your face closer as he slowly licks his way into your mouth, a moan of approval leaving you as his warm tongue tickles yours. 

You’d often fantasized about kissing him, wondering if he was the type to tease, to pull back and leave you wanting more but the desperation guides his movements, stops him from not fulfilling his own desires. Jungkook kisses you with passion, hunger leading him until he’s pushing you flat on your back, hands dropping down to gently hold onto your neck. 

The toy is cast to the side, your own hands sliding through his long hair as you sigh into his mouth, the wet smacks of each kiss filling your ears. 

“Take it off,” you mumble against his lips, trailing your hands down his back and tugging his shirt up, determined to rip it off of him to finally see the glorious body you know he has. Jungkook presses a quick kiss against you before kneeling up and pulling his shirt off by his neckline, each inch of exposed skin making your mouth water. 

The way his muscles rippled, pulled taut as he stretches out and tosses the black long sleeve aside, bulging out when he finally relaxes, you can’t help but let your fingers trace each ridge on his stomach. Jungkook lets you take him in, not opposed to the lust swirling in your eyes, your tongue licking over your lips as you admire him, following the lines of each tattoo up his arm until you reach his face. 

“Like what you see?” he murmurs, looking down at you with lidded eyes, letting them roam along your body, the swell of your tits that rise with each breath, how your hips can’t keep still, searching for any bit of friction you could find. 

“You’re fucking unreal.”

He holds his breath when you begin undoing his pants, in a hurry to see his cock without the distance between you. “This is what you wanted isn’t it?” he realizes, the completely unphased look on your face, the perfectly executed texts and package delivery, just knowing that he had done everything you wanted him to do. 

“It was fun though wasn’t it Jungkook, tell me–“ he helps you tug his jeans down, his briefs going with them and joining his shirt on the floor, “What did you like more, seeing me do everyday things or watching me play with myself?”

A choked groan slips past his lips as you wrap your hand around his cock, slowly sliding up his length as you question him, enjoying the way he struggles to respond. “God you’re filthy,” he grunts, jaw slack as you sit up, face now level with his cock as he rests on his knees. 

The sly smirk you give him shows that you know this, know exactly how filthy you are, using it to your advantage to get what you wanted. With bated breath he watches the way you inch forward, tongue sticking out to gently lick the swollen head of his cock, the salty bead of precum picked up by your tongue. 

“Can’t help it.” You sink onto him as the words leave your mouth, lips wrapping around him and he sighs at the warmth that envelops him, the wetness of your tongue circling his tip making his stomach tense up, muscles flexing to keep himself from thrusting into your throat. 

The small moan you let out as he fills your mouth makes his body rattle, the feeling of his dick heavy on your tongue as you slide further down, wrapping your hand around the base to steady yourself. This was much more satisfying than seeing him play with himself a few feet away, the sighs of appreciation that float in the air each time you pull back make you keep going, wanting to see him fall apart. 

Jungkook doesn’t know when his hands tangle themselves in your hair, taking it upon himself to guide you up and down his length, starting a filthy rhythm that lit his body up. He urges you down more, hands coaxing you, pushing you further onto him until you’re choking as he fills your throat. He doesn’t think you’ve ever looked prettier, eyes full of tears, nose pressed against his stomach as you hum around his cock. 

He pulls you off of him a few seconds later, the wet gasp you let out ripping through the air as you catch your breath but that sly smile remains on your face, eyeing his messy length, bobbing slightly as he moves around. 

Leaning over you once more his hands cup your face, thumb rubbing under your eyes where he spots the unshed tears threatening to spill over, collecting against your lower lashes. “Fuck, I bet you’re pretty when you cry.”

The rasp in his voice makes your stomach flip, more wetness coating your thighs and further ruining your sheets. “Make me,” you whisper, smiling when his eyebrows raise in question. “Make me cry Jungkook.”

His cock throbs at your response, wanting nothing more than to do what you want, turn you into a crying mess as you beg for him like he often thought about. “You sure?”

With a small nod you’re crawling backwards, flipping yourself over onto your hands and knees, arching your back for him as he eyes your exposed cunt, sodden folds shining when you wiggle your hips. “I’m sure.”

Jungkook fists his cock as he approaches you, slotting his knees between your thighs, inching forward until he’s circling your entrance in a teasing motion. Flashes of the way you had spread yourself open minutes prior play in his mind as he slowly breaches your entrance, the first feeling of you taking his breath away, eyes falling shut as you let out the first moan. 

Your hands fist the sheets as he stretches you open, his size filling you up so deliciously, inch by inch splitting you open. He can’t look away from it, mesmerized with the way you take him in, molding around him like he was meant to be there. 

A whimper leaves you as he presses his palms onto your ass, holding you still once he finally bottoms out, hips pressed flush against you, walls fluttering around him as he gives you time to adjust to his size. 

“This is–“ you groan when he slides back a little, “this is just how I pictured it.” The laughter laced in your voice piques his interest, leaning over your body to see you with your face pressed against your sheets, a teasing smile on your face. 

“Yeah?” Jungkook questions, tightening his grip on your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh, no doubt marking them for you to see later. “You pictured getting fucked from behind by your neighbor?”

“Mhm,” you squeal out, giggling when he starts to fuck into you, pulling out nearly all the way before thrusting back in, the small smack of your skin mixing in with your laughter and moans. 

“I knew it,” he grunts, trailing his hand up your spine, around your neck until his palm was pressing your face into the mattress, holding you down as he ravished you, stretched you apart and turned your impure thoughts into mush. “Knew you did it on purpose, fuck, do you know how guilty I felt?”

Your walls tighten around him and he moans out at the feeling, the warmth sucking him back in each time he pulled out, the wet squelch of you soaking his cock getting louder each time. 

“S-sorry.” It's quiet, but he knows you don’t mean it, knows the words are lace with trouble as you start to rut back onto him, the playful smile felt against his palm spelling it out for him. 

“Oh you’re sorry?” Jungkook picks up his merciless pace, knowing he found the right rhythm when you let out a cry of surprise, arching further for him and keening as he nudges against your sweet spot, the first sparks of your orgasm flashing within you. The fact that you were getting what you want sending you closer to the edge faster than expected. 

“No, I’m not,” you admit, shamelessly moaning with each thrust. There was no way in hell you were sorry, if this was the outcome you’d do it all again the same exact way. Jungkook wouldn’t argue with that, the earlier guilt he felt long gone, replaced with pure hunger, only increasing when your moans start to get breathier, the panting felt against his hand, hot and heavy as you whimpered. 

“I know you’re not, you love putting on a show for me huh, knowing I was watching you from my window while you fucked with me.”

His words make your mind spin, the intoxicating roll of his hips dragging you under into the same state of desperation he was in, weeks of mindless torture fueling the both of you with more than enough sexual frustration. 

“I loved it,” you whine when he pushes your face harder into the sheets, the roughness he’s displaying making your stomach flip, thighs spreading out further for him and you let out a trembling moan when he sinks deeper into you. 

You were going to cum, he recognized the way your body tightened up, walls clamping around him, making him curse as he continues to rut into you. Jungkook smiles as you cry out, chest pushing into your mattress, hands pulling at your sheets in desperation until suddenly, you’re cumming with a shout of his name, the feeling taking you completely by surprise. “F-fuck, Jungkook.”

He gasps as you gush around him, dripping down your thighs, creaming his cock until it's slick with your arousal. Jungkook doesn’t waste any time pulling out of you, needing to see your face as he sank back into you, now on your back with a dazed out smile. 

A soft groan drips off your tongue, thick and needy when he bottoms out once more, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he starts to rock into you, forehead sweaty with his long hair falling around his face. It frames him perfectly, a simple curtain letting you see every expression he gives you, a private show just for you to witness. 

“Wanna make you cry,” he confesses, bending down and kissing your chest, his right hand mindlessly swatting at the bed until he finds exactly what he’s looking for, that damn vibrator he had guarded with his life earlier. 

The second the small vibrations meet your ears, your eyes go wide, catching the evil smirk on his lips as he holds the toy between you, fidgeting with the settings until it’s low enough to start. “Wait Jungkook, I’m sensitive.”

He leans back enough to trail the head down your stomach, taunting you as he circles your hips and reaches your mound. “You told me to make you cry though didn’t you baby?”

The excitement rushes through you once more, letting out shaky gasp as he just barely touches your sensitive clit, your body jolting and squeezing around his cock. Jungkook shuts his eyes at the feeling, bringing it back to rest against the tiny pearl, the low settings making a hum course through you, your fingers digging into his shoulders. 

“Ah, Jungkook,” you cry, chest heaving as he starts to fuck you again, hips swirling around, unsure if you want to retreat from the toy or press against it harder, the slight sting of pain morphing into pleasure the longer he keeps it up. 

“What?” he mocks, raising the settings until you’re shouting, a delirious laugh following suit as your thighs tighten around his waist in reflex. Jungkook knows you love this, your teeth biting down onto your bottom lip as you stare at him with glassy eyes full of tears, urging him to fuck you harder, begging him for more. 

He does what you ask, pistoning his hips into you with enough force to jostle your body, the head of his cock just shy of hitting your cervix, waves of pleasure mixing in with the vibrations against your clit. Jungkook can feel his own orgasm creeping up on him, crawling up his spine, goosebumps flaring out on his skin, each wet thrust and cry from you only pushing him closer. 

Jungkook watches you carefully, lost in his own pleasure but focused enough to see the way your eyes well up further, the needy sobs you release as he fucks you just right wrapping around him and urging him on, not wanting to hold back when this is what you’ve been wanting. 

The small inkling to be mean and actually see the tears fall spurs something inside of him. With a few more clicks the vibrator hits the highest setting, buzzing intensely against your clit and you nearly thrash at the sudden feeling, back arching up as you gasp. 

Jungkook chuckles, the low timbre making you whimper as he presses the head of the toy harder against you. “You gonna cum again, make a big mess around my cock?”

“Jungkook,” it’s a choked cry of his name, your arms seeking purchase around his frame, needing something to ground you as you start to float off. 

“C’mon, wanna see you cry.” He watches in awe as your body tenses of for a moment, the pleasure catching just right to push you over. 

“Fuck, fuck–“ you chant, words slurring together as a second orgasm is pulled out of you, eyes rolling back when the euphoric feeling crashes over you, tears finally spilling over and body turning limp as he continues to fuck you through it just like the last one. He feels like he won as the wetness pools under your eyes, brows furrowing together as you mewl at the feeling of your orgasm cresting, heartbeat slowing in your chest as you come down. 

“So good,” he mumbles at the high vibrations felt against his cock, the flutters from your velvety walls keeping him from turning it off, sliding it down a bit closer to your entrance until he’s gasping as well. 

“Too much,” you plead, eyes misty as you stare at him, mouth dropping open in a quiet moan when he ruts against you in search of his own release. His free hand reaches up to cup your cheek, wiping away the stray tears that had fallen against your skin. 

“I knew you’d look pretty when you cry.” He sighs, shutting his eyes when you pulse around his length. “I’m almost there, you okay?”

His concern makes you smile, nodding as you place your hand over his own on your face, dealing with the oversensitivity for him to get his own release. “Yeah, cum inside me please.”

Jungkook groans in response, sliding the vibrator further down until it rests against the base of his cock, gliding along his length with each of his thrusts, the buzzing making his body tingle. 

“Shit,” he grunts out, hips fucking you with more urgency, rutting against you sloppily, eyes opening up to stare directly at you and the lustfilled look you give him is what pushes him over. A choked groan dies in his throat when he sinks into you as deep as he can, spurts of his cum filling you up as his face twists in pleasure, mouth dropped open to release a soft moan that you swallow with a sweet kiss.  

You hum against his lips when he thrusts shallowly a few more times until finally coming to a halt, turning off the toy and chucking it aside with no care before collapsing on top of you in pure dramatics. Jungkook has no qualms about how much he weighs, making himself right at home as he nuzzles into your chest, sighing in content when you rake your fingers through his hair. 

“I feel sweaty, and I know I made a mess on your sheets.” Jungkook mumbles out, cheek pressed against your tits, eyes slipped shut with his slowly softening cock still inside of you. No doubt would your sheets be damp with an unholy mixture of the night's debauchery, something you would surely deal with later. 

“It’s okay, I like the mess.” Your words are meant to be joking but the way his cock twitches inside you shows he takes everything you say seriously, simply rolling your eyes with a smile as you tease him further. “You’re a pervert.”

Jungkook scoffs at this now, taking full offense as he pulls out of you with an accusatory glare, eyes zeroing in on your evil smile as you prop yourself up against your headboard. “I’m the pervert?” When you nod he laughs loudly, finger pointing at you in a less than threatening manner, “Says the one who gave me free shows every night!”

“It’s not my fault you’re easy to rope in, you were hooked the second you saw me have that dance party in here huh?”

He nods instantly, knowing exactly what night you were talking about, it was the night he had moved in, before you had even realized he was your neighbor, having a full on dance party to some top 40’s from the 2000’s playlist you found. That was the first night he ever saw you and ever since then he had left his blinds cracked just to see a glimpse of you, not knowing what lewd ideas you had planned. 

“Was it the facemask that did it for you?” You laugh, playfully nudging his side with your foot as he glares, the small smile on his face showing you he wasn’t taking this seriously. 

“No, it was those sexy ass boyshorts you had on, I think they were grey. They made your ass look nice.”

He laughs with you as you squeal, knowing exactly what pair of underwear you had on, the oversized shirt doing nothing to hide them as you danced around like a lunatic. 

“Is this gonna be a thing?” he wonders, taking it upon himself to enter your bathroom to grab a towel, the least he could do was clean up the mess he had caused between your thighs. 

“What?”

“Should I text you about the weather tomorrow, call you over to mine this time? I’ll let you choke me if you’re into that.” He says it so casually it catches you by surprise, a cackle leaving you as he finishes cleaning you up, handing you your robe to cover up as he slips back into his underwear. 

“Are you into that?”

“I could be,” he winks, flopping onto your bed beside you, letting his hand trail up your thigh until it reaches the hem of your robe, tracing the goosebumps that flare up because of it. 

That was definitely something you could work with, mind already planning out the next time you’d torture your neighbor, wondering just how your hands would look like wrapped around his thick neck. Maybe you could see if he looked pretty when he cried. 

He spots the mischief in your face instantly but before he could indulge you further, there was one thing absolutely eating away at his mind. “By the way, you never added me to that gossip group chat.”

Your lips purse into a tight smile as your fingers return to his hair, twirling each strand as you hold back a laugh, knowing it absolutely did not exist. You weren’t in the mood to crush his spirit, knowing he desperately wanted to know the ins of the neighborhood gossip so you simply shrug in faux apology, telling yet another white lie. “My bad, I’ll add you tomorrow.”

It’s good enough for Jungkook pressing a kiss against your thigh as he thinks of what the following night will bring, his mind also picturing just how cute your hands would look around his neck. 

[misakialter]

Omega And Season 1

This is a "Everyone Dropkick Misaki Before They Don't Stop Talking" post. So I'm gonna open up by saying thank you for reading if you're here to listen to me.

Anyhow...

Not content with giving it some time of the day on my Media Thread on Twitter yesterday, I wanted to fully go off about Saint Seiya Omega (The First Season) because it sure is a series I did not expect to like as much as I did in spite of it having some serious shenanigans which are so hard to get behind.

To know what I'm talking about in case you don't know about it, here's a quick summary:

The series is about a group of warriors serving under the reincarnation of Goddess Athena who strive to protect the world against great evils who wish to take Earth for themselves or even destroy it.

Set after the main series as a sequel, our story tells the tale of Koga, the new bearer of the Pegasus Cloth, who was raised by the current Athena herself, Saori Kido. After her kidnapping by the powerful god known as Mars, his journey is set into motion and along his upstart Bronze Saint companions are pitted onto a grand scale battle for the survival of Earth with all odds stacked against them.

They are some key aspects it shares with it's predecessor but unlike other series who are perfectly content on tidying up what already works, Omega instead pitches brand new things, for better or worse, to see what sticks.

Omega and Legacy

Right of the bat we tackle gracefully the involvement of the previous main cast while also not diminishing the role of the past protagonist and previous Pegasus, Seiya, the only one who remains a little more of an active participant. They are mostly absent with a good excuse from the story's part, but also offer a passive involvement as mentors to the new generation of Bronze Saints, so they are not wasted. They also play a huge part on the legacy and lore the series are set in through their connections through the villian and their confrontation with them.

I mention it here because this is part of the foundation of this world, something that makes everything tick and have a place, making much of the original series feel appreciated without needing to pave the way so hard to the new one as to spit in the face of it. It's something that a sequel series often tends to miss with, instead of properly reading the room.

The series also makes sure to play with said expectations of the original lore and play with it — There's deadass a fight which is a copypasted homage but the outcome is different PRECISELY because of it's context. It can be safely said that nostalgia is weaponized by Toei in a rather interesting manner compared to other sequel series.

This is probably one of the strongest aspects of the series on a fundamental level so whenever it does something like say, the Sanctuary Arc again, it doesn't feel eye rollingly whack we're doing this again on yet another series because there's more than enough to avoid it holding up entirely by nostalgic feelings.

Of course, now that we're getting to the plot, we're starting to see the more obvious cracks in the armor.

Omega and Storytelling

Let me tell you a horror story in one sentence:

WEEKLY SCHEDULED ANIME EPISODES ON THE 2000s

So you know, it's felt in a lot of places, here included.

Our first episode leaves a good hook for the series which is soon a little muddled in the following ones. Key introductions for some characters are made but the decision of having the Palaestra, a school of Saints, might sound way too much of a generic setup, followed up with a tournament too.

Fuckiiiinnnn uuuuuuhhhhhh—

— And then it's thrown away almost immediately. The deceptively generic first few episodes kick into gear eventually and now we meet Aria — a character who is gonna remain super important this season — broaden the scope of the conflict, get to see EXACTLY how dire this is, increase the amount of intrigue and deliver a lot of promise for the future of this sequel.

...

What you just experienced here is the first sudden peak this series felt like having.

Continuing with the road trip, we suffer a bit of filler, a bit of inconsistency, and it takes a while until the ideas begins to flourish. It's clear that the format is unfit for the things they wanna do in the series, and as they cannot find ways to stretch things, plotlines can become dormant or episodes take a bit before they stop feeling just okay. And thus, much like the characters in the series in terms of power ups, it bursts sporadically into some truly spectacular heights.

Koga (To an extent), Aria, Eden, Sonia, Soma, Mars and some of the Gold Saints' development prove to be constant highlights of the story and promises that are delivered on with extreme efficiency and are set up as early as they are introduced, which feels like a reward to one's faith into these ideas and are probably your reasons to stick by.

That is not to say that is free of sin and makes it easy to do so: The element mechanic being quickly dropped, some fights kinda blend with the rest and are just serviceable, the aimless nature of the roadtrip that could've made it drag on, the lack of focus on some of the main characters I hadn't mentioned (To the point Haruto is like, disappearing between episodes sometimes) and so on, so forth. They are notable points which hold the story back, and it truly doesn't fix it as it keeps going.

As we segue into Omega's own Sanctuary Arc, it does everything in it's power to do good on it. While not perfect, this last portion of the season shines as brightly as it can and peaks the hardest — To the point of making me feel A LOT. Like it got me for real.

And even as we got the finale the series closed off spectacularly, and in a way so definitive I could confidently list my feelings about it. So even as I list the drawbacks, I find myself highly hesitant to call it a bad season overral, especially because I had fun. Mid feels like also selling it short. But objectively, it's not like I can call it the best thing ever.

It is very well able to fool me into doing so, however, and that is the biggest compliment I can give it.

Omega and Presentation

And that's the biggest compliment I can give it I guess.

As I said before, the curse of being a weekly means that it's cursed with being animated weakly. Some key episodes get to pop off with fantastic shots and amazingly detailed drawings but there's also moments of low budget where a still drawing gets zoomed in and stock footage is reused. The writing has to carry a lot of this but a lot of this is also not helping a ton unless it's a very important moment in the story. So much like it, it stays middling until it peaks.

The action is also the reason why the armors were redesigned into these new, simpler and smoother looking ones, the intention was to make it look good in motion, and it does! But it's not as often exploited as it can be.

Here's the thing:

The reason why the classic Saint Seiya was fine with the bulk was mostly due to there not being a need for dynamic and smooth flow with such static but to the point action — They ARE metallic armors after all — And yet it still made a point to change up the designs when bringing it to an Anime to something easier and modern looking, to put it into motion which was a necessity.

With Omega this core idea is a hit or miss. I like the armors, but at the same time, these characters do not feel armored. Some fans are outright aleniated by them but in my honest opinion, the issue with it is more about the fundamental usage being heavily underplayed when that was the whole point, and not so much the fact that they look like this, considering these are STILL neat looking designs especially in this artstyle and in motion. Getting the job done is at least something they accomplish fine.

Either way, let's end up with an amazing positive: The OST. Dear lord, the music was fucking fantastic in every way. The tracks it borrows from the original are done great justice while new tracks fit the scale of the story perfectly, and it is hardly misused or jarring. It doesn't reach the peak of Saint Seiya's original soundtrack but it is an incredibly worthy successor, giving Omega a standout identity on that aspect. And when they made a second opening after their rendition of Pegasus Fantasy for the first... CHRIST, now THAT'S understanding your series.

...Oh, I'm still talking about the music, not Omega as a whole, don't worry. Don't want to give you a heart attack after all.

Omega and Saint Seiya

When you have to follow up an original work, especially a classic to many, you're set up with some insane expectations. Not being able to deliver them is also kinda crushing, it can be disappointing to give it any sort of chance. Change, new ideas, different stories, all become taboo if you cannot find your footing or appropiately pitch them with conviction.

A sequel series is a difficult thing to make, let alone have it stand out on it's own.

And I fully believe Omega managed to pull it off with this season... After falling down the stairs for a couple times IT'S NOT PERFECT GUYS IT'S JUST A SILLY LITTLE THING IT'S OKAY IT KILLED NO ONE UNLIKE THE NETFLIX SHOW.

To it's detriment it's one of the most unique amongst the sequels to Saint Seiya and the one whose best ideas shine through spectacularly in spite of all it has to go through to commit to the good ones. Objectively it's got some notable weaknesses getting in the way but beyond animation, it was personally fun to experience and I do not regret it in the least when the worst it could offer me is Mid™ rather than a complete waste of it's potential.

Overral, the series stumbles, but does not fumble. I had a lot of fun with it no matter what the issues were. I am ready for whatever the fuck is supposed to be at Season 2.

And as always thank you for reading, hope it was fun.

Later!

[pingutats]

be this close, forever and ever

you and harry have been together for a while. your nights at home are quiet and comfortable, and, well, you’re both just so in love.

warnings: sexual content (soft giggly sex), mostly fluff

word count: 2.5k

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

Living with Harry, the two of you start to fall into the same rhythm. It’s not easy with his schedule as chaotic as it often is and your lives so profoundly different, but the nights when he’s home are the quiet sanctuary you need from all of those stresses. His little rituals seep into your own. The evenings are for being together, enjoying each other’s company without distraction or pressure. It’s just you and him, and the routine you’ve constructed so delicately together.

It starts with a face mask. Just because he’s so famous, he receives packages from different companies hoping for endorsements. He doesn’t really do those but he keeps the boxes anyway and most nights the two of you pick out one to try. He reads through the ingredients while you wait for the prescribed fifteen minutes to pass: pumpkin extract, baobab oil, a white flower extract.

“Which white flower?” Harry asks, looking up at you. 

His mask is wrinkled between his brows where he’s frowning and you reach up to smooth it out again, your hands coming away sticky. You wipe them on his sweatpants, which just makes him frown again. “Dunno,” you say, “but it must be a pretty powerful flower if it—” you snatch the packet out of his hand “—de-puffs, hydrates, and brightens our skin.” You scan the printed text for a moment. “I think this one’s supposed to be used in the morning.”

“Oh, fuck. The moon’s out. Was this all for nothing?”

After peeling off the masks carefully in the bathroom, you coo over each other’s soft skin ridiculously and move back into the living room for the next unspoken event of your night. Harry is borderline religious about meditating, somehow possessing the discipline to do it for twenty minutes day and night. You aren’t like him, but sometimes you join in. It is good for you, after all.

The two of you sit on the carpet, legs crossed and backs straight, side by side and within arms reach. The itch to reach out and touch him or lean over to put your head on his shoulder is strong, but you know it annoys him when you do that. He is so serious about it — “It doesn’t work if you keep poking me, the point is to be completely focused” — and even if you’ve never reached his fanaticism about the practise, you respect it so you keep your distance. Two minutes in, though, you’re starting to get bored. He can meditate for ages: twenty minutes is his standard, and you simply don’t have it in you to sit still for that long. Quietly, so as not to disturb him, you uncross your legs and stand up, padding across the soft carpet into the kitchen to turn on the kettle.

When the soft alarm he’s set on his phone rings and brings him back to reality, he blinks open his eyes to see you in front of him, holding two steaming mugs. It’s the tea he buys especially to have before bed, something a friend recommended to relax him. You aren’t sure if it really does anything, but it tastes good so you always have a cup too. When you think about it, you do almost always have a good sleep the nights that you drink it. Those nights are the ones you’re sleeping with Harry, though, so maybe it isn’t the tea. You set the mugs on the table nearby. 

“Thank you, love,” he says softly. He reaches to take hold of your hand and then suddenly drags you down to the floor, a tangle of limbs as you collapse on top of him. 

You giggle and then shriek as his fingers find the ticklish spot along your ribs. “Harry! Get off!”

His attack ceases very quickly when you accidentally elbow him in the stomach in your attempts to escape.

“Sorry, H.”

“’S alright. Probably deserved it.”

“You did.”

But he’s mostly quiet in the evenings — doesn’t like to talk too much as he decompresses from the busy-ness of his days, so he shows his affection more through his actions. As the two of you sip your tea (still on the floor, because with the plushy carpet he has it’s just as comfortable down here as on the couch) he reaches out to drum his fingers over your knee while he tries to remember all the things he needs to do tomorrow. He’s always written himself to-do lists and he got you hooked on them too. You were sceptical at first, but they do make life easier. The little thrill of ticking off boxes in your black notebook with your initials monogrammed on the bottom right corner (Harry’s gift) is a bonus. He’s less driven by those superficial rewards, so he chooses to keep his on his laptop, which is rose gold. His hand leaves you only to type the next line of his to-do list, then he’s back to tracing patterns over the fabric of your borrowed sweatpants. He emails the list to himself when he’s finished. You’ve always found that funny, and you tease him for being grandpa-ish, but it’s just another one of his eccentricities that makes him more endearing.

You probably wear his clothes just as much as you wear your own. He loves seeing you in his stuff. He’s practically throwing t-shirts at you as soon as you walk into the house. He’ll take your stuff, too, sometimes. Dating Harry comes with an unspoken agreement to merge your wardrobes. There are a couple of pieces — a hoodie or two, sweatpants that are too big for either of you, a pair of extremely fluffy socks — that have been passed between you for so long that you can barely remember who owned them first. The sweatpants you’re wearing right now (paired with just a sports bra) are his. The old band tee he has on is yours.

He carries the empty mugs back to the kitchen and loads them into the dishwasher while you finish the last of your planning. There’s no discussion around it, just like no one asked you to make the tea in the first place. The two of you just now how to work together now, with all the times you’ve practised this routine. Sometimes it’s him who makes the tea, sometimes you finish your list first, but you never really have to talk. Harry usually picks out an album to play in the background over these moments, and that’s the only thing you need to listen to. It’s good. It makes you feel more connected to him, like you understand each other on a deeper level than just being able to talk.  You know Harry like the back of your hand. He knows you almost as well as you know yourself. It’s a quiet kind of euphoria, to love and be loved back. You don’t need the fanfares and the grandiose displays. You just need each other.

Later, you pull faces at each other in the mirror while you brush your teeth, bumping hips as you giggle around your toothbrushes. He’s finished in the bathroom before you are, so he lies in bed  in just his boxers and watches you through the open doorway while you do your last couple of skincare and hair rituals. Satisfied, you switch the bathroom light off and enter the bedroom that you share, decorated with framed artworks you both chose, a bedspread that you picked out together. You quickly change into just a long loose shirt, then collapse into bed with him and crawl under the covers, his greedy arms pulling you to nestle into his side while he presses a kiss to your forehead. He likes to read before he sleeps, but you aren’t in the mood for that. You shuffle down until your head is at his chest and you throw your arm and leg over him, letting him rest his paperback against your bare thigh while he reads with you wrapped around him.

After a couple of minutes of just the sound of pages turning and your soft breaths, you start to sponge kisses over his bare chest. He ignores you at first, but you hear his breathing stutter as you move up to his collarbone.

“Let me just finish this chapter,” he murmurs. “Just a couple pages left.” His eyes don’t leave the page, but he gropes around until he finds your hand and brings your fingers to his mouth, kissing them before he lets your intertwined hands drop.

You don’t reply. You pull your hand out of his loose grasp and run your fingertips up the subtly defined lines of his abs, softened by the way he’s sitting. You trace the wings of the butterfly tattooed over his stomach, then draw a constellation between his four nipples — he chuckles and pulls your hand away, holding it tighter this time.

“Baby,” he says, a little firmer this time.

You kiss his shoulder again.

He sighs, closing the book (he doesn’t tear his eyes away from the page until it’s fully closed and you almost feel bad for distracting him until —

He throws the book on the nightstand and reaches over your body to plant his hand on the mattress, pushing himself up so he’s hovering above you. “You’re a pest,” he says, leaning down to nudge his nose against yours. 

You giggle and bite your lip, wrapping one leg around his hip and pulling him closer to you. “Kiss me?”

He obliges, pressing his lips against yours. “That all you wanted?” His tone is slightly teasing. He’s always liked to see you squirm.

You shake your head, wrapping your other leg around him. You can feel the bulge underneath his boxers against your crotch and it sets a fire in your core. You thread a hand into his hair and pull him down to kiss him again, less chastely this time. You roll your hips against him, just slightly, and smile against his kiss when you feel him twitch.

He breaks away from the kiss and smears his lips over your cheekbone to your ear. “Tell me, angel, tell me what you want you want and I’ll give it to you,” he whispers.

You barely contain a whimper at how deep his voice has gotten. “Fuck me,” you say, gasping as he starts to place hot openmouthed kisses down your neck. When you first slept together, you were too embarrassed to ask him so openly. You don’t get embarrassed around him anymore. “Harry, please fuck me.”

He pulls back suddenly, smiling down at you. “See? All you had to do was ask nicely.”

“Harry!”

He’s laughing as he pulls his boxers down to free his cock, but his giggles fade into a low moan as he takes hold of himself and strokes a couple times. “Ready for me, baby?”

“Yeah.”

He pushes into you with one fluid motion, making your eyes roll back. He fills you so perfectly. Every single time he’s in you is better than the last, it never gets old — there’s no feeling that’s as good as how he feels. Sometimes it’s explosive, sometimes he’s brutal in how he fucks you, or passionate and needy, or the both of you get caught up in the roles you make up to play, but you treasure the times like this. The times where he’s on top of you, face-to-face, alternating between kisses and whispers and little giggles — this is where you feel the most love for Harry.

He takes his time, in no hurry to end this moment. The pace he sets is slow but he reaches deep into you on each thrust, his breath coming out increasingly ragged every time he buries himself to the hilt. You have your hands in his hair and splayed across his back — he has one clutching the pillow beside your head to hold himself up, the other roaming over your chest. It’s like he can’t decide what he wants to do with his mouth: he’ll kiss your lips, then along your jaw, down your neck, then back up to your ear where he whispers all the sweet little nothings he can think of.

“So pretty, baby, love you so much, taking me so well, always my good girl, my best girl, my girl, always feel so good…” He chants it like a prayer, his words taking on a firmer tone each time he thrusts in, starting to pick up the pace a bit. “Touch yourself for me, darling, want to see you cum underneath me.”

You moan and reach down between your legs, rubbing little circles around your clit while he starts to fuck you at a faster pace. “Feels so good, Harry,” you say, your words choked slightly by the intensity of what you’re feeling right now.

“I know it does,” he replies, kissing you again, swallowing your moans. That edge of cockiness, the way he knows how to take care of you, when you just need his mouth on you and he can’t keep off you — you love all these little traits. You love him. And he loves you. That’s maybe the feeling to triumph over all the others.

“I’m close, I’m close,” you chant, the hand on his back digging fingernail marks into his skin as the warm feeling in your core rises, threatening to explode.

He thrusts into you faster, his rhythm growing slightly sloppy. “Yeah? Let go for me, baby, let go, I’m right behind you.”

You cum, legs shaking around him and brows pinched as you stare up at him, while he watches you cum undone with an intensity behind his gaze that wasn’t there before. You say his name, over and over, trying to put all you want to say into just that one word. You hope it’s enough. You think it is. He gets you.

“I’m gonna cum,” he says, words cut off by a pant, as you feel the aftershocks of your own orgasm and the growing over-sensitivity. “You feel so good, baby, gonna cum so hard…”

You feel him spill into you as he cries out, his body collapsing over yours so his entire body is pressed against yours. You thread your fingers through his hair until he starts to come down from his high and rolls off you, his cock slipping out and you hiss at the slight friction.

“God…” he murmurs into the air. “That was so good.”

You giggle, twisting around and propping your head up with your hand so you can look down at him. “You say that every time.”

“It’s good every fucking time,” he says, a smile spreading across his face.

You poke his dimple and he tries to catch your finger with his mouth, biting the air playfully, but you pull it away. “You’re such a weirdo.”

He pouts for a second, but then his features soften. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You drop your head back down to the pillow, watching him stretch his arm out to turn off his bedside lamp. After a couple of swats at the switch, he finally manages it, and brings the same arm back over to drape over your body. It’s totally dark now. “Love you so much,” he tells you, kisses your forehead.

“Love you more. Goodnight, H. Sweet dreams.”

“Night, angel. Sleep well.”

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

hope you enjoyed -- let me know if u did, i like reading ur replies/tags !! i rlly loved writing this fic, it’s just so domestic and sweet and happy. the meditating and the to-do list (including the emailing !! ) is from the real harry. 

btw !! my ask box is open for requests & general chatter, so come say hi :D

[itsbeaconhillsbaby]

twenty-five and over || tom holland x reader

a/n: what is my work if not slightly belated! happy birthday tom, here’s a little something for you all to celebrate. I am trying to get round to reading and sharing some of the fics that I really love, try to create more love between creators and their work - hit me up with some of your favourite tom writers who I should check out! would love to hear from you! as always, stay safe and big love to you all xo 

word count: 1213 warnings: fluff fluff fluff unless you’re also having a quarter life crisis then this could be triggering (but all very playful) summary: your boyfriend, Tom, is stressed at the very idea of turning 25 and what this next stage of life means

“I’m old.”

You looked up blearily from the kitchen island where you were leaning, scrolling on your phone. It was early morning and you were still half asleep, the surprising warmth of the UK weather having kept you up all night.

“Tom, you’re not old.”

“I’m old.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes I am. Y’know they didn’t even ID me last night...I always get ID’d.” He mumbled into the couch cushions.

“You hate it when they ID you! Plus, you always forget your ID anyway.”

Your boyfriend was lying on his front, sprawled out on the sofa. His curly hair only just visible in amongst the cushions.

“That’s not the point, it’s the principle of it!” You could hear the deep sigh coming from the couch and put a hand over your mouth to stop from laughing. He’d been at this for the past 20 minutes or so.

“Y’know I now have to tick the ‘twenty-five and over’ box when I sign up to things? Like as if I didn’t feel bad about it already, now I get regular reminders?!”

“I mean, on the bright side...at least you’re not the ‘over’ just yet - because then we really would have a problem.”

You swiftly dodge a rogue cushion that was thrown in your direction, and watch as it hit the fridge before falling to the floor with a light thud.

“So what? You agree? You think I’m old too!”

He lifted his head briefly to scowl at you, before planting it face down into the cushions again.

You abandoned your phone on the counter, padding across the wooden floors in your socks and one of Tom’s oversized t-shirts. You kneel on the rug in front of the sofa and rest your chin on the edge.

“Oi, movie star.”

You talk softly, knowing that Tom was sporting a killer headache, his hangover being the very thing that had started this whole conversation.

He moved his head to the side to look at you, pouting.

“What?”

You reached out a hand, tangling your fingers through his soft brown curls placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“You’re being silly. You’re not old. But you are the birthday boy, who I might add, is in very high demand today.”

He sighs again, shifting around to lie on his back.

“Can’t I just stay with you?” He drawled out dramatically.

You laugh, as he moved up giving you space to sit on the edge of the sofa. You shake your head, hair falling out of the messy bun you’d put it in last night.

“Nope. You’ve gotta visit your parents before they leave for Scotland, plus Paddy will want to see you. And then you have golf booked with the boys. You love golf.”

“I don’t want to go. I’ll cancel and rearrange.”

He slid his arms around your torso, squeezing him into your side as he pulled you down to him. You laughed. You adored this side of Tom. He wasn’t so willing to show it off publicly, keeping your relationship away from prying eyes as much as possible but in private he was a massive soft touch, constantly craving affection and attention from you.

“No you won’t, you’ll love it when you’re there. You just have to survive without me until three.”

He mumbled his reluctant acceptance into your hair, his nose sliding down the side of your face as he nestled into you. Delicate kisses littered your eyebrow, then your cheek until he made it to your mouth.

“What was that for?”

“Because it’s my birthday, and I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You take a moment to just lie there, tangled together. You let yourself enjoy the clenched sun kissed muscles that were wrapped around you, as soft warm breaths exhaled against your cheek. If it were possible to stay like this all day you would. The curtains billowed in the tiny breeze that blew in, the large bay windows glistening with fragments of golden sunlight as the world slowly woke up.

You kept a hand playing with a coiled lock of his hair, twisting it through your fingers, watching Tom’s eyelashes flutter with sleep.

“C’mon Tom, before you fall asleep on me.”

You placed your own kisses on either side of his temples, then his forehead and along his slightly crooked nosed before regretfully sliding yourself out from his embrace.

He groaned at the loss of you. He covered his eyes with one arm, blocking out the bright sun and held the other out to you.

“I’m old, remember? Help me up?”

You laughed.

“Nice try hot shot, up you get.”

Closing his eyes and giving a deep sigh, he rolled dramatically off the sofa and to his feet.

“See,” you said cheerily, “an old person wouldn’t be able to do that as gracefully as you just did. And with a hangover too!”

You heard him mumbling to himself as he shuffled his way through the apartment, bedroom door shutting with a thud behind him.

////

“ - happy birthday dear Tom, happy birthday to you.”

You sung sweetly, placing the homemade cake with purple frosting on the table in front of Tom. He grinned up at you, tapping his knee and threading his fingers between yours as he pulled you into his lap.

“When did you make this?!”

He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, counting out the 25 flickering candles and admiring your handiwork as he traced patterns on your bare thigh. You’d just been for a romantic birthday dinner at one of Tom’s favourite Japanese restaurants in the city before coming back to yours for dessert.

You’d spent your afternoon manning your work phone whilst simultaneously baking a surprise birthday cake for Tom, piping out the happy birthday message in swirly blue icing.

“I love it. Thank you.” Tom went to blow out his candles when you quickly interrupted.

“Wait! You gotta make a wish.”

“What?”

“You have to close your eyes and make a wish.”

You watch as he closes his eyes, pauses for a couple moments and then leans forwards slightly, tightening his hands around your waist.

Opening his eyes, he blew out the candles, each one dancing above the melting wax before disappearing with an exhale.

“Do you wanna know what I wished for?”

He caresses your cheek with his hand, brushing a thumb across the light pink blush dancing across your cheekbones.

“If you tell me it won’t come true. How about I share something with you instead?

He gently tucked your hair behind your ear, tilting his head and brought his ear to your lips so you could whisper into it. Your eyes connected with each other instantly, stares intense.

“Oh really?” He questions, as your blush deepens.

Before you had a chance to realise what was happening, Tom stood up from the chair, scooping you up bridal-style as you clung to his shoulders and neck. You let out a slight squeal at the sudden movement before letting out peals of laughter.

“Where are we going exactly?” You ask, running a finger over some of the perfect buttery frosting, dolloping a smidge onto the end of his nose.

Nudging doors open with his hip, still cradling you to his chest, he made his way over to the bedroom, lightly depositing you into the middle of the king sized mattress.

“I’m going to show you what 25 really looks like.”