#might add more if i dig something up

[ncwhereman]

spanish holiday: a collection

Let me ask you about something else that was in the Hunter Davies book. At one point you and Brian went off to Spain. Yes. Did you… you must have... We didn’t have an affair. You never had an affair with Brian? No, not an affair. Yoko: [laughs] What were the pressures from Brian? Cyn was having a baby and the holiday was planned, but I wasn’t going to break the holiday for a baby and that’s what a bastard I was. And I just went on holiday. I watched Brian picking up the boys. I like playing a bit faggy, all that. Yoko: [laughs] It was enjoyable, but there were big rumours in Liverpool, it was terrible. Very embarrassing. Rumors about you and Brian? Oh, fuck knows—yes, yes. I was pretty close to Brian because if somebody's going to manage me, I want to know them inside out. And there was a period when he told me he was a fag and all that. I introduced him to pills, which gives me a guilt association for his death. I mean they go that way anyway. And to make him talk—to find out what he’s like. And I remember him saying, “Don’t ever throw it back in me face, that I’m a fag.” Which | didn’t. But his mother’s still hiding that. But what I hate is the way they’re all attacking Allen. And Brian was a nice guy, but he knew what he was doing, he robbed us. He fucking took all the money and looked after himself and his family, and all that. And it’s just a myth. I hate the way that Allen is attacked and Brian is made like an angel, just cause he’s dead. He wasn't, he was just a guy. Allen will go berserk when he hears all this.

John Lennon, Jann S. Wenner, Lennon Remembers, 1970

Bob had insinuated that me and Brian had had an affair in Spain. And I must have been frightened of the fag in me to get so angry.

John Lennon, 1972, Peter McCabe and Robert D Schonfeld, John Lennon—For The Record, 1984

Brian was in love with me. It's irrelevant. I mean, it's interesting and it will make a nice Hollywood Babylon someday about Brian Epstein’s sex life, but it's irrelevant, absolutely irrelevant.

John Lennon, Playboy, 1980

I was on holiday with Brian Epstein in Spain, where the rumours went around that he and I were having a love affair. Well, it was almost a love affair, but not quite. It was never consummated. But it was a pretty intense relationship. It was my first experience with a homosexual that I was conscious was homosexual. He had admitted it to me. We had this holiday together because Cyn was pregnant, and I went to Spain and there were lots of funny stories. We used to sit in a cafe in Torremolinos looking at all the boys and I’d say, ‘Do you like that one, do you like this one?’ I was rather enjoying the experience, thinking like a writer all the time: I am experiencing this, you know. And while he was out on the tiles one night, or lying asleep with a hangover one afternoon, I remember playing him the song Bad To Me. That was a commissioned song, done for Billy J Kramer, who was another of Brian’s singers.

John Lennon, Rolling Stone, 1980

Very quickly John became jumpy and on edge. He was beginning to feel trapped and it was time for him to escape but before he left he told me that Brian had asked him to go on holiday to Spain with him and he wanted to know if I objected. I must admit the request hit me like a bolt out of the blue and I really didn’t take it in properly at first but when it sank in I suppressed my true feelings and acquiesced. I was well aware that John deserved a holiday. He had just completed a tour and recording sessions. In actual fact he had never really had a holiday as such. They had all been working very hard and under great pressure since the success of Please Please Me, so I concealed my hurt and envy and gave him my blessings. He was delighted and left me a happy man. I on the other hand was left holding the baby, and what a baby. As soon as John returned from his break in Spain, fully relaxed and raring to get going again, we went together to register our son’s birth.

Cynthia Lennon, A Twist Of Lennon, 1978

Some accounts of that time claim that Brian was in love with John, which was why he wanted to manage the Beatles. I don't believe this for a second. They had a good relationship, but Brian cared for all the boys and he wanted success for the group because he thought they had something unique. Claims have been made since that Brian and John had a gay relationship. Nothing could be further from the truth. John was a hundred per cent heterosexual and, like most lads at that time, horrified by the idea of homosexuality. The bond between John and Brian was one of mutual respect and friendship. They liked and admired each other. Brian could see John's intelligence and distinctive talent. John appreciated Brian's business ability and his ambition for the group. They talked for hours and planned the group's future together. They both wanted the Beatles to be the biggest thing since Elvis, and were hell bent on making it happen.

When Julian was three weeks old, Brian invited John to go to Spain with him. John asked if I'd mind and I said, truthfully, that I wouldn't. I was preoccupied with Julian and nowhere near ready to travel, but I knew how much John needed a break where he wouldn't be recognised and could really relax. I gave them my blessing and they went off together for twelve days. It was a holiday John came to regret because it sparked off a string of rumours about his relationship with Brian. He had to put up with sly digs, winks and innuendo that he was secretly gay. It infuriated him: all he'd wanted was a break with a friend, but it was turned into so much more.

Cynthia Lennon, John, 2005

Brian and John spent so much time together, scheming and dreaming about the Beatles' future, that they seemed almost inseparable. In April 1963, John went so far as to accompany Brian on a holiday in Spain, leaving Cyn behind with their newborn son. In the absence of this decidedly odd couple, tongues began wagging all over town. I visited John at Aunt Mimi's a few days after his return to England. And when he started in about how much he had enjoyed Spain, I could hardly resist taking the piss out of him. "So you had a good time with Brian, then?" I smirked. Nudge nudge, wink wink. I was somewhat taken aback when John didn't so much as crack a smile. "Oh, fuckin' hell," he groaned. "Not you as well, Pete!" "What do you mean, not me as well?" "They're all fucking going on about it." "It's O.K., John. Don't take it so serious. I'm just joking, for Christ's sake." "Actually Pete," he said softly, "Something did happen with him one night." Now that wiped the grin right off my face. Had I even dreamed there might be any truth what soever to the rumors, I would never have made light of the subject in the first place. Still— as John surely knew— I would have stood by him, and let the rest of the world handle the business of passing moral judgment, even if he had just told me he'd committed murder. And John would surely have done the same for me. Which, after all, is what true friendship is all about. "What happened," John explained, "is that Eppy just kept on and on at me. Until one night I finally just pulled me trousers down and said to him: 'Oh, for Christ's sake, Brian, just stick it up me fucking arse then.' "And he said to me, 'Actually, John, I don't do that kind of thing. That's not what I like to do.' "'Well,' I said, 'what is it you want to do, then?' "And he said, 'I'd really just like to touch you, John.' "And so I let him toss me off." And that was that. End of story. "That's all, John?" I said. "Well, so what? What's the big fucking deal, then?" "Yeah, so fucking what! The poor bastard. He's having a fucking hard enough time anyway." This was in reference to the "butch" dockers who, on several recent occasions, had rewarded Brian's advances by beating him to a bloody pulp. "So what harm did it do, then, Pete, for fuck's sake?" John asked rhetorically. "No harm at all. The poor fucking bastard, he can't help the way he is." "No need to get so worked up," I said. "You know I don't give a shit. What's a fucking wank between friends anyway?" We then moved on to other topics, and neither of us ever mentioned the incident again. (And as far as I was concerned, the real revelation that night was not that John had "had it off" with Brian, but that he had demonstrated— albeit in his own brusque way—such genuine compassion for that most hopelessly besotted of all his many admirers.) Unfortunately, certain Liverpool acquaintances (who had no way of knowing that there was a kernel of truth to their allegations) wouldn't let John hear the end of it. All in good fun, no doubt, but John was still too enamored of his macho self-image to take lightly any inference that he was anything less than 100 percent heterosexual.

Pete Shotton, Nicholas Schaffner, John Lennon: In My Life, 1983

John told me he had had a one-night stand with Brian, on a holiday with him in Spain, when Brian had invited him out, a few days after the birth of Julian in 1963, leaving Cyn alone. I mentioned this brief holiday in the book, but not what John had alleged had taken place. Partly, I didn't really believe it, though John was daft enough to try almost anything once. John was certainly not homosexual, and this boast, or lie, would have given the wrong impression. It was also not fair on Cynthia, his then wife.

Hunter Davies, The Beatles: The Authorised Biography (updated edition, 2010)

Almost three weeks after the birth of his son—whom he had seen only a couple of times by then—he agreed to go to Spain with Brian on a private holiday, while the other three Beatles flew to the Canaries for their spring break. I don’t think John told Cynthia what he was doing—he rarely told her anything—and he certainly wouldn’t have asked her permission. When she found out, she dissolved in tears, but she was scared of John and said nothing. To say we were astonished is an understatement. Much has been made of this trip. It was sun, sand and sea—but was it also sex? John himself said he finally allowed Brian to make love to him “to get it out of the way.” Those who knew John well, who had known him for years, don’t believe it for a moment. John was aggressively heterosexual and had never given a hint that he was anything but. If it had been George, we might have believed it. George could act camp and had many homosexual friends, but John loved to say things to shock, and his sly statement was probably just another in a long line of such provocative statements. In fact, it was more in character for John to taunt Brian with promises during those long hot nights in Barcelona than to succumb. Equally, it was in Brian’s masochistic nature to enjoy being tormented, then perhaps to rush off in search of a young bullfighter. Brian adored bullfighters so much, he ended up sponsoring one. (And I think Brian would have confided in somebody if it had happened.)

Tony Bramwell, Magical Mystery Tours: My Life With The Beatles, 2014

First, he wanted to make Brian the baby’s godfather. Second, he was leaving on holiday as soon as this tour was over. He was going away with Brian—just the two of them. The other Beatles were going to the Canary Islands. This meant John wouldn’t see Cynthia for several weeks, long after she had returned home from the hospital. Cynthia lay back in the hospital bed, her head spinning. How could John go off and leave her and Julian like that, she demanded, and with Brian Epstein no less? John flared up at her. “Being selfish again, aren’t you?” he said. “I’ve been workin’ my bloody ass off on one-night stands for months now. Those people starin’ from the other side of the glass are bloody everywhere, hauntin’ me. I deserve a vacation. And anyway, Brian wants me to go, and I owe it to the poor guy. Who else does he have to go away with?” Brian and John went to Barcelona at the end of April 1963. It was a city that Brian had explored on his 1959 solo trip to Spain. He had since become a great fan of the bullfights and considered himself something of an aficionado. He took great pleasure in introducing John to the pageantry and excitement. They spent the days shopping and taking side trips. At night they toured the nightclubs. Later in the week they rented a car and drove down the coast to the glistening white town of Sitges on the Costa Brava. Each night they would sit in the candlelit cafés and watch the couples stroll by in the moonlight. Over many bottles of wine they talked candidly about Brian’s personal life. It was a great relief for Brian to finally be able to talk honestly with John. He told John that for a man who valued honesty as dearly as he did, it was a terrible burden for him to live his life a lie. “If you had a choice, Eppy,” John said, “if you could press a button and be hetero, would you do it?” Brian thought for a moment. “Strangely, no,” he said. A little later a peculiar game developed. John would point out some passing man to Brian, and Brian would explain to him what it was about the fellow that he found attractive or unattractive. “I was rather enjoying the experience,” John said, “thinking like a writer all the time: I am experiencing this.” And still later, back in their hotel suite, drunk and sleepy from the sweet Spanish wine, Brian and John undressed in silence. “It’s okay, Eppy,” John said, and lay down on his bed. Brian would have liked to have hugged him, but he was afraid. Instead, John lay there, tentative and still, and Brian fulfilled the fantasies he was so sure would bring him contentment, only to awake the next morning as hollow as before.

Peter Brown, The Love You Make, 1983 can't wait for the full fic on ao3 peter!

One story the Press certainly didn’t get at the time was that in April, in the middle of the euphoria that followed all the early success and acclaim, Brian and John went off to Spain for a holiday. So much invention and rubbish has been made of this trip by so many people since, that the truth deserves at least a brief mention. The most sensational version, of course, is that the holiday was a chance for Brian to consummate his overwhelming passion for John, which inspired him to sign the group in the first place. I’m afraid it wasn’t like that. John roared with laughter at the rumours that began afterwards. Typically, he encouraged the stories that he and Brian were gay lovers because he thought it was funny and John was one of the world’s great wind-up merchants. He told me afterwards in one of our frankest heart-to-hearts that Brian never seriously did proposition him. He had teased Brian about the young men he kept gazing at and the odd ones who had found their way to his room. Brian had joked to John about the women who hurled themselves at him. ‘If he’d asked me, I probably would have done anything he wanted. I was so much in awe of Brian then I’d have tried a night of vice-versa. But he never wanted me like that. Sure, I took the mickey a bit and pretended to lead him on. But we both knew we were joking. He wanted a pal he could have a laugh with and someone he could teach about life. I thought his bum boys were creeps and Brian knew that. Even completely out of my head, I couldn’t shag a bloke. And I certainly couldn’t lie there and let one shag me. Even a nice guy like Brian. To be honest, the thought of it turns me over.’ All the same, John was very selfish to have gone off on holiday with Brian then because it was just after Cynthia had given birth to his son Julian. John’s whole romance and marriage to Cynthia was kept a secret at the time because Brian feared the effect of publicity about one of the Beatles having a wife, let alone a family.

Alistair Taylor, With The Beatles, 2003

While Brian thought a Beatle’s image could be affected by marriage and fatherhood, his next move proved wildly indiscreet and potentially dangerous. On April 8, 1963, Cynthia gave birth to Julian, and Brian was named his godfather. Shortly afterward, Brian invited John to join him alone on a holiday in Spain. Lennon had been working hard, writing songs and touring Britain. He needed a rest, and Cynthia relished some time alone to adapt to life with a baby. John accepted and flew to Barcelona on April 28 for the twelve-day break. John made it clear to everyone that he was a woman-chaser, a hundred percent heterosexual. But it was inept of Epstein to risk the whispering that was bound to ensue from such an expedition by a manager and a solitary Beatle. It was one of the few times when Brian’s perception of public opinion faltered, for the Spanish trip fueled rumors in Liverpool of an Epstein-Lennon relationship. Paul McCartney’s theory is that “John, not being stupid, saw his opportunity to impress upon Mr. Epstein who was the boss of this group … he wanted Brian to know who he should listen to.” Lennon knew that Brian held him in awe, regarding him as a genius. On their return to Liverpool, Brian and John decided to deal with the gossip decisively. At McCartney’s twenty-first birthday party on June 18, Bob Wooler and Lennon were seen chatting together and within minutes the Beatle had pummeled the Cavern compere to the ground. “He called me a bloody queer, so I bashed his ribs in,” John later told Cynthia. Epstein, no less angry but sensing the need for repairing all wounds, physical and oral, drove Wooler to hospital for treatment of torn knuckles and for shock. Next, Epstein moved swiftly to prevent the friction from escalating. Through his solicitor friend Rex Makin he paid Wooler £200 in damages and insisted that Lennon sent him a telegram of apology. The rumors were quelled. But nothing could prevent the attack on Wooler from reaching the Daily Mirror, whose pop reporter Don Short, in a first recognition of the group’s burgeoning importance, published a back-page story headlined: “Beatle in Brawl Says: Sorry I Socked You.” Since the deaths of Epstein and Lennon, many with no access to, or observation of, both men in their lifetime have peddled the assumption that Brian and John had a sexual liaison. This is despite the lack of any evidence, despite firm declarations of John’s heterosexuality from Cynthia and many other women, and despite the statement by McCartney that he “slept in a million hotel rooms, as we all did, with John and there was never any hint that he was gay.” Brian possibly had a homosexual fascination for Lennon but it could never be reciprocated. And since Epstein was not a predator, that eliminated the likelihood of such a link. More than anyone, Epstein saw the Beatles as an indivisible unit. He would never have risked so profoundly changing his relationship with them, individually or collectively. Nothing mattered more to Brian, after his devotion to his family, than the entity of the Beatles.

Ray Coleman, The Man Who Made The Beatles, 1989

Years later, John finally came clean about what had happened: not to anyone who’d been around at the time, but to the unshockable woman with whom he shared the last decade of his life. He said that one night during the trip, Brian had cast aside shyness and scruples and finally come on to him, but that he’d replied, “If you feel like that, go out and find a hustler.” Afterward, he had deliberately fed Pete Shotton the myth of his brief surrender, so that everyone would believe his power over Brian to be absolute.

Norman Philip, John Lennon: The Life, 2008

I don’t actually know the truth of the John rumour. I suspected that the John trip to Barcelona was a power play on John’s part because John was a very political animal. I think John went away on that Spanish holiday because nobody went on holiday. I would have gone, anyone would have gone. A free holiday? You’re kidding. I’m there. Number two, I’m sure John took Brian aside and said, ‘Hey, you want to deal with this group, I’m the guy you deal with, OK.’ John was that kind of guy. He was a very sensible, very pragmatic guy. So I’m sure that was the main reason John went there. As to whether there was any sort of gay dalliance or whatever, I don’t know. All I can ever say about it is that I slept with John a lot because you had to, you didn’t have more than one bed – and to my knowledge John was never gay.

Paul McCartney, Debbie Geller, In My Life: The Brian Epstein Story, 2000

Brian Epstein was going on holiday to Spain at the same time and he invited John along. John was a smart cookie. Brian was gay, and John saw his opportunity to impress upon Mr Epstein who was the boss of this group. | think that's why he went on holiday with Brian. And good luck to him, too — he was that kind of guy; he wanted Brian to know whom he should listen to. That was the relationship. John was very much the leader in that way, although it was never actually said. So there was the homosexual thing — I'm not sure John did anything but we certainly gave him a lot of grief when he got back.

Paul McCartney, The Beatles Anthology, 2000

My sense of the trip to Barcelona is that it was an intriguing situation because John left his wife to go on this holiday, who was still in hospital having given birth to her first child. So it was an extraordinary thing, but John wanted to go on holiday with Brian and there was a great bond between them. John knew that Brian was going and he also knew that Brian was very attracted to him and I think this intrigued John. My understanding only comes from Brian. I never discussed this with John but I heard that there were lots of discussions about the business of homosexuality and Brian’s homosexuality. But I think it’s wrong to discuss something which is really rather significant when I only know one side of the picture.

Peter Brown, Debbie Geller, In My Life: The Brian Epstein Story, 2000

It had nothing to do with advancement of career. John knew that he already had Brian as an ally; he knew that Brian liked him, was attracted to him and stimulated by his intellect. Anyway, I don’t believe John was that manipulative. And the idea of going along with it, and trying to take advantage of it, just wouldn’t have been Brian’s way.

Peter Brown, Norman Philip, John Lennon: The Life, 2008

It was during the same discussion that he told me that he and John Lennon had been lovers. Now that’s too much for me to take on. We’d never talked about his personal life before, so I left the room.

Lonnie Trimble, Debbie Geller, In My Life: The Brian Epstein Story, 2000

[mars-is-me7]

man, i have so many thoughts about qfoolish. he's just a silly little goofy guy but then when you peel away the first layer that you see of him and realize that he's rather a complex character. I feel like he's such a different type of character than what is usually shown. (and honestly, it's something that brings me a lot of comfort as i relate quite heavily to his very laid back nature that people will sometimes take as being unserious or even uncaring) Warning, this gets long (like 2.2k long to be exact) lol and i ramble a lot- also, disclaimer for my own sanity: this is an analysis of the characters! i adore any of the creatures mentioned here so please don't take any of this as a negative view on them! :D

Foolish's motivations are just very different than what typically motivates a character forward and in some sense it's really easy to skew what you think about him. As in, it's really easy to misinterpret his character i think. He express himself in a different way than i think most people are used to. He laughs in serious situations and is constantly just joking around. I think this causes people to think he cant/wont ever be serious, but the thing is that he's perfectly capable of being serious when he needs to be. For example, if he thinks that he and Leo are going into a serious situation, then he tells her to put her armor on. Really, just anything involving Leo he makes sure to be serious if the situation calls for it. Or like, fighting in dungeons only if he deems it dangerous enough to take seriously. but like, if he doesn't think a situation calls for it, then he just continues to be his goofy self. And sometimes when the situation calls for it, he is just in between those two points in a way that others aren't. He's just not afraid to joke around even when the situation seems dire (cellbit's kidnapping and rescue comes to mind. like, he played such a large role with his symmetry wand, but despite all the serious moments going on,, he was still just a goofy guy).

And one thing about him being so silly all the time is that even the other members on the island sometimes get a misconstrued picture of what they think foolish's goal and wants are. I think in some sense it's true to say that what motivates his wants is what the value of something he perceives is. For example, the sunbird he only wanted because of how cool it sounded and how rare it was. The cloud he wants because its something unique and useful. He wants Cucurucho's friendship because that's something no one else has and Cucurucho has access to items and is powerful.

But these wants aren't the most necessarily the most important things to him. Their something he has interest in, yes, but they're not more important than say his friends and family. Which, i feel like some people might not recognize about him. After all, he is constantly talking about wanting a cloud or how he'd have no issue in killing Bad (and holy shit is landduo and their relation something i could go on about for a whole more hour cuz there's so much there)

Because one vital thing that's so *so* important to recognize is that Foolish is very possibly one of the most loyal people on the island. And despite all of his flaws, he would never really want to truly hurt those he cares about. He is loyal to the people he cares about to an absurd amount. I think it's very clear to see his devotion for Vegetta and his adoration for Leo, but his loyalty also applies to his friends on the island. He would never *intentionally* want to harm anyone he cares about. I don't think some people understand that Mr. Mustard fell under that category as someone he cared about. The entire reason Cucurucho was able to lure him into accepting the mission It gave him is because it brought Mr. Mustard's name into the mix. It told Foolish that Pac and Mike were the ones responsible, and with nothing better to do, Foolish set out to complete this task.

To talk more about the recent events with him arresting Tazercraft: he would never truly want to harm or hurt them. However, when you're looking at the grand scheme of how things went down, he was manipulated and really had no other choice. Sure, he seemed to enjoy arresting them at first, but the thing is I don't think he really processed or even thought about how this action would be received by others. To him, arresting Pac and Mike sounded like enough fun, and it was coming from Cucurucho (who he's wanting to be friends with for actual months now, and Cucurucho literally called him friend in the book it handed to him) and being arrested sounded like something he'd enjoy. Again, like something *he'd* enjoy and that he therefore thought Pac and Mike would enjoy.

You have to realize, Foolish doesn't have the same perspective on these serious situations as some others do. And the thing is that he judges how others react based on how he would react to them. So, in that sense, he views being kidnapped/arrested as a good and fun thing! he even said today on stream, "apparently when you arrest someone, others won't find it funny". it might have just been one line, but in my eyes this gives a really clear insight into his character. To him, arresting Pac and Mike was only a positive thing because it would help him find his friend and it could be a fun event for them. His friend that he was told, by cucurucho, that had disappeared because of Pac and Mike. Foolish doesn't hold any ill intent, but that doesn't necessarily come across in others view of him. Although it might not be clear, he cares about Pac and Mike. Today he even expressed worries about them and said that he still considers them his friends (even though he's aware that they might not share those feelings about him anymore). He doesn't know about their past traumas, to him this was just a fun little event that would be fun for both them and him. When first accepting Cucurucho's mission to him, I'd say he doesn't realize the consequences his actions would have. That by arresting Pac and Mike, it'd leave the other members of the server doubting him and mistrusting him. That others would be angry at him for something that he hadn't realized the gravity of.

(just random thing i want to say here: honestly, if Foolish had any malicious intent towards Tazercraft, he could have easily made their arrest go unnoticed for at least a few days. just think about it: if he had said that the surprise he had was just for the two of them. if Jaiden hadn't accompanied them as a witness. people wouldn't of known then what happened to them, but the thing is that he wasn't thinking in this way because he would never seriously want to harm them. he even wanted Jaiden there as a witness)

I think he realized the backlash of his actions in the Favela when everyone seemed to swarm him and then when he got interrogated. In which, he never really lied. All things considered, Foolish is a rather honest guy. I'd even say that he almost never lies. Like, if he's trying to hide the truth about something, he often times will find a way to skirt around the question without lying. Like, just looking at the mess that was the interrogation yesterday (/lh) you can see that he doesn't ever actually lie. He just blabbers a bunch of nonsense and skirts around the issue without ever revealing anything. The issue arises when you look at the lie he did tell.

for those that don't know, Foolish gave Jaiden a rundown of what happened before arresting Tazercraft. and in this he tells her that Cucurucho gave him the option to either 'arrest Pac and Mike' or to 'kill Richarlyson'. Not even going to lie, when he said this is took me (and i think all of stream) off guard. because Foolish practically never lies in that way and so blatantly. because this was just 100% untrue. However, it makes sense why he did it. At that point, he realized that people were going to keep badgering him on why he arrested Pac and Mike, but at the same time he knew they wouldn't take him telling the truth seriously. He may care about Mr. Mustard but the truth is that the other members don't hold those same thoughts towards most the Capybaras in general. Like, just look at Fit's interaction with him today. Foolish literally reiterated the truth of why he did it over and over again, but Fit didn't believe him even slightly. Foolish didn't lie once about his motivations and yet he was just not believed.

I think he realized at some point soon after arresting Pac and Mike that people weren't going to trust the truth. Not from his mouth at least. So he lied to Jaiden because it's a lie that people will easily understand. it's a choice they'd stop questioning him about. Again, he doesn't do this out of malicious intent but because it's something easier for people to understand and relate to. It's something they're not going to hound him about, not like they will when he tells them the truth. This lie is more easily digestible for the island members and it also brings Foolish less stress if they take this and believe it. Everyone is willing to make sacrifices in order to protect the eggs. And he had to of realized that Jaiden was going to tell other people. The islanders almost always spread these types of details to each other, that's just how it goes. Telling this lie to her in secret makes it all that more believable when she goes and tells some of the others about it later cuz it's something Foolish told her in confidentiality. To the other members, it paints foolish only in a good light. Of course he wouldn't have actually wanted to arrest Pac and Mike, he did it to protect Richas! and that's all it takes to stop them from getting angry at him. All things considered, it's a smart move to pull. Although, I do have to wonder how this will come to bite foolish in the butt. Because i can only imagine that it will be revealed eventually, some way or another.

From what i understood, Cellbit immediately dropped his anger on Foolish once he was told it was to protect Richarlyson. When Jaiden tells him this information he doesn't even thing to consider that Foolish could have lied. After all, why reason would anyone have to lie about that? In my mind, i can only imagine that the lie will protect him for now and in the short term, but once revealed that it's a lie, i think there will be some repercussions against Foolish for sure. Like, even Jaiden doesn't know that he's lied. Jaiden, whom he's been telling everything about. Jaiden who is only one (aside from Leo) who now knows of Foolish's secret detective role. Jaiden, whose the one he's told almost the entire truth to.

An interesting thing to note though, is that I think Foolish's decision to lie to Jaiden was still rather spontaneous. like, it's not something he thought too much about. it's a fib that makes his life a little bit easier (a little bit less lonely) and right now it doesn't seem to hold any repercussions. the interesting thing, though, is that he hasn't repeated the lie at any point in time. and like, he also hasn't done any lying to reinforce the lie he's told. it'd be so easy to paint a story that he's being blackmailed, but he just *doesn't* even though it's a lie he's made himself.

Foolish, all in all, is someone that just acts or speaks before really thinking too much about what he's doing. About the possible side affects of his actions. He just *does* them.

I think it also plays in very well with the idea that he's lived for thousands of years. the things that affect the typical mortal just don't phase him in the same way, not when he's viewing everything as an adventure or an element that is fun. i think that also taking into consideration that he's lived for such a long time, it's rather surprising how easy he is to manipulate. Because that is what Cucucrucho is doing, when looking at the whole picture. cucurucho holds a lot of power and we all know that it easily could have arrested Pac and Mike without the intervention of Foolish. So why make him do it anyways?

Well we don't know that for sure, but we can make some guesses. To sow distrust between the members. To see how far Foolish was actually able and willing to go for the Federation. To place blame on someone aside from itself. All possibilities.

Regardless, Foolish has played right into their hands. He's a silly guy that's gotten himself into a serious situation. One in which he might end up having to navigate alone because even though he has Jaiden he's still lied to her, and even though he has Leo, he would never want to put his daughter into harms way. He said something at the end of the stream about how this might just end up being a lonely road he's taking and i couldn't agree more.

Anyways, that's all i got for tonight as it's late and idk what im getting at here, i just think Foolish is really neat and wanted to attempt to put that into words. :D

[eyeballs-in-my-head]

Crying sobbing cringing at my older self (/nm), I found an old scrapped creepypasta fanfiction of mine I wrote in a notebook (before I discovered Wattpad)

I wrote it when I was like 13 lmao, and I hate the fact that I don't think I'd be able to write something in this quality at my adult ass age

Teach me, little 13 year old me...how are you so cool?! Teach me how to be as cringe as you!!! Aaaaaaa

[fxrheisenn]

Andrus Laansalu talked about making Disco Elysium at EKA (Estonian Academy of Arts)

"Initially, the church wasn't a focal point. There were certain characters that needed to visit this location, and I asked, "Seriously, what do we have in our church?" The others replied, "Nothing at all. Our church is completely bare—just a wheel, really. It's quite basic."

That's when I decided to unleash my creativity in the design. For example, they chose to install a glass structure at the top of the church to create a reflective surface. It was like placing an optical clock up there. Therefore, one of the most crucial aspects of designing the church was ensuring the lighting was just right to create the desired atmosphere."

"Let me show you an example of Baroque architecture, which is rich in detail. We're also designing the interior of the church based on large cathedrals. However, the foundation you use might not yield the expected results, because the church itself doesn't require such intricate details. Sometimes, it's about simplifying the design."

"I used Articy for the initial scriptwriting of Disco Elysium. The image only represents a tiny fraction of the text and choice variables involved. This system was also the reason I eventually abandoned the project after a year of outlining the script and shifted my focus to becoming a sound designer. My mind struggled to keep up with the dynamic graphic rules, but fortunately, a more talented writer took over afterward."

"In terms of sound design, it's essential to develop different layers to bring out the charm of the church as a cohesive space. Although this represents only a small portion of the overall design, each layer actually requires a significant amount of time to compose the whole....... Whenever there's a shift or a change due to the dialogue itself, you need to adjust the background sounds. Each time you modify the details in the dialogue, I have to refine the background audio, ensuring that these elements build upon each other like an intricate layer of work."

"It's funny how many scenes involve characters getting smacked in the face. My job was to recreate those, so I locked myself in the bathroom with a recorder and hit my forehead until it turned red.

As a sound designer, I really dig those unsettling, drill-like sounds. So, I mixed in creepy lectures, metal scraping, moans, and cries of pain—because I just love that stuff! (laughs)

Players will be moving through all kinds of areas, so it's super important to make the sound transitions feel natural, trying to create a more immersive vibe in certain spaces.

With all the scenes featuring big cranes, you can hear them from far away, and I wanted to capture that eerie ringing in your ears. That's going to be a thing throughout most of the game. I've found ways to really mess with players while they're playing!"

"I've come across a lot of old objects (like phones and radios) that I needed to perfectly replicate the sounds. I started to become a bit of a hoarder, buying up different models of old phones whenever I found one to add to my collection. The sound effects I can simulate from them are really impressive."

"Some of the devices don't actually exist in real life—just a mix of architecture and tech. When I need to create sound effects, I first look for something similar that exists in our world, then I try to simulate what the sound and appearance of that thing might have been like a century ago.

Towards the end of the game, there's a character carrying a fuel canister. We needed the sound of the canister, so we dug one up from our garage—it had been sitting there since it was five! I realized this would make the sound perfect. So, it had been there for 50 years, and after 40 years, it finally found its purpose.

In some places, I needed unique sound waves, and recreating them was a real headache until one day I happened to walk by a swimming pool and stumbled upon an old wartime torpedo. You can rotate the torpedo's probe, and it slowly rises up, like a proud zombie head. The sounds it made were exactly what I needed!"

🙋How did you manage to get funding?

"Well, since we're in Estonia, you just need to know a wealthy person. You don't need five people—just two who can network, hang out together, and convince them to keep investing! (laughs) Back then, we constantly ran out of money and would tell them, 'Oops, looks like we spent it all! Can you invest a bit more?' That's how we made it through!"

🙋How did you all come together to make the game?

"Luck. It usually doesn't happen this way, and that's the key difference. It has to be. If not, you couldn't create a game of this scale - well, I mean in terms of budget. But creatively, Estonia definitely has writers and artists who can pull it off. With such a small population, there are a lot of quirky folks who are good friends. We were really lucky, though - lots of fortunate circumstances came together. It brought the right people together, allowing those talented fools to collaborate with us. They had experience but hadn't tackled projects of this magnitude before. So yeah, luck is pretty important!"

Lecture experience shared by 白兔YIYANG SUN on 小红书, reposted & translated by me with her permission.

[euthymiya]

“What’s got you so grumpy?”

Sukuna dodges your finger. It fails to meet its destination of his cheek as he tilts his head to the side, earning a frown from you before you huff and try again.

He looks up from his phone with an irritated glance when your fingertip digs into his face.

“What are you talking about?” He grunts.

He knows exactly what you’re talking about. Normal Sukuna is irritable enough—grumpy Sukuna is about as bad tempered as a hornet who’s had its nest kicked. (Which is to say: he’s pretty fucking unfriendly at the moment.)

“You’re sulking,” you point out—and that statement earns a sharp glare from him as you seat yourself on his lap. (Still, he makes room easily for you, leaning back on the couch and putting his phone down to the side so his hands can rest on your hips. Grumpy Sukuna is never grumpy enough to push your body away—if anything, it’s the one way to get him less agitated).

“I’m not fucking sulking,” he says. It’s almost petulant, but you have enough grace to spare his dignity and not point it out. “I don’t sulk.”

“Are you sure?” You raise a disbelieving brow—he clicks his teeth at the way you choose to question him, but it softens considerably when your lips peck his jaw delicately. “You look pretty sulky to me.”

“Get your eyes checked.”

“Can’t. Then I might see you for all your ugliness. We wouldn’t want to throw years down the drain once I come to my senses do we?”

It’s his turn to raise a brow, sarcastically snorting as you give him a cheeky wink. “If you wanna try ‘n be a smart ass, at least be realistic about it. Saw you checking me out just this morning through the mirror.”

“Maybe you need your eyes checked,” you huff, “I was not checking you out.”

“Pretty sure you were,” he smirks, lips pulling into a haughty grin. Getting under your skin with his smugness is about the only way to cheer him up, it seems, because he looks rather pleased when he adds, “it’s okay. Don’t blame ya for bein’ possessed by my impressive physique.”

“Too bad your personality isn’t as dazzling,” you quip back easily.

It’s meant to be lighthearted, of course—but it seems to be the wrong thing to say. Quite wrong, in fact, because as soon as the words escape you, he tenses before locking his jaw.

There’s a flash of something in his eyes. Something you don’t think you’ve ever seen in Sukuna’s face—doubt. It’s a little odd, in all realness. Sukuna is not a doubtful person. He’s confident, and he’s confident enough that it’s almost to a fault. He’s cocky and smug and sometimes a little too self-assured for it to be considered good for his health.

It’s a bit unsettling to see his face almost fall at something you say, especially when you just say it for the sake of light banter.

“Yeah?” He chuckles dryly. It sounds dangerously self-deprecating—enough that it makes you frown. “Good thing I have my abs to keep you glued to my side then, huh?”

“Well, it’s not just your abs,” you hum, one hand smoothing over his shirt to feel the ridges of his muscles through the shirt. “Your boobs are pretty great, too.”

To prove your point, you give his left pectoral a gentle squeeze. He scowls before shoving your hand away as blush creeps along the back of his neck.

“You fucking freak,” he mutters.

Something is bothering him. You know you can’t directly ask it out of him, otherwise he’ll deny it left and right, but something is bothering him. Sukuna is not good with words or emotions. In fact, he’s pretty awful at anything that has to do with anyone’s feelings. (He’s better about yours more than other’s, but he’s pretty far from good.)

You don’t mind. There’s something oddly charming about witnessing the way he navigates softening up for you—it’s like watching a baby take their first steps. Wobbly. Slow. Unsure. Pretty badly executed, but endearingly rewarding all at the same.

Except, this time, it’s not your emotions he’s navigating. For some reason, yours are easy than his own. Navigating yours means he doesn’t have to try. He knows you better than he knows himself. Knows when your feelings are hurt by the twitch of your brows alone. Knows you’re sad by the dimness in your eyes. Knows you’re pretending joy when your laugh is quieter than usual. Knows you’re faking it when your smile is a much more tight lipped and a less bright version.

But his own feelings are complicated. A lot more than he cares to try and understand them for. In true Sukuna fashion, he always aims to ignore his problems until they seemingly disappear.

But you’re too difficult to let that slide. He brushes things under the rug, and you pull the rug from under his feet and make him fall face first into his problems.

“Hey,” you nudge him, cupping his face with your hand gently, “what’s gotten into you? It’s weird when you’re not pissing me off a couple of times every hour.”

“And that’s supposed to be a good thing?” He challenges, like your words seem to tick him off more, “what are you sittin’ here for if I’m always pissing you off?”

Oh, you think. So that’s what it is.

You smile, humming before you gently tilt his face up. Something vulnerable is attached to that frown of his. Like he’s waiting for your answer because he needs something to hold onto. Some metaphorical lifeline where your feelings are attached to his own, just to keep you chained together. Where you’re always somewhere that he also is. Where he doesn’t have to care about his emotions because what you feel is what he feels, too, and as long as you’re okay, so is he.

But you care. You seem to care a pretty great deal because you lean in and brush your nose against his as you kiss his lips softly.

“Who cares if you piss me off?” You snort, “I piss you off better. I’m pretty good at it.”

“You are,” he agrees instantly.

You give him a fleeting huff against his mouth as you mumble, “you don’t have to agree so fast.”

It pulls a small laugh from him, making his arms snake around your waist and tug your body closer. Chest to chest, heartbeat thumping in two, synchronized rhythms.

“What happens when I’m all old and expiring and my abs are gone?” He raises a brow. You hum, stroking a thumb along his cheek as you smile and admire him.

“We’ll still be pissing each other off, I bet.”

“That’s supposed to be good?” He repeats, this time much more unsure. Anyone else could hardly catch the air of hesitance in his words, but you catch it instantly.

“Why not?” You shrug, “it always worked for us, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, “that’s until it doesn’t.” He spits the words out, not meeting your eyes. It’s like they taste acrid is mouth and he can’t bring himself swallow them down.

You don’t say anything. Instead, you lean in and just press a line of kisses from his chin to the corner of his lips, purposely dodging his mouth and littering small, delicate pecks along his cheek. And then his forehead. And then the bridge of his nose.

Never his lips, though. And he gets increasingly frustrated by it.

“What are you waiting for?” He grumbles, eyeing you with a look that screams: quit fucking around.

You fight back an amused smile. “Does it piss you off?”

“Course it does. Kiss me properly or back off my face—”

“Cause you love me right?” You ask cheekily. He pauses, thinking on it for a moment before slumping wearily.

“And if I do?”

“You piss me off too. Because I love you too,” you whisper, forehead against his as your hands cradle his cheeks. Because you do.

When he texts late, and makes your blood boil, it’s only because you love him. When he’s brutally honest and doesn’t say what you want to hear, you’re only mad because you care what he thinks so much. When he’s stubborn and refuses to meet you halfway, you’re only angry because there’s no one else you’d rather cross the bridge with than him.

He pisses you off. You care enough to be pissed because it’s him. And when you piss him off too, he cares enough to deal with it because it’s you.

It’s a funny, twisted little way to love and be loved, but it works. For some odd reason, it does. It’s a seamless, smooth, crackless road.

You don’t ever fix something that’s not broken.

“That doesn’t make sense,” he sighs, resigning himself to your weird, roundabout explanation. You laugh, pinching his cheek as you grin brightly.

“That’s because you’re a bit dim.”

“Yeah,” he rolls his eyes, “okay. Anything else?”

“Yeah, actually. I love you.”

He pauses. Swallows for a moment before his arms tighten their grip on your hips just a smidge before burying his face into your neck and mumbling, “me too. Love you so much, it pisses me off.”

“I like to get under your skin like that,” you stroke his hair, beaming as you add, “guess you’ll just have to deal with it.”

His lips stretch into a small grin before a low, rumbling chuckle breathes itself against your skin. “Guess so.”

————————

a/n: insecure modern! au sukuna who doesn’t admit it and refuses to acknowledge that he’s aware he’s difficult to love and can’t understand why you love him but he also doesn’t want to question it for fear of scaring you away is very near and dear to me and i’ll be talking about it from my grave still. you’ll just hear my ghostly voice spooking you through the night talking about how he’s a softie deep down under all the layers. like an ogre okay? ogres have LAYERS.

[physalian]

How to make your writing sound less stiff part 2

Part 1

Again, just suggestions that shouldn’t have to compromise your author voice, as I sit here doing my own edits for a WIP.

1. Crutch words

Specifically when you have your narrator taking an action instead of just… writing that action. Examples:

Character wonders/imagines/thinks/realizes

Character sees/smells/feels

Now not all of these need to be cut. There’s a difference between:

Elias stops. He realizes they’re going in the wrong direction.

And

Elias takes far too long to realize that it’s not horribly dark wherever they are

Crutch words are words that don’t add anything to the sentence and the sentence can carry on with the exact same meaning even if you delete it. Thus:

Elias stops. They’re going in the wrong direction.

I need a word in the second example, whether it’s realizes, understands, or notices, unless I rework the entire sentence. The “realization” is implied by the hard cut to the next sentence in the first example.

2. Creating your own “author voice”

Unless the tone of the scene demands otherwise, my writing style is very conversational. I have a lot of sentence fragments to reflect my characters’ scatterbrained thoughts. I let them be sarcastic and sassy within the narration. I leave in instances of “just” (another crutch word) when I think it helps the sentence. Example:

…but it’s just another cave to Elias.

Deleting the “just” wouldn’t hit as hard or read as dismissive and resigned.

I may be writing in 3rd person limited, but I still let the personalities of my characters flavor everything from the syntax to metaphor choices. It’s up to you how you want to write your “voice”.

I’ll let dialogue cut off narration, like:

Not that he wouldn’t. However, “You can’t expect me to believe that.”

Sure it’s ~grammatically incorrect~ but you get more leeway in fiction. This isn’t an essay written in MLA or APA format. It’s okay to break a few rules, they’re more like guidelines anyway.

3. Metaphor, allegory, and simile

There is a time and a place to abandon this and shoot straight because oftentimes you might not realize you’re using these at all. It’s the difference between:

Blinding sunlight reflects off the window sill

And

Sunlight bounces like high-beams off the window sill

It’s up to you and what best fits the scene.

Sometimes there’s more power in not being poetic, just bluntly explicit. Situations like describing a character’s battle wounds (whatever kind of battle they might be from, whether it be war or abuse) don’t need flowery prose and if your manuscript is metaphor-heavy, suddenly dropping them in a serious situation will help with the mood and tonal shift, even if your readers can’t quite pick up on why immediately.

Whatever the case is, pick a metaphor that fits the narrator. If my narrator is comparing a shade of red to something, pick a comparison that makes sense.

Red like the clouds at sunset might make sense for a character that would appreciate sunsets. It’s romantic but not sensual, it’s warm and comforting.

Red like lipstick stains on a wine glass hints at a very different image and tone.

Metaphor can also either water down the impact of something, or make it so much worse so pay attention to what you want your reader to feel when they read it. Are you trying to shield them from the horror or dig it in deep?

4. Paragraph formatting

Nothing sticks out on a page quite like a line of narrative all by itself. Abusing this tactic will lessen its effect so save single sentence paragraphs for lines you want to hammer your audiences with. Lines like romantic revelations, or shocking twists, or characters giving up, giving in. Or just a badass line that deserves a whole paragraph to itself.

I do it all the time just like this.

Your writing style might not feature a bunch of chunky paragraphs to emphasize smaller lines of text (or if you’re writing a fic on A03, the size of the screen makes many paragraphs one line), but if yours does, slapping a zinger between two beefy paragraphs helps with immersion.

5. Polysyndeton and Asyndeton

Not gibberish! These, like single-sentence paragraphs, mix up the usual flow of the narrative that are lists of concepts with or without conjunctions.

Asyndeton: We came. We saw. We conquered. It was cold, grey, lifeless.

Polysyndeton: And the birds are out and the sun is shining and it might rain later but right now I am going to enjoy the blue sky and the puffy white clouds like cotton balls. They stand and they clap and they sing.

Both are for emphasis. Asyndeton tends to be "colder" and more blunt, because the sentence is blunt. Polysyntedon tends to be more exciting, overwhelming.

We came and we saw and we conquered.

The original is rather grim. This version is almost uplifting, like it's celebrating as opposed to taunting, depending on how you look at it.

—

All of these are highly situational, but if you’re stuck, maybe try some out and see what happens.

*italicized quotes are from ENNS, the rest I made up on the spot save for the Veni Vidi Vici.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ BURNER ACCOUNTS — GOJO SATORU.

contents. fem! reader, loser ex-boyfriend! satoru, exes to lovers, college! au, satoru making burners to watch your stories, miscommunications—satoru is not perfect but he’s trying okay?, gossip icons shoko & suguru <3, i had a silly idea and it turned into 2.6k words my bad

there’s a peculiar account watching your instagram stories—@user273582838, to be exact. you don’t think it’s a very well timed coincidence seeing as you and satoru have just broken up—so you decide to do some digging. 

which of course, means enlisting the help of shoko.

“i think satoru is stalking me,” you mumble, making her pause in the middle of sipping on her energy drink—for a med student, her habits don’t seem every healthy. this is her third one of the day.

“okay,” she nods, “i wouldn’t put it past him, but what makes you say that?”

“look,” you turn your phone to face her, the blank, anonymous instagram account right there on the list of users who have viewed your story. she crinkles her brows, blinking for a moment before humming.

“that definitely seems like something he’d do,” she nods—and then, “i have an idea.”

“okay,” you brighten, nodding enthusiastically, “what’s the plan?”

“try and log in with that user.”

“shoko,” you look at her like she’s grown two heads. maybe the lack of sleep is finally getting to her—no amount of energy drinks can save her at this point. “we don’t have the password—”

“—and that, dummy,” she rolls her eyes, making you scowl at the name, “is why we click forgot my password and see the last four digits of the phone number that registered the account. if it’s satoru’s number, we’ll know.”

okay—you take it back. shoko is a genius and a full-blown brilliant mastermind that you could never hope to come close to. you’re glad you chose her to help—you’re even more glad she agreed because you would not have thought of that. this is fantastic. a fool-proof plan. 

you grin wide, eyes lighting up as you gasp, “shoko! you’re so smart, that’s a great idea!”

“i know,” she grumbles, “took you long enough to notice.”

ignoring her, you quickly pull out your phone and try to log onto the account, typing user273582838 into the username box and clicking forgot my password. shoko is hovering over your shoulder, and your breath is held as you wait for the page to load and the number to pop up. within just a few seconds, the first few digits are censored with asterisks, but the last four show, and—

yeah. it’s satoru’s fucking number. just as you suspected—you and shoko scoff together at the same time, rolling your eyes. 

“well,” you look at her, lips pursed in irritation—of course, satoru refuses to give you space and leave you alone after your break up (which was his fault, might you add), “what now?”

“send the verification code to his number,” she presses, “it’ll definitely spook him when he sees.”

she’s so good at what she does, you think in awe, staring at her with heart-eyes. nodding quickly, you press send code. 

hopefully, that’ll give satoru the heart attack you want it to.

———

satoru stares at his screen in abject horror—who could be trying to log into his burner account? the only person who should possibly stumble across it is you, but surely you’re not closely inspecting your story viewers, are you? so then, who could be trying to log onto the instagram account of @user273582838?

“suguru,” he says in a trance, “are you trying to log onto the burner?”

“are you bringing that shit up again?” suguru grumbles, controller in hand as he pays attention to the screen, “i told you that was a stupid idea. a pathetic one too—”

“well, i didn’t want to keep waiting for you to send screenshots to see the stories—”

“you’re a fucking loser, do you know that? pathetic,” suguru reiterates. “move on.”

“no,” satoru hisses in disbelief, “why would i do that? now, was that you or not? you’re the only other person who knows the user.”

“as if i care to log onto your loser burner account,” suguru snorts, shaking his head in amusement. he beats satoru’s high score, turning to give him a sly grin as he adds, “i wasn’t removed, so i can view the stories all i want.”

“you’re a jerk, you know that?” satoru grunts, crossing his arms and pouting, “i’m having the worst heartbreak of my life, and you—”

“who’s fault is it that you’re dumped?”

satoru deflates. 

okay, so he supposedly hasn’t been the best boyfriend. it’s not that satoru isn’t helplessly committed to you—he’s so sickeningly obsessed with you, it’s actually a bit unhealthy. suguru says so, at least. but satoru is…well, satoru, and he doesn’t always seem to take things as seriously as most people would hope. 

evidently, that includes your relationship—though, he does insist on disagreeing on that. according to you, he doesn’t take you on dates often enough, and sometimes he flirts back with random strangers. that’s not true—he’s simply a bit of a tease and enjoys it when you’re jealous, but he doesn’t flirt back. that’s outrageous. you’ve even claimed he’s mean about it and makes a joke out of it all—satoru would never be mean on purpose; he only teases because the banter is always endearing. 

but, unfortunately, you don’t seem to see it the way he does, and now he’s woefully single and cold and alone in bed. no cuddles, no goodnight kisses, and no head scratches. 

life is so cruel sometimes. 

“suguru,” he says in distress, “i’m serious. someone’s trying to hack my burner—who could it be?”

“hmm, i don’t know…maybe the one and only person who would notice the account in the first place?”

“but why try and log in if the password is unknown?”

suguru looks at satoru like he’s stupid—apparently, he is because he’s not putting two and two together. 

“maybe because sending a verification code shows the last four digits of the registered phone number? you’ve probably been caught, you idiot.”

satoru pales at that—he didn’t think about that. it slipped his mind completely. fuck, he should’ve used a burner email instead. he stares down at his phone numbly—yeah, he thinks, he’s screwed. 

———

after two days of continuous log in attempts into satoru’s burner account—it’s only just to spook him extra—you finally decide to confront him. 

we need to talk. is all you send him. 

the three bubbles appear on his end multiple times before disappearing—you and shoko get a good cackle out of that and laugh at him for a bit before he finally answers. 

miss me already? knew it ;)

wow. what a dickhead. 

so, because you can be equally as much of a prick, you send him a screenshot of his phone number on the log in page followed by a message that says: no. it’s so you can explain this. 

the three dots show up again for a few minutes before he finally responds with: okay. you caught me. when do you wanna meet?

well, that was easy. satoru is the type to not go down without a fight no matter how cornered he is—he’s stubborn and annoying like that. you turn to shoko for help.

“meet him now,” shoko crosses her arms, “don’t give him time to come up with some ridiculous excuse.”

“what excuse could he possibly come up with?” you snort, “that he was possessed and the evil spirit in his mind made him stalk his ex like a loser?”

“true,” she concedes, taking a sip from her energy drink—seriously, how many of these does this girl drink in a day? “i just want to know what happens,” she shrugs, “so do it now.”

of course, as on brand as ever, shoko is merely in it for the drama. you roll your eyes before sighing and nodding. 

“okay,” you huff. 

meet me at my place. now.

on my way, he sends back almost instantly. 

“he’s probably just excited to see you,” shoko snorts, “like the loser he is.”

“you’re probably right,” you purse your lips in exasperation. in all your time knowing him, you’ve definitely realized that satoru is definitely…well, a case. 

———

“hey,” shoko whispers to suguru through the phone, walking out your door so you can prepare to confront satoru. “did you know satoru’s been stalking—”

“—on a burner account? yeah, i know.”

okay, she frowns to herself, that was no fun at all. suguru is already aware of the drama. but that’s no matter—surely, he can’t possibly already know that satoru has been invited over to be scolded. 

“yeah, well,” she says smugly, “did you know he’s actually on his way over to—”

“—get yelled at? yeah, i’m aware. he called me panicked. what a fucking loser.”

“okay, well since you’re up to speed,” shoko grumbles bitterly, rolling her eyes. she was supposed to be the knight in shining armor with the juicy updates—but evidently, satoru is pathetic enough to already cry to suguru about his dilemma. “wanna meet up and get sushi nearby? i bet they’ll get back together in twenty minutes.”

“i bet ten. loser pays for the food?”

“you’ve got yourself a deal.”

———

satoru sits on your couch in shame, bouncing his leg nervously as you sit on the opposite end with your arms crossed and brow raised. 

it’s quiet. he doesn’t have the guts to say anything, waiting for you to break the silence. maybe you’re not that mad.

“so,” you start, “it’s nice to finally meet you, user273582838.”

he rubs his neck awkwardly, chuckling through his nerves as he mumbles, “oh, hey there! it’s a small world, huh?”

“satoru.”

yeah, never mind. you seem pretty mad. 

“okay, look,” he begins, “you can’t blame me. you dumped me, your sweet, loving, and unsuspecting boyfriend out of nowhere! i was heartbroken and shattered—and then you didn’t even give me a chance to work it out! i was not in the right headspace to make wise decisions so…so this is basically not my fault.”

that doesn’t seem to help his case—in fact, it only makes it worse. 

“so it’s my fault?”

“wha—no!” he says quickly, “no, definitely not.”

you sigh, rubbing your forehead in defeat as you mumble, “satoru, we are broken up for a reason. you can’t overstep and—”

“it’s a pretty stupid reason,” he grumbles under his breath, crossing his arms and frowning. you glare at him from the side as you scoff in disbelief. 

“of course,” you chuckle dryly, “of course you would say that. nothing is ever serious enough to you—”

“it’s pretty fucking serious to me,” he spits, shooting you a look that tells you he’s just as shocked as you, “that’s obviously why i’m the one who’s still not moved on as easily as you. how seriously did you really take it?”

“that’s not fair,” you grit, “you made it abundantly clear you didn’t care enough, so why should i—”

“i fucking cared a shit ton,” he says incredulously, “that’s bullshit, and you know it—”

“don’t curse at me, satoru—”

“well, don’t accuse me of not caring when i clearly—”

“oh, yeah cause you cared so much when you were laughing with that waitress as she hit on you,” you seethe, throwing a pillow from your couch at him. he can catch it easily—you know this for sure, but he lets it hit him out of what you’re sure is at least a little consideration to your feelings. 

“i wasn’t laughing because i enjoyed it,” he crinkles his brows as if you’ve said the most ridiculous thing ever, “it was just funny because she was trying so hard. and you looked all cute when you got mad.”

“what kind of boyfriend enjoys watching his girlfriend get mad—”

“the kind of boyfriend who thinks his girlfriend is adorable when she’s mad—”

“yeah, well your idea of a date is going to the mall with shoko and suguru. what kind of date is that—”

“okay, i was a bit clueless sometimes, but you could’ve said something instead of just dumping me like i was some random guy in your dm’s—”

“you need to grow the fuck up, satoru—”

“now look at who's cursing!”

it’s silent—both you and him have your arms crossed and lips curled into scowls as you both glare at each other. you’re stubbornly convinced satoru doesn’t care as much as you do, and he’s firmly committed to the idea that you’re twisting him into some douche who doesn’t give two shits. 

it’s quiet like that for a bit before he deflates and slumps against the couch, rubbing his face as he groans. 

“look,” he starts, “i’m sorry. i never meant to make it seem like i enjoy attention from other girls, and i didn’t realize you wanted more dates. i’d have done things differently if you told me how you felt.”

he sounds sincere. and he’s looking at you with those eyes of his—god, those stupid little eyes that are so wide and blue and deep and full of love. even after that whole argument, satoru is clearly as painfully in love as ever. 

you sigh before playing with a loose thread on your sweatpants. 

“i…guess i could’ve talked it out first. i probably shouldn’t have skipped straight to breaking up,” you mutter, not meeting his eyes. 

satoru stares glumly at you from the corner of his eyes before he adds bitterly, “you don’t seem to miss me. not even a little.”

“toru,” you pinch your nose, “of course i miss you. i was not gonna be mopey on instagram, though—”

“doesn’t seem like it,” he huffs. he’s a bit hurt—you can tell because he’s not meeting your eyes, and he’s not got that playful little upward curl of his lips. 

you’re a bit weak, you realize—but you suppose you always have been for satoru, because you’re shuffling to his end of the couch and poking his cheek gently. 

“i miss you tons, y’know,” you murmur—you smile a little at his pout before adding, “i want more dates this time around. and stop letting girls get away with being shameless flirts.”

he finally meets your eyes—it’s like a child on christmas, the way his face lights up and his lips curl into an excited grin.

“you mean i get to be your boyfriend again?”

it’s cute—the way he asks to be your boyfriend and not if you’ll be his girlfriend. maybe you’ve been a bit unfair, maybe satoru has always cared deeply in his dumb little clueless way of his own. 

“fine,” you pretend to roll your eyes. he looks hopelessly excited as he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his side, tucking you under his chin as he rests his cheek on your head. 

“you should really talk to me more,” he murmurs, “i’m…things fly over my head sometimes. i’m sorry.”

“i’m sorry too,” you admit, “i’ll talk to you—but you better listen to me if i do. don’t turn it into jokes.”

“i never turn things into jokes,” he grumbles petulantly, huffing to the side as you shoot him an unimpressed raise of your brow. “does this mean i can follow you again?”

“yes,” you snort.

“and you’ll follow back, right?”

“yes, satoru,” you sigh, shaking your head in amusement. he’s already back to being a handful—but you can admit you might have missed it just a bit. “but for the love of god, please delete that burner.”

“fine,” he pouts, tugging you closer. 

you giggle, he grins, and then you’re kissing—and everything feels as it should be. 

———

“they’re back together,” shoko says in disbelief, staring at your text. suguru groans, pausing mid bite as he rubs over his forehead in defeat. 

of course, you and satoru just have to make up in exactly fifteen minutes. not ten. not twenty. exactly fifteen. 

how considerate of you both. 

“are you kidding?” suguru grumbles, “so neither of us win.”

“guess not,” she says sourly, rolling her eyes. 

woefully, they both agree to split the check. 

suguru and shoko are so me and my friend every time our other friend argues with her boyfriend we deadass be making bets over when they make up and loser has to pay for boba LMAO

[loveinhawkins]

picturing Dustin watching at the trailer park, right after Eddie says, “Hey, Steve? Make him pay.”

And for some reason Dustin’s reminded of ‘84, of his conversation with Steve on the railroad tracks, it’s like before it’s gonna storm, you know? You can’t see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh... electricity, you know?—although he’s grown enough to suspect that Steve might not know everything in that regard.

And it’s not electricity he senses, not exactly, but it��s definitely a storm of some kind: something fragile. Something—someone—that’s very scared.

Dustin’s running before he’s even registered his decision. “Steve!”

Steve turns around, and he already looks like he’s about to ask a question—something practical, like whether Dustin’s forgotten something—and Dustin feels a twist of regret, that that’s where Steve’s mind goes; yeah, they’re all ready for battle, so it makes sense, but…

Feeling suddenly very young, Dustin barrels into Steve and hugs him.

He hears Steve’s surprised inhale, his hesitancy, before he returns the hug in full force.

For a little while, it’s like the world narrows down to only this. No ash in the air, no nightmarish red in the sky. Just the two of them.

Dustin’s about to pull away when he feels Steve’s chin dig into the top of his head. Hears him sniff, very quietly, like he’s trying to hide it; and that makes Dustin think of the tunnels, or afterwards, really, when Steve held onto him with shaking hands, kept saying, “We’re okay, we’re okay.”

So he just keeps hugging back.

Steve’s the one to let go; he’s smiling, but he looks a little sad too, forehead creased with worry.

“I need a ride tomorrow,” Dustin says.

Steve huffs. “Oh, yeah? Where to?”

Dustin taps his nose obnoxiously. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

It’s bullshit, of course; Dustin doesn’t need a ride anywhere.

Steve rolls his eyes, but some tightness in his jaw finally eases. “God, you’re such a dick.”

“Bright and early, Steve!” Dustin adds smugly. “Five am!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, waving him off, and for a moment it’s like they’re just in the school parking lot. He looks as if he’s about to say something else, then thinks better of it—glances back to where Robin and Nancy are waiting. He pulls Dustin in with one arm, a brief but tight hold. Nods, as if to himself. “Go on, scram.”

Dustin runs back to the trailer with a stitch in his side but a smile on his face. He knows it’s naive to think he can fix everything, but in this moment at least some part of the universe has been righted, even while in The Upside Down.

Eddie’s standing right where he left him, like he’s been frozen the whole time.

“Hey,” he says quietly. “is he, uh… is he okay?”

Dustin’s reminded that of course, Steve isn’t the only one who’s scared.

“Yeah, he will be,” he says, which he thinks is a more accurate answer than a simple yes or no.

It’s funny how life works, he muses while gathering supplies for the trailer defences. There’s no way he’d have thought even a week ago that Eddie would be sincerely asking him about Steve’s well-being. Whenever he happened to bring Steve up at Hellfire, Eddie would imitate him in a comedic falsetto, “Oh, Steve this, Steve that.”

For a minute, Eddie remains rooted to the spot, still staring in the direction of where Steve went—like he’d watched helplessly as Steve walked into the eye of a storm or something.

“You just gonna stand there and gawk?” Dustin says.

Eddie snorts. “So rude, Henderson.”

And it’s not like Dustin really knows, not when Steve and Eddie are still barely dancing around it themselves. Still, he can pick up on some things.

Like when they’ve finished setting up everything, waiting for the go-ahead for Eddie to start playing his guitar—to pass the time, they recount the high points of the day, keep it light. It’s a practice Eddie used to implement after campaigns.

And look, Dustin’s damn good at picking up on patterns. Like, he loves Steve, but he’s pretty sure the reality of him driving the hotwired RV doesn’t quite match up to how Eddie’s currently waxing lyrical about it.

He’s making it sound like it was something outta James Bond, Dustin thinks, when he’s sure Steve drove right into several trash cans.

Suddenly he knows exactly what he should do.

“Steve this, Steve that,” he sing-songs.

Eddie flushes; Dustin cackles.

“Fuck off,” Eddie says, but he’s smiling as Dustin keeps laughing, like he knows there’s nothing mean-spirited in it. He keeps going, Steve this, Steve that, talking right over Dustin’s teasing—somehow finding even more moments where Steve truly shines.

And Dustin doesn’t know everything, not even close, but at the very least, he knows that this feels right.

[theliteraryarchitect]

A Word of Advice About Critique Groups, Beta Readers, and Other Peer-Based Feedback on Your Writing

In my time as a professional editor, I've had many writers come to me with stories they've been trying to improve based on suggestions from critique groups, beta readers, or other non-professional feedback sources (friends, family, etc.). The writers are often frustrated because they don't agree with the feedback, they can't make sense of the comments they've gotten, or they've tried their best to implement the suggestions but now they've made a big mess of things and don't know where to go from here.

If this happens to you, you're not alone. Here's the deal.

Readers and beginning writers are great at sniffing out problems, but they can be terrible at recommending solutions. For that reason, critique groups can be a disastrous place for beginning writers to get advice.

Here's a good metaphor. Imagine you don’t know the first thing about cars. Someone tells you, “There’s oil leaking onto the driveway. You should cover the car with a giant garbage bag.” Alarmed, you oblige, only to be told the next day that “now the car smells like burning plastic and I can’t see out the windows.”

A mechanic would’ve listened to the critic’s complaint and come up with their own solution to the leaking oil, ignoring the amateur’s ridiculous idea, because they know how to fix cars and can use their skills to investigate symptoms and find the correct solution.

Critique groups actually aren’t bad places for experienced writers, because they can listen to the criticism, interpret it, and come up with their own remedies to the problems readers are complaining about. Beginning writers, on the other hand, can end up digging themselves into a deeper hole.

There's a great Neil Gaiman quote about this very conundrum:

Remember: when people tell you something’s wrong or doesn’t work for them, they are almost always right. When they tell you exactly what they think is wrong and how to fix it, they are almost always wrong.

So what to do?

First, try to investigate the reader's complaint and come up with your own solution, instead of taking their solution to the problem. Sometimes, in the end, the reader's solution was exactly right, which is lovely, but don't count on it. Do your own detective work.

Second, take everything you hear with a huge grain of salt, and run the numbers. Are 9 out of 10 readers complaining about your rushed ending? It's probably worth investigating. Does nobody have an issue with your abrasive antagonist except your cozy mystery-loving uncle? Then you might not need to worry about it.

Third, give everything you hear a gut check. Does the criticism, while painful, ring true? Or does it seem really off-base to you? Let the feedback sit for a week or so while you chill out. You might find you're less sensitive and open to what's been said after a little more time has passed.

Lastly, consider getting professional feedback on your writing. Part of my job as an editor is to listen to previous feedback the writer has gotten, figure out whether the readers were tracking the scent of legitimate problems, and offer the writer more coherent solutions. Of course, some professional editors aren't very good at this, just like some non-professional readers are amazing at it, so hiring someone isn't a guarantee. But editors usually have more experience taking a look under the hood and giving writers sound mechanical advice about their work, rather than spouting ideas off the top of their head that only add to the writer's confusion.

Hope this helps!

[chisatowo]

I'm working on making myself smth of an old oc archive and ohhhh my god I forgot how many homestuck ocs I used to have jesus christ someone kill me

[letstrip13]

୨୧ - cramps

summary: your boyfriend comes over to take care of you when you get your period

warnings: none, just enjoy cutesy bf!chris. not proofread!

word count: 819

author's note: day 3 of posting blurbs!! send requests for blurbs or fics!! also over 600 likes on my last blurb is insane, i haven’t gotten that many in so long tysm!! 𖹭

------------------------୨୧------------------------

you're laying on the couch in your apartment's living room, all curled up in the only position that can provide some relief from the pain. your period came this morning and by this evening, the horrible day one cramps had hit.

about ten minutes ago, you had texted your boyfriend, chris, to come over to cuddle and watch a movie. he wasn’t too far so he’d be showing up any minute now.

another few minutes tick by when the door you left unlocked for him comes flying open. chris bursts through the door holding an overflowing grocery bag in each hand as he calls out to you, sounding urgent, “baby?!” you sit up in a panic, worried by the tone of his voice. “i'm in here!”

he rushes into the living room and drops the bags on the coffee table, almost knocking over the scented candle you had burning in the process. a giggle slips out of your lips, the panic quickly replaced by confusion and amusement. “what's all this, my love?”

he looks up at you, an expression so nervous that you just want to run your fingers through his hair and give him a squeeze, but you let him speak.

“i- umm.. it's everything you need for your period. i know it's hard for you sometimes.. so i wanted to make it better.” the confusion courses through your mind again. you hadn't mentioned it when you texted him. “wha- how'd you know?” a soft chuckle escapes him. “you always ask me to come cuddle when you're on it.. and we've been together over a year, princess, i know you.”

“you're so sweet, i don't know what i’d do without you, chris.” his face breaks into his usual charming grin. “wanna see what i got?” he kneels in front of the couch where you're sitting and he places the bags in front of him.

first, he pulls a box of pads and a box of tampons, placing them next to him. “just in case you needed more,” he adds with a sheepish smile, “i hope i got the right ones.” “you did great, baby.” a relieved smile crosses his lips and he continues digging through the bags.

he pulls out a hot water bottle complete with a cute cover, pink with little red strawberries scattered around it. then he follows it up with a bottle of generic painkillers. “the lady at the store says these will be good for your cramps,” he tells you with a proud little smirk.

he takes out a pair of black fresh love sweatpants and the zip-up hoodie to match. “these because i know you forgot to get some last time you were over,” he pauses and digs around in the bottom of the bag and pulls out a pair of purple fuzzy socks with black cats on them, “..and these because i know you love halloween, even if it is a little early.”

you watch him carefully, hanging on to every word he says but you remain silent, words having left you for the time being. he takes a different approach with emptying the second bag, opting to just dump everything out in front of you. out tumbles a pile of your favourite snacks, chocolate, and candy, as well as six bags of honey bbq fritos which chris starts to ramble on about, “i was looking for these for so long. i went to so many different stores and gas stations this week but they were sold out every time. i saw them today and thought might as well buy them all-”

he's interrupted with a choked sob escaping your lips as hot tears roll down your cheeks. the thoughtfulness of your boyfriend's loving gesture gave you such an overwhelming feeling of adoration. but mixed with the heightened emotions as a side effect of your period, you can't help but cry.

chris quickly notices and rushes to pull you into his arms, doing his best to soothe your sobs. “is something wrong? did i buy the wrong thing?” a few slightly louder cries come out of you before you can hold it together enough to speak. “no, it's all perfect. you're-” you manage to gasp out between sobs, “perfect. i love you so much. thank you.”

you can feel a rush of air leave chris at his relief. “oh good. i thought it was about the fritos. they're not all for me, you know.” you laugh, the tears quickly being forgotten as he wipes away the traces of them on your cheeks.

“how about we cuddle and watch a movie?” you nod, getting comfortable on the couch and grabbing a blanket for the both of you to share. “sounds good to me.” you rest your head on his shoulder and pick a movie. he gently tilts your chin up to place a soft kiss on your lips just as the movie begins.

------------------------୨୧------------------------

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[beenbaanbuun]

it begins - opposites attract universe

a small snippet from back when darling was nothing more than a sugar baby :)

——————————————————————————-

“you look—”

“tired? miserable?” you cut hongjoong off as you toss yourself down on the rug that the man had noticed you’d taken quite a liking to. honestly before you came he was wondering whether he should move it to one of the unused guest rooms; it is quite an old thing, after all. upon seeing how much you adore it however, he can’t quite bring himself to shuffle it even an inch to the side. he knows his husband is inclined to agree…

“i was going to say overworked, but i suppose tired and miserable works too,” he chuckles lowly. something about you has him doing that so often, finding himself amused by you even when you’re not in the room. there have been so many late night recently, just him and seonghwa lay together sharing stories of how you’d brightened their day.

“well if i look overworked it’s my bosses fault,” you lift an arm to shield your face from hongjoong’s watchful gaze, but even with that extra layer of protection you can feel him staring at you with that an unfamiliar look in his eyes. he’s been looking at you like that an awful lot recently; seonghwa too.

you wonder if they know that the way they watch you has changed? eyes shifting from lust to something strange that, if you didn’t know any better, you might muddle up with adoration. each time you catch it you have to scold yourself a little, warning yourself to not let your heart swell too much. you’re here on nothing more than a business arrangement; your company for their rewards. at the end of the day, that’s all this is.

but as you shift your arm just enough for you to peek at the suited man, you find yourself realising that this moment is worth more than anything they could give you. the money, the clothes; none of adds up to more than the sight of hongjoong staring down at you with such a bright smile on his face. a smile that you know you caused.

maybe that’s why you still have your job, despite the fact that you haven’t needed it for a while, or why you still wear all your old tatty clothes from before you met them on that fateful night in the club. maybe this whole thing has nothing to do with the money at all.

maybe it never has.

“that’s a pretty dress, lamb,” you hear a second voice enter the room, a pretty pair of black stockings passing briefly through your periphery. knowing seonghwa, they’re thigh high with little lacy details in his thigh, far too high up to be revealed without pushing the hem of his skirt up. “although i must admit, i don’t recall ever buying you anything so long…”

it’s a pointed comment, letting you know that he’s well aware of the fact that you’re not adorning any of the clothes they’ve provided for you. he means nothing by it, and you’re well aware of that fact, but you still can’t help yourself from sighing at his words.

“i can’t wear any of the clothes you buy me to work,” you reply, “i don’t want a trip to HR just because mommy and daddy insist on me showing every inch of skin i have.”

and perhaps that was the wrong this to say because as seonghwa sits down gracefully next to hongjoong, he lets out a little dismissive scoff. as you let you gaze shift from hongjoong’s face to his? you notice that his expression matches the sentiment of the sound. fed up and dismissive, but not angry. never angry.

“and how is work, little lamb,” his words are sharp, “i heard you telling hongjoong you felt—what were the words you used? ah yes, tired and miserable. good day then?”

“seonghwa—”

“what?” he interrupts, “am i not allowed to speak your mind on issues that concern me? tell me, lamb,” he leans forward, elbows on knees and knuckles digging into his cheek, “should i not worry about what our darling does with her spare time?”

you freeze, not entirely sure of the meaning of the cadence of his voice or the words that it speaks. he’s always called you his, or theirs—after all, that’s what they pay you to be. never before has he said those words so possessively, though.

“cara mia,” hongjoong warns; something that you’ve never witnessed him do with seonghwa before. the taller man takes no notice of him, though, his eyes firmly rested on you.

“tell me, lamb,” he purrs dangerously, like a lion about to pounce upon its prey, “what are you here for if you’re not going to make use of our gifts? you are our sugar baby; why do you keep returning here if you don’t want to accept our part of the deal?”

your body sits up on its own; an automatic reaction to the uncomfortable tension that sits over the room like a heavy fog. you know the answer to seonghwa’s question, as you fear he does, but you daren’t say it. once it’s out in the open, there’s no taking it back. maybe that would be a good thing, to finally have your feelings out there, your soul lay bare for them. with seonghwa’s expression do unreadable, and hongjoong’s turning to worry, you’re not so sure.

“seonghwa—”

“tell me,” he cuts you off, “because if you don’t, then darling, i’m not sure i’ll be able to live with this uncertainty.”

oh.

is this it then? you either tell them that you feel more than you should or this whole thing is off? for all you know, they might call it off once they hear what you say. they might kick you out, scolding you for growing feelings where there clearly shouldn’t be any. they might roll their eyes and dismiss you as if you’re nothing but dirt on the bottom of your shoe before telling you that this arrangement won’t work anymore.

perhaps more than that, though, is the possibility of them ignoring it. acknowledging your feelings and moving on as though nothing has changed when in reality, everything has. before you thought you could make it through this with those feelings kept a secret, but if they’re going to be out in the open, then you’re not so sure. after all, a rejection is closure, ignorance is not.

“i enjoy your company,” you say, hoping it’s vague enough to satisfy his curiosity. he narrows his eyes and you can tell it’s not.

“you can enjoy our company and still take our gifts,” he says, voice short and impatient, “the two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

you take in a shuddery breath and you can’t lie, part of you is tempted to crawl closer to them just to satisfy your nerves. everything seems okay when you’re bundled up in their arms.

“seong—”

“lamb,” he snaps, “please, just tell me whatever it is that you think you cannot. even if it’s not what we want to hear, i can assure you that nothing bad with happen,” a manicured hand with nails as red as blood reaches forward to catch your chin. you melt into feeling, even the slightest of touch being enough to make things seem just a little better. “you’re far too special for us to allow anything bad to happen to you.”

and just like that, your walls come crumbling to the floor. you shuffle closer to the pair, desperate for something more. you get that something in the form of hongjoong’s hand in your hair. he scrapes his nails against your scalp, humming appreciatively when you melt against the touch, eyes fluttering closed and lips parting. seonghwa, despite his desperation, can’t help but take the opportunity to trace your lower lip with his thumb, tugging it back just before you can resume your usual habit of taking it into your mouth and suckling upon it.

“nothing bad,” hongjoong repeats his husband’s words.

��your company,” you say, voice quiet and breathy as the touch of your two sugar-parents melt you down to nothing, “it means more to me than the gifts ever did. i can go without the clothes and the money, i—” you stop yourself, unsure whether you should let the next few words slip from your tongue. in the end, you know that you’ll have to, but perhaps you can relish in these few seconds in which your secret actually remains just that; a secret.

“you?” seonghwa urges, his hand flattening out against your cheek to stroke it. “what about you, lamb?”

you take a second, maybe two, to build yourself up for the plunge. it feels as though you’re stood on a pier, staring into the murky depths below. your don’t know what’s beneath the water, but what you do know is that seonghwa and hongjoong are already down there. they’re waiting for you to jump; to join them in the only abyss. you want to take that leap, even if you have no clue how deep the water really is. perhaps you will hit something and break your legs, but as you stare into seonghwa’s eyes you realise that they were telling the truth. nothing bad will happen when they’re there to catch you.

“i don’t think i can go without you,” you mutter, “and i think that’s been the case since the very beginning.”

“without us?” seonghwa asks as if the statement isn’t clear as day. what more could he want from you? “you mean to say that this isn’t what we thought it was?”

“well, it was still sugaring,” you try to appease him. he simply shakes his head with a smile.

“but if we’re in it for your company, and you’re in it for ours,” seonghwa breaks eye contact with you for just a moment or so. there’s an almost giddy look on his face as he glances towards the man he married and it remains once his eyes are back on you, “is this not just a relationship? are you not just ours?”

you suppose he has a point.

“is that what you want me to be?” you ask.

“more than anything, dove,” hongjoong replies, “is that what you want to be?”

“yes,” it’s a simple answer, but it says all you need to say, “more than anything.”

[animeyanderelover]

I already did this concept with Dazai in those Hc's so I will not add him in here again.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, clinginess, manipulation, blackmailing, bribing, paranoia, attempted murder in Nikolai's part, isolation, abduction, death of reader in their previous world

Tags: @shumidehiro @izanami78 @leveyani

Isekai'd into their world

Nakahara Cuuya

🟠Bullshit! That’s the initial reaction that Chuuya has when he finds out. There’s a limit to how much he is willing to believe even though throughout his life he has seen some things you’d have to witness with your own eyes to believe in them. It is true that there is nothing about your past he has been able to dig up as your life has seemingly started the moment you were discovered by an elderly couple on the streets. You’ve always claimed that you couldn’t remember anything before you where found and since there has been nothing the police was able to find out about your past, they gave up on the case as you were slowly assisted into society. Chuuya doesn’t believe your claims though that you suffer from amnesia. He might be hotheaded but he’s been working for the Port Mafia for years now, has even been made an Executive. The one skill you develop in this position is to get a fairly good read on the person in front of you, on their body language as well as on whether or not they speak the truth or not. So whilst he has no solid proof about whether you lie to him or not, there is this intuition that he has in his guts that there is something you are hiding.

🟠His overprotective and paranoid thoughts tend to spiral so his first assumption is that maybe there is someone after you and that you’re on the run. If that is the case you don’t have to worry. Chuuya can and will provide protection if someone is after your life. The longer you remain silent about your past, the more impatient he grows. Chuuya hasn’t always been honest to you either, especially regarding his position in the Port Mafia. But you needlessly fuel his anxiety as you don’t reveal anything, only feeding his paranoid thoughts as he wonders what you could hide that is so atrocious that you don’t even want your lover to know. Yet when you tell him the truth finally, sensing that he is close to snapping, he gets mad at you. Are you mocking him?! Don’t lie to him now! He doesn’t believe you. He doesn’t believe you until you see yourself forced to reveal everything you know about him. You know about Sheep, about Arahabaki, about the Port Mafia and about so much more. Only then does he believe you. The truth did not ease his worries though. No, instead Chuuya feels betrayed. Betrayed that you have known everything about him from the very beginning.

🟠He can’t hide. He can’t pretend anymore either. What’s the use? You know everything about him. With no facade to hide anything anymore Chuuya grows weirdly aggressive yet vulnerable. He doesn’t know how he should deal with this situation where he had no control over what he reveals about you and what not. It is fucking weird to know that in your world he doesn’t even exist and is instead a fictional character. What do you even think about him when he stands in front of you? Do you even see him as a real person? With really nothing to lose anymore Chuuya just abducts you then and there, unable to come up with another solution on how to handle this situation. Obviously he doesn’t tell anyone else about you though as he himself has to properly come to terms with the truth. As heavy as the feeling of betrayal sits though, there’s also desperation and paranoia. Desperation because he feels like he deserves to find out more about you as well since you already know far too much about him and paranoia now that he understands that you’ve died before in your world. You can’t be fine after all that happened, right? He’s going to help you.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

🍎Fyodor has always deemed you to be someone who stands out from the common crowd, for reasons he doesn’t understand either. Perhaps it is because your eyes perceive what others can’t see as he will never forget his first encounter with you. The glimpse of pure fear in your eyes as you gazed at him, seeing the demon disguised as a man. The way your body flinched away from his touch as he reached out to you, sensing the doom that would befall you the moment he’d feel your body. Only very few people have ever been able to realise him for the higher being that he is and it is the fact that a common sinner like you sees right through him upon first meeting him that makes you special. Fyodor tests his theory out only once by cornering you, giving you no chance to hide behind others as you are left alone with him. The sadist in him is relishing in the untarnished fear he sees in your eyes, purple orbs gazing at you as you slowly move away from him. He doesn’t follow you but he doesn’t have to. You poor thing now can’t run away from him anymore. You’ve dared to catch the devil’s interest and for that you will greatly suffer for Fyodor only knows how to take and destroy.

🍎It is when he figures out that you have no past that you only deepen his obsession. It’s intriguing. No past sins to judge you by, no trace of an existence stained in impurity before you appeared in this city. No matter how much research Fyodor does, he’s unable to figure you out. You’re a mystery to him, to a messenger of God. Oh, it is indeed a dangerous game you are playing. What could you be possibly hiding from him that is so forbidden that not even he can know? It’s like you’re trying to trigger him and it is this lack of control, the inability to cast divine judgment upon you as you are incomplete without a past to hold you accountable for that leads Fyodor to do something he normally never does. He rushes the process slightly, lures you faster into the spider’s web until you are trapped. The first thing he asks of you to confess is your past, the one thing he can’t find out about you. What are you? Are you a sinner or are you something more? No normal human should be able to deprive him of information he can always gather. The time for your confession has finally come, the day of your judgement has at last arrived. Now then you little mouse, confess.

🍎If only you would know how much you fuel his obsession the moment you are forced to reveal the truth to Fyodor. A sinner always pays with death to free them of their sins yet you have already died in your own world before you were brought to his own. You are free, or at least freer, of sins than anyone else on this planet. So before this world can ruin you once more he is going to isolate you, to shield you from the impurities of this world. After all it is the duty of an angel to bring salvation to those who are worthy. Now he also understands why you were so afraid the moment you saw him. What was the first time for him to ever meet you was after all only the first time for you officially meeting him as you had seen him multiple times before as nothing more than a fictional character in your own world. Maybe there is a scientific explanation of how it is possible for you to be transported into a world that was only fictional in your old reality but Fyodor pushes another agenda onto you. Have you ever considered it to be the will of a higher being? Have you ever considered it to be a second chance given to you? Don’t you worry too much. He will help you flourish in this world.

Jouno Saigiku

♦️​BadumBadumBadumBadum. The melody of your heart when Jouno finds you one day stranded in an alleyway is certainly a good indicator of the fear and the anxiety currently swirling around inside your mind. Be assured though, he is here to help the little wounded puppy he's found himself right now. You'll just have to tell him who you are and where you are from and he'll get you safely back. That is at least the plan, the only problem is that you refuse his help. Hmm, that is strange. You're acting a bit suspicious, you know? Your little heart is telling him that his appearance seems to have only increased whatever stress you've already felt before. Is there something you're trying to hide from him? Even though his eyes are not able to perceive you, you don't strike Jouno as someone who has done something wrong that would force him to take actions against you. Still, he interrogates you, at least until he has gotten his confirmation that you haven't done anything criminal nor plan to do so. Technically that should be enough yet your heartbeat still hasn't calmed down. He's the reason. You're afraid of him. A reaction that usually only the bad guys have when seeing him.

♦️​The Hunting Dogs are heroes even internationally, normally citizens like you rejoice when seeing him. There are still things he'd like to ask you but you actually seem to gather some courage, tell him shortly that he has no reason to keep you trapped any longer since he has gotten his comfirmation. He isn't exactly pleased with the tone you use but he lets you go, though he's still quite dissatisfied with what he has gotten. As if fate is smiling down upon him though he soon has the pleasure to meet you again. You're still as close-lipped as the first time he met you but since he has now figured out where you work he decides to make acquaintances with your co-workers who are far more talkative. He can sense you standing there in the corner, your heartbeat going crazy as they tell him that you've recently started working here and haven't told them much about your past either. So you really just keep it a secret from anyone. That only makes him more curious, you know? With his position it is relatively easy to gather intel on you though it is when he is served with little to nothing that he truly starts realising that you must carry quite the secret around.

♦️​That is the kickstart of his obsession as he wants to figure out what it is you are hiding. What is the dark secret you don't want anyone to know about? His only clue lies in you and so he torments you with his visits, constantly attempting to guess what it is you are hiding only to never figure it out. How could he have known that you died in your previous life only to be reincarnated into a world that was purely fictional in your old world? It is after the abduction that you are left with no choice but to spill out the truth and as much as he would like to ridicule you for such an otherwise blatant lie, your heart is not lying. You're actually speaking the truth. And Jouno doesn't know how to reply to that, just staring at you with a furrowed face as if considering what the best response or even best reaction is to the truth he has so desperately wanted to know for so long now. You think that you see a glimmer of unease appearing on his face before he suddenly bends down, his hands grasping your chin. Just how much do you know about him? Even though you are his beloved Saigiku has ever considered revealing too much to you yet perhaps you already know too much, leaving him strangely vulnerable.

Nikolai Gogol

🕊️​To Nikolai you have always been entertaining. He has the fondest memories of the both you meeting for the first time, a sentiment you most likely don't share with him. After all it was obvious from the very first encounter that all that you felt for him was dread even though his disguise should have been immaculate, able to fool anyone else. He hides his sinister and twisted character when he needs to do so yet you have seen right through him and it is this seemingly keen intuition of yours that has gotten him so invested in you. Nikolai has never meant for this interest of yours to stay nor to develop into a burning passion that threatens to rip him off the wings he so desperately hopes to obtain. The demon threatening to steal his soul is none other than you, his crooked feelings for you spinning and turning as Nikolai finds himself trapped between two clashing desires. One is to obtain his freedom by murdering you, another one is his desire to keep you and share his sad fate of isolation and oppression due to his own feelings with you. It is a constant inner fight and more than just once has he considered ending your puny life yet there is one factor that ultimately stops him.

🕊️​He plans to torment you, to ruin the life you have so carefully built for yourself and the freedom you have in it yet it is the little information he can gather that has him pausing. No family, no friends, no past. You are essentially like a ghost who appeared overnight. He has no past which he could use to chain you down, nothing personal he could hold against you and that knowledge that he can't properly oppress you unless he knows about it torments him and only infuriates him more as if you were indirectly mocking him. Fine, he'll cut the games short then. When you wake up the next time, it is in a little cage with a cheerful Nikolai asking you how you're doing and if you have slept well. That grin only widens and turns into somethin hideous when he sees your eyes overflowing with fear. Yes~ Let that fear corner you and tie you down. Share your suffering with his own. There is still something, you precious dove, that he really needs to know. Only then can he fully drag you down to the bottom of despair with him after all. You need to tell him a bit more about your past. Your family. Your friends. He needs them for his plans. Imagine his surprise when he sees the relief appearing on his face.

🕊️​That grin on his face disappears as he realises the truth, even if only for a short moment. It isn't the fact that you are from a different world, it isn't that you died in your previous world either that sobers him down for one or two seconds. It is the realisation that you will always be freer than he will be. There are no family, no friends, no pets he could use to play with and to break you with. There is no information he can obtain about you unless you tell him yet here you are, knowing already so much about him since he was a fictional character in your old world. Half of your wings he will never be able to clip off. For one frightening moment his hands suddenly wrap around your neck and start squeezing down with enough force to have you gasping and choking before all of a sudden he lets go, leaving you to cough for air. When he bends down he has put on that playful appearance once more, whispering to you that it's still too early for you to die. He must say, you managed to catch him off guard for a moment there but that's alright. If things are more difficult there are more entertaining after all. He will make sure to plug every single feather off of your wings until you're just as broken as him.

[kissohee]

virgin!anton x virgin!fem!reader ☆ nsfw ; wc : 2k+ ☆ one-shot mdni! synopsis; after being together for so long, you would think you've already done everything in the books, but there's only one you haven't done yet. and that's sex. warnings; anton is bigger than reader, extremely lighthearted, mentions of masturbation, anton is big, dry humping, protected sex, they cum quickly

"You've got to see this video," Anton barges into your room, throwing his bag on your floor, "It's seriously the cutest thing ever." You look up at him from where you were sitting on your bed, moving your laptop off your lap and onto your desk next to you. "What is it?" "Cats. Two of them." He hands you his phone, kicking off his shoes to get comfortable, "I won't spoil it."

When you started dating Anton around a year ago, you knew his love and affection also came with cute animal videos. He sees a cute animal, he sends it right to you. Might even add a text saying "Us" or "You" but he's never saved them to show you in person. You watch the video nonetheless, it being a video about a cat who fell in love with another cat, even having kittens, and the rest of the video is just cute clips of them two. "It's us." Anton looks at you with a cheesy smile when you hand him his phone back. "It's very cute but, 'Ton..." You tilt your head, "You came here to show me a video of cats?" Anton didn't exactly live close by to where you did, so it was very rare when he came over. "Well," His head sinks into his shoulders, "I wanted an excuse to see you." You pull the blanket off of you and open your arms for him to accept your hug. Despite his big figure, he wraps his arms around your waist and lays on top of you. "You never need an excuse to see me, you know that.." He digs his head into your chest, and you bring a hand up to run fingers through his hair. "You missed me?" "Mmhmm.." He nods gently to not disturb your hand and he looks up at you. "I missed you too." Is all you're able to say before Anton lifts himself up to kiss you. You instantly reciprocate the kiss and hold his face in your hands.

Despite being together for so long, all you and Anton have ever done was make out. And even though each make out gets progressively more and more desperate and needy, you guys never put too much thought into having sex. It came up only a few times, and one was because because you guys were watching a movie that had a sex scene. You were holding Anton in your arms and he quietly mentioned it. "Do you think we'll ever have sex?" Anton was never the type to openly talk about things he wanted, so the fact that he said even something as simple as that shocked you. "Do you want to?" You always believed that it would happen when it happens, and you knew he felt the same way. "Not right now.." His eyes glued on the movie, "But eventually." The second time it came up was when he got his first boner with you. It happened during your first heated make out session. It was the first time he ever made you moan, and that was when he was leaving hickeys all around your neck and chest. You had felt him grow under you, nervous that if you brought it up you'd scare him. "Anton..?" He paused his actions and when he finally caught up with his dick he lightly pushed you off of him, covering it with his hands. "Oh my god," You heard panic in his voice, "I'm so sorry." His reaction made you hold back a laugh, "Why are you sorry?" His cheeks flushed "I don't know... It's.." He found himself having trouble forming sentences, "That's so gross of me, I don't know why it.." "You're a male human," You rest your head on his shoulder, "I don't think it's gross... It happens." You both sat there in silence, and when Anton realized it wasn't going down any time soon, he excused himself to go to your bathroom and jack off. He felt so embarrassed by it that he refused to see you for an entire week. And it wasn't until you promised him that you weren't repulsed by him, that he started to see you again. That day never came up again, and Anton was very cautious about making out ever since.

But right now he was too busy focusing on the way your mouth feels on his, his mind full of just you. He sits up to be more comfortable and stops kissing you when he can't, "Can we switch places.? I don't want to sit on you and crush you." He lightly jokes, making you giggle. "I don't mind if you crush me, goliath." He rolls his eyes at the teasing nickname and moves hair on your face behind your ear. "I like it better when you're sitting on me though," He says through a pout, and you find it too cute to say no to. It's your turn to roll your eyes and he wipes a little bit of saliva off your bottom lip before getting off of you. He hooks your legs around his waist, allowing your chest to press against his as you kiss him again. "Better?" You run your fingers through his hair while going back to kissing him. "Mmm.. Much better." He replies, softly moaning when you bite his lip, allowing you to slip your tongue into his mouth. When you tug on the bottom of his shirt, he immedeatly takes it off. Sure, you've seen Anton without his shirt before, he is a swimmer after all. But it has never been in the contents of the bedroom, which made even something as small as that make your stomach turn. You decide to lift your shirt off of you, making Anton stare at the way your breasts sit in your bra. He grabs the back of them, about to unclasp them before looking at you, "Can I take this off?" You nod and watch as your bra falls on the bed, finally feeling the cold air. Anton's eyes study every part of your breasts, "Can I touch them?" "Please.." This was your first time ever being exposed like this in front of someone, but you trusted Anton a lot so slowly the nervousness left your body. His fingers make contact with your skin, softly squeezing them, looking up at you with a small smile. When he drags his fingers along your sensitive nipple, you let out a soft moan, making him do it again. The sounds you were making going straight to his cock, causing him to rub upwards. The feeling of his clothed cock against your clothed pussy making you both moan. You continue to grind down on him, matching the speed of his hands working your breasts until he stops, "I-.. I'm gon' cum in my pants if we continue.." Neither of you want to stop, and the air in the room is noticeably different. "What do you want to do?" "I want," He pauses, thinking about what to say, "I need to be inside of you."

You know you're ready, you know you both are. You just wished you guys talked it out beforehand, cause you sadly don't have condoms just laying around. " 'Ton.. I don't have any.. you know." "Hold on," He softly lifted you off of him and grabbed his bag on the floor. After rummaging around it for a minute, he pulled out a box of condoms. He took one out and when went back to you, he realized you were looking at him suspiciously. "What?" "You just... carry condoms around?" You try to hold back a laugh at the thought of Anton casually walking around like that. "Just in case," He says shyly, "For moments like these." He takes the condom out and when he hooks his finger under the waiste band of his pants, he hesitates, "Look away." "Look away?" You raise an eyebrow at him, "No, I am absolutely looking." "Fine." He sighs defeatedly, "But don't say anything." When he removes his pants, his bulge looks bigger under his boxers. You watch as he removes the last piece of clothing, his cock hitting his stomach and your heart sinks. He's big. Like really big. Bigger than you thought, and this was a problem considering you're a virgin too. There was no way he was fitting. There's pre cum leaking from his tip, and your first instinct is to use your finger to wipe it off. He reacts almost immedeatly, squeezing his eyes at the feeling. You remove your pajama pants, showing the cute lace panties you had on. It just so happened to be a coincidence that you were wearing one of your nice panties, taking that as the final sign that this was supposed to happen. "Can I-?" Is all he says before you grab his hands and lead them to you. He hooks a finger around your panties before slowly pulling them down, revealing your dripping pussy. Anton moves his finger through your folds, playing with your arousal on his fingers, "You're so wet.." "Anton.... please." Beg filling your eyes and he softly kisses you before he moves his attention back on the condom he didn't put on, taking it and placing it on his cock. He lifts himself over you, one hand on your waist, the other busy aligning himself with your cunt. You feel his tip enter you slowly, "Is that okay?" You nod, grabbing his hand when you feel him push in just a little more. His fingers interlock with yours, squeezing them when he enters you fully. A whimper escaping his lips from how tight you feel around him. "Fuck..'Ton... You're huge.." You moan from the feeling of you being full, you were surprised he fit, though you give all props to your wetness. Your comment making his face flush full red, he honestly never put much thought into his size. He rests his head on your shoulder, afraid to move in case it hurts you. When you've gotten used to the feeling of him inside you, you caress his hand with your thumb, "You can move." "Fuck," Is all he can muster out when he thrusts into you. The way you feel around him makes him feel like he's on cloud 9. His cock reaching places inside of you that you didn't even know could be reached. Biting your lip, you squeeze his hand the same way he did earlier when he thrusts in a slightly faster pace. Anton's eyes were glued to the way your breasts bounced with each time he entered inside of you, "Y-you're so beautiful.. all of you.."

You wrap your arms around him so he's close enough for you to be able to kiss him. His soft voice louder now that he was closer, making you able to hear him clearly. From the way Anton's moans were coming out, you could tell he was getting closer and closer to release. So you let go of his hand to bring it between you guys, rubbing your clit to the pace of Anton's thrusts. When sees, he replaces your hand with his. His thumb moving in circles with applied pressure. You felt a knot grow in your stomach, moving your hips up to match his causing him to even deeper. "I-I'm gon- cum.." "We'll cu-cum together, o-okay?" He suggests and you nod. You feel Anton's thrusts become sporadic, and you can tell he's struggling to keep up with the pace. "Cum." You feel intense pleasure grow before you reach your orgasm, moaning out his name as loud as you can. He cums too, and you can tell by the way his hips twitch against you, small "I love you, I love you so much," coming from his lips. You both lay there, catching your breaths as you give him a hug with as much energy that is left in your body. He finally pulls out, removing the condom and he looks it before looking at you and softly laughs. "Can't believe we just did that." "It hurt like a bitch at first," You reciprocate the laugh and you see concern enter his face. "Oh it does, right.." He kisses your forehead, "I'm sorry princess. We will have to work on the size difference, huh?" "I think we already did," You caress his cheek softly before patting him on the back, "Buckle up baby, we are doing that again."

antons been on my mind recently.. did NOT mean to make this as long as it ended up being.. - 🐠

[yazmarina]

this is FILTHY ok? ok! f!reader is a new wag and still getting used to all the media attention and paparazzi, F1 driver feels kinda guilty. After a particularly hectic outing for dinner, driver sits down to ask if she is really ok with it, she is like "ill get used to it, its worth it for you" and the man is swoon!! hes like "ok, lets get you used to being the center of attention then" with a smirk and its just him pleasing her all night, even photographing her to get used to flashing lights!!

picture you

lando norris x fem!reader

you could only expect so much, having a boyfriend who likes taking pictures

warnings/notes: smut, fingering, semi-nude photography, implied insecurity

a/n: very short, just a little bite-sized drabble to test the waters. lmk what you think!

.

Dating celebrities is not for the weak. That much you knew. With all the media attention, tabloids scrutinizing every aspect of your relationship, curious fans digging into the recesses of your life, one must possess a certain degree of resilience.

But dating an F1 driver? Even the most tenacious of people might buckle under it all.

What was supposed to be a quiet dinner between you and Lando turned into curious eyes and less-than-quiet murmurs around the restaurant. Lando tried to steer your attention away from all the other people and you tried your hardest, you really did, to carry on a normal conversation, but Lando could see you were growing more uncomfortable with each passing minute.

So after your last bite of pasta, Lando rushed the waiter for the bill. So much for your shared creme brulee.

"Hey, are you okay?" Lando asks as the two of you step into his apartment. He flips on the light switch by the door and his whole living room comes into view.

You sigh, tossing your jacket onto the couch before collapsing on the plush upholstery.

"I'm fine," you lie. You busy yourself with the straps of your shoes, avoiding Lando's eyes.

"But you're not," Lando presses, plopping down next to you. "You can tell me if you're not."

"Eh," comes your noncommittal response. "Unless you can make every person turn away when we're out on a date, I'm afraid whatever I say won't matter at all."

Lando huffs, hands wrapping around both of your wrists. He coaxes you to look at him and you see the look of concern in his eyes. His eyebrows are bunched together, and for a moment, you think Lando looks like a scorned puppy.

"Don't be like that," Lando urges gently. "I can make them look away. I'll try."

You chuckle, leaning in briefly to kiss him right on the scar on his nose. Lando scrunches up his face, pulling away as if annoyed by the gesture.

"I just need to get used to all of this," you admit. Your thumbs find Lando's knuckles and you rub along them soothingly.

"I can bear being the center of attention if it means I'd be doing it for you," you add.

Lando's expression softens and you can almost see the twinkle in his eyes. He cradles both sides of your face and pulls you in to kiss you square on the lips, his mouth plush against yours.

"You're dating the Lando Norris, of course, you're gonna be the center of attention," Lando teases, nudging your cheek with his nose. You laugh, fingers threading through the hair near Lando's nape.

"Big talk for someone who begs for cuddles every night," you whisper back as Lando kisses his way down your neck.

His hands grip tightly around your waist as he adjusts the way you lay against the couch, pulling you fully underneath him. Your hair splays out against the throw pillows and your chest is heaving, Lando's teeth lightly grazing the skin over your jugular.

"You can be the center of attention right now," Lando murmurs near your ear, large hands sliding under the hem of your dress. He bunches the silky material up around your waist, exposing your lower half.

You huff as you're left bare from the waist down, Lando pulling back to grab something off the coffee table.

His camera.

Your breath hitches as he squints, angling his eye against the viewfinder. Lando snaps a picture, the flash going off just as you gasp in surprise. He takes another one, his hand coming down to rest against your breast.

"Lando...," you whimper. You hook your legs around his hips, pulling yourself closer, right against his thigh. You start to grind against the rough material of his jeans, your panties doing little to confine the wetness between your legs.

"Naughty," Lando chuckles, pressing a hand down on your abdomen to still your movements. He pulls the material of your underwear away, fingertips immediately pressing against your cunt.

You can't help the moan that escapes you, the cool touch of Lando's fingers a contrast to the warm liquid that's leaking from your hole.

"Smile, honey," Lando encourages, taking another photo. You shiver at the thought of these images of you, tucked away only for you and Lando to see.

"You're a star, baby," Lando continues, circling your entrance once, twice, before plunging two fingers in. You mewl, hips shooting up to meet Lando's hand.

"You're a natural. So good for me, yeah?"

Lando starts to pump in and out of you, curling his fingers periodically against that one spot inside. You stare straight at the lens through your lashes and you can see the grin that spreads on Lando's face from behind the camera. He takes a burst of shots as you play it up for him, biting your lip and grabbing onto your boobs.

"Oh, I wanna see you cum on my fingers, baby," Lando says mischievously. "Wanna take a picture so it lasts longer."

He quickens his pace, the loud squelch of his fingers echoing around the space of Lando's living room. Your eyes roll into the back of your head when you feel Lando angle his fingers deeper, your walls clenching around him.

"Come on, let it go for me, sweetheart," Lando implores, snapping more pictures as you start to unravel.

Your fingernails dig into one of the couch pillows, your other hand reaching down as you shove your fingers beneath your panties, rubbing at your aching clit. You hear Lando grunt at this, zooming in on your hand so artfully outlined in your thin underwear as you frantically work your nub closer to orgasm.

"Filthy," Lando practically spits out. "So fucking filthy, my love."

Your release rips through your entire body and your back arches impossibly high off the couch. You hear the camera shutter go off again but it's faint, overtaken by the loud ringing in your ears as waves of your orgasm wash over you.

You're panting a few moments later once it starts to fade, your vision bleary and Lando barely coming into focus in front of you.

He places the camera back on the coffee table, leaning down to kiss you fervently. He licks into your mouth and you groan, fingers tangling in his hair.

"There's more where that came from," you whisper against Lando's lips.

You can only yelp as Lando flips you over on your stomach.

[pparadiselost]

dressed to kill.

various (hinata shoyo, kageyama tobio, tsukishima kei, kuroo tetsurou) x fem reader haikyuu men and the lingerie/costumes they like to see on you. warning(s): nsfw dividers: cafekitsune. minors do not interact.

HINATA SHOYO + BABYDOLLS

hinata shoyo is not a picky man. 

he’s a great boyfriend, someone who wants you to feel confident in your own skin and show off your own style. he always hypes you up no matter what you’re wearing, and the fact that he’s genuine about every compliment he gives you only adds to how much of a sweet lover he is.

but if there is one singular thing that he would get on his hands and knees to beg you to wear is nothing more than a babydoll lingerie dress.

something about them just has him going wild. it’s like he can’t think straight anymore, his usually quick brain fried into a horny hum of nothingness when he imagines you all dolled up in the sheer material. his rationale goes straight out the window and his cock takes the wheel, throbbing and aching and needing to get his hands all over your body as soon as possible.

maybe it’s how innocent it makes you look, the fabric flaring around your hips and covering the upper part of your thighs, leaving your bare legs to tease his imagination. maybe it’s how the upper half hugs your body so snugly, the thin cloth barely covering your tits and your nipples poking through if he stares hard enough. it’s really all in the balance, making your beauty shine while leaving just enough to have his imagination wandering. 

it’s almost embarrassing how often he’s jerked off to this fantasy. all of his characteristic sunny swagger is gone when he buys you your first dress and asks you to wear it, sounding more like a teenage boy about to lose his virginity rather than your energetic boyfriend. but it’s like a switch flips in his brain the very second you agree, and without a chance for you to reconsider, he throws you down in bed.

he shoves his face right in between your legs, and his mouth goes straight to where he’s been itching to be throughout this whole ordeal. the translucent material of your lingerie drapes over his head like a veil as he presses hungry kisses to your pussy. he swirls the broad of his tongue over your pulsing hole, loving the way you suck in a sharp breath and shudder. he’s going to make sure to do you right, to fuck you right, for indulging him so well.

“fuck- you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now,” he laughs against your cunt, sounding like a man starved. he might as well be, with how messily he’s eating you out. he smacks his lips, the wet sound of your juices coating his tongue and lips echoing throughout your shared bedroom. “shit- you’re fucking perfect… my pretty girl, being so good for me.”

you unconsciously clench your thighs around his head when he sucks on your clit. heat shoots all throughout your belly, and you’re sure you’re going to ruin the sheets with how much your pussy’s leaking. he takes turns toying with your puffy clit and teasing the outline of your hole until you’re begging incoherently for him to just do something to you already. your pussy can’t take being teased like this.

“fuck me! please fuck me, shoyo-,” you’re almost sobbing, the hem of your babydoll scrunched up in shoyo’s hands as he grips at your thighs to keep them pried apart. it leaves your exposed cunt at his complete mercy, and even thinking about that fact on its own has your walls throbbing and clenching painfully on itself. “anything- your tongue, fingers, cock- anything! please- need you inside me so bad, sho…”

“don’t worry.” he presses a quick kiss to your clit, the shaky moan you reward with him like honey to his ears. “i’ll get there. but fuck… you look so pretty… i want to take my time with you.”

you’re sure he’s going to leave bruises on your thighs from how hard he’s gripping you, his calloused fingers digging into your soft flesh. but everything about him is so arousing, and you’re equally as drunk off of him as he is to you. shoyo thinks he’s died and gone to whatever version of heaven there might be. placebo effect be damned, he swears on his life that your pussy tastes so much sweeter whenever he eats you out while you’re wearing your dress.

“got yourself all pretty for me, didn’t you? you knew that i would like this, that i’d want to fuck you senseless after seeing you in it. was that your plan from the start?” hinata asks breathlessly. he swallows back more of your slick, and his cock keens inside of his pants, his tip sticky and swollen and wanting literally any form of attention. but he can push that aside for now. now, he wants to enjoy the sight laid out before him, of your already fucked out face and your body covered in the delicate lace and sheer fabric he’s dreamt of, legs spread out the way he likes it and pussy drooling for no one but him. 

knowing that you put this on for him, that you dressed up for him, that you wanted to look good for him makes his dick so hard that it hurts. he promises to himself that he’s going to buy out some poor lingerie store’s entire stock just to see you in different colors and materials, and he’s going to fuck your brains out in each and every single one of them until you’re sick of even the letter ‘b’ in babydoll. 

“gonna make you cum on my tongue, yeah? love making you fall apart on my mouth,” he breathes against your cunt. he chuckles when he can feel you clenching up around his tongue, flicking at your hole and making your toes curl. “gonna fuck you on my cock after that then, doll. that sound good to you? gonna make you cum and squirt so you know just how badly all of this gets to me.”

this is going to become a bad habit of his, more addictive than anything else he could imagine, only making his obsession with everything that has to do with you so much worse.

KAGEYAMA TOBIO + ANYTHING WITH WHITE LACE

as much as kageyama tobio hates to admit it, he undeniably has a bit of a romantic streak. his love for volleyball, his dedication to bettering himself, his constant search for the one that continues to challenge him to unseen heights: it all points to the unending ache in his heart that searches for someone to be by his side.

only a part of that desire gets quenched when he falls for you. you were his first, and he’s determined to make you his last. it’s only logical, in his mind, that seeing you in white is enough to awaken something like a sleeper agent inside of him. it makes you think of the day you’ll be decked from head to toe in a beautiful white dress and a lacy white veil, and he’ll stare at you as if he’s falling in love all over again, barely holding back his tears as he waits for you to meet him at the altar.

it’s not his fault that he wants to make that dream a reality so badly. you can feel the way kageyama stiffens and struggles to meet your eyes whenever you wear white around him, be it anything from a simple pajama t-shirt to something more formal. it drives him wild, and it makes him want to eat you up, to pin you down and drink up the sight of you in that pretty color, to let whatever restraint left inside of him go completely.

it takes him a surprisingly long time for him to actually bring the idea of lingerie to you. it becomes a bit of a guilty secret of his. he buys all sorts of pretty, lacy white bras, crotchless panties, and matching sets, only to get shy and hide it away in his closet. it’s not that he doesn’t trust you, but he wonders if he’s ramping things up too quickly, if his love might become smothering to you.

but if anything, you’re worse than he is. you’re more than happy to don whatever piece he sheepishly offers up to you, and seeing you baring yourself up to him in the lingerie he could only fantasize about makes his throat close up. blood rushes to his cock, hardening almost too quickly for him to process, and his dick feels like it’s about to explode. he whines when you press up against him and coo something sweetly towards him. your hands rub against the bulge in his pants as you press your clothed tits against his chest, his cock twitches painfully when he notices the way the lace trim moves with the plush flesh.

it’s bad. he begs you to ride him, to take his cock so he can see your entire body covered in the lacy material that mimics bridalwear so temptingly. he likes hooking his fingers around the waistline of your panties just to feel the lace ride against his skin.

“so pretty- looks so good on you-,” he slurs as you buck your hips. you grin down at him, loving how fucked out and pussy drunk he looks, the way he cries out whenever you slide down his length and let his cock breach your tight hole. “gonna cum just from staring at you… fuck, you’re so fucking tight…!”

“do you like how i look?” you reach for his wrists, and kageyama feels like he’s going to die when you glide his large, calloused palms over the curve of your hips. he gropes at your figure, moaning loudly when he can feel the white fabric moving underneath his knuckles. you smile down at him, and you make sure to bounce your tits in his face to give your boyfriend a good show. “you wanted me to wear this for you, didn’t you?”

he nods frantically. his balls are straining against your ass, and your pussy won’t quit clenching up around him. he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he didn’t think you would take his thinly veiled fetish and turn it immediately against him. “you look good- look so, so good- wanna cum inside you…”

“yeah?” you repeat. you drag his hands up to your breasts, the white lace barely covering your hardened nipples. you groan his name when he touches you, his fingers pinching at your nipples and desperately squeezing at your tits. “you wanna cum inside of me while i’m wearing this? is that why you’re so hard right now? your cock’s so hard inside of me, tobio… feels so good when i ride it.”

he clenches his eyes shut at your praise, and satisfaction stirs deep inside of you when his cock twitches in your pussy. you speed up your pace a little bit, and his moans grow high-pitched, his hands gripping onto your chest to ground himself to no avail. heat blooms all over his body, and he can’t hold on much longer. your body feels too good. your pussy’s melting his dick, squeezing him into utter submission. knowing that you’re more than willing to let his lovesick fantasies play out makes him want to fuck his cock so deep and hard into you, to stuff his cum all up into your womb until it leaks out of you and drips down your thighs into a sticky mess.  

you click your tongue down at him. “eyes open, tobio. you’re the one that wanted to see me in this lingerie… don’t tell me that you’re chickening out now.”

“don’t- don’t tease me-,” he pants, the ragged edge in his voice has the arousal in your gut churning. he glares up at you, and the hunger and barely concealed restraint in his eyes are almost palpable. 

his hands drop from your chest down to your hips. he drags your hips up his swollen length and then forces you all the way down, snapping his hips up so that his whole, thick cock plows its way into you. red, hot electric pleasure shoots up your spine, and he manages to rip a strangled cry of his name out of you.

“is this what you wanted?” kageyama hisses. “i can play this game with you. don’t blame me if i end up knocking you up after all of this.” 

TSUKISHIMA KEI + MAID COSTUMES

despite his uptight, holier-than-thou attitude he displays at times, tsukishima kei can’t deny the simpler pleasures of seeing his pretty girlfriend dressed up in a frilly maid costume with a short, short skirt. he is just a man, at the end of the day, and something about coming home after a long shift at the museum to see you greet him in the cute costume with your hair and makeup all done for him makes his body flush. 

you’re so eager to shower him with attention, to help him unwind, to call him “sir” and “master kei” in that singsong voice of yours, and you prancing around in front of him and accidentally flashing him your dainty panties whenever the skirt bounces up too high is only the beginning.

part of him wants to shove the tiny skirt up to your waist and bending you over on the nearest surface to fuck you out on his cock, hearing you choke out his name just so he can shove his fingers into your mouth and scold you about not using the proper honorifics with him. another part of him wants to take his time with you, to feel you shudder as he slowly drags his lithe fingers up your thighs, unwrapping you like his own personal present, and making you suck him off while still fully dressed all so he can cum on your costume and hear you squeal about the mess he’s making. 

it’s not like he’s pressed for time now that he’s done with work. there’s no need to pick between the two equally tempting options when he can just do both with you.

“what a messy maid i’ve got here… you’re drooling all over me. can’t take it?” a big hand tugs at your hair, surprisingly gentle despite the harsh edge to his words. you’re struggling to fit more of tsukishima’s long cock into your mouth without using your hands, tied behind your back with a white bow that matches the rest of the decorations on your maid costume. 

you swallow around him. your mouth feels so full with his length, his girth already making you struggle to wrap your lips around him fully. you like it though, you like testing your limits like this, the warm tightness of your mouth and throat serving to pleasure tsukishima the best you can. after all, a maid’s job is to live for whatever her master wants, isn’t it?

you gag slightly on his dick when tsukishima tries to push you down a bit deeper. saliva dots the edges of your lips and coats his throbbing length. you mimic the motion of sex the best you can, bobbing your head up and down as much of him as you can possibly take. you flutter your eyelashes up at him sweetly, despite the fact that you’re blowing him off and looking more like a pornstar than you are a truly innocent maid. but it’s you, and that’s what matters more than anything else to tsukishima. 

“there’s a good girl…,” he coos down at you, and the loose smirk hanging off of his lips makes your pussy throb. it’s always hard to tell when he’s genuinely praising you versus when he’s only pretending to, but it turns you on so badly to know that he’s the one in control of everything. you slobber shamelessly around him as you daydream about how good it would feel to take his thick cock inside of your pussy. he would stretch you out so good, and just the thought of cumming and creaming on his dick makes you drool that much harder around him, like a dog to a bone.

he keeps twitching and pulsing inside of your mouth, and you know he’s close from how he’s gripping your hair and his low groans. you want it. you want him to cum inside of your mouth, and you want to swallow it all. but he has other plans in mind, and despite how expertly you swirl your tongue around his sensitive head and moan at the salty taste of his pre-cum spreading all over the inside of your cheeks and in the back of your throat, tsukishima refuses to give you the satisfaction of the heady taste of his semen flooding your mouth. 

he yanks himself out of your mouth, and you whine, your throat and mouth deprived of him. you stick your tongue out, feeling like a kid with their toy stolen away, and you wiggle your hips unconsciously, arousal dripping from between your thighs and surely making a mess out of your thin panties. 

“ah, ah, not so quick,” the blond laughs down at you breathlessly. you watch with deprived and enchanted eyes as he finishes himself off, denying yourself even the pleasure of drinking his cum, and you let out a pathetic whimper when he cums on you instead. his hot cum burns your skin, hot and sticky and heavy, and it goes all over your face, your skimpily clothed chest, into your hair, and enough to flood your senses. 

you lick at your lips, the salty taste not quite enough to satisfy you completely. you need more, you want all of it inside your pussy, you’re not going to be happy with being teased and having your prize dangled in front of your eyes tantalizingly. tsukishima knows this, and he knows that a good maid should never get all needy in front of her master.

he grips your face as you try to wipe and collect his cum to lick off of your fingers. you look like a disaster, your costume now askew and his cum staining so much of your body. 

“did you actually think you deserve my cum, sweetheart?” he asks, eyes narrowing slightly into a dark sneer. you barely suppress a shudder as his cock slowly hardens again, and it might just be your imagination but it looks thicker, longer, harder than it was mere minutes ago. he smiles mockingly at you as if he can detect your anticipation mixed with fear. “my messy maid… if you want it that badly, you’re going to have to work a little bit harder for it.”

KUROO TETSUROU + PLAYBOY BUNNY

kuroo tetsurou wasn’t always the silver-tongued, handsome man he is today. people always laugh when he recounts his younger days, especially when he was nothing more than a nerdy high schooler with horrible bedhead, an affinity for chemistry, and an incessant love for his school’s volleyball team. he doesn’t have too much trouble garnering attention nowadays, but there was a point in his life when all he had to quell his own confusing teenager hormones was a pile of trusty playboy magazines stashed discreetly underneath his bed. 

it makes his cheeks prickle with embarrassment to think too long about the scantily dressed women in all of the pictures and pin-ups, worn out after years of use, but he’d be lying if he said seeing the models dressed up in the signature bunny custom didn’t do something to his adolescent mind. even though it’s so lewd, there’s something classy about the way the costume accentuates the figure and leaves just enough covered for the imagination.

it’s no wonder that that became his first pick when the idea of dressing up for him came up. and god, the sight of you shyly approaching him in the same costume that became such a staple in his heart makes him want to eat you up whole. nothing you do can cover yourself from his hawk-like eyes, and seeing you squirm and trying to hide under your hands or arms makes him want to turn you into a mess where you can’t hide any part of yourself from him.

“mmm… it fits you perfectly, doll,” a low voice rasps from behind you. kuroo’s thick thighs make the perfect seat for you, and your stomach does a flip when you can feel the tent in his pants rubbing up against your ass. the leather of the costume’s main piece does wonders to your body. they push up your tits perfectly, and that coupled with a pair of sensual black stockings, red bottom heels (which kuroo generously paid for which earned him a long lecture from you after you saw the price tag), and the cutest little bunny tail on your ass makes you the vision of a wet dream come true. 

he grips your hips, big hands feeling up the curves of your waist and ass. he rocks you back and forth on his bulge, and you’re rewarded with a groan from somewhere deep in his throat when he feels the electric sparks of having his favorite girl grinding against his erection. you pick up the rhythm, rocking your hips against him, the act so desperate and so carnal despite the layers of clothing between the two of you.

“you have- hah- no fucking clue how long i’ve imagined you like this-,” kuroo chuckles. his big palms go from your waist up to your chest, and your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his calloused fingers hover over your tits. goosebumps dot your skin as he starts to slowly grope your chest, earning you yet another provocative moan from him when he keeps rutting into the soft flesh of your ass.

you bite down on your bottom lip, grinding down on him to stimulate your clit. it feels good, the dull blooms of pleasure doing wonders for the heat creeping all over your body. the idea of cumming untouched like this makes your head spin, and you want it more than anything else. you want your hole to become a leaking, cock-hungry mess all from dressing up in a lewd bunny costume for kuroo and from humping into each other like animals in heat. you know it’s going to make being fucked out his cock eventually feel that much better. 

“please, tetsu-,” you whine, your nails digging into his forearms. your voice is high strung and strained, whiny and girly just the way he likes it best. “wanna cum- wanna cum for you… you feel so big already… wanna take your cock inside me too…!”

“yeah? you want that too? keep talking like that, and i’ll fucking lose it for real…,” he grunts. you yelp when he bites down on your shoulder, sharp teeth marking up your unmarked skin and the sudden sting has your cunt clenching up painfully. the thrums of arousal thrashing in your core are all your mind can grip onto, and the shape of kuroo’s cock straining against his pants and grinding into your swollen clit makes your whole body feel weak.

you’re glad kuroo’s enjoying this so much, that he can prop your body up the way he wants you to. he’s so strong even in the midst of this sex-induced haze, and knowing that he has nothing but this kind of insane desire for you makes you feel almost giddy. it’s nice; it’s powerful to know that you have this effect on him. 

“gonna cum for me, bunny? while you’re all dressed up and pretty in my lap?” kuroo laughs. you nod, the faux ears atop your head threatening to go askew. his hands massage at your chest, every part of your body egging him on constantly. he kisses over the bite marks he left on you, the switch between loving appreciation and starved lust telling you everything you need to know about how this whole thing with him is going to end.

it’s a no-brainer that he thinks you look absolutely ravishing in his favorite outfit, but he swears that the costume is gonna look even better when it’s all crumpled on the floor, your naked body bared all for him. you’re going to look so cute, so innocent, and so adorable bouncing in his lap as he pinches your nipples from behind, that teasing tone of his pushing you towards an unending series of orgasms. kuroo can’t wait to feel you fall apart in his arms, to feel your helpless pussy fucked out on his cock. 

“that’s my girl,” he praises you, voice hushed and sultry. “my pretty, obedient bunny. cum all you want. gonna make sure that’s all you do for the next little while…”

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