#in one scene. btw. not even two different scenes back to back just the same scene like ten seconds apart

[honeyandruin]

i think with only in the dark you should write how the readers dad can see how bad her and joel are doing without each other. maybe he slowly makes up with joel but can see he’s not the same, like he’s back to a grumpy lifeless shell of himself without her, and with reader you could carry on with her low key depression and maybe she says she wants to move?? then the dad sees okay they need each other, these are all just suggestions, but i just need to see them happy and together again!! btw the smut is IMPECCABLE *chefs kiss* i rate keep all the same kind of smut

Ooooh, absolutely, yes! Thank you for loving them like I do 💚💚

Without further ado; Only in the Dark, Part Two

Pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: You moved in. He proposed. You said yes. Now you’re getting married. It’s simple. Small. Sacred. The only thing that matters is that he’s yours—and you’re his.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. Age gap. Established relationship. Intimate wedding. Emotional softness. Joel being the most husband. Love so intense it might make you cry.

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: This is the final scene for the one-shot “Only If You Ask.” Please read that first for all the filthy, filthy build-up. We’ve earned this softness. 🖤

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You don’t realize when it starts to change.

It doesn’t happen all at once—no big speech, no dramatic line drawn in the sand. Just smaller things, quiet shifts in the way people look at you. The way your dad doesn’t stiffen anymore when Joel pulls into the driveway. The way he passes him tools now without comment. The way the world just… settles around you both.

You and Joel don’t hide anymore.

Not from your dad. Not from the town. Not from each other.

He still has rough edges, still gets gruff when the coffee’s not strong enough or when the new guy at the shop misplaces the torque wrench for the third time in a week. But it’s different now.

He smiles more.

Not big, showy grins—nothing out of character—but those small, quiet smiles. The ones that crinkle the corners of his eyes when you lean into his shoulder. The ones he gives you from across the grocery store aisle when you’re holding up two kinds of cereal like it’s the hardest decision in the world.

He touches you more, too. In public. In front of people.

Not possessively. Just… like he doesn’t have to pretend anymore. A hand on your back when you pass him the keys. Fingers brushing your wrist when he hands you a mug. A kiss to your temple before he heads into the shop in the morning—careful, always soft, but never hidden.

And your dad?

Well.

He hasn’t said anything else. Not really. But you’ve seen him laugh with Joel. Watched them stand shoulder to shoulder fixing the front steps like it didn’t take months to get there. He doesn’t linger awkwardly anymore when Joel’s around. Doesn’t avoid the room. Just nods when Joel offers to help and says thanks when he actually does.

It’s not everything. Not perfect.

But it’s more than you thought you’d get.

And now—weeks later, with the heat of summer settling thick on your skin and your heart finally starting to feel like it belongs in your chest again—you have this.

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The truck’s parked off the old service trail, tucked between two overgrown pines that lean just enough to shade the clearing. The engine’s been off for over an hour. The doors still creak when you open them, the metal groaning in the heat, but you hardly notice anymore.

You’re in the bed of it now, limbs tangled in the soft fleece blanket Joel keeps behind the seat for mornings like this. There’s a small cooler tucked at your feet, beads of condensation slipping down the sides, and a half-finished beer resting against Joel’s thigh—gone warm under the sun.

You’re on your back, head pillowed against his bicep, the heat of his body seeping into yours even through the fabric of your shirt. His other hand rests on your stomach, thumb stroking lazily back and forth. Not for any reason. Just because you’re there.

The sky above is pale and cloudless, the breeze soft enough to stir your hair when it shifts, and somewhere nearby, cicadas are humming.

Everything feels still.

Your eyes are half-lidded, toes nudging the edge of the bed, when you murmur, “You think anyone else knows about this place?”

Joel doesn’t answer right away.

Just shifts slightly, the press of his thigh against yours anchoring you to the moment. He scratches his jaw and says, “Doubt it. Last time I was here, I was still listenin’ to cassette tapes.”

You snort. “God, you’re old.”

He hums low. “You like me old.”

You roll your head toward him and catch the faint twitch of a smile tugging at his mouth.

“Maybe,” you tease. “But only when you shut up.”

Joel turns his head fully. Meets your gaze.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment—just looks at you, that same unreadable expression softening with the way your eyes catch the sun. Then he shifts onto his side, carefully, and props himself up on one elbow. His hand moves from your stomach to your cheek, thumb brushing beneath your eye.

“Been thinkin’ ‘bout bringin’ you out here for weeks,” he says quietly.

You blink. “Yeah?”

He nods, gaze flicking across your face like he’s memorizing it. “Didn’t want to bring you out until I was sure you wouldn’t disappear after.”

Your breath catches. He says it so simply, but it hits something deep.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper.

Joel leans in. Kisses you—soft, unhurried, his lips warm from the sun and tasting faintly of beer. His hand cradles your jaw, the calluses gentle against your skin. You can feel the tension bleed out of his shoulders with every second he stays there, mouth moving with yours like this—this—is the only thing tethering him to the ground.

When he pulls back, he doesn’t go far.

His forehead rests against yours. His breath mingles with yours. And his voice drops to something low and certain.

“Don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

The words aren’t dramatic. Not a confession, not a performance. Just a truth spoken out loud because it deserves to be.

You slide your hand under his shirt. Let your palm settle over the beat of his heart.

“Me neither,” you say.

He kisses you again. Slower this time. With both hands in your hair, and the kind of hunger that doesn’t ask for anything more than this moment—sunlight, summer air, and the space between your bodies that finally doesn’t have to hold secrets anymore.

—

Later, when you drive back into town, his hand stays on your thigh the whole way.

And when your dad sees the two of you carrying groceries into the house—laughing about the broken eggs and Joel’s refusal to buy the off-brand cereal—he doesn’t say anything.

Just glances up from the porch, nods once, and holds the door open for both of you.

You kiss Joel in the kitchen after.

Not a secret kiss. Not a stolen one.

Just love. Plain and simple.

The way it always should’ve been.

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It wasn’t a big decision.

There was no packed suitcase, no teary moment of crossing a threshold. No key exchanged with trembling hands.

You just… started staying.

First it was a night. Then a weekend. Then you forgot your favorite sweatshirt, and he washed it and draped it over the back of the chair like it had always been there.

Toothbrush. Hairbrush. Half your wardrobe. Your favorite pan for eggs.

You moved in piece by piece, and neither of you ever said the words out loud—but now it’s been two weeks since you’ve slept anywhere else, and this house doesn’t feel like his anymore.

It feels like yours.

And Joel—well.

Joel’s still Joel. Still grouchy in the morning when there’s no clean mugs. Still muttering under his breath when he stubs his toe on the corner of the coffee table because “somebody moved it.” Still grumbling about the windows sticking when it rains.

But he doesn’t complain when your books end up on the nightstand. Or when you leave your laundry in the dryer for three days. Or when you talk through half a movie just because you like hearing yourself guess the plot.

He just looks at you.

Soft. Steady.

Like he’s watching something sacred unfold.

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It’s a slow evening.

There’s a breeze slipping through the window—barely strong enough to stir the edge of the curtain—and the record player hums somewhere in the corner, spinning something low and worn. Something old. Joel’s hand-picked, of course. You never remember the names, but you know the sound by heart now.

You’re curled up sideways on the couch, your knees folded and a paperback resting open across your thighs. Joel’s behind you—sprawled across the cushions with one arm tucked behind his head, the other draped lazily around your waist.

You’ve been reading for twenty minutes.

You haven’t turned a page in five.

His fingertips trace gentle circles against your side, low and steady, like he’s not even thinking about it. Just following the curve of your hip through the worn fabric of your sleep shorts. His palm is warm. Familiar.

You shift slightly, leaning back into him, and feel his chest rise behind you. Solid. Grounding.

“Comfortable?” He murmurs.

You hum without looking up. “Mhm.”

His thumb slides beneath the hem of your shirt, just barely.

Not suggestive. Not urgent.

Just… home.

The book starts to slip.

You let it fall onto your stomach, eyes heavy. Joel’s breath brushes the crown of your head when he leans forward to press a kiss there.

“You fallin’ asleep on me?” He asks, voice low and amused.

“No,” you lie.

He chuckles. It rumbles through his chest, into your back.

“You always say that.”

You turn your head just enough to glance back at him.

“I’m trying to read.”

Joel raises a brow. “You’ve been on the same damn page for ten minutes.”

You sigh. Dramatic. Flop the book to the side. “Fine. You win.”

He grins.

You shift again—this time rolling to fully face him. He welcomes you without hesitation, pulling you in, your head resting on his chest and your hand sliding beneath the hem of his shirt to settle against the warmth of his stomach.

It’s quiet for a long time.

The music keeps playing. The sky outside slips from gold to gray. And the house feels full in a way you never thought a place could.

Joel’s hand moves slowly up and down your spine. Gentle. Careful.

“You sleepin’ here again tonight?” He asks, like it’s still a question.

You don’t even lift your head.

“I live here, Joel.”

A pause.

Then his chest rises beneath your cheek with a deep, even breath.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “You do.”

And when he kisses the top of your head again, you feel it in every part of you.

—

You wake to warmth.

Not the kind that pulls you into the day—sunlight or sound or motion—but something closer. Heavier. More alive.

Joel.

Pressed along the length of your body, one arm locked around your waist, the other curled under the pillow beneath your head. His breath is slow against the nape of your neck. Deep. Steady. His chest rises and falls in rhythm with yours, the soft heat of his body wrapping around you like a blanket.

And below that—between you—you feel him.

Hard. Thick. Resting against the curve of your ass, barely contained by the thin cotton of his boxers. The edge of him fits perfectly between your legs like he was meant to be there, like you were built to feel him this way.

You don’t move at first.

Just lie there. Eyes still closed. Breathing him in.

He smells like sleep and cedar soap. Like worn flannel and skin warmed by thick blankets. There’s a soft scratch of his unshaven jaw against your shoulder, and his fingers twitch where they’ve gone slack across your stomach.

You shift—just a little.

Just enough to press your hips back into him.

Joel groans.

Low. Deep. Right in your ear.

His grip tightens reflexively. His cock twitches against you, already straining for more.

You smile, even as your breath catches.

“Joel,” you murmur, barely above a whisper.

He groans again, deeper this time, like the sound of your voice physically hurts him.

“Jesus,” he rasps, dragging his mouth across your bare shoulder. “You tryin’ to kill me?”

You hum and press your ass more deliberately into him. His hips rock without meaning to, the friction making you both suck in a breath.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you lie.

“You’re a goddamn menace,” he mutters into your skin. But he’s already moving—already sliding his hand beneath your shirt, fingertips tracing the warm curve of your belly like he needs to relearn every inch.

“Always wake up like this?” You tease.

He chuckles, low and rough. “When I’ve got you in my bed?”

He palms your breast through the thin cotton, thumb brushing over your nipple. You gasp—quiet, needy—and his voice drops to a rasp.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Always.”

You roll your hips back again, and he swears under his breath—fuck, half a growl—and slips his hand down to hook your thigh over his.

The stretch opens you just enough. Your shorts ride up, barely covering anything.

His fingers trail down the inside of your leg, slow and reverent. When they finally brush over your center—light and curious—you’re already soaked.

Joel stills.

“Christ,” he whispers, like he’s been punched. “You’re so fuckin’ wet, baby.”

You whimper when he presses in. One long stroke through your folds, dragging your slick across your clit, making your whole body jolt.

He kisses your neck. Breathes you in.

“I don’t even deserve this,” he says, like a confession.

“Yes, you do.”

His hand falters.

You reach back, blindly, and curl your fingers into his thigh. Anchor yourself to him.

“I want you,” you say. “Now. Please.”

He shifts behind you, and you feel him line up—thick and already pulsing against your entrance. He ruts forward once, just enough to drag the head of his cock through your slick, and you shudder.

Then he presses in.

Slow. So fucking slow.

You moan—quiet, long—and Joel swears, burying his face in your neck as he pushes deeper. His cock stretches you inch by inch, and it’s everything. Too much and not enough at the same time. He’s thick, hot, hard as stone and shaking from holding back.

“Goddamn,” he groans. “Tight as ever. Always take me so good, baby.”

You clutch at the sheets. Your whole body arches.

He bottoms out with a guttural sound—hips flush against your ass, arms locking around you from behind like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

You can feel his heartbeat in his cock. Feel every twitch, every pulse.

He doesn’t move.

Just stays buried deep inside you. Breathing hard. Grounding himself in the wet heat of your cunt.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “I missed this.”

“You had me last night,” you breathe, smiling.

“Don’t care. Never enough.”

He pulls back slowly, his cock dragging against your walls, every inch slick and perfect. Then he thrusts back in—deep and unhurried.

You cry out. He swallows it with a kiss to your shoulder.

“Joel,” you whimper. “Please.”

“I got you,” he soothes. “Gonna take care of you, sweetheart. Just relax. Let me feel you.”

He fucks you with those slow, deliberate strokes—deep and steady, like he wants to stay inside you forever. One hand slides beneath your shirt to cup your breast again, thumb teasing your nipple until your hips jerk.

The other finds your clit.

You moan when he touches it—light, swirling circles that match the rhythm of his thrusts. The pressure builds fast, sharp and overwhelming, your body tightening around him like a vice.

He groans against your skin.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Just like that. Love when you squeeze me like that, baby. So close already, aren’t you?”

You nod, eyes squeezed shut, every muscle locked tight.

“C’mon, sweet girl. Let go for me.”

You break.

It hits like a wave—long and slow and wrecking. Your body convulses, your cunt clenching around his cock, and Joel doesn’t stop. He fucks you through it, praising you with every breath—that’s it, baby, so good for me, takin’ me so well.

You’re still trembling when he comes.

Joel groans—fuck, fuck, gonna come,—and thrusts deep, burying himself inside you as he spills. His hips jerk, cock pulsing, hands clutching you like a lifeline.

And then everything stills.

He stays there for a long moment. Just breathing. Just being inside you.

Then he presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder. And another. And another.

“I love you,” he whispers, voice hoarse. “You know that, right?”

You reach for his hand where it rests on your stomach.

Tangle your fingers with his.

“I know.”

He nuzzles his face into your neck. Then he says it—quiet, like it slipped out of him without thinking.

“Marry me.”

It’s not a question. Not really. Not the first time.

You freeze.

He goes still, too—like he just realized he said it aloud.

Neither of you moves for a moment. Just the sound of breathing. The slow, sleepy thump of his heart against your spine.

You twist slowly in his arms. Face him. His eyes are open now—barely, sleep-heavy—but watching you. Searching.

You stare at him for a beat.

“Say it again.”

Joel blinks. Swallows. Then brushes your hair back from your face with a hand so gentle it makes your chest ache.

“Marry me.”

You stare at him. At his face. This man. This stubborn, protective, foul-mouthed, good-hearted man who somehow snuck into your life and built a home around it.

And you don’t think. You don’t need to.

You nod.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Okay.”

Joel exhales like it breaks him. Like he’s been holding his breath for months. His eyes flutter shut for a second and then he pulls you in, one hand at the back of your head, the other clutching your hip like he thinks you might vanish.

“You sure?” he asks, voice rough. “I don’t—fuck, I ain’t got a ring. I didn’t plan it. I just… it’s been sittin’ in my chest, and I couldn’t—”

“Joel.” You press your forehead to his. “I don’t need a ring. I just need you.”

His hand cradles your jaw. His thumb brushes the corner of your mouth.

“I’m yours,” he says softly.

You smile. “You always have been.”

—

The kitchen smells like toast and melted butter.

It’s hours later—mid-morning now—and you’re barefoot in Joel’s old flannel, standing at the stove with one hand on the frying pan and the other curled around a coffee mug he left on the counter. The sun filters in through the window above the sink, casting gold across the floorboards. Dust motes swirl in the light like they’re dancing for you.

You hum to yourself. Something quiet. Unconscious.

The pan sizzles. You flip a slice of bacon.

And then you feel it.

Joel, behind you—his arms sliding around your waist, lips brushing the spot just below your ear.

You smile.

“You didn’t have to get up,” you murmur, still focused on the pan.

“Didn’t wanna miss this.”

He sounds wrecked. Like he hasn’t quite come down from whatever that moment was. Like he still doesn’t believe you said yes.

You lean back into his chest.

He tightens his arms around you. Rests his chin on your shoulder.

“I like you in my shirt,” he mutters.

“I like me in your shirt.”

He hums. Then, more quietly—

“Gonna put a ring on you soon.”

You look at him over your shoulder. “Oh yeah?”

He nods.

“Not ‘cause I need it. Just so everyone knows you’re mine.”

You turn the burner off. Set the pan aside. Then you spin in his arms and loop your arms around his neck, standing on your toes.

“They already know, Miller.”

“Good.”

He kisses you—lazy and soft, one hand on your lower back, the other holding your face like it’s the only thing worth touching in the whole damn world.

You’re still kissing when the toast burns.

Neither of you cares.

—

The trees have just started to turn.

Not fully—just the edges. Hints of red and gold creeping into the green like something secret and slow. The kind of change you don’t notice until you’re standing right in the middle of it, breath caught in your throat, wondering how it happened so fast.

The wind is soft this morning. Crisp. You can smell leaves and distant smoke, the faint sweetness of apples in a bowl by the porch, and the familiar scent of cedar clinging to the flannel draped over Joel’s shoulders.

You picked this place together.

Just outside town. A clearing behind the ridge, where the pine trees break open into a little pocket of wild grass and dappled sunlight. No pews. No aisle. Just a rug thrown down beneath your boots and a few chairs for the people who matter.

There’s no music. No flowers. No white dress.

You’re in a cream sweater and worn boots, a skirt that moves when the breeze catches it. Joel’s in a clean button-down beneath his favorite jacket, sleeves rolled to his elbows, jaw freshly shaved for the first time in a week.

He looks good.

You think he always does.

But today, there’s something different in his face. Something raw.

Like he still can’t believe this is happening.

You reach for his hand. He takes it without hesitation.

His thumb runs over the inside of your wrist, soft and slow, like he’s trying to memorize the beat of your pulse. There’s dirt beneath his fingernails. A little scratch on his knuckle.

Real life, right there in his hands.

Your dad is the one standing between you.

He didn’t want to at first. Said he wasn’t sure if he could. But when Joel asked—quiet, humble, hopeful—he’d looked at you and sighed, then nodded like the choice had already been made in his chest long ago.

Now, he clears his throat. Glances down at the folded paper in his hands. Then back up.

You don’t hear the first few words.

Not really.

Because Joel is looking at you like he can’t breathe. Like he’s trying to hold it all in—every memory, every ache, every night he laid awake next to you with your name on his lips and fear in his chest.

And then it’s your turn.

You don’t have a vow written down.

Just him.

Just everything you know about his heart.

You take a breath. Let it settle low in your ribs. And then you speak—quietly, clearly, like it’s the only thing that matters.

“I don’t know what I thought love was before you. I don’t think I really knew at all. But now… it’s waking up next to you every morning and feeling like I finally made it home. It’s your laugh. Your hands. The way you show up, even when it’s hard. Even when it hurts.”

Joel’s eyes shine.

You swallow hard, but your voice doesn’t break.

“I promise to keep showing up, too. Even on the bad days. Even when it’s not easy. I’ll love you with everything I have—for every version of you, in every season we find.”

You squeeze his hand. “You’re it for me.”

Joel doesn’t speak right away.

Just looks at you like he’s never seen anything more real.

Then—low and rough and thick with everything he’s been holding inside—he says:

“I thought maybe this wasn’t in the cards for me. That someone like me doesn’t get to have somethin’ this good.”

You feel his fingers flex in yours.

“But then there was you. And I don’t—I don’t know how I lived so long without you. I ain’t proud of every part of me. But I’m proud of this. Of us.”

He lifts your hand. Presses a kiss to your knuckles.

“I’m yours,” he whispers. “Always.”

Your dad clears his throat again—sniffling this time.

“Well,” he mutters, blinking fast, “I guess you two better kiss already.”

Joel laughs. It’s soft, choked, almost broken.

Then he leans in.

And kisses you.

It’s not perfect. Not movie-pretty. His nose brushes yours. Your lips tremble. But it’s real. It’s warm. It’s everything you built in the ruins—hands in the dark, promises spoken between breaths, a love that outlived every reason it shouldn’t have.

When he pulls back, he doesn’t let go.

Just touches his forehead to yours and whispers,

“We did it, darlin’.”

And you whisper back,

“Yeah. We did.”

[soobnny]

dating him | bang chan

❝ have i told you how beautiful you look this morning? ❞

CHAN | lee know | changbin | hyunjin | han | felix | seungmin | jeongin

chan as ur bf wow congratulations

it’s giving strangers to lovers if i’m being fr

u just meet on a random tuesday like nothing out of the ordinary

conversation is made and for SOME reason, chan always feels the cogs in his head stop turning when he’s talking to u

like it feels like he’s constantly on the run all the time so how come with u it’s so different

what did u do to him

well wtvr long story short, he FELL

fell hard

now he’s ur bf

ok hear me out

perk #1: unlimited supply of his hoodies

he’d love it too .. when u wear his hoodie

doesn’t even try to act upset or bothered that u’re stealing his clothes

sometimes he’s the one to even put it on ur bed so u can wear it after u shower

or when u’re coming home from the dorm and when u open ur bag .. oh! his hoodie!

“ah, i must’ve misplaced it 😅😅😅”

yeaaaaaaaaah sure

sure u misplace the hoodie in ur very pink bag instead of his black bag

u’re not very slick christopher bang

u don’t mind tho

his hoodies are always xxxxl in size and it smells like him

perk #2: u have ur own man wife

that man knows how to do everything

he can fix ur sink, build u a table, put oil on ur doorknobs so they don’t harden, can clean, like what can’t he do

have u seen hometown cha cha cha? he’s giving very Chief Hong in his skills

(minho does too but we’ll talk about him in his post)

oh, did i mention he can cook too

one of his favorite little mini dates is when u just go thru cookbooks together

and then … cook

i’m sorry this man is a sucker for domestic things like this

and cooking together means u also grocery shop together

a fun challenge he made up is where u pick up random ingredients and try to make something decent out of it

maaaaaan he’s just giving husband

anyways back to cooking

imagine him in the kitchen right

and he’s tasting something new he made

ofc u’re curious too cos wow whatever the hell he’s making smells and looks good

when you try to ask him if you can taste it, he’d KISS you

“how do you like it? 😏😏😏”

😳😳😳😳

he’s getting bold

he does strike me as shy at first in relationships

and then when u’re together for long, u’re like damn this man kinda freaky

perk #3: his dog

berry loves u

like sometimes even more than chan

(it’s bc u give her extra treats when u can)

u walk his dog together early in the morning

it’s kind of become routine

u’d just get out of bed with messy hair and still in ur pajamas while chan is perfectly ready bc he loves waking up early when he can

u don’t even care that u look like a mess

bc chan always reminds u how beautiful u are every morning

so … messy hair and pajamas … putting the leash on berry and walking outside

it’d just be quiet mostly on the walk

there’s no need for conversation with chan sometimes

chan would say he finally knows what peace means after meeting u

his favorite scene ever is coming home and finding u asleep on the couch with berry

he has a million pictures of that on ur phone

like different days, same scene

sets it as his lockscreen even

on nights u can spend together, u enjoy watching cringy christmas movies w him

cue recreating the scenes

except it’s a massive failure bc both of u just can’t stop laughing

u especially love those christmas movies one

“I DONT HAVE A TWIN WE CANT RECREATE THE PRINCESS SWITCH”

u end up just falling asleep together

ofc not without cuddling and intimate kisses

chan finds he sleeps easier bc of u

he used to always find it so difficult to fall asleep before

so how come it’s as easy as closing his eyes now

btw u two most probably have promise rings

and he most probably wears it as a necklace

and he loves hugging u from behind

chan loves being able to nuzzle his cheek on ur back and hold u

he’d probably do that thing where u’re unaware and then BAM a pair of arms around ur waist

his chin on ur shoulder

oh Wow….. wow i just made myself crazy thinking about that

he’d lean in to kiss ur neck or ur chin bc it’s closest access

and he’d just look at whatever the hell u’re doing

chan loves looking at u

does that sound creepy

he just loves observing u ok !!!!!!

esp when u’re doing something u love

his heart goes 💗💞💕💕💝💘💖💞💓💓

bc that’s his baby

he just adores u tbh

u could just be standing there and chan’s looking at u with heart eyes

anyways whatever CONGRATULATIONS

u guys will probably last forever bc he’s whipped and so in love

he’s giving me the More In Love vibe

like when he falls, he FALLS

happy 4 u

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

[andhumanslovedstories]

I've been running this writing experiment lately to cut out phrases like "I felt" in my fiction writing. Like I was looking at a sentence in a draft that said, "he felt as if character's eyes were pinning him in place." And then I was like, "well, does he think that or is it true? As a result of this person watching him, he's froze. It's not like a thing, it is that thing."

Oh and "almost"! I'm always going, "He felt almost relieved that it hadn't happened." Well, did he feel better that it didn't happen or didn't he? Or "somewhat", I'm always going, "she felt somewhat perturbed."

And like none of that is wrong, to be clear. I don't know if it'd improve your writing, I don't even know if it'll improve my writing, but I use this sentence structure all the time so every viewpoint is from a voice that thinks about what it thinks, hedges its statements, and offers the same ability for wry little jokes formatted in the exact same way. And I have a lot of writing like that and I think (!) that they're good, but read as a whole, I'm like, "god, they all sound the same." Like there's one melody that I write songs to, so even with different lyrics, it's almost (!) the same song. Something I've been struggling with in regards to my writing and why I've felt so blocked is how boring I found writing my usual way. I'd read something and enjoy the individual parts of it, but then I'd step back and I didn't like the whole. And I got good at this enough at seeing that I didn't like it to do it in real time as I was writing, which as you can imagine didn't improve the process of writing because now I was bored AND dejected about being bored.

There's this sentence-level structure fact that I use unconsciously. A pattern I find easy is short sentence, short sentence, short sentence, long sentence. So I write that. "He [verbed]. He [verbed]. Then he [verbed]. As he [verbed] to his [consequence], he [verbed] that [noun] was [statement of condition]." Which could work, it often does make for a nice rhythm, but it's something I reach for often because it's easier for me.

Just last sentence, I originally typed, "I find it easier for me." But if what I mean is "using this pattern is less effort than another pattern," then it's easier for me. One voice is hedging its bets and the other asserting. Either is fine! But they're different! And, again, GOD you would not believe how many words I've cut out of this paragraph as I write it. I'm so chatty. I love using twelve words when six will do. And that gives my writing a specific tone to my ear.

So if I am bored of that tone, why not try using just the six words? Why be understated? Why be afraid of stronger opinions? So right now with my fiction, I'm experimenting with cutting out as many self-reflective words as I can. Sometime you do need to draw attention to the face that this is the character's interpretation, but like you definitely don't need to do it as much as I naturally want to do it. You don't need to always go out of your way to allow the possibility that the narrative voice is wrong. During editing, I trim the weaker ones (I originally typed, "what I consider the weaker ones" Is that more accurate?). But I think them being there in the first place shifts my language which shifts my character's which shifts my plot. It's sentence structure all the way down!!

(this barely applies to my writing on here, btw. i try to do good but yknow this is a tumblr blog. i'm not trying to get a lit mag to accept it.)

Anyway blah blah (chatty!) the point is I've been trying to write in a way opposite of my interests. Something that doesn't take itself too seriously, that emphasizes EMOTION and ACTION instead of minimizing it, and that clips through scenes at a good pace. Doing this been amazingly fun. I've been having such a good time doing it. I am writing so much because I really enjoy doing it. The process of writing is so fun again.

This post is about two things. One is my new mood stabilizer and therapy day camp. The other is about the benefit of pretending to be MXTX.

[mymoshangthoughts]

something i think about with regards to og!shang qinghua

i totally think he smashed mobei jun's face in with the rock

like okay the scene plays out basically the same, except instead of thigh-hugging, the original goods was groveling and hiding and dodging and only BARELY managed to survive for long enough for mobei jun to faint

so here he is, surrounded by corpses and a fainted demon and theres this big ass rock over there and he's like "yeah, thats the pragmatic thing to do"

but see, airplane and the original goods both vastly over-estimated the ability of a rock to kill a demon lord. so yeah, mobei jun has a nasty broken nose and he wakes up feeling like death warmed over in the middle of the woods but he's alive (this is btw the exact reason that the system was willing to let airplane do it, bc it wasnt gonna kill mobei jun anyway and it was what the og goods did)

and he was JUST conscious enough to see the original goods bash his face in

so mobei jun is sitting there like "okay, yeah, so imma find that fucker and imma enslave him and then when he runs out of use to me, imma kill his ass" because he's angry enough right now that simply killing og!shang qinghua just does Not feel good enough

and their relationship over the years is basically a big game of cat and mouse with them trying to fuck each other over. mostly the original goods trying to kill mobei jun and mobei jun just like "no imma wait to kill him until AFTER ive had a thorough revenge but fuck he makes it tempting to kill him right now" and og!shang qinghua highkey actually reminds him of his uncle. they're both the two-faced type who can smile to your face and stab you in the back and he's sorta thinking "if i cant resist killing one stupid human until the opportune time, how am i going to not kill my uncle??"

and basically it's just like..... lowkey shizaya (drrr!) vibes between them? and look, mobei jun is Very satisfied when he finally kills that worm og!shang qinghua but he also feels a certain loss because even though theres srsly no love lost between them, the original goods was basically mobei jun's companion for longer than anyone else in his life (enemy? frenemy? rival????) and it's just a sort of weird empty feeling after he's dead

and i just like thinking about how Different their relationship was because i like thinking about all of the changes that airplane accidentally created because he really didnt know that much about their original relationship. og!shang qinghua was such a footnote in the novel that there really wasnt any time spent on "oh yeah, og!moshang has a super weird hateship and shang qinghua did backstab mobei jun but that wasnt actually NEW, og!shang qinghua tried to kill off the king of the north at least once a month or so"

anyway i think the distinctions in the relationships are important for moshang reasons, because airplane and og!shang qinghua ARE different people, so they had to have made different decisions over the years, and those differences are why mobei jun was very much in love with airplane and not in love with og!shang qinghua

(altho i do enjoy og!moshang, but i will die on the hill that their relationship is different and whatever love might exist between them would be different. my hcs might not represent accurately how og!moshang's relationship was canonically but i just think it's important to make those distinctions)

but all these thoughts lend themselves to "what if pidw!mobei jun met airplane!shang qinghua?" because look, if they really were collaborating for so many years, he would KNOW og!shang qinghua. and as such, it wouldnt take him long to be like "okay but you're seriously NOT shang qinghua tho?!?!" and i love his confusion. like i dont think he'd show up and be like "guh, shang qinghua, gotta kill that rat again", i think he'd show up and be like "......well thats definitely shang qinghua's skin but that sure as fuck isnt shang qinghua"

and look, i want the chaos of that.

pidw!mobei jun and svsss!mobei jun discussing why the fuck shang qinghua is a completely different person and coming to their own conclusions (also naturally realizing a thing or two about cucumber-bro bc thats the other big notable change between worlds. bing-mei is fine, pidw!mobei jun always know that bing-ge is secretly pathetic)

also potential for kidnapping? like pidw!mobei jun nabs airplane with the intention of learning just who the fuck he is. leaving absolutely no room for discussion bc he's determined to figure this shit out. or maybe he just approaches his other self directly. or fuck it, if he goes straight to bing-mei because he's like "okay this is above my pay grade, boss of this dimension will prolly have an idea of whats happening"

also double penetration with two mobei jun's and one airplane lmfao. look im a simple man with simple pleasures

altho on the note of og!shang qinghua, thinking about this diabolical fuck does have my inner villain fucker thoroughly entertained and i wanna think about au's with both airplane and og!shang qinghua in play

there's always the good ol' sibling au's (which will always make me scream to the fucking sky "why the fuck wasnt airplane given a NAME so that i dont have to make one up for him!!!"), those definitely have the appeal of i can keep airplane!shang qinghua's design the same

so lets go with.... shang jingqi (original flavor) and shang feiyu (airplane), for simplicities sake while i explore stupid au ideas lol

so lesseee shang feiyu is born as shang jingqi's twin but since qinghua is a courtesy name and he doesnt actually know og!shang qinghua's birth name, he just knows that ONE of them is supposed to become "shang qinghua" and get killed by mobei jun. and look, he tries really hard not to get attached to his twin. he's used to keeping emotional distance from family, this should be fine, easy even. his twin even has a sort of asshole personality. so if he just doesnt get attached to shang jingqi and just lets the og plot eat up his twin, everything will be just fine and he can live a peaceful life, right? RIGHT???

but ofc he gets attached. bc even tho shang jingqi has a shitty personality and might actually be the original shang qinghua who backstabbed mobei jun and deserved what he got--look, thats HIS treacherous asshole and shang feiyu is ATTACHED okay

so shang jingqi and shang feiyu BOTH wind up joining cang qiong because shang feiyu isn't gonna just leave his twin to die but also he doesnt wanna die so he's really trying to figure out a third option to figure out how the fuck to dodge this all shang-murderfest thing when one day his brother comes home from a mission like "so i might have murdered a demon lord with a rock??" and shang feiyu is going to FREAK OUT bc either that was mobei jun and he is Not Dead and Coming For Their Asses or it WASNT mobei jun and its someone who would make mobei jun Very Angry if was harmed and shang feiyu is ready to hug as many thighs as he needs to so that they can get out of this alive!!! but shang jingqi already has a bit of a murder-boner for mobei jun, even moreso when he realizes theres like Chemistry between mobei jun and his brother and just Nope. that aint happening.

shang feiyu: i am trying to keep you alive wiLL YOU PLZ STOP TRYING TO PISS OFF THE DEMON LORD?!

shang jingqi: and IM trying to protect your ass from demon cock, thank me later

shang feiyu: ?!?!?! WHAT DOES THAT WHAT

[richardsphere]

the Evilustrhater Kwagatama scene is just fractally bad.

The Evilustrhater Kwagatama scene just... sucks. It breaks down on any level of thought. 1-Only Kwami should be giving out kwagatama. (cause its literally the only bit of agency the little slave-gods have). Mari spends this "giving up her Guardian-authority" scene usurping Tikki's authority. (It doesnt matter if we're meant to "reasonably assume" Tikki gave permision for this. It still should've been Tikki handing it over.) 2-It further unbalances the team dynamics, by putting Rena into a position of at least nominal authority to, at some point in the future, take away Chat's ring, should she decide to do so. Ladybug continues to make decisions that effect the entire team, without consulting any members of her team. (Even Rena wasnt consulted on this decision, and has it foisted on her instead. But then, this might be deliberate if we're getting Ladynoir Conflict/Miraculous Civil War)

3-It erodes Alya's relationship with Trixx. At least on a symbolical level. By giving her a Bug kwagatama, before ever giving her a fox one, thus implying symbolically that her relationship with Tikki is better then her relationship with Trixx. 4-simultaniously it erodes the symbolism of the Kwagatama as trust between Kwami and Hero. Mari needed to be a hero for months living with Tiki side-by-side fighting evil on the daily before Tikki gave her a kwagatama. Adrien only got his in Reunion, thats a season 5 episode. Adrien had to die multiple times, faced multiple apocalyptic threats and prevented World War Three before he got a Kwagatama. (put a pin in that one btw, its going to be relevant later). Alya has only used the Ladybug Miraculous once, and that was seemingly enough. 5-It obviously undermines Fu's sacrifice. Setting up a "just own the magic friendship-necklace and you'll get your memories back" reveal immensely undercuts the weight of Fu's amnesia. To be clear, I was always expecting that they'd find some clever loophole to protect Marinette from said amnesia. But having it be a magic necklace that she's had since Season 2? Saying "the problem was solved before it was even introduced" doesn't so much reduce the threat, as it removes the threat entirely. I was at least expecting her to have to train with the Order or something, finish the training Fu never got to learn how to protect herself in advance, maybe a potion from the Book Fu never deciphered in time? or have someone else on the team figure out how to restore her memories after the fact. (IE: Felix could definitly make a "memory-restoring" senti, Maybe a cameo from Liirii "liberating" her from the chains on her memories.) But saying "Oh, you just needed your Kwami to trust you and you wont ever get Fu-ed" is just... shitty. 6- It casually implies that Fu went through not one, but two World Wars as the Turtle wielder, but never managed to earn Wayz' trust. after all, if he did he'd have a Turtle Kwagatama, and the show would've been much different. --Edit cause i somehow forgot 7- Do we really need a third back-up guardian. We already had the guy from Ephemeral, and Luka went to the order to train for that very same position.

[floralpools]

hihi!!

i loved ur dean blurb and i was wondering if you could do a similar one, but for sam?? and possibly make them enemies to lovers type beat

you're such a good writer too btw :))

a/n: tysm for the support!! ofc I gotta follow up with some sam content, enjoy🫦

Hungry Eyes

Warnings: Minors dni; Smut, side-wind, unprotected, m!receiving, overstimulation, language, some angst, size-kink

Pairing: Sam Winchester x you

Summary: You're a hunter, familiar with Sam and Dean's work —and that wasn't a good thing. So, it took no time at all for you to bump heads with the youngest brother, though it becomes difficult to ignore the underlying attraction there.

Word Count: 2k

...

You crouched low behind the thick underbrush, breathing steadily as you surveyed the clearing ahead. The late afternoon sun painted the scene in golden hues, illuminating the blurry figures of two men, struggling against a group of snarling demons. Your heart raced—not from fear, but from that familiar adrenaline. You had been trained for this, to hunt the monsters that lurked in the shadows, and protect those in need.

Just as you braced yourself for a fight, unexpectedly, you recognized one of them. Sam Winchester... The hunter who had opened the gates of Hell, fed on demon blood, and dismantled every hunter's code in a hungry pursuit for power. He and his companion matched their descriptions spot on, and a swell of anger surged within you, merging with the adrenaline.

The Winchesters were the last people you wanted to help, rumoured as selfish and pathetic, yet there they were, fighting valiantly to save a young girl caught in a demon’s grasp.

Against your better judgment, you emerged from your hiding spot. You rushed into the fray, taking down one demon with a swift slice of your charmed blade. It felt surreal; to combat alongside a man you despised by name. As you worked together, you couldn’t deny the rhythm that formed between you, each of you covering the other’s blind spots.

When the last demon fell, silence enveloped the clearing. You stood panting, blood pumping violently through your veins. You then narrowed your gaze onto Sam and an unfamiliar warmth bloomed in your chest. He was dishevelled and dirty, but even covered in grime, you could see the strength in his handsome features. 

But that warmth twisted into disdain as you recalled why you hated him. “You’re lucky I don’t bleed you out myself Winchester,” you spit hostility, using your sleeve to wipe your blade clean as you turned away. You felt his heated stare bore into your back. It was a mix of confusion and something deeper, but you didn’t allow yourself to dwell on it. 

“Right,” he snapped rather sarcastically, voice low, clearly stung. “Thanks for the help, I guess," he uttered, followed by a mumble of, "Whoever you are."

You rolled your eyes. His wounded pride brought you a sense of satisfaction. You liked not having bothered with the usual pleasantries between fellow hunters, or even an introduction. However, you couldn't shake how painfully aware you were of how attractive he looked. Your mind warred with your heart, anger battling lure.

Months passed since then, and fate had an unsettling way of pulling you deeper into the web of chaos that surrounded the Winchesters. One evening, on a cool January night, after a particularly gruelling encounter with a demon, you found yourself in the same motel room as Sam. You both got soaked by an abrupt tidal of rain, and though you changed into some of the boy's spare clothes, Sam made no effort to switch out of his drenched attire.

He sat on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped, head in his hands. A heavy, uncomfortable silence filled the air, dense with the weight of loss and failure. Another causality was had, and it seemed to affect Sam in a different way than you and his brother, who have grown disturbingly desensitized to death.

You observed Sam, and something inside you softened as you recalled the stories you’d heard—how he had lost so much, which later led to all the Hellfire and bloodshed. The vexation you carried for him began to fade, replaced by a deep-seated empathy. Your instincts kicked in, and without thinking, you approached him.

“Sam?” You called softly. He didn’t respond, the shadows of despair looming over him like a shroud. Disturbed by his silence, you knelt beside him, uncertain yet compelled to bridge the gap between you two. With a tentative hand, you rested it lightly on his back, which tensed, muscles tautening under your cool touch.

When he finally looked up, his eyes were glassy, filled with unshed tears, though they held you with such an acute regard. Without a word, you sat down beside him, the side of your thigh flush against his when you embraced him. It was an impulsive act, a comfort that transcended what defined your strange relationship. Surprisingly, he melted into you, his body shaking with silent sobs. He clearly was desperate for someone to lean on, especially with his brother still outside tracking the monster that attacked you all. 

Minutes passed in that quiet cocoon of shared grief before he pulled back and peered down at you with a vulnerability so scalding, that you nearly shied away. His gaze was disarming and it had a glint of something you had only seen momentarily, on the day you met.

Then his eyes darkened, demeanour shifting. You inhaled sharply and held that breath. The warmth of his presence, so close, burned your skin like a fever —and then he kissed you. The world stilled and the only sensation you felt was the soft, tentative flesh pressing against your lips. It was more of a question rather than a demand; It was gentle —just like you'd grown to understand Sam was.

After a second of hesitance, you shoved his buff chest away with both hands. “No,” you spoke firmly, heart stuttering. “You’re just… you need comfort right now. This isn’t fair," you expressed, though you were unsure of who it was 'unfair' to.

Sam's brows furrowed, daze soon morphing into frustration. “You think I’m just looking for comfort?” He asked before sighing your name, his voice hoarse, thick with disbelief and pure frustration. You shuddered at the depths of his tone. “I want you. I'm tired of pretending that I don’t.”

His words hung in the air, laden with a truth that veered your perspective entirely. The walls you had built began to crumble, and all the reasons you had for hating him felt hollow. You couldn't even look into his puppy-dog eyes, as they surveyed every emotion that flickered across your face.

“Sam,” you whispered, grappling with the surge of feelings you had been filing away, that was now threatening to overwhelm you. “I—”

But he leaned in again, capturing your lips with his, leaving no room for doubt. This time, you didn’t retract into yourself. Instead, you thawed against him, eagerly allowing his larger frame to envelop yours.

The kiss grew frantic and you clawed at his thin, wet shirt as you wrapped around him. He then threw you onto his lap so you straddled his stocky thighs. Sam groaned into your mouth and you swallowed it with a pleasant hum. He cupped your head and pulled you deeper into his pressing kiss as if time were against you both.

Your hands roamed down his spine, keen to remove his clothes. You reached the hem of his shirt and lifted it. Sam instantly convulsed against your body and gasped away from your mouth. He let go of you, hands hovering beside your face as he paused, lost in a trance. Suddenly, his stupor cut short and he swiftly refocused on your body, eyes tracing your torso. He gulped before flipping you both. You land on your back, bouncing slightly on the mattress, releasing a yelp of surprise before Sam kneeled above you, mouth agape as he tore off his shirt, throwing it across the room. He then lowered his face to yours, frantic to taste your mouth again. You whimpered when his cold hands moved under your shirt and unclipped your bra.

After he worked off most of your clothes, leaving you in just your undergarments, your hands zipped to his belt, unbuckling it. He grunted before he began an assault on your neck, sucking it, likely leaving numerous hickeys in his wake. “Sam,” you whined, weaving your fingers into his silky hair. “Sam, I need more,” you whined some more, losing the strength in your body while he caged you in, holding you firm against him.

“More?” He questioned, mouth releasing your skin to peer up at you. His dilated pupils surveyed you, brow arching. “Yes,” you whispered airily. Biting your lip, your gaze darted to his undone buckle, hoping he would finish the job. Understanding your wordless request, he rose to tear off the rest of his clothes. You suck in a terse breath at the sight of his naked body, wetting your lips. He was big in every way and you were desperate to feel his weight atop you again.

“Come here,” you whispered seductively, stretching your arms out to him. He promptly accepted your embrace and dropped down to your level. You both sighed into one another, recognizing that this was what you both needed all along. “Jesus, how long have I been waiting for you?” He asked, murmuring to himself. Before you got the chance to respond, the head of his cock pressed against your clit, slowly sliding to your entrance.

You held eye contact with Sam, mouth wide open as he pushed into you, bottoming out in one motion. The air fled your lungs in a single exhale and you're left gasping for breath. You felt Sam watching, observing your bare chest as it rose and fell before kissing you hungrily. His tongue slipped into your mouth, memorizing every square inch.

You moaned loudly when he finally moved. It didn’t take long for him to build up a rhythm. Suddenly, he disregarded that tempo and pulled away from your kiss to straighten up. He then took one of your thighs and threw it over top of your other leg, positioning you on your side. His palms cupped your hip and you groaned at the change-up.

Sam eyed you, visibly pleased by the new angle. He then started pounding, roughly ramming into you, skin smacking against your lower half. The collision was loud and the room was crowded by your sobs and Sam’s grunts.

When you reached your gut-churning orgasm, clenching around him, he hoisted up the leg he had flipped, tossing it over his shoulder, gaining more access to you. You shouted and whimpered but he didn’t relent, letting out a week's worth of frustration, toward you, and the universe. He growled your name once, and with that, he carelessly came inside you.

“Fuck,” he rumbled, head tilting down in pure exhaustion. Your eyes fluttered shut as his warmth filled your core, making your body quake. Then he removed his hefty build from your limp one, rising to fall back down to your side. Sam hissed as he left your center, huffing as he dropped onto the soft cushion.

You watched him as he took the time to catch his breath, eyes closed. He was so vulnerable in front of a woman who had threatened him, several times, and it was an alarming sight. To have Sam simply breathe you in, and take you savagely, as if you were his first meal in decades.

Your mouth practically watered at the view of him after sex, tousled hair and sweat glistening across his forehead. Biting your inner cheek, your hands slowly glided towards Sam’s cock. His eyes shot open —wild and stunned— before they squeezed shut again when you applied pressure. You fisted his length, stroking him till you felt cum leak from his tip.

You rubbed him a few times, listening intently to every breath and groan that left his throat. It didn’t take long for him to cum a second time. He just about whimpered your name, weak to your touch, liquefying further into the bed. His hands quickly gripped your wrists when you continued to stroke him even after his orgasm. A faint smirk tugged at his lips, almost in exasperation, though you knew that was his usual play with sarcasm.

“You're killing me here,” he murmured breathlessly, to which you grinned smugly, whispering into his ear, “Don’t tempt me Winchester.”

[moldybonessmell]

"Deadpool and Wolverine": queercoding analysis of Poolverine in the movie

// SPOILERS

//Disclaimer: This is NOT a hate post to Vanessa/Wade shipp, but if you ship them, this post is probably not for you.

I've seen a few queerbaiting allegations and, frankly, don't agree with them. Now I'll explain why.

Starting with the fact that movie begins as a typical reasoning for a character to get a new love interest: we find out Wade and Vanessa broke up after roughly 7-8 years together.

Either we don't know (or I just don't remember lol) for how long they've been separate, but it was enough time for Vanessa to get in a new relationship.

And we know that the reason for this breakup is the core differences between the two. In the previous movie they wanted to get a child and Wade's entire motivation was based around Vanessa. In this movie tho, it seems like even if Wade is still not completely over breakup, he seems to be compliant with the fact they are not together anymore. You would expect Wade to go and do something silly to Nessa's new guy, but he doesn't. He respects her decidion.

Wade has more of an existentioal crisis than just hurting from the breakup. So I would assume he's not over because he feels like he messed up and keeps giving sad puppy eyes holding on this romantic relationship with Vanessa. Tho they are still soulmates and friends no matter what.

I don't know about you, but for me this exposition doesn't look like a foreshadowing of Vanessa and Wade getting back together. Vanessa is happy and self-actualised on her own, even if Wade is not.

I don't see Wade trying to change as an act of trying to get back with Vanessa. He reacts like this because his family member pointed out his flaws.

Secondly, the only other "hints" for a relationship between Wade and Vanessa is him remembering how they kissed and in the end Vanessa holding Wade's hand. Which, let me point out, is not a typical trope to show characters are back together. You know what's typical? A KISS! Which never happened btw.

Not to be this person, but we all know Disney/Marvel haven't got the balls to show a canon queer relationship. So the only "hints" for Vanessa/Wade seem to either read as platonic, or purely as an attempt of Disney to be like !look! female love interest!.

Now, other important part. If you really think about it, referencing the first part of the post, the movie follows an enemies-to lovers romantic movie formula:

(optional) breakup with previous partner;

annoyance first (previous deadpool movies);

admiration upon actual meeting (even if Wade acts cocky, when you listen to him telling the story about how his universe's Logan saved Laura, you can clearly see he adores the hero, who, as we know, is relatively similar throughout multiverse. Wade knows this Logan has the same morals as other ones, hearing how he regrets not being able to help his x-men);

"having to" go on an adventure/quest together even tho they are annoyed at each other;

enemies bickering and fighting because they have differences (which are actually similarities between the two which drive them insane when they see this mirroring);

the breaking point and confrontation (the Logan monologue in the car scene);

*the close proximity tention* hate fucking as a spicy way to get over the argument (in the car scene they are shown to fight just for the sake of letting out steam);

the cold period when characters ignore each other because they are still pissed (when Laura got the two to her base);

getting over it and working together, trusting that the other got their back;

saving the world with the power of love brotherhood with romantic soundtrack on;

both staying alive and having a heart-to-heart conversation;

one wants to leave, but the other stops them (usually it would be followed up with a kiss but oh well);

officially meeting a parental figure of one of the characters and moving in together as in an established relationship.

I don't think I'm delusional if I say I haven't seen brotherhood media (ones without queerbaiting or actual siblings) that would follow this formula. But I did see romantic storylines.

All in all, Wade and Logan go through a development and establishment of a relationship. And I'm not even talking about the obvious "one being there when other lost everything and giving them a new family and home".

In the movie there are so many romantic tropes of these CANONICALLY QUEER CHARACTERS, which make it safe to assume that queercoding is in fact happening. I would argue about it if both of them were straight in the source material, but this is the best and most important part, they are not :)

And this is why "Deadpool & Wolverine" is actually a romcom. Thank you for reading!

[millenianthemums]

just rewatched all of hlvrai (in one sitting. i’m doing fine mentally btw) and it made me think about the fine line between comedy and horror. because those videos constantly dance back and forth across that line, which is funny in itself, but also there’s some scary-ass implications in that series. most of them involving Dr. Coomer, of course. because the fact that he’s a normal NPC with flashes of sentience and tiny moments of scary behavior that he immediately moves on from is a joke. it’s funny. but then there are the parts where it isn’t.

like, as an example. there’s that one moment near the end when Gordon goes back in time and talks to a past version of Coomer. he’s frantically begging Coomer to help him get back to the boss fight he just came from while Coomer’s still just trying to give the usual NPC spiel that the scientists give at the beginning of the game. but then Gordon says that Coomer can take all his PlayCoins™️ if he just helps him get back to the other dimension. and Coomer (who i just realized was probably not self-aware yet at that point, and maybe even woke up because of this conversation) is confused at first, and then pauses and whispers “Why do i know what those are…?”

and maybe it was just Holly’s delivery that made that moment in particular stick out in my head (i’ve really gotta give her credit, she’s a fantastic performer and her incredible improv is the whole reason this character is so great) but it’s just such a haunting moment. it’s far from the first or most blatant example of Dr. Coomer being confused by his own knowledge of the mechanics of the game he’s in, but the subtle horror in his voice contrasting with his chipper demeanor right before that really gets me. i also think part of it is because it happens in a quiet, mostly serious scene for once, and they actually linger for a second on the concept of Coomer realizing his world is fake

to tie it back into the “line between comedy and horror” thing, i feel like that sums up the difference between the two. a lot of people say horror is comedy with no punchline, and i think that’s mostly true, but it’s also a little more specific than that. i think comedic works will sometimes make it part of the joke that a situation is creepy, but they’re not dwelling on it. the fact that something’s freaky but everyone’s brushing it off is funny. but that same work can become straight-up horror when you make the audience sit with those implications. when you say “no, we’re not moving on from this. we’re examining this. we’re looking straight at this. you don’t get to look away.”

[mikelogan]

hey!! would you mind doing a tutorial on how you blend your gifs? they're so perfect! if not, then that's fine but thanks anyway :)

hi there! first of all, thank you for the kind words, i appreciate it so much! and i'm always more than happy to make tutorials! below the cut i'll do my best to explain my process when it comes to creating blended gifs like these:

original gifset

original gifset

original gifset

original gifset

disclaimer that i in no way consider myself an expert when it comes to blending. i actually struggle with it quite a bit sometimes and there are tons of gifmakers far more talented than myself. here's a link to all the blending tutorials i've come across for my other blog @gifmakerresource just in case!

when it comes to blending two or more scenes/shots together, i cannot overstate how important the scenes you choose are. i'll go more in depth on this in a moment, but there have been so many times when i'm making gifs like the ones above where i spend ages testing out different scenes together to see if they'll actually work and give me the desired effect.

so, what should you be looking for when selecting your scenes? in my opinion, what's most important (and can therefore cause you the most trouble) is lighting and contrast. dark on dark is what blends best. now, you can obviously tweak these things using adjustment layers, but i think it's best to set yourself up for success right from the very start.

if we look at my first and last examples above the cut (luke in hill house and pruitt in midnight mass), these are the two that show this the best. the scene of adult luke is high in contrast to begin with; we've got areas of bright highlights and dark shadows and the latter are the areas where the blending shows through the most clearly. luke's hair and shirt are darker as is young luke's shirt and hat. the same can be seen in the midnight mass example. both scenes are on the darker side to begin with, but the shot of pruitt praying is silhouetted and makes for very stark contrast, allowing the shot of the angel's blood to be seen most easily in the darkest parts.

now, a lot of this does and can come down to trial and error and i want to make a point of saying that before i get into the actual process. there have been numerous times when i'm working on gifs like these where i have to try out multiple different shots and scenes until i find something that works. sometimes, i just save what i've done so far as a psd and go work on something else for a while, and then i can come back and look at everything with fresh eyes at a later time -- never underestimate the power of doing this, btw. some of my most popular and most favorite sets have happened as a direct result of taking a break!

now it's finally time for what you came here for! how do you do this? i'll walk you through this step by step and for now, i'm just going to be walking through 2 gifs blended into one. i've done 3 and even 4 blended into one, but they are outliers adn should not be counted. blenders georg, who created photoshop and blends over 10,000 gifs a day -- [gunshots]

step 1: make your base gifs. i'm assuming basic gifmaking knowledge, but if you need some help there, here's a tag on my resource blog with all beginner gifmaking tutorials (and i'm willing to make one of my own, personal process if anyone shows interest).

i'm mostly talking converting them to timeline and into a smart object. each person's process varies a little, but i personally use an action i made that converts from frames to timeline and applies the sharpening settings i use all in one. it's entirely up to you if you want to color your gifs before or after you have them on one canvas. in this case, i colored mine after, so this is what i have right now. two separate sharpened but un-colored gifs.

as an added note, when i'm blending gifs, i almost always keep them at their original dimensions until i bring them to the new canvas. i find it easier to position them where i want them and then crop to my desired dimensions. that way i don't have to worry that i accidentally cut something off. but for the purposes of this tutorial, i'm using my psd from this gif, which has been cropped to 540px x 500px.

step 2: bring both gifs onto a new canvas. as i just stated, the dimensions of this particular gif are 540px x 500px. if you're unfamiliar with tumblr's dimensions, i whipped this up. what matters is the width, whereas the height can be whatever you want. i saw something recently (though i can't find it now, of course) that said the middle gif in the row of 3 was no longer 178px and is now also 177px, but take that with a grain of salt! the gutters (the automatic spaces between gifs that tumblr puts in) are 4px.

so, since this is a single gif in a row, the width must be 540. bear in mind that the larger your dimensions, the larger the gif file will be and tumblr's upload limit is 10mb per gif. with blended gifs typically being on the larger end, i try to keep mine somewhere between 35-50 frames. this particular one is 35, which along with 40 frames is what i most commonly use.

create a new canvas with your desired dimensions and either copy your gifs to it or drag them onto it. you should have something like this now:

for now, ignore the other layers. as i said, using my psd of the completed gif.

step 3: add a black fill layer. this step is personal preference and therefore completely optional, but when blending, i always add an all black layer at the very bottom of all my layers. i find it helps when using layer masks (more on that soon) to make the blends appear more seamless. play around and see if you like it or not!

to create this layer, i use the keyboard shortcut (i'm on pc) ctrl+shift+N and then press G to call up the paint fill tool. once you have the color selected, just click anywhere on the canvas and it fills it. then drag this layer to the very bottom, beneath all other layers.

alternatively, you can go to layer -> new fill layer -> solid color -> choose your color but i heart keyboard shortcuts.

step 4: set the blending mode of each gif layer to SCREEN. right now, we can only see the layer that's on top. when you switch the blending modes from normal to screen, the blending begins! this is also where you can move your gifs around until you find the best placement for each one.

brb, crying about baby luke for the 800th time.

step 5: color! if i haven't already colored my gifs, i would likely do it now. that way, when i go to apply the layer masks, i'll know i'm working with a mostly-finished product coloring-wise. this is what i have now:

you can see just how important the contrast of lights and darks becomes. look at the difference between how visible the right side of young luke's face/hat is before coloring compared to after. when we lighten the highlights and darken the shadows, the blending becomes much more apparent.

step 6: layer masks! before i even tell you how to use them, we need to know how to apply them. you'll do this a layer/gif at a time. with one gif selected, press this button:

and you'll now have this:

that selected white box is our layer mask. now do the same to the other gif layer. you should see this:

now that we've applied our layer masks, what are they for and how do we utilize them? layer masks allow you to, at their most basic, adjust specific parts of a single layer without permanently deleting them. the beauty of layer masks is that you can get rid of a certain area on a gif and if you realize later you want to bring some of it back, you can! all by using the colors black and white and, in this case, a soft round brush.

the most important part of working with layer masks is that you make sure the mask itself is what's selected. in the last image, the layer masks are NOT selected. in the one before, the layer mask IS selected. you can always tell because of the little borders around the corners of the mask. if you find something isn't working quite right, chances are that's your issue (speaking from personal experience).

as i said, we're only working with black and white here. using your brush tool (press B on your keyboard), select a soft, round brush. i personally set the hardness to 0 for the most gentle fade possible. i don't want hard edges in my blends. the size of the brush depends on how large of an area you're working with. sometimes i'll go all the way up to 150px+ and other times, i'll be well below 50px. the smaller the better for more detailed work. black (#000000) erases and white (#ffffff) brings your image back.

for a visual example, with a black brush, i'm going to mask an area of adult luke:

pretty obvious, right? because both layers are set to screen, masking an area of adult luke's gif reveals young luke's gif. because that area of the gif is no longer blending with anything, we see it purely with its coloring. now i'm going to take a smaller brush and switch the color to white (to do this quickly, pressing X on your keyboard will switch between the two colors [foreground and background] on your color picker).

you can see the lines/cuts where i ran the brush through the mask and it brought back the parts of adult luke we'd erased. if we did this same thing on young luke's gif, black would erase young luke and reveal adult luke and white would bring back young luke. i know this might sound a little confusing, and even though i knew a fair bit about layer masks before i started giffing again last year, there was still a learning curve for me.

now that we have our layer masks, we need to identify which parts of which gif we want to mask/erase. for this one in particular, i didn't like that adult luke's ear was smack dab in the middle of young luke's face. to remedy this, i selected the layer mask on adult luke's layer and, using a fairly sizeable black brush, i colored over young luke's face and up into the top-right corner. i wanted to see more of his hat and because that area was so light, i covered that whole part. this is what my gif and layer mask looked like after:

the black on the little layer mask corresponds to where i colored on the gif. now that corner only shows young luke's gif and his face is much clearer without an ear in the middle of it.

step 7: that's it! maybe.

in theory, this could be a completed gif. from here on out, nothing changes as far as blending or layer masks. you could save and export this and upload it and be done. but in this case, i just didn't like the coloring. because mike flanagan wants to see me suffer, his shit is almost impossible to color and i just didn't like the difference in coloring between present day adult luke and 90s young luke. this is also part of a larger gifset with a color scheme.

regardless of that though, i have to confess that i do this almost every. single. time. i make gifs like these. i slap a big fat gradient map on those puppies and somehow they look 10x better to me. i scrolled back through a shit load of my gifs and i only found 2 examples of blended gifs that weren't under a gradient map. oops. maybe this is the easy way out or maybe i just love colors, but idk i think it helps them look more cohesive! if you're interested, read on. if not, that's pretty much it!

if you still have questions or encounter any problems after following this tutorial, PLEASE let me know! i'm more than happy to clarify things or help out if i can! otherwise, check out some of the other blending tutorials i linked at the beginning! if you'd like me to make tutorials for anything else, feel free to send an ask, anon or not! i'm quite literally always happy to help as i don't believe in gatekeeping resources or knowledge!

step 8: i ended up applying two gradient maps on this gif. it's important that these go on top of all your other layers (namely, the gif layers). if you're unfamiliar, you click this to apply a gradient map:

then you'll see this:

photoshop automatically applies a gradient map using your current foreground and background colors. to edit the colors, click on the map itself (my arrow). unless you're going for an inverted x-ray sort of look, your darker color needs to be on the left and the lighter one needs to be on the right. click on the bottom color points to change their colors:

normally, the right one will be all the way to the end, but moving it in will let more white show through and brighten the image, which i wanted in this case.

my second gradient is the green one, which looks like this and goes from #211f20 to #88a188.

i encourage you to play around with gradient maps. as you adjust the colors, you'll see the changes live as long as you pull the window to the side a little bit. i think they're super fun and can completely change the vibe and aesthetic of a gifset.

from here, i added my typography (lyrics, naturally) and then exported and saved the gif! and here we have this gif that literally made me cry while i made it because HE WAS SUCH A BABY

again, i hope this helps and if you have any further or other questions, don't hesitate to ask!

[blublublujk]

i just fucked your girl (and she loved it)

oneshot

word count: 11k

genre: established relationship (reader x namjoon), dark/morally gray characters and decisions

pairings: ghost hoseok x y/n and y/n x fiancé namjoon

summary:

A very lonely, horny ghost comes to haunt your dreams (and fulfills your every sexual desire).

warnings: oh my god get ready this is gonna get long. swearing, cheating?? (is it really cheating if he's dead? i'll let you decide), explicit sexual content; sexual "nightmares", unprotected vaginal sex AND anal (ITS TIME :D), rough sex, sub/dom dynamics, no safe word, submission, dirty talk, hoseok refers to people he comes across as victims (he doesn't force anyone i promise, not unless they want to ofc), masturbation, fingering, petplay? (the reader likes being called kitten), slight hand kink, slut shaming (oopsies), use of spit (oops again), use of lube, hickeys, lots of begging, hoseok's a bit mean but the ending will make it up a bit ISTG, namjoon's an innocent sweetheart, reader feels a lot of guilt, ass play (YAY), rimming (YAY pt2), mentions to gay sex and clown kink (you'll see), hoseok's like a ghost sex worker and the reader sorta manifests him, sex toys, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, come shot, blowjob, hair pulling, daddy kink, breast play, creampie, a bit of a sad/angsty ending, so sorry if anything is missing I RLLY TRIED

btw there's sex scenes between namjoon and the reader AND hoseok and the reader so they both get their share.

a.n: happy fucking halloween. sorry this got a little sad towards the end, but i hope you guys love it as much as i do. i think i'll live in this world for a while. i'm so obsessed with this probably, my favorite work yet. i think this is my smuttiest work too? idk. i was gonna delete like half of it because i hate myself sometimes but i figured you guys would enjoy something a little longer so i typed and typed until my lil heart desired and this beast was created. btw i finished this at exactly 6:13pm. i thought i'd let yall know, if anyone's as crazy as me :D im so curious what you guys think about this one so feel free to comment (only if you want too ofc ^.^) idk when i'll be back with something new but please be patient with me. i promise im not leaving lol i just get busy. OKIE THIS IS SO LONG SORRY AND ENJOY. byeee <3

p.s. i do plan to write an epilogue cuz this got crazy at the end. so much left unsaid. my brain is sooo... lol

—> m.list

—> welcome me on ao3 & twt

--

It was the same damn nightmare. 

For the past three weeks you had been waking up in coldsweat, heart nearly beating out of your chest, breathing so out of control. You could barely hold yourself up.

And still somehow, you woke up drenching your panties of your own slick arousal.

It was the same nightmare from yesterday, the day before that, and the day before that. You would end up in a dark, ominous apartment. It was yours, but somehow different. The apartment was pitch black, flashing red lights from time-to-time, as if someone in the building had pulled the emergency alarm. You would crumble in your bed, closing your eyes and praying it would end soon. That’s when he would appear. 

A man in all black, long dark tousled hair. His teeth were bright, you could tell by the smile on his face while he watched you wither away in your sheets. The glow in his dull, sharp eyes would shine even in the dark. 

He watched as you squirmed in your bed, feeling heavy, unable to stand by your own strength.

“Don’t force it, darling. Take what you need.” The stranger would say with a strong raspy tone, smelling your arousal fall into the sheets below your bottom. You were always bare in your nightmares as if you were waiting and submitting for him.

You couldn’t resist the feeling. At his call, your fingers would come to relieve the ache between your thighs. Playing with yourself as if you were alone, but it was far from the truth. He would watch as you pumped yourself two fingers deep, sighing and whimpering, satisfied that you no longer felt empty. 

Sometimes, well no most times, he would join you in your nightmares. He would tear your hands from your leaking cunt sparing mercy and you would complain against your sheets. The stranger wasn’t that bad, not for long at least, because he would fill you with his own two fingers, his eyes would dilate watching you fall apart. He was smooth and precise, he would curve his fingers, hitting your g-spot right on target, loving the sinful sounds you made as you arched your back and yelled moans without holding back. 

Once he was satisfied and right as you were about to explode, he would pull away, whipping his hard, swollen cock out of his pants and tugs on himself, forcing you to watch as he pleased himself . Of course you wanted it, but this was so wrong, very wrong. 

The worst part is he wouldn’t just give it to you, he would make you beg for it. “Talk to me baby, you want it?”

You would shake your head, denying him and trying to pull yourself from under him, but realistically it is all you wanted. You wanted to taste the beads that fell from the slit of his hard cock. He was fucking big and that itself made you go fucking insane, his hands wrapped around his length nicely. You tried to stop your thoughts from going any further, but your imagination was a powerful thing, thinking about how his pretty hands would feel wrapped around your throat instead of his dick. 

“Oh, you don’t? Maybe I’ll just leave you like this then.” He would say and it fucked with your head. 

That was the last thing you wanted. “But– m’ so empty.”

“Then beg for it slut, you don’t have to be empty and lonely for long.” His tongue was smooth and wet against your skin as he licked down your throat, sucking little marks onto your skin. He had you wrapped around his fucking fingers and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it. You wanted to move but at the same time, you wanted him to have his way with you. God can forgive you for this later. 

“I c-can’t.” 

“What a shame. I’ll just take care of myself and leave you here to watch.” He would start pumping his cock faster, tugging at the crown of his length. 

You made an agonizing sound of complaint. “Please.”

“Please what little kitten?” 

He was mean. So mean. 

And you were fucking stupid. 

“Please, f-fuck me.” You begged so sweetly.

The man would smile sinisterly before shoving himself deep inside you, forcing a scream of pleasure. He was not gentle in any way and you fucking liked that. As sick as it was.

He fucked you like his only mission was to make you come and drive you insane, pushing your legs far apart and brutally fucking deep into your walls.

He would watch you fall into your sheets, murmuring noncoherent words, completely submitting to the stranger you fell apart in his complete mercy. 

What an honor. 

“That's it baby. Squirt all over my dick.” His voice was always deep and you swore you could hear a smirk between his words. 

Like magic his words would rip intense orgasms out of you and he would fuck you through them all until you eventually collapsed unconscious.

You wake up in a gasp, the wet feeling between your legs nearly makes you gag. 

This can’t be. Not again.

“Baby, wake up.” A voice calls gently, soft hands soothe your back, patting and rubbing gently. “It’s just a nightmare, love. I’m here.”

“Joonie?”

“Yes baby. I’m here, go back to bed. I’ve got you.” His calm voice manages to settle the beating drum of your heart and still, this is the exact problem with these recurring nightmares. 

Even as your fiancé rubs circles into your back, all you can think of is the hands of that strange man that would fuck you into a delrious state. You hated it. It felt too close to cheating. 

If only Namjoon saw what your nightmares truly consisted of, he would be horrified and disgusted. Every night was worse, the guilt slowly started building in the pit of your stomach as you would daydream about the nightmare over and over and over. 

…

“You okay baby?” Namjoon’s voice was gentle, aware that your mind was somewhere else during dinner.

“I- yes.” But you weren’t okay. Not one bit. Flashbacks of the man in your nightmares would haunt your thoughts. These nightmares would play in your head like old memories.

His hooded eyes watching as you fucked yourself open. He would whisper things like, ‘that’s it kitten, so fucking wet all for me’ and ‘good kitten, nice and tight for me’. 

“Imagine what your fiancé would do if he saw the way you squirm in my hands. He could never fuck you the way I could, kitten. Isn't that right? Only I fuck you exactly the way you like it. My little submissive kitten.” 

“Please.” Begging is all you could muster to do in your dreams. You felt pathetic. You never wanted someone so bad. The guilt only grew stronger when you realized you were fucking addicted to your own dreams. You started chasing these nightmares. 

What was wrong with you? 

“Baby?” Namjoon called your attention once again, smiling apologetically. “You feeling okay? Your face is quite flushed.”

Your hands fall onto your face feeling the slight burn against your palms. “Sorry. I’m okay, just a little hot in here is all.” 

“It’s the end of October baby. It’s been really cold out. I’m surprised you aren't begging me to warm you up by now.” He tries to carry the conversation into a lighter, more casual matter. 

A nervous smile breaks out onto your lips, as you brush a piece of hair out of your face. “Must just be experiencing hot flashes. It happens when I’m a bit more stressed than usual.”

“Anything you wanna talk about? You know you can talk to me.” He’s sweet and present for you as usual. You feel your heart drop thkining about how this is what you are missing out on by feeding into those stupid fucking nightmares. Something had to change. 

Wake up, Y/N. 

“Yeah, I know babe. It’s nothing to worry about. Just work stuff.” You make an excuse for yourself and it seems to work, for now. 

“Mm, okay. Don’t be afraid to come to me for anything. I don’t want you suffering alone.” Your fiancé places a hand on top of yours, squeezing it softly. 

“Thank you, Joonie.” This time you give him a real smile, but the guilt still stays hidden deep inside you watching as he reciprocates the smile back at you.

“There’s my beautiful bride-to-be. Stop worrying so much baby. Maybe you should take some time off from work. You know sleep usually makes you feel better. It always has. My sleepy girl.” 

And there it goes and hits you all at once again. 

Guilt. So much guilt. Sleep doesn’t even feel enough these days. The nightmares make you feel as if you never rest. You are clearly aware that dreams aren’t real life, but you even wake up sore from them. It’s scary how realistic it all feels. Maybe that’s why this makes it worse for you. Everything feels too real.

“Yeah… I’ll think about it.” But you won't because time off means resting and resting means more sleep and more time for these nightmares to keep haunting you. It’s like you will never win. 

“Eat your dinner baby, it's getting cold.” 

—-

The daydreams continue even at work. 

“Let me see that perfect ass, kitten. Turn around for me.” 

It’s like he completely owns you, hypnotized by his voice. You immediately present for him, face down and ass up sitting so nicely. 

“Fuck kitten, look at you. Tell me, does that lame fiancé of yours ever play with this ass?” 

You whimper a ‘no’ feeling a glob of spit drip into your unused, virgin hole. His thumb caressing the wet ring of muscle, watching you clench around nothing.

“I’ll change that soon, kitten. Just how you like it.” 

Namjoon wasn’t necessarily opposed to butt stuff, the one time you mentioned it he briefly dismissed it. Granted, he was busy at the time with some work, and you were too embarrassed to bring it up again. 

It seems you got lucky nonetheless. 

The man blows hot air into your wet hole, his lips felt soft against your ass. He would leave a kiss here and there before his tongue peaked out and circled around your rim. 

“Yes, yes, yes.” You weren’t the most vocal sexual partner yet somehow, under his touch, you were the loudest. 

Moans fell dangerously loud from your lips as he would continue to fuck his tongue deep inside your ass. Stopping every few seconds to stare at your puffy rim, gaping around nothing. Fuck, what a sight for sore eyes you were. 

“Please.” 

“What baby?” His palm was heavy against your ass, watching it bounce back. 

“More.” You would beg. 

“Anything.” He would purr back. 

A thumb circled around the velvety muscle before pushing right in, fucking his thumb alongside spit that dripped from his mouth. 

Yes. Just how you like it.

“Y/N?” Your coworker brushes a hand against your shoulder. “You doing okay?” 

“Shit– yeah, my bad Yoona. I’ve just been feeling a bit sick lately, I think I’m coming down with a cold.” Which is a complete lie, but how do you tell your coworker you’re having wet daydreams about another man (who by the way only exists in your imagination) that isn’t your fiancé and that it is taking over every part of your life and that the guilt of it all sits heavy on your chest as days pass by and there is nothing you can do about it, but indulge in these dreams and practically live in them because you’ve become an addict. 

Yoona breathes out a light hum. “You don’t seem sick.” 

Fuck.

“Yeah… well it’s just starting, my throat feels dry and sore these days.”

“Maybe you should take a day off?” She suggests. 

“Yeah, maybe.” You agree just so she gets off your back. 

“You’ve been working a lot these days anyways. I’m sure Mr. Gyun wouldn’t mind if you called off. You’re one of his favorites anyways.” She laughs and you fake a smile. 

“Yeah, right. I’ll think about it. Let's just focus on work. We need this revised and sent off by Monday.” 

“Sure sure. But I’m being serious, take a day off or two, you look like you need it. You seem… tired?” She says, worrying by the sound of her tone. 

Because you know she will never let this go, you reassure her. “Yoona, I love you to death, but don’t worry too much, okay? I’ll take some time off if it gets worse. Thank you, really.”

“Alright, just looking after you Y/N. Your soon-to-be husband would kill me if I didn't.”

“I’ll tell him you’re doing a great job, now back to the transcripts…”

—-

You knew the night would eventually come. 

There was only so much you could ignore and forget. 

A sudden rush of heat wakes you from one of your nightmares, the jolt in your body scaring Namjoon awake beside you. You knew that he meant no trouble, but he gave you the face of ‘this again?’ and you could no longer push it aside. 

“Baby?” Namjoon’s voice is tired and filled with sleep, but he asks anyways while patting your back gently, as he always does when this happens like the sweet fiancé he is. “What happens in these dreams anyways?”

How do you tell your husband-to-be and boyfriend of seven years that you get completely ruined by another man in your sleep? 

Namjoon was far too sweet and innocent to get mad at you for this and you knew that. Yet the guilt never stopped you from feeling terribly about the situation. 

“You won’t be upset with me?” Your voice comes out as a whisper. 

Namjoon stands to turn on the nightlight by the bed before he lays back and wraps his strong arms around your waist. “Baby, look at me.”

With heavy eyes, you look back at your fiancé. 

His palm cradles your soft cheek, pushing a loose hair behind your ear. “I could never be upset with you, my love. It might help to talk your nightmares through. I’ll be right here with you baby.”

With shaking hands, you take a deep breath. “Well, I don’t know where they come from, but there’s this man in my dreams.” 

Namjoon raises a brow, doing his absolute best to understand you even while the clock reads in bold 3:44am. 

“This man, he’s dressed in all black. He— he has these dark eyes.” 

“Dark eyes?” 

“Yeah, he— his eyes are dark, sharp all around, it’s sinister.” 

“Okay. What happens?” He whispers, pulling you even closer into him, your hand falls into his chest for comfort.

“He— he…” You struggle finding the right words. 

Namjoon’s eyes go wide. “Baby, d-does he hurt you?”

No. Of course not. In fact, he does the opposite. The man pleases you until you can’t give him anymore and he leaves you with sore limbs and the burning stretch between your legs as a reminder of what he’s done to you and what he’s capable of. 

You quickly shake your head. “No but he- he touches me and does things to me.”

“Oh honey, why would I be mad at you about that? That’s completely unacceptable. Nobody should be touching you or doing things to you if you don't want it. I see now why this bothers—” 

“Joonie, I feel,” you start and swallow the awful feeling in your throat, “ I feel like… if I've been cheating on you.”

“Baby, I know you would never. They’re just nightmares after all. It’s not like you enjoy it baby.” This is what you mean by Namjoon’s too innocent and kind-hearted to see past the lines between your words. 

“But- I.”

“Wait… do you? Do you enjoy them?” Namjoon almost looks hurt to ask the question, but he’s quick to reassure you. “It’s okay baby, if you do.” 

“I do.” You whisper like it’s some dirty secret.

There’s a pregnant pause before Namjoon pulls you completely flush against his body, rubbing circles behind your back. “It’s okay baby, it's okay. They’re just nightmares. They mean nothing.” 

He kisses your hair for comfort and you let out a sob because they are much more than that to you and you know it. They are all you can think about. Shit, you think if you were given the chance, you would actually let that man have his way with you in real life. And it makes you feel disgusting because you know you enjoy this dynamic way too much.

At first, it was terrifying, you didn’t know the man and he, well he just became a weakness and you wanted him so bad, as much as you hated to admit it. Your imagination was a powerful tool. Why you and why with him? Why couldn’t your dreams be with Namjoon, your high school sweetheart?

“I’m so sorry, Joonie. For all these long nights. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. The nightmares don’t stop, in fact they only feel longer and they get worse.” You cry into his chest. 

“I know honey, it’s not your fault. Just think of me whenever you feel this way, okay?” He pulls back, wiping your tears off with his sleeves. Your fiancé was so fucking sweet and that’s why you fell in love with him in the first place. He was never angry at you or disappointed. Namjoon was always patient with you and a complete sweetheart. God, you’re so fucking stupid. 

“And I’m not mad at you, okay? I never will be. Those nightmares mean nothing to me. I love you Y/N.” Your fiancé whispers into your hair, kissing the side of your face. 

Namjoon has always been way better than you because had you been in his shoes, you couldn’t phantom hearing about him enjoying the presence of another woman. He knew only one part of this story. Namjoon doesn’t know that you spend evenings, the time you have the house alone while he’s off at work, fucking yourself to this strange man’s voice in your head. That you open yourself up just how you do in your nightmares and you swear you hear his voice telling you to keep going. You swear you hear him calling your name asking you about how Namjoon would feel about this. Like if his whole purpose is to make you feel worse about the situation. He’s ruining your life and you’re letting him. You think you’ve given up and it’s just started.

“I- I love you too.” You reply.

Namjoon smiles apologetically, hands gentle against your skin. “Let’s sleep?”

You nod and he pulls you against his hard chest, rubbing your back while he attempts to lull you back to sleep. It eventually comes, but not before you wake to those dark eyes again and the nightmare continues. This time you don't even fight it. He fucks you until you feel yourself collapse and you swear nothing has ever felt better. 

…

The next morning Namjoon gently shakes you awake. “Good morning my love, you slept through your alarm. I figured you could take a day off so I called your boss to let him know you couldn’t come in today. I hope you don't mind.” 

“Joonie?” Your voice is the cutest in the mornings (according to Namjoon), he smiles watching you struggle to wake up. 

“Yes, my baby. I’m just getting ready to leave for work, but I wanted to say goodbye before I leave.”

Well, it’s not like you have a choice so you accept your fate. “Oh, okay. Thank you.”

“No problem, honey. You slept quite well. You didn’t even wake up this time! Did it help? Talking through it?” Again, Namjoon could be so clueless. 

The only reason you slept this well is because you were fucked into oblivion in your dream. As unbelievable as it may sound, you even felt sore down there. But he doesn’t have to know that, so he’ll just go off to work thinking that cuddles and his sweet words drifting you back to sleep actually worked. 

“Yeah… yeah it did. Thank you again. Have a nice day at work.” You say, still warmly tucked in bed. 

“I will, baby. ” He drops a peck into your cheek, smelling the fresh scent of his aftershave. “Call me if anything. See you later, my love.”

And like that you are left alone once again. The only thing that remains is the fluffy feeling of his plump lips buzzing against your cheek, a faint reminder that you are loved and have been for years, while you think about another man, one that only exists in your deepest darkest of dreams. 

—-

Hoseok doesn’t remember how it happened. All he knew is he was standing in a place unknown, sensing there was another being in the room with him. 

It's not his first time around a mortal human. No, in fact he had so much experience with lustful humans with all kinds of desires and wishes, but it has been quite long since he was manifested this strongly into someone’s dreams. 

His favorite part was watching them act as if they didn’t ask for it. Call for him. They would lie and say that they could never fuck a dead being. A ghost at that. As if they didn’t manifest him themselves. 

It's not like it was Hoseok’s fault for dying young and handsome and that now he tends to people’s guiltiest pleasures. It's not like he has anything better to do in the after-life. In reality, he’s doing people a grand fucking favor. The best thing about fucking a dead ghost is there’s absolutely no consequences, at least that’s what he always tells his victims. Unless you get addicted to one, then that’s really a personal problem. They can’t stay on mortal land forever, but for the time being Hoseok has become attached to his time here. Especially with his new little mortal toy. 

When he first heard the calling, he almost missed it. He was fucking another mortal, a man in his mid-twenties to be exact. The man had called for him in his dreams and he attended to his duty with pleasure. 

This man had a thing for clowns and Hoseok wasn’t no fucking clown, but he did his best to please him. His outfit was in all black (of course, it was his favorite color) and fit him quite well though it was different from his usual style, even down to the clown hat and all.

The guy would scream under Hoseok as he would pound into him like some fuck-doll and would have him come undone within minutes. He was so fucking easy to please. They always are.

When Hoseok came to you the first night. That’s how you found him. He still had the same outfit on (he was ripped from the last dream) and his hat had nearly fallen off in the process, but he was pleased when he came across his next victim. You were beautiful. 

“Who— who are you?” You screeched, covering yourself up, cheeks flushed. You had been doing unspeakable things to yourself in the dream. “What are you doing in my room?!”

Hoseok smiles. God, they always are the same. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to and don’t mind me, keep doing what you were doing before I had rudely interrupted.”

The stranger goes to sit by the vanity in your room, making himself extremely comfortable as if it is a regular Tuesday night for him. 

You try to stand and it's like something washes over you. The strange force pushes you back down and you have no choice but to take it. 

The man chuckles, throwing his hat aside. “Don’t hurt yourself trying. Just let your instincts guide you. Tell me what it is you want, this will all go much smoother and much faster.” 

The stranger in black winks and you feel disgusted (though your pussy doesn’t seem to agree with you).

Still you manage to say, “I want you to get out of my fucking room. I’m about to get married, you know and he’ll fucking kill you.” 

“Ohhh.” He purrs, standing as he walks across the room. He stops a couple steps from your bed and leans down to match your height. “But you asked for me to come, baby. So guess what? Now I am your problem.”

He pinches your nose, wrinkling his own in the process and flashes a charming smile. 

You swat his hand off you almost immediately. “I— I didn’t ask for anything. I don’t even know you and I don’t want to know you.” 

“Mm, but soon we’ll know each other very well. Let’s not fight this.” The man’s voice is silky and you could practically see the sinful desire in his eyes while they take in your naked figure. 

You have no idea what he even means by that, but right now you could care less. This is just a nightmare and soon enough, he will disappear and you will get to go back to doing what you were doing before he ever existed. 

“Leave me alone please.” 

The guy puts his hands up clearly coming and going in peace, while retreating back a few steps. “Whatever you say princess. I’ll be back when you’re ready.” 

And just like that the man disappeared into a black distorted shadow. 

He shows up only three nights later. 

This time he catches you on your knees, riding a dildo on your bed. You don’t even hear him until he’s in front of you. Your hips stop mid roll. Whimpering as you feel the tug on your hair.

“Seems you’re ready.” He rasps, having a strong grip on your hair forcing you to look up at him. 

“I— who the fuck are you? Seriously? What do you want with me? I know I’m dreaming and I can wake up any secomd so what the fuck do you want with me.” This time you don’t even entertain him. It’s clear this man has his own vulgar intentions, you wanna skip the small talk. He doesn’t seem like the type to give up until he gets exactly what he wants. 

“The better question is what do you want with me. You manifested me after all, darling.” 

Your eye twitches at the pet name, but you ignore it, for now. “But— I don't know you. How is that fucking possible?”

Even though he knows you won't understand it completely, he still answers truthfully. “I’m dead baby. Anything is possible.” 

Great, so you’re just supposed to believe this man is some ghost haunting you in your dreams. Perfect!

This time you don’t ignore his stupid use of pet names. “S-Stop calling me that.” 

“Oh?” The man pouts, and to be honest that does something to you. If the situation was different maybe you would admit he looks fucking sexy, even if he’s a menace. 

His brows furrow, his jawline clenching as he speaks. “Is there another pet name you like? We’re already getting farther than last time, princess.” 

You don’t even attempt to hold back the scoff, your eyes roll back. “No. I don’t— I didn't ask for you and I don’t want you bothering me anymore. Just please leave me alone. Please.”

The man groans, looking down at you with hooded eyes, the fist in your hair grips harder reminding you that he still had you under his control. “God, but you sound perfect begging. Are you sure of that, kitten?”

The man's voice drops in a sultry tone, nearling purring while he speaks. And somehow, that manages to slip a whine from your throat, nearly drooling at the sight. 

Your eyes immediately widen. “I— I didn't mean that.”

“Oh, so that’s what you like.” The man smiles, petting your head affectionately. You were fucked. “Of course you didn't. You were so close weren't you, kitten?” 

You shake your head, you’re unable to look away, but at the same time you want to throw his hands off you. You felt completely powerless under his gaze and you were liking it a lot more than you would like to admit. 

“Don’t bother lying to me princess, I can smell it. You were so fucking close.” He whines the last part, biting his bottom lip, he seems to breathe in the scent. “So fucking close. I’m sorry. I always join at the worst times, you can continue.” 

He offers like a fucking weirdo, pervert and still you disgustingly want it. 

“I said, don't call me that!” Your hand flies to his and forces it off you. 

“Then talk to me.” He’s rough, but firm with his tone. 

“No. I don’t- can't and I won't. Go bother someone else.” 

“I can’t. You asked for me and you brought me here. Now you have to deal with this.” He doesn't attempt to put his hands back on you, but he does let his gaze wander seeing as you still haven’t moved from your dildo. 

“This is bullshit. It’s just in my head anyways. If I close my eyes it’s like you aren’t even here. Now let me fucking come in peace.” Your eyes closed in the middle of your rant and he seemed to listen. Hoseok backs off, watching you from your wall to be exact, but he lets you take care of yourself. That’s what he’s there for after all. 

After a few seconds of calming yourself down and regaining your arousal, you slowly lift yourself up feeling the dildo pull against your walls and you drop yourself back down. 

Hoseok was right, you weren’t too far away from coming, but he messed up your pace and now you have to work yourself back up. 

It doesn’t take too long before you set a quick pace, fucking yourself onto the silicone length. 

Truly it wasn’t that you and Namjoon’s sex life was bad, in fact he was the best fuck of your life (not that you had much experience given he was your high school sweetheart) but after years of being together, things had changed, a lot. 

You don’t even remember the last time you guys got creative in bed, besides a few vibrators from time-to-time. It was starting to get boring and you didn't want to admit this to him, but you wanted so much more. It's like your body was begging for it. And you didn’t want to hurt his feelings by saying it, so instead you kept it to yourself and the sexual frustration built up overtime making it impossible not to think about constantly. 

You gasp when you finally open your eyes to find the man watching you with heavy lidded eyes from your wall, he’s not even touching himself, but you can see he’s hard in his pants. 

He licks his lips as he watches you jump down on the dildo ferociously. Your eyes make contact and that's when everything seems to explode.

Moans start slipping from your lips and you feel the knot in your stomach start to build quickly. The silicone molds around your walls perfectly, feeling the tip brush against your sweet spot repeatedly, fisting the sheets below you. 

Hoseok’s nose seems to flare and he can practically taste your arousal in the air. He watches as you bounce on that useless dildo, wishing it was his cock instead. Your mouth falls open, drool nearly spilling while you feel the knot coming undone.

It isn’t long before Hoseok finally decides to speak and it does wonders. “Come, you fucking slut.”

Fuck.

On call, you come and he’s forced to watch you moan and writhe against your sheets, feeling the dildo slowly push out of you. 

He pushes himself off the wall and comes towards you and you feel too exhausted to push him away. You are laying in the middle of your bed now, dildo still between your legs but it’s fallen out. 

You feel as he pushes the dildo back inside you overstimulating your used hole as he fucks it into you deeply. You really, really shouldn't let this happen. You are going to be a married woman soon for fuck’s sake, but it all feels so fucking good- risky yet new, so you can’t help but to feed into temptation. 

Sadly, your body denies it, for now at least. “N-No I can't. Not anymore.”

His action comes to a halt. “I know. Maybe next time, kitty.” 

And he disappears once again. 

Disappointment and guilt builds all too quickly. 

Disappointed that he didn’t stay and fuck you until you passed out. And guilt that you just came in the eyes of another man and on his call. 

—-

As expected, you spend your whole day off thinking about the stranger. The way he looks at you, the way he bites his bottom lip while taking you in. The way he grips your hair and clenches his sharp, symmetrical jawline when he has you falling apart in his hands. You could feel his touch, it’s impossible you know, but it all feels too real and it all happens so fast. 

He had a name now. He told you in one of your dreams while he was taking you from behind. 

“Say my name kitten. Who’s fucking you this good? Fuck, what a sight from behind. You’re just perfect all around, aren’t you?” Hoseok’s hands grip onto your ass cheeks, fucking into your pussy brutally. He hasn’t stopped pounding into you and it’s already been ten minutes. Maybe more? Maybe less? You stopped counting. Good dick leaves you feeling stupid. 

“H-Hoseok.” You whimper into your pillow, you think you have officially lost your fucking mind. 

“What?” You swear you can hear the smirk on his lips. 

“Hoseok.” You’re louder this time, but your voice is muffled, face falling into your pillow. 

“Louder slut!” There’s a sting on your ass and he has a fistful of your hair, lifting your face from up the pillow while he continues to ram into you from behind. You realize you are so fucking close and he knows it too, you try to meet his strong thrusts, but it’s no use because it knocks the air from under you. He manages to hold you up with a strong grip. “Fuck, fuck. You’re so tight around me, kitty. You gonna come on my dick now like a good slut? Huh?” 

“Yes!” This time your voice is loud and you scream without holding back. “Hoseok! Hoseok! Oh, nghh… fuck, Hoseok!” 

His name falls from your lips over and over while you come on his cock, just like he asked of you. That satisfies him enough and he squirts his own orgasm all over your plump ass, watching you come down from your own afterglow.

You had come to the fucked conclusion that the only way to possibly fucking fix something like this (as sick as it may sound) is to fuck it away. You had to tell Namjoon, maybe experiment a bit more just so you can finally get this man out of your head. Regain your peace of mind. Namjoon would do anything you’d ask of him, you could assure that. You just had to find a way to tell him so he wouldn’t feel it was his fault or as if he was lacking. Or you could just not tell him. 

Either way you think fucking this away would help for the time being at least.

Sex is a very special and intimate practice and that’s genuinely how it always felt with Namjoon. He always took his time with you and fucked you slow and deep. 

Before, you will admit that it was nice and that’s why he attracted you so much but now, you don’t want it to be nice or slow. You want someone to play rough, break your limits, and touch you in places you haven’t been touched before. You want to be tossed around, fucked until you can’t speak any coherent sentences. Was that just too much to ask for? 

(Hoseok sure didn't think so.)

Right as you had finished cooking dinner, Namjoon made his way through the front door, setting his work bag down by the coat rack.  

“You’re cooking?” Namjoon asks, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in for a quick kiss. “Smells good.” 

“Yeah, I figured you deserved a nice meal to come home to. I didn’t have much else to do.” You swiftly kiss him back.

Namjoon pulls you in closer, arms holding you tightly. He still smells as fresh as he did when he first left. “I told you to rest, my love. You didn’t have to do anything.” 

“I know, I know. I really wanted to though. Let’s just eat, we'll talk after.” He nods and kisses your cheek once more. 

“Let's eat then.”

…

Namjoon decides a movie night is needed on a night like tonight. 

You were more clingy than usual (and of course, he loves it). So he puts on a random movie and allows you to cuddle him up to the fullest of your extent. 

“You’re so cuddly today, my love.” Namjoon whispers into your hair, mid-movie. 

“I just missed you is all.” And you really did, it's been long since you and Namjoon had an intimate night (maybe since these dreams started), you think it's finally time. 

He smiles rubbing his hand down your arm. “I missed you too honey.” 

You lift your head from his chest and lean in slowly, he immediately picks up on the drift and leans down to meet your lips. 

His lips are soft against yours, kissing you with gentle movements. His palm comes to rest on your cheek while you escalate the kiss. 

Your tongue comes up slowly and he lets you in quite easily. You take a hand and rake it down his chest, pulling yourself on his lap carefully. 

You start to slowly whine your hips, making it all too obvious about what you need and want. Namjoon follows along without complaints. 

“Do you wanna?” Namjoon asks, a bit breathless, bringing his forehead against yours. 

“Yes.” You whisper. “Yes, please.”

Namjoon smiles and steals one last kiss before he attempts to stand, thinking it would be best to move this to the bed, but you hold him down with a shove to his abdomen. 

“No. I want it, right here.” You say, finding yourself a little breathless yourself, you needed this. 

His eyes seem to widen for the moment, but he seems to agree and pulls you back in for a kiss, this time he lets his tongue push into your mouth further exploring. He tastes the sweet tang of red wine on your tongue and he groans into the kiss. 

You pull back only for a second as you get rid of your shirt and he starts to unbutton his own. Once the shirts are off, you tug your bra off freeing your breast and bring your lips back together with great force. 

Though he doesn’t complain, Namjoon is in shock. He hasn’t seen you this needy and desperate in years, he thinks? Or at least he doesn’t remember it like that. He lets you rut against his already hard member and kisses you with equal passion.

The next time he pulls away, he tugs on your leggings and he helps you out of them. Typically your panties come down with it, but you decide you’ll just push them aside. You return the offer by pushing his jeans down, including his briefs, his dick slaps against his stomach weighing heavy. 

Your mouth instantly waters, but right now you want him inside the rest will just have to come another time. 

Namjoon looks at you with so much love and admiration and for a minute, the guilt comes crashing down. You want him, you know you do so why is the guilt still there? Is it because even as you have your lover right where you want him all you can think about is how the stranger (Hoseok) from your dreams would have had you flipped onto the couch and had his way with you hours ago. Maybe he would have fucked you against the kitchen counter, defile the damn marble. Maybe he would have taken you right against your front door, like the slut you wanted to be for him. All you know for sure is he wouldn’t have let this much time pass. 

You shake your stupid thoughts away and look back up at your fiancé. This is where you want to be. Where you fucking belong. Without letting your imagination run wild, you rub yourself against Namjoon’s hard length, spreading your arousal all over him. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet baby.” He bites a moan back, feeling your warm juices, slicken his cock. 

You moan against his mouth when you feel the tip latch on to your hole, slowly sinking down on him. You feel his cock stretch your warm walls and he feels he could come already. It's just been so long (can anyone really blame him). 

You bring your hips up a bit before crashing back down feeling the burn on your tight heat. 

“So warm and tight baby.” His hands land on your hips, toying with the band of your panties. “Come here.”

Namjoon brings you flush against his chest slowing your movement, his lips crash into yours. The kiss feels much different from before. He doesn’t hold back, as soon as your tongue clashes with his, he sucks and bites it playfully. You groan into his mouth, accidentally squeezing harder against his length. 

“Fuck baby, just like that.” His dick twitches deeply against your velvety walls, you can tell he’s holding back. “I think I’ll come soon if you continue like this.”

Like hell, you’ll let him come now, you’ve barely had your fill. Without no desire to, you slowly slide off his dick, dropping knees first onto the cold floor below you. 

“Baby–” Namjoon starts, but you push his hands away as he tries to pull you back up.

“Let me do this, you’ll last longer.” He hesitates, but eventually surrenders, laying his hands aside. “Don’t be scared to use your hands, use my mouth, Joonie.”

Fuck. How could his own perfect, sweet wife-to-be sound this seductive? He hasn’t heard you talk this way since college. And it’s been years since that. He thought the years of young, hot sex were over but he’s been wrong all along. His fiancée was the sexiest woman in the world, that he was sure of. 

Namjoon’s hands find your hair and push you towards his glistening length. It’s already drying, shame, you thought, let’s keep it warm and wet. 

Wrapping hands around it, you take his cock into your mouth, sliding your tongue across the slit, hearing a raspy moan come from Namjoon’s throat. “That’s it baby, God your mouth feels incredible.”

The tip of his cock weighs heavy against your tongue. He’s breathing heavy, while he watches you take him in further. You warm his cock with your mouth just as nicely as when you were on top of him. 

Hollowing your cheeks, you take him as far as you could go, hearing his desperate grunts. Namjoon takes a grip of your hair (he’s still very gentle with it and you try not to be disappointed) and pushes you just a bit further, feeling your throat stretch around him. “F-Fuck baby. I really won’t last.” 

You tap his thigh and he immediately lets go when he sees your eyes water. You pull off with a pop to catch your breath. “I know.”

Your voice is raspy and it’s the sexiest thing Namjoon has ever heard. And you know exactly how to make this whole situation better. Sometimes, a little whiny purr in your voice is all that’s needed to get exactly what you need. “I just want you to come down my throat. Please, fuck my throat daddy.”

Now if Namjoon wasn’t sure he could bust before, he could definitely nut in your fist right in that instant. Yes, he has a daddy kink, sue him. 

“Come here.” Namjoon demands, doesn’t hesitate this time to tug you up a little harder and place you in his lap, before he shoves your back against the couch.

“W-What are you doing?” You ask, but the answer is pretty obvious when you see him line his cock up to your hole.

“Fucking you. I’m gonna come inside you. Don’t worry baby, I won’t stop fucking you until you are statisfied.” It’s like music to your ears, his hard member slaps against your clit before he slowly eases back inside you. 

Both moaning at the feeling, he lets you adjust for a few seconds, but you waste no time to wrap your legs around his hips and pull him close. 

“Please daddy, just fuck me.” You whine into his ear. 

This time Namjoon pulls back and right before he slides out, he slams back in, balls smacking into your ass. He fucks you just like that for a while. He’s fast but skilled, finding your sweet spot quite easily. It reminds you both of older times, when things were much easier, when you were both young and easily influenced.

You moan loudly into his neck, toes curling as he fucks his dick deep inside you. “Right there daddy, please don’t stop.”

Sweat starts forming on his forehead and his hair that had once been held back by gel begins sticking to skin. It isn’t a surprise to feel him thrust harder and faster, his tongue poking at his cheek as he concentrates. “Fuck baby, I really missed fucking you just like this. You feel so tight around me, look so fucking sexy, just like this baby.” 

You eat up his praise, biting your bottom lip as you feel the tight grip he has on your hips, drilling into you like he used to. Fuck, maybe you were right. This was exactly what you needed. There’s no Hoseok in your head right now. No unwanted thoughts in your mind. It’s just you and Namjoon. How it always should have been. 

A whimper falls between your lips and you feel Namjoon leaving hickey’s around your tits, covering them beautifully with his own little marks. 

Your legs start to shake around him, and warmth starts spreading through you quickly. “Daddy— I- I think I’m gonna fucking come.” 

Namjoon grunts, mouth around your nipple while he pulls off to speak. “Yeah baby? You wanna come?”

Yes. 

No.

Not really.

Preferably you would like him to control your fucking orgasm, flip you around, start pounding into you until you can’t hold yourself together but this will have to do. 

“Y-Yeah. I wanna come.” 

“Come sweetheart.” It’s not long before you moan sweetly through an orgasm, Namjoon fucks you through it as promised and you feel like you are levitating, he maintains sinful eye contact. His thrust starts to become sloppy and you feel the instant he lets go. 

“Inside daddy, inside.” With one final strong stroke, Namjoon comes deep inside you, his breathy moans feel hot against your ear. 

There’s a few minutes of heavy breathing, settling into the couch below you. Namjoon’s breaths follow close behind yours, arm tucked below your breasts, he lays behind you. 

“You were so wonderful my love, I’m sorry we don’t do that enough.” Namjoon breaks the silence, kissing the side of your head.

For the twentieth time that week, guilt falls heavy onto your chest. You didn’t deserve him, he didn’t deserve this. 

“No, don’t apologize Joonie. It’s my fault, really. I’ve just been… out of it. But I feel much better. All thanks to you. Thank you, thank you for everything you do for me and our home.” You start getting emotional, but you don't let your tone waver. You didn’t want him to know. 

“You know I’d do it all for you, my love” He whispers into your hair, kissing along the soft skin behind your neck. “I can’t wait to marry you baby.” 

There it is again, guilt. 

“I know, I know. Me either.”

“I love you.” He doesn't hesitate to remind you sweetly. 

It hurts to say it with all that is going through your mind, but you force a reply anyway. “I love you too.” 

…

Sleep comes over you quickly that night. 

Finally, you had fucked your sweet and loving fiancé and for once, your dreams don’t start off with you fucking yourself into an orgasm. 

In fact, you don’t dream, at least you don't recall. 

Hoseok immediately knows something is different when he arrives. He doesn’t smell arousal in the air, no this time he can tell you’ve been fucked. He can smell the come leftover deep inside your walls. He’s impressed to say the least. 

He watches your chest rise and fall, a small pout framing on your lips. You sleep beautifully, he thinks you will look even better after he’s done with you for today.

With careful steps, he makes his way to the end of your bed, you jerk your arm so suddenly in your sleep and he holds back a laugh. He’s quiet when he sits besides your sleeping head, gentle fingers run through your hair. 

“Mm.” You hum sweetly in your sleep, molding against his touch, thinking it was your husband-to-be playing with your hair like he normally does. 

Before you hear him say, “someone had a good night. Isn’t that right kitten?”

Your eyes widen, nearly jumping out of bed, but Hoseok’s hands stop you from moving. “It’s just me baby.”

“H-How?” Your voice is raspy with sleep. “You were supposed to be gone.”

Hoseok smiles wide, hand still caressing the back of your head. “Did you really think that would happen, kitten?”

“Yes.” 

“You let him fuck you.” He says like he knows for sure it's a fact. He doesn’t look too happy about it and your deafening silence answers his unspoken question. He pats your cheek. “Naughty kitty.” 

You gulp, his pretty hand wrapping around your throat as he asks the next question. “Did you like it?”

“Yes.” It’s not a lie and he knows it too. 

“Yeah? He fuck you better than me?” You gulp again.

“Yes.” No.

“Why do you lie to me, kitten?” His eyes flash red (they don’t), but the look he gives you is enough to warn you. Things are about to get serious so fast. “I know everything.”

You know that saying people say about fucking around and finding out. You were about to fuck around and find out real fucking fast that Hoseok doesn’t play with his toy. 

“Then what the fuck are you going to do about it, huh?” The only warning you get is Hoseok’s smile and then he’s fisting your hair tightly. Jawline clenched, watching as his eyes hood and darken. 

“Fuck yourself open, you slut.” He drops the grip on your hair and stands, serious look on his face, he’s not fucking around at all tonight. His hands are quick, tugging his belt off. “Make it quick.”

When he sees you still haven’t moved, a warning comes to you by a strong fistful of hair, shoving you so closely against his face. His breath hits yours, but your lips don’t touch, even though they are so fucking close. You’re tempted to steal a kiss from those soft looking lips, but you’ve acted up enough. “I said, fuck yourself open.”

He drops his grip, letting your head fall into the mattress. Hoseok’s voice is strong and demanding so you stop fucking around and pull the sheets off your body. His eyes fall on your breasts, they are covered in hickey’s freshly made by Namjoon and he tries not to let that affect him. But damn him, he wishes it was him instead. He knows you would never sleep unsatisfied. He would always make sure you slept fucked and sated. Even if that meant, falling asleep on his cock. 

There’s a slight burn when your finger finds its way to your pussy. Namjoon did a number on you, but it makes it easier to fuck yourself open. His come still settling deep inside you.

Hoseok has his shirt off now and he tugs his briefs and pants down all at once, his cock springs out, looking delicious as ever. You hear a dark chuckle behind you. “Uh-uh, wrong hole kitty, I’m fucking that ass tonight.” 

You whimper when his hand comes to stop your movements. 

“I’m not fucking that dirty hole. Turn around. I wanna see you from behind.” He’s not putting it up for question. You push yourself up on your knees and fall back against the bed, lifting your ass towards his direction. 

He curses behind you and smacks your ass. Leaving a red hand mark behind, it almost is as pretty as your face. “Fuck kitten, you really are pretty all around. Fuck that hole open for me.” 

You feel spit hit your hole and your index finger rubs his saliva around your rim. Your chest is heavy, this time for different reasons, you are completely breathless. 

You can’t see Hoseok, but you hear as he opens the drawer beside your bed, it’s where you kept all your toys and lube. You are a finger-deep inside your ass when you hear the lube cap open, Hoseok is kind enough to warm the lube a bit between his fingers before he rubs against your rim and finger. He lets a bit of the lube dribble down your ass cheeks. Hoseok likes it a bit messy and wet. He clicks it close and tosses it besides you. 

“My perfect submissive slut.” He whispers, hands settling on your ass as you finger yourself open with two fingers now, the burn hurts but it feels so damn good. Namjoon has never fucked your ass, but it has always been one of your sexual desires. Nothing could ever compare to an orgasm through anal and Hoseok has taught you a lot about that. 

Another glob of spit hits your rim and you feel him squeeze a finger in. The burn of three fingers tear through you, moaning into the sheets.  “Mm, fuck.” 

He grins watching you hold back moans, biting your lips hard. 

“Maybe I should punish you tonight.” He suggests, still fucking his finger in your ass alongside your own. “If you come like this I’ll let you suck my dick if I’m still feeling nice.”

You complain, turning around to face him, back still arched. “No… please, please Hoseok. F-Fuck me. Fuck my ass.” 

“No.” He’s cold like usual and you know he won’t budge so it's no use. 

“But I-I’ve been waiting patiently. I thought all day about you.” It almost sounds like a purr and Hoseok loves it, spanking the fat in your hips this time with an unoccupied hand. His finger is still deep inside your ass and doesn’t let down. 

“Yeah? Tell me about that.” He starts to jerk himself off in the process, the leftover lube in his fingers makes the slide easier, his tongue wets his lips while he maintains eye contact. 

Your cheeks are burning but you continue, “I thought about your huge cock splitting me open. Forcing me to take you e-even when I can’t anymore. I thought about you spitting into my messy hole like you always do. I thought about you fucking me open against the door. Even the kitchen counter. All day, I’ve missed you all day.”

This seems to satisfy him enough so he plays nice. “Turn over. On your back. Show me those tits.”

He pulls his finger out slowly and you miss it immediately but you listen, your own fingers slide out as you turn around for him. His knees hit the bed pulling your thighs apart as he falls between them, his arm falling beside your head. He’s still fisting his hard length, watching your tits rise and fall as you breathe. 

His tongue comes out and licks around your breasts purposely avoiding your nipple. “You let him mark you.” 

“He’s my husband-to-be.” You answer, holding back a moan when he sucks on your skin, gentle enough not to make any marks. “Of course, I did.” 

“Mm.” He hums into your skin, it vibrates and your pussy responds to this, leaking arousal into the sheets. “What else did you let him do, kitten?” 

“He fucked me.” You whisper, practically vibrating below him. 

“Oh I know that. I smell it.” He looks like he wants to laugh, but instead continues sucking around your other breast, giving both tits the attention they deserve. 

“Squeeze them together.” He orders and you listen quickly. His tongue slides and sucks between them, still avoiding your nipples and it drives you insane. You want to feel him. 

“Please.” Your voice is weak.

“Please what?” He asks, looking up dumbfounded, but he knows exactly what you want. He’s making you work for it. “Tell me kitten. What do you want?” 

“Y-Your mouth.” You struggle. 

“Where?” He breathes out, right on top of your nipple, tongue nearly sliding against it. 

“R-Right there.” Your eyes never move. 

You watch as he sticks his long, pink tongue out and very slowly licks your already hardened nipple. 

“Here?” He asks between his own breaths and you moan softly, sounding sweet against his ears.

“Yes.” You whisper-moan. 

He drops his cock, letting it hit your cunt while he starts to suck on your nipples like they deserve. There’s nothing sweet and gentle about this. It’s like he wants to replace Namjoon’s love bites and leave you with his own. 

He switches off onto the previous breast and his hand comes to play with your other breast while he attends to the new one. He licks and sucks harshly, bruising your tender skin. You writhe against him, pussy brushing along his cock, but his hand comes to halt your actions quickly with a strong grip on your hip. 

“Be good, slut.” Is all he says before he continues marking your breasts and you can’t do a single thing, but moan and whine underneath him, feeling empty. The memory of Namjoon is long forgotten. 

Once Hoseok is satisfied with his work. He grins and pulls away. He grabs the bottle of lube beside you and lathers his cock in it. “Should I fuck you now?”

You are quick to nod and you feel bubbly. 

Finally. 

“Yeah? You think you deserve it?” He tempts and teases, his lubed fingers touch your chin and you open with ease, taking all three fingers he offers you inside your mouth. You suck hard and watch him bite his lip.  

You moan around his fingers, his other hand gripping his slicken cock and you feel it catch around your rim. 

“Beg for it, slut.” He slides his fingers out, saliva drips down your chin, you probably look a mess but you don't even care anymore. The sinful desire and lust is ten times worse than any other feeling. 

“Please, Hoseok. Please.” You beg. “I’d do anything. Anything.” 

He sees red for two seconds and then he says. “Then keep your legs open for me. Try to stay awake. Don’t disappoint me this time, kitten.” 

There’s no warning for when he plunges his hard length inside your slicked rim. You know he won’t be going anywhere near your pussy, keeping his promise. You didn’t deserve it. You let someone else use your hole and now he’s punishing you. 

“Oh. My. God.” You moan, it fucking burns, but soon his thrusts turn into pleasure and his cock brushes your sweet spot. It’s like he’s known you all your life, knowing the exact way to tear you apart, piece by piece. 

“Ghost actually, not God, but I’ve met him. He’s not the sweet and forgiving man everyone mentions he is.” Hoseok says this all while buried deep between your ass cheeks and you would actually laugh about this if the situation was different, but instead you moan and clench around him feeling his balls slap faster against your ass. “That’s it kitten, lose your fucking mind.”

And that is exactly what you do.

Hoseok continues ramming his hips into yours for a few minutes, you aren’t speaking clearly anymore so he doesn’t understand a word you tell him, all he knows is that you must be feeling fucking ecstasy by the way you roll your eyes and yell moans. 

His hands grip your hips and he comes to a stop. “Face down. Ass up. I wanna see that ass while I pound it from behind.”

You don’t reply to him, but you seem to understand. With weak movements, you move and nearly fall face first into the bed, weak limbs. You don’t even have the strength to hold yourself together anymore. Hoseok is kind enough to help though, he places a pillow below your hips, just high enough so he can slide right back inside your tight ass. 

He hears your muffled moans against your bedsheets, watching you weakly grip them. 

“Such a nice ass. It’s a shame really.” Your ass bounces while he mounts you from behind, it’s fast but precise, hitting your walls just right at every harsh thrust. 

“W-What is?” He barely hears you reply. 

“That this ass isn’t played with enough and soon I’ll just be a fidget of your imagination. You’ll forget I ever existed and you’ll never, ever receive the sexual satifisation you deserve. But maybe, one day, when it’s your turn to go, you’ll meet me in the after-life and I’ll show you just how much I’ve missed this sweet ass.” The ghost’s voice almost sounds sad and you freeze. You don’t want this to end. No.

“T-Then don’t stop fucking me. Keep me here forever.” You whisper frantically, breath hot and heavy. 

“Oh trust me baby, I would if I could. For now, I won’t stop. Stay awake, kitten.” You don’t even notice you are falling unconscious, the stretch and burn of his cock is exhausting and your ass takes him greedily, but his words wake you. 

He grips the side of your hips, pressing his thumbs into your back as he sets a faster pace. Slamming and ramming his dick deep within you. The moans and gasps that slip from your mouth sound so pretty, God he really wishes it would never fucking end, but he feels you slipping between his hands already. 

What the fuck can he do? 

Hoseok is close himself, how could he not be? He’s been practically edging himself for hours and now that he has such a juicy ass at hand, with the most perfect woman he has ever seen, he could practically come inside your velvet walls right now. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You curse and moan below him, you tremple and shake, the knot inside your stomach is barely holding up. “‘M so close.”

He nods, forgets you can’t see him. He harshly tugs you around, still quite limp and weak between his arms. “Wanna see that face when you come on my cock.”

He plunges back inside, lips close to yours, but he doesn’t kiss you. And then you realize, he hasn’t kissed you. This entire time. He’s fucked you religiuosly for weeks on end and you don’t even know what those heart-shaped lips taste like against yours. Would they be as sweet as they look? Would he kiss you gently or would he be harsh and rough like the way he fucks? You wonder about it all at once and it makes you sad for a moment. You want a kiss. Why wouldn’t he kiss you? 

“Kiss me.” You breathe out, he’s grunting above your mouth still fucking you nice and deep. You are beyond positive you won’t be able to move your ass tomorrow but it’s worth it, it’s always worth it. 

He looks up and then looks back down, concentrating on his thrust, you moan but hold your ground. 

“Please. Kiss me.” You whisper, gasping when you feel the knot start to come undone. He knows you’re about to let go and this only drives him to bottom out faster and quicker. Skin smacking quickly against skin. Your asshole has been shaped and molded just for him. You’re loving every second of it, but he still hasn’t kissed you. 

Why?

Your arms weakly wrap around his shoulders, he breathes heavy and hot against your ear now. It’s messy, sweaty and his touch is usually rough, but it feels awfully gentle now. He’s still rough inside your soft walls, but something’s changed. 

“Hoseok.” You breathe, you’re so sad. 

He hums against your neck, avoiding your eyes. 

“Kiss me.” You plead again, he kissed your neck so softly, balls smacking harder and faster against your ass. “No, my lips.”

“Goodnight, kitten.” He whispers sounding sad into your ear before he lifts his face from your neck and those heart-shaped lips touch your softly, it’s almost sweet. You come undone as soon as you feel the touch of his magical lips and you swear you feel him come deep inside you.

It all disappears though. 

“Honey?” This time it's Namjoon, hand already around your waist. “You okay? Was it another nightmare?”

A tear falls down your face and Namjoon awes, bringing you into his warm embrace. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry.” 

Why are you crying? 

And where is Hoseok?

“I am too.” You simply say, crying harshly into his shoulder.

Hoseok watches the scene unfold from afar. He wishes you could feel the ache you’ve left him behind too and there isn’t a damn thing he could do but wait. 

“See you in the after-life kitten. There I’ll spoil you with all the kisses you deserve.”

You don’t hear him, but he knows he means well. Hoseok walks away permanently this time, he’s lost the feeling of his heart long ago, but he feels heavy-hearted and continues on his way to his next victim.  

Until next time.

[annaviste]

Vampire Hunter D Headcanons

D x Human Reader

Please be kind, these are my first headcanons that I’m posting, and I want to clarify again that English is not my native language, but French is ! So I’m using a translator sometimes 😭 too make sure I’m not making too much mistakes :)

Also, this is just my personal interpretation, so I’m sorry if you don’t agree with my vision, I just hope I’m not talking complete nonsense here !

Btw I also want to clarify that I’m mainly talking about Bloodlust D here! Because in another post, I shared my thoughts that this D is way different from his other versions (novels, manga, 1985, etc…)

And, I apologize in advance if I have trouble expressing myself clearly…

Soooo let’s begin 🫦

First of all, I would say that Bloodlust D doesn’t have any real physical preference (unlike what’s said in his fandom about curves, etc). Honestly, I think D is someone who focuses more on the soul of the person (yes, I’m probably dreaming). BUT, personally, I see him having a slight preference for a chubby person, but I think that’s where it would stop.

I think that, given his age, D has seen and known all kinds of people, but he would have a soft spot for someone who doesn’t fear him like a monster, who doesn’t see him as one—because we can understand, spending your life being called a monster without recognition for what you do must be hard. But overall, I think D doesn’t have real “preferences,” except for a strong deep soul connection with the chosen one of his heart. I think it’s something very spiritual.

He’s also very open minded.

Loyalty, oh God. Honestly, I think D is a man of deep and unbreakable loyalty. No matter who or what tries anything with him, they will gain nothing. You can notice that D is indeed insensitive to flirting, but even more so if he’s in a relationship with someone. No matter when or how, on a mission or whatever, he lets no one approach him. His eyes rest nowhere but on you. He will push away without hesitation anyone who is not you, his lover. you are the only person who occupies his mind. But beware, he expects the same from his lover.

Speaking of which, jealousy. There’s a lot to say about that… Honestly, I think D would be the jealous type—not to make scenes, but maybe his heart twists inside seeing you laugh with someone else—after all, he who has become even more distant than he already was for YOU, why wouldn’t you do the same? I think that even if he wouldn’t show it clearly, a simple gesture too “affectionate” from you towards someone else would hurt him, make him think about it over and over, endlessly—what did it mean? Why him/her? Why don’t you laugh like that with him?Basically, overthinker final boss.

So, he’s a possessive lover, not necessarily to the point of stopping you from living, but this poor man is simply afraid of losing you. He has lost so many people over his life that the idea of losing the only being he decided to surrender to terrifies him in silence.

Also, I think D would be the overprotective type, wanting to hide you from all threats, which would even include leaving you in a warm house in a village while he goes on a mission, sometimes for weeks—but don’t worry, he always makes sure to come back quickly to see that smile he loves so much.

D is definitely cold, distant, and unapproachable to the whole world, but… for you, he’s a true silent clingy shadow. Imagine, in a warm inn he paid for the two of you, while you go about your business quietly in the room, he follows you everywhere. Literally. No matter where you go, bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, he’s there, behind you. Sometimes you even jump, about to call him, but you hear him answer immediately, right behind you, in your ear.

-"D-"

-"Yes ?" AND LIKE. He’s just standing her behind you, watching you. Creepy.

Also, this man spoils you rotten. Literally. You want something? Very well, even if he has to go to the other side of the world to bring it to you, he will. Of course, I’m not talking about a relationship based only on material things, not a all, but I truly believe this man is simply weak for your slightest whims. He always comes back to you with his hands full.

Speaking of that, I think D could say ‘I love you’, but never out of routine, no, not because he doesn’t feel it, but because to him, those words are powerful and should be spoken with deep intimacy. But mostly, he shows his love through actions

I also think D would help you a lot with everything, your tasks, your responsibilities… or whatever that is. Yeah, I really see him helping you at home, or again, WHATEVER, he help you. Always. This man never let you do anything by yourself…

He’s the type to listen to you for hours, really paying attention. He’s very attentive to you, analyzing you, remembering every little detail. And maybe, if you gently show him that he can open up too, little by little… it’ll happen. Just give him time…

I also think D is literally a gentleman to his core… it’s in him. He wants to take care of you, open the door, carry your bags, pay for everything without blinking… Not because he thinks you can’t do it, but because for him, love means devotion, not counting. He’s from another time, another world — he doesn’t keep score. If you try to split things with him, he’ll just quietly ignore it and do it anyway. I think he can be here to protect, to provide, to make you feel safe and treasured !

That’s why I also think he’d be kinda… old-school cheesy for you in the way he’s such a gentleman, like, gallant, polite, “let me open the door for you, my lady” type of energy. Very old-fashioned, very serious about it too. He doesn’t even realize it’s a little outdated or overly formal, (even tho the vhd "timeline" and universe are different from ours but anyway) it’s just how he is. And honestly ? It’s lowkey adorable

Left Hand… oh boy. The number of times D clenches his fist so tightly just to shut the parasite up when it starts talking too much about you, your eyes, your lips, your curves-

Also, I think, and I’m a bit hesitant about this, that if Bloodlust D loved his human lover more than anything, he would probably lose his mind over it. Maybe that would even lead him to make you an immortal creature too? Who knows? maybe he wouldn't be so different from Meier, maybe…

Okayy so, it’s my FIRST Headcanons post so I’m very nervous, but thanks you for reading me !❤️

[coldinternetllama]

My thoughts on Maomao and her parents

Spoilers for Maomao's backstory and maybe for some future instances in the LNs. Also this is not a proper analysis, do not expect much structure, lol

One of the saddest things to me in this story is that Maomao probably craved Fengxian's love until the very end, regardless of what she is saying. After all, who wouldn't want to feel their own mother's love, right? Maomao keeps saying that she doesn't know how to love, however I believe this is simply a coping mechanism for her. We know that she loves Luomen, her sisters, the Granny, even Xiaolan and Loulan (yes, I do think she loved them). Hell, she also has "certain affections" for our beloved red flag, as she herself states in her mind. Yet she doesn't classify any of that as love proper. Instead, she comes back to the cut tip of her pinky and repeats her favorite phrase about how she left that feeling somewhere in the past. There where she also left her mother, who is now just the woman who gave birth to her. Still, she administered Fengxian's medicine time and time again. Still she set up the perfect opportunity for Lakan to find her. Still she danced for her under the night sky with a heavily injured leg. Still she bowed to her remains and played her last game of go for her. I don't think she had it in herself to love the woman who pushed her away, but part of Maomao wanted to love her, I believe. And to be loved back. Granted, Luomen and the women at Verdigris house did their best to raise Maomao, but it wasn't enough to replace what could have been.

If anything, our dear apothecary is probably more frustrated than anything. She doesn't hate her parents, no. I would go as far as to say that she actually feels bad for them ( I mean, who wouldn't). Of course, she would never admit that, which leads to her other coping mechanism, namely her extremely abrasive language when referring to Fengxian and Lakan (come on now, breeding mare and stallion? Girl, chill). She would rather feign indifference, lest she has to confront her feelings, which is her least favorite thing to do, as we know. After all, it's these two people's feelings that got them all to that state. If even such intelligent people could make such a blunder because of feelings, why would she want to feel love or be loved? This is also reflected in the scene where she is telling Jinshi that she wants to be executed with poison. Jinshi answers that he would never execute her. Maomao's answer? It doesn't matter what he wants to do, it only matters if he CAN do it. To me, this is a direct reference to her parents' story. Lakan wanted to be with Fengxian, but couldn't. Fengxian wanted to reach out to him, but couldn't. It all ended in ruin because of that damn feeling called love. Of course, this is also why Maomao just refuses to even consider that she can love (btw, I don't mean strictly one type of love, this is a very vast and complicated feeling with many facets, and I mean all of them here). So she simply claims that she doesn't, yet her actions tell a different story.

Now, I have never been in a similar situation, so I do not claim to know what a person like Maomao would truly think and feel of this. But I think that deep down she wonders what it would have been like to have been loved without being hurt. For her cries to have been met with warmth and not with silence. For her mother to have hugged her instead of having chased her away. And maybe Fengxian wanted the same, but knew that it was not possible. Maybe she was ashamed and disappointed in herself. What good would it be for that child to love her? The child, whose destiny might turn out not too different from her own. Indeed, in the end, no matter what anyone wanted, Fengxian could only become the woman who gave birth to Maomao. And Maomao could only learn to accept that.

[thebaldursmouthgazette]

I do not have the brain juice to make a full post about it but every time I see that post comparing the inquisitor during in hushed whispers to solas it pisses me off how ridiculous a take that is

It relies entirely on a very specific characterisation on the inquisitor that is not canon, yet it acts like it should apply to all inquisitors, even though they don’t necessarily have that view (you can actually express the exact opposite view, and certain animations imply that that is what the writers had in mind, not callousness to parallel solas)

AND it makes a false equivalence between two completely different situations because like. Going back in time by one year so that the exact same people who have been suffering never suffered in that way, and those same exact people are alive and well instead of dead, is VERY different to unleashing chaos and demons that will kill just about everyone currently alive (in scenes VERY similar to the aforementioned suffering in the in hushed whispers timeline btw. That’s why solas is lamenting over not being able to prevent his mistakes) in a linear timeline in order to maybe benefit a civilisation long, long dead.

[draculasintern]

Odds and Additions..

Im gonna be SO fr rn.. Im getting merked by finals and classes. It was a miracle I could even think of writing this. This one my might be shorter than the others because Im burning out..Btw Im not doing anything special in this like blocking off where scenes end cause woop de doo Im TIRED.

Pt. 6

The morning after felt like waking up mid-sentence.

No clean slate. No reset. Just the weight of unsaid things settling heavier on your shoulders than your coat.

You didn’t speak to Viktor. He didn’t speak to you. But the silence had changed again—no longer just cold, no longer just sharp. It was suspicious. Like you’d both left something open on the operating table the night before and now neither of you wanted to look too closely at it in the light.

He arrived earlier than usual. You arrived later.

Whether that was intentional or not, neither of you said. Though you really didn’t feel like coming in today.

The machines had barely warmed up before the lab door opened again.

Councilor Mel. Golden, measured, and smiling like someone who never lost sleep over blueprints. But she wasn’t alone.

The Dean was with her this time, sleeves rolled to his forearms, eyes scanning the room not for people—but for purpose. His presence was different now. More restless. As if the clock ticking over your heads was no longer metaphorical.

“I’ve seen the numbers,” he said without preamble, voice even but heavy with expectation. “And I’ve seen the competition. What I haven’t seen yet... is vision. Or collaboration.”

His gaze flicked between you and Viktor, sharp enough to make the floor feel uneven.

“I asked for something that would help the people. Not a game of academic one-upmanship. Do you two think Piltover runs on pride?” Which it kind of did..

He didn’t wait for an answer.

Mel gave a slight shake of her head, as if to say be careful now—but didn’t interrupt.

“You’ll be presenting something viable in two weeks. One design. One solution. I don’t care whose name is on it.”

His eyes lingered on both of you, jaw tight.

“Either figure out how to work together, or don’t bother submitting anything at all.”

Then he turned and left.

And just like that, the countdown had begun again.

But this time, it wasn’t about who broke first.

It was about whether either of you could stand to build something... together.

You didn’t sit down right away.

The Dean’s words were still suspended in the air like smoke—smothering, clinging to everything. You stood there a moment too long, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the blueprint Viktor had abandoned halfway through last night. The same one you’d memorized without meaning to. The same one you’d rewritten in your head a dozen different ways while telling yourself it didn’t matter. That he didn’t matter.

Across the room, Viktor didn’t look up. His posture hadn’t changed, but something in the way he held his pen said he wasn’t drawing—he was waiting. Listening. Just like always.

You sat.

Not because it was an olive branch. But because the Dean had thrown down a gauntlet, and neither of you would let it go untouched.

The quiet stretched again, taut as wire. It wasn’t collaboration. Not yet. It was detente. An agreement not to set the place on fire while the council still had matches in hand.

Eventually, Viktor spoke. A single word, quiet, without any real shape to it.

“Fine.”

You didn’t look at him.

“Fine,” you echoed, the word tasting more like defeat than agreement.

Neither of you said what you really meant: Let’s do this, but don’t think for a second I’ve forgiven you for your selfish ways.

Let’s build this thing, but not with trust.

Not with hope.

Just teeth. Just nails. Just the slow, grinding pressure of two minds refusing to back down.

You reached for a clean sheet of paper, not even bothering to hide the tremor in your fingers. If he noticed, he didn’t comment.

He just pulled his own notes closer.

And together—almost— you began. The hours passed like sand through cracked glass. Slow. Uneven. Inevitable.

You spoke only when necessary. Pointed questions. Sharpened answers. No softness. No detours. The kind of conversation built from stone and splinters—functional, but jagged. Viktor didn’t look at you unless he had to, and you returned the favor like it was law.

Still, something shifted.

It wasn’t trust. Barely even respect.

It was acknowledgment. A quiet, begrudging recognition that two sharp edges could cut cleaner if aligned.

You handed him a draft, wordlessly. He didn’t comment on the linework, though you knew he saw the improvement. Saw the part you’d borrowed from his design—and the part you’d fixed. He only nodded, barely, and adjusted a single angle before passing it back.

That was the rhythm of it: offer, accept, revise. Like passing a blade between you, testing who would flinch first. Neither of you did.

By nightfall, the shared blueprint was more real than it had ever been. No longer his. No longer yours.

Just something alive between you.

You didn’t know whether to be proud or afraid.

Then Viktor spoke again—quiet, like the dark had dulled the edge of his voice.

“This might actually work.”

You didn’t look up.

“I know.”

And that was it.

No praise. No warmth.

But the silence that followed didn’t feel quite so weaponized.

It was still cold.

But not...cruel.

OKay all done. Ik this was rushed and not the best work but its still something. Eat up or starve. /j

[honey-on-mars]

Guard Dog

TW: violence, fight scenes, mentions of blood, threats, language (curses; bitch, shit, etc.), injury 

note: as always advice/constructive criticism is appreciated and if I am missing a warning please let me know and I will fix it :) [also I was excited to get the first chapter out but, I will be reading this again later today to fix any slight errors] BTW, I’m thinking about aging up Isaac (so that reader, derek, and him are the same age 26 b/c i was thinking about making him a love interest; feel free to give your thoughts)

Chapter 1

These stupid hunters. Jesus. Why did they have to run all the way out here? I hear the hunters come to a stop. Aaagh and of course, a scream follows. I pick up my pace, careful not to attract any attention. That’s when I see it. A blonde girl falls to the ground, panic radiating off her scent. Then, I see the arrow. Right to the leg. Before I get a chance to do anything, there’s another kid. Tall with a kind of muscular build. He’s blocking the other girl from getting hit by more arrows. And, I’m sure I’ve never seen a more reckless pair of kids. But, something about the way the boy’s protecting the girl, like he’s done it a million times and wouldn’t hesitate to do it a million more. It reminds me of someone. Then, I realize. It reminds me of Nikolai, my Nikie. For a second, my indifference from before is replaced with rage. Then, that familiar whistling blows through the air. It’s the brunette hunter. She just fired another arrow. I waste no time. Before the arrow can even so much as graze the boy, my gun fires at her. It doesn’t hit her. But, that’s fine, she’s not my target. My target is that string she pulls so easily. I’m done. I’ve had enough of whatever sick game she’s playing. She wants to play with lives. That’s fine. I’ll show her what it’s like to be toyed with. As soon as her string breaks, I watch as she reaches for another weapon–a miniature crossbow. But, just as soon as she has it out. I fire again. Breaking this toy of hers too. “Aren’t you hunters supposed to have a code you follow?” I sneer, finally stepping out from the shadows. I’m dressed in black tactical armor from head to toe and strapped with a web of different weapons. The moonlight flickers over the symbol of The Guard over my chest–in gold thread is a jackal. My face is covered by my hood, but her gaze is heavy. I keep moving until I’m stood in front of the two kids. “Allison, step back” says a voice from behind the brunette. It’s deep, authoritative. And so clearly, a man. “Allison, huh? What a pretty name.” I say my lips turning up into a mocking smile, “Shame your personality’s so nasty” the look on her face darkens, and her jaw clenches. It’s clear I’ve pissed her off. “ALLISON! NOW!” says the voice again, louder this time, more demanding and it’s about to be her undoing. “Awww! But, I’m having such a good time pissing her off.” I goad her more, easily enough she pulls out a knife. The moonlight bounces off of it and I scoff, pulling one out from my belt. “I have one too, princess.” We tiptoe for a little. And I wait. For an opening. She takes the first step, swiping her knife at me. She’s fast–faster than I expected–but, still I’m faster. She tries to take another swipe, I dodge again. This time, it’s my turn. I step forwards and slash my knife against her waist. Blood drips. “Whoops! That’ll be a pain to clean up” She hisses, her arm instinctively moving to check the injured area. Not fast enough. Then, right as she’s distracted. I hear it. Whoever was trying to warn her from before, fires a shot at me. A bullet. Shit. I was too careless. I feel pain radiating out from my hip. Before, I can make another move, adjust my stance. Two arms grip me, pulling me away from the hunters. It’s the two kids. Although, I’m not sure if I should be grateful or annoyed. They’re fast, everything’s turning into a blur. But, I can still see the frustration on Allison’s face as she grips her wound.

“Here. Sit. We’ll get Derek. He can help.” They set me gently on a couch. It’s leather. And it’ll be a bitch to get blood off of. But, I settle. It’s not like I can go anywhere else until they take the bullet out of my hip. “You’re going to be okay” says the blonde, thought I think it’s more for herself than me. “Yeah, just need this bullet out. Not my first time but, it hurts like a motherfucker.” I wince, either this wound is worse than I thought or this couch is really shitty. “Just come back. And bring Deaton. It’s an emergency.” I hear the boy from earlier. He’s on the phone. “Fine. But, Scott and Stiles are with me too. So, they’re gonna have to come” says the voice on the other line. I go still. They had better not be talking about my Scott and Stiles. They cannot be mixed up in this. I try to move to say something but, it hurts too much. “Yeah, whatever. Just hurry.”

The doors glide open and I wince trying to see who it is. “Sit. It’s okay, they’re here to help.” Immediately, I see Scott and Stiles. MY scott and stiles. Then, I see two other people, both men. One looks to be my age with black hair and blue eyes. The other’s older, wearing a doctor’s coat and holding a briefcase. The older one moves towards me, “My name is Deaton. I’m going to check your wound” I look at him hesitantly, “You can trust him [name]. He’s my boss.” says Scott, his brows furrowed and eyes trailing over my wound. I nod. It takes a while but this Deaton guy finishes inspecting my wound. “We need to get that bullet out” whispers Deaton, he’s talking to Scott and the guy with black hair. They both look me over simultaneously, I can feel the pity in their gazes. “I agree. So can someone please, finally take this bullet out? It’s pretty painful, if you haven’t noticed.” I sigh, I’m already over the looks of pity and I’m dreading the conversation that I KNOW, I’ll be having with Scott and Stiles. “Yeah, I’ll get started” says the doctor guy, opening his case and setting up his tools. “This won’t take long. You’re strong, okay? You can handle this.” He says his eyes looking at me with a calm determination. He starts. And he was right, it didn’t take long. But, apparently I’m not as strong as he thought I was because the only thing that hurt more when he was taking that bullet out, was probably Scott’s hand, which I was holding onto as said bullet was being taken out.

Now’s time for the really good part. “What happened, [name]? You’re back? How come you didn’t tell me?” says Scott, his eyes are drooping. He’s clearly hurt, I didn’t tell him I’m home. “Wait a minute. Scott, you know her?” says the boy from earlier, who I still don’t know, his eyes are widened and whipping his head towards Scott. “Yeah, she’s my older sister” he replies, with no tact whatsoever. “Yeah. Hi, my name is [name] McCall. Like he said, I’m the unfortunate soul who got stuck as his sister.” I chuckle, but Scott just clenches his fists at his side, letting out a sharp huff as he glares at me. “Can someone just explain what’s going on?” cuts in the guy with black hair. “Uh–yeah. I can I guess. But, forewarning it’s a little complicated” I say looking up at him and he glares at me. Jeez, if I didn’t think he looked like a grumpy cat, he might actually scare me. “Okay, short version it is.” I sigh, ”It started a couple months ago, I noticed more and more hunters were breaking their precious little code. Most of them, were hanging around here. So, I decided to fly in to see what’s been going on. I only got here this morning,” I say, glancing at Scott, I don’t want him thinking I intentionally hid my return, “decided to look around this evening. That’s when I came across some hunters, cornering blondie and muscles over there.” the blonde cuts me off, eyes rolling “It’s Erica. And Boyd.” “Cool, anyways,” I continue, “I hadn’t planned on getting involved. At least, not until Boyd, here, decided he’d be more helpful after getting turned into swiss cheese instead of running for help–” “Wait, what do you mean, Swiss cheese?” asks Stiles “That brunette bitch. Allison. Whatever her name was. She was firing arrows at the two. Poking holes like it was some twisted game.” I look up at everyone, hesitant “Honestly? It looked like she was getting off on it. It was sick.” I can feel my stomach turning just at the memory of it. “Hold on–do you mean Allison Argent?” asks Scott, he seems distressed. His brows are practically one, but his eyes are wide. Like he can’t believe it. “Look,” I offer, gently “I don’t know what her last name is. But if it is Argent? Then Scott, you need to stay far away from her. I’ve had plenty of experience with Argents. None of them are good news.” I don’t want Scott to get hurt, not like I did. Not like what Gerard and Kate did to me. “That doesn’t make any sense though. Why would Allison attack us? She knows Erica and Boyd. They haven’t done anything.” Scott pleads, voice cracking. I don’t get a chance to say anything before blondie–Erica–pipes up. “Look Scott. I get it. You love Allison but, your sister’s right. Allison is dangerous. If she hadn’t been there, I seriously think she would’ve killed us or come damn close.” Scott looks down at his feet, his shoulders slumped. “Hey,” I suggest, slowly moving form the couch, “it’s been a long day for us all. Why don’t I take Scott and we can all talk about this tomorrow?”. Aside from Scott possibly being in love with an Argent, I had a bullet taken out from my side today and I cannot wait to get into bed and sleep. “Sounds like a good idea. We can meet back here tomorrow.” says grumpy cat guy.

[missingmayuri]

KurotsuchiWeek2025 Day 6: Favourite Moments

This submission is going to be more of a gush and appreciation post then a written story. I want the last submission to be truly special.

I will be as spoiler free as possible.

I love Bleach A LOT and over the series Mayuri has had many wonderful moments.

From Szayel to Pernida he has never failed to be intriguing but I want to talk about not a specific moment but something bigger.

I feel like everyone is gonna talk about one of his well know fights so please your honor, today I shall be different!

I want to talk about the Kageroza arc.

Yes it's a filler, yes it's non cannon ( For now. Who knows since one of the movies came out as cannon)

The Kageroza filler arc has to be my favourite season of the show, in terms of the fillers anyway.

While on the subject on the filler arcs isn't it kinda funny how Mayuri has a huge presence in 90% of them.

In the Bount arc Mayuri was forced to give Uryu temporary power, a whole scene dedicated to his panic finding out he had been had by the Bounts themselves.

( Let's be honest his fight with Swatari was absolutely beautiful)

In the Sword Beasts arc he played a key role in finding out why Zanpokuto went rogue as well as finding out their inner workings and how to better manage them, with one whole episode dedicated to the destruction of his lab.

( RIP to Omeda's Zanpokuto spirit btw. If you know you know)

Lastly, the Kageroza arc was LITERALLY his arc. One of his workers planning to take over the soul society, a worker who admits that he has deep appreciation for his Captain but yet deems himself smarter then he is. A worker who tricked THE ENTIRE Soul Society by using Mayuri as fodder for people to believe Ichigo did away with him with Mayuri eventually going toe to toe with him in one of his classic fights.

( Blessed be the scene of Mayuri on the table)

The Kageroza arc provided me with so many memorable and favourite moments that it's hard to just choose one.

So allow me to make

A DEFENCE OF THE KAGEROZA ARC

Since it seems to be forgotten a lot 😂

I want to gloss over some of the smaller parts and talk about the fight between Mayuri and Kageroza.

Mayuri and Zaraki go to the Dangai

This here, the meeting scene and the dangai scene themselves are both peak KenMayu. The way they both fight, the lower camera that looks up from between them. THE SEXUAL TENSION. This was the first scene I think I ever really noticed how couple coded these two were, like that old bickering couple down the street that have been married 60 years and love and hate each other at the same time.

Guys please calm yourselves your in the presence of others. Save it for private time 😉

Mayuri suddenly reappears from being lost in the dangai

One thing this particular season was amazing for was the animation, I swear a lot of the most detailed faces of Mayuri ( Pre TYBW) came from this season alone.

I have mentioned it a long time ago but the old animation was truly at its best in this arc and the way he suddenly just appears after being praised so much by Kageroza is a stroke of genius writing, having Kageroza soon flee from a man he claims to be smarter than.

Mayuri graces a table with his glorious presence

Just this. We have all seen how cute he looks sat on that desk with his legs dangling. I need say no more 😂

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Kageroza VS Mayuri

So first off, this fight is absolutely a true scientist vs a true scientist.

We recently found out Szayel used to be an alchemist, which Mayuri himself ( In RBOS) says would become scammers. It's probably very clear that Mayuri from the get go never saw Szayel as a real scientist despite his claims.

Mayuri seems to have a certain respect for Kageroza despite him being an enemy and it is interesting to see him fight someone on a similar level to him. Kageroza wasn't quite there but Mayuri saw potential and even admits to the techniques used piquing his interest.

Another thing I particularly enjoyed was a small call back to the perfection speech. Kageroza makes a point of how his technique's aren't perfect but get the job done, probably knowing deep down that pleasing Mayuri may get him spared. We aren't sure how long Kageroza worked under him prior to this arc but it gives off the vibe he's been waiting quite a while and using the time to study his superior.

The fight between them seems almost civil, like old friends having a scuffle. All be it a dangerous one. This is also a fight with no particular winner which is interesting for Mayuri and I believe shows a great semblance of growth.

Back in SS arc he knew when to retreat but pushed Uryu as far as he could go. Here he knew when to back off immediately and not press, showing a sense of growth and learning on his part.

It almost feels like they were trying to potentially make Szayel 2.0, even having a cameo of the same vial Mayuri had used on him despite the drug itself being fundamentally different.

This season made very good use of characters being off screen for extended amounts of time, the beginning of the fight where Mayuri explains his absence honestly so very believable for him and is a clever use for how he reveals himself.

This series has some of my favourite moments through the entire series for our favourite scientist and while most fans skip filler entirely I would highly recommend if your a fan of Mayuri specifically.