#im like one of three people who still remembers that nonsense and i will make the rest of you suffer with me
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jericho-goat · 1 year ago
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If I am eternally bound to this realm, this veil, will I stay here until I die? Will I be able to die? Can I still interact w the earth I know? Or can I only interact w what exists in the veil?
"Oh, Jericho. At the risk of sounding overplayed, you are already dead! The Ghost of a baby goat, taken too soon. How you wound up with enough of a vendeta to hang around in the Veil, rather than pass on to Heaven as most dead infants do, I couldn't tell you."
She may not know, but your memories float, half formed, through your consciousness. Jaws and pointed teeth, above all. But something before that lingers.
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A dingy room. An empty stomach. A crowd of hooded figures, chanting Latin, at the periphery of your vision. But, more immediately, a taut, muscular Dog, drooling with anticipation, immediately before you. Only half extant, yet holy and deadly all the same. Your terror, and the sigil on the floor, holding you in place. The command off the master's lips. The Dog lunging towards you. Its teeth round your neck. Death, cold and red. Death, empty and hopeless. Death, hungry.
"Of course..."
The spectral woman snaps you back to the present moment, "one of the main upsides of existing in the Veil is the ability to interact with the Earthly Realm. Heaven and Hell just get to look. If you have the know-how and willpower, you could easily fuck around with humans. Or goats. I don't really know what your deal is.
"But then, you can't just consider what YOU can interact with. You have to consider what can interact with you. A Ghost like you is benign enough to be ignored. But Spirits are volotile, dangerous even. Which is why you want to down this drink, quickly now."
She pushes the drink towards you. Why do you feel a sense of urgency in her voice? It's not just her, you feel a vibration in the air coming from everywhere all at once. Something, you instinctively sense, she couldn't do herself if she tried.
"Any more questions?" she asks.
ANY MORE QUESTIONS?
-
23.09.23 - 007
(Jericho Goat is an interactive webcomic. Send prospective inputs through the ask function of this blog)
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youredreamingofroo · 6 months ago
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Alright for the oc questions, you can choose who each one is for whether it’s Roo or Leo or someone else! But I thought these might be fun to answer!
💍 RING — does your oc have any piercings? do they want any (more) piercings?
🍎 RED APPLE — where was your oc born? do they still live in/around their place of birth or do they live somewhere else? how do they feel about their birthplace?
🤍 WHITE HEART — what are three of your oc's neutral/questionable traits?
AAA DAZEY TY!! Usually I just default to Roo when I do these (if an oc isn't specified), so I'll do Roo AND an extra oc if I can think of an answer for them :))
questions from this post/rb
[ under the cut due to length :) ]
💍 RING — does your oc have any piercings? do they want any (more) piercings? Roo does NOT have piercings! He's too much of a pussy to get piercings LMAO I don't blame him 🫂🫂
Hero, as you can see, has a lot of piercings LMAO (or ~sort of~ see idk), she has 8 piercings, 3 nose piercings, 2 ear piercings, and 3 lip piercings. Hero is currently satisfied with the amount of piercings she has, but if she WERE or WANTED to get another piercing, it would either be dimple piercings or the piercings u get under ur eye (i dont remember the name >:T)
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🍎 RED APPLE — where was your oc born? do they still live in/around their place of birth or do they live somewhere else? how do they feel about their birthplace? Roo was born in Gothenburg, Sweden, but was swiftly moved to Washington, USA, this was around the peak of Virginia's (his mother) depression, so she [Virginia] was VERY prone to making irrational decisions, one of which is moving entire countries... anyways, I digress. Roo, obvs, doesn't live near his birth place anymore, he still resides in WA (where? I have not solidly decided :)), and due to funds, he does not plan to move back anytime soon, but he absolutely LOVESSS his birthplace and Sweden overall c: So unsurprisingly, he really wants to move back to Sweden (esp to see his little sister Deliahna)
Leo was born in Carmarthenshire, Wales, grew up in Carmar., Wales, and around when he was 18-19 years old, he moved to Luverne, Minnesota, sooo obvs, he doesn't live near where he was born LMAO Leo will often scowl and have a bitter taste on his tongue when he hears people talk about Wales, this is mostly due to his mental connection of Wales = His Parents, of whom he wants nothing to do with them :)
(^^ This question took me forever because I had to do research on regional accents and stuff so that I wasn't just spewing nonsense and nothingness for future references ajshjhdskj)
🤍 WHITE HEART — what are three of your oc's neutral/questionable traits?
3 of Roo's Neutral/Questionable traits: His Clinginess/Obsession- I consider this trait a very hit or miss trait, or in this case, questionable, due to the fact that his clinginess/obsessiveness is NOT apparent at first, and upon getting to know him more, his clinginess will show through more, but it becomes questionable when he starts to take interest in someone... he becomes obsessive out of nowhere, and it makes you wonder where on EARTH that came from, but it derives from his clinginess, it's kind of like a pokemon evolution... Attraction -> Clinginess -> Obsession... His silence- Roo tends to be very quiet, that's... that's kind of it LMAO There's really nothing questionable about it, it's just a neutral trait for him His humor- A questionable trait, as he uses humor a lot to cope and avoid answering serious questions (" are you doing okay? " " Who's okay and why am I doing them? " ykyk KDSAJKDAJKD), albeit a very socially acceptable trait, its undeniable that it's still. questionable. especially when the source material is his own trauma-
(^ I was gonna write more for this question but my brain genuinely fried typing this- it makes me so sad that my brain stopped working and I would put posting this off but I reallyyy wanted to answer this so KSJHSJKJ 😭 Im sorry- also hence why there's not a second character..)
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okthatsgreat · 1 year ago
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new opddmh updates..... like. three of them. crazy. haven't been keeping up as well as usual (acting stuff and work tag teaming my free time and absolutely destroying it) but i have finally started to binge and i truly truly love what u r doing w makoto and miu. so different but still connecting on an in-depth level and balancing eachother out ....... sometimes a relationship is an ex-reality show killing game figurehead and the world's worst teenager fresh out of the hospital against the world. do u have any insights on the way u write relationships and connections or just them in specific that come to mind bc oh my god. please do tell
HELLO AGAIN :]!!! AND HAHAHAH THATS ALL GOOD ive been so busy also FINGERS CROSSED IM ABLE TO GET MY UPDATE SCHEDULE ON TRACK LOL
TALKING ABOUT THIS FIC!!! :] big ole ramble down below lol
(i use the word "partner" a lot here but just know i am not referring to strictly romantic relationships lol)
OHHH GOD. relationship writing advice HMM HMMMMM. it really is very complex bc there are SO many different types of relationships that can be written about ghfdgjh so advice definitely varies!!! i think something helpful that i've learned is that unless you are purposefully examining power dynamics it always helps to view both sides as fully realised characters. very very rarely do you want to have a character who is solely there to agree with their second half and have no personality or history outside of this. i see this happen a LOT with romantic pairings but it's also an important note for platonic pairings as well!! ESPECIALLY if the main focus of the story is on this specific pairing-- it shouldnt feel like one person is a human being while the other is a cardboard cutout whose only purpose is to be there for their partner. again there ARE a few exceptions to this and how it is portrayed but its the main rule i like to stick to!! :]
if i feel like ive written a character who is solely there for their partner something immediate i go to is giving both characters something that separates them!! most of the time this includes fleshing out a backstory thats different from their partner, that might influence the way they see things within the narrative. give them a different hobby, maybe a different friend group! give them a different perspective on the events that are unfolding, a different way of coping that might not be beneficial to their partner!! and remember that it is OKAY for them to not agree on everything!!!! do not be frightened into thinking you need every single relationship in your story to be perfect and unproblematic and completely agreeable, especially for longer narratives that call for conflict
OH AND IN REGARDS TO FANFICTION... piece of advice i try to follow is donttttt try to mold characters into entirely different people just so they can stay happy and agreeable with their partner lol. if theres tension theres tension!! if theyre petty then theyre petty!!!!! even if there isnt conflict and youre writing fluff, you dont have to erase their personalities just to fit them together as a happy couple! sometimes the challenge in writing comes from finding what happiness means for that specific character/pairing, and that may be very different from the typical idea of romance/happiness!!
AND NOW ON TO MAKOTO AND MIU first of all. i am so sorry for making you read paragraphs upon paragraphs of me just rambling nonsense at you GHFDKGSH BUT I APPRECIATE IT!!! and second of all this technicallllyyyy is advice i guess but its WAY more specific now!!! lol
anyways when it comes to writing their relationship most of their dynamic is based off of their differences! opddmh miu is brash and loud, and even though she is trying more and more to filter what she says she still speaks before she thinks and grows restless very easily. opddmh makoto on the other hand cant afford to be brash and loud and thinks quite a lot before he says anything, and is lot visibly calmer. so its fun examining how their differences are able to influence the other throughout the fic!!!! miu NEEDED that calming influence considering the state she was in when makoto found her, i quite frankly have no idea where the hell she would be now if makoto hadnt been so patient and understanding ghfdksghkf. makoto on the other hand is a man chained down by responsibility, so much so that his life has become extremely dull in his eyes just because of how repetitive it has started to become. miu is a serious change to this and offers him some kind of purpose while also reminding him of not only how SCARED he was as a teenager first exiting the simulator but also how unrestrained he had been before the years went by. theres a balance there!!!
but at the same time, there ARE some similarities. theyre both a bit paranoid, and even if miu is more willing to be vocal about her distaste theyre both scared of danganronpa as a company. they also both strive for some kind of peace, even if they have different versions of it-- makoto wishes to be unburdened by the weight of responsibility and his Ultimate Hope persona while miu wishes for stability in her relationships with others, even if she just isnt the best at it. its why i like writing small moments such as the two of them just sitting in the car and chatting or the most recent moment where theyre not talking at all but are still comfortable in each others company-- they dont explicitly tell the other that theyre super happy and at peace but they both subconsciously understand :)
OKAY CUTTING MYSELF OFF!!!! GFHDGFDJ THANK YOU SO SO MUCH <33
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lonlonranching · 1 year ago
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accidental ramblings about queerness and my experience in early-adulting
idk wtf happened but i feel like since graduating from undergrad to like a couple of weeks ago i had drastically lost sight of my queerness
like even tho there were a lot of labels i didnt know what to do with in undergrad - i still was on the road to self-discovery (and allowed myself to trek it). i came out as gay question mark queer question mark bisexual question mark NOT STRAIGHT in late hs to close friends (actually, a friend had asked me, and i realized i wasnt as good at hiding as i thought), and then i was very fortunate to go to a college that had a pretty clear queer community (though limited - im pretty sure i never found the spaces with aroace people in them, at least out aroace people- in fact i remember hearing a lot of reductive language about aroace people from those i considered friends. they said shit like aroace people are just repressed. they were just traumatized. they were just inexperienced… its a fake internet sexuality for deeply confused and weird people. yeah, not great, and certainly not safe).
so for me, my personal journey really started during covid - where queerness could be a thing between me and myself, and not the rest of the world to tell me who i was and what that meant to them.
my last semester of undergrad was fall of 2020, which about 6 months prior was when covid shutdowns started happening in the states. i went to a teeeny enough undergrad they let us come back if we abided by all the CDC requirements. i was graduating early, and a lot of my friends either had already graduated, dropped out, or they were out-of-staters who were just gonna continue with the online curriculum in place. also a year before, i had done a study abroad, and when i came back, the world went into shutdown pretty immediately. in total, i think i had 2 friends left and i hadnt seen them in a while.
it was the greatest semester. all i did was hang out with these two people, do nothing, and got to be myself without all those watching, waiting eyes…
with the lack of outside observation (observing isnt evil - unwanted and ignorant commentary however…), i became VERY visibly queer. it just didnt matter! and i felt good about myself! and made a lot of interesting outfit choices lol
but then i graduated, and i got my first real adult job and the road began to fog
i go by a name that isnt, errrrr, conventional. and because im a pretty feminine person, i think it confuses a lot of people when they meet me (as if i have to make sense to anyone but myself). i remember i worked for a really “trendy” and “forward-thinking” non-profit with a LOT of people my age, but the majority still treated me like that deeply confused, weird person i had heard about in college. i remember telling them the name i go by (we were still over zoom, the world still grappling with this global pandemic, seemingly no end in sight as we waited in our homes, in front of our screens, for the world to begin turning), and was met by one of the few moments in my life i could audibly hear crickets. my ears burned, and i looked away from their pixelated faces, and told them they could call me my government name if they preferred. i hear a woman who is a year older than me laugh, and then say: yeah im going to call you that one. it was mortifying. it was humiliating. it reminded me of every single second of my life - that i didnt deserve to be me. that there wasnt any room for that nonsense.
i quit that job only a couple months in - which blew for a multitude of reasons: i had to pass literally three different rounds of interviews, it was my only source of income, and i became incredibly mentally unstable. the latter part mostly caused by the actual work part - i worked for this guy who laughed at poor people, and profited off systemic racism. they shoved me and my bachelors in history in meetings with affluent white cis men who thought themselves titans - they had PhDs in fields that take up a lifetime and youre so high above the clouds the rest of us seem like ants. the way they spoke on people made it clear they didnt see others as complex, feeling beings like themselves. and while i was at these conversations, i was not in them, nor was i welcome either. i tend to feel a little uncomfortable around non-profits now. it seems like a misnomer
so i got a new job, after a couple months of heavy medication trial and error (another eldritch horror story). and ive been at it for a couple years! yay!
i will say its not perfect. and i definitely confuse a few people there, especially since the average age there is 60. and im not sure they know many queer people, especially the “weird, confused” ones like myself. i also dont go by my preferred name because its unfortunately just easier for me to not to. but im making it work! in fact, im showing them im pretty sure of myself. and being weird is actually very endearing!
i think ive had to spend the last couple of years relearning my footing on how to be me. i also had to figure out how to stand up for myself and others. to learn its not a bad thing to keep gentleness cradled in your arms, and show it to other people. if they aren’t interested, it says more about them than you. and hopefully they get back on the road sooner rather than later, trekking onward and earnestly.
but for me, because that is what happens here, maybe the road isnt getting less foggy, but im getting more confident in finding my own way.
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sweetnans · 5 months ago
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When I read that someone tagged me on this, I thought, omg, who am I going to tag on this? I talk to no one, but anyways I'll express myself anyways 🤪 Also, I was tagged in my main, but I only use my side acc to write.
STARTED WRITTING
I started writing on different apps around 2014, mainly in Spanish, my mother tongue. I followed a process that I put myself into right back in the pandemic, I started reading in english at first, and I bought my first book in english in 2020, when I got used to the reading in other language I said; what if I start writing in english too? I was part of the MHA fandom at that time, and I found interesting writing little things about it. It opened a wide world to me.
STARTED BLOGGING
I think I started blogging last year, silly posts about nonsensical things. I started posting about Bakugo last year in my main account, and then I decided I wanted to write about other characters that in the long term didn't work so I made a blog exclusively to Bakugo projects. I transferred the posts about Bakugo to my side account, and that's the story. Now I want to disable the main, but it will erase all my progress. Hehe, just silly girl being impulsive.
FOLLOWERS
Right here, right now, I have 1.1K followers, which is a lot. I still can't believe the numbers because that means that people like what I write and they want to keep tabs on it, which is insane to me. I remember back in 2014, I was active on Twitter, and It took me like a year or so to get to the 1k followers by doing nothing. I know that my 1.1k here is because of me and my work, and I just love each one of you so much.
COMMUNICATIONS
Ok, this is something I have to start working on. I barely talk to anyone here, I don't have friends, and it's just because I haven't tried yet. I exclusively enter here to write but not to integrate myself on the tumblr world, and that's something I want to do genuinely. I really miss having someone to talk to aside from normal life, like the day to day people from work or uni. I do miss having friends online to share interests with.
Ps: I need more mutuals from MHA fandom. I'll follow anyone, really.
LIKES
I'm a sucker for likes, comments, and mentions, like tell me anything of what you're thinking about my writing. Shower me with your opinion. I love it when I wake up and see the +99 notification, and I try to always respond to the comments people leave on my posts.
REQUESTS
I have a few pending requests, and I'm ashamed of it. It's just because I don't have the time to properly focus on them because the few ideas I get in the span of the day I use them to my current fic or to the drafts I have. I want to give you the best, not something mediocre. I really like to put my head and my heart on everything I give to you.
WRITING
I love writing. I'm very proud of myself because of what I pushed me to do (writing in another language). As I said before, It opened a world to me.
About writing style, I struggle a lot on writing on past tense, but it comes naturally to me. I'm working on writing in the present tense because I think I'll be easier, I don't know. I don't like using Y/N because I can't put my name on it, I just read it like /wai. en/ and it bothers me a lot. Im sorry for that, pet names or nicknames will do.
WORKS IM PROUD OF
I never engaged with something as big as a fic until now. I mainly wrote headcanons, some drabbles, and a three parts story that I struggled a lot to finish. I'm proud of all of them. Right now, I'm working on a fic that I think would have at least ten parts, and the main future of it is getting posted on AO3. We'll see about that. A girl can dream. I'll continue posting anything that comes to my mind, I really like making up scenarios. Daydreaming is my favorite hobbie.
@chuugarettes @screechingfangirlaf @the-weeping-author
Behind the scenes of a Tumblr Writer - Tag Game
Hey there, I love behind the scenes and since this is something that's rarely talked about, let me start the chain... if you feel uncomfortable with a question, just skip it. You can add some if you want as well.
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Started writing: I wrote my first Harry Potter fanfic at age 10. Started posting around 15,16 years old. I'm now 31, so...
Started blogging: I started on a German fanfiction site around 2010/11 I think. Might have been earlier too, but back then I was mostly reading, no posting. I really started when I got into One Direction (very late, tbh)
Followers: Currently at 961, which is wild to me. I don't even know that many people IRL. I convince myself that half of them are bots tbh, so I don't freak out all the time.
Communication: The people I talk to regularly are: a few writers who answered after I constantly reblogged and commented on their works and a few people who commented and reblogged my work. Writing and blogging on here can be pretty lonely, depending on your personality and the time you're active (I'm from Europe and a lot of my followers seem to be living in Northern America, so there's the Timezone thing) ... And I found that the best way to strike a conversation is to reblog, comment, and to not be shy. I do wish I got more asks, though....
Likes: I actually filter them out. I have 793 original posts up at the moment. It doesn't give me anything to know how many likes a fic has other than to tell me which characters are liked more than others or maybe that one fic does especially well. My activity only shows me comments, asks, reblogs with tags, and answers to my own asks. I live for the tags and the comments.
Requests: I love talking to people about ideas. That's how I started the plotbunny game because I have so many ideas and so little time. And sometimes an idea just doesn't want to be written out fully. Requests are fun because YAY, I get some mail... but then I freak out because I don't really know how to write this NOW and then I freak out because it's been a week already, two weeks, wait, two months? I'd rather have suggestions where people tell me vague things like "I'd love to read something about this side character" or "Have you ever considered this character with a soulmate trope"? because then I don't have the feeling of failing the request when I write it a little bit differently.
Writing: I am a fast writer. I know that's one of my talents. I can churn out a oneshot of 1k words in less than an hour. People read slower than I write. That can suck sometimes because you've just posted this and you want to know what people are thinking but they're not as fast as you are. I do have a lot of ideas. I want to write constantly but my brain doesn't always want to. I am trying to respect that.
There are also certain things that I just feel wrong writing. I cannot write anything suggestive (I also don't like reading it) and everything past that gives me panic attacks. I can hardly write mean characters and jealousy feels so wrong to me that I cannot write it. I've also overdone it with the soulmark trope and now I feel like everything I write about it feels lifeless.
I write best in the mornings before going to work, but I don't have much time there. I don't need special music (but it helps), but I need to have at least some energy left and at best, no distractions. But I have been writing for over 20 years, so I will say experience helps a lot.
Tagging: @revasserium @shoulmate @lemurzsquad @screamin-abt-haikyuu @toomanygoldfish @satorisoup @emmyrosee @reverie-starlight @alienaiver and @writingsofanomnivore and everyone else who wants to join
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notnctu · 4 years ago
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backseat chronicles - n.jm | ridin’ club
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━ welcome to the ridin’ club smut series
genre ➠ slow burn, smut, fluff, lil angst  wordcount ➠ 8.5k details ➠ fem!reader, streetracer!jaemin, badboy!jaemin, college!au ━ where Jaemin brings you to his club races as his arm candy. warnings ➠ explicit language, overstimulation, flirty banter, pet names, softdom!jaemin, car sex, praise kink, hittin it raw (y/n on the pill), oral, daddy kink, slight corruption kink, fingering synopsis ➠ There is no reasonable explanation as to why or how you always end up in the backseat of Na Jaemin’s beloved car. Almost routinely, he picks you up around ten in the evening with the stereo blasting the raunchiest lyrics for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. The entire night remains purely friendly, a dabble of flirtatious comments because well, it’s Jaemin for fuck sakes. But all it takes is one suggestive gaze from his dark, lustful eyes and a drop in his voice that rumbles your core to have you climbing over the seats to get to the back. taglist ➠ @rabbit-doyochi​​​ ; @darkneogotmyback​​​ ; @im-lame-irl​​​ ; @p-mini​​​ ; @niniluvsmarkhyuck​​​ ; @saniahmichael​​ ; @jaehy9ngs​​​ ; @danyxthirstae01​​​ ; @jaehyunoos​​​ ; @pikijaemin​​​ ; @suhweo​​​ ; @yunoyeol​​​ ; @lanadreamie​​​ ; @ta3ilmoon​​​ ; 
a/n ➠ hi yall its author doie❀!! thank you for over 1k notes on this series, im beyond impressed by the amount of attention this got! it really blew up and its so crazy!! i wrote this one with more of a romantic plotline i realized its too hard to keep it pwp with all the story building and characterization i have :)) it’s almost over yall! pls pls leave me feedback im sorry it took so long to write ):
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While college lecture rooms are too big to interact with other students, discussion classes are there to ease the difficulty. A classroom for about twenty students from a three hundred person lecture. It’s administered by a clueless TA, who barely began his second term in graduate school.
Unlike lecture, attendance is mandatory for participation points. You show up every time without a fail, so it came as a shock to you when a certain blue haired student finally appeared from the list of absent students.
Na Jaemin. The notorious playboy with looks that kill and partakes in some illegal racing club. It’s as if every person in the room fawns over his aura, Jaemin drips with an inexplicable alluring confidence. You didn’t know anything about him besides the fact that he never shows up for class and rumors about how he’s slept with the entire cheer squad.
But he’s drawn to you like a magnet: always sitting in the available spot next to you, asking about your day before the TA arrives, developing an odd staring problem. You don’t feed much into his attention, minding your own business when he starts with his notably flirtatious greeting.
“You just take my breath away, (Y/N).” Jaemin cocks back in his seat with legs stretched wide in an overly comfortable manner. The smug smirk on his face cannot be ignored, he’s doing the absolute most to get you to pay the smallest attention to him.
“I didn’t do anything in particular to do that, Jaemin.” You respond bitterly, pulling out your notes for today’s discussion class. The TA enjoys wasting the first twenty minutes going over the past lecture slides and running through the most obvious topics.
You pay no mind to Jaemin peering over at you with the single handedly most dreamy eyes and smile --- stars shining in his dark orbs and a dazzling twinkle in his wide toothy grin.
“That’s why you’re so amazing. You do nothing and it still leaves me breathless.” His sneaky eyes examine your clothing choice for the long day. On this warm afternoon, the short tank top does nothing to hide much of your skin and the denim shorts that ride up a little too well drive Jaemin insane. And when you cross your legs together, he swallows the spit that pools in the back of his throat.
Your ears catch onto the murmurs of the rest of the class, the midterm is next week. The wretched midterm that is half of your grade dooms you, it is going to take an endless amount of completely undistracted dedicated hours of study--- “On a more serious note, can you help me with this class?”
His voice shatters your inner panic, if anything, adds to the stress that already beats down on your shoulders. You look up to glare at him, but you’re entirely taken aback by the new styling of his hair and the exposure of his tattoos.
The sweet blue cotton candied strands are ruffled lazily above his brows, messy from him constantly running his hand through them. Jaemin sits relaxed in gray sweatpants that are extremely baggy on his slender figure, hands are shoved casually into the pockets.
But what has you staring for longer is the long sleeve of tattoos that wrap around his left arm. Not that you’re surprised that Jaemin has tattoos, let alone a whole sleeve, but this is your first time seeing it as this is the first time he’s come to class without his leather jacket on. Something about the intricate lines and shadowing make Jaemin seem much cooler, almost more attractive.
When you meet his eyes, his lips curl slowly into a sly side smile and he’s practically eating you up under his gaze. He definitely knew that you were staring and what comes next out of his mouth will haunt you for it. “Like what you see, beautiful?”
“I don’t have the time to help you.” The best way out of this situation is to simply ignore it. Jaemin is overly adored and admired by many, he’ll find someone else to help him.
“Jaemin, do you want to study together?” There you go, folks. The random girl snickers with her small huddle of friends in the upper corner of the room, like a crowd of crows, they’re all waiting around for Jaemin to accept her offer so he can be easily integrated into their little group.
However, you watch how his glances bounce between you and her. The most sickly sweet, kind smile is almost too fake to consider it to be genuine. His final choice surprises you, “thank you for offering, but I only want (Y/N)...”
Your breath hitches and gets caught in your throat as you hope for him to finish his sentence, the drumming of your heart distracting you even more. Jaemin wants you? While the thought is flattering, it puzzles you greatly.
“... to help me with my studies.” Jaemin finishes his sentence after a rather long pause, his eyes finally resting upon your figure shying away and finding any way to seem uninterested in the conversation. “Is that going to be okay, (Y/N)?”
“What do I get out of it?” You can’t believe that you are actually considering it. But this is a man that only wants you to help him. Jaemin is an impossible, yet charming man and whatever comfortable attire he is wearing today is really aiding in his request.
He lights up, ears perked up and eyes attentive. His hands fold together on the empty desk, leaning forward towards you. “Dates with me.”
Rolling your eyes, you groan slightly at the arrogant answer. “I don’t care about that. I want something that benefits me.”
“I’ll make sure you’re well fed.” There is a tiny plea in his tone, a remarkable shift from his cool aura. “What do you want? I’ll give it to you.”
“I guess I can’t turn down free food…” there is a hang in your sentence as you contemplate what chaos you’re about to dive into and what life changes are about to be explored with Jaemin.
“Before you agree,” Jaemin chuckles, “there’s one more thing I’d like you to do for me.”
You’re quick to shoot a daggering glare at the overly enthusiastic boy, “why do I suddenly owe you favors?”
“Because I say so.” He deadpans, a chill running down your spine at the deep dip in his octave. The playfulness that was present all this time suddenly vanished, a serious look that intimidates you, but sexy enough to where it erupts something in your core. He blinks at you with dark clouded eyes and you nervously anticipate what he is going to ask next of you.
“Accompany me to my races.” He speaks lowly as if he’s afraid of someone else eavesdropping in the conversation.
Here’s your issue with that request: you’ve never really been part of that scene. You’ve lived pretty mundanely, even in college. It’s simple, you like to stay within the boundaries of what you enjoy to do and what you have to do. But you’re always open minded and willing to try something to determine whether or not you’re fond of it.
Partying and drinking copious amounts of alcohol weren’t your favorite things to do, especially to the point of forgetting your nights. You wanted to remember your nights as much as you do your days. The youth isn’t here for long, why waste them by blacking out in the middle of a large party? Also, whoever said that alcohol goes down smooth is a blatant liar.
Illegal racing could possibly be an extension of people who participate in those things, which is fine, but does place a crippling fear of coming off too boring or unrelatable inside your nervous system. But just because you don’t do those things doesn’t mean that you’re not as cool, right?
Since when was your status based nonsensically on how often you spend your nights in socializing crowds full of sweaty bodies and how much cheap booze you can drink? It had to be all in your head --- you’re just dreading any awkward socializing with people who race cars when it’s absolutely illegal.
“Why me?” It’s a genuine answer, possibly stemming from your insecurities of not being on the same level of charm as Jaemin exudes. You’re not a fool, you’re well aware of the many different people he comes across on campus so, why you?
Jaemin doesn’t hesitate to answer, “why not you? You’re just my type. Hot and smart. Cute and a little shy. The greatest duality, if you ask me.” His words seem so genuine that it has you believing these things about yourself as well.
Nonetheless, you’re taken aback by his observations and his choice of descriptions. “We’ve barely ever talked. How can you say these things so confidently about me?”
Jaemin slightly pulls your chair closer to his own and you yelp in response to the sudden movement and lack of space that separates the two of you. He leans into you, breath hot on your skin and obvious eyes darting between your shocked ones and pretty lips.
“So let’s get to know each other. I can already tell that it’ll just make me fall for you even more.” His finger lightly traces your jaw, stopping at your chin to give it a small lift to meet his focus. Jaemin loves how you squirm underneath his intensity, you’re too cute to let go. “Plus, my boys will love you. I’m sure of it.”
The TA rushes in quickly and is utterly distressed from the traffic that had pushed back his schedule. “Sorry, I’m late everyone.” He rummages through his things to find his notes, but groans to see that the monitor of the computer is off. It’s going to take him another ten minutes to input all his credentials.
But your attention doesn’t stray from Jaemin, especially with his delicate touch at the bottom of your chin. His gentle smile enacts nothing but a soft love, and a peak of interest. Na Jaemin, the one and only. He’s like an adventure waiting to be explored, an open bottle of fun for you to take a sip.
“What would I have to do?” Your voice comes out shaky.
“Just be there as your pretty self.” Jaemin comes off as the type to always have women around him, “you’ll be my lucky charm. For some reason, I always feel better around you.”
The escalation of this conversation is possibly more action you’ve had to handle in the last two years. Jaemin drops your chin and falls back into his own seat with his arms crossed. He is about to turn your life upside down and whether that be a good or bad thing, you don’t mind. You’re excited for the new thrills that come with being by Na Jaemin’s side.
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Jaemin’s hot hands lift your shirt quickly, throwing it towards the front seat of his car. His lips return to your soft neck, nibbling at your skin tenderly and with love bites that will remind you of his gentle touches. The streetlamps outside flicker impatiently as you feel the eagerness soaking your panties and he lifts you up to take them off.
“My sweet girl,” his voice is light and airy that it becomes almost lost in the heat of the car. “You’re excited tonight. Did you miss me?” The devilish smirk can be felt upon your collarbones.
“Yes, I haven’t seen you for almost five days.” A peculiar whine settles in your pout and Jaemin’s low growl sends shivers down your spine. The only barrier are his own tight jeans and your hands are fast at unbuckling his belt. Jaemin relaxes back, forearms resting on your soft thighs and watching the neediness in your expression and the speed of your hands. He smiles to himself seeing you this way, wanting him so badly that you can’t wait to get him out of his jeans.
Throughout the two months that you and Jaemin finally became well acquainted, he’s fallen inexplicably into your trance. His friends made it very clear to you that he doesn’t keep the same girl around for more than a few weeks. But he’s brought you to almost every race so far and despite the initial shock of your appearance after the third time, you didn’t let the passing comments phase you.
Why he hasn’t replaced you is unknown and truthfully, there is no reasonable explanation how you always wind up in the backseat of his car by the end of the night. It’s become part of your routine. Jaemin picks you up around ten in the evening with raunchy lyrics blasting out of his personalized car for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. More often than not, Jaemin has food ready for you to devour and a cozy blanket for your exposed legs.
You’ve learned a bit more about him through your backseat chronicles. Jaemin is possibly one of the only people in your life with a heart bigger than his own body, while also being as carefree as he can. Oddly enough, he cares about you as his friend and as his companion. Not to mention the ridiculous, yet endearing nickname, “Lucky Charm”, that he has coined upon you.
Jaemin has been the best adventure you’ve had in ages. While he takes you on intoxicating thrill rides on the leather of his back seats, every street race has been more than unforgettable. He shares one of the same values as you --- wanting to remember the present. You both know that you’ll remember each other enough for it to transcend into your next lives.
You have him to thank for your youthful experiences, to learn and dive into this new found world of mischief under his care. Jaemin treats you extraordinarily well, he’d never hurt a soul. He showers you in appraisal and carefulness, he’s attentive to your behavior and remembers your favorite things. And he reminds you almost every time you see him that he’s so grateful to have you in his life.
“Have you been touching yourself?” Jaemin’s bold question catches you off guard as it causes your hands to shyly hover over his unzipped jeans. When you glance up at him with soft innocent eyes, as if you’re guilty of a crime and wish to beg for forgiveness, his facial expression is serious and intimidating. 
“Continue, baby. You can be honest with me. Daddy isn’t going to punish you if you did.” His tone is sweet and light, but his eyes are dark and piercing. His lips are drawn tightly into a thin line, no curve in sight.
His finger grazes down your cheek gently as he admires your slightly parted lips and the way your eyelashes dance every time you blink. However, his other hand urges you to continue your previous action of getting him out of his restrictive jeans.
You nod, while rubbing his erection through his gray briefs that hug him so tightly. There’s a sharp intake of breath when you pull the waistband of his underwear down and his cock stands against his lower abdomen. “Do you think of me when you do?” His voice gets caught in his throat when you take him in your warm hand.
“Always.” You kiss his jawline and fix your position above his dick. Your slick pussy presses down against his shaft, coating it in your juices and rubbing his tip to your clit for a delicious sensation. Jaemin groans, his gaze dipping between your lower bodies and back to your face.
“My sweet (Y/N) thinks about her daddy fucking her senseless while she touches herself.” Jaemin chuckles darkly, grinding his hips harder against you. There is a shift in the atmosphere as he grips your hips and slowly enters your dripping hole. “That’s cute, baby.”
You hold onto his shoulders as his raw dick fills you to the brim, stretching you out like past nights. Gasps leave your body when he starts pulling all the way out to only have you sink back down. “Daddy, please just fuck me.”
Jaemin picks up his speed, knowing that you have a quiz due at midnight that you scolded him for forgetting earlier. The grip on his shoulders tighten as this man navigates your body all too well. He knows you like the back of his hand, fucking the spot that causes your body to lose control.
One of his favorite sights in the world is the view of your lips parted open with loud whimpers falling effortlessly. Your eyes roll back into your skull as his hips roll deeper into your walls, the tip hitting your sweet spot repeatedly.
“You’re always the best girl for me, aren’t you?” His hand wraps around your neck when you throw your head back, choking you lightly and your walls grip around his shaft. “I know you’re close. Cum on my dick, baby. Be a good girl.”
Jaemin’s tattoos shine under the moonlight when you peer down at him. His hooded eyes are intoxicated by the pure image of your fucked out body and he’s truly in love. “My good girl, come on baby.” He continues to encourage, his other hand giving you a smack on your ass when he drills mercilessly into you.
The familiar bubbling occupy your lower half and the feeling of release unravels all so suddenly. You fall forward, Jaemin lets go of your neck to hold your limp body close to him, your head on his shoulder as your orgasm overtakes you. He grinds his hips into you to prolong your shaking climax, cooing sweet nothings in your ear as his other hand takes a whole handful of ass to squeeze.
He bottoms out, filling you up to the rim to cum deep inside of you. Jaemin moans loudly, his cum spilling all over your walls. You two sit like that until he grows soft, pampering your temples with gentle kisses. Jaemin remembers to take care of you, no matter what.
While you’re in his arms, he reaches for sanitary wipes in the side compartments. He lifts your hips slowly to pull out and you sigh at the emptiness. Gently, he swipes at the dripping cum from your pussy and makes sure that you’re all cleaned up before getting dressed.
“So, you want to tell me why you’ve been MIA for the past five days?” Rolling your eyes, you pull up your panties and fix the last decency of your hair.
“Car meets that are too far for me to take you.” His thumb rubs your chin lovingly and Jaemin’s eyes are so bright and mesmerizing, you find that it’s hard to look him in the eye at times.
“Not because you’ve been hooking up with other girls?” There is a tinge of sarcasm that laces your rhetorical question and though you don’t expect him to give you an actual answer, you take note of his reaction. Jaemin raises an eyebrow, clearing his throat and looking out the window away from you.
“And if I was?” Truthfully, that question hurt you more than your’s hurt him. His hand rests underneath his chin as he patiently waits for your answer. He admires the clear night sky and the rundown abandoned liquor store that stands all by itself.
“What do you want me to say?” Question after question, a stiff tension replaces the sex of the car.
“I’ll take you back now.” Jaemin crawls back to the driver’s seat, completely ignoring your confused figure. He has always been quite like this: going aloof whenever he wants to dodge something. However, it’s been happening more frequently the past times you two have been seeing each other.
The truth is simple, yet entirely complex at the same time. You and Jaemin aren’t dating, despite always going out together and him posessively introducing you to other men. You and Jaemin aren’t dating.
Nevertheless, it doesn’t stop you from growing feelings for him and you can tell that this happens too often for the attractive boy. He can’t have a fuckbuddy that won’t fall head over heels for him. But who could really blame you? Even if all this time Jaemin was pretending that he cared about you, he still pampers you like a princess; he still tells you he does.
But when it comes to discussion about advancing into something more, he hides and grows silent. This has you wondering, maybe this entire thing to him is all sex? And he can’t love you back the way you do.
No one knows his heart, not even himself. He’s never wanted to complicate his life, it’s always been about two things: racing and having fun. There is no easy way to explain it all, the thoughts that flood his mind and heart, so he chooses every way to ignore it. Overall, he’s genuinely lost. You are one source of stability in his life that he isn’t willing to let go, ever. But just because he won’t let you go, doesn’t mean that you won’t take the chance to leave when you’re fed up with him.
This has him wondering, how far can he push before he pushes you too far?
“No, it’s fine. I’ll just walk.” Tonight is unsettling, it usually doesn’t end like this. Jaemin locks the car doors and turns around to reach for your hand. “Jaemin, open the door.”
“I want you to say that you hate when I sleep with other people.” Jaemin confesses all too wildly as his hand lightly squeezes around your wrist. “And I want you to mean it.” He’s only speaking words of truth that haven’t had the time to process in his own thoughts.
“I hate when you sleep with other people.” And you do mean it. You mean it more than anything you’ve ever said to this man. Jaemin just sighs, bringing your wrist to his lips for a lasting kiss.
“Can I drive you home?” Jaemin asks softly, eyes dipping down to the leather seats and avoiding all need for eye contact.
“Yes, Jaemin.” He pulls you back into the passenger seat and drapes the soft blanket over your exposed legs. “Hopefully, I still have time to take my quiz.”
“Can I come inside?” Jaemin coolly turns his marble wheel to reverse out of the parking space, a hand resting on the shoulder of your seat as he does a double take behind him for any pedestrians, even if you two are far out in the middle of nowhere and there isn’t anyone around; Jaemin knows you have the hots for him when he does that specific move.
“What do you mean? You’ve already cum inside.”
It’s the sound of disappointment as his tongue tsks at you and he flicks lightly at your forehead. He steps on the acceleration, revving the annoying engine that roars throughout the peaceful night. The multicolored lights illuminate around his stereo and at your feet, creating the Rainbow Road right out of Mario Kart. 
Jaemin isn’t like the others who pay close attention to the details of his car. His motto goes, “if I like it, I’m going to have it.” Whether or not anything matches goes beyond his worries.
In some ways, his car is a mirror of his own personality --- wild and free, colorful and welcoming. And his skills as a driver? Safe, no matter how far the speedometer goes, Jaemin always makes you feel safe.
“I mean come inside your room for aftercare. You know how much I hate leaving you without a proper cuddle.” He pouts and almost immediately his cute baby tone comes out with his beg. Almost subconsciously, Jaemin lays his right palm open facing up to invite yours in. Almost routinely, you lace your hands to complete his hold. Getting Jaemin to smile has never been easier as his hold grows tighter.
“You can’t stay over tonight though. My housemates are doing some Single Girls Only house event tomorrow and it starts immediately when we wake up.” You laugh as the ridiculous words fill the air.
“And you’re participating in that?” Jaemin mindlessly asks and you’re unable to differentiate his implications from the question. Is he asking because the idea is horrendously nothing you’d like to do or he’s implying that you’re not single?
“Why wouldn’t I?” Sounding rather harsher than intended, Jaemin finally realizes how poorly he had worded his previous question. Yet, a part of him feels disappointment whirling in his chest and a desire to feel wanted by you.
“Doesn’t seem like something you’d like: wallowing in your singleness.” He chuckles, remaining lighthearted and playful.
“I really don’t.” Jaemin brings your knuckles up to his lips for a lingering kiss, his eyes darting quickly on the road ahead now that you’ve entered the metropolitan areas and his speed drops significantly to avoid getting ticketed.
“I’ll come pick you up. Instead of being single tomorrow, you’ll be on a date.” When you turn to examine his facial expression, the serious tension in his jawline and focused eyes alarm you. Your stomach twists into knots and if he couldn't already tell, your palms grow sweaty at his offer.
“That’s such a slap in the face to them.” Pulling your hand away from his, you cross your arms and lean your head against the cold window. “I don’t think I can do that to them.”
“I have a race tomorrow.” He starts, his head tilting over at you with his round gorgeous begging eyes, “at least, come to that with me.”
“Okay, but only because I want to see Haechan.” As if it wasn’t moments ago, Jaemin was the one balls deep in you and now you’re spewing enthusiasm for another man. It’s all a joke, a way for you to conceal your undying attraction for Jaemin.
You still remember the first time you met the sunshine that is Haechan and the jealousy that seeped from Jaemin’s words when he noticed the exchange of flirtation. Haechan is someone you’d knowingly gravitate towards: a man with a loud personality that just knows how to conduct every personality in the room. And at that moment, Jaemin couldn’t tell if being more observant was a good or bad thing.
Jaemin never saw himself as outgoing as his other friends, staying more kept in his own circle, but he had the confidence to fake it. He’s bold, rather impulsive and slightly narcissistic, Jaemin knows how to use his strengths very well. 
However, when he saw the soft smirk on Haechan’s face and your shy mannerisms, a small tinge in his chest ignited a died out flame. He didn’t realize it before, but that was the very start of his long tumble of feelings for you.
“Do you say those things to purposefully get me jealous?” Jaemin rests his hand on your thigh, giving it a harsh squeeze. His eyes never leave the road and his tone reverts back to his dominant tone.
“Well, are you jealous?” It’s like you two dance in circles, answer questions with a question does not stop.
And as bratty as your tone is, you don’t expect the quick “yes” that answers back and the smoldering look he gives you briefly before focusing back on the drive.
“Then good.” You huff, ready to hop out of the car after the odd, yet sensual tension. Jaemin pulls up to your house and double parks the car to lean in for a nightly goodbye kiss.
“You’re not coming in?” You try to read his facial expressions, but he hides his emotions too perfectly.
His lips curl into a smile before saying, “I think it’s better I cool off tonight.” And you mindlessly give him a peck, but he holds your face to deepen it. Through the kiss, you can feel the neediness by the way Jaemin shoves his tongue into your mouth. The taste of lust against your palette is difficult to ignore, but your academically responsible mind screams at you about your forgotten quiz.
Your hand lightly taps at his chest and he pulls away, his eyes drinking up your swollen lips. “I have a quiz, Jaemin.”
“I know, sorry. It’s just so easy to get lost in you.” Jaemin kisses your cheek once more before you exit. You smile back at him as his words have grown a strong effect on you lately. Bidding him goodbye, he wishes you sweet dreams as he patiently makes sure you’re fully inside your house.
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“Is the music too loud?” Jaemin checks over at your hunched figure in the passenger seat. You’re diligently flipping through your thick textbook, a yellow highlighter in one hand and the other comfortably holding Jaemin’s.
The worst part of college is the never ending midterms that are given at any time. Studying in his car isn’t a rare sight, if anything it is more expected than you not doing anything related to your academics. But Jaemin genuinely doesn’t mind, even being mindful about his own actions to ensure an optimal studying space for you.
He really is an ideal guy. Like his first promise, he keeps you well fed and never once asks you for any monetary pay back. Jaemin adjusts the car temperature before you even step into the vehicle, knowing that you prefer wearing less clothes rather than more. Though he isn’t academically responsible, he still makes the effort to try and understand enough information to pass his classes.
The sole flaw would be the lack of open communication. It’s genuinely difficult for you to read his emotions or intentions. Jaemin always has a dazed look in his eyes whenever he looks at you, and it’s an internal fight about whether or not you’re being delusional.
“Music is fine, honey.” The mindless use of a pet name slips from your lips, but your concentration on neoliberalism and globalization doesn’t allow for you to notice.
Nevertheless, Jaemin catches on immediately to the usage. While he showers you in ridiculous nicknames, you’re not one to do so. “Honey?”
“Yes?” You answer back carelessly, not entirely actively listening to him as you highlight an important concept in your book.
“No, you called me honey.”
Looking up from your page, you blink at him with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape. “I did?”
Jaemin chuckles and finally pulls into the overly crowded parking lot, a whole mass of fanboys cheering at the arrival of his flashy vehicle. Everyone just loves Jaemin.
This familiar scene plays like a reel --- several high beams cast light under the dark sky due to the lack of functioning street lamps, dizzy multicolored cars that blaze the tracks, and the all too distinct smell of musky cologne in the chilly air. Oh, and the wide eye admirable stares when you get out of the car.
“Hi, you’re stunning.” A bold new recruit blinks at you in complete awe and awkwardly clears his throat once he realizes his rash comment.
Jaemin raises an eyebrow at him, then at how you plan on handling the situation. You’re flattered, nonetheless, but know that Jaemin didn’t bring you here to flirt with other men. “Thank you. I hope you enjoy your membership in the Ridin’ Club.”
The gracefulness in your delicate voice has the youthful recruit swooning and subtly giddy as he runs off to join a group of others that have been eying you across the parking lot. Jaemin casually drapes his leather jacket over your exposed shoulders, knowing the temperature change is going to result in you most likely catching a cold and because you never bring a jacket despite his plea.
“The power you hold.” Jaemin winks at you before pulling you into a larger crowd to socialize with more impressionable recruits.
“Ah, so you’re (Y/N)!” The stranger is unrecognizable, but you giggle to acknowledge his confident statement. “We haven’t met before, but Jaemin was talking about you the other night at our motorcycle meet.”
Your eyes light up, as if you’ve unlocked a new fun fact of Na Jaemin. “You drive a motorcycle too?” You’re truly shocked at the talent of this man.
Jaemin snakes his arm around your lower waist to draw you closer to his side. “Yeah, but I can’t fuck you in a motorcycle, can I?”
Before the other men can comment on the obvious sexual tension that Jaemin created, he leans in to whisper into your ear. “Actually, I can, but we’ll save our decency from unwanted exposure.” His hot breath grazes against the shell of your ear and you just know where you two are going to end up tonight.
“Bro, you guys probably fuck in the backseat of his car.” One of them chimes recklessly, punching at each others’ chest playfully as if he made a decent joke.
“Why don’t you stay to find out?” Jaemin retorts and the grip on your hip becomes tighter. You’re too flustered to add much into this odd form of competitive banter, distracted by none other than the way Jaemin keeps glancing over at you with a delicious gleam in his eyes.
“So what? You don’t care about us now?” You’d know that bratty tone from anywhere as Lee Haechan pushes past everyone else to rush over to the both of you.
“Aw, are your feelings hurt?” Jaemin sticks his tongue out at his friend before cordially sharing a handshake with him.
“Just slightly.” Haechan looks over at you with a wide grin and playful eyes, “hello, my pretty girl.”
“Drop the possessives, Haechan.” Jaemin rolls his eyes with an irritable twitch on his lips.
He hates how obviously jealous he gets. It’s something too difficult for himself to control, he’s exhausted his efforts to bite his tongue whenever it comes to other people’s flirtations. The thought of someone else calling you theirs doesn’t sit well with him.
“I understand your jealousy, Jaem. If someone was flirting with (Y/N), I wouldn’t be able to stand it either.” Haechan fixes the falling jacket on your shoulders. “But she can handle herself, I know those pretty lips have a mind of their own.” His gaze drops momentarily, yet obvious enough for you to grow shy at how strong Haechan is coming off tonight.
“Stop trying to corrupt her, that’s my job.” Jaemin playfully pushes at Haechan’s chest and they both break out laughing.
“I haven’t said one thing and you’re both talking about me as if I’m not here.” Your small pout is literally the cutest thing to Jaemin. He physically has to stop himself from planting the sweetest kiss on it.
It’s blatantly clear that you’re hot stuff. You’re the perfect example of a head turner, your captivating aura has its ability to suffocate those around you. However, Jaemin has seen all sides of you, but overall finding you so entirely cute. And oddly enough, Jaemin has a knack for cute things.
“Is that (Y/N) I hear?” Huang Renjun engulfs you in a hug, showing clear affection and doesn’t mind doing so. “How did your project go?”
“It went well. You accomplish a lot when you don’t procrastinate.” Renjun gleams at your statement and if Jaemin is delusional enough, he’d probably mistaken the twinkle in his eyes for infatuation instead of admiration.
“You’re so responsible, why are you messing with Jaemin?” Renjun sighs and though his question is more of a joke, there is some truth behind his words.
Your friendship with his friends differ immensely compared to other girls who have come around. Like Jaemin had said before, his boys were going to like you and they do, a lot. Sometimes making it obvious that you’re too good for him.
Jeno comes up from the side, an unidentifiable bruise on his neck and a new cut on his brow. Lee Jeno being such a rough character, his appearance speaks well about how his day has been.
But when he lays his eyes on you, it’s as if all his pain is replaced with joy and security. “(Y/N)! I haven’t seen you in so long!” The enthusiastic boy rushes over to greet you with a warm smile.
“I’m pretty sure I was here a week ago.” You laugh, but welcome him in your arms for a tender friendly hug and pat his head out of habit.
“It’s been a week?! That’s so long.” Jeno narrows his eyes at Jaemin and flicks his forehead.
“Ow!” Jaemin exclaims while rubbing the pain away. “You act like she doesn’t go to the same school as us and therefore, can see her any time you want to.” The tone in Jaemin’s voice raises some eyebrows as they all exchange glances to each other before bursting into laughter.
“Like your jealous ass would allow for that?” Haechan remarks and Jaemin doesn’t outwardly react. However, Jaemin’s hand is squeezing you so tight that you’re more than certain he’s bothered by the comment.
“Oh, stop it. You all know I’m Team Jaemin. He does have the most wins this past month.” You only know that through Jaemin’s proud boasting, anything else in the racing world is unknown to you.
Jaemin situates you in between his legs as he slightly sits on the hood of his car. His arms wrap around your middle and chin rests on your shoulder. Public display of affection isn’t a problem for him, and you learned much earlier that Jaemin can’t keep his hands off of you.
Renjun scoffs at your whimsical fact, in absolute disbelief. “It hurts more hearing you say it. I’m getting my car upgraded, but once it’s done, I’m going to blaze his ass on the tracks.”
“Are you racing today?” Jeno asks the blue haired fellow that clings onto you like a koala.
“Yeah, against a newbie. Apparently he’s really good, so I’m not too sure I’ll win.” Jaemin mumbles into your hair.
“You say that every time, yet you win!” Renjun crosses his arms, weight shifting to his left leg as he pops his hip out. There is always a sense of competition between anyone with Renjun.
Jaemin perks up behind you and when you turn around in his arms, you’re face to face with a beaming smile. “That’s because I have you.” Eyes lock with yours, he isn’t saying that directed to Renjun. Na Jaemin has you wrapped around his pinky, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach are too hard to ignore.
“Alright, lovebirds. Get in your car and let’s start this shit.” Haechan groans and claps his hands to draw the crowd’s attention. Cupping them around his mouth, he roars into the starry night, “let’s roll!”
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During the race, Jaemin’s number one priority is to keep you safe. While you’ve sat in his car for a number of times now, it’s different once the loud bang goes off and he’s hitting 100 mph. Tonight’s track is much more dangerous, with twists and turns that can have the vehicle flying weightlessly if he’s not careful.
“You trust me, right?” Jaemin has both hands on the wheel and the engine rumbling as you both anticipate the start of the race.
Spectators watch on the sidelines as if it’s the ultimate battle, but Jaemin doesn’t pay them much mind. He’s more concerned about you instead. “Of course. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. You’ve proven yourself that you’re an excellent driver, so let’s win this.”
Jaemin smirks at your encouraging words, feeling a warmth spread across his chest. “I’ll tap out any time you want me to, okay?”
You nod and the initial whip of the car is so intense that you didn’t even register the sound off. It’s not your first race, but it’s been awhile since the last one. When you adjust to the pressure, the lanes in front of you cause a slight queasiness in your stomach.
It’s a two lane windy road that wraps around the mountain side and Jaemin happens to be in the outer lane. All it takes is a second of lost control and you two will hit the metal railings that guard the cliff below. Despite your inner panic, Jaemin guides you through the pooling anxiety that leaves you restless.
“(Y/N), look up and out the window. We’re coming up on the cliff side view, I’ve always wanted to bring you here.” Your eyes land on the dazzling glitter that dances on the ripples of the lake. It’s so vast, the moon high up in the sky is reflected on the water below. It’s a romantic scene of melancholy and bliss. Suddenly, you feel at peace in the middle of this high speed race.
“It’s beautiful, Jaem.” You whisper calmly and he’d reach for your hand to hold, but races take too much wheel control. And he’d turn to look at you, but races take too much concentration on the road ahead.
But throughout every obstacle, he hears the gentleness and the solidarity in your cadence in the midst of all the high stress. He, too, feels peace. He feels calm knowing that you’re simply by his side, even in the face of danger. So, he can finally admit to himself… he genuinely developed feelings for you.
Before you know it, you’re thrusted side to side from the sharp turns and the adrenaline kicks in when the other racer catches up right next to Jaemin. “Fuck,” Jaemin curses underneath his breath and steps harshly on the acceleration. “Baby, I’m going to go a bit faster so hold onto something.” He warns and your hand finds the grab handle. It’s neck and neck at this point.
Usually, you squeeze your eyes shut to avoid becoming too overwhelmed by the sights in front of you. Tonight is different, not entirely knowing why, you’re observing every element that circles around the perimeter.
The finish line is up ahead, but there is no sign that the other racer is slowing down. Then, you see it: the fatal mistake that can cost you both of your lives if you didn’t catch it. “Jaemin, watch out!” You yelp when the other car inches dangerously close, your warning allows Jaemin to make a controlled swerve away from a possible hit.
Jaemin shakes his head and tsks at the recklessness. “Now I know why he’s good. It’s foul play.” He blows his bang out of his eyes and casually says, “thank you for warning me. This is why I need you by my side.”
He makes it to the finish line barely before the other, winning the race by half a second. Jaemin brakes smoothly, tire marks scrapping the concrete below, and you both exit the car to celebrate with everyone else.
But before the mass of eager shouting men make their way over to you two, Jaemin hurries to your side to pull you into a steamy, rewarding kiss. The scene is just like the movies; his hand on your lower back and yours on his chest lightly. His lips taste like triumph, like he had won more than just a simple race against a random stranger. He’s won the best person he could ever have.
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You two fled the scene after cussing out the other racer. It was a rare sight to see: Jaemin being all bothered and angry, practically fuming after scrambling back into the driver’s seat. However, your mind had mischievous plans of its own and all it took was one look from his hooded eyes for you to announce that you wanted him --- badly.
Back in your usual abandoned parking lot, Jaemin pauses before following you to the back seats. With the engine off and the dead of the night being absolute silent, the tension remains thick around you two. “(Y/N),” Jaemin is about to confess something he never thought he’d admit. He turns to you sitting in the middle seat with just your panties on and a curious look on your face.
His heart burns and despite being so incredibly aroused, he controls his urges enough to be able to say, “I’m into you.”
“I know you’re into me, that’s how we ended up like this in the first place.” You giggle cluelessly to his words, still not understanding the odd shift in mood and intentions. It’s always his unclear, messy intentions.
Though he can’t entirely figure out his puzzle pieces, he has plenty to connect the dots. “I like you. I want to be in a relationship with you and call you my girlfriend.”
You’re stunned. Did Jaemin just confess to you as you sit in your panties ready to fuck? This softness is different from the sides you’ve seen of him. It’s similar to a lost bunny, wandering grasslands to find a purpose. He looks so fragile, one intense stare and he’d crumble. This softness is vulnerability.
“So do it.” The boldness catches him off guard, but switches on the dominance in him. “If you want me, come show it.”
He climbs over the middle console to push you into the leather seats. “Not acting shy anymore, are you?” Practically ripping your shirt off of you, he cups your breast lightly and flicks at your nipples. Your immediate reaction results in a rush of wetness down your core.
“Before I forget,” sitting up, you share a passionate kiss that you’ve held back long enough. You give it every ounce of feeling you have for him. “If it isn’t obvious enough, I like you too.”
“It’s obvious, baby.” Kissing your nose, he wraps a hand around your throat to lightly push you back down. “But hearing you say it out loud makes me happy.” Jaemin smirks, hand still choking you gently and pampering your jawline with soft kisses.
His free hand reaches down into your dripping panties, circling your clit with your wetness. The sensation causes you to whimper for more. “Daddy, give it to me.” You wiggle in his palm, knowing that the nickname is more than effective.
“My sweet (Y/N) wants to get fucked?” Jaemin rolls your underwear off and rids himself of his own bottoms.
“Yes, please.” Through the darkness, his hard dick stands proudly. Jaemin lines himself up as he thrusts into you without another second of hesitation. He waits for you to adjust to his size, his tip barely grazing your sweet spot. “Fuck…”
“You take me so well, my pretty baby.” Jaemin starts moving his hips, slowly at first to build a rhythm. Taking your legs, he presses them into your chest to fuck you at a deeper angle. And you feel him practically in your guts, his cock pumping against your walls deliciously and bumping into your g-spot. “Do you want more of me?”
Your train of thought is in utter shambles and whatever Jaemin is saying to you barely processes. You’re overwhelmed by a pleasure that fills every system, every part of your body. To answer him, you let out an incoherent noise of approval.
Jaemin pulls your hips down while thrusting forward into you, maximizing every inch of his strokes. This single action causes you to scream and grip onto the headrest. “Who knew my sweet girl could be so fucking dirty?” Jaemin chuckles darkly, his cadence dropping several decibels. “When I first met you, I wanted to ruin you.”
All of his filthy words edge you closer to your release as he continues to repeat his previous motion. He holds your hips in place to grind into you, the feeling of his tip rubbing your walls has your eyes rolling back. “Do you want to cum, (Y/N)?”
“Yes!” You yell, the tight ball in your lower abdomen is bound to break any minute. “I want to cum so badly, please.” You beg and moan, the arch in your back lifts you from the seat of the car. Jaemin snaps his hips into you, drilling you quickly to reach your high. And you break. An euphoric cry fills the air as your walls clench around his length. You hear the extra wetness create a slick noise, but Jaemin isn’t done with you yet.
“You wanted to cum so fucking badly. I’ll reward you with one more for being such a good girl for me.” His thumb flicks at your clit and you convulse into spasms from the sensitivity. Your violently shaking legs can’t hold themselves up anymore and Jaemin rests them on his shoulders. He lines kisses along your ankle as the pleasure overtakes you.
“I don’t think I can do it.” You whine, your fingers twisting and toes curling.
“You are going to try, okay baby?” He coos, but it’s most definitely a demand. He sits back on his knees to pick up more speed, fucking endlessly into your swollen pussy and thumb rubbing fast strips against your bud.
“I’m going to snap, Jaem.” You cry, tears rimming your eyes and before you know it, a second wave hits you. Your second orgasm is ruinous and has you squirming around to regain some sense of control.
“Oh fuck, you’re so beautiful.” Jaemin slows down as your walls grip around him again, tighter this time. “I’m going to fill you up with cum,--- watch it drip out of you.” He grunts while releasing into you, his dick twitching and spraying your insides with white.
He pulls out as hot, white cum spills from your pussy. You take this moment to catch your breath and relax your legs. However, Jaemin coats his two fingers and shoves the cum back into you. “Jaemin!” You exclaim at the sudden intrusion.
He curls them into your plushy walls and finger fucks you into another oblivion. “Wait, again?” Your hands wrap around his wrist, but Jaemin moves too fast for you to catch it.
You’re a moaning mess again, louder than before. Jaemin leans down and flicks his tongue against your overstimulated bundle of nerves. Your back arches automatically and a low animalistic scream rises from your throat.
He observes your body lines underneath the moonlight and the last remaining light the broken street lamps have to offer. Your face contours and you’re so far out into ecstasy that you don’t notice how intensely Jaemin watches you lose yourself.
“It feels too good!” With one last thrilling orgasm, you almost pass out and you see small stars of dizziness. He soaks up every last bit of your cathartic reaction and festers a small sense of pride that he can make you feel all this pleasure.
“Such a good girl. You’re beyond impressive, baby.” Jaemin pulls his fingers out to lick them clean and finds some wipes to help you out of your sticky situation.  
“Now that you’re my girlfriend, can we cuddle at any time now? Not just as after care.” He peers up at you and the one word enacts a burning warmth to spread across your chest. That is the best nickname he can call you by.
“I think the Singles Girls Only house event is still going on, but after that, yes a million times.” You laugh and wrap your arms around him into a big loving hug.
Jaemin feels right at home. All the long years of living carelessly and wild, he’s finally found someone worth the extra mile. While Jaemin was a thriving adventure to be explored, you were his comfort to run back to.
It is through the intimacy of your backseat chronicles that Jaemin was able to fall deeper for you. You’re his lucky charm, for some reason, he always feels better around you. 
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cat3ch1sm · 3 years ago
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🍈| FINALLY i got started on the I x reader smut. im so srry guys!!! :((( i am taking way too long ik :(((( im trying my best i promise!! it will be out within the week:(((
🍏| here's some death note incorrect quotes to make y'all feel better ig i hope y'all aren't mad😔😔😔😔 enjoy:(((
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death note incorrect quotes
ʚ┈┈୨❁୧┈┈ɞ
light: i went through an entire character arc during the time after i lost my memory
light: i became more evil if you're curious
I: don't worry, as long as u haven't killed me, there's still time for a redemption arc!
light: im going to get worse on purpose
ʚ┈┈୨❁୧┈┈ɞ
misa: so are we flirting rn?
light: misa i am literally contemplating killing you
misa: that doesn't answer my question
ʚ┈┈୨❁୧┈┈ɞ
misa: are you sure this is the right direction?
light: yes, im as sure as i am honest.
I: in that case, we are definitely lost.
ʚ┈┈୨❁୧┈┈ɞ
l: light, in your opinion, what's the height of stupidity?
light, turning to misa: how tall are you?
(this same thing but with aizawa, soichiro, and matsuda)
ʚ┈┈୨❁୧┈┈ɞ
matsuda, watching the news: someone tried to fight a squid at the aquarium today!
aizawa, walking in covered ink: well, maybe the squid was being a dick.
ʚ┈┈୨❁୧┈┈ɞ
misa, kicking the door down: so you two are having sex!
l, turning to light with a book in hand: oh, really? why didn't you tell me, light? i would've put my book down.
ʚ┈┈୨❁୧┈┈ɞ
near: where are you going?
mello: to get an ice cream or commit a felony, ill decide on the way there
ʚ┈┈୨❁୧┈┈ɞ
watari: okay, truth or dare?
l: truth
watari: how many hours have u slept this week?
I:
l:
l: dare
watari: go to bed.
l: i don't like this game
ʚ┈┈୨❁୧┈┈ɞ
light: i can explain
near: can you?
light: yeah, just give me thirty seconds to think of a lie
ʚ┈┈୨❁୧┈┈ɞ
soichiro: remember when you didn't use to solve all of your problems with murder?
light: stop romanticizing the past.
ʚ┈┈୨❁୧┈┈ɞ
l: tonight, one of you will betray me.
watari: is it me, ryuzaki?
I: no, it's not you.
soichiro: is it me, ryuzaki?
I: no, not you either.
light: is it me, ryuzaki?
l:
l:
l: iS iT mE rYuZaKi
ʚ┈┈୨❁୧┈┈ɞ
mello: i just ended a four-year relationship.
near: oh, im sorry. are u ok?
mello: yeah, it wasn't my relationship
*muffled screaming from light and takada*
ʚ┈┈୨❁୧┈┈ɞ
cop: you're getting a ticket for having three people on a motorcycle.
mello: shit
l: wait, three?
near:
cop: yeah...
mello: OH MY GOD MATT FELL OFF
ʚ┈┈୨❁୧┈┈ɞ
l: i know you've been killing people for light, misa.
light, whispering: play dumb.
misa: who's misa?
light: NOT THAT DUMB
ʚ┈┈୨❁୧┈┈ɞ
near, in a high voice, holding barbie: hey ken! I was thinking about going back to school and starting a career!
mello, in a deep voice, holding ken: nonsense, barbie. you’re staying home and having my kids
l: what the fuck are you guys doing?
near: playing systemic oppression
ʚ┈┈୨❁୧┈┈ɞ
misa: if i die, my funeral is going to be the biggest party ever and you’re all invited
light: if?
l: great, the only party i've ever been invited to and she might not even die.
ʚ┈┈୨❁୧┈┈ɞ
l: light, keep an eye on misa amane today. she's going to say something to the wrong person and get killed.
light: sure, i'd love to see misa get killed.
l: try again.
light, sighing: i will stop misa from getting murdered.
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keiarchived · 4 years ago
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Freshman Year
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stoner!Atsumu x f!innocent!reader x stoner!Suna ft stoner!Osamu
warnings: Drug (weed), gangbang, oral (giving), anal, dubcon, fucking whilst high, university!au, sex tape, cockwarming, corruption kink, sleepy writing
words: 1.8k
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To say you were inexperienced, naive and artless, they weren’t wrong. You’re the last person who would cheat on their essay and cause yet another headache to your lecturer. You’re the classic ‘goodie two shoes’ as Atsumu calls you, the same couldn’t be said about both Miya twins and Suna, however.
They are anything but good.
You should’ve listened to those whispers of warnings and rumours that made their way around the campus, how they’re the last people you’d want to get involved with despite their popularity among students. You either love them or hate them, there’s no in-between with valid reasons.
You don’t belong in their world, you know that. But it doesn’t stop Suna from wanting to strip the innocent of you. Maybe it's the way you smiled nervously at him or maybe the glare you gave Atsumu whenever he made those snarky comments, but one thing for sure is that he wants to show you what you’ve been missing.
“Suna...” It almost came out as a whine whilst your head fell back against his shoulder, dark iris swallowing those rings of colours whilst your lips parted delicately with a cute pout. “Hmm? What’s wrong?” He coo, arm resting snuggly and comfortably around your waist as he pulls you even closer to press a kiss on your temple. Chilling at the Miya’s with Suna and his friends has become a regular thing ever since your first proper encounter with him at the party, where your friend ditched you for another guy. Perhaps you should’ve seen through him before accepting his offer to keep your company that night, maybe then you could’ve avoided whatever this is between you and Suna. But would you’ve pushed him away if given the chance?
“Wan’ more...” You whimpered, earning a chuckle from the man as he peppered your cheeks with few more playful kisses before pulling away. “What do you want, princess? C’mon, use your words” Suna love to see it when you’re desperate like this in his arms, staring up at him with those bleary eyes, cheeks flustered and small hands trembling as you grasp at his jacket with wants. “Mmn... smoke... wan’ more of smoke...” You slurred between each hitched breath of yours, feeling a few pairs of eyes glued onto the both of you as Suna leaned closer after taking a drag of his blunt before letting the heavy white smoke slips past your plump lips like weightless velvet. Oh, if only you knew how alluring you are when taking every ounce of the fumes from him greedily. Close enough for both of your lips to slot together, but far away enough for a grin to tug at his lips before pulling away. “Still not used to taking it on your own hm?” Or maybe you just adore these tingles dancing against your skin every time Suna shotguns it to you, as if he’s feeding you his essence in the most sexual way possible.
“Ya babying her too much, Suna. Gonna end up spoiling her.” Atsumu wasn’t wrong, ever since his friend introduced you to an unfamiliar world of ecstasy, he has you wrapped around his fingers like a puppy on a leash. “Why not, jealous Tsumu?” You could barely listen to their conversation as a giggle slipped past your lips, Suna could still remember the time you took your first hit. Trying to copy him only for those bitter smoke tickles your throat, making you cough with tears swelling from your eyes. It was cute though, he praised you for being a good girl, done so well on your first try as he wiped away those tears before wrapping those legs around your waist to give you the fucking of your life and the rest was history.
It was Suna who got you addicted to... him.
“You bet, how come she’s always hanging off your arm when you guys aren’t even together?” Astumu scoffed as shifts from his seat, watching from the opposite sofa with a frown over his defined features. It is unfair really, how you’ve chosen Suna over anyone else. Atsumu would love to slips his arms around you once in a while too, playing with those pretty lips of yours whilst you get drunk of him instead.
Despite no strings attached between you and Suna, shaking your head no as soon as he mumbles softly under his breath, beckoning you to go sit with Atsumu but no — you didn’t want to. “Nnu...Wanna stay...” Instead, your grip tightens on the fabric of his jacket, snuggling further into him until your head is buried at the crook of his neck.
If only you’re sober enough to see the faint but taunting smug smile Suna have stretched across his lips as he shrugged at his friend, guiding you to sit properly on his lap instead with your back facing Atsumu. “Better luck next time.”
God knows how long you’ve been sitting like this, legs folded on either side of Suna’s lap as you rest against his broad shoulder. Pins and needles crawl up your numb legs, shifting with an uncomfortable whine. To think Suna would waste a perfect opportunity like this, you’d be wrong, especially when all if most of his companions are high off their heads to even notice what the two of you’re about to do. “Baby, want my cock?” Suna isn’t subtle about it either, bulge poking at your clothed core. The mention of his cock was enough to have your clouded mind runs wild, grinding against his clothes erection with an eager nod. This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve cockwarm Suna in front of other souls like this, Tsumu would shuffle towards the both of your and join in occasionally. Shotgunning you with his own blunt whilst lazily as he jerks off to your moans and tangle bodies. “What happened to the sweet innocent princess we knew?
As the time you spend with Suna and the Miya twins grew, so did your confidence. Becoming more familiar with the substance than you originally were, however. It was naive of you to think you could do this properly on your own without Suna here to keep you out of trouble because you’re a big girl who knows how to take care of herself. But instead, you have taken a pretty big hit, blame Atsumu. It was his idea to lower the amount of tobacco this time around, instead of feeling the familiar high you have with Suna; this is something way stronger.
How did you end up atop of Tsumu with his cock buried deep inside your dripping cunt, you have no idea. Only remembering fragments of things he had said to you prior to this, “Suna aren’t here is he? Shame. Let me be Suna tonight for ya, baby. Ride me inside, bet I could treat ya better than ‘im, c’mon baby, don’t be shy. It’s not like he’s ya boyfrien’ or anythin’.” That’s all you could remember before a snap of Atsumu’s hips snapped you out of your thought, drawing a meal from your lips. “C’mon, baby. Don’t hide that pretty voice from me now.”
Atsumu’s little plan would’ve been a success if it wasn’t for Osamu, consider it payback. Call him selfish if you want, but seeing his twin brother knocking the breath out of your lungs sparks his jealousy. Sure he could’ve joined in easily but what’s the fun in that?
Suna has been stood by the door for a while now, watching as you desperately bounces on Atsumu’s cock and moaning his name between each of those sloppy kisses. But still, that stoic face remained unbothered, maybe a twitch here and there but nothing major, the completely opposite of what Samu thought he would do. After all, despite Suna saying he doesn’t care nor does he wants you, everyone knows how much he cares for you enough to keep you around for as long as he has. Instead, Suna approached the two of you. Yanking your head up those sweaty locks of yours whilst you could barely register the shift in his eyes, “You knew this was gonna happen didn’t you? Just wanted an excuse to fuck Tsumu.”
He wasn’t wrong, both Miya twins shares the same face and it is hared to ignore their handsome features after all.
Osamu was dumbfounded when Suna positioned himself behind you instead, not only did he not have a good go at Tsumu but at the end decide to join too before prepping your rear end the best way he can before inching in, frowning as he does. “Fuck... just as I expected. You’re so fucking, right baby”
Neither one of them paid attention to Samu before Suna caught him palming at his jeans, only then did he come closer with his cock freed with one hand whilst the other holding a phone and hit record. You should see the way your lips parts whenever you’re close or the complete fucked our expression that suits you so well, no worries though; Samu will keep a good record seeing as how well you take all three of them together with Samu’s cock lodge deeply down your throat, stuffing you full with all ends.
At least this time you are not the only one who’s slurring nonsense as you came, Tsumu was the first one to pump you full of his cum first then it was Samu and lastly Suna. Showering you in praises and kisses before the younger Miya twin decides to take up the aftercare duty upon himself since Tsumu has already blacked out and Suna doesn’t look that far off either with the remaining blunt in his hand.
Samu is the gentlest of them all, washing you carefully as though you’re a glass doll. Having you put on one of his shirts and setting you on the kitchen counter whilst he cooks, earning small nods and hums from you whenever he asks you a question. Samu’s surprise you even managed to hold yourself this well before finally crashing against his shoulder, it was a struggle to get you to eat some food and drink some water but he did anyway.
Only for Suna to snatch you away again with a wave of his hand and a pat on his lap, you practically scrambled out from Samu’s arms and into Suna’s chest. Snuggling comfortably against him with a content smile on your face.
At the end of the day, you are Suna’s precious little princess. He’s the one who shown how to roll a joint, how to smoke from a bong and be a little rebellious. The Miyas twins could hook up with you as many times as they want, but he knows you’d be running back to him as soon as it is over.
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Tag list: @m-mortimer @selfishwitch @sleepyrintaro @cxnicalsweetheart
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juju-on-dat-beat · 3 years ago
Text
"Stay": Parent!Sniper x Kid!Reader Part 2
••••
Previously on "Stay":
Demo looked at me with sorrow. "Im so sorry lass." He said softly and quickly.
I looked at him with tears falling down my face and my hair all over my face. I held my dad's hand harder now.
"Dont die" I mutter softly.
Present time: (No one's POV)
Y/N didnt know where they were. They have already awaken from their short slumber.
How did they fall asleep? Maybe from all the sadness they felt and confusion, Y/N's mind overloaded.
The 14 year old opened their eyes slowly, making sure the light wont blind them immediately.
They sat up straight from the hard surface and realized they were not alone.
Multiple people, including 'Demo' and The girl was there.
Y/N looked around, processing what happened and what is happening.
They realized that their dad was not in the room and remembered the bad memory that has been implanted into their brain. It just happened just a while ago too.
Y/N grabbed their head.  It felt heavy but then they managed to sit up straight.
Y/N's eyes began to prick with tears. They blinked and held their head in their hands.
They sniffled ever so slightly, not wanting to gain more attention.
Someone then placed a hand on the kid's shoulder.
Y/N looked up and saw the girl again. Y/N looked like they were about to break down to a million pieces.
Ms. Pauling then pulled Y/N closer and hugged them, it was hard with the handcuffs on but they managed. Patting their back and whispering 'its okay's and 'Im so sorry's in their ear.
Y/N cried softly onto the director's shoulder, hugging her back the handcuffs were tight.
"Its Ms. Pauling" The girl who hugged the child said.
"Hmm?" Y/N hummed, asking to repeat it.
"My name. Its Ms. Pauling. You are Y/N, yes? Mundy's kid." Ms. Pauling asked and let go of the child.
The 14 year old nodded and said nothing, tear stains on their face.
The director looked at the kid sadly and moved a hair out of their face. Then she continued to hug the child.
•••• (Y/N POV)
I hugged the woman tightly. Holding it like I would rip off from the world.
I couldnt stop the scene replaying in my head, but the girl's hugs, pats and words made it a little more bearable.
"How old are you, kid?" 'Ms. Pauling' asked me.
"F..F-Fourteen." I answered.
"So young. You are too young to deal with stuff like this." Ms. Pauling muttered. She continued to comfort me.
For a while, I stayed like this.
"Z..Zhat is ze bushman's child, correct?" A man in a red ski mask broke the silence.
I look up at him but never moved from my position. The man was just beside Ms. Pauling.
"Yes, Spy."  Ms. Pauling said a little annoyed.
"The kid's fourteen. With no one to take care of them. They just lost their father, okay? Try not to shi-... Trash-talk Sniper at the moment." She defended.
Spy opened his mouth and closed it back again.
I stared at him for a while. Until he felt eyes on him and looked at my direction. I then moved my hand and waved at him.
'Spy' looked at me, no expression on his face. Then after a while, he waved back. This made me smile a little, but it did not last long.
'Demo', who was behind me, started sputtering out nonsense. I let go of Ms. Pauling and turned to him and started poking his sides, to see if he was still alive. He didnt move.
"Is he dead too?" I ask.
"No! No.. No..." Ms. Pauling yelped and smiled awkwardly at me.
"He's just poiso- sleeping! See?" She reassured me and punched his side softly, no response. "Asleep" She repeated
I raised my eyebrow. "Okay.." I went back in for a hug and she accepted it.
She then started talking to the Spy.
I heard nothing but her heartbeat and vibrations from her voice.
After a bit, out of nowhere, she started sobbing.
I looked at her and repeated the same treatment she gave to me.
Ms. Pauling smiled sadly and held me closer.
The man in the red ski mask stayed quiet. Then, he spoke up.
"Ms. Pauling. I will not let them torture us, including the kid. In three seconds Im going to crack a cyanide molar." He said.
"If you both open your mouths, Ill spit a good sum of it into your throats before my heart stops." He finished.
I looked at him with disgust but rethink the chances. Maybe it was the most disgusting but best way? I dont wanna be tortured or even worse..
(Reminding you all the TFC Scout and Soldier are fucking pedophiles. Not accepting that fate for the kid)
I nodded.
"Thank you, Spy." Ms. Pauling thanked him and sniffed, letting go of me.
"De Rien." He replied.
We started doing this process. We looked like birds fighting.
Just then, a big guy broke down the door, screaming.
He panted. "What did Heavy miss?"
Spy spat out the weird foam as Ms. Pauling asked 'Heavy' some questions as he took the handcuffs off us.
He smiled at me and continued to talk with Ms. Pauling.
I didnt hear what they were saying because I was checking on Demo.
Though I only heard him say that only me and Ms. Pauling should leave.
I didnt mind it but I still tried checking on Demo.
"Wake up? Are you okay?" I whispered to the man who muttered nonsense.
I looked up to the person who sat beside Demo. It was a person with a gas mask.
"O-Oh? Hello" I said and waved.
They waved back happily but I only heard muffled sounds from the masked person.
I loud ring from probably a phone then distracted me and I turned towards the door.
"Heavy! Behind you!" Ms. Pauling said.
A man went through the door and Heavy puffed into smoke.
I yelp at the sudden poof. The smoke cleared and revealed an older, slimmer man. The mask hugging his face and something strapped on his head, covering an eye.
"I am working here." He muttered angrily.
"Urgent Call. Its the boss." The other man who entered the room answered and handed him the phone.
I quickly, but silently, went behind the gas-masked person I waved at just a while ago. They noticed my fear and brought me closer.
"What. Yes, I heard it. why?" The fake 'heavy' asked. "When? Is Beatrice alright?" He might have gained a negative response because he sighed.
"No, I can help. We got what we needed" He then proceeded to say a bunch of numbers to which I guess are coordinates? Maybe?
The two men went on.
"Ive got to go"
"What about these guys?"
"What do you think?"
The mask guy said sarcastically until a woman, who I learned was named Zhanna, was outside the door.
"Kill them." The masked intruder said as he pulled on his mask just enough to see his lower face.
Just then, Zhanna punched him but it dealt no damage, instead the guy was in place, shocked. Zhanna's blood decorated his mouth.
"Mm. It did not work" Zhanna realized and she frowned as she looked at her,,,, arm? Her hand was gone.
"Huh. Here, hold the shotgun" 'Soldier' said and gave Zhanna the shotgun.
"Let me try"
I knew what would happen next so I looked away.
After I heard a body hit the floor I stepped away from the gas mask man who shielded me.
The other man quickly grabbed Ms. Pauling and threatened to shoot her if they wouldnt put the shotgun down.
Anger ran over me. Ive already lost enough. I wont lose more.
As Zhanna slowly placed the shotgun on the ground, I boosted towards the guy who held Ms. Pauling captive. I clenched my fist and gave my all to give him a massive and painful punched to the side of his face.
My fist had landed on the man's cheekbone and he fell towards Spy. I grunted and held my hurt hand in pain.
"Agggghhh.." I  grunted and kept holding it, hoping the pain would go away.
Ms. Pauling gasped and grabbed my hand to try and sooth the pain. She ripped off some cloth from one of the bad guys and wrapped it around my sore and in-pain knuckles.
"Thank you. How brave of you" Ms. Pauling said as she finished the bandage.
I looked up at her. "Mm.." I only hummed.
Again, I blocked out ever noise, focusing on the pain on my knuckles. I sat down next to Spy. Ms. Pauling, Soldier, Zhanna and Spy were probably talking.
Soldier then grabbed an old man in a grey suit and left him on the floor to do God knows what.
I didnt pay attention much but Ms. Pauling and this Grey suited old man began talking, I believe. Spy was listening. Soldier and Zhanna? I have no clue.
I kissed my knuckles, to sooth the pain.
Just like what dad used to do.
A tear left my eye. Either from the pain I felt on my knuckle or the pain I felt in the inside.
I heard nothing so far.
Until a certain sentence got my full attention.
"You killed Sniper."
"You killed that child's father"
Ms. Pauling seemingly argued with the old man that laid on the ground, close to death.
I cover my ears wanting for the voices to stop but it kept circling and repeating around my head.
"You killed Sniper. You killed a child's father"
It repeated, and repeated, and repeated and repeated.
I had enough and my body took control. My body made me run out the open jail-cell door. I heard someone call my name but I did not stop. I ran and ran, getting farther away from the door.
I found a room filled with supplies and stayed there for a while. Hot tears ran down my face.
"The world is a cruel place"
I mutter.
•••• (Timeskip) (3rd POV)
By now, Y/N was all alone in a supply room. Crying. They tried to process everything that has happened today.
How would it affect them?
Arent they just a 14 year old kid?
Y/N sat in silence. The sounds of vents. The sounds of sniffling.
••••Meanwhile••••
Medic brought back Sniper into his little lab. Contemplating.
Was he going to really bring this man back to life? What urged Medic?
Science? Experimenting?
Or perhaps was it the crying child who wept for their father? Did that urge him?
"Yes. Definitely dead." Medic spoke up. He was examining Sniper's body.
"For at least six hours" He finished. He then hummed in frustration.
A dove then landed on Sniper's forehead. The bird cooed.
"Not impossible, Archimedes. Just very very hard" Medic answered his dove, as if Archimedes would reply.
•••• (Sniper POV)
J felt as if all my troubles have been lifted.
I felt as if no pressure was being pressed onto me.
I felt like in heaven.
Oh.
I opened my eyes to see my adoptive parents infront of me. They both were sad but most probably happy to kind of see me.
"Mum, Dad" I said, hugging them.
They both hugged back and let go.
"My son. You must go back. Do not forget your child. They wish to be with you again. They are hoping you arent dead darling." My mom said to me softly. She reminded my about the child I have.
Honestly. I wanted to stay but my responsibilities. I shouldnt leave them all alone.
I contemplated.
"And you left a bunch if @!?/*@$"' down there that need killin'"
"Yer mum's right. A professional wouldnt  quit when there is work to be done. And you are a professional." My dad said.
I smiled a little but my face faltered when I remembered the kiddo.
"Now get back there and give the men who killed you, Hell. " My dad supported.
I scratched my neck and sighed.
"Oi've been a huge jerk ta Y/N lately. Oi have not spent anytime with them oin the past few months, Mum, Dad" I admitted. I frowned and looked at the ground.
"You still have time if you go now, Darlin'" Mom reassured and smiled sweetly at me.
"Okay, Mum. Dad."
Darkness
Thats all I saw
Until..
My body ached but I still got up from a cold table.
I gasped for air as I sat up.
Medic infront of me. Talking, I think.
That utter bastard.
All I heard was loud ringing sound. Was it just me returning from the dead?
I looked at my body. My torso had plenty of sewed cuts. I was not bleeding though. My whole torse and arms, filled with the fixed cuts.
My hearing slowly returned.
"Its like I've alvays said! Zhere's nothing wrong with playing God zo long az jou are-" I grabbed his throat and started choking that blabbering German.
"You utter bloody BASTARD." I cursed. The German looked at me, shooked.
"YOU KILLED ME!" My hand trying to not kill him. I was so close to just letting my anger take over my whole body.
Oh, my poor kid.. What happened to them?
The German then started to defend himself: "Vell, Yes. I also did just bring jou back from the dead, Partial points zhere, Ja?"
He paused.
"Also, technically I didnt 'kill' jou. I vas standing next to the person who killed jou!" He explained briefly.
My anger. My blood boiled from it. "You were smilin' The last thing Oi saw 'fore Oi bled out and DIED was your smug, evil grin!" Remembering his face from before I died.
"I vas just happy to see jou! Zhat's just how I look vhen I smile! See?" Medic then gave me one of his infamous smug smiles.
"How could you join them?" I asked, venom laced my voice.
"Our team disbanded! Zhey needed a Medic! Black Market organz dont march directly out of exotic animalz into jou'r body cavity, mein experimentz require funding!" Medic explained as he raised his hands up a little showing that he was really cooperating with me.
"I feel like ve are glossing over zhe part vhere I defied modern medizine und brought jou back to life!" He pointed out.
I sighed and let go of his neck. I looked around a little bit and scratched my head.
"How long was Oi gone?" I asked
"Twelve Hours! Zhis waz mein greatest triumph!" He exclaimed. He seemed so proud of himself.
"It alzo cost mein employers in zhe neighborhood of 1.3 billion dollarz. Zo try not to get zhot again, Ja?"
"So it was real then, me mun and dad, theyre.. Oh God.. Y/N..
D'yer know whot this means?" I realized.
"It meanz jou hallucinated bevore brain death, Mein Freund! I injected a blue vhale's pineal gland zirectly into jou'r brain stem!" Medic answered as he lifted up a needle and some.. Thing..
"Nah, Mate." I denied and pointed at myself. "It means Oi'm the most dangerous bloody man(n) on this island"
My face faltered as I remembered my kiddo. "Jsh... Poor thing. Oi need to get out with no one catching me somehow" I muttered, almost silently.
" Ah need to find moi kid. Now. "
"Out of zhe question! Jou are in no condition to-"
"You are fucking KIDDING ME." The same big guy who shot me twice earlier said angrily and growled.
"Why. Is. He. ALIVE?"
I looked away from the commotion trying to think of a plan on how to get back to my kid.
Just then Medic asked me for some of my blood, to which I replied with its human blood. He chuckled and looked away shrugging me off now.
Soon that big man and Medic started blabbering about God knows what? I had my chance to escape, so I took it and bolted.
"Aw bloody hell, Y/N, where are you?"
I met up with Spy half way.
•••• (Y/N's POV)
I woke up from a mini nap to the sound of men talking. How did I fall asleep? Oh... Yeah... I think I just did as I cried earlier.
I looked around for a hiding spot and went to the corner of the room, boxes surrounding me so that I was not visible.
Soon, the men opened the door and were chatting. They started to put and pick up some gear. They finally fell silent.
For a bit, all I saw was the men gearing up. When they finished, they started chatting again
"Locked and loaded. You got everything you need?" One of them asked.
"Well, I got bullets in my gun if thats what you mean. But no Ross I dont got everythin that I need." The other, with orange-y hair replied annoyed.
The men went on and on arguing about something. I dont know what. Saying that they hesitaated with taking this job and all that.
I kept listening though, hugging myself.
"Think about it. That old safehouse in Newark? We clear those grenade crates out... It'd make a hell of an orphanage, wouldnt it?" 'Greg' said. Thats his name. From what I heared anyways.
"Are we really doing this Greg?"
"Lets do this."
Maybe those guys are not so bad?
"We are going to have endless supply of kids to-"
I immediately knew what he ment which filled me with fear and disgust. I accidentally yelped a little and hit a box with my foot. A bucket fell down.
Oh. Shit.
Tears pricked my eyes, just thinking about what would happen next.
"What was that Ross?" Greg asked.
I try to shuffle backwards and hoped that I would just sink into the corner. My hands covered my head.
"God has answered us! Look, Ross, a kid!"
(stay away you mf ped-)
I yelped again in fear. "PLEASE! Dont hurt me! Im just 14..." I pleaded and proceeded to huddle onto the corner.
"Well well. Kid's pleadin'" Greg responded to my cries as he yanked me out of the corner with my arm but still fell on the floor.
"Greg, as much as I would LOVE to do this, this is not the time to- We have men to kill here!" Ross reasoned.
"Y-Yeah! Please just.. Go!" I agreed and backed away from them. Tears left my eyes. Hot tears. I backed away from them till I hit a wall, I pleaded.
"Shush Ross. Its been such a long time since I-" Greg said as he grabbed Ross's arm.
"Ross why are you covered in gasoline?"
Just then a clicking sound echoed the room. A small light shimmered in the dark room.
There I saw the same gas masked person who comforted me earlier. A smile grew on my face.
They proceeded to torch down these pedophiles as I walk out the room and waited for my lifesaver to exit the soon-to-be-dust room.
The moment my lifesaver ran out I quickly shut the door and panted.
"T-Thank you so much!" I chirped as I held my hands togeether.
I recieved muffled happiness as a response.
I smiled at them and hugged them.
"ThankyouThankyouThankyouThankyou!!!! You saved my life from them, Gas Mask!" I exclaim as I mentioned the nickname I decided to give them since they did not have a name..
Gas Mask held my hand as we walked out of the building. I slowly got tired from walking and felt sleepy. I didnt sleep this early morning, long trip, lots of drama, lots of...crying, and whatever just happened in that God forsaken room.
I was burnt out. I didnt wanna move anymore.
I sighed.
Gas Mask must have noticed my tired look and expressions. My hand was falling from their hand. They decided to pick me up and gave me a piggy back ride. They looked at me.
I swear. I could feel them smile. I just know it!
I smiled at them and slowly fell asleep on their back. They still continued to carry me, not dropping me. Once.
••••
After quite a bit, I guess. I woke up to a sound of mumbling. It was from the mysterious Gas mask person again.
I grunted and opened my eyes. "Hrr?" I slurred, I just woke up from my nap.
"Hmhmhmm!!" Gas Mask mumbled.
"I dont know what you said but.." I looked up and saw a group of people. Thats where Gas Mask was taking me.
"Oh cool! Other pe-" I cut myself off from shock.
One of the people in the group...
That cant be...
Thats... Thats impossible..
My thoughts swarmed in my head. My hands covering my mouth, my eyes widened, my hair bouncing from gas mask carrying me, and hot tears pooled my eyes once again for the 3rd-4th time today.
"Dad?" I said trying to catch his attention which failed.
"Dad!" I made my voice higher and louder for him to hear.
He looked at the direction of my voice and the true happiness came back. He finally smiled with REAL happiness and relief for the first time in so long!
"Cupcake!" Sniper yelled happily. His voice filled with relief as he ran towards gas mask and I with his arms open.
"Dad! Oh my God. How are you alive right now??? Is this a dream? Am I in heaven? Did I die in that room with the fire?" I panicked, worry filling me as I got down from the gas masked person who carried me all the way here.
"Dream? Heaven? Room? Fire? Died?" Father questioned as he held my shoulders. He kneeled on the ground, he was about my height now, still taller.
"No! Its real, mate! Oi'm bloody alive! Oi missed ya so much" He said with a breathy voice. He sounded like he was about to cry. Not that I wasnt, I had tears rolling down my face as I hugged him.
We both just hugged each other for a while. Filling ourselves with relief that both are alright. I have yet to question his scars. I was just too overjoyed that Dad is here now.
"Oi'm so sorry, cupcake. OI have not been the best father lately. Oi missed your birthday, months ago. Havent made a longer converaation than this for a while now, mate." He spoke, sadness in his voice. He was deeply and truly sorry.
"Its alright. I understood, Dad. What matters is that you are here now." I replied, sniffling.
What a happy, sad and dramatic family reunion.
•••• B O N U S
... "Dad?" "Yes, kiddo?" "Why are you naked? In the outside?" "Err, long story, kid. Ill tell you when you are a little bit older." "Okay." ... "Love you kiddo." "I love you too dad."
••••
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endlich-allein · 3 years ago
Text
Interview with Till about his life: he fought with his father, killed his beloved dog, swam on a wild river and worked on suffering. How Till Lindemann's mind works
"I will finish you off" and why you fought for the German army.
Werner Lindemann wanders around the room, interrupting the silence with strange questions, writing something down. His motive is to get to know his son and make him a friend. But it's complicated. Generational conflict.
"My island of tranquility is shaken every day. The day before yesterday, a guy pulled on my socks because his were torn. Yesterday he didn't put out a single lamp in the house. Now, with voluptuous delight, he spits cherry pits into the cat's fur. Is this grown boy really an adult?"
The apprenticeship in Rostock, where you have to do window production after graduation, is the limit of boredom. Till Lindemann moved to his father in the countryside so that he could forget about the hustle and bustle of the city and not fall under the article for anti-social attitudes. He thought of a new life, in which there was no pointless work, and arranged an attic in his father's house.
In the mornings over coffee, he scolded life that everything went according to schedule. And listened very loudly to music - electronics and metal. My father didn't understand and grumbled: “I matured late. Naturally, I wanted to listen to the music I liked, but I could not get my hands on these records. For example, my father did not understand when I bought the Alice Cooper record for a month's salary.
Werner Lindemann was a children's writer who went through the war.
At the height of his career he disappeared for weeks on literary tours - his fame spread to teachers and librarians across the country. His father pecked at Lindemann for refusing to work and promised to turn him in:
"My willful child. What doesn't fit his standards is rejected as nonsense or crap." So he took a job as a carpenter, where he made shovel cuttings and cart wheels. The head foreman constantly drank vodka during the day, didn't want to be annoyed with questions and addressed the long-haired Lindemann with the nickname: "Mozart!" This suited him.
Werner Lindemann talked about war, hard existence and limitations. For example, about a grenade splinter that remained in his body. Lindemann did not believe in all these stories - but categorically did not accept service, war and murder:
“After that I objected: “I would hide, I would not go to war. Why did you even let yourself be dragged into this? You could have hidden."
And he said: “It didn't work out. They searched for it and it took away."
Then I said: “I would rather go under arrest. Never in my life, I would go to the front line to shoot people. It's against my nature. It would be better if I went to jail."
Much of the time father and son were simply silent, even while watching television.
"He regularly made me feel guilty, to say the least, he placed himself on a pedestal towards me: I shouldn't complain. At your age, I ran barefoot through the stubble, and in my stomach - a potato in a uniform."
The only acceptance is Mike Oldfield's music: "One day my father came to grumble again. At that moment I was listening to Mike Oldfield, and he sat down and said: "That sounds interesting."
For me it was like a quantum leap: my father sits in my room, listens to my music and thinks it was good. Probably because of melancholy. He was sitting in a rocking chair that I made myself - at the time I was working as a carpenter on a farm. I, too, always sat in an armchair, immersed myself in music and smoked hand-rolled cigarettes."
The conflict was intensified by a fight. Lindemann bought a Trabant car, installed speakers in it and tested the sound - loud as usual. “Then my father came and I had to turn off this fucking music. It was kind of loud for him. He was then fiddling around his cases of flowers, and then suddenly the situation escalated. I think he slapped me while I was still in the car.
He leaned toward me and hit me with the back of his hand. I made some bullshit remarks like, "Leave me alone," something like that. That was a provocation to him, and he said: "If you do that again, I'll hit you for real." And I said, "Then you'll get it back. Because you're crazy. Don't you dare to hit me anymore."
And then he hit me with his palm again. He wasn't controlling himself.
He was exalting himself. Instantly he introduced himself as a boxer - he had boxed in the Hitler Youth - and I just... I thought I didn't hit him, I just pushed him away. And then he stood in front of me again, "Come on, I'll finish you, you haven't got a chance!" Somehow. After that, he went up to the attic and threw all my stuff out the window.
It happened over the weekend, my sister was there, a lot of screaming, serious drama. Then I packed my things, put them in the car, went to a friend's house and never went into his house again. At first I lived with this friend, and a week later I bought myself a house in the village."
His father's book is about his son, which the son will only open up after the death of the father.
Lindemann is a late child. He was born when his father was 36. The gap in their relationship was felt in everyday life and perception of the world. Werner Lindemann woke up early in the morning, worked with the circular saw under the windows and did not understand when his son slept until noon after a working week.
Lindemann's parents then lived separately, but kept in touch. Mom worked as a journalist and discussed her texts with his father. "She still lived in Rostock and always came to see him only on weekends. Mostly on Sundays she came back quite early, because she couldn't stand the stress of being with him, either."
In 1988, the book “Mike Oldfield im Schaukelstuhl Notizen eines Vaters" In this book, Lindemann Senior describes the relationship with his son (whom he calls Timm in the book), who settled with him at the age of 18. The book was written in the 80s and laid on the table until the German Democratic Republic and the Federal Republic of Germany were reunited.
Werner Lindemann wanted his son to take up writing too. But this only amused him, although as a child he wrote poetry. At the age of 13, little Till Lindemann and his father were returning home along the bumpy road to Mecklenburg. They talked about career self-determination:
"You should already have thoughts about what you want to become, boy." My answer: "I don't know yet, maybe a fisherman on the high seas."
But immediately, no matter what I said, objections arose: “But then you have to get a certificate of maturity. But then you will be away all the time. But then you won't be able to start a relationship."
There was always a “but”.
At some point it got on my nerves, as usual. And I said: "Worst case scenario, I'll just become a writer.
I still remember how alienated his face became. "And what do you think then, what do I do! It's a very hard job! In fact, it's not even a job, it's a passion. And it's a job that's supposed to be enjoyable."
I said, "I don't know anybody who works with pleasure."
"Yeah, that's the problem. You have to look for a job that gives you pleasure." Then I say again, "But some people never get to choose..." This gigantic discussion happened because I didn't take his profession seriously. At the same time, he was completely lost, funny!"
Lindemann thoughtfully read his father's book, in which he comprehends their relationship, after his death. Faked for hidden anger and indecision. For example, in a situation where their dog Kurt was bitten by a fox. The father was frightened because of rabies: “At the same time, we did not even know whether he was bitten by a fox or not. The father immediately called the huntsman. But I said: no one will enter this courtyard and shoot the dog. I'll do it myself if I really need it. At some point I really had to kill the dog."
Lindemann is not a monster. The animals he fiddled with are an important attribute of childhood. He had an aquarium and hamsters, brought mice and rats home, and was friends with dogs. “Like many children of new buildings, he felt the need for someone alive, in need of love,” said Werner Lindemann. Sometimes the appearance of an animal in the house was surprising:
“This guy will never say what he's up to. He appears on the doorstep at the same time as me. He gets out from his vehicle, throws his coat open and puts a young black shepherd in my hands. "Your Christmas present!"
Till's father is speechless. My son stands before me like the sun's little brother. Touchingly concerned, he directs me into the house, working out a plan for the animal husbandry, accommodation and diet of our new pet housemate.
With confusion, a question flies from my lips, "Wheredid you get the dog from?" "Timm" is gibbering, "Imagine, the mason in the barnyard wanted to hang him, simply wanted to strangle him with a rope, said he was a worthless eater..."
Werner Lindemann died of stomach cancer in 1993, when his son was 30. They didn't finally reconcile, but Till visited him in his last days and was there for him with his mother: "They couldn't be without each other, even though they lived apart. Unreal, but my mother never had another man afterwards. To this day she can't let go of him."
- Not going to the Olympics in Moscow and ending up in the German ghetto
Lindemann had the knowledge and the potential to be a swimmer. And a shyness that pounded harder three days before the competition than concerts in front of crowds of thousands. "I know how difficult it is to develop willpower and stamina and instill those attributes. In the GDR this was instilled in us by coaches and so-called functionaries."
Lindemann came to swimming at the age of eight and devoted his entire youth to the sport. He would get up for training at five in the morning and pass out in the evening. His grandmother watched him from the stands. At a competition in Leipzig she shouted at the coach, who told Lindemann off for a poor result. The grandmother took the coach by the ear and said: "How do you talk to my grandson?"
Sports tightened up his upbringing and developed self-discipline. “Drilling - probably the boy has already received this experience as a swimmer,” Lindemann's father wrote. - Once he had to take second place in a competition, but by no means first place. Of course, he got carried away, forgot about it, became the first, thanks to which he received a shouting for indiscipline. And whenever he lost in the future, his coach would torture him at practice for a long time and yelled at him: "Even if you win, you're not a winner yet!"
Lindemann swam the 1.5 km freestyle and could have gone to the 1980 Olympics in Moscow. Everything was ruined when he left the hotel without permission during a competition in Florence: "I didn't want to run, but just wanted to look at the city. Cars, bikes, girls. I was caught and kicked out of the team, but then I didn't give the required results either."
Lindemann competed at the European Junior Championships, but did not go any higher. After the story in Florence, his career in sport slipped away. Perhaps an abdominal injury influenced his departure. Lindemann is gone, but he doesn't yearn: "I was relatively young. There were no good [memories] left. I was glad it was over."
"The hardest part was getting back to normal. I fell into a real hole. My home was no longer a sports school, but a ghetto in Rostock. Now I stood out through drinking and fighting. I used to be surrounded only by beautiful ladies who were interested in swimming. Now I had fierce women standing in front of me asking, "How come you don't drink?" When I was shy about approaching a girl, it was interpreted as: "Are you gay?"
Lindemann now works with a coach and swims a few kilometers before his tours to get in shape: "When I exercise, I feel a certain lightness - not only physically, but also mentally. I just feel better. The main problem is staying in shape. That's where self-discipline comes into play. Teeth grinding is important."
- Three weeks in the wild and loneliness as a creative tool
Emotionally, concerts = sports:
"How do I go on tour? Hungry. And happy. It is good to compare concerts with sport. You don't want to do both at first. You don't want to go on stage. You don't want to go to the pool. You don't want to go to the boxing ring. It all happens with reluctance. It has to be accepted somehow, that's life: spring, summer, fall, winter.
When it's done, winter's gone, the blooming begins, greenery appears, it gets bright, and you start to get a taste for it. When it's over, you feel happy. Then the body produces a sea of chemistry, a lot of happiness hormones. I think the body rewards itself."
The stage, like sports, is an embarrassment, but a necessity. Lindemann wore dark glasses in order to collect fewer views from the audience. Therefore, a couple of steps before the water, he looked at the pool with a shiver. You need to cope with yourself in order to open up to new emotions.
Lindemann's gut requires solitude and moderate solitude. This is the point:
“Loneliness is always good for a creative push - you drink a glass of wine and you feel even shitier. Art is not complete without suffering; art exists to compensate for suffering."
With his friend Joey Kelly, Lindemann spent three weeks on the Yukon River. They paddled through the wilderness in a kayak for eight to 10 hours each and lived in a tent. Lindemann didn't take a tape recorder with him, so he transferred the lyrics wandering in his head on paper.
They were catching inspiration and atmosphere:
"There were times when we wouldn't say a word for hours, but then: look there, look there! It was breathtakingly beautiful. These relatively fast-changing panoramas and skies, layers of clouds, the colors.
Except for a few bears and wolves, it's hard to see anyone else out there, it's exhilarating. Along the way we saw two hunters setting traps. No one else.
I grew up in the countryside, and I have a very strong connection to nature. I love fishing, hunting. It's an archaic experience that I like to revisit over and over again. When I'm in the city for too long, I start to miss it."
To recreate situations in the Yukon, Lindemann and Kelly trained for nine months on the Rhine river in Germany because of its liveliness.
"We went down the Rhine to where the transport ships create huge bow waves. If we hadn't had a coach with us, we probably would have been sunk by the side wave impact already during our first attempt," Lindemann said.
Together with Kelly, he had four sessions with two coaches and swam from Cologne to Koblenz [more than 100 kilometers by car]. Lindemann trained separately each week on the lakes in Mecklenburg. It's both physically challenging and savage identical to being natural.
In 2015, Till started his solo project Lindemann. On the album Skills In Pills, the song Yukon was released, in which the lyrics appeared first, and then the music.
- "My lyrics come from pain rather than desire."
The country boy is big and not much of a talker. That's how the Rammstein members saw him at the start, when they were hanging out at home. "He looked cool, like a big peasant talking one sentence an hour," keyboard player Christian "Flake" Lorenz recalled. - He always had food and vodka. He'd just steal a couple of ducks somewhere and cook them on a tray. And then, frozen like in Sleeping Beauty, there were people lying in corners and on trunks in his house."
Lindemann loves and appreciates home gatherings. This came from my father, who always had guests. “In my opinion, this is the little bit that I inherited from him. Throwing parties and gathering people. Throwing parties and getting people together. He just enjoyed being a good host. The house was always full of guests from Leipzig, from Rostock, foreign guests, even from Kazakhstan.
It was always exciting for him. He stood at the stove, cooked, bought an abundance of wine, and there was always a fire in the garden. At some point he stopped drinking, then he left the party at 21:00 and the whole company continued to feast. And in the morning he got up at four, cleaned and tidied up."
Till Lindemann is about self-digging, overcoming and childish shyness, which is covered by a pumped-up figure of a swimmer. This is how Lindemann decrypts himself:
• “And I really am like a big child - ill-mannered, but harmless. People think that I am always strong, explosive. This is not true. I am sensitive and easily hurt, but in love I am romantic and passionate."
• “At the very beginning, you sit somewhere in a dark room, open a bottle of wine and figure out how to make the lyrics popular with the music. At first you only have a vague idea of ​​what it could be.
And when, three years after recording, mixing, and more mixing, developing the artwork, all this nonsense, then you stand on stage, and what you came up with then really works, when you manage to get 20 thousand people to raise their hands, then you experience incredible sensations."
• “Art is a kind of therapy.
When I feel that something is arising inside me, domineering and is most often dark, I need to give it a way out, otherwise it will simply crush me. So destruction and self-destruction are the two pillars on which my creativity is based.
But everyone chooses this for himself.
• “My lyrics arise from feelings and dreams, but still more from pain than by desire. I often have nightmares, and I wake up at night sweating, as I see terrible bloody scenes in my dreams. My lyrics are a kind of valve for the lava of feelings in my soul.
We are all struggling to hide behind good manners and outward decency, but in fact we are governed by instincts and feelings: hunger, thirst, horror, hatred, the desire for power and sex. Of course, there is also additional energy in us - this is love. Without it, all human feelings would fade away."
- "When you're constantly living someone else's life, it's very hard to get back into your own skin. I like that in principle, but sometimes you start to get confused - are you out of a role or not yet. You're already Till, or you're still a homicidal maniac."
- "I hate the noise. I hate the chatter. I expose myself to it, which is pure masochism. And then I have to protect myself from it. Noise makes you crazy. You die in it."
• “I think there is no God. And if he is and actually allows all the misfortunes on this earth, then he must punish me along with other sufferings. I will not pray to such a god."
This is how the members of Rammstein see Till - flexible and with a split personality:
Guitarist Paul Landers: "Till is so good that when you let him know that his lyrics should go in a different direction, the very next day he brings a new version of the song."
Guitarist Richard Kruspe: “He's a hell of an extreme man. He dives very deeply into situations where I cannot follow him. Everything he does is very extreme; I don't know anyone who does it. "
Drummer Christoph Schneider: "I would not want to be in Till's shoes: his soul is tormented by doubts and contradictions, he is equally a moralist and a monster."
June 1, 2021 - Translate by Lindemann Belgium
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triptuckers · 3 years ago
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Two Homes (part 2/7) - Nikolai Lantsov
Request: nope Pairing:  Nikolai Lantsov x reader  Summary:  after receiving an invitation to a ball in os alta, you have no intention of attending. however your father has other plans Warnings: none Word count:  1.6K A/N: part two of the mini nikolai series! enjoy reading :) PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART TAG LIST (two homes and/or all grishaverse fics): @godsofwriting @im-constantly-fangirling @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15 @dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha add yourself to my tag lists here 
You wake up to the sound of your father pounding on the door. You don’t even have to get up to check if you’re right, the servants would never knock so loudly. Especially not this early in the morning. Did you forget something? An important date? Was today a birthday or anniversary?
While you’re still wondering if you’ve missed something, your father barges through the door, completely ignoring your privacy. He’s beaming at you, and you can’t remember the last time you’ve seen him this pleased about anything.
He doesn’t even wait for you to acknowledge him. Instead, he pulls out an envelope similar to the one you received yesterday night. You look at the double eagle seal on the back of it, and force yourself not to roll your eyes.
‘We’re going to Os Alta!’ announces your father. ‘You have been personally invited by King Nikolai to attend a ball!’
‘I’m not going.’ you say as you lay back down. ‘I got a letter yesterday, and I already made your choice.’
‘Nonsense!’ he says. ‘This is too good an opportunity to miss. Now get up, we leave within the hour.’
Just as you open your mind to protest, three servants enter your room, carrying an elaborate new dress. Before you can say anything else, your father has left the room and the servants start to dress you and do your hair. 
Barely half an hour after you were rudely woken up by your father, you are out the door and on your way to Ravka.
You’re silent as you follow your father on his way to the docks. You had tried to convince the servants to let you wear a pair of pants instead of your heavy dress, but they told you your father wanted you to look your best when you left for Ravka. 
So now you’re trying not to trip on your dress as you miserably follow your father. Maybe you could jump off the ship and swim back to Ketterdam. But you fear your heavy dress might sink you to the bottom of the sea before you could make it back. 
As you get closer to the docks, you see two other merchant’s daughters who had received an invitation as well, and are happily chatting away. They seem very happy about it, which only causes you to get more annoyed. To top it all off, they don’t even spare you a glance as they walk past you.
When you get to the docks, you see a small crows has assembled to see you off. News travelled fast in Ketterdam, especially the news of three merchant daughters who were invited by the king of Ravka. You wished the docks were empty. All this attention was not something you wanted. 
You look at the crowd as you board the ship. Among them, you spot a few of the crows. They wink at you and all have smug looks on their faces. Apparently, they thought you changed your mind.
But you shrug and lightly shake your head after pointing at your father, indicating you didn’t have a choice. You wave at them as the ship sails away. Unlike the others who are looking out at sea, you keep looking at Ketterdam until it disappears from the horizon. You barely left, and you couldn’t wait to go back already.
The trip to Ravka takes a couple of days, and when you finally get off the ship, you travel for another few days by carriage before you finally make it to Os Alta. The others are looking out the window of the carriage, pointing at everything they see. 
You couldn’t even bring yourself to get excited or curious. Os Alta looked like any city in your eyes. All you wanted to do, was to go home to Ketterdam. The last thing you needed was to attend a ball. It all seemed so ridiculous. A waste of time and money.
But when you’re dreading something, time seems to go faster, instead of slowing down. The day of the ball creeps closer and way too soon, servants enter the room you’re staying in to help you get dressed.
All day long, you had been thinking of ways you could get out of the ball. You had tried leaving the Palace grounds, but if you wanted to do so, you’d need to be accompanied by a handful of armed guards. You could fight, but not fight off five tall guards with arms. 
Climbing over the fence was not an option either. They were too tall, and you couldn’t find a spot where no one could see you.
Even if you did find a way to sneak out of the grounds, you’d still have to deal with your father. Even though you were far away from Ketterdam, he still followed you around like a shadow. Probably because you had made it very clear you didn’t even want to be there. 
You even tried to pretend to be sick. But your father had called for a healer, who told you that you were in perfect health. You tried to pretend you fell down the stairs and couldn’t possibly dance all night long. But again, your father had called for a healer who confirmed your good health.
So, you had no choice but to attend the ball. No matter how much you dreaded it, there would be no escaping it. 
When you’ve finished dressing, you feel like you might fall over because of the weight of the jewels. Apparently they thought it would be best to look like a shiny insect. Or maybe they just thought the weight of the jewels would prevent you from running away. 
Your hair is put up with more jewels, and they had yet again refused to let you wear pants. Instead, you wear a simple but elegant silk gown. They wanted you to wear heels as well, but you had told them if they wouldn’t let you wear pants, the least they could do is have you pick your own shoes. You were pretty sure if you had to walk on heels all night long, your feet would be numb by the end of the night.
Your father had put on his best suit and is beaming with pride as you make your way to the ball room. He introduces you to anyone he walks into, keeping a firm grip on your hand on his arm, so you couldn’t slip away. Your cheeks already hurt from smiling so much. 
You were told at the beginning of the ball, everyone would be introduced to the king, and the ball would start. Everyone else was excited to meet him, but you couldn’t care less. Your father had done his best at controlling you his entire life. And now, if he had it his way again, he’d marry you off to some royal you had never met.
Sure, you heard the stories. According to them, Nikolai was a war hero, charming, handsome. The boy king loved by his people. You didn’t care for stories. You wanted to go home, back to Ketterdam. Have a drink with the Crows, laugh at their jokes, play cards. 
No matter how much you loathe the palace, your jaw still drops when you enter the massive ball room. It’s elaborately decorated and you have to admit, it’s gorgeous. You didn’t see a lot of this in Ketterdam. Still, you’d rather be in the Crow Club where the floor always seems to be sticky. And you keep looking around you, still trying to find a way out.
You’re waiting for everyone else to arrive and soon, the people around you start to move as everyone starts to introduce themselves to the king. And that’s when you see it. A door to a balcony, slightly open. You take a look at the people around you. 
All of their eyes seem fixed on the king, your father as well. He’s got a weird sort of smile on his face as he looks at the king in the distance. It’s like he totally forgot you were there. It’s now or never. You hang back a little and slip between the people, making for the balcony door.
You open it and quietly slip onto the balcony. The cool air outside feels more welcoming than anything else you’ve encountered on your trip to the palace. It’s not a big balcony, and you’re still visible from inside the ball room.
But the ground is not that far, you notice as you look over the edge of the balcony. You’ve once jumped from a windowsill about the same height as the balcony, when you were on a job with Jesper. You take another look over your shoulder. Your father hadn’t even noticed your absence. 
You take a deep breath and swing your legs over the balcony. Another deep breath, and you take the leap.
You had been right, it wasn’t that far. Still, you land rather clumsily. You’re not used to wearing silk dresses, and curse softly as you try to get up without tripping on it. Once you’re standing, you look up at the balcony, then ahead. In the distance, you see the palace gardens. They look beautiful in the dim light of the setting sun.
Smiling to yourself, you start walking towards them. 
Meanwhile up in the ballroom, your father had reached the king. He’s hopelessly looking around him. All eyes are on him.
‘I swear she was right here, she must have slipped away. She was right here, I’m telling you!’ he says.
Most of the guests are sending him disapproving looks, but king Nikolai is the only one who looks amused.
A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit
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maskyartist · 3 years ago
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*kicks door down, scatters my Augustus thoughts everywhere* PSPSPSPPSPSPSPSPSPSPS AUGUSTUS AQUATO STANS CMERE I GOT CONTENT FOR U
to make a long story short, it's 5am and im vibrating with these disjointed ideas i got for Augustus' mindscape so yall get to hear me ramble about it :D it probably wont make much sense? but these are super rough concepts that im just puttin down to see how i vibe with it (and maybe get feedback if yall end up throwin asks my way just sayin just sayin i will ramble MORE if u enable me and i'll do it for FREE)
so yeah enjoy my nonsensical ramblings about the only man i'd trust with my drink ever
a quick note, all of this is post-Psychonauts 2 so expect spoilers :D
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okay so i dont have a catchy name for Augustus's mental world just yet but im considering "Augustus' Anomalies" or somethin i'll get back on that anyways-
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i so badly want Augustus's mind to be a walk down memory lane. the whole place is like extreme platforming, think those super hard final levels in mario or somethin, so yeah this is Raz's home here he's gettin all over the place so easy. the idea is that the further you get, the more you find his repressed memories and feelings, things he's pushed down until he's forgotten so he doesn't need to face them. he doesnt have time for that with 5 kids, his wife, and his Nona around! he's a busy man!
but now? after everything? he only has time to think on his hands. and it's making it much harder to keep it all down, especially since he's just started remembering everything.
in comes Raz (and probably a few others. maybe the family too? or just Trouble Trio i aint sure) offering to do a mental wellness check on his dear ol dad, to clean up a bit and help him think a bit clearer
and to everyones shock, Augustus agrees, offering his mind for Razputin to explore as he pleases. when he's asked he just smiles. it's sad and tired.
"I don't want to hide things." he admits with a shake of his head. "Not after so much was hidden from me. My son deserves better."
so into the mental world we go! :D
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we start in front of a small blue tent, similar to Raz starting in a dark room with just the Caravan in front of him when he explored his own mind, and going through reveals a whole new world. its full of bright lights and colorful displays, rides and games and everything you'd expect to see at a circus. a properly funded circus at least.
however, that's below you. in actuality, you've spawned on a rather narrow platform with a tightrope in front of you leading to Mental Augustus who sits atop it with little issue. talking to him reveals that he's not...entirely "all there". he's still very much Augustus, but there's parts of him missing. in terms of design, he's completely monochromed (and maybe wearing a mask he cant take off? im futzin as we speak) and to bring him back to full color you gotta find these missing parts of him.
there's three parts missing, kinda similar to Cassie's level. but unlike Cassie's level, these arent archetypes that Augustus needs back. they're memories he genuinely can't find on his own. the ones that were either repressed by the Astralathe or by Augsutus's own subconscious to prevent him from feeling more hurt then he already is.
the missing parts are
- Happiness
- Anger
and - Sadness
at least so far. im still feelin it out.
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each section is held in it's own large looking tent that is slowly leading to a Big Top in the center. the level is made up of two sections, a "ground area" with concession stands and a bunch of figments and some mental constructs of people like his family, random carnies he's met when he was in Grulovia, and even some of the psychonauts :D only Milla, Sasha, and Oleander tho. they're the only ones that are important to him atm.
(Milla and Sasha are viewed rather nicely while Oleander seems to be getting the cold shoulder so....Augustus isn't over the whole "trying to kill my son and making him sneeze out his brain" thing quite yet)
the other part is a "sky area" or rather an area that's entirely off the ground, with tight jumps and carefully placed tightropes and trapeze placed all over to get around. on the ground you'll find the Emotional Baggage while in the air you'll find their Tags (to show that Augustus would rather repress his emotions then fully recognize them and accept them yknow?)
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first area's Happiness. the tent is seemingly from the early years of the Flying Aquato's Circus, very well made and well decorated as you head inside. there's a performance going on and your job is to help it move along smoothly since it seems they're missing a few people...
you help set up some balance balls, tie together some tightropes, and adjust the spotlights while the show goes on under you. once everything's in place, the show finishes with a human pyramid which is topped by a young Augustus colored yellow. he smiles all broad and gap-toothed and waves at you until you jump on and land on his hands to finish the show properly
(if you look close, you can see the Gzar and a young Gristol watching the show from these theater seats. they look out of place in the tent, as if they're too....nice looking to be there. but they're there, and they look bored as hell.)
once it's over, Happiness (as we'll call him) goes over to Raz and asks him to take him back now. the show's over, after all! he can't just stay here forever when there's so much more to see! like Bob's Bottles you end up essentially teleporting back to the tightrope the Mental Augustus is still sat at. Happiness essentially tackles Augustus and the man laughs before hugging the young version of himself. a bit cautiously but it gets easier once he actually commits to it. Happiness melts away and Augustus gains some color, but not all of it.
first area complete :D
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aaaand thats all i got rn. unfortunately. this is a super rough idea rn, and it'll be polished a lot before im satisfied with it in some kinda way, but i have a lot of thoughts
so tldr ; Augustus' mind is about digging up old repressed memories, good bad and ugly, and learning to accept them as part of you. even if they hurt, it's worse to ignore it all and let it simmer.
i also would like Maligugustus to be a final boss? but idk m thinkin.
if yall actually read all this im very impressed???? and if u have thoughts on this stuff definitely send em my way cause i have ideas for the Second and Third area and THATS where the angst is gonna hit i assure u
...anyways imma go get some sleep
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azucanela · 4 years ago
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HOLDING YOUR DRINK [GENDER NEUTRAL HEADCANNONS]
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FT. AKAASHI KEIJI, IWAIZUMI HAJIME, SUGAWARA KOUSHI, TSUKISHIMA KEI
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HAIKYUU!! MASTERLIST | 1K CELEBRATION MASTERLIST
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SUMMARY: In which Y/N needs someone to hold their drink. 
WORD COUNT: 1.9k
WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, mild violence, based on the tik tok trend, one curse word, nothing explicitly mentioned but be weary of the implications of drug use and such [lmk if there are any others i should include]
A/N: this is tik tok’s fault but yeah kjashdkjash
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AKAASHI KEIJI
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HEADCANNONS
ah. sweet, sweet, pretty boy akaashi
always pretty, but sweet? haha... thats about to change.
this is probably bokuto’s fault, akaashi feels the need to supervise him though, especially after that one time he left him unattended at a party and he jumped off the roof into the pool and nearly drowned because he forgot he could swim
yeah.
akaashi isn’t one for pda aside from the basic stuff like hand holding and maybe the occasional kiss on the cheek and he knows you are perfectly independent and thats all good and dandy, but even when hes being social and talking to his friends he still has one eye on you and one eye on bokuto
when you finally make your way over to him, asking him to hold your drink while you use the restroom, he simply nods to you, takes your drink in one hand, and covers it with the other, nonchalantly.
to say that akaashi, your boyfriend, is shocked when a random person comes up to him claiming to be your boyfriend comes up to him and asking for your drink, would be an understatement
almost instantly he calls out, “bokuto.” his voice is loud and firm enough that bokuto is looking in his direction almost instantly, ceasing his dancing on top of a table. when akaashi waves him over, he gives him a look of confusion but ends up coming over to where akaashi and this stranger is
and he enters the conversation hearing the stranger say, “im their boyfriend and they asked me to get their drink now hand it over.”
bokuto, naturally, is confused goes to say, “wait i thought y/n was—”
“bokuto.” akaashi silences him with a look, extending the hand with your drink to bokuto, much to the chagrin of the stranger and only serving to further confuse bokuto, though he accepts the drink nonetheless.
akaashi wordlessly takes bokutos freehand and places it on top of the drink to cover the top, before turning to the guy, who had started complaining
and then punching him in the face
never in his life could bokuto recall a time in which he was scared of akaashi
until now
akaashi turns back around to bokuto, taking your drink from his hand and shielding it once more, as though he DIDN’T just resort to violence. 
you’ll never know this happened until one day someone talks about how akaashi is the calmest and kindest person ever and bokuto is like HA REMEMBER THAT TIME YOU PUNCHED THAT GUY CLAIMING TO BE Y/N’S BOYFRIEND IN THE FACE?
gosh darn bokuto that was supposed to be a SECRET you SNITCH
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IWAIZUMI HAJIME
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HEADCANNONS
HASDHJGAD
THESE PPL GOTTA BE DUMB TO EVEN TRY LMAO
oikawa probably dragged iwaizumi to another party or something and iwa-chan over here was like bruh there is no way in hell that i am the only person that is going to be sober while dealing with a DRUNK oikawa, thats too much to handle alone
so if oikawa doesn’t make you go, then iwaizumi will, for his sanity please agree to go. he’d never force you but PLEASE, he can’t do this alone.
honestly iwaizumi is the perfect person to hold your drink ngl, he’s definitely sober at whatever party he does to, not the type to drink your drink on accident or on purpose, our boy iwa is perfect per usual
you probably tell him you gotta use the bathroom and ask him to hold you’re drink and he’s like, “yeah, of course. take your time, i got it.” and then you leave, he is now standing alone, leaning against a wall. he’s holding your drink, with his palm covering the top while scrolling through his phone with his freehand AND watching oikawa to ensure he doesn’t accidentally decapitate himself because iwa MULTITASKS
a few people probably try to hit on him and he’s like no <3 im in a committed relationship have a nice day <3 
and then some random guy approaches
now iwaizumi is a very intimidating person so im shocked this person had the BALLS to even try but they start spewing nonsense about how you told them to come retrieve you drink from him 
at some point the guy probably implies that you’ll be going home with him and thats when iwaizumi sees oikawa passing by, releasing a laugh before calling out for Oikawa, “hey! shittykawa come here!”
oikawa is pouting but he comes over and sees the guy and is like, “oh whos this iwa chan?
and iwaizumi is laughing again as he gestures to the guy and goes, “apparently the guy whos taking y/n home.”
and then he goes, “do me a favor and hold this oikawa.” and oikawa is handed your drink, something that raises questions in him because why iwa chan?
he doesn’t have time to ask of course, because iwaizumi has already rammed his fist into the stranger’s face, effectively knocking him into the floor. ah the power of the ace of aoba johsai :)
he definitely would’ve kept going, threatening the guy as he wrecked his face until the message got through his thick skull, had you not arrived and witnessed the mans bloody nose, stopping iwaizumi from continuing
“he’s not worth it.”
“no, he’s not. but you are.”
i am in love with iwaizumi lol
anywho
you’re drink is very safe with the one and only iwaizumi hajime. 
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SUGAWARA KOUSHI
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HEADCANNONS
IM CANT BREATHE THIS MANS
y’all are visiting home since you’ve been off at uni for quite some time now, the gang is back together, daichi, asahi, kiyoko and a few others y’all met through volleyball in high school
you and suga have probably been in a relationship since you left high school, because it took y’all three years to figure yourselves out. its basically just reminding each other to ya know... take care of yourself mentally and physically
and of course, now that you’re all of age, you go to a club, maybe a college party that a friend of a friend is having
regardless, suga is always going to have an eye on you, he’s gonna know your exact location at all times. though he isn’t going to follow you around or anything, everyone once in a while he’ll drop by, hand on the small of your back while you talk to some old friends—or new ones idk maybe you’re an extrovert. he’s checking on you though! he asks if you’ve eaten, have you been drinking water, is there anything you need, are you feeing okay?
then he’ll press a kiss to your cheek and leave to go hang out with daichi and suga, they’re all just sitting on the couch, maybe with some new friends too, maybe with old ones from his karasuno days 
you come over, all like, “babe would you mind holding my drink while i go to the bathroom?”
he’s like yes ofc ofc, and he takes your drink, probably sits with his elbow resting on his knee, holding the drink between his legs with his other hand over the top of the drink. he’s pretty subtle about it, you wouldn’t notice as he just nonchalantly takes the drink from you and carries on the conversation that there’s a small furrow in his brow because why is the world like this, you shouldn’t need someone to hold your drink
everyone would honestly forget the drink isn’t his
now if someone happened to come over claiming to be your friend or maybe even a potential hook up— something sugawara would laugh at as your boyfriend, probably pretending to be intrigued by the idea before revealing who he is — well let me just say... 
a lot of people forget that out lovely mom friend and resident king, sugawara koushi, is also so very very very chaotic person.
which is why i KNOW when you hand sugawara that drink, if anyone even TRIES to take it from him, to ask him for it claiming you sent them, he will bark. suga WILL bark, he learnt how to just for this situation. he will also hiss. 
moral of the story: i trust sugawara koushi with my drink
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TSUKISHIMA KEI 
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HEADCANNONS
rip to whoever thought TRYING was a good idea
anywho
tsukishima did not want to go to this party, you probably dragged him to said party, and he only went because its you that dragged him to the party. 
he’s probably vibing alone in a corner or something, maybe engaging in conversation on occasion if someone he tolerates happens to be at the party, otherwise he’s stuck to you like glue, just following you around, arm over your shoulder, shameless pda as he wraps his arms around you and lays his head in the crook of your neck as you talk to your friends
then you’re like lmao babe free me i need to use the bathroom, also watch my drink, and he’s like okay FINE be that, and he takes your drink and watches as you make your way through the crowd of people
he’ll probably wait by the bathroom for your return because ew people he doesn’t want to have to socialize— especially not alone. and if anyone tries to socialize, hit on him, anything, he’s really just gonna straight up make it clear that he is not in the mood
it doesn’t really occur to him to cover the drink until some random person comes up to him
claiming to be a friend of yours and having come to collect your drink for you
there are several issues here, first of all, tsukishima was fairly sure he knew all your friends and he did not recognize this stranger at all, and he was pretty sure if he asked their name he wouldn’t recognize that either
secondly, tsukishima knows you would’ve come to get not only your drink but him because he made it very clear that if you abandon him at the party to fend for his own he would be rather unhappy
so when tsukishima questions the person some more and realizes his suspicions are correct, they are in fact; a liar. he laughs. he genuinely laughs because wow YOU THOUGHT you could fool him?
idiot.
he’s covering your drink with his palm— because he isn’t going to set it down? that’s just plain dumb, and tsukishima isn’t dumb. no, he’s covering it with his palm, and then using his free hand to grab this stranger by the neck and slam them into the wall he had just been leaning on because he needs to make it very clear that lmao this is NOT okay :D
this guys feet almost lift off the ground but tsukishima probably towers over the stranger because he’s a tall guy, and suddenly he’s threatening them, telling them that if they ever try something like that again they won’t be leaving the party.
“tsukki?”
hey look its you! 
tsukishima offers the strange one final, warning of a smile, before patting their shoulder awkwardly and stepping away from them to turn to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder before nonchalantly just saying, “lets go. this is lame. oh— and here’s your drink.”
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tags:
@therainroguefanfiction​ @beifongsss​[girl idk if you even asked to be here but like now you are bc i forgot akjshdsajkdbs oops] @iwaizoom​ @shawkneecaps​
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flamehairedwritings · 4 years ago
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Chocolates
Characters: Chief Jim Hopper x Reader
Words: 1k
Rating: M
A/N: Hello! Welcome to the fourth day of my 7 Days of Valentine’s Drabbles, the 2021 edition!
This story once again contains swearing and two idiots in love, and is inspired by When Harry Met Sally, because if the D*ffer Brothers can rip off 80s movies then so can I. Enjoy!
Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites; credit does not count.
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Chocolates
The slamming shut of the Blazer door echoes across the quiet cul-de-sac, followed swiftly by keys jangling as they are shoved into a pocket and the pounding of boots on wooden steps as they are taken two at a time.
Reaching the top, Jim Hopper clears his throat, takes a breath, and then knocks sharply on the olive-green front door three times.
Quiet.
He's about to knock again when, through the small frosted glass, he spies a blurry shape shuffling closer. The door is yanked open, and he comes face to face with your weeping, crumbling features.
“Hi,” you greet shakily, voice cracking.
“Hey,” he answers quietly, frozen to the spot because suddenly I don’t know what the hell to do here.
Sniffing good and hard, you wave a hand behind you as you step to the side. “Come in.”
He steps through the door immediately, standing awkwardly with his bulky ‘Chief’ jacket on, the first one he happened to grab on his way out, and a huge, purple box of chocolates in his hands. Hopper watches you as you close the door, your hand retreating back into the huge sleeve of your fluffy, pale blue dressing gown before you turn to him.
He feels so stupid and lost as you look at him, your chin wobbling slightly, and then he remembers his life-line.
“Brought you chocolate,” he mumbles, holding the box out slightly.
Your gaze drops to it and you sniff again. “That’s... That’s s-so s-sweet, Hop’.”
It’s horrible, actually, he thinks, because he watches in horror as you suddenly dissolve into tears, barely able to take a breath. Before he can stop himself, though, he’s reaching out and placing a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently.
“Hey, hey, what happened?”
You’d called fifteen minutes before, barely able to get your words out just as you try to now, and all he’d managed to decipher was, “...c-come over?” He’d headed for the door instantly.
“... H-He... G-God...”
His hand falls from your shoulder as you turn, shuffling under the archway into your living room. Following, he hovers by the fireplace as you plop down onto the couch amongst a pile of crumpled tissues. Dragging another one out of a box, you wipe at your face and nose as he stands there, still clutching the box of chocolates.
“... H-He’s getting married, the liar.” Your voice cracks on the insult, and it softens some of the rage that instantly builds inside him, before he realises he has no idea who you’re talking about.
“... Who?”
“D-Darren,” you hiccup, sniffing. “H-Him and A-Alison. He called me earlier a-and invited me to the wedding. B-But he always said he never w-wanted to g-get married...” You take in a shuddering breath as you shrug, looking so utterly helpless that his heart twists. “... I should’ve known. I should’ve known. H-He just didn’t want to m-marry me, God, I’m such a-an i-idiot...”
“Hey, hey, woah...” All awkwardness and uncertainty leaves his body and mind as he moves towards you, setting the chocolates down on the coffee table and sitting at your side. A large hand settles over both of yours gripping at a tissue, his lips pressing together as your watery eyes lift to meet his. “... You’re not an idiot, okay?”
“I am,” you sniff, “I t-trust people t-too much.”
“You want to see the good in people,” he counters, squeezing your hands lightly.
You scoff, the sound coming out more like a sob as you sit back, head leaning against the back of the couch. His hand remains on yours as he leans back, too, still facing you.
“I p-pressured him,” you mumble, sniffing.
“You told him what you wanted.”
“I talked to h-his friends too much.”
“You wanted to get to know them.”
“I made h-him do something e-every weekend.”
“You wanted to spend time with him.”
“I-I came on t-too s-strong.”
He doesn’t realise his thumb has started stroking back and forth across your knuckles. “You love people with all your heart.”
Your head has turned towards his, cheeks wet, teeth biting at your lower lip as you sniff. “Well, I hate it.”
“Don’t,” he murmurs instantly, his other hand resting on top of your head lightly, his thumb stroking gently. “It’s one of your best qualities.”
You scoff again, a tear dripping down your cheek. “Even though I’m stubborn—”
“In a good way.”
“— and d-difficult—”
“Assertive.”
“— and irritate you?”
His eyebrows raise slightly, thumbs continuing to stroke lightly, and a corner of his mouth lifts. “You don’t irritate me. Well, you do, but I can put up with it.”
You hiccup a laugh and his smile widens. Moving his hand from yours, he gently wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumb, watching you as you blow out a breath.
“You’ll be okay,” he murmurs, and you nod.
“I know. It’s just... shitty,” you mumble.
“I know.”
His hand returns to yours, giving them a pat. “You want me to open up that box of chocolates?”
“Hell yes.”
Chuckling, his hand moves from your head and he makes to reach over when you catch his hand, lacing your fingers together. Meeting your gaze again, he holds it as you squeeze his hand.
“Thanks, Hop’, for this.”
Hopper returns the squeeze, a corner of his mouth lifting higher.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Your hand drops from his as he gestures at the TV that you didn’t bother to turn off when the doorbell rang.
“What’re you watchin’?”
You sniff. “Some action film that doesn’t make sense.”
“Perfect.”
As he pulls his jacket off and grabs the chocolate, you turn the volume of the TV up before settling your feet on the coffee table. Unwrapping the chocolates, Hopper settles the box against one arm so you can both dive into it, eyes now glued to the nonsensical action occurring on the screen. He’s just starting to get into the paper-thin plot when he suddenly feels your head rest against his shoulder.
He doesn’t move as you get comfortable, sniffles a thing of the past now, your hand gently resting on his arm, just above the box. Biting at the inside of his lower lip, he manages to stop the smile that desperately wants to break out across his features.
Instead, he just sits quietly with you, watching the film. And after a few minutes, he gently rests his head against yours.
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spikeinthepunch · 2 years ago
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Cryptolalia - Tethered transportation
these kinds of blogs about Cryptolalia will eventually go on my website, but i dont have a dedicated hub on my site yet for OC/story stuff yet so.
but yea anyways, i dont want to be hiding all my brainstorming behind patreon (if i ever go into proper production w something like a comic etc then yes) and i thought itd be nice to just throw down all my current exploding ideas.
I have many many things on my mind but for some reason one of the things ive developed most through my last recent years of thinking is transportation infrastructure & vehicles in Cryptolalia. Remember that this story is based on Earth, and is basically like... “ideal changes” and alternate timeline nonsense of what we currently have. The first thing I wanted to make strikingly different in the world was transportation, since the changes that happen in the timeline are old enough that the course of history regarding cars could be totally different. SO lets get into it!
(do note im not super knowledgeable on logic of science and cars and stuff, a lot of this is my own theories and fun for just having a futuristic and alternate Earth setting)
I would love to draw these out at some point too, but I am so not into vehicle design... so idk when that may happen.
But anyways, I have come up with various ideas regarding transportation in this world, mostly out of spite for what we have on Earth in regards to roads and parking lots. The Earth has basically been molded by Elias, using his own knowledge of “ideal” into Earth's progression. Not everything will be perfect, but lots of changes to infrastructure on Earth were made by Elias ages ago based off what his race has done across multiple generations on various planets.
All vehicles are electric. Or “electric” as in using power from the power source that runs the whole planet (its not electricity but you know what I mean ok). They are often referred to as “tethered vehicles” not just due to their energy source, but also due to the fact they are in a sense, literally tied to something. “tethered” means that the vehicle is on a track of some kind that transfers the energy needed to travel, directly into the vehicle itself. Untethered vehicles exist, but need a specific license to be driven, and all vehicles that are off-track are recorded through an online system. While airplanes and boats exist they are few and more often for transporting goods than people, and are not 'tethered'- meaning most individuals wouldn't likely be using them either due to license (which is different due to being air and water vehicles).
There are two classes of vehicles- individual and community. They are self explanatory... Community vehicles are subways and trains, which transport groups of people and are purely focused on that. Subways and trains are the most common and even have tunnels built underground or in the ocean.
Individual vehicles are for one or two people at most. They are intended for all purposes (work, travel, leisure) and run on similar tracks as the subways and trains- but due to their compact sizes, they are capable of traveling faster, on smaller tracks that weave through locations otherwise inaccessible by large community ones. These vehicles are often seen as high class due to their cost, as many wouldn't care to own one if they are simply going to work or through the city- which is why most if not all individual vehicles are untethered as well, meaning most who own one must have a license for it. But tethered ones exist, and are often much more lightweight and cheaper.
Individual vehicles due to their small size, are often motorcycles and four or three wheeled light utility vehicles (LUVs, also known as ATVs)- but private boats and planes exist as well if you're especially wealthy. Being capable of untethered driving means they are most often capable of off-road driving on rougher terrain. Still, drivers are permitted to certain locations and could be greatly fined for driving in areas they are not allowed. They are most often used by those who work nontraditional jobs that require work out in the land, or by upper class working individuals wanting a free road all to themselves. They can and are often rented to those who work jobs out in the wilderness or away from the city, purely for work purposes.
Road safety & laws are similar to ours but differing to suit this alternate world. Tethered and untethered individual vehicles have different licenses, while all classes of vehicles to as well (land, air, sea, and freight specific trains). The licenses for tethered and untethered are separate and must be kept on the person at all times.
Laws are not all universal, and may be different to accommodate for culture or specifics regarding the country's terrain or infrastructure- but one law across the world is that once a citizen's age reaches the maturity equivalent of 70 human years they must be thoroughly tested on their health and retested if they have an individual license. They must retest for an untethered license, and if they are allowed to operate a such a vehicle after passing, they will face harsher penalties for errors and have it revoked for good if they run into issues in the future.
Tethered lines for vehicles to travel on are considered for safety above all, but cut back on the need for parking lots. Yes, while individual vehicles would expect to take up space, they are logged in a system to be tracked even when going off road. Stations exist that these vehicles must be stored at in order for the user's vehicle status to stay consistent (and to not be fined, or have their license revoked) which are located at the same hubs at which trains and subways are- or or for smaller tracks, along sidewalks. Additionally, some work places have their own small storage hubs for storing these vehicles and logging their status.
Undoubtedly, their storage exists and takes up some space, but the system never allowed for cars, trucks, and larger vehicles to exist in the same way, thus cutting down greatly on wasted space. They are built to be compact and small, and due to the cost of them and the requirements, they aren't as common as most would assume. It is very much the norm to take a train or subway overall, especially for travel within the cities themselves. They are incredibly accessible and the world is heavily built around them.
Design & style of vehicles are often sleek, futuristic. This will no doubt be different across the world, some places consistently of old models or styles while others are more up to date. But within the immediate city Cryptolalia is based in, smoothed out futuristic shapes with white-heavy color choices are common. For those more accustomed to off-roading though, vehicles may show more of the 'guts' in order to not struggle with terrain and allow easy access to maintenance. Untethered off road vehicles will also have slots for extra power, which are shaped like discs, that are found at docking stations (or purchased and charged at home). Trains and subways are just as if not more smooth in shape, fitting right into the tunnels they travel through.
That is like, all I can grab from my brain right now. There is likely more im just forgetting but id be glad to answer any questions poking at the details of this!
Overall my intention is to have a world that has gone very.. idealistically futuristic-- but you'll see those bits about being tracked, and some of the strictness with untethered vehicles. Those aren't intended to be purely good things either. This version of Earth is heavily controlled, even if many parts of it include me inserting my “ideal” concepts, like no parking lots and good subways infrastructure.
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jae-daddy · 4 years ago
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Duff (4)
jaebum au series
one / two  / three / four / five /  six / seven / eight masterlist
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pairing: im jaebum x reader genre: angst, smut, cheating, CEO! i guess too now plot:  you are the duff, and guys use you to get close to your bestfriend, turns out jaebum was no exception. but as time goes on the tension between you and your bestfriend’s unoffical boyfriend grows  a/n: it so late, I'm literally seeing double rn... hope y’all like it! <3 not edited. 
Life is brimming with lessons that teach you how to live without being naive and a fool. 
You were already taught a few lessons by life, as it made you jump through endless hoops burning with malicious flames waiting to scorch your skin at slightest touch. 
So you found it fair to hold yourself as intelligent and mature. 
Therefore, you trusted your conclusion to ignore whatever happened in the elevator with Im Jaebum. 
What was said, what was done; none of it mattered. 
An important lesson you’ve learnt is people say and do crazy things when they are riding high a shot of adrenaline. 
Jaebum’s near-death experience led him to say things that he would not on a normal day. It was only because he was scared that he did. And everyone wants to die an honest man. You were certain if it were Paul in the elevator instead of you, Jaebum might have confessed something outrageous to him too. 
So that was not the reason why you were staring at the two males in front of you as they spoke absolute nonsense to you. You already knew not to take what happened in that tiny metal box seriously. Instead, it was another life lesson you knew that made you stare at them as if they had grown two heads: everything has a price. 
“Not everyone gets an opportunity like this, y/n,” Paul spoke, a second away from begging on his knees. 
You shook your head in distaste, this was not part of the plan. Actually, there was no plan, but if you had one, this would definitely not be it. This was not how you imagined your lottery internship to turn out. 
“Paul, I am flattered the company believes me to be capable of such an important role,” you breathed, trying to keep a polite smile as your eyes bounced between the bald man and the smirking jerk. “However, I do not think I would be suitable for this role. I made it clear in my internship contract that I will not have my studies affected by this opportunity. Unfortunately, being the secretary of the -”
“I’m sorry to stop you, y/n,” Paul cut you off, not apologetic at all. You bit your cheeks to hold back a sneer. “We have thought about this through, and believe it to be the best plan of action to take right now. Mr Im is new to this company and is temporary, and while we have made a public announcement, he is still on trial.
“We could get someone in a fixed-term confidential contract, but that’s too complicated.”
Your brows furrowed as you disagreed with that, but you didn't say anything. 
“The remaining time left in your contract and Mr Im’s trial period match up perfectly. You already have secretarially role in the company, so you already know the ups and downs, the tricks and tips, so we really believe this is the best way. And about your studies, the summer break began last week. However, if you believe this to be in violation of your contract, we will compensate.”
“Compensate?” You rose an eyebrow, payment would be better than slaving away for free. 
“Pay you, just like any other employee,” Paul smiled happily. Finally seeing some indication of interest from your side. He added, proudly, “with all employee benefits.”
You bit your lip in deep thought. 
You mentally weighed the pros and cons. 
There were pros, so many pros; a better resume, money, free coffee and healthcare, etc. But the con, the big con stared at you in bold, italics, highlighted in large red fonts: you’d be working for Im Jaebum. 
If this was someone else you would have said yes the moment they offered it, even without the benefits. But with Im Jaebum, things got complicated. 
You weren’t sure if he could maintain the professional relationship between the two of you. And if you were being completely honest, you didn’t know if you could maintain it too. 
Even now, with Paul standing at one end of the table, and Jaebum settled on the long side. Your mind couldn’t help thinking about how short your skirt was, and how easy it would be for Jaebum to bend you over the wooden table, and make you a moaning mess. 
It would be quite difficult to maintain professionalism when you’d be spending time alone with him. Or maybe, he would use his position to make you suffer. He might end up not coming to work at all, have you do all his work, and just show up to sign and show his face. 
So much could go wrong with working for Im Jaebum. 
And you also had to consider the fact that you hadn’t talked to him since the elevator incident. 
You haven’t been to Heather’s place, too busy with the piled up assignments all due within the last two weeks. The twenty hours of weekly internship didn’t give you any freed up time either. You didn’t get an opportunity to see Heather, or her boyfriend, Im Jaebum, to have a talk. 
“Oh come on, y/n,” Jaebum smiled at you, making your blood boil instantly. This was the first thing he said to you in the past two weeks and somehow managed to be an arrogant shit-eater when he did. Your glare didn’t make his smile falter as he sang, “It’ll be fun.”
No way. You thought. There is no way you would be able to work for that self-centred, cocky, incredibly hot jerk. 
“We’ll cover your fees.” Paul stopped you before the no on the tip of your tongue tumbled out. You stared at him in shock, as he looked at you expectedly. 
“My university fees?” You asked, shocked.
“Yes, all of it.” He nodded. 
That’s a lot. 
Your eyes fell on Jaebum who smirked at you as if he had the whole entire world at his feet's disposal, and maybe he truly did. He had something similar to that power if the company was willing to go to such extents to make him stay. 
The pros were really starting to outweigh the annoying, irritating con.
“Fine,” you licked your lips, with a sigh. “I’m in.”
Paul almost jumped in his place with excitement, “Thank you, y/n! Thank you so much!”
Paul walked out swiftly muttering something about going to the HR and having a contract formed immediately. Your eyes followed him as he left, remaining on the doors that closed behind him.
You could feel his gaze burning the side of your face, and it truly felt as if you were about to combust. 
“What?” You snarked, turning towards him annoyed. 
Jaebum just snickered as he swirled side to side, carefree, on his chair, “Why are you always so mad, love?” 
You rolled your eyes getting up, “I guess this meeting is over.”
“I didn’t dismiss you, y/n,” Jaebum said, stopping his playful actions. 
“You’re not my boss until I sign that piece of paper, so,” you gave him a middle finger with a tight smile before walking out the office. 
You could hear his light laughter follow you, but you ignored it. 
You stopped in your tracks as you remembered something and entered the room once again. Jaebum looked up at you, surprised, before smiling brightly, “Welcome back.” 
You cursed yourself for returning after such an amazing exit, but there were more pressing matters than your pride. 
“Have you told Heather about what happened?” You closed the door behind you, making sure no one could hear you. 
Jaebum’s eyes danced with amusement, as he shrugged, drawling, “What happened?” 
“In the elevator, Jaebum,” you gritted through your teeth as you stepped closer towards him.
Jaebum’s smiled only grew as he frowned with feigned innocence, “I can’t seem to remember, maybe if you could help me remember.”
His lazy gaze fell to your lips before meeting your eyes again. A spark ignited deep inside you, and you told yourself it was anger; it was an annoyance. 
You clicked your jaw as you smacked your hands onto the desk, leaning over it. Jaebum watched you, carefully, not intimidated a bit, only amused. 
Your eyes narrowed at him, before you smiled sweetly, “You were holding my hand and crying like a child.” 
Jaebum hissed, unaffected, as he tsked, “I can’t seem to remember that.” 
“Did you tell her or not?” You groaned, your annoyance at peak. 
What you would do to this man if you got a chance. He wouldn’t be smiling like that, he’d be begging you for forgiveness, for release. 
Jaebum smirked as if he could read your mind, “No, I didn't.” 
“Good,” you nodded, gulping as his eyes watched you with unsettling darkness. “Don’t.” 
He rose his eyebrow, before nodding, “As you wish, y/n.” 
You turned and felt his gaze watch you as you walked out. You felt it lower, watching your hips as it swayed side to side. Your hand gripped the cool handle as your shoulders sagged slightly. 
You let out a low sigh, “Thanks.” 
You disappeared behind the door before Jaebum could reply. 
“Babe!” Heather sang as her long limbs fell over you loosely. You laughed, as you helped her sit straight. She leaned against you again, snuggling her face into your neck as she hugged you, “I love the way you smell, baby!” 
You chuckled as you patted her red matted hair soiled with glitter and sweat at the back of the Uber, “Thanks Heather, I like how you smell too.” 
“Don’t lie,” you could hear her pout, and it only made you smile. “You always make fun of my feet.” 
“But that’s only after the gym or a hike, Heather,” you told her, as you brushed the hair off her face. 
Heather was completely wasted tonight. 
She was already drunk by the time you walked into the club. Jaebum wasn’t anywhere to be found, and you found her with a group of her “friends” that you didn’t like. 
They would always make her drink too much, give her a little white sugar, and let her waste her platinum card on those low lives. 
You didn’t like the way the guys would touch her as she slumped back onto the couch unable to see straight. You didn’t like the way the girls sitting around would not help her, instead, encourage her to be worse. 
You were mad when you were pulling her away from the crowd and towards the bathroom when you had found Jaebum. He had just got to the club himself but was ready to leave as soon as he saw the state Heather was in. 
He sat on the other side of Heather, holding her purse, as Heather held you from the middle seat. 
Heather mumbled something in return and you couldn’t understand it. 
“By that red letterbox is fine,” you told the Uber driver as he slowed down. 
Jaebum got out first, and you helped Heather onto his back before getting out. You turned to the driver, giving him a small smile, “Thank you.”
“No problem, have a good night,” he said, already accepting a new ride. 
“You too,” you said, as you closed the door. You turned to Jaebum, with Heather hanging her head over his shoulder. Her long ember curls falling down his chest as he grunted and halted her up. 
“Woah, stop,” Heather moaned, heaving. 
Jaebum looked at you with terror in his eyes, and you laughed at him, “Come on, let’s get this party animal into bed.”
“Is this where you live?” Jaebum asked as you led him up the small walk to the door. 
You snorted and shook your head, “No, this is Heather’s home.” 
Jaebum rose his eyebrows, and you continued, as you unlocked the doors, 
“Her parents don’t live in this house anymore, so Heather skips between here and the apartment.” 
You turned the lights on and took in the home that greeted you. 
“They love sure love red, huh?” Jaebum commented, taking in the red couch, red feature wall, and red details spread over the living room and kitchen. 
You laughed at that, agreeing with him. The Blacks sure did take pride in their red-haired heritage, and didn’t hide the fact that it was family’s favourite colour, “Mrs Black was going through an interior design phase.”
“Thank god it was just a phase,” Jaebum snickered, making you turn to him with a pointed look as you tried to hide the smile. 
“She wasn’t too bad,” you replied and began walking towards Heather’s room. 
Jaebum followed behind you, grunting as he adjusted Heather on his back, “No, she was just too red.” 
You rolled your eyes as you opened her bedroom door and walked towards the bed. You pulled down the covers and Jaebum gently set her down. You took off her shoes, and earrings carefully. 
Jaebum didn’t say anything and just watched you as you walked around the room getting out her nightshirt, and face-cleansing products. 
“Why are you looking at me, Jaebum?” You asked, not looking at him. Instead, you pumped out the cleanser on a pad and gently took off the makeup from her face. 
“Is there a problem?” Jaebum asked back, making you snort. 
You gently turned her face and began the other side, “Yes, it’s making me nervous. I can feel you judging me.”
He was probably thinking what everyone else seemed to think when they saw you and Heather. They never saw the whole you both had for each other, how you would do anything for one another. All they saw was Heather in all her brilliance, beauty and wealth, and you, as her second, her side-kick. 
“I’m not judging you,” he replied instantly. 
Something about the way he said it made you believe him. You bit your lip, as folded the dirty make-up pads and put them on the side table.
“Then what are you doing?” You took a wet towel, wiping her face. You patted it dry and misted some toner and moisturiser. You turned back and met Jaebum’s eyes that remained on you, “Why are you looking at me?”
“There’s nothing else to look at,” he simply shrugged. 
You rolled your eyes and pointed to the wall covered with photos of Heather through the years. Most of them had you in them, celebrating every holiday, and some photos from random days when the sun was shining brightly. 
Jaebum stared at the wall as if noticing it for the first time. He got up and slowly walked up towards it. He took in the photos for a while, a small chuckle leaving him sometimes, “How did you two become friends?” 
You smiled at the memory, “She saved me.” 
You stared at your gorgeous friend, as she got up slightly. She searched around, her eyes disappearing as she smiled spotting you, “Oh, you’re here, y/n. I was going to the store on Wednesday.”
She trailed off, falling back into her pillow dozing off again. 
“Her hangover is going to kill her tomorrow,” you turned to Jaebum with a tight smile, as you held up the nightshirt, “I’m going to change her.” 
Jaebum instantly turned on his heels and walked out, closing the doors behind him. 
You walked out to the smell of coffee and Jaebum sitting at the kitchen counter with two mugs in front of him. You furrowed your eyebrows as you settled on the chair in front of him, “Is this poisoned?” 
Jaebum snorted rolling his eyes. 
You blew the coffee before sipping it. It was still searing hot, so you placed it down on the counter, and turned towards Jaebum. 
You took in his midnight hair pushed back, revealing his forehead. You didn’t know you could find someone’s forehead so sexy, but after seeing his hair down while he was at work, you had to admit it was hot. His piercings that were normally missing during office hours had returned too, a few missing. 
You frowned your eyes focusing on his nose and eyebrows, “Why aren’t you wearing all your piercings?” 
“It’s a nuisance putting it on and off,” Jaebum shrugged, before pointing to his lips, his tongue coming out to flick the sliver hoop, “Just wore my favourite.” 
You held your breath, as the image of the cool metal against your lips, flicked by your tongue, gently tugged by your teeth invaded your mind. Your cheeks heated but you continued like nothing was happening to your body. 
“Do you have piercings anywhere else?” 
Jaebum smirked, “If you’re into pierced nipples, I can get them done for you.” 
You groaned, a ridiculous smile on your face as you shook your head, “Can you ever have a conversation without being a prick?” 
“A prick?” he gasped, “that’s a bit harsh. I would say I’m more of a flirt.”
“Oh, so you know? This is a conscious decision. You wake up every day and decide to be the bane of my existence.” 
“I do wake up every morning and think of you,” Jaebum smiled at you. He chuckled, seeing you roll your eyes at him. 
“You’re ridiculous,” you snorted. Jaebum simply shrugged, smiling. 
Something beeped from the kitchen and Jaebum got up. You watched him walk over to the stove and turn it off. He reached for a mug before looking through the drawers for something. 
You narrowed your eyes watching him, “What are you looking for?” 
“Uh... a strainer?” He turned back to you, scratching the back his head. “I don’t know what it’s called.” 
Your heart melted at how adorable he looked standing there, confused and unsure. The smile on his lips was so beautiful as he watched you, waiting for you. 
“The second drawer over there,” you pointed, not looking at him as your cheeks tinted rosy again. 
Jaebum murmured thanks, before using it to drain the liquid from the pot and into the cup, “It’s a hangover tea. My mum makes it for me every time I get too drunk.” 
“You live with your mum?” You asked. Jaebum peered back at you a small smile on his lips. 
“Yeah, but I rarely ever get to see her.” 
“Why’s that?” You frowned. The way Jaebum talked about her, the lightness in his voice and the softness of his smile, told you how much he adored his mother. 
Jaebum shrugged before giving you a cheeky smile, “My house is too big.” 
You laughed at that. You were not expecting that at all. You heard Jaebum’s low chuckle as you sobered up. 
“What about you?” He asked as placed the cup onto a tray with a glass of water and two tablets he found next to the refrigerator. “Do you live alone?”
“Yup,” you nodded, before frowning, “Not even a pet.” 
“No pets?” He asked, sympathetic. 
You nodded, “I’m scared of animals. It doesn’t matter what size, or how well-trained, or what the animal is. I am terrified of them all the same.” 
Jaebum gasped as if you had confessed to a murder, “What is wrong with you?”
“Wow, I thought this was a safe place,” you mumbled before taking a sip from your coffee that had cooled down. You hummed at the taste, he made good coffee. 
“What about your parents?” Jaebum asked, making you stiffen. “Where do they live?” 
You remained quiet. 
You opened your mouth to tell him what you always told anyone who asks. It wasn’t that you were embarrassed or thought it was something to hide. You didn’t want people in your business and telling them to mind their business when they asked only piked up their interest more. 
So you opened your mouth to tell him what you’ve been telling everyone for the past five years, “I don’t live with them.”
Normally you would follow up with something about living here was better for your education or future jobs. You would say something, an excuse, that was reason enough for many young people to move out of their parents home. But what you said surprised you, “I don’t talk to them anymore.” 
“Oh,” was all Jaebum said. “That’s cool too.” 
You peered up at him with a frown. You took in his relaxed gaze, the smile on his face just like it there was a minute ago. There was no sympathy, no pity. There was no spike in interest or anything. 
He really didn’t want to pry. He didn't want to know why unless you told him. He only took as much as you could allow him. 
Suddenly there was an iridescent pond shimmering in your chest. It swirled, making your whole body feel alive as you took in Im Jaebum. It felt as if your entire body was one cell, one tiny speck of dust caught in the breeze of Im Jaebum, and it didn’t mind. 
You gulped, your body and mind acting quicker than you could control, “They couldn’t stand the sight of at me after they found out I was still doing something I promised I wouldn’t do anymore.” 
The faces of your parents appeared in front of your eyes. The shock, anger, the disappointment on their face as they found you lying in a pool of your urine and vomit. The horror in their eyes, their desperateness as they shook your body, pleading for you to reply. 
“They didn't kick me out. I left,” you ran a hand through your hair, as you let out a heavy sigh. You thought of the letter you wrote them, the way they had cried when they came to the hospital to meet you during those months, “I couldn’t hurt them anymore.”
“Do you think you would ever go meet them again?” You looked up to Jaebum watching you. You were thankful for the lack of pity in his eyes as he kept his gaze on you. 
You sighed again, and it came out as a little laugh, “One day I will.” 
You nodded, as you met his eyes. He smiled at you softly, and you smiled back as you scrunched your nose to stop the tears from threatening you, “When I am good enough, I will.” 
“I hope that day comes soon.” 
You didn’t realise Jaebum had come this close to you as you were talking. He leaned against the counter between you, his eyes intently taking you in. He folded his hands on the dark marble, his face leaning half-way over the counter. 
You watched him back. 
He was so beautiful. 
You huffed out a smile as you shook your head at him. Jaebum instantly changed, leaning back, the playfulness in his eyes glinting once again as he rose an eyebrow in question. 
“You’re not too bad, you know?” You smiled at him, before adding, “When you’re acting like a normal human being at least.” 
Jaebum laughed at that before giving you a mocking smirk, “You’re not too bad yourself, y/n.”
You grinned about to say thank you, when he added, “When you’re not acting like a stick is stuck up your ass at least.” 
“What an asshole,” you shook your head, laughing at him. 
Jaebum beamed back, his eyes shining, “What a bitch.” 
You took in the dark flecks in his eyes. You noticed their velvety blackness absorbing all light around it, but something else existed in those captivating eyes of his eyes. They didn’t get dragged away into the twilight of his gaze.  
Instead, it shone brightly. It glistened, it was golden, white and sparkled like a starry night. It dragged you in, it made you want to lean close to him. 
It made you want to place your lips on his and see how that shimmering halo swirled as he pulled you in closer. It made you want to reach for him, to place your hand on his soft cheeks. It made you want to walk around the counter and hug him in the middle of the kitchen littered with red embellishments. 
Jaebum’s smile curled into an easy smirk as he winked at you before turning around. He picked up the tray with a cup of tea, a glass of water and Panadol, as walked towards the door the red-haired beauty was sleeping in. 
Everything had a price. 
Somewhere deep within your heart was a corner buried so deeply in the darkness you had forgotten it existed. The room was cold, dark, and there was nothing. Nothing except for a lone candle standing in the middle of the emptiness. 
There had been nothing there for an eternity, and it was almost like magic. It almost felt like a trick of the eye, but then it happened again. 
A flame, a spark, flickering at the tip of the candle; it sparked again. 
This time it caught on. It burned, slowly getting brighter and livelier. 
You watched Jaebum disappear behind the door of Heather’s room. 
A sharp ache twisted your heart as you saw his broad back enter the dark room she was sleeping in. 
The flame spreading over the wick twisted in shades of ember, their shadows dancing over the room. 
You saw a word, you saw a face. 
You knew the price for this feeling tugging, craving to grow bigger in your heart. You walked into the room, hidden in a deep corner of your heart. The ivory trail of your dress dragged on the dusty floor, turning brown with every step. 
You didn’t look at the walls, you didn’t take in the shapes of the flames. 
You took sharp, clear steps. You reached the candle, the flame reflecting softly against you. You closed your eyes, took in a deep breath and exhaled, blowing out the candle. 
The flame was gone. 
The candle extinguished, the room engulfed in darkness, once again.  
You looked to the wall, the photo was no longer there but the image there was burnt into your mind. 
The price of this feeling was too expensive. 
It was too precious, and you couldn’t afford it.
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