#i might do more with this au later and do some real art of it lol

[kiirschtein-archive]

⋆ 「 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢’𝐬 (𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞) 𝐦𝐨𝐦. 」 ⋆

feat. — toji fushiguro x f!reader, kid!megumi

word count. — 1.4k

content. — sfw, non-sorcerer au, established relationship (marriage), mostly just fluffy domestic stuff, reader is addressed as ‘mom/mama/mommy,’ toji’s kind of a bad parent but he’s working on it, brief mention of toji smoking (cigarettes), overprotective!toji, very minor suggestive themes (from toji 🙄 he’s a walking cw/tw)

notes. — idk. this has been incessantly on my brain pretty much from the moment i  woke up today, even to the point where i was writing half of this at  the laundromat lmao. mother’s day yesterday had me feeling some type of way, so here have some fun headcanons from a strange eldest daughter!!!! (i might end up doing a set of these for gojo x reader too 🤔)

⋆ 「 — he’s not your biological son, but you’ve been around since you started seeing toji when megumi was still a baby. but now, a few years later, you might as well be his real mother. you certainly act like it and feel like it, so toji gladly initiates the conversation about official adoption. it just makes sense. you eventually explain the situation to megumi as best as you can simply so that he doesn't grow up thinking he was lied to or anything of the sort, but as far as he's concerned, you're his mom whether it's by blood or not.

⋆ 「 — and oh, megumi’s a mama’s boy. i imagine he’s just a little bit of a healthier kid vs. canon given the better family situation, but he’s still always a bit of a grumpy baby, appreciating his autonomy and trying to be as self-sufficient and mature as he can be. but he’ll most certainly run to you when he needs help, is truly hurt, or just needing a bit of comfort. you’ve always treated him so softly and kindly with understanding, so he honestly feels more comfortable coming to you most of the time instead of his dad.

⋆ 「 — he likes the way you organize the bookshelf in his room or fold and sort his clothes in special little ways. he gets upset any time toji tries to put a book back in the wrong place or can’t figure out where his damn socks are. gumi will scowl and say, “that’s not where it goes.” or go deadpan and be like, “mom always keeps the socks in the bottom drawer.” disappointed that his father can’t even remember. toji just grumbles and says, “your mama’s gonna ruin you.”

⋆ 「 — has called you 'mom' basically since he was old enough, but don't let him fool you. megumi will drop the big boy act and come out with 'mama' or 'mommy' when something's wrong or he's really excited. he'll come to you with quiet tears and sniffles, a little ashamed that he's crying, but present to you a scraped elbow, "mama... it hurts." you clean up the scrape and explain to him the little medical details in a somewhat understandable way to help him focus on something besides the pain, and you tell him that it'll be okay, and that it's alright to cry. or on the flip-side, you and toji take him to the zoo, little gumi on his dad's shoulders, and he gasps and points excitedly, "look, mommy! look at the big elephant!" and it feels incredible to see him be so spirited.

⋆ 「 — along the lines of the art from this post and the thought i had about it earlier, just imagine that you're at some event (maybe like a birthday party or something), and toji's been hauling megumi around. they're both so over it at this point and are like 'please get me out of this' so as soon as toji walks past the obnoxious inflatable bouncy house, he smirks and just YEETS that kid inside without a second thought. after regaining his breath, megumi just looks at his father with the most EVIL little scowl as other kids bounce around him with smiles. by the look on that child's face you could've swore that his father had just done him the ultimate betrayal.

so gumi slides out and hurriedly makes his way over to where you're sitting off to the side, quietly climbing into your lap for a little bit of solace. he wiggles in close to your chest and you tuck him under your chin with a ‘come here, sweetpea,’ rocking slowly and humming something soft because he always seems to like it when you do.

toji comes over and you look at him through narrowed eyes. "kids are supposed to like shit like that," he says.

"you know he likes when things are more quiet," you respond, and toji rolls his eyes at how you seemingly spoil your son.

"just thought it might be good for him to try and get along with the other brats." toji tries to cover up the fact that he tossed his kid for the sheer personal enjoyment of it.

you huff in disbelief. "oh, like you get along so well with everyone?"

he scoffs and moves in behind you, leaning down to place a kiss on your neck. "i get along with you," he says almost suggestively.

you just keep stroking megumi's hair and give the top of his head a gentle kiss. "yeah, well not today," you say, shooting a smug, resolute smile towards your husband, ultimately taking his son's side.

⋆ 「 — outside of his alone time, megumi would honestly much rather be with you instead of other children. toji thinks it's probably unhealthy and you're inclined to agree, but you also don't want to force megumi into situations that will just make him miserable. so, when appropriate, you don't mind at all pacing around with him in your arms or have him walk next to you (maybe holding your hand if he’s not in a ‘big boy’ mood), teaching him about the things you see in the woods, the park, or even the museum. when toji's not away working, he'll join too because it admittedly makes his heart feel soft to watch you two together. it always has, because you've been doing this with megumi since he was a baby. it never gets old. if it wasn't already so difficult trying to figure out how to do things right by his son, he'd want you to give him even more babies.

⋆ 「 — megumi likes doing things with his dad sometimes too, though. toji tries his best to do it right and watch both his mouth and his temper. you like seeing them getting along, even if it's just quietly watching tv or a movie (probably a cartoon where toji gets kind of into and will ask the occasional question like "why does that one stupid chick keep doing that?" and megumi just shrugs like, "i dunno. she is pretty dumb.") or playing ball outside because gumi's starting to show some athleticism. but you have to remind toji that he can't always be so rough or competitive with games because megumi is literally a child.

⋆ 「 — toji can also be way too overprotective of you two at times. you'll be out and about and he'll just be wearing such an intimidating expression as he walks behind you both, on the lookout for anyone who might want to cause trouble or take the wrong sort of glance at his wife. he'll even snap at people for walking too close or like cutting in line or something petty, and you have to tell him stop acting like an attack dog and looking like the grim reaper because dear god you're literally just having lunch at the park. even at his age, megumi's just eating his ice cream and looking at his dad with his little baby deadpan expression and thinking "this man really needs to take a chill pill." other times he can be more relaxed, however, obviously confident in his ability to protect you. it depends on his mood. but that still doesn’t stop him from being embarrassing and going off on people in public if something happens.

⋆ 「 — you also know all of gumi’s favorite meals and snacks. it’s yet another one of those things where, if his dad does it wrong, megumi expresses a disappointment beyond his years. toji will be making and packing his son’s school lunch just as instructed by the notes you gave him, but it’s by no means as neat and meticulous as when you do it. toji’s got a cigarette hanging out of his mouth with furrowed, concentrating brows, his free hand shakily reaching for a cup of fresh coffee, and megumi’s standing there with his little backpack, criticizing his father the entire time. “mom doesn’t do it like that,” he says.

“well mom ain’t here right now. and it doesn’t matter how the sandwich is cut, is still tastes the damn same.”

gumi doesn’t even physically react, still wearing the same neutral expression, just waiting for his dad to hurry up. “mom says you shouldn’t smoke. and she also says not to use bad words.”

toji scoffs and then smirks. “well mommy uses all sorts of bad words you don’t even know about when her and daddy have play time.”

megumi’s already almost late for school and can barely feel his feet from how tight his dad tied his shoelaces. he also asks you later about “play time,” and you want to absolutely murder your husband over it.

[sanakiras]

BLOOM FOR ME

PAIRING — finance major!mingyu x law major!reader

WORD COUNT — 18.1k

SYNOPSIS — even though you and mingyu share the same friends, there’s a clear distance between you. when you make a drunken mistake, he suddenly becomes increasingly aware of your lack of a relationship with him, and he takes on the challenge of changing it — not expecting to fall for the ice princess who turns out to be less cold than he thought.

TAGS — college au, slice of life, strangers to fwb to lovers, angst, fem!reader, slowburn-ish, rollercoaster of somewhat unrealistic events, minor use of the fake dating trope, not proofread, explicit sexual content, inexpressive!reader, fear of intimacy, once again a fic that seemed better in my head than the finished product but idc!

♪ — pearly drops - bloom for me,, kid cudi - kitchen,, the fugees & ms lauryn hill - killing me softly with his song

NOTE — sooo this fic is pure self-indulgence because i wrote mc as a character very similar to myself! some of these scenes are based on my own experiences :D my personality type is intj which i incorporated a lot here, do with that what you will x

you and kim mingyu just don't work.

to be honest, you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who didn’t like him or get along with him. most people on campus either wanna be him or be with him — which makes sense, ‘cause he seems to have it all. he’s smart, talented, and awfully good-looking.

and in hindsight, you have no clue as to how or why you landed in his little clique a few months ago, which is composed of a bunch of guys who appear to have very little in common.

all you remember is how joshua, a pre-med student with a soft voice and a passion for playing guitar, introduced himself to you as you were both assigned to help out with student orientation week at the start of the new academic year, and the rest became history.

you’re not sure how he managed to wiggle his way into your personal life, or why he seems so goddamn keen to be there for that matter. the same goes for his friends — chan, seungcheol, soonyoung, minghao, seokmin and mingyu. you’re closest to joshua and seokmin, though you get along well with most of the group.

soonyoung is pursuing performing arts, and he’s loud — extremely loud. you like his sense of humor though. chan does theatre and has mentioned he wants to have his own dance studio later in life. seokmin also does theatre and is arguably the biggest ray of sunshine you’ve ever met. cheol is a business administration major, a great debater, has quite the fire in him, and he looks great in a suit. minghao is more reserved — a psychology major. very sweet and polite, likes to meditate and is surprisingly good at martial arts as well.

and then there’s mingyu.

he studies finance, though he’s considerably less obnoxious than most of the students who pursue said degree. from what you’ve gathered, he has quite the range of talents, which, in all fairness, is pretty impressive.

the guy might as well be the complete opposite of you. he’s popular, loud, outgoing, smiles a lot, known to have a real heart of gold. an entertainer.

you find yourself at the other end of the spectrum. much more on the quiet side, usually only speaking up if you deem it necessary with a sarcastic quip, more often skipping social gatherings than actually attending them.

yet in spite of your closed-off nature, the majority of people closest to you are extroverted, always trying to pull you with them in their adventures, though remaining respectful and understanding when you don’t come with — because that’s just the way you are.

perhaps that’s the sole reason why your relationship with mingyu can easily be described in a single word.

non-existent.

neither of you have anything against each other — it’s just that, out of the group, you seem to have the least of a connection with him. you certainly never do anything together or talk to one another when you’re not with the rest of the guys, and even during the moments you are, saying you’ve had a proper conversation with him would be an overstatement.

for the most part, aside from saying one-worded greetings and goodbyes, you pretty much just disregard the other’s existence.

or, well — that used to be the case.

because there’s this dirty secret the friend group doesn’t know about — and that’s that you and mingyu slept together.

it happened only a few weeks ago. it was supposed to be a simple, fun night dancing and letting loose at soonyoung’s party, which he hosted right after midterms were over. everyone got drunk, including you — way more drunk than usual, it was terrible — and the only thing you remember is waking up in a room you’d never seen before, a bed that definitely didn’t feel like the one you wake up in every morning, your clothes discarded on the floor, and his warm body next to yours.

had you been even the slightest bit sober back then, you absolutely wouldn’t have gotten into bed with him.

it’s not that you don’t find him attractive. on the contrary. he’s sex on a stick, with his strong arms, small waist, sharp jawline and beautiful tan skin — it’s no surprise he’s done several modeling jobs for some extra cash.

but despite all of that, casual hook-ups with people in your circle are not your thing. they’re not his either.

neither of you remember much of that night. you two are rarely ever alone together, so it’s practically been impossible to talk to you about it, and you’ve never been close enough with one another to even text or meet up.

after the incident, you just continued living your life like everything was the same as before. honestly, for the most part, it was.

but mingyu likes to take risks in life. that, and being open about his feelings is just who he is. so he wants to talk to you, privately.

when he finally does manage to catch you alone, which happens to be right after you’ve walked out of your criminal law class, you’re not exactly welcoming to him.

“what are you doing at the other side of campus?” is all you greet him with.

“i’m good, thank you for asking.” he jokes in an attempt to make things more light-hearted, but you don’t pull a single muscle, face remaining the exact same, so he swallows and clutches the strap of his shoulder bag a little tighter. “i, uh... i felt like we should talk about what happened the other night. soonyoung’s party.”

“what’s there to talk about?”

“what we did. together.”

“we fucked. so what?”

oh. that’s a much more blunt response than he expected, even if he is used to those kind of remarks from you.

“well—” he cuts himself off, really cursing himself for not properly thinking of what to say to you before showing up outside of your lecture hall all of a sudden, “don’t you think it’s something we gotta discuss?”

“you want a professional analysis about how much i enjoyed it or something?” you ask with a furrowed brow. “not that i’d be able to give you one, considering it was all just a blur.”

“yeah, i can’t exactly remember much of it either. look, i... i don’t usually hook up with people i’m friends with—”

“except we’re not friends. i don’t think you’ve ever said as much to me as you have in this conversation.”

even though it’s true, it does feel like a slap across the face for a reason he can’t pinpoint. he’s aware you can be blunt sometimes, but this is more than people usually get out of you.

“fine. we’re just acquaintances. but we do share the same friends.” he says after a moment of awkward silence, his tone sounding a little colder than before, subconsciously trying to compensate for your unwelcoming attitude. “doesn’t that matter to you?”

sucking at the inside of your cheek, you sigh. “did your roommate notice me?”

his roommate being jeon wonwoo, the cute computer science major who likes to spend his free time working out and playing video games, always walking around campus with headphones stuck in his ears and a pair of glasses up on his nose. he and mingyu are both on the football team, you’re pretty sure.

“no. he didn’t see a thing. not as far as i know, anyway.”

“good. so that means we can both just pretend it never happened, yeah?” the smile you put on your face is so painfully fake that it makes him clench his jaw.

“yeah.” he mumbles bitterly, and you move away from him, going down the stairs, and mingyu rests his head against the wall, huffing in annoyance and embarrassment.

to be completely honest, he’s not sure why the whole ordeal bothers him so much. what you said was all true, even if you could’ve worded it differently.

many, many questions pop up in his mind. do you have something against him? do you not like him? if that’s the case, why? has he ever said something that caused you to get a bad impression of him? what do his friends have that he doesn’t, aside from considerably shorter legs?

he’s not sure what it is about you he finds so weirdly intriguing, but whatever it is, he’s discovered a fresh determination in him to find out.

mingyu is unsure of how to handle the situation with you. every time you look at him, all he sees is utter disinterest, though there’s very little he can make out of your facial expressions in the first place.

he finds himself seated at a table in the library with minghao, seungcheol and chan, pondering over the exam he’s got coming up at the end of the week, said thoughts coming to a halt once he spots you at the other side of the hall.

his gaze involuntarily follows you as you appear to be scanning a few bookshelves.

if he’s being honest, he’d already noticed you before the drunk-sex incident. he always thought you were pretty, and based on your your vocabulary and the way you spoke, he figured you were intelligent as well, so he silently admired you from afar.

and now, those feelings have only increased.

his eyes linger on your figure. it’s such a fucking shame he doesn’t remember his hands on your skin, the touch of your lips — he could actually cry just imagining it.

then he feels he’s getting too far in the sexual innuendos in his head, so he tells himself to stop right the hell now before his excitement starts to show in his pants.

god, he’s never like this. why is it irking him so much?

it’s chan — the youngest of the group — who grabs your attention, beckoning for you to come over to the table.

when you move to sit down on the empty chair between him and seungcheol, they begin to talk about how the shitty assignments they’re working on are so not worth their time, how one of cheol’s professors didn’t bother showing up for his lecture yesterday morning, and minghao mentions something about a new group project of his—

—and the whole fucking time, you feel mingyu’s gaze burning on you.

it both confuses and intrigues you. what the hell does he want now?

then when two of the boys get into a discussion, you stare right back at him, almost as if to tell him you’re aware of him watching you and you’re watching him as well, and a very thick yet silent tension rises between you.

he swears he catches the smallest glimpse of amusement in your features before you get up and tell them you’ve got to go to your lecture.

cheol raises his thick brow at his friend. “you’re uncharacteristically quiet.”

mingyu shrugs as he watches you walk out of the hall. “yeah, sorry. been a little preoccupied.”

“i can tell, ‘cause aren’t you supposed to be starting football practice right now?”

that snaps him out of it. he checks the silver watch sitting on his wrist, cursing to himself before grabbing his things and hastily throwing them into his bag before sprinting to his dorm.

the following day, as he’s working on his assignment, he decides to take out his phone, typing your username into the search bar on instagram.

your social media profile is as mysterious as you are. zero posts, some pretty aesthetic pictures found in your highlights as well as one or two with you on it, though blurry or with your face partially hidden.

it’s usually much easier for him to get close to people, yet with this, with you — it feels like the way is blocked, and he doesn’t know where to start.

tapping his finger on the table, he tells himself to make some kind of conversation with you the next time he sees you.

which is several days later, when the friend group is meeting up at a restaurant for dinner and drinks.

by the time he arrives — later than planned due to a study session running behind — everyone is already seated, including you. he’d hoped to secure a spot next to you for once, but you’re seated between joshua and seungcheol instead. the only vacant spot is at the other side of the table.

well, shit.

the worst thing is that you don’t seem to spare him a single glance. every time he looks your way, you’re either zoned out or intently listening to the boys around you as they tell their stories, with you throwing in a sarcastic little quip every now and then, making them laugh.

what he doesn’t notice is that you do look at him — he’d be surprised by the amount of times your eyes wander back to him, subtly observing him from a distance when he rambles about something his professor did during class or what went down during football practice.

he’s so handsome that it almost gets annoying to look at him.

it’s an hour before midnight when you decide to get going — you have an unnecessarily early class tomorrow and still gotta get back to your dorm. so you grab your coat and bag, announcing you’re leaving, after which they say they don’t like the idea of you going back on your own, but you refute it and tell them you’ll be fine like always.

“i can take you. i just remembered i gotta catch up with some things anyways before class tomorrow.”

mingyu’s sudden statement makes you blink at him a few times.

it’s not that he’s never offered to take you home before, ever the gentleman, but the situation always ends up with you either going home on your own with them keeping an eye on your location or one of the other guys taking you back, so his sudden eagerness to escort you to your dorm catches you by surprise.

it’s mainly joshua and minghao who catch onto your slight change in demeanor, but their puzzled looks are gone as soon as they came. they’ve had quite a few drinks, after all, and you’re pretty sure soonyoung is so drunk he’s on the verge of tears at the other side of the table, distracting them.

both you and mingyu say your goodbyes to the rest of the group before exiting the restaurant, embracing the fresh air outside.

it’s early october, your favorite time of year. you’re fond of the cloudy skies, the temperature right between warm and cold, and the leaves changing colors.

mingyu walks next to you on the sidewalk, his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark denim jacket.

“i’m sorry for being rude the other day,” you speak up, breaking the silence, “i have a habit of being too straightforward for my own good.”

oh.

he didn’t expect this from you, but it’s a pleasant surprise, even if you’re not looking him in the eye at all.

so he shrugs. “it’s okay. looking back, i didn’t really know where i wanted the conversation to go, anyways.”

“i assumed you were just gonna ask me to keep it between us.”

“i didn’t even think about that, to be honest. i just don’t do stuff like that with friends, so... i guess i was just curious about your thoughts or something.”

you bare your teeth in a bitter smile, still refraining from looking in his direction when he’s clearly looking at your face. “you called me your friend again.”

the comment doesn’t sit right with him. “do you mind me asking why that bothers you?”

“it bothers me ‘cause it’s not the truth.”

god, you certainly do not sugarcoat things.

“do you... is there anything i did to make you dislike me?”

mingyu watches the way you clench your jaw at his question. it intrigues him. “i never said i disliked you, mingyu. i’m just picky about who i consider close to me and i don’t want anyone to get the wrong impression. sharing friends doesn’t make us friends.”

“not even a little bit?”

you chuckle again. he wonders what he’d have to do to elicit a real, genuine laugh from you. “name one of my hobbies. something i like to do in my spare time. the basics don’t count.”

he eagerly starts his sentence. “well, you like to... y’know... hang out with us.”

“i said no basics.”

“okay. fine. you got me. but, to be fair, you also gotta admit you don’t exactly share much.”

“you know who i do share things with? my friends.” you tease him, after which he laughs. you like the sound of his laugh.

“you’re evil.”

“thank you.”

he turns around, walking backwards in front of you so he can face you, finally getting the eye contact he’s been waiting to get. “i wanna be friends.”

“congratulations.”

“oh, c’mon. work with me here.”

“i would if it wasn’t so much fun to see you acting like this.”

mingyu feels a certain excitement rushing through his body when he sees how you look at him. “let’s get to know each other better. how about twenty questions?”

“oh, you mean like a conversation?”

he chooses to ignore your sarcasm for now. “i’ll go first. what’s a hobby of yours?”

“such depth,” you snicker, “i like to ice skate.”

“really? that’s cool.” he smiles, tilting his head. “okay. you gotta ask me a question now.”

“which of your friends is closest to you?”

yeah, he should’ve seen something like that coming. of course you wouldn’t go for small talk.

he ponders over the question before giving his answer. “minghao.”

“hm. interesting.” you just hum, clearly having no intention of explaining it, so you gesture for him to come up with another question.

“do you think you’ll ever be close with me?”

“no.”

“why?”

“not your turn.” you tell him, simultaneously trying to find out how far you can take this. “how many girls have you slept with?”

“four. why do you think we won’t ever be close friends?”

“because we’re too different. you can’t stand the fact that i give nothing away, i can sense it a mile from here.”

“it’s not that.”

“what is it then?”

“i’m… i don’t know, a people person. i want to get along with everyone, want everyone i like to like me. maybe that’s selfish, but… yeah. i like you and i wanna be your friend. it bothers me that you don’t.” he feels the words suddenly tumbling out of his mouth are taking the conversation elsewhere, so he tries his best to not come across as too intense. “i’m sorry for pestering you about it, i’ll just... walk you to your dorm and leave you be.”

he wants to increase the distance between you, but you don’t let him. your hand moves to his upper arm, touching him, but it’s gone before he can even look at it.

physical touch has never been one of your strong points, despite craving it at the same time. “i’m gonna say it one more time and that’s it — i don’t dislike you. maybe… i don’t know, maybe we could have a strong friendship, who knows. if you wanna prove me wrong, be my guest. i won’t stop you.”

“okay. anything i should know?”

you pout your lips as you think of things to mention. “i’m not a huge fan of texting. i prefer calling or meeting up in person. i’m more of a listener than a talker. i’m also a bit of a control freak so i’m not big on surprises. that’s all you’re getting for now.”

he thinks over your words and smiles. “i can work with that.”

not much later, you arrive at the university campus, and you use your card to enter your building, walking out front.

mingyu clearly feels it’s mandatory to follow you all the way to your door.

once you’ve arrived at your dorm, you lean against the doorpost. “thanks for taking me home.”

“you’re welcome. see you tomorrow.” he says. normally he’d give his friends something like a hug when saying goodbye like this, but he has a gut feeling you’re not very fond of physical contact with people who aren’t close to you, so he lets that go for now.

“bye.” the playful smile is audible in your voice before you close your door, and mingyu leaves your building with a sickeningly nice feeling in his stomach.

and he remains on your mind, especially once you watch him walk towards his own dorm from behind the window, unaware of your gaze.

it makes you scoff to yourself. you’ll give it to him — he’s sparked your interest.

“hey. mingyu.”

he’s roughly pulled from observing you in his secure spot in the university library by jeonghan, his partner for a project he’s working on. “what?”

“what’s going on? you’re awfully distracted.”

“it’s—nothing.” he responds, voice an octave higher. maybe he should quit this habit of looking at you every time he comes here.

“has anyone ever told you you’re a shitty liar?”

“many times, actually.”

“good. ‘cause you are.”

jeonghan is shorter than he is, with more of a lanky physique and slightly longer hair. he’s also the most annoying little shit mingyu knows — despite the guy being older than him — because he somehow. knows. everything. all the time. he knows things about mingyu before he knows them himself. if anything, it’s a talent.

“so who’s the girl?” jeonghan then asks in a more hushed tone, using his pencil to point at the girl in question.

mingyu looks in your direction again, taking notice of how nice you look today, and he just gives in to his friend, not even bothering to try and act stupid. “friend of a friend.”

“what does she do?”

“law.”

“she nice?”

“to a specific group of people, yeah.”

“oh, she’s a little mean to you, huh?”

“not mean. just distant. very distant.”

“that’s new.”

“what is?”

“you going for girls like that. it’s refreshing.”

“yeah, well—she doesn’t go for guys like me.”

“what do you mean?”

“i’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me at all. she’s wildly unimpressed by my presence, anyway.”

“how do you know?”

mingyu sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “she’s very close with joshua and seokmin, likes the rest of the guys too, but me… i don’t know. we’ve been in the same friend group for a year, and it’s like i’m the only one she doesn’t feel comfortable with. bothers me.”

“you’ve known her for a whole year and it’s only bothering you now?” jeonghan senses there’s more going on. “what led up to this? got into an argument?”

the younger of the two scoffs. “not at all. the contrary, actually.”

jeonghan jokingly throws in the first thing he can think of. “what, did you accidentally kiss her when you were drunk or something?”

“not entirely. we were both drunk, for starters.” mingyu comments, the next sentence muttered much more quietly. “and we had sex.”

a scoff of surprise leaves jeonghan’s mouth. “you slept together? when?”

“soonyoung’s party.”

“that was weeks ago. haven’t you talked about it? at all?” he asks, clearly invested in the story now.

“i brought it up, she brushed it off and said it meant nothing. told her i wanted to be friends with her a couple days later, but she said she doesn’t think we’ll ever be good friends ‘cause we’re too different, and it’s fucking killing me for some reason. she still said she was… open to friendship though.”

“ah, you like her.”

“yeah, obviously. problem is that she hates me.”

“no, i mean, you like her. you don’t just want to be her friend.”

mingyu is somewhat taken aback by his words. “i don’t have a crush.”

“don’t fool yourself. you’d never get this worked up over someone not wanting to be friends with you — you’re worked up because you wanna get to know her better and she doesn’t seem like she wants to get to know you at all.”

“i can’t be in love with someone i hardly know.”

“debatable. you still have a crush on her.”

“fine. whatever. say that were the case — purely hypothetical of course — what should i do to get her attention?”

jeonghan has that knowing smile on his face, the one that makes him look like he’s up to no good. “you gotta get a little selfish.”

“could you be a little less vague for once in your life?”

“create a circumstance where she spends time with you without it being planned.” he shrugs, as if that answers it. “something like getting stuck in an elevator for a few hours. you know what i mean.”

“well, unless you were planning on hijacking the elevator somehow, i don’t think i have all that many options.”

right there and then, the two recognize another student from their statistics class sitting a few tables further. she’s giggling to her friends about something, hesitantly looking their way, pointing at them.

“speaking of crushes, she’s got one on you.” jeonghan mentions, raising his brow.

it doesn’t interest mingyu all that much. “yeah, she asked me out a while back. i told her i was busy. didn’t have the heart to flat-out reject her. in hindsight, maybe i should’ve, ‘cause she acts like that every time i see her around.”

jeonghan can’t help but take advantage of the opportunity currently presenting itself like a fucking birthday cake. “are you thinking what i’m thinking?”

“probably not, since i have no idea what you’re getting at.”

he leans a bit closer to his taller friend, speaking in a more hushed tone this time. “you could reject her — subtly.”

mingyu frowns at that. “how?”

and jeonghan smirks a little to himself before he’s about to tell him his plan. “you’ve heard of fake dating before, right?”

the following day, you find yourself in the library of the law faculty, reviewing the slides of the lecture you didn’t feel like attending this morning.

someone drops their bag ever-so-subtly on the table at the empty spot next to you, and when you look up from your notes, you recognize your dearest acquaintance.

you huff, removing one of your earbuds to engage in the conversation you didn’t ask for. “what do you want?”

“you have got to stop saying that when you see me.”

“no, i like it this way.”

“of course you do.” mingyu merely scoffs at your words, sitting down next to you. “you look busy.”

“gee. it’s almost as if i am busy.”

“what’re you working on?”

“undoubtedly nothing you have any knowledge of.”

he rolls his eyes when you grin at him, clearly ready to dodge his questions with more of your sarcastic comments.

“are you always this much on edge?”

“mhm. i hope you are too — otherwise you’re taking up too much space.”

the comment has him frowning at first, and then he gets it, making him let out a vaguely impressed scoff. “you’re cute.”

“not exactly the word i would use.”

“really?” he says, taking the cap off his water bottle, “i think it suits you.”

you squint your eyes at him, finally taking the bait. “what do you want? seriously.”

he shifts in his seat, clearly happy you’re finally going along with him here. “you know the senior gala on thursday, right?”

“yeah. i’m not attending.”

“okay. here’s the thing — i kind of have this girl in one of my classes who won’t stop bothering me about going out on a date with her and stuff.”

“gosh, poor you.”

“i’m serious. it sucks.”

“what does this have to do with you bothering me?”

“well, i figured if she finally saw me with someone else, she’d back off.” he explains, leaning a bit closer to you. “meaning i need a plus-one who’s willing to play my girlfriend for the night.”

“so?”

“so, i’d like you to be my plus-one.” he grins.

“why?”

“why not?”

“you’re saying you wanna pretend to be dating?” you ask, and when he nods, you shake your head. “no one’s gonna believe that.”

“yeah, they will. it’s perfect. same friend group, completely different majors so she probably doesn’t know you — c’mon, consider it.”

he’s surprisingly convincing, as if he already knows how to crack your demeanor. you remain stubborn, though. “out of all the girls you’ve got in your contacts, you’re asking me?”

“you’ve made it clear we’re only acquaintances — i wanna change that. become friends. just like i told you.”

you finally lock eyes with him again, taking your pen away from the paper, refusing to back down once you notice how close he is. “i don’t know what you’re expecting, but you’d get nothing out of a friendship with me.”

he keeps his eyes on yours. “i’ll be the judge of that.”

when you roll your eyes at him, he can tell you’re considering it. “when does it start?”

“ten.”

“dress code?”

“go for a cocktail dress.”

twisting your lips, you push your tongue against the inside of your cheek, and even you are a little weak for those big, brown eyes of his. and you said you’d give him a chance, after all. “fine.”

“great!” he nearly jumps in excitement. “text me when you’re ready and i’ll come and pick you up.”

“yeah, yeah. now go. i got shit to do.”

and once you’ve watched him cheerfully skip out of your sight, the tiniest smile rises to your face, after which you chuckle to yourself.

mere days later, on thursday, mingyu finds himself at your doorstep. it’s not like him to feel nervous — so why the hell is he this time?

you open the door hastily. “hey. you can come on in, i’m all ready except for the pair of earrings i can’t seem to find.”

he watches as you search through small drawers in the cupboard by the wall. maybe he should be glad you’ve got your back faced to him, because he’s subconsciously staring at you, checking you out.

the velvet red one-shoulder dress hugs your features just right, and he’s stunned in his place before you notice he still hasn’t closed the door behind him. “mingyu. the door.”

“uh—yeah. sorry.” he stumbles, stepping inside, doing as he’s told before his eyes wander around your room. “don’t you have a roommate?”

“i used to have one, in my first year. got a single room after.”

“must get quiet after a while.”

“i like it that way.”

your words remind you of his roommate, wonwoo. he figures you’re someone who prefers solitude after a day of being around others, which he keeps in mind.

once you’ve found your earrings, you’re putting them in, and you notice him stepping closer to you. he actually looks criminally good in the black suit he’s wearing, his half-long hair sitting just right. the fucker might as well be a real-life prince charming.

you’re glad you went with smokey eyes. your look compliments his.

as you subtly watch him in the mirror, he comes to stand behind you, holding out the modest bouquet of red roses he’s been holding behind his back. “these are for you. i appreciate that you wanted to come with me tonight.”

the gesture makes your eyes soften. “thank you. oh, they smell nice.”

mingyu feels a little giddy inside when you give him a little smile before putting the flowers in a vase with water. it might be the first time he’s seen you give one that is genuine.

the gala is taking place at a fancy hotel close to university. the walk there only takes a few minutes. once you're nearing the entrance to the party, dimly lit chandeliers catching your eye, he gently puts his hand on your back, just underneath your shoulder blades. you raise a brow, looking over at him, and he shrugs. “i’m your fake boyfriend for the night, remember?”

which has you chortling for a second. “that’s not where to put your hands if you wanna make this believable.”

before he can change the position of his hand, you’re already doing it for him, pushing his hand lower with yours, watching the way his face drops when you allow him to go lower than your hips, breath hitching in his throat.

“that’s better. you can hold me and kiss me on the cheek if you have to. not too much, it’s not the right time and place for it anyways.”

“noted.”

once you’ve arrived inside and given your coats away, you notice most people here are strangers to you, anxiety kicking in, internally wishing you’d consumed some alcohol before coming.

and your companion takes notice of this from the way you’re suddenly squeezing his hand, which you’re undoubtedly not doing on purpose.

“you okay?”

“sure, i’m fine.” you faintly smile back at him.

he’s honestly considering saying fuck it, ready to ask you to just get out of here with him and go anywhere else instead — that is until one of your friends comes up to you.

“am i imagining things—”

“we’re fake dating, josh.” you answer him, increasing the distance between you and mingyu as if to emphasize your point. “his idea, not mine.”

joshua appears all kinds of confused. “okay. um… just—why?”

mingyu presses his lips together. what he said about the girl bothering him was all true. could he handle it on his own? probably. is fake dating slightly unnecessary and a little dramatic of a solution? undoubtedly.

but he just wanted you as his plus-one so bad. he saw it as an opportunity he couldn’t miss out on.

what can he say? jeonghan is weirdly persuasive.

“there’s this classmate of mine who won’t get off my back about dating, so i figured she’d quit if i showed up with a girlfriend. girlfriend being her.”

in spite of the explanation, joshua still looks at the two of you with a frown. “right.”

“i’m gonna go get us a drink. be right back.” mingyu says, almost regretting doing so when he realizes he has to take his hand off your back.

you watch him walk off to the bar, suddenly hearing your best friend chuckle softly next to you. “can’t believe i never considered you two before.”

“what are you talking about?”

“you and him. you’d be a nice match.”

“what, me and mingyu? we’d be a disaster.”

“why?”

“we’re too different, josh. and don’t even try to give me that opposites attract crap.”

his soft facial features melt into a smile that gives off the impression he knows something you don’t. “i think you’d be surprised. that’s all.”

whatever the fuck that means.

your fake boyfriend returns not much later with a drink for the two of you. despite your clear disagreement with joshua’s words, you just can’t help but think about what he said, especially when mingyu’s arm remains looped around your waist for quite a while as the three of you discuss the whereabouts of your friends.

the worst thing is that you don’t even mind him touching you. you’ve always been picky when it comes to the people who are allowed to as much as stand close to you, and mingyu was not one of those people until you grabbed his wrist after he took you home from dinner, which was only last week.

and that’s not the only thing you’re becoming increasingly aware of.

mingyu’s popularity is a bigger thing than you thought. either that, or half the people here are from his faculty. which is highly unlikely.

being as observant as you are, you’ve noticed several girls as well as guys pointing your way, making you feel uneasy.

so your hold on him tightens as you stare back at them, as if to silently tell them to fuck off and focus on someone other than your fake boyfriend.

you’re not actually jealous. no, that’d be ridiculous. you can’t be jealous of others wanting something you don’t even have in the first place.

chan and seokmin arrive half an hour later, having pretty much the same reaction to the situation as shua. but they play along.

though not without noticing how comfortable the two of you are together.

after several hours of drinking, dancing and socializing, you feel in need of a break. “hey, i’m just gonna get some fresh air outside, okay?”

mingyu’s lashes flutter as he nods. “would you mind if i came with?”

you gesture that you’re okay with it, so he takes your hand to guide you through the mass of people without losing you, the littlest of touches sparking an indescribable feeling in your stomach.

the air feels much colder now that you’ve been inside the warm hotel for several hours. you sigh, leaning back against the brick wall behind you, the surface feeling slightly uncomfortable on your one uncovered shoulderblade.

mingyu takes fake dating very seriously, as it seems. he’s practically been unable to keep his hands off you, and you’re going to indulge in it for however long it lasts.

as you’re standing outside together, you notice he’s loosened up more around you, not hesitant to get close either. he’s certainly not afraid to put his hand on your thigh, and you make zero effort to push him away.

his lips ghost by the skin of your neck, alcohol clouding his thoughts. “it’s nice to have you here. i wasn’t all that excited about going at first.”

“yeah, yeah. i made your night ten times better.”

he snickers. “you hear that often?”

“every now and then. don’t sound so surprised.”

“it doesn’t surprise me. i was just hoping i was special compared to the others.”

“doesn’t everyone?”

“you’re a little cryptic, anyone ever told you that?”

“maybe.” you respond, chuckling, allowing his lips to touch your bare skin.

mingyu bites his lower lip, not afraid to look you in the eye to match your playful gaze with a similar one. “do you not remember a single thing from the night of soonyoung’s party?”

he almost smacks himself for asking the question, seeing your expression falter a little. “no. neither do you, as you’ve told me.”

“no, i don’t,” he says firmly, mentally trying to slap himself for consuming so much alcohol that it makes him say things he usually wouldn’t, “but i kinda wish i did.”

“why?”

when he remains quiet, still trying to figure out the best way to respond, you gently take a hold of his chin to lift it up, making sure he keeps his eyes on yours. playing with him is fun.

“i...” he tries to utter the words, but god, he might as well be hypnotized.

before he can give his answer, seokmin loudly stumbles out of the building, catching your attention. he’s clearly had a bit too much to drink, his boisterous laughter echoing through the courtyard. seungcheol follows closely behind, a hand on his shoulder.

whatever moment you and mingyu were having is gone in an instant. cheol spots you, keeping his friend somewhat upright in the process.

“i’m gonna go take him home, couldn’t find the other guys. i think soonyoung might be next, though.” he says, doing his best to keep seokmin upright in the process.

so mingyu nods. “okay. i’ll go check.”

they say their goodbyes, after which he proceeds to looks at you again. you let your head rest against the wall again. “you go ahead. i’ll meet you back inside in a few.”

he silently agrees, returning to the people inside. you appreciate the silence, mentally drowning out the sound of people talking and cars driving into the background.

it’s then that some girl you’ve never seen before walks up to you. “hey. you’re mingyu’s new girlfriend, right?”

the crease between your brows becomes apparent. “have we met?”

“no, no. i’m in the same faculty as him. i was just curious. didn’t know he was dating anyone.”

she’s clearly had a bit to drink, though not enough for her speech to be incoherent. you’re not sure what to give her other than an awkward smile that looks anything but genuine.

but either she’s too far gone to catch the hint or she simply doesn’t want to. “was kinda surprised to see him end up with a girl like you.”

and since she’s probably not gonna remember this conversation tomorrow, you decide to engage in it for once. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know, ‘s just... you seem a little distant. just different. he’s never really gone for someone like you. no offense or anything.”

you keep your composure despite a certain emotion brewing hot inside you, whatever the hell it may be. the sheer audacity of some people to stick their nose in business that’s not their own. “gee. hard to fathom i landed a guy like that, huh?”

the sarcasm dripping from your tongue finally seems to get it through to her that her opinion is anything but wanted, so she mumbles something about going back inside, after which you lean back against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment.

worst thing is that she’s probably right.

you and mingyu just don’t work.

and you don’t even have feelings for the guy, so why does it bother you?

the whole thing upsets you enough for you to go back inside, rushing to find him to tell him that you don’t feel like staying.

when you return to him, he’s so used to his role that his hand finds your waist and his lips touch your cheek, but you smoothly back away this time. “i’m gonna go back to my dorm. you guys have fun.”

even over the noisy music and chatter in the background, he notices the change in your tone and behavior, which gives him the hint that something has upset you. “why? is everything okay?”

“i’m fine.”

“i’ll take you back.”

“i’d appreciate it if you didn’t.” you tell him, sounding harsher than intended. again. god, you keep messing up. you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose for a moment. “i’m sorry.”

mingyu is still processing your words as you’re leaving him behind.

then when you’re walking towards the exit, a girl accidentally bumps into you, spilling her drink over your dress.

goddamn. you wonder what the fuck you did to the universe for it to give you a night as shitty as this.

she begins to profusely apologize, very obviously sincere, but you just curtly tell her it’s fine, annoyance rising.

mingyu notices the situation from afar, deciding to go after you when he sees you walk to the bathroom instead of the exit.

the bathroom is awfully fancy, but it seems only fair for a hotel like this. clenching your jaw, you grumble while getting some paper towels, hiking the dress just a bit upwards.

god, you’re never agreeing to do that fake dating shit ever again. what a joke.

you huff as you keep trying to get the now barely visible stain out of your dress. you’re rubbing over the fabric on your thigh when someone walks in.

of course it’s him.

“any luck getting it out?” he asks, and you clench your jaw, throwing the wet paper towels into the trashcan beside the sink. your hands hold onto the cold surface, knuckles growing white as you focus on them instead of him.

“why am i here?”

“what do you mean?”

you turn your gaze to him, abandoning your quest of getting the stain out of your dress, annoyed that he’s acting like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “why did you invite me here? out of everyone you could’ve gone with, why did you wanna go with me?”

“are you angry at me?”

“answer the question.”

“i just…” he trails off, trying to think of the right words. “i just figured it was a way to become friends.”

you’re actually going to lose your shit if he as much as utters the word ‘friend’ to you one more time. “oh, jesus. cut the bullshit. why do you wanna be friends with me so badly?”

“i don’t know, because… because it occurred to me — y’know, after the party, after what we did — that we have little to no relationship and i wanted to change that.”

“oh, right. you just had to sleep with me before thinking of that.”

“no, i didn’t. i just haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night, and i—”

what the hell is he even supposed to say? he’s not even sure what exactly it is he wants from you. sure, he wants to be friends — but god, he spends so much time wishing he remembered what it was like to touch you that night, what you looked like underneath your pretty little dress, what you sounded like.

you’re quiet for a second before your whole demeanor changes, agitation shifting to intrigue. “so that’s what this is about.”

“well—what?”

“if you wanted to fuck, you should’ve just said that. instead of dragging me to this shit.”

“i—” he suddenly feels suffocated by the small size of the room and your body getting closer to his, backing him up against the door. “that’s not why i—”

“does it matter?” you ask, and he tries to hide his ragged breathing now that you’ve pressed your front against him, clenching his jaw.

it doesn’t help that you’re watching him like a hawk.

“not to repeat myself all the time, but i—i normally don’t do this with friends. i don’t want you to have the wrong idea of me.” he exclaims, cursing himself for looking down at the way your red dress is accentuating your curves so well.

so you begin to unbutton his shirt, and he breathes heavily because of it. “well, i guess you’re in luck. ‘cause we’re not friends.”

he’s about to tell you that he genuinely wants to be when you finally kiss him. it’s fast and intense and hungry.

whatever he expected, it wasn’t this — but he can’t find it in him to not give in.

his hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you closer, then proceeding to help you with unbuttoning his shirt, all without breaking the kiss.

mingyu shivers when your cold hands finally touch his bare chest, the faintest hint of your sharp nails nearly making him beg for you to dig them into his skin until he bleeds.

there’s a shift in control when his feet no longer feel locked in with the tiled floor, his hands trailing up your legs, fingers gripping the skin of your thighs. he lifts you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist, only to have him pushing you up against the door, pressing his body against yours.

you’re rubbing your front against him, taking notice of the hard bulge in his pants, nearly crying out from his sheer size.

holy shit. no wonder you were sore after you slept with him — he’s fucking huge.

“gyu,” you break the kiss, “can i suck you off?”

the way you breathily call him by his nickname for the first time is nearly enough for him to bust in his pants. “wanna taste you instead. please?”

with your back resting against the surface behind you, you watch him as he sinks to his knees, kissing the inside of your legs, goosebumps erupting on your skin.

“are you sure?”

“yeah. please let me.”

“okay. just make it quick.”

in hindsight, maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say.

because he’s diving in faster than you can comprehend, lace panties pulled down in less than a second, making you gasp in surprise. your fingers grab onto a few strands of his hair, accidentally tugging on them, only to have him moaning in response, which is most likely the best thing you’ve ever heard.

your teeth sink into your lower lip as a way to suppress your moans, only deeps hums and groans escaping you, much to mingyu’s annoyance, because he wants to hear you.

his fingers slide into your dripping wetness, your muscles tightening up from the sudden intrusion. he looks up at you while kissing the inside of your leg, a sight that’s so fucking hot that you have to tell yourself not to get lost in it.

another surge of adrenaline rushes through you when he spreads your legs even wider, causing you to let out a broken moan, much to his satisfaction.

“you can pull on my hair. i like that.” he breathes out with a genuine smile and lust-blown eyes, refusing to wait for your reaction and getting right back to what he was doing.

it doesn’t take him long before he’s got you squirming above him. tugging his hair really does get him going, but you’re nearly at your limit, feeling the familiar feeling building up in your lower belly.

“gyu—fuck, ‘s too much, too much—” you try to push his wrist away and make him look up at you again.

you swear you might lose it when you see he’s actually pouting over the fact that you’re pulling him away from something he clearly enjoys doing.

“but, baby, i wanna make you cum.”

the pet name turns you on even more. “you can. i just want you inside of me, right now.”

he’s rising to his feet, towering over you with his tall frame as you push him back against the door, kissing his jaw, neck and collarbone while undoing the buttons of his white shirt.

mingyu is surprisingly vocal, which you thoroughly enjoy. his lips find yours again, relishing in the remaining taste of you on his tongue.

“god—want me to fuck you?”

pulling your dress over your head, you’re left in your matching set of lingerie that you just so conveniently put on tonight. “are you seriously asking me that right now?”

“fine. bend over the sink, then.”

the difference in his tone and words makes you shiver with excitement. once you do as he says, a new shot of adrenaline courses through your body — because you completely forgot about the mirror that’s now right in front of you.

so you’re able to watch him push his pants down, positioning himself behind you. his big hands are warm on your skin, the silver ring on his finger making you shiver.

his shirt is half unbuttoned, his hair a mess, trousers down to his ankles — but none of that matters now that he’s got you bent over in front of him, fingers trembling in excitement as he takes the condom from his pocket to slip it on.

all he can do is hiss and groan when he feels your heat wrap around him so nicely as he pushes into you. “you’re so tight, jesus—”

you huff. “not my fault you’re so big.”

it makes him laugh and simultaneously turns him on. “you’re all bite, even when i’m trying to fuck you.”

“don’t act like you don’t like it.”

he then finally bottoms out, both of you moaning, and he chuckles. “never said i didn’t.”

god, he’s so fucking attractive. he bites his lower lip as he throws his head back, his strokes slow but hard.

his girth feels so good inside you — and his touches are electric on your skin. his hands go from your ass to your hips, your stomach, everywhere.

and he’s certainly not afraid to get loud. especially when he feels you’re pushing your hips back against his. he’s convinced this is what heaven feels like.

“gyu, a little harder, please.” you plead, slightly beginning to struggle with holding yourself up by the edge of the sink.

“how hard d’you want it?”

“as hard as you want. i can take it.”

he gestures for you to turn over, lifting you up and pushing you up against the wall, burying himself inside you again before you can even comprehend it.

his fingers feel almost painful on your thighs with the way he’s digging into your skin. he’s sucking and biting right above your collarbone, leaving some pretty marks that will definitely be visible tomorrow.

you push his jaw upward so you can kiss him, and he sighs into it, tilting his head to get better access.

it’s like he’s trying to match his thrusts with your heartbeat at this point. pressure builds in your stomach when you whine his name. “oh my god—gyu—”

“i love it when you call me that,” he breathes out, so into it that he’s confessing everything on his mind, “you don’t know how much i’ve thought about this — been fantasizing about this for ages.”

you hold onto his shoulder blades, nails digging into them. “then you better make it worth my while.”

“such a brat.” he teases, a moan slipping out right after when you use your legs wrapped around his waist to push him deeper into you.

mingyu’s stamina is admirable — but he’s a simple man. you’re so hot and you just feel so good around him, and he knows he’s getting close to his release already.

you notice his pace becoming slightly uneven, his breaths erratic, a layer of cold sweat forming on his back.

he’s doing his best to hold out for you, to make you hit your peak first, but you actually need to see him come undone first.

“are you gonna cum, gyu?”

you have to refrain from biting your lip when he’s stuttering out a response. “n—no, not yet—”

“i want you to.”

“jesus, don’t say that—”

oh, he’s cute. he’s responding so well to your words, so you indulge in it a little bit more.

“wanna fuck me again later? without a condom? you can cum inside me. i’ll let you do anything you want.” you tease — your words being the complete truth, because if he’d want to fuck you again, you’d sure as shit let him.

his brows scrunch upwards while he lets out another whine. “anything?”

“mhm,” you nod, “anything.”

his fantasies about you, the way you’re looking at him, the things you’re saying, the way you suddenly clench around him — it’s all too much. his release spills into the condom, his muscles flexing from the sudden rush of adrenaline shooting through him.

it’s enough to make your legs tremble, and you reach the climax you’ve been aching for.

he’s still coming down from his high, face buried in the crook of your neck when he hears you chuckle. “so much for being friends, huh?”

he then smiles as well. “are we close enough for you to consider me as your friend now?”

“you’re quite literally inside me.”

“knowing you, that doesn’t really have to change anything.”

“oh, is that so?” you retort at his cheekiness. “sure. you’ve made it to friend level 1. congrats.”

“great. level 2 is next, then.”

“god, forget i said anything.”

“no going back now. you’re stuck with me.”

something’s very clearly changed between you since that night. mingyu has, in a certain way, changed your relationship.

because you’ve successfully upgraded from strangers to fuck buddies.

and truth be told, he wants to rip his fucking hair out.

the sex is great. there’s something thrilling and exciting about your secret relationship, both of you skipping lectures and sneaking away after classes with no one around you having a single clue.

and yet he’s come to the conclusion that this isn’t what he wants.

he wants you. all of you, completely. but every time he tries to get even remotely close to you, you somehow manage to dodge it and change the topic.

it bothers him. but he’s scared to just put all his feelings on a platter — because he doesn’t want to lose whatever he has with you.

something he’s also discovered is how utterly weak he is for even the slightest bit of your attention, the smallest of touches.

so when he’s typing away at his laptop in the study hall, noticing the screen of his phone light up as a message from you comes in, he can’t bring himself to ignore it.

20:23: you look cute when you’re focused

the message makes him frown, and he looks around, trying to figure out where you are, since you’ve clearly got your eyes on him.

so he texts back.

20:24: i always look cute ;)

tapping his fingers on the table, he waits for your response. the three buttons that indicate you’re typing suddenly go away, and he pouts, only to then be greeted by your voice close to his ear. “bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”

“fuckin’—” it almost makes him jump and screech out of shock. “christ, don’t sneak up on me like that.”

you chuckle at his high-pitched reaction. “bad conscience?”

“no. you’re just scary.”

“thank you.” you grin with pride, moving to sit on the table, right beside his laptop. “you busy?”

“just going over some older lecture notes to prep for an exam.”

“wanna come over to my dorm?”

“fourth time this week. what’s gotten into you? well, aside from me, obviously.”

“hilarious. really.” you remark, watching him laugh at his own joke, unable to help the smile rising to your cheeks. “what can i say? it’s a great stress reliever.”

“i know. give me a sec and i’ll pack my things.”

as he closes up his laptop and textbooks, you look around the other tables — which are mostly empty, except for the one by the window, which is where you notice a girl shooting you a bit of a weird look once you make eye contact with her.

“mingyu.”

“hm?”

“the chick by the window with the shitty earrings. you know her?”

he subtly looks into the direction of said window, recognizing the girl from his advanced statistics class. “yeah, i have a class with her. can’t really remember her name though. why?”

“she likes you.”

“oh.” he just shrugs, continuing to zip up his bag, standing up from his seat. “i didn’t notice.”

“sure.” you chuckle sarcastically.

that makes him raise a brow. he feigns shock, causing you to look at him.

“what?”

“you’re jealous.”

“excuse me?” you monotonously ask, brows furrowing in disdain.

“it’s actually kinda hot.”

“oh, please. i have nothing to be jealous of.”

“and yet you are.”

“either you shut your ass up or i’ll find someone else to relieve my stress, kim.”

he laughs and you roll your eyes. then he slings his bag over his shoulder, his hands in his pockets as he follows you out of the study hall.

as soon as you’ve entered your dorm room, he’s got you pressed against the wall, nipping at your skin. he makes you feel sickeningly good, putting your former boyfriends to shame — you’re certainly not complaining.

once he’s done with you and you’re completely worn out, you lay with your head on his chest, his fingers softly stroking your naked back.

you seem more on edge than usual today. less playful. tired, even. his voice sounds hesitant when he speaks up. “is everything okay? you look stressed.”

“i’m fine.”

he figures you either don’t want to open up or you simply don’t feel comfortable doing so with him, so he chooses not to pry, opting to let you know he’s there for you. “okay. well, if you need anything, someone to talk to, you can always come to me.”

you frown a little. refusing to act impulsively, you swallow your words, not saying a thing.

mingyu takes your silence as his cue to leave you be. a feeling of unease creeps into his body, and the room suddenly feels smaller than before.

so he gently moves away from you, sitting up to put his clothes back on. “i should probably go. wonwoo will be pissed off if i don’t have the kitchen cleaned up once he gets back.”

he’s buttoning his jeans when you speak up behind him, admitting your reasons for feeling more stressed than usual. “i’ve got two exams next week. they’re extremely important, i have to pass them, i just… i can’t focus for some reason.”

when he turns around, you’re not facing him. he leans against the tabletop, looking at you. “anything in particular that’s bothering you?”

“i don’t know. it’s just…” you shrug your shoulders a little, unsure of how to explain it, “i guess i haven’t been feeling great in my own skin lately, even though i don’t actually have a reason for it.”

“maybe i can help you study. could work as a nice motivator.”

“gyu—” you chuckle a little to reject him politely, but he sees it coming at this point, persisting.

“why don’t we just try it? if you don’t feel like doing it again, then, fine. we can always just restrict our activities to solely physical stuff again.”

“do you even have the time to help me?”

he’s smiling, able to tell you’re thinking about it. “are you kidding? i can do anything.”

“always so humble.”

“yeah, that’s why you like me so much.” he laughs. “that’s why i’m your friend.”

“whatever makes you sleep at night.”

mingyu wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to help you, nor when he mentioned he wanted you two to be closer.

he’s putting in effort to make you like him, that’s for sure. buying you coffees and snacks, offering to study with you whenever you mention difficult topics you have to cram for exams — he’s certainly establishing his presence in your daily life.

and you hate how easily you get used to it.

for whatever reason, you haven’t had sex since that day either. you’re pretty sure he wants to prove that he likes you for you and not just your body.

which is sweet. but you also have needs, and they’re worse now, knowing he can fulfill them extremely well, as he’s proved many times at this point.

so you text him to ask if he wants to come over later.

as he’s seated at a picnic table on the campus square, he notices your text, grabbing his phone to respond to you.

“your girlfriend texting you again?”

mingyu looks up at joshua, who’s sitting across from him with a pen in hand. he shakes his head. “not my girlfriend.”

“she might as well be.”

“she doesn’t like me enough to be.”

shua wouldn’t call himself nosy, but he’s determined to get a better idea of what exactly is going on between you. “what’s up with you and her?”

“it’s complicated.” his friend responds, eyes narrowing from the rays of sunlight. “i’m not even sure, honestly.”

joshua has this ability to pry people’s hearts open and let their feelings pour out without breaking a sweat — how easily he does it should be studied.

“are you friends with benefits or something? situationship?”

ironically, those words are the complete opposite of what you and him are. mingyu huffs out of frustration, voicing his thoughts. “she doesn’t like it when i call her my friend, she appears to have an exceedingly low daily quota of emotions, i’m busting my ass off to get my own assignments done and spend as much time with her as i can and i’m pretty sure she doesn’t even like me. at all. worst part being that i like her, shua. i like her.”

“have you told her you like her?”

“sort of. in a friendly way. she just glared at me.”

joshua finds mingyu’s inner torment a little amusing, but he feels for him. “maybe she’ll warm up to you. give it a while, she’s a tough nut to crack.”

“is she open with you?”

“sort of. i don’t think there’s a single soul out there she’s completely open with.” he sucks on the inside of his cheek for a second. “she has mentioned in the past that she’s actually very sensitive but just doesn’t, like, really express it. and you gotta keep in mind that people show love and affection differently. give it time.”

mingyu takes a breath as he thinks over the words.

give it time.

which he does. he notices you’re gradually getting closer to him over the course of time, still not showing too much — but it feels different. you choose to sit with him more often than not when you meet up with the other guys, you’re spending a lot of time with him, and you’re showing initiative to make time for him. every time he lands in your bed, it feels more intimate than ever.

you’re starting to make him feel like he matters to you. his crush on you is getting out of hand to the point he needs to stop himself from gazing at you every time you look him in the eye.

just like right now. you’re smiling at him over something he can’t remember — it’s a genuine smile, he cherishes those every time you flash him one as they’re rare — and you just look so pretty.

a text message from one of the guys on the football team pulls him out of it. which sparks an idea in him.

“hey, i have a football game coming up this saturday. do you wanna come? you could finally see me in action.” he asks. when he notices the puzzled look on your face, he tilts his head. “oh, come on. friendship works both ways, you know that, right? team effort and all that jazz.”

his wording makes you chuckle. “fine. i’ll be there.”

“you won’t regret it. our team is great.”

“really? then you better prove it. can’t be cheering for the losing team.”

with a raised brow, he points at you. “wanna bet?”

“what do you have in mind?”

he considers his options for a moment. “if my team wins, i get to choose what we do in bed next time. as long as you’re into it too, obviously. if the opposite team wins, you get to choose.”

now that’s an offer you’re certainly not gonna reject. taking on the challenge, you nod. “alright. deal.”

he shakes your hand ever so professionally, gathering his books since he needs to get to class. “oh, and, just so you know — my team’s won regional championships for the past two years in a row. i’m just saying.”

you tilt your head. he winks at you before walking away from the table, and you smile to yourself.

damn that asshole for making you like him this much.

saturday arrives, and you find yourself walking by the green football fields, surprised by the amount of people who showed up.

mingyu mentioned he was heading here earlier so you just told him you’d be there, sitting with the crowd.

it seems like it’s going to be a cold-weather match today. it’s already dark out, and the rain just started coming down from the sky. you’re glad the bleachers come with shade canopies so at least you won’t be soaked by the time the game is over.

your eyes are fixed on mingyu’s back as he stands by the sidelines with the rest of his team, enthusiastically discussing what’s most likely gonna be their strategy for the game.

then he turns around, still very engaged in the conversation, the wet strands of his hair framing his facial features. gosh, he’s incredibly handsome.

before running out onto the field, he looks back at the bleachers, scanning the masses before his eyes lock with yours.

he ever so dramatically makes a little heart with his fingers, teasingly motioning it towards you, and you put your middle finger up, making him laugh.

mingyu’s a real sweetheart, you have to admit. he’s growing on you.

watching the game is more fun than you anticipated. despite not being into football all that much, it’s great to watch the boys work together as well as they do.

you’re certainly not complaining when mingyu throws his vest on the bench halfway through the match, leaving him in a black compression shirt, emphasizing his strong figure.

shit. maybe you should watch him play more often.

it’s his team that seems to be on the winning side tonight — until the opposing team scores ten minutes before the end. both teams have the same score now, which is bad. ending with a draw would suck.

you’re now completely sucked into the game like the rest of the audience, desperate for mingyu’s team to score another goal.

the universe must be on their side today, because they do. three minutes left on the clock and none other than jeon wonwoo himself is able to kick the ball into the net, escaping the hands of the keeper.

it’s all yells of happiness on the field.

the referee blows his whistle to call the end of the game. everyone at your side of the bleachers stands up from their seats, yourself included, to cheer and clap for the boys, happy that they won the game.

you watch them congratulate eachother, some of their friends walking onto the field to do the same.

following the masses, you also leave your seat in the bleachers, walking down the stairs.

mingyu notices you coming his way and runs over to you, surprising you by lifting you up, giving you arguably the best hug you’ve ever had in your whole damn life. he holds onto you so tightly, his big arms and tall frame caging you in — in the best way possible.

when he gently puts you back down, his one hand briefly finds your cheek, which catches you off guard, but you don’t shy away from it.

he’s so tempted to just say fuck it and kiss you right now. you look so pretty, and your eyes — your eyes. he could stare into them forever and love every second of it.

but there’s too much at stake to get impulsive. “thanks for coming.”

“you’re welcome.” you blankly respond, making him smile a little.

“how did i do? good enough for your standards?”

you shrug at him, taking a brief look at his teammates celebrating in the distance behind him. “i was mostly focused on wonwoo, actually, but you were doing a good job too.”

he rolls his eyes before making a sarcastic comment. “you’re hilarious.”

“something i’m very aware of.”

he fake smiles at you, and you reciprocate the gesture, patting him on the shoulder.

“wanna go catch a drink with me?”

“don’t you wanna celebrate with the rest of the team?”

“not tonight.” he shakes his head. “i just gotta go get my bag. come with me?”

he intertwines his fingers with yours and you hardly notice it. which is bizarre if you consider how you had no relationship with him to begin with several months ago. “okay, yeah.”

you head to the men’s locker room with him, which is dark and empty. all the other guys are still out on the field, as you noticed when you were walking over here.

“the lights haven’t been working since yesterday, so watch your step.” mingyu tells you. the rays of moonlight coming through the high windows are enough to at least light up the room enough for you to see where you’re going.

you suddenly get an idea. “do you think the guys are gonna be out there for long?”

“they usually do. ten minutes, give or take.” he answers absentmindedly while taking his black duffel bag out of the locker with his name on it.

once he turns around, you push him back against the locker, taking him by the surprise, your finger pulling at the elastic waistband of his pants and boxers.

“i give credit where it’s due, you know.”

oh. oh. he only then understands what you’re getting at.

you always manage to make him a little nervous somehow — he lives for it. “in public? here? we could go back to your—oh, shit—”

you make him stutter the moment your hand moves underneath his clothes to take a hold of his dick. “but you’re already hard, gyu.”

christ. you’ve got some nerve, putting up that soft and sweet voice as if you’re not fucking responsible for getting him hard in the first place.

he doesn’t protest when you sink to your knees in front of him, pulling his boxers down his thick thighs, his cock springing free.

you grin a little to yourself before taking him in your mouth. he’s so hot like this, all hard and panting and begging.

“h—holy shit, that feels good.” he gasps, the warm sensation of your mouth making him go dizzy.

his hand moves to the back of your head. you take him as much as you can, using your hands for the part you can’t take. he slowly becomes a mess, his head resting against the locker.

you look up at him when he’s shamelessly moaning at the feeling of your tongue swirling around him, his hands subconsciously pushing your head just a little bit forward, making you take just that little bit more of his cock.

arousal begins to pool between your legs, and you suddenly curse yourself for choosing to wear jeans instead of a skirt tonight.

“fuck, fuck, baby—”

you release him with a pop, a mix of spit and his arousal coating your lips. “wanna taste everything. can’t make a mess here.”

it’s such a shame he’s still wearing his clothes. his stomach caves in so nicely whenever you’re sucking him off — like he can’t catch his breath. it’s the best thing you’ve ever seen.

his legs are trembling, and he’s embarrasingly close to his release already. “you don’t—ah—have to do this here if you don’t want to—”

“‘m not leaving ‘til you cum down my throat, gyu. you can do that, though, right?”

he nods, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, his voice all soft and submissive. he can’t help it. “yeah, yeah, i’ll do whatever you want, baby.”

“good boy.” you tell him, entirely unaware of the effect it has on him.

the moment you hollow your cheeks, it’s over for him. the salty taste of his release sits in your mouth before you swallow it, and his chest heaves while he pulls himself together.

both your eyes widen when you suddenly hear the voices outside getting closer, and mingyu knows it’s time to get the fuck out of here. he quickly pulls his pants back up, his bag in his one hand and your hand in the other as he drags you with him to take the back exit before anyone can notice either of you.

you both take a breather outside as you lean against the wall of the building before you burst into laughter together. he feels on top of fucking cloud nine, if he’s being truthful.

“you’re insane.” he laughs, looking to the side to find you laughing and blushing at the same time. “you’re blushing? after doing that? wow. who are you and what have you done with my friend?”

“you’re getting special treatment, you know. i don’t suck off my other friends.” you tease, shrugging your shoulders.

maybe he should consider pursuing a theatre career with the way he dramatically puts his hand over his heart. “does this mean i made it to friend level 2?”

“you did. now you’ve been downgraded back to level 1, though. what’re you gonna do about it?”

he plays along with you. “well, shit. can’t have that. we can go get a burger with fries at that place near campus. my treat?”

“sounds good.” the words have left your mouth and that big smile is right on his face again. you playfully push his shoulder, cheeks hurting from the smile on yours.

he’s getting closer to you than you anticipated, and that’s not a good thing, but for now, you tell yourself it’ll be fine. how much closer could he possibly get?

another month passes by when, for the first time in a while, mingyu doesn’t drop by your dorm. he doesn’t text, doesn’t call — and you find yourself worried about him.

it’s been nothing but complete radio silence from his end, which isn’t a good sign.

you’ve already left him several voicemails when chan lets you know he’s been having a terrible fever for the past two days. it leaves you with the urge to go and check up on him, so once you’ve had all your classes for the day, you find yourself knocking on his door.

it takes a moment for him to answer it, wonwoo seemingly not present in the dorm.

when mingyu opens the door, surprise is painted across his face, the heavy bags under his eyes making him seem awfully tired. shit, you hope you didn’t wake him. he’s wearing a plain white shirt with thin black pyjama pants, his hair an utter mess.

the surprise on his face is gone once you open your mouth. “you look like shit.”

he snorts at your words. “would you say that to me if i were on my deathbed, too?”

“absolutely.”

he smiles at your attitude, finding it strangely refreshing. “wanna come in? i promise i’ll stay at a distance so you won’t get it.”

you didn’t think he was going to invite you in, but you accept the offer nonetheless. “i was wondering why you didn’t call. then chan told me you were sick.”

he shuts the door behind you. “yeah, i’ve been sleeping, mostly. watched some netflix too but it quickly gives headaches. i’m sorry for not letting you know — didn’t think you were worried.”

you pause for a moment. “well. you thought wrong. friends worry, don’t they?”

the words make him smile. he didn’t think you cared all that much about him for some reason — this changes that. “fair. what’s in the bowl?”

he’s referring to the black bowl covered in foil you have clutched between your arms. you shrug. “soup. i don’t know if you already had some, but it worked wonders for me when i was sick a while back, so… yeah. i figured you could use it.”

his face lights up when he realizes you went out your way to make this for him. with gratitude, he accepts the bowl. “thank you, i appreciate it. looks really good. you can sit by my desk if you want to, by the way.”

as he’s walking across the room, you notice the mishap in his steps, like he’s about to lose his balance. “are you okay?”

“yeah, ‘s just—i’m a little dizzy.”

your hands find his shoulders — a touch that feels heavy compared to the usual skin-to-skin contact you share with him — to put him down on his bed. “don’t force it. if you’re about to faint, you might as well be lying down.”

his lids hang low, eyes nearly closed when you pull the covers over his body. you touch his cheeks and forehead with the back of your hand to get an indication of his temperature.

as soon as you’re about to tell him he probably has a light fever, it seems he’s already half asleep. you pull the covers up to his chest to ensure he’s comfortable.

you gaze at him for a moment as he snores softly, biting your lip as you curse yourself for giving him a treatment he doesn’t deserve.

maybe mingyu likes to think he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, but that’s far from the truth. even you have noticed he’s been looking at you a certain way recently, and that’s saying something.

one look at him and you’re already feeling like a big softie. it’s ridiculous.

you’re scared of what you feel for him, but as long as you can keep your relationship like this, it’ll be fine.

now that he’s asleep, you wander around his room. you know wonwoo must be at football practice, since mingyu is normally there with him at this time of the week.

you usually take him to your dorm, so you’re not in his all that often. your eyes rake across the framed pictures of his friends, family, loved ones, memories he’s made.

they stop, though, when recognizing yourself in one of the pictures. he promised you he’d frame one up as a way of ‘solidifying your friendship’ as he so politely put it.

still, you didn’t think he’d actually do it.

smiling to yourself, you proceed to notice his laptop screen is still on. he must’ve been working on something when you knocked on his door.

out of curiosity, you check the screen, figuring he was working on the essay he’s been postponing for two weeks because he had difficulty getting started.

you take a look at the assignment and decide you’re gonna try to do it for him. luckily, the necessary paragraphs that ought to be studied beforehand and referenced in the essay itself came with the mail, so that makes everything a lot easier.

when mingyu wakes up hours later, he finds himself alone in his room. you’re gone, though he notices the glass of water on his nightstand has been refilled, his laptop is flipped open, and there’s a sticky note attached to it.

slowly, he rubs his eyes and moves toward the desk to grab the laptop before sitting back against the pillows.

you must’ve written something on the note, he figures.

‘hopefully the essay is up to the standards of your class. i did it in a separate document so you can just get rid of the whole thing if it’s not what you want it to be. let me know if you need anything else. x’

he frowns, turning the device on to see what you worked on — and the screen lights up, only for him to realize you wrote the essay due for tomorrow. and with a few of his own additions here and there, it’s good enough to submit, which is impressive for someone who’s not actually taking the class.

and right now, all he can do is smile at his screen like an idiot.

you’re at the university skating rink when you hear someone calling your name from the bleachers.

looking up with a frown, you suddenly notice a tall man sprinting your way, so you skate towards him. “mingyu, what the hell are you doing here?”

“i got 87/100 for the essay. for the one class i always hate. you’re a genius.” he exclaims, absolutely beaming at you.

you suddenly remember doing the essay for him, snorting at his reaction. “so i’ve heard. good to see you’re doing better.”

“is there anything i can do in return?”

“don’t worry. i like writing essays. besides, you already helped me out plenty of times. it was the least i could do.”

the words coming out of your mouth hardly match your facial expression, but he finds he’s gotten used to it now. he understands you better than ever before. “you know how you said i’d get nothing out of a friendship with you?” he recalls, biting his lip for a moment, “you were wrong.”

a mere chuckle escapes you. “right. you get top-notch essays and bowls of chicken soup.”

your comment was sarcastic, but he remains serious. “you’re wonderful, you know that?”

it’s not often people use a word like that to describe you. it feels weird hearing it, but your attitude remains the same. “am i?”

“yeah, you are,” he nods, pushing out more compliments, “and i’m glad to have you in my life.”

the playful expression on your face falters — like a glitch occurring in your system. mingyu is starting to break through your hard exterior remarkably easily, and that’s beginning to scare you a little.

he leaves without saying another word, but the look on his face is enough to tell that he’s feeling the tension too. whatever relationship you have is becoming more intimate by day, most definitely passing the friendship it was supposed to be, and to you, that is very alarming.

and you suddenly refuse to let it go any further.

whenever he texts you, you either tell him you don’t have the time to come over or nothing at all. you avoid him like the plague, ensure not to go to social gatherings if he’s going be there and stay well away from all the places you and him studied together. it hurts, because you do miss him, yet you manage to keep it up.

but you can only do so much. unfortunately, mingyu is smarter than you hoped.

after two weeks of you avoiding him, he decides he’s had enough.

when you’re almost about to leave the dorm for your lecture, you hear someone knocking on your door. you open it to find him standing there, and he walks right by you, not bothering to ask whether he can come in.

“why have you been avoiding me?”

“i gotta leave for my lecture, i don’t have time for this.”

“so make the time.” he says sternly, jaw clenched. “answer the question.”

“i haven’t been avoiding you.”

“sure. so it’s a coincidence you suddenly stopped talking to me?”

you huff in frustration and close the door, leaning with your back against it. “no, it isn’t.”

he raises his hands in defeat. “so, why?”

“it’s been fun. i don’t know. but you’ve proved what you wanted to prove, so… good for you. we can both move on now.” you shrug, hardly sounding convinced of your own words.

“you’re lying.” he breathes out, scoffing to himself. he’s baffled that you think he’d consider it believable at all. “four months ago, i would’ve bought that. but not now.”

“believe what you wanna believe. i don’t really care.” you give him the cold shoulder, attempting to open the door so you can leave, but he immediately shuts it to stop you from doing so.

“don’t bullshit me. you care. i don’t know why the fuck you’re so hellbent on not admitting that, but it’s the truth.”

he’s beginning to get on your nerves. “what fucking answers are you even here for? since you claim to know everything that’s going on inside my head already.”

it’s then that he starts to show how genuinely upset he is at you pushing him away. “what makes me so different from the other guys? joshua, seokmin, chan—all of them. why is it so easy for you to be close with them but not with me?”

“because you keep trying to get closer to me! from day one, you’ve been saying you wanna be friends with me like the rest of them, but your actions don’t line up with that.”

“so what? i like you and i’m pretty damn sure you like me too.” his voice is softer, face closer to yours, those brown eyes of his working their way straight to your heart. “what are you so afraid of?”

either you’re imagining things or he’s leaning in to kiss you. his lips are so close before you feel them on yours, a sensation you missed like nothing else.

your fingers touch the back of his neck. it’s hard not to get lost in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the smell of his cologne making it even harder.

kissing mingyu is the closest you’ll ever get to heaven, but right now, all it’s making you feel is guilt and shame.

so you pull yourself away from him, breaking the kiss, hands feeling heavy on his chest. “close the door on your way out.” you whisper, leaving him alone in your dorm.

he stands perplexed in his place for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose, processing what just happened.

“fuck.”

it’s been a week, and he hasn’t called nor texted you since that conversation. you assume that he’s decided to move on.

which is understandable. if you were him, you’d be done with it too.

it feels strange to be going about your day without him dropping by or talking to you. like he left a void you’re unable to fill. and it hurts — you miss him.

you’re having lunch with seokmin and minghao in the cafeteria when he’s suddenly standing in front of you by the table. “i just got a call from the gallery manager — we’ve got it to ourselves this friday evening!”

minghao smiles widely, the sweet sound of his excited laughter intriguing the rest of you. he turns his head to explain. “me and mingyu have been trying to rent the gallery so we could finally be able to put our work on display. apparently, it was just confirmed we managed to pull it off.”

hao is a passionate painter — mingyu a photographer. their love for art is one of the things that binds them together, and they’ve mentioned wanting to have their own exhibit for a few months now. despite the things that have happened, you’re happy for them.

“that’s great! we can come, right?” seokmin asks, already grabbing his phone to put it in his agenda.

“yeah, you guys better.” minghao answers, his gaze shifting to you. “you have to come too. you’re free, right?”

he’s aware of things between you and mingyu being tense right now — though he doesn’t know why — but he still thinks it’d be good for you and him to see each other.

your eyes meet mingyu’s for the first time since your last conversation a week ago, and hao follows your actions, looking at him as well.

mingyu subtly looks away, hoping his friend didn't catch him staring at you. before he can utter the words he wants to say, you tilt your head, already speaking up. “sure. i'll be there.”

he unintentionally gives you a puzzled look, and you pop a piece of gum in your mouth, looking at your wrist as if there’s a watch there.

there isn’t. “won’t you look at the time. i’ll see you guys later.”

they briefly say bye to you, very much used to the way you dismiss yourself, and mingyu watches the interaction as if it’s the first time witnessing it — as if he hasn’t known you to be like this for several months.

he watches you walk out of the cafeteria, confronted by his two friends staring at him. “what?”

“you’re deep in it.” minghao remarks. “when are you guys finally gonna admit that you wanna be together?”

“it’s not that easy.”

seokmin frowns, connecting the dots before gasping. “wait. you and her are a thing? since when? why didn’t anyone tell me this?”

the other two just deadpan a stare at him.

on friday night, you attend the art exhibit. you know he’s been working hard on the collection, and you certainly figured you were gonna be confronted with mingyu as well, but this is one gathering you couldn’t afford to miss. so you choose to try and forget the drama for one night.

you’re wearing a little black dress with lacy tights and sleek ankle boots, an outfit you feel nice in.

the gallery is buzzing with friends of the artists as well as people who frequent the place whenever a new exhibit is up. perhaps some pieces will be sold tonight.

as you’re passing some of mingyu’s framed photos, you hear his familiar voice behind you.

“i was surprised when you agreed to come.”

when you turn your head, he’s standing there with his hands in the pockets of his fitted black pants, the deep cut of his white blouse exposing just a bit more of his upper chest than usual, a silver chain sitting all pretty on his neck and collarbones.

personally, you find it’s relatively rare to find men with good taste in fashion, but he’s definitely got it. he looks good. really good.

biting your lip, you give him nothing but a cool response. “came to see if you were any good.”

“and? what’s your judgement?”

“haven’t made up my mind yet.” your tone turns into a more teasing one, seeing as he appears considerably less hostile than you. “does my judgement really matter that much, though?”

he nods so quickly, almost as if he were hypnotized by you. “more than you know.”

him showing you affection actually makes your heart shatter. he’s so genuine in it too — and you just don’t know what to do with all that love he so easily gives you.

people pass you left and right, completely unaware of the heavy feeling currently bubbling inside your chest. you’re crumbling under his gaze and he fucking feels it.

and this situation is precisely the one thing you were so afraid of. you know he knows how to poke into your heart, he knows when you’re lying to him, he knows when you’re upset or hurt — and the idea that there’s someone out there who can see all of that just by looking at you utterly terrifies you.

in moments like these, your expression doesn’t gradually change. it falls hard and quick, sometimes very visibly, just like right now. the blank stare is gone, your lips parting, eyes blinking erratically — it’s like you received a slap to the face.

“your photography is beautiful, mingyu. you’re talented, but you didn’t need me to tell you that.” your voice breaks in the middle of your sentence and you leave him behind, heading into the ladies’ room, hoping he won’t follow you.

you exhale when he doesn’t.

knowing it’s way too early to leave, you pull yourself together, and once you get out of the bathroom, you make it your mission to avoid him for the rest of the night. if that means talking to god knows how many new people, so be it.

minghao’s paintings are beautiful. you’re in awe of his talent as you walk past his artworks, admiring each of them.

as the evening nears its end, the artist himself comes up to you with that gentle smile he often wears. “so, what do you think? do i have potential?”

“are you kidding? you’ve got more than just potential. these are gorgeous. you should be proud of them.”

he thanks you, his hands sitting in the pockets of his trousers. “what’d you do to mingyu?”

you cross your arms over your chest. “why’re you assuming i did something?”

“because he’s been looking like a kicked puppy for the past few weeks. and i heard you and him suddenly stopped hanging out, so...”

taking a deep breath, you shake your head to yourself. “honestly, i’m not even sure what happened between us. it came out of nowhere.”

minghao keeps his eyes on you even when you look away. “he came out of nowhere and you started liking him.”

the comment makes your eyes widen, but you don’t bother hiding the truth from him. he might be the most trustworthy guy you know. “yeah. so i pushed him away.”

he’s aware of your fear of letting people in beyond a certain extent. “what did he do?”

you could cry, honestly. your face is blank — your voice trembles. “he said he was happy to have me in his life. god, i’m so fucking insecure.”

hao softly rubs over your shoulder blade for a second, a gesture you appreciate. he shrugs. “you’re not obligated to do something you don’t wanna do. but talking about it is better than leaving it unsaid. gyu’s a good guy. he’ll understand it, but only if you give him the chance to.”

with that sentiment, he leaves you be, and you rub your arms, staring at the painting that’s currently in front of you, only to realize it’s about two lovers.

there’s a thin line between laughing and crying. you feel like you’re somewhere in the middle right now.

“christ, i need a fucking drink.” you mutter to yourself, running a hand through your hair.

“mind if i join you?”

of course. why are you even surprised?

without looking him in the eye, you respond to his question with one of your own. “sure you want my company?”

“beats going drinking alone.” mingyu shrugs next to you.

you let out a sarcastic chuckle at that. “whatever you say.”

luckily for you, the nearest bar is around the block. the walk there is quiet. you’re not sure what to say to him, and you feel him subtly looking your way.

he holds the door open for you to go in first. the place is not all that crowded yet, only a few tables occupied, probably because it’s still relatively early in the evening.

since no one else is seated by the bar top, you choose to head to one of the high stools there, ordering two shots of vodka before even sitting down.

the bartender puts two shot glasses in front of you and pours the liquid in both until they’re completely filled. mingyu looks at you as he picks up the small glass, and you just lightly tilt your head as a toast.

his facial expression is as bitter as the alcohol burning in his throat. he hates the way you look at him — like you don’t give a fuck about him.

you look down at your glass. you still haven’t exchanged a single word since leaving the gallery. what the hell are you even supposed to say? you didn’t want to be here with him in the first place.

liar. the little voice in your head creeps in.

the silence feels as painful as trailing your nails down a chalkboard. surprisingly, it’s you who ends up speaking first.

“if you’re trying to make the situation more awkward, you’re succeeding.”

“i’m just trying to find the words. don’t know where to start.”

your voice is hostile and sharp as a blade. “then don’t.”

of course you’re aware you’re being mean. but it’s to serve a purpose. every time you show this side of you, people always leave. better sooner than later, right?

mingyu, instead of feeling insulted by your attitude, looks at you as if he’s deciphering a puzzle. “i will. because i care.”

that makes you remain quiet. you just scoff instead, not knowing what to say next. he shifts in his seat to be able to look at him better — you do the exact opposite, turning your face away from him.

“can i ask you something?”

you don’t actually respond, save for the blank stare you give him. which he takes as a yes.

“you not showing much… is it a front you put up or something you just do?”

an interesting question — one you actually have to think about. “the latter. having a resting bitch face doesn’t really help my case, i guess. but i also enjoy keeping people in the dark a bit. can’t have everyone showing everything.”

“why not?”

blinking at him for a moment, you gently smile at him. it’s not a genuine one. “do you wanna know why you feel at a disadvantage right now?”

“because your alcohol tolerance is better than mine?”

“because you can’t tell what i’m thinking.”

he then puts his chin up to look at you better. you tilt your head a little, as if you were following his gaze, and he feels like he’s on the right track here.

“maybe i kinda like that disadvantage.” he suggests, but you shake your head knowingly.

“no, you don’t.”

“how would you know?”

you suck at the inside of your cheek for a moment, taking a breath. “my mom once said to me that it bothered her she couldn’t tell what i was thinking.” you pout your lips as if you’re thinking about it. “i told her i liked that. being an open book is my worst nightmare.”

“why?”

“putting your thoughts and feelings on display make you vulnerable. being vulnerable makes you weak.”

“so you think it’s better to isolate your feelings completely — discuss them with no one? ever?”

“unless it’s necessary, yes. besides, feelings aren’t black and white. do you know how difficult it is to convey them through words, let alone getting the person at the other end of the line to actually understand them?”

mingyu looks—no, gazes at you. “how will you know if you don’t try?”

“how do you know i haven’t? you think you’re the first person who’s tried to get close to me like this?” you ask, tilting your head. “speaking of which, i’ve been having a real hard time trying to figure out what it is you want from me. i’m not buying the whole ‘i-just-wanna-be-friends’ façade. never did. i thought it was the sex, but i initiated it more often than you did.”

“it wasn’t for the sex.” he shrugs his shoulders. “i like you.”

“so you’ve mentioned. since when?”

“since… always.”

“we never even talked before soonyoung’s party.”

“no, but i liked you.”

“bullshit.” you fire back at him, scoffing sarcastically. “i’m hardly likeable — nothing i’m insecure about. just a plain fact.”

“and yet i like you a lot. must be shocking.” he jests, the vaguest hint of a rising smirk on his face. “do you like me?”

“i can’t stand you,” you reach out to push his chin upwards so he looks up at you, only realizing how physically comfortable you’ve become with him after doing so, “but at least you’ve got a pretty face to make up for it.”

it’s unbelievable, mingyu thinks to himself. the way you keep teasing him, keep being a little mean to him, and he just eats it all up.

every moment he spends with you has him wondering what on earth it is about you that draws him in so much.

but, fuck, he just can’t get enough.

another shot is poured into your glasses, which you take between your thumb and index finger, nodding at him so he’ll take his.

the liquid burns in his throat, making him feel hot, and you get awfully turned on when you notice the way he wipes off the drops that accidentally ran down his chin.

“i think i’ve got you all figured out.”

his bold statement and matching attitude has you raising your shoulders. “oh yeah? go on. try me, i’m curious.”

the words tumble from his lips as if they’re part of a monologue he’s been rehearsing for weeks. “you feel so much, express so little. i bet it must be hard to keep up with your own mind sometimes. i think you often feel judged and misunderstood because of your attitude, but you don’t mind that much, since you prefer a smaller circle anyways. you simply don’t like wearing your heart on your sleeve, but it’d be a big mistake to think you don’t have one — and honestly, i’d do anything to be close to it.”

it’s not often you’re speechless.

he describes you almost perfectly, and your body language subconsciously changes, confident and playful demeanor gone — the cold and distant side of your personality coming out again.

“good job,” you tell him softly, moving to grab a few bucks from your wallet to pay for the drinks, “i guess i should say congratulations. you know what makes me tick. that means we’re done here, right?”

he finally spots the shift in your behavior. “wait—”

“have a good night, gyu.”

you curse yourself for accidentally using the nickname as you walk out of the bar, putting your coat on, feeling raindrops on your hair and skin once you get outside.

as you’re trying to make yourself remember where the nearest metro stop is, you hear him utter your name behind you. “what did i do? was it something i said?”

letting impulsivity get to you for once, you scoff, muttering a response. “it was everything you said.”

“why?” he asks, the tension running thicker. “why won’t you just let me in, for once? just this time?”

you hate how desperate he sounds — you hate how much it’s tugging at your heartstrings.

“why do you even want me to?”

“‘cause i like you.”

“no, you don’t. you just like whatever chase this is, just a little fun to keep things interesting for you.”

“has it ever crossed your mind that maybe i like you for you?”

“i’ve given you no reason to like me.”

“what, you think that no one out there will like you unless you act differently?”

his words feel like a growing tear in your heart. your self-esteem is so ridiculously low that it makes you believe no one would love you if you were to be unapologetically yourself — and hearing someone say it out loud hurts.

mingyu watches as the emotion flashes through your eyes, one of the few glimpses of what you feel underneath that cold exterior.

“it’s not true,” he says before you attempt to answer, “because you… being around you makes me happy. when i’m not with you, i think of when i’ll see you next. you matter to me.”

you’re not sure what’s worse — the fact that you reciprocate his feelings or the words that are coming out of your mouth.

“you’d do best to try and get rid of that feeling.”

but he knows there’s more lingering behind your words. “tell me you don’t feel the same way.”

“what i feel means nothing.” you state, voice laced with hurt, though not from his words. “let it go.”

“why don’t you wanna try?”

“because it’d be a disaster. for both of us.”

“c’mon,” he pleads, gently touching your fingers, “please don’t push me away.”

“god—i have my reasons, mingyu.”

“then explain them to me!”

“i can’t give you what you want!” you cry out, needing him to understand you. “someone like you just doesn’t work with someone like me. it might sound stupid, but it’s the truth. i wouldn’t tell you i love you, i’m fucking—bitter and cynical, if not misanthropic, i like my own peace and quiet, i fucking hate talking about what i feel — and you are the complete opposite. i’d make you miserable. you’d grow to hate me.”

“no, i wouldn’t.”

“you would. you... i do like you. i don’t know what the hell you did, like—it’s bizarre how much i’ve grown to like you. but at the end of the day, we’d never work, because i cannot give you the love that you deserve. i know you. you want someone spontaneous, easygoing, sociable — those are all traits that i don’t have. i wish i did, but that’s just how i’m engineered. we wouldn’t work.”

“how do you even know that?”

“i’ve had two boyfriends before this. both broke things off with me ‘cause i didn't show love the way they were used to, and even when they called it quits, i didn’t show a thing. because i don’t do that. no matter how often i say it, no one ever appears to understand what they’re getting themselves into when they get close to me, so i’m telling you now. this? you and me?” you ask, finger pointing between the two of you. “we’d be idiots to try.”

“fine. then consider me an idiot.” he breathes out, just barely registering how close he’s standing to you. “i’m willing to try. please.”

the crease between your brows is the sign of your inner conflict. “i’m sick of getting hurt. sick of people making me feel like my feelings aren’t valid solely because i don’t like expressing them.”

“i’m not gonna hurt you. we can take things slow.”

“gyu—” you plead, almost like you’re begging him to stop tearing your walls down despite knowing he won’t.

and perhaps the other part of you does want to let him in. it’s so scary, so tempting.

“i don’t wanna lose you.”

he adores you so much — it’s ridiculous. “you won’t lose me. please…” he touches your fingers so gently, getting closer to you as you barely make an effort to push him away, “please let me in.”

his heartbeat rises when you look him in the eye — he wonders how the hell a person so strong can look so afraid. but he’s determined to show that you have no reason to be anymore.

it’s raining even harder now. instead of backing you up against the wall, he takes a few steps away from you as if he’s leaving, only for him to turn around and gesture for you to come with him.

mingyu’s smile shines even in the heavy downpour — a bright light that balances out your dull one.

he extends his hand, and you finally get over the edge of your fear, finally able to take control of your own body and slide your hand in his.

you and kim mingyu shouldn’t work — perhaps that’s exactly the reason why you do.

thank you for reading. let me know if you enjoyed it x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[cuubism]

emotional support part 3 of physical therapy au

--

It is not exactly a short walk to Dream's flat, but Hob drops him off at his door anyway. Dream can't remember the last time someone did something like that for him. Took so much time just to make him feel safer.

He should just thank Hob and go in, but instead he hesitates in the entryway. He can't deny how it makes him feel, Hob's kindness, and interest in Dream's art, and then him jumping to Dream's defense so viscerally and unapologetically. Hob is... good. Kind. Dream does not know if he deserves it, but for a moment he allows himself to want it.

"You going to be okay?" Hob asks. His eyes are so kind. And Dream wants. It's been so long since he's wanted.

He leans in to kiss Hob and--

--Hob catches him with a hand against his chest.

Dream jumps back, shame coiling hot in his throat. Even when he thinks someone kind might want him, he is still only misreading--

"Dream," Hob says. His expression is still kind, though his smile is a bit pained. "I can tell you're spiraling, love."

That word again. Why would Hob say it if he does not mean it?

"If I am wholly wrong and you do not feel anything then please just say so," Dream sniffs, trying and failing not to feel completely stupid.

"You're not," Hob says--which catches Dream before he can fall completely into the net of melancholy that had begun to entrap him. "I'm just--" he runs a hand through his hair with a self-deprecating laugh, his general self-assuredness slipping for the first time Dream has seen. "I'm trying to be sensible."

Dream doesn't understand. It's true that Dream is not exactly a sensible choice in partner, that's been proven, but--

"It just doesn't look very good does it?" Hob continues. "Chase off your asshole ex only to come onto you at your own home? That's real respectful, isn't it?"

"I came onto you," Dream points out. Hob wants to be respectful of Dream? The bar is currently low when it comes to respecting Dream. Dream thinks he would rather have the kindness than the respect. "And I do not mind."

"Well, that's the problem, isn't it?" Hob says. "Look, believe it or not, and you'll probably believe it, but I've been widely known to be impulsive as hell. But I still don't want to be the guy jumping on you the moment you get out of a bad relationship."

This... had not truly occurred to Dream. "I do not think you will be like him."

Hob takes his hand then, the bad one, the one he's fixed. He does it carefully. "No, I know. But I'd hazard you didn't think he'd be like that before you got together, either."

"I... suppose not." Hob is different, though. He knows it.

"Let's just finish our work with your hand first, yeah?" Hob says, squeezing his hand lightly. He seems genuine. He does not seem like he is just making up reasons to turn Dream down. "I think you need to get back to some normalcy, and then you'll know for sure if you really want this."

"I do want this," Dream says. He does not want to lose touch with that feeling. Of wanting something for himself.

"Then you'll still feel that way later on, hm?"

Dream can't find fault with his argument. Though he can't help but still feel that little curl of shame. Embarrassment.

Hob raises Dream's hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles. Dream's breath catches.

"Goodnight, Dream," Hob says, letting his hand go again. "I'll see you next week."

And with that, and a smile, he leaves Dream standing in his entryway.

Dream presses his hand to his chest. Perhaps Hob is right. Perhaps he is too... fragile... for this right now. He certainly feels fragile. But Hob makes him feel less so. Not more.

But Hob is not the one who ended up in a relationship with someone who reacted to disappointment by smashing his hand with a hammer. So perhaps Dream should heed his relationship advice, and not his own.

He retreats into his empty flat. Shuts the door, locks it, deadbolts it, and shoves a heavy box of unpacked books in front of it for good measure. Then sits on the floor where there should be a couch and takes out his paints. It still hurts his hand to hold the brush for any length of time. But even to this day, it's the only thing that soothes him.

~~

It's just typical that the time Hob really wants someone is the time he decides he needs to be responsible for once in his life. But he just... he needs time. He needs to know that Dream isn't just... fixating on him because Hob's actually treated him nicely when the last person who cared for him didn't. He doesn't want to do this if Dream is just using him as an emotional rebound from a bad relationship. He's become too enamored with him for that. And he's no king of ideal relationships himself, but he doesn't think it's the best time to be starting a relationship when Dream is still carrying the literal scars of the last one.

Damn if he doesn't regret turning him down, though. Just a little.

He hopes Dream doesn't decide to bail on their regular appointment. In fact, since dropping Dream home, he's been so fixated on the possibility that he fucked it all up that he's stress-cleaned his entire flat. Then he bought finger paints to see for himself how well it works as an exercise. All he's really succeeded in doing is proving that Dream is better at art with one and a half hands than Hob is with two, but maybe it'll make Dream feel better.

He brings his attempt at finger painting to their next appointment. And he's so relieved when Dream does show up. He looks a bit more balanced than he had the other day, too. The hurt in his expression when Hob had turned him down had been painful.

"I decided to try out your exercise," Hob tells him. "To prove to you how well you're doing, if nothing else." He shows him the painting.

And Dream bursts out laughing.

"Hey," Hob protests, but can't stop his smile at the joy on Dream's face. "Don't be mean about it or anything."

"What is this meant to be?" Dream asks, taking the painting and studying it.

"It's a landscape."

Dream turns it ninety degrees. Squints. "Ah, yes, I see that now."

"Well now you're just being a dick about it."

Dream only smiles, then puts the painting away in his bag.

"Oh, you're taking it with you, too?"

"You have mine," says Dream, pointing at the painting of cats that's still propped against the wall by Hob's desk. "So I will put yours on my fridge."

"Oh, great," Hob grumbles. But he can't be upset about the smile on Dream's face.

He's glad to see that putting a pause on things hasn't hurt their developing friendship. If anything it seems better. Perhaps Dream's had time to think things over, too.

"But you see, don't you?" Hob says. "Even while you're recovering, your skills are still way better."

"I... see, yes," Dream agrees, ducking his head. "I. I did try painting again. But it hurts."

Because you're probably overdoing it, Hob thinks. "How's your hand feel now?"

"...Sore," Dream admits.

"Can I see?"

Dream gives him his hand, and Hob feels victorious that it's with less hesitance than he had once done. He starts massaging Dream's palm where it feels the most tense, and watches Dream's wary expression--he must have thought Hob was just going to move his hand this way and that and make it hurt--melt into surprise.

"Do you do this with all of your clients, Hob?" he asks, weakly.

"Only the ones I really like," Hob says, and winks. Can't have Dream thinking he's not interested, after all.

Dream blushes, but lets Hob keep playing with his hand. He really does have such gorgeous hands. If Hob ever runs into that ex again he might have to do more than punch him.

"That helping?" Hob asks, and Dream nods, but he's still blushing so it's somewhat unclear in exactly what manner it's helping.

"Good," Hob says anyway. And finds he's truly hopeful that they'll get there. With Dream's dexterity, with... other things.

It's just going to take a bit of time.

[py-dreamer]

@dynamicsimp hope ya like it!

EYESHOT AU DITY

I literally did this in one day- help.

So yeah, I tried out the gosh-dang challenge and honestly?

Quite happy with how it came out! It was very interesting and actually very fun working on a piece with a monochrome pink palette!

Gosh, I haven't gotten to use my REAL lineless style (I use it for stickers but I haven't done any stickers in forever) where all the cel shading is real harsh and as it says in the title: no outline.

Lately, I've been more focused on lighting and texture in my digital works and just making everything 'softer' and more 'realistic' but dang, I forgot how much I missed just using my harsh and more cartoony style.

But because it looked good, here's the one with some light:

I am very happy especially since I do believe there is some improvement in the style.

(In that it doesn't look as amateur as when I first started out. But I think that's mostly cause I used monochrome here)

Does anyone else get that struggle? Feeling like you're not advancing then keep pushing yourself to change and improve but also really missing the original style?

Anyways some of y'all might be wondering where I've been for pride month....

I PROMISE IT'S NOT CAUSE I HATE PRIDE MONTH OR LGBTQ+ PLEASE PUT YOUR PITCHFORKS DOWN!!!!!

Mainly it has mostly been art block and just demotivation especially since I'm STILL WORKING ON THAT BIG PROJECT UGHHGHHHGGGHHGG.

(I'm not blaming y'all I'm just feral)

And just general procrastination.

BUT.

I do have another project in the works. So to any of my lovely marshiemallows who have seen my previous posts,

you'd know that I'm very...opinionated about Macaque. More specifically his attitude in canon and how the fandom treats him.

(Keep in mind the thing was planned before s5)

DISCLAIMER: Again, I do enjoy Mac's character. I just think he's a bit of a d!ck and kinda hates how a lot of the fandom (not all) brushes that over and throws the bucket of Wukong's sins down on the king's head.

(I also would not hesitate to wack him with a stop sign on the chopping block if given the chance /hj)

But without further ado I decided to do something other than complain and present you guys this:

Yay! So if you're into Macaca bullying, join the Mac bullying train! CHOO CHOO!

(also big thanks to @furornocturna for beta reading and helping with characterizations and stuff. There will be another post just detailing bout the fic later but yea go check them out, their work's great)

AND HAPPY ANIVERSARY TO DYNAMICSIMP FOR THE AU!

[distant--shadow]

The witch and the widow chapters 1-4 author’s notes

Ok, so first off I feel I gotta preface this by saying I am absolutely not a history buff. Kinda the opposite of one really. I was one of less than 10% of the kids in my year of 300 or so that didn’t take history at GCSEs, mostly caus a subject taught and based around names and dates etc is the definition of something not suited for my type of brain, also I hugely lost interest in it caus we moved past the fun trebuchet eras and all that real fast and it became of slog of me falling asleep in lessons caus I had a teacher whose method was putting on movies and shutting the blinds (I’d always fall asleep and he was later jailed for being a p*edophile, so that’s a thing.) Anyway, all that to say I’m not good at this shit, but as ive gotten older I have taken a bigger interest in queer history in particular, and that often if not always links into other areas such as fashion, women’s rights, religion,the arts, class, and race etc. (I’m still not good at names and dates though!)

They are outfitted and arsenalled - the stones of the wall - in a manner to rival any army; tapestries of red and gold perhaps once brandished on battlefield as banners promenading around death now retired and indoor-still-air-still as taxidermy giving colour between all of the shades of metal, burnished and polished and in some cases rusting, some still purposefully left blood-stained, swords and pikes and maces arranged in wallpaper patterns as though flowers or fans, sword-sheath beams spreading from chest-plate armour suns.

Let’s start with something easy and recent. The Baron’s armoury was inspired by a few castles I’ve visited, these rooms are always so bizarre to me. I don’t know if this is at all of the time/how they were decorated or a more recent thing, but either way it’s pretty wild but I do love the visual and metaphor of it. In this one castle I found out from talking about the carpentry to an attendant that the decorative ceiling work around the chandelier above the dining room table actually hid a trapdoor - and there was other hidden doorways for passages and to secret rooms in this castle, that’s not that unusual - but this particular trapdoor was to allow for the chandeliers to be switched out. Why? Caus they had them in multiple colours of glass, and the lady of the castle liked the chandelier to co-ordinate with her dress if they were having guests round. Aint that such a flex? Definitely some food for future thought.

Aight. Clothing. So anyone that chats fic/au to me or is in my server has probably heard me yell to go watch Kaz Rowe’s videos many times. As I’ve said this fic aint meant to be historically accurate but it does kinda straddle histories, one of which being our own; so women wearing trousers and the like at this time would still be a crime, and draw a lot of attention . Imogen in men’s clothing genuinely isn’t meant to be much of a gender thing but a thing of practicality, and she has mostly lived in the countryside or in the outskirts, so she does not get into the trouble she would should she go into the towns and cities (another reason to keep away past the potential noise, but this Imogen will happily don a dress or skirts if she needs to, she’s just usually working – and maybe it’s a bonus that dressing as a man acts as a sort of flagging for any women who might be interested lol.)

I guess here I should mention how I think this version of Imogen's powers and how they’ve manifested (along with everyone else being unaware of them) will have somewhat changed her disposition and personality, it is a lot more aligned with later campaign Imogen who has more confidence and empowerment, she hasn’t been ostracised for her abilities or particularly bombarded by them, think more like when she has her circlet on, she chooses to listen in (mostly), although of course she has still heard many terrible things (and her life has still been pretty brutal but that’s to be written still).

(it’ll be really fun in this regard getting to explore and explain this version of Laudna, but early days for giving much away on that yet!)

Her skirts are full and structured and plumed by many layers of petticoats that hide the movement of her feet across the wildflower lawn, causing her to appear to be drifting like the bees do from petal to petal, pollen dusting her pleats though ghostly her skin in contrast to the fine fabrics that she dresses for the part, black in mourning, still, bodice tight and sleeve leg of mutton, an ornate decorative layer of black lace laying over each yard of textured textile like spider webs on porcelain patterns, her husband's tableware collecting dust in the kitchen cupboard.

real impractical for how tending towards practical the Lady dares to be, hands on, too busy for errant hairs in piano key ivory and ebony windswept and loose from the high bun she pins in place with a cameo broach, a memento mori engraved in silver and inlayed with ruby eyes and tied with red ribbons. Her skin also proudly displays the age and perhaps trauma that her hair does, lines from laughter and furrowed brows and the feet of the crows that cry from the top of the chimney pots

A little note as to say that Laudna’s appearance is heavily influenced by Victorian mourning wear, with some of the clothes cuts altered to be a little bit more regency and earlier in places. (her  attire is a little outdated, further suggesting her distancing from society and fashion)

A couple of days ago Imogen happened upon a bird with an injured wing, crying helplessly and rolling in circles, feathers taking flight away from the bird that could not, settling around it as it panicked itself bald-

The bird could not live without the use of its wing, and it didn’t, whether that was by Prosciutto or a fox, only its feathers were left in a pile.

Imogen had gathered them into an empty burlap sack; taken them to one of the maids downstairs to clean, repurpose them for filling pillows.

Here’s a silly little easter egg for my p(r)oof reader. Last time he visited we was enjoying a cinnamon roll from the local bakery by the city river (as you do) and a cyclist hit a seagull. It was real distressing, the seagull was distressed too. A handfull of middle aged women stood around it not wanting or knowing how to intervene as its wing was twisted at a crazy angle and it flapped about in a pile of its own feathers, there’s still bird flu about so it is wise to not touch wild birds, and as bleak as it is I was saying to freshy that a wild bird who’s wings broken like that is gonna die, and probably slowly and painfully. Some man came along and lifted up the bird to take the bird off the path and laid it to rest behind an old bridge building, I think he must have mercy killed it too as the bird was already dead when we walked past 10 or so minutes later after finishing our cinnamon roll and giving a cautious glance. So there’s a nice happy memory thrown in there for him.

what appears to be driftwood breaches the surface, then another point, then another

the water belches

Ceviche scares, whinnying as he rears onto his back legs, the Lady leaning forward and clinging to his harness. Imogen stands in her stirrups, leaning across the gap over to the black stallion, grasping his reins and cooing

“All good, boy, all good-”

What had appeared to be driftwood lands on the surface with a slap, looking like the carcass of an old boat left to rot in the muddy bed of a dock, timber ribcaged and leathered skin cladding.

A femur surfaces, followed by a jaw.

Second easter egg for the p(r)oof is a quick one (I’m such a considerate writer, I know.) On a train ride to a loch we went to for a day out there is a stop that is on another lake/body of water, and right by the train tracks (which are at water height) there are 4 or 5 old ships stuck in the mud, most of them just the frames/structures of the old boats, mostly wood and some bits of metal, but they’re pretty big boats! It really looks like whale carcasses. I’ve always wanted to get of there and check it out, and we were gonna stop by on the way back but my health being what it is was giving me some grief that day so we missed 2 trains and then soon the daylight, so hopefully next time buddy.

There’s alotta meat and gore talk and Imogen being a vegetarian without the label for such is just another way of me playing round with all of her complex feelings about what the Lady might be doing, her feelings towards Angharad butchering and nourishing the women with these communal stews and all of that. I’ve been vegetarian myself for 20 years now, and it was all triggered by an existential crisis in my mid teens (still a huge fan of leather and blood though) – Imogen greatly cares about animals, struggles with the thought of anything being slaughtered, she is in some ways more empathetic than most because she knows those she does on so much more of a personal level, really feels how someone is reacting to a situation they are in, but also because of this she knows humans are often corrupt and vile and she is spared such thoughts from animals, only knows their instincts and the love and comfort and service they bring – and yet she will obsess over the Lady’s (potential) tooling on that saddlework leather that’s really fucking brutal if she thinks about it one way and beautiful if she thinks about it another hmmm what if everything’s not black and white.

Oh, and the stew is a homage to @picturesofthegoneworlds’ pre-campaign fic Intertwined which I am lucky enough to co-parent and her writing is hugely influential on mine.

There’s a few things being bread crumb trailed here that I can’t explain in the author notes yet, but I’m looking forward to when I can. One small detail I will give away is just a silly thing about the chapter headings. They are something of significance from within the chapter, given in its ‘proper’ name – maybe someone gets access to some books to do research at some point?

anyways, thanks @astoriacolumnstaircase for enabling me. will do another post like this for future chapters if folks find it interesting.

[raindropren]

Some Hermit(+rats) sketches(+Plus the rambles I'm required to write about them)!

going from the ones I like the most to the ones that look more like doodles then sketches lolsie

A Joel! I wanted to try my hand at a S!10 Joel! I've been watching him for quite abit now and He's become one of my favorite hermits(an unsurprisingly long list ngl) :3 Also I found the Animator PerryRata a bit ago and I love how skrunkly they draw everyone, especially Joel, lol. I also have a ton of Joel headcanons from back during empires! He's made of clay and he can form his own body like you would a clay sculpture :D It's my headcanon for why his physical body changes without the use of outside "mods" He's also just a funky silly guy, and I really like how I drew this. Also the tanuki headcanons really fun, to me it's more, raccoon, but it can be either at this point :P

A Jevin! I'll admit I haven't watched him much, but I really wanted to try my hand at drawing a slime character who actually,,, like,,, looks like slime,,, instead of,,, really human with slime bits, lol. I also had a certain body type in mind so ya! I have few headcanons for him but I've thought alittle about how his slime body would work in my AU, so that's fun!

A Non-Hermit! A Garbage Rat Oli! Specifically season 2 Rats tho, lol! I very clearly just wanted to try my hand at drawing a rat on two legs, Garbage's very all over the place in the sketch. The lines are messy and that was kinda on purpose(Garbage whole look and personality is messy and I wanted to kinda,,, feel that in the art and design,, lol) also I was completely going from memory at some points :p

A non-hermit! A Rat Shubble! I don't remember what her like, thing was(like the titles most rats seem to have) but I do know she's lovely and I missed her. I was at my sister house, taking a break from craving pumpkins, and thought about the fact that Oli thought she,,, turned into,, a pumpkin, so I decided to draw her lol! I was trying to keep her cuter then Oli, alittle more put together, and I think I conveyed that at least alittle bit, :3 (also her outfits are so easy, Shubble please never change your outfits from the sweater + overall combo, Complicated outfits are my downfall LOL /lh)

A Etho! This was probably one of the better Etho sketches I did while trying to figure out what the hell his design's deal was ;w; I was having a very hard time but I think the eyes saved it on this one, it looks cute compared to some others! lol! also I gave him a little braid for no reason other then "cute!" lolsie

A second Joel! Secret life specially! I just wanted to draw him in a hoodie, I like drawing hoodies :] I'll make a slightly more complicated design later, but I like how he's just, in a hoodie, that season lol

A second Jevin! Frogger time!!! :O It's Jevin in that frog costume(drawn from memory instead of actually looking so it probably looks really wrong lol) I just really wanted to draw him again :]

A Gem! I was drawing newer peeps so I drew gem as like, a easier thing to doodle :'3 Also I had forgotten her hair buns in past sketches,,, oops

A Pearl! This ones much older than the others(as in, It's on the same page as the meme's with Pearl and Tim Drake lol), I just didn't find it good enough to post sadly ;w; It's a first try at Postmaster Pearl, from memory of course xP She's very cute but I don't think I tried even slightly on this one. you can tell cause I forgot a surprising amount.

and, Lastly, two more Etho's! I think these are cute, I'm just not proud of them at all, might not even look like Etho! but I still like them more then some of the others on that page,,,, They're silly, but not very good ;w;

Welp! That's it! I've been basically collecting my mcyt doodles to post, cause I don't deem a sketch or two alone, good enough to post :'] A hand full amount of doodles is enough for me tho, lol.

I'm real glad I've been expanding the number of hermits i've drawn tho! Yippeee!!

[alanaartdream]

Ok some more drawings for today

Been trying to figure out what I want to dress up as when give out candy to the kids this Halloween 🎃 so there’s some sketches of a fairy 🧚‍♀️ idea I wanted to do with my Pokemon Mimikyu overall dress I got from a artist on instagram/tiktok

And then I’ve some more ideas running around for a Fairly odd parents with Jimmy Timmy power hour nicktoons unite nick naming it Fairy Timmy with the nicktoons au for short (think that works until something else pops in my adhd brain or someone suggests something better)

Ok now onto Fairy Timmy with the nicktoons

My last update on this was Jimmy (and SpongeBob) now has to confront fact that he now knows Fairies (and other magical creatures) are very much real in Timmy’s universe; he already knows about Danny’s universe ghosts are real although now has the information Danny Phantom is Danny Fenton and is like half ghost but that not what’s his main concern (his main concern is he’s starting to fall for Timmy & the fact him turned into a fairy makes him extremely cute doesn’t help at all; Danny loves to tease Jimmy about his crush on Timmy all the time; it’s a great distraction from getting Jimmy to try to study the ghosts too much from his universe he finds)

Fairy Felicity who’s Timmy and Poof/Peri’s teachers on how to handle one’s fairy magic likes to pop into Jimmy’s universe to help teach them because back in fairy world both are kinda celebrities and she doesn’t want any them filming the only fairy children in existence in over a million years and cause Poof/timmy to accidentally create trouble by crying because we all know what happens when fairy children cry

But sometimes Jimmy likes to butt into her lessons with questions about fairies but she doesn’t mind that being as in turn he does help her out with her teachings (mostly when talking about science stuff being as she likes to teaching more about the arts)

So though being there for some of the fairy lessons Timmy and toddler poof/peri have Jimmy ends up learning things about fairies like how dangerous magical back up is or that it’s the male fairies who have the kids (Jimmy did end up asking a lot of questions about that one asking if that means fairies are not like sea horses then? And then having to ask if when she got turn into fairy does that means she took on a female fairy’s — she had to stop Jimmy right there and with a very red face admitted to yes she very much had to take on EVERYTHING that female fairy bodies undergo and in that aspect Timmy will have to take on what male fairies have to go through and Danny who ended up overhearing into this conversation ends up going wait wait what it’s the MALE fairies that have the babies while SpongeBob like oooh like sea horses do?

It’s not until much much later after felicity takes Timmy and Pof/peri back to Wanda &Cosmo fishbowl-home that’s now in Cole’s place being as Wanda and Cosmo have to still be her godparents while raising Timmy & Poof/peri at the same time (once they’re done being her godparents they’ll retrie from being godparents to finish raising Timmy & Poof/Peri then once they’re gone off to fairy high school training they’ll go on the time travel vacations in my au when that happens Timmy will visit Jimmy and nicktoons gang on his own or Poof Peri might tag along at times when not busy)

For their family dinner time Danny starts teasing Jimmy about he might need to use protection when dating Timmy in the just to have Jimmy run around the lab after him to get him to shut it off

[agirlwithdemonblood]

Breaking Free: Chapter 5- Falling Into You

Pairings: AU! Mechanic Dean x Reader

Chapter Summary: First day of living with Dean, everything is going perfect.

Warnings: SMUT! Watch yourself, only 18+

Series Masterlist here!! & Main masterlist here!

Today was my first day living with Dean, and I felt both excited and nervous.

After he helped me settle in and showed me around his cozy apartment—a place that was quickly starting to feel like home—he had to go back to work. It wasn’t a big place, but it had two bedrooms and a nice balcony with a view of the town. The walls were a calming grey colour, decorated with art and photos that made it feel warm and inviting.

Even though I was happy to be with Dean, I couldn’t shake the fear from past relationships. I was used to feeling like I always messed up or disappointed my partner. This fear made me worry that I might do something to upset Dean or ruin our relationship, especially since it was so early.

Deep down, I knew Dean was different—he was kind, patient, and understanding—but old fears still haunted me.

I spent the day searching job opportunities in the town over, it was a little bit of a drive but I knew if I wanted to stay here, I needed to have a source of income.

I checked the time, and my heart pounded in my chest, Dean was due to come home in an hour, and panic set in as I realized I hadn't even started dinner—a routine Andrew used to expect every night. But with Dean, it was different. I wasn’t sure what he liked or disliked, which only added to my anxiety.

I grabbed my phone and dialed his number, the ringing making my nerves worse until he finally answered.

"Hey sweetheart, how are you doing?" Dean’s voice was strong comfort.

"I’m good. I’m so sorry I forgot to ask what you wanted for dinner tonight," I admitted guiltily.

Dean chuckled softly. "You don’t need to make anything. It’s been a long day, so I can pick something up for us on the way home."

"Oh, okay. As long as you're sure you're okay with that…" I hesitated, needing reassurance.

Dean paused, his tone gentle yet firm. "As long as we are okay with that, Y/N. Are you okay with that?"

His concern touched me, and I smiled, biting my lip. "Yeah, I am. I can’t wait to see you."

"Same here, sweetheart. See you soon."

I hung up and headed to the bedroom to grab some clothes, eager to shower. As much as I appreciated the motel's shelter, the showers were dreary. I longed for the real water pressure and a chance to unwind.

Stepping into the bathroom, I undressed and let the warm water cascade over me.

As I stood there, thoughts swirled. Why was I still anxious about things from the past when Dean had consistently shown me kindness and understanding? His reaction to my dinner problem was proof—he wasn’t like Andrew, expecting perfection or control. Dean simply cared about what made us both comfortable and happy.

It was strange, falling this hard for somebody I've known only two weeks. And I wish I could explain it, maybe we were in over our heads or maybe we were crazy, but there was this pull, this deep, intense love brewing between us.

I guess I must have spent longer in the shower than I realized because a knock on the door nearly caused me to slip, and that’s when I realized Dean was home. He cracked the door open as I peeked out with wet hair.

"Mmm, nice wet hair, sweetheart," he teased with a chuckle.

I blushed but decided to play along, shooting him a mischievous wink. "Maybe you'll get to see more of wet me later."

Dean's eyes widened in surprise, and I couldn't help but laugh at his reaction. His cheeks and ears turned pink as he looked down, smirking slightly. "Um... dinner is here. Take your time and relax. Meet me on the balcony."

I nodded with a smile, turning off the shower as Dean frowned slightly. "You didn’t need to come out now."

"I missed you," I admitted softly. "Just give me a moment to get dressed, and I'll be out there."

"Okay." Dean smiled and closed the door, leaving me to quickly dry off and get dressed.

I knew Dean wouldn't mind how I dressed, but I hoped tonight might lead to something more, so I slipped into some leggings and the oversized t-shirt of his I loved, pairing it with lacy black panties and a bra underneath. Hopefully, he'd notice and appreciate the effort.

When I stepped onto the balcony, I was stunned. Dean had set up candles that flickered gently in the evening breeze, casting a warm glow over the table. He was sitting there, looking incredibly handsome, gazing out at the view.

"You look beautiful as always," Dean greeted me warmly. "Did you enjoy your shower? And is that my shirt?"

I nodded, taking my seat across from him. "Yeah, the motel showers are terrible. But I really like your shirt."

He chuckled and handed me my food and drink. "Yeah, I can imagine. And please, keep it. It looks amazing on you."

I smiled gratefully before my eyes widened in surprise. He had gotten me exactly what I loved—burgers and a chocolate milkshake. How did he know?

"Everything okay?" Dean's concerned voice brought me back to the moment. I nodded, smiling shyly. "Yeah... how did you know what I liked?"

Dean smirked and winked at me. "I just know you."

I must have looked puzzled because he laughed softly. "I put the pieces together. You mentioned you love burgers, and you used to get milkshakes with your dad when you were young. It's like a comfort drink for you."

I couldn't help but feel touched by his thoughtfulness. Dean had been paying attention to the little details about me, things I hadn't even realized I had shared. It made me feel seen and cared for in a way I hadn't experienced before.

As we enjoyed our meal together, the evening unfolded into a perfect blend of laughter, shared stories, and stolen glances. Dean's presence was a comfort, his understanding and patience easing the lingering shadows of my past.

"So.." I started, staring back at him. "Tell me more about your parents, you said that their the only ones you've known to move fast like us, tell me about that?"

His smile was sad, but genuine as he leaned closer, "My mom and Dad met at a bus shelter. He asked her for the time, and she noticed he had a watch on-totally busted. But she answered anyways, and as they sat there, dad kept trying to come up with conversations, trying to work up the courage to ask her out."

I smirked at the thought of his parents, so cute just like he was.

"Anyways, by the time the bus came, my mom was waiting for him to get on, and he confessed he didn't need to take the bus, he just wanted to speak to the most beautiful girl in town. She fell for him right than and there-he's a smooth talking bastard."

I laughed loudly and shook my head, "Just like you."

His cheeks burned red and a laugh escaped his lips, "Well, thank you sweetheart."

"So how long have they been together now?"

He smiled, looking up to the sky. "They would have been married for 22 years. They got engaged two weeks after they met."

My eyes widen and I almost spit out my drink, "Two weeks?"

He laughed and nodded back, "I told you, they move fast. When they knew, they knew. Just like how I feel with you..."

I couldn't help but blush at his words. Was this really happening? Were we falling this hard, already?

Our conversation flowed from serious topics to lighter ones, and before we realized it, hours had passed. If it were up to me, I would have frozen time to stay in that moment forever.

After helping him tidy up, we headed to the bedroom. Nerves fluttered in my stomach because I knew what I wanted tonight. Dean stepped out to grab some water, and I grasped the opportunity. I quickly removed my leggings and shirt, then climbed onto the bed and lay down, ready.

Dean entered the room and smiled at me, then his gaze fell upon the little clothing I wore. His jaw dropped, and his eyes widened, taking in every inch of me that was visible.

I expected to feel self-conscious, but instead I just felt his love and passion all around us, heating up the room.

I sat up and smiled, giving him a playful wink. "Any thoughts?"

He swallowed hard, putting the glass down on the dresser before coming towards the bed, his eyes locked on mine. "Oh sweetheart, I'm having plenty of thoughts right now.. God damn."

I smirked as my cheeks burned and the butterflies filled my belly. "Well, why don't you get down here and we could act some of them out?"

His breathing hitch and he chuckled, climbing onto the bed and slowly on top of me. His knee moved between my legs, pressing his body against mine.

My hands moved to his arms, pulling him more on top of me, wanting him impossibly close. He dipped down as his lips hit mine, and this time it was filled with passion and desire.

His hand moved down to my cheek, rubbing the skin gently as his other hand trailed down my stomach. His fingers were burning my skin as he moved them lower, every part of me was craving more.

His lips moved down to my cheek, then my neck, then my chest as he began kissing, licking, and nibbling at the skin he had access to. I couldn't supress the moan that left my mouth as his hand moved lower, tracing my hips and thighs, marking me for him.

His eyes locked into mine as his hands went lower, watching to make sure I was okay, that I was ready. I nodded and bit my lip as he pushed his hand underneath my panties, and rested in between my legs where I needed him the most.

His head dropped, a deep groan escaping his lips as his fingers played at my entrance, feeling how ready I was for him. His lips moved lower, licking the spot on my collarbone that he admired as his fingers pushed deeply inside of me.

I held onto his shoulders with a gasp, not expecting to be filled so deeply, so roughly, so irresistibly. He moved his fingers faster inside, and harder, concentrating on what made me tick, what made my back arch, and continuing to push me.

I could feel my heart pounding in my ears, vision going white as my body trembled underneath him, I was so close already, and he's barely touched me.

His fingers pushed harder inside of me as his other pulled my panties completly off, moving down to settle between my legs. I knew where this was headed, and instantly nerves flooded my system, this has never happened before.

My hands were trembling as I reached his cheek, his movements stilling as his eyes moving instantly to look at me. "Dean.. you don't have to do that.."

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as a dirty smirk spread across his lips. "Do what? Go down on you? Do you not want me to?"

I swallowed hard and closed my eyes, "I uh... Nobody's ever..."

His eyes widened when he realized what I meant, his head lifting slightly to stare back at me, "I really want to... Can I show you how good it feels? If you don't like it, I can stop.."

I smiled and felt relief wash over me, he was doing this because he wanted to, not because he felt like he had to. He smirked as his head moved lower, licking his fingers before pushing them back into me before he leaned forward, licking a strip from the top to where his fingers were.

I shivered as a gasp left my mouth, causing him to chuckle. "Feels good?"

I nodded silently, and without hesitation, his tongue was swirling around my clit, stopping to suck while his fingers pumped faster, harder, deeper.

I moaned loudly into my fist as he pushed me to the breaking point, his tongue writing love notes all inside me as he moved his hand to my clit, chuckling when my back arched.

This was it, the release my body was craving, and he knew it. He lifted his head for a moment, eyes falling on my body. "C'mon sweetheart. Let me feel you cum for me."

I closed my eyes tightly as the pleasure coursed through my body. Flashes of white clouded my vision and my entire body was trembling to the point where Dean held my legs down, fingers still pumping deep inside. "Oh fuck, yeah that's it sweetheart, let go."

As I finally came down from the high, Dean climbed back over me, placing kisses all over my lips and neck, a chuckle vibrating against my skin.

I laughed and pulled him on top of me, kissing his lips hard and desperately. I needed him, I needed to feel him and he knew it. He kissed me harder and groaned into my neck while my hand wrapped moved to the front of his jeans, pawing his already solid erection.

He moaned low in his throat as his hand on my shoulder. “Jesus sweetheart, your'e going to kill me.”

I smirked and lifted his head to face me, “No, i’m just going to fuck you.”

He groaned at my response, licked his lips before stripping off his jeans and boxers, and climbing back over me. His hand moved lower, holding his cock and lining it up with my entrance. His mouth dropped, and I knew he was about to ask if I was ready, so I quickly wrapped my legs around him, pulling him into me, pushing him fully inside of me without warning.

He inhaled a deep, shaky breath as his head dropped, eyes slammed shut. "H-Holy fuck Y/N..."

My smile was wide as I pulled him lower, kissing his lips desperatly, silently begging him to move. He chuckled low, as he sat up slightly, hand moving to my hair, lips hovering over mine before he pulled out, and slammed back in roughly.

My back arched, and his hand slipped underneath me, pulling me impossibly close as he repeated the action-pulling out and slamming deep inside me, deeper than I've ever felt.

We were desperate, falling apart around each other, trying our hardest to hold onto this feeling forever. My moans got louder and more strangled and his growls were just bringing me closer, the sight of him like this was a dream come true.

His eyes fluttered open, a lazy smile playing at his lips. "Fuck, you're perfect."

My hand moved to his back, scratching the skin gently, smirking at the way his eyes lit up. "Dean... I'm so close."

He hummed in approval as he leaned closer, licking the area around my neck before biting it gently. "I'm right behind you baby, c'mon.. give me another one."

I could feel the pressure building, and my entire body was trembling underneath him, but he held me, dedicated to getting me there. His moans grew louder and breathy as he watched me fall apart, and suddenly he couldn't fall hold on anymore. He let go with me, filling me all the way, hands gripping at me tightly.

He slowed his movements, his forehead resting against mine, as the room filled with our heavy breathing and soft sighs.

I smiled up at him, tears welling in my eyes. I didn't mean to get emotional, I really didn't want to, but everything felt so right. It was like everything was falling into place, like he had rescued me.

He moved to lay beside me, his eyes filling with concern as he stared at the tears starting to fall down my cheeks. "Oh, sweetheart, are you okay?"

"Yeah.. I'm sorry." I whispered, my hands moving to my face to try to hide my eyes from him. He kissed my hands over and over, slowly pulling them off so I could see him.

"What's wrong?"

I shook my head frantically and turned to look at him, "Nothing! That was just... really amazing. I've never felt that connection before, it was a little overwhelming.."

He smirked and lay down beside me, pulling me close to his chest. "I've never felt a connection like that either. I can't believe how close I feel to you."

I kissed his chest, and gazed up at him. "I think I love you."

His smile grew wide as his lips kissed my head, "I think I love you too, sweetheart. Get some sleep. I'll be here."

I nodded, resting my head on his chest. Everything finally felt perfect and right in my life, and I cherished it. Yet, I couldn't shake the fear that something might take it all away. Deep down, I sensed I might be right.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Chapter 6 coming soon stay tuned! Like, comment, and reblog, feedback is my fuel 💕

[emry-stars-art]

YES, PLEASE AND THANK YOU @snazzy-jas-z-is-a-fan-of !!

(Find the royal au writing masterpost here 💕)

And I’ll do an art-only version of this post for your reblogging pleasure here :) there's always always more to be said about this so I might make another post on the same topic but later

Anyway onto the juicy stuff

Okay so. Evermore and Palmetto both have glove etiquette, but in Evermore Nathaniel never had to worry about it, because he was expected to constantly be wearing gloves from first day he’s able to after getting nasty scars on his hands. Except for when he’s working or helping Nathan work. The nobles and specifically Prince Riko made it clear that they had no desire to see how ugly his hands were. (This is also why he has a habit of wearing a little of his hair down on the left side; it helped cover the scars on his cheek that ruined his pretty complexion.)

Then he comes to Palmetto and Day introduces him to a whole new set of rules. Gloves are a common and important part of dress and fashion, but people are also able to decide whether or not to wear them at any given time. The only real rules on gloves are when not to wear them; you always take off gloves to eat or drink, and to offer your hand in greeting or service.

Nathaniel gets to kind of ease into it; he’s not around anyone important enough to need to offer proper greeting or help, so mostly he takes his gloves off to eat in the servants quarters, where he doesn’t deal with more than curious glances. There’s a lingering fear of letting anyone important see his hands, no matter what Day says to assure him otherwise.

Then Nathaniel becomes the prince’s guard. Nothing changes for a while - the prince has always been more self-sufficient than most - until one day Nathaniel sees the prince eyeing the fall from his horse. (Really Andrew is trying to get up the courage to dismount, because even if the fall isn’t actually an issue for him, his fear of heights sometimes catches up to him when dismounting horses.) Nathaniel understands by now that he’s allowed and expected to help, so he reaches out - and remembers. He’s also acutely aware that the prince hasn’t yet seen his hands, then also also acutely aware of how serious Day was about the proper etiquette, and slips off his glove. The prince gives his hand a curious look, but accepts the help and all but crushes Nathaniel’s hand in his as he finally makes the fall. Even on the ground, though, he doesn’t let go quickly. Instead, the prince’s thumb brushes once across the back of Abram’s hand and he turns his hold, pulling Nathaniel’s hand up to examine it. The only thing keeping Nathaniel in place is the bone-deep instinct that he isn’t to deny anyone, especially a prince. Maybe the prince would decide he didn’t actually want to see Nathaniel’s hands and Nathaniel could go back to wearing his gloves with little more than a strike to the cheek for making the prince look at them.

But the prince does no such thing. He drops Nathaniel’s hand and continues on as normal. Nathaniel does his best to do the same, but that’s probably the first kind skin to skin contact he’s had in years. He isn’t recovering as quickly as he imagines he should.

(Meanwhile Andrew was NOT about to let an opportunity to hold Nathaniel’s hand slip like that, and he finds that he doesn’t mind the roughness. Most other guards were pulled from a much more privileged crowd - usually who had some callouses or scratches at most. Nathaniel’s hands show Andrew that this one isn’t all bark and no bite. Andrew… really likes them.)

Gradually, Nathaniel (likely soon or now Abram) gets used to taking off his gloves. He doesn’t without reason, it takes him a while not to feel naked without them, but it only takes a few more instances for him to realize that the prince truly doesn’t mind his scars. Helping the prince from his horse becomes easy habit (GS isn’t necessarily tall, but neither is Andrew. No step stool = Abram’s help).

Maybe there’s even a few times Abram is completely gloveless when he’s around only Day or the prince. He finds himself hiding his hands subconsciously when he’s not thinking about it, but he’s never once told to cover up.

Then Abram is kidnapped, taken back to Evermore. All the same rules are enforced and more. In this case, gloves aren’t all that different or upsetting. That much is okay.

It’s when he gets back that things change. Since he’s blind for a while, he’s relying much more on touch and hearing. It’s also a good tactile reminder; if he were still in Evermore, he would never be bare handed. This is when he truly gets used to not wearing gloves. (During this time he’s also touched more gently and more often than ever in his life. Others’ bare hands on his naked skin to care for scars and rashes and fever, first Day and medics and then Day and Prince Andrew. Abram finally, finally realizes that this is what he’d been missing. He actually finds himself calmed and cared for in being touched.)

Even when his sight returns, Abram only wears gloves out of doors or to formal events. Slowly and so, so carefully, Andrew finds more small reasons to touch Abram’s hands, and Abram always finds rationalization to accept. Then Abram even leaves his gloves in his saddlebags or pockets when they go out.

Winter hits. Abram has very few burn scars on his hands, but even the simple knife scars can seize and ache in cold weather. By now Andrew is very attentive to Abram’s pain or discomfort, so he notices. Abram’s hands hurt.

So Andrew buys him new gloves, lined with soft, warm fur. Abram is both pleased and disappointed - pleased because any gift from Andrew is a good gift, and disappointed because the prince expects him to wear gloves again. But the first time Andrew sees Abram wearing them indoors, he says easily, “They’re to keep your hands from the cold. Wear them only as much as you need.” (Because, again; he’s not going to admit it, but he loves Abram’s hands.)

It probably takes a long time for Abram to get accustomed to much more touch. He likes holding the prince’s hand, he’s used to that this far into their courting, but anywhere else with anything more than clinical intent - sometimes including with clinical intent - he gets overwhelmed very easily.

Andrew is careful with him. Like we mentioned in the last post, Andrew’s had about six to eight years longer to get readjusted to wanting and touching; Abram is essentially starting fresh. It’s a lot for him to handle.

(Don’t worry, though, I promise they figure it out. Just like they always do, in every universe, for all of our mental health.)

[maryonaccross]

Hello. I know that team Black blames the Greens over why Rhaenyra's reign as queen was awful, however even in a AU world where Viserys never re-marries and Alicent doesn't exist.

Rhaenyra would have stil been a terrible queen.

Viserys never taught Rhaenyra how to rule. He should have been raising her in preparation for a leadership role by having her in the small concil, teaching her the art of politics and what she needed to do to maintain peace in the kingdom. Whoever Rhaenyra would marry would have to agree to live in King's Landing. So. Rhaenyra could remain by her father's side and learn her role as his heir.

2. Rhaenyra never took her role seriously. She believes firmly in the divine right of kings and that she as a Targaryen is claim enough for her to take the crown, despite her knowing that her cousin Rhaenys was denied and she would have been a more effective ruler then Viserys.

3. Rhaenyra's recklessness contributes to her downfall. She does whatever she likes and doesn't care about the consequences. She heavily relies upon her father and later Daemon to bail her out then not accept any personal responsibility for her getting herself into this meses.

4. All of Rhaenyra's children are illegitimate. Her eldest by Harwin Strong even by Daemon, because her first husband isn't dead. The real reason she sequestered herself on Dragonstone was to hide her children away because she cannot handle any criticism. Her answer to it is violence. That always ends well. LOL.. looking at you Maegor.

She has isolated herself political. Not trying to expand or gain influence outside of her very limited family circle. No allies means no help when she needs it.

People in the realm may not have been thrilled with the idea of a female ruler but they would rather have Rhaenyra as queen then see Daemon as king. His violent reputation was known to all. So. What does she do? Marry the very person the realm was against and make him consort.

5. Rhaenyra's ego and her vanity was her downfall. She never thought about her position from an idealistic standpoint. What she could do to improve the country and make the people's lives better. usher in a golden age. She wanted power for power's sake.

Rhaenyra's rule was always destined to end badly but with Daemon by her side, being her enabler and corrupting her with his nature. It is no wonder centuries after her death she was still despised in the country.

To me Aegon’s “I tRy sO haRD” attitude to being the kings firstborn son is the equivalent of Rhaenyra’s “ I learned that I have to earn my inheritance” mentality towards being the named heir.

I hate what the writers did with Aegon’s character (TGC is the only saving grace) but I fundamentally disagree with the common notion that show Aegon and Rhaenyra are polar opposites of each other because they are both equally unsuited for the role of the heir and share a equally unserious attitude towards the job. (At least Aegon is able to admit he’s ill suited while Rhaenyra gaslights the shit out of herself “earned my inheritance” my ass, you did nothing.) I agree 100% with all your points, I even made posts about some of them but this sums it up perfectly. Neither Aegon or Rhaenyra are aware of the responsibilities of their position (Nyra might have been in the first few episodes but got bored pretty quickly when she realized she’d actually have to stuff and make sacrifices for the realm), they don’t form good alliances (although at least Aegon did his duty in marrying Helaena and having legitimate heirs which Rhaenyra doesn’t have a single one of) or try to endear themselves to the people they will one day rule.

The advantage Aegon has is that he has advisors around him (Otto and Alicent and most of Viserys’ small council) that have ruled the realm peacefully for years in Viserys stead while Rhaenyra’s only source of political inspiration is Nepobaby Daemon who couldn’t hold any small council position for the life of him and who firmly believes that having a dragon and “being the blood of the dragon” is all it takes to rule.

About Viserys, there’s this really interesting post that explains how Viserys tied both fractions to him by never finalizing his decision of naming Nyra heir and always keeping his decision vague.

[gamerbearmira]

Hello resident evil Au person here! Thank you so much for responding and the art work it looks amazing! Sorry for not responding sooner but I was thinking about your idea of the family tree! And I agree with you that the family tree would be different but that instead of Mirabelle being at the top it has Miranda the five Lords below her and then mirabel's family connected through her the normal way that way there's a constant reminder of mirabel's connection to Miranda and the other Lords.

I also realized I didn't put the ages for the three boys and how they turned into what they did when Miranda gives the boys to Mirabel to experiment on they were three almost four years old they were given to Miranda by their parents ( they are biological siblings and are actually triplets) in Donna's section of the village as a sacrifice to her. The experiment that they go through basically sees Miranda taking a small bit of the cadou inside of Mirabel and putting it inside the three boys hearts and then having Mirabel wrap them into cacoons where they basically melt (because that's what happens when Mirabel cacoons people) but instead of dying they reform with little antennas and wings with no memory of their human life and when they emerge from their cocoons they latch on the Mirabel and believe that she is their mother. They were made four years before Ethan gets there so they are still very young when the events with Ethan happen.

Desmond is the oldest child, Cassius is the middle child and Sebastian is the youngest. I know that I said that I would let you pick how they looked but I realized how much that puts on you to decide all the details that go into how they look so I thought I might help by giving the eye and hair color. Desmond has reddish brown hair and hazel eyes Cassius has golden brown hair with dark brown eyes (so dark they're almost black) and Sebastian looks the most like Maribel with her hair color but his eyes are emerald green instead.

They all lived in the creepy casita's version other nursery until they were six when they each got their own rooms Desmond's room is a royal purple color Cassius has a dark maroon colored room and Sebastian has a navy blue colored room.

Miranda was amazed when the boys were made praising Mirabel even more for her "perfection" and even began thoughts of repeating the process with minor changes for a later date. She finds them fascinating especially the process that transformed them in the cocoons which is part of the reason why she agreed to put Rose in the weird mold like womb instead of putting her in Rose flasks because she thought that she would go through a similar process as the boys. Mirabel hates how fascinated and interested in the boys Miranda is because she is just as protective of them as she was Antonio if not worse because the same way that they view her as their mother she instinctively views them as her children so she wants Miranda nowhere near them in a very primal and instinctive way.

As always any and all art work or writing is appreciated and loved!

RESIDENT EVIL LETS GOOOOOOOOOO 🦅🦅🦅🦅 LET THE RESIDENTS BE EVIL❗❗❗

Glad you liked the idea, also makes sense!! Was wondering if the others + Miranda would be in it, I wasn't entirely sure. I know Miranda probably would've shoved herself somewhere in that tree though, let's be real 💀💀

ALSO ACTUAL TRIPLETS LETS GO 🗣🗣 crazy how Miranda immediately made her experiment on them. And they essentially melted and rebuilt themselves in part of the experiment. Do you know what kind of levels of insane you gotta be to do that 😭 but Mirabel was probably so happy that they ended up being ok.

Them clinging to her makes sense too tbh 🌚 like they remember NOTHING and Mirabel was like their lifeline, so it makes sense. I'm guessing it might've taken a while but the family warmed up to them. Especially given the circumstances. They do feel bad for the triplets to some capacity, I mean they had their whole lives reworked and their minds rewired in a way 😭 Miranda needs to get a life outside of all this, seriously. Like no wonder Mirabel is so freaked out by how facisnated she is with them. Let Mirabel and her family BREATHE DAMN

ALSO W COLOR SCHEMES...I will color them I swear. I just didn't get to it 💀💀 mb, but there's this!!!! Which I hope will do because it too me. Way too long 👩‍🦲and then it's not even fully done??? But I will finish it at some point.

Alma was the only one to get away with not smiling. Guess who's behind the camera 😛😛

also rooms 🤥 them staying in the nursery until they were just past 5, probably barely 6, I guess Ok habits die hard <//33 also no worries about the color! While I would have been more than happy to stick some stuff together, the colors do help <33

UHHHHH THE COCOON FOR ROSE MAKES SENSE TOO!!!! Pretty sure you mentioned it iirc (though correct me if I'm wrong), but Mirabel kept Rose right? Since she's still entirely intact.

Silly idea where the cocoon Rose is in is in the nursery (a very inconspicuous place considering Resident Evil). And the cocoon is just. Sitting in an old crib. Easily can be looked over (someone out a blanket it in it for some reason?? Not sure who). But I think since this version of Casita is something if a safehouse, Ethan can freely explore it (like in the other games), and he'll eventually stumble upon the nursery. Probably when he's getting frustrated about not finding Rose.

Maybe Mirabel can't directly tell him where she is becayse. You know Miranda and she probably got snitches creeping around idk 😭

LOVE THIS AU RAHHGGGGGG ❗❗🦅🦅🦅🦅

[voxxisms]

vague wishlist thread ideas sorted by character (types?) i have some thoughts sometimes about things i wanna do with vox, plots && ideas. some of these are vague or more specific, && some are just settings or aus. putting a cut for dashboard sake. might link in pinned, will tag appropriately. might add more later.

general interactions / with anyone

vox at the hotel in either seeking redemption or as an investor

vox being injured or your muse fighting him in some capacity

vox stepping in to protect your muse with the goal of taking advantage of the dynamic. soul contract / employment or even just general favor owing

redeemed vox in heaven?? hello?

overpowered au content. this post sorta explains the vibes. he's super paranoid, very powerful, but surprisingly easy to be chill with if you behave well.

role swap vox with anyone literally. the only real one ive considered is alastor, in depth. he's an old - fashioned box head, perfectly modern inside for efficiency but looks like he belongs in the decades he lived in. very gentle, very empathetic && sweet. contracted to lilith (mine unless someone else wants to contract him) && helps the hotel.

vox being contracted to someone else.

arranged marriages / marriages of convenience

human verse stuff!! from either when vox was alive (1898-1945) or i'm happy to play with timelines in aus

bridgerton au, vox is george taylor, a wildly sickly man with too much money && a rake mostly. a lord by blood.

hanahaki. unrequited love that gives them diseases, any ending.

his self - punishment room being discovered.

vox in therapy lmaoo

fake dating.

with valentino

valentino having to fix vox

their toxic / possibly sweet relationship when they're on

vox being jealous / possessive

a break up?? if they're on / off it feels like something that happens a lot, i find them fun to write

marry each other smh tax benefits or domestic, either

valentino saving vox / vox saving valentino

with velvette

vox saving her in any way

her having to fix him post a fight or something else

vox modeling for her

ship stuff is fine, just as like, qpr stuff or mentorships

vox being over protective even if he really shouldnt be

with charlie

vox investing in the hotel for any reason (be it her askance, his own idea, or someone else's, or even seeking redemption ). might be genuine, probably more for info gathering

vox offering to personally assist in repairing the hotel

vox saving charlie from danger for fun bc its always good to have someone owe him something

with husk

knowing husk in his overlord times ( pre show / au )

vox having invested in husk's casino

vox being husk's contract holder for some reason?? could be fun

vox n husk fake dating for any reason i saw art for it once listen

with lucifer

vox seeking lucifer's creation expertise in early years (he was an entrepreneur once)

vox doing work / helping with lulu world being created as resident like, electronics man

vox making a deal with lucifer in some capacity, not necessarily Big Deal but you know

with angel

vox protecting him

vox saving him from valentino's ire (on acccident or otherwise)

vox having to step in for valentino on set lmaooo

angel && vox bonding over their similar experiences with val

vox caring for angel post a valentino encounter

angel for some reason being under contract with vox (different work/different expectations)

with rosie

the two having been close during vox's active relationship with alastor?

vox doing business with rosie / i.e. providing her with bodies or people from his territory in exchange for allyship

him investing in cannibal town somehow. owning property / providing funds for rennovation

tea parties?? him cooking for her?? her teaching him how to make cannibal - based food??

with alastor

alastor having been a mentor to early - hell vox

au in which the two have always remained working together, i love the concept. very media husbands coded but also not necessary to be romantic.

all the backstory, their friendship pre - show, especially the event that actually led them to split. i like to hc that they several things that slowly pushed them apart until vox invited him to the vee's right before alastor disappeared (this is dependent of course on the alastor / those hcs but)

au where alastor actually joined the vee's

au where vox offered alastor his soul in exchange for them remaining "friends". does not have to be a very sweet dynamic ofc

vox cooking for alastor / other vaguely domestic things

generally reconciling bc yknow

vox dying!! in alastor's arms!! or the other way around!! (not necessarily permanent but yknow)

RadioStatic of all flavors, unrequited/unspoken/QPR/exes/anything.

the role swap from above.

with other vox's i love duplicate interactions

the girls are fighting

playing into the doubling && working together

vox trying to help the other vox get back home properly

other vox (or himself) being a clone on purpose

upgrading / fixing each other

protecting each other

left brain right brain vibes???

au swaps? a role reversal vox meeting a regular vox? timeline swaps? one vox is from the 70's one vox is from modern times? one vox who is still friends with alastor && the other who isn't?

[xx-disco-inferno-xx]

new sonic au lol

it's kinda long so i'll put it under the cut (shadows design is under there too)

(copy-pasted from an ask i sent) everything is basically the same, except now shadow is a toon character created in the sonic equivalent of the 30s instead of the 50s. maria's disease kicked in a little later in life, and all gerald really knew to do was quarantine her in her room, so the only sources of entertainment she really had was stuff that was already in her room and a small tv that gerald introduced into the environment for her.

as per canon event, gerald was contacted by GUN to create a bioweapon for them, and conveniently being a decent artist, he drew up a lot of possible designs. because maria took a liking to the cartoons that played on tv, gerald ended up doodling some more cartoony designs to make maria happy. black doom (basically a god) found out about the bioweapon project and came to gerald, offering help in exchange for an explanation of the project. that's all, really. he pinkie swears. as gerald was yapping, black doom started viewing his art gallery and really liked one of a cartoon mobian hedgehog, bringing it to life with chaos energy, giving him toon abilities (which is also like a roundabout chaos control kind of). he was also immune to all sickness, and couldnt host bactieria or viruses (because technically hes not real), so he was able to come and go from marias room as he pleased, letting them become best friends. once gerald noticed, he started to wonder is shadow could maybe lead to a cure, so he took some of the ink shadow was made of to do personal experimentation with, lowkey abandoning the bioweapon project. GUN found out about this theft of government property and it led to gerald and maria getting shot, as well as geralds entire team (all of whom conveniently never noticed the missing ink), and shadow getting locked in an ink jar to go in GUNs archives.

in this au, all the events of sa2 happen, but instead of destroying the earth with the ark (which doesnt exist), shadow threatens to turn off the sun. the moon, eggman gets him to break in half, simply to show off his power and back up his threats, and the only reason his redemption happens is because he has a theatric streak a mile wide, so he has to be all dramatic about it, which gives sonic and co the time to turn him back to good. black doom, who had actually been the one to change up shadows memories, was not happy about his plans getting foiled, so he came back with the black comet to destroy earth himself, leading to super sonic and super shadow beating back him and the black comet in place of final hazard. shadow falls through the atmosphere and literally burns into ashes. this fall actually kills him, and he turns into ink again, but eggman finds the ink, commissions an artist for a design (hes a villain, not a monster), and gets a badnik to draw it with shadows ink, bringing him back to life

shadows abilities include minor shapeshifting, turning himself into an ink blob, and general toon physics stuff

might finish later

[skyscrapergods]

I love your AU and your art! ❤

I was wondering: have you read the comics? They are dubiously canon (some stuff is contradicted by the show, other times the show seems to subtly reference them so... lower tier cannon I guess? Where they can provide some valuable background info, but show canon wins out over comic canon) but they have some interesting stuff. Apple Jack's parents, how Nightmare Moon was created, and what I wanted to mention: The backstory for Cadence, Sombra, and the Crystal Empire.

I can ramble more if you want later (please I love to ramble), but the gist is that it's HEAVILY implied that Cadence is a sort of reincarnation of the Crystal Empire's first ruler/founder. If true, it makes Celestia's decision to make her the ruler of the Crystal Empire make more sense. Heck, near the end of the episode where the Crystal Empire is introduced, a crystal pony calls Cadence THE crystal princess.

Cadence, Sombra, and the Crystal Empire are honestly more intertwined than they seem, in the comics at least.

I just thought you might find this interesting bc it is so fascinating to me :)

I have not read the comics! I probably should, as half the fun of my worldbuilding is making homages to canon.

I'm a bit too deep in the sombra/cadance/nightmare moon lore to change it now. I've got things mostly planned out in my server with my patrons. I could Try though!

Skyscraper Gods Cadance is installed by Celestia to serve Equestria's interests. She is a colonizer upon the crystal empire, stepping into the power vacuum created by sombra's defeat.

If you want the details of everything I've been planning, please join my patreon or ko-fi (new!!!) on anay tier to see and help me worldbuild in real time

There's also some details given during my streams, though this is somewhat outdated. The Rise of Sombra:

The Fall of Sombra:

[angevinyaoiz]

Haha thanks for appreciating my art! 

Yeah, it’s funny because I think Henry II/Young Henry is objectively some of the BEST lesser known Dadson dynamics out there that’s sadly underexplored—you have political bedsharing, “the son and the father are one,” Co-Crowning ceremonies (There should be more dadson AUs that steal the concept of associative kingship) bodies and souls bound together, guilt, shame, divorce, the Love and Fear of faetc etc… 

the only unfortunate thing Is that dadson is generally not something I get super excited about personally. >_< I can see the visions and recommend them but it’s not really what gets me going….I’ll leave that to the pros (tho I DID have some art concepts here and there in mind but who knows if I’ll ever get to it..)

Anyways, back to the main subject—for memory lane look at these, the very FIRST art I did of him I’m pretty sure! Alongside Frederick Barbarossa and Richard. You can tell I was just working directly off random ref images without knowing anything lool

Also this one! Early art. Where he’s extremely shota. I still think this is cute, but it doesn’t look like HIM to me.

I still like these pieces…I had fun with them. I miss putting him in the historically inaccurate green caftan

Philip’s design overall has been an interesting process! I think my initial designs for the Plantagenets have refined over time, but they more or less stayed the same from the beginning, while his was kind of an evolution. It’s a bit hard for me to look at my old Blondelippe art because it’s so different from how I think about and draw him now, lol.  I was initially influenced by a few things:

there were a couple of fanarts/drawings of a Philip that was blonde, so I ran with that .

I think I might have initially mixed up art with that of Philip IV Le Bel, who has had portrayals where he’s a Pretty Blond

In some medieval artworks especially in later centuries, there are portraits of him that look blonde but only because of the stylistic conventions.

Also, my initial fandommy delusion interpretation of his character (when i was mostly dabbling from the TLIW stuff only) was influenced by the certain BL and shoujo archetype that pops up that usually consist of blonde, french-coded characters with childhood sexual trauma who are also guarded and conniving and sometimes straight up evil. so I thought it would be fun to run with that, and also be an obvious visual signifier that I was working in more a Yaoi Delusion state than a Realistic Historical state.

I ended up kind of veering away from this as I started to do more research and realized I was a lot more interested in reading about historical details. I was less familiar with Philip, but I had fun reading and getting to know his character I think a lot more in a way that I liked. My art is influenced by my aesthetic fujo preferences, but I also like a sense of background knowledge and consistency in my brain. For me I wanted the Philip, both the historical philip and the rpf dolly i’ve reconstructed, to feel more specific to me. There are already plenty of conniving blondes out there (I didn’t want people to mistake it for an APH France…lol) so kind of designing him as brunette with the goofy, severe bangs (influenced by his statues, and by the 19th century portrait) was a fun design. It also worked a lot better for black and white comics, like in “In Exchange for Honor,” And as well serves as a nice visual contrast since I draw the brothers + Henry usually as all varying degrees of blonde/redhead… THAT’s for Yaoi aesthetic reasons lol

I’m actually not sure if there IS any info on his hair color in real life, and tbh I guess i’m not interested in that (also he balded so it becomes irrelevant). I think it’s fun because I can draw him very pretty for my delusions if I want but also has a kind of dorkiness to him that I think is extremely important to lean into. I also feel like, I wanted a design that could look distinct and cute, but also could look more Adult if I wanted to, I draw him a kid a lot but I wanted the vibes to translate into older designs as well.

A big part that stands out to me reading about the historical Philip is the contrast between how Serious and Sacral the Frankish kingship is how important Philip was as the god-given heir blah blah blah, but also with how WEIRD he was. Making serious and laudable logistical decisions and policies one moment, but also making baffling and confusing decisions in his personal life and relationships. He’s kind of a mess in a fun way, it leaves a lot for the imagination (and evil imagination) to wonder wtf was up with him. In a way, even though the TLIW richphil dubcon backstory is Completely Made Up, to me I feel it doesn’t feel completely out of place thematically, since to me there’s something inherently sus/erotic about the status of purity/sacralness and the transgression from childhood vulnerability that is necessary to emerge into true power…Anyway I could write more Yaoi Essays but this post is meant to be about aesthetics.

It is impossible to escape the influence of TLIW Timothy Dalton in attitude, even if not in aesthetic, since he is probably the only major portrayal of Philip in the anglosphere I can think of. I feel that influence definitely comes through unavoidably, although I also try to round him out a bit when I write him. TLIW!Philip (in both movies and all plays) is showing him behaving at a very specific point in time; he starts off being condescended to, then exits the film smug and unscathed. It’s a big contrast from even modern Philip portrayals like in Confessions de l’Histoire where he’s more of a whiner and Richard’s punching bag.  

In The Devil’s Crown, Christopher Gable in The Devil’s Crown is a bit more subtle, and follows a more subdued and calculating Philip who grows into his person over time. I like him a lot because he’s very stiff and formal compared to Henry and Richard’s expressive gesticulating, but he holds a lot of disdain and rage inside him.  I think his portrayal in TDC definitely has influenced me a lot, I love how he glowers at Richard during all their encounters. It’s both very serious but also kind of cute…Also I’m entranced by his ballet photos. In a way they kind of cycle all the way back to that ethereal kind of “getting bewitched in the woods” unnerving shoujo feeling that I was originally getting a whiff of originally.

FUNNY ENOUGH, I feel I even still get some influence from….Solomon’s Crown of all things.. I make fun of it of course for its uwufication but for all my haterisms natasha kind of cooked with leaning into the weirdly ageregressiony Pure Special Little Boy feeling that pops up fetishistically in that book (in denial of course), the only difference for me is that I feel like that fetishistic aspect can be used deliciously for Evil (“purity” can be weaponized, after all) character traits rather than making a character Boring as hell

[lurafita]

WWE AU

Okay, so there was a time when I was a little obsessed with WWE. And for whatever reason, I just remembered that.

So, can you picture the guys in a setting like this? Doesn't even have to necessarily be wrestling, maybe more mixed martial arts. But there are cameras backstage and fights and lots of "entertainment".

That training fight scene with Alec and Magnus is living rent free in my head and I would just like more of that, you know?

As it always does, my brain went right to "backstory" Mode.

So, Alec was classicly trained, in a studio, with professional trainers and wrestling and other fighting styles have been practiced in his family for generations and are highly regarded. There is a philosophy to it, a feeling of honor.

Alec's parents actually weren’t happy when their son went to the WWE with his talents, but Alec argued that this might be able to help get the younger generation to look at the sport as something more than bashing each other for the entertainment value of the audience. (And, well, also money. Because while there is a familial wealth to the Lightwood name, Alec would like to be a bit more independent from them. And if he gets famous enough, gets his name out there, maybe he could open up an mma studio where he can then teach kids and adults alike the *real* sport.)

Magnus comes from a poor background and an even poorer neighborhood.

If you didn’t know how to defend yourself, you were prey.

When he was old enough to not be turned away by the guards immediately, he started fighting in underground rings for money.

Fighting was never anything more for him than a means to make enough money to eat and stuff.

One night, a wrestling manager looking for new talent happens to be at one of those underground rings and sees Magnus. He gets signed almost right away.

And just months later, Magnus has money and a measure of security and is rising in fame. Without the worries of his past nibbling at his heels, he lives it up.

Make it grand, make it a show, have some fun!

Fighting was never fun before. It was survival.

But now, Magnus *lives*.

And Alec thinks that Magnus is only in it for the show and the fame and the glory. That he has no respect for the art as it is.

And in a way, he is right.

Magnus doesn't respect the Art of fighting the way others in their line of work do. He didn’t learn it because he wanted to, but because he needed to. He will never feel the things that Alec does where fighting is concerned. But that doesn’t mean he doesn't have his own version of respect for it.

Once Alec understands that, he is even more in awe of Magnus than he was.

They both grow to learn and understand each other, without having to conform to the other's view.

Magnus will never be able to see fighting as something inherently good, but he respects that Alec does.

Alec will never see fighting as a mere tool, be he respects that Magnus does.