#its only up on v app so far

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #61] Jinxing It

warnings: (1) mention of toe socks, chess talk, showers, a lil bit of titty luvin, lots of kisses, oral (f&m), fingering, ass play (m), whimpery koo <3, a lil cum swapping, the starluvrs are v cute!!! lots of lil clues and hints about upcoming chapters!!

a/n: there's an authors note over on a03 so I'll you spare you my nonsense! but hi, welcome back!! sorry for the wait on this one <33 if you're only just discovering bd, hello---this is part of an on-going story and includes an established relationship, to be read in context with the rest of the story, it's not a oneshot ^^. for kofi subs, there'll be a BD 62 teaser in a few hours!

wc: 13.7K

bd total wc: 560k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

Life dissolves with Jeongguk. Days merge into one. 

Like a tablet in water, or stardust into the atmosphere, time melts.

So does Jeongguk, though. He sinks into the bliss with you. Crumbles. Collapses. You’d go as far to say he turns into a supernova, like stars often do when they collapse. 

He lets himself merge into a shared identity that he’s certain isn’t normal of such a fledgling relationship.

Two weeks from the auction, and days have rolled on by without much fuss. Deals have been finalised on winning bids, and Jeongguk’s had meetings with realtors, Yoongi by his side every step of the way. Everything has happened without much thought. Life has just been accepted; new plans and opportunities integrated into the trajectory you’re on. No meteors to throw you off course nor cosmic calamities to falter your future.

Your name is on the interview list for Shinwon’s position, and Jeongguk’s due to be accepting the keys for the building tomorrow. Everything is as it should be.

It’s terrifying, in a way. 

You spent so long fearing the rug being swept from beneath your feet, but with Jeongguk’s help, carpets have been laid. They’re not budging.

And nor is he as he sits across from you, legs crossed, his chessboard keeping you apart. It’s a rarity to be on his bed not wrapped up in one another—but he’s almost as serious about chess as he is about you. Almost .

“You know what to do,” he grins, adamant that his crash course in the game was easy to follow. In reality, he’d moved a few pieces, said a few words, and promised with a smile that you’d be able to beat him. 

His belief in you is sweet, but entirely misplaced. You’ve not made a single move without his gentle encouragement, most times resulting in you giving the match up on a silver platter. 

The correct terminology evades you, and so do the rules. An app sits on your phone unused, a subscription running up a small fortune from a membership never used. It was set up back in the early days of knowing Jeongguk. You swore one day you’d be able to beat him—but life got busy, and quite frankly, chess is not your chosen way to unwind.

But spending time with Jeongguk is, and so you’ll take him in any capacity you can have him.

“Which one should I move?” You pout, utterly transfixed on the chess pieces. There’s a bewildered panic to your expression, brows furrowed over your glittery eyes, hand hovering to and fro over your side of the board.

You single in on the bishop. Look his way with hopeful, wide eyes. He shakes his head.

“Diagonals only,” he reminds you of how bishops move, at which point you realise it’s blocked in by pawns. Your hand moves to one of them, and he shrugs. “I mean… you can��.”

“But should I?”

“You wanna capture the king,” he says, reaching across to dictate your movements. He secures your grip on the pawn, and gently pushes it up a single square to free the bishop’s pathway. “Shift this one up, just one space. Clear the diagonal if you want to move the bishop.”

You do as he says, putting the pawn back in its original position so that you can be the one to place it. Slowly, you repeat his instructions, pushing the pawn up the board while Jeongguk nods. 

And then he grins in such a way that you just know you're about to curse him out.

He lifts his strategically placed knight. Knocks your freshly moved pawn. Claims the tile as his own.

“Rule number one,” He smirks, lip ring flipping in the corner of his pretty little mouth. “Never trust your opponent.”

“Dude, what the fuck,” you whine, looking at him with a faux sense of hurt and a very believable pout. “You’re my boyfriend . You’re supposed to help .”

“No moaning,” he dismisses your stropping, knowing he’s lost brownie points for his deception. He also knows he’ll earn your favour back soon enough, so whatever. “Now, what's your next move, baby? Go on.”

You study the board, and assess how different the opposing sides look. 

This time, he’s going easy on you. Kind of. You’ve almost exclusively been guided by him for the last half an hour, over a string of short games, all of which have ended with your very quick and immediate defeat. 

Jeongguk is too competitive for his own good. Jimin never wants to play against him, ‘cause he knows he’ll lose, too.

This is an indulgence for Jeongguk. He ought not to waste the opportunity—or worse yet, convince you never to play against him again.

He likes the idea of chess being an heirloom; the kind of skill he’ll teach his kids in the future. It’s integral to the very depths of his brain—how he works, and how his logical mind can jump and switch sometimes at the flick of a button—yet he rarely shares it with anyone else.

It’s only apt that you’d get an all-access pass.

Hovering over your now-free bishop, you narrow your eyes as you glance towards him. 

He nods. 

And so you move a pawn instead.

“I don’t trust you,” you tell him, because he told you not to. In a way, you are trusting him—just trusting that he’s a bullshitter. 

What you don’t realise is that you’ve just moved the very pawn that’s been protecting your King, and preventing Jeongguk from getting an easy win.

“B,” he sighs, looking helplessly at the move you just made. 

He couldn’t love you any more if he tried, but— fuck —he’ll never understand your brain.

“What?!”

He picks up his queen. Places it diagonally across from your exposed King. There’s nowhere for your King to go, other than in the direct line of his queen. He’s gone and fuckin’ done it again.

Check. 

Mate .

Groaning, you realise what's happening and flop down onto your back. Your brain is fried. There's no way Jeongguk actually enjoys this. 

"Not again," you whine, pretending to sob a little as you look up at Jeongguk's ceiling. It's without birds these days, but there are a few rogue strips of tape that remind you of your history within these four walls.

"B," Jeongguk laughs, clambering around the board to flop down with you. His arm rests over your tummy as his face aligns with yours. Might not have any birds above you, but the way you melt into his touch is just as deadly as it was the first time. You'll scorch a hole through his sheets with even the most innocent of encounters. His lips are a little pouty, smirk prevailing as he teases, "What did I tell you, huh? Protect your king."

"I tried!" You insist, your over-dramatic, distressed expression far too cute for him to care about playing anymore. He enjoys chess, but he enjoys you more.

"You left him wide open for me to take!"

"You could have gone easy on me!"

"I was!" He defends with a laugh, adamant that he could have taken you out in, like, two moves if he really wanted. "I swear you didn't listen to a single thing I told you—"

"I did! Listening to you is how you got that stupid pawn in the first place," you huff, putting your hand against the bottom of his throat to stop him from getting any closer. He doesn't deserve niceties in times like this.

He'd argue that the feeling of your sharp nails against his throat is incredibly nice.

He ignores your moaning. "I'll make you a deal."

"Go on."

"Strip chess."

"Pervert."

"For every move you make, I'll take an item of clothing off," he suggests with a glint in those starry eyes of his, ignoring your remark.

You assess the situation. Mentally make a checklist of his clothes. Sweats, a shirt, a (toe)sock on either foot, and underwear — that's only five moves, but then again, Jeongguk normally has your king trapped by that point.

"I think you're just trying to get me naked."

"I'm always trying to get you naked, B," he shrugs into his sheets, before tearing himself away and getting back into position on the opposite side of the board. "So are you gonna make it a challenge or not?"

"What happens if I take out one of your pieces?"

"If you do that," he hums, as if he's contemplating it. "I'll let you do that goddamn paper plane you wanna try out so bad."

Instantly, you sit up, like a puppy with a treat being teased in front of its snout. Your eyes are wide, smile incredulous. 

It's been a while since Jeongguk made those paper planes in your bedroom. Only one has ever been done, and quite frankly, you think it might have been the catalyst to your friendship's demise, because how you could ever go back to 'just friends' afterwards was beyond you. 

It's not like you didn't try to remain totally neutral about cock warming with him, but the way your heart swells whenever you do it now just goes to show how your bodies were made for one another. Like a turning of tides, or the cyclical rising and falling of the sun to make way for the moon, it's just as nature intended. He was made for you, and you him.

With a glint in your eye, you lean over to the chess board and swipe up one of his pawns at random. With a gasp, and a smile twitching at your lips, you exclaim, "Oh look! I won!"

"B," he laughs, but your expression remains entirely serious despite the light nature of it all.

"Lemme fuck your ass," You grin now, pleading ever so softly. "A deal is a deal."

"You didn't win."

"Says who?"

"Anyone who has ever played chess?"

"I've played, and I think I won. C'mon," you grin, positioning yourself on his lap. The chess piece is still in your hands as you lean down to nudge your nose up against his. "Face down, ass up for me, baby."

"You're in my way," he says.

"You could throw me across the room if you wanted to. I'm not stopping you."

"And I'm not throwing you across the room."

"Please," you pathetically beg.

"You really it want it, don't you?" He grins against your lips. "Huh?"

"Just wanna make you feel good."

"You always make me feel good," Jeongguk whispers, quietly deflecting the real reason why he hasn't let you do it yet. 

Truth be told, Jeongguk is a little scared. 

While yes, he's always been curious about pegging, he's never taken it that far before. Has never had the tools, shall we say, to explore by himself, and none of his exes or flings ever seemed too interested in it.

He wants it. Wants it with you. Just doesn't know how he'll react. Doesn't know what his body will do. Worries that things will take a turn for the worse and that you'll be so repulsed by him that you'll never want to have sex with him again, or that maybe he'll like it too much and that it'll be all he ever wants and it'd ruin just how good things are at the moment. 

His thoughts distract him as your lips press feathery kisses against the thick column of his neck. Something about you, and how delicate you can be, just makes him melt into your touch. His hands come to clutch your hair, a pretty little smile forming on his lips. 

"You don't have to do this," he quietly says, nails lightly scratching at your scalp. Your lips graze against his skin, before he gently pulls you back by the root of your hair. The sensation makes you want him even more than you already do. There's a love-drunk look of lust to your darling eyes, all glittery like they so often are as you look at him. 

Reaching to cup his jaw, you marvel at how a man who looks like him can be as tender as he is. The world would give him permission to break hearts, if he wanted it, but he doesn't. All he seems to want is to adore, and be adored in return—and how lucky you are to be on the receiving end of it.

A slight guilt settles in your stomach. You know he'd give you the world if you asked for it, but he isn't giving you this. 

"I'm only teasing," you tell him, which isn't strictly true. You do wanna do it, but your incessant begging is what you're joking about. It's not like you'll die if you can't fuck his ass (maybe). "I'll respectfully stay out of your ass unless requested otherwise."

He shakes his head. Laughs. Kisses you, 'cause he just can't help himself, then pulls you down into the sheets with him. "I give it a day until you're asking again."

Secretly, he wants you to ask again. It doesn't feel like pressure. Feels like validation; as if you want this even more than he does.

The thing is, you can't say no to a challenge. "Wanna bet?"

No. 

But he can't resist either. "You're on."

Yoongi stands with his shoulders pressed to glass front door, keys looped on his fingers. The streets in this area are always quiet until the evening, minor hustle and bustle from delivery drivers dropping off stock to businesses down the alley disturbing the peace. 

A small hotteok stall sits lopsided, supported by the building's exterior wall, red tarpaulin covering it from the weather and any inquisitive eyes. An elderly man runs it during the weekends, but for the rest of the week, it sits derelict. It's an eyesore, to say the least. Not the kind of thing that screams 'hot new restaurant' to anyone walking by.

It's as Yoongi's contemplating how to solve this problem, figuring the stallhand probably had an agreement with the previous owners, when Jeongguk comes into his line of vision. He tweaks a brow in Jeongguk's direction, almost as if to ask: what time do you call this?

Jeongguk's right on time. It's not a minute past twelve, which is exactly the time Yoongi told him to arrive. 

Sale finalised, paperwork complete, Yoongi got given the keys this morning. It's a done deal. The building is his, and in turn, the restaurant is Jeongguk’s. 

Despite his nonchalance, when Yoongi sees Jeongguk grin, he can't help but smile too.

"Shut up," Yoongi tells him. "We're serious businessmen. Don't get giggly with me."

"I'm not!" Jeongguk laughs, hands up in defence, until Yoongi puts his own hand out for Jeongguk to shake. Naturally, Jeongguk uses Yoongi's hand to pull him in for a hug instead. Patting his back, Jeongguk is almost fighting the urge to cry. He's waited so long for this. Worked so hard. Doesn't think any of it would be possible without Yoongi, but Yoongi would disagree.

"You better make the best fuckin' samgyeopsal this city has ever seen," Yoongi threatens with all the love in the world, breaking from the hug. Passing over the keys, he nods towards the doors. "Do us the honours."

Yoongi is fatherly in the way he never takes the glory for himself. Will be the kind of dad to build a lego castle and let his kid put the flag in place at the end of his labour. 

Jeongguk doesn't mention it, but he's noticed the way Seoyeon has been the designated driver for the past few weeks; how she didn't drink at auction, and how Yoongi's been even more attentive than he usually is. 

Could be nothing at all. Could just be a change in the weather.

But it could mean everything, and Jeongguk knows better than to intrude before being welcomed in on the news. 

Pushing the key into the lock, Jeongguk is quietly enamoured with the fact the premises has a lock and key instead of the typical keypad locks that are usually in place. The metal grates against itself as he twists the lock open, and pushes the door open. 

There's a separate side entrance for access to the upper floors. 

The floors Jeongguk intends to be the restaurant already have a connecting staircase towards the back of the room, which will make it infinitely easier for staying out of Yoongi's hair whenever he's in the workshop.

In the light of day, the furniture from the previous owners now removed, it's so much easier for Jeongguk to envisage how everything will look; where the signage will hang, where the bar will go, and, most importantly, where the disco balls will hang.

"It's really happening," he exhales, as if he hadn't realised it at any earlier stage in the process.

Yoongi doesn't berate him. Instead, he takes a deep breath, too. Nods. "It's really happening."

Though he smiles, Jeongguk wishes he had a hand to hold as tightly as his lips press together. Wishes you were here. Knows you're busy with work, making up hours to account for the fact you'll have some time off at the end of the week for your interview at the Ryu.

Why you need an interview is beyond him. He thinks they're being ridiculous. Thinks that even entertaining the idea of hiring someone else is an insult. Got so wound up about it, ranting to Jimin while he was making dinner, that he burned his sauce a couple of nights ago. Is now on a talking while cooking ban. Jimin says Jeongguk can't be trusted to multitask. Jeongguk says Jimin is a little prick.

The day is lost to making plans; sketches drawn up on Jeongguk's ipad, discussions with Yoongi about how to go about getting liscences for the premises, and back and forth over what should be done with the top two floors.

The idea of Taehyung using the fourth floor as a studio is considered, but both of them know how much he adores his current place. 

"Think he'd live there, if he could," Yoongi muses picking up a slice of napjak mandu with his chopsticks, dipping it into the tteokbokki sauce. They'd ordered from the place near his current workshop, and it makes him lament the idea of leaving it behind. 

Perhaps he can keep them both. Use the smaller space as his own little sanctuary, and the third floor here as his public-facing premises. Might be a bit of a waste, but if he can afford the rent, then why not?

"Tell you what," Yoongi hums as he swallows down his food. "If you don't add something like this to the menu, I'm kicking you out."

"I'll put it on the secret menu," Jeongguk offers, knowing that it definitely won't be what he offers to punters. He makes a mean tteokbokki, but it doesn't fit the vision of what he wants for this place. "Well, what about Jimin? He could start up his own interior place, if he wants. He's got the money for it, and I know the office he's in at the moment has been stifling him. Lost out on, like, three big commissions in the last quarter because the boss went with some other prick's ideas. Jimin's wasted there."

Yoongi hums in agreement as he swallows down his food. "We could always get him to help out with the design of this place. I reckon he knows all the tricks for good energy."

Nodding, Jeongguk laughs. Picks up another rice cake and chows down on it as he adds, "Should have seen him when we moved into our current place. Man had a compass out to align a sofa with the right energy."

"Sounds about right," Yoongi grins, resting his chopsticks back down against the edge of the bowl. "Well, what about your missus, then? Would she want gallery space? Somewhere for curation?"

Jeongguk chokes on his rice cake, and it's not because of the spice. 

"She's not my missus—" he corrects, but then decides he doesn't want to "—at least, not yet. And she's got a big interview with The Ryu this week. I'm not sure opening her own gallery is on her agenda, but I can put the feelers out—and like… I don't know. Wouldn't it be a bit much? We spend so much time together, already. She'd get sick of me if I was working two floors below."

"Would you get sick of her?"

"Don't be stupid. No."

"Exactly," Yoongi says as if it's obvious—which, in all fairness, he thinks it is. "The pair of you are in a perpetual honeymoon phase."

Jeongguk shakes his head, as if he isn't beaming. "Shut up. Just got a good thing going—and hey, you're hardly one to talk. How's Seoyeon?"

"Good, yeah," Yoongi nods, but doesn't divulge any further. As much as Jeongguk is dying to ask, he holds back. "She wants you all round for dinner soon, so expect an invite in the group chat."

"For any reason?" Jeongguk baits Yoongi, cause he just can't help himself.

Unlucky for him, Yoongi is as stoic as can be. "You know Seo. She loves any excuse for a dinner party. Has started making her own pasta and I think she wants tasters."

"B makes a mean pasta," Jeongguk says, because his thoughts so often wind back to you, and he just can't help himself. "I'm sure she'll be buzzing to try Seoyeons."

A sense of pride washes over Yoongi's features. "Gah, when did you grow up, Jeongguk? Practically married, aren't you?"

Dismissive in how he shakes his head, Jeongguk can't help but let a bashful smile grow on his face. The soft lights overhead glimmer down him, putting those stars Jeongguk adores so much right back in his eyes. He'll never get rid of you. Will eternally carry the evidence of how utterly smitten he is.

Should you ever leave him, Jeongguk thinks he'd simply die of a broken heart. Wouldn't know how to walk if it weren't in the direction of you. Would stumble and fall until he inevitably wound up back at your door like a wounded puppy.

So perahps Yoongi is right. Maybe it would make sense to offer you the space—but you've got your own agenda. Your own dreams. Jeongguk can't just entrap you in his.

The thing is, once your shift is up, and you're heading to the restaurant premises to see Jeongguk, you can't help but feel like this is a dream come true for you. 

His ambition and drive have rubbed off on you; encouraged you up a career path you once thought was overgrown with thorns and rubble. Has shown you that all you need is a little bit of elbow grease and a pair of secateurs to go after what you want. 

It's dark by the time you arrive. Lights from the other establishments flood the streets, but the blinds are closed on the restaurant for a little privacy. A handwritten 'under new management' sign is taped to the front door in Jeongguk's signature penstroke. A little smiley face accents it; a show of how he feels, you presume. 

Pulling your phone from your back pocket, you dial through to him, 'cause you've no idea how to get in, nor if he's even actually there. The building is just on the way home from the art cafe, and you'd left Jeongguk's place that morning to a very smiley boyfriend instead of his usual 'don't go' pout, so you figure he's spent all day busy with exciting plans.

"Sorry, not interested," Jeongguk's voice purrs through the speaker, as if you're some kind of cold-calling saleswoman with nothing half-decent to offer him. 

"What if I told you I'm outside the restaurant and that I'm naked under my clothes?"

"Aren't we all naked under our clothes?"

"Just open the door," you grin down the phone as he comes into view through the glass doors. 

He's got the kind of look on his face that you'd expect: pouty lips with heavy-lidded eyes. Softening ever so slightly when he notices the bunch of wildflowers poking out from the tote bag you've got hooked over your shoulder, his eyes are incapable of ever hiding his true feelings. 

Mild confusion ( did someone get you flowers?) dismissed with easy understanding—they're from the stall he always buys you flowers from, so he knows you got them yourself.

It's very conflicting to adore you and to also want to fuck you into next Tuesday, but it garners you a gaze nobody else is ever lucky enough to receive from him. You cherish it. Think about it near-constantly whenever he's not by your side.

"You're a terrible saleswoman," he scolds so softly it feels like praise.

"And yet here you are, answering the door for me," you shrug with a knowing smile, sure that'd he take whatever you sold him. Would buy sand, water, air from you. Would let you swindle him. 

"And yet here I am."

Hanging up, you mouth 'open it' through the door, and he does as he's told—kind of.

Blocking the now half-open door, he childishly asks, "What's the password?"

"I love you?"

"Ew. Gross. Get a room. No."

"Fuck you.”

"Not the password either, but I'm more than willing."

"Ew. Gross," you imitate him, gagging a little for an extra immaturity. "Hmm… Byeol is the best?"

"Ddaeng."

"Jimin sucks?"

"Ddaeng… but I approve. Good guess."

"Gimme a hint."

"It's the name of the restaurant."

The confidence that comes with the restaurant being his now is nothing short of a miracle. He's so certain of everything these days, in a way he never was before—but why shouldn't he? He got the girl. Got the dream. There's nothing he can't do. Statistically, he's two for two. A winner by all counts. A gold medalist in his very own Olympics.

"You've never told me what you want to name it!" You protest with a whine, thinking he's being entirely unfair.

It's not like you haven't asked a million times over. He's just been keeping it underwraps. Was scared that speaking it into existence would jinx it. Would refuse with a coy grin, and assurance that he'd reveal it soon enough.

Truth be told, Jeongguk's gone back and forth over names. It's probably changed ten times since he's known you, but then you said something at the fundraising auction, and everything sort of clicked into place. 

A name was coined and it wouldn't stop embossing itself into Jeongguk's dreams; the branding, the signage, everything. A new vision of what he wanted spawned like lava onto a mountainside. You sparked a volcano he didn't even realise existed, and it's solidified into molten rock. 

"I'll cut you a deal," you offer, knowing that you'll never get it and he'll never ease. Shrugging your shoulder to gesture towards the bag, you begin your enticement. "I've got cold beer and hot burgers from that place you like down the road. They're all yours in you let me in—if not, I'm going home and Danbi will—"

"Say no more," Jeongguk pushes the door open and grabs your hand, pulling you into the vacant restaurant with him. The door clicks close behind you, and Jeongguk spins you around so that you're stood infront of him, facing the large room. Arms wrapping around your waist, Jeongguk rests his chin on your shoulder, gently pressing a kiss to your neck. "Welcome in."

It's a lot to take in all at once. The room stands empty, save for the camping chairs and table Yoongi and Jeongguk had coversed around earlier, Jeongguk's ipad resting on the table with a low battery warning on the dimly lit screen. There's paperwork scattered on the surface—old utilities letters that they were using to sort out the new bills—and a bag of trash tied up on the floor from their lunch.

"I don't smell burgers," Jeongguk mumbles against your neck.

"I was lying."

"You've no shame."

Turning your head, you let him raise his nose to yours, a feathery kiss greeting your lips. 

Whenever your doe-eyed boy greets you like this, you always feel a bit like snow white; as if a dozen tiny creatures will flock to you and bestow their love upon you.

It'd be fruitless, mind you, for none of them could even come close to how deeply Jeongguk adores you. He'd sit in the corner, jealous and bratty as they fawned over you. Would hate not being the object of your affection. Would strop until your focus was back on him.

"I'll order some," you promise, but Jeongguk shakes his head. 

"Won't be here much longer. We can pick some up on the way home."

"Sure?"

"Yeah, baby," he tenderly whispers, punctuating himself with a slightly firmer kiss, before pulling away from you. Walking into the middle of the room, he holds out his arms. Grins. "Welcome."

"It's a pleasure," you grin, freely stepping into the space now, looking around with awestruck eyes knowing that this is his . "Holy shit, Gguk."

"Yeah," he agrees with your sentiment. "Mad, innit?"

"Just a little."

When you think back to the Jeongguk you first met—the one who spent hours upon hours studying for his exams, all the while working at the bar of an admittedly shitty club—you can't help but feel overwhelmed with pride. He worked himself to the bone for his dreams. 

The space is large enough for Jeongguk to go wild with it. There's no end to his possibilities. He's got an arsenal of weapons in his back pocket in the form of his friends—Yoongi can fit the place out, Jimin can help with the design work, Taehyung can make a central art piece, and Namjoon can get it featured in the paper. Of course, he won't take advantage of his access to them, but knowing how willing his friends always are to help out, it's kind of like a no-brainer. He's got all the tools needed for success.

"And right here," he points up, standing in the middle of a square marked out with tape on the floor. It's large and in the centre of the room—the intended space for a central bar and banchan preparation spot, flipping the conventions of traditional barbecue places on their heads. Wants the food to quite literally be at the heart of the restaurant. "Is where the disco balls will be."

For a second, you think you miss-hear him, but the way his smiles grows when confronted with your confusion only proves you heard perfectly fine.

Sitting on one of the camping chairs Yoongi and Jeongguk had set up earlier, you've been watching him talk you through his vision for the place. It sounds incredible—just like him, but in restaurant version. 

"Is that not a health and safety hazard?" You giggle, desperate to get up and stand with him, but feeling the need to maintain distance. He's having his moment. He doesn't need a shared stage—and yet here he is, announcing that the very embodiment of you will be centre stage for the foreseeable. 

Jeongguk shrugs. "Haven't thought that far ahead. There's gonna be disco balls here whether they like it or not, though."

Realistically, if the health and safety inspectors tell him no disco balls, there'll be no disco balls—but he won't be happy about it. Will be pouty. You both know he's just being facetious, and that he'll comply with whatever is asked of him. 

"It's my restaurant, baby," he reminds you, holding out his hands, cause he wants you closer. Naturally, you do ass requested, and join him in his square. His arm slips around your waist, a kiss firmly being pressed to your forehead before your chin leans on his chest. Looking up at him, it's a wonder that you're able to have conversations that last more than a single back and forth. A miracle, even. "I can do what I want."

There's something so incredibly sexy about this cocksure arrogance. He's not the same guy you met back in the confines of Dionysus, and while you adored him back then, you adore him even more now.

"You're sexy when you talk business," you hum, as his hand dip a little further south to squeeze your ass. "Home?"

He nods, a pretty smile hanging off his lips. "Mine or yours?"

"Yours is closer," you tell him, pulling away, linking your fingers with his as you do so, dragging him with you. Hooking your bag up over your shoulder, you're reminded of the flowers. "Oh—these are for you, by the way."

Passing them over, you're not surprised by his confusion.

"For me?"

The bunch of wildflowers looked pretty big in your hands, but remarkably small in his. You have to make a considered effort to not groan. 

"Mhmm," you nod with a sweet smile. "A congratulations."

Jeongguk's head pushes back a little into his neck, shoulders broadening as his smile forms. He quickly tilts his head to the side and then back again in the way he often does whenever his brain is processing something new. 

"Never had flowers before."

"Nice, isn't it?" You grin, knowing that nothing beats fresh flowers when it comes to small pockets of expressed admiration. 

With a bashful nod, Jeongguk feels like he should feel emasculated, but can't quite work out the way he actually does feel. All he knows is that he likes it. And that he wants to get home. And that he wants you in his bed. Naked, preferably. 

His thoughts dart back and forth to the last time you were in his room. Gets him hot. Blushing. 

Thankfully, you don't seem to notice—or if you do, you don't mention it. Why would you? It's cute. 

"What time is your interview tomorrow?" Jeongguk asks as he makes sure the door is locked behind you both. 

"One in the afternoon," you reply with a certain nonchalance, as if you're unphased, which Jeongguk knows is absolute bullshit. "Hobes said he'll work my shift if I buy him a month's supply of Sprite, so I've got, like, 48 cans arriving tomorrow."

He would have done it for free, but he's a tough bargainer and you're just an easy sell when it comes to making the people you care about happy.

"His blood will turn into sprite," Jeongguk laughs, linking his hand with yours once more as you head down the road to the nearest subway entrance. "How are you feeling about it? We can practise interview questions later, if you like."

Shaking your head, you smile. "It'll just make me nervous, and at the moment, I'm pretty calm about things. Thank you, though."

"Well, if you change your mind," Jeongguk reinforces the offer, before you redirect the conversation and get him babbling about the restaurant—projected timelines, contractors, suppliers. There's so much to do, and yet it doesn't feel overwhelming in the slightest. Not yet, at least.

With a pit stop at the burger place as promised, the journey home is effortless. Intrinsic by this point. 

Shoes off by the door, Jimin is out for a company dinner, so it's just the pair of you.

"Has he spoken with you about Nabi, yet?" You ask as you grab some condiments from the kitchen, while Jeongguk fills a vase with water.

"God, no," Jeongguk laughs. "He used to tease me all the time about you, but now he can't even look me in the eyes 'cause he's worried I'll ask about it. Idiot."

"He used to tease you? About me?" You hum, a little smug at this little snippet of information. 

"You know what he's like," Jeongguk reminds you, 'cause it's not like you've ever been spared from Jimin's teasing. "Doesn't know how to not be irritating. Character flaw. Think he was born that way."

Despite his annoying tendencies, Jimin is adored by pretty much everyone he meets. Jeongguk doesn't say such things to be mean, but rather because he views him like a sibling. 

"If anyone knows how to handle him, it's Nabi," you muse, thinking back to Pohang. "He'd have driven me insane organising the Jilympics."

"Don't call it that," Jeongguk smiles at how ridiculous his best friend is. Delicately arranging the flowers, Jeongguk's sense of perfectionism comes out once more. "He's a little narcissist. He'll sense his ego being inflated from miles away, and then his head won't be able to fit through doors." Tweaking a yellow flower to move it more centrally, Jeongguk shakes his head. "And to think the first time you were in this apartment—"

"Shut up," you groan, not wanting to be reminded of it. "Everybody makes mistakes."

"Alright, Hannah Montana," Jeongguk teases you. "It's just kinda wild, isn't it? How everything has just worked itself out?"

"Don't," you say with a glint in your eye. "You'll jinx it."

Perhaps it's foolish—naive, even—but he doesn't think it's possible. Thinks that this is all set in stone. That your names have been etched on a cliffside somewhere, and that's where you'll remain forever more. 

He forgets that cliffs erode. That the weather is unpredictable, and life even more so. 

He's always been cautious. Reluctant of counting eggs.

But he’s hungry. Ravenous. The first at the dinner table, and the last to leave. Bites off more than he can chew. Chokes and splutters in the wake of it all, every single damn time.

It’s a flaw he’ll admit to having, but why can’t vices be virtues? Why can’t he be optimistic? Why shouldn’t he hope for the best? He spent so long living in a perpetual state of fear, and it never did him any good. Wasn’t until he started opening himself to the idea of things working out okay that they actually started heading in that direction.

“I’ll do no such thing,” he assures you, reaching for a pan to start with his second course. Again, he’s hungry in all aspects of the word. Hasn’t even had his burgers yet, but he’s a growing boy, or so he’d have you believe. Better to just get it cooked first, and save him the hassle of getting up again later. “You want some?”

He nods towards the empty saucepan, but doesn’t need to explain what he’s making. You know it’ll be instant bibimyeon.

“A little,” you nod, knowing that this relationship is gonna be terrible for your waistline. Opening up his fridge, you pull a can of soda from the fridge. Jeongguk doesn’t really ever buy soda, unlike you and your minor peach soda addiction, but take-out places always chuck a complimentary can of something in with your orders, so he’s got quite a stockpile now.

“You want a beer or something instead?” He asks, as he begins to prepare the instant noodles in the most embellished way he possibly can. Spices, sauces, you name it, he’s always adding something—and it’s always delicious. 

Cracking the can open, you set it down and swipe the camera of your phone up to snap a picture of him; to document him in his element. “Nah, it’s okay. Want a clear head for tomorrow.”

Jeongguk smiles, hearing the synthetic shutter of your phone clicking. “Obsessed.”

“So?” You grin, immediately swiping across to open up Instagram and preserve the moment on your story. “You love it.”

Though he doesn’t reply, he does look in your direction with a smile that would only confirm your words.

Together, you fall into a casual rhythm, you perched up on a barstool while he cooks. Conversation darts from A to B, Y to Z. There’s no topic of conversation too obscure nor taboo for you to realm into the depths of, but there’s also something comforting about how you can just natter about the weather, how he should get his hair cut, what’s on at the cinema. 

By the time he’s eaten and cleaned up the kitchen, you’re already in the shower. It’ll be an early night. You’ve both been working today, and both have important things to get done the next day. 

There’s no objection from you as he taps on the door and asks to come in. You hadn’t locked it deliberately. Jimin’s out, and even if he’d have come home, he’d have heard the shower going—or Jeongguk would have told him. There’s no real worry there.

“Been looking forward to this all day,” Jeongguk admits as he grabs his shirt by the nape of his neck, pulling it over his head in that boyish way he so often does. Neither of you really care about being naked—it’s a daily occurrence at this point—but seeing him get undressed makes your heart feel all jelly-like and void of structure. The chambers melt, and so do you. 

It’s not just attraction, but affection. Acknowledgement that he doesn’t mind being vulnerable with you. That the things humans do to renew themselves — eat, shower, sleep — are things he wants to do with you. He doesn’t want to be full if you’re hungry, sleep while you’re starved of rest, nor wash away the traces of you. Renewal without you just doesn’t make sense to him. 

“Me too,” you quietly say as he joins you. The water pitter-patters down on you both, his hair wetting before laying flat against his forehead. When his deft hands push it away, it always falls back. 

Instinctively, your arms wrap around his waist, his around your shoulders, the embrace akin to coming home. 

“We should both just quit our jobs and do this forever,” Jeongguk muses, almost sleepy in how he mumbles his words against the top of your head. 

“Someone’s gotta pay the water bill,” you smile against his bare chest.

“That’s why I live with Jimin,” Jeongguk replies, tone cheeky and warm. 

The smile on your face sweetly settles into something a little more neutral as you outwardly consider your own living situation. “Lease is up soon, yanno. Mine and Dans.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, wet hair tangling over itself against his skin. He holds you just as tightly. “Haven’t started looking for new places, yet.”

“I’ve still got a few months left on mine,” Jeongguk says, pulling back to reposition the shower head. Just wants to hear you a little more clearly. “My bed is basically yours anyways.”

It doesn’t take a genius to work out what he’s insinuating—but it also doesn’t take a genius to know that it wouldn’t be the right thing for you both, yet. 

Your eyes are soft as you shake your head. “I’ve a whole apartment's worth of stuff, Gguk. I can’t just move into your room. Need my own space.”

He frowns, reaching for the shampoo. “You can. And I’ll even move my statues.”

“You mean your action figures?”

“Oh my god,” he groans, and then you’re giggling, and any negative thoughts Jeongguk could have about you saying ‘no’ dissolve into nothingness, like water running down the drain. He passes you over the shampoo once he’s gotten himself some, and adds, “People pay good money for a collection like mine.”

“You mean you spent a fuck ton of money on them?”

“We’ve all got our weaknesses,” he protests. “You’ve got so many clothes. I don’t think I’ve ever been into your room when there hasn’t been an avalanche of clothes on the chair, wardrobe and dressers bursting at seams—”

“Exactly,” You laugh. “Now imagine all of that in your room.”

He takes a second. Visualises it as he lathers up the foamy shampoo in his hair and almost hisses. “Yeah. You’re right. I take it back. Get your own place.”

Rolling your eyes, you flick a little water in his direction, as if it makes a difference. 

He grins, teeth on show, lip ring doing the thing that just makes you melt. 

“See,” you grin right back. “I’m always right.”

The rest of your shower is littered with dumb conversations and stolen kisses between shampoo rinses. In fact, it’s how the rest of the evening continues. Some dumb action film plays on the tv, and then Jeongguk finds a dumb youtube quiz, and you giggle into the early hours over some other dumb shit. Dumb, dumb, dumb and oh so totally in love. 

The apartment issue lingers in the back of Jeongguk’s mind, though, and questions dance on the tip of his tongue. He tries to brush them away, but the mint of his toothpaste isn’t enough to erase them. They taste sour, and he knows the only way to rid the sensation is to speak them into existence.

Gone midnight, the city is still alive. His curtains are open, because you’ve started to get used to the way he likes to sleep, and find it far easier to wake up early when the sun is giving you a warm welcome to the day. Funny, how things change. How willing he was to change his habits for you, and how seamlessly yours have changed to fit him. You’re better for knowing one another, or so it feels. 

The light pollution gives his bedroom a soft glow, and with every change of advertisement on the billboards across the street, the hue changes. Like his own personal mood lamp, it’s become a staple of his home. It’s blue, now, and so is he when he considers the fact that you haven’t yet reached the stage of sharing a home.

Your arm is looped over his waist, ‘cause he’d decided that the role of the little spoon would be going to him. Fingers interlocked with yours, he has no interest in ever letting go. 

“B?”

“Mhmm?”

“Is Dan definitely moving in with Tae?”

“Think so.”

Jeongguk doesn’t immediately reply, but you leave space open for him. A question like that didn’t come out of the blue. It’s something he’s been ruminating on, no doubt.

When he finally does speak, the weight of his soft, if not somewhat pouty, words crush down on your chest in a way that you can’t quite explain. Hell, in a way you don’t want to explain, because it would mean admitting that a man has such power over you (even if said man is Jeon Jeongguk).

“They’ve always been one step ahead of us,” he laments.

And then he leaves silence for you. Knows that you always have a response of some kind that will settle his woes. Feels guilty that you’re always cleaning up the messes of his loose lips, but would be a liar if he said he didn’t crave the sweet nothings you soothe him with.

“They’re on an entirely different path, baby,” you gently press a kiss into his shoulder. He’s so warm and powder-fresh from his shower that you can’t help but want to cling to him like a koala bear. Most importantly, though, you don’t want him to move away. Space to talk is fine, but physical space? God, no. “There's no use comparing.”

But Jeongguk is a glutton for punishment. Will continue making himself feel small for the sake of his perceived flaws.

“Loved you before Taehyung even knew who Danbi was,” Jeongguk pouts, ‘cause he’s in his head again, going round in circles when he really needn’t be. You know he does this, though. It doesn’t surprise nor concern you. If anything, it reassures you, because his willingness to share these thoughts just signposts how far you’ve both come. He used to stew and sour over things like this. Now, he shares his burdens “But they’re doing all these big milestones first. They were a couple, went on vacation, and now moving in together. All before us.”

“It’s not a competition,” you sweetly laugh. “Their relationship couldn’t be more different to ours. Plus I hardly consider a weekend in Jeju a big vacation—we can literally do that this weekend, if you want.”

You’re not sure why you’ve never been away together. Busan is always lovely, but it’s a short drive, and is somewhere Jeongguk still considers to be home. It’s not a holiday. Perhaps you should rectify that. It's better spoken about during the daylight hours, but always a little nicer to dream at night. Make silly, fantastical plans that you could always turn into reality, if you really wanted. 

“Gguk,” you softly continue. “As much as I love them both, we’re literally so different from them. Our relationship was never gonna be like theirs.”

“You think?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, lips brushing against the bare skin of his shoulder. “Well, I mean, he lets her peg him for starters—”

Jeongguk turns so quickly it’s a miracle he doesn’t fall out of bed. Even in the darkness of his room at night, the open curtains mean his shock is easy to make out. “Does he actually?!”

Giggling, you roll onto your back, thoroughly enjoying his reaction. Truth is, you’ve no idea. Just said it to be a dick. 

“Probably,” you say, admitting that you don’t know. You just knew it would cause a reaction. Ease the tension, somewhat. “He’s like, obsessed with her. Would let her do anything she wants.”

Sinking back down into the sheets with you, Jeongguk wraps his arm over your body now. Pulls you close. Presses a kiss to your neck, and says, “You lost the bet, y’know? Can’t even go 24 hours without thinking about fucking my ass, can you?”

It sounds like a complaint, but the way his lips seem unable to stop pressing wet kisses against your throat would prove otherwise. Your hand tangles in his hair, scratching his scalp in approval. 

“Cute that you think I haven’t been thinking about it all day,” you tease, biting back the small murmur of a moan that’s just begging to escape from his touch. 

You often have thoughts about him throughout the day, both pure and impure. It’s not like you mean to—it’s just that there’s something about Jeongguk that is impossible to forget. Like a class-A drug, you linger from high to high, using thoughts about him to sustain your comedown until you can see him again. 

He is your boyfriend, though. Would be weirder if you weren’t a little obsessed.

“Liar,” he scolds. “I picked your clothes up after our shower. Your underwear were dry.”

“You were inspecting my underwear? Freak,” you tease, because quite honestly the idea of him studying your underwear in the hopes of finding arousal is kinda hot, even if a little perverted. “And maybe it’s because you don’t get me excited.”

Rolling his eyes, Jeongguk ignores your insult. Instead, his hand creeps down the mound of your pussy, pausing before he sinks his fingers between your thighs. “So you’ll be dry right now, then?”

“I’ll be just like the Gobi,” you assure him with that tone of defiance he's grown to adore. “Try me.”

You don’t know why you’re offering yourself up like this, ‘cause you know it’s only gonna end up one way.

“You’re such a fuckin’ liar,” he smirks—and then is proven correct as his fingers slide between your slick folds with ease. A gasp escapes from your lips as he casually brushes past your clit, paying it no attention whatsoever. “And even if you weren’t, there’s like, five bigger deserts than the Gobi. Sounds like it’s a pretty easy drought to rectify—but fuckin’ hell, B. My pretty girl and her filthy mouth. Full of lies, isn’t it? You’re fuckin’ soaked.”

“No,” you purr, hips languidly rolling to intensify the sensation he’s facilitating. After all, he’s right. There’s nothing dry about the situation between your legs. “Never told a lie in my life.”

His teeth nip at your neck as his body presses up against your side, the thick ridge of his cock letting you know that you most certainly get him excited. 

“You’re so full of shit, B,” he quietly says, lips from a pretty little kiss against the edge of your jaw. “Told so many lies, haven’t you, hm? Like when you used to tell people we were just friends?”

The desperate sigh that escapes your mouth only fuels him on even more.

“You remember the first time I touched you like this, huh?” He husks against your ear. “Those pretty eyes of yours watching us in the mirror. You can see us now, can’t you?”

Nudging his head against yours, he encourages you to look in the direction of his mirror. You always sleep on the side of the bed closest to it, but you rarely pay it any attention these days. The pair of you are obscured—bed sheets and shadows hiding what he’s doing to you—but the eroticism is just as potent as it always was.

“Gguk,” you rasp, back arching when he strokes against your clit just right.

Restraint is something that you wish you had been gifted with, but alas—you are just a girl, and he is just the sexiest man you’ve ever had the pleasure of sharing a bed with. Of course you melt with every little thing he does.

“What is it, baby?” His index finger pushes into the seeping entrance of your cunt, just once, twice, to really get you moaning. “You like it when your boyfriend touches you?”

Something about Jeongguk referring to himself like that always gets you hot, but it’s partially because of the way he almost growls when he does it. You know it’s a turn-on for him. Know that his cock is throbbing. Know he loves calling himself yours.

Tugging on his arm, you encourage him to move on top of you. It’s late, and you should both be getting a good night's rest, but whatever. In half an hour, you’ll both be away with the fairies. If anything, this will help you fall asleep quicker.

“Thought you wanted an early night?” he husks against your lips, finishing his question with a kiss that lasts far longer than any words spoken. His firm lips part yours as your legs wrap around his hips as they grind up against yours.

“And I thought you said whoever speaks about fucking your ass next loses?” You smile against his lips, knowing that he definitely must have a twisted idea of what punishment is. “How is this losing?”

“We never set out terms,” he reminds you, unable to stop himself from kissing you between sentences. “But maybe it's not about losing. Maybe it’s about winning.”

“Okay?” You entertain his flirt, giggling between those kisses he just can’t seem to stop giving you. “So what are you winning?”

He pretends to give it thoughtful consideration. Squints his eyes and looks away as if contemplating one of life's great questions. Why are we here? What is the point of life? How do I want my girlfriend to make me cum tonight?

Jeongguk presses a kiss to your neck, nose nudging against your skin. He’s feline-like. Purry. Pathetic. Just how you like him.

“You haven’t sucked me off in a while,” he whispers, teeth nipping at your earlobe. Your hand laces in his hair, a soft moan humming from your lips. There’s a softness to the slow movements of your bodies. A comfort. A desperation. Unadulterated devotion. “So maybe that?”

You laugh at his shamelessness. Press a kiss to his temple, still scratching at his scalp. “I gave you a blowjob, like, two days ago, baby.”

“I know,” he whines like a wounded puppy, all docile and dejected. “It’s been so long I might die.”

“Hmm?” You hum in response, pushing on his waist ever so slightly until he gets the message to roll onto his back. He does as he's told, because he really is just a puppy dog beneath it all. Well-trained and desperate for a treat.

Following the movements of his body, you naturally ease into position on top of him. Legs straddled either side of his waist, you raise yourself up into a seated position, earning you a grunt of approval from Jeongguk. 

The way his hands immediately reach up to play with your chest is curious, considering he still plays himself off as an ass guy. Strong with his movements, he grips the softness of your tits, his hips gently pulsing up against you.

“These might help prolong my life expectancy,” he says. “Best stress balls known to man.”

He seems quite content like this. Eyes closed, a smile hangs off his lips like he’s in a serene state of bliss. You cock your brow, unable to fight a smile, too. 

“Did you just call my tits… balls?”

One of his eyes cracks open. “No?”

“You definitely did.”

“Didn’t.”

“Did—”

“Byeol,” he reprimands your diversion of the topic. “C’mon. Business, baby.”

“Is that all I am to you, huh?” You say, reaching for his wrist so that you can pull your hairband from it. He lets you do so and looks on with salacious curiosity as you begin to tie your hair up in a ponytail. “Just a transaction?”

“Mhmm,” he nods, his own hair tangling against his pillow as he does so. “A bird for a bird, remember?”

“Are we not past the point of the birds?”

“Well, yeah,” he says as if it’s totally obvious. “Thought we were gonna do a plane?”

Jeongguk’s reference back to the paper planes that he crafted in your bedroom makes your heart seize. You know what he means by that. Knows that it’s permission, in a way. That he wants what you want, even if he doesn’t outwardly say it.

“Are we?”

“Well we’re not gonna do anything if you keep up with the small talk,” he fondly teases you, pulling you back down so your chest is against his. One of his hands wraps itself in your ponytail and tugs ever so gently. A soft moan escapes your lips, much to his enjoyment. “I like your hair like this.”

In all honesty, he just likes being able to pull on it. Loves your hair no matter how it’s done. 

“You’ll like it even more in a few minutes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw before you embark on your journey south. 

It’s intrinsic, how you work his body. A routine so well learned it’s not even given a second thought anymore. You know how to make him tick. The way he groans when you press pretty kisses down his collarbones and the way his hips roll when you drag the pink of your tongue over his pebbled nipples.

His hand clutches in your hair, keeping you in that position, encouraging you to pay a little extra attention to his nipples for a change. It’s not often that he wants too much focus on his chest, but he’s so turned on that even the slightest touch is making him go feral. 

“Shit,” he hisses when your teeth gently press down around his nipple before you suck it ever so gently. “You’re so fuckin’ good at that.”

He’s never cared for it before. In all honestly, he actively didn’t like it when previous partners did it. There’s something about you that subverts all his desires. You’ve changed him. Altered his understanding of his body. Opened him up to so much more than he’d ever considered before.

Still, you’ve got an agenda, and unfortunately for him, it doesn’t involve his chest. He lets you move down, one hand lazily hanging by your head, the other resting over his chest. His thumb strokes over his pebbled nipple, still wet from your tongue, the pleasure of your touch sending him into a state of ecstasy.

Your body shuffles down, and you both reposition yourselves. No longer are you straddling, but rather you’re between his legs. His thighs are dappled in kisses from you, before your palms rest flat to his inner thighs, spreading him just right.

Alternating between slow kisses and languid drags of your tongue, you teeter ever so close to his thick, solid cock, but never quite touch it. Every time you get close, he whines, cock twitching.

There’s a satisfaction to be found in the way his body responds to your touch. His desperation is painful. Visceral. All he wants is you. 

And because you can’t bear to see him in pain (whether or not because he’s so turned on he might just die), you concede. Give him what he wants. 

Hands on his thighs, you let a little spit pool on your tongue before slowly dragging the tip of your tongue up his shaft.

“Fucking hell,” he curses, writhing from the contact.

You smile, and the lightness of your breath against the wet streak of your tongue makes him shiver. 

The tip of his cock is already leaky with precum, his eagerness to be inside you so pathetically obvious. You avoid it, instead opting to repeat your previous moves. Slowly, you lick up his fat length, tongue flat as can be. You want him to feel as much of you as he can. Want him whining— begging —for your pussy.

If the precum seeping from his tip is a sign of desperation, then heaven only knows what the fuckin’ mess between your legs is. Every stroke of your tongue against him only serves to make you want him just as badly as he wants you.

Your hand reaches to wrap around his shaft, gently stroking his foreskin. Your tongue flicks against the base of his tip, right where you know he’s the most sensitive. 

It’s no surprise when his grip on your ponytail tightens. 

But it is a surprise when he lets go. 

“Hm?” You chirp, looking up, just to make sure he’s all good.

He is—he just isn’t looking at you to confirm it. Instead, his upper body twists ever so slightly as he reaches for his bedside drawer. 

You know it’s got a host of indecent artifacts—his sex toys, condoms, polaroids of you that are for his eyes only—but don’t give it much thought. Figure maybe he’s after a condom to make himself last longer, until you feel him tapping at your shoulder with the side of a small plastic bottle. 

He doesn’t say anything. 

Not immediately, at least. 

What he wants is something he can’t really bring himself to ask for. Hopes that you’ll work it out for yourself. 

As you take the bottle from him, a small chirp echoes from your throat, as if you’re asking for clarification. Again, Jeongguk hopes you’ll work it out. That he won’t have to shamelessly tell you what he desperately wants, cock twitching and leaking precum on his stomach.

The way you pause as you study the bottle, trying to read the text in the dim light of Jeongguk’s room, only adds to his apprehension—until he hears a soft smile exhaling from your lips when you realise exactly what it is: lube .

Never usually required, thanks to the fact Jeongguk makes you resemble a waterfall from just a look in your direction, you know the lube isn’t for you. It’s for him. 

And given the state of conversations around sex over the past week or so, you know what he’s asking for.

After all, he’s the one who wrote that damn airplane in the first place. Told you straight up that he liked ass play way back in the days of the sticky notes (some of which remain on his wall, yet to be conquered).

His drawer only really has his things in it, though. You’ve not got any of your toys at his place. This is a preliminary. A follow-up, almost, to the night spent in the Min’s garden, doing things that probably scared a few dozen nocturnal animals.

“Yeah?” You encourage, lips pressing to his upper thigh. His body adjusts ever so slightly, as if he’s shy. Your hand wraps around his shaft, slowly rolling his foreskin up and down his length in just the right way to get his hands gripping his sheets. 

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” he rasps through the pleasure of having you touch him. “Just want you to do it.”

“Talk about what?” You tease, ‘cause there’s no way he’ll actually enjoy what he’s asking for if he keeps being this uptight about it all. Relaxation is key.

“B,” he groans, this time out of frustration—and so you know you need to be the one to take the lead.

It just doesn’t feel right to take the lead, knowing he’s a little bit tense. You’ve always been so clear and consistent with each other when it comes to consent, and while you know what he wants, you wanna hear him say it first. 

So you leave the bottle of lube next to his thigh and clamber up his body. Legs straddling his waist, you’re pleased that his hands come to stroke your thighs without a second thought. Conversely, your hands softly hold his cheeks, bringing him in for half a dozen pretty little kisses.

“Words are important. I’m not gonna be crude about it,” you tell him, ‘cause it makes a change to the way you joke around with one another. “I just love you, and I want to make you feel good.”

Jeongguks nose nudges back up against yours, as if to plead for more kisses (of which you give him, willingly).

“I love you more,” he argues into your lips, earning a giggle from you that somehow melts all of his worries away. 

“Chess is always an option,” you remind him, but he shakes his head.

“Just… Fucking hell,” he groans as if it’s some sort of laborious task he really can’t be bothered to see through, which couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s just embarrassed. It’s all rather cute. Or at least it is until he continues. “Just finger my ass.” 

He bashfully half whimpers, half laughs, and then adds a pouty, “Please.”

A smile sinks into your lips, and the way he seems almost shy makes your tummy feel all funny. He’s disastrously cute like this. 

“I’ll make you feel so good,” you promise, lips brushing against his ear.

He nods. Knows you will. Lets his hands stroke up and down your back, bringing them around to cup your boobs. Squeezes. Smiles. Can’t resist himself when he questions, “Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” You nod, pulling back to sit upright just for his viewing pleasure. His hands are still holding your tits, gently caressing. He’ll never not love the sight of this. Of you. Of the way you respond to his touch. 

“C’mere,” he grunts, pulling you back down, ‘cause he can’t let you go just yet. Your hands grip onto his bedframe as his lips eagerly latch onto one of your nipples. One of your hands drops to tangle in his smooth hair, a pretty little moan escaping your lips.

He takes it as a sign he’s doing something right. Switches up his sucking motion to flick his tongue against your hardened bud. Get you moaning all over again, the position of your legs spread over his waist, letting him know just how pleased you are to have him like this.

And while Jeongguk might have been asking you for favours, all he can think about is returning them.

Tapping on your ass, he’s a little breathless as he lets go of his latch on your nipple, and husks, “Up, baby. On my face. You before me.”

“Hm?” you languidly hum—not because you don’t know what he means, but because it goes against what he was asking for just minutes earlier.

Still, Jeongguk doesn’t care to explain his thought process (mainly because he doesn’t have one (he just likes having you in his mouth in any and all capacities)). Instead, he just continues tapping your ass until you get the message.

“You’re so impatient,” you lightly scold him while you do as he requests, but barely have time to position yourself before his arms are hooking over your legs, pulling your pussy to his mouth. “Oh fuck.”

He wastes no time suctioning his lips around your clit. He doesn’t care to be quiet about it. Eats you like it’s his last fuckin’ supper. Laps up against you. 

It’s not just his tongue, though. It’s like he wants his whole fuckin’ face in your cunt. His nose rubs up against your clit, while his tongue greedily licks your entrance. There’s no such thing as perfect, but the way he’s proportioned is as close as it gets, you think. Your hips grind, a hand tangled in his hair, the way you both move entirely primal. 

Hands squeezing at your ass, he encourages your movements. Wants you all over his face. Loves nothing more than being coated in you. 

His tongue begins to focus now, though. He positions himself just right. Flicks against your clit at such a speed it’s hard to comprehend—and then he’s moaning. Vibrating against you. Delivering a sensation that could never be replicated.

“I’m close,” you rasp. Whine. Moan. “Don’t wanna cum. Not yet.”

And while he wants you to, Jeongguk knows why. Knows you wanna fuck him. Knows you wanna cum around his cock instead of on his face. Multiple orgasms have never been an issue, but it is late. You do need a somewhat early night. 

He nods, easing up his tongue, slowly sucking on your clit. The movements of his head as he sucks only serve to make you feel like you might cum regardless, so you shakily (and regretfully) pull away. 

When you reposition yourself, he pulls you against his lips for the messiest, most obscene kiss possible. It’s all tongue, and little else. The taste of your cunt. The sweetness of his whines. The filth of how much he loves sinning with you. 

There's nobody else he could be like this with. Only you. Only ever you.

Straddled over his hips, you grind gently, his thick cock perfectly snug between your lips. Wet and swollen, they feel like silk against him. Jeongguk knows, given the chance, that he’d be able to cum like this. Easy.

That’s not what he wants, though, so you retrace your steps. Sink back down. Don’t fuck around this time. Instead, you take him in your mouth without hesitation. Return the favour he’s just bestowed upon you.

Head bobbing up and down his fat length, your hand wraps around the base of his cock. Pulling back, you spit against him, using your hand to spread it, gaining momentum. Loose with your grip, you focus on the tip of his sensitive cock, jerking him until he’s whining. Whimpering.

And then, you let your tongue stroke against his balls. 

“Oh, fuck,” he whines, his hips pulsing beneath you.

It’s all the approval you need for your hand to get a little tighter, and for your lips to take one of his balls in your mouth. It’s a sensation Jeongguk fuckin’ loves, if done right—and of course, you know how to do it perfectly for him. 

You take his ecstasy as a chance to move things along. Know he’s feeling good. Know he wants more. 

Pulling back, you sit on your heels. Neither of you speak, but Jeongguk does slowly nod when he sees you reaching for the bottle of lube next to his body. Trepidation hangs in the air. This territory is uncharted, and it’s been a little while since you last ventured so far south—but you’ve got a roadmap. Know the way. Even if you didn’t, you like to think intuition would guide you, regardless.

Warming it a little bit in your hands, you’re slow. Cautious. Careful, knowing that he’s probably feeling a little more vulnerable than usual.

Hands slick with the gel, you wrap a palm around his shaft. Ease him into the feeling. It’s not like it’s a new sensation, but the pair of you rarely ever use lube. You’re always wet enough. He nods. Lets his eyes close as your other hand gently massages against his balls.

A little further south, you venture. He’s not a stranger to your tongue against his taint, but your fingers are less frequent. He's not as well acquainted with the sensation, but he likes it. Legs spreading a little further, Jeongguk makes himself available for you. 

Smiling at just how cute he looks, you’re a curious mix of enamoured and outrageously turned on. Just like nobody could ever make him feel the way you do, nobody could ever make you feel the way he does. 

“You’re so hot,” you tell him, gently wanking his cock as two of your fingers stroke up and down his taint. You apply a little more pressure. Replace his bashful smile with a wanting gasp.

Slick with lube, you let your middle finger go lower. Slowly, you press against his rim. Watch him closely as his brows furrow. There’s that look of desperation once more, and the assurance that yes, he wants this. Wants you. 

You count in your head. 1, 2, 3… make sure he doesn’t stop moving his hips. If anything, he’s edging himself down. Encouraging you to apply more pressure. 

And so you do. Slowly, eyes trained on his pretty, pathetic face, you push your middle finger against his tight hole, until the muscle eases.

“Fuck,” he whimpers, the penetration of a single finger overwhelmingly pleasurable for him. His eyes flicker open, landing on yours as your finger begins to curl ever so gently. Just a little. Just enough.

Chest heaving, Jeongguk looks beautiful in a way that’s hard to put into words—and when you slowly pull out, he looks ruined in a way that’s also hard to comprehend.

His lips hang slack, chest heaving as his eyes burn into you like the heat of a thousand stars. Face dewy with sweat, hair sticks to his forehead, the storminess of his gaze quickly triggers a whirlpool within your stomach. There’s a neediness to him as he swallows back a breath, lips coming together so that he can lick them, before his pout forms that pretty little o-shape once more.

Breathless as he speaks, Jeongguk rasps, “Again.”

The corner of your lips twitch into a smirk. “Yeah, babe?”

“Yeah,” he pathetically nods, fucked out but somehow still painfully desperate for more. Of course he is, though. It’s you. No one gets him like this. No one ever will. His brows furrow together, his tongue flicking against the silver hoops in the corner of his mouth, as his eyes drop to his pathetically weeping cock. He’s so hard. So keen. So needy—and what he needs right now is you. “Please, B. More.”

You tease against his entrance, applying just enough pressure to make him gasp. It’s like a reward, to hear him like this. As if you’ve done something truly remarkable.

Your other hand wraps around the base of his cock, adding to the electricity surging through him. He reaches down. Wraps his hand around yours. Encourages you. Wants more. Needs more. And so you give him more.

Finger pushing into his tight entrance, you’re slow. Painfully so, though you aren’t causing any actual pain. Jeongguk just wants you to hit that spot. 

“Yeah?” You check in.

Breathless, nodding his head even though his eyes are closed, he says, “Yeah.”

Your finger curls. Strokes. Searches. Finds.

And Jeongguk moans in a way you don’t think you’ve ever heard before. It’s a whimper, almost. A plea. Or rather, a confession, maybe.

Your hands work in tandem, your finger stroking right against the spot that makes him whine, while your other hand strokes him in tempo. He’s stimulated in a way he isn’t used to. In a way he never really thought was possible. 

There’s a vulnerability that comes with penetration. Far easier to fuck someone than it is to get fucked.

When he looks down towards you, it's like looking through a telescope; galaxies in his big brown eyes. Wide and wanting, he'll give you all the stars in his eyes, no questions asked, no fee charged.

It’s when your head dips to press wet kisses against his taint that his whines really begin to get desperate. Has always loved your mouth. Loves it when it does things it shouldn’t. 

A girl like you shouldn’t have your nose pressed to a ballsack or her tongue mere millimetres away from an asshole, but the way you focus on delivering him pleasure would suggest otherwise. You’re made for this. Made for him. 

It’s when you whine, though, obsessed with his body's response to you, that he really begins to get twitchy. His hips pulse ever so gently, encouraging the movements of both hands.

“Yeah?” you breathlessly whisper, smirking at how a man so strong is just absolute putty in your hands. “You fucking yourself with my hands, huh?”

Jeongguk is beyond the point of pride. Has no need for dignity. Just wants to feel good.

“Yeah,” he admits between desperate breaths. “Gonna make me cum so fuckin’ hard.” 

Everything is moving in the same chaotic rhythm: his chest, his beating heart, his pulsing hips. Jeongguk’s cock is twitching, the sensation of you massaging his prostate taking him closer and closer to the point of release. He isn’t gonna last, and you don't want him to. 

Your hand grips even tighter around the base of his cock, the stimulation impossible to fight against. There’s only so much he can take.

“B,” he whines. “Oh, fuck.”

“Cum for me,” you tell him, not even caring for your lost orgasm from earlier. He can make it up to you later. You keep the pace of your finger consistent, but wank him off faster. He whimpers and he writhes, but he doesn’t ease up. “C’mon, baby. Show me how good I make you feel, yeah?”

If there’s one thing that drives him wild, it’s when you call him sweet little names. 

“Please, baby,” you beg, because you know just the right buttons to press. His hands grip his bed sheets, eyes struggling to stay open. He’s seconds away from death, or so it feels. A little death, at least. His legs begin to twitch. The onslaught of what is about to happen is unmistakable. “That’s it, baby,” you coo. “Show me how good it feels.”

“B,” he tries to speak, but can’t. All he can do it succumb to the pleasure. Whine. Mewl. Moan.

And then it’s happening; the evidence of how fucking good you are for him painting his abdomen. His cock is pathetic as it spurts ropes of thick, hot cum onto his belly. White and wet, it’s never-ending. He cums and he cums; gasps and gasps. 

It’s not until he begins to twitch, chest heaving, cock spent, that you withdraw from him. Immediately, you gently begin to trail your tongue across his hard abs, cleaning up the evidence of how much he likes having you in his ass. You're keeping his secrets. Promising you'll never tell a soul.

“Shit,” he curses, all breathless and fucked out, one arm over his chest, while his other hand reaches down to stroke the side of your head. “Fuck.”

Giggling now, you clamber up to join him, and Jeongguk cares not for the fact your cum is still on your tongue. In fact, he deliberately stokes his against yours, swapping the evidence of his pleasure between you both. Moaning into your lips, he’s spent in a way he never has been before. 

“God, I love you,” he whines into your mouth. Gets needy all over again. “You know that, huh? You know how much I love you?”

With a bashful nod, you find yourself giggling. “You know I know.”

“Good,” he nods, pulling away to face the ceiling, eyes closed, trying to get a little breath back. You snuggle into him, all rather sweetly considering what you’ve just done. “‘Cause I do. And I mean it. You’re literally, like, the love of my life.”

“Who knew all it would take was a little ass play to get your saying such soppy shit,” you tease him, pressing a kiss against his chest. “Should have done this months ago.”

He laughs now, too. “Just cause I didn’t say it back then doesn’t mean I didn’t think it.”

The pair of you descend into a comfortable warmth, giggling and joking, until you get up to wash yourself up a little. Jeongguk protests. Says he needs to return the favour—but ultimately agrees to wait until the morning. 

“Need to sleep at some point, babe,” you tell him as you both meander to the bathroom. Jeongguk makes a mental note to get a place with an en-suite when he moves out. In a pair of boxers, he watches you fondly as you wash your hands in the bathroom sink, all love drunk and bleary-eyed.

You’re in one of his shirts, and it drapes over your body in a way that it would never drape over him. He likes it better on you. In fact, he likes most things in his life better with the addition of you.  Thinks life would be impossible, if he were ever to lose you. 

“I think I’d die, yanno,” he mindlessly says, watching you plait your hair to stop it from tangling in the night. “If we ever broke up or weren’t together, I’d think I’d just die.”

You laugh, because it’s absurd. Both the concept of dying of a broken heart, and the idea that you would ever break up. 

“Don’t speak it into existence, then,” you tease. “It’s a full moon, Gguk. Can’t be manifesting things like that on a night like this.”

“I’m not,” he assures you, because if anything, he’s trying to do the opposite. Not once does he think to tell you that the full moon has nothing to do with it, or some other belittling remark about believing in the stars, like you know most guys would. Why would he though? A star is the closest thing he knows to religion, and he’s looking at it right now.

“Well, good,” you hum, turning to face him, hair now secure. “Let's just agree to not break up, and that way you won’t die.”

“Sounds good,” he sleepily smiles, tugging on your hand, guiding you back to his bedroom. 

It’s a ridiculous conversation for a ridiculous concept. 

Or at least, in the warmth of lust-drunk night, it is.

In the cold light of day, stark and sterile, everything has the potential to change. 

After all, bad decisions are your forte, are they not?

[campingwiththecharmings]

Some Like it Hot (2)

AN: HIIIII. Right. So. Part one is here. This...diverted quite a bit from what I had originally intended but, I can't say that I'm too mad about it. 🤭 This has very little to no plot, negl.

(Un-beta’d)

Poe is your muse and you can't help but see the beauty in everything he does.

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 1,481 Pairing: Firefighter!Poe Dameron x Photographer!F!Reader Warnings: PWP, smuffy af, p in v, idiots in love, morning sex, please let me know if i missed anything. AO3

——————

You wake gently, the sunlight streaming through the thin curtains, filling the room with its glow. You smile, eyes fluttering as you stretch, allowing yourself to sink into the mattress a little. The sheets rustle beside you as Poe shifts, drawing your gaze. You take a moment to study him, splayed on his belly, your eyes tracing the soft curve of his lips, the sharp cut of his jaw, smooth brow, and stubbled cheeks. He’s a work of art, really. Just…stunning. Every inch of him is perfect, as if he’d been chiseled from a block of marble by the gods themselves. And if that wasn’t enough, he also had a heart of gold. Never in your life have you met someone so kind and caring, so ready and willing to help others. 

You’d started dating almost immediately after your encounter at your studio (quite literally that same evening), and now here you are, months later waking up with him in your bed. Maybe it’s strange but you love watching him sleep, love to watch the light from the windows play over his bare skin, love to study the way his short curls fall across his forehead. The artist in you longs to capture this moment, and you can’t help but give in. Silently, you reach over to the bedside table and grab your phone, quickly swiping the camera app open and pointing it at him. You take a few moments to get the angle just right, then click the shutter button. 

He knows, of course, knows your gallery is full of photos of him (and occasionally, him and you). That’s not to say that he really gets it though, how inspired you are by him. As far as he’s concerned, he’s just a regular guy. He’s supportive though, indulging your fascination.

Unable to help yourself, you roll toward him, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips. He stirs almost immediately, his full lashes fluttering as he opens his warm, brown eyes. You smile at him, pushing your fingers through his mussed curls.

“Morning,” you greet, your voice soft as you rouse him from sleep.

He returns your smile, eyelids heavy as he shifts and rolls onto his side to face you.

“Morning,” he says, his voice rough with sleep. 

His eyes drop to the phone still in your hand and his lips quirk in amusement. “Taking creeper shots of me again?”

You chuckle at his teasing, your cheeks warming. “Guilty.”

He grunts, reaching over and plucking the device from your grasp. “My turn.”

“No, stop,” you laugh, covering your face with your hands. “I haven’t even washed my face yet, come on.”

He tsks, grabbing your hands and playfully pushing them away. “You got me, only fair that I get you.”

You groan theatrically, pouting at him as he sits up and quickly your phone into position. “Yeah but, I’m not you.”

He snorts, the click of your shutter reaching your ears. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Suddenly, you lunge, kicking the blankets away to free your legs and arms. He chuckles, moving the phone out of your reach. 

“Not all of us are as photogenic as you, Poe, just—give it back.”

He rolls onto his back laughing, your phone still clutched in his hand. “A photographer who doesn’t like getting their picture taken. Aren’t you a cliche?”

You growl, crawling over and up his torso, arm outstretched as you reach again for your phone.  “Shut up.”

His laughter becomes muffled as your chest presses against his face, the vibration sending a tiny shiver down your spine. You rise up slightly on your knees, the hand not reaching for your phone braced on his muscled shoulder. His free hand comes to rest on your lower back, steadying you as you reach. 

When you finally manage to take your phone back, he doesn't put up much of a fight, instead taking the opportunity to pull you even closer with his other hand. He nuzzles your breasts through your t-shirt, your breath hitching when his nose bumps against your nipple.

“You had ulterior motives, I see,” you breathe, the fingers of your free hand tangling in his hair as his hands slip down and underneath your shirt.

He chuckles, moving his face back from your chest as he pulls your shirt up and over your head. His hands slide up to your shoulders once you’re bared to him, his eyes meeting yours as he leans in to take your nipple in his mouth. Your lips part in a gasp, your fingers tightening in his curls, and he groans at the slight sting of his scalp. The vibration makes your hips jolt against him, your body instinctively seeking friction as desire quickly wells inside you.

You sigh his name as he releases your nipple, mouthing his way over to your other breast to lavish the same attention. 

“So beautiful,” he mumbles, flicking the tip of his tongue against the pebbled flesh before sucking it into the molten heat of his mouth.

Your head falls back with a moan, your phone slipping from between your fingers and landing on the plush comforter of your bed. Poe’s hands slide down to your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he encourages you to keep grinding against him. You can feel the hardness of his cock even through the thick fabric of his pajama pants, your need for him growing. He groans as you move, pulling back from your chest, the absence of his mouth dragging your gaze back to his. You swallow hard, the combination of lust and awe in his eyes making goosebumps rise on your skin.

He pulls your mouth back to his then, licking into it languidly, as if he has all the time in the world. You melt into him, your bare chests pressing together as you wind your arms around his neck. You let yourself get lost in his kiss, in the soft, wet slide of his lips as they brush against yours. It feels like you’re drowning, drowning in a sea of bliss, a sea where Poe is your only lifeline.

Poe slips his fingers beneath the edge of your panties, his thumb briefly circling your clit as he slips the others lower. He works you open gently, your cries of pleasure muffled by his lips and tongue. He brings you to your peak quickly, drawing out your pleasure with each pump and flick of his fingers.

You share a moan when you finally sink down onto his length, your slick heat welcoming him, engulfing him. He pulls your mouth back to his as you begin to ride him, your body rising and falling shallowly at first. His hand on your hip helps to steady you as you gradually increase your pace, your hands braced on his shoulders. 

“Poe,” you whine, throwing your head back as you chase the pleasure racing through you. “Feels so good—fuck, so good.”

He groans as he watches you, his eyes almost black with desire. “You feel like a dream, sweetheart. So beautiful like this.”

A shiver races through you at his words, at his attention. He’s always like this, so present, making you feel so desired, like there’s no one else he’s ever wanted so badly as you. He pulls you close, pressing his forehead against yours as you race toward your release, groaning as you move and clench around him. You moan when his thumb finds your clit, his touch bringing you even closer to the edge.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he breathes, pushing his hips up from the bed every time you sink down onto him again. “Take what you need.”

A few more thrusts and you’re there, body going taught, mouth slack, as you sail over the edge. His moan is broken as you fall apart around him, your body squeezing him, trying to take him with you. He spills himself deep inside you with a groan moments later, his hips stuttering with the force of his release. 

You stay like that for a while, just wrapped around each other, his softening cock still sheathed inside you.  It’s comforting, having him this close, feeling this connected to him. Poe strokes your back soothingly, leaning in to press a soft kiss against the corner of your mouth. You smile, winding your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning across your skin as he melts into you.

“You working today?” you ask, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

He makes a noise, then shakes his head. “Nope. I’m all yours today, baby.”

You chuckle, eyelashes fluttering as he presses a hot kiss against the side of your neck. “Mmm, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

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[sillyvampireboi]

Why are you tormenting my kitchen??

~AO3~

Summary: Armand is fascinated by blenders. Who knew that there were many different types with different functions? Do they only blend liquid or flesh too? He must experiment.. to Daniel’s demise.

Contents: pov Armand, romantic, fluff, attempt at humour, armandaniel, Armand being Armand, blood, gore, not beta read, description of cutting someone up ^^’ 

a/n: I feel like Armand is like a little child, regarding discovering new technologies and finding joy in trying them out. | I wrote it totally self-indulgently. I have that urge in me to see Armand destroy Daniel’s (blender at first) kitchen 👁️v👁️

tagging: @okaytosave

~ English is my second language ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So Daniel, you grew up and lived in this era, which one is the best?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know?” 

“Well, I suppose you used these machines before.” 

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I compared all brands in the world. “ — chuckled my fascinating boy. — “But buy that one. It’s the most expensive.” 

We were standing in the Aisle of Blenders in Media Markt. Recently, I became spellbinded by this store. It showcasted the best and most popular technology on the market during those years. My love laughed at me many times, when waking at night and not finding me at our home, discovered me studying iPads in that store for hours to no end. How fastly changeable technology became! It felt like there were new updates to my iPad every month, new features were added which became more colourful, more easy to use and were more apps to choose from. Sims and Minecraft became my favorites to spend my time on. I created our own avatars, mine and Daniel’s, in Sims where we lived happily as a married couple. I even found a kitten, when I told Daniel about it, he simply asked me to make him a successful writer and ‘WooHoo’ him every night. He didn’t tell me what that meant. I need to check its meaning in the near future. 

However, back to me and Daniel looking at blenders: When I got used to the innovations phones and tablets offered, I found my new interest stirred in kitchen items. I have to admit, I abandoned my interest in kitchen utensils. They remained more or less similar for hundreds upon hundreds of years, so I let my curiosity wander to other directions. Then sweet Daniel stepped into the timeless night of my life, introducing me to feelings I’ve been absent from, besides human contraptions I didn’t pay attention to. Such innovation was this engaging appliance called Blender. 

As far as I understand, it can mix liquids and soft objects such as fruits and vegetables together. Mortals use these devices to create ‘smoothes’ and other drinks Daniel told me about. Sadly, they can’t break bones or other hard surfaces into tiny pieces. Believe me I tried, that was the reason me and Daniel were shopping for a new one.

“Are you still angry at me, love?” — I temporarily turned from the shelf to look at Daniel. He sighed deep, feeling frustration omitting from him rather than anger. 

“No. But I’m getting a little vexed since you keep tormenting my kitchen.”

“I’m only experimenting my beloved.” 

“Yeah, right” — The innocent voice I used had a nearly immediate effect on him. His eyes softened, and the aurora around him became a lovely pink coloured mess.  — “Just buy more, so we don’t have to come here every night, hm?” 

“Everything for you dear!” 

“Sure, don’t have to be in my ass. Just choose 3 and let us go already.” 

The night was hot and breathless, attacking our senses constantly with the noise of the beeping city. The streets were nearly as light as during the day in this new century, illuminated by hundreds of lamps, advertisements and closed shop windows. 

As I was walking beside Daniel, carrying my “newly doomed Blenders” - as he tells me - in their boxes, I thought back on the previous night. 

I was in the kitchen, while my beloved was still in our bedchamber. The sun just started leisurely sinking lower and lower on the darkening sky, painting it with pink and purple and then blue at last. While the shadows began climbing along the lengthy sides of buildings, I set up the kitchen. 

My love already had a Blender in his home, which I borrowed for my investigation. I prepared a victim for the night: a young, muscular boy. Barely scraping the threshold of twenty, full of life and strength, his young face shining with his youthful years I’ll be draining out of him. 

“Rest.” 

My voice covered him gently from his curly head, till his long legs. He truly was a beautiful boy, one I’ve seen centuries ago in the palace of my Master. His muscles and mind relaxed, regardless of his integral struggle for life, while I opened up his wrist and let his warm blood fill several cups, I organised in the kitchen. I let his blood flow until his heart began to slow, losing his hopeless battle against his fate, until it fully stopped. 

First, I poured one cup of his blood into the Blender, and turned on the machine. It began to buzz and whirl. It moved the blood around in circles, creating light bubbles in contrast to the shadowless. 

It passed the first test. After emptying its container I added another cup of blood into it, then turned back to the body of the boy. With a knife in my hand, I let my gaze travel over his lifeless shell. His pink flesh lost colour and turned to gray, and his eyes which were filled with fearful tears a few minutes ago, now stared blankly at the ceiling. I let him free of his thin shirt, and opened up his delicate skin. 

I put slim pieces of his muscles in the blood at first, then steadily increased the amount. The Blender succeeded these challenges, cutting the meat into smaller and smaller parts, until it became a bloody meat ‘smoothie’. I poured it into a new cup and started again. 

At this time, I used his heart, lungs and a part of his brain in one session, mixing it with more blood. The machine seemingly struggled quite a bit, but mixed them nonetheless. It wasn’t as perfect as the previous one, but still liquid-y. 

I continued experimenting with his other organs, the Blender struggling more and more, until it reached its breaking point. 

It was bones that broke this interesting innovation.

I began with his blood again, and continued with adding tiny parts from his limb bones - which I smashed with my hands -, until I carried on with bigger bones: fingers, toes, and collar bones. However, as I added a forearm, it couldn’t pierce through the stone-hard surface of the white parts and its scales stopped while the motor still ran. I watched with wild wonder, while the buzzing got pregnant with panic, until it stopped with a sudden bang. The remains of the meat, blood and bones flew up in the air, and blanketed me and the kitchen furniture with a nasty, sloppy sound. 

Oh no - I thought - I broke Daniel’s Blender, there is still time to buy him a new one. He isn’t using it anymore, so he won’t notice and then I clean— 

“What the fuck has happened here?” — My beloved was standing at the door of our bedroom, arms crossed in front of his chest, sleep still heavy in his eyes. His gaze naturally traveled to me first, next on the body of the cut up form of my victim, until at last, traveled over the rain of dark red, thick wetness on the walls and ceiling. 

“Daniel, I can expl—“

“What is this? Why are you tormenting my kitchen?!” 

“I merely wanted to experiment dear. You showed me a lot about new technologies and the one that interested me the most was this apparatus called Blender! It moves and has knife-like edges inside and mixes substances! My beloved, you must understand I had to try! And what fascinating discoveries I made.” 

Daniel stood there completely spellbounded, staring at me in the grotesque scene I created. For a long time he said nothing, until I saw the slight smile in the light of his eyes, which meant he wasn’t angry at all even though he tried to appear to be. A deep sigh which he didn’t need anymore, escaped his lungs while he roamed his gaze over me and our kitchen again. 

“Alright, this is what we are going to do. First you clean this whole mess and then YOU buy a new blender. And I’m going to ask for a fucking expensive one, you can be sure of that.” 

I couldn’t help, but giggle at his mocked fury, that imitation of frustration he forced on his lovely face. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moment we arrived home, I organised our new Blenders in the cabinets, taking out plates and glasses, just to put them back and find a new place for them. Daniel was enjoying my structuring skills with an open delight, from the dining table. 

After I was done, I walked to him, sly as a cat, sitting on his lap and putting my arms around his neck.

“What?” 

“Will you show me how to order from Amazon?” 

“Why? “ — he eyed me with suspicion. 

“I want to order a robotic eater!” 

“Robotic eater? You mean a robot vacuum?” 

“Yes! Please Daniel, I have to see if it really eats everything and moves around furniture.” 

“God. What did I sign up for?” 

My soft laugh disguised us from the outside world, leaving us in a light pink bubble. 

[fairyrcts]

BIRTHDAY SEX , C.S.

by fairyrcts warnings - smut , intended lowercase , 2nd person , use of y/n , cursing , underage drinking , pet names , unprotected sex (don't do that), p in v , oral (f & m recieving) rough sex , hair pulling , gagging , virginity loss , maybe more ¿

an - bro ik its virginity loss, but i will not be writing no cherry popping crap

taglist - @pvssychicken , @gothiccvnt6996 , @emely9274 (header by @issysh3ll )

the party slowly started to die down due to how long it's been going on. after 3-4 hours of partying, dancing, and drinking, most everyone had left the newly 18 year old's birthday.

you were left with your four best friends playing never have i ever on your couch, everyone's hands up and fingers down while they went in a circle asking questions.

"never have i ever lost my virginity?" nathan asked, his words slightly slurred.

chris's finger went down. nate's finger went down. everyone else's was up.

"y/n, you're a virgin?" chris's eyes wandered you. your legs were on his lap, just far enough away so you couldn't feel his erection.

christopher's always had some sort of interest in you. he didn't really know himself what it was, but he knew he couldn't get you outta his head.

"yeah? is that so surprising?" you chuckled.

to him, yeah, it was. of course nick hadn't, matt, sure, but you?

not because he thought you were someone who'd just give it up easily, but because you were by far the most attractive person he'd ever seen. to think that no man has ever taken that kind of interest in you was diabolical.

"no, no, that's not what i meant."

you shifted your legs up his thighs more causing chris's eyes to widen and his dick to grow harder by the second.

"hmm, okay, never have i ever made out with someone in the circle?"

nick's question revealed another thing about you he hadn't known. just after her finger went down, matt's went down too.

matt?

"uhm, hello? explain?"

matt began talking about what had happened.

"in eighth grade we were at that one guy's party and we were playing seven minutes in heaven and we made out in his coat closet."

the memory came back to you , causing her to laugh.

"oh my gosh, we were so inexperienced. that was funny."

the game and conversations went on for another half hour, but everyone began getting tired.

"we should probably get going. i shouldn't be driving when i'm tired and if we stay longer, i'll pass out." you could hear the exhaustion in matt's voice.

chris didn't wanna leave. not yet at least. there was so much more that they could do.

"y'know, or, if it isn't a hassle.. we could just stay here?" christopher asked with a cheeky grin.

you weren't opposed to chris's idea. "yeah, c'mon, stay the night. nate, you can get the couch, matt and nick will have the extra bedroom down here and chris.. you can sleep up in my room." you spoke softly, moving your legs off of his and sat up.

matt honestly didn't care, as long as he got sleep, he was fine. since matt was their driver and if he chose to stay here, that was their only option.

since everyone agreed, they made their way to designated sleeping area's, nate on the couch, matt and nick in the guest room and chris in your bed.

thoughts began roaming his mind as he watched your hips sway in front of him while you walked up the stairs. seeing you in the same bed as him, sleeping with him. he could only imagine as what was to happen.

you opened the door to your room, nothing chris hasn't seen before.

"uhm, i don't think i have anything for you to change into. i'm sorry." your voice was tired and gentle as you spoke.

"it's alright." he smiled which was reciprocated back.

"put on something for us to watch, i'm gonna change." chris nodded as you went into your closet.

he scrolled through the apps on your tv, landing on netflix. he went through the rows of genres, eventually choosing the amazing spiderman.

you walked out in an over-sized shirt and small shorts. chris's eyes made his way up and down your body, setting on your tits.

fuck.

you weren't wearing a bra. your boobs were practically on display.

not that he was complaining.

you made your way under the covers next to him, not noticing his stare.

"oh fun, i love spiderman." you laid back on the bed and got comfortable. chris didn't wanna feel awkward so he did the same as he pressed play.

your head sat on his shoulder, whispering little things in his ear every few minutes.

not far into the movie, chris began getting hot. he was wearing sweatpants and a long sleeve, not his ideal sleeping outfit.

"i'm sorry, do ya mind if i take my sweats off? i'm burning up."

mind? did you mind? hell, you wished he'd take everything off, but that's something better kept to yourself.

"no, not at all. that's fine." you gave him a small smile while he stood up and pulled his pants off.

fuck.

you peeked out the corner of her eyes, seeing chris's fully imprinted cock against his boxers. there was no way he wasn't hard.

he got back in bed and you acted as if his dick wasn't practically on display.

not that she was complaining.

the pair continued watching the movie but you started getting fidgety. you moved a leg instinctively, your thigh in between chris's.

chris bit down on his bottom lip to keep a gasp from leaving his mouth. fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck was basically the only thought in his head.

"chris-" he knew what you were about to say. he could feel himself get hard against her leg.

"-are you, uh."

your leg moved from off of him slowly, but was immediately brought back up by chris's hand.

you looked up towards him, his gaze on your lips.

there was nothing on your mind other than how bad you wanted him to kiss her. and somehow, your mind was read. chris's lips met yours and his hand going to your lower back.

your arm slid around his neck and got your fingers tangled in his hair. chris bit her bottom lip, asking for entrance.

once granted, everything became messy. small moans coming from both parties, incoherent sentences in between breaths.

your lips moved down to his jaw, sucking and forming hickeys all down his neck.

"just like that, baby." he whispered quietly. his hands moved up and to your chest, running his hand along your now hard nipple.

you moved upright on top of him, his cock pocking your ass. you took his shirt off in a singular motion.

she began marking up his chest while he played with the hem of her shirt.

"i- fuck. take it off." his voice wasn't demanding but you knew to do what you were told.

you dragged the shirt over your arms and tossed it to the floor. chris wasted no time going to your tits. he sucked on them, mumbling compliments against your boobs.

your moans filled the room causing chris' mind to go crazy. if that's how you sounded when he was just on you tits, what more could he get from you?

his mouth made it's way back to yours but his hands stayed on your hips, moving them back and forth on his dick.

all he could think about was the feeling of you grinding and how'd fucking good it'd feel without either of them being clothed.

"how bad do you want me?" his voice lowly spoke in your ear. it was clear to hear the lust in his tone.

"really badly." you said just above a whisper.

he laid you down on you back and put a finger under the hemline of your shorts, only feeling one.

"you haven't got panties on?"

you shook your head no and with that there was no turning back.

"can i take em' off?" chris's words were impatient, but your nods were even more impatient.

not wanting to wait any longer, he tugged them down, reaching your ankles. he groaned at the sight of your cunt, wet due to him.

he crawled further on the bed and positioned himself in between your legs, his hands resting on your thighs.

his breath against your pussy made her loose you mind more. little did you know, you were about to be senseless.

without hesitation, his tongue ran up and down your folds, making your back arch and a moan to leave your lips.

chris sucked on your clit while two of his digits went inside you. he pumped his fingers in and out of your soaked cunt.

his fingers curled, hitting your g-spot. you moaned loudly with shock at the new feeling. she threw her head back on the headboard while you moved your hips along with his hand.

a pit formed in your stomach as your orgasm was close.

"ch-chris, i- fuck, i think." you hadn't ever felt an organism this good.

"you're so close. cum for me, it's alright, ma." his voice just pushed you over the edge and your moans got louder. the balloon in your stomach popped as your juices coaxed his hand.

he brought his fingers up to his mouth and sucked them off. "fuck, ma, you taste so good."

you panted, breathless.

"you okay?" he asked to which you nodded.

"good, cuz i need more. please, baby." his voice was pleading and you had no other choice other than to say yes. you wanted to return the favor.

you scooted off the bed and onto her knees. "can i?" you looked up at him with begging eyes.

"mhm, mhm, yeah, mama." you slowly slid his boxers down to the floor, his cock covered in pre-cum.

your mouth slid around his dick, your tongue swirling on his tip. chris tried to speak, but everything was a blur.

you fit his whole length in your mouth, gagging against him. the vibrations only made him loose his mind more.

while your mouth focused on sucking, you brought your hand up to stroke the rest of his dick that couldn't fit in your mouth.

"i- fuck, y/n." he groaned. his hand went to your hair, grasping it in his hands and slightly guiding your head back and forth. his movement became more harsh and by now tears were running down your cheeks.

"i'm gonna cum, shit, i- ma. fuck, i can't." his words were cut off by his own moaning as he came in your mouth.

"swallow." you obeyed his orders before chris wiped a small bit off your lip.

"good girl." you chuckled and stood up, your knees almost buckling under you.

"i thought you said you were a virgin?" his brows furrowed.

"i am. but i didn't say i've never given head before." a smirk made it's way onto your lips.

"then how about we change that?" his mouth moved to your neck and began leaving hickeys as he gently laid you back down on the bed. he scooted his dick in front of your folds.

"i'll start slow, mkay?"

"yes please." you smiled softly. sure, you were nervous, but it was with chris and you wouldn't have it any other way.

he put his cock inside you slowly, winces coming from your lips.

"just a bit more, baby. you're doing incredible. you can take it."

his dick was now fully in you as he slowly moved it in and out. the pleasure overweighed the pain and you were now comfortable with his size.

"can i go faster?" you nodded and he picked up speed. he put a hand on her tummy, feeling his bulge under his hand.

"chris, i- fuck. keep going." your words were almost not understandable, you were on cloud 9. the pure ecstasy that you were feeling was unbelievable.

chris's pace kept gradually going faster while their moans were the only thing being heard.

your hand gripped the headboard to stabilize you as his dick pumping into you caused your whole body to move. your tits bounced up and down before chris's hand made it's way to them.

chris stuck two fingers in your mouth, the rest of his hand holding your chin in place. his other hand went down and began rubbing your clit at a vigorous speed.

"ch-chris, fuck." your moans were music to his ears. your words only made him go faster.

"flip over." he ordered while sliding his dick out. you moved on all 4's, your ass sticking up.

chris slipped his cock back in and took a handfull of your hair, pulling it with every pump. his other hand gripped your ass.

"oh my fucking god. you feel fucking amazing. mm, keep taking it, atta girl."

you were now a mess. sweat stuck to your face as your hair was being pulled back. your tits swung and your jaw was slack as they were both reaching their second orgasm.

"chris, i c-can't anymore. fuck, i'm g-gonna cum." your head turned to the side to speak to him.

"mm mm, not yet, baby. you can keep going.

you kept taking it, wanting to please chris. but the feeling of his cock buried inside of you, the faint sound of skin slapping, everything was just getting too much.

without warning, chris pulled out. leaving you confused.

"if you're gonna cum, i gotta see your face. come ride, sweetheart." he took this time to sit and regain his breath while you sat and positioned yourself on top on his dick.

chris's hands moved to your hips and guided you up and down on his cock. your face contorted at the feeling of him consistently hitting her g-spot.

he moved his face to your tits as they bounced in his face, sucking on your chest. this only added to the amount of unbearable pleasure.

"please, chris. i- fuck. pleasepleaseplease let me cum. mm, please."

chris nodded his head, you cumming the second you were given permission. your jaw went slack and chris slid out, releasing his load on your tummy.

"holy fuck. alright.." he panted and let out a humorless chuckle as you exhaustedly put your forehead on his shoulder.

"let's get you cleaned up, mama." you tried standing, but it was near impossible.

chris helped her up and carried you to the bathroom. you sat on the edge of the bath while he started the water. "you're incredible, y'know that?"

the next morning, chris and you walked down the stairs, chris supporting you so you didn't fall.

downstairs, everyone was awake and staring at them.

"so... how'd you sleep?" nate said emotionless while you stumbled and sat next to him on the couch.

"uhm, i slept okay." you side-eyed him while chris went into the kitchen where nick and matt were.

"yeah, i didn't."

"oh, i'm sorry. was the couch too uncomfy?" your face was concerned but then became one of realization.

"nope, it was just fine. but all i could hear was your moaning and chris's groaning." his words caused you and chris' face to turn red while matt and nick just laughed.

[blamemma]

thank u for the tag @semperama 😌 any opportunity to talk about my favourite thing! books! 😌

An estimate of how many physical books I own: where i live currently i have 132 physical books, but i also have some in storage and some in my parents house, so i would guess maybe about 220-250 maybeeee

Favorite author: i really don't have a stand out author...authors who have published my favouriteeee ever books have then produced really lackluster other works in my opinion....i feel like someone who never lets me down is ottessa moshfegh because u get what u get with her but i don't think i'd claim her as an outright favourite??

A popular book I've never read and never intend to read: truly anything by colleen hoover i am all for big popular books that get a large specific audience reading again, but we can do better by young girls and get them reading something sliiiightttllyyyy better (not shitting on anyone who enjoys colleen hoover, again they cater to a specific market and i think thats great, just not my cup of tea, but from what i've heard she's got a couple of questionable opinions)

A popular book I thought was just meh: normal people! :)) god it bored me sooooooooo much which is a shame cause the tv show slaps

Longest book I own: a suitable boy by vikram seth, 1474 pages!!!!!!!! and i read it in two weeks during the height of covid lockdown and it was EXCELLENT

Longest series I own all the books to: probably game of thrones....never been a massive series gal so yeah thats the only one i can think of off the top of my head?

Prettiest book I own: i have a really beautiful collection of charles dickens' books even though i'm not his biggest fan at all (loved david copperfield, enjoy a christmas carol, have read great expectations) but they were a gift and they do look really pretty on my shelves at my parents house!

A book or series I wish more people knew about: urmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm okay not to like talk about it again.............but at swim two boys............it was highly applauded when it was first published and was very popular but feel like it's popularity waned but its got two boys trying to resist falling in love and choosing to spend time together by learning to swim in the cold dublin sea.......the tumblr girlies would eat that up nowadays......also bewilderment by richard powers i think everyone should read that book 😌

Book I'm reading now: briefly, a delicious life by nell stevens....only about 50 pages in so far but good fun, a sapphic ghost love story from what i can tell so far so intriguing....

Book that's been on my TBR list for a while but I still haven't got around to it: the fifth season by n.k. jemisin.....tried reading it but wasn't in a sci-fi mood so only got one chapter in and then it has just.....sat there......for like.....two years......

Do you have any books in a language other than English: no and i am ashamed.....

Paperback, hardcover, or ebook?: paperback anyyyyyyyyyyy day of the week let me BREAK that spine let me make you look worn and loved and read let me chuck you into my bag and u barely add any weight!!! i dont hate a hardback but avoid buying them unless it is a book i am DESPERATE to read asap or it's at a good price but yeah i am a paperback girlie <3 don't own an e-reader apart from having the kindle app on my ipad so v rarely venture into e-books and i am sorry but nothing beats the feel of a book in ur hands like i need to feeeeel the pages

tagging @gokartkid @monagasque @lilyrizzy & @karlmarxverstappen if u would like xx

[mapplejuice]

Don't forget - Your choices still matter.

Another Deltarune analysis, featuring a non-techie person explaining a bit of tech and why we should probably be aware of it.

Since the day of its release into the public eye, Deltarune has made it a point to tell us that "your choices don't matter" -- whether "you" refers to either Kris or you as the player. Toby's already confirmed Deltarune to have one ending, and the game pokes a lot of fun at giving you choices only for your answer (if it even lets you answer) to be inconsequential. This came as a stark contrast to Undertale, where e v e r y choice mattered in the most unexpected ways. Even the choices we thought we erased, the choices we expected no consequence from, could come back with a vengeance later in the game.

So, before we get to into things, let's talk about how Undertale can make your decisions bite you in the ass.

Undertale has a relatively small SAVE file, with only about 500 lines and flags altogether. In your computer's local app data, you can see up to three true SAVE files: file0, for your actual game; file8, referred to as "Flowey's" file; and file9, which is the auto-save file. Within these files, the game stores your name, inventory, room, and your progress through the story (along with other things). On a typical reset, files 0 and 9 are erased (file8 is suspiciously spared, but surprisingly not our target).

What doesn't get erased during a normal reset is the undertale.ini file.

Unlike the SAVE files, you don't need to interact with a SAVE point to update your .ini--it's automatic whenever certain events occur. And unlike your SAVE, which usually keeps track of events as a "yes" or "no", the .ini is a counter, meaning it also keeps track of the amount of times you've witnessed a given scene or done something.

Here's a snippet of my current .ini file as reference. Among other things, we can see my pie preference (Bscotch = 2), how I've killed and spared Toriel once each (TK = 1 and TS = 1), that I've already walked through New Home the first time (Tale = 1), how many times I've died (Gameover = 1; I got cocky in the Undyne fight), and how many times I've walked through the final door (Won = 5). All of these entries affect what the game does, whether it's Flowey directly taunting me or Goat Mom getting deja vu over butterscotch pie.

In short: Undertale uses an external file to keep track of everything you've done, not just everything you've saved. It's honestly a very simple and effective strategy to make your video game meta. Doki Doki Literature Club actually does something pretty similar, using an external "persistent" file to keep track of what scenes you've played out with each girl and what leg of the story you're in. By having a file outside of your saves, something that can be updated in the background without extra action, you can effectively give your characters a ripple-proof memory-- or thereabouts, anyway.

Savvy players, however, will notice that Deltarune still doesn't do this; when you erase a file slot, there's no residual evidence of it both in the game and in the files. And that's true! There's points to be made about how the SAVE files seem to "hide" certain flags, like your vessel choices and your Eggs (which I could DEFINITELY talk more about in the future), but all of these choices are still confined to the same run.

But Deltarune may not need an all-encompassing persistent file-- just one that sees what you're still doing.

So far, there's only one event within the entirety of Deltarune that hints at the game reading not one, but all of your SAVE files at the same time: when you talk to Seam in Chapter 2.

If you've defeated Jevil in any one of your active CH1 files, you can access the Shadow Crystal and Jevilstail/Devilsknife in any of your CH2 files, even if they're not directly linked. Seam will even talk about you defeating Jevil, and be surprised when you say that you haven't. On first glance, this probably just looks like an anti-frustration tool; after all, the Jevil fight is one of the hardest in the entire franchise, and making players beat him in three different runs might be asking for a bit too much. Perhaps it's nothing...

...But how do we feel about the dr "config" file versus "true_config"? Because I'm a little sussed out.

Lo and behold, opening up the dr.ini file reveals a summary of all your active save files (both CH1 and CH2, in-game and end of chapter) in one place. Unlike undertale.ini, it's a much shorter summary with only 8 variables per SAVE. InitLang, Room, Date, Time, and Name are all self-explanatory; "UraBoss" refers to the secret boss fight of the chapter (0 = not fought, 1 = won violently, 2 = won peacefully).

But how about that difference between Love and Level?

I wonder how that changes during a Snowgrave run, or if future chapters include their own "Weird Route".

I wonder why the other files need to know.

Perhaps Ralsei was right--and perhaps, should we continue anyway, our consequences are not confined to one timeline.

[stevethehairington]

sending this as a reply to my ask abt your tommy/stommy hc’s cause either there’s a character limit on replies or my app is glitching.

i love steddie sm and am a very monogamous person so i feel like it’s cheating whenever i read stommy stuff if they’re past a time when steve could be with eddie (no judgement to any poly folks!it’s just not my cup of tea) but i genuinely LOVE stommy hc’s where they’re into each other before steve meets eddie/eddie even shows up on steve’s radar. i’m literally eating up your take on stommy ~we’re just fooling around cause teen boys are horny and have needs~ but with secret feelings.

and don’t get me wrong, i’m a fan of lot of different takes on steve and his queer development. but in a lot of fics his first gay experiences are with eddie (whether he knew he liked men before eddie or not), so it’s fun to think about him messing around with tommy (maybe steve realizes he has feelings for tommy, maybe he thinks they’re just bros bein bros and everyone does this…until eddie’s like hold on i thought you were straight, why are u trying to offering to blow me??) <- sorry i got lost in that hc lmao

your characterization of tommy is so great! i’ve never thought too much on his background other than him and steve being confused baby bi/gays not understanding that their feelings for each other do not fall under the ‘normal heterosexual umbrella’. like your hc of him being a middle child out of five siblings in a divorced household and craving attention wherever he can get it feels so right

also i will 100% check your fics out as soon as i can get a grip on my school assignments. the end of the semester is creeping up and i’m not far off from flying a little too close to the sun when it comes to putting finals prep off. (hope u liked my icarus ref, i still need to read eddie’s book as well lol)

ah, yeah, there is a character limit in tumblr notes. i don't know what the actual number is, but it's definitely not long enough lol and it's SO annoying that if you've got a lot to say you gotta keep breaking it up.

anyways. i can totally understand that! seeing your faves with other people, whether it's individually or together with others isn't always what you wanna see! they are your favorite pairing for a reason, presumably, so it makes sense you wanna see the two of them happy together alone.

whiiiiiiiich is what makes stommy so fantastic, because tommy is really only in the picture before eddie. sure, they were all in school together at the same time, and surely have crossed each other's paths then, BUT in terms of like onscreen canon, by the time we are introduced to eddie, tommy is long gone.

tommy being The First for steve, whether he knows it or not, is literally my f a v o r i t e. like you see all these posts saying eddie was steve's bi awakening or that jonathan was - and those are great posts!! i love those posts!! those are both great concepts!! BUT i am firmly in the camp that there was someone BEFORE eddie, BEFORE jonathan, and that person was tommy.

and like the thing about tommy is there is SO much to work with!!! tommy (and carol too) is SUCH a bare bones character in the show that it is SO easy to take him and run with him. but at the same time, there is just enough little detail and nuance in his character's portrayal that there's SO much to build off of! and because of that you can literally take stommy in any direction you want to!! like, tommy has feelings for steve, but is so unwilling to acknowledge them that he keeps it to himself and suffers silently for the rest of his life only to finally face those feelings years and years later, when its too late, and have to live with the regret of never doing or saying anything about it back then? FANTASTIC! tommy has feelings for steve and makes a move and steve is receptive because he ALSO has a crush on tommy? EXCELLENT! tommy has feelings for steve and makes a move and steve ISNT receptive because he DOESNT share those feelings? DELICIOUS, WE LOVE UNREQUITED FEELINGS! and even MORE delicious - if years down the line steve thinks back on that moment and realizes, no, it wasn't that he didn't feel the same, it's just that he didn't know what those strange feelings were and interpreted them as nonreciprocation when in fact they were the exact opposite!! YES! tommy and steve fool around and never put a name to it because that makes it Real and Real is scary, so it's just a Thing they do that never gets acknowledged, despite the fact that it actually meant A Lot for both of them? GIVE ME A SPOON, I AM EATING IT UP!!! there are just so many flavors of stommy and all of them are SO good.

i'm glad you love the "we're just fooling around cause teen boys are horny and have needs - but with secret feelings" headcanon!! it's genuinely one of my favorites for them (and honestly i love reading that for steddie too! it's just a fun trope in general no matter who it is!!) i just love it when theyre totally OBLIVIOUS to the reality of the situation and to what it actually means to both of them - because it DOES mean something to both of them. they're both under the impression that it's totally casual for the other, but it is, in fact, not, and that kind of miscommunication is just deeeelicious. it's one of my favorite things to see in fics and hcs and stuff when steve has all these really gay experiences and grows up thinking that ALL guys have these experiences only to look back on it and realize oh. OH. that WAS really gay of me.

to your next point, yes!! exactly!! there are a lot of fics that have eddie be steve's first foray into any sort of homosexual activity or queer awakening, and i DO love those, i will ALSO eat those up with a spoon!! but you're so right, it's SO fun to see it where eddie ISN'T his first. like i fully believe that the seeds of steve's queer awakening were sown from VERY early on in his life (aka his relationship with tommy - whether the feelings get acknowledged or not). if steve doesn't realize it back then while it's happening, then he certainly does in the future when he finally looks back on it all and confronts that behavior/those feelings.

i also LOVE the hc that steve has had more queer experiences than eddie. like, i definitely think that eddie figured out that he liked boys way before steve ever did, BUT steve has still had more queer experiences because he never really saw them as that. he thought sometimes kissing your boy best friend was normal - you've got to get your practice somewhere right? or jerking off your boy best friend isn't weird, it's just a hand. it's just convenience. and eddie, of course, is a queer gay virign - the hill i will die on skjfls.

sooooo YEAH steve propositioning eddie and eddie being just absolutely shook by that because holy shit did steve harrington just say he wants to suck my dick? while steve is just sitting there all casual because it's just another friday night between bros for him. LOVEEEE THAT flkjgfd. that is an excellent hc 👏 love it when that kind of thing happens and eddie is like uhhhh dude. that's hella gay. to which steve is like no?? me and tommy used to do that all the time?? and eddies just like steve. my dude. my guy. you and tommy were hella gay with each other. and it's only in this moment that steve like takes a step back and reevaluates all the shit he and tommy got up to and realizes that, holy shit, yeah, eddie is RIGHT. that all WAS very fucking gay. and shit, maybe he DID actually have feelings for tommy back then, huh. that inexplicable feeling back then suddenly makes a whole lotta sense now. (and then ofc steve rolls with that so quickly and goes, so like can i suck your dick or not? to which eddie loses his fucking mind skfjsf.)

thank you so much!!! that means a lot to hear!! characterization is super important to me so that really makes me so happy you think that!! it is my Civic Duty on this good earth to spread the tommy hagan/stommy agenda and open as many people's eyes to it as i can sldjdsfs.

but yeah! like i said, i just love thinking about tommy. i have a degree in psychology so i LOVE thinking about like what goes on in people's brains and what makes them tick and behave the way they do and what their driving factors are and where those might have stemmed from. so applying all of that to my favorite blorbos is a definite favorite passtime of mine lol. i'm glad it could intrigue you too!!

and ahh thank you!! i hope you enjoy the fics when you do get around to reading them! good luck with your school assignments!! you've got this!! (and yess haha excellent icarus ref 👏)

[reflections-of-mobius]

@familylightfox asked:

Volt was gentle as he used his claws to comb his partner’s quills that night. It was something he did often there on the couch in the lobby to help ease the ache that came from the usual transformation. But when he looked up to see Node approach, he put one finger to his lips.

The reason why?

To not give away just how many flowers he had woven into the werehog’s quills in the process. He could have been mistaken for a Disney Princess.

[Unprompted. | Accepting!]

It was always painful.- Maybe he'd just gotten used to it over the years, but where it once made Bless scream and thrash..now, there was only a dull ache as his musculature filled out, as fur grew, thick and dark, as Dark Chaos Energy wormed its way up his arms...it burned, the pounding in his head an all-encompassing sensation. It was all eased only by the gentle fingers of Volt, his frame semi-relaxed as dark smoke drifted off of him like a miasma- slowly drifting to the floor.

There were times the transition was almost instant, was a snap of pain like a burst...but times like this, when it stretched...were nice. He could feel something slowly being embedded into his quills, unwilling to look just yet. His eyes were still shut tight, soft purrs rumbling in his chest.

Node blinked. It was almost an instant transition- the faint sound of their footsteps on the floor disappearing without a trace, a hand slowly raising to cover their mouth...the other also raised, though this one held a familiar black-and-white phone case. Ever-so-silently, they opened the camera app...being sure not to make a sound as they snuck a little closer, eyes flicking between Volt and the flower-dazzled werehog.

After taking a few photos, they silently slid their phone back into their pocket- a hand reaching out hesitantly- only to retract.

Bless shifted- slowly raising his head from Volt's lap, nuzzling the hybrid's cheek with a soft hum. The transformation was finished- his lithe runner's form replaced with something more like an upwards-built tank, a small fanged smile forming on his muzzle.

"..thanks, V..." His eyes slowly shifted over, quirking an eyebrow at Node- who was still staring at him. Oh, they were so glad they got photos. "...what?- Have I got somethin' in my teeth again?"

"....no, Volt just made you cuter than usual...which is really a feat in of itself." The werehog's eyebrow only shifted higher.

"What?-" Node produced their phone, turning it on and around so that Bless could see the picture. The werehog stared at it for a few moments- silence filling the inn as his tail slowly began to wag.

"....thanks, Funke..." He turned, letting his lips brush Volt's cheek- resting there for a beat before pulling away. "....I expect to get those photos, by the way." A few of the flowers that Volt had braided into Bless' quills began to glow- as did the werehog himself, the ring in his chest thrumming a little more brightly. Some of the green stems grew further, intertwining amongst his fur.- One went so far as to split into another small flower, unfurling its petals before Bless picked it off.

His hand wrapped around the delicate stem, he presented it to Volt with a grin.

"Still doesn't compare to you, though." Was he being sappy?...just for a moment, yes.

Node felt like their heart was going to burst.

[bigfrozenfan-fanfics]

About tough decisions to use the right music track to a specific scene

Not all readers of "The Broken Bridge" listen to the hand-selected music tracks for my scenes(*), but I want to go into a little more detail in this particular post so you can see how much effort can go into just one scene.

As you may know, HeinrichVSA, my beta reader and friend, and I work closely together to select certain music tracks. I write and he finds the music tracks that I end up choosing to use. It's not always easy, because on the one hand the length has to fit the scene and on the other hand it has to support the mood as perfectly as possible. I listen to the music while I read the scene at the same time, checking whether the dynamics match certain actions precisely and then I determine the sentence in the story where exactly the music should start. A perfect result would be if the track stops exactly at the end of the scene and the dynamics in it can emphasise certain actions. This doesn't always work, but sometimes it is desirable for the music to cover several scenes.

I can't use many titles simply because they involve singing or speaking, or because there is clapping from the audience at the end. This distracts from reading. So far I've only used two songs with vocals in "The Broken Bridge", but only as bonus tracks at the end of the chapters. With the exception of titles where the vocals are untranslatable and part of the music (Sámi Joik, for example). Watch a film and see how the score is used in certain scenes to heighten the drama, then you'll understand what I mean.

In the last chapter, "Corona", I wanted you not only to read about Fabian's joy at being back home and reliving a childhood memory, but to literally feel his emotions. Everyone knows the scene in Tangled where Rapunzel dances with joy in the square in front of the church and draws other people around her into it. In my opinion, it's one of the best scenes in the film and I love this song.

My only problem with it was how to integrate the relatively short song into the already written scene in such a way that it both emphasises Fabian's thoughts and feelings on the way through the town and ends exactly when the dance is over. The increasing speed of the dance also had to fit in as closely as possible with what had already been written. So I started looking for alternatives over the next few days after finishing the chapter. Some YouTubers extended the song, but either it lost its original dynamics, or you could hear too clearly where the song was edited or it was simply extended in the wrong place. There were also two very well-made remakes from fans to choose from, but either just as short as the original (2 min 20) or unfortunately with adverts at the end. In the end, I decided in favour of an extremely well-made extended version that met all my criteria.

(*) Many Frozen fans on Tumblr don't read fanfics on a computer, but on their smartphone. Tumblr unfortunately has the stupid habit of simply stopping embedded songs in posts when you read with the app. This doesn't happen if you read my chapters in the blog on a laptop, for example.

Here are the songs from Tangled Fans that I sorted out, but which are still great:

Heinrich's 1st choice, the Tavern Edition:

My find, as a violin duet, unfortunately with adverts for more of their videos at the end:

My previous favourite to use song in the chapter, 16 seconds longer than the original, but still extended in the wrong place:

And an alternative track that would have worked in theory, but was unfortunately too long and had applause at the end:

The remaining alternatives with edited originals are only given here as links:

youtube.com/watch?v=d6o9u0a3GJ8 (Kingdom dance (extended, doubled and tripled chorus)) youtube.com/watch?v=81GocqvwTMg (Kingdom Dance crossover with "How To Train Your Dragon" at the end) Someone even came up with the idea of editing this track for a real dance with a length of 4:02, but the dynamics are totally lost in the process: youtube.com/watch?v=cGnhmA3BNbI

The following were also up for selection:

youtube.com/watch?v=VI-JynUarrs (Rapunzel's Exordium by Frostudio Chambersonic) youtube.com/watch?v=sMCwW0TcBYk (Reels, irish dance music, good but far too long) youtube.com/watch?v=u9veEEnax-k (Reels traditional, by Katie Grennan, same as above) youtube.com/watch?v=tIQjHeMYBfg (Slip Jigs, by Katie Grennan, too long, wrong instruments for the scene) and a few others This one is funny for the dance performance starting at 4:19 (Apollo's Fire - O'Carolan Dance scene), but too long as well, laughing in the audience plus applause and too slow over all: youtube.com/watch?v=1OD4jAOp5So youtube.com/watch?v=givlwY9d9UQ (animated movie excerpt, but sadly with spoken words in it)

Last find for the Tangled fans here, a video with animated Corona scenes for relaxing Tangled music to study & relax, with a length of nearly one hour!

[storiesofsvu]

it's thursday, lets round up law and order night

Just discovered I can select citytv toronto so I can watch this shit at 5pm. Fucking win. 

Okay, the way these eps are airing doesn’t make our hypothesis about the maddie case coming to canada to launch CO:TO make sense, we’ll see… 

Not shaw instantly knowing it’s a dating app 👀👀 

Jfc...word on my laptop doesnt want to open, im stuck doing this through safari, fuck i hate the way technology is changing... hoping it works later, i was planning on writing tonight. Ugh. 

Man, the way that receptionists/door staff is always all “hey! Excuse me! You can’t go back there” always makes me laugh, like, first off, how do the cops know where they’re going/that the person theyre looking for is actually back there?  

Why are there no lights on in this courtroom? Wtf? 

Nolan just tells sam to do all the work and then takes lead on all the cases, huh? 

The way this ep is going its lowkey looking like mccoy is getting fired/forced to retire, not doing it voluntarily lol. 

Lol, i give no shits if they fire nolan, just don’t touch my samantha bebe pls. 

Okay so they really are setting mccoy up to being fired, hey? 

All of these shows would be SO much better if they actually just acknowledged that they all exist in the same universe/city. Like... i’d love to see the same recurring cast members as the defence attorneys/judges/etc as the same characters in all three shows. Or like, have them mention each other, like in this ep they easily could have at least been like “hold on, I'll call benson, maybe she caught the case” no need to guest star, just mention it. Though they could guest star the other characters considering svu is only giving screen time to M and Ice... 

I am SO bored watching jack in court... where’s the spunk? 

There is way too much political shit that goes into this. Ugh.  

Also this send off is lame. They really couldnt have done it any better? The promos made me think it was some big celebratory thing... 

Yeah that was lame as shit. 

Alright... moment of truth.... is CI Toronto going to be good or absolute crap? 

Why is it tinted blue? This is like when shows “go to mexico” and they just tint the screen yellow. Do they think canada is blue tinted because of the snow/cold? 

Theme song does not slap. 

Where did my subtitles go?? 

Okay the liutenant is my faourite part so far. I like her. Female detective is on the fence for me right now, i don’t like the dude. 

Are they not carrying guns?? Does dick wolf think canadian cops don’t carry guns? Cause i assure you they do... 

LOL at the casual dropping of facts about characters we know nothing about. She has a kid, noted. 

... i stopped paying attention, i can’t lie. This isn’t terrible, but it isn’t great. We coulda had For the Defence... 

Okay, so like i said, not terrible, but i found it pretty boring.  

Moving on to SVU 

Okay this is clearly some kind of abduction situation going on. 

Velasco got a line! Yay! 

Wanna steal that plaid...ngl. 

“aren’t you a captain” THAT IS EXACTLY MY QUESTION, HOW DOES THIS SQUAD NOW HAVE TWO CAPTAINS??!! Make it make sense!! 

“and you needed a rollins” thank you fin for telling it like it is. 

Liv is off her fucking rocker man, like yeah, the kid on the train obvi needs help, and they should intervene and there is a slight chance that it is related to the maddie situation, but that’s the only thing she can see righ tnow and it’s not making for a good show. 

Say pittsburg one more time. I dare you. 

“it’s captain benson” uh... eileen called *her* why did that phone convo go like that? 

The delulu in this episode is stronger than my delulu imagining being married to fictional charaters jfc.. 

“happi burger” ?!?!? I'm having s9 flashbacks 

Aaaand a guest star that was on the show in the last year and a half is guest starring again... as a different character... not surprised. *sigh* (at the v least she’s acting her ass off and is good at what she does so...) 

Liv you have as many issues as this agent, don’t try and make her seem like she should open up to you lololol. 

“you sure youre not just projecting?” THANK YOU 

Thank fuck this gd maddie shit is finally done with. I am over it lol. 

Liv's out here just adopting rescues from all sorts of different departments temporarily, this doesn’t make any sense. 

Omg this OC flashback just made me so excited, all the amazing shit that happened last week LOL. 

Literally thought that old man was mcgrath.. 

I'm sorry... if i find something in a *bathroom* garbage can, the last thing I'm doing is putting it in my *mouth* 

Ayanna being all “gimmie!” about the stuffie is adorable. I may have to write some kind of fix it fic for her/this situation.... 

Okay that was lazy writing, Rita’s friend literally just basically repeated the exact same phrase twice... 

“no gps to pull from a camera” that is a straight up fucking lie. Both my point and shoot and my dslr have gps... 

This other tech guy working for them (ai guy?) he reminds me of kevin from crimi. Not sure if that’s just the over eager-second choice tech- guy vibes or if its something else... 

I don’t trust this bitch. At all. She's gotta be in on it. 

Hahahahaha elliot’s face when he walks in to jet and bobby in the room lol. 

This hate crimes guy is growing on me. 

Anyone else looking at the parallels of liv being hyperfocused on maddie and finding her, meanwhile elliot was so wrapped up with the Rita situation in the last season and now is so upset/lost about losing her... 

AYANNA CUDDLING HER LIL STUFFIE AHHHH *soft* 

[mute-call]

aesthetics for the entities.   bold what applies to your muse, italics what applies situationally or only in certain verses.  this is based on a horror podcast;  potentially triggering and / or upsetting content ahead! snatched from the lovely @erotoph !!

i.  the buried.   weighed blankets.  drowning.  the comfort of a loved one’s weight.  soil and sand piling on top of you.  hugging so hard it hurts a little. cramped hiding spots.  letting out air underwater to sink to the bottom of the pool.  walls pressing in on you.  not moving from a position even though you’re cramping a little.  dragging the last second before you have to inhale.  lonely subways.  feeling like one with the earth.  a layer of dirt on you.  looking for something below.  cardboard boxes and tiny pillow forts.  hands calloused from digging.  knowing that your purpose is just below the surface.  entering your final resting place before it kills you.  a storm drowning you out.  dust and sand speaking to you.

ii.  the corruption. insects.  a close imitation of the natural course of life.  an illness in a community.  a rag that dirties more than it cleans.  an untreated wound.  containment.  breaching containment.  unbreathable air.  fungi.  one with that you love.  one with what loves you.  a corpse unfit for a glass case.  hearing a song in the sound of tiny wings and legs.  honeycomb patterns.  an ecosystem within a person.  a curse passed on.  the hubris of a scientist.  an ugly death where a glorious one is owed.  blood on a handkerchief.  parasites.  something pushing up the sewer.  a mask to keep something out.  trypophobia.  knowing you belong.  death weeks after impact.  fever.  food that’s gone off.  pandora’s box.  death behind a glass.

iii.  the dark.   shadows.  lights that turn off by themselves.  the feel of cold marble.  a beaked creature in the night.  the difference between seeing darkness and seeing nothing.  touch of something you can’t see.  hiding under a blanket.  white, clouded eyes.  months without going outside during sunlight.  pouring dark.  unscrewing lightbulbs.  black matter.  light sensitivity.  a starless night.  time before light was created.  a shadow on the wall without a body to attach to.  withering plants.  a world without a sun.  footfalls in an empty house in the night.  a light that doesn’t reach as far as it should.  desperate reach for a flashlight.  clothes that hide your shape.  staying unperceivable.  winter months in the north.  an empty church.

iv.  the desolation.   senseless pain.  warmth of faith.  wax where skin should be.  a blazing fire.  heat without a source.  the third or fourth tragedy in the family.  losing everything you’ve ever held dear.  so much to live for, gone so soon.  the smell of gasoline.  touch that scars.  coffee cup that never goes cold.  scorch marks on wood.  inescapably warm air.  a child born in fire.  death of a loved one.  a candle without a flame.  an altar in the middle of the woods.  animals with burnt fur.  plastic explosives.  burning hot metal.  sweating in an interrogation room.  never touching a loved one.  disfigurement.  a kiss that ruins you.  the scent of burning fat.  a tattoo that terrifies its viewer.  the agony of hellfire displayed as art.  auburn hair.  little clothing in cold weather.  a ripple in the air.  trying to cool down in vain.

v.  the flesh. body horror.  factories.  a hunger for something more filling.  never quite happy with how you look.  the terror of an animal waiting for slaughter.  a very good meal.  the liquid of a perfect steak.  fighting your worst survival instincts.  a twisted bone.  long nights working out.  more than one heart.  appearance that shapes like clay.  a bag of bones.  bone broth in a pot.  knowing to fear pigs.  the butcher’s shop.  plastic surgery.  something alien inside your body.  a hunger in the gaze laid upon you.  unwitting cannibalism.  forgetting what you used to look like.  being admired for your appearance and appearance only.  teeth marks on skin.  scars from wounds that should’ve killed you.  cooking in scarcity.  fenced in with one way to go.

vi.  the end.   the last page of a book.  nightmares that don’t feel like nightmares.  a skeletal hand.  the grip of the grim reaper around your throat. existential pain.  ivory dice.  flatlining in a hospital.  gambling with death.  as old as the universe.  soul and spirit tied to an object.  a dream where you die. closing your eyes for the last time. the plead of a dying one.  knowing the fate of someone you know and being unable to prevent it.  a thousand cords tugging you towards your end.  skin that’s freezing to the touch.  an act of desperation.  someone’s life for yours.  an eternity spent alive.  the cost of your selfishness.  watching your own burial.  causing your own burial.  the smell of death.  numbness to fear.  words from someone gone.  meaninglessness of the actions or lives of single people in the universe.  multiple near-death experiences you refuse to die from.

vii.  the eye.   googling something you shouldn’t have.  eureka moments.  the unforgiving lens of a camera.  witness reports.  hidden libraries.  eyes of different colors. feeling of being watched.  a death recorded in tape.  a tragedy you can’t watch away from.  endangering yourself for knowledge.  truth.  analog records.  a symbol of an eye.  a watch tower.  compulsion to document.  turning on recording devices without thinking about it.  saving the evidence before the person.  extracting information.  truth or dare, without the dare.  a thirst for knowledge.  books that speak to you.  coordinated shelves.  cataloguing systems.  voyeurism.  police report you can’t put down.  reasoning your way out.  smell of old papers.  books that read you back.

viii.  the hunt.   sharp canines.  sore calves after a run.  the scent of blood.  an adventure for the journey’s sake.  the adrenaline right before the kill.   a whistle’s echo.  the woods.  the doe eyes of a prey animal.  your own breath in the air.  sharpened claws.  being tracked.  fear of someone knowing your every movement.  hunting down monsters.  hide and seek.  running away only to end up where you started.  staying alive purely because the enemy enjoys seeing you run.  a set of footsteps behind you.  blood dripping from bare hands.  barks and growls.  focused eyes. a victim going limp under your hands.  a mouth full of fresh blood.  catching the scent of something monstrous.  perfecting your craft.  peering into the dark and running after it.

ix.  the lonely.   an apartment too small for a double bed.  completely vacant streets.  waking up to see everyone gone.  fog.  point nemo.  a house too big to hear your family members in.  alone in a faceless crowd.  a mask with nothing behind it.  separated cubicles.  a deafening silence where joy should be.  a blinding spotlight.  the least missed in your friend group.  streets without lights in the windows.  isolation.  not truly knowing your friends.  your friends not truly knowing you.  need for silence.  fear of crowds.  staring into space knowing nothing is looking back at you.  a ship alone at sea.  depression.  knowing your friends are better off without you.  talking to someone only to realize they’re gone.  a family too large to notice you there.  safety in being alone.

x.  the slaughter.     a game of tag.   senseless violence.  a true crime hobby.  improvised weapons.  blinding rage.  intent to kill. a horrific day in a quiet community.  a medal of bravery.  holding on to what validates your anger.  history books that spare no details.  an injury you want revenge for.  war.  counting kills.  songs of soldiers.  a knifeblock on the counter.  a pool of blood.  shellshock.  unspeakable horrors.  anger pushing you forward.  unimaginable pain.  not seeing who will hurt you but knowing the pain is coming.  a fully human monster.  an authority sending its lessers to their deaths.  kill or be killed.  unedited wartime memoirs.  a weapons collection.  not knowing the names of who you kill.  too many to remember.  loss of hope.  there’s no heroes in war.

xi.  the spiral. sleep deprivation.  corridors you can get lost in.  maze puzzles that loop back on themselves.  losing possessions.  losing people.  losing your sanity.  corkscrew curls.  rows of funhouse mirrors.  optical illusions.  a separate reality.  walking through the wrong door.  delusions.  not knowing what your hands are doing.  blank spaces in documents.  hallucinations.  wrong proportions.  a nameless thing.  a place that has never existed.  doubting your own mind.  blind faith.  losing track of names, labels, categories.  distorted sound.  an imperfection in a glass that twists the view.  loss of time.  a garish color.  doors that open to nowhere.  lies.  an unnatural laugh.  jokes and tricks.  illusions.  a doorway.  a sculptor with a wild imagination.  limbs in impossible angles.  doing what’s fun, not what’s sensible.  fractals you can get lost in.

xii.  the stranger.   wax figures.  a close approximation of a human face.  a borrowed appearance.  a strange smell.  glass eyes.  furs and pelts.  a dance.  a song of a choir.  the uncanny valley.  stitching yourself together.  the colors of a circus.  a puppet with no strings.  mannequins.  glitter and sequin.  a stranger you’ve always known.  someone strange in the place of someone you knew.  stolen identities.  stolen skins.  a machine imitating humanity.  the anonymity of a service worker.  hiding in plain sight.  uncomfortable to look at.  a faked accent.  concealing.  forgetting who you are.  forgetting who others are.  a replacement no one notices.  images that look posed.  the only one seeing the false face of someone.

xiii.  the vast.   open spaces.  carnival rides going up and down.  fear of heights.  endless infinity around you.  your insignificance in an universe.  stomach turning at a drop.  fear of not the crash down but the moment you slip.  the sway of a cable car.  an adventure holiday.  losing track of where the surface is.  miles and miles of nothing around you.  staring at the sky and feeling like you may fall into it.  loss of control.  a fall that doesn’t end in death.  glass floor to the view below.  terminal velocity.  the sound of wind in your ears.  a reach over the railing.  a jump from the top of the building.  falling into nothing.  feeling your feet let go of the ground.  a leap of faith.  motion sickness.

xiv.  the web.   undecipherable code.  a puppeteer holding the strings.  power over the weak-willed.  strings of fate.  manipulation.  an arranged accident.  a hundred minions doing your bidding.  cobwebs.  spiders.  a laid trap.  never voicing discomfort.  outwitting a cheater.  doing things without realizing it.  red string across a corkboard.  finding something lost where you were sure you checked.  power over the unreliability of chance.  watching others dance for you.  an entangled death.  a thousand tiny legs and fangs.  shady forum threads.  something important gone missing.  suspiciously disregarded case.  a missing witness.  connections.  the world wide web.  power of victimhood.  gullibility.  no control over your own decisions.  an invisible leash.  mass psychology.  a horror film in the making.  scapegoat.  never remembering to ask for a name.

+  the extinction.   the end of an era.  apocalypse movies.  the alarms of warning systems.  a desolate landscape.  end of the world cults.  nihilism.  the last written history.  a changed world.  no survivors.  old prophecies.  a thousand predicted ends.  a new chapter.  an end with no escape.  catastrophes.  a calendar counting down.  breaking point.  overindulgence.

[erotoph]

aesthetics for the entities.   bold what applies to your muse, italics what applies situationally or only in certain verses.  this is based on a horror podcast;  potentially triggering and / or upsetting content ahead! ( idk who to tag, so you're welcome to steal it! )

i.  the buried.   weighed blankets.  drowning.  the comfort of a loved one’s weight.  soil and sand piling on top of you.  hugging so hard it hurts a little.  cramped hiding spots.  letting out air underwater to sink to the bottom of the pool.  walls pressing in on you.  not moving from a position even though you’re cramping a little.  dragging the last second before you have to inhale.  lonely subways.  feeling like one with the earth.  a layer of dirt on you.  looking for something below.  cardboard boxes and tiny pillow forts.  hands calloused from digging.  knowing that your purpose is just below the surface.  entering your final resting place before it kills you.  a storm drowning you out.  dust and sand speaking to you.

ii.  the corruption.   insects.  a close imitation of the natural course of life.  an illness in a community.  a rag that dirties more than it cleans.  an untreated wound.  containment.  breaching containment.  unbreathable air.  fungi.  one with that you love.  one with what loves you.  a corpse unfit for a glass case.  hearing a song in the sound of tiny wings and legs.  honeycomb patterns.  an ecosystem within a person.  a curse passed on.  the hubris of a scientist.  an ugly death where a glorious one is owed.  blood on a handkerchief.  parasites.  something pushing up the sewer.  a mask to keep something out.  trypophobia.  knowing you belong.  death weeks after impact.  fever.  food that’s gone off.  pandora’s box.  death behind a glass.

iii.  the dark.   shadows.  lights that turn off by themselves.  the feel of cold marble.  a beaked creature in the night.  the difference between seeing darkness and seeing nothing.  touch of something you can’t see.  hiding under a blanket.  white, clouded eyes.  months without going outside during sunlight.  pouring dark.  unscrewing lightbulbs.  black matter.  light sensitivity.  a starless night.  time before light was created.  a shadow on the wall without a body to attach to.  withering plants.  a world without a sun.  footfalls in an empty house in the night.  a light that doesn’t reach as far as it should.  desperate reach for a flashlight.  clothes that hide your shape.  staying unperceivable.  winter months in the north.  an empty church.

iv.  the desolation.   senseless pain.  warmth of faith.  wax where skin should be.  a blazing fire.  heat without a source.  the third or fourth tragedy in the family.  losing everything you’ve ever held dear.  so much to live for, gone so soon.  the smell of gasoline.  touch that scars.  coffee cup that never goes cold.  scorch marks on wood.  inescapably warm air.  a child born in fire.  death of a loved one.  a candle without a flame.  an altar in the middle of the woods.  animals with burnt fur.  plastic explosives.  burning hot metal.  sweating in an interrogation room.  never touching a loved one.  disfigurement.  a kiss that ruins you.  the scent of burning fat.  a tattoo that terrifies its viewer.  the agony of hellfire displayed as art.  auburn hair.  little clothing in cold weather.  a ripple in the air.  trying to cool down in vain.

v.  the flesh.   body horror.  factories.  a hunger for something more filling.  never quite happy with how you look.  the terror of an animal waiting for slaughter.  a very good meal.  the liquid of a perfect steak.  fighting your worst survival instincts.  a twisted bone.  long nights working out.  more than one heart.  appearance that shapes like clay.  a bag of bones.  bone broth in a pot.  knowing to fear pigs.  the butcher’s shop.  plastic surgery.  something alien inside your body.  a hunger in the gaze laid upon you.  unwitting cannibalism.  forgetting what you used to look like.  being admired for your appearance and appearance only.  teeth marks on skin.  scars from wounds that should’ve killed you.  cooking in scarcity.  fenced in with one way to go.

vi.  the end.   the last page of a book.  nightmares that don’t feel like nightmares.  a skeletal hand.  the grip of the grim reaper around your throat.  existential pain.  ivory dice.  flatlining in a hospital.  gambling with death.  as old as the universe.  soul and spirit tied to an object.  a dream where you die.  closing your eyes for the last time.  the plead of a dying one.  knowing the fate of someone you know and being unable to prevent it.  a thousand cords tugging you towards your end.  skin that’s freezing to the touch.  an act of desperation.  someone’s life for yours.  an eternity spent alive.  the cost of your selfishness.  watching your own burial.  causing your own burial.  the smell of death.  numbness to fear.  words from someone gone.  meaninglessness of the actions or lives of single people in the universe.  multiple near-death experiences you refuse to die from.

vii.  the eye.   googling something you shouldn’t have.  eureka moments.  the unforgiving lens of a camera.  witness reports.  hidden libraries.  eyes of different colors.  feeling of being watched.  a death recorded in tape.  a tragedy you can’t watch away from.  endangering yourself for knowledge.  truth.  analog records.  a symbol of an eye.  a watch tower.  compulsion to document.  turning on recording devices without thinking about it.  saving the evidence before the person.  extracting information.  truth or dare, without the dare.  a thirst for knowledge.  books that speak to you.  coordinated shelves.  cataloguing systems.  voyeurism.  police report you can’t put down.  reasoning your way out.  smell of old papers.  books that read you back.

viii.  the hunt.   sharp canines.  sore calves after a run.  the scent of blood.  an adventure for the journey’s sake.  the adrenaline right before the kill.   a whistle’s echo.  the woods.  the doe eyes of a prey animal.  your own breath in the air.  sharpened claws.  being tracked.  fear of someone knowing your every movement.  hunting down monsters.  hide and seek.  running away only to end up where you started.  staying alive purely because the enemy enjoys seeing you run.  a set of footsteps behind you.  blood dripping from bare hands.  barks and growls.  focused eyes.  a victim going limp under your hands.  a mouth full of fresh blood.  catching the scent of something monstrous.  perfecting your craft.  peering into the dark and running after it.

ix.  the lonely.   an apartment too small for a double bed.  completely vacant streets.  waking up to see everyone gone.  fog.  point nemo.  a house too big to hear your family members in.  alone in a faceless crowd.  a mask with nothing behind it.  separated cubicles.  a deafening silence where joy should be.  a blinding spotlight.  the least missed in your friend group.  streets without lights in the windows.  isolation.  not truly knowing your friends.  your friends not truly knowing you.  need for silence.  fear of crowds.  staring into space knowing nothing is looking back at you.  a ship alone at sea.  depression.  knowing your friends are better off without you.  talking to someone only to realize they’re gone.  a family too large to notice you there.  safety in being alone.

x.  the slaughter.    a game of tag.   senseless violence.  a true crime hobby.  improvised weapons.  blinding rage.  intent to kill.  a horrific day in a quiet community.  a medal of bravery.  holding on to what validates your anger.  history books that spare no details.  an injury you want revenge for.  war.  counting kills.  songs of soldiers.  a knifeblock on the counter.  a pool of blood.  shellshock.  unspeakable horrors.  anger pushing you forward.  unimaginable pain.  not seeing who will hurt you but knowing the pain is coming.  a fully human monster.  an authority sending its lessers to their deaths.  kill or be killed.  unedited wartime memoirs.  a weapons collection.  not knowing the names of who you kill.  too many to remember.  loss of hope.  there’s no heroes in war.

xi.  the spiral.   sleep deprivation.  corridors you can get lost in.  maze puzzles that loop back on themselves.  losing possessions.  losing people.  losing your sanity.  corkscrew curls.  rows of funhouse mirrors.  optical illusions.  a separate reality.  walking through the wrong door.  delusions.  not knowing what your hands are doing.  blank spaces in documents.  hallucinations.  wrong proportions.  a nameless thing.  a place that has never existed.  doubting your own mind.  blind faith.  losing track of names, labels, categories.  distorted sound.  an imperfection in a glass that twists the view.  loss of time.  a garish color.  doors that open to nowhere.  lies.  an unnatural laugh.  jokes and tricks.  illusions.  a doorway.  a sculptor with a wild imagination.  limbs in impossible angles.  doing what’s fun, not what’s sensible.  fractals you can get lost in.

xii.  the stranger.   wax figures.  a close approximation of a human face.  a borrowed appearance.  a strange smell.  glass eyes.  furs and pelts.  a dance.  a song of a choir.  the uncanny valley.  stitching yourself together.  the colors of a circus.  a puppet with no strings.  mannequins.  glitter and sequin.  a stranger you’ve always known.  someone strange in the place of someone you knew.  stolen identities.  stolen skins.  a machine imitating humanity.  the anonymity of a service worker.  hiding in plain sight.  uncomfortable to look at.  a faked accent.  concealing.  forgetting who you are.  forgetting who others are.  a replacement no one notices.  images that look posed.  the only one seeing the false face of someone.

xiii.  the vast.   open spaces.  carnival rides going up and down.  fear of heights.  endless infinity around you.  your insignificance in an universe.  stomach turning at a drop.  fear of not the crash down but the moment you slip.  the sway of a cable car.  an adventure holiday.  losing track of where the surface is.  miles and miles of nothing around you.  staring at the sky and feeling like you may fall into it.  loss of control.  a fall that doesn’t end in death.  glass floor to the view below.  terminal velocity.  the sound of wind in your ears.  a reach over the railing.  a jump from the top of the building.  falling into nothing.  feeling your feet let go of the ground.  a leap of faith.  motion sickness.

xiv.  the web.   undecipherable code.  a puppeteer holding the strings.  power over the weak-willed.  strings of fate.  manipulation.  an arranged accident.  a hundred minions doing your bidding.  cobwebs.  spiders.  a laid trap.  never voicing discomfort.  outwitting a cheater.  doing things without realizing it.  red string across a corkboard.  finding something lost where you were sure you checked.  power over the unreliability of chance.  watching others dance for you.  an entangled death.  a thousand tiny legs and fangs.  shady forum threads.  something important gone missing.  suspiciously disregarded case.  a missing witness.  connections.  the world wide web.  power of victimhood.  gullibility.  no control over your own decisions.  an invisible leash.  mass psychology.  a horror film in the making.  scapegoat.  never remembering to ask for a name.

+  the extinction.   the end of an era.  apocalypse movies.  the alarms of warning systems.  a desolate landscape.  end of the world cults.  nihilism.  the last written history.  a changed world.  no survivors.  old prophecies.  a thousand predicted ends.  a new chapter.  an end with no escape.  catastrophes.  a calendar counting down.  breaking point.  overindulgence.

[notwaitinginthecorner]

Working on a better version of my rough draft budget, so like looking back on what I've been spending recently and I knew my impulses have been ramped up recently but its v interesting to see it all sorted out. I'm gonna have to check on desktop to see how far back I can go month wise bc I want to do it for the whole year but I can only see 2 full months on my app. It's still rly good tho bc I'll have December to go off of soon too and then it'll be a fresh start and a new year with me in a much better financial mindset im pretty excited !!

[noafencee]

i just remembered i never did an intro post LMAOOO so this is gonna stand in for it for now!!!!

1. NOA!! (0v0) [i almost always type it in all caps so i implore anyone to do the same LOL]

2. I think this account is relatively fresh! i think its only a few months- a year old!

3. STRAWBERRIES 🫶🫶🫶🫶

4. GREEN TEA MY BELOVED! [actually maybe any herbal tea]

5. I am the middle child of three girls 😔

6. I have two [SOON TO BE THREE OMG!!!] AMAZING,GENTLE cats!!!!!

7. I am 15!!! turning 16 in the march of next year :]]

8. I am fluent in English and can hold a conversation in Irish! Im also learning French,Latin and ISL [as gradual hearing loss (usually capping off at around 25-30) runs in my family :) ]

9. definitely has to be Stranger Things!!!! (or gravity falls, my fav childhood show LOL) And any spiderman movie lol🫶

10. i like to listen to music,burn cds and read if i have any spare time! i also crochet a bit

11. i THINK im an ambivert, i usually match the vibe of the people around me! (for example, i have to be very outgoing and outspoken for one of my close friends as they have severe anxiety, and dont like talking to people outside of their close circle!)

12. if spotify is anything to go by, usually rock,indie pop and hiphop show us the most in my wrapped!

13. either New York (a basic pick i know LOL) or Canada! (id actually like to live in Canada when im REALLYYYYY older)

14. I wish i was better at reading a room 🙁 i often keep to myself when im with people i dont know because i fear i will say something and it wouldnt be the right time/thing to say 😭

15. depends on the app!! if its on whatsapp [as all my friends use that] ill be super quick! but i often have snapchat muted LOL so itll take me a while, instagram and iMessage is the same as whatsapp🫶 i try to be very quick as i dont want anyone to think im ignoring them!

16. no😔😔 id like to have a lower back tattoo tho! or a small star on my hand

17. LESBIAN RAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

18. i LOVEEEE reading!! Im currently reading The Goldfinch and it’s definitely one of my top picks so far! Good Omens was also quite good :)

19. I don’t believe i have, atleast from my perspective on romantic love, i definitely am head over heels platonically in love with all my friends tho 💙

20. single!! for now i wanna focus on my education and finding stability :3

21. yeah, NO CONTEXT!!

22. my 11th birthday party, it was the first time i had introduced my childhood friends (seperate groups) and they clicked so well!! (were all sosososo close to this day as a group this time!)

23. probably my younger sister smashing a plate on my knee (i still have a scar to this day) and then I got in trouble for “making her cry” 😔

24. i.am.TERRIFIED!!!of CRABS!!! DDDD: i can deal with spiders and snakes but CRABS!?!? id rather die than be in the same vicinity as a crab.

25. I think im both! i love waking up early and having quiet mornings to myself (or busy ones!! quiet is rare in my house lol) but i also LOVEEE the night, especially with friends!

26. 1,195! about 1k of those is photos of my friends and the rest is like byler LMAOOOO

27. I know this is for like fictional crushes but my best friend in like the whole entire universe \(-v-)/ he (yes,HE!! it was comphet i was 6 give me a break) is like the best and funniest person ive ever met and am PROUD i had a “crush” on him, even if it was bcuz of comphet lol

28. 110% HA, i love little moments and meaningful gestures, especially relationships where they just know the person top to bottom 💙⭐️

29. probably either a coffee date or a cute at-home dinner :)

30. oh lord here we go LOL

-cooking

-baking

-cleaning (dont dunk on me its relaxing)

-electric guitar

-skateboarding

-rollerblading

-crocheting

-would burning cds count as a hobby? im counting it.

-reading

-art! (painting,sketching,art murals,pottery,etc!)

-badminton,tennis,volleyball 🫶

WHOOP I THINK THATS IT!!!!!!! :33

Let your followers get to know you asks <3

What's your name?

For how long you have this account?

Favourite food?

Favourite drink?

Do you have any siblings?

Do you have pets?

How old are you?

How many languages do you know?

What's your all time favourite movie/tv show?

What are you enjoying to do in your free time?

Are you an introvert or an extrovert?

Your favourite music genres?

Your dream place to visit?

Something you wish you were better at?

How long do you take to respond to texts?

Do you have any tattoos? If not, would like to?

What's your sexuality?

Do you like reading? If yes what's your favourite book?

Have you ever been in love?

What's your relationship status?

Have you ever been heartbroken?

Best memory you could think of?

Worst memory you can think of?

Do you have any fears?

Are you a morning or a night person?

How many pictures you have on your phone?

Who was your favourite childhood crush?

Are you a romantic?

What’s your dream date?

What are your hobbies?

[freeuselandonorris]

https://www.tumblr.com/freeuselandonorris/749117811625967616/httpswwwtumblrcomfreeuselandonorris749095304

omg okay the ending i got was the sun!! i don’t think it’s a major spoiler to say that the way to get that ending is ask rogue for help and choose v instead of johnny at the end. i think you should replay the ending real quick just to see the sun ending too, unless you’d rather do another full play through for it. won’t say anything else about it other than its worth it!!

siding with arasaka feels so wrong considering they’re who you’re fighting against the entire game. i played the corpo path and it still wouldn’t have made sense, it seems they’re all set up so siding with arasaka seems like the wrong choice.

i pretty much had the same experience with the ending, at first i was scared of dying because i read there’s one ending where you only get one shot but i wasn’t sure if it was all or not, so i was nervous. but it’s just one ending and the rest you get checkpoints, so i was fine! i cried all through the credits, i was really heartbroken and guilty over choosing v

i haven’t read neuromancer but i placed a hold for it on my library app!! the cyberspace is one of my absolute favorite things about that game, it’s one of the things i’m looking forward to seeing again when i replay. i really want more on alt, she was one of my favorite characters in the entire game. if they could make a game about her, i would play it.

i’ve read about the pl ending they added but haven’t played it, so im excited to see your reaction to it!! i loved johnny’s character growth through the story, it’s so fun talking to him. i loved when he popped up randomly and gave advice on side missions, always sided with him bc i wanted him to like me. i think i’m gonna be boy v on my next playthrough so i’m interested to see what dialogue options change with him and how they interact vs with girl v.

i love that they had a real band playing samurai, it added a bit of depth to the game. and grimes as lizzy, that was really fun. i wanted more music in cyberpunk so i was always listening to cyberpunk playlists on spotify and found out about refused that way bc they have samurais music on spotify!

omg anonnnnnn okay i am gonna play through PL and do the PL ending and then i'm gonna loop back and replay the ending to get the sun because i'm curious now lmao! feel like i am going to be forever crying at this stupid perfect game 😭

i am kinda curious to do the arasaka ending at some point just to see whether there's any kind of like...material difference in the outcomes, because you're right that it does feel like such an unappealing choice to make even if you're on the corpo lifepath?? there was just no point in the game where i started feeling any kind of empathy towards them or wanting to side with them and that felt deliberately done, so yeah, curious to see if there's some sort of completely different ending pathway for choosing that option.

thoughts on PL so far: i'm only on the third storyline quest so pretty early on so far but i really like that it's got such a focus on stealth and kind of puzzle elements with all the climbing etc, it kinda reminds me a bit of portal compared to half-life if that makes sense (and if those references aren't so hopelesly outdated that you have no idea what i'm referring to lmao)

[birdmorningsolutions]

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