#ignore the (lack of) backgrounds I was lazy :3

[mangofdoom]

I am a mad man.

Also go look at my avm oc comic :)

[90ekz]

across the map.

☾ summary: usually onyankapon likes to keep his face shaven and sleek, but once he notices how you can’t keep your eyes off his new facial feature, he has other plans.

☆ tags: black fem reader, chubby reader, facial hair kink (??? idk man), sub!ony for like 2 seconds, overstimulation, porn w small plot, teasing, creampie, p in v, liberal use of “ma” & “mama”, mention of pregnancy, not proofread, vaginal fingering, onyan & y/n are roommates in college, business major onyan <3

♡ a/n: sorry for being gone so long, i’ve literally been so busy 😭😭, but thank y’all for 500 followers !!! the support means the world to me.

it wasn’t even intentional.

onyankapon had gotten so busy with his classes overseas that he’d slipped up on his weekly shave. he typically didn’t grow facial hair very fast anyway, but all of a sudden his goatee was sprouting like weeds.

he couldn’t figure out why, until he’d locked eyes with the facial serum connie had gifted him for his birthday. dumbass.

in theory, onyankapon should’ve already shaved it. he told himself that he wouldn’t do it the night before his flight, but he really didn’t have time to keep up with that promise.

and he was lazy.

onyankapon tried to ignore it, but everytime he went to touch his face he was reminded of it, and it just made him cringe. he was finally going home to you tomorrow, and he wanted to look perfect for his baby.

when he’d left home three weeks ago, you were so sympathetic and understanding about the lack of time you were gonna have to talk but still a bit somber, knowing your conversations would be reduced to good morning & good night texts.

now, he stood over his hotel room sink, attempting to both not fall asleep and shave at the same time.

it wasn’t working.

“fuck it. not even finna do allat,” he just flicked the bathroom light off, knowing had a long flight in the morning and it was already nearing one in the morning. he just hoped you wouldn’t be too uncomfortable with his stubble.

the next morning, onyankapon felt his lips curl upward when he received a million texts of you being so giddy about him coming home.

sweet cheeks 🤞🏾: BAE

sweet cheeks 🤞🏾: OMG BABY UR COMING HOME 2DAY

sweet cheeks 🤞🏾: HAVE A GOOD FLIGHT BABY ILYSMMMM

the whole flight home, all onyankapon could think of was your plush lips against his and that round ass that he would inevitably be fondling soon. the woman next to him probably thought he was a psychopath from the way he was randomly giggling to himself.

walking off the plane and eventually into the baggage pick up area where he finally saw your face for the first time in almost a month, onyankapon was overwhelmed.

the way your face lit up when you saw him, your body in that pretty little skims dress, god.

he felt like he was in love again for the first time.

you threw yourself into his arms and he was just as excited to see you, but he couldn’t help but kneed the fat of your ass as you kissed him senseless.

“have some shame, we’re in public.”

“can’t help it. my sweet lil’ thing, i missed you…” you gasped as he gripped your ass once more, but not for the reason he thought you did. your eyes had finally zeroed in on his newly bearded face, and you couldn’t help the ache that suddenly appeared downward.

you never saw onyankapon’s facial hair, or rather, he never even gave you the opportunity to see it. as soon as you jokingly commented on how his stubble was tickling you, he was in the bathroom with the door locked while the clippers released a small whirring sound in the background.

you’d always been curious. you liked a lil goatee here and there, but it was never a major turn on or anything.

but on your nigga? yeah, you needed him bad.

he wet his lips as he peered down at you, even giving you a peek of his shiny diamond grill as he smiled at you. you trailed behind him slightly as he led you to your car, trying not to stumble from the heartbeat down below.

“shiiii, slut me out.”

“whatchu say, ma?”

“nun! cmon boy, you walk slow.”

onyankapon let his hands wander the whole drive home. on your thigh, rubbing against your nipples, even rubbing small circles onto your clit at one point.

you two barely got into the house before onyankapon was caging you against the wall and attacking your neck with his teeth. all you could hyperfocus on was the scratch of his beard against your sensitive skin.

your hand snaked to rub the sweet spot on his neck, smiling to yourself as he turned to putty. he smiled into your neck, his own hands wandering under the seam of your dress. his eyebrows jumped upward at your wetness.

“fuck.. all this for me mama?” you nod weakly as he immediately pushes two fingers knuckle deep into you, already knowing that you’d been preparing yourself for when he got home.

any words this man was saying to you were barely making it into your ears. anytime onyankapon spoke, you were immediately drawn to his lips and chin, and just how mature he looked.

it was almost sophisticated.

“been gone for so long and you won’t even focus on me. makin’ me sad, baby.” onyankapon breathed out, still a bit in disbelief that you were finally in his arms again. his fingers worked an almost melodic rhythm inside of your cunt, while his palm kept your clit company.

“more—fuck, onyyy,” you couldn’t help but whine out louder as his stubble scratched against your neck once more. the scratch only added to the knot threatening to burst in your stomach.

“shit, get these off mama.” onyankapon tugged at your dress and the panties underneath, silently begging you to get rid of them.

“you nasty.”

“you want me to make you nut or nah?” you just smacked your lips and removed your dress. his eyebrow quirked when you didn’t immediately take off the panties and bra accompanying it, but he dropped to his knees nonetheless.

you shivered at his warm breath ghosting against your clothed pussy. he continued to lap and lick at you, leaving a heavy feeling in your gut.

yet you still wanted more.

you wanted more for the sole purpose of feeling his chin hair scratch and rub against your pussy, your neck, all over you, wherever he wanted.

“c-can you—fuck!” onyankapon just smiled at you, already knowing what you wanted him to do, all you needed to do was beg for it. he just continued his skillful movements, just wanting to tease you for a little longer.

“what can i do for you, my love?”

onyankapon struggled to conceal his laugh, because he expected that you wouldn’t beg to him, not without a lot of coaxing that is.

what he didn’t expect was for you to slip your panties down while he wasn’t looking and stuff his face nose-deep in your cunt without warning. his eyes grew wide as you started shamelessly fucking his face, while he struggled to not choke on his own moans.

between your essence dripping down his chin, the grip on the back of his neck and your whines, onyankapon’s cock found itself getting much stiffer much quicker than he anticipated.

every bump of your clit against his nose against his nose sent a zap to his dick. he just sat and took it, his grip on your thighs tightening so much that he started to wonder if he was gonna break skin.

sex with ony’ wasn’t usually this rough, but three weeks away from each other had your bodies screaming the second you came together again. he really didn’t know how you’d react to seeing him again, but he hadn’t considered that you’d be this dominant.

neither did he think about how much he’d like it.

you pulled him away suddenly, presumably so he could catch his breath. onyankapon could swear that you were talking to him, but his mind was completely gone.

“‘m sorry, mama. ‘shouldn’t have done it, just lemme please you.”

before you could respond, his tongue was roughly digging you out, his grip on your waist being the only thing keeping you on earth. he didn’t stop licking until you’d cum on his tongue twice and were begging him to stop.

“ooh, ony—too much..”

he barely cared, making that known as he continued to press kitten licks to your sensitive hole.

“hey—boy are you even listening to me?” onyankapon gave you a stank look as you pushed him away with your foot. you couldn’t help but laugh at how badly this nigga wanted you.

“i wasn’t done.” suddenly you were being flipped over and onyankapon’s thick cock was laying against the skin of your stomach. he looked just about ready to rip you apart.

he gave your clit a few taps before pushing home, the action making your eyes roll back. he didn’t hesitate to slam himself into you roughly back to back, the meat of your ass slamming against his balls.

onyankapon began to kiss on your neck, and smirked into the crook of it when he felt your cunt spasm around him.

“missed you so much ony—needed t-this..”

“fuck, missed you so much more.. such a good girl…” his thrusts only sped up as you whined his name louder and louder with each kiss his cock placed against your cervix. his grip on your waist was tight enough to leave bruises, as he latched onto you like he was afraid you’d slip away from him.

without any warning, onyankapon strokes his fingers against your clit, and your losing your mind while cumming on his cock. he just coos at you, wondering what he did to deserve you. the overstim quickly sets in though, and you’re not-so quietly begging him to slow down.

“shhh, i know you can give me one more ma, i know you can…”

‘one more’ turned into two, three, and eventually four drawn out orgasms, all sprayed onto onyankapon’s lower abdomen. fuckin’ liar. “mmhm, want me to nut in you mama? want this mini-me in you, yeah?” all you could do is nod weakly as he pumped you full, his thrusts finally slowing. your eyes cracked open to see him smirking down at you while he languidly stroked your cheek to make sure you were still with him.

“you so cute. you still with me?”

“mmm.”

onyankapon just smirked as he got some things to wipe you up with. after a few minutes, you finally started to sit up and recover, only to get an immediate attitude with him.

“i can’t believe i let you nut in me,” you mumbled as he turned on the newest episode of General Hospital. he just laughed at you, not being worried considering you’re on birth control.

“you’re so into the beard, you woulda begged me to anyway.” you just scoffed before walking to the bathroom to pee, knowing that he was right but not wanting to admit it.

“i was not.”

[yeahmiknight]

Hi Dandys World Community.... Sobs as I put my creation up Dandys World Oc :( Diwali NOOO THERES A MISTAKE IN THE TEXT chat plz ignore it info below

Text so its easier to read here 'This toon is the embodiment of every last wonderful creation made by every kid who enters the museum!' 'Diwali was created by the folks at the Gardenview Center in response to all of the drawings they received. Diwali is supposed to represent every last piece of art.' 'Now kids can be sure Dandy has seen their work, because Diwali IS their work.' Notes down here -Diwali is male [He/Him] -He is a craft similar to Goob and Scraps. What actual creature he represents is unknown. This is mainly because they wanted to make a 'blank canvas' sort of character, so the kids could imagine him as whatever they want. -If he had an ingame model, the pieces of paper that roll down his back and stick out his head would likely be the poster assets copy n pasted on the model, albeit with some added thickness to the asset. -Diwali is barely present in the show and would mainly serve as a background character to fill space. Diwali would lack lines overall and probably only be mentioned by the other toons as 'a friend they know' or something along those lines. -Aside from the Dandy piece on his neck, he would probably have the Dandys World logo on there as an alt. -Playable Diwali would possibly either be a Distraction Toon or a Support Toon. [I just got here idk the labels] -Diwalis special ability would simply be that he can toss a bunch of papers in the air. These can do one of two things depending on what playstyle you wanna go for. 1. These papers make a loud distraction noise, luring Twisteds to them similar to a failed skill check, although this noise unlike the skill check as range and cant be heard at a certain distance. 2. These papers can be used to hide Toons. It grants a few seconds of the Twisted not being able to see whoever is behind the papers due to their abundance, offering a chance of escape if you just run backwards. Diwali would also be effected by this but his grace period would probably be slower. These of course could not be spammed to avoid breezing through the game. -Twisted Diwali could possibly set up paper traps, whenever spotted Twisted Diwali will drop a piece of paper on the floor as they peruse a player. These papers, once stepped on will alert other Twisteds. Its best not to get spotted by him. He is fairly slow, you could possibly outrun him or outwalk him under certain circumstances, and he would only drop 2-3 papers when giving chase. -He has a permanent 'dead eye' or lazy eye as you would call it. It doesnt bother him. -He would lack lines overall in the game, when interacting with the other toons the most you could get out of him is just three dots. -He would possibly hard to obtain due to his ability, that way lobbys wouldnt just fill up with this guy spamming the ability to get through the game quickly. if you have any questions lmk.

[violueta]

who else ready to YAP! hihi i go by a ton of aliases and forgot which one i applied with my bad but im mika and im here with jangmi, a brand new muse that i cant wait to develop with u all :D just drop a like and i'll send u a dm to get plotting :3 (my about section for her is coming soon..a lil busy atm T^T)

just some ooc info before i go on a massive ramble about her, im currently a full time student dealing with end of semester assignment rush and exams so excuse me if replies are sporadic..if i ever take over 24 hours please just bump me or something... im also really new to tumblr so..excuse any mistakes :3

sry 4 this i wrote it out n im too lazy to proofread

BACKGROUND

lee jangmi, born 3003 to a middle class family, being her parent's little girl who got spoiled beyond belief. the amount of stress her parents went through to have her made them treasure her greatly, always making sure she was always happy.

family life was good! family life was happy! until both her parents lost their jobs due to sizing down, leaving the family with a complete lack of income. her father found a job rather quickly but it paid significantly less than what they originally had and they were still relying on one income so things were a bit tight. jangmi was blissfully unaware of this fact at the bright young age of one, her parents always putting on their happiest faces to their daughter and still going out of their way to give her a wonderful childhood. with the help of her maternal grandmother, jangmi was raised in the most loving household a girl could ask for.

however, this lack of money was catching up as her mother fell behind in terms of systems, her father needing added packages and upgrades to work but not being able to afford any for his wife. this meant that her family had fallen to a socioeconomic status that terrascape paid less care to. one day jangmi's mother dropped her off at her grandmother's so that she could spend the day trying to find a job, as she had been doing for around three years at this point. that night, her mother never picked her up and her father called up, wondering if she was with jangmi.

she was not.

after a week or so, jangmi's father had accepted that his wife was gone. unable to deal with life without the woman he loved and a daughter that was constantly distressed with the lack of her mother, he gave jangmi to her grandmother and disconnected from terra to search for his wife, knowing she might've left him but she would've never left jangmi.

so from the age of four, jangmi was raised by her grandparents and their elderly neighbours and they raised her just as she was used to, loving and a little bit spoiled. being raised in such a good for environment, the girl is quite unaware of the bad side of the world; she thinks that terra truly is paradise where everyone is always happy and thriving, simply because that's how she and the people she's aurrounded herself with have done in life.

well, she tries to think that way at least. having her parents leave with the only explaination of 'they went on an adventure!' even at the age of 20 has her craving to know more, has her wanting to figure out what happened with her parents. once she hit her teens and started actively staying awake at night, she discovered a glitch in which the entire server just frozen in time? she's never actively done anything during this hour as the idea of fucking up something scares her greatly but, she's always blamed that glitch on the reason why her parents are gone.

for now she prefers living in ignorant bliss, treating terra the way that terrascape wants her to, as a modern day garden of eden which, it kind of is considring how lucky she's been in life. maybe her ignorance is just to avoid losing her lifestyle of living upper middle class, knowing the place is a lot darker than she puts on. even after bae gyuok, she chooses to ignore this massive event, acting as if nothing has happened in the first place. (although, in her own time she's trying to figure things out but, she isn't getting very far)

PERSONALITY

she's soft spoken and gentle, often just going along with the crowd and trying her best to fit in as she would rather die than ever be seen as different. she puts herself out as confident yet not cocky, extroverted but not loud; a perfect personality that will have people love her, just as she's always been loved by those around her. though her gentle nature and willingness to go along with people is natural, she's hardly the social creature she seems to be, preferring a night in with her grandparents and their dog watching old movies. she lacks her own perception of self as a consequence for trying so hard to fit in and she sometimes gets jealous of others who are more willing to be themselves, arguing with people who disagree with her out of sadness, not anger. she can let herself get carried away when spurred on and can be quite reactive at times, a reason why she surrounds herself with people so similar to her; she can keep her image.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

u see i kinda suck at these? i like coming up with plots with specific characters in mind BUTT!! here's some vague ideas.

friends, ex-crushes, aquaintances, neighbours, all that stuff. maybe someone who she finally expresses her worries to? like late night talks about terra and how theyre realising the system seems a lil..Off..

IDK! im okay with anything :D just (as i said before) give this a like or send a dm to me first if ur in the mood to plot with her! i can use dc if it's easier :3

[kaengeru]

cyberpunk 2077 au ramblings (because you asked for this!!)

(shorthand: streetkid=purple. nomad=cowboy. corpo=monochrome.)

OKAY to start, this is ALL cyberpunk2077!au that ignores the story for the most part. nomad is the only one who is intrinsically tied to the relic plot. the other two have some vague connect to the lifepath background to a point, but otherwise dont end up in the same hole. THEY ARE all around 23/24 at their current state(s). (also: apologies if anyone thought i meant they were actually related - each of them are just a different cyberpunk!au of enya) theres sarah too of course! but im still working on his different designs and he is Not the main character, sorry bud. you will get a snack of him because he is always important to her story <3 GOD. OKAY. ANYWAY. if you know nothing about the game im sorry (my knowledge is only from 2077 and internet research anyway) but here we go!!

streetkid; solo. sante muerte theme. also Purple and/or gold. MAXIMUM chrome. shotguns, sandevistan, mantis blades.

-the most similar to default enya. ANGRY. loud, brash, quick to violence. aggressively hetero. comes off more composed in the downtime between jobs from her excessive confidence. smokes, drinks, drugs, alls fun and fair. lazy grins. head tilts. hands in pockets. baggy pants, tie-front bras, tennis shoes.

-known as rabbit/coneja rather than v, due to a few tattoos, her tendency for jumping fences, jumping onto people, and rabbit-kicking her way out of a tough spot (the chrome she's got makes bone breaking very easy and fun). heywood born and bred. russian/spanish. speaks both fluently but leans heavier on the russian to throw people off (this backfires frequently outside of her immediate neighborhood, where people will often assume she's a scavenger).

-physical embodiment of "why do i hear boss music?". alternates between horror movie villain casually walking after people, or DOOM slayer run-n-gun. thorough, albeit not precise in her work. incapable of subtly or silent tactics. shooting people is way easier than talking to them; will give valentinos the smallest bit of leeway, but so little no one except her can tell. VERY hard to kill. mantis blades are almost exclusively used in tight spots, and even then, if a grenade will do the trick, thats more fun anyways.

-high-functioning cyberpsycho (with a legit diagnosis just in case she does snap, they can make her a nice statistic), virtually no empathy/humanity. very disconnected with her self of self. about 75-80% chrome - including both necessary and for improved functions - with a preference toward (funny enough) subtle or hidden cyberware. WAY heavier than she looks with basal caloric needs being stupid high so she is constantly eating. mostly things she finds (steals) (digs out of the pockets of someone she just killed) etc. her lack of social awareness is most obvious when it comes to food because if it is there, she will take it.

-brief history: mom dies when she's 9 during a bird flu pandemic. dad gets killed when she gets grabbed by some maelstromers for cyberware experiments with a couple other kids at 12. ends up as a violent little street urchin between mandated therapy sessions. starts working simple jobs around 15, largely thefts and such, getting her first hit when she's 17 (though she's already killed her fair share of people). almost all the money she makes is put into upgrading and adding onto her cyberware.

-the sarah connection: her, 17/18. him 19. first contact is she and her "buddies" bullying him into taking his shirt off (to prove he isn't a tyger claw) (because theyre awful). he's new to the city, working as a cook for a local dumpling place that she frequent(ly breaks into to steal food). most similar to default enya/sarah beginnings where she simply will Not leave him alone, though he's more anxious in this realm (for good reason) so she wins out faster.

-he lives in the apartment above the restaurant (owner doesnt because its been broken into numerous times) (guess who) and works a lot, so they often spend their time sitting on the roof and talking. sort of mellows her out, having a comfortable space to explore feelings and whatnot helps process Things, including these weird emotions she gets when she looks at him.

-he dies when shes 21. just gets mugged by a couple guys. closest she comes to a full psychotic break, and likely would of if she hadnt found the culprits in quick succession. theyre left an unrecognizable mess and she's given a friendly warning that the ncpd has her as their prime suspect and she should probably stay out of sight for a while. then streetkid path: goes to atlanta, comes back 2 years later, etc. would probably run into jackie but doesnt work well with others, so, hey, she'll take a free lunch but thats about it.

-dies before her thirties. no blaze of glory etc. just gets gutted in a back alley after finally picking the wrong fight and bleeds out behind a dumpster. she is, surprisingly, fine with this - she's had a pervasive sense of suicidal ideation for a LONG while, but was never going to do it herself, and everyone else sucks at it.

-shoving this info somewhere:

=low INT. has a vague grasp on how to navigate some systems and read a little bit of code, but could much more easily disassemble a deck. that and no people skills. says what needs to be said. impulsive and unpredictable but not unstable. =not a believer in sante muerte, but very much enjoys the concept and messing with valentinos where possible. also was never a part of the tinos, but has a fair number of connections within the gang. =the sort who will roll over to sleep for a couple hours, then get right back to business when she wakes up. not good with quiet or stillness, cannot be alone with her thoughts for an extended period. always has to be doing something.

-im definitely forgetting SOMETHING but this motherfucker is my favorite

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nomad; techie. flower theme. cowboy. minimal chrome. sniper rifles, berserk, gorilla arms.

-enya-adjacent. the most well-adjust and happiest of the three (ignoring the depression). quiet! straightforward when she does talk, and doesnt talk very much. no silence is awkward (for her). actually finds some humor in how differently people react. comfy bi with a preference for women. smokes, but doesnt drink (anymore), and drugs only when necessary. blank stares. careful deliberation. sleeveless vests, leather chaps, cowboy boots.

-prefers val as she gets older, before just going by v when she starts doing merc work. follows the nomad lifepath pretty directly. born in the NUSA, traveling with the bakkers, etc. has that curiosity toward explosives as a child, up until she fucks around and finds out real quick. loses both arms and left eye, burns mostly on her face and upper chest/shoulder. that was the last time she messed with choo2 and gasoline. instead, shifts her energy toward tinkering with machines and cyberware. the latter she finds more enjoyable, but doesnt have many opportunities to experiment with except for her basic (hand-me-down) implants until she saves up herself for an upgrade.

-almost exclusively uses long-range rifles. highly skilled sharpshooter helped along immensely by her one cyber-eye. many problems can be solved this way, for any that cant, her gorilla arms are deceptively customized to deliver a lot more power than expected. not a boxer but enjoys fighting. doesnt get a lot of sleep, spends her nights doing body weight exercises, fiddling with her arms, reading, trying to meditate. professional to a T. whatever the scope is, she will follow it to the letter. not so much "has to be done right" more "thats what i was told to do"; however, she is prone to leniency. minimal deaths depending on the job and involved gangs. being newer to night city has her grouping gangs, corpos, cops, etc in the same bubble. except for shivs, they all get the bullet.

-"brief" history: mom shot by raffen shiv at 9. while tagging along her first patrol at 12, her dad is killed and she's captured alongside a few others when theyre ambushed by raffen (including another girl, sam). rescued after a week or so of rape and torture. her and sam end up becoming inseparable, bonding over their shared trauma. ends up being useful because she goes mute for a number of years with sam being the only person she talks to. becomes an angry violent teen, getting into a whole host of trouble over the years. between those moments, she helps with mechanic work, insisting she gets a fair trade of pay for her work, saving up for improved cyberware, specifically gorilla arms. violence and trouble get worse for a period after this before she gradually begins to soften (very much helped by her interactions with sarah). spends a lot of time alone, improving and modifying her arms and guns, endless target practice, generally honing her skills and abilities into something useful. works random repair and general modification until she starts legitimate merc work at 18.

-sarah connection: these two are THE sarah/enya pair. he is a traveling monk under a teacher who believes in reaching out to the forgotten of society. but not a bhikkhu (the in-game ones, who are ordained) but a ngakpa (under tibetan buddism). different colored robes and vows. theyll travel, spending a few days in an area before moving on. happy to explain their beliefs (which happens frequently enough), but their only real goal is to converse and learn about others. has a vague rotation so they come around every year or so.

-first runs into him at 16 (him 18, still going through training). distant curiosity a contrast to the rest of the teens. doesnt start bothering him until the next year, finding him when he goes to find a quiet spot to meditate to ask her own batch of questions. seeing as this is sarah dialed up to 11, he has a whole lot of suggestions for her, mostly meditative option. blows him off at face, but ends up following some ideas and finds they actually help.

-sarah is, well, sarah, so she finds him an incredibly comfortable and safe presence. helps her relax and open up more. especially so after they start secretly dating (he isnt that kind of monk, after all). plus, his frequent absences actually brings its own sense of contentment. they get married a couple years later when she's 21.

-since this enya/v follows the game, she does end up in night city, relic, johnny, etc. sarah manages to find her, as he does every year, and what with her whole dying thing, decides he's gonna put off his traveling until she figures it out or, well, dies. he's her rock!! okay!!

-for my own headcanon etc: endgame choice is to have the aldecaldos help out (because of course she'd join them), albeit with a whole host of hesitancy and regret after. the connection in arizona helps out because this bitch deserves a happy ending, dammit. relic and whatnot leaves her with a traumatic brain injury, and after all the shit in night city, both cant and wont do merc work anymore. rather, goes heavy into general mechanic/implant modifications which keeps her busy, well-paid, and content. sarah fully shifts into a householder lifestyle instead of traveling and they live happily ever after fuck u.

-some extra info:

=also low INT, cannot hack to save her life, but her people skills are more refined. more prone to not talking than blurting things out which usually works out for the better. =not a believer in buddism but supportive of her big hubby, and finds some of the practices useful for her own mental health. =has memory dampeners in place a few months after her abduction. part of the reason she doesnt touch alcohol is if she drinks too much, it fucks em up and she gets night terrors. relic eating away at her brain introduces the possibility of the dampeners failing at some random point, so she has those removed. misery and suffering for a brief period but gives her a way to deal with her trauma more directly. =her and sam consider each other what they call friend soulmates. they love and adore each other - which theyre fully aware came about because of the suffering they experienced together - but they wont ever be more than friends (albeit, very, very close ones). sam leaves the bakkers a couple years prior to them disbanding officially, but they both stay in contact.

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corpo; netrunner. monochrome theme. medium chrome. knives, overclock??, monowire.

-baby… baby boy (not really, he's a dick). i do NOT have a solid grasp on his character because the corpo lifepath bores me and i dont like netrunning but i needed someone to fill the role. that and i havent given male!enya (aidan) any real thought. drinks (excessively) but doesnt smoke. casual bi, big flirt, bigger narcissist and ego. pretty standard corpo jackass in the way he talks to people he deems lesser. blackout tattoos. toothy smirks. puppy dog eyes. folded hands. subtle designer clothes. long sleeves, dress pants, combat boots.

-aidan vincent (last name). goes by v/vin/vinny or vincent in general, aidan only with people he's close to. russian/japanese with split citizenship between night city/US and japan.

-NO idea what his "trauma at 12" enya hallmark is, but it does involve someone clawing out his eyes (hence, the scars and implants). was leaning toward one parent being in maxtac, maybe something with a cyberpsycho attack?? dunno yet.

-sarah connection: fem!sarah is seth! specifically sesu in this au as she's based in japan. making my own cyberpunk headcanon where arasoka also is very supportive of traditional entertainment and sports, including sumo. including female sumo because HELL yeh. proves herself and works her way to a higher level. him being involved with arasoka and travel etc. runs into her at a sort of after party. BIG old heart eyes immediately, this boy is a sucker for giant women. takes some work on his end but manages to convince her hes genuine and they have a strong but brief relationship.

-she's the one who ends it - in part, because she knows theyre both trying to focus on their careers, and his work in particular keeps him away more than either of them want. probably also the whole kill-or-be-killed attitude. not her thing.

-he's TOTALLY not bitter and disappointed and mad about this (< lying to himself constantly). overcompensates in his treatment toward others, flirting, and hookups.

-the random bits im making up as i type:

=NO clue on his future. dies sometime in thirties probably, something like he has a hit put out on him by a younger corpo and has gotten to the point of hardly caring so he gets caught off guard. unhappy but resigned. =high INT but people dumb. when he's got less of a stick up his ass, it's fairly obvious he's a himbo. extremely so when he likes the other person. =when he's not diving through the net and experimenting with backdoors and various ICEbreakers, he enjoys knife throwing. will happily play circus act when he gets drunk enough, but otherwise, the knives dont come out unless he aims to hurt someone. has a surprising number on him at all times from having an excessive amount of hidden sheaths stitched into his clothes.

-bonus fun fact about aidan: would unironically call himself a short king (he's 6 feet tall).

(if any of you actually managed to read through my brainrot, you deserve a prize holy shit i love u <3)

[southernmermaidsgrotto]

Do you think love and light spirituality is toxic?

Definitely yes.

Now some of you will run away just from reading those two words, let me elaborate: It's not just toxic, it's actively harmful and racist, ableist, it's white cis hetero male supremacist in every way. Completely rooted in naz1 ideas from the very beginning of it. You just gotta look at the history of the whole movement and there's flaming red flags everywhere.

But even if you don't know the history and social context of how it came to be and popularized (which you should, do your research), just by looking at these people and how they move through life you can still clearly see the issues with it.

I have 3 main problems with the whole "love and light" thing that a lot of new age people spread, the first and biggest for me is spiritual bypassing. New Age "love & light" culture is not only completely incorrect (the dark is just as important, real and necessary for balance as the light, really, I'm saying it as someone with 10+ years of experience and a whole family background in ancestral traditions. The dark shit is Important and necessary, to understand all aspects of life, spiritual and not, to grow as a person and as a practitioner, to protect yourself and yours from both material and spiritual things and to fight either if needed.) but the whole "good vibes only" ends up being delusional at best and straight out abusive at worst, many times gaslighting people and denying racism, colonialism, oppression of all kinds, spiritual and physical illness, mental illness, basic history and science, all things that can have very real, physical consequences on people's mental health, overall health, and safety in general, not to mention the wider effects on society as a whole (having people running around with the emotional inteligence of a clam shell, scratch that, even clams are better than that lmao and spreading misinformation and harm like wildfire). The Second big mess is how much it promotes the complete lack of literacy and rational critical thinking. People will learn a new fancy thing and just run with it without knowing the full history and correct use of things and words, without questioning the source and context of the whole situation. Misinterpreting the little knowledge they have, either because it's something they overheard, or read in 1 book and never bothered to dive deeper into it's roots and history and true meaning, having the most shallow and incorrect "knowledge" of things, etc. It goes hand in hand with the 1st problem to create the 3rd issue: straight out willful malicious ignorance. They don't know any better and they can't be bothered to learn any better either. It's not just laziness or disinterest, it's straight out conscious denial of truth, repression of their own feelings and thoughts and identity even in some cases, to just be able to keep this facade of "love & light" that's killing them from the inside, hurting themselves and hurting anyone they come into contact with aswell, all to serve their selfish purposes and their own agendas.

All these three things feed off and enhance each other in an endless loop, that gets even worse in the kinds of conspiracy theory echo chambers these people move in. The ignorance and immaturity combined with someone who doesn't do any introspection at all and is straight out lying to themselves and others, either from a place of delusion, or in the case of most white people, priviledge. It's a huge system that only feeds white supremacy and keeps people of color disconnected from their true feelings and health, personal identity, culture and community, taking people away from any and every possible source of real power. It's keeping the priviledged in power and the disenfranchised in misery while denying the whole situation, spreading misinfo to confuse, divide and put the blame on the victims instead of the actual victimizer.

Priviledged people spread misinformation and lies because they don't know and don't care + actively benefit from keeping you in the dark, all while screaming from the top of their lungs that they have your best interests at heart and will "shine light on truths" while their actions are the complete opposite of that, then hide from the results of anything harmful they do under the "love & light positive thoughts only" thing to avoid conflict and consequences. It's bullshit. Call them out on their bullshit everytime.

[tablefourtyone]

Taking a trip down colorism's memory lane after the Natlan teaser, and why I'm not as bothered as I used to be.

I know everyone's got complaints about Natlan's "sunlight challenged" cast rn, but I remembered getting annoyed that Kaeya and Xinyan were the only dark skinned playables ingame before Sumeru dropped, because they were the only dark skinned characters we ever saw in the game, like they were an endangered species whose descendants are constantly under the threat of being whitewashed.

I could've had a similar issue to having (so far) four dark skinned Sumeru natives as playables, but I just loved the lore in Sumeru sm that I didn't care about the number, especially when Sumeru's end goal/epilogue was to facilitate opportunities for education and improved livelihoods for the desert people. Ntm that all four are lovely personalities I adore with all my heart.

And as I write all this...

I suddenly realize that it wasn't the lack of skin color variety or even the climate-related skin pigmentation inaccuracy that was bothering me back then. These were nitpicks and pet peeves I had in light of not finding anything genuinely interesting or charming about the game.

In general, I was just...so gd bored of the filler-y vibe of the first 3 nations before Sumeru - because I knew what to expect of Liyue (China), Mondstadt stopped being so interesting once Dvalin came to his senses, and Inazuma was such a huge timewaster I hated with a seething fury that I even disdainfully called it Weeaboo Land.

My Genshin gaming experience before Sumeru was a toxic meringue of mediocrity and lazy writing that I would force myself to sit through, because there were plenty of other characters and lore that kept me riveted, but the creative direction of the game's main story itself was threatening to put me to sleep because things would get dramatic, only to be resolved either by a deus ex machina or by nothing of lasting consequence sticking around long enough to be a genuine cause for concern with the main cast. It was just so...meaningless.

IOW, the colorism in Genshin was the tip of the iceberg for every other thing I found offensive, unreasonable, and unjustifiable about the game.

Sumeru was my first breath of fresh air since we left Mondstadt and Venti.

All I'm trying to say is, to me, the quality of the writing and the atmosphere of the game improved vastly...only when Hoyo was able to broaden its cultural horizons while working on Sumeru.

I can't speak for Fontaine because it was a thoroughly mixed bag of good and bland toast, but it definitely ended strong with Canticles of Harmony.

If Natlan can pull off the same quality of writing skill and world building (and this completely depends on their lead writer for this region), the colorism is no issue for me at all.

It's a hot take, but after what I've been through as someone who wants consistent and comprehensible writing to appear more frequently in future updates, I'm just happy for the writing to make sense and have just a little bit more fun and non-tonedeaf whimsy once in a while.

I simply don't want to be unhappy as a longtime Genshin player.

I want to enjoy this game and explore it and have fun without getting hung up on something.

Ergo I don't want to be exhausted seeing every contradiction and plothole in Genshin jump out at me.

I can't turn my brain off to those, the same way people can't ignore the colorism and misrepresentation on display.

We all have our priorities, and the written content is mine.

So understand that, for me, Himeko's Mavuika's fair complexion and the slight shade of dark tanning that doesn't go all the way up in saturation for the new cast, is only second to the writing for Natlan's situation and its background lore. And I truly wish that when we reach 5.0, the writing captivates us all.

I'm not asking for much. Just sense. And less cynicism and malice from our two spotlight characters. Because it honest to God drains my energy to hate on something that Hoyo treasures and milks a lot.

[tobi-smp]

with the new game theory up about gen loss there’s been some discourse going back and forth, namely with people expressing their annoyance and others reacting as if game theory is the victim of cringe culture and deserve a chance.

this isn’t a full break down on everything that game theory (and matpat specifically) has done wrong, or even a call to cancel him, but rather my personal experience with the channel as someone who’d been a fan from basically the beginning of the channel who instead started avoiding it entirely.

1: consistent background transphobia. things like misgendering frisk for several videos and streams despite people actively trying to correct him or making lazy “I sexually identify as an attack helicopter” jokes during stream as late as 2020.

2: while it’s very true that pewdiepie is an ingrained part of youtube and it’s not uncommon to have him show up in creators’ histories, game theory has not only actively promoted him through controversies, has not only defended him through controversies, but has actively “called youtube out” for giving pewdiepie a slap on the wrist by leaving him out of youtube rewind in 2019 (and, hilariously enough, claimed that it was proof that youtube was silencing gamers on the platform). other creators tend to be Ignorant to pewdiepie’s alt right following and larger controversies, but matpat clearly knows and has used his influence to actively back pewdiepie up.

and sure, I do think the answer is that he’s probably still ignorant to a degree, but this is to the point of malicious ignorance. judging by what I’ve seen of him over the years I’d peg him as a centrist, but that doesn’t change the ugly ideas that he ended up placing himself behind knowingly or not.

3: he’s a serial theory thief. he’s stolen dozens of theories at this point by either taking them wholesale or combining them with other theories that he’s Also stolen to get something new. he does this without asking permission and often without credit. and even when he Does give “credit” what this will often amount to is a single line at the bottom of his description no one will ever read.

I understand why he’d rely on ideas from the communities themselves while theory crafting, he’s been doing this for a very long time and breaking a series down enough to say anything meaningful about it Takes Time. but the lack of verbal credit within the videos themselves is unacceptable. the fact that this has been a consistent issue For Years paints it not as an accident but as intentional on his part. this is speculation, but in my opinion it seems to me that he’s worried people will notice when what he actually has to add to a conversation is Rather Thin compared to what he’s lifted from other people, so he just avoids giving credit and hopes that people won’t notice.

4: his theory on petscop, which is what Actively made me choose to stop watching him forever.

I won’t get into specifics, but a part of his theory was connecting the plot of the story to the real murder of a child that was, to his credit, referenced within the unfiction series/arg. which is Cringe but wouldn’t be worth listing as a crime on it’s own.

however what he did was describe the murder of this child In Every Horrific Detail in the most disrespectful way I have ever seen. the only warning for this that he put was a general content advisory on the episode being “dark and upsetting” at the beginning, which frankly Was Not Sufficient. it was disrespectful to the memory of the child and potentially triggering for the viewer (which I know from experience).

there was no reason to do this in the way that he did and I can’t think about the man without remembering it.

none of this is a condemnation of anyone who’s a fan of game theory, but rather a psa for anyone who believes that the dislike for the channel or the man behind it comes purely from cringe culture. he’s done things that categorize anywhere from “genuinely concerning implications for his real views as a person” to “generally a dick move,” and either way is a perfectly valid reason to simply not like the man and not want to see him in your spaces.

I’d also like to encourage people to add onto this with their own points, as I frankly don’t want to see more of him to find out what else he’s gotten into since I started avoiding his content like the plague.

[thevirgodoll]

hi! i was wondering if you have any tips to stay organized and stay on task? i’ve been doing a short online course this year and have really struggled to ACTUALLY bring myself to do the work, as assignments and lessons are not under any time constraints i just don’t do it. i also have adhd so get bored or distracted easily. do you have any tips for me?

This is really close to me because I also have ADHD. I have both inattentive and hyperactive type. *As a result, this academic tip guide will be a guide for people with ADHD and not neurotypical people, without disability. There is a difference.*

I am doing online as well this semester.

1. I create a schedule. If I do not create a schedule, I will be unproductive the entire day. So, what will help you is to do things in orderly fashion.

For example, at 12p - I will do this assignment/watch this lecture. You have to dictate what time you’re doing everything. Then, you also have to block out technology distractions while you are working. 

-> Even if you’ve gotten halfway through the day with no schedule, write down or block off times on your digital calendar for what you are going to do at each time. ADHD is easier to tackle if you break things down into smaller tasks.

*Pro tip that I almost forgot: before you do anything, wear your day clothes. Don’t wear pajamas. Actually getting dressed or even doing hair/makeup changes things.

2. Download the Forest app after you have created your schedule. I consistently recommend this because it works in increasing productivity. It allows you to set it for however long you’re doing this task, say 30 minutes.

-> Why?: It will block all apps on your phone for (insert time here) to plant a tree, and if you leave the app your “tree” will die. Eventually, the more sessions you do, the more points you will gain to plant different plants, and eventually plant real trees around the world.

3. Have a list (& a planner) as well. Not only is the schedule creating structure, but the list creates even more structure so you know what you need to get done for the day. It also helps you not fall victim to the classic symptom of forgetting. Each day, you should write down what you WANT to get done and create your own times to look at lecture and assignments. Have goals for the day.

For example: complete assignment 2.

If you do not have expectations with yourself before the day begins, your ADHD will kind of take over and do something else. I have structure to my day. I set a timer to wake up at the same time. I take my ADHD medicine 90 minutes before my final wake up time, and I do my morning routine once it kicks in. Having the same routine helps.

-> Focus on your goals. Don’t be super harsh about the times.

-> Don’t overwhelm with how many things on to do list. Again, break it up into small tasks. For example, one part being: Wash dishes or fold laundry. It makes it less overwhelming to your brain and gives you a choice of which task. Typical non ADHD people just tell you to prioritize tasks but that doesn’t work for us. Do it in a random order and it gets the job done.

4. TAKE BREAKS! The other side to this is making sure that you give yourself adequate breaks.

*For hyperfocus, wait til your hyperfocus has started to wear off. Use it to your advantage for peak productivity. It is no joke.*

-> The misconception is that some people with ADHD are lazy and as a result, some ADHDers won’t take breaks. You can take a break. Healthy, long breaks do more for you long term.

-> Have a timer set. For example, after a 45 minute session or an hour session, I will take a break to do another task that has nothing to do with studying, like laundry, eating a snack, or stretching. Then after that task is done, I will go back to studying.

5. Have a workspace. Only do work at this space. I do schoolwork at my living room table and it is perfect. I do not study in my room because that is my sanctuary for relaxation and rest, not productivity. Make an effort to make the workspace clean, with your supplies - laptop, notebooks, pens, etc - readily available.

-> Once I get to my workspace, everything for the morning is already done. I’ve done my morning routine, so all there is left to do is hydrate while I study.

6. Recognize if you have adequate energy to do the task. Sometimes, with ADHD you may neglect your needs. If you are not getting enough rest, here are some tips:

•Bed should be for rest only.

•Blackout curtains

•Lavender essential oil, I have a diffuser but you can also put it on your pillow

•Background noise: pick what you want, lo fi music, rain sounds, binaural beats, singing bowls

•If all else fails, ADHD is often comorbid with other illnesses, meaning you could have a form of depression causing insomnia for example. This should be considered if you are having long term issues and symptoms.

7. Don’t overdo it. We are not neurotypical. Executive dysfunction is real - meaning our brains actually shut down when it perceives a task to be mundane.

-> You do not have to fit everything into one schedule for the sake of being “productive”. Each day should be what you know you can do, and there are different days to tackle different goals.

-> When you feel like you cannot continue, which is literally a symptom of ADHD, sit still for a few minutes.

8. Have a “What I Did Today” List. Because of how ADHD actually makes us feel, we don’t realize how much work we have put in. ADHD actually can be explained easily, we have about 2 dopamine workers showing up to work while most people are at maximum capacity. We are working overtime to do our best, even on medicine. So, acknowledging what we did today is good and encouraging, or at least reflecting in a journal.

9. Play music. It’s recommended to play study music without words because with ADHD we will submerge ourselves into the playlist of nostalgic 90s R&B. I recommend lo fi hip hop on YouTube, video game instrumentals, classical music, or jazz instrumentals. Whatever gets you going just do it!

General ADHD tips:

•Rewrite lecture notes and type the lecture notes.

•Color code with bright colors and pretty drawings or calligraphy

•Instead of telling yourself “I need to take notes” which usually leads to procrastination say “Rewrite lecture notes and emphasize main points” ... this is useful in your to do list but in everyday goals

•Generally try to get your assignments done ahead of time if there is structure to certain courses, if not, again, stick to the schedule. If you slip one day off your schedule then don’t beat yourself up. Breathe!!!

•Side effect of most ADHD meds is that you’re not hungry so buy easy things to eat like muscle milk or yogurt and granola or smoothies so you can sustain yourself

•Get a dry erase board to show what you need to do for the day and put it on the fridge with command strips

•To avoid forgetting things, put them at a table near the door where you leave your apartment/dorm/house.

•Don’t overthink the time it takes to get ready, often that’s why ADHDers are late. Better to be super early than late though - have a routine set so you know how long each task takes - for example “I know a shower takes me 15 mins, washing my face takes 60 seconds and a few more including sunscreen/moisturizer, etc...”

•In that same grain, set timers for going to the bathroom, showering, etc just in case you one day hyperfocus and push yourself too far

•Open the blinds!!!!

•Clean your room and tidy up your space. A cluttered space impacts your mental health in a really negative way. Your space reflects your mental state at times as well, so check in with yourself. Have a specific day where you know you’re going to clean, but ADHD sometimes gives us bursts of cleaning so take advantage of that as well.

•Anytime your water bottle empties refill it. Have your water bottle or mason jar next to your workspace, and drink 5-10 gulps. Seriously. ADHD depends a lot on hydration, especially if you are on medicine which naturally dehydrates you. If you do not stay hydrated, you’ll get that massive headache mid day and crash sooner. A lot of times, lack of productivity can be due to not drinking enough water.

•If you don’t take medication, then sometimes you may notice you love coffee, and that’s because it’s a stimulant. Too much of anything is not good, but balance it with water. If you’re going to use coffee to kinda “medicate” then do it close to when you’re going to be productive.

•Setting yourself up to do a task rather than envisioning the overwhelming act of doing the entire action. “Okay, lets just get up and get the first step down, such as opening the laptop or wetting the toothbrush.” Baby steps.

•Take advantage of accommodations! Your college more than likely has an Office of Disability Services. Also, email your professors...they’re actually just as stressed as you about classes being online.

•Remember that you’re already trying as hard as you can, so don’t listen to the narrative of “try harder”, “you’re *r word*”, “you’re cheating by using medication”, “just do it,” “it’s easy,” “what’s so hard about it?” or “you’re lazy”. Anyone telling you that, even yourself, is wrong. And DO NOT allow anyone to be ableist, even yourself.

•Validate yourself. Don’t let anyone to do the “I experience that too”/“I know what you mean”/“we ALL have trouble with this!” and they don’t have ADHD. No. It’s our experience, it’s valid, and unlike anything on the planet. If you’re reading this and you don’t have ADHD - no, you do not experience any of the things in my next bullet point.

•Don’t be hard on yourself if you stumble along the way getting this right. ADHD completely changes your executive functioning.

We see the task, but our brain blocks it.

We have something marked down as “important” but our brain tosses it out in the “trash”.

We watch an entire episode of a show, but our brain ignored the entire thing. Our brain picks and chooses what is stimulating, our brain changes our interests.

We have sensory overload, we have no dopamine, we have bursts of curiosity that cannot be contained (often inconvenient) and if interrupted, our brains cannot take it.

People often discount how many things ADHD actually changes because it’s widely misunderstood. I want to take the time to acknowledge that ADHD, formerly known as simply ADD, has different types: primarily inattentive, primarily hyperactive-impulsive, or combined which is what I have. So it’s not “hyper” and “relatable”. It is also not a buzzword to use to describe things. I must put stereotypes and misrepresentations of ADHD to rest.

It impacts us emotionally as well, which most people don’t know... such as rejection dysphoria — extreme sensitivity to being criticized to where our brains self destruct. Our brains don’t regulate emotions well.

ADHDers - do not fall victim to how everyone else operates and call yourself a failure. We have to work twice as hard and the results actually come out brilliant especially with our determination and imaginative ideas that are also seen in autistic individuals, honorable mention!

There’s good days and bad days. There’s literal changes in thinking that other people do not experience. We all collectively know wouldn’t be who we are without ADHD, but we all recognize the challenges. However, it makes me happy to see messages like this so that I can make a difference and hopefully help one person with ADHD, especially of color, at a time stop being so hard on themselves. 💗

[kanene-yaaay]

5+1 [Part 3]

5 times Iida was tickled and the one time he wasn’t.

[PART ONE]

[PART TWO]

Kanene’s note: Heyaaa! Okay, I just want you to know that I am WEAK for b-day tickles ! It's just so cute and :'3 *whispering softly* truly precious. Oh, Tenya is 12 years old now! Y a y

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* This characters don’t belongs to me! They all belong to the anime/manga Boku no Hero.

* This is a SFW tickle fanfic with family tickles, so, if you don’t appreciate this kind of content, please, look for another blog. There are a plenty of very greeat arts in this site!! ^w^)b

* This is Lee!Tenya with Ler!Hizashi + Ler!Aizawa with brief Ler!Tensei and Lee!Aizawa. All relationships are platonic. Around 1.800 words.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/

* Allow yourself to have a slow day. Don’t forget to drink water, sleep and eat! <33

[~*~]

Iida drank a second cup of his special orange juice - used only on commemorative days and events - thoughtfully. His birthday party would be late in the evening and, since his family wanted to make it a surprise, he would spend the whole day hanging out with his brother, Aizawa-san and Hizashi-san until all the preparations would be complete. He, of course, offered himself to help with all the decorations, but his parents were firm on their decision and Tenya would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited to have some quality time with his brother and the other two heroes. Their work usually demanded a lot of their time.

 Still locked on his thoughts, as the doorbell rang, the teenager opened the door without a second thought in a polite stance, being rudely pulled out of his own mind as he stared at Aizawa and Hizashi, both with dangerous smirks that suddenly filled Iida with clear memories of a tradition Tensei started on the boy’s birthday and his ‘uncles’ (Tenya one day protested at the nickname, pointing it didn’t make sense call them like that because they aren’t blood related. However, his parents explained that this was just a way to express fondness and closeness for someone you care about. The younger one began to call them uncles with more frequency, except on social gatherings) caught on it as well.

 “Hello! ~” Hizashi chipped, making goosebumps run down his spine as Iida closed the door on their face, internally wincing at the clear disrespectful act, however valuing much more his safety than being a polite host.

(But, actually, he wasn’t truly anxious about it. They were always nice and kind with him, making him smile and enjoy himself, even when he wasn’t the perfect model he struggled to be.)

 Tensei’s head peaked from the second living room’s hall as he dashed at full speed across it, accompanying his baby bro with ease and drops of confusion. “Who was it at the door?”

 “Uncles!” Tenya frowned in concentration as he turned the corner, lowering his speed enough to not go face first on the wall, cheeks slightly red and sputtering starting to become present on his tune. “They are going to do that hideous tr-tradition you started when I was a kid!” And Iida Tenya, future hero from a whole noble ancestry of skilled heroes, definitely did NOT pout at his brother’s carefree laughter.

 “Oh, yeah! I forgot about that! It’s so polite of them to help me to remember, don’t you think?”

 “No!! It’s not polite! High level heroes like you shouldn’t be committing such embarrassing, hideous act in the first place, even less repeating it yearly!!”

 “Aww, you’re repeating your words. You’re excited, aren’t you?” Tensei smiled, knowing his brother enough to notice that gleam in his eyes and the lack of a real protest in his words. He ignored the squeaked ‘NO!’ thrown at him and smiled even wider, doing a fast maneuver that put his body between his brother and the door, hugging him on his chest with a ‘oof’ when they inevitably collided. “You know what? Since they’re being so nice with us, I think we should repay their kindness, right?” Tensei grinned when he heard the footsteps coming closer, shouting “HEY, GUYS! BIRTHDAY BOY IS HERE!”

 “Tensei!!” But he was already smiling, squirming excitedly on his brother’s hold, especially when a loud, happy ‘YEAHHH!’ boomed through the house. “No, no!! This is betrayal! Deception! Dishonesty! Trickery! Treason!!!”

 “Now you’re just reciting the dictionary.” Ingenium laughed, no hint of regret on his voice, distractedly nodding at his friends when they appeared at the door. “Look,” he whispered, conspiratorially, “I will need you to distract them until Shouta lowers his guard so I can sneak upon him. Hizashi would never pass up an opportunity to tickle him too, so you will be safe to run and get something useful for us to bribe them with, ok?” The younger gasped, quickly nodding. “Right. So, are you ready for your part of the plan, sidekick?”

 “YES!” Iida chomped the air, voice louder than he originally intended, but his squeal even louder as the other Iida squeezed his side before any hint of what they were talking about could be noticed by the two guests, who now were now much closer, I might say.

 “Now, now. It seems like a little listener here is excited for his so desired birthday tickles!!” Hizashi wiggled his fingers in his direction, meaneancily. “Oh! They grow up so fast! It feels like it was yesterday we would be playing heroes, and I, the most incredible villain LoudChaos would be defeated by Ingenium Junior and his vicious attacks of kicking his pillows at me!!” The blond pinched his cheek playfully, watching as the groan of his nephew dissolved in a determined look a few seconds later, energetic gestures following him.

 “You will never be able to crack me, villains. Not even with embarrassing memories from my childhood!”

 “I don’t know, I think those times when we had to buy at least three copies of your favorite plushie because otherwise you wouldn’t let us wash the original was pretty- ack! Hey, hey!” Tensei snickered as he tried to dodge from Tenya’s warning kicks, “I was kidding! I was kidding!”

 “Want me to hold him?” Aizawa asked nonchalantly, a small quirk of his mouth showing his amusement about the whole situation. At Tensei's affirmative nod he held the younger’s arms above his head, briefly messing with his neat combed hair before smirking. “Congrats for being twelve years next to death, brat.”

 Tenya deadpanned at him.

 “Ooh, right, twelve!!” Hizashi’s fingers were teasingly getting closer, slowly and then even slowlier, almost touching a spot before pretending to launch at others, resulting in kicks and muffled shrieks from the younger one. “You know what that means, right, Shou?”

 “Yes. We will have to tickle him for twelve entire years.”

 “Aw, such a pity.”

 “No! Lies! That is incorrect!”

 “Is that so, not-so-little listener? What should we do then?”

 “According to your rather silly and foolery tradition you should tickle me for twelve entire minutes. One minute for each year.”

 Aizawa and Yamada shared a look, Tensei holding his chuckles and tears in the background. His brother was just way too much precious.

 “We should what?” Shouta questioned with a voice completely devoid of emotion, maybe that is why Tenya felt the answer slip away from his lips easily even before he could register the potential trap.

 “Tickle me!”

 “Well,” Hizashi attacked, skilled fingers tickling and tickling and tickling every spot they could research. “If you insist.”

 There were fingers dancing on his ribs and poking his stomach as a maddening prodding began to be delivered on his sides and even a squeeze found its way to his knee. A much more lazy, almost unbearably light touch drew shapes on his neck, scribbling lightly and softly to his ears and then all the way back to his collarbone, going from one side to another, over and over again.

 “Coothie coothie coo, little listener!!” His loud laughter, intertwined with squeaks, yelps and guffaws due the mix between all the soft and energetic tickles, almost made the teasing disappear. Key word: Almost. “Have a tickle, tickle here!” He shook his head, trying to dislodge the fingers on his neck. “And tickle, tickle, tickle there!” Spidering on his shoulder blades made him squirm more. “Have all the tickles, tickly tickles everywhere!!”

 “YOHOHOHOU WILL NOT DEFEHEHEAT ME!” Tenya’s smile was almost taking over his entire face, chuckles and giggles spilling freely from him. Yet, - he decided, - he has an important part of the plan and would not lose easily! That was the only reason why he continued firm on his position, figuratively laughing his head out, and definitely not because of how their attention and silliness made him feel happy, safe and loved.

 “Of course not.” Shouta paused for a few pieces of seconds, checking his phone. “You still have five minutes left. I am sure you will agree to a defeat, eventually.”

 “Nehehever!” Iida did his best to shout, quick, airy snickers floating in the air when Yamada decided to give him a break, leaving only Shouta’s torment to keep the other smiling.

 “Hey, hey, hey, little listener!” Tenya knew this tune. He knew that when Uncle Hizashi used that he was planning something. His smile became wobblier and he refused to open his eyes. “Come on, don’t let me hang on here! Look at me, pleaaase?”

 The boy just shook his head, eyes still firmly closed.

 “Shoouuu, he doesn’t want to see the big, great, amazing surprise I have for him! That is not fair.”

 “He is smart. It’s not his fault for your lack of charisma.”

 “Gaaasp! You wound me! Friendship ended with Ereaserhead, now my new best friend is Tensei!”

 A pause.

 “Buuuut, the vacancy is still open if maybe, just maaaybe,” A wiggly finger tickled under his chin, a snort flew in the air, “a clever teenager with a cute laughter and blue hair decides to open his eyes…”

 “Yohohou will not crahack me!”

 “Please,” Poke, “Please, please, pleasepleaseplease!” Poke, poke, pokepokepoke-

 “Stop!” And then he finally opened his eyes, finding a very smiley Hizashi in front of him, making a silly face. He half groaned and half giggled, the former action only due Aizawa’s tickles, of course.

 “Aw, you didn’t find it funny?” The blonde crossed his arms, pretending to think about his next move. “Donut worry, then! I know something that will make you laugh!!”

 And then, in a blink of an eye, he blew a gigantic raspberry on his tummy.

 In the exact moment Tenya’s loud, uncontrollable, squeaky belly laughter exploded, Aizawa let go of his arms, a surprised, sharp snorts coming out as Tensei hugged him from behind, his hands being quick to attack his unprotect armpits, low muffled squeals and rumbling chuckles beginning to float in the air.

 Tenya fell on his knees, hugging his stomach and tittering non stop as Yamada tenderly ruffled his hair, giving the boy’s cheeks another gentle pinch before getting his attention captured by his best friend’s tickled laughter, his wicked grin making another appearance.

 “Is it already Tickle Shouta hours??” He cracked and wiggled his fingers, making a whole show of getting prepared, crackling in delight as the black haired adult laughed harder at the silliness, laying completely limp on Ingenium’s embrace, face starting to be colored by a light red, legs kicking and a hand hiding his mouth, even if the corner of his smile was still clearly visible.

 And, as Iida laid on the cold floor, rarefied giggles escaping from time to time, as new laughter and teases filled the room, he thought that he actually didn’t mind that much that such foolery, silly tradition had wormed its way in their family.

[meichenxi]

Dear ‘White guy speaks perfect X and shocks Y!’ language YouTubers: STOP

A rant about every single fucking video by Xiaomanyc and similar YouTubers all titled things like CLUELESS WHITE GUY/GIRL LEARNS [INSERT NON-WHITE LANGUAGE HERE] AND SHOCKS [INSERT PLACE].

Disclaimer: I am white British, and I am also very often a moron. I'm trying to inform myself more, and would like to learn. So let me know if there is anything I should change, anything I’ve got wrong or any terminology I can change. 

So this evening I opened YouTube to get some quality Hikaru no Go content, and saw yet another video recommended to me about Xiaomanyc called Clueless white guy orders in perfect Chinese, shocks patrons and staff!!!!

Really? Really. Ok, his Chinese certainly is good - but it isn't great. And it isn’t necessarily any better than people I've seen in the higher levels of a class at university who have spent some time in China. It's solidly intermediate. That's not an insult - that level of Chinese is hard to attain, and definitely worth celebrating!! Hell, I celebrate every new word I learn. But while it may be unusual, it doesn't forgive the clickbait type videos like 'White guy speaks perfect Chinese and wows [insert place]'. 

These kind of clickbait titles rest on a number of assumptions. Before I say any more, I just want to make a note about terminology. Note that ’majority’ and ‘minority’ are not necessarily helpful labels, because they imply both a) a higher number of speakers in a certain place, and b) socially prestigious in some way. Of course a language like standard Mandarin is not a minority in China, but it might be in Germany. Talking about ‘minority’ languages that have a large speaker base outside of the country, like Chinese, is also not the same as talking about languages that have been systematically surpressed by a colonising, dominant language in their original communities, like indigenous languages. In many communities, especially in colonial and post-colonial situations, the language spoken by the majority is not one of prestige at all. Or some languages may be prestigious and expected in oral contexts, but not written - and so on. I use these terms here as best I can, but don't expect them to work 100% of the time.

So let’s unpack these assumptions a little. 

1) That there is something inherently more ‘worthy’ in somebody who learns languages because they want to, rather than because they have to: and that, correspondingly, the people who want to are white (spoilers: much of Europe is multilingual, and white immigrants in majority white countries also exist, as well as discrimination against them e.g. Polish people in the UK), and that those who have to learn are not (spoilers: really? There are plenty of non-white monolinguals who are either happy being monolingual, don’t have access to learning, or don’t have to learn another language but are interested in it).

2) That everybody from a certain background automatically speaks all ‘those’ languages already, or that childhood multilingualism is a free pass - spoilers, it isn’t. Achieving high levels of fluency in multiple languages is hard, especially for languages with different writing systems, because no matter how perfect your upbringing, you’re still ultimately exposed to it maximum 50% of the time of monolingual speakers. Realistically, most people get far less exposure than 50% in any of their languages. Also, situations of multilingualism in many parts of the world are far more complex than home language / social language. You might speak one language with your father and his father, another with your mother and her family, another in the community, and another at school. Which one is your native language then? Monolinguals tell horror stories of ‘both cups half empty’ scenarios, but come on - how on earth do you expect a person to have the same size vocabulary in a language they hear only 25% of the time? Also, languages are spoken in different domains, to different people, in different social situations: just because someone hears Farsi at home doesn’t mean they can give a talk on the filing system at their local library. If something is outside of a multilingual person’s langauge domain, they might have to learn the vocabulary for it just like monolinguals. There’s no such thing as the ‘perfect bilingual’. 

3) That learning another language imperfectly for leisure is laudable, but learning one imperfectly for work or survival is not. If you’re a speaker of a minority language, learning another language is necessary, ‘just what you have to do’, and if you don’t do it ‘properly’, that’s because of your lack of intelligence / laziness etc. It’s cool for the seconday school student to speak a bit of bad Japanese, but not so cool for the Indian guy who runs her favourite restaurant in Tokyo. 

4) That majority speakers learning a minority language is somehow an act of surprising benevolence that should not go unrewarded. Languages are intrinsically tied up with identity - and access to them may not be a right, but a gift. Don’t assume that because you get a good reception with some speakers of one language that speakers of another will be grateful you’re learning their language, or that everyone will react the same. One of the reasons these videos are possible at all is that many Chinese speakers, in my experience, are incredibly welcoming and enthusiastic to non-natives learning Chinese. Some languages and linguistic groups have been so heavily persecuted that imagining such thing as an ‘apolitical’ language learner is a fundamental misunderstanding of the context in which the language is spoken, and essentially an impossibility when the act of speaking claims ownership to a group. Many people will not want you to learn their language, because it has been suppressed for hundreds of years - it’s theirs, not yours. We respect that. Whilst it’s great to learn a minority language, don’t do it for the YouTube likes - do it because you’re genuinely interested in the language, people, culture and history. We don’t deserve anything special for having done so. 

5) That speaking a ‘foreign’ (i.e. culturally impressive / prestigious) language is much more impressive and socially acceptable than speaking a heritage language, home language or indigenous language. There are harmful language policies all around the world that simultaneously encourage the learning of ‘educational’ languages like Spanish, and at the same time forbid the use of the child’s mother tongue in class. And many non-majority languages are not foreign at all - they were spoken here, wherever you are, before English or Spanish or Russian or, yes, standard Mandarin Chinese. Policies that encourage standardised testing in English from a very young age like the ‘No Child Left Behind’ policy in the US disproportionately affect indigenous communities that are trying to revitalise their language against overwhelming callousness and cruelty - they expect bilingual children to attain the same level of English as a monolingual in first grade, which in an immersion school, they obviously won’t (and shouldn’t - they’ll get enough exposure to English as they grow up to make it not matter later down the line). But if the schools want funding, their kids have to pass those tests. 

There’s more to cover - that’s just the tip of the iceberg. 

Some people’s response to these videos and why the titles are ‘wrong’ would be: does it matter that he's white? Shouldn't it just be 'second language learner speaks perfect Chinese'? This is the same sort of attitude as ‘I don’t see race’. I think it does matter that he is white - because communities of many languages around the world are so used to them having to learn a second language and colonial powers not bothering to learn theirs. You wouldn't get the same reactions in these videos if he were Asian American but grew up speaking / hearing no Chinese - because then it would be expected. You also wouldn't get the same reaction if he were an immigrant in a Chinese-speaking community from somewhere else in Asia.

It also implies that all white people = monolingual Americans with no interest in other cultures. While we all are complacent and complicit in failing to educate ourselves about the effects of historical and modern colonialism, titles like this perpetuate a very harmful stereotype - and I don't mean harmful as in 'poor Xiaomanyc', but harmful in that it suggests that this attitude is ok, it's part of 'being white', and therefore doesn't need to change. The reaction when someone doesn't engage with other cultures and isn't willing to learn about them shouldn't be 'lmao classic white guy'. That not only puts the subject in a group with other 'classic white guys', but puts a nice acceptable label on what really is privilege, a lack of curiosity, ignorance, and the opportunity (which most non-white people don't have) to have everything you learn in school and university be about you. If you're ignorant - ok. We are all about many things. But you don't have any excuse not to educate yourself. The 'foreigner experience' that white people get in places like China is not the same as immigrants in a predominantly monolingual, predominantly white English speaking area. As we can see in those kind of videos, white foreigners may be stared at, but ultimately enjoy huge privilege in many places around the world. It's not the same. 

It also ignores, well, essentially the whole of Europe outside the UK and Ireland and many other places around the globe, where multilingualism is incredibly common - and where the racial dichotomy commonly heard in America isn't quite appropriate, or an oversimplification of many complex ethnic/national/racial/religious/linguistic etc factors that all influence discrimination and privilege. Actually many 'white guys' in Europe and places all around the world speak four or five languages to get by - some in highly privileged upbringings and school systems, yes, but others because they have grown up in a border town, or because they are immigrants and want to give their children a better start than they did, or because they want to work abroad and send home money. Many, like people all around the world, don't get a chance to learn to read and write their first language or dialect, which is considered 'lesser' than the majority language (French, Russian, English etc); many people, like Gaelic speakers in Scotland or speakers of Basque in France, have faced historical persecution and have been denied opportunities for speaking their mother tongue. My mother was beaten and my grandparents denied jobs for being Gaelic speakers. They are white, and they have benefited from being white in lots of other ways - but their linguistic experience is light-years from Xiaomanyc's. 

It isn't 'white' to be surprised at a white person speaking another language - it's just ignorant. But the two ARE correlated, because who in modern America can afford to go through twenty one years and still be ignorant? People who have never had to learn a second language; people who have always had everybody adapt to THEIR linguistic needs, and not the other way around. People who have had all media, all books, centred around people who look like them and speak like them. And even in America, that's not just 'white' - that's specifically white (often middle class) English monolinguals.

I'm not saying everybody who doesn't speak a language should feel guilty for not learning one ( it's understandably not the priority for everyone - economic reasons, family, only so many hours in the day - there are plenty of reasons why language learning when you don’t have to is also not accessible to everyone).  But be aware of the double standards we have as a society towards other socially/racially/religiously disadvantaged groups versus white college grads. You can't demonise one whilst lauding the other. 

To all language YouTubers - do yourself a favour, and stop doing this. Your skills are impressive - that's enough. 

 tldr; clickbait titles like this rely on double standards and perpetuate harmful ideas - don't write them, and let your own language skills do the talking please.

[magnificent-nerd]

Why Naqib in The Boys sucked

Image description: fictional character Naqib in Amazon Prime’s show The Boys.

(Is the fire in the background an excuse to use racist Yellow Filter to show how exotic he is? Hmm.)

I first posted this on my blog in Dec 2020, and since nothing in superhero media has changed for the better at this time (September 5th, 2021), I’m going to keep talking about it.

Because nobody else does. So, without further ado:

WHY NAQIB SUCKS.

I was a big fan of The Boys season 1; I love superheroes, I love deconstructing a genre. Sure, it has its problems, but overall I enjoyed season 1 and thought the show had potential.

(That’ll learn me for being hopeful!)

When season 1 ended with this big build up of mostly nameless brown and background characters as Muslim terrorists (deep sigh) we the audience are left thinking this one Muslim character (Naqib) whose superpower is to blow himself up repeatedly (insert another long deep sigh here) is going to be The Big Bad of season 2.

I had my misgivings about that direction. Firstly, as you can see from the image of Naqib, he is highly exoticised and is walking around bare chested with Arabic writing on his chest. He looks more like a generic western media depiction of a genie than he does a supervillain. 

And yet he's the first prominent Muslim character in superhero media I've seen in YEARS.

-

(See my post about MENA and Muslim character good guys, including Joe played by Marwan Kenzari in The Old Guard, which is technically a comic book movie but it’s not what I’d call ‘caped and costumed’ superheroes so it’s more... superhero adjacent.)

I follow superhero content closely and as far as I'm aware the last time we saw any named Muslim characters in superhero movies WITH SPEAKING LINES was:

Instance 1) Iron Man 1 back in 2008 with The Ten Rings in Afghanistan, showing multiple Muslim characters as baddies/terrorists, but only two of them as a named character and with any meaningful lines to say. And despite one of them, Yinsen (actor Shaun Toub), being a good guy he still dies! Which is common in western media for Muslim and MENA characters.

Note: Fellow Iron Man 1 castmate, actor Sayed Badreya, makes an important point in this GQ article: "I die in Iron Man, I die in Executive Decision. I get shot by everyone. George Clooney kills me in Three Kings. Arnold blows me up in True Lies…" (x)

Instance 2) A more recent instalment in Batman V. Superman in 2016, with some unnamed 'General' character and mercenaries/terrorists in Nairomi, Africa, referred to only as "the desert" throughout the movie. All reference to the General's actual name are available in an extended/deleted scene only, so a very poor and vague depiction in the final cut.

Instance 3) The generic and badly written ‘bad guys’ in Wonder Woman 1984 (2020 movie), which was honestly such a racist depiction of Arabs and Muslims that many critics pointed out we hadn’t seen a depiction this terrible since 1994′s True Lies. (At least most critics were in agreement that WW84 movie was generally terrible, so there’s that.)

And that's it, those are the only major instances showing any Muslim actors or characters in a caped and costumed superhero movie. 

Some other fleeting glimpses of Muslims onscreen:

Glimpse 1) I spotted a girl wearing a hijab among the nameless and unspeaking background characters of Peter Parker's class in Spider-Man: Far From Home (2019). A first for Marvel movies, apparently.

Glimpse 2) Disney Plus show Falcon and Winter Soldier (2021) had two nameless Muslim characters walk by in a scene that’s supposed to be Tunisia (using Yellow Filter), and ‘thank’ the present American Air Force (eye-roll).

Glimpse 3) Netflix show Jupiter’s Legacy (2021) had a nameless Muslim sailor conversing with one of the main characters in a scene, with meaningful dialogue about racism. (WOW. Really good.) Bonus: no yellow filter. It’s a pity he’s a nameless background character because this brief instance is the least problematic MENA rep I’ve seen in ages, but it is very brief.

I just wrote about Glimpses 2 and 3, and how the Netflix show outdid Disney when it comes to these nameless walk-on Muslim characters.

This is pretty pathetic overall, these small crumbs, especially compared to better rep and probably the only instance of legit MENA superheroes in a ‘costumes and capes’ style superhero show, the Tarazi siblings on DC’s Legends of Tomorrow.

-

Anyway, now I’ve listed what crumbs are available across the live action superhero genre, back to The Boys.

I was intrigued about how season 2 would handle Naqib and any characters relating to him, and what storyline they'd use. 

Was I excited at the possibility of seeing Muslim supers onscreen? Damn straight I was. Did I mind that they were baddies? Well, yes and no. When you only ever get crumbs or no crumbs at all, you tend to get excited over one stale old crumb.

After the build up for season 2, I eagerly sat down to watch the first episode, only to have the first five minutes of episode 1 Trigon him.

Note: who's Trigon, you ask? Well if you didn't watch the DCEU's Titans show, Trigon was The Big Bad who was hyped up throughout season 1, introduced in the season 1 cliff-hanger episode as this big 'oh shit!' moment for the cast of heroes, only for him to fizzle out like a wet fart in the first episode of season 2 while the show pivots wildly in another direction. 

Exactly what happened to Naqib in the first five minutes of The Boys season 2.

Erm, so, Naqib. Farewell, I guess? As a character you briefly appeared in 2 episodes, portrayed by a different actor in each (Krishan Dutt, and Samer Salem). It seems the writers used you as a plot device when they needed a cheap cliff-hanger for a direction that ultimately went nowhere.

Am I disappointed? Yeah, I am. Overall I thought season 2 of The Boys was weaker than season 1, but I'm not here to talk about the whole season: I want to talk about Naqib and this missed opportunity.

The Boys and its showrunners sell the show as being a satire of recent and well known superhero content, of all the big movies and TV shows. There's been a lot of patting themselves on the back for calling out overused tropes in superhero media (and sometimes they've done this satire well: see the LGBT marketing scene with Queen Maeve in season 2), but my issue with the show on their Muslim rep, or should I say lack thereof, is if your show has even less Muslim character rep than the content you're trying to parody, how is this a win for satire?

Naqib and that whole angle came across as a lazy, half-assed swing from the writer's room. Sure, perhaps a lot of the non-Muslim and non-MENA audience won't even notice, as we've been ignored by western media or made into nameless, generic, vacuous baddies for decades now. Non-Muslims and non-MENA just accept that we're always the baddies for no particular reason at all (which feeds into Islamophobia, by the way) and The Boys' writers could say they are simply satirising the tropes already present in media...

But, and this is a big but, the media that The Boys is satirising has already made a step toward better inclusion and representation: Ms. Marvel (Kamala Khan), Marvel comics' first Muslim superhero, is entering the MCU as a lead character in her own Disney Plus show, debuting in 2022. 

Ms. Marvel/Kamala Khan is also cited to appear in upcoming Captain Marvel sequel, The Marvels (2022), which will be a major movie.

The MCU has also cast a Muslim actor (Mahershala Ali) as the lead in a reboot of Blade. That's going to be big news when it starts filming.

So to the showrunners on The Boys, I say this: now you've done this small angle of 'all Muslim characters are terrorists, yuckity-yuck!' like we've seen in major superhero movies thus far, and you've brushed that aside in favor of focusing on other whiter villains, my question is will you come back to Muslim and MENA characters again? Or is that all you got?

Because if that was ALL, then the current score is Disney/MCU:02, Netflix:02, DCEU:02, and The Boys: a big ZERO as far as Muslim and MENA rep goes.

-

Originally posted on my blog, magnificently nerdy.

If you, like me, are always on the lookout for onscreen Muslim and MENA characters in superhero media, and have spotted any characters in superhero TV shows I haven’t watched yet, let me know about them!

Here is my post on good guys, featuring Old Guard’s Joe, and Blindspot’s Rich Dotcom.

Here’s my post about the Tarazi siblings on DC’s Legends of Tomorrow TV show.

And, if Marvels’ Eternals gets released on schedule for 2021, we will have a MENA actor portraying a supporting character. I just hope Marvel gives him a name.

[ackermanshoe]

March comes in like a lion, it's Portrayal of toxic & healthy relationship and how to compares rivamika + Ereh

Que the longest title everr 😌✨

So before I start on the actual analysis, I recently started watching March comes in like a lion instead of doing my assignments and I half way through season 2. For those of you who haven't watched it, it might be a spoilers so beware of that.

In this analysis I'll be comparing the similarities I found between Rei, Hina and Kyoko.

So watching any anime after being do emotionally attached to rivamika it's only natural that I compare them to the characters with even the tiniest bit similarities in their dynamic but Rei and hina's relationship jump in episode 4 of season 2 really caught me off guard and I was like omg?? Rivamika?? How do I make this about them 😩

Anyway so a little background on Rei's relationship with both girls Kyoko and Hina ( Hinata ). Firstly, i subconsciously placed Rei has Mikasa, kyoko has Eren and Hina as Levi, why? You will know on a minute. Rei is a depressed kid who has known only one way of life and that's through shogi games and after his parents death ( cough cough ) he was taken in by a old friend ( I think ) of his dad's who was also obsessed with shogi. Kyoko is the biological daughter of this man who has "adopted" Rei and later on Rei was came to know Hina and her sisters, they were super supportive of him from the start and having lost family members themselves they related to him on a personal level.

So you see why Eren and mikasa's dynamic matches with Rei and Kyoko and not only as "step siblings" it's also the fact that Rei became somewhat obsessed with her through the time he had spent over at their house, it's toxic and it's been showcased that way ever since kyoko was introduced into the series. Rei thought of her when he heard the word "love" and he even admitted to the fact that having her around is toxic and yet he can't push her away. He said he does not want to stop hearing her voice even tho she , herself is in love with a much older man who is married. Everytime she showed up to his bedroom uninvited and slept next to him my mind went "he is in love with her and their relationship is so toxic why does the author keep bringing her into his life?" Or "girl get the fuck away from him".

Without even thinking too much deep into their physical connection I already knew I would be able to related this dynamic to Eren and Mikasa. Although this series gives us much more depth into the main characters views since it's narrated from his own perspective, and the fact that he metaphorically compared his feelings of being lost and sadness helps me as an audience to understand what's happening much much easier than attack on titan. I personally feel like this kind of series are usually short ( idk how long this is) because it feels like the author knows exactly what he is going for, everything is set in stone.

Going back to Rei's ( mikasa's) relationship with kyoko ( Eren ) it's much much clear how toxic it had become for him in more than just one way. And the show isn't denying Rei of his feelings towards Kyoko and it's not even attempting to distant him from her and yet you just knew there had to be someone better right? That's when they introduced Hina and Kyoko in the same episode, meeting each other and a sense of invisible rivalry gushed over them, especially Hina. She is a happy go lucky girl and extremely sensitive to things to the point it kinda annoys me everytime she bursts out crying ( but hey you can't hate a genuinely good character ).

That's where things get interesting for me maybe because I am on that Levi X Mikasa agenda all the time but just like rivamika their relationship has been portrayed as platonic for the longest time in the seaosns. If I didn't go out of way to search up who Rei falls in love with and it didn't say hina's name I probably wouldn't be making this comparison right now because who wants to have their heart broken for the 2nd time in the same fucking month 🙄.

Anyway so in this one episode Hina comes home crying because of bullying issue at school and as she runs off into the dark streets Rei chases her and eventually catching up to her takes her hand and being able to relate to her problems, comparing his younger self to her present Rei reaches out his hand and God fucking damn it he says "you saved my life..I promise I'll stay with you" ofc I'm making this post now you know the real reason 🤡.

The unseen build up that happen between them reminds me of rivamika, the Portrayal of healthy relationship is rivamika. Hina (in our case Levi ) to Rei is the voice of emotion, she speaks out the feelings that Rei has been surpassing all these years inside of him. Just like how we talked about Levi is the voice of reason, while Mikasa has the impulsive urge to act up. Just like how Levi became the perosn who reasonably always took mikasa's side, he gave her personal reasons to take Erens side everytime have an actual meaning towards the scouts / everyone , he then became someone Mikasa was able to object & voice out her opinion towards because she knew that he would response and guide her the right way and finally he became someone she was able to fully trust.

Much like Hina and Rei, when Hina cried out her heart and Rei couldn't help but go back to his past self and imagine Hina coming to him and giving him a hand, being his saviour. It's much like how Levi saw his past self in Mikasa present ( S1 ), Levi gave Mikasa the hand she needed when she didn't know she needed.

Hina despite being much younger than him, was able to make him realise that he too was shutting out his emotions and was able to let himself be free through Hina when she cried, expressing her frustrations and very human like emotions. In the forest of the giant trees when Mikasa and Levi saved Eren for the first time he told her " we got your precious friend, didn't we?" A slight wake up call he had given her for the very first time, an attack on Mikasa's ego and evoking a different emotions within her. Like telling her it's not only about Eren and getting revenge, risking your life so easily, Levi had lost his entire squad in order to protect Eren so now that he is safe they better leave now.

So the question is did Levi and Mikasa save each other?

What can I say that I haven't said already in here about these two?

"you saved my life" Rei says to Hina as he reached out her hand and the beauty of that scene was the fact that it was delicate and soft despite it not being anything romantic. Remind me of that panel of Mikasa touching Levi's shoulder. How ironic is the fact that I'm comparing Hina, a openly emotional character to Levi who is said to be the most emotional inside?

Levi physically saved Mikasa a lot of the time however emotionally Levi saved Mikasa from being selfish and from herself. What if I said and ignoring 139, that Levi was one of of the biggest reasons Mikasa took the initiative and decapitated Eren that day?

Wait why does it feel like I already said it before lol

Through Levi, Mikasa learnt to trust more, learnt that even though they gave difference not only in height, age and in how they treat Eren ( Levi with force and Mikasa with care ), Mikasa still came in terms with Levi and relied on him, shared her burden with him. I think that's the biggest character twist Mikasa had, the fact that she was ready to draw sword at anyone who treated Eren wrong and everyone was scared of her and then came the grumpy shorty who beat her beloved brother right in front of her but eventually he became the biggest form of support she had in the end. I just can not help but laugh at all the unseen development this ship has had and all the implication of Futher interaction after season 3 between them, it's really obvious they had something going on because imagine you don't talk to someone for like 3 years and suddenly when you engage in battle against , paired up with them suddenly you become the strongest duo known to humanity. +?)!#)# make it make sense.

Sooo now you see the that having toxic relationship with a partner is only natural and inevitable but growing from that, opening your eyes to those who actually care there for you is rather healthy. So moral of the story is guys make sure stick with those who tells you to stay with them, the end.

Omg guys this turned out so much longer than I intended, anyway hopefully y'all liked it. I know it's not the strongest comparison or analysis but I feel like I'm running out of words for what I want to say about rivamika it feels like I'm recycling my sentences from previous analysis over and over again because ✨ lack of content ✨ and my inability to think of something new.

Please ignore all my spelling mistakes I have decided to embrace my mistakes instead of fixing them simply because I'm too lazy 😉

💜💜💜

[wonderlustlucas]

satori - park chanyeol

⇢ prompt Let’s make it forever.—sequel to greatest gift ⇢ pairing chanyeol x female reader ⇢ word count 14.3k ⇢ genre fluff & smut ⇢ warnings explicit sexual content, small dirty talk, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms (just 3 don’t get excited), unprotected sex, creampie, mild cumplay?, i think that’s all this is basically pwp but somehow 14k words ⇢ summary It’s been a little more than two years since you and Chanyeol started dating and you have never been so happy. Perhaps you are just blinded by love, but things are perfect and you cannot help but think it has something to do with having the love of your life always by your side. You also cannot help but think this kind of love lasts forever.—established relationship!au ⇢ a/n ok i really wasn’t planning on writing a sequel to greatest gift but then like 1 person asked me to & then i was inspired by 170727 kokobop chanyeol watch the fancam dudes that’s the exact outfit he wears in this & have been listening to forever religiously & really just wanted to write pcy saying ‘nice skirt’ so here we are. u don’t need to read greatest gift to read this but u will have more background info ab characters & relationships. ok that’s all from me, i really spilled my heart out into this one & am very proud so i hope u love satori as much as i do! ♥︎

In the midst of your monotonous Pinterest scrolling, the unlocking and opening of the front door tears your attention away from the video that so enticingly grasps your attention, no matter how badly you wish it to finish. Glancing up, you first look to the television, where your fourth episode of Property Brothers drones on, flickering light into the otherwise dark room. Then, it is Toben who catches your eye, head lifting from his position by your feet at the sound of the door clicking shut. So quick is he to abandon you, excitedly leaping down from the sofa to greet his human. In all honesty, you do not blame him; he simply is not as lazy as you are on this dreary Friday night.

Well, perhaps not so dreary anymore. Sure, the unremitting, hazy rain and grey clouds beyond the warm confines of your apartment beg to differ, but inside, the sun itself has entered.

“You know what’s sad?” You call out to him, lips quirked in amusement.

“What?” He answers from down the hall, followed by the rustle of his jacket as he hangs it onto the coat rack. The familiar deepness of his voice alone is enough to put you at ease; instantly, you feel like putty against the pillow propped beside you when you imagine his humored smile. At the sound of Toben’s nails scratching against the hardwood as he scurries back into the room, you take one last lingering glimpse to the video that has been playing on loop on your phone.

“I don’t know how to tie a tie.”

Making his way down the foyer, he laughs. Barely a low chuckle, mostly out of confusion at your out-of-the-blue statement, but this makes you crack a smile nonetheless.

“Why should you know how to tie a tie?”

You know he is finally here without having to look up. You can feel it, the way his presence beckons for your attention effortlessly, tugging at the strings of your heart and the cords to your soul. The way the room seems to instantly grow warmer, brighter, the way just seeing his frame, tall and regal in your peripheral vision, is enough to have your legs quivering with the need to have him closer. “I don’t know,” you snort, turning to look at him at last, “wouldn’t it be cute if I did your tie before we went out?”

“___, how often do we go places where a tie is necessary?” Chanyeol muses, though you don’t exactly pay any mind to his reasoning. It’s not that you are ignoring him, you’re just… taking time to engrave this image in your mind, just like every other day. He’s beautiful, you distantly note, the epitome of your dreams standing at the entrance of the living room like a beacon, blue light from the TV flashing against his oversized olive-green sweatshirt and hair falling in floofy curls over his forehead. His hair.

His hair.

Somewhere in between you slowly blinking at him in the dark and leaning forward to turn the light on, he asks how your day was. Now, this goes ignored, brain preoccupied trying to fully process the fact that his hair is pink.

“You— what? When?” Overlooking his question, you sputter, “I thought you were at work!”

Amused at your baffled astonishment, Chanyeol kicks his sneakers off near the shoe rack before making his way over, stifling a laugh at your rendered silence. “Do you like it?” He asks, scooping your legs up from the sofa so he can crash down close beside you, quickly laying them over his lap.

Pinterest ‘how to tie a tie’ video long forgotten, you toss your phone onto the coffee table and lean forward, grasping his face in both hands in order to lower the crown of his head to your nose. With only a single inhale, the accumulative scent of bleach and hair dye and everything salon nearly has your eyes watering before you drop your hands. At that, you lean back far enough to fully admire him in the light, cheeks and lips puffy from a long day, skin glowing with the remnants of misty rain, but the hair. Oh good God, the hair. A shade somewhere in between bubblegum pink and your favorite lip gloss, it has your insides alight with butterflies in seconds.

“And here I thought you couldn’t get any more handsome,” you finally sigh, burying your face into your palms. The anxiety that had begun fizzing in his nerves from your scrutinizing is immediately extinguished, replaced with a fresh wave of pride to his ego and, well, absolute adoration for you.

“Is that a yes?” Chanyeol laughs, loud and boisterous as he bends to awkwardly lie against you, paying no mind to the way the furniture creaks as he wiggles his way into the small space. “Duh,” you scoff, moving your arm so he can better nestle his long ass self between your legs, “I thought red was my favorite, but now I’m not so sure.” When he laughs again, you feel it in your soul, the vibrations resonating within you and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his shoulders, tugging him closer. Once he’s caught on that you desperately, always, crave for such proximity, Chanyeol instantly shimmies his way up, dimple prominent when you cup his face one more time to press a welcoming kiss first to his forehead, then his nose, then his lips. “I missed you.”

“I bet I missed you more,” he replies once satisfied five kisses later, turning his head to rest against his favorite pillow, aka your chest. Knowing you will never win in any such argument like this with him, you bite your tongue and take to combing your fingers through the freshly colored strands of hair, cringing at the thought that it won’t be this soft after he’s washed it. “So, what made you do this?”

He shrugs, half of his attention paid toward the renovation reveal displayed on the TV. “Thought I’d switch it up for Easter, so I just went before heading to the studio.”

“What did Jongdae think?” You wonder with a laugh. Out of all Chanyeol’s friends, Jongdae was never one to go for the extravagant hair colors. Orange was the extent of his spectrum, and even that was short-lived. “Said he liked it, then called me an Easter egg, so who knows,” he grumbles, clearly troubled by his friend’s lack of an immediate, one hundred percent approval. This in itself is enough to make you laugh, but you choose to change the subject for the sake of Chanyeol’s immeasurable ego. “Speaking of,” you hum, enamored with just the sliver of his face you can see from this angle, “how’s the album going?”

“It’s good,” Chanyeol hums, chin digging into your sternum when he turns to look at you once more, “Jongdae is gonna start recording on Monday.” As he says this, he stretches his arms above your head before flopping them down by your sides, one cold hand sneaking under the hem of your crew neck to splay against the warmth of your back. Now, this is mutualism at its finest: with the two of you seemingly always running at an internal temperature too high, you both are feens for a cold touch once in awhile. So, as Chanyeol gets to warm his hands up, you, too, benefit with the coolness against your burning skin. It also may have to do with that time he had ice cubes against your—

You shake your head to rid the tantalizing memory.

“I’m so excited to hear it,” you whisper without meaning to, perhaps reduced to mush at your current intimacy, “with his voice, knowing you wrote the majority of the album. Ah, it’s gonna be beautiful.” Pushing his bangs back and giving his scalp a good scratch all the way to the nape of his neck, you add with a wrinkle of your nose, “I wish it was you, though.”

Chanyeol lets out an amused snort, one eye peeled open to glare at you for disrupting the drowsy daze you have cast him under. “But you already have my singing all to yourself, you don’t need an album,” he mutters, voice marbled with sleep and your fingers twitch with the need to trace the swell of his pouty lips. You do it, anyway, and receive a chaste kiss to the pad of your thumb in return.

“How was the museum?” He asks nearly ten minutes later, stirring just slightly to stretch the arm not curled around you up and past your head. You were under the impression he was fast asleep if the shallowness of his breath was anything to go by. Perhaps not. “Slow Friday, as usual,” you sigh, aching to stretch, too, now that the weight of having a grown ass man on you has finally taken its toll, “had a live animal show with the barn owl and Branch, again.”

“Branch is the new opossum, right?” Chanyeol questions, suddenly pushing himself up enough to sit back on his heels. He must have noticed your stiffness. Offering him an appreciative smile, you lean up and fluff the now squashed pillow beneath you before flopping back down on your side. “Yeah,” you hum, pulling him down to rejoin you, “he’s cute. Imprinted, too, so he loves cuddles. Almost as much as you.” It’s awfully cramped with your back pressed up against the leather and Chanyeol flush against you, but you would never complain about having him so close. You usually can’t get close enough.

“I’ll never forget the raccoons. They were so cute,” Chanyeol hums, reminiscent to the singular time your boss allowed you to sneak him in to meet all of the museum’s disabled animals. With his hipbone pressed against the curve of your stomach, he slots one long leg between your own, surely building his nest even though he should eat and shower before getting comfortable. “That was fun,” you agree, pausing for just a moment when his hand, large enough to cradle half of your face, comes to do so. “They were hella messy though, ugh,” grumbling, you return his previous gesture and press a kiss to the palm of his hand when his thumb goes about running along your bottom lip, “I’ll never forget the time Lavender shit in their enclosure asI was cleaning it.”

Chanyeol frowns, brows quickly drawing together and the sudden change in his expression certainly throws you off guard. “Don’t talk about raccoon shit when I’m about to kiss you,” he murmurs, leaning up on one elbow to ever so slightly hover over you.

“Oh?” You chuckle, dragging your hands up the ridges of muscle in his arms to link behind his neck. “I didn’t know that was your plan.” Like this, you still can’t fight your smile at just how well the pink hair compliments the warmth of his honey complexion.

Lips jutting out in a deeper pout, Chanyeol slips his hand under your shirt to grab ahold of your waist. “That’s always my plan,” he sighs longingly, finally swooping down to capture your lips in a kiss powerful enough for the world around you to fall away.

When you wake, you come to realize three abnormalities.

First, your pillow is not where it should be. Flat on your stomach and limbs spread like a starfish, you raise your head just enough to catch the corner of said pillow staring at you sadly from the floor below.

Second, you are cold. This, you have no one to blame but yourself, having torn your clothes off in a hurry and fallen asleep soaked in the warmth of one another. Now, with the blankets only coming up mid-back, you cannot fight your shivers at the cold air against your bare skin.

And lastly, Chanyeol is still awake.

It takes several moments for you to come to your senses, feeling as if you have awoken from a season long hibernation, the haze and confusion of having abruptly awakened rendering you incompetent when it comes to gathering your wits for several moments. Finally, once you have realized where you are, you first take to wiping at the drool that has pooled directly onto the sheets and, consequently, crusted onto your cheek. Nice. Pausing just a moment to collect your disoriented thoughts once more, you then lean half your body off the bed to retrieve your pillow with a grunt, and, just a little further away, your shirt. On your way back up, you catch the time on your nightstand shining an angry 2:43 am at you.

“What are you still doing up?” You ask, voice groggy and thick with sleep once you have flopped onto your back, chest heaving with the unnecessary effort you just had to exert in the middle of your weekend slumber. Squinting past the shine of the bedside lamp he’s kept on and the bright screen of his laptop, you recline just enough to see that he’s… online shopping?

“Baekhyun showed me this really cool site for colored contacts,” Chanyeol explains, then, after turning to you with furrowed brows and a worried pout, “did I wake you?”

God, you’re confused, brain in no state to try and figure out why he’s looking at colored contacts at almost three in the morning when he had fallen asleep with you no more than four hours ago. “No, no… well, actually, I don’t know, I think I just woke up on my own,” you murmur, sitting up to pull the crew neck over your head, “why… why are you looking at contacts, again?”

The rasp of his chuckle is enough to draw you closer, rolling to meet his side and pressing your cheek against his shoulder. “Baekhyun said blue contacts with pink hair is a good look, so I’m gonna order a pair,” he whispers, lifting his arm despite your grumble of protest to curl around your shoulders and tug you close. The white light from his laptop is a bit too harsh on your eyes, but you manage to keep one half open to peek at the selection. Then, “You’re so weird. Go to bed.”

“I will, after I order,” he whispers for the sake of letting you fall back asleep, yet you can hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah, whatever,” you grunt, turning onto your other side but still latching onto his arm, “get me a pair, too.”

For the brief time in between living with college roommates and then moving with Chanyeol, sleeping in on Saturday mornings in the comfort of your own apartment was always your favorite. No obligations, no work, and certainly no one to disturb you. Whether you finally rolled out of bed at ten, one, or four o’clock--- it didn’t matter. If you had plans at night, you still had plenty of time to get ready and you were in a much better mood to socialize than the other days of the week. Sleeping in on Saturdays till whatever time deemed sufficient simply brings about a whole new level of comfort and consists of several factors at the root of such leisure.

This list certainly became askew, however, once you and Chanyeol began spending nights with one another. Before, simply waking to a quiet apartment, ceiling fan humming and sunlight trickling through the bottom of your blinds was your favorite part of the week. But waking up with the love of your life curled into you certainly makes this experience all the better. And at this point, it seems as if waking up with the warmth of Chanyeol’s breath against the nape of your neck will remain at the top of your list forever.

So, for that to be absent is enough to startle you into an upright position only seconds after you have opened your eyes. Palm coming to slap against the deserted Chanyeol-indented space of mattress beside you, you stroke up and down the sheets, once, twice, before the lingering warmth on the pillow and sheets eases your nerves. Spinning to catch the time, you squint as if that will kickstart the drowsy parts of your brain to comprehend 12:37 pm and all the possible reasons why he is not here with you before tossing the blankets aside and rising with a much-needed stretch.

Shielding your eyes from the sunlight seeping in from between the blinds, you first reach for your underwear tossed haphazardly by the window before half-shimmying them up your legs and half-hopping to the door. Perhaps he’s in the office, you wonder, stepping into the foyer but alas, the door remains open and the lights off. Just as you’ve wandered into the living room, scratching by the front door to the right of you is immediately followed by the lock clicking open and, seconds later, Chanyeol has returned.

You’re a little thrown off. Sweatpants, wrinkled t-shirt, moccasins, and a terribly cute case of bedhead, it seems as if he just rolled out of bed seconds prior. But in his hands, he holds two full grocery bags and Toben’s leash.

“Good morning,” he smiles softly, eyes puffy with sleep. Yep, definitely just woke up. “Mom called,” he explains, lifting the bags before passing them to you so he can unhook Toben, “said something about… someone else not being able to cook a main for tomorrow... so she asked if we could do the Easter bread and brought all the stuff for it.” He explains as you rummage through the groceries. Milk, yeast, a carton of eggs; all things you have here, but Mrs. Park’s kindness never fails to surprise you. “Ah,” humming, you make way for the kitchen counter to set everything down, “I was very confused.”

“Sorry,” joining you in the kitchen, Chanyeol curls an arm around your waist and tugs you closer to kiss your temple, “I didn’t want to wake you.” Lining all the dry ingredients up for later, you hand him the rest to put in the refrigerator. “Well, thank you,” flashing him an appreciative smile, you finally take to rubbing your eyes as it seems you won’t be going back to bed anytime soon, “do you want anything to eat? I can make eggs if you make pancakes.” Crust sufficiently wiped from your eyes, you lean against the cabinets and glance to Chanyeol, soaking in the way he seems to glow in the sunlight illuminating him and the messy curls of pink hair. Ugh. He’s the worst.

“Breakfast sounds good,” he agrees, gaze flickering down to your bare legs for hardly a second before taking two short steps closer and suddenly, you’re not so sure he means eggs and pancakes if the way his eyes darken is anything to go by.

“You should probably put some pants on, first,” Chanyeol rumbles with a thoughtful rise of his brows, one hand anchoring onto the curve of your waist while another dips into the waistband of your panties before letting it slap back against your skin.

Despite the burning desire that flares in your abdomen at the daring move, you jut your chin out, eyeing him contentiously. “Oh! You’re right,” smirking, you force yourself to avoid making eye contact in order to calmly slip out of his grip, “let me go grab some sweats.”

You’ve hardly made it to the dining table by the time he’s back on you, reaching for your wrist and spinning you to meet his chest. At the near growl that escapes him, you quite literally quiver from head to toe. “So funny, I forgot to laugh,” Chanyeol grumbles, gripping the back of your thighs to help you onto the wood before diving in to kiss you.

It quite literally sucks the life out of you, but then again, that’s every kiss with him. “I thought it was pretty funny,” you giggle before he really has you loopy on the taste of him, but it doesn’t take long for your jaw to slacken, allowing him further access. So quickly you fall under his spell, fingers curling into the hairs at the nape of his neck and legs coming to wrap around his waist when the kiss turns into nothing more than a clash of teeth and tongue. It doesn’t take long for him to rid you of your shirt, either, or have you lying back before him as he places hot, open-mouthed kisses all the way down from your throat to the waistband of your underwear. Christ, this poor table.

Good thing this is the only such meal ever eaten here.

Out of fear that he would stop once you mentioned anything, you have never complimented Chanyeol on his shower singing. Sure, you have heard him loud and clear throughout your home and sometimes even when he’s secluded in his office, but something tells you singing in the shower is different. You wouldn’t necessarily call it an invasion of privacy considering no such privacy exists in your relationship by now, but you simply do not want to mention it because knowing him, he subconsciously will either sing quieter or amp it up knowing you are listening in. And you don’t want him to change what he’s already doing.

With your back facing the bathroom door, you remain in the same position Chanyeol left you in, on your side with your head on his pillow rather than your own. You should probably get out of bed soon, anyway, the colon between the ten and forty-three on the clock blinking at you in judgment, but listening to Chanyeol sing along to a fourth Radiohead song with the luxurious smell of him around you is a much better alternative. You have plenty of time to get ready, you tell yourself, nestling deeper into the pillow, only seconds before Chanyeol’s singing ceases as he turns the water off. Frowning, you take this as your cue to give up any possible five-minute nap and return to your side of the bed to retrieve your phone.

“Are you up?” Chanyeol calls from behind the door just as you have opened up Instagram. “Yeah!”

He opens the door at your confirmation, showering steam and light into the otherwise cave-like bedroom. “I’m gonna have to leave soon,” Chanyeol says once you have rolled over to look him, towel wrapped snuggly around his hips and Q-tip in ear, “Mom is in her usual panic and asked if I could help her out.” Frowning, you flop onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. “What ever am I to do without you for two and a half hours?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” he hums, making his way over and leaning over you, arms coming to rest at each side of your head. You twitch when a droplet of water running down his jaw falls onto your cheek.  “G’morning, by the way,” he mumbles against your lips after coming closer and you graciously return the soft kiss he offers you. Of course, you pull him back for a second, much deeper one, smiling when he ever so slightly shifts when your fingers come to trail up the toned expanse of his stomach, hand coming to cradle his jaw.

You pull back with a sly smile when his tongue threatens to push past the seam of your lips. “Do you know what you’re wearing?” You ask, ignoring the betrayed look in his eyes when you sit up and nudge him out of the way. “No,” he grumbles, returning to the bathroom once he realizes he is not getting anything more than a kiss. Stifling a laugh, you swing your legs over and sit on the edge of the mattress, watching him comb product through his hair. After two showers, it already seems to have lost its initial pop of color. Sad.

Rising with a stretch, you head toward the closet and stop along the way to pull a pair of sweatpants up your legs—just so he doesn’t get any ideas—and flip the closet light on before opening the doors. At the sound of the hairdryer roaring to life, you take to sifting through the shirts he has hung up, trying to avoid the blacks as this is his family’s annual Easter get-together. It certainly is not as extravagant as Christmas, but Chanyeol is a man of style and you know he prides himself showing up as best dressed. Going something pastel would be a nice change for the spring season, but yet again… you linger on a navy button-up. The white decal means he could wear white pants, but it is a little casual, barely a step up from a Hawaiian shirt, but maybe he could wear a nice jacket with it.

Plucking it by the hanger, you turn toward the bathroom and hold the seemingly unworn shirt out to him as he moves to the last section of damp hair. “This, with white pants? Do you have a jacket this color?” You shout over the hairdryer, reaching to brush away a tuft of hair falling in his eyes. Chanyeol considers it for a moment, gaze flickering back to his reflection before nodding to you. “Yeah, in the other closet, though. Thank you,” you just barely hear him but smile nonetheless, stealing the dryer from him to direct the hot air toward the back where hair refuses to lay flat.

Passing it back to him when you’re done, he only does one more run through before switching it off and moving on to gel just to assure the hair he has combed back stays up and away from his forehead. “You look really handsome with it parted like that,” you compliment, staring up at him with wide eyes and you mentally slap yourself at how flustered you sound. Dating for over two years and you still can’t get a grip. The look on his face makes your embarrassment worth it, though. “I had no idea how the back looked, so thank you,” Chanyeol chuckles, rinsing residue gel off his hands before unplugging the hairdryer and ushering you back into your bedroom. Not without another kiss, of course. As a treat.

Hooking the hanger with his shirt onto the doorknob of the closet, you take to undressing as he does the opposite, tossing your sleep apparel to the hamper and only stopping to help him redo the buttons of his shirt he so kindly misaligned. “I’m gonna get in the shower,” you hum, goosebumps coming in waves when his hand comes to glide against your bare skin, starting at your waist, up the curve of your breast, over your collarbones and finally cradling your neck, “I’ll see you in a little bit?”

“Yes ma’am,” he affirms, ducking to peck the corner of your mouth, “I’ll get an Uber so you can have the car?”

“No! You drive, don’t you have to pick stuff up? I’ll Uber,” you offer, wrapping your arms around him and blinking up at him with your chin sitting on his chest. When he shakes his head you realize, as usual, there’s no point in arguing. “It’s fine,” Chanyeol grins, pinching your side, “no one else gets to drive my girl but me.” Rolling your eyes to counteract the heat that flares its way up your neck, you pull away, smoothing out the wrinkles you made in his shirt. “Yeah, whatever. Don’t forget a jacket.”

“I won’t,” smiling, he leans over to give you a proper kiss this time, “see you at two.”

Once the Park family, as well as distant relatives and close friends, found out you and Chanyeol were together, things certainly changed.

You were no longer simply Seoyun’s best friend. Everyone knew you at that point, sure, accepted the fact that where Seoyun went, you followed, but dating Chanyeol had all the stage lights pointing to you. You couldn’t necessarily understand why that came to be, but assumed that it simply had to do with how popular he is, even in his own family. For someone not nearly as outgoing as Chanyeol, the news came as a surprise to many on that monumental Christmas party two years ago. Others, however, apparently had their bets on when the two of you would finally crumble for years.

Chanyeol’s mother, for example, was one such person.

For as many things that went wrong this morning, from your straightener not heating past one-fifty, to having a breakdown over what to wear, and even messing up your eyeliner one too many times, you have somehow arrived seven minutes early. Before you left, Chanyeol had called, too, asking you to pick up two bottles of soju and a bag of glass noodles because 1) him and his cousins already managed their way through a bottle and 2) the noodle pack his mom picked up was half the serving she needed. This alone tells you you’re in for a long night.

Christ, it would have been nice if he was here to open the door for you, though. With a heavy grocery bag, wrapped Easter bread, keys, and handbag threatening to slip off your shoulder, it takes ample effort to safely hook your pinkie finger around the grocery bag so you can lock the car. Then, you manage to open the storm door with your elbow, seconds away from dropping the Easter bread in the endeavor. Chanyeol claims he forgot it on the counter. Luckily, the maroon front door with its pretty spring wreath has been left ajar, and it isn’t until you have finally slipped your way inside does someone realize whoever’s huffing and puffing out there needs help.

“Here, I’ll take this,” he offers in a rush, further opening the door to accommodate the two of you and taking the bread from your arms.

“Thank you,” you smile, wiping your boots on the welcome mat before looking up to your knight in shining armor.

Oh. Oh.

“I don’t think I’ve met you before,” you chuckle, squinting at the ridiculously attractive stranger. Phew. There’s no way you would have missed such a face in all your years with the Park family whether Chanyeol was the apple of your eye or not.

“No, you haven’t. This is my first rodeo around here,” he grins brightly. His smile makes him even more attractive, if that is possible. “I’m Jongin. Nice to meet you…?”

Oh. Oh.

“Jongin, as in Kim Jongin Park Seoyun’s boyfriend?”

“Yes…?” He trails off awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “You apparently know me, yet I don’t know you.”

“I’m ___,” you laugh, stepping past him and leading him out of the front foyer. When you glance back at him, you can see the gears turning in his brain before an excited expression of recognition flashes across his face. “Oh! Oh, shit. You’re the infamous ___. Christ, sorry. Hi.”

“I’m not sure why you’re apologizing, but then again, I have no idea what that woman has said about me,” laughing, you pause to wave to some of Chanyeol’s cousins in the family room before continuing with Jongin to the kitchen, “don’t trust anything she says. I promise I’m nice. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, though, Mr. Jongin.”

“Ah, you as well,” smiling softly, he seems quite overwhelmed at the Park’s rowdiness, gaze anxiously flickering around the crowded room as he ever so slightly steps closer. You distantly wonder why Seoyun would leave him stranded, but that’s not your problem. “So, if you are ___, does that mean you’re…”

Like some sort of cartoon, Jongin trails off just as both of you find Chanyeol in the crowd, beer in one hand and bowl in another as his mother deposits what looks like mussel and scallop shells into it. Maybe it’s your automatic Chanyeol-tunnel-vision, but even in the midst of the busy room he seems to be the rising star, standing tall and regal by the counter, laugh booming over all the noise and simply glowing in the warm wash of light. He managed to find a navy jacket practically matching his shirt, too. Dear God. “Yeah,” once you finally tear your gaze away to turn to Jongin, he’s already watching you, smiling at the way you so lovingly looked at Chanyeol. “I’m the lucky lady.”

“Hey, he’s the lucky one,” Jongin adds, nudging you with his elbow. Seoyun certainly got a good one. “Speaking of lucky,” you start, craning your neck to search for said girl, “where’s S—”

“___!”

You are so kindly interrupted by your intoxicated boyfriend shouting for you across the room. Flushing in embarrassment and trying to ignore all the heads that turn in your direction at the sudden announcement of your arrival, you reclaim the Easter bread from Jongin’s arm, offering him an appreciative bow. “I’ll catch up with you later. Tell Seoyun I was looking for her.”

At his affirmative smile, you suck in a deep breath before spinning around and maneuvering your way to where Chanyeol and his mother stand by the oven. “I was wondering where you were,” he greets, setting his beer down to take the bread and soju from your hands before squashing your nose in a deep kiss that his mother and family really did not need to see. Blinking at him in surprise, you don’t even bother asking him what the hell that was about and turn toward Mrs. Park instead, who has just finished wiping her hands before opening her arms for you.

“It’s wonderful to see you, love,” she hums when you wholeheartedly accept her embrace, arms coming to wrap around her. “You too, Ma,” pulling back just enough to look at her with a brow raised, “I hope he helped you enough before he started drinking, or do I need to have a talk with him?”

She laughs, plucking up a wooden spoon to stir what looks like kimchi stew. “No, he helped a great deal. Vacuumed before anyone arrived and helped make a few things with his sister,” she explains, gaze lighting up when you pull the pack of glass noodles from the grocery bag. “Oh! Thank you so much, dear. I was so angry when I saw how little was in my bag,” then, turning to yell out over her guests, “Yura! Come finish your japchae!”

“Go grab something to drink, ___. Dinner will be ready in an hour or so, there’s plenty of appetizers out already. Thank you, again,” Mrs. Park grins brightly at you, squeezing your hand before returning to chopping vegetables. Crumbling the plastic grocery bag in your hand, you turn to Chanyeol who appears to be deep in conversation with a couple standing across from him, but you can tell by the way he keeps grazing over the appetizers on the counter next to him and avoiding eye contact that he is in desperate need of an escape. This being said, he still jolts in surprise when you return to his side, one hand curling around his bicep as the other glides down his arm to intertwine your fingers with his. The woman droning on pauses her chatter at this, the corner of her lip twitching up and she takes this as her cue to move on, offering the two of you a wink before dragging her husband, assumingly, out to the back patio.

“Ugh, thank you,” Chanyeol grins once the door shuts behind them, looking down at you with puckered lips, “I missed you.” Snorting, you let go of his arm to move to the now open spot beside him, eyeing all the pickies laid out in front of you. “Was going to make fun of you, but I missed you, too, so it looks like we’re both clowns,” you sigh, grabbing a fork to stab into a slice of mozzarella. Chanyeol stays quiet, opting to fondly watch you instead, smile only growing when you try one of everything. “Oh,” you remember, pausing to swallow the last bit of spicy chicken, “I’m glad you found a jacket. You look great.” You kiss the tips of your fingers, waving them just for emphasis.

Chanyeol’s grin is instantaneous, stretching his arms in front of him and literally checking himself out in front of you. You’re not judging, of course— if you looked half as good as him all the time, you would do the same. Plus, navy does wonders against his skin tone. “Thank you,” arm curling around you, he gives your side an affectionate squeeze, “you don’t look too bad yourself.”

Smiling at his compliment, you continue to make your way through the appetizers. Plucking up a cube of cheese, it isn’t until you have bitten half do you realize your mistake. “Ew,” you cough, sticking your tongue out as if that will rid your taste buds of the sharp provolone flavor. Nose wrinkling, you hold the other half out to him, “Here, you like fancy shit like this.” What you certainly do not expect is for him to go right ahead and bite the cheese straight from your fingers, lips just barely wrapping around your thumb. Despite the way your stomach swoops at the action and the way he stands back to his full height, lids hooded and gaze dark, your first instinct is to look around you, heart racing at the thought of one of Chanyeol’s aunts or uncles watching him eat cheese from between your fingers. Christ, it sounds even worse when you think about it.

Swallowing past the sudden dryness in your throat, you tell yourself you know this dance— you know how to handle Chanyeol just as much as he knows how to handle you. Slowly turning back to him, all you offer is a challenging rise of your brow before reaching for a different cheese, trying to ignore the way your pulse races just by having him close.

As you search for a cracker, perhaps even a pretzel, you see from the corner of your eye how disgruntled he is with your reaction, considering you with a flare of his nostrils and a pout of his bottom lip. Plan B, it is.

Squeezing your side harder, Chanyeol leans in close this time, brushing hair away from your ear with his other hand before whispering, “Nice skirt.” Now, this certainly nurses a much better effect, the richness and deepness of his voice alone dripping like chocolate into the very core of your being. It’s only a two-word compliment, yet you practically choke on your mouthful of food. When he tugs at the hem of the plaid wool skirt you wear, two thoughts momentarily cross your mind: 1) the compliment is nice, especially since you were worried it was a bit shabby looking but 2) he may just be saying that to get a rise out of you.

“Thanks,” you murmur, summoning the courage to slide your palm from the waistband of his slacks, all the way up his chest to finally cup his jaw before standing on your tippy-toes, pushing yourself to meet his ear. The ball is in your court, now. “Bet you’d like it better if it was off, no?”

You don’t miss the way his breath hitches, grip on your waist tugging you closer and you distantly hope it simply looks at if the two of you are deep in conversation. Over cheese and whatnot, of course. “Don’t tempt me, ___,” Chanyeol hisses, “I’ve fucked you with my family just beyond a door, you know I’d gladly take you on the counter right now for everyone to see your pretty pussy.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Alarms. Panic. Shit, now you’re wet. What have you started? Maybe you don’t know how to handle Chanyeol as well as you think— he undoubtedly has your tongue tied now. You can’t even begin to think of a response that doesn’t involve tearing off the lace shirt you spent so long ironing for him to fulfill such an alluring threat. He must feel how you tremble against him, heat burning from the inside out and suddenly he’s withdrawing, regarding you with his own challenging brow raise, eyes dark with hunger as he awaits your response.

“Hey, Chanyeol! Stop hiding ___ from me!”

The relief you feel comes in cooling waves, jerking you out of your trance and you turn just in time to see Seoyun stop in front of you, finger jabbing into Chanyeol’s chest. “Can’t you back off for like, two seconds?” She barks, oblivious to his heavy breaths. Then, pulling Jongin who was hidden behind her to Chanyeol’s side, “You two, meet. Talk. Do the bro thing while I drink some mimosas with my girl.” Oh, good. You sure could use one of those. Or two. Or three.

Chanyeol puts his arms up in defense, glancing at Jongin who only shrugs in identical stupefaction. “Perfect! Okay, see you guys later. Don’t bother us, we have girl things to talk about,” Seoyun threatens, shooting a second cold glare to Chanyeol before softening up and smiling softly. Then, she’s dragging you toward the back door, hardly giving you time to look back at Chanyeol.

When you do, you know that threat won’t be forgotten easily.

After ‘dinner’ sometime around three-thirty, the hours start to blend together, four turning to six, and then all of a sudden, it’s eight o’clock. Family gatherings seemingly always go like this—when you were kids, this was time spent running around outside, about the house, playing games or opening presents (depending on the occasion). Now, this is when things mellow down; from chugging mimosas with Seoyun in the backyard, you now opt for wine, just to seem sophisticated, and the atmosphere is much calmer. Peak adulting, right here.

While many family and friends leave once the post-dinner sleepiness fades, close relatives remain, gathering together and using the time to share stories and life updates. These are always your favorite times with the Parks. And even though Chanyeol is on probation, sitting on another sofa across the room for the stunt he pulled earlier—no, the other stunt, where he held your thigh during dinner but kept inching up until his fingers brushed along your panties when his aunt was sitting right next to you—tonight, in particular, has been one of the best nights spent with your second family.

Every so often, usually when you are PMSing, a dreadful thought enters your mind and always returns whenever you are with Chanyeol’s family: you love them just as much as you love him. It was Seoyun, not Chanyeol, who introduced you to them first, and you have spent more than a decade growing up with them. It goes without explanation that you consider them as your own family now, too. So, what if you and Chanyeol broke up? You are an adult now, so it’s not like Seoyun would ask you to join her for the company like she had when you were kids, and it wouldn’t make sense for Chanyeol’s parents or aunts and uncles or grandparents to invite you… You would not only lose Chanyeol, but your family, too, and that’s enough to make any grown woman cry.

So, looking around the living room full of many people you have grown to love, you try to make the best of it. Not that you think you and Chanyeol are going to break up, no, but it is an inescapable fear that you will never be able to simply ignore.

But you can brush it aside for right now, at least— especially when you are curled into Mrs. Park’s side with Seoyun’s head on your lap.

“Are you guys gonna get married?” Your best friend asks, completely out of the blue. You just finished ranking your favorite teas, now we’re talking about marriage? “Um,” you cough, glancing up to Ma for help but she’s looking at you with an identical expectant rise of her brows. Must be a Park thing. Christ, what is this, the girl’s gossip table in fourth period lunch? Still… are you going to get married? You can’t necessarily answer that on your own. You have no idea what Chanyeol is planning for his future, sure, you’d like to get married, but you are also not in any rush, and—

“Yes,” is what you say, before your mind has even caught up. “Wait!” You quickly add on, smacking a palm to your forehead. Then, “Yes… I’d like to get married. But I don’t know if he wants to, and even if he does, we’re in no rush, he’s been busy producing and…” Trailing off, your gaze has somehow wound up to the ceiling, and when you glance back to them, their features have noticeably softened, eyes glossy with joy.

“I love him, a lot,” you say, quieter, gentler this time, zoning in on Chanyeol across the room and his pretty smile and the way the whole room seems to light up when he laughs. “If he wants to get married, I’ll marry him. And if he doesn’t… well, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait forever, for him.”

“My boy is more than in love with you, ___. You’re his whole world,” Mrs. Park says and when you tilt your head up at her, the look in her eyes suddenly makes you want to cry. Again. It’s from the wine, you tell yourself. “If he doesn’t put a ring on it soon, I’m gonna fuck his shit up,” Seoyun snaps, the alcohol in her system clearly doing the talking here as she stares absentmindedly up at the popcorn ceiling. Laughing, you slap a hand over your mouth, expecting Ma to reprimand her niece for such language in front of her. Instead, she joins in and soon enough, the combined laughter from the three of you has all of your earlier worries washed away.

“What’s so funny, ladies?” It’s Mr. Park here to interrupt this time, an amused smile forcing a dimple in his left cheek. “Ah, nothing, honey,” Ma coughs out one last giggle before reaching for her husband’s hand, giving it an affectionate squeeze. “Just making fun of Yeol.”

“Oh, my favorite. What did he do this time?”

“He hasn’t asked ___ to marry him yet,” Seoyun pipes up from your lap, head tilting further back so she can look at her uncle.

“Why do I keep hearing my name over there?” Chanyeol shouts, leaning up far too quickly from his relaxed position and you can tell by the way his head bobbles that he has had one too many drinks with his uncles and cousins. Looks like you better slow down if you want to get home safely. “Because you’re paranoid!” You shout back, scrunching your nose at him because you know he knows you’re right. Frowning, he motions with two fingers that he will be watching you before returning to his own conversation.

“So, you met Jongin,” Seoyun starts once Mr. and Mrs. Park have fallen into a separate discussion beside you. You’ve had this conversation twice, already, but you don’t mind having it again.

“I have,” you hum, softly adjusting the weight of her head on your thighs so you can sit more comfortably, “I can’t believe you guys have been friends since university and this is the first time I’m meeting him.”

“Well… it’s not like we hung out all that much. We haven’t been in touch for a while,” Seoyun mumbles, eyelids fluttering closed once you begin combing through her hair.

“I refuse to believe that. There’s no way you would have given up a man that good-looking.”

“Hey!” She grumbles, smacking your knee. “He was abroad senior year! And then life just kind of took over. He had a girlfriend for a while after graduation, too. We only started talking again when I bumped into him in Target last year.”

“Mhm, sure,” you hum, looking up to find him. Your heart does somersaults once you find him seated on the same sofa as Chanyeol, cool as a cucumber compared to how overwhelmed he seemed earlier. “I’m happy he seems so comfortable with the family. I’m happy for you, too.”

The playful gleam in her eyes softens as she leans up, sitting up to face you properly. Then, squeezing your hands, “I’m happy, too. Ever since you and Chanyeol started dating… I wanted what you had so, so bad. And I know we’ve only been together for five months, but I’ve never been so happy with someone.”

“Do you love him?” You whisper, searching her face when she turns to look at Jongin across the room. You can see it— the look in her eyes, the complete and utter adoration and admiration. You see it because you’ve felt it, too. You’ve felt it looking at Chanyeol, and you’ve felt it when he looks at you.

“I do. I love him a lot, actually,” Seoyun finally admits, turning back to you and for the first time in years, you see genuine tears trail down her cheeks. “Oh, no,” you hush, dabbing under her eyes to make sure her mascara doesn’t run, “shh, don’t cry. I know they’re happy tears but your makeup looks too good for that.” Pulling her into a hug, you cradle her head into your shoulder and hope no one is looking at her strangely.

“I know,” Seoyun hiccups, squeezing you tightly, “I’m just so drunk and happy for you and for me, I couldn’t help it.”

Laughing, you push her back before cupping her cheeks, wiping at the stray tears. “It’s alright. Crying when you’re happy is a good thing. It means you’re doing something right, Seoyun.” Smiling despite the wetness of her cheeks, she straightens up, dabbing away tears under her chin before cupping your face as well. “Thank you for being such an amazing best friend all these years,” Seoyun says, reaching forward and planting a hefty kiss to your lips, “but I think it’s time for us to go home. Show Jongin how much I really love him.”

When she stands, you’re still trying to process the unexpected kiss she just gave you but brush it aside for now, considering you’ve kissed plenty of times in your years of friendship. “Alright,” standing up after her, you give her one last hug, “text me when you get home.”

“I will. You have a good night too, ___. Chanyeol’s been eating you up alive for the past hour,” winking, Seoyun finally turns away to bid her farewells to the rest of her family. Speaking of Chanyeol… you step around Seoyun and make your way toward him, desperately trying to ignore the way his gaze travels slowly up your approaching form.

“Hey,” he greets when you reach him, tugging you by the wrist to sit on his lap. Luckily, the family surrounding him are turned the opposite direction toward the television, leaving your intimacy to go unnoticed. “Hi,” you return, arm draping over his shoulders and fingers burying into his hair. “You ready to head home?” Chanyeol asks, arms wrapping around you to pull you closer so he can nestle into the crook of your shoulder. “I’m ready when you are,” humming, you take to tracing patterns against the skin of his neck, resting your head atop his as your eyelids threaten to flutter shut.

Reaching for your other hand, Chanyeol brings it to his lips to kiss your knuckles. “Y’know, nothing makes me happier than seeing you cozied up with my mom.”

“Well, I think she was pretty impressed by our fantastic Easter bread.”

Snorting, he brings his head back to look at you. “It was pretty good,” he agrees. Then, cradling your jaw, “But it’s more than that. Having the two most important women in my life get along so well means so much to me, ___.” Bringing you closer, Chanyeol finally kisses you, soft and slow and when your eyes close, you feel right back at home, warm all over and overflowing with ardor. “Come on,” nuzzling the tip of your nose with his, “finish your drink and then let’s go home.”

“We need to plan things more often. Mom and I want to see you more than once a month,” was the last thing Mr. Park said to you before you left for the night.

“I love you very much, sweetie. Keep in touch,” Ma had whispered in your ear as you hugged her goodbye.

This is all you can think about as you drive home. Chanyeol was much drunker than he led on, so with him knocked out in the passenger seat, head against the window, you’re left to your own thoughts. The soft lo-fi Chanyeol begged to put on the radio before he passed out doesn’t help, either, but the overall peace and quiet is enough to have you dwelling over your night.

This week leading up to Easter has been especially rainy, too, and even now as you lower the cruise control to sixty-five, hazy rain begins to set on the windshield. Switching on the wipers, you steal a quick glance to Chanyeol who stirs once you move back into the middle lane. And as much as you want to reach over and hold his hand, you don’t want to disturb him.

Maybe it has to do with all the time spent catching up with Seoyun, but you’re left in an overly nostalgic, sentimental mood.

There was quite a lot of talk about love tonight. What Mrs. Park and Seoyun dumped on you about marriage certainly threw you off. Sure, you definitely have imagined marriage and Chanyeol in the same picture, but it was never a topic either of you openly discussed. It just never came up. Despite the fact you have been dating for over two years, sometimes it feels as if you’re still in the honeymoon stage with how perfect things have been. You’ve had your fair share of fights, sure, but nothing ever large enough to have you questioning your relationship. Your mother always told you living together, managing finances together, and raising a child together (Toben) is the true test of love.

But you and Chanyeol have done all that already. You’ve been living together for quite some time, and there’s nothing he does that makes you want to rip your hair out like some couples seem to experience. And, while he does tease you over little habits, he has never mentioned something that seriously infuriates him, either. The two of you share everything at this point, and you can’t imagine marriage seriously making all that of a difference.

Just the life-long commitment.

But when you look at him now, you realize there is no other way you would want to live out the rest of your life. You can’t imagine ever finding someone after Chanyeol, someone you could possibly love more— as you’ve said from the get-go, it’s always been him. From the time you first thought he was cute in sixth grade, to senior year when you realized you loved him, to Christmas two years ago, to now, there’s no one else you would or could ever devote yourself to.

It’s always been him, and it will be forever.

“Chanyeol,” you whisper, then, realizing such gentleness will not wake the giant, you reach over to pat his thigh. “Chanyeol, we’re almost home.”

Chanyeol grumbles, a deep, growling noise that supports just how far gone he is. “What time is it?” He asks groggily, stretching his long limbs and cracking his neck from side to side. “Almost ten,” you hum in reply, quickly glancing to the time on the dash before taking one last turn onto the street of your apartment complex. It’s strange to see the city so dead on a Sunday night.

“___,” Chanyeol groans somewhere behind you as you hurriedly make your way through the parking lot. It was not this cold earlier. “Why are you walking so fast? I thought heels made people slow.” Stopping, you look down to your high boots, realizing that in your rush to get inside you had not even realized just how sore the bottom of your feet are. “I’m cold,” you whine back, bouncing on your toes and crossing your arms in an attempt to contain some body heat as Chanyeol sluggishly makes his way toward you. Maybe if you hold his hand or something he’ll move quicker.

“Come on,” you mumble, intertwining your fingers with his and tugging him along.

You don’t get there any quicker.

You barely manage to open the door with the way Chanyeol clings, hugging from behind and nearly tripping you with those clumsy feet of his. “Chanyeol,” you whine for at least the fifth time, borderline annoyed but watching him scowl at the eight stairs he has to climb like they’re some sort of math problem is quite amusing. “Come on, you big baby,” you decide to meet him halfway, reaching out for his hand and hauling him up with you. When you finally make it to the top, he’s reduced you to a giggling mess and uses it to his advantage, pushing you toward the wall.

“I’m not a baby,” he huffs, breath heavy with the amount of effort he just had to exert. “Yes, you are. C’mon, when we get inside, I’ll swaddle you in your favorite blankie and read you a bedtime story,” you taunt. Still, you find yourself spreading your legs just a tad wider for him to slot his thigh in between, his nostrils flared and frown deep as he towers over you, caging you in.

He chooses not to verbally reply. Instead, one rough hand anchors itself to your waist while the other slides to cup the side of your neck, thumb tilting your chin up to meet him. No matter how much alcohol may run in your systems, kissing Chanyeol will always be the one constant neither of you could ever miscalculate. It simply is an all too familiar doing, one you’ve spent days and weeks and months practicing until it became a subconscious reaction. It is a beginning and an end, your unraveling and your reawakening, an elixir that creeps its way into the very marrow of your bones and blossoms like a spring flower in your lungs.

You intended to string him along until sobriety finally brought him to his senses, but you think this is manageable, something to tease and dangle over his head before deserting him despite the way every fiber of your being craves for him. You can picture it— the confused anger flashing in his eyes when you push him away to continue down the hallway, fire in his veins dwindling to nothing but embers as you discard him for the third time tonight. And so, you press into him with equal force, desperately clawing to have him closer and swallowing his gasp when your tongue slips past the seam of his lips. Despite the heavy taste of liquor on his tongue, Chanyeol finds this rejuvenating, finally, he has you, fist bunching into the fabric of your shirt as he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth. He turns into something fierce, addicted to your taste and your touch when your fingers toy with the tips of his ears before raking through his hair and, suddenly, you feel as if you have lost the upper hand.

The hand cupping your jaw drops, trailing dangerously down the side of your thigh before wrapping around your knee to hike your leg around his hip. It is when he presses into you, growing erection doing nothing against the thick fabric of your skirt but still alarmingly there does the steadfastness of your plan falter, the idea of bunching your skirt up to your waist and letting him fuck you right there at the top of the staircase seeming all too tempting.

When he moves to press a sloppy kiss below your jaw, then on the other side of your neck, it buys you enough time to gather your thoughts. Because even though the nip of his teeth and the warmth of his tongue against your skin has wetness pooling between your thighs, it is not nearly as distracting as his mouth on yours. “Chanyeol,” you gasp still, fingers digging into his arms to ground yourself. He merely hums in reply, kissing his way down the column of your throat as he gives your right breast a firm squeeze. Your head thuds against the wall the farther you tilt back, granting him more access and breathing coming in sporadic bursts. It takes quite the strength, but, with the mental image of what’s to come once you actually make it inside encouraging you to do so, you gently push him back at last.

First, worry flashes across his face, suddenly fearing that he has somehow hurt you. But when the side of your mouth ever so slightly tips upward and you step around him to advance further down the hall, there is a mixture of betrayal and frustration flaring in his veins but overpowering desire, too, because he simply loves this game you’ve decided to play.

Racing to unlock your apartment before he can catch up, you excitedly jam the key into the knob just as Chanyeol has reached you, arms circling your waist to spin you around. “You’re driving me crazy,” he groans, guiding you into the apartment and kicking the door closed behind him. As soon as it clicks shut he is back on you, forcing you against the wall because he knows you like it that way, knows you like it rough and knows you like his manhandling. “Yeah?” You ask, though it comes out more like a hiss when he continues his assault on your neck like he never stopped, further bruising the delicate skin there and causing your heart rate to steadily pick up. “How so?”

Ignoring your innocent inquiry, Chanyeol returns to your mouth, tongue battling against your own as he pulls you flush against him, sandwiched between his sturdy chest and the wall. His other hand travels delicately beneath the hem of your shirt, palm burning impossibly warmer against the heat of your skin and it isn’t until he brushes the underwire of your bra does he pull back, satisfied with the way your lips swell. Then, leaning close so his breath fans over your ear, he whispers, “You’ve been rather naughty all night.”

You don’t tremble like he expects you to. You don’t stare back at him with wide, hungry eyes like he expects you to. In fact, you don’t react at all like he expects you to. Instead, you seem to snap out of your lustful daze, eyeing him with a rise of your brow and the straightening of your posture.

“I’ve been naughty?” You scoff, finger jabbing into his chest and, from the total one-eighty in your demeanor alone, Chanyeol stumbles back. “I think you’re mixed up.” Like a puppy desperate for your affection, he cautiously follows you out of the foyer and into the living room.

“I don’t think I was the one who offered to fuck you in front of all your family, or had my hand down your pants during dinner, now, was I?” You sneer at him, struggling to walk to the bedroom while simultaneously zipping down and kicking off your boots. “I—”

Chanyeol begins, taking a hesitant step after you. Beyond the harshness of your words, he knows this is all part of your game, and it’s turning him on more than he’d like to admit, especially when you won’t let him touch you. “No,” you cut him off, standing in the doorway and watching with a stifled smile as he slowly edges closer, “you, sir, need to drink some water before coming any closer. Sober up, think about what you did tonight, and maybe I’ll consider forgetting it happened.” “___,” Chanyeol whines and you almost expect him to stomp his feet like a child, “you’re killing me.”

“Good. Now you know how I’ve felt all night,” flicking the light on, you set your boots down by the closet and keep your eyes trained on him, assuring he stays put, “go on, then. Don’t look so sad, water’s in the kitchen. I need to wash up.” And with that, you retreat into the bathroom, locking the door behind you and trying to erase Chanyeol’s pout from your mind.

In all seriousness— you really do want to wash your face. The thought of having to get up later or even falling asleep with makeup on makes you shudder, and so, you take your grand old time treating your skin, just to make him suffer awhile longer. As you are scrubbing your face over the sink, you hear Toben bark, followed by the soft clinking of his leash. Seconds later, the front door opens and slams closed.

Good, you think, feeling triumphant. Patting your face dry with a towel, you give yourself a once over before swiping a cotton round wet with toner over your skin, simultaneously trying to calm your nerves while also conjuring up what is to come.

God, he really has had you riled up since his first words in his parent’s kitchen, you realize with a cringe as you quickly undress, tossing your clothes into the hamper. Slipping into your simple bathrobe, you turn the overhead lights off in favor of the much softer bedside lamp before flopping belly side down on your bed. Instantaneously, images of Chanyeol flash into your mind, first, simply how godly he looked tonight, tall and lean and yours, then, the look in his eyes when he whispered about fucking you in the kitchen, and later, the teasing drag of his fingers against your panties. All of a sudden, you feel inflamed with desire, clenching around nothing at the thought of such long fingers burying inside of you.

Breathless, you reach for your phone, desperate for a distraction. Seoyun, you remember, clicking on her text from earlier confirming she was home. Sending a few hearts back, you have just opened Instagram and liked a studio picture from Jongdae when the front door opens, Toben’s yapping signaling for a new swarm of butterflies in your gut. Outside of the bedroom walls, you hear Chanyeol’s shoes clunk against the wall as he chucks them off, Toben’s leash unhooking, the living room lights being flicked off. Then, the steady footsteps as he nears your room.

“Can I come in?” He asks from the doorway, the rumble of his voice making a home in your heart.

Chuckling, you turn to look over your shoulder at him. “Yes.”

Stretching to plug your phone in on the table, you realize he’s still playing it careful, managing to only close the door behind him and set a bottle of water on the dresser. “Come here,” you invite at his lack of an advance. He seems startled, an internal battle raging in his heart as he wants nothing more than to jump into bed beside you, but also fears that you will string him along once more. So, he approaches slowly, choosing to sit by the foot of the bed and refusing to look at you, instead leaning over to yank his socks off.

Suppressing a grumble of protest at his distance, you struggle to sit back on your haunches, fingers moving to quickly untie the front of your robe. Chanyeol visibly relaxes as you make your way over, scooting further back to allow more space when you swing one leg across his lap in order to settle on his thighs. His Adam’s apple bops seeing you are totally bare, robe just barely covering your breasts. Avoiding eye contact just yet, you lean forward, pressing a delicate kiss below his ear and humming in appreciation when he tilts his head for you.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper after having your own turn of marking his soft skin, palms sliding over his chest to push his jacket from his shoulders, no matter how alluring he looks in it. “To be completely honest, I really just wanted to wash my face.” Furrowing your eyebrows in concentration, you make slow work at the buttons of his shirt next. “And,” you add, lowering the volume of your voice as if telling a secret only he’s allowed to hear, “I wasn’t in the mood for drunk sex. I’ve been wet for you since four o’clock. I wanted to savor tonight, yeah?”

Once you’ve popped the last button open, pushed the soft fabric from his shoulders and littered his exposed skin with soft kisses, you finally lift your gaze to his face, heart nearly stopping beneath the darkening of his stare. Just like that, Chanyeol sees it as his cue to take over, pouncing like a cat on its prey, opening your mouth with his own and bringing you closer with a firm grip on your ass. “I should have just fucked you when I had the chance,” he practically growls, pulling his arms out from his shirt and jacket and pushing the robe from your shoulders, hands cold from being outside and summoning goosebumps to rise along your skin.

One such hand slides up your spine before wrapping around your nape to tilt you back, body curved to give him room to duck down and kiss along your collarbones, sucking harshly at your skin to assure deep purple marks by morning before enveloping a nipple between his teeth. “Ah,” you hiss, nails digging crescents into his arms as you grind down on him, “I wouldn’t have been able to look your parents in the eyes if you did,” then, choking on a moan as he rolls your other hardened bud between his calloused fingers, “plus, I still would have been thinking about your fingers all night.”

Chanyeol groans, releasing your nipple with a soft pop. “My fingers, huh? What about them?” He hums with faux innocence, securing a grip on your thighs before flipping you onto your back in order to hover above you. He doesn’t let you reply, however, latching his lips to yours and quite literally sucking all the air from your lungs with the way his tongue wraps around your own. “Yes,” you huff when he pulls back, fingers threading through pink hair and hips rising to brush against his when he begins his journey downward, “thinking about them stuffed inside me and— and then,” you stutter, back arching as he kisses his way straight down the column of your throat, the valley between your breasts, the swell of your stomach, simply sucking at the same marks he made yesterday, “and then, your dick.”

“See,” Chanyeol mutters with a click of his tongue, hooking his fingers around the waistband of your underwear and shimmying them down your legs, “I know how dirty you are.”

“Yes,” you whimper, spreading your legs for him as he throws one over his shoulder, “you make my life really difficult like that.”

“I know, baby,” he hums, then, watching with a smirk as you jolt with him blowing cool air directly to your clit, “I always make it up to you, though.”

There simply is not enough time to think of a reply before Chanyeol has his mouth directly where you need him, flattening his tongue against your slit and licking upward, drawing a wanton moan deep from your throat. Relief, finally. Any witty reply quickly wiped from your brain, all you can focus on now is the warmth and wetness of his tongue, circling your clit before dipping between your folds.

“Chanyeol,” you rasp, one hand anchored into the comforter and the other clutching his hair to contain the way you quiver, “please.”

He hums, the vibration strumming right against you and winching the knot forming in your abdomen impossibly tighter. “Please what?”

“Fingers,” is all you manage to get out, seeing stars with the way he sucks at your clit. He wastes no time contemplating your helpless gasp, immediately shifting his position in order to grant such a wish. In fact, he wastes no time easing into things, either, pushing two fingers into your seeping cunt without so much as a warning. It tears a shaky moan from you, nerves aflame with the new but oh so welcome intrusion.

“Christ, ___,” Chanyeol hisses, immediately adding a third finger and pausing to watch his digits sink in to the knuckles, “your tight little cunt is practically sucking me in.” A shaking and gasping mess, all you can offer is a breathless yes, walls clenching in need of more friction. Sensing this, Chanyeol gets right back to work, hand rocking against you, fingers dragging in and out, rubbing upward and against that hidden gem of a spot. “Oh, God,” you keen, thighs reflexively squeezing the sides of his head when he swirls his tongue over your clit in all sorts of shapeless patterns before tightly sucking at it once more.

“That’s it, baby,” Chanyeol soothes as he forces your legs apart, eyes glued on the mess he’s made, juices smeared even at your thighs with the way his fingers curl into you before nearly pulling out entirely. “So greedy.”

“Chanyeol,” you whine, hips raising to follow the movements of his tongue when he returns to your clit, “so close.”

“Mhm,” he groans against you, insistently flicking at the bundle of nerves and adding his pinky finger to the stretch. Chanyeol relishes in the way you practically swell beneath him, nails scratching against his scalp at the addition and the way he scissors his fingers. It is with one last upward curl and draw of your clit between his lips does your orgasm hit you, an intense wave of heat that has you arching into him and red speckling your vision— even though your eyes are screwed shut. It takes several moments to come down from the high, core throbbing in the aftermath and nerves seemingly frayed at the force of it all.

And yet, he has not stopped.

“Chanyeol,” you gasp, voice taut as a result of your previous silent scream, “f-fuck. Christ, I can’t.”

Chanyeol only hums in reply, a mere dismissal as he knows you can handle it and is more than happy to continue. Pulling his fingers from your soaking cunt with a lewd squelch, he grasps your thighs and spreads them further, lapping hungrily at the messy aftermath of your orgasm. Ignoring the way your body shakes and the powerless mewls escaping your lips, Chanyeol continues right where he left off, this time, however, with his tongue stroking gently between your folds and his thumb drawing soft circles over the hood of your clit.

Given no time to settle, the inferno blazing within you quickly roars back to life once the near-painful sensitivity fades, leaving you subject to the overpowering pleasure pumping through your veins. “God, Chanyeol,” you whine, loosening your grasp on his hair once you realize the iron grip you were holding for the entirety of your climax, “f-fuck, you’re killing me.”

Smiling against you, Chanyeol begins to feel impatient, the restriction on his erection borderline painful. This being said, he picks up his tempo once more, one hand keeping your hips down while the other spreads open your folds, giving him unhindered accuracy to press his tongue against your clit, draw circles, triangles, figure-eights— before you’re coming undone in no time.

Biting your bottom lip to taper the near scream that threatens to tear from your throat, you have no choice with the way Chanyeol holds you down but to fall face-first into your climax, tumbling over the edge at an alarmingly fast rate. Your second orgasm comes much easier and much quicker, body still recovering from the first, and it leaves you simultaneously jerking away but locking him in. Chanyeol is just that good.

It almost feels as if you are floating through clouds as you come back to reality and part of you wonders if that orgasm lasted a few seconds or an hour. You can’t tell. But coming back down brings an onslaught of sensations; first, the complete and total mess in between your legs, the result of two orgasms sticking to your thighs like syrup. Second, the soothing massage Chanyeol rubs into your thighs and hips, fingers digging deep into your muscle and aiding in your return from Heaven, you think.

And third: Chanyeol still has his pants on.

“How are you?” He asks, lips curled into a smirk because he knows how good it was, but likes the validation. When all you offer is a small noise of protest, Chanyeol understands this to be your wordless way of asking him to come up, and he does so immediately. “I think I just saw God,” you say once he’s settled on his side next to you, cringing at the coarseness of your voice. With a dreamy sigh you smooth over his pectoral, the dip of his collarbone, the protruding tendon on his neck, before cradling his jaw and leaning over to press your lips to his.

Slow to start, you take ample time simply to savor him, the taste of you, and to show your appreciation for not one, but two orgasms. A renewed sense of urgency, however, appears to take over, and you suck in a heavy breath through your nose when Chanyeol pushes himself to hover above you, hand wrapping around your knee to throw your leg over his hip. Palms deserting their spot beneath his ears, you quickly make work to the button of his pants.

“Goddammit,” you hiss after several unsuccessful attempts, growing just as impatient as he and pulling back to focus on such button, then the zipper, “I hate buttons.” Laughing, Chanyeol leans up to tug his pants and boxers down his thighs, cock springing free against the toned panes of his stomach. “I can tell. Patience is a virtue, you know?” He teases, settling more comfortably between your spread legs and kicking the last of his clothes to the floor.

“Don’t you dare try talking to me about virtue when all I can think about is you rearranging my guts,” you grumble, eyes screwing shut and missing the way his eyes darken when he presses the head of his cock against your clit. “Purity is a virtue, too,” Chanyeol continues to tease, finally angling to your entrance and just barely pressing in, “I don’t think God would be too happy with that mouth of yours.”

“Please shut the fuck up and— ohh, shit,” before you can finish your sentence, Chanyeol has finally rolled forward, dragging past your walls and filling you to the brim in one flawless push. Then, once you have adjusted to the forever startling swell of his cock within you, “We can go to confession after you’ve fucked me.”

Chanyeol lets out a noise somewhere in between an amused snort and a groan, mind effectively having already gone off the deep end and focusing on the tightness of your slick cunt and that alone. “God, ___,” he hisses, drawing back to leave only a lonely inch within you before thrusting forward again, drawing a series of moans from your lips, “never get enough of your tight little pussy.”

“Uh-huh,” is all you manage, struggling to soundly wrap your legs around him with all your muscles reduced to jelly with him filling you so deliciously with every thrust. With the fire in your stomach roaring to life and consuming you whole once more, you will yourself not to come so soon, attempting to open your eyes after several futile blinks and focus on him. Perhaps this is not the best thing to do, however, considering the image of him glowing with a sheen of sweat, eyebrows furrowed, face flushed and hooded eyes boring holes into you only prompts you to tighten around him and ‘squeaking noises’ he always likes to tease you about to slip past your lips.

“God,” you whine, leaning up and placing a desperate kiss to his top lip but flopping back down at the uncomfortable angle, “God, I love you.” Chanyeol visibly softens at this, the sharp snapping in and out of you slowing into deeper, more languid strokes. “I love you more,” he sighs, brushing away hair that has stuck to your sticky skin before kissing you properly. There’s something different about this kiss— for you, at least. Perhaps it has to do with all the talk and sentiment of the night, but a feeling beyond your every day, established love seems to wash over you.

It leaves you gasping and licking into his mouth, desperately trying to cling to the feeling, to put a word to it until finally, you realize, it’s always been here and will forever stay. It seems to resonate in your core, not physically but in your soul, something beyond logic and more of an opening of a door to tranquil waters. It leaves you lightheaded, the staccato of his heart pressed against your skin and the connection of your bodies the only things keeping you grounded because this feeling, this overwhelming, beautiful feeling makes it seem as if you are the center of the universe, just as Chanyeol is the center of yours.

“I’m close,” he hisses, two simple words breaking into your satori and hurling you back into the euphoria that fizzes up your spine and fills your bones. “Me too,” you gasp, breathless from the loaded emotion heavy on your mind and your heart and the quickening of his cock, brushing at the deepest part within at every stroke. It has your head falling back, eyes rolling and back arching when you squeeze around him, muscles contracting with such overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins like electric waves.

“I love you,” you repeat when you fall into your third orgasm, eyes squeezing shut despite your best efforts at keeping them open in order to watch as Chanyeol, too, reaches his high and comes into you with a harsh stutter and load groan. It simply is so powerful you practically feel as if you have just been brought back from the dead, body bucking beneath him like a whip as the toe-curling feeling explodes within you like a firework show. Chanyeol seems to share in such experience, usually not the most vocal but he can’t seem to keep to labored breathing, biting into your shoulder as his seed comes in hot spurts inside of you. You say it every time, but this, truthfully, was the best orgasm of your life.

It takes several moments, minutes, even, to come down from your highs, bodies seemingly in overdrive with such a feeling warming you from your head to your toes. But, just as all good things come to an end, you eventually force your eyes open once you’ve gotten over feeling as if you might pop, blinking past the tears that at some point accumulated. Chanyeol has his forehead rested against your shoulder, heavy inhales and exhales slowly calming as his heart, too, returns to its normal beat. It isn’t until you raise a weak hand to stroke his hair does he tilt his head to look at you, eyes shining like stars with the tired smile he gives you.

Brushing mused pink bangs from his eyes, you crane your neck to kiss his forehead, his nose, and finally his lips before letting your head fall back with a sigh. He returns your affection with a gentle kiss to your shoulder, shakily leaning up to pull his now flaccid cock out of your raw cunt. He’s quick to move, however, fingers coming to press against your folds as if to plug any of his cum from leaking out. You twitch, still way too sensitive and you mentally cringe at the thought of going again— to be frank, you’re pooped.

Still, you lie there quietly, body cooling down as Chanyeol continues to stare as if daring your cunt to let any of his seed slip. After a few more silent moments of this, however, you force yourself to lean up, knowing if you stay like that for any longer, you’d be asleep in minutes. Chanyeol lets out a quiet grunt of protest as such movement causes the smallest gush, fingers swiping against your folds to collect your mixed cum before pushing it back in with the gentlest touch. You sigh at the feeling, clutching at his arm and suddenly, a part of you wishes you weren’t on birth control.

“I felt you,” Chanyeol finally says, voice tight as if he hasn’t used it in years. Such an ambiguous statement, but fortunately, you know what he means without needing him to explain it. You only nod at first, searching his face and finding only the utmost truth. With a gentle hand tracing his jaw, you move in closer to press a soft kiss to his lips before curling into his side. “And I felt you.”

Chanyeol thinks he would look ‘strikingly handsome’ with pink hair, wearing his blue contacts and his baby blue tie.

You think he would look just as handsome as a brunette, without the contacts, and a matching grey bow tie.

Chanyeol thinks you’re lame and just petty because you wouldn’t be able to tie his tie when he gets dressed.

However, with blonde hair slicked back, just his prescription contacts, and baby blue tie, he also happens to think you are strikingly beautiful walking up the aisle. So much so, by the time you are there in front of him, he already has tears streaming down his face.

With your hands in his, you think this kind of love lasts forever.

[shyneanon]

hi there!! since christmas is coming near (although there's the danger of virus) how about you create UT Sans and an alone on christmas reader? (sorry my english is badXD)

I’m a little late on this but I’ve been wanting to write it ever since I saw it! I just got other stuff in life, y’know? But here it is! It was fun :3

Also, your English is great! Especially considering how difficult English is to learn e_e

---

You set your phone aside after your unpleasant call to your family. You wanted to be with them for Christmas, but… there was drama going on between some of them, and your call had just confirmed it was getting brought up between family members when everyone was supposed to be having a good time. You were glad you’d decided not to fly all the way over there. You didn’t need to be in the middle of others arguing. Not on Christmas.

That said, the alternative wasn’t much better. Now, on Christmas Eve, you were basically alone. The tiny tree in your apartment had some lights on it, but besides that there wasn’t much up for decoration. You were just sitting by yourself, in your apartment, eating peppermint bark and half paying attention to a dumb Hallmark movie playing on your TV. Depressing.

As much as you didn’t want to be a bother to anyone, you decided to message Sans. The guy was probably with friends— a lot of people liked him, and for good reason— but he was relaxed, so he probably wouldn’t find it annoying.

You: Hey, tell Papyrus Merry Christmas for me.

Well, that had… barely made you feel a little better. You sighed, lying back down on your bed.

Your phone buzzed.

Sans: will do.

Hey, it was something.

Another buzz.

Sans: you’re out of town, right? with your fam?

You grimaced. For a moment you considered lying, and then immediately felt horrible for it. He was your friend— your best friend. He’d always been here for you when you needed him. And he was funny. And he made you feel comfortable… You liked him a lot.

Platonically. It wasn’t that you had a crush on him or anything.

There was no reason to lie. He wouldn’t judge you for being alone. So instead you turned it into a joke. You took a photo of yourself eating peppermint bark, with the TV in the background, and captioned it

You: I’m with meeeee.

Just looking at your own message made you feel a little less bad about it. Using humor as a coping mechanism. Now where have I seen that before?

“Hey kiddo.”

You jumped at the voice and then sat up. Sans was standing in the middle of your room. “Uh, hey.” You raised an eyebrow and smiled. “You just… teleported in here without asking, huh?”

“You showed me a photo.”

“I could’ve not been wearing any pants,” you said playfully. Sans’ face turned blue and that got your face to heat up. You hadn’t intended to embarrass him. Deciding to change the subject, you nodded at his sweater with a grin. “Love the sweater.”

It was hideous in the best way, and it had clearly been made for him because it was decorated with skull patterns where snowflake patterns would be, as well as a couple of depictions of himself and his brother.

“Thanks,” he said. “A good friend made it for me.”

Your smile faltered. “I don’t want to take you away from your friends. Don’t worry about me or anything.”

“You’re my friend too,” he argued, and you smiled.

“Thanks.”

“Besides, I knew it was gonna be depressing, but…” He sat down next to you, close enough that your shoulders were touching, and looked around. “... this is really depressing.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He gave you a wink, and you grinned. He could cheer you up so fast. It was like magic.

“Whatcha watchin’?” he asked, gesturing to the TV screen, where a man and a woman dressed in winter clothes were talking on a snowy street.

“I don’t even know,” you said. “I got bored and turned it on. It’s some kind of romance.”

“I didn’t know you were a sucker for romance.”

Your face got hot. “I’m not, I was just too lazy to look for something else.” You nudged him. “I’m pretty sure the twist is he’s a ghost and at the end he’s gonna leave but he’s taught her a positive lesson.”

“That sounds sad to me.”

“I think it’s supposed to be bittersweet,” you said, and then snorted when you noticed the couple were now standing underneath some mistletoe. “Oh geez, it’s so contrived. Of course with the mistletoe.”

“What, you don’t like it?” For some reason, he sounded genuinely concerned. As if there would be something wrong if you didn’t.

“Not that. It’s just implausible. Who even does that anymore? I’ve never seen mistletoe anywhere before. In public or in someone’s home.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“There’s some in your house.”

Confused, you turned to look at him only to find that he was dangling some mistletoe between the both of you. His face was blue.

“Uh oh,” he said with a shrug, his blush darkening. He was avoiding eye contact. “Looks like we’re… gonna have to…”

He glanced at you shyly and you felt your face get very hot very fast. Despite the sudden rush of… definitely platonic feelings… you were having, your head was clear enough for you to realize something. “Sans… did you bring that mistletoe here? In… your pocket?”

“... M… Maybe.” Your lack of immediate response seemed to have made him nervous. “But… I mean it’s not like we literally have to—“

“N… no,” you said, “it’s OK. I, um, want to.”

He made eye contact with you, looking surprised, and you both blushed.

He coughed. “S… sure, yeah. OK.”

You swallowed as he started to lean closer to you. Was… was this actually happening? Were you going to kiss? Or had you fallen asleep? Maybe this was some kind of dream….

Well, it wasn’t a bad dream, so… you leaned towards him, trying to ignore how fast your heart was racing.

It was pretty much impossible to ignore once your lips and his teeth made contact. It was like a jolt of very high-voltage electricity. You immediately leaned into it, and Sans responded by doing the same. Before you even knew what was happening your arms were around his neck and his were around your waist, pulling you closer. The movie and mistletoe were quickly forgotten. After several more kisses you both relaxed, still holding onto each other.

“Wow,” you said.

His face was a deep blue. “Y… yeah, wow.”

You both looked each other in the eyes, any hesitation you’d had in making eye contact gone.

“... Do you think… we could maybe do that again?”

You didn’t say anything, just kissed him again. The adrenaline felt incredible…. You could stay like this forever. He must have been thinking the same thing, because it took a lot longer for the two of you to finish this time. His hands felt your sides and you curled up into him, kissing along where his jawline would be. Both of you made soft sighing and humming sounds.

“You decide to kiss me when I’m a mess?” you asked him in between kisses.

“You’re not a mess,” he replied, “you look amazing.”

“No I don’t.”

“You always do,” he said, lying down and pulling you with him. You snuggled into him.

“How long?” you asked quietly.

“... A while,” he confessed, wrapping his arms around you.

“... Same.” You could’ve said something too but you’d just been in denial the whole time. Like a child. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Took me long enough.”

Some silence. You were fine with that. The two of you just… lay like that, for a while. He was so soft, and warm, despite being only made of bones. You were just happy that he was here. With you. Like this.

Eventually, you realized he must have been here a while. “Y… you should… probably go now, huh?”

“Nah, I’ll stay here tonight. And you can join us all in the morning.” He winked. “All this has made me sleepy.”

You giggled, and his smile widened. “Dork.”

He pulled you closer. “I could really go for a nap right now. Like always.” He ran his fingers through your hair. “Care to join?”

You smiled softly and kissed him one more time before laying your head on his chest.

Best Christmas ever.

[novanekoma]

never mine

part 1 to this series is here!

☼ never mine

☼ tetsuro kuroo x fem!reader

☼ song: August by Taylor Swift

☼ summary:  When she finally had him, it was everything she could have dreamed of. Until she realized, he was never really hers to begin with.

☼ status: ongoing

☼ genre: angst, teenage love

☼ warnings:  cheating, cursing, some slight suggestive themes

☼ word count: 2.1k

☼ disclaimer: haikyuu, the music and any other assets used in this fic, DO NOT belong to me, all credit goes to their respective owners

☼ A/N: I’ve been feeling pretty angsty today, and this is what came of it! There is a part 3 from the reader’s side of things coming! I’m also working on a Bakugou (smut) fic that should be out sometime soon as well!

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

“All I wanted was him, to be with him, to be his.”

“I fooled myself, thinking I just needed to get him away from her.”

“But once I had him, I quickly realized he would never truly be mine.”

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

Salt air And the rust on your door I never needed anything more Whispers Of "Are you sure?" "Never have I ever before"

           She never wanted to be the other woman, she never wanted to be the one to steal someone else’s love. But as Kuroo kissed her in the back of his car, fingers tangling into her hair, she found she didn’t care so much anymore. All she could feel was euphoria as her fingers wrapped around his neck, pressing herself closer, bodies tangling as she allowed herself to get lost in his intoxicating taste, into everything she had ever wanted.

           Of course you were in the back of her mind, when all this started she knew who you were, she knew who you were to him, but as she fell deeper, the more she didn’t care. For a short period of time, she got to call him hers, she had a little piece of the man who always had her heart. She craved those late summer nights, where it was just the two of them, her and Kuroo, dancing in the moonlight and kissing under the stars.

           Honestly, she really didn’t remember how any of this started. Summer was approaching and she fully intended on keeping her feelings to herself, maybe finding someone new to get over him. But then, she heard you two had gotten into a fight and there he was, walking home one night without you and without Kenma.

           The rest was history.

But I can see us Lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time 'Cause it was never mine And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away Like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine

           This summer had been the best one, right before their third year. You had gone away for the last month of summer to visit some family back in Miyagi, and she had heard the rumours, she knew you and Kuroo were still together, you still got to call him yours, and he you, but she also heard that you were taking a break during this final month apart. Taking a break, she had scoffed when she heard that, you may as well have broken up. And when she saw him standing alone, vulnerable, and walking down that cobblestone street, she took a leap of faith.  

Your back Beneath the sun Wishing I could write my name on it Will you call when you're back at school? I remember thinking I had you

           Lazy days in the park were her favourite. She would pack a lunch and a blanket and Kuroo would find the perfect spot away from prying eyes and they would lay together in the afternoon sun. Never usually talking, and she was oblivious to the faraway look in his eyes, after all she was the one who sat between his legs, laying against his chest, his arms were wrapped around her waist, as she listened to his heartbeat. His attention was on her, wasn’t it? What more could she ask for? She was the one stealing kisses from him and entwining their fingers whenever she had the chance.

In this moment, he was hers.

“Kuroo?”

Hazel eyes turned from looking at the horizon and towards her instead, she moved to straddle his waist, arms moving to wrap around his neck and tangle into the familiar bed headed mess of black hair. A light hum of acknowledgement came from him, she ignored the hesitant way his arms wrapped around her, focusing only on the warmth it was providing her.

“Are you happy?” she would ask, fingers playing with the locks tangled in her fingers. Her eyes bore into his, studying his face, every movement, how his lips turned into a small smile, hazel eyes only briefly meeting hers before tugging her closer, lips pressing against hers as she smiled into his kisses, her question always completely forgotten as she lost herself in Kuroo.

But I can see us Lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time 'Cause it was never mine And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away Like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine

           The last time she and Kuroo were together, they were laying in her bed. She was in her usual place on his chest as a movie played in the background on her laptop. His hand lay on his chest, with hers perched on top. Fingers almost intertwined, and she was content. Lost in her thoughts of the coming year, of more moments spent together like this, she ignored the little voice in the back of her head, ignoring the way Kuroo took his hand out from hers and placed it behind his head.

           She rolled on top of him, hands cupping his cheeks as she brought him in for another kiss. Feeling the euphoria she always felt when she touched him, feelings his lips move against hers, the small sigh that escaped him when she shifted on top of him for better access. Her tongue running against his lips, asking for more access, she wanted more of him, as much as she could get her hands on. She wouldn’t let him slip through her fingers.

As August bled into September, she should have known it was too good to be true.

Back when we were still changing for the better Wanting was enough For me, it was enough To live for the hope of it all Cancel plans just in case you'd call And say "Meet me behind the mall" So much for summer love, and saying "Us" 'Cause you weren't mine to lose You weren't mine to lose No

           “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

           An answering sigh was all she gave as her friend glared through the phone screen.

            “I have him right where I want him,” she replied, her friend let out an irritated tsk.

            “Has he called yet?”

            Her silence spoke volumes.

            “Come on, you’ve been cancelling on me for days now, and he still hasn’t called you.”

            She didn’t answer right away, swiping from facetime so she could check her messages, a small frown tugging on her features when she pressed on Kuroo’s conversation and didn’t see any new messages.

            “See,” her friend grumbled when she came back to facetime, “This isn’t healthy.”

            “It’s the first week of school, he’s busy with prep, we’re third years now,” she said, it sounded like a plausible excuse.

            Her friend sighed, green eyes studying, “You know, y/n is coming back this week too. I heard from Inari.”

            She sucked in a sharp breath, of course you would be coming back, you were a third year as well. She heard you had been tangled up with something back in Miyagi and would be coming back a few days after the semester started.

            Narrowed eyes studied her, “Does y/n know?”

           “He’s mine, there’s nothing she needs to concern herself with.” Her tone lacked the confidence of her words.

           Another frustrated sigh from her friend, “You do know they didn’t actually break up.”

           The hope she had building in her chest was still strong, “They will,” she said confidently, continuing to ignore the little doubt that was bubbling in the pit of her stomach, she knew that whether or not Kuroo was texting her, he was still hers, and it wouldn’t be her heart that was broken.

           Right?

But I can see us Lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time 'Cause it was never mine And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away Like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine, mine

           She should have known better, the minute you came back it was truly over.

           She watched as you walked the hallways with your friends, she still hadn’t seen you and Kuroo together, and there was nothing flittering around the rumour mill. But she knew that wasn’t something that would last, your friend, Inari, would glare every time she saw her, immediately steering you in another direction.

           She knew. Of course she knew, everyone did, and it wouldn’t be too long until you did too.

           She saw Kuroo around the hallways as well, hazel eyes never quite catching hers as he walked by. Her heart constricted as she watched him, his eyes were glued to your back, always finding your form no matter how far apart the two of you were. His face would flush whenever he saw you, a forlorn look in his eyes as a smile would always tug on his features.

           He looked at you like you were the world.

           She supposed though, that to him, that’s exactly what you were.

           It was never going to be her.

'Cause you were never mine Never mine Do you remember? Remember when I pulled up And said "Get in the car" And then canceled my plans Just in case you'd call Back when I was living for the hope of it all For the hope of it all "Meet me behind the mall"

           It wasn’t until a week later that she heard the news of the breakup.

            Kuroo permanently had this lost puppy look on his expression, and it worsened every time he saw you. And you, well you didn’t look any better. The happy smiles during your first week back were now few and far between and you avoided Kuroo like the plague. She heard you even switched homerooms.

            She also heard from some classmates that you were throwing a party, all third years were invited, and she wondered if that included her and Kuroo. Maybe this was the opening she needed, she and him would be the outcasts, the only ones not invited.

            That was until she got the invite, and the rumour mill spilled that Kuroo received one too.  

           Her heart ached, the party wasn’t for another few weeks, but it was only one week until Kuroo decided to call her.

           “I’m sorry,” his voice was scratchy, like maybe he had been crying. His usual crazy bedhead seemed flat, dark circles were prominent under his eyes and the usual bright and mischief filled eyes were dull, it almost made her want to cry with how hollow they seemed.

           She sighed, “I’m sorry too,” she murmured. At the end of the day, she knew he was in this mess because of her, she also knew that he wasn’t fully blameless, she didn’t force him into anything, but if she had just left well enough alone…

           Then maybe they both wouldn’t be feeling so empty right now.

           “You were vulnerable and I knew that.” She admitted, feeling her heart crack as he nodded in agreement.

           Kuroo sighed, a hand reaching up to scrub at his face, “We both messed up, I should have said no,” he murmured. The apology was clear in his eyes, and she felt her heart shatter even more.

           There was more silence between them and she sighed.

           There was just one thing she needed to know, “Were you happy?”

           A soft sad smile crept onto his features, “As I could be,” he answered, each word was sincere, but she could hear the silent apology. She wished she could feel his arms around her one more time.

           She ended the call, and finally let the tears flow.

           She knew what he meant.

Remember when I pulled up And said "Get in the car" And then canceled my plans Just in case you'd call Back when I was living for the hope of it all (For the hope of it all) For the hope of it all For the hope of it all For the hope of it all For the hope of it all

           The night of the party she watched him walk down the familiar cobblestone towards your house, and the last of her hope finally left her. She watched as you opened the door, your eyes wide and surprised to see him there, there was a beat of silence and she saw Kuroo’s hands clench at his sides. You spoke to someone behind you before ushering Kuroo outside and closing the door behind yourself. It was only when she watched you take his hand and disappear behind the house that she turned around and began to walk home.

           A weight fell on her chest as she blinked away her tears, she knew she needed to come to terms with things before Monday rolled around again, and as memories of moonlight kisses and warm summer nights played through her mind, she knew.

           It was never going to be her.

©novanekoma2020