#i'm sorry for clickbaiting all of you

[tea-from-apush]

flashback to the one time I did barely identifiable hetalia fanart in my apush notes. no I do not have a picture you are so welcome

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

When will this end, exactly?

Seriously, can I have a specific date or something because I've sure as hell had enough and am begging everyone to just *move on* already.

[museenkuss]

I wish them all the best and hope they heal from this traumatic experience soon, but this leaves such a bad taste in my mouth. They tiktok-ified the whole process of trying for a baby, then the miscarriage, all peppered inbetween date night idea tiktoks and house rennovations content, and now they're doing a 10:11 minute vlog on the experience paired with updates on their new haircolours? Maybe this is cathargic and a way to deal with the tragedy, which is something I don't want to get involved in or speak up about at all, that's not my place in the slightest. But it just makes me think how truly terrible it is to showcase your entire life online to the point where it is now your "brand" and something to sell, since in that case, personal tragedies become content.

They genuinely seem like sweet people and again, I truly wish them all the best, but I hope that they can step back and find some peace without a phone camera involved. Some time to heal, some privacy.

[troglobite]

.

[sorryicantquitequeeryou]

The creators when an article says that a relationship between two characters is unhealthy and toxic:

Been seeing a bunch of those articles with headlines like: "Main Character is TOXIC??" "Character is a Gaslighter!" "The Relationship is Dangerous..." and I just-

So many people act like the creators don't know what they're making. Maybe some don't but a lot, if not most, of creators make shitty characters and bad relationships on purpose. It's a part of the story which you don't need to model your life over or even like. It's just a story that they made, ya know?

[iznsfw]

Reputation, Or Whatever That Is

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 12 - Jang Wonyoung

IVE's Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader Smut

7,063 words

Categories | daddy kink, brat!Wonyoung, squirting, blowjob, please appreciate Wonyoung's power bottom capabilities

Sorry, Yena is coming out sometime but I wanted to finally write something timely. JANG WONYOUNG WHAT THE FUCKKKKK.

Please bear with the religious metaphors, I have Catholic guilt and Wonyoung reignites it. I'm not sorry for all the other fucked up shit here I'm just ooga boogaing because what the FUCK

It’s a little brighter today than usual. The sun surely knows what's about to happen upon its rising. It has no plans of telling you beforehand, so you’re forced to find out yourself. 

You open Instagram, which is insane because you never bother to look at pictures—much less edited, filtered ones made for meaningless impressions. Your blissful ignorance of online concepts is what would make your fans hate you if they had space in their deluded hearts to. Or maybe that’s your age talking.

But today, clicking on that app is what you do, and that already should have been a sign that something’s not right. The usual run of your universe has gone off course. Who could have made that so?

Coffee. The black stillness that’s pure of sweetness and sugar. That’s supposed to keep everything normal. You sip on it as you scroll through clickbait, fan accounts, edits—

Then you wish you never took that hot gulp at all.

Wonyoung. 

It’s all because of her. 

She stands there from behind your screen, silky hair tangled in those lithe long fingers. She’s looking at the camera like she wants whoever took the time to click on her profile to come over and fuck her right now. Man or woman, poor or rich—it doesn’t matter. What ought to matter though is the fact that she doesn’t have someone’s hands slipped around her waist and pulling her close.

You shouldn’t even be thinking about it.

Usually, she’s dressed in knitted pink coats and miniskirts; looking fashionable but modest, modest but unplain. That’s what everyone loves about Jang Wonyoung: she’s prim, sweet, and the daughter of the nation. 

Now, she’s the ideal girl to take right home and have your wicked way with. Yes, you’d feel guilty since she’s so young, just the little age of nineteen. Still, that doesn’t mean you’d have any regrets. She’s the kind of girl you can’t get away from. You’ll always come back for more.

You’d hate to be so upfront, but there’s no other way to interpret it. 

There’s that fucking denim bra hugging her tiny chest, stitched up so high that her abs are on full display. That little pinch of a waist curves so perfectly right up to her wide hips that invite and invite and invite—

Remember to exhale.

So, yeah. That’s how Wonyoung ruined your day, and you barely had your morning coffee.

A text message from your boss appears. You nearly miss it because of how you’re staring all ogle-eyed at the tempting girl on your screen. Before you even click it, you already know what you ought to do. 

hey, it reads, you need to—

-

—go to Wonyoung, and for such a scandalous photo, she’s chosen a remote but classy hotel only the biggest stars know of to shoot it. 

There’s no going back when you drive like you’re running from the law when you’ll break one if you pull the wrong stunt with her. Your throat’s coiled with an unreleased breath that won’t go away unless you see her. It’s like traveling with the promise of meeting a goddess, and although you’re not religious anymore, you wear very, very close to rediscovering faith.

The hotel is grand—clear marble floors and shining chandeliers—and it’s no surprise. Wonyoung wouldn’t have things any other way. You know that when she’s come to your office to complain about her outfits and brands. 

You go up to the desk with prepared evidence for what you’re going to say. “I’m an associate of your client miss Jang Wonyoung,” you say to the lady tapping away behind her computer, “and I’ve come to visit her.”

Associate? It’s more like mentor. You’re a veteran idol whose efforts inspire the rookies, therefore getting you the responsibility of looking out for Wonyoung. So, father figure, maybe? You wince at that.

She makes a polite sad look, still not removing her eyes from the screen. “I’m sorry, miss Jang doesn’t have—”

Slide your ID card on the counter.

She glances at it, stiffens, then looks up at you. There’s only one of you in the entire South Korea, and although the 1x1 traces back to when you were a bit more youthful, it’s not hard to put two and two together. 

She apologizes quickly and offers you an elevator ride exclusive for VVIPs. Smile. It’s been a while since your last return to music, but everyone knows you here. Everyone knows your power.

Wonyoung’s place is the first room on the twelfth floor, a flinching irony.

Knock. You rap your knuckles three times for good luck and charm, because you’ll need it with her. Jang Wonyoung is everything save an easy girl. You remember the many times she refused to give up a debate on how she’s managed, how she’s styled, how she’s treated. She wants things to go her way only.

“Wonyoung,” you call out. Fidget with the handle of the door that refuses to budge. “It’s me.”

Knock a little more. There’s no eye behind the peekhole or a soft “come in.” You receive only the unlocking of the furnished knob and a welcome that makes you wish this could go the way your morals would want it to go.

The door opens you to a gorgeous suite that’s the supreme of all room tiers. This is the kind that only the richest of the rich are able to attain. Big as a house with a soft carpeted ground, there’s a queen-sized bed before a wide window of the city. Picture frames commissioned by the wealthy hang from the painted walls. All for the fucking aesthetic.

Even you, a star who paved the way for the Korean entertainment industry itself, aren’t used to this type of wealth. 

Find her sitting on the ledge of the window frame. Wonyoung has her hands resting on the sides of the window frame. She doesn’t try at least a stance at nonchalance—no admiring stare at the beautiful view, no worried gaze at her clean fingernails. Her interest is you standing before her like you’re afraid to touch her. She might be right, but it’s not like you’d ever have it in you to admit that.

Even you, a man lusted over by girls and women all over the world, aren’t used to this kind of woman—the kind that eats away at you.

“Wonyoung.” Inside, you feel like the weakest man in the world.

She has this smarmy, confident smile on her perfect lips that tells you that it’s no surprise that you’ve come all the way here for her. No surprise at all. She expected it. Anticipated it, if you will.

Don’t mistake the coquettish float of her lashes for theatrics. No, Jang Wonyoung’s just naturally someone you’d want to fuck, no matter the politics of it. “Yes?”

Her voice is also just that pretty. That’s a large part of why it’s so hard to act professional in front of her when she’s your mentee. Even more so by the fact you’re someone she’s looked up to for the majority of her trainee years, which is already something that would make people’s brows lift.

“Wonyoung.” You let your shoulders rest. “Why are you still dressed like that?”

You know all the dialogue that passes around the general public. Oh, Jang Wonyoung’s so gorgeous! Jang Wonyoung’s even more beautiful in real life! You hate to say you can’t disagree. She’s deadlier in person; her body’s there before the glass like she’s waiting for someone to give in to temptation. That coy simper can ruin careers. It can ruin yours. 

To think it all could be gone because of a nineteen-year-old celebrity with a tiny waist and legs you’d love to have around your head.

“Why are you still dressed like someone from the eighties?” Wonyoung taps her chin, then grins. She’s figured it all out. “Oh wait, you are.”

You’re not taking insults from someone who’s below you in experienced years and power. Unluckily, she’s not taking advice from someone above her or below her.

The step you take towards her, towards the little star seated comfortably waiting for you, feels like a sin. 

“You’re incredibly unprofessional for a girl who’s worked her way up here,” you note. Cross your arms and give her a reprimanding look. 

Wonyoung’s immune to nasty looks, too. She’s been doing this since she was a child. If someone gave her a glare that read all too well of a career assassination, she’d wink the bullet away sweetly. “Hm,” she says contemplatively, “I don’t think you get to say that, honestly.”

Your laugh is blunt and sarcastic. Unbelievable. Wonyoung’s the kindest girl according to the people who work for her, so why is she a rebel in your hands? It doesn’t make sense.

“Look here, we—”

You take three steps closer to her. You’ll keep your little rituals and superstitions to keep yourself grounded. Without them, you’d go insane. 

Then without her having to do anything, she comes nearer, like a doomsday foretold by a ticking clock. Who knows? That clock could be a bomb, and that bomb would set off if you dare to touch her with a trembling fingertip. You’d leave the scene injured. And eventually, you’d die the moment they try to help you, because the deed’s been done.

“Oh, I’m looking, alright,” she chirps. She’s doing what you’ve held yourself back from doing: letting her eyes wander. “And I really, really like what I see.”

You’re someone several awards her senior, and you’re still quite intimidated by her at this moment. She’s so sweet yet so honest—she won’t make up a lie to make you feel better and she won’t hide the truth to make you comfortable. Refuse the truth her eyes locked on your crotch tell. You won’t accept it. It’s not right.

“I’m serious.” Approaching her makes you want to go on your knees and beg the lord for a little saving. Do it anyway. No one will rescue you. That’s what the industry taught you. “You’ve made it all the way up here. All by yourself. There’s gotta be something. What are you throwing it all away for?”

She laughs. Funniest thing she’s ever heard. “I’m not. How am I throwing it all away?” 

“Those posts,” you hiss. Doesn’t she get it?

Before she could ask you what you’re talking about, you whip out your phone. Click on the app icon. It instantly shows you the opened tab containing Wonyoung’s recent Instagram posts. Look at her, wrapped in nothing, not even those curtains—giving the camera bedroom eyes when girls her age shouldn’t be shooting them at anyone or be aware of how to. 

It’s already massed a million likes in under an hour. But you know what people who turn on anyone easily will say, and what they say could blot Wonyoung’s bright future by a lot. A million people around the world have caught sight of the abs she’s worked hard for, her toned back, and just about everything. A loud minority with frisky influences can sabotage her whole reputation.

“These posts,” you continue, shoving the screen into the poor girl’s face, “can take away everything you’ve worked for. All that fame, all that money, you can’t brag about them after this.”

Wonyoung looks on innocently. She stares at the screen with uninterested eyes, then switches them back on you. She looks like such a good girl in that second, with her hands seated beside her and that face so full of sparkling perfection. 

Deception can’t lead you away. 

“So, what’s it gonna be, Wonyoung?” 

Long silence that builds up your frustration. Finally, she clicks her tongue. Gives you a shrug of her thin shoulders.

“You liked it.”

“What?”

She points to your phone. “You liked my post,” she repeats. “It says so right there.”

What the hell is she talking about?

You look at the device you’re brandishing. For a while, you can’t find out what she’s referring to. You can never take a liking to her posts, although if they switch on something you didn’t know you can feel. You’d die before—

The heart. 

Wait.

The heart button below her set of pictures is filled with red.

Your heart pumps faster, a button pushed and played.

Fuck.

You turn to her and open your mouth. No sensible words come out. You swear you didn’t tap twice on her update or take it to a private setting. How did it happen? Worse, even if you say that to her, she’d take it as a pathetic lie.

Wonyoung giggles. It’s a tinkly sound that’s adorable, but you’ve long realized that being cute is not all there is to her. She rises slowly, sets her palms over your blazer-clad arms, and gives you an empathetic face. It’s so condescending that you want to dissolve. 

“I know what men like you are all about,” she tells you. She speaks with a sultriness that makes you feel warm and has bumps appearing in masses across your skin.

She smiles. Her eyes disappear into crescent moons and the dimple appears on her cheek. You’re done for. 

“Come on,” Wonyoung continues, squeezing your forearms. “Here you are, a big old man known for being a good singer or whatever. You’re so popular that the first thing that pops up on Naver is your face. Everything goes right for you, doesn’t it?”

You have no idea where she’s going with this. You’re afraid to even ask. Your teeth grit as her massages grow stronger, harder. 

Something else is, too.

“Then, of course, you see me.” 

Her hand. It’s curling around your wrist and bringing your fingers right around that flawless waist. She closes them there tightly.

It’s so bad that it’s good. You want to keep touching her, maybe slip your gliding fingers down her jeans. Oh, you shouldn’t. You can’t.

“You see me, and you get all hot and bothered. And what’s so funny is I’m not even doing anything. I’m just being myself, you know. Being young and rich… a beautiful girl…” Wonyoung is unbuttoning your shirt and you don’t realize it. “You can’t understand how I’m allowed to be this hot when you can’t even fuck me with a normal conscience.”

It’s all so wrong. You want to shake her by the shoulders and tell her to shut up. But if Medusa has her eyes, Wonyoung has her lips to turn you to stone. They keep opening elegantly to speak the filthiest, most fucked up shit, and you can’t deny anything.

Her eyes are creased with knowing pride. Her youth doesn’t rescue her from being so messed in the head already. Those thoughts don’t go along with such a pretty face.

“That’s why you like to get rough with me. You tell me to watch how I speak, watch how I act. You tell me to stop talking to you like you’re no one. You tell me that I’m such a little brat. But you only do that so you can get to control me. That’s your most fucked up dream, right?”

Her mouth is the tiniest space away from your chin. 

You’re another word away from saving yourself a spot in damnation.

Her finger that scratches a flaw on your blazer beckons you to the fire. “You’re not breaking the law or anything,” says Wonyoung, “so why not break me instead, daddy?”

That’s a deal sealed with a rough kiss.

You grab her cruelly and cover her lips with yours. They’re more amazing than you imagined, soft and competent with how she pushes in deeper, depriving herself of the air she needs the most just to get what she needs just a bit more:

You. 

Your tongues collide and clash, striving to get the most taste. She pulls your blazer off (because fuck professionalism, right?) while she kisses you with a hunger that’s equally mental and physical. It’s not like she’d bruise up if you didn’t get your hands on her yet it’s close to that. 

And, in your case, it’s not like you’re breaking any law. She’s nineteen, not anywhere under the limits you’d kill others and yourself for touching. Nonetheless, you’re much older—by age, she could be your daughter; by career, she’s your junior; by power, you’re much stronger. 

So, it’s still so wrong.

Can’t be when Wonyoung’s fist, firm around your cock, feels so right. 

Can’t be when she lands on the edge of the bed with her lips parted in delight as she watches your dick stiffen under her service. 

“There you go, daddy,” she coos, smirking. “Just get all hard for me, then you can stuff that big thing up in my pussy.”

Her thumb toys with your cockhead. You purse your lips to hold back a groan. Let go of it anyway when her smooth, closed palm rubs your sensitive flesh. She cups your balls lovingly before gliding her teasing fingertips under your length, right up to your tip. The girl knows how to do this; she’s good at more things other than MCing and performing.

Wonyoung hones this skill with firmer pumps, giving you the handjob of a lifetime. Her long fingers are just made to handle dick. Each stroke is perfection that holds and pulls and slides. You’re leaking so much already. 

So you turn into the driver of the hate train, the press that loves getting her bad angles and the articles that slash up her name:

Blame it all on her. 

Because you have here a girl, young and pretty and confident, so of course you have to scrape off your sins and nail them all on her, like a quivering hand to wood.

“You think you’re getting it that easily?” you say. Your moan is squeezed in your throat. “Baby, you’re not even close to it.”

Wonyoung smirks. It’s that self-assured, elegant smile that tells you that won’t work on her. She might be a rookie, but she knows how to play the game. 

She tightens her grip painfully. That’s what you get for trying to one her up. Do that to anyone, just not Jang Wonyoung. Your cry goes unheard as she yanks you rather than jerks you off. Spits on your head for good measure. Wonyoung’s eyes make a connection with your soul and says, Yep, that’s what I’d do if you weren’t my senior. In fact, I’d do it regardless. I’d choke and spit and leave you to die, because a pretty Samaritan is better than a good one.

“You’re really out of touch, daddy.” 

With Wonyoung slathering her drool all over you, you’re forced to teeter on the line between heaven and hell. It burns yet the offer of pleasure leaves you sated.

“You think I’m like the pretty girls out there? Other girls might have broken down and begged you to come back.” 

Your rod is subjected to a brief torrid kiss, then a smile as the wicked girl looks up at you.

She laughs, gives you this smile full of haught and womanly power. “Too bad I’m Jang Wonyoung,” she says, her last words before taking you in.

Yes, it’s too bad she’s Jang Wonyoung. It’s too bad she’s not the other girls who’d kneel for a burning touch of stars like you. She wouldn’t be holding control over you with the power of her lips if she had sanity in that pretty head.

Her plump tiers wrap around you and seize everything, encasing it in softness and wetness. Her tongue, the one she uses as a killer expression for her selfies and Instagram updates, kills you all the same with how it swirls around your skin and tastes you. Trying to pretend the girl wasn’t a pro at this like she is with everything else is useless. She’ll keep proving you wrong and overpowering you.

The whole of your shaft is sucked in, then, when her cute nose is pressed directly to your stomach, she lets out a hummed laugh. You shudder—as much as it makes you feel good, fear grips your muscles and makes them limp. She’s loving how wrong everything is, and you’re not sure if you like it.

Her jaw slacks, and then Wonyoung’s swallowing you like you’re water. Can’t be water when you’re this solid in her throat. You let out a shivering groan. You can picture the bulge in Wonyoung’s neck and it’s the last thing you’d count on turning you on, but they did tell you to expect the unexpected. 

Her saliva becomes excessive, resulting in some dribbles down her chin that help her work her mouth on you. Wonyoung’s drool sheens you entirely and she keeps adding more. On the occasion she pushes her face into your stomach, your cock gets wetter. She does, too. 

“Fuck.” Cussing won’t help deter the onslaught of pleasure. You’re unsalvageable. Say it anyway. You babble meaningless, slurred words and not one gets to Wonyoung. All she can hear is the sound of your quivering moans and her mouth taking you all in.

She becomes less of an idol, less of the elegant princess for the cameras, and instead a fleshlight. However, she reminds you that it isn’t that way with a fierce sneer that stays on at all times. She’s not your girl—she’s Jang Wonyoung, and you’re already incredibly lucky that she chose to go down on you.

All that beautiful hair isn’t of any purpose if you don’t get to touch it, to gather it in a ponytail, to pull on it. Your fingers creep into her brown locks not only to give it a little meaning but also for sanity. 

That isn’t a thing in Wonyoung’s world. She pulls your hand off and slaps it on your side. “No,” she says with a shake of her head. “Daddy can’t touch me, not when he’s pretending that he’s hot shit.”

Her nails bury themselves in your hips. Oh, the manicured talons of a gorgeous monster. Oh, the pain that runs through your sides. Should you run before she devours you? Too late for that.

“Wonyoung,” you breathe, and then ask, genuinely: “What the hell is wrong with you?”

She’s so proper and serene on her shows that not even her most desperate fan would think she’s a terror. They don’t know she’s a girl who likes older, weaker men who’d ruin her if she hasn’t the pretty face and attractively black heart to do them the favor instead. 

“What’s wrong with you?” 

You’d respond if you knew the answer.

Wonyoung rubs her thumb under your dick, sending little sparks aflying. “Why’d you kiss me earlier?” Her lipstick decorates it as a kinder girl would to your face. “Why didn’t you grab my hair and tell me to be a good girl? Why didn’t you leave? It’s not my fault you want to fuck me.”

All these words of destruction and your cock remains standing. It’s a staunch reminder to her that you can say whatever you want and the hard evidence remains. You want to fuck Wonyoung. You want to do it to a rookie who’d turn the story around on you if it ever came out. You want to fuck her so bad it’s borderline pitiable.

“I’m just giving you what you want, daddy.” Her fingers caress your sides. “Trust me, I could be a very good girl if I wanted to.”

You almost didn’t believe that until Wonyoung started to suck you off again. 

Her lips stroke you effortlessly as if this were her pastime. That’s your most accurate guess, because this seamless performance—the one of her mouth working on you with the impression that this whole thing is nothing to her—can’t be a natural gift. The combination of dripping saliva and her soft lips is lethal.

It’s unbelievable how she manages to find all your tender spots. She preys on them, licking and licking until you’re very sure you were going to blow all over her. But you can’t give her that satisfaction. 

You’re very close to doing so though. She’s perfectly sloppy and rough. You glare at her when she lightly teases her teeth on your girth. She winks at you in response. She leaves you breathless in so many ways. 

“Wonyoung, Wonyoung, god—” you whine. It’s so hard to adapt to the girl sitting there with that innocent face and wild mouth that doesn’t dare give up on you. 

Her expressions on camera are always poised. Off camera, there’s this one she flashes you as she shoves her face into your stomach that looks downright evil. Although she’s already fucking you with her throat, Wonyoung partners it with strong suction that’s sure to drain you. 

“Yes, daddy?” She doesn’t pant when she goes up for air, replacing her sucking with her long fingers. 

“I’m really close,” you admit. It’s obvious from your shaking legs. 

Sounds of returned wet suction start to increase. Criticism and compliments prod Wonyoung on. How else would she improve in her idol life? In blowing you? In devouring you?

You realize you’re fitting the cliché. There’s you, an idol whose name is uttered on the daily by both young and old fans, igniting a scandal in the making by fucking a girl beneath you in everything. There’s this expensive suite where stars go for a little precious privacy to do what they want. There’s the two of you doing exactly what you desire: fucking each other. There’s the classic maneater trope with how it’s more like Wonyoung fucking you—she fucks you with her face, fucks you in the head, fucks with your righteousness. Well, fuck.

Wonyoung drools so much that you’re invited to a sea the moment your head pushes past her tongue again. It’s slicker, sloppier, and so much sexier because she’s so completely devoted to your cock. Her hypnotizing eyes trap you and so does her body, tight and tiny—that tummy is flatter than a board and only thin panties hide what her long legs lead to from the bottom.

The only time she stops sucking you is when she darts her tongue side to side with an unhinged pace on your sensitive tip. “Good. Cum in my throat.”

“Shit, god, I can’t—”

Wonyoung attacks you again, and there, in her warm orifice, your plentiful orgasm spends itself. Her throat welcomes you tightly every time. Her hot restricted breaths fan your groin and evokes more semen that spills with no care. 

Your hands ball into fists. Although you’re hot and shaking, you can’t touch her. Why are you following her rules when it should be the other way around? It’s a reversal of roles, a Stockholm’s Syndrome of some sorts whose victim is your cock never wanting to leave from the predatory embrace of Wonyoung’s puckered kiss.

Of course, after she gathers all of your cum in the pool of her mouth, she swallows.

She really could be a good girl.

“Awh.” Wonyoung pouts mockingly. “Daddy, are you crying?”

Touch your face. To your horror, she’s right. The electricity and shock of her continuous blowjob results in a few tears on your cheeks. You haven’t done that in years. Wonyoung is the first one to make you cry like this.

You flush. What more to hide your weakness than anger? “Wonyoung,” you start, then you realize you don’t know what to say, “I—you—”

She smiles. You aren’t going anywhere.

She shoves you to the bed. You’ve reached rock bottom in spite of the softness of the quality pillows. You’ll scrape your way out if not for Wonyoung finishing the job by keeping you there assisted by her legs. They close around you with not even a courtesy false promise of an escape. No negotiation, no coaxes. 

Wonyoung is sitting on your crotch but not on your dick, which is a problem. Which is a solution. Her hands are pinned to your chest while you try not to meet her eyes. It’s a losing game when your runaway glances are met by her grinding hips, silky thighs, and the hard, flexing abs of a perfection of a midriff. 

Her fingers tug on the waistband of her panties before slowly slipping them off. Her pink pussy clear of blemish or hair comes in contact with your length. Up and down she goes, her dancing hips always seeking for more friction. You understand their need because you share the same—Wonyoung’s splayed lips on your member feel heavenly. It’s kind of disappointing that she might as well have climbed her way out of hell.

If she did, she’s the prettiest little devil you’ve ever seen.

“Ohhh, don’t you get it?” Wonyoung asks. She moves so smoothly, you nearly forget she’s humping you rather than dancing. Her soft moan brings you back. It’s the first time you’ve heard it, and you’re melting; it sounds so seductive and innocent in the same breath.

You know her. She knows you. So it’s clear: Jang Wonyoung can be anything—supermodel, actress, dancer—but she cannot ever be innocent. 

Her gorgeous voice is silky when it twists into moans and gasps. Looking down at your crotches meeting and swaying is a better show than end-of-the-year performances. The blowjob and commanding you around must have turned her on by a lot—her flesh is hot and wanton with juices as it slides up and down you.

“You’re not going anywhere, daddy!” Wonyoung giggles. She kisses your nose, then your chest until her lipstick marks you. You burn up with feverish lust after each peck. “Daddy is only Wonyoung’s. And I knew your perfect cock would be mine when I posted those pics. I know men like daddy would do anything for me.”

“Wonyoung.” Breathe again, because you’ll need to after this, so why not do it now? “Why are you doing this?”

You thought her flirtatiousness in your office was just her coyness coming out to play. She’d rest her chin on your desk, suck a red lollipop on some days, maybe run her fingertips over your knuckles. Day in and out, she plays the same game. You didn’t know it would reach this level.

“Because I want to mess you up, daddy,” Wonyoung says. Her tongue swipes at the cavern of your mouth right until she nibbles at your lower lip. Her lipstick peppers your face. “I want to fuck my daddy up so bad he’ll never go a day without thinking of me.”

Swallow. The friction of your sexes is driving you crazy and close to the edge. All the same, you don’t want to make a fool of yourself cumming early for Wonyoung. 

What happened to your dynamics? Your relationship? There wasn’t a romantic one, but it was always you holding the reins professionally and her just being an insistent passenger. Now she’s wrapping that rein around your neck and claiming you for her own. Looks like you have control everywhere excluding the bed.

“That’s it?” you ask. Shut your eyes—just seeing her grind on you with her utterly wet cunt can make you bust. “Your career doesn’t matter to you?”

“I could say the same thing to you.” Wonyoung lifts herself up and flashes that wicked smile again. “But I want to feel this in me before you wimp out.”

You and Wonyoung fall down a bottomless hole of consequence and wrongs but Wonyoung makes sure to bottom out the first time she sits on your dick. She engulfs you whole and traps you there with her soaked, grippy walls that slide all the way down. 

You’d say her pussy has a vise grip, holding onto you like all goes wrong if it didn’t, except you think it has the grip of a vice. Need for her juices that coat you replaces the need for alcohol. Even if you get out of this suite alive, (which is a low possibility), you can see yourself always coming back for more. You could be addicted to anything—smoking, eating, cheating—but it just so happened your vice is Wonyoung.

“Daddy!” she yelps, and from there you can’t count the times she slams her cute butt down your thighs. “Oh my god, daddy!”

Her dainty, cute yells make you throb inside her. Perhaps it’s the kittenish quality of it that turns you on so much. She sounds so appealing, so fucking ruinable that it’s surprising to see that she’s doing the ruining here. Her expression in bed is more animated than the ones she makes onstage—her nearly closed eyes look upwards while her mouth falls open. 

The squeeze of her tight, wet cunt renders your knees weak. It’s a good thing you’re lying down. Wonyoung makes sure you stay that way by penetrating herself with you over and over again. Her being barely a weight on you doesn’t stop you from lying there uselessly. You know better by now not to challenge her, not when each time you enter her vagina is better than the last. Her pussy is slippery and tight, proving to be the smallest and the best fit for your shaft simultaneously. Her hole is too tight and too good. 

“Is this all for me, daddy? Huh?” Wonyoung circles her hips, making you moan, then continues her up-and-down movements. “You’re so hard, you naughty daddy. I know you got a b-boner when you looked at my posts. Now I’m giving you another one.”

You always thought of Wonyoung as justifiably confident yet arrogant. She told you once at your desk that she doesn’t deserve a stylist who only has a four-star rating. She lamented about the lack of competence of her staff preparing her comeback stage. All those you turned down to give the topics of her complaints the benefit of the doubt, but you know she’s right. She doesn’t deserve less when she’s better than the best. She doesn’t deserve less when she knows her place: a royal throne. So you can’t deny that she’s too hot to handle, undiscriminating to you whose connections always have impossibly beautiful women somewhere in there.

She’s so hot that her small breasts bouncing from behind that denim bra and tube top looks appealing. She’s so hot that the heat between her legs grows wetter. She’s so hot that when her soft ass crashes down on you again, you don’t find it a repetitive bore. 

She’s so hot that you’d let the slim, tall girl use you until dusk turns to dawn, even if the curtains behind her are drawn apart and the secret cameras get to snap a photo.

“Shit, Wonyoung,” you say, your core squeezing. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“I bet you’ve thought about this, daddy. You thought that one night, I’ll be so bad that you could book us a whole hotel and fuck me in all the rooms, just like this one. I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Yes, fuck yes.”

“You wanted to open my legs and use my little pussy all day long, huh? Until I’m yours to throw around and do whatever?”

“Y-yes.” Nod. Your face twists—she shouldn’t speak when she’s fucking you because all the filth she says makes you want to blow inside her already. It’s the kind of truth that arouses rather than hurts.

Wonyoung’s riding switches to a rapid intensity that makes you yell. She lets you in so deep to the point that her butt cheeks touch your heavy balls. She’ll drain them for sure; the pace she sets is terrifyingly quick. It seems that she becomes tighter after each bounce, and it’s not helping you hold out at all.

Watch the wildness in Wonyoung’s eyes become animalistic. It makes you all the more certain now of one solid fact: there is something seriously wrong with Jang Wonyoung.

She smirks. “Well, you got it wrong. I’m not all yours, daddy.” She leans down, resting her palms on your shoulders. “You are all mine.”

Her hands might as well be a chained collar waiting to close around your neck. Her devilish simper is supposed to scare you, not turn you on. Somehow, it does both. 

She flicks back her hair as she sits up again. Through it all, her riding doesn’t stop. “This cock?” she asks before slamming her pussy down it with a different kind of ferociousness. Cry out but she shuts you up with a furious kiss. “It’s gonna be my dirty secret. I’ll always go to daddy after my schedules so I can make him cum—over and over again.”

To think that a young girl like her has you at her beck and call is laughable, but there’s no laughing now. As you stare at Wonyoung’s fluid body and her hair bouncing beautifully, you realize she actually can have you for herself. It only took one Instagram post to lure you to her. She sees you’re falling deeper and deeper for her.

She didn’t exactly tell you how to escape.

“You gonna cum, daddy? Is my perfect pussy milking you?” 

You can do nothing except nod.

“Of course, I can feel you throbbing, i-it’s making me lose it,” gasps Wonyoung. Her whines are making you lose it yourself. “Let’s cum together, okay? You can only cum when you feel Wonyoung squirt all over your massive cock.”

She squeezes tighter on top of you when she reaches down to rub her clit. She’s in search of any kind of stimulation: the slap of her ass on your thighs, the upward shoves of your erection, the pulse of her clit. Her moans increase in their whiny girlishness. Their tender vulnerability makes you think she should be the one underneath your body though you’re aware that’s never going to happen. Wonyoung belongs on top, just the same with her name in first place in the list of brand reputation rankings, browser searches, followers.

Once upon a time, you took charge over her. You managed her lessons, her videos, her behind-the-scenes duties. Funny how it’s the opposite now, wherein she jounces on you freely with the domineering message of caution: don’t cum until she does.

And god, is she making that hard. Everything about her is so attractive, from the bounce of her hair to her midriff showing your entering cock to her pretty pink pussy clutching you. What gets you, however, is her face—everyone loves looking at that face. Today, you’re under an aphrodisiac for it: you’re in love with the roll of her eyes as she rides you, the pink on her cheeks, the part of her lips. 

“Fuck yes! Ugh, daddy, you feel so good inside me…” Wonyoung’s core clenches and slides your penis along its textured, sensitive walls. Her gasp is straight out of fantasies. “You’re balls deep, see? Look how your meat’s filling me. My pussy’s going to be so sore after this.” She chuckles. “Wait, who says we’re stopping?”

You shudder. You’re getting very close. Your earlier orgasm still has its effects on you. You’re afraid you’re going to do something you shouldn’t under her bedroom law. She’ll imprison you with her thighs and waterboard you with all the girl cum she promised until you confess that she’s the best fuck you ever had. 

“Daddy’s going to cum so hard he’s probably going to breed me. Then I’ll, oh, I’ll feel it inside my tummy and it’s going to be a scandal. Wouldn’t you like that? Getting to knock up Jang Wonyoung? I can hear you moaning. I think you really like that. I think that’s why you’re thrusting up in me. You want to be a real daddy and make your baby girl a mommy. That’s so fucked up, you know that, right? You shouldn’t be having sex with me, let alone breeding me. But you’re a fucking weak old man, so of course you like that.”

You’re burning up. They’re the signs of what’s to come. If her confident words inspire her young fans, her monologues of lust make you feel like you’re the worst person in the world. Of course, the boner is part of the effect. 

You groan. “Wonyoung, baby girl, please—”

“Oh god, daddy, I’m going to cum!” she squeals. Her emotions control her and tell her to go harder, bounce harder, squeeze harder. She’s pushing past her limits. “Agh, agh, you’re cumming, too, right? Cum for me. You’ll be—fuck, my daddy’s going to make me cum! I’m squirting all over his cock!”

She slams herself down roughly and repeatedly till your lower body’s flooded with her cum. You can’t take it anymore. It feels like dying because you swear you can see stars in the ceiling, stars of lust in her eyes. La petite mort. How poetic, since Wonyoung’s screaming still sounds as beautiful as her singing and speaking. 

Her shouts are close to breaking the windows’ glass. Anyone can figure out what’s happening without the destruction of the pane—the curtains are wide open, letting the world see the youngest icon of the new generation pumping herself onto her co-worker. 

You wonder if there’s actually poor watchers out there seeing you cream Wonyoung’s princess pussy, grab her ass to guide her, and kiss her when she leans down.

Wonyoung tastes the best when she’s squirting.

-

Consequences always catch up no matter what. You can hide under a cloak, in another country, underneath the earth in a secluded bunker and all that won’t help. You’ll be stuck dealing with the outcome, thorns from a rose you thought was too pretty to have some. 

That’s the first thing you remember when you wake up, wrapped in the bed sheets and by Wonyoung’s arms. Someone’s calling you. Bad news: it’s your boss—the ringtone itself sounds angry, too. 

“Hello?” you ask. You can’t help the grogginess of your morning voice, try as you may. If your boss didn’t know what happened, he can perfectly guess from the exhaustion riddling your greeting. 

“You dumb little shit.” You can feel the spittle of your boss’ insult from miles away, cities away, screens away. “You’re lucky I’m friends with the fucking CEO.”

“What happened?”

“Don’t give me that. Some janitor saw you from the wing. I needed to hear it from you: did you fuck Jang Wonyoung?”

Unexpectedly, a veiny hand you remember holding something else grabs your phone. Wonyoung leans against your shoulder wearing nothing as she holds the phone to her ear.

“Why?” she quips, loud and clear. “Wouldn’t you?”

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

pt IV good omens but all i know is i watched three episodes on a stream with you all

Three hours being in a server with good omens fans in the wild *insert random emojis to sound like optimum clickbait youtuber except this ain't clickbait*

Okay I woke up. Before everything just WASHES out of my brain, I'm gonna describe whatever happened last night best as I can, because that's what I do.

Some of you were unable to attend the stream, and were sad. But don't worry I got you guys here's the rundown:

people joined the server. people were confused. i was afraid. i was assured that i should be, which was meant to comfort me.

people introduced themselves. someone said they had worked in a brothel as a bartender, which was cool, they said they had many stories. they did not elaborate for fear of scaring the newcomers. The newcomers, aka, me, were already scared, and it was not of the brothel stories.

I brought an emotional support orange with me. It looked uncomfortable. I thought it would be rotten. It was not, but we would not know that until later.

@thescholarlystrumpet entered fabulously, and started the stream.

i didn't realise the show had started for a good two minutes because there was a random voice over that was telling us about Earth's star sign (Libra) and somehow that didn't compute in my brain as being part of the episode. I thought we were checking audio.

It turned out, the episode had begun, and everyone was acting like this is a completely normal way for a show to start.

We time-jumped from the fall of man to modern day society so fast that I got whiplash.

There were a lot of orgasmic noises. I asked why. I was told in no uncertain terms that those were screams of labour. I'm sorry to everyone who has given birth ever.

There were three babies. I tried to keep track, it was hard. I thought the Antichrist won prizes for tropical fish. I was wrong.

I fell in love with Crowley and his hips and was very gay on the chat. This was heartily applauded.

I didn't realise an hour had passed when the episode ended, which it seemed was to be a common theme. I said nothing happened which everyone found funny for some reason.

I was very concerned about Armageddon. Everyone assured me that it would take place over the course of the season. I asked why we'd speedrun through millennia in five minutes but eight days took several episodes. I was a naive fool. Time is a social construct and this show cares not for social constructs.

They fucked up the mission. This was also to be a common theme.

I begged for a break and had to shake my head to try and get the brain rot out. I did not succeed.

The second episode commenced. The intro concerned me, because the cartoon Aziraphale looked pregnant or like a chicken. I asked if Crowley had impregnated him. He had not.

The pornography scene had to be replayed because I was so lost and had not relished it properly.

There was a lot of crying on the chat. Every few minutes someone would say a normal sentence in English and everyone would respond with crying emojis. Needless to say, I was concerned. This was also to be a common theme.

I asked why we were talking about random children. I was told it was The Them and they were the Antichrist's friends. I liked the hellhound.

I wanted to adopt the Antichrist, and grew more thirsty for Crowley every time he was a casual accessory to murder. I'm relying on this fandom not to use this as evidence with the cops. The chat was not reassuring, they said maybe.

I thirsted for Crowley more. This was also to be a common theme.

Aziraphale was very cute, I realised. That was nice. It was not nice when he had gay panic and said mean things to Crowley and they broke up. This was also to be a common theme.

I got so gay for Crowley that I ate the emotional support orange. It was gaseous. The chat was concerned, and everyone got excited every time oranges were mentioned after.

The third episode was a fucking roller coaster. Crowley and Aziraphale were your average high school couple but biblical for 6000 years.

Both were casual accessories to murder, and sometimes the cause of the murders, before going out for a date. Crowley got horny and he stopped listening every time Aziraphale ate. This was also to be a common theme.

The chat was keeping count of the husband breakups. This was not nice.

The Bentley was silver in many scenes, and people were forced to concede that they saw it. I was smug.

Crowley was sexy. She served gender, or as some people in the chat said, she served cunt. Her hairstyles got better and better. No one liked the 60s one. I did. I like everything she does. I love him.

Things happened. The fandom infected me. Someone mentioned how the book said Crowley felt lonely. I was near tears.

Crowley walked down the aisle for Aziraphale. We all were happy.

The book case, the thermos, the bandstand. I was broken.

Everyone said very emotional goodbyes.

I made a post on tumblr that was absolutely incomprehensible but accurately conveyed my love for Crowley. I fell asleep.

Same time next week, I believe.

I hope this was an adequate summary of the livestream for everyone, I am broken irreparably and if anyone mentions the bandstand I will have to start drinking and not stop till I get a happy ending. I cannot afford alcohol. I will ferment grapes myself if I have to.

[audrey-emeralds]

instagram au - jacob elordi x influencer!reader

_______________________________________

august 26, 2023

ynyln

_______________________________________

august 27, 2023

ynylntracks

@ynyln posted she is in Norway!!! Really interested to see who she is with. We will probably see her with @ynsfriend!

_______________________________________

jacobelordi

_______________________________________

trending #jacobelordigirlfriend

jacobcrushinmee

who is sheeeeee, aaaa is jacob off the market!!!!!!!

euphoria.freak223

yall calm down! it was just a story, they didn't do nothin 😒

comicallycassie

hey, she could be just a friend 🤷🏼‍♀️

perez-madeleine

Who are you all trying to fool? Didn't you hear the freaking SONG he put!!!!!!!!

booth.jocobfann

wait a second, just till I start tracking that umbrella's location

______________________________________

september 2, 2023

ynyln

10,021 likes

ynyln When your bf recommends a book, you have to give it a shot

View all 167 comments

booktokgirlyyy your boyfriend has got TASTE

sophviolets i need to finish reading this

clickbait-content1 bf as in boyfriend?

poetcrafts the snow in the mountains was melting, and bunny had been dead for several weeks before we came to understand the gravity of our situation

blossom.touch3s Omg y/n who is it

_______________________________________

september 22, 2023

ynyln

_______________________________________

october 3, 2023

celebritiestoday

3,214 likes

celebritiestoday Jacob Elordi was seen yesterday night with what appears to be his girlfriend. Her name is yet unknown, as is their relationship status. What are your thoughts, is this a new relationship for Euphoria actor or nothing serious?

View all 530 comments

julesfromtheparty oh no, that is serious

dailyeuphoriafan and you all said his story was nothin, where you at now???

perez-madeleine I CALLED IT!

jelordi1stanns AH! NEW RELATIONSHIP

wendynotwilliams that's not sydney, right?

locally-chaotic12 that ain't serious

elordijacobs until it's officially confirmed, i am staying quiet

1989.album221 JACOBB

raw-euphoria-react @jacobelordi care to explain this 🧐

_______________________________________

trending #jacobelordigirlfriend

slimchanceswitcelebs that has to be THE girlfriend

marscitinzen jacob better say it out loud, otherwise, i ain't believing it

jacobsworkingeuphoria this relationship about to be public

_______________________________________

december 18, 2023

ynyln

22,005 likes

ynyln enjoying switzerland!

@ynsfriend1 @ynsfriend2 @ynsfriend3 @jacobelordi

View all 2,207 comments

poetcrafts oh it must be beautiful in person!

fan.fanning ahhhhhh i'm sorry, what

popelordiculture JACOB IS TAGGED

fanofynyln321 girl, you think we wouldn't notice the tag

jacobcrushinmee omg! she is the girl from the storyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

nate.euphoria1923 pose if you two are dating 📸

ynylntracks SHE IS WITH NATE JACOBS

rosie.b.smith you were a secret for monthsss

mitchbitch she has got to be the girl from the paparazzi photos

chlooethecriminal girl we have seen you two before, internet NEVER FORGETS

_______________________________________

december 19, 2023

trending #jacobelordigirlfriend

stellamonroe not you people finding out who my girl yn is just now 😂

popelordiculture should have stalked his following sooner 😒

hissingteenage.girl JACOBBB you can't be doing me like this when I just saw you in saltburn 😭

oxfordsalt1 bruh too soon, jacob you didn't even give us a chance

jacob.elordifan283 i guess that means i am single 😔

[sequencefairy]

@ everyone who is catastrophizing: they're not taking their old content off youtube:

However, according to Bergara, Watcher is not fully exiting YouTube: It will still keep its backlog of videos on YouTube, and going forward will put the first episodes of new seasons on YouTube — while the full new seasons will be exclusively available on the Watcher streamer.

Source: VARIETY ARTICLE LINKED RIGHT HERE READ IT

also yes, i am sure they have thought this through, carefully and with much discussion with their staff, their partners and themselves. this is not a decision taken lightly or without deep consideration.

unfortunately, they, like all the rest of us, are allowed to make a living and their 27 staff and employees are also allowed to make a living. episodes of Ghost Files, as an example, cost hundreds of thousands of dollars to make. neither the patreon nor the youtube ad revenue, even combined, cover that + their additional overhead.

i'm sorry to folks who cannot afford the new subscription service, but the boys have also encouraged password and account sharing, so i suggest you hook up with a couple of fandom friends and share an account the way i am going to.

there's a real disconnect in this fandom about the true costs associated with the content that we enjoy and have consumed, essentially for free, for years. that watcher was even able to remain sustainable as the youtube landscape became more and more hostile to creators who did not make clickbait nonsense, is amazing. this is a necessary and vital change to the model in which their content is released. it gets them out from under the youtube algo, keeps them from being demonetized and getting nothing at all for a video that costs tens of thousands of dollars to make, and will hopefully free them up to be able to pursue things they have been unable to pursue while being tied into the youtube space.

sorry that you are no longer getting content for free, but being able to directly pay the creators of the content for their time, energy, and effort, is way more appealing to me than having to watch fucking unskippable youtube ads about sports betting.

[prettyinpwn]

Does anyone else feel like... something new is brewing for GF?

Sorry I've been posting a lot out of the blue after months of inactivity, but, you all get it... the GF fixation train comes and goes.

Anyways, I'm getting some spidey senses going on about GF lately. There's The Book of Bill coming out, Alex Hirsch doing an interview with ThatGFFan and Fordtato/Hana Hyperfixates (you folks are awesome btw), Alex himself has been super, super quiet for a while as far as I know...

I especially am a bit curious about why The Book of Bill is being released so many damn years after the show was released. There's no big anniversary coming up (the 10 year passed in 2022), the show is - let's just admit it so I can feel like the old ass lady I am - old itself, and usually stuff like this gets greenlit around other materials for promo reasons.

My point is, is usually something like The Book of Bill, you'd expect to have been released long ago to capitalize on the show's success post-finale, like how Journal 3 and Lost Legends were published. But... all of the sudden 10+ years down the line, we're seeing stuff like the soundtrack vinyl, the Bill purse, and I believe there were Ford and Stan plushies iirc, and now The Book of Bill being released.

And there are details about these two things that are... weird. The soundtrack had a full version of "We'll Meet Again" with all the characters voiced by Alex Hirsch (e.g Bill, Stan, Soos, McGucket, etc). Very strange thing to be added to the record, hm... and The Book of Bill is set to be more adult in flavor.

I'll just bluntly state it: I think they're testing the waters for more Gravity Falls with a more adult audience, capitalizing on old as dust fans like me who were active when the series aired, plus newer fans given Gravity Falls' seemingly evergreen appeal. Like I'm about... 80% certain on this. I'm not saying this to clickbait anyone but it really feels like something new is on the horizon. I'm not saying it's a new show, maybe comics or some sort of prequel or continuation in another medium, but my spidey senses are tingling, like I said.

Does anyone else feel the same, or am I just... too hopeful?

[starfallforest]

Stop putting 'Too Sweet' by Hozier in your Sylus playlists

I am sorry—this was clickbait. I don’t actually care what you do with your life. But I need you to hear me out for just a second, okay? I am extremely not neurotypical about two things: Love and Deepspace, and Andrew John Hozier-Byrne. And I have seen more than one person in the tags talk about "Too Sweet" by Hozier being a perfect song for Sylus and MC. My only discourse about this is that Too Sweet is a song about a man who makes continuous self-sabotaging life decisions being incompatible with a partner who has her life put together. In my humble opinion, both Sylus and MC are hot messes of people in completely different ways. Anyway, it’s a good song so I don’t blame you for putting it in every playlist ever. In fact, you should. But if you're into this song, I want to show you a couple more pls pls pls 🙏​

I might just be autistic, but both Hozier's music and Love and Deepspace have something extremely important in common… and that’s BEAUTIFUL MEN YEARNING!!!1 And that’s not even to mention the haunting, raw sexuality we can project onto the stories that each of these things feeds to us. That's why I needed to make this post on the 1% chance that someone might hop on this brainrot train with me. So let me present, for just a moment of your time (if you're willing): other Hozier songs that fit Sylus so well I want to combust about it.

De Selby (Parts 1 & 2):

“At last, when all of the world is asleep You take in the blackness of air The likes of a darkness so deep That God—at the start—couldn't bear.” [azlyrics] [gaelic translation]

Imagine just casually writing THE love song that so beautifully says, “Before you were in my life, I kinda understood how God felt before he created the universe.” Excuse me? Andrew just dropped this stanza on us without so much as a cw: fuck you. And if that sickening portrait of gnawing loneliness isn’t enough, we have all the Genesis God references. Since all the LIs in the game are at some point likened to gods or rivaling gods with their power, then add the reverberating instrumentals and chillingly slow vocals in this 2-minute killer, tell me how this song does not fit Sylus. Not only that, but we also have imagery of his lover descending upon him like the night (which is invoked during Part 1 in the Gaelic verse), and I know that’s on the nose for Sylus but come on. I need you guys writing smut to have an orgasm during De Selby (at least Part 2) because it might change ur brain chemistry I'm just saying.

“When you fall on me like night—I wanna kill the lights.” [azlyrics]

This song still rules irt its playing with darkness symbolism, but it also refers to the darkness in the singer’s lover—which in Sylus’ case is MC and we all were there when she shot the guy in the heart like his freaky eye was telling her: “And your heart, love, has such darkness—I feel it in the corners of the room…” my goddddddd stop right there I can’t handle the METAPHORrrr. You think Sylus gives a flying fuck about MC’s frivolous morality bullshit? No he wants her to embrace her own darkness, sit under the blankies with him and cuddle after doing crimes and a beat poetry session. This is some fucking Hannibal Lecter beyond-dark-romance shit. I’m not even trying to write a dissertation here (and yet…)

Talk (from Wasteland, Baby!):

“I'd be the sweet feeling of release mankind now dreams of, That's found in the last witness before the wave hits, marveling at God… Imagine being loved by me.” [azlyrics]

Not only does this song utilize insane Greek mythology metaphor and Biblical comparison but the overall meaning of it is, “I want you so bad, I need to speak poetically to hide how down bad I am for you.” That sounds kinda like Old World Sylus and all his pretty nicknames to me.

NFWMB:

“If I was born as a black thorn tree, I'd wanna be felled by you, held by you, Fuel the pyre of your enemies… Ain't it warming you, the world going up in flames?” [azlyrics]

This whole song just some hard, deep and steady yearning for 4 and a half minutes. Are you kidding? The acronym in the title stands for Nothing Fucks With My Baby, which is sung in the chorus like some quietly violent war chant—soft, dark, and powerful. Anyway don’t tell me Mr. Sylus “Give me a list and then go to bed. I’ll take care of it” Loveanddeepspace wouldn’t scorch the earth for the love of his life—or do one better and stand by her side while she scorches the earth herself; here’s the protective/supportive mans anthem you ordered babes.

It Will Come Back:

“I know who I am when I'm alone—I'm something else when I see you. You don't understand, you should never know How easy you are to need.” [azlyrics]

This song has repeated imagery that warns of the dangers of taking care of a feral animal, and then compares the feral animal to the singer as a lover. Like fuck off, that’s sexy and haunted. And we know that not only does Sylus love animals more than people, but he’s pretty animalistic himself if we are to believe that maybe he’s secretly a demon or something.

Arsonist’s Lullaby:

“Don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep them on a leash.” [azlyrics]

Remember in Lost Oasis when MC goes on some tangent wondering what Sylus' past was like? Well it was this song. It's about troubled youth and learning to grow in your darkness. Also how cool is that imagery of demons? Hey Sylus, what do you have to say about demons? I'll wait. In the meantime I'm tattooing this shit on my clavicle

BONUS ROUND Through Me:

“Everytime I’d burn through the world, I’d see that the world—it burns through me.”

We got a man and we got some fire allusions so there ya go.

Blood Upon the Snow:

“To all things housed in her silence, Nature offers a violence.”

Blood upon the snow—it's red and white! Red!! And white!!! Also kind of a Sylus x Zayne anthem lbr

Ok I hope you found another song that inspires you to make Sylus art or fanfic with!! And before you ask, yes I've already assigned Hozier songs to every other love interest in the game. Ok thanks for reading!!! 🏃‍♀️​💨​

[simplydnp]

Why is everyone rooting for it takes two? Tbh its one of my least fav gaming videos. I havent even watched the whole thing bc i get bored… why do yall like it so much??

i am so sorry you feel this way bc it takes two is one of the Best dapg we have ever gotten--revival run or otherwise.

despite dnp's arguably most popular playthrough (undertale) being composed of long videos, dapg doesn't generally post Long videos. so it's sheer length of 52 minutes is a revelation.

combine that with gameplay that both of them get to partake in, and you already know you're in for an excellent ride. again, they don't generally play a lot of 2 player computer games, despite us knowing they spend a Lot of time gaming together, so already it feels special since they both get to play.

the game itself is very dnp-coded, which they even comment on. it's a creative exploration through an emotional and difficult time, and yet, it still has time for humour, teamwork, and enjoyment. this game is a Journey--that's the whole point. and dnp are Very good at navigating it, in the way they do things best: together. (and you can't tell me phil's multiple 'i am your husBaand' didn't rewire your brain)

the grandness of the it takes two video is in their synchronicity. we've got video evidence of them struggling to play co-op games together--they even think it's going to go poorly, as it takes two has a Reputation for being quite difficult, particularly the boss battles. there's a reason it's the marraige counselling game, in a sense. and yet they skated through it. constantly on the same page. it's symphonic.

alongside that it's just a pleasure to sit down and watch. the bants are on point, the vibes are focused but chill, and the length of the video plus the quick turnaround upload speed during gamingmas meant that there wasn't a lot of editing to distract or disrupt the vibe. it's a very raw and unfiltered dnp--it's cozy. there's something about it that's just calming for the soul.

i enjoy getting to feel the Flow of a story, especially alongside the people i'm watching play it. despite the varied environments and quick-paced sections, i never felt lost in regards to the narrative (unlike their Brothers video). but still, there was high-octane moments! space for bants! a little bit of a respite in all the chaos.

maybe i need to say it with my full chest but trust and communication are my kink and no dnp upload demonstrate this better than it takes two. as fond as i am of dan's outbursts and yelling, there is nothing like watching dnp on the same page just absolutely crushing a task. there's a time and a place for both, but i much prefer them both having a good time as opposed to constantly bickering over something (hence my preference for the it takes two gameplay compared to the bread & fred video, though i'm curious your take on that particular video as it's quite the contrast)

almost everyone Knows what we come to dapg for, and it's not usually the gaming. this video takes that and makes the gaming Part of it in the best way possible.

plus, i'm eagerly awaiting them clickbaiting us with another insane title like 'dan and phil get divorced' was. truly excellent no notes.

[jermer10]

yo, if you’re not open for rqs now feel free to ignore/delete but i’m begging you to expand more on Scouts fake relationship in order to make ms pauling jealous yk. I’m stuck between the reader already having feelings for him and feeling bad during the relationship or the reader also developing feelings for scout when they realize that he’s not so bad… sometimes

TF2 fake dating - gone wrong not clickbait | scout x reader

suggestive, gn reader | anon i want you reveal yourself /j

tw: violence, sliiiiight angst but not really teehee, swearing

drabbles under the cut :P

You sometimes regret ever taking this fucking job. You could prepare for a fight, being blown up, being shot at. There was no way to prepare yourself for Scout. He was simply always there, causing this feeling of disgust mixed with...lust? As dirty as that felt, you couldn't say you denied it. He paid you the time of day that no man ever really had, flirting with you relentlessly, defending you against anyone who opposed you, confiding in his struggles to you. And yet he still wanted Pauling? Any merc in their right mind could tell that Pauling was gay. As a matter of fact she had confided this in you months ago, gushing about her feelings for her boss. So when the offer to be his partner in order to make her jealous arose, she wanted you to take it.

"I mean, clearly this can segue into some sort of relationship, right? Like, guy realizes he has what he wants the whole time kind of thing." She spoke matter-of-factly, typing away on her computer as you leaned onto the space next to her desk, arms crossed over your chest. She didn't look up at you while she spoke, but you could tell this was more for her than you, I mean, finally having this guy off of her back? A dream for her, even if she had to put up with the 'I'm sorry Miss Paulin'! I found someone else, but don't let me break ya heart, plenty o' fish in the sea!' speech. "Yeah, I'm sure you know what being second best feels like." You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself off of the table and walking towards the exit. "Oh- come on y/n! Don't be like that!" Pauling turned, yelling out to you as you left her office. Maybe you were a bit harsh?

You knew why he had asked you of all mercs. You noticed the way he had become more flirtatious, more physical when Pauling was around. He had been trying this for months- to elicit some sort of reaction from the young woman, but to no avail. This was just his way of taking it all to the next step. But would it really be that bad to pursue something? Having at least a chance is better than not trying at all. You entered the dining room, gently shutting your eyes and running your hands through your hair, breathing in the stale air of the base's living quarters. This was home for you, a place where you could relax from all of it. "Sooooo, have ya thought about it?" You heard a voice come from the couch and jumped slightly. There he was, laying back into the corner of the lounge, legs spread and hair messy. He wasn't wearing his usual uniform, opting for some pale red basketball shorts and a plain white tee. How could someone so annoying be so attractive? "Yeah, fuck it. Couldn't hurt."

It wasn't long before your dynamic had shifted. During movie nights he had started cuddling up to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and allowing you to fall asleep on him. Throughout battles he would tourniquet your wounds, appearing genuinely upset when you had gotten hurt. You had even started sleeping over in eachother's rooms, passing out whilst reading his comics. The other mercs noticed this shift in behaviour, and without telling them, they had assumed you were a couple. Making kissy noises when you were seen together, patting him on the shoulder and complimenting his ability to bag you. He never refuted it. Never once looked disgusted. Never laughed it off.

You started to wonder whether he was doing this for Pauling at all? Or whether he was just trying to make this whole thing seem realistic to the others enough that she would believe it too. It didn't really matter to you, you figured you could enjoy the attention while it lasted, and eventually move on. That part stung. The moving on portion of the fake dating. The aftermath. The inevitable rejection- "Hey, Pauling here," The crackling of your radio knocked you out of your contemplation. "I have a job for you and Scout. Meet me at..." You could barely listen to her, the only thought running through your mind was the fact you would have to sit there knowing any and all affection he showed you would be for her. If only they had put this in the job description, maybe you never would have applied.

Scout was already there when you arrived, yapping as usual. You were out of earshot, but could only assume he was flirting with the poor girl. Only this time Pauling was...smiling? You felt like you had been punched in the gut. "I have a job to do." You mumbled to yourself. Knowing Pauling didn't like him didn't help with the deep rooted feelings of insecurity you had around the topic. Scout noticed you walking towards them and grinned, "There they are! My partner in crime." He chuckled, slinging his arm around your shoulder. "Hey, Pauling." You forced a smile. She noticed, giving you a look you couldn't place. Did she know something that you didn't?

"Shall we?" Scout opened the side of the van door for you, allowing you to climb inside. You smiled genuinely, even if it was all fake, he still had you charmed. The ride to wherever Pauling had wanted you to work was long, and Scout was nowhere near as chatty as you had assumed he would be. He sat opposite from you, bouncing a baseball off of your side of the van. You made light conversation with Pauling, asking about work and the Assistant's conference she attended with Bidwell. You were particularly interested in Bidwell, being close with him before joining the mercenaries, and were surprised he was even still working for Hale. Scout's once peaceful expression twisted into something that resembled annoyance every time you spoke of Bidwell, and a part of you liked it. You feigned ignorance as you gushed over your friendship with the man, Pauling doing nothing to downplay your praise. Eventually you had stopped at a cave, several warning signs littered the entrance. "I need you to go in there and kill a couple of nosy tourists."

"You coming?" She peered up from her clipboard at you, eyes flickering between the brooding boy off in the distance and you. "Do you need my answer to that?" You laughed. "I'll see you when we get out." She hummed, engrossed in whatever paperwork she had been doing. Scout was definitely mad, silence was a telltale sign of his upset. You wanted to ask, to hear him say it with his own words that he was jealous of Bidwell, but you knew better than to pry. You were good at reading him, and now wasn't the time to cause an argument. The cave was deep, and even with the expertly drawn map that Pauling had given you, you felt lost. It felt like an hour had passed until you found the tourists, they were horrified, staring down at the bodies of hundreds of high ranking officials, other mercenaries, and assassins. Even regular people like them were scattered among the pile. This was clearly where she had been dumping the remains of people, and suddenly the deterring signs out front made sense.

You tried to make their deaths quick, but life doesn't really work out that way. There were three of them, two of which you and Scout had taken out at the same time using your guns. That left the third person, a man, likely in his late 20s? His large hiking backpack, boots, and layered clothing made it clear he wasn't from here. His face resembled Bidwell's in a way? You felt dizzy looking at him. He ran, traversing deeper into the cave. You were aggravated, but it was nowhere near the level of anger that radiated off of Scout. He tackled the man, beating him repeatedly. By the time Scout got off of him, you couldn't even recognize the man. He swore, wiping the spray of blood off of his face.

You tried to be scared, you really did, but the way he stood there, bat in hand, covered in gore, eyes boring into yours? It was a huge turn-on. "Let's go." He commanded, pushing past you. You obliged, and followed him silently. Eventually you had to ask, it was eating away at you, and you figured he had released most of his rage onto the poor man lying deep in the cave. "Are you okay?" It came out a lot meeker than you had expected. "What do ya think? Ya think, 'Oh Scouty is gonna love hearin' me gush about that Bidwell fucker!' when you're supposed to be my partner?" You didn't expect him to be so blunt, let alone so rude about it. Other times you had seen him jealous over Pauling he had been whiny and pathetic. This time was completely different. "Yeah, your fake partner. To make Pauling jealous. I'm not your second fucking option, Scout! You don't like me! Do you know how hard it is for me? I have to see you sit there flirting with a girl who will never like you back when I'm right here!" He stopped walking, and turned to face you. He looked hurt, and you knew you had messed up.

You kept walking, neither of you needed the map or torch any longer as the light from the entrance lit your surroundings. The afternoon sky was a watercolour mixture of purple and orange, the sun set fast behind the mountainous terrain you found yourself standing in front of. Had you really been in the cave for that long? It would have been beautiful if not for the shitty mood you had found yourself in. "Hey! How did you gooo....." Pauling stopped herself. You gave her a look. That's all she needed to know before offering you the passenger seat. The ride back to base was uncomfortably quiet, the baseball that Scout had been using to bounce off of the wall rested in his palm. The future had never felt so uncertain in that moment.

You sat awkwardly at the right end of the couch. Scout on the left. The room was dark and movie night was coming to an end, mercs slowly filing out of the room until the two of you remained. He put on some random romantic comedy and relaxed into the lounge. Your whole body was tense. The events from earlier in the night had still weighed heavy on you both. And surprisingly, Scout was the first to speak. "So....you like me?" He grinned slightly. You were taken aback, that's what he got from your fight? "Yeah, don't let it get to your head, asshole." You mumbled, staring straight at the tv screen.

"I like you too. Have for a while now." You turned to him, wide eyed. "What?" He seemed embarrassed. "Yeah, I guess that's why I was actin' so weird about the Bidwell shit," He fidgeted with his dogtags. "I started the whole fake datin' thing to make Paulin' jealous, but it stopped feelin' like that the moment I actually started to spend time with ya...." Scout stumbled over his words. He wasn't very good with expressing himself verbally, despite his flirtatious nature. "I'm....sorry.." He mumbled. You scooted closer to him on the couch, resting your head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry too." He leaned down to kiss you. It was long, sweet, and everything you had ever dreamed of. "Be my partner for real?" You laughed. "After all of that? Would be crazy if I said no." Maybe he wasn't all that bad.

[pookietv]

the not-so-useless hotline | george clarke

this has been rotting in my drafts for a while but it was a req so i hope you enjoy! may be a little sucky, sorry about that :)

dedicated to both the nonnie who requested and the nonnie who was adorable to me in dms so!!!!

to be honest, you didn't even really know what you had become well known for.

you started on youtube, ended up singing and modelling and vlogging and god knows what else, and you were a little bit of a mystery to the world.

but, nonetheless you had become adored by the internet, and eventually dragged on a podcast by max, who you had met on a brand trip and had grown to quite like, even if you had only seen him a handful of times.

so when you showed up to a little office with worn out computers and a smile on max's face, it did make you giggle to be on the set that you had seen him, and george, who even though you had seen him a lot online, you admittedly knew next to nothing about.

"y/n! hello, welcome!" you were invited in by who you assumed was a manager, who helped you get microphoned up, staying quiet whilst you listened to max and george speak and introduce the podcast whilst you waited on the sidelines for being introduced.

so when you heard the, "okay, send her up for the interview!" and you sat opposite them, your cheeks were a little red from laughing as it felt strange to be sat opposite them in such a corporate setting, even if was all a big joke.

"welcome y/n to your interview at the useless hotline! i'm max, this is george, very important interview today," max joked, and you nodded a little more, laughing and repeating, "very important, yes."

"yeah, i'm so glad to be here, i really need this job!" you joked back, allowing yourself to have a moment looking at george, being your first proper time meeting him. he was quite attractive, put together nicely.

"well, we have very high standards here, although max doesn't reflect that too well," george joked back, and you nodded in a teasingly solemn look.

"well, every company has it's stinker, and i suppose here it's max," you smiled, and max rolled his eyes.

"you bitch! haven't even introduced yourself and you're already mocking me," max grinned.

"oh, sorry, i introduce myself and then mock you?" you teased back.

after being made to make max and george extremely potent alcoholic drinks, and introducing yourself, with a little gossip about music and max's social life, eventually you get questions thrown your way.

"well, we figured we need to talk to you about your dating life, 'cause that's where our clickbait will be," george joked.

"literally! everyone knows you as some maneating mysterious woman going on dates all the time, and we're nosy," max teased, and you rolled your eyes in response.

"i'm not a maneater! jesus, you leave a bad impression max! i would just say i am very picky, that's all. y'know, high standards." you hummed a little as you drank your drink with a small grin.

"oh, come on, you know yourself there has been a cast of rotating rumours of people that the internet thought you might be dating," max urged, and you shrugged a little. "plus, when we went on that bar thing on the latest brand trip you told me about a few of them, so there must be some drama there!" he joked a little more.

"men are just very disappointing creatures, you know? there just hasn't really been one where i've been like, yeah, this person is fun to be around and i would like to be around them a lot of the time, so i'm still single!" i explained with a giggle.

"george is literally always saying something of a similar tune, he is kind of just a picky man," max joked a little, and i grinned and raised my eyebrows at george.

"picky, hm? i suppose i'm a little picky, but i don't think that's necessarily bad, i just think i would love to hold out for someone who is really for me, you know?" i asked him curiously.

"i wouldn't even say i'm picky, i just think... there's a kind of thing, where i'll, you know, find someone where i'm just like, yeah, this feels right," george explained, and i nodded.

"so do you have like.. a type?" max asked me, "george's type always seems to be women who don't like him back." max teased.

"there have definitely been some stinkers in the past but... i mean, i wouldn't even say i have a type, really. i like funny people, and i'd like someone that's taller then me... um, i guess i like facial hair but that's not a dealbreaker if not," i laughed a little awkwardly with a shrug of my shoulders.

"well, i'd say you'd like george but he is exceptionally not funny," max grinned to himself and i rolled my eyes in a giggly way, watching george turn to max.

"because you're just so witty yourself, max,"

the podcast continued, with topics only getting more intrusive and unhinged as we continued, before we got to the point where we were answering asks, and one came up asking george on a date as a plus one to a wedding.

"fuck you! see, everyone comes on the podcast and thirsts over george, but what if you had asked me? i would actually have shown up, how about that!" max huffed whilst george tried not to laugh.

"what, people try and hit on george through the podcast?" you asked, laughing myself.

"yeah, they do, his name is max balegde," george joked.

"they're really scraping the bottom of the barrel if they want george," max grinned, before looking at me, "do you get a lot of the whole randomers asking you out thing? seeing as you're so thirsted over on the internet?"

"i mean, i suppose so, but i don't read too many of them, they just stay in the requests bit of my messages so i don't pay them too much attention," you giggled slightly, shrugging, "though, i do appreciate the compliments, sometimes if i'm just having a really crap day i'll just look through edits of myself. is that narcissistic? maybe it is, but it does make you feel good,"

"max was begging people to make edits of him on one of the podcast episodes so i'm sure you're not too bad," george grinned to you, and you tittered a little at his answer, grinning back at him.

george was pretty attractive, actually.

it had been about a week since the episode of you on the useless hotline had come out: and to say you had been bombarded would be an understatement.

from shipping fan edits to insane tweets, there seemed to be a common theme, the theory that you were dating george.

he had texted you a little, talking about when the podcast was going to come out, and asking you if you had any plans over the weekend, mainly casual talk as he told you funny stories about his roommates, arthur and chris, and occasionally sending you photos of himself pulling faces.

liked by max_balegde, georgeclarkeey and 12,039 others

yourusername: my roommate tried to push me out of a window (but i made her take cute pictures so)

miaxmon: shut up i did not push you!

↳ yourusername: @/miaxmon whatever you say PUSHER

userone: since WHEN did she live with mia ???

↳ yourusername: since she begged me to live with her bc im awesome and sexy and she couldn't live without me (but actually for about six months!)

georgeclarkeey: she should have finished the job

↳ yourusername: smh silly george if she pushed me out the window then who else would the internet ship you with???

↳ georgeclarkeey: someone tolerable hopefully

↳ yourusername: i can see why you got stood up now

you have a new message from @/georgeclarkeey!

georgeclarkeey: now that was just cruel and uncalled for

yourusername: it was honesty which girl would show up for a date with you ???

georgeclarkeey: you hopefully

yourusername: you what???

georgeclarkeey: would you show up on a date with me?

yourusername: only if you said sorry for wanting mia to finish me off and that i am the best :)

georgeclarkeey: i just audibly sighed

georgeclarkeey: you are the best and i am sorry for saying i wanted mia to finish the job

georgeclarkeey: happy?

yourusername: absolutely

yourusername: so, a date?

georgeclarkeey: i was thinking a really tall building with loads of open windows. thoughts?

yourusername: you're sooooo funny george

georgeclarkeey: i know i know i'm hilarious

georgeclarkeey: i was actually thinking we could go to flight club and play darts

yourusername: i will beat you SO bad

georgeclarkeey: can't wait :)

yourusername: anyway, i thought you were really picky about who you go on dates with?

georgeclarkeey: i usually am

georgeclarkeey: i guess you just feel right

yourusername: are you this soppy with all your dates?

georgeclarkeey: well they usually don't show up so you'll be the first, obviously

georgeclarkeey: anyway i thought you were picky as well?

yourusername: okay shut up now george :)

[serendipityandbenevolence]

Tartaglia x Reader (gn) - SAGAU

Another day, another post! im praying that this one is easier to write than yesterdays because i spent nearly 2 hrs trying to write my 1k words. thankfully me and childe are besties (real, not clickbait) and he's also my main so i don't have to read about his personality for a hour on the genshin impact wiki.

Contains - childe being sickeningly in love with you and kinda soft (my boy is whipped) the other harbingers also lowkey hate him, also the yandere behavior makes him ooc so im sorry if hes acting a lil bit goofy, also this fic is a bit more funny and lighthearted then the other two, so let me know if you like this

The previous fic if you want context is here

And the Dottore version is here

So without further ado, I introduce you to...

"Tartaglia?"

The voices outside halt for just a second, before you hear scuffling and harsh but hushed whispers from a number of different voices. Maybe he wasn't there. After all, as the least senior of all the Harbingers, maybe he was not invited to whatever conversation they were having right beyond your door. You strained to listen, but although their voices seemed to be slowly getting louder and more irate, you could only catch tiny snippets of what they were saying.

"-not going-"

"If you-"

"SO HELP ME TARTAGLIA, IF YOU TAKE ONE MORE STEP TOWARDS THAT DOOR, I WILL PERSONALLY THROW YOU OUT-"

You flinched slightly at the sudden exclamation, which was abruptly cut off with some loud crashes and violent curses. As the noises didn't cease, you found yourself shoving off your layers of blankets and shakily getting to your feet. You were distantly aware that you probably shouldn't be moving around this much, considering how weak your body felt and the dull ache in the patched wound on your side, but you chose to ignore it in favor of investigating.

When you reached the door and nudged it open slightly, you were greeted with, not a hallway like you had presumed, but a fancy lounge area, the sort for receiving guests if you were a rich person and couldn't be bothered leaving your quarters. But more interesting than the décor was the two Harbingers fighting rather aggressively in the middle of the room and the other nine Harbingers watching on with various shades of amusement and disgust. They seemed totally oblivious to your presence, eyes trained on Arlecchino as she threw a chair at Tartaglia, before tackling him to the ground. You stood hesitantly in the doorway, not stupid enough to try and intervene, but also genuinely concerned for the safety of both of the Harbingers.

"Oh, Your Grace! What are you doing out of bed?"

You turned to the large group of Harbingers to find Sandrone staring at you with a rather worried expression. Her words caused everyone to stop and turn to you, even Arlecchino who appeared to be currently attempting to strangle Tartaglia. After a brief pause, Capitano turned back to two on the floor.

"See Tartaglia? Your childish actions have disturbed the Divine One. You are hardly fit for your title as Harbinger, causing such distress for our most beloved god."

"I'M DISTURBING THEM?! Arlecchino was the one who screamed at the top of her lungs with no care for Their Grace's slumber, why am I being blamed?"

Arlecchino paled slightly at this and stared at you with an uncharacteristically anxious expression.

"I didn't wake you up, right?"

You felt yourself sway slightly and grabbed onto the doorframe, embarrassed at how quickly your body seemed to be giving out on you.

"Oh no, not at all. I was already awake, I was just listening to you all discuss what's going on with the other nations. That's why I called for Tartaglia, I wanted to ask him some questions about what I missed while I was sleeping."

There was a slightly awkward pause as what you just said sank in.

"Wait, you actually called for Tartaglia? He wasn't hallucinating it? Or lying so he could go in and see you?" Arlecchino asked, an incredulous look covering her face as she got up off the floor.

"Yeah, I didn't mean to start a fight or anything but..."

Your vision blurred slightly and your knees buckled slightly as another wave of pain hit you. You heard a few worried murmurs from the Harbingers, but before they could do anything, you were swept off your feet and carried back into your room.

"Sorry about making you get out of bed for that. Are you feeling okay?" Tartaglia whispered gently as he cradled you in his arms, kicking the door shut behind him.

"Yeah I'm fine. I probably just need another nap, clearly I'm not as well healed as I thought."

He nodded at that, laying you down silently on your bed before grabbing at your blankets and laying them back over you.

"Sorry for causing you so much trouble, Ajax."

"Ajax?"

You hesitated, suddenly unsure of how he would react to his actual name. But he only smiled, with what seemed to be a slight blush covering his cheeks.

"I had no idea that you knew my real name! I mean, of course you do, but I just didn't think you would take much notice and-"

He paused, seemingly noticing your tired eyes.

"Ah, I'm sorry, I'll ramble another time. Please, if you so wish, call me Ajax."

"Perhaps not in front of the other Harbingers though. I wouldn't want to drag you into another spat." You whispered sleepily.

"Don't worry about that!" He grinned widely at you. "I can take them on, call me what you want."

He got up from beside you, with one last sentence before he left.

"Sweet dreams, Your Grace."

Glad to report that this one was a lot easier to write and I was actually giggling a little while picturing Arlecchino trying to beat Tartaglia. I might write Pierro's ending today, just because I have some time and I'm in a good writing mood. The order of the endings so far are Pierro, Capitano, Pantalone and Scaramouche. If you guys want to comment which of the women you want to go after Scaramouche, I'll add them to the list! (also no, I'm not writing Pulcinella)

[kunikame]

the moon and her stars. - lyney

warnings : lyney has zero rizz (clickbait), i made astral references again im not sorry guys, not quite love at first sight but more the steps made towards it, gender neutral, fluff

w/c : 940

the saying "eyes are the window to one's soul" is, in lyneys humble opinion, about as true as it can get.

he would know.

while he performs his magic tricks, while he takes a stroll down the streets of fontaine– whatever leisurely activity you choose, he does it while staring people directly in the eyes.

of course he doesn't stare at one person the whole time, his own lavender gaze flies from one person to another sporadically, yet he never fails to discern the emotions hidden behind them.

are they happy? sad? having a good day? a bad one, perhaps? tired? surprised? excited?

he knows.

he watches childrens eyes light up with joy when he pulls their card out of his hat– he observes the couple arguing a few steps away, notices when the brunette's eyes shift from pure sadness to betrayal.

he sees.

which is why he also notices when someone lacks these qualities. if there is no joy, there is no shine– no life behind a person's eyes.

he wonders why your eyes seem so empty when your smile feels genuine.

perhaps you're like him, hiding burdens you desperately wish would forever stay locked up, yet you yearn for a companion to share your pain.

he has his siblings, but who do you have?

lyney approaches you one time (be it out of sheer fascination or simply seeking a change of pace, he's not quite sure) after an impromptu show he put on for some kids in the middle of the street with a singular white rose in his possession.

"hello there, you seem to be not quite enjoying the show tonight. may the great magician lyney be of any service, perhaps?"

he removes his hat with a flourish and bows, holding out the rose as an offering to you.

you lift your gaze from the book you were reading, surprised he took notice of your presence. upon noticing the rose a pleased hum escapes you, and lyney notices a fragment of what one might call 'entertainment' behind your gaze.

"did you know white roses symbolize young love and eternal loyalty, sir lyney? was your approach made with such intentions to be conveyed on this starry night?"

your tone is teasing and amused, and he is well aware of it, but whatever mirth you might be feeling doesn't quite reach your eyes, and so with a snap of his fingers and an elegant shake of the rose, he produces 8 more of them in an unarranged bouquet he hopes you will accept.

"not quite, i'm afraid. i was more so referring  to the symbolization of new beginnings, but if you so prefer i would not at all mind changing the meaning. or the color, if you wish," he says, brushing his hand over the roses, which have now turned a darker orange.

"'fascination', i see," you hum, "interesting choice. is there a reason for it?" you have now discarded your book entirely, giving the blond all your attention, as if hanging onto each word he says, yet seemingly not quite caring about any of them either. it confused lyney, but it fascinated him even more.

"are you aware of what people say about eyes?" you nod, inclining your head slightly, curiosity piqued, "they are the window to the soul. i've found that claim to be truthful until the day i first met eyes with you."

"is this your attempt at wooing me, sir lyney? i regret having to inform you it's not quite working."

"not yet, no. i simply wished to compliment you. your eyes are one of, if not the most beautiful i've ever seen. but, if i may be so bold as to ask, why must you suppress your emotions from being seen in them?"

your eyes flicker away momentarily and lyney pauses. perhaps he might lose this battle tonight.

"i do not wish for them to be perceived by none other than myself. i believe it's better– nobody can use my emotions against me this way."

"why would anyone do such a thing?"

your eyes meet his then, and the world stops. everyone around him disappears and suddenly it's just you and him in this bubble universe you've created– or perhaps you haven't created it, it was simply made for you. you are the center of it and lyney has to fight to find his place (he chooses the one that's closest to the sun– to you). may he crash and burn if he has to, if the universe decides he's meant to, he simply wishes to be as close as you let him. 

if the eyes are the window to the soul– or to put it differently– to the heart, then lyney is certain what you see in his is the adoration he holds for you. even though he doesn't quite know you yet, you fascinate him to no end and he will not stop at the ends of the universe– he will go further and further, as far as his legs carry him, to know everything about you.

he has come to agreement with these feelings of his, they are the reason he chose to approach you in the first place.

he is, however, rendered speechless when your eyes suddenly seem filled with an affection and longing he can't say he's been looked at with before.

"you tell me, sir lyney. would you do such a thing?"

you smile at him then and may the god of justice strike him down where he stands lest his words are lies, but you put the moon and all her stars to shame.

"to you? never."

ੈ✩₊˚TAGLIST : @sscarchiyo @arkangelee @chrronoir @sleepypengwin @yakshalea @kazemiya @menhwa-pdf @mikctp @gabirii @solxima // ask/comment to be added/removed! (if you're in bold i can't tag you)