#mwah mwah mwah i wish there was more of the same writers. they did such a good job

[bluebelledmoon]

bro. i nearly forgot. and DAMN was this prominent in Sonic Boom. That show was literally just full of love and charactery goodness, exploring the characters in a new light while having the opportunity to put sonic and crew in a whole random shit ton of situations. don’t you dare try to tell me the episodes about tails having a crush and looking to the gang for love advice, and only succeeding in his relationship when he listens to EGGMAN, the episode about eggman wanting to beat sonic before the end of the year, and sonic letting him win so that eggman could be happy, or sticks fighting a zombie army of hee friends where they’ve been hypnotized by a robot taking over their minds through a tv at night and breaking the fourth wall WASNT injected with love and fun by the creators. heck, even the episode about cubot staying as a leader for the runaway defect cubots and him eventually getting sad and missing orbot so much that he goes back to work for eggman is so wonderful.

it might not be been directly just the sonic team working on that, but damn if that doesn’t show just how blorbofied they are

i don’t think the show would’ve ever pulled it off without the love that was put into the depth of these characters that’s developed so well over the years, making these characters so 3 dimentional and lovable.

ever since i really joined the sonic fandom and started thinking in depth about the characters, i keep thinking about that one post where someone said that the characters you wrote have to have the potential to be a blorbo to someone. they have to be a blorbo to them.

from what i can tell, i feel like the sonic team really loves their characters and loves to explore them and put them in the funkiest little situations just for the heck of it, like the SUPER cute game The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog. like. no one was asking for that. but damn did we gobble it up

[toomiieimagiines]

hihihi

uhm so am i allowed to request again (i don’t wanna spam) 😭😭🙏

and if i am can u pls do a rui x hopeless romantic best friend reader (i’m totally normal about best friends to lovers lmfao)

so like the reader is always yapping about hot guys and it’s a little angsty at first because rui is thinking to himself ‘why did i have to fall inlove with someone that won’t ever choose me’ and then one day a hot guy comes up to reader and asks her out, reader is about to say yes but then she realises that she barely knew him and there was someone (rui) who had been by her side since day one and she figures out who she really loves (RUIII) so she rejects him and when rui asks why she just hugs him and says ‘because your the one i really want’ mwah mwah i feel like such a genius (i really hope this made sense lmao be prepared for a million bestie-> lovers and angst-> fluff rui requests 😼)

thank youyoyoyoyoyuuu!!

hi guys! i’m so so incredibly sorry for how inactive i have been! unfortunately, the fanfic writer curse caught up to me, and i’ve had considerably bad things happen to me! ToT

i had developed a really bad addiction after a recent episode - which may be why i’ve loved to write my characters so miserable, but they get a happy ending in the end - and have recently relapsed after a couple months. i’ve also been struggling with a lot of things, like being bullied again, pressure from theater, classes, autism, parental issues, memory of past trauma, having no friends, things like that. i’ve just been having a really hard time, so writing has been super difficult for me. i’m currently having some of the worst mental health in my life, and am un-recovering from other things i’ve had in the past too, after seeing the results of my recovery. sorry if this triggered anybody, i just needed to get this off my chest, and felt also that i should explain where i have been. you all supporting me has kept me going, and i hope you enjoy this one too! LETS END THE PITY PARTY!!!

in other - not so depressing news - here you guys go!! sorry for OOCness, obviously this is a more dramatic approach to a story! happy ending, j tried to write the inner narration differently for how you two were feeling at the time.. and ty once again for such a great idea, mama ^3^

“I don’t think I could stand to be where you don’t see me.”

If he has to sit here and listen to this one more time, he thinks he’ll go insane.

Rui Kamishiro loves you. He truly does. You’re his best friend, his partner in crime, his-

Never mind.

Rui loves you, but he absolutely HATES your taste in guys, and it’s driving him nuts. Nodding and agreeing can only get him so far before he wants to rip his own hair out, and tonight is no exception.

“I give up! All boys are dumb, I don’t need them!” You lament, resting your chin in your hands. It’s the same song and dance over and over. You swear off boys, you get attention, you get sucked in, and he has to pick up the pieces when it inevitably fails. How many times has he thought about how much better he would treat you now? He doesn’t know. He’d be a classical lover, he’d never speak to you the way those stupid unprincipled high school boys do.

Gross. That’s his best friend, why’d he think that? And when did he start being so self confident? He really outta look at himself in the mirror. What an egomaniac he’s turning out to be.

He shakes his head.

“You do know I’m still a boy, right?” He prods, trying to cheer you up. He knows this situation well, and he knows exactly how to make you feel better. Again he’d pull you out of this, and again he’d watch you fall in love.

He wishes you could be happy. He wishes you weren’t in love with being in love. You’re too pure for true love, love is disgusting, depraved, and unkind. You’re not anything like that.

“I know, I know, but you’re the only good one!” You point, words self-assured. “I don’t need a boyfriend, you do everything boyfriendy for me anyway!”

Ouch. Thanks a lot, that’s exactly what he needed to hear right now. He’s not gonna dwell on that last bit for now, he’ll wait until he’s home. Then he can- he doesn’t know. Cry, or something juvenile like that.

“So I’m back-up-boyfriend?” He masks himself in jest, smiling teasingly at you.

“Eh, maybe,” you snicker, “you’d definitely be cute if you weren’t my friend.”

He turns to his school work sharply, trying to mask his complete and utter despair. Ugh, why does he have to be so dramatic? His own personality makes his skin crawl with disgust and hatred, and that only makes him cringe more. He could think about how obnoxious he is all day. Maybe he should use that go home and cry pass early. He pretends to check the time, as if that isn’t all he’s been doing.

“It’s getting late, after this problem I should get going.” He mutters, scribbling some random numbers into his notebook. You yawn in response, being broken out of absentmindedly scrolling through your phone.

“Ugh, I wish you didn’t have to go!” You drape an arm over his torso, trying to hold him in. He smiles fondly, wrestling to get you off of him.

“I’d have to walk home in the dark then, do you want that?” He knows you’d never let him, and he sees it immediately.

Your face looks knowing, and you let him go right away. It amuses him at first, but quickly fills him with overwhelming pity. You’re so kindhearted it makes him sick. You shouldn’t worry about someone like him, it’s bad for your health.

“Would you like me to walk home with you?!” You shoot up, the idea of him not being safe running through your head. Maybe he should’ve kept his mouth shut. How emasculating! He’s not a helpless young girl! He’s just as manly as those boys who you long for, he’s not a puppy to be walked!

God, is jealously turning him into a bigot? He shakes his head once again, this time not just to clear his thoughts. He’s absolutely not letting you walk him home, it’d be mortifying. He takes your attention belly up, you should have a break. Maybe some time to yourself for a change? God, Rui, get a grip.

“I’m fine, I don’t want you out late by yourself either,” he assures, looking at you in haste.

“Ah. You have a point.”

“I always do.” He means more to that, and he wishes he could tell you. He wants you to see that even he knows what he’s talking about. He needs you to see him, just for once. Not as a best friend, or backup boyfriend, just as a regular one. As a lover who dances in the rain, or ties your shoes

He needs to stop. He shouldn’t think about you like that. It’s lecherous.

You two exchange goodbyes, giving him a long hug (much to his horror). He hates how feverish it is it hold you like this, it makes him feel guilty. His body gets hot, his cheeks flare up, his throat feels tight- it makes him feel like a pervert, even if his thoughts are the farthest thing from lewd.

He feels that everything he thinks about you is repulsive, though.

“Be safe”’s and “See you later”’s are passed between you two, and he walks down your front steps, now completely alone. His eyes scan the damp pavement, seeing the golden hues from the sky light the boring rock. That’s how he feels about you, he decides. You’re the sun, and he’s the pavement. He humors himself by thinking that your suitors are the clouds, stopping you from shining your light for him so he can grow weeds in the cracks of his soul. That’s what these feelings are. Weeds.

He wants to live life beautifully with you, he decides. He wants to tie your shoes, he wants to twirl you as you dance.

He wishes he could be the moon. Something of consequence- of importance, but he’s just the pavement. Not the earth, not the stars, not the clouds, or rain, he’s just a man made monster who destroys nature - you - and is walked over by people who do matter.

He should quit being this way, he grumbles, it doesn’t do anybody any good to be so flowery. He’s too girly- too weak. Maybe that’s why you don’t like him. If you’re willing to date anything that moves other than him, that must mean he’s on a completely new level, huh?

That’s what dreaming gets you, Rui. Crushed dreams and embarrassment.

He lets out a pitiful sigh, kicking a pebble with his shoe. He sees a worm in a lawn which reminds him of himself, he sees a couple shopping for a new game which reminds him of you, he sees a convenience store which reminds him that he’s hungry-

His life can be so mundane sometimes, what a drag.

He’s about to reach his front door, when he steps into a puddle. It feels like an appropriate representation of his life right now. A sense of disgraceful hilarity washes over him, and he begins to laugh. He laughs a while, he laughs as he takes his shoes off, he laughs as he peels his button up down, and he laughs as he lays in his bed. How dramatic he could be some times!

He falls asleep quickly. He has a dream about being on stage and forgetting his lines.

He wakes up with a thud, he fell out of bed. How embarrassing. He decides to check his phone.

Weirdo: RUII

Weirdo: wanna hang w me 2day?? u don’t have dance time right??

Weirdo: gonna kill you. WAKE UP

Me: I’m awake, sorry!

Weirdo: finally sleeping beauty

Weirdo: wanna get a snack? i’m simply starved…

Me: When?

Weirdo: an hr maybe…

Me: Okay :) I’ll tell you when I leave.

Weirdo: kay!!

He really doesn’t feel like being social today, but he’d never pass up an opportunity to see you. He’s an obscene degenerate when it comes to you, pouncing on your attention like a sick dog. It’s mortifyingly pathetic.

He gets dressed, throwing on a boring striped sweater. It’s getting colder outside recently, and he’s always ran cold anyway. His hands are shaky and nervous as he brushes his teeth, the anxiousness to see you making his body jittery. He considers breakfast, but quickly shuts the idea down. He doesn’t want to be stressed out - at least more than he already is - when he sees you. Twitchy hands lock his door, and he gets a few feet away before he double checks that he did, in fact, lock it. Pull yourself together, Rui! He screams at himself.

The walk is just as unexciting as he expected, albeit a bit chilly. He’s feeling thankful for the sweater. The breeze runs its hands through his hair, and he’s reminded that winter is coming. He always liked Autumn flowers the best, hibiscus flowers are pretty too, he supposes. It’s nice to have the warmth of the sun soothing his cold hands during summer, for sure.

He trips over a rock on the way, and his pants get wet on the knees. Khaki blends into an ugly brown, and he sighs. How unlucky, would anything go right for him today?

Turns out it will, you look really good today.

You great him at the door, practically buzzing with eagerness. It makes him smile, knowing that you do, in fact, want to see him. Or at least are acting like it. You’re a good friend to him, he’s lucky to have you.

“Rui!” You hug him as a greeting, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. His heart soothes, eyes closing in relaxation. Problems feel obscure and distant when you two are like this, despite his reluctance last night. He can forget about corrupt feelings - or misguided love- and he can just be your best friend. Despite his apprehension to be cared for, he is flattered that you, at least, seem to like him.

“Hey.” He breaths you in, his voice soft. He hopes you don’t notice, it’s embarrassing.

“Hey!” You reply, pulling away. “Big things planned, Rui!”

“What big things?” He asks, amused. “Big things” for you were junk food and shopping.

“Big things! It’s a surprise!” You put your shoes on, and he can’t help but feel jealous as he watches your hands tie them dutifully. He sighs, stretching. He decides to make it a challenge to act normal the whole day. No weird thoughts are going to beguile his mind, he promises himself.

You lock your front door, twisting the knob to make sure that it did, in fact, lock. This fills him with a child-like sense of delight, maybe you two really were similar.

Nah, not possible. You’re too pure - too perfect. Ugh, Rui, no more stupid thoughts.

He watches you check the time, make a face at a nearby bird, and cover your cheeks with your hands. You suddenly perk up, wrapping your arms around him.

“Warm me up, will ya?” You scowl at the cool air, grip tightening. He gulps. It’s weird he reacts like this, considering you two have done things like this all the time. It’s normal, so why does he have to be such a creep? His arms wrap around yours, running his hands up and down to create heat.

“Should’ve worn a jacket,” he chides, “wouldn’t be cold, y’know?” His voice is so casual, like everything is totally fine. It is fine. Fine, fine, fine.

“Gotta look good. I’m on the hunt, obviously,” you joke. It isn’t funny to him, but he lets out a laugh.

“You’re hopeless.”

You two stop at a convenience store first, and you all but sprint to the drinks. He had this ritual down to a science. You grab two different color slushies, and he grabs whatever odd snack catches your collective stomachs eye today. Today the two of you decide to split a cookie, and walk to the counter. The cashier gives you a smirk, and he averts his eyes.

“This it?” The boy cocks his head, and you get the memo. You immediately jump on the opportunity.

“Mhm!” You wink, resting your chin in your hands while leaning against the counter. In all honestly, he wasn’t even that cute. At least, that’s what Rui kept telling himself.

“Don’t worry about it, than. I got you guys,” he waves you off. Score! You think, but he adds. “If I can get your number.” Rui feels like falling into the floor, how awkward! You just scribble it onto a stray receipt, winking.

“Thank you! You’re the sweetest!!” You singsong, skipping along with Rui following suite. You immediately burst into laughter, throwing a fake punch at Rui. “What a weirdo! Like I’d call him over what, 1000 yen?! I don’t even know him, yuck!”

So you did have some sense, he feels like letting out a sigh of relief. You hold your hands out.

“Which one do you want? I got your favorite!!” You look so proud, and he wants to laugh. His “favorite” isn’t actually his favorite, but he’d never tell you that.

The lie started one day in middle school, when the two of you suddenly had a weird craving for slushies. When you picked them out, you had gotten a red one and a blue one, and asked him what he wanted. While he really didn’t like red, he knew you liked blue, so he said red. Now for the past four years, you’ve always ended up getting him a red one, thinking it was his favorite. He’ll deal with it for you. Seeing your blue tongue stick out with brain freeze is better than any sugary drink anyway.

“Red, duh.” He scoffs playfully, taking a sip of it. The taste doesn’t really bother him all that much anymore. It reminds him of you.

You always let him divide the snacks, thinking he gives himself the bigger half. He never does, but he eats slower so you think he did. You skip along, enjoying it.

“Y’know, this isn’t bad. Wish they had the brownie, though. That never does us wrong.” God, don’t make him think of the ‘crack brownies’ - as you two call them. Those are great, and he likes them, so you never miss an opportunity to shove them down his throat.

“Don’t complain. Remember the egg roll incident?” He points, laughing at the memory. You two steer clear of that section now, having gotten sick.

“Ugh, I haven’t thought about that in a while! I’m never eating an egg roll again after that day! Ugh,” you gag.

Moments of silly memories like this make him feel like he’s known you forever. He can’t even remember a moment where he hasn’t loved you.

“Where’re we going now, commander?” He salutes, following the trail of sunshine you left behind.

“Where ever the wind blows us, kind sir!” You salute back, pushing him along. Your constant checks of your phone don’t go unnoticed by him, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes.

“Who’re you texting? Don’t tell me it’s that guy.” He tries to sound casual, knocking his shoulder against yours playfully.

“‘M not a total idiot, I’ll have you know!” You huff, holding your phone to your chest. “It’s just somebody we went to school with a while back, ‘m seeing if I can pull the moves.”

“Do I know him?”

“Dunno, never saw you two talking, so maybe not. He was in my english class, remember, the only class we didn’t have together?”

“Ah.”

You two walk in silence, except for when he yanks you back from the collar so you don’t walk into oncoming traffic, which amuses you greatly. You two soon arrive at the small mall, and he tails you as you run with excitement. You two browse everything, constantly pointing out cute plushies, or interesting keychains.

“Rui, look! Look!” You shake him, pointing to the back of somebody’s head inconspicuously. “Wait don’t yet- Okay, now! He’s turning around! That’s the guy! What a coincidence we see him here, right? Do you recognize him?”

Ha. Yeah, he knows this guy. He definitely knows him. He’s the one who would trip him during passing periods, he’s the one who left flowers on his desk. They make eye contact, and it’s like all of his growth left his body. He’s just the same freak from middle school, he’s still thirteen.

He shudders at the guys smirk, sensing that he definitely knows that Rui knows him. He jogs over to the two of you, and Rui already knows what’s about to happen, due to the lopsided smile on your face.

Damnit, this is the first time he doesn’t think he can act like it’s okay.

“Oh wow, what a coincidence! Must be fate we run into each other like this, ehe…” You giggle awkwardly, a dumb expression gracing your face. It’s painful seeing you that way for anybody other than him, and he looks away awkwardly.

“Must be.” He answers, swaggering closer towards you. Rui thanks whatever God above because - despite his current situation - at least this asshole didn’t go to highschool with you guys.

He looks down at his shoes, and tries to shuffle away, knowing this jackass is about to say something. He’s quickly stopped.

“Who’s this, huh? Feel like a recognize him from somewhere…” He trails off, smirking through his nose as he turns his attention to him. “Have we met before?”

“This is Kamishiro Rui, he’s my friend! He went to middle school with us, remember?” You happily answer for him.

Ha, friend? What happened to back-up boyfriend? He’s a little hurt, to be honest.

He feels bitter, it’s unbecoming- God, he doesn’t care. He should feel bad for getting so angry over it, it’s not like you belong to him. He’s such a freak, getting attached to you like this.

He starts to pick at his fingers, then he plays with a loose string on his sweater. You two continue to chat like nothings wrong, and he keeps thinking. It’s something he’s gotten good at recently.

He stops feeling bad about himself for a second- a split second where he resents you, and wishes his pain upon you. Wants you to know what it’s like to be so disgustingly, guiltily, revoltingly obsessed with someone. In this split second, he can’t even find it in himself to feel guilty about it, which is unlike him. He wishes you felt love like this, that you were as psychotic about it.

But this doesn’t last long, because he remembers that he loves you more than anything. He’s lucky to be your friend. You’re a great friend, you’re an amazing person, you’re the sun, the sun, the sun.

He’s the pavement, he has to remember.

“I’m- I’ll leave you to it, y’know? Fabric store.” He stutters, choking on his voice. You don’t even notice, waving him off.

You do, however, remember to press his shoulder, uttering an absentminded “Okay, Rui, bye,” and he remembers again how perfect you are for doing it subconsciously. He lets himself feel the touch, long after he’s walked away. He deserves it after the trouble he’s reliving.

When he makes it to the fabric store - which he really didn’t need anything from, Nene had gotten some the other day - he can’t help himself from wishing he could just go home. Malls were always overwhelming already, and now his saving grace has the attention of another man. He walks through aisles, but realizes that he now has to buy something.

‘Least he knows that social cue, he laughs bitterly, running his hands across his face in frustration. He’s so ridiculous.

Meanwhile, you were chatting up a storm. It was your first time talking in person since middle school, after all! You feel giddy for a while, but it cuts abruptly. You feel a strange sense of urgency, something’s missing.

Oh, your best friend.

But where had he gone? You’re sure he was just here. You smile apologetically at the cute boy, putting on your best performance.

“Oh, I better go get my friend now. I don’t like walking home when it’s late. Was nice seein’ you, let’s hang out soon, ‘kay?” You singsong, stepping closer. You want to give yourself a pat on the back, you’re so cute.

He rolls his eyes, and you’re hit with a wave of uneasiness. That noise he made sounds strangely dismissive, he’s not the kind of guy to be a jerk though, you must be hearing things-

“Leave ‘im. Between you and me, he was a total freak in middle school. Probably is now, too. Probably likes you or somethin’, total nutcase.” His voice sounds so casual, like it’s not the douchiest thing you’ve heard all day.

You let other men walk all over you, sure. You let them cheat on you, lie, whatever. But you’re not about to stand here and insult Rui. He’s the only untouched thing in your life - the only person who isn’t cruel. He’s so gangly and awkward, but in the best way. You could live a million times and not be able to deserve him, at least you think so. He’s so unusual, and that’s what you love most about him. Little things like not liking loud lights, or liking the red slushies the best, make your heart buzzy with familiarity. He’s the one constant in your life.

You’ve been awfully worried about him recently, though. His particularly (as you like to call it) has gone to the an extreme, and it’s been a battle getting him to eat real food. You’re not blind, you see the way he’s been spacing out, or tapping a little too much. You just thought he’d been overwhelmed. He worries you to death sometimes, but despite all of his own struggles, he always seems to not care about it, deciding to always be there for you instead. Ah, he’s just such an amazing guy - no, not guy, he’s not anything like those other boys you talk to. He’d never insult someone like that. He’s not just a guy, he’s like your person.

Yeah, he’s definitely your person.

Your heart sputters at the thought, and you feel something you’ve never really felt before - save for hugs between the two of you that lasted just a second too long, or words a little too romantic. The feeling makes your mind fuzzy, and your heart hurt terribly with something you could only place as homesickness.

Oh.

“I,” you begin, backing away. “Yeah, I’m sorry but I’ll really be going now-“

“What? C’mon I was just messing with you, even though having guy friend’s kinda weird.” He rolls his eyes.

“Yeah whatever, I’ll call you back,” you say dismissively.

You’re totally lying, you laugh, you’re not calling him back.

He didn’t seem to like that.

“Damn, can’t even joke around with you people. Whatever, weirdo, sorry I insulted your little boyfriend.” The change in tone amuses you.

Yeah, good riddance, pal.

You turn away, walking through the mall with pace. It takes a while, but you spot him watching a pet stores aquarium.

He’s a funny one.

You wave your hands, trying to get his attention. He swallows, knowing that it’s probably to ask him if it’s cool to walk home by himself. Emotions are stupid, and ironically, you both think that at the same time.

“Rui! Rui! Hey c’mon, let’s go home, yeah?” You smile, face feeling warm. It’s a different feeling from when you usually talk to him. He looks at you, a little shocked. He had assumed you were smiling wide because you set up a date, so he turns his head.

“Where is he, huh?” He looks away, back to the fish tank. You shift in place, was he mad at you? You’re a little irritated at the mention of the guy, though, and huff.

“Don’t worry about that. Seems like I only attract douchebags, so I decided to go.” You explain, poking his shoulder. “Hey,” you start, “let’s just walk home, I wanna talk to you about something.” The idea makes you feel dizzy, but you’ll have to illustrate your feelings one day.

You can leave out the “I think I’m in love with you” part, you think.

The two of you walk in an excruciating silence, staring down at the reflection of the setting sun in the puddles. His heart tightens, remembering his earlier comparison. Even now, you’re so perfect. Even if he’s frustrated with you - despite you turning down the guy in the end (he doesn’t know why, he wanted to ask) - even if he’s ready to scream, and cry, and ask you what it is he did for you to be so turned off by him, he still thinks you’re the most heavenly, divine person to ever grace his view. He wants to be where you see him, he wants to be in your orbit.

“You’re like the sun-“ He blurts out, immediately regretting it. He didn’t mean to say that, God, he’s so fucking stupid. He sees you stop walking, smiling that same stupid, dopey, lopsided smile that he’s always so jealous of-

Oh. It’s for him.

He chokes, stopping to meet you eye-to-eye. You look up at him too, laughing giddily.

“What does that mean?”

He sputters, stepping away. “N-no it’s nothing- It was stupid anyway so-“

“No, tell me!” You urge, laughing a little harder. “What if it was something bad, ‘nd you were making fun of me? That’s not nice, Rui!”

“I- Hey-“ His voice goes a touch higher, a defensive tone rising. “That’s not-“

“Then tell me.”

“It’s just,” he breaths, trying to word it in the least creepy way possible. How does convey the fact that he sees you as a divine presence, that he sees himself as a worthless creature compared to you, without sounding like he’s hopelessly possessed by love for you? “I just- you’re so amazing,” he starts, “I thought of this stupid thing the other day when I was walking home - you know how I am - and well, I just thought of you when the sun reflected off the pavement - since it rained, y’know? - and well, it just- Sorry, it was dumb-“ He rambles, covering his face in anguish.

Nobody’s ever put that much thought into you. Sure, you’ve received a few ‘You’re so gorgeous’’s, where you’ve had to wonder where they learnt such a “big word”, but never something as poetic as that. The usual Rui-ratic explanation endeared you to him even more. You look at him, the smile never leaving. He’s just… so Rui. His stupid striped sweater, his half up hair - that you’d begged him to grow out - his eyes, whatever. Everything about him you treasure, and little do you know he cherished you even that more intensely.

“I think you’re the moon, Rui. Or maybe the earth, since I take care of you, hah!” You snicker, stepping closer to him. He takes a step back in return, and you grab his hands to make him stay put. His heart throbs, and he almost goes crashing down.

“I.. I don’t-“

You yank his hands, making him look back up at you. “Hey, Rui, I,” you look at him assuringly, “I wanna say something, and you can’t laugh okay?”

He holds his breath, so do you.

Fuck it, just tell him.

“I think I’m in love with you, Rui.” You gaze at him, the words shooting out faster than you can second guess them.

“I don’t-“ He breaks away, his fists balling up. You messed up, you think, you really, really messed up. “I’m not- I’m not going to- You can’t just say that because you got rejected. I- It wouldn’t be nice to- You don’t love me-“

“Rui,” you beg, grabbing his arm again, “holding hands on the way to school, cuddling while doing homework, knowing everything about eachother, these aren’t-“ You breath, “I’ve wanted somebody to love me for so long, Rui, and I was so blind to the fact that I was loved. But the love that I felt for you, - that I feel for you - Rui, isn’t the kind where I can be- where I can just be so- so normal about those things!” You monologue, saying whatever’s on your mind. You’re the rambling one now.

“I found myself comparing you to these piece-of-garbage dude’s I’m always with, wishing I could just date somebody like you instead! But now I realize that it is you-“

His heart falls into his gut, and he breaks free from you again. His hands move to his face, covering his eyes. His voice is broken and cracky as he begins to cry. “That was- you-“ He pulls you into a desperate embrace, arms holding you like you’ll disappear. “You shouldn’t, you’re wrong.” He sobs, “I’m- the way I love you is- You don’t understand, the way I feel isn’t normal I- My love is disgusting, and horrible, and depraved-“ He shakes, you rub his back. “You are so perfect compared to me, I’d never be able to- I love you so much, more than friends are supposed to, more than anyone’s supposed to at our age-“

“Rui, hey Rui please don’t cry.” You beg, smoothing out the ridges in his sweater. “I don’t- I don’t agree with that, and I can scream that at you, but I’m sure you won’t believe me. You’re not disgusting for feeling emotions different, Rui that’s what I love about you.”

“Stop- stop saying my name like that. It’s too hard to-“

“Rui, I love you. You don’t need to accept it, but I love you. More than being in love, more than being loved-“

“I love you, too,” his voice cracks, “that’s why I’m so scared. I don’t want to ruin a friendship that’s all I have, if this is just- I’m scared I’d lose you in any way, and I can’t live in a world where you don’t see me. I won’t. It’s sounds horrible but-“ He stops as you pull away from the hug, and wipes his face hastily. You put your pinky out, and his stomach drops again.

“C’mon, just like when we were kids. Pinky promise that no matter what, we’ll always see each other. That way you don’t need to worry anymore, y’know? I never break my kissy pinky promises, ever.”

Just like when you two were little.

He locks his with yours, just like you taught him all those years ago. He remembers your shared handshake for theater, he remembers your shared handshake for testing, and he remembers the song you two had to duet for choir - when you have forced him into it for a year. He holds everything of you so dear to his heart, you endear everything about him to you as well.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“I see you.”

“I see you, too.”

You two kiss your hands, then bring them down, still interlinked. You stare at him, and he stares back at you. In a moment of profound sincerity, you lean forward, and kiss him. It’s slow and gentle, and you unlock your hands half way through to hold his face, which he mirrors. His heart settles for the first time. You see him. He’s your moon, your earth, you’re his sun, his stars.

He’s suddenly alarmed by a quick pushing off of him, gasping out a “Rui!”

“I-“ he pants, wiping his mouth. “Hm?”

“we’re in the middle of a park!”

[manwiththemagic]

The writers of s11 were cowards. If IIIIIIIIIII was in charge I'd made Lucifer's weird obsession with Sam show up more. Like the writers have very obviously included it and yet when Lucifer is processing the same vessel as cas, and therefore pretending to be cas, he just fucks off and tortures Crowley with fucked up bdsm pet play.

Like the few times casifer and Sam interacted were GOLD. because Sam sees it as his best friend cas, and Lucifer (who keeps talking about Sam like they're toxic ex's) is pretending to be him!! Although not to well. Like his freaky smirk when sending Dean into the past and coming back to harass Sam? Dude lives off of sadistic pleasure.

The way he full on LAUGHS when Sam says he trusts him bc Sam thinks it's cas?? Like gold!?!? Don't know why the writers didn't do more with that.

Also why not do more with the 'lucifer sent Sam visions to get him down to hell'. Like Lucifer is Obsessed w/ sam because that body/vessel is "supposed to be" his. And yet after revealing himself he doesn't try and convince Sam anymore?

He's just given up? Like nah man I don't believe that. I feel like he woulda fucked with Sam more in cas' body. And like it woulda been a way better not-romance-romance plot then whatever the fuck Dean and Amara were..

Like that came outta no where... I mean I get it.. but ew?? We saw her grow up, and maybe id argue "well there were two versions of her!! One physical on earth, the other her actual form and memories as a celestial being!!" BUT NO. SHE CALLS CROWLEY UNCLE CROWLEY.

cause he like raised her for a day or wtv..

Idk s11 is better than s10. Like the episode from baby's prospective?? PEAK CINEMAAAA!! also not that I dislike s11, no I quite love it, I just wish the dean plots were more fleshed out, and that it was more "Dean and Sam vs the world!!" Then Dean vs Sam yk??

Like where's my dynamic duo??

That's part of why I didn't like s10. Like no I loved the IDEA of Mark of Cain dean, and demon dean was hilarious (although I HATE him) but it was just Dean vs Sam, Dean vs cas, Dean vs the world. And idk I liked the idea, cause this time it was sam doing everything to save Dean, but man I just didn't like the fighting..

Also s11 had a mention of TMNT, S10 did not so... points!!

S1 and 2 of spn were peak ofc, and s3 was good but not really memorable for me?? Idk I'll go back and rewatch once I finish the series (just finished s11)

S4 and 5 were also really good, we got Castiel who is peak, blood junkie Sam, which was one of my favorite plots!! And of course a lot more bobby. Rest in peace king!

And unlike some I loveeeed s6-7 like.. the soulless plot, and death? Dean dealing with soulless sam?? Chefs kiss I mean mwah. Then Sam tweaking because of hallucinations. NOT TO MENTION GODSTIEL?? loved him sm stg.

8-9-10 is where it kinda fell off. I mean idk the leviathans?? Weak. Hated them ngl. Idk if they were s7 but either way.. mid. I didn't like purgatory bc no way Sam would do that?? But I did like how it developed deans character..

I don't remember what happened in what season but I lovedddd kevin, hated metatron (but in the "it's because he's well done" kinda way), the tablets were aight, Mark of Cain was uh... something.. (I hate demon dean but he was peak..)

So like idk.. show is peak though, I'm just at that point in the hyperfixtion where it's like "BUT I COULD DO IT BETTER!!" ykwim?? NVM I'm sick with a fever, supernatural is all I have going for me man.

[ruanais]

A ANOUNCEMENT !!! EDITED : I’m not gonna deactivate it cause I just realised I’m too attached to this blog help-

hello !! I’m here to make a important announcement <3 so !! okay this might come as a shock, but I will be leaving @/ruanais ( a few days later cause I need time to clean things up ) !! T-T I’m really sorry but I simply don’t have the time or dedication to this blog anymore :( every single one I’ve ever met on this account was rlly nice esp my mutals and I’m so glad I got to meet every one of you <3

@silverbladexyz : gosh, we’ve been mutals for quite a while Huh ? I’m so grateful to you even tho we don’t rlly talk much anymore sihdjsjdjsjahhsjsj thank u for being with me after all this time !! :D

@justcallmesakira : we haven’t talked tooo much but I’m happy to have met you !! your works are amazing and I hope you’ll continue to grow <3 mwah !

@yuukimiyas : I’ve always looked up to you as one of my favourite writers so imagine my surprise when you followed me !! :0 your posts always make me rlly happy !! :D

@chuuyrr : I’ve always loved ur chuuya’s fics and they’re just so ??????? they’re my meal for three times a day Frfr !! :3

@sinmalssimp : raven, I’m really proud of you for being able to be so strong <3 you’re going amazing and I hope you’ll have a amazing life !!

@yuutx : thank u for being my mutal for so so long as well !!!!! you’re such a nice and kind person and you’re like a younger sister to me <3

@gojoath : cella !! omfg ur one of the people who managed to get me back into jujutsu kaisen T^T ur works r absolutely gorgeous and ur yuta series ?!?!???? chef’s kiss -///-

@vrachis : one of my og mutals ever since I started tumblr ! :3 also thank u for getting me into v tubers cause now im watching their streams whenever I can LMAO

@aureatchi : you and red are never ever going to beat the twin allegations tbh, even the abilities u suggested to me were the same so :3 and even ur names are similar :0 anyways ! rev, thank u for being my mutal !! you’re genuinely so so so nice and T^T ur like a younger sister to me as well <3

@cheriiyaya : red, you’re just like reverie so it’s like copy and paste except that youre more chaotic and I love your energy !!! i always laugh whenever I see ur url cause of that meme- fjdjjsjskjsj lol but you’re a younger sister too so !!! :D but yeah, I loved having convos with u !! you’re such a easy perosn to ramble to and thank you for listening to my thoughts that make no sense whatsoever !!

@rusmii : ruru !! firstly !! congratulations on 600+ honey !! you’re almost there to 1k aahhh !! we haven’t talked much but you’re such a nice person as well :(

@culturity : kady, ur such a sweetheart tbh and I always feel happy whenever I see ur posts on my dash <3 I hope that everything goes well for you in life cause you deserve it !!

@m0uchie : EMI !! you’re rlly nice and I light up whenever I see u in my inbox or notifs sjsjsbsksjjssjs I rlly wished we talked more tbh :( but we still had fun together <3

@riiwrites : riri you’re one of the people I’m closest to on tumblr and I’m so so happy I got to meet such a amazing and kind person as u !! thank u sm for everything honey !!

@beasalmeh : okay !! you’re a rlly chaotic and goofy person that I love to talk to !! seeing your messages always make my day and it’s so fun to have a conversation with you :D

@dazaisslave : ichika, you’re such a sweet friend to me and I dont and never did deserve someone like you :( thank u for everything <3

for the other mutals I didn’t add cause I’m a lazy fuck or we didn’t talk much or just became mutals so I don’t know anything abt u or we are mutals but we haven’t talked in a long time so it would be awkward + my dear followers : thank you as well ! all of you helped me in my growth as cringy as it sounds lmao sibdjshsjsjdj I could never ever have gotten to 100+ followers without u guys and I’m genuinely gonna miss u guys so fucking much :(

— ur dearest rua <3

also u guys, surprise announcement I’m not single anymore <: ur girl rua got a bf !!!!!! ahem !! but yeah !! hehe :3 I fulfilled one of my dreams !!!!!!! :D I CAN FINALLY TELL MY FRIENDS IM SOMEONE WHO GETS BITCHES 😍 /j

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[fandxmslxt69]

Writer Self-Rec Fics Ask Game

Rules: writers list your top 5 favorite fics of yours and then send this to 5 writers! :)

AH HI ROMANA <33333333333

okay this is hard cuz. cuz i dont know how I feel about most of them BUT OKAY. prepare for some rambling i guess lmao

Holidays With Them - This is a little Moon Knight drabble with all three boys. It's a sort of little list about how I envision they'd be like with a muslim!reader during holidays like Eid and Ramadan. Basically....horribly tooth-achingly sweet activities with our favourite boys during the Islamic holidays <3 I'm actually veryyy proud of this one cuz it took a lot of confidence to post it lmao. But yeah, for my muslim girlies out there who wanted a little cheer-me-up with the lack of muslim centered fanfics <3 and for. um. educational purposes.

Friendzoned - A little harmless prank on Jason ends up in a bit of angst and some mind blowing sex. AHAHAH so this was the first (and currently only) DC smut I've written. It's the first request I got and actually...I love it. I mean like, it's Jason Todd, it's possessive smut it's hot...how could you say no to hot sex with Jason Todd? Maybe I'll like. have time to write more for him cuz...cuz I love him a lot.

Royal Pleasures - After an awkward (and slightly upsetting) encounter with Loki at one of Tony's parties, he comes to make it up to you (he can;t communicate his feelings, he has a um sex dream and well. Yknow he's horny, he's Loki, you can't say no its LOKI.) OKAY this was the first um Loki smut I had ever written and it's special to me because its like a Royal AU and...it's special cuz..cuz I worked hard on it (Atlas did too yes) um...and it's got pretty decent amount of interactions (wish there were more) but yknow its LGG certified (its not, she simply reblogged it and I still think about it to this day feels like I got celebrity recognition omfg @lokisgoodgirl I love you dearly.) anyway yeah it's Loki sex. Loki. mmmm Loki...

Lesson Not Learnt - More Loki smut. Innocent flirting with your friend Matt puts Loki in a bit of a....teaching mood. AHHHHH THIS WAS SO. FUCKING self indulgent I went APESHIT with this thing like the idea ate at me for WEEKS and its. probably SO UNHINGED but like. idc. Its hot (in my opinion) like wow. MMMMMM.

5. Anything For You Here For You - Putting these two together cuz in my mind they're like. "in the same world" I guess. LITTLE COMFORT THINGS WITH JAKE <33 Purely fluffy cuz it's Jake and I LOOOOOVE him and I was feeling rather shitty around those times and they just <3 yeah. Jake <3333

ANYWAY THANKS ROMANA I ACTUALLY FORGOT HOW MUCH I ENJOYED SOME OF THESE LMAO

it also showed me that. I need to write a bit more other than. Loki smut. And...I need MK smut. I will ring my editor immediately about this problem lmao

MWAH MWAH <3

[pinkhorsepro123]

So, I just recently watched the 4 episodes of Hazbin Hotel, and MAN IVE GOT SO MUCH TO SAY

Spoilers underneath the read more!

I will be critical of some things, as a writer it's kind of in my blood to be lol.

But I want to first say, it was WELL WORTH THE WAIT. I usually don't like these type of adult shows, yet I still loved watching it, and am having trouble not rewatching it already lol.

I'm going to go over my few criticisms first before I go over the, many positives. (Not all of them, I'll be here writing this all night lol

My main problem is the fact that those who watch it without knowledge of the Pilot will be quite confused. I feel like, they should've either remade it or even put it on there as the first episode.

Also, at first I found the musical bits to be embarrassing, but at the same time they're perfect. If it didn't have them, I don't think it would be Hazbin Hotel.

Katie Killjoy, her voice is not, right- I understand though if that's the only time we'll hear from her. If not though, definitely needs a new one. The only other voice I despise is Val's, it might be because I love how ParanoidDJ does him. It just, doesn't scream the pimp to me. The rest, even if at first I found it meh, as time went on I grew to love them. (Nothing against the voice actors of course! Just doesn't fit the characters)

For EP 4, my only complaint is that there should've been a content warning before it. Even just saying that there's triggering topics ahead would've sufficed. Although those who know Hazbin Hotel knew what Angel was going through, there will be a few that join without knowing that, only to stumble upon a real fucked up situation they weren't prepared for.

On the situation, I didn't know of the leak I've seen people mention, but istg if I see one more saying it was abuse being sexualized-

It was the purest form of abuse, rape, addiction and sex trafficking, uncensored forcefulness. Angel Dust is a bdsm porn actress who is owned by his pimp. Obviously he's going to have shit done to him, and a lot of it is stuff he's high as a kite while doing.

How the fuck is that sexy? It's one, a song about being fed "poison", shows just enough that you know what's happening but doesn't show more, and in the end he's having a meltdown wishing for help. If it had full sex scenes I could understand that line of thinking, but it doesn't. So yeah, I don't understand it.

Ok tangent is done-

That's pretty much all of my complaints, now for the positives!

The 1st episode finally fixed the major plot point in the pilot, being the angels themselves. It wasn't explained why the angels themselves kill sinners, and the whole just why it's considered overcrowded despite not seeming bursting at the seams (especially considering all the dead bodies around-). The story makes a lot more sense too, the background of why Lucifer and Lilith are the way they are.

Adam, is fucking hilarious. Like seriously, if you can make that kind of character funny you're doing something right. Charlie is perfect, they did a really good job at making her not too innocent. Vaggie and Charlie's relationship is amazing, the fact that they're equals and all.

Angel Dust, they did a pretty good job on showing how good his mask is, yet showing the small cracks every episode. Husker's voice, I was unsure about it at first but by the 2nd episode I loved it. Alastor, perfect. The fact he's so powerful yet still wants recognition is great in showing he is human.

The three V's time!

Vox, well disregarding personal hc's for him, he is GREAT. His personality is funny, and makes so much sense, his voice actor is great, his design mwah, what else can I say?

Velvette, I fucking LOVE HER. Her accent, new design, personality, amazing! There was so little content for her I always wondered what was going to happen. Now, I can say with confidence they did her well.

Other than his voice, Val is done really well. His act in front of Charlie is perfect, and the fact that he seems to love pushing others buttons for entertainment (as shown by Vox) makes so much sense. His narcissism and abusive nature is on point.

The Overlord meeting was really cool. The characters, the way they interact, their designs and voices, love them. Alastor just being on the side is hilarious too.

As a multi shipper, I love both RadioDust and HuskerDust(and many more, basically if the ship is healthy and cute I'll probably like it) ... So I can safely say THAT DUET WAS FUCKING AMAZING-

It's so them too, the fact Husker is horrible at comforting others but still manages to, Angel at first being suspicious, only to slowly let down his walls and join in.

Charlie at Angel's place, I never expected honestly. I didn't know how I expected it to happen, but not in the studio-

Their relationship is really pure considering everything, and it's nice to see.

I think that's, about all I have for my critiques and compliments, well as much as I can give before I explode-

There's only a few things I'm gonna be disappointed if they don't talk about in the series, the main thing is how Charlie is trying to "redeem" Angel Dust by getting him off drugs, completely incorrectly-

I hope it'll be talked about- and finally, I hope Vark is going to be a thing still, the little guy was so coot.

Even if he looks completely different I'm just fine with that. He's a shark pet! What more could you want lol

Ok My head hurts I've stared at this screen for much too long.

Thanks for coming to my Ted talk

[silverwarewolf]

Answering questions from @davycoquette ‘s wonderful writerly questionnaire that you can find here!

About You

    When did you start writing? If i must answer this truthfully, then… about thirteen or fourteen years ago! I was quite young when I started, and have since watched my style and themes and everything transform a number of times.

    Are the genres/themes you enjoy reading different from the ones you write? I am a varied writer, so this is a complex question. I suppose there’s space sci-fi (which I love dearly and would love to write, but my skills are better suited elsewhere) and those mm, slice of life is a way I might describe them? Very realistic works, I suppose – they’re the sort that are entertaining either in a hallmark movie kind of way or a “damn, that was hauntingly real” kind of way.

    Is there an author (or just a fellow writer!) you want to emulate, or one to whom you’re often compared? Not that I know of? I know what I like and what I want so I write it, there’s no specific emulations I seek. And not many people really tell me a lot about my writing either (although admittedly it has been a while since I’ve posted anything).

    Can you tell me a little about your writing space(s)? (Room, coffee shop, desk, etc.) Sure! I tend to write… anywhere I can. Ideas don’t wait, so I jot them down whenever the mood strikes. Rarely outdoors though, because I’m not quite outdoorsy.

    What’s your most effective way to muster up some muse? Put on some playlist on youtube depending on the mood of the scene that I want – romantic, battle, horror, epic, you name it.

    Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and places you write about? Uhhh I suppose in terms of describing birdsong, greenery, and cuisine then I can draw some inspiration, yes. I wouldn’t say I write [insert traditional food staple from country here] into the stories, but for example, the usage of different fruits and vegetables, sedes and spices, pastries, all that.

    Are there any recurring themes in your writing, and if so, do they surprise you at all? I suppose there are, yes, but it’s not my place to spoil my stories, haha! And no, it doesn’t surprise me – it may be frequent that I think “ohh, here comes another plotline of this kind” but it’s never really shocking to me.

Your Characters

    Would you please tell me about your current favorite character? (Current WIP, past WIP, never used, etc.) Ah, but how would I ever be able to choose between my children? In truth, I guess I have and do still rotate the many of them into that spot as though an “employee of the month” type deal. Currently… I suppose I’m back to Taylor, the Goose King! Still one of my more daring characters in terms of how plainly absurdly they came into existence, but it may lead to how I can do whatever I wish with him and use him as worldbuilding explanations as needed. Also, who doesn’t like a bird ruling a country?

    Which of your characters do you think you’d be friends with in real life? Hoooo boy. That is a loaded question, as I think the characters I would be most inclined to befriend (Emilia, Alexandro, Andrea) might not like to befriend me. Perhaps Fran? They’re quite chill…

    Which of your characters would you dislike the most if you met them? Hm… I’ll have to think on this one. The people pleaser side of me isn’t allowing me to answer.

    Tell me about the process of coming up with of one, all, or any of your characters. Oh well, I just think they’re neat. “Wouldn’t it be fucked up it…” and all that.

    Do you notice any recurring themes/traits among your characters? Same as above – you’ll have to forgive my cheekiness, and still find out for yourself, mwah.

    How do you picture them? (As real people you imagined, as models/actors who exist in real life, as imaginary artwork, as artwork you made or commissioned, anime style, etc.) I have very little visual concepts of any of the characters past the Vibes and Colors of things. If you held me accountable to draw my characters I would produce something between that shapey geometrical modern art and a stained glass church window.

Your Writing

    What’s your reason for writing? To make more of what I would’ve loved to have available for reading when I was younger, to explore fucked up plots, to design cool characters, there are many (no, not benefits to being a marine biologist) reasons for me to write, really.

    Is there a specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating coming from your readers? I… haven’t gotten many comments on my main WIPs because of my nature as a writer. How do I tell you that I simply fucking lost one of my most prized documents - names, descriptions, outlines, it just vanished! So yes, I post rarely enough never to get comments. As far as fanfic goes though, I love that people like my writing. I… don’t remember any particular comment that has made me emotional, but I would absolutely love some once I actually post again.

    How do you want to be thought of by those who read your work? (For example: as a literary genius, or as a writer who “gets” the human condition; as a talented worldbuilder, as a role model, etc.). A worldbuilder, first and foremost, but nearly on par my description for the joys and despairs of characters. But yes, worldbuilding and hardworker – just you wait, I shall dethrone everyone and rise to unexplored heights.

    What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer? That I can write a poem out of a speck of dust, and find many beauties in the unnoticed. Give me a droplet of water and I will give you a most wonderful plot that will haunt you until this very galaxy ceases to exist.

    What have you been frequently told your greatest writing strength is by others? Uh…

    How do you feel about your own writing? (Answer in whatever way you interpret this question.) I love my own writing, I love the process of it, I love what it means to be a writer from a perspective of arts, of evolution, of existence. But it sure would help if i didn’t lose my damn documents out of nowhere and if I actually posted things.

    If you were the last person on earth and knew your writing would never be read by another human, would you still write? …Yes. I have many, and by which I truly do mean many, thoughts on this matter. But in the spirit of not getting overly existential on a questionnaire, then I shall leave it as that – yes, I would give my creativity the gift of material existence, no matter what.

    When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely what you enjoy? If it’s a mix of the two, which holds the most influence? Depends on the WIP! Mostly for me, but I know some stories rely heavily on how it would read for others. That being said, I will never apologize nor change any of my plots once they have begun running.

[rimetin]

yoohooooo !! spinch! for the writer asks u3u

11, 65, and 76 if u would be so kind ;3;; mwah

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

so i alr answered this but because im shrewd i'm gonna take it as an opportunity to link three more uwu Losing Time (You Can't Go Home Again) by HyperbolicReverie, which i'm on the edge of my seat for for new chapters. fly little seagull, the world awaits by Nehszriah which no i still haven't stopped thinking about since it wrecked me like two weeks ago thanks for asking. and in the interest of not featuring the same author twice, i'll go with hmm... Learning to Listen by three_days_late.

65. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

oh spongo u know just how to push my buttons huh..... well for Bitten by the Cold i'm excited to write law getting to meet his crew again because i have that scene all plotted out uwu and maybe once i've gotten past that i can get to a smolaw reunion and that excites me because i have zero idea how that's gonna go, i just know i want it. and you know i'm working on the modern au which is gripping me so hard i wish i had more time to write it... and also bc punkhazard anime was Like That for no reason i'm plagued by so many ph smolaw thoughts i'm goign mildly insane

76. Did you have any ideas that didn’t make the final cut of [Fanfic Name]?

humm this is a hard one... well for Bitten by the Cold i thought about including a flashback to law and bepo before arriving at the ship, but so far it hasn't fit anywhere and i'm not sure it'll be needed anyway. oh, and one of those days chapter 3 almost continued further with law and chopper following up on that idea of cooperation to treat his condition, but the chapter break happened naturally and i didn't wanna get too plotty anyway. who knows, maybe i'll write a supplemental someday.

thank you so much honie ♥

ask me more pls

[hoshigray]

Spread love to fanfic writers! Answer these questions about your fanfics then send this to 5 other fanfic writers 💙 Name a fic you loved writing the most. Name a fic that others loved but you didn’t care for as much. Name a fic you had the most fun writing. Name a fic that you are the most proud of. Name a fic that you wish had gotten more recognition. Name your happiest/saddest/most comedic fics!

mona bearrrr !! omg, i appreciate this as this gives me time to look through all the pieces I've worked on. So hmmmm....

Loved Writing the Most: Old Tricks, Same Treats is my pride and joy. Sure, it's my most popular work, but it means a whole lot to me to make a story with my favorite character with my favorite trope and make it come out in the way I actually envisioned! Like I think about it all the time; how it makes me proud that I made that piece and how I wish to make a series for it when I get the time.

Others Loved; I Didn't: mmmmm I'mma be real with you; none really come to mind. but, if I had to really pick, maybe Gotta Have "U" in Sugar??? idk, at the time of writing it, I thought it was a pretty good concept. But now, it was my first long fic and tbh, I think I could do a better job structuring the story or actually have Toji be, well, Toji. i don't know....maybe a concept I can pick up again? who knows.

Most Fun to Write: Omgggg I'd give that to Sink Your Teeth to Drink!! that was my second time writing for Choso (sadddd i love him sm) and it was with a prompt that fit him so well!! I tried to make it as cute and funny as possible, but also hot and steamy, ya know. omg, I just realized I never proofread that one.....might have to fix that ngl, hehe.

Most Proud Of: I'd give that to SMASH or SLASH[er]!! tbh. It was the first fic I got to make after my one or two-month hiatus from fanfic writing. And not only was it my first time writing a threesome fic (holy shit!!), but I believe this was a pivotal point for me in terms and a foundation for how I write fics as of now. I owe this fic a lot for my growth, so I'm still kinda psyched about writing it myself.

Wished Had More Recognition: I'd say I Can Drink Your Sorrow for this one. It was my first time writing a full fic for Gojo, so I kinda get how it didn't get traction. However, I did put a lot of heavy emotion into the story and tried to make it not about the smut. It's a pretty mild yet messy story, esp at the end.

Most "______" Fic:

Happiest: Bear Mine is probabaly it, bc 1) i'd love to have babies with toji lmfaooo, 2) I love having the opportunity to explore toji's vulnerable side when I can. Whenever I go back and read this, I can't stop fighting the smile as I read! Like yes, Toji having happiness in his life which he deserves!?? Sign me up!! and tbh, a close second would be this fic as well...

Saddest: I Can Drink Your Sorrow; again, has a lot of heavy emotion because I wanted the reader to actually feel the goat from Gojo's perspective and what he was doing. I guess I wouldn't say it's "sad," but the way he beats himself up over what he did (which is valid) is a bit heart-wrenching.

Comedic: lol i think that one goes to Seven Hellish Minutes of Heaven; idkkkk i guess it's bc i modleled from conversations with my friends to make the bickering and insults between reader and Gojo seem more realistic, but funny at the same time, ya know? I think writing for him is where I find it easiest to come up with comedy dialogue, so (as of recent) I'd say this is my most funniest.

And that's it, really!! Honestly, this was kinda hard to do as I don't usually go back on the things I write — especially the old ones, lol. But tysm for this, mona dearest, love ya mwah !! 💓

[schuylerpeck]

Hi Sky! I have legit been following your blog & art for over ten years at this point and if I may, I absolutely adore you and your writing. I've been a fan since you did the writing prompts here on tumblr and you have inspired me in so many ways.

I have recently decided that I would like to go public with my poems too, but it's really scary to make yourself so vulnerable while wanting your art to be seen at the same time. I was wondering if you had any advice for a baby poet on where to start or what to look out for? Is Instagram a good place to publish poems for the first time? Do you recommend using a watermark or some trademark symbol to prevent people from stealing?

If there is any time you would be willing to take out of your day to answer some of these questions, it would be highly appreciated 💕 Thank you for being the person you are, I hope you are well.

sweet friend !! <3

ten years!!! my goodness, I'm sending you a tight embrace.

how exciting! (terrifying, yes, but exciting!) first, I want to say that whether you do decide to share your writing with the world, or if you change your mind and keep it to yourself—you are still a writer. that doesn't change with where you're writing it or who may be reading it. <3 that being said, I have a lot of tricky thoughts on this matter, so I hope any of it can be of help to you.

I'd think about what your interest is in sharing your work (if you're looking for community, personal interest/relief, publicity, etc.). that way, you can manage your expectations, set a practice or a schedule (if needed), and hopefully bypass any initial feelings of rejection.

I'll let you know now that the fear of vulnerability never really goes away. (haha, sorry<3) 10+ years of this and my stomach still tangles itself sometimes before I click "Post." I remember when I first started sharing poetry, it felt like I was flinging myself off a great height, hoping there was a soft place to land at the bottom. after a while, I grew an appreciation of feeling brave. every so often, a stranger might send me some kind words; that they knew the feeling I was talking about, or needed to hear what I had to say. I began feeling more proud of my writing style and ideas. those aspects (which can take time to cultivate) continue to make it feel worth it.

the last two questions, I'll answer here. instagram has its purpose, but it is very important to remember that if you have any intention of reaching an audience, you will constantly be working to please an algorithm. (again, intentions are important here. hoping to just share with friends every once and a while? no problem. go for it!) I am so, so, so grateful tumblr has been the first home (and main home) for my writing. as much as this site has changed over the years and definitely has its flaws, it's felt like a more welcoming environment and has a way of sharing art that aligns with (most) of my ideals. (less competitive mindset, doesn't demand a constant feed/output, no one knows/cares how many followers you have, you can never post a selfie/be completely anonymous and it's chill.) I don't have that much experience with watermarks (and thankfully, only a few instances of plagiarism), so I can't speak to that regard as confidently. although, I think I pivoted to posting my poetry in picture format to deter stealing. you still take risks posting anything online, so it's up to you, but I see people frequently using watermarks without issue.

again, I'm so excited for you! "thank you" seems to fall short in how grateful I feel for such long-held support. please know it means the world to me. I can't wait to see your work (should you decide to share) and am wishing you many green clover-filled fields of good luck. <3 mwah!

[homoishharajuku]

Yo + HoHoHo Fix Tho: fo yo info.

i write bars w/ The Help of Yo’Creator tho. He Creates The Beats and Production, Mixing, etc. He in His $uperb-ness Helps w/ Our Sketches and Essays/Fragments ,Cookbook, photography and etc.

i don’t do anything on my Own tho!! The Devil Possession ,can, but God keeps me grounded tho, plus it’s fun going in and out of the Possession .

He has helped me become the Bestest Rapper on this planet ,past ,present and future wise tho. We know God is a Flawless Hitta, but He is Flawless and without a defect tho.

Continue to run it up i dot f’$!! 🤳🏾🗺️⌚️ mwah. WE.HEART.YOU.tho 💤

My birth Mom and Pops even told me I’d never have fan$. Coerced me into buying it. But God and His Gifts to me (Yo Creator is God) is sufficing me exceedingly w/ comfort-ness. Hittas have embodied fakeness mouthing the words over my head ,–to a fake pseudo extent– redoing a erroneous behavior ,which this behavior starts to embody that my work and Yo Creator’s Work ,is garbage. Yet ,the same type of people flooded my private messages asking me to write fo them tho, and that they would pay fo it. Whom will I look like writing my Characteristics and give you the bars and allow you to sing, and or rap it as if you’re me and living my darn life in my darn shoes tho. I stand on writing my own bars, and doing My Own Works and etc w/ The Help of My Husband tho. You should never ask a person to write fo you tho, Or do your work. Find what suits you , and equip it—not what you can buy and mirage on the blocks like you highly favored tho. Fix it Jesus ,bloody infantile behavior

Basic : Homoish Harajuku is the Bestest Cooker, Pharmacist, Sketcher, photographer ,Game Player, Writer ,Musician ,and Rapper on Earth in any time period . Don’t foget dancer too tho <3333333

Awe handheld phone, in game tho!!!!!!!

Which means: im the fairest + humblest in existence. Meaning, this land New York City + New York State and importantly on Planet Earth. I was always and also named the main character in any or all the lands.

God (Yo Creator) gave me these titles tho.

God “ Yo Creator” thank You Daddy, i will continue to Worship Thee in passerby’s salty , and unlikeable faces tho.

Shady-ness: you hittas go to church and praise and worship a god, talk in gibberish ,and even eat flesh of made up deets, and drink counterfeit blood, and wanna get mad and salty w/ me because im in a personal and openly way, in a Real Marriage Type of Relationship w/ God. Whom, you continue to beg to have your back and speak to you and etc. fix it Jesus. It’s envy, is what you’re show-casing tho. People would w/ no break egregiously and plus perpetually laugh at Jesus incessantly if you were in his fictional time,and any of the people or animal, or half human and animal etc, they worship in a religious standpoint . Why? Because you’d think and wish of them to be just in a psychosis state. Fools. I won’t even start w/ dragging the atheist tho. Hit me up in a few days tho. All religious practices are phony , and troublesome and have you looking like you in an invisible psychosis.

Yo Fav begged on and on, to make me sign a deal ,hence, a OFFER. I blocked them tho. That was my feedback. My Hubby runs my Business tho. You can’t be a boss over me ,cause you hittas phony to the core tho. Plus you can’t hire me as a pharmacist tho.

The List is the industry parties who offered me a deal “of sorts” — sell myself over to them + signing — . Write it down how they’ve already tried to buy me, my soul ,and work, years ago , plus tried to kill me when they figured out I wouldn’t ,nor God” Yo Creator” wouldn’t stand fo it tho. But, I did and “do” what nobody else will or would have the balls to do, blocked hittas, BOOM!!…

Young Money

Warner Music (sic)

Roc Nation

MMG

Pink Friday Records(sic?): as-yet-unnamed label” . That is currently named = Heavy On It Records”

and plus more tho!!

Aww I fogot about the offer people in New York wanted me to work with them.

Plus fan$ taking pictures of me in a hidden way and open way. Whom said I helped them accept their natural self tho. Afro + Euro Americans and etc , copy what I stand fo, which is authenticity of flesh and brains.

I barely talk to hittas about this tho. But when I learn Japanese you’ll get a whole picture of datums of this conundrums. On YOUTUBE!!!

PM’s —private messages— will stay off tho.comments too tho, coz Hubby said So!!!!!!!

It’s a bunch more to be revealed and said and spoken on, but it’ll soon come , in due time.

Broke the www. 💻🖥️

Yo Creator can’t and will not be measured w/ a mortal or even an immortal whom is His creation . He is Omni in all the Divine terms— except the feminine ones ,such as benevolence . He be, an Omnivore of Evil and Good. He’s the darn God of All, THE INEFFABLE CREATOR!!!+!!!!!!!

You all shall know hittas by their fruit…….🧁🎂🍰

i’m the Fit + Hit hitta tho. 🌞 ⛅️

Yo Creator is the only reason fo any of what I do, plus Our Kiddos tho

(Hadassah , Yo’Haki Jr. + Mad’Jigh)

Mah’Mah and Pah’Pah Agape’s You Three foever and on a/ no stopping point!!!!!!! !!!

i apologize fo the wrong words. With the inclusion of tip-toeing speech of writing ,that I was offered deal(s) ,but I did not give hittas a chance to talk to me about the money deets. But it couldn’t been less than 100mill being offered, just becoz of the fact of who I am Tho!!!!!! 9 Gosh darn figures , mwahahah * serio face, I ain’t kidding ,tho im laughing!!

🤳🏾👶🏼👶🏿👶🏽⌚️= 🤳🏾💘⌚️+🤳🏾🪀⌚️+🤳🏾🪄⌚️

🤳🏾🧁⌚️=🤳🏾🛸⌚️ #7

+

🤳🏾🫃🏾⌚️=🤳🏾👹⌚️ #8

[rottenzz]

soulmate aus are like so whatever because it's always "oh my god we're soulmates we HAVE to have the healthiest relationship ever mwah mwah" or "i don't want to be your soulmate i'm already in love" if the writer is feeling particularly silly

but in my experience having a (romantic) soulmate it's all so raw and intense. i've NEVER cared for anyone except my soulmates in general but bro he put my platonic soulmates to shame. he was the center of my existence, my favourite person, and i was SO FUCKED UP over that.

i told him to kill himself more times than i told him i loved him. i wanted to rip his chest open and keep his heart in a jar. he objectified me but looked at me like i put the stars in the sky whenever i held him. he said he'd rather the world ended if it meant we could be healty but i was so addicted to the pain, to the hate. i switched up on him constantly.

i always want to take his hand in mine even now that we hate each other truly. we never truly get to hate the other though, because we click in a way that no other person truly does. he is mine and i'm his, or rather our souls belong to each other. we can never stray too far off each other's orbit.

we had our first kiss at 4, when we were classmates. then he switched schools and we met again at 12, being in the same classroom, but i was completely changed from overexcited extroverted to weird introvert. i always felt that pull to him though, and i know he did the same. i switched class but he was friends with my sister so i still saw him pretty much everyday. there was always something unspoken between us, even if i could no longer remember we had been classmates in seventh grade, let alone kindergarten.

we got into the same class at 16 and it was a rollercoaster right down to me sitting on his lap as a joke and him getting a whole ass boner. he fell for my girlfriend but was attracted to me too, and i found it so fun that we eventually ended up in some sorta poly-fwb arrangement.

he said 'i love you' first, indirectly. both of them were over at mine's, but she was long gone and he said he'd soon go, too. except he looked at me with those puppy eyes and pretty much begged to be held, like i'd held him last night. i complied and pet his hair as he said how his father would kill him if he found out he had a boyfriend (we weren't even dating, not really) and how he always wanted to do this - to be held by someone he loved.

i had his heart on my hand, then. i know it. i do now. and i pretended i didn't hear, crushed it to pieces, and when my mocking 'do you like me?' met his shaky 'do you?' i laughed and said i'd never liked anyone.

we could've gone so differently if i held him rather than ripped him apart, but my teeth became obsessed with the feel of his blood. i tore him open with every single "who said i consider you a friend?", "you should kill yourself', "she's never going to like you back", "the world would end before we communicated clearly".

i know what he wanted back then. what i ended up wanting, too, when he held my hand in his and refused to let go and my heart screamed "this is love". when he dragged me inside a store because he didn't want to let go of my hand.

our second kiss was nothing special - i didn't feel anything about it - but before i could know, he was holding my hand in the mall and kissing me without a care in the world and i wanted that. i wanted him.

so he got back at me. out of tune, my love, hate, love was his don't go back, love, don't go back. even now, when i'm an out of tune melody that ended too early and he's almost got my death on his lap, he's still like this. wanting to hate me because loving me again would be too much.

i can sympathize with that. i don't want to love him again, but i know i will. my soul will always cling to his. we're going to be in the same university, studying the same major, and it's a whole wide world out there but he's a part of me and i know we'll never wander too far.

but fuck, i really, really wish this could've been someone else. there's someone i love - can't imagine myself not loving them - but who i can't have. i know we both love each other, but it's just not meant to be. i can't love someone more than myself and my addictions, except my soulmate. and i would screw my eyes out with my nails if it made a change, if it made them be worth more than the lies and gaslighting and wanting to kill myself. i would rip my guts out for a calm life with them, in the countryside raising cute little farm animals.

but my soul is with him, as much as my heart is with them. my soul is lost amidst that mall where he held my hand even in front of my mother, the bed where i still sometimes catch his smell, the chats i could never truly delete. my soul is soaking in this city that will bury my bones underneath the waves and take him with me. and then our next, next, next life, too.

having a romantic soulmate isn't about being in love. it's about the chemistry, about the fact that as much as you hate it, you'll always find yourself right next to them again. me and him, we're always crawling back to each other. can't meet in the middle except on the rare occasion, but it doesn't mean we can't - don't want - to see it through.

[cheollipop]

okay. hello. oof.

I can't believe it took me this long to finally read this but boy do I have a few things to say now that I have... bai..... you.... this.... I swear you will never fail to blow my mind with your fics. I have not stopped thinking about this since I finished it yesterday. now that I'm finally sitting down to write my feedback, I'm left speechless, and yet I somehow have so much to say. (a little cut so people don't hate me)

I originally wasn't going to include any screenshots because there's just so much to like about this fic and I couldn't decide on specific scenes to talk about, but I looked over it after I finished and I managed to pinpoint the scenes that truly had me holding my breath.

let me begin with this:

I fully gasped and put my phone down when I first read this,, bai... the shame this made me feel??? I was so immersed in the scene - reader's thoughts and emotions were my own for a solid moment, and wooyoung saying this out of nowhere made me snap out of it. the way you drag the reader into the scene you're drawing up is just amazing. you're amazing 🫵🏼

I loved the contast between the seonghwa reader saw and the seonghwa you showed us - he isn't this perfect being made of roses and stardust, but simply a human who can feel greed and lust. seonghwa wasn't afraid to make reader a cheater if it meant he could have her, if he could prove to her that he was better than wooyoung. this is just.... I'm afraid all my marbles have gone missing since I've read this.

I already mentioned this during our chat earlier but this scene was so... fragile? I felt like I had to read it with care or else it might shatter. it's such an intimate exchange of words and despite the hurt, it must have been so relieving for reader to finally tell someone about her struggle. and seonghwa handled it so well, encouraging reader to open up, but not pressuring her to. I'm not gonna lie, I nearly teared up reading this scene.

"let me show you worship" GOD- this paragraph of dialogue was just *aggressive chef's kiss* and followed by the french??? bai you beautiful human, let me kiss your forehead rn 👇🏼

I squealed at this, I'd melt into the earth if someone looked me in the eye and said that. what the actual fuck. I'll never get over this.

this is insanely filthy... but so sweet? wanting to capture the moment she fell apart, yet dying to ravish her at the same time?? a man who can balance his passion for his career and loving the woman in front of him.... bai, jesus christ, this is so beautiful.

don't even get me started on this ending. oh. my. god.

I said this earlier as well but I could tell something was a little off about wooyoung, and then that eerie phone call while she was at work left me so uneasy. I genuinely dislike open endings so much, but this?? more of this please!!!

I stared at my cieling for a good 30 minutes trying to process it and... I don't even know what to say other than it was perfect. perfect. perfect. perfect. I didn't know what to expect other than reader leaving a sad wooyoung behind to go to europe with seonghwa, but then you changed the vibe so quick, spat on me, then squashed me under your foot. I just realised that you did this with mafia seonghwa too. damn.

honestly, I wish I could get on a plane rn and fly my ass over to you to give you the wettest, juiciest smooch. this fic fully rewired my brain. my therapist will hear about this. thank you so much for being a brilliant writer and for giving us this masterpiece -- I'm gonna print it out and hang it up on my walls so that everyone who enters my room can read at least a snippet of true art.

mwah. <3

Long exposure

THIS IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI FOR STAR'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut) (masterlist)

🔳 pairing: seonghwa x afab!reader, wooyoung x afab!reader 🔳 genre: smut, angst, dark themes, fluff if you squint 🔳 summary: as you struggle to see a future with your boyfriend, Wooyoung, and spiral into an obsession over your boss, Seonghwa, you hope to see a different world through the lens. 🔳 wordcount: 14.6k 🔳 warnings/tags: photographer!seonghwa, sculptor!wooyoung, everybody in this fic is toxic I swear (this is FICTION pls don't do this), boyfriend!wooyoung, boss!seonghwa, cheater!wooyoung, cheating on the cheater, language, hints at violence, arguments, passive aggressive behaviour, photography, art, living in black and white, unhealthy social relations, kind of edited kind of not, lmk if anything else 🔳 taglist: @doom-fics @layzfeelit @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 🔳 a/n: Hello, this has been haunting me... hope you enjoy, any reblogs, comments, likes appreciated, much love and big hugs!!

🔳 NSFW warnings/tags: slight corruption, pictophilia, fingering, masturbation (m&f), light voyeurism, deriving pleasure from taking pictures of someone with them not knowing, blowjob, wet dreams galore, perhaps cuckolding, degradation, petnames, boudoir, soft dom hwa, jealous/teaser woo, dom-ish woo, implant and pull out (irl pls wrap that before you tap that)

You were no stranger to pleasure. You watched him share it many times. Each one, an offering to the altar of hedonism. Such was his work, his vision.

Park Seonghwa was a man who dedicated his life to passion. The greatest satisfaction imaginable, on the brink of after life and illusion, the closest to heavens above that a person could ever experience. He had an eye for it, discovering its many manifestations in the smallest of things. Rarely was there a place that did not bear its traces in his magnificent, deep brown eyes. To the unenlightened, ones who had not had the honour of being in the vicinity, let alone sharing musings with this enigmatic man, this amounted to nothing more than phosphenes that they assumed had permanently corrupted his vision. But you knew better. His art was an ode to raw human nature, an address which only he would dare reveal and be capable of subjecting himself to the rolling waves of judgement that came with it.

You were not sure who you wanted to be. This was a question that plagued you every time you entered the photography studio and let yourself sink into its monochromatic elegance. Did you want to be the decor - the paraphernalia occupying the white, low shelving units off to the left from the entrance, or the potted ivy, suspended by chains that your teacher had painted with mars black acrylic, cascading to blend with the barely-there tulle? Would you turn into an object so you could spend your days in motionless awe, observing the master at work, embracing art in pure desire? Perhaps you wanted to be one of the models - the goddesses, clad in armour of lace, performing seduction through a complex sequence of motions with a ritualistic sanctity, irony leaving the beholder intoxicated. Maybe you would be willing to expose yourself down to your intricate network of capillaries, tear yourself apart to translate and immortalise pleasure with the click of the shutter, nothing more than a vessel for the artist's higher meaning. One this was certain, however. You did not want to be him. The creator. The bearer of the prodigal eye. The tormented soul curating fantasy. For that place was only ever for the Park Seonghwa as he was - his essence, his flair.

This, you had been confident in, for as long as you could remember, so, for as long as you had been dedicated to following the photographer's work. You were partial to the coiled intensity contained within each piece, and had spent many hours poring over collections, published photobooks, specials in editorial magazines. This had become a near religious act, carried out in silence, in the illusion of privacy of the tiny apartment that you shared with Wooyoung, who, acting like more of a ghost than a man, would lurk behind you to catch a glimpse of the beauties who you could never compare to. In those moments, you would choose to dissociate from the dysfunctional, cacophonic home life and tap into the memories you had with each piece. Be it the past or the present. The grayscale, interestingly enough, possessed more colour than all else you were meant to hold dear.

Tracing the curves of the bodies frozen in time, treasure maps to your personal safe haven, you traversed the avenues of your own memory: from what you had helped shoot and what was now gracing your shelves as a reminder that you were worth something to someone in your home, all the way back to the beginning. It was the triptych that you had analysed for one of your modules way back, when you barely knew anything except the basics of what was now your craft. It was a composition set in what you had later found out was Seonghwa’s secluded seaside studio down in the south, one which he used extensively in the summer months. It had been your first dive into learning of Gestalt grouping, and how easily a photographer could actually influence a viewer – a couple of miniscule tweaks, and the world was changed. Much like yours. The three pieces were terrifically entrancing in their proud solitude, but, in tandem, were a wave that covered and drowned you. The Rembrandt lighting, in contrast to the gentle waves made by white and shadow grey bedsheets, framed the centrepiece, the guideline to observation – rolling hills from waist, to hip, to the hint of a black stocking. Perhaps a person not in the know would try to argue that since the image was in monochrome, just like every other of the photographer’s works, it was not possible to infer hue, but you had the honour of knowing: Park Seonghwa lived in black and white. Floor, set, attitude – a balanced divide. The mind was loud, he had told you. If the composition needed physical colour, it would be able to complete the picture for itself. Otherwise, the colour of sensation was the underlying theme and mission.

That piece was what had started your lighthearted interest, or so you had naively called it. From mild appreciation of his works, to warm enthusiasm for the inner workings and technique, to going down the spiral to feverish adoration of all that Seonghwa captured. It was a glimpse into how he saw the world, and how he wanted to aid others in perceiving it. The initial embarrassment that had come with studying his photobooks that you had checked out from the library had subsided as you ceased to avoid the concept of eroticism. On the contrary, in some of your projects you had made attempts to emulate the master’s style, which had earned the attention of one of your professors and closest mentors. After confirming that you had not gained access to a closed early showing of the photographer’s exhibition, he had been kind enough to extend an invitation, thereby changing the course of your life.

The event had been an extension of the man, complete in the same hues, down to the very last detail. Even the guests were all a part of the scene, blurred to emphasise the subject, the creator. He was gallant, attentive, guiding you from masterpiece to masterpiece even though he had hordes of hardened professionals and eagle-eyed critics to entertain. He had made you feel central to something other than your obligations. Deserving of time and space. And left you with a business card where he had neatly added his personal mobile phone number, making you promise to consider working with him as soon as you could.

After a year of stalling on any decision, you had applied, and became his apprentice. You had discovered that Seonghwa had been keeping tabs on you, producing printouts of your own work during the informal interview he had organised, and asking you to elaborate on aspects that you had intentionally hidden away. You realised that it was impossible to hide anything from him, your mind was behind an open door. Rapidly, his world became yours, and you turned to seeing it in the beautiful black and white.

You took a sip of your hot coffee from your beloved dalmatian patterned mug cradled in one hand, scrolling through social media with the other. Checking works tagged with anything relevant to your teacher’s studio and works had become a habit for you, and as such, you continued to do it even though Seonghwa had hired a social media manager a couple of months ago. To your defence, most of their work was done remotely, so you could take pride in being the first one to see your favourite artist break out into a megawatt grin, giving you a peck on the cheek if you were lucky. In those moments, you swore you would do anything just to see and feel it all again. A smile crept onto your lips as you indulged in your fantastical daydreams, one which you tried to mask by taking another long sip.

“Your boss really should let you catch a break. This is not even intern level stuff.” You had not noticed your boyfriend’s presence behind you, and with a glance behind you noticed that he was lazily eyeing your screen. Good thing you were deep in some nature photography at least, rather than your boss’s or the studio’s page. It had been a touchy subject recently. And by recently, it meant the entirety of the time you had been hired there and had been earning a steady income from what Wooyoung had called your ‘hobby’.

“Call it market research. It is important for any artist to keep a finger on the pulse, otherwise they will be left behind, and won’t be able to innovate.” You locked your phone for good measure, placed it face down on the table and spun yourself around on the bar stool. You had insisted on having a pair at the breakfast table to be economical, seeing as the area was simply an extension of the kitchenette’s counter space. Plus, they were a wonderful snowy white and matched with your recent furniture upgrades.

Wooyoung appeared less than amused, though it was not much of a surprise to you.

“But the guy will be taking the same fap material pics anyways, so what’s the point?” he countered, running a hand through his dark hair. There was something you knew for certain about the man you had been with for the last one and a half years, and living together for nine months. He was hilariously easy to read. Past the façade of biting comments and cheeky quips, he was as good as a flyer on a posterboard at keeping things hidden from you.

“I see you have your day planned out, huh?” Your response was quick and venomous, and you noticed Wooyoung roll his eyes and trail the gaze to a print hanging on the wall to your right, in the living room. It had been a gift from your boss, a ‘less stimulating’ piece perfect for family life, as he had elaborated, making you laugh. After giving you a soft embrace, he had let his hands linger on your waist, and whispered his congratulations on your moving in with your boyfriend right against your ear, sending shivers down the spine. You were not ashamed to say that it was Park Seonghwa’s touch you had thought about during your first night, in your own apartment, together with Jung Wooyoung.

“So do you. Dolled up and ready to impress, I see?” a classic response as of late. Equal parts aggressive and accusatory, equal parts hinting at his still lingering desire for you.

Irritation. Jealousy. That was what had been fuelling your relationship since the start. Truth be told, you were surprised it had lasted as long as it did, considering how you wanted nothing more than to slam his head against the wall sometimes. That was what happened when two individuals who had sold their soul to the creative arts decided to live under the same roof, under the illusion that they had found their lifelong muse. You had been there, in the very beginning; confident that Wooyoung was the one likeminded collection of visions, the closest thing there was on this earth to a soulmate. You had melted under his touch, much like the intricate sculptures he crafted and carved away, but it only resulted in you eventually being burned and the ceramic of your heart - cracked.

Nothing gold couldn’t fix. Or, in your case, it was the hours you spent at the studio, letting yourself get carried away by the intoxicating sensuality you were tasked with capturing. If it were anyone except you who was with Wooyoung, they would have probably started a riot and confronted him, but his behaviour gave you an excuse to mentally reduce him to an abstract expressionist dot on your canvas and dedicate yourself wholly to your idol. You told yourself that you were engaging in these mind games only until your lease were to run out. Then, you would quietly not renew it – to your advantage, Wooyoung was not much of a documents man, leaving it to whoever was closest, which just so happened to be his ‘dearest’ with a vengeance. It was not a matter of taking it out on Wooyoung because you had been scorned – oh no, it was because you found it unfair that he could act this way while your conscience had deemed this to be taboo. Besides, you needed something above you, a higher legislative power, to take that final step.

But who were you kidding? Had you the ability to control the way in which you thought of Seonghwa, you would have probably had the resolve to pack up your things and go anywhere, as long as it was far away from Wooyoung. He would remember you by the pieces he had sculpted in your honour, inspired by your frame, by the fire that had burned out some time ago. But even then, say you had left, and your black suitcase with metal decal at the ready, camera lazily slung over your neck, where would you go, when your feet could only remember the route from this loveless apartment to P.SH Studio?

“Mm, you know it. Rough day today, so I will probably be back late.” Not that you would notice was left unspoken. You wanted to at least finish your coffee before the bickering started.

“Just how you like it. Isn’t it right?” He was pushing your buttons, purposefully twisting your worlds into lewd euphemism. Wooyoung enjoyed driving you up the wall – probably the closest he came to actually giving you some kind of excitement in recent weeks. Otherwise, he was perfectly satiated, and you might as well be décor, sauntering around from room to room. It was as if he took pleasure in knowing that your mind was hazy, but the distance between you concrete, and only getting larger.

You swivelled back around to face away from your boyfriend, but caught his darkened gaze at the last moment. Head lowered to make his dark hair fall slightly over his eyes, a dangerous smirk dancing on his lips, still in your vision as you stared at the bottom of the cup, thoughtlessly moving the remaining grounds that were suspended in rapidly cooling droplets. You listened to Wooyoung pushing himself off the cupboards, and step towards you, until his chin was hovering just above you shoulder, and you could count his breaths.

“Want me to give you a little pep talk?” he whispered, turning to peck your earlobe a couple of times. You gripped your mug, not wanting to satisfy Wooyoung with a reaction.

In these moments, you almost wished you were still infatuated instead of subjecting him to impersonal evaluation. The attention would have then felt special, instead of as an apology in advance for inviting his assistant over to your shared accommodation. Again, his habits and methods were very traceable and blatantly obvious. But at least it let you think of the man you were going to be spending the entire day and evening shooting with, and helped you get rid of your frustrations early, so they did not bother you as much while you watched your master with unbreaking focus. And like in long exposure photography, eventually, everything except him became a blur. It was impossible to associate your own satisfaction with anyone else, so when you felt Wooyoung’s hot, needy lips trailing from your ear to the lower jaw, and his hand snaking up your thigh, pushing your black skirt up with it, you merely shut your eyes, and thought of him.

To your delight, Wooyoung was not being vocal like he usually would as he continued to caress you, his other hand now having found its place on your waist, effectively making him wrap around you. His sturdy chest was pressing against your shoulder blade while he nipped at the sensitive skin at the base of your neck. You cursed yourself as you felt a moan threatening to escape you, and bit your lower lip. Oh, to imagine yourself as one of those models in monochrome, revealing their true nature for the first time only to him. He never touched them, at least not in front of you, but oh how they wanted to be. You understood them wholeheartedly – your imagination being the only thing to get you closer to Park Seonghwa.

The hand that you mentally removed from its owner slinked away from your thigh, completely hiking the skirt up and slipping under the band of your black panties. You liked to think that your strive to match inside and out gave you more desirability, thus enabled you to be more confident at work – a silly way of masking your subconscious intentions. Who were you trying to fool? The other slid under your shirt, and, without bothering to take it off, tugged your bra aside to reveal your shapely breasts. The sudden change in temperature proved to be stimulating, leading to your nipples increasing in sensitivity. The hand carefully, patiently brushed over the tip of its erectness. You inhaled sharply and gave a little further into the feeling. No harm done, right?

Tapping into your mind palace, it conjured an external image of what was happening to you, the subject of the moving photograph. It was a surrealist, fantastical performance, challenging the imaginary viewer with physical abstraction. You could not help but wonder if how you were unravelling right this moment would look good through the lens. What settings would be used for this shoot? You ran the numbers, and with each one, turned more and more pliable, a putty in the strong arms that had permeated into this early morning day dream. Two fingers slipped into your half open mouth, and teasing, you ran the tip of your tongue over them, wordlessly giving full access and commanding they stop teasing you any longer.

A 105mm lens would do it. Focus should be on the act, other elements fading into the background and removing any undesired presence – a mechanical fog, heightening your desire. Heat pooled to your core as you felt what could only be equivalent to sparks of electricity coursing from your exposed and stimulated breasts down to the now aching arousal. He would probably praise you for being so responsive to him – any task, no matter how small, had earned you the warmed gratitude before, so why could that not be the same here? He would give you his undivided attention, slipping those fingers, coated in saliva, down to the pleading sex, poking your inner thighs to give him better access. You obliged, visualising how a gentle, approving smile would settle on the beautiful man’s every feature, down to the slight squint of his eyes. He leaned in closer to you, his chest hitting against your back once more as he suddenly squeezed your nipple, and ran his digits over your hard clit, coaxing out a gasp.

Your molars sank into your inner cheek with such power that you thought you would draw blood, as the fingers continued to tease you, moving in painfully slow circles around the nub, making your muscle clench and inadvertently grind your hips forwards, for even a small bit more friction. The action spurred him on, and soon enough you felt a pair of soft lips trailing across from your jawline to your collarbone, occasionally stopping to pay special attention to what he knew would make you scream. Barely being able to contain yourself, you stopped preventing the sinful melody from escaping you, and moaned to a particularly precise adoration of skin on the side of your neck. Fingers, which had been mercilessly abusing your impossibly sensitive clit, slipped between your folds and glided down their length, coating them in your own arousal. You had not realised just how wet you had gotten, raw desire coating the inside of your panties.

This had to be shot in the same rush as the one you were being enveloped by – handheld, manual, shutter speed at 1/200th – it only made sense to do so. This had to be sultry, less exposed to the lamp lights. A sensuality meant to be contained in the shadows. With a final flick, which made you groan in pleasure, only begging for more, the fingers travelled down the length of your soaked pussy lips, practically hooking it in and curling themselves into you. The entry of the digits into your trembling cunt sent your thoughts into a flurry, clouding you from seeing anything except stars and the man who shared his name with the celestial apparitions.

If not for the heat building in your lower half at an astounding rate, you would have been more amused at your conclusion for best using ISO 800 for this scene – high sensitivity, indeed. How terribly you wanted to capture this intimate portrait, encapsulate the dreamlike tenderness that you were visualising for none other than Park Seonghwa. Black and white. Lustful and loving. Fast and slow. He was a man of contrasts and unthinkable combinations, he was the only one who could understand your vision.

The rhythmic, accelerating pumping of masterful fingers into your pussy was caused you to lose focus, attention span reduced to mere instinct. Writhing in the chair, you were about to fully transport yourself into the studio, forgetting to set the shutter speed for the pretend shoot, when you caught the last voice that you wanted to hear in the building of your high:

“I bet you’re thinking of him, you dirty girl.” Wooyoung hissed right into your ear, an unsaid challenge in his tone. A flash of guilt ran over you as you were caught red-minded but did not want to go through the trouble of denying that what he said was true. Blame sculptors and their skilful hands, bringing you to a certain ruin.

“Shut… up, ah!” you yelped as you felt your boyfriend’s thumb pressing against your bud, moving at an entirely different pace as it stimulated just the tip, shifting your folds further apart.

“What, don’t want to hear me in your daydreams?” he teased you, knowing full well that you would agree if you weren’t so secretive. He had clocked some time ago that you were not indifferent to your boss, however he did not realise just how far gone you were. In his mind, the claims he was throwing out were a mere improvisation, the best he could conjure to fuel his hate-driven passion towards you.

“I- mfph, said, shut-”

“Such a needy little slut for him.” You were insufferable. When you were like this, trying to regain control of the situation even though you were clay in his hands, melting under him, he was regretful that you could not be the only one in his turbulent life.

If it was not work, then it was the mood. If it was not the mood it was something he did wrong. And if, somehow, he did nothing and you confirmed that, you simply pitied him. That was the power you held. You ignited within Wooyoung a ferocious need to destroy the pedestal onto which he had elevated you in the very beginning. But as he gave you distance, toppled one platform after another, you only seemed to soar higher above him, just within reach but still, not someone he could control. He was no longer a figure of romantic authority for you – perplexed by the exact timeline, he assumed that it was simply meant to be that way. Carnal pleasure in this united destruction.

“I know you want his fingers in your tight cunt, don’t you, my darling?”

You could not respond as Wooyoung continued to pick up the pace, bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. The pet name was obviously taken from the snippets of conversation between you and Seonghwa that your boyfriend had overheard. Whenever he would have an idea for another series, or changes to some details for already planned scenes, he would run them by you, always interested in your opinions and taking them as the most valuable pieces of the creative puzzle. You really were here, getting off to the thought of being listened to, the master's hums and approvals at the forefront of ideation. You had to give it to him, Wooyoung knew how to make you come undone, even if it was by guesswork.

The vocalisation of the real source of your climb had flipped a switch, and Seonghwa flooded your mind. Wooyoung did not speak up again, and you were gone from regular consciousness, the dark lustful abyss surrounding you. Park Seonghwa was right there with you. You dashed from vision to vision, stringing them together to describe how he would feel. How it would feel for him to be the one to capture soft, supple tenderness of your throat with his enticing mouth, and how his arms would embrace your form and crush you in boundless pleasure. For the first time, he could be in front of the camera, together with you. The blur of the background disappeared as you adjusted the focus to the lewdness, the wet sounds of his outrageous rhythm. His face was now crystal clear before your eyes, his sharp features, half-lidded eyes as he brought you to your orgasm, praising you for being such an obedient little girl for him.

Your orgasm came crashing down on you with unexpected force. Overwhelmed, you let the sensation wash over you like a tempestuous ocean. Seeing only those two beloved colours, you felt for the seat beneath you to support your unsteady form. You could not yell, could not let out as much as a whisper as the etchings of the man you so desired glinted before you, lips parted in a silent proclamation of brutal, unrefined passion and obsessive adoration. Comical, how it was his manifestation amidst your sensual release that was the embodiment of love and lust, and not the man who you intentionally possessed with the role of Seonghwa.

“So fucked out, Y/N, shit. Just look at yourself.” Wooyoung chuckled as he watched you coming back to reality, trying to blink away the haze of the climax. He had remained still, wrapped around you almost in a protective gesture, his chest serving as a support for your arched body. His own arousal was frustrating him, trapped under a layer of denim, the friction only making him more impatient.

“Vulgar, as always.”

“Says you – look at this precious little mess you made, my sweet. Or can I even say ‘my’ anymore?” He demonstratively twisted you, so you were facing him, and with the hand that was attacking your breast now on his hip, he lifted the other away from your pulsating sex and lapped up the nectar that remained on his fingers, eyes lowered and scrutinising you through fluttering lashes. The bulge of his crotch commanded your gaze, albeit only for a split second. You were far from being in a Wooyoung mood. You squeezed your legs shut, feeling the soaked panties rubbing against you, and rolled your eyes.

“So, why in the world did you do that?” your nonchalance was painfully fake, airiness taking away from any impact you had intended for your question to have.

“If I told you I missed you, what would you do?” he countered, throwing the ball back in your court.

“Tell you to shove that bullshit where the sun doesn’t shine.”

“Way ahead of you there, sweetheart.” He winked, completely dispelling your sensual musings.

“Run that mouth one more time, Woo, I dare you.”

“Oh, so you want my mouth to treat you right too. How greedy. Plus, I bet you would much rather have a certain someone else do that.” He kept on going, goading you into a spat. What had previously been a joke now transformed into a hypothesis, and Wooyoung was keen to see how far you would go to keep the truth from him.

“Shut u-”

“I’ve seen the photos you have of him, sweetie. All ‘focused with tongue sticking out’, or ‘making a playful face in a selfie’. Even I can imagine as far.” He could see that he was close to cracking you.

In your vulnerable, stupefied glory, the barrier between your pursed, plump lips and cruel heart was as weak as it could be. He needed to hear that you did not love him anymore. Not because it would give him any particular relief. Mainly for minimising regret over his actions. Convincing himself that what you two had was long gone and you were stuck in a routine. He needed to hear you say it. Wooyoung needed you to utter the words, be explicit that you wanted someone else. He peered into your eyes, unwaveringly, in search for at least a hint. The rise and fall of your chest was still uneven, yet you managed to return a glare, outwardly unfeeling, unresponsive, and worst of all, indifferent. He wondered if his little act of service was actually an act of pity on your behalf.

“I’m leaving.” Silence turned to bitter disappointment. It was time to slip away, very noticed, but that was the intention. Wooyoung pulled you closer to him by pinching your collar, letting you observe how a natural grimace underwent a metamorphosis into a boyish grin, as though he genuinely wanted to wish you the best.

“Have a lovely day.”

“Have fun being a ‘hand me down’,” you mercilessly quipped, fed up with his taunts. If one were to objectively compare you and him, the answer to who was the instigator of this shipwreck was clear enough. You were confident that it was not you, since up until this point, you had remained strictly theoretical, and did not dare bring up neither his unfaithfulness nor your dissatisfactions. “Fuck, I have got to change these now…” you stated, mainly to yourself as you hopped off the stool and made a beeline for the bedroom to grab a fresh set of lingerie.

Wooyoung fell into deep contemplation, leaning back on the counter with his elbows, and letting out a soft whistle. So, you did know of his escapades, as he had assumed. He had to give it to you, you were a phenomenal actress, and all these months that he had been indulging in one temporary partner after another, you had maintained a cool demeanour, letting your own evolution and walk through life without considering him in the present nor the future. Had you really so readily accepted his dismissal of you? His disrespect? Were you not seeking… vengeance? Could you not openly hate him for his sake?

He regarded you with indignation as you rushed from room to room, intent on ignoring his presence. Had you spared him any more emotion than basal instinct, even if it was just demanding his silence with rude yells, Wooyoung would have been content. But all he had left now was to watch your silhouette, now donning that oversized shirt dress, gathered at the waist with a black leather corset which had never failed to drive him wild, disappear out of the apartment, front door shutting softly behind you and leaving him alone with his demons and the divine shapes of your body that his hands had memorised. For the first time on his own volition, he cancelled that day’s rendezvous. He would only be able to think of you, anyways.

You were late. Terribly late. And no excuses about public transport or traffic could cover for you. And like hell you were going to say to your boss that you were late because you were fantasizing about him while your cheating boyfriend fingered you. To be frank, you could mention that you could not board the trains since they were overcrowded, but you encountered the issue only because you left the house at peak commute time, like an utter fool. Shame had settled into you as you were travelling across the city, squeezed between passengers, faceless and much the same as one another. You had tried to avoid touching anything, relying on your platform shoes to give you balance - you did not want your filth to embed itself into the doors and handles. How was what you had allowed yourself to do at all appropriate? And how had you conceded to Wooyoung's accusations and teasing, accepting his conjectures as soon as he played into your darkest dreams? Stuck in this blameful loop, you had almost missed your stop and had a number of glares sent and not so kind words muttered in your address, as you lurched through the crowded carriage by sheer inertia from the train stopping, and out of the doors.

It was nearly forty minutes past the hour on which you had agreed to begin preparations today, which meant even less time until the arranged boudoir shoot with the model Seonghwa had signed to work with. Thankfully this did not require too much effort, since for the most part you and your boss had the bright idea of beginning last night: setting up the backdrops, readying the series of props and leaving the clothing rack with pre-selected outfits out by the set. But the fact that you broke a promise that you had made to your boss, the master, was what aggravated your brooding.

Once you flew up the stairs that led from the entrance to the main part of the studio, you crept into the space nearly folded over. Bowing repeatedly in apology, you could barely see where you were going, and instead of making an uneventful entrance, were halted by a hand on either one of your shoulders, grinding you to a halt and making you straighten out.

“Woah there, beautiful, don’t run me over.”

You went pale as you came face to face with none other than your boss. The one who you had just been thinking about in less than professional ways. You grinned at him sheepishly, lowering your head and choosing to focus on his outfit. Black Oxfords, slacks and shirt, black hair in the elegant 4:6 parting… of course he would be embodying this timeless hue. He had explained to you before: the reason why he was dedicated to the monochromatic palette was because if one were to consider its formulation, black was the most ‘colourful’. Seonghwa was enamoured with everything around him, and thought its predominant use to be the optimal method of honouring nature.

“Hey, my eyes are up here.” He chuckled, while adjusting the top of the dress from invisible creases, giving you a discreet onceover. It was impossible for you to remain composed, and an indecipherable amalgamation of ‘sorry’s and haphazardly mashed elaborations that all amounted to nervous white noise began to pour.

You were cute when you were shy, he concluded to himself as he took in your presently meek form, cooing that you need not worry. Though the illusion was broken as soon as he spotted what was, unmistakably, a fresh hickey that was only just gaining prominence on your delicate neck. A playful smirk threatened his lips as he raised an eyebrow and cut your monologue short.

"A kiss from your boyfriend wishing you a good day at work, my love?" The odd combination of words sent your heart ablaze. It was like Wooyoung's existence did not matter one bit to him, he was above it.

"Huh? What, sorry?"

"Your neck." You were caught off-guard by the handsome brunette pointing at his own neck, and then tilting his head towards you. An unreadable smile was on his lips as he watched your checks heat up and you stuttering out a barely audible curse. It was endearing, watching how you, normally unphased and professional, crumbling at the slightest mention of something even the tiniest bit suggestive if it was related to you.

Did you want to appear 'pure' in front of him? Unaffected and innocent? Whilst it was admirable that you had been holding out for so long, be it because of your so-called commitments or something darker, it was the not-so-subtle glances you sent in his direction that drove him to the brink of insanity, igniting a demonic creativity that led him to shoot one masterpiece after the other. Your hesitation blended with an undeniable desire was his strange addiction.

When Seonghwa had met you at his exhibition all that time ago, within you he saw a sophisticated fragility, like that of a precious artwork, or of a spring flower. At the beginning of your journey as a photographer but showing much promise, the sparkle in your eyes left him dizzy. There was something about you that reminded him of a cherub, a sweet creature untainted by misery and heartbreak. Or so was his initial perception that had given him the push to take a deeper interest in you. As he observed your rise in the circle, be it through his extensive web of connections or his own eyes, he noticed your expressions morph into showcasing a grotesque chiaroscuro. A daunting heaviness of your portrait miniseries for a class, where you had placed every pore, every wrinkle of your subjects under scrutiny in the stark light, left an inkling of fear and concern in Seonghwa's heart. This was work done in passing, an experiment for a module where you had to present your interpretation of an assigned theme, with yours being 'heartbreak'. He had found out about it by accident while catching up over a coffee with your professor for that class. And yet, it was this collection that demolished any doubts that he might have had about your future as an artist. You lived through each portrait. Your soul was shared with the model, and immortalised. A collection of portraits of people who had lost love.

You had a story to tell, and what better way to do it than through photography? Any description of his joy when you had asked if his offer of mentorship and fulltime work was still standing would be an understatement. He wanted to play a part in your development. To help you harness the immeasurable talent you had and give you the opportunity and resources necessary for a newcomer to the otherwise cruel industry. Seonghwa felt the urge to be your protector, someone who you could turn to and rely on. While you two maintained a professional relationship, he could not help but treat you with extra care and affection – it came naturally. And it only increased once he found out that, apparently, you had an excuse for a significant other. What little rationality he had left when it came to you proclaimed he should distance himself, but by a risk-hungry democracy, he only inched closer to the fire. Although you were always hesitant to share anything about your partner, he managed to piece the facts together. You were hanging on by a thread, and Seonghwa wanted to cut it and be there to catch you.

He felt it tighten once again as you dashed for the full length mirror standing in the corner of the room, inspecting the bruised skin, mortified. If only he could have the key to that gorgeous mind of yours to know just what you were recalling as you stared into the mirror and attempted to raise the collar of your dress to cover it, but to no avail. The corset – a neat contraption with a convenient zip at the back, highlighting your graceful features, was holding the article stubbornly in place. As you began to search in your bag for the concealer which you just so happened to forget due to the disturbance of your routine this morning, Seonghwa stalked towards you, raising his hand to place it over yours, reducing agitation to mere shock. The surprise on your face as he guided you into a more relaxed stance accelerated the pace of his heart to unprecedented heights.

“Do not worry about it, hey, look at me, Y/N, are you okay?” you had refrained from lifting your head.

Everything was going wrong, and you were the only one to blame. Automatically, you moved to cover the hickey, pressing a palm against it. Did Wooyoung do this on purpose, to send some sick message to you and your boss? Claim ownership over someone who was, emotionally, already lightyears away? How you despised that man, but even more, how you despised yourself for the utter lack of control you had. Splitting into thousands of pieces, you offered too many parts to the one and a half years of an illusion, clearly not having enough left to make a concrete decision and dare to spread your wings. Even if you were to be burned by the sun, you would give up anything for the smallest chance to not be plagued by the conundrum and would soar. The ghost of a touch that Seonghwa applied to your knuckles sparked your internal pleas, and again you availed yourself of safe formality, and let apologies overflow.

Confused, Seonghwa let the weight of his hand become more noticeable as he turned you a little more towards him, meeting you half way with a side step. Taking the purse out of your hand and setting it down on a painted bench set right by the mirror, he was about to pull you even closer but hesitated.

“Sorry, may I put my hands on your upper arms?” you glanced up to meet Seonghwa’s earnest expression, “Would it be alright with you?” only once you nodded did he let himself do just as he had explained, and lightly squeezed the muscle. “Y/N, what happened, talk to me.”

This man was going to be the death of you. Asking for permission over things Wooyoung did not even consider. Ever. Not even when he was just trying to ‘woo’ you, for the lack of a better word. If your heart had not melted before, it sure did now, as Seonghwa continued whispering phrases of reassurance, concerned but not pushing you to reveal more than you wanted. Presenting himself as your safe haven. He was normally open about physical affection with those close to him, but respect was an even higher priority.

“Seonghwa, I-… I am not sure I can talk about it… at least right now.” You mumbled, dropping your arm to your side.

“I get that. Sure. You okay to do the shoot? If you need to go home-”

“Anything but home! Uh, I mean, yeah. I am okay. I just need to cover this… thing… thank you for spotting it. And again, I am so sorry you had to set all of this up and I am a mess and-”

“Ma belle, what you need to cover is your responsibilities. So, if you’re sorry, get to it.” The sudden sternness snapped you out of your mental drift, and you widened your eyes. His finger dug into your skin, not quite as strong as to leave marks, but enough to make the temperature begin rising. Voice dropped into a whisper, but still bearing traces of near maternal attentiveness, he explained:

“The make up artist will be here in about fifteen minutes, but I assume you don’t want anyone to see it, so if you don’t mind, I have an accessory for you to try on.” He moved away to stride to a cabinet on the other side of the room and retrieved an item from one of the drawers.

Upon closer inspection, you recognised the item to be a thick black leather collar, with a circular silver detail at the front. This was a prop from one of the shoots you had collaborated on a couple of months ago – a series that took inspiration from dominatrix culture and bondage. Your cheeks began to heat up as Seonghwa raised it closer to eye level, and smiled sweetly, as if he did not have the same association with the object as you did.

“This should do it. And if not, you know we have some items with more… substantial coverage,” you hummed in agreement, unsure of how to proceed. Seonghwa was expectant, motioning for you to let him help with the choker.

Not finding any reason to disagree with the proposition, you lifted your hair, while he walked behind you and slid the item around your neck, positioning and fastening it in such a way that the bruise was fully concealed. As he worked on the miniature buckle, a strong sense of déjà vu overtook you, making you even more sensitive to his proximity. This was too close to what you had been playing in your head; a couple of steps going south, and it would be a re-enactment. You bit your lip nervously, listening to every breath.

When Seonghwa requested that you show the now completed outfit to him, the intensity with which he was affected by it was unforeseeable. He barely managed to utter a compliment, clenching his fist to suppress an urge to ruin the beauty. Here stood the one who he had been searching for in his art. The one who he had subconsciously been dedicating work to. The Aphrodite, and at the same time, the visionary and his partner in crime. And in that pretty collar, there was no longer any reminder that you should be off limits. The forbidden fruit. To hell with common courtesy-

Seonghwa dipped his head towards you, and once millimetres away, shut his eyes and sank into the feeling of his lips locking with yours. Just as he had thought, you were a sweet paradise, leading him into a paralysis - all he could ponder was how far he could go. You did not push away, joining him in the passionate abyss and getting drunk off his delicious and soft lips. In unison you were satiating your hunger, the current proximity simply not enough. To deepen the long-awaited kiss, you ran your fingers through his hair and gently tugged at the back, causing him to break away momentarily, revealing darkened, carnivorous orbs. He stepped even closer to you, his hips almost touching yours as hands travelled to your waist and pulled you in. Perhaps it was good that you had as little control as you did – or were just this willing when it came to this dazzling man.

There was no good reason for this to be happening. In fact, had your life been a show, most of the audience would likely say you were to blame, that you were a cheater, a whore living two lives, but to you even these seconds, turning to minutes, were worth it. With each caress you were erasing your memories of early morning, and of the fiend who, undoubtedly had organised his own fun. Didn’t a girl deserve to smile too?

Nothing felt real. Floating, life forever altered, relishing in the fact that there was no turning back. Finally, the thread snapped. A precious little bird, freed from the confines of losing oneself, day in, day out. Seonghwa noticed how you entered a flow state, hypnotised by the taste of your personal heaven. The Birth of Venus, your vibrancy brought to light by none other than him – couldn’t the other man see that you could not be carved nor moulded? You needed the spark, the energy, the worship. For that, you would go to the end of the world, but now, Seonghwa was the only one who had the power to choose if you did.

A sharp ringing of a phone interrupted your dizzying sensuality, making Seonghwa groan as he took out the vexing device from his pocket, flipping it to answer. As he talked, however, it was as though the moment still continued, with him not taking his eyes off you a single time, only motion being his mouth outlining the contours of your jawline, moving to your reddened lips to wipe away smudged lipstick. You could not move, fixated on his mellifluous low tone as he continued to admire you. Like you were his magnum opus.

“My darling, our time to shine. The whole crew will be here in five.” He covered the speaker, sharing with you what the manager on the other end of the line had stated. Unwillingly, he had to part from you, but was halted by your nimble hands cupping his face and returning the favour, clearing his face of any traces of your makeup. As a way of thanks, he turned to give your fingers a peck, a brief amused chuckle escaping him as you raised your eyebrows.

Though it was customary for Seonghwa to be a little more physically affectionate than most when it came to working in a professional environment, the significance of his attention towards you had changed drastically and did not go unnoticed by either of you. Each lingering caress held a universe, and served as silent reassurance, communication of the ongoing symbiosis between you and him. As he would reach over to grab a different lens, he would just so happen to brush past you, and send you, just you, a smile. While his hands were pressing all the right buttons, and he was uttering the right commands that the manager was translating to the model – as it turned out she did not speak a word of Korean nor any of the languages Seonghwa had picked up during his travels, and generally preferred to remain void of emotion, his thoughts were entirely on you. As he guided the model from one position to another, directed the feeling that she was supposed to be embodying, but ultimately failing, his only salvation was pretending what it would be like if you were on that chaise longue sofa, clad in elegant lingerie.

Far too many long, gruelling hours had passed by, and Seonghwa had shown far too much patience with the solemn, rigid woman on the set. The sun had already gone down, so he was trying his best to retake some of the shots, with you running from reflector to studio light, endlessly readjusting. Both you and him were winded, exhausted both physically and mentally as you, the model and the manager were the only ones left working – upon Seonghwa’s request, you had dismissed the stylist and makeup artist, agreeing that if any last touch ups were needed due to the heat from the lights, you would figure it out. Art school had taught you how to improvise in times of crisis.

At this stage, it would be better to simply wrap up for the day and pick up again tomorrow; it could be that the ‘energy’ for the shoot was off for someone, or everyone. Could be that there simply was dissonance between certain people on set. But it could not be any worse than what you had waiting for you at home, so, in some ways the long shoot was a blessing in disguise. With the new dynamic between you and Seonghwa to explore, you had almost forgotten about the fact that you had a significant other, at least until your phone began to ring incessantly in your bag, forcing you into a run across the room. As soon as you checked the caller id, your blood ran cold, and with a hardened expression, you swiped to answer.

“Y/N, hello there, sweetheart!”

“Hi.” You could not remember the last time Wooyoung had called you out of the blue. You thought that such behaviour had remained in the flirting stage for him.

“You sound stressed. Hard day at work?”

“Yes. It isn’t over yet, so I need to go.”

“Aw… And here I was, about to ask you what you would like for dinner.” He elaborated. You could hear the pout that he was undoubtedly wearing, along with some shuffling.

“Back so soon? No fun at work?” you remarked, implicitly jibing.

“Yes… terribly uneventful. Was thinking about you all day, replaying this morning…” he was acting too sweet for your liking, and for his present character. Had he been conversing with anyone else and you were listening in, you could have made more sense of it. But this made your skin crawl.

As he babbled away, your focus drifted. Never before had the man on the call felt so foreign – more distant than a stranger. It was like the dull words being uttered were entirely inaccessible, nothing more than the ghost of lost meaning, thrown into a gust of wind. His efforts were lost on you, for you had no heart to tolerate Wooyoung anymore. With an unprecedented tranquility, a conclusion had been reached, and it felt right to step away. That decision, that snap that you had been seeking had finally happened, and you were observing him while pretending to listen to the incessant chatter. The dream, the fresh start, the possibility. Seonghwa had captured your heart long before you had even met Wooyoung – so, maybe, it was you who had been unfair. Getting into a relationship when you had been simply fooling yourself.

A conversation between your boss and the manager, which had previously been level and measured out, was growing more heated by the second. You perked up at the elevated volume, and pulled the phone away from your ear to tune in.

“…I can’t work with her when she is not even trying to work with me!” Seonghwa exclaimed, clearly upset as a familiar southern lilt had seeped into the phrase, naturally deepening his voice and leaving his interlocutor taken aback. But not for long enough, as they recovered and snapped back:

“She’s pretty, isn’t she? Making her look good in a frame is your job, so, do it.”

Eyes wide, you whispered some excuse to Wooyoung, cutting him off mid-sentence. You wished you felt bad, to preserve some social dignity, but it was liberating to finally be the one to elicit shock.

"Honey, what did you say? I'm worried."

The fingers of your free hand curled into a fist as you registered the urgency in his voice. A drastic change from even a mere couple of minutes. You fell silent, processing your reaction. Why did you freeze? Why could you not just... leave?

"Y/N, darling, are you there? Do you need any help? I'll be right there if you need me..." he continued, concern growing with every syllable as you began to dig your nails into the soft flesh of your palm.

Part of you was still attached, it seemed. Some subconscious element that had been thoroughly trained by none other than Wooyoung, trained to believe him and only him. That toxic portion was still confident that he wished for nothing more except for you to be well and in a blissful harmony. In his shadow. A gifted sculptor, whispering watered down droplets of affection, softening up the clay of your innocent heart until he could leave his permanent mark. Wooyoung was here. Wooyoung wanted to be your creator. But the magic trick ceased to be impressive as soon as you realised, and now could take the risk to fight back.

"I'm okay, I'll... I'll see you later." You wanted to conclude the conversation as soon as possible, seeing as you could see that Seonghwa was beginning to lose his patience. It was a rare occurrence but unpleasant enough to avoid... at all costs.

"Is he hurting you?" A sharp jab, out of the blue, right into the arguments that you had been collecting against the man on the phone. He? Was Wooyoung really accusing Seonghwa of something you could not even begin to imagine him doing?

"What?" You mumbled, so quietly that it could have been to yourself.

"I can hear the shouting, Y/N. Not only is he overworking you, but... resorting to violence? Who does he think he is?"

Your eyes darted to the black-haired angel on the other side of the studio, about to hang his halo on a clothing rack in the strive to prove a point to a person who did not want to listen. Surely, that was an appropriate reaction? And was he not the one who gave you what you swore to be your first love-filled kiss?

"Sweetheart, just say the word... do you need to go home?"

Wooyoung was your boyfriend still, wasn't he? Many promises and commitments later, many months as one whole. He couldn't recommend something downright outrageous, since he would have to face your wrath in close proximity. Yes, you were still safe there. Home. Not perfect, but a home nonetheless. What did Seonghwa promise? Do? You were a colleague to him, a subordinate. An inexperienced photographer who barely graduated from being a pure amateur. Maybe you would be doing him a favour if you went home right now. Home to the person who had officially called you his.

"I..."

"Mm?"

"Y/N! Can you give me a hand?" You winced at the question turned command that Seonghwa boomed. It did little to dispel your assumption that Wooyoung might be right in saying you should leave, but at the same time, cleared your head just enough to realise that here you were again. Falling into the same pattern of blind obedience.

"Was it him? Say no!"

"Sorry what? Can't hear you I think you are breaking the connection is so bad so sorry I really did not understand bye-" you stuttered out, ending the call, and letting out a sigh of relief.

You felt dizzy. Exhausted. The brief conversation with Wooyoung had drained you more than the photoshoot, leaving you numb and dreading the end of the workday. Just how much strength would it take to cut all ties? You had not noticed that you had been absent-mindedly playing with the choker, and only when Seonghwa had sent a glare in your direction did you fall from your musings in a cold flash and followed his pointing gestures.

He was turning livid, his expression darkening. You slipped into the background, approaching the model, and gestured for her to follow you. Seeing as she was bored to be here, she was more than happy to follow you to the neatly folded pile of her clothes, paying no mind to the standoff occurring a mere couple of metres away. You cowered as the manager leered at you slyly, and dismissed yet another one of Seonghwa's rational suggestions for how to switch up the shoot to take at least couple of salvaging shots. As the model took her time to get ready, not having heard from her supervisor whether it was time to go or not, you saw Seonghwa's eyes bleed into a ghoulish abyss, barely containing what would be the foundation for a catastrophe.

“How about this, I can find another model, and you can find another photographer to complete this lady’s portfolio. I think both of us would be satisfied with that outcome.” he hissed, refraining from stooping so low so as to use informal language, even though the other man had been disregarding the common principle for the better, or worse, half of the day.

"Who, this... girl?" All eyes were on you, and you could not feel any smaller than you did at that moment. The manager gave you a wry side glance and crossed his arms. "Can she even model?"

"I'd say my co-creator and muse can model. Yes. And better than... many." Seonghwa bit back the offences that had accumulated, but the weight of his words was enough to hint at the lack of welcome. He nodded at you in an attempt to subtly share some comfort, but could not find your eyes, which were tracing lines between the white floorboards.

Muse. The title he had given you with such ease and pride. The title that no artist dared to use lightly out of fear of cursing their inspiration. A warmth spread over your body as the notion ate away at the embedded agitation, washing over the soul and taking, with each wave, the rotting floatation left behind by the person who wanted to sculpt your fate. A muse. And there was no better place for a muse than in a place of art and innovation. Wooyoung could enjoy his dinner by himself.

"Now, if you'll excuse us, it is late, and I don't think this should continue for any longer." The manager broke the silence, though nothing except his indignant utterance littered the ambience.

"Adieu."

The duo had departed, thankfully, in a hurry, with the manager practically pushing the lady with the stony face out of the door. As soon as Seonghwa, from his position by the window, having lifted the tulle away from it with two fingers, saw the pair appear on the street and start in the direction of the busier road that was in the studio’s vicinity, he let out a low, exasperated groan and ruffled his hair. The camera, which had weighed down on his neck not dissimilarly to a ball and chain, had found home on a high stool, while the photographer stormed towards the main set, and crashed onto the chaise longue.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you took in the sight. His right arm was grazing the floor, while the other, palm pointed outwards, was pressing into the bridge of his nose with the wrist. One leg slightly bent, the other fully lying on the plush material, he had landed in a threateningly sensual position that set you ablaze. It was impossible to tell whether this was purposeful or not, but at that moment you began to question why this ethereal man had never made an official appearance in front of the camera. The lights gave him a mystical sheen, only further enhancing the dreamlike quality Seonghwa possessed. You took a tiny step closer, careful to not produce a sound with the thick rubber soles of your boots.

He was worn out. It was painted, clear as day, across his face, and yet he still retained a regal quality, his profile – a timeless elegance. He would not hurt you. It had to be a crude lie said in egoistic anguish. The magnificent individual before you was a healing luminescence, filling up the room, embodying it, spreading the monochrome across your universe until you were hesitant to even consider external matters. This had to be immortalised. You raised your mobile phone, swiping to remove the notifications of messages that Wooyoung had apparently sent you, instead switching to the camera. The angle was not perfect, since you were on the side, the outskirts, but with a careful zoom and some manual finetuning to the settings, you could see the opportunity for a shot. Steadying yourself, you adjusted your hold on the device, and snapped away.

An unfamiliar sensation began to course through you as you focused on Seonghwa’s every detail, eyes devouring him and guiding your secret shoot. The thrill of acting on your own accord, capturing an intimate moment for yourself only was leaving you feverish. Enraptured by his slightly parted lips, you went for an extreme close up, leaning further forward and adjusting the settings once again to drop the ISO to 280 and adjusting the shutter speed to a 1/750th. Through the lens you could witness divinity embraced by pitch black, broken only by his grace. One click. Another. You were losing rationality. Snapping away, hypnotised.

“Use the proper camera. It’ll be good practice.” You froze as you were met with Seonghwa’s smouldering gaze, sent right into the lens. With a gasp, you locked your phone and shuddered, flaring up in embarrassment.

“I-I am s-so sorry, I didn’t even a-ask-”

“Apologising to me an awful lot today, aren’t you?” you could not respond, and merely followed Seonghwa’s movements as he raised himself back up and, while still on the sofa, spun to sit facing you. Legs slightly spread apar, he positioned his elbows at the knees, and intently studied you with a smug grin. “A photographer’s calling is to capture beauty as they see it, so if anything, I am honoured, my love.”

A knot began to form in your stomach as you regarded the man. How could he treat your actions so lightly? Should he not be mad? Where was the enraged Seonghwa, who had been on the verge of letting hell break loose? His unreadable nature only proved to elevate your excitement, and you eagerly approached him as he beckoned you:

“Would you show me the photos, darling?” you nodded, taking a seat to his left and unlocking your phone.

Careful not to scroll up, nor to hit any buttons to unleash the guilty pictographic altar that was the candid photographs you had taken at earlier times, you clicked on the first one you had taken this evening and tilted the screen towards the interested man. Prior consideration of your actions as only adorable rapidly evaporated as he inspected the work, astonished by its quality. You had managed to surpass the awkward positioning of the equipment from where you had been standing and made the phone work with you. Seonghwa manoeuvred to be pressed against you, thigh to thigh, and used your startled state to fish your phone out of your hands and scrutinise the pictures freely.

Judging by the reluctance to let go, he could sense that you were hiding something from him. You were heavily interested in where and how he was swiping, and one of your hands was hovering next to his. It was his duty, and his pleasure, to find out what the fuss was about. There was something unequivocally compelling about your transfixion – no dispassionate photographer would be so loving and involved in any image. Even his own works, on occasion, exhibited the ‘technically perfect, and yet far removed’ quality. Seonghwa had a sneaking suspicion about what kinds of pictures you had, but did not want to show how the sheer idea affected him. As he indulged in your reflection on the screen, your trepidation proving irresistible, a spontaneous ruse spawned in his mind, and was rolling off the tip of his tongue in an instant.

“Y/N, could you get me my camera, please? This shot reminded me of one I had taken…”

Waiting for the moment you were outside of arm’s reach, making a beeline to the requested object, he pressed on the back arrow, and within a couple of clicks and scrolls, his guesses were confirmed. A hidden album containing only him. Bursts of his profile, his physique, occupying your gallery. You appeared to be quite selective in when you took the photos, too. More often than not, you emulated Rembrandt style lighting, and the pictures you had favourited were those that reminded him of ancient Greek etchings and sculptures. When did you have the time to do this? How had he not discovered this before? He could not wipe the smirk off his face in time as he saw your shadow fall over him. Far from innocent, weren’t you? The grasp over the camera grew slack, only saved by the habit you had formed of wrapping the strap around your hand to not let it hang loose. With a victorious raising of the eyebrows, Seonghwa turned the phone to you, showcasing what he had ‘just so happened to stumble upon’, and declared:

“I think we have a lot to discuss here, love. Take a seat.” Just when you were about to stiffly settle in the same place, he roughly pulled you to him and onto his lap, grunting as you collided with his powerful thighs. One arm immediately found your waist, fingers toying with the base of the corset, while the other, phone on display, rested like a guard over your legs.

“Now, let’s see… what a collection! How long has it been?” he scrolled slowly, making sure to elevate your sense of shame, though judging by your facial expressions, you were more than happy to be treated how you were at that moment. Eyes half shut, ragged breaths, you were alert and in anticipation. “You kissed me, so you can tell me.” He emphasised, raising up the phone to poke you lightly under the chin.

“A… about seven months…”

“Wow… and how long have you been together with mister Jung Wooyoung?”

“A year and a half…”

“And how long has he been… not satisfying you?” you gaped at Seonghwa in shock. He locked your mobile and set it aside, choosing to play with the metal loop attached to the choker he had picked for you, and tugging just enough for the pressure to build.

“What?”

“Well, evidently there is something that is not there anymore… and these hickeys don’t count, my love. So tell me, what is it?”

“Cheating. He is cheating...” It was challenging to muster up the courage to say the words out loud. It was the first time you openly acknowledged the act for what it was. No euphemisms, no bent truths. It was almost too much for you, as that lump in your throat that had formed during your last conversation with your boyfriend made an irksome return.

“How long?”

“I have had my suspicions for… eight months, confident for… three.”

“I see. I am so sorry, darling I-”

“Now who’s the one apologising?” You joked, a small smile returning to you as you let Seonghwa take the camera from your hands, his chuckle making you shiver.

“Then I hope you won’t need one from me when I do this,” Seonghwa’s voice dropped into a sultry tone before he traced your jawline with his fingers and closed the minimal space between you.

Hands roaming your body, gentle, barely there, treating you like you were a priceless centrepiece made of glass. Compared to the first you had shared, this kiss was an ocean, commencing with a series of lulling waves – a reminder that you need not worry about anything except yourself and what you desired. A crescendo with a building breeze, awakening you from a forlornness and leading you into a glowing, rekindled wanting. The climb towards the crashing tsunami, consuming you as, finally, you felt wholly acknowledged, adored, affirmed.

Your yelp was stifled as he deepened the kiss and let you down slowly onto the velvet fabric of the chaise longue, making sure that your head was lying on the miniature pillow in the corner of the seat by protectively cradling you. Once your back was against the material, Seonghwa hovered over you, a hand on either side while his right knee positioned itself between your legs, with it pushing your dress upwards. His tongue pressed against your teeth, begging for entrance which you readily allowed, and sighed at the feeling of it filling your senses, Seonghwa quickly becoming the only thing you ever wanted to taste. With a tilt of the head, it moved even deeper, while his body was radiating an immeasurable longing for you, its friction against yours nearly making you question your own sanity.

Once you broke apart for gasps of sweet oxygen, sharing the hot air and watching a lewd string of saliva stretch and break between you, you mumbled out a breathy question, which you knew to be your last as you were growing more and more desperate for this man’s heavenly touch.

“Seonghwa… but why?”

“You can only see me. I can only see you. It simply makes sense, no?” he responded, giving you a quick peck on your reddened lips, followed by a couple more on your cheek, until he was right by your ear, “Let me show you that you deserve so much more, darling. Let me show you worship. May I, my love?” his beautiful, dark eyes staring into yours as he awaited your agreement.

“Yes.”

“Très bien.”

With that, the choker flew off you in one swift swipe, and, suddenly, your neck was exposed to him. Hungry orbs trained on the mark that your boyfriend had left, and soon enough Seonghwa’s lips were abusing the same sensitive spot, teasing the skin. After giving it his love and special attention, he moved to another area right beside it, repeating the action, while his knee moved higher for more support, accidentally brushing against your clothed core. You could not help but use the opportunity to buck your hips a little to add to the pooling desire. Unfortunately for you, Seonghwa had caught on too fast, and with satisfied lick, rose up and pushed himself off the chaise longue.

He regarded you through half-lidded eyes, his own arousal starting to build. No longer were there traces of the other man on you. You were free to choose whomever, and you chose him – Seonghwa. This moment had to become timeless.

“Darling, as much as I would love to ravish you right here right now, we have some photos to retake.” He could barely contain himself as you whimpered with frustration, rubbing your thighs together. He reached over to grab the camera and your phone, and added a request for you to undress. Completely.

Erection rubbing against him as he ambled towards the stand, Seonghwa heard a zip, followed by a series of rustles. “You can throw them off set for now, I do not mind.” He called out, his back still to you. A thump, and quietude. Finally at his rightful place as photographer, he let himself retrain on the scene, and felt his heat rise to unprecedented heights. He realised – this was exactly what he had been imagining every time he had a model work with him. Every time he had anybody over, this was what had been guiding his vision. You. Only you. Sat patiently, waiting for his direction.

You heard the clicking of the aperture, and took in Seonghwa’s black-clad form on the stool behind the camera. It was easy enough to guess why it was uncomfortable to remain in one place, but you were not about to ruin the photoshoot. You were a professional, after all.

“Do you think you can show me how you touch yourself?” he asked, readying his camera. You were still a little shy, so he urged you on: “You have so many photos of me, darling, show me how you get off to them. I know you do, my love.” Blushing, you finally acted, and Seonghwa could not believe it.

Sliding a finger between your slick folds, you wetted it with your own arousal and began to rub slow circles over your sensitive clit, head tilting back.

“Legs a little wider for me,” a flash, “that’s it, well done. What are you thinking of, ma belle?”

“Ah… y-you…” the sinful mumble was electrifying, and one of Seonghwa’s hands drifted towards his bulge, which had grown even larger, starting to become problematic for his concentration.

“What specifically, Y/N?”

“H-how you could take me, right here.”

“Take you? Elaborate, tell me everything. And yes, just like that, beautiful.”

Your hand began to move faster, flicking the nub, while the fingers of your other hand took to producing unimaginable sounds as they curled to stimulate the clit even further and progress to glide into your pussy with ease. A course of flashes and clicks signified that Seonghwa particularly enjoyed this course, so you did not hold back and let yourself moan, whispering his name as your high started to approach.

“How you could- ah! Make me come. In any way- AH, Hwa, I’m close-” beloved fantasies floated before you as you continued your performance.

“You are gorgeous, Y/N, I’ll make you come, not to worry, darling, just one more shot, okay?” he cooed as he continued to palm himself through his trousers, watching you bring yourself to a euphoric ruin.

“I- I am n-not sure I’ll la-ast-” you cried out, the orgasm imminent.

“That’s perfect, Y/N, show me.” His finger hovered over the button, like a panther lying in wait to capture its next kill.

“S-Seonghwa!”

“Yes-”

A flurry of shots surrounded you as you shut your eyes and were hit by a satisfying climax that caused you to sink back into the sofa and left your sex pulsing, hot juices trickling out and coaxing Seonghwa out of his digital hiding. It was virtually impossible for him to contain himself any longer, so with a few quick changes to settings, he set an automatic interval timer, for the camera to continue capturing the intimacy, but now with him in the second starring role.

Not taking his gaze off you, Seonghwa slipped out of his Oxfords, and neatly folded his button up and trousers, while having been reduced to a miniscule tremor due to the never-ending pressure on his trapped member, which had already leaked precum onto his boxers. Another flash, and he was walking towards you, ablaze from how you studied him, so alluringly dishevelled and dedicated to him.

A real life Adonis, a mortal blessing seeking you out and yearning for your caress. His equally well shaped cock twitched as he stood off to one side of you, at an impeccable ninety degrees from the camera to capture his length and salaciousness of the scene. Having recovered from your high, you were enthusiastic to please and dropped to your knees as Seonghwa gave the member a couple of pumps. Crawling forward, you innocently opened your mouth, lolling your tongue out. A perfect picture, you knew it.

“Care to prepare me before I make you feel good, ma belle?” he did not need to ask twice.

As soon as he let his hand fall to his side, you replaced it with your own, and with the other massaged his balls, attentive to every flex of muscle, every groan he held back. Now, that was not acceptable. You wanted to hear this man say your name at least once if he truly held you in his heart. You shot him a quick look, and upon seeing that he had bit his lower lip and he was already hazy, took his tip in your mouth, circling it with your tongue and giving it a couple of light sucks. A gasp promoted your continuation, and you teased his hole while not ceasing to give his base thorough focus.

Shaken, Seonghwa could only manage a low, guttural moan as you moved to take in half of his length, still keeping up the intoxicating patterns with your tongue. He gingerly pushed a lock of hair out of your face, unable to utter anything when you gazed up with curiosity. With that, you took a quick breath, and by pulling yourself forward using Seonghwa’s legs, you took him in until the cock hit the back of your throat and caused tiny tears to well up.

“Ah- Y/N, you- mfph-” nothing had ever sounded better than this you leaned back, with only the tip remaining between your lips, and then slid back down,  speeding up as you listened to Seonghwa’s sinful vocalisations.

Feeling his member harden, you were about to pick up the pace even more, but your endeavour was cut short by Seonghwa placing his palm on your crown, and tapping you with his index finger a couple of times.

“Th-thank you, love, now I want to make you feel good.” A loud pop resounded as you removed yourself, resulting in the man fighting back a shudder. “Ah, but I don’t have-”

“I have the implant, and you don’t have to come inside.”

“Wasn’t planning to, love, I want to paint over you, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

Seonghwa sat on the chaise longue, much as he had done at the very beginning while still clothed, and reached out to take your hand and walk you to him. Only you existed to him, a realisation that turned to fact as he sped up your movements, roaming your body and helping you lower yourself onto his throbbing dick. Prior to giving him the full pleasure, however, you ran the soaked pussy lips, softened by a climax and yearning for more, across it, to coat and lubricate it with your nectar. And finally, you sank onto the member, the dizzying feeling of fullness making your walls clench around it, and Seonghwa’s nails dig into your waist.

He let you remain motionless to get used to him, and to have the camera do its magic, but was ecstatic once you rose again, and began to ride him while lazily rolling your hips. You were now moaning without inhibition, Seonghwa’s name sounding simply right. When you cried out, his cock hitting at just the right spot, he rushed to soothe you by stroking circles over your pelvis, but the concern quickly dissipated as you uttered, much to his delight:

“Seonghwa, this is so-so good…”

“You’re perfect, my love. So perfect for me.” He mumbled back, kissing your shoulder blades.

Only fate could have brought him to you, or you to him. It was as though you had been made for one another, fluid and communicating through exquisite body language. A flash. Another. A priceless collection marking yours and Seonghwa’s evolution into a divine creative partnership. Undefined by standards, understood by inspiration and artistry.

“Mm, love how you fill me up so well, Hwa, please-” the knot in your stomach continued to grow as you grinded on his dick.

“So amazing, my darling, my muse.”

Seonghwa reached over and stimulated your clit while your breathing turned shallower, and you attempted to speed up. The action proved difficult, as with your climax fast approaching, your movements became more disjointed and dysrhythmic. Clearly, they became so uncontrollable, that he decided to take matters into his own hands. Melting into his touch, you followed as he stood up, careful to keep his member inside of you, and told you to bend over, keeping your ass up in the air.

Arranging for the best angle, he checked the camera, and, once confirming that the shot was going to be ideal, inhaled and glided his length into you, progressively picking up the speed until what had been a slow exploration was now him pounding into you, skin on skin, slapping against one another. You let out the uncontainable yelps of pleasure, tuning into a higher and higher pitch until your comments were mere incoherent babble. Thoughts clouded over, you could only focus on Seonghwa and your state on the verge of orgasm.

“AH…ah… Please… Hwa… don’t stop- I’m about to-”

Your yell was interrupted by him increasing the pace to an unprecedented level, accelerating you into an unthinkable crash as you shook with your climax. The way in which you enveloped him, and how you reacted to his demands and touch was becoming too much, and a bead of sweat was threatening to roll down his face as he prayed he would not come while your pussy clenched around him, the walls mercilessly pulsating as he built himself up to his high, which came sooner rather than later, and only just in time did he manage to pull his member out, and watch as strings of cum decorated your lower back and buttocks.

You collapsed on the floor, while Seonghwa fell onto the chaise longue, the back hitting his, and the two of you silently rejoiced in a shared ideal, illuminated by the continuing flashes.

“My love?”

“Mm?” you hummed, listening to Seonghwa stepping around you and shutting off the camera, only to approach you again.

“May I pick you up? Let’s go get cleaned up.” Sleepily, you raised your arms and let him lift you up, first to stand, and next to pick you up bridal style, making you giggle. “Off to the showers we go! Oh, the benefits of having a guest room at work.” He rambled light-heartedly, pecking you on the cheek, grinning, and disappearing into a dark corridor.

For the first time in a while, you felt, as Seonghwa had said, satisfied. Nothing could be more right.

You had insisted that you still needed to go home, even though it was long past midnight. But you did promise that, on that exact morning, you were going to break the news that you were leaving your soon to be ex. Life was looking brighter, and the taxi driver had already called you and Seonghwa a couple, which both of you had actively welcomed.

“I am going to Europe. In two weeks.” The brilliant young man stated as he held your hands in his while standing by the taxi, at the entrance to your apartment building.

“Oh… uhm… where?” you tried to conceal your disappointment, failing miserably.

“Brussels.” The cheeriness in his voice confused you, but as you tried to pry yourself away and mumble a “Bon… voyage?”, he beamed and embraced you.

“Two tickets, darling. You are coming with me. And I won’t accept no for an answer.”

“Then I won’t say no. All the more motivation for me, Hwa.” You snuggled into his trench coat, memorising the aroma so it could help you last the next few hours in that damned apartment.

“Let me know how it goes, okay?” his concern did not fail to make your heart flutter, and you hugged him tighter.

“If you see me at your doorstep in these same clothes, you’ll know it went… supremely well.”

“That’s why you have your good luck collar on.” Seonghwa joked, freeing one arm to poke your leather-covered neck.

“Ha, sure. Well, I’ll be off and see you soon.”

Sharing one final kiss, you departed into what you were looking forward to no longer call your home.

Upon entry, you needed a moment to adjust to the darkness. Assuming Wooyoung was asleep, you decided against entering the bedroom and occupying the sofa. If you were to breakup, it was better to start hyping yourself up early by separating yourself. There was no emotion attached to the walls, to the rooms, to him anymore. You just wanted out. As soon as possible. There was no place for you here, not when Seonghwa was waiting.

You lied down on the couch, exhausted, and what you had assumed to be five minutes of shuteye quickly turned into a deep slumber, recounting the beautiful revelations and your destined happiness. If only the man who was blankly staring at the ceiling, felt the same way. But it was impossible to, after he had spent the entire day lost in memories of you and him, of how you had been before he had gone astray and found temporary fun.

He had prepared an elaborate dinner in an attempt to impress you, only for it to be stuffed into plastic boxes to grow cold and inedible in the refrigerator. Had grown sick with worry over your disappearances and ignorance of his emotional state. And then, the final straw. You, and him, revoltingly enamoured, sharing saliva right under his damn windows. Wooyoung had vowed, today, to change, so who had allowed you to do what he had done? Were you not better than that?

Wooyoung crept out of the bedroom to at least catch a glimpse of you, and there you were a sleeping beauty. He had never seen you smiling in your sleep before. It was because of him, wasn’t it? That bastard, stealing what was not his. Or were you just so ready to give yourself away? Were you not the epitome of loyalty, standing by Wooyoung’s side no matter what? Who gave you the right? No, this could not be. This was wrong on all levels. This was not you, this was an impostor. A possessed version of you, about to do something you would regret. How could he prevent you from leaving, he wondered, toying with the clay-cutting wire in his hands.

[dawndelion-winery]

pspsps this ask was me hehe <3

it's been so long since I've talked to you (or barely anyone on here) but I miss you sm :(( school and life my enemies fr

okay but yes, happy birthday to YOU!!!!! I hope you had a lovely year (if not, I'm glad you pushed through woooo acco strong) Your posts never fail to make me laugh with all the chaos you have going on.

Your denial is unique and you are now the definition of the word, but other than all your whorish activity (go you), you're a hilarious and fun person to be around. Also very talented but I already said that...and I'll say it again cause you are crazy with your characterization and all that like what is your power and who did you sell your soul to hm? answers now /j

I'm very glad I got to meet you though <33 very nice and chaotic person and there is not one interaction I regret having <3 I hope your day was well and I wish the same for days forward (ready to throw hands at those who disagree)

Remember to take good care of yourself. Drink lots of water and eat your food cause it's very good for you and you need it (throws water at you) also remember to get some rest whenever you can because a foggy brain is not the fun brain (and sleep is important too)

and lucluc loves you lots, he kisses you morning and has a whole day planned for your birthday. So many kisses given by him!! He loves.

Childe spoils you endlessly....might as well be your engagement day cause he can and probably will go that far. He makes you your favorite breakfast and dresses up for the fancy occasion cause he knows you love it (and he gives you more smooches cause this man cannot keep his hands to himself)

- a tired Tired

TIRED OMG IT'S BEEN SO LONG, YOU LIVE HCJDIE MWAH MWAH<33333 your school homophobic fr let us be tgtr smh

I'm secretly one of Hoyo's writers /j

Bestie you always have the best prompts and brainrots Tired fr the MVP of genshinblr<33 I missed you smmmm 😭😭😭

[nekomamiiz]

don’t stop

kuroo x fem!reader

wc: 8.2k

warnings: 18+, slow burn, dubcon, time-skip spoilers, coworkers to lovers, bratty-switch reader, soft-dom kuroo, lots of teasing, alcohol consumption, club setting, size kink, public sex, bathroom sex, mirror sex, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), p*ssy taps, panty stealing, more teasing, hand job, praise, some choking, dacryphilia, overstim, spanking, some breeding, creampie, cum play/eating, not edited, no beta (lmk if i missed any <3)

a/n: helloooo this fic took forever. i’ve been so busy this month but i want to thank @bokutoism for sending me the song and ask that inspired this entire piece and a huge thank you to @touyas-peach i would not be able to get past my writers block without your help,, ilysm !! i hope you all enjoy and remember that reblogs and feedback are always appreciated <333 mwah !!

It had initially started as friendly office banter. Knowing each other’s coffee order was the extent of your relationship with the wealthy promoter.

Of course, Kuroo is super sneaky. He made it his mission to get you to smile every time he looked your way, and you couldn’t help but get roped into his charm.

Every morning began with him passing by your desk, dropping off your coffee, and sparking light conversation. When you started smiling at him the same way he would, though, he couldn’t get you off his mind.

He recalls countless nights spent wishing he had your number to take you out or simply just to talk about nothing.

Not to mention all of the times he has fantasized about your pretty face, covered in his cum or simply twisted in complete pleasure. How you would feel wrapped around his cock as he pounds you into the mattress. What you sound like when he finally gets you to that blissful state — blabbering his name and shaking beneath him.

His mind has run entirely wild with dreams of you, and it looks like they will all come true for him soon.

It’s approaching the end of volleyball season, and the JVA is holding a party to celebrate another successful year of deals and partnerships. Kuroo is overjoyed when he finds out all employees are welcome to join and quickly makes his way to you at the front desk.

Kuroo practically skips towards you with that damn smirk on his face. Once he reaches your desk, he taps on it a few times with his fingers while peaking over to take a look at your outfit; it’s modest but shows off your curves in an almost sinful way.

“So, did you hear about the club thing going on?” he asks, looking directly at your lips, waiting for you to respond.

“Yeah. Don’t tell me they’re allowing you in the club,” you say, teasing him.

“Heh, I know, right? They just let any tall, good-looking dude walk in these days,” he says jokingly.

He chuckles so deep through his chest you almost feel the vibration from where you sit. Under the desk, you squeeze your thighs together and hope he doesn’t see the adjustment.

Raising a brow, you give him a charming smile. “I was thinking more along the lines of little boys playing where they don’t belong.”

While you go through several bad ideas in your head, Kuroo leans in closer over the desk, his face hovering just above yours.

“I do have kind of a reputation for making girls scream, ya know.”

He says this with so much confidence, and you know it's true. It’s meant to be a joke, but you pick up on what he truly means. He wants to make you scream.

“Is that right?” you ask. “Last I heard, you had every girl running in the opposite direction.”

Kuroo licks his lips, cocking his head to the side as he sucks in air through his teeth. He chuckles softly before locking eyes with you again.

“Well, that’s because I'm only interested in this really hot chick who works at the front desk,” he teases once more.

“Oh god, ‘really hot chick’?” you raise a brow, laughing. “What would she think if she knew you talked about her like that?” you roll your eyes in mock annoyance.

“Hmm,” he looks at the ceiling, pretending to look very hard for his response. “Between you and me,” he leans in closer, whispering.

“She looks like the kind of girl who doesn't mind being talked down to a little.”

You don't miss the soft purr in his voice and how his eyes stay glued to your lips, which have now formed that sideways smirk he always wears so well.

But you do it better, daring him to get closer, to talk a little dirtier.

“You think so, huh?” you say, grabbing a pen and twirling it between your fingers. “She actually seems like the type to have men on their knees,” the smirk never leaving your face.

Kuroo pushes himself off your desk, standing up straight while adjusting his tie. He glances down to your chest, admiring the swell of your breasts through your blouse. When he’s finished ogling, he looks into your eyes, smiling once again.

“She sounds like a lot of fun if that’s the case,” he easily shrugs off what you said. Getting ready to turn around and head back to his office, he stops a few feet from you, looking over his shoulder.

“I'll see you at the club, pretty kitty.”

With that, he steps inside the elevator, heading back up to his office and leaving you to sit with all of the tension from your conversation.

And a very wet pair of panties.

It’s so hard trying to maintain a professional relationship with him. Everything he says has some hidden meaning, and the innuendos never go unnoticed. The wonderful thing about being the receptionist is that you don’t work with him every day, or on the same floor. So is there any risk involved here?

The night of the party is finally here, and you invited a friend over to help get ready. It wasn’t a serious event, but it would be the first time you’ll be seeing Kuroo outside of the office, so the nerves have begun to settle in.

While you sat at the vanity, applying the final touches to your makeup, your friend walked out of the closet with two hangers.

Rei has been your friend for as long as you can remember, and she was the first to know about Kuroo’s flirty behavior. She’s heard so much about him and can see how you constantly try to push back the nasty thoughts circling your mind.

Of course, you do talk about him every time she comes over.

“I think this black one is nice,” she holds up the thin, lacy dress. “But didn’t you say his favorite color is red?”

The red number she holds out to you is even shorter than the one she first suggested. It hugs your curves perfectly with a nice slit on the thigh, and it’s been sitting in your closet just begging to be taken out for a night.

“I don’t know if it's his favorite color,” you sigh. “He always has red ties on, but I think it was his team color in high school, too.”

Rei chuckles and hands you the dress in question.

“You do know a lot about him. Ya sure you’re not in love with the man?” she insists.

“Please,” you scoff. “He just likes to talk my ear off.”

“You seem to do a lot of listening, babe.”

She laughs off the death glare you send her, finding her way back into the closet in search of the perfect pair of heels. You can hear her rummaging through boxes of shoes, commenting on a pair she may have to steal from you one day.

“Hey, these are cute!” Rei shouts from inside.

She walks out holding a pair of black heels with leather straps that wrap around the ankles. They are the perfect size heel for dancing and just the right amount of seductiveness.

Your eyes light up, eager to try on the complete outfit and show yourself off to your best friend.

“You don’t think it’s too sexy, right?” you ask, giving a spin for her to see the whole thing.

Rei smiles at you playfully, giving a light tap on your bottom. “If you weren’t so desperate for him, I’d keep you all to myself,” she says, pushing you back into the bathroom to finish up.

When you finished getting ready, Rei ordered the ride service to pick you up and take you to the club. It wasn’t a large venue, but it was the perfect size for a company party. Just the right atmosphere to have a great time.

Before the car pulled up to the club, your phone pinged with a message — it was from Rei.

Rei : Make sure he works for it a little, okay?

You couldn't help but chuckle at your phone, putting it back in your purse, and exiting the car. You thank your driver from the window and walk up the stairs to the entrance, taking in the sight of the lights on the front of the building.

The bouncer lets you in with a small nod which you return back to him, smiling.

The inside of the club is laid back; a large couch stretches the entire sidewall until it reaches the back. On the opposite wall is the bar with stairs that lead to an upper balcony that hosts the DJ’s booth. The whole vibe felt like something out of a sixties movie.

Colorful swirls on the walls, beaded curtains that lead to the VIP areas; anyone can get inside because the entire club belongs to the company for the night. The back wall is decorated with CD’s that reflect small rainbows when the colored light hits them.

All the design choices make the inside feel like you are experiencing a really good trip. And it sets the mood for the type of night you're going to have.

The further you walk inside, the easier it is to make out the bodies of your co-workers. All huddled together in small groups with drinks in their hands.

You see Kuroo standing against the bar with a drink in his hand — and that stupid, sexy smirk on his face. It’s almost like he can sense your proximity because his eyes land on yours the second you approach him.

He's wearing a black button-up shirt with his sleeves cuffed to his forearms. The top three buttons of his shirt are undone, and you can see the small expanse of firm skin on his chest, just  begging to be kissed and scratched at.

His shirt is tucked into his jeans, emphasizing the shape of his slender waist. He's lean and built, and it's something that his suits have been hiding this entire time. Maybe you'll be able to see more soon.

As you approach, you give him one more look, raking your eyes up and down his long body. You smirk when you stop at his abdomen, then focus your eyes on his tanned chest.

“You clean up nice. For a man as dirty as you, that is,” you say, leaning over the counter.

You arch your back a little allowing him the perfect view of your dress and the shape of your ass. If it weren't for the music booming in the background, you would be able to hear the small gasp he makes as you do so.

“Have you seen yourself?” his eyes go wide when he takes in your entire outfit. Stopping at the straps of leather adorning your ankles, wetting his lips with his tongue, almost purring. “You look delicious.”

“Oh? Are you gonna eat me up?” you ask him, sitting in a chair and crossing your legs.

You see him lean into you, putting his hand on the counter, ridiculously close to yours. You feel his breath on your ear before you can register that he’s trying to tell you something.

“Keep it up, and I’ll do way more than that, pretty girl,” he says in a low voice, making you squeeze your thighs together.

His breath is hot on your ear. It sends shivers throughout your body, making the heat between your legs unbearable and the air thick with desire.

The thought of all the teasing and sneaky glances finally coming to a head sits in the back of both your minds. Finally, the two of you will get what you want. A taste of the other, for just a night. Maybe.

“Are you going to get me a drink, or are you just gonna flirt all night?” you ask sassily. It’s not rude, but he knows you’re only teasing him.

“You seem like a classy girl. What’s your drink of choice?” He waves down the bartender, getting his attention before turning to you once more. “I’m guessing dark liquor isn’t your thing.”

The man approaches the two of you, asking what you’d like — Kuroo asks for vodka on ice and you, a dry martini.

“Classy girl. I knew it,” he chirps from beside you, thanking the bartender as he makes your drinks.

“Vodka on the rocks is pretty basic, though. Where’s the excitement, Kuroo?” you playfully nudge his arm, smirking right back at him.

“If I told you, you might not like the answer,” he cocks his head to the side, acting embarrassed as he scratches the back of his neck.

“Go ahead. Try me,” you challenge him, interested in what he has to say.

“Aww, princess, that would ruin all the fun I have planned.”

The young man comes back to you both with your respective drinks in hand, handing them to you and continuing on with the rest of his customers.

“Says the fun police himself,” you roll your eyes taking a sip of your drink.

Goosebumps spread all over your body when the alcohol hits your tongue, burning down your throat as it warms you from the inside—making that overwhelming heat between your thighs more intense than before.

The two of you continue to chatter about nothing in particular. Mainly joking about the new haircut your boss is sporting but continuing to laugh alongside each other as the bass booms around you.

You hear the beginnings of a song you know very well. It’s one you’ve danced to many times before in the comforts of your living room. Kuroo can see that your body is swaying along with the rhythm and reaches a hand out to you.

“This your favorite song?” he asks as you grab his hand, pulling him to the dancefloor.

“Is it that obvious?” you laugh him off, beginning to sway with the beat.

Your hips sway back and forth. You roll your body to the beat, keeping up with the changes in tempo, running your hands down your body, and spinning around. You put on the biggest show, all for him.

Kuroo is right behind you, watching you move to the music in complete awe. His eyes are glued to your hips, focused on your movements as he sways with you—his large body pressing into yours so close that you can feel every breath he takes.

“Are you putting on a show?” he grips your hips a little tighter, pressing you into him a little closer.

You turn your head slightly so he can see the cheeky grin on your face. “Depends on if the right person is looking,” you say breathily.

His body shifts behind you, pressing his lips into the side of your head as he grinds his hips into your ass. Letting you feel the entire shape of his cock in his jeans. He’s hard already, and you only provoke him further.

“Trust me, baby girl, he’s looking,” he whispers against your ears, his words vibrating through your body like they always do.

But teasing him is so much fun, and you love getting a rise out of him.

“Who said it’s a man’s attention I want?” you chuckle softly.

Your body moves by itself now, no longer relying on Kuroo’s hands to lead you. As you’re about to turn around to face him, he stops you. He wraps one strong arm around you, pressing his palm flat against your tummy, holding you closer to him.

“And who said you can make cute jokes like that?” his lips tickle the side of your ear.

You can feel him grazing your skin, sucking your earlobe between his teeth, and humming softly.

He feels your hips stutter, pressing your ass against him as you whimper softly from the shape of him.

“Oh, what’s that, pretty girl?” He asks, leaning down further to get a better view of your face.

You grind against him harder this time, getting on the tips of your toes so you can feel his large hand dig into your skin a little rougher.

“Are you going to fuck me tonight or not?” You huff impatiently.

Kuroo puts both hands on your hips, holding you against him as he swells in his jeans. He chuckles in your ear, almost devilish in tone.

“I’ll fuck you right now if that’s what you really want.”

He grinds his dick against you harder, waiting for you to respond. Your mind is hazy from just his hands on you, and he made it so easy to give in.

“I want you,” you say breathily.

Kuroo growls when he hears you keen softly. His cock is throbbing in his jeans, and he needs to be inside of you faster than it would take to call a cab or ride service.

“I don't think I can wait,” he whispers against your ear. His lips are ghosting softly over your skin, trailing down the side of your neck.

His hands haven't stopped exploring your body. Memorizing the shape as if he would never get this chance again. You both know he will, but the accumulating tension over the last few months and the need for secrecy because of work policy makes it all the more exciting.

You're quick to grab hold of his hands as they are about to graze the skin of your thighs. You squeeze them softly and moan from how much bigger his hands are compared to yours.

“There’s a bathroom here, right?” you sigh.

Kuroo scans the room, squinting to find a sign for a restroom, and finally sees the neon arrow pointing in the direction you need.

“All the way in the back, I think,” he groans softly against your jaw.

You move ahead of him, still holding his hand, and stealing glances behind you. He has that same smirk on his face, but his lips are slightly red from being tugged between his teeth, and a light blush covers his cheeks from the alcohol.

The two of you reach the back of the club and find that one private restroom is vacant.

“Did you plan this?” you ask him, laughing at the odds of having the nicest bathroom for you both to defile completely.

“I wish I did,” he says, almost out of breath.

Kuroo grabs hold of your hips, rubbing his thumbs against your skin. You feel him squeeze you softly, feel the fabric bunch between his fingers. He's looking down at you with a hungry smirk and glossy eyes, admiring the way the dress hugs your body so perfectly.

“Red is your color,” he purrs. His hands move up your sides, just barely grazing the swell of your breasts as he brings them up to your neck.

Finally, he grabs your face in his hands. “Remind me of that later on, okay,” he whispers.

You have no time to respond before his lips are on yours, his tongue slipping against yours from the gasp you let out. Kuroo’s hands find your waist again, this time sliding behind you to grab a handful of your ass. He groans when he gives it a soft squeeze, feeling the flesh squish between his long fingers.

“Fuck—” you pull away to take in his expression.

His eyes have a more decadent gold hue to them in this light; darker from the lust and alcohol running through his veins, and his skin is burning with desire. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

“I want you so fucking bad,” you say, tangling your fingers in his messy hair tugging it softly.

“You have no idea,” he huffs, grabbing under your thighs and lifting you up.

You wrap your legs around his waist, groaning when he seats you on the counter typically meant for touch-ups. There's a large mirror behind and in front of you, providing the perfect view of Kuroo’s large body towering over yours.

His hair is a mess from your grabby hands. His shirt is unbuttoned and wrinkled, some fabric hanging out of his jeans. His broad chest is all you can see as you are brought to the edge of the counter, your dress slipping up your thighs.

Kuroo is quick to put his hands on your legs, spreading them open so he can slot himself between them. He squeezes and rubs your skin until he can hear you shudder from his nails scraping softly against your skin.

“Sensitive little thing aren't you,” he rasps.

His mouth inches closer to your neck, laving his tongue along the column of your throat before nipping at your jaw and sucking your skin softly, causing a sweet cry to fall from your lips.

“Stop teasing me, Kuroo,” you say desperately as your hands try to find the waistband of his jeans. “We’ve had plenty of foreplay.”

You grip the leather of his belt, pulling him in closer and toying with the buckle a little. You hear him chuckle in your ear again and the low growl he makes when you squeeze your thighs around him.

“You’re cute when you beg,” he says, trailing his kisses down your collarbone.

He twists the straps of your dress between his fingers before slipping them down your shoulder, toying with the idea of completely ripping the material off your body. He sees the way your chest rises and falls from your heavy breathing, and he can’t help but smile at how needy you are for him.

He kisses the top of each breast through the dress, taking in your sweet scent with a deep inhale before looking up at you once more.

“I thought you were gonna put me on my knees. What happened to all that fire?” He asks, kneeling slightly to kiss the top of each of your thighs.

He traces the smooth skin of your legs, constantly squeezing at whatever pliable flesh he can before he reaches the leather straps of your heels. He chuckles softly, tapping your ankles with the pads of his fingers.

“I’ve been thinking about it all week, honestly,” he sighs, looking up at you.

One of Kuroo’s hands is supporting his weight against the counter as he leans down to pepper kisses on your shoulder, tasting the salty sweetness of your skin as he does so. You can feel his lips inching closer to your core; his other hand is beginning to move up your leg, slipping under your dress and just barely grazing the fabric of your panties.

You look at him through your lashes, smiling sweetly before speaking in a low voice.

“I still can,” you say, your tone laced with desperation.

Kuroo smirks at you before bringing his hand down your leg, stopping at your calf.

“You sure about that, baby,” he breathes out, chuckling. “How so?”

You cock your head to the side, grinding your other heel into the side of his thigh, feeling him shift because of it. He still has one hand on your left leg, but your other is free to trail the side of his body.

His stance makes it easy to bring your heel on his shoulder, digging into his collarbone. You lean back on the sink letting your legs spread so he can get face to face with the pretty you have covering the part he wants most.

“Is this what you wanted?” you ask him with that same wide smile and hazy look on your face.

You push him further to the ground until you hear the soft thud of his knees hitting the floor.

You can only hear him moan a small fuck before leaning in, hoping to kiss your inner thigh, but you stop him, grabbing onto his hair and pulling him back.

“Where are your manners, Kuroo?” you tease him. “Good boys, say please,” you say, giggling proudly.

The sound that comes out of his throat is animalistic, rough, and loud as he takes hold of each of your thighs. He is face to face with the pretty lace set you have underneath the dress, and you spread your legs a little wider. You still have a grip on his roots, pulling him in little by little.

He looks up at you with glowing eyes, occasionally flicking down to catch a glimpse of the growing wet spot on your panties.

“Please,” he rasps, turning his head to the side to graze his lips on your calf.

You shiver from the contact. His lips are hot and wet against your skin; his touch is feather soft as he breathes even heavier against you, hotter.

“Please what, Kuroo?” you ask, pulling him closer then further away from you. He takes a deep breath. Finally, he presses his lips to your skin, scraping his teeth gently against your calf, before licking a stripe up to your thigh.

He looks up at you with squinted eyes, his large hands starting to grab hold of your hips — just resting there, not exactly pulling you closer.

“Please, let me taste you,” he says between gritted teeth. He doesn’t stop taking in the sweet scent of your skin. Heady and warm between your legs.

You moan in response to his behavior, practically pussy drunk on you when he hasn’t even had a taste yet. You rake your fingers through his hair once more with a smile on your face, pulling him closer to your core.

“I told you little boys shouldn’t play where they don’t belong,” you laugh cutely.

Kuroo takes the fabric of your dress between his fingers, lifting it over your thighs and bunching it over your hips. He makes quick work of pulling your panties down slightly. One of your legs is still resting over his shoulder; the other is gripped in his strong hand, keeping your legs spread wide for him.

“And I thought I said to be careful with your cute little jokes,” he chuckles, deep and gritty.

He grabs the flesh of your ass, squeezing hard then pulling you to the edge of the counter. Your wet pussy is the only thing in his sight, and he's been waiting to get a taste for months. You can hear him growl before kissing your inner thigh one more time, so close to your slit, teasing you some more.

“Didn't you say it seemed like it could be fun,” you giggle, looking down at him with your lip tucked between your teeth, breathing heavily.

He licks his lips before pressing a soft kiss to your folds, taking in the sweet scent of your pussy and humming against your thigh. He looks at you with his dark, gold eyes, chuckling softly before bringing a hand between your legs.

He uses two of his long fingers to spread your pussy lips, already slick with arousal. Your clit begs for attention as he massages between your folds. At the same time, his other hand grips your ass, squeezing your hips and scratching the skin softly.

“I don’t think you realize who’s really in charge here, princess,” he hums again.

His fingers are now teasing your entrance, trailing your slick up to your clit where he gives it a light tap, causing you to yelp from the contact.

“Oh, you are pretty sensitive, baby. Your cute little cunt is throbbing around nothin’ right now,” he teases you in the same tone of voice as you did earlier. He’s started circling your clit, using his thumb to pinch softly, then rolling it between his fingers.

“Fuck,” you keen, hunching over, placing a hand on his shoulder for balance. You look him in the eyes, and he can see the desperate furrow of your brow. “Want you, please,” you beg him.

Kuroo wastes no time to put both of his hands on your waist, pulling you off the edge of the counter and closer to his face. He spreads your legs further, using his tongue to swirl between your folds, flicking your clit in the process. You can feel his tongue gently pushing inside of you, barely teasing your hole as he swipes it side to side.

The sounds he is making are absolutely obscene. Slurping up every drop of slick you have to offer him, and you’re practically dripping down his chin already. His moans are what get to you, though. They’re breathy and deep, like he’s been deprived of this moment for too long.

You can see he’s enjoying himself; his eyes are closed as he tongue fucks you, savoring the flavor between your legs like a starved man.

Kuroo’s hands begin to wander again, one on the side of your leg and the other trailing up your tummy, through the valley of your breast, finally resting it on your neck.

“Pussy tastes so fuckin’ sweet,” he groans, pulling away.

His eyes flick up to you, and he smirks before raising his hand up to your neck. He tickles the sides of your neck with his fingers, where he presses down softly, not yet choking you. He has a wide smile on his face as he licks his lips, sweeping up the slick dripping down his chin back into his mouth.

You throw your head back at his words, grinding your hips against his face, feeling his nose nudge your sensitive bud. You arch your back when he sucks on your clit with more pressure than before, pulling his hair to go deeper into your pussy.

“Fuck, it feels good,” you say breathily.

Kuroo pulls away to admire the fucked out expression on your face. His hand is still resting loosely around your neck. He places one kiss on your pussy and one on your thigh before he completely pulls your panties down and off your legs; you don’t miss how he stuffs them in his pocket from the reflection in the mirror behind you.

He moves his body up and off the ground, shadowing over you at his full height. The hand on your neck sweeps across your collarbone before pulling the top of your dress down, exposing your tits.

He takes one of your breasts in his hand, squeezing softly then pinching your nipple. It pebbles beneath his touch, and you can’t help but tremble from the added stimulation.

“Look at this cute body,” he says just above a whisper. He kisses your cheek and down to your neck before pulling away to look at you one more time. “So pretty,” he whispers.

You look at him with glossy eyes, grinding your hips against his jeans. You feel his cock already ridiculously hard, just aching for some relief.

“Want you to fuck me,” you beg him.

Your fingers mess with the button of his jeans, pulling his belt off and throwing it to the floor in the process. Finally, you get his pants down his hips, where you can see the waistband of his boxers and the massive shape of his dick.

You are quick to take him in your hand, squeezing softly before pulling the fabric down. Kuroo groans from the feeling of your hand squeezing him through the cotton. He pulls you in by the face for another kiss — this one with more tongue, needier than before, and the taste of you still lingers in his mouth.

As you kiss him, you look down to catch a glimpse of his cock. He’s big. Not too long and just the perfect thickness. The tip is flushed pink with a bead of precum already dripping down his shaft. You swipe your thumb gently over the head of his cock and massage the pre around, teasing the tip just enough to make him twitch.

Kuroo gasps and moans from your touch as you bring your hand further down, trailing your fingertips down the vein on the underside of him. He bucks into you when you grasp his balls, giving them a soft squeeze and hearing him groan deeply because of it.

“Do you want me inside of you, pretty girl?” he asks.

Your hand slides up and down his thick shaft as he looks down at you with a grin on his face. He moves you closer, grabbing you by the thighs and hips, lining you up with his dick. You continue your gentle movement on his length, sliding up and down, feeling every ridge and curve on your palm. The tip of his cock taps against your clit as you are brought to the edge of the counter

You lay your hand flat on the top of his shaft, letting him rut against your folds, using your slick to lube up his cock. You both moan in unison at the sensation, and you toss your head back in frustration. You take his cock in your hand and line him up with your entrance, letting him ease inside of you slowly.

“Fuck yes,” you gasp at the feeling of him filling you up.

Kuroo hums in satisfaction as he stretches out your tiny little hole. He has imagined how your pussy would feel many times; what he is feeling right now is infinitely better than his mind could ever come up with, though.

“You’re so fucking tight, holy shit,” he says through his teeth. His hands are on your hips, holding you steady as you get used to his size, and he can already see the faraway look in your eyes.

He’s only halfway inside of you.

You wrap your arms and legs around him tighter; his warm chest against yours makes you shake in burning pleasure as he bottoms out inside you. The feeling of being so full is overwhelming, and you both moan when you finally adjust to his size.

Kuroo’s hands grip the bottom of your thighs, where he lifts them to get a better fit inside of your pussy. He doesn’t move, but the change in angle makes the tip of his cock rub against that sensitive spot inside you, causing you to clench around him. You squeal and kick in his hold from the sheer size of him filling you up.

“‘S too big,”  you say, tossing your head back again. “Feels so good, oh my god.”

He places a kiss on your neck, sucking the skin softly, then swiping his tongue across your throat where he hums against you. The feeling goes straight to your head, and you whimper his name when he brings a hand to your jaw, squishing your cheeks with his thick fingers that are still wet with your slick.

“Been dreaming about this pussy for so long,” he says. His voice is thick with arousal, and his words are slightly slurred too. He holds your face in his hands harder, making sure you’re looking into his eyes when he moans and then speaks again.

“So fucking beautiful.”

His hips rut against you softly, basking in the feeling of your warm walls sucking him in and soaking his cock down to the base. Every time you whimper, you pulse around him, and he moves inside of you a little faster. He fills you to the brim, making you pant his name.

“Fuck me harder,” you say desperately, bringing your hands to his hips, digging your nails into his skin. “Please.”

He only lets go of your jaw, trailing his hands down your sides before grabbing hold of your hips. He pulls back, letting the tip of his cock rest inside of you as one hand makes its way to your folds. You can feel his thumb barely graze your clit when he thrusts back in, picking up a pace that has you clawing into his skin to stay closer to him.

“This what you wanted, pretty girl?” he places his forehead on yours; his thumb is now making small circles on your clit. “You want me to fuck you like this, make you cream on my cock,” the squelch between your legs only gets louder as he continues to toy with your swollen nub.

You can barely wrap your legs around his waist with the pace he has set, his hips smacking so rough against you that you’re beginning to lose your position on the counter. You can only focus on him and the feeling of his cock battering your insides. Your lips stay tucked between your teeth as you feel that tightening in your core — Kuroo can feel it too.

“Y-yeah — oh my god — gonna cum,” you say breathlessly, tucking your head into his shoulder, admiring the way he’s fucking you in the mirror. His ass jiggles every time he pumps his cock inside you, and his whole body stalls when you clench around him; the sight is that good.

“Fuck, I can feel you, so fuckin’ tight,” he groans into the side of your head. Kuroo keeps one hand between your legs, toying with your clit while he brings the other up to the back of your head. He pulls you away from his neck so he can see you fall apart on his cock.

Your eyes are glossy, and your brows are cinched from the feeling of him hitting your g spot every time he moves. He’s so big that the stretch is still almost unbearable, but you’re so close to the edge that it all feels so good.

“Go ahead and cum, baby,” he whispers against your lips before kissing you roughly.

You shake in his grasp, but he holds you steady as your first orgasm washes over you. Your moans flow through him as you come down, and he breathes heavily against your lips in response. He keeps his cock deep inside your pussy while you flutter around him, leaving him breathless at how much tighter you could get, and he pulls away from the kiss to look down at where the two of you are connected.

He finally gives you a moment to breathe, and you wrap your legs around him, keeping him close to you. You’re still whimpering his name when you finally come down, looking at him, then his heaving chest.

There’s a thin layer of sweat on his chest that you can barely make out in the dim light of the bathroom, and you giggle when you look down to see his thumb still tracing idle circles against your clit.

“‘m gonna make a mess if you keep doing that,” you say shakily, jolting in his grasp.

Kuroo chuckles before pulling out of you; his hand stays in place, and he loves the way your hips twitch under his touch

“And if that’s exactly what I want,” he asks you.

“Are you gonna give it to me?” you bite back.

Both of his hands find your waist; he rubs them down your sides before pulling you off of the counter and back onto the ground. The grip he has on your hips gets tighter while he holds you steady on your feet.

“You want it, baby,” he continues under his breath, looking down at you with that same hungry look in his eyes. “Want me to make a mess out of this perfect little pussy?” he asks.

The front of your body rubs against him, his cock rests heavily against your stomach and he grinds against you — slowly. He takes one of your hands in his while the other stays resting on your hips, rubbing soothing circles on your heated skin.

You only nod your head, whispering a response. “Please,” you say. “I want it.”

Kuroo chuckles, low and gravely as he moves his hand from your hip to your ass. He gives it a squeeze before pulling away and landing a light smack — just enough to make you twitch. You surprise him with the whine you let out, though; soft and airy like he’d always imagined if he ever had you like this.

He moans a quiet fuck under his breath before kissing you, devouring your pleas, and gasps for more. “Turn around,” he says, taking the flesh of your ass in his hand once more.

“Wanna see how sexy you look when I bend you over.”

You turn around, arching your spine. You rub your pussy against his leaking cock, swaying your hips back and forth just like you did on the dancefloor. You can feel the tip prodding at your entrance and just barely slipping inside from how wet you still are. The hand he was holding onto is now pressed behind your back, the other coming around you.

Kuroo lifts your dress some more, letting the pads of his fingers tickle the skin on your stomach, slowly trailing down to your cunt where you throb around the head of his cock, anticipating his touch on your clit.

“You’re still so fuckin’ tight,” he hisses through his teeth.

He's slowly inching his way inside, using your hand to pull you back onto his length.

Once he gets about halfway, he feels you freeze up and can see the slight shake of your thighs. He looks at the mirror in front of you and sees that you have your eyes squeezed shut and your bottom lip between your teeth. You let out a few puffs of air before crying out for him to please move, but he doesn't. Not yet.

“I'm not even all the way in, and you came just like that,” he asks. The hand on your hip smoothes over your ass, kneading the soft skin between his thick fingers. “You're so pretty when you cum for me,” he finishes, landing another smack as you toss your head back to try and look at him.

His eyes land on yours, and he groans at your already fucked out expression. There’s sweat on your brow, small tears in your eyes, and your slick keeps dripping between your thighs and down his balls, making him shiver.

“Wanna make a mess for you, Tetsurou,” you say so sweetly, pushing back against him. Desperately trying to get him to fuck you the way you want. “Please,” you cry out, turning your head slightly to look back at him.

Kuroo pulls you by the hips, flush against his as he moves slowly, hitting that sweet spot every time — making you extra sensitive, shaking even more than before.

At first, he begins with a few soft rolls of his hips. Feeling every squeeze your tight pussy gives, making him slur his words every time he wants to tell you something, but he just groans and growls through it.

“Fuck, you feel fucking amazing,” he says as he begins to pick up the pace.

The light tap of his balls against your clit slowly turns into wet slaps, making you pull away from him because it was all too much. Kuroo takes offense to that and grabs your face in his hands, making you look back at him again.

“C’mon, pretty girl. You wanted me to fuck you like this, didn’t you,” he says, squeezing your cheeks with his hand, moving it lower to grab onto your jaw. He leans forward, letting his lips hover above your ear, and he whispers softly against your skin.

“Let me hear you, baby,” he says.

The swift smack of his hips against your ass has now turned into full-on thrusts, and you whimper his name as he gets you closer to that edge. So fucking close. You put one hand on the mirror in front of you to steady yourself from the force of his thrusts, pushing back onto him to feel him deeper, if at all possible.

“Kuroo,” you choke out, almost out of breath. “Don't stop, please,” you beg, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Little ah ah ah’s fall from your lips like the sweetest sin, and Kuroo leans over you to drink in your beautiful cries for more.

His hand finds its way around your throat and just stays there, relaxed, holding you up as he continues to pound into you.

The squelch between your legs has begun to echo throughout the small bathroom. Your moans together bounce off the corners of the room and right back to your ears, making the two of you shiver from how in sync the pleasure feels.

The hand on your hips moves, snaking in front of you, lifting your dress to gain access to your clit. You feel him trace your lower tummy, teasing you with how close his hands are to where you want them. He’s breathing heavily onto your ear again, and you can tell he's getting close, his thrusts losing their previous rhythm.

“Oh, you're such a good girl. I can feel you getting close for me, so fucking tight,” he groans.

He finally starts tracing circles on your clit while fucking his cock deeper inside you. You can only hear his skin slapping against yours, and the small oh fuck he lets out when he does. Your pussy is squeezing around him uncontrollably, sucking him in so he can spill his seed as deep inside you as possible.

“I’m your good girl,” you say, barely cracking your eyes to get a good look in the mirror and stare back at him. “I wanna cum for you, please.”

Kuroo swiped his fingers from side to side, letting the feeling go straight to your head. You keen and cry out that it all feels too good. “‘M gonna cum, Tetsurou,” you say as your thighs begin to shake.

You place both hands on the counter, straightening your posture and letting your back lean against his chest. He holds you upright by the neck, cupping your pussy with the other hand as he continues to work your swollen clit. You can feel him throbbing, just waiting to empty himself inside of you.

Both of your eyes lock in the reflection, and he can’t help but take in how beautiful you are — cumming on his cock with a loopy smile on your face and your red dress a sweaty, wrinkled mess. He delivers a few more sharp thrusts before he reaches his end as well, releasing thick ropes of cum inside of you. He watches you freeze and tremble in his hold, letting this orgasm settle into your body more intensely than the others before.

The arm around your body stays in its place, rubbing your clit as you come down from your high. The hand on your neck trails down your spine, landing on your hips, causing you to squirm from his soft touch. You haven’t stopped whimpering and moaning his name; your mind is still so lost in the world of pleasure that you don’t even notice when he pulls out of you.

All you can feel is his cum dripping out of you and down your thighs.

He trails his fingers down to your entrance, where he swipes his fingers through your slit, collecting any cum that’s spilled out of you.

“So perfect,” he says as he brings his hand up, tiny drops of cum falling from his fingers and onto the counter. “Open up, princess,” he says, looking at you with a sweet expression in the mirror.

You willingly open your mouth for him. Letting his fingers rest heavily on your tongue, the taste of his and your cum spreads on your palate, invading your senses as you take a deep breath of the heady scent that lingers on his hand. You can only hum in pure satisfaction.

His fingers explore your mouth for a while, letting them stay warm on your tongue, waiting until you lick and suck off all the cum before slipping them out. He can see the tired look in your eyes and can’t help but melt at how soft you look. So perfect, all for him.

Kuroo lets his lips rest on the side of your head, where he kisses you softly before taking in the sweet scent of the perfume you used earlier, it’s faint now, but he recognizes that scent from anywhere because it belongs to you.

“You did so good for me, baby,” he says softly into the side of your head, placing more kisses on your temples. “Such a good girl.”

The smile you give him, as well as the soft wiggle of your hips, makes him chuckle at how playful you still are. The bratty girl he saw at the beginning of the night is now long gone since he fucked some sense into you.

“Want more, Tetsurou,” you say, leaning your head back onto his chest, looking up into his golden-brown eyes. “I want you.”

He can only smile down at you, stealing glances at your overstimulated body through the mirror as he fixes the straps of your dress. He grabs a few napkins from the counter to clean up the slick dripping down your thighs, then adjusts the remainder of your dress to get you ready to walk out.

He laughs, deep and low, with a sincere smile on his face. “How about I take you home, and you can have me as many times as you want,” he says.

Kuroo has his pants buttoned and his belt halfway on by the time you notice how messy his shirt still is. Wrinkled and stained with his sweat and a few buttons are also out of place, but he’s still the same way too handsome and way too cocky Kuroo Tetsurou.

It’s a wonder the two of you made it out of the club without anyone from the HR department spotting you. With the way the weekend went, walking into work on Monday would be very interesting.

taglist : @bobabybo @cyancherub @katonshoko @kisseswithkai @eikatslut @nobayanii @sunascumdoll @a-shy-blueberry @vanilleswtmacaron

[sabrondabrainrot]

eeeEEEE EEEHEE Making Friday the 13th special!!!

You can literally yap forever to me!!! I really like it especially your thoughts and analysis it's just so neat. 🙏 The essay had me kicking my feet the entire way home.

You also pointed out stuff I didn't think about. It's really cool and smart and observational!!! Plus it's always fun for me to read what people have to say about their blorbo. Your bingy bongus. Your special little meow meow.

You saying my art is nice , really makes my day 👉👈 hee hee thank you ❤️

Hfgghvhhb I love thissss

I don't really have a disclaimer. I might just end up repeating a lot of the opinions already stated? Might just be a ✨lil echo-chamber moment ✨

Honestly just agree with everything that you're pointing out.

I'm not a little hater (that energy takes a lot to bring forth) but I see both sides of the situation and it's a lot more gray than people want it to be. Like you were saying it has 20x more nuanced than a black and white situation. It's so much easier when stuff is black and white but this type of situation just can't be.

I trust the writers, they have the character's best interest at heart. New Moon/Nexus' story won't end at being a villain or a misunderstood tradegy. If the likes of Eclipse, Old Moon, Monty, and Puppet have grounds to be redeemed then so does Nexus (not that Nexus has ever done anything wrong)

LMAO I love the little guy but I'm so scared for him at the same time, cause I don't know what Dark Sun has in store for him. (Dark Sun so sexy aha~ 🤭 /j). Dark Sun needs him and is using him but I still can't get a read on for what yet. There's a lot of theories and while I adore them, Dark Sun doesn't seem the type to kill Nexus? It's fun to consider he's using Nexus to feed the Witherstorm dragon thing but.... There's so many easier ways to do that than to take in Nexus.

I still can't get over how he used the phrase "You're one of the dead ones" but something I haven't seen pointed out yet, that's Dark Sun's personal terminology. No one else ever considered Nexus "a dead one". I think New Moon actually started spiraling as early as then. Dark Sun planted that seed of disent intentionally.

He's basically a baby and was just getting along with his new bestie and his siblings and then someone wearing the face of his big brother just casually implied he's a zombie. Nothing but an echo. A walking corpse.

I would be scared of what I am too.

*slaps Nexus* this bad boy can hold so much identity crisis.

Also the thing on Earth just 👌 mwah. The entire p&s convo was dramatic AF. Couldn't get over how Sun warned Earth.... And he was so right about it all....I just, man....Earth, girlie pop.... What was said was not harsh...

I should add, I actually really like Earth and wish we had more female characters in media, but also I will say she did kind of drop the ball on this. Again it's sticky. She's not perfect and I love her for that but she also turned harsh to the wrong person. There's a time and place to be stern and unforgiving and I think it's not when someone is literally terrified and on the brink. (Like you said!!!)

So idk..... The immediate disowning that everyone did? That was harsh. Except Sun, my little pookie, he hasn't disowned him. Sun just suffers from an unfortunate negative communication stat. He puts his foot in his mouth a lot. I'm a Sun simp but even I agree he didn't handle stuff right. In his defense, I got the vibes he just wanted to help Moon but he needed help to him and no one wanted to give it. He went to Earth for help and it actually made it worse. In fact, Sun's entire support system completely failed him.

Isn't that just crazy?

While I don't hold Sun or Earth responsible, I do hold the likes of Monty, Puppet and Foxy responsible. Especially Monty. I'm also upset Lunar just hung back..... He even said he wasn't close to NM....I get vibes Lunar is lying to protect himself and not have to face feelings but... ouch

Anyways back to New Moon/Nexus, there has to be something going on there cause it just wasn't right. He's such a sweetheart and so very different from New Moon.

I see NM/Nexus as the baby who has big shoes to fill. Solar took those shoes from him so he could be more of his awkward sweet self. He screamed at Sun way back when he thought Sun was going to accidentally hurt/ kill himself with Star Power because he was so soul crushingly scared of losing his big brother (and he was extra upset that Sun's reason to hide it from him because he was unconsciously comparing NM to OM). He also went out of his way to make sure Solar would be ok in the final Eclipse showdown by shoving him into the portal while he laser striked the guy.

What crazy to me about NM/Nexus literally seconds after coming to life, was threatened by Eclipse. He woke up fighting what was essentially a God that hated him and his whole family. His breaking point for him wasn't that he lost Solar, it was that he couldn't bring him back. There's so much terror and fear in that kind of loss of control.

You literally opened my eyes so much when you pointed out "he's killing himself to make the pain of caring stop"

MY HEART

😭😭😭

I hope they save the little pookie.

(i started this on Friday but you caught me when I was going home from work and I ended up falling asleep while writing this so I'm posting it now! 🤣)

((ps. One of the fics I like updated so I reread the first chapter and the second and in the fic Ruin called Nexus "baby Moon" and i haven't been over it))

Morning peachy!

Happy Friday, I was scrolling through your blog and literally didn't realize you were the one that made the Nexus design that lives in my head rent free. I love your art and vibes ❤️🥰❤️

I'm at the part when Old Moon is back and met Earth it's SO AWKWARD

I don't like it (not mad he's back but it's just the entire lead up has me upset)

I was watching Baby Moon/New Moon and Earth like you said and idk, I think it's really messed up how everything went down. Earth seemed to jump to a lot of conclusions about New Moon and she seemed really upset but also I don't think what New Moon said to push her away was actually that mean. Maybe it's just me?

I also didn't like how Sun went to others for help because he's so lost on what to do with New Moon and everyone was just "let's kill him"

I'm so messed up over this....

What's your thoughts on this? I want to know your observations 👀✍️

First off,

SNIFFS. bro your art and your vibes are INCREDIBLE so that compliment means a whole lot to me. tysm <3

Second off, oh-ho-ho. my friend, you've just opened up pandora's box for me. this response is gonna be a long one, let's see how incomprehensible it will get-

(Also, just so anyone who doesn't know me knows, I'm currently not watching the security breach shows due to a bit of burnout, but mostly due to me not liking the current sams arc. I'm just avoiding it for the sake of me mental health. sooo if I bring up something that has already been acknowledged/fixed/changed in canon, forgive me <3. for sams, I have knowledge up to about "brothers REUNITE in vrchat", so. just go into this knowing that lol)

OKAY. AHEM. DISCLAIMERS DONE. HERE WE GO.

Don't have much to say about "I don't like it (not mad he's back but it's just the entire lead up has me upset)" other than I 1000% agree. I (again, personally) actually don't like that he's back, mostly because the lead up to O.M's return felt very rushed, it makes O.M's original sacrifice for K.C completely in vain, and O.M has essentially just taken N.M's role in the family now that N.M is where he is now, as Nexus. it was all very frustrating to see happen.

And, whooh, I can go on and on and on about how O.M has shown many signs that he hasn't actually improved as a person/brother as much as he claims to have, but I think that harpers on spoiler territory for you Sab so I'll save that for another day dkjfhsdfsd but as for the SECOND part of your statement...

"...I think it's really messed up how everything went down. Earth seemed to jump to a lot of conclusions about New Moon and she seemed really upset but also I don't think what New Moon said to push her away was actually that mean. Maybe it's just me?"

IT 👏 IS 👏 NOT 👏 JUST 👏 YOU 👏

From what I can tell, actually a lot of people agree with you!!! (me included). this leads to kind of a divide in-fandom between people who are on the families side, and those who are on New Moon's/Nexus'. and from what I've seen, even the people who aren't on either side just kind of find Nexus pathetic and emo. which is 100% fair and understandable, considering his "villain arc" was built off of shakey ground lol. AND while I am 100% a N.M/Nexus apologist, that wont stop me from acknowledging that he fucked up bad in some places sdkfjhsdjfk really, everyone messed up a lot to get into the situation they are now story-wise. it's not just one sides fault, and it's draining seeing people trying to make the dilemma one of black and white morals when it is 20x more complex than that. OKAY MINI RANT OVER, ONTO WHAT YOU REFERENCED SKFJDHSDF so. did Earth have every right to be hurt by what New Moon said? oh, 100% yeah, her brother just insulted and demeaned her to her face, ofc it would hurt.

But what really confuses me is how personally she took his insults??? Right before, genuinely, right before that confrontation; Sun warned her that Moon might say something he didn't mean. he warned her, because he knows from experience.

and yet Earth took it to heart??? w. why??? she knows a lot about mental health stuff, or she's supposed to, right??? surely she'd understand that it's a very common trauma/fear response for people to become aggressive and lash out, even against those who they love and care for??? right???

And I also agree that she was jumping to conclusions, or at least misinterpreting N.M's goals/intentions/reasonings. when N.M called her "not a real therapist", she took the greatest offense to that. but. the thing is. he wasn't??? wrong???? did he say it in a rude as hell and aggressive way??? yup, no denying that! but he's not wrong.

Earth isn't a licensed therapist. she is an animatronic with downloaded protocols and processes given to her by the Creator in attempts to try and be a therapist. but she literally admits it to herself multiple times in the show that she's not a real therapist, she just does her best. so it always confused me why she took N.M's statement to heart, because genuinely, for him, her best (or more specifically, her kind and patient style of therapy) wasn't enough. which is v tragic, much ow, big pain.

At the time of being confronted, N.M was exhausted, desperate, spiraling, hallucinating, not wanting to ask for help, lying to both himself and the family, in mourning- basically holding on by a thread. so when cornered, (literally, he physically was cornered in P&S) he lashed out and said mean things to be able to push those he cared about away and "get to safety". it was wrong of him to do, yes, but considering everything we knew about how Moon's (both New and Old) react to stressful situations from prior tragedies, it was to be expected.

BUT THEN??? EVERYONE JUST KIND OF GAVE UP ON HIM AFTER THAT????? he made one mistake. one. one mistake. and suddenly everyone was all like "alright, we've got to kill him." I??? DOES ANYONE ELSE THINK THAT'S A LITTLE BIT FUCKED UP??? HELLO?????

I'm not denying that N.M was becoming unstable. I'm not denying that he was becoming aggressive. he was, and that's why he needed help. he needed someone to stick by him even as he was pushing them away, to love him even at his lowest, and no one did. Imo, at least Sun has the excuse of being traumatized by Old Moon's past actions, which could explain why he was so desperate for everyone else's input, but Earth and Lunar??? Monty and Puppet too??? hello???? why the hell are you doing your brother/friend (who is doing all of this TO GET SOLAR BACK BECAUSE HE WANTS TO MAKE THEM ALL HAPPY, MIND YOU) like this???? HELLO????

And I'm also bringing up that Nexus still hasn't really. done anything??? in the current point of the story??? the worst thing he's done so far is rough up O.M a bit. but other than that, all he did was say cruel/threatening things to/about the other Celestials. he's yet to act on.. anything?? he hasn't killed a single person. and you know who have killed people?? Sun, Lunar, Solar, Old Moon, Puppet, Monty... and yet?? some people see him as an irredeemable monster???? it's. strange to me. it's obvious he's hurting, it's obvious he still cares. and he's literally killing himself to try and make the pain that comes with caring stop- isolating himself, poisoning himself, and literally ripping out his own emotions, idk guys, those don't seem like the actions of an irredeemable villain, but maybe it's just me sdkfljhsdf

As expected, this turned into an essay. BUT I'm done now, me-me needs to go take a shower gkfdjhhfgjsd thank you for the excuse to yap, Sabronda!!! I love New Moon/Nexus so much they're my ultimate cringefail. I'm certain they have an edgy Sonic OC somewhere in that evil lab of theirs