#no… the third movie doesn’t exist
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25 years ago I was born but, more importantly, 25 years ago The Mummy was released. Had a lil rewatch and the smile has not left my face.
First things first, thank you to the cast for awakening my bisexuality. Secondly, Evie is my hero and one of the first female characters I saw growing up that was not only doing a job I daydreamed about but was a badass as well as a librarian. Thirdly, Brendan Fraser…. No one is hotter than you or will ever be. You’re everyone’s type. You’re THE type. Each individual lock of hair on your head deserves its own room in a 5 star hotel. The clothes on your skin as Rick make me want to burn down the entire fashion industry for never being good enough, for never matching the standards you set. Fourthly, Jonathan……. You’re a cash-hungry kook and I will always appreciate you for it. Fifthly, Ardeth Bay… Ardeth Bay…….. Ardeth Bay…………… baby girl……………… you’re gay. You saw a white man trudge through the desert after being in a forbidden city and instead of killing him, as you would do with anyone else, you let him go. The second you saw him the next time your first words were “he’s strong”. When you first came face to face with him and his gun, you walked away AFTER you disarmed him. Then, you ran into mummy zombies to give your boyfriend time to save his girlfriend. Then you came back to say goodbye. You’re gay, son. And you made Rick gay for you too. Sixthly, Imhotep I hate you but in the kinkiest way possible. It’s giving screaming-“fuck you”-just-to-get-you-to-fuck-me vibes and I wouldn’t expect anything less unhinged from myself. Seventhly… Anck-Su-Namun, I too would raise hell and bring every plague to earth if it meant getting to spend time with you. Never seen a hotter human being in my entire liFE. Lastly…. Given that The Mummy has had two perfect movies, I’m still waiting for the final part of this incomplete trilogy. I am a patient child. I will wait forever.
K.
That’s all.
#no… the third movie doesn’t exist#the mummy#they’re all thirst traps#as Blake said… my thirst is trapped#the mummy 25th anniversary#the mummy 1999#brendan fraser#rick o'connell#rachel weisz#evelyn carnahan#evie carnahan#john hannah#jonathan carnahan#oded fehr#ardeth bay#arnold vosloo#imhotep#patricia velasquez#anck su namun#1990s#1990s nostalgia#1990s movies#decade: 1990s#90s movies#90s kid
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the “good luck liking this character because all people get out of their arc is the surrounding satosugu” club
shoko
riko
yuta
#babbles#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk spoilers#in Tags#sooo tired of how ppl treat shoko like the only person geto+gojo are important to are eachother#as if their thing wasn’t being. A Trio#like hidden inventory is not just geto and gojo. there is a whole entire third person in that friend group#riko saddens me because (pronoun hcs incoming) his arc is so so tragic and he’s such a good character and YES the impact he had#on geto+gojo emotionally is important in fact that’s the entire reason he exists as a character. but its still saddening to care about riko#and only have people talk about him in the context of his role in other people’s arcs and how his death made geto Sooo Sad and not#his death being tragic in its own right because he had an entire life to live and was a kid who up until then thought he wanted to die#(I LOVE GETO HES ONE OF MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS BUT CAN WE CARE ABOUT RIKO ON HIS OWN… pls…)#yuta here is mostly because jjk0 is just the satosugu movie to some people. But he doesn’t get this treatment As bad as the other two#(hmm shoko and riko in particular i wonder why..#obligatory I LIKE SATOSUGU I JUST THINK PEOPLE ARE ANNOYING
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Ngl ppl who keep going on and on abt how jd was an abusive piece of shit are equally if not more annoying then ppl defending him
“ waaa waaa JD is an abusive asshole who treated his brothers like shit and exploited them “ I mean you aren’t exactly wrong but shut the fuck up anyways
#I legit hate most of brozone bc of this stupid ass fandom I’m so sick of them#Bruce and Clay are on thin ice#but fuckkk I hate JD and I hate Floyd and I wish they didn’t exist I wish brozone never existed#btw Branch doesn’t count as Brozone#I wish the third movie was just abt Poppy and Viva#and have the person kidnapped be a snack pack member or smth idk#I fucking hate this fandom but I can’t leave bc I’d rather kill myself than interact with the cookie run fandom#and I hate the splatoon fandom too#and the other things I’m into either have fandoms I don’t wanna deal with ( Pokémon )#or they’re so small/niche#and I don’t rlly have any non fandom ocs / stories to hyperfixate on#cosmic rantz#dreamworks trolls
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totally watching the new descendants movie tomorrow and playing try not to cringe
#sophie's diary entry#from the trailer alone i can tell its gonna be cringey#why would they touch my precious duology#the third movie doesn’t exist for me#descendants
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i love httyd 2 but i every time i watch it i know i’d enjoy it more if valka didn’t exist
#i need to be salty about this okay#it has been 9 years and my mind has not changed#she’s a cool character but like. go away please. why do you exist#she doesn’t even do anything in the third movie anyway. like stoick’s dead but at least he still played an important role lmao#also: to the people who love her? mad respect. believe me i have tried to like her. she’s just not for me#httyd
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my nine favourite first watches of 2023 thank youuuuuu dear @twoguysonebeartrap for tagging meeeee <3
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I’ve watched more new films this year than ever before thanks to will (<3) and my classmates that keep taking me to student cinemas :’)
tagging @m0nk3ysinspace @archaicden @mannettaaaa @gwaydyke @valenshawke @missjenca
#special mention to gone girl that was an incredible comedy that I had no idea about <3#ALSO special mention to the full monty which was an incredible movie and almost made this list#and a third mention to Tár that was fun mostly for the sake of the scene where cate blanchett calls herself a father in German#barbenheimer doesn’t exist to me (I watched both)
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⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ early morning moments with skz !
⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff! jisung's a tiny bit suggestive
⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: since i've done late night moments with them, i think it's only fitting i write this as well! enjoyy <33 pls let me know your thoughts by reblogging or leaving a comment <3 (inspired by some of these prompts <3)
𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧
You’ve been awake for a while now, snuggling and holding each other close as half of your body was on top of your boyfriend’s, almost latching onto him like a koala bear without shame. And he didn’t mind, Chan never did, content with being glued to you in every situation, hugging you so tightly like he wanted you to morph into one, the same entity kept alive by the beating of a singular heart.
“You fell asleep in the first 20 minutes of the movie last night.” You whisper, drawing random shapes on his exposed pecs, laying in the crook of his neck. Chan makes an apologetic sound before he’s interrupted by a yawn, stretching his arms above his head and letting one fall to curl around your middle. “Sorry, baby. I guess I was pretty tired.”
Tired is an understatement, and you laugh, lazily reaching for your phone on the nightstand to show him exactly what you’re talking about, with him tugging you right back to his chest when you stretch too far. There is a picture of Chan, sitting on the couch with his head thrown back and mouth open, snoring away while the movie he’s been begging you to watch together was rolling in the background.
The laugh he lets out is quieter than usual, the remains of sleep obvious in his half-closed eyes and deeper voice. “Damn, I was out like a light.”
You continue cuddling for a while before agreeing it’s time to start your day, reluctantly separating and sitting up at the end of the bed, adopting the same stance.
He’s still mumbling about something when you notice his hair sticking out in every direction, reaching out to tame the curls before stealing a kiss which only makes your boyfriend want another, and another until twenty minutes have passed and you’re still in bed, snuggling and making out like the world outside your bedroom did not exist.
𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧
“Minho.” You whisper, tossing and turning under the blanket to face him, peering at his sleeping face. Your boyfriend was on his back, resting peacefully, unaware of the godly beauty he possessed, one people would surely go to war for, chest rising and falling rhythmically.
He doesn’t respond so, you try again. “Minho!” this time, he scrunches his nose cutely and rolls over, away from you and your antics he was too tired to be a victim of this early in the morning.
“Minho, are you awake yet?” You know what they say, third time is the charm because your boyfriend responds instantly, voice loud and clear, the opposite of your soft tone which takes you by complete surprise. “No.”
“Oh, okay.” you whisper, feeling bad for disturbing him. “Sorry.” you almost turn on your side and succumb to slumber before it hits you. Without warning, you swing a leg over his torso before rolling yourself over him to land on the other side of the bed, ignoring all his groans in protest.
“Liar!” You’re nose to nose now and Minho barely gets to open his eyes before you push his shoulder, causing him to fall on his back as you climb to straddle him. You waste no time leaning down and connecting your lips in a sweet kiss, cupping his cheeks and squeezing affectionately. As much as he wanted to complain, Minho couldn’t help but smile against your lips, body melting into the mattress while one of his veiny hands moved to rest on your exposed thigh, needing to feel more of you.
He should lie more often if this is the reward he gets.
𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧
“Binnie.” You’re gentle as you brush curly hair strands from his forehead, smiling when he instantly leans into your touch. “My love, I know you’re awake.”
“Then you should also know I hate waking up to an empty bed.” He pouts, eyes still closed stubbornly. With the same fond smile, you roll your eyes, hand dropping down to slowly trace his every feature, knowing he could never resist you.
“I had a good cause, I promise.” When he doesn’t budge, you reach for the tray on the nightstand and place it across his lap, over the blanket, careful his smoothie doesn’t spill over. “I made breakfast.”
Just like magic, his eyes snap open and he sits up so quickly you wonder if he got whiplash that was instantly cured by the smell of his favorite breakfast. His eyes sparkle as his gaze moves back and forth from the tray to you, so touched and grateful as he takes it all in, noticing the effort you put in so early in the morning just to cook a feast and surprise him with breakfast in bed. Nobody’s ever done something like this for him, love him so deeply and openly. Is this what being the luckiest man in the world felt like?
“I love you.” The words stumble out without second thought, eyes misty, forgetting all about being upset and giving you attitude. When you laugh, he does too, carefully leaning over the food to kiss you, the love of his life that adored him in the exact same way he adored you.
Love is the greatest gift he’s ever received and as selfish as it sounds, Changbin hopes you’ll continue loving him this way for the rest of your shared lives, that you’ll always remain by his side. He promises to continue eating your cooking even when you’re both old and grey, impaired taste and all.
𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧
The early hours of the morning found you in the arms of your beloved, sleeping away, undisturbed by the outside world and its people who were already hurrying around to get to work on time. You won’t be joining them today, nor will the man whose warmth was currently engulfing you whole, creating a safe love bubble you never wanted to burst.
Your face was buried in his chest, the soft material of his t-shirt moving with each breath he took, his heartbeat rocking you to sleep every time your eyes opened to check the time. Old habits die hard, but Hyunjin always manages to calm your racing mind even from dreamland.
Half an hour later, when the sun starts to peek through the drawn curtains, you’re awakened by tiny paws jumping on the bed, breathing and barking loudly. So much for sleeping in. Hyunjin’s eyes open with a smile, arms tightening their hold on your middle as he brings you even closer, resting his chin on top of your head while squeezing tightly. Morning cuddles were a must, even if your boyfriend’s other baby was too impatient to be let out to allow you to enjoy them to the fullest.
“Good morning, love.” He greets you with a kiss, lingering there for the briefest moment before finally tearing himself from you, giggling down the hallway as he quickly goes to allow Kkami on the terrace.
He comes back rambling about something that happened at a schedule the other day, blinking the sleep away as he hands you a water bottle, yawning here and there. Unfortunately for him, you’re not listening, too distracted by the way his plump lips move and his husky voice, the words going in one ear and out the other as your inner monologue takes over.
“Your morning voice is so hot.” Hyunjin stops mid-sentence, momentarily taken aback before he bursts out laughing, dramatically collapsing back into bed and reaching for your hand to hold. “What?”
You nod, now sitting up against the headboard, eyes still zoned in on his pink and wet lips, enthralled. “Tell me more, baby. What did Chan do?” “He wasn’t even there!” See, not paying attention at all. But who could blame you when your boyfriend couldn’t take the hint and finally kiss you again?
𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧
“I had a dream about you.” Jisung perks up from his place on your chest, the TV running idly in the background, showing a random cartoon. “Was I hot?” “You cheated on me.”
He gasps dramatically but doesn’t move, too comfortable as you continue running your fingers through his freshly dyed hair, almost lulling him back to sleep. “Asshole move, dream me. Off with his head!.”
You chuckle, kissing the top of his head and turning into a puddle once he begins leaving wet kisses on your neck, apologizing or most likely trying to distract you from how he’s been acting in your dream. It was working, because you lost your train of thought a couple of times before managing to speak again, eyes fluttering shut.
“You were very mean, actually.” Jisung hums against your neck, licking the skin before his kisses move downwards, to your collarbones, warm hands holding you down by the waist, touch burning pleasantly through your thin clothing.
“I’m sorry, baby.” He props his head up, chin resting right above your chest as his eyes bore into yours with a familiar intensity. “Please let me make it up for you.”
That’s what he says but ten minutes into making out and caressing each other’s bodies, his head falls tiredly to his previous place on your chest and you’re both out like a light, the warmth and cloudy weather of the early morning casting the spell of sleep on your forms and trapping you in bed for another three hours.
𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧
You were not a morning person, it was a well-known fact by everyone in your life. Especially by your boyfriend who usually stayed up to keep you company, talking the hours away and giggling under the blankets until you both passed out just as the moon was retiring for the day.
So, you’re more than perplexed when one very early morning, you feel a warm hand caressing your cheek, followed by soft lips peppering feather-like kisses on every inch of your face, coaxing you awake.
“Baby,” his deep voice calls, barely above a whisper to not scare you, leaving a kiss on the corner of your mouth this time, “wake up, angel.”
You make a face, eyes still closed in protest and make to turn over, away from him until you feel the bed dip and his hand in your hair, massaging the scalp gently. Was Felix trying to wake you up or lull you back to sleep? Pretty sure he was just as confused.
When he leans down again, hovering over your face, your arms spring up and lock at the back of his neck, quickly bringing him down and bumping your noses together. You see his eyes widen, inhaling sharply as he realizes what you’re about to do and dodges your kiss last second, lips landing on his cheekbone instead.
Groggy and grumpy from being woken up this early, you pout, relaxing under his weight as his chest presses yours down. “Kiss me!” Felix chuckles and shakes his head, hands on either side of your head holding him up. “Not until you wake up and join me in the kitchen.” Once he sees you shake your own head and move to try and kiss him again, he adds. “I have a surprise!”
Now why didn’t he say so from the beginning? You release him but he doesn’t move away immediately, smiling from ear to ear before kissing your forehead and scooping you out of bed in one swift movement, strong arms under your knees as he giggles and jogs towards the kitchen, face brightening up when a smile finally graces your features.
𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧
Every single morning, Seungmin was the first to wake up without fail, reaching for you to bring your body to his chest and cuddle until you also did, just laying there since he never wanted you to wake up alone.
That’s why when you woke up earlier than usual, with his chin resting on your shoulder and hot breath hitting your cheek, you didn’t hesitate to move around and bring the blanket further up your bodies, making sure you were both covered and comfortable among the many pillows.
“Your feet are cold.” But Seungmin doesn’t respond, legs intertwined and body still glued to yours like he never wanted to let go, couldn’t. You sneak a glance over your shoulder and find his eyes closed, long eyelashes kissing the top of his cheeks as he rested, sleeping deeply. For the first time since you’ve known him, Seungmin didn’t smile in greeting as you woke up, still sleeping soundly like it was the most normal thing in the world.
It felt a bit strange, but your heart only grew as you watched him, admiring his side profile and the peaceful look on his face, the furrow between his eyebrows absent as dreamland took care of him.
You never got the chance to do this, wake up first and let your thoughts run wild as you resist the urge to squeeze his cheeks and plant kisses all over his face, love pouring out at a dangerous pace, threatening to suffocate him at any moment. Not like Seungmin would mind, adoring you too much to not allow you to do whatever you pleased.
As careful as you can be, one of your hands trails down and intertwines your fingers, gently bringing your connected hands to your chest as you curl further into him, content with getting more cuddle time, loving every single moment.
𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧
“Did you know you talk in your sleep?” You mumble into his neck, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to hide from the obnoxious sunlight that is threatening to take your lover away with the start of a new day.
Jeongin laughs, incredulous. “No way! I’ve had countless roommates and none of them have ever complained about me randomly rambling in my sleep.” He headbutts you affectionately, almost like a cat, and snuggles closer, also bothered by the sun but too lazy to get up and close the curtains he forgot about last night.
“I’m not complaining.” Looking up, you share a breath as you move to plant a small kiss on his nose, smiling when it scrunches up in fake annoyance, knowing your boyfriend loved morning cuddles as much as you did. “I actually think it’s kind of endearing.”
He rolls his eyes, big hand drawing circles on your back under the blanket, soothing you in an attempt to get you both to fall back asleep. Mornings were not his thing, and he really didn’t want to leave you, clingier than usual. The bed was so warm, and you were so soft and smelt so good, how could he ever think about leaving? Not like he’d ever admit it out loud.
“What did I say?” He chooses to entertain you, stretching his whole body before bringing the blanket over your heads and moving his arms to hug you, turning on his side so you’re face to face. You pause, momentarily mesmerized by his beauty, messy hair and puffy eyes only making him look even more adorable in your eyes. Tracing his bottom lip, he puckers them to gently kiss your finger. “I don’t know, I don’t speak gibberish.”
He groans, regretting he asked and hiding his face in his pillow. “You also snore.” “I do not!”
#stray kids#skz#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids headcanons#skz headcanons#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#stray kids fanfic#skz fluff#bang chan x reader#lee know x reader#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#han jisung x reader#felix x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader
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LET ME SEE THE HEAT GET TO YOU.
rintarou suna x f!reader
wc: 2.1k tags: 18+ only, and they were roommates, the complete and utter objectification of rintarou suna's hands, hand kink, oral fixation, finger sucking, fingering -> requested
“What?”
Suna’s voice startles you from your drifting train of thought, and the back of your neck heats up in embarrassment as you peel your gaze away from the sight of his fingertips drumming against his mouth, turning your focus back to the television.
It was accidental—the birth of this oddly distracting fixation.
Suna’s been your roommate for nearly six months, an arrangement of convenience when your prior roommate bailed with hardly a week’s notice and left you scrambling for someone to take over the second bedroom. Given that he was in between apartments and had been crashing on Atsumu’s couch for nearly a month at that point, it worked out in both your favor and his.
You even managed to convince yourself that the slightly inconvenient attraction you felt for your friend was negligible in the face of the prospect of trying to carry the bills for the apartment solo—that, or the inevitable stress of finding a complete stranger to move in instead.
And it was fine, for a little while.
Between work and cramming for finals, you hardly had time to dwell over things like how unfairly attractive he looks with his mussed bedhead and tired eyes when he makes his way out into the kitchen in the morning, or your newfound burden of knowledge of a tattoo that exists on the curve of his hip (courtesy of your single bathroom dwelling and a conveniently low-slung towel).
But three weeks and four days ago on an unsuspecting Wednesday afternoon, Suna unknowingly smashed every single precarious eggshell you’d been tiptoeing over with what you’d mistakenly thought was practiced ease.
Suna leans forward now, elbows resting on his knees as he watches the movie that you’ve hardly been paying attention to, and he idly drags the side of his thumb against his bottom lip.
Warmth stirs in your gut. You think back to that day, the slice of cake sitting atop a small white plate in the middle of the kitchen. The easy way your fork cut through the icing and down its soft center. The gentle mirth in Suna’s eyes as he stood on the other side of the island and listened to you recount a silly story from work.
The even easier way he’d reached across the expanse of marble countertop, wordlessly swiping away a rogue bit of frosting from the corner of your mouth with his thumb, leaving you to flounder for your words mid-sentence as he casually licked it off after.
To Suna, it was clearly nothing, given the way he’s carried on since like it never even happened.
For you, it’s become a Problem™.
Because now you can’t stop thinking about his stupid goddamn hands.
His large hands with those long, slender fingers and neatly kept nails.
It really doesn’t help that you’ve spent enough time watching him play volleyball to know the extent of their power, the quick dexterity with which he effortlessly blocks and serves, the impressive amount of control he can leverage with his digits curled around the ball’s surface.
Logically, they’re just hands.
This is what you try to tell yourself when you’re free from the stifling, one-sided terrarium of unrequited pining that you’ve turned your cozy third floor apartment into. You let your eyes sweep downward when you’re at work, when you’re in class, while you’re walking the aisles at the grocery store—and there’s not a goddamn single hand that passes through your line of sight that sets your heart racing like the ones that belong to your roommate.
Now you can hardly catch his eye in the bathroom mirror when you reach across the counter while he’s brushing his teeth without feeling warm all over at the sight of his fingers wrapped around his toothbrush.
Just last week, you nearly choked on your own dinner when you glanced up across the kitchen table to find him pressing his mouth to a piece of rice clinging to his knuckle.
The loose, uninhibited state your thoughts pile into at night doesn’t help your current predicament in the slightest, as you’ve begun to find yourself restless as you dwell on other things—other places Suna’s hands could slide and cup and grasp.
You’ve imagined how they’d feel pressed down on your tongue or molded against your breasts. Wrapped around your hips. Lodged deep in the slick of your cunt.
Spread, curled, grasping and thrusting until you’re coming so hard on nothing but the precise stretch of his digits that you can barely breathe.
It’s a date with someone who isn’t Suna, of all things, that brings it all crashing to a head.
Glancing down at your phone as it lights up on the bathroom counter, you groan when the time flashes across the screen. You’re running late.
“Wow, where are you headed?” Suna curiously pokes his head into the bathroom, and his eyes widen a fraction when he notices your outfit.
“Shit,” you gasp, jumping at the sudden sound of his voice and smearing a line of lipstick beyond the corner of your mouth in the process. The applicator clatters into the sink.
Whipping around, you inhale, clutching the edges of the counter with both hands as you blink at your roommate in surprise.
“Sorry,” he says, wincing.
“I have a date,” you tell him, words coming out in a rush.
Suna blinks, and while he’s in no way the most talkative person you’ve ever met, you’ve also yet to see him at a loss for words like he seems to be now. You don’t bother adding that the date in question is for the express purpose of giving you reprieve from the pathetically Pavlovian response you’ve developed to the mere sight of his hands.
“There’s—” he belatedly motions toward your face, where you can feel the smudged trail of lipstick.
You should probably turn around and start digging around under the sink for makeup remover, but predictably, you’re too focused on…yes…his hands.
When you make no move to clean yourself up, Suna takes a step forward, the toes of his socks brushing against your bare feet. He reaches out, eyes focused on the corner of your mouth, and swipes two fingers over the mess.
You stand there, rooted to the spot, the dizzying rush of blood in your ears hindering your ability to tell him that wiping it with his bare hands isn’t going to do anything.
And then his fingertips softly feather over the upper edges of your mouth.
You meet his gaze, your ribcage shuddering at the intensity of it, and before you’re fully aware of what you’re doing, your head tips back just enough to let his fingers slip to the plush center of your bottom lip.
Suna stares at you, unblinking, and he applies just enough pressure to part your lips.
Hot, insistent sparks of arousal flood your nervous system, setting alight the trail of desire that’s been steadily coating your better judgment like sticky, rich honey.
You lean forward, your hips and thighs brushing against his, and take Suna’s fingers into your mouth.
Whatever you were feeling before, whatever petty fantasies you’ve imagined in the quiet beneath your sheets, they pale in comparison to this—to the feeling of your tongue wrapped around Suna’s slender digits. The pressure of them against your tongue as the saliva pools in your mouth. The molten path that blazes through your gut when he pushes in further, from the second knuckle to the third.
A moan crawls up your throat, drool slipping out past your lips and down your chin as you suck, and you’d be embarrassed—if not for the hitch of his breath, the appreciative, answering groan that leaves Suna as he cups the side of your neck with his free hand.
The counter presses into your backside as Suna’s body presses more firmly into yours, his thumb scraping beneath your chin as he watches you come untethered.
“Fuck,” he mutters as you shudder at the friction he draws between your legs, desperately trying to take his fingers even deeper into the wet recesses of your warm mouth.
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know the errant swipe of your lipstick is likely nothing compared to the state of your lips as a whole right now.
And Suna seems to know exactly what you’re thinking, because without warning, he turns you around to face the mirror.
He’s hard, you can feel him pressing into your backside as the bite of the counter meets your hips.
“You’re a mess,” he murmurs softly against the shell of your ear, eyes dark as he finds yours in the mirror.
He’s not wrong—you are a mess. Lipstick is smeared well past the boundary of your mouth, and his fingers are stained red and slick with your saliva. Your chest heaves.
Suna slides his fingers back into your mouth, and this time, he watches you watch yourself as you suck on them, observes the none-too-subtle shudder that wracks down your spine at the depraved sight before you.
He smooths out the wrinkles in your dress, hand trailing down your front.
Your cunt aches.
“Suna…,” you gasp out.
He doesn’t break eye contact as he mouths at the curve of your jaw.
“…please…”
He adds a third finger as you continue to suck, and teeth drag down the side of your neck, his lips a hot brand as he presses them to your nape.
“Rin—”
The fingers in your mouth curl, and you place a hand over his, slowly tugging up the skirt of your dress.
“I thought you had a date,” he rasps, your phone vibrating beside you as a text message flashes across the screen.
“Change of plans,” you gasp as his hand slips out of your grip, rucking up the skirt of your dress to reveal the pretty, lacy panties beneath.
“You sure?” he asks, eyes finding yours in the mirror again, fingertips toying with the waistband of your underwear. His fingers leave your mouth, slipping down your front to caress your collarbone.
You nod.
Suna’s hand slips lower, gliding into your underwear, and he exhales when his fingers find the full extent of what a mess he’s made of you.
“And I thought your mouth was wet.” He sounds amused, but his tone is rougher now, the hard press of his erection against the globes of your ass more insistent as he begins to finger your slit.
You gasp at the sensation, your legs sliding further apart as your entire body relaxes into his, your head tipping back against his shoulder. His free hand finds a home loosely splayed across the throat that you’ve bared to him.
A slender finger slips easily into your wet hole, and the pleasure from that alone has your entire spine arching, hips eagerly rocking into his touch.
“Sensitive,” he observes, curling the digit against your plush, slick inner walls.
You whimper.
It’d be so much easier to stumble into his bedroom or yours, to be splayed wide across the sheets, hips arching up off of the mattress as he sinks three fingers deep. But it’s the filthy sight of yourself in the mirror that keeps you firmly rooted to the spot, body wholly overheated with arousal and desire.
Your legs spread a bit wider of their own accord, your balance going slightly askew, and Suna holds you fast as you writhe when one finger becomes two. Arousal drips from your folds, coating his hand and soaking into your underwear. The tightness of your hole relents around the stretch, and your throbbing clit aches as his palm firmly rocks against it.
An unhinged laugh threatens to burst out of you as you think about the last time a guy fingered you—the abysmal way you’d had to fake an orgasm out of pity just to get him to give up as your enjoyment petered out further with each overenthusiastic stroke.
You think about now, how your entire body’s been reduced to a livewire of heady pleasure, ready to burst on a hair trigger. Suna could probably stop moving his hand altogether and you’d still end up trembling and moaning and gushing all over his fingers before long anyway.
And it’s the sensation of his fingers sliding back into your mouth that finally sends you over the edge. The bright line of bulbs across the top of the mirror merge into one as your vision goes white, your climax rocking through you with reckless abandon. Suna’s nose slides against your cheek and he exhales roughly, his own muscles taut as his fingers guide you through it.
Your phone vibrates again on the counter.
“I can’t believe you’re standing up your date,” he murmurs, teasing, teeth nipping at your earlobe.
He’s still hard.
“I mean, I guess I can go looking like this,” you reply, making a circular gesture at yourself while you turn to face him.
Suna catches your chin in his hand, gently.
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
You dart your tongue out, letting it poke against the tip of his thumb.
The corner of his mouth curves upward as he leans in to kiss you.
#rintarou suna x reader#suna rintarou x reader#suna rintarou#rintarou suna#haikyuu!!#dee writes#dee's 2k#roommate!suna
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What’s a Jumpscare?
Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Geto Suguru x f!reader
Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Genre/Theme: Roommates to lovers type beat; non-sorcery au
Content warning: fluff, pure smut, oral (f and m.receiving), explicit sexual content, squirting, overstimulation, language, angst, Suguru is crass with his words, kinda jealous and possessive Suguru.
Summary: What’s the rational thing to do in the middle of the night when you’re scared shitless after watching a horror movie? It’s to call your flatmate Suguru to your room to sleep next to you. Being the nice roommate that he is, he’s more than happy to provide you with a solid distraction.
Author's Note: Porn with a plot but you really have to squint your eyes to find the plot honestly. I have no justification for this hehe. Thank you for reading, hope you enjoy it!
~ Eren’s Birdie
Song Dedication: Freak by Lana Del Rey
“What am I? A child? Fear doesn't exist in this household!”
.
.
.
That’s the embarrassing thing about overestimating yourself. One moment you’re boasting about your ability to endure jumpscares without flinching and the next, you’re sealing the ends of your blanket with your feet, hoping it’d protect you from imaginary ghosts.
As you bite your nails, waiting for your flatmate to answer the call, you feel embarrassed at how much of a wuss you’re gonna seem in front of him after talking big about not being one of the scaredy cats.
“Hello?” you hear his confused voice on the other end, laced with a hint of concern at you calling him in the middle of the night.
“Hi, Sugu,” you speak timidly, knowing you’re going to have to butter him up to get him to comply with your request. But before you can continue, you hear a mocking chuckle on the other end.
“Awww… look who’s scared shitless after bragging about being a horror movie connoisseur,” he teases.
“Pleaseee, come to my room,” you plead and you’re surprised when he agrees quickly before hanging up. But the emotion is soon replaced with dread when you realise that this is one of his rare golden opportunities to tease the hell out of you and Geto Suguru isn’t one to let it slide.
When he arrives, he doesn’t knock but slides your room door slowly so that the hinges creak eerily as it opens. His form almost blending into the dark hallway behind him, highlighted by your room’s awfully bright light.
“Suguru please, this is exactly why I did not want to call you here,” you complain as he smiles slyly, walking in before closing the door behind him.
“Then what did you call me here for?”
“Sleep here tonight,” you request, patting the space next to you on your bed.
“At least have the decency to ask me out on a date first.”
“That’s not– you know that’s not how I mean it!” you sigh.
“Be for real, this is all just a ruse to get me in your bed,” he snorts, leaning against the door with his hands crossed at his chest.
You roll your eyes and want to talk back at him but you remember that your scared ass doesn’t really have the upper hand here. You sigh again, “I’ll hold your pinky finger max… just so that I know I’m not alone in the room.”
“Holding hands? That’s like third base for you, babe,” he walks closer till he’s standing at the edge of the bed.
You pout at him and he bends forward in front of you, resting his palms on the edge of the mattress. “Did your dear friend not reply?” he teases you about your fuck buddy Marco but you decide not to react.
“Tease me all you want but please just get in!” you groan.
“Just sleep with the lights on,” he says dryly.
“I can’t fall asleep with the lights on but I’m too anxious to turn them off,” you reason, leaning forward to touch his bicep gently, hoping he’d be kind and understanding of your predicament.
“Just cover your head with the blanket?” He climbs into bed, sitting on the edge.
“Too suffocating. If you’ll be here, I’ll feel safe and sound,” you pout, trying hard not to smile at how he’s already complying to your request.
“I sleep naked.”
You suck in a breath to weigh your options. You know he’s just teasing but oh well, a distraction wouldn’t hurt, “I’ll allow shirtless.”
He takes his t-shirt off in an instant, throwing it to the floor before settling in next to you.
“Never miss a chance to make me uncomfortable…” you mumble as you try your best not to ogle at his abs.
“We both know you enjoy this, princess,” he smiles insincerely and you roll your eyes at him before turning to the side to reach the light switch near the bedside. Just as you turn the lights off, you feel a hand grab one of your ankles tightly and yank it roughly, causing you to let out a shriek as your body stumbles onto the mattress.
You hear Suguru laugh next to you as you turn to see his faint silhouette illuminated by the soft moonlight peeping through the window.
“Who does that!?” you scold him as you slap his chest repeatedly.
“Me!” he grabs your wrists to stop your attacks and instead wraps his arms around you. He falls back onto the mattress, caging you snugly into his arms so that your torso is almost on top of his.
“Suguru, I doubt this is a comfortable position to sleep in,” you wriggle into his arms as you free yourself to fall to the side, creating distance between your bodies as promised, holding only his index finger to maintain contact. A few minutes pass by in silence before you hear a sudden draft escaping the gaps of the window, making an eerie sound, causing you to hiss out a quiet ‘fuck’ as your hand readjusts to intertwine your fingers with his.
“If all you wanted to do was make noises instead of sleep, I could’ve done a much better job than a horror film,” he speaks softly as he untangles his fingers from yours.
You turn your head to look at his face, eyes searching his in the darkness, “Suguru, please stop teas–”
“Shhh, I’m just trying to get comfortable,” he interrupts and you feel his body turn to the side and towards you. His hand snakes around your waist as he pulls you into his warmth till your back is against his chest. This makes you giggle as you place your hand over his on your waist, fingers interlacing once again.
“Is this safe enough, madam?” His voice is playful but the way his hot breath fans the crook of your neck is far from funny. It’s as if the fear that had preoccupied your mind had suddenly started to lift, leaving behind a sudden sense of awareness. You suddenly feel hyper aware of the position you’re currently in with your attractive, not to mention shirtless, roommate.
You simply hum instead of speaking, not wanting your voice to betray you and expose the way you’re secretly enjoying the way his body feels against yours. For a second, you wonder how this type of stuff only happens in cheesy fictional movies or steamy romance novels. But on second thought, it might as well just be a well orchestrated happenstance – two adults willing to compromise on a rational way of solving things; and instead acting on their unbridled desire for each other, testing how far they can bend till one of them breaks.
That can never be you. You’ve taken an L as it is for one night, so if someone was going to break, it had to be him. You readjust your body to ‘get comfortable’, moving your hips slightly back till your ass is resting snugly against his crotch. However, when you don't get a reaction out of him, you abandon the idea just as quickly, creating some distance once again.
“Good night, Suguru,” you speak softly as you close your eyes, absentmindedly rubbing soft circles on the back of his hand while trying to understand how his brain works–you could’ve sworn the tension between you and him was real, so why was he acting so aloof?
You don't have to wonder much when you feel him move closer till you feel his bulge poke at your ass, causing you to halt your movement. Instead, Suguru's hand frees from under yours and dips under your t-shirt, fingers caressing dangerously close to your breasts. When you press your hips further back against him, he lets out a dry chuckle.
“Thought you were only going to hold a finger,” he mocks as his nose nudges behind your ear.
“This is a far better distraction,” you hum as you lift your hand up, moving it behind till your fingers are burrowed in his free raven locks.
“Is that what I am to you? Just a distraction?” his hand cups your boobs, fondling with the soft flesh, earning a satisfactory hum from you.
“No, you’re my dear roomie too,” you tease as you twist your head to look back at him, but your effort is in vain due to the darkness.
“Ahh, right! Just a roomie… that you keep on trying to seduce?”
“Whatever do you mean?” you pout as your hand moves to caress his cheek. He pinches your hardened nipple and it causes you to let out a quiet gasp.
“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about… roaming around the house without a bra… your nipples poking through the awfully thin fabric of your t-shirts,” his words make the heat rush to your cheeks as you feel his lips graze your neck and you close your eyes at the feeling.
“You roam around shirtless too.”
“That’s different.”
“Sure… seems to me that you’re the pervert here. C-can’t I be comfortable at my own place?” you tease but your voice comes out breathless as your brain is stuck on the way Suguru is playing with your nipples.
“Hmm… I'm trying to do just that… get you more comfortable,” Suguru bites your shoulder lightly as his hand moves down to dip into your sweatpants.
“Such a considerate roomie–mmh,” you swallow your words when he rubs your mound from over your underwear, “... what would I do without you, Sugu.”
You grab his hair to pull his face away from your shoulder before twisting your body further to kiss him on the lips. Your lips miss the mark and land on the corner of his mouth. He lets out a snort at this and brings his hand up to squeeze your cheeks before kissing you right.
His tongue slides into your mouth, swirling against your own and alternating it with soft tugs at your bottom lip. Suguru’s such a good kisser that you feel lightheaded when he breaks the kiss to allow you both catch your breaths. You can make out his outline as he moves away from you, making his way to your corner of the bed to turn the light on.
“Too bright!” you cover an arm over your eyes, scrunching your face at the sudden change.
“I want to see you,” he states calmly as he straddles you, fingers sliding the fabric of your t-shirt up to expose your belly.
“The lamp has enough light,” you stop his movement and motion him to move towards the bedside table.
He rolls his eyes but obeys as he makes his way to switch the bright tube light with the soft orange light of the lamp, “You could’ve easily fallen asleep in this dim light… you just wanted a reason to get me in your bed, huh?”
“Well, I really was scared,” you pout, making him laugh as he turns back to look at you.
“Yeah rig–” his words get caught in his throat when his eyes land on your bare chest.
“Would you rather go back to your room?” you tilt your head slightly as you toss your t-shirt to the ground before tracing your fingers gently over your rock-hard nipples. If Suguru had any other thoughts in his mind before that moment, the slate is wiped completely clean when he sees the way your dainty fingers dance over your skin, luring him in like a siren to a sailor.
“That ship sailed the moment you asked me to get in your bed,” he leans over you till you’re lying flat on your back and wets his lips as his eyes shamelessly fixate on your exposed tits. Without wasting another second, he dips his head down to suck on one tit while his fingers play with the other.
Your hands find their way to his hair as you let out soft hums, closing your eyes to enjoy the way his tongue feels on your sensitive skin.
He moves further down, leaving wet smooches over your belly but his movements come to a halt when his eyes land on your belly button.
“Is this new?” He asks, causing you to open your eyes and you find him eyeing the tiny ring piercing that's barely visible unless seen up close.
You shake your head, “You just never got to see it.”
“I knew you were a freak,” he leans down to kiss over it, “those innocent, doe eyes might trick others but they never fooled me.”
“But isn't that why you’re so hard, baby? Cause you like them freaky?” You shoot back as you hook one leg around his waist to tug the waistband of his sweats down with your toes. He grabs your ankle, peeling it away from him and pinning it down to the bed.
He simply gives you a devilish smile before leaning down to graze the silver metal piercing with his teeth, pulling at it playfully. In that moment, your body's reaction is beyond your control as you let out a whimper, goosebumps covering the entire expanse of your skin.
You bring your hands up to your chest to play with your nipples, back arching when his wet tongue licks a strip down your belly. He hooks his fingers into your waistband before pulling them down your legs along with your underwear.
“Fucking hell Suguru,” you moan when you feel two fingers opening your puffy folds, dragging over the surface to spread your wet juices around.
“Yes, princess?” He looks up to meet your eyes and he can feel the blood rushing to his dick, making it harder than ever. He thinks he might as well cum by just looking at your already fucked out expressions while your fingers greedily play with your tits.
“I want your tongue… please eat me out,” your request is almost a breathy whisper.
“Hmm, what do I get in return?” He wonders, fingers rubbing soft circles over your clit.
“I'll suck you off–”
“No.”
“Please… fuck– what then?” Your voice grows impatient as rut your hips up to feel more of his fingers.
“I want you to stop calling that fucker over whenever you're horny,” his voice is so stern that it actually makes you focus on what he's saying.
Your eyebrows furrow at this as you stop playing with yourself to sit up on your elbows to get a better look at his face, “Who? Marco? I don't underst–”
“What's so hard to understand, dummy? I'm fucking sick of hearing you scream someone else’s name at nights when I know I could fuck you much better than that guy,” Suguru's tone is calm, yet he has to grit his teeth to keep his cool.
He didn't have to ask – in your mind it was already a given – what could possibly be better than having your unbelievably attractive flatmate make you his. No other men could ever compare moving forward.
Yet you want to push his buttons, like you always do, “hmm… I don’t know about that, Sugu. He’s really good with his tongue...”
“Is that the game you really wanna play?” He groans as he spreads your thighs open, nestling himself between your legs. He dips his head down till it is just inches away from your core, “Well, then… be my fucking guest.”
You bite your lip to keep yourself from grinning too hard – it was so fucking easy to rile him up. His tongue is quick to latch onto your pussy, causing you to let out a soft moan at the sudden contact.
Your body melts back down onto the mattress as you bring your hands down to play with his hair. He licks a strip up to your clit before moving back down to dip his tongue into your hole. As he begins to alter the pressure of his tongue, your thighs twitch involuntarily.
“Oh god– Suguru, right ther– nghh,” you push his head further down to bury his face against you completely. Suguru smiles at you as he lifts his head up slightly before letting the spit on his tongue trickle down to your hole and you can feel your insides clutching around nothing.
You lean your head back and shut your eyes tight when you feel his fingers spread his spit around your entrance. He takes you by surprise when he suddenly shoves two of his thick fingers into your cunt. The moan that escapes your lips next is vile to say the least and you bring your hand up to muffle it.
“No… don’t act shy now, baby. Let me hear your pretty voice,” he growls and you feel his other hand come up to yank yours away from your mouth as he begins fucking you with his fingers.
You nod your head desperately with your eyes still closed and whimper at his words, but it doesn’t take long before you’re cussing out lewd profanities when his tongue plays with your clit at the same time he begins to pump his fingers inside you faster.
“Suguru, y-you’re so good,” you stutter out praises as you feel your mind numbing at the sensation, getting closer to your orgasm. Your back arches off the bed when you feel him suck on your bud, adding a third finger into your hole.
“Oh my— yesyesyes,” you cry as your body twitches under him. You’re so close, you can almost feel yourself breaking. You bring your shaky hand to his hair again as you look down to find his eyes fixed on your face. Your eyebrows knit, the intensity of his gaze making you feel vulnerable and exposed.
“Sugu– I’m so clo–” you halt mid-sentence when he pulls away completely, causing your build-up to drop suddenly. You whine as you hook your legs around his torso, “Suguru! What the fuck?”
“Aww, sorry baby. Were you about to cum?” His tone is condescending. He holds up his hand to examine the wet coat of your juices glistening on his fingers, “Maybe you can call Marco over to finish the job?”
“Suguru, stop being so cruel,” you huff as you tug at his hand to pull him closer.
“You’re the cruel one here… expecting me to share what’s mine,” he moves up to kiss you on the lips and your moans are muffled by his tongue when his fingers part your folds once again, making your hips twitch.
“Please, I was only teasing. You’re the only one I want,” you beg, out of breath when he releases your lips.
“Is that so?” his hot breath fans your face. You nod desperately, clawing at his forearm to get him to move his hand once again.
“So, no more Marco? You’ll break all contact with that fucker?” he asks but it’s a rhetorical question anyway.
“Only you, Suguru,” you agree nonetheless as you lean your head up to kiss him once again.
“That’s a good girl. See how easy it was?” he smirks as his head moves down to your neck to suck on your skin roughly. Your brain goes dumb when he finds your sweet spot, you bring your hands to his shoulders all the while chanting his name when his fingers start fucking into you again.
You squirm under him as his bodyweight restricts your movement. When he feels your pussy flutter around his fingers, he’s quick to make his way back down to stimulate your clit with his tongue. You root your feet into the mattress, your hips thrusting up as your muscles twitch again.
“Keep going, fuck–Suguru” you cry as you grip his hair with one hand while your other hand pinches one of your nipples. The pressure in your core releases as soon as it builds when your orgasm breaks through you. Your legs fall limply to the sides but your abdomen still twitches as Suguru continues to lap at your juices.
You feel way too sensitive as his ruthless tongue and fingers begin to overstimulate you. You yank at his hair to warn him but he doesn’t budge.
“Suguru, too much–ahh!” your body twitches violently and he presses his other hand over your lower belly to keep you from moving too much. As you shiver under his touch, you can feel the coil building up in your stomach – it happens before you even realise it and you squirt all over his face.
You cry his name out loud, tears escaping your eyes as your body falls limp and you feel as if you’ve lost all strength. Suguru pulls his fingers out as he sits up between your legs, sucking his fingers clean before pushing the loose strands of his hair back.
Your chest heaves and you see the way his face shines due to the wetness. You bring a foot up to his chest, pushing him till he’s leaning back slightly, “You’re the freak here, Suguru.”
“Never said I wasn’t,” he smiles as he rests his palms onto the mattress, leaning back and spreading his legs open. You sit up and lean forward as you hook your hands into the waistband of his pants to pull them down along with his boxers. He lifts his hips up slightly and his dick springs free when you pull the garments down, discarding them to the side.
You lean down closer to his dick, your pussy fluttering when you see how perfect his size is – length as well as girth wise. Suguru has the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen and it looks even prettier with the precum leaking from the slit. You move your thumb over the angry tip, sliding the foreskin further down.
You smile at him innocently before focusing back down as your tongue licks over the head, wetting it further with your saliva. Suguru feels like he’s about to lose his shit at this, his dick throbbing painfully in your hands.
A guttural groan escapes his lips when he feels you take his length into your mouth till his tip is hitting the back of your throat. Your left hand moves under to fondle his balls while your right hand gently claws at his thigh. He runs a hand through your hair when you start bobbing your head over his cock.
“Shit– take it in, princess,” his voice strains as he grabs your hair to push your head further down. You let out a muffled groan when you gag slightly.
You pick up your pace and he doesn't know if it's because he's been hard for an awfully long time or if you’re clouding his senses, taking over every thought but he comes undone quickly.
When you rub the base tightly while letting his tip hit the back of your throat in a repeated motion, you feel his dick twitch.
“Fuc– baby, I'm cumming,” he moans as he tries to warn you, tugging at your hair gently but you maintain a steady rhythm, making him shoot his hot liquid in your mouth.
You slow down to pull away from his dick and look up to find Suguru leaning back, resting his weight on his elbows. His eyebrows furrow when he sees the way a string of saliva connects his dick to your glistening lips. He closes his eyes shut as his head falls back limply – he thinks it's impossible to get hard so quickly again after a good head but his body is hell-bent on proving him wrong.
You wipe your lips with the back of your hand as you sit up and giggle at his state. He opens one eye to look at you lazily, chest still heaving lightly.
“You're welcome, Suguru. That is what a real considerate roomie does,” you tease as you straddle his lap, leaning forward to leave soft kisses over his pecs. Your arms rest on his shoulders as you move up to his neck, biting and sucking on his skin.
“Mmh… you’re so fucking cute,” Suguru huffs as he brings his hand up to your face, guiding you to look up at him, “fuck...the things I want to do to you.”
“What do you want to do to me?” You question as you take his thumb in your mouth, sucking on it lightly before releasing it.
“This,” he says as he wraps his arm around your waist to scoot you up till your chest is flush against his, pulling you in for a kiss. The kiss is hungry, passionate and desperate and your arms wrap around his neck and you moan into his mouth when you feel two of Suguru's fingers glide over your folds to part them.
“... and this,” he mumbles between kisses and you feel him graze his tip near your entrance. He pauses briefly as he pulls back from the kiss, “Where do you keep the condoms?”
You shake your head no, “birth control,” you mumble before pulling him back in to continue your kiss. You're pretty sure you feel his lips curve up in a smile briefly before he shoves his tongue into your mouth.
His hand is quick to reposition his dick, lining it up at your entrance as his other hand wraps around your waist to lift your hips up slightly.
Your pussy flutters in excitement when his tip enters your hole. He breaks the kiss to look down where your bodies meet, placing both his hands firmly on your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he guides your body down onto him slowly.
You whimper as you feel his fat cock impale your walls, resting your forehead against his shoulder while your hands caress his biceps. When he's filled you up to the hilt, he holds you steady, letting you adjust to his size.
“Sugu–”
“And this,” he whispers as he lifts your hips up with ease before slamming you down onto his cock in one swift motion. Your nails dig into his skin at this and you scream his name, your brain going numb when his pace fastens.
“Yes yes, right th– ahh,” your voice is slurry as you bite into the skin of his shoulder to keep yourself from losing your sanity completely– as if that were still an option.
“S-stop squeezing me so tight,” he sighs when your walls twitch around him. You bury your face into his neck, whimpering at the sensation as his tip kisses the right spot each time he shoves deep into you.
Suguru loosens his grip around your waist as he slows down and it's only then that you realise just how tight his hold was. But the thought slips your mind just as quickly as it arrives when he lies you down till your back is on the mattress with him on top of you.
With his dick still buried deep inside you, he readjusts your legs to hook them over his shoulders and folding you in half as he towers over you.
His lips meet yours as he pins your arms down to your sides, intertwining his fingers with yours. It's a simple act but it has you feeling butterflies in your stomach.
“I want you…” he bites your lower lip lightly before releasing it, “...so bad...”
You hum into the kiss at his sweet nothings, not really being able to focus on the words he's spilling between kisses. You feel lightheaded – the way he kisses you softly is soon contrasted by the rough thrusts of his hips as he begins to pound into you mercilessly.
You cry against his lips as tears escape your eyes at how deliciously he's filling you up. Suguru kisses your cheek hastily before moving down to your neck to decorate your skin with his markings.
“Oh–mmph– god, Suguru,” you sob as he picks up his pace. You feel your mind going blank with each thrust – in that moment, you have nothing in your thoughts expect for Suguru and his cock.
Your moans get a pitch higher when he brings a hand down to play with your clit. It's the tipping point for you when his fingers and dick work in unison to bring you closer to your release.
You feel your pussy flutter around his length and he groans into your neck once again. He knows he won't last much long so he maintains a steady rhythm, rubbing your clit in a way that's eliciting a chain of lewd moans from you.
Your body convulses violently, his body weight on top of yours holds you in place as you reach your orgasm. Within seconds, you hear him hiss cusses into your ear as his dick twitches inside you and his cum paints your walls. Your vision gets blurry and you close your eyes, your breathing gets ragged as your body melts onto the bed and you’re pretty sure you would've passed out if not for Suguru’s sloppy thrusts coming to a gradual stop. He slides your legs down his shoulders gently and you let them slump to the sides.
“Baby, you good?” His breath fans your face and you look at him with half-lidded eyes. You let out a tired chuckle at the concerned look on his face. You simply nod at him as you slowly bring your hands up to hook them around his neck, playing with the hair on his nape.
“Let's get you cleaned up,” he kisses your nose, “then you can rest all you want.”
You pull him in for a lazy kiss and he obliges, wanting to relish in this moment a little bit longer.
~
You don't remember how you fell asleep but when you wake up to the almost blaring sound of your doorbell ringing, you find your body impossibly closer to his. Your face is almost buried in his chest with your arms and legs tangled with his, caging you into his whole being.
You pull away softly, wondering how you even managed to fall asleep in such an awkward position. You lean forward to kiss his forehead but move back in a haste when you hear the bell ring again, quietly getting out of the bed.
Putting on your pants and t-shirt, you make your way out of your room and to the main door.
Your surprise is evident on your face when you spot Marco standing in front of you.
“Hey…” you greet him, already feeling a weird sense of embarrassment creeping over you.
“Did I wake you up? I thought you’d be awake by now,” he checks his phone for the time.
“No… I slept in a bit since I couldn’t fall asleep after watching that scary film,” you confess, your brain working in full force to come up with the right words to break the news to him.
He's still standing in the doorway since you haven't really invited him in so he tries his best to do some damage control, “Are you upset about yesterday? I'm sorry for kinda bailing on you last night.”
Right, if Marco had been there for movie night, you wouldn't have called Suguru when you felt alone and scared. But it didn't matter much as what had happened since was way more intense than your fuck buddy missing yet another movie night.
Before you have a chance to speak, you hear a voice from behind, “Oh, no worries, you weren't missed.”
You turn to see Suguru walking towards you shirtless, in only his sweats. It wasn't out of the ordinary for Suguru to be so unwelcoming towards Marco but what surprised the guy were the hickeys on your flatmate's chest on full display.
And if Marco wasn't smart enough to connect the pieces together already, Suguru snaking an arm over your waist from behind and leaving a quick peck on your cheek, all while wishing the guy a ‘good morning’ was enough to make everything crystal clear.
You give Suguru a side eye as you chuckle nervously, “Suguru, please give us a minute.”
“Ok, don’t take too long, baby,” he slaps your ass playfully but his eyes stay on Marco, almost taunting him with a cocky smile.
When Suguru walls back inside, you scratch the back of your nape awkwardly, “Sooo…”
“It’s fine, whatever. I just wish you’d told me about it before I embarrassed myself like this,” Marco shoots back, trying not to sound bitter but failing miserably.
“I’m so sorry. You have nothing to be embarrassed about… I'm the one who should be embarrassed,” you ramble as you observe his face for a change of expressions, “Would you like to come in?”
“Doubt that's a good idea,” his tone is cold.
“Right… are we cool? No hard feelings?” you ask.
“Nah, we were just fucking, that’s all– just don’t expect me to keep on being your friend now.”
“Oh, okay, I wasn't going to… guess this is it then?” you speak just as formally, getting slightly annoyed at his entitled tone.
“Yeah,” he lets out a dry chuckle before curtly nodding and leaving.
You close the door and swiftly walk to where Suguru is sitting on the sofa. He's grinning at you, extending an arm out towards you.
“Don't even try! I'm so embarrassed…” you scold him, “I wanted to break it to him gently!”
He simply shrugs before motioning you to get closer to him. You roll your eyes but nonetheless obey as you move closer till you’re standing in front of him.
You cover your face with your hands, your muffled voice speaking, “That almost felt like an awkward breakup that 12 year olds have after calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend for a week…”
“Good… you can't be having two boyfriends at once,” he snorts as he wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer, resting his forehead against your belly.
You grab him by the hair to pull his face away gently to look him in the eyes, “Wait, you want us to date?”
He nods as he chuckles at your surprised reaction, “You really are a clueless one. Yes, I want us to date… besides, I don’t just let random hookups squirt on my face.”
You shove his face away as you groan in embarrassment, “Stopppp.”
“Never. That was the highlight of the night for me– second only to the way your pretty little cunt fluttered around my dick,” he pulls you closer to kiss your belly from over the fabric.
“Suguru, you have such a dirty mouth,” you push him away but he doesn't bug, further tightening his grip on your waist.
“It’s cause you like it dirty,” he pulls you down till you’re straddling his lap. You giggle when his hands move under your t-shirt to flick your already hardened nipples.
You hold onto his shoulders as you move closer to close the gap between your bodies as you kiss him.
“So?” He moves away to kiss your cheek, “Go out…” another peck on your nose, “...on a date…” next on your jaw, “...with me?” before kissing your forehead lovingly, “Please?”
You pull back to ponder over the question for a moment and the familiar butterflies reappear.
“Okay,” you nod, blushing as he nuzzles his face into your neck, “I'd like that a lot.”
“Okay… celebratory sex.” he exclaims as he bites your skin, making it tingle.
“No! I’m really sore!” you complain.
“Just one round, I'll be gentle,” he presses.
“Have some mercy on your poor girlfriend!” you coo as you lean back.
“Not if you talk like that… you’re only gonna make me hard,” he chuckles as he rubs his thumb over your bottom lip.
“Suguru!” you pout. He laughs as he leans forward to give you a quick peck.
“Ok fine… then, breakfast?” he asks and you nod. You hook your legs around his waist as he gets up with ease, making his way to the kitchen. You giggle when he squeezes your ass as he walks.
“Don't think you’re getting off that easily. I'm only letting you relax now so that I can fuck you later after our date tonight,” he places you onto to kitchen counter.
“Ah, so considerate!” you roll your eyes before kissing his cheek, your fingers tracing the outline of his chest gently. Your eyes meet and you stare at each other in silence. You crinkle your face at how cheesy the moment seems, splaying your palm over his face to break his intense gaze.
“Fuck– are you sure… at least just let me eat you out… nothing else,” he groans and you feel his dick poke against your inner thigh.
“Suguru!” You complain but you break into a fit of laughter at how adorable he seems like this, a side you hadn’t seen before today.
“Okay, okay, fine!” He rolls his eyes before cupping your face, “one kiss and then I'm gonna make you something delicious.”
“Sure,” you laugh before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for another heart-fluttering kiss.
~fin~
#erensbirdie#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsukaisen x reader#jjk#geto x reader#geto suguru#geto x you#geto smut#jjk geto#jujutsu geto
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Official Teaser: Rain Lilies
Pairing: idol choi beomgyu x fem!reader Genre: soulmate au, strangers to lovers. (more to be added)
Fate gifted everyone a divine connection—their other half, or what everyone calls; soulmate.
Yet here you are, well into your quarter-life, still the lone spectator in a world paired off. Everyone around you seems to have found theirs effortlessly—some even childhood friends, high school classmates or randomly bumping into each other at a local grocery store.
Sitting at parties surrounded by lovers, a silent third wheel at movie nights, the friend holding the camera at weddings—your hands are always... alone in the spaces where others are full.
Were you an error in the grand scheme? An anomaly? A glitch in the unforgiving script? Or maybe, he simply doesn’t really… exist.
That’s how you ended up here, standing beside your korean-pop-obsessed friend who practically dragged you out and swore you’d love the show. It all became a blur when your eyes met his.
He’s on stage, gripping the mic impossibly still, staring down back at you like he feels it too.
It can’t be real.
He shouldn’t be real.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/658186986a3c340af07f82b40220f093/bfb1cf41dcaaf53b-2a/s540x810/484cac4f597ebf63e94885d9b2725fa70b28f59b.jpg)
RELEASE DATE: FEBRUARY 14TH, 2025 12AM MST.
1/5 part of the valentine event with talented moas! see the full masterlist here.
Taglist: Open! Let me know if you want to be tagged.
#rain lilies#˚₊ · ➳ ❥ fleur de destin#txt#txt x reader#txt imagine#txt imagines#tomorrow x together#txt x y/n#txt x you#txt fluff#txt fic#txt fanfic#txt hard thoughts#beomgyu#beomgyu x reader#choi beomgyu#beomgyu txt#txt beomgyu#choi beomgyu x y/n#raya's teaser#choi beomgyu x you#choi beomgyu x reader#tomorrow by together#beomgyu x female reader#beomgyu x you#beomgyu x y/n#beomgyu moodboard#beomgyu smut#beomgyu fic
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ceilings
genre/tags 𝟅𝟈 childhood friends to lovers, best friends to lovers, college au, mark lee x fem!reader,
word count 𝟅𝟈 4.1k
NOT PROOFREAD
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
You sit cross-legged on the couch in your dorm, a half-empty mug of coffee going cold on the table in front of you. Your laptop is open, the beginnings of a lesson plan appearing on the screen. Across the room, Mark is sprawled in your beanbag chair, a stack of notebooks and his own laptop scattered haphazardly around him.
“Remind me why you picked education again?” he teases, spinning a pen between his fingers.
“Because I like helping people,” you say without looking up. “Unlike you, who’s clearly just here to take up space.”
Mark laughs, the sound comforting and familiar. “Yikes. I’m just saying, you’ve been staring at that screen for, like, two hours. Are you actually working, or just writing your name in different fonts?”
You roll your eyes, finally glancing over at him. “Some of us don’t have the luxury of slacking off, Mr. Communications Major.”
“Hey, excuse you,” Mark says, sitting up a little. “I’m a communications major with a business minor. Very serious stuff.”
“Right,” you deadpan. “I’m sure the world is just desperate for your next paper on influencer marketing.”
He grins, leaning back again. “You know it.”
The conversation feels like a warm blanket, familiar and comforting. You’ve been best friends with Mark since third grade, and moments like this remind you why. No matter what life throws your way, he’s always been there—ready with a joke, a smile, or a friday-night movie marathon.
Still, lately, things have felt off… different. You hesitate, tapping your fingers on the edge of your laptop.
“Mark?”
“Hmm?” he says, not looking up from the YouTube video he’s somehow roped into his “studying.”
“You know Jaemin, right? From my educational psych class?”
Mark pauses the video, his brow furrowing slightly. “Yeah, I know him. Why?”
“Well…” you trail off, suddenly not sure if you should tell him. “He asked me out yesterday.”
Mark doesn’t react immediately, his face carefully neutral. “Oh. What’d you say?”
“I said yes.”
Mark’s jaw tightens imperceptibly before he nods, forcing a smile. “That’s cool. Jaemin’s… cool.”
“You really think so?”
“Yeah, sure,” he says, a little too quickly. “He’s nice. And, you know, he’s on the soccer team. Everyone loves a soccer guy.”
You tilt your head, watching him cautiously. “You’re being weird.”
“I’m not being weird,” Mark argues, shifting his position to cover his fidgeting. “I’m happy for you, Y/N. Really, I am.”
You squint at him, unconvinced, but let it go. “Cool.”
The rest of the evening passes in a strange kind of silence. Mark cracks a few jokes here and there, but the usual ease between you feels just a little strained.
Later that night, as you lie in bed staring at the ceiling, the soft whirring of your fan lulling you into a tired state, you can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted. But what—and why—you can’t quite figure out.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
A month later, you and Mark find yourselves in your favorite spot off-campus, a cozy little café that’s been your special place since freshman year. You’re sitting by the window, sipping a caramel latte and doodling on a napkin while Mark devours a bagel like it’s his last meal.
“I’m just saying,” he says between bites, crumbs and seeds scattering all over the table, “professors shouldn’t assign group projects if they know people like Yuta exist.”
“Not this again,” you groan, half-laughing. “What did he do this time?”
“What didn’t he do?” Mark gestures dramatically. “He wrote a single sentence and called it his ‘contribution.’ I’m carrying this guy through college, Y/N.”
“Maybe he’s just shy,” you suggest, smiling at your best friend’s complaints.
Mark shakes his head, pointing at you with a crumb-covered finger. “No, no. Shy people at least pretend to help. Yuta just disappears.”
You laugh, the sound bright against the low hum of the café. Moments like this remind you why Mark is your favorite person.
Which makes your next suggestion seem obvious—at least to you.
“You know,” you say, swirling your spoon in your cup, “you should hang out with Jaemin.”
Mark freezes mid-chew, his eyes widening slightly. “What?”
“You and Jaemin,” you repeat. “I feel like you’d get along. You’re both funny and laid-back, and you like soccer.”
“I don’t like soccer,” Mark says flatly.
“You played soccer in high school,” you counter.
“Because my mom made me,” he argues, setting his muffin down. “And no offense, but I don’t think me and Jaemin would get along.”
“How do you know?” you challenge, leaning forward. “You’ve never hung out with him. He’s really nice, Mark.”
Mark’s expression shifts, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “I’m sure he is,” he says carefully. “But… why are you so set on this?”
“Because you’re my best friend,” you say simply. “And he’s… my boyfriend. It would just be nice if you guys were friends, too.”
Mark looks at you for a long moment, his jaw tightening slightly before he nods. “Okay,” he says finally. “If it’s that important to you, I’ll hang out with him.”
You beam, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “Thanks, Mark. It means a lot.”
He forces a smile, but as he takes another bite of his muffin, you notice the way his shoulders tense.
And for the second time that week, you can’t shake the feeling that something is off.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
Mark adjusts his hoodie for the third time as he steps into the campus rec center, wondering how mad you’d be if he flaked on Jaemin. He spots him right away, standing by the basketball court with a bright smile on his face, spinning a ball on his finger effortlessly.
“Mark!” Jaemin calls, waving enthusiastically.
Mark forces a grin and waves back, shoving his hands into his pockets as he approaches.
“Hey,” he says.
“Glad you made it,” Jaemin says, tossing the ball to him. “You play, right?”
“Uh, not really,” Mark admits, catching the ball awkwardly.
Jaemin chuckles, his tone warm and friendly. “No worries. We’ll just shoot around. Nothing serious.”
They step onto the court, and Jaemin immediately starts talking, filling the space with his easy energy. He’s exactly how Y/N described—friendly, funny, and genuinely likable.
“So, Y/N told me you guys have been friends forever,” Jaemin says, making a shot effortlessly.
“Yeah,” Mark replies, dribbling the ball and taking a shot. It bounces off the backboard, and he winces. “We grew up together.”
“That’s awesome,” Jaemin says, running after the ball. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a friendship like that. She talks about you all the time, you know.”
Mark swallows hard, his throat tightening at the thought. “Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah,” Jaemin continues, passing the ball back to him. “She says you’re, like, the best person she knows. Always there for her.”
Mark forces a smile, the comment accentuating the already heavy weight on his chest. “She’s pretty great herself,” he says, taking another shot. This one goes in, and Jaemin claps excitedly.
“She really is.” Jaemin says, smiling softly.
As they continue playing, Mark starts to feel a strange mix of guilt and admiration. Jaemin is genuinely a good guy—there’s no doubt about it, and he obviously cares about Y/N. But every time Jaemin mentions her, Mark feels like he’s been punched in the gut.
“So,” Jaemin says after a while of playing, leaning against the wall to catch his breath. “What do you think of me?”
Mark nearly chokes on his water. “What?”
“Come on,” Jaemin says, laughing. “I know you probably weren’t super excited about this. Y/N might’ve had to twist your arm a bit. So, what’s the verdict?”
Mark hesitates, running a hand through his hair. “You’re… a good guy,” he says finally.
Jaemin raises an eyebrow, grinning. “That’s it?”
Mark shrugs, forcing his hands to stay placed firmly on the ball, needing something to ground himself before he shouts his feelings to the world. “Y/N thinks so, and she’s usually right about people.”
Jaemin chuckles, his expression softening. “She’s something else, huh?”
Mark nods, his throat tightening again. “Yeah. She is.”
Jaemin leans back against the wall, tossing the ball between his hands. “I don’t know what I did to deserve her, honestly. She’s just… amazing.”
Mark doesn’t respond, forcing a smile, his chest aching at how easily Jaemin says the words Mark’s been too afraid to even think about out loud.
“Anyway,” Jaemin says, breaking the silence. “Thanks for hanging out. I know you probably had better things to do.”
“Yeah, no problem,” Mark replies, his voice quieter now.
As they step back onto the court to finish their game, Mark tries to focus on the sound of the ball hitting the floor, anything to distract himself from the guilt gnawing at him. Jaemin is exactly as Y/N said—perfect. And yet, Mark can’t shake the heavy, unspoken truth weighing on his chest.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
The Friday after Mark and Jaemin’s basketball game, Mark sat on your couch, scrolling aimlessly through his phone while you organized your notes at the dining table. It was a typical evening—quiet and uneventful—but something felt off. Mark had been acting strange ever since his hangout with Jaemin, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was lying to you about something.
“Hey,” you called, your voice cutting through the silence. “You’ve been weird lately. Is something wrong?”
Mark didn’t even glance up. “I’m fine,” he said curtly.
You frowned but decided not to push. Instead, you tried to lighten the mood. “So, Jaemin was telling me about this soccer game next weekend, maybe all three of us could —”
“Do you talk about anything but Jaemin?” Mark snapped, his voice slicing through you sentence like a blade.
You froze, staring at him in confusion. “What?”
“You’re always talking about him,” Mark continued, setting his phone down with more force than necessary. “Jaemin this, Jaemin that. Do you even realize how much you talk about him?”
Your confusion quickly turned to anger. “Mark, what’s your problem? You’re the one who’s been acting all weird, and now you’re getting mad at me for talking about my boyfriend?”
Mark stood abruptly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Forget it. Just forget I said anything.”
“No,” you shot back, standing too. “You don’t get to yell at me and then walk away. What’s going on with you?”
“I said forget it, Y/N!” Mark shouted, his voice louder than you'd ever heard it before.
You took a step back, a pang hurt flashing across your face. “Fine. If you don’t want to talk to me, then don’t.”
For a moment, Mark’s expression softened, guilt and regret flickering in his eyes. But he quickly hardened again, grabbing his jacket. “You know what? I won’t.” Without another word, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
You stood frozen in place, your chest tight and tears pricking your eyes. You'd argued before, sure, but this time felt different—more real. You sank onto the couch, mind racing with questions you didn’t have answers to.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
During the days following the argument, you tried to go about life as normal, but Mark’s absence hung over you like a dark cloud. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong. Jaemin was the first to notice.
The two of you were sitting on a park bench after grabbing coffee, the late afternoon sun casting warm light over the pond in front of them. Your barely touched your drink, gaze distant as you stared at the ducks paddling by.
“You’ve been quiet lately,” Jaemin said gently, voice soft, as if he was afraid of what he was about to say.
“I’m fine,” you replied automatically, though your voice lacked any sense of genuineness.
Jaemin tilted his head, studying you with a soft, understanding look. “You don’t have to pretend with me, you know.”
You sighed, shoulders slumping. “Mark and I had a fight. He’s been acting so weird, and I don’t know why. It’s like he’s mad at me for something, but he won’t tell me what.”
Jaemin hesitated, his expression thoughtful. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you sure you don’t have feelings for Mark?”
Your head snapped up, your eyes wide in surprise, looking at her boyfriend, shocked. “What? No. Of course I don’t. He’s my best friend.”
Jaemin didn’t say anything right away, his gaze steady but kind. “Listen,” he began carefully, “you’re a great girl. Really. But... I think you might care about him more than you realize.”
You shook your head, a pit of dread bubbling in your stomach. “Jaemin, I—I like you. I do.”
“I know,” he said softly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “But not the way you like him. And that’s okay.”
Tears stung your eyes as guilt washed over you. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do this to you,” you whispered.
“Don’t be,” Jaemin said, placing a reassuring hand over yours. “You can’t help how you feel. And honestly? I think you should talk to him. Figure it out.”
You sniffled, giving him a small, watery smile. “You’re too nice, you know that?”
Jaemin laughed, leaning back against the bench. “I know.”
Despite the weight of their conversation, you felt a strange sense of clarity. You didn’t know what you were going to say to Mark, but for the first time, you knew you had to try.
You left the park bench with a renewed sense of purpose and a goal, to talk to Mark.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
Jaemin was lying on your bed, legs stretched out as you paced back and forth. You had been trying to contact Mark for days—texts, calls, voicemails—but every attempt was met with silence. And it was driving you crazy.
“I don’t get it,” you mumbled, frustration and sadness evident in your voice. “He’s never acted like this before. We’ve argued before and we always made up, but now... now he’s avoiding me like I’m some kind of plague.”
Jaemin watched you, a quiet understanding in his gaze. He could tell how much it was bothering you, even though you were trying your very best to hide it.
“You’re not giving up, are you?” Jaemin asked, leaning forward slightly.
You stopped mid-pace, looking at him with a mixture of exhaustion and annoyance. “I don’t have a choice, Jaemin. He clearly doesn’t want to talk to me. Maybe I messed up, maybe I pushed him too far, but he’s not responding.”
Jaemin shook his head, his smile soft but firm. “Don’t give up on him, Y/N. You love him, and he clearly feels something similar for you. Maybe he just needs a little push.”
You sigh, sitting down beside him on the bed. “I just don’t know what else to do. It’s not like I haven’t tried.”
Jaemin paused for a second, a glint of mischief creeping into his eyes. “Well, what if I told you I had a plan to make him face you?”
You raise an eyebrow, skeptical but curious. “What?”
He grinned, clearly proud of himself. “I do. But you’re gonna have to trust me on this one.”
You frowned but nodded, trusting Jaemin more than anyone else. “Alright, what’s the plan?”
Jaemin leaned in, his voice lowering to a whisper as he began to lay out the details of his plan. He knew it was a little underhanded, but if it meant fixing things with Mark and you, he was willing to take the risk.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
A few days later, Mark was hanging out with his friends Haechan and Chenle at their usual café. He had been avoiding you, and it wasn’t because he wanted to. The guilt gnawed at him every time he saw your name pop up on his phone, but he didn’t know how to fix things. Every time he thought about talking to you, he freaked out, not knowing if he could handle being rejected by you.
“Man, you’ve been really quiet lately,” Haechan said, nudging Mark’s shoulder. “What’s up with you?”
Mark shrugged, not meeting either of their gazes. “Just… tired, I guess.”
Chenle raised an eyebrow. “Tired? Dude, you’re literally doing nothing. Just hiding out at home all day.”
“Yeah,” Haechan added, “and avoiding Y/N. Come on, what’s going on between you two?”
Mark stiffened, his heart skipping a beat at the mention of your name. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, his phone buzzed. A new message from Jaemin.
Hey, man. I need you to do me a favor.
Mark hesitated for a moment before replying, his fingers hovering over the keys. What’s up?
I need you to meet me at the park in 30 minutes. Trust me, it’s important.
Mark frowned, sensing something was off, but he couldn’t figure out what. Okay, fine. I’ll be there.
He shoved his phone back into his pocket, barely noticing Haechan and Chenle’s knowing smiles.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
When Mark arrived at the park, he found Jaemin leaning against a bench, looking unusually serious.
“Why’d you need me to meet you?” Mark asked, crossing his arms and trying to hide his nervousness.
Jaemin smiled mischievously for a split second, but then he stood up straighter, his tone firm. “I’m going to help you fix things with Y/N.”
Mark blinked in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
Jaemin exhaled deeply, looking Mark in the eye. “Y/N’s been acting weird. Because you’re avoiding her. And I get it, man. I really do. But you’re hurting her by not talking to her. And she doesn’t deserve that.”
Mark felt a pang in his chest, guilt flooding his mind. “I know, but it’s complicated…”
“Complicated or not,” Jaemin interrupted, “you can’t just leave things like this. You’re her best friend, Mark. You mean everything to her.”
Mark’s throat tightened, his hands trembling slightly. “Why do you care? She’s your girlfriend.”
Jaemin’s expression hardened slightly. “Actually, she’s not. You’d know that if you answered her calls.”
Mark’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “What?”
Jaemin sighed, “Listen man, I like her, I do, but she doesn’t feel the same. We broke up. And now I’ve been trying to help her contact you. You’re hurting her a lot by ignoring her like this.”
Mark groaned, feeling a sense of disbelief that your ex-boyfriend was currently trying to convince him to confess his feelings to you.
Jaemin ignores the clear shock on Mark’s face, pulling out his phone and smirking. “I’ve been talking to Haechan and Chenle. They’re on board with this. We’ve already arranged it. You two are meeting up, whether you like it or not.”
Mark’s eyes widened as he realized Jaemin had masterminded the whole thing. “You… you told them?”
Jaemin gave him a pointed look. “I did. And you’re gonna thank me later.”
Before Mark could protest any further, he heard your voice from behind him. “I’m here.”
Mark turned around, his heart pounding in his chest as he saw you standing there, looking as nervous as he felt.
Jaemin stepped back, a sly grin on his face. “You two figure it out. I’ll leave you to it.”
As Jaemin walked away, Mark stood there, unsure of how to approach the situation. He wanted to run, but Jaemin’s words echoed in his head: You can’t just leave things like this.
You looked at him, eyes filled with uncertainty, and Mark’s heart sank seeing your disheveled state. He had to fix this. And he was going to try, no matter how scared he was.
Mark stood frozen for a moment, staring at you as you approached. His heart hammered in his chest, and all he could think was how easy it would be to turn around and walk away. To just disappear before this moment could get any more uncomfortable. But as much as he wanted to run, he couldn’t. Not when you had been so patient, so understanding—he owed you this conversation.
“Mark,” You called out softly, your voice hesitant but steady.
He exhaled, pushing the thought of escape aside, and turned to face you. You looked just as uncertain as he felt, and it made the guilt rise within him all over again.
You silently walked to a nearby bench, and Mark sat down first, his hands gripping the edge of the seat as if it could anchor him to reality. You sat beside him, her posture stiff, like you were preparing for some awful outcome.
After a long pause, you broke the silence. “Why have you been avoiding me?” you asked, voice a little softer than he expected, clearly you were nervous.
Mark felt his stomach drop, a wave of regret crashing over him. “Y/N, I…” He ran a hand through his hair, avoiding her gaze. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I said that. I just… I was confused. I’ve been confused for a while.”
You frowned, clearly still unsure of where this was going. “Confused about what?”
“I—” He cut himself off, trying to find the right words. He didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to risk ruining their friendship, but there was no other way around it. “I’ve been in love with you, Y/N. For a long time now. And I didn’t know how to deal with it. So, I tried to ignore it.”
Your breath hitched, and you turned your head to look at him, your wide eyes betraying her mask of calmness. “What?”
“I didn’t want to ruin our friendship,” he continued, voice thick with anxiety. “I was afraid that if I told you, you’d never want to talk to me again. And I’ve… I’ve been avoiding you ever since, because I thought if I just stayed away, it would be easier.”
You shook your head slowly, eyes glistening as you processed his words. “Mark… you’re my best friend. You should have told me.”
“I know. I should have,” he muttered, feeling even more ashamed. “I messed up. And then I lashed out at you, and that was stupid.”
You sigh deeply, and then, surprisingly, smile softly at him. “It’s okay, Mark. I get it now. I don’t know why it took me so long to realize it, but I was just too scared to admit how I felt.”
Mark’s eyes widened. “Wait, what do you mean?”
“I mean,” you continued, your voice trembling a little, “I’m in love with you, too. I just didn’t want to mess things up, either. I didn’t want to lose our friendship.”
Mark’s heart skipped a beat. He blinked at you, his mind racing to process your confession. “You… you love me?”
You nodded slowly. “Yeah. And I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. I’m sorry I acted the way I did and I’m sorry for always bringing up Jaemin around you, I just—”
Mark could feel the weight of it all crashing down on him. His chest tightened, and the guilt that had been gnawing at him for weeks was replaced by a rush of clarity. He couldn’t let this moment slip away, not after everything the two of you had been through.
Before you could say another word, Mark reached out, cupping your face gently with his hand. He leaned in and kissed you, his lips pressing against yours with a softness that made your heart race.
Your eyes widened in surprise, and you pulled back slightly, voice shaky. “Oh my god.”
Mark chuckled softly, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t wait any longer.”
You blinked, still processing everything. “I… I didn’t expect that.”
Mark smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I wasn’t planning on it either. But I guess it was time for me to stop being an idiot.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re not an idiot, Mark. You’re just… well, maybe a little bit. But I’m glad we’re talking about this now.”
He nodded, his smile growing wider. “Me too. And, uh, I guess we can’t just go back to how things were, right?”
You grinned, your eyes twinkling. “Yeah, I don’t think we can. But I’m okay with that.”
Mark took a deep breath, feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “So, what now?”
You thought for a moment before shrugging. “I think we should just… figure it out. We already know each other so well, so maybe it’ll be easy.”
Mark grinned, feeling a warmth spread through him. “Yeah, I think we can make it work.”
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
AUTHOR'S NOTE 𝟅𝟈 omg another fic we cheered. thank u to the like 20 people who like my writing i really appreciate it. lmk if you have any requests pls
masterlist.
#jaeyunluvbot#kpop#nct dream#nct 127#y/n#college au#mark lee#lee minhyung#mark#neo culture technology#friends to lovers#maybe angst#happy ending#jaemin#chenle#lee haechan
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Care less
for the frat!peter girlies.
Peter blames his aunt.
May went and raised him to look forward to the middle of february. She would make little boxes and handwritten notes tied up with a fun-sized candy bar. May told him it was a day to celebrate love in its entirety. For a friend, for a teacher, for just the sake of love existing everywhere you went.
Except, not everyone likes valentine's day. Some even hate it. Some would loathe the day so much that Peter feels like an idiot for caring. Dinner reservations that were going to be ignored, flowers that would go wilted and chocolates that were never going to get eaten.
Peter has a handful of nothing and the one time he really wanted to outperform himself, it was brushed off and it was his aunt’s fault for getting his hopes up about valentine’s day. He had been so thoughtful too, planning weeks ahead to book a dinner slot and a fun date. Not to mention the mini fortune he spent on roses, not that you were a giant fan of roses but every girl deserves a bouquet on valentine’s, even if they triple in price. Peter even bought a second bunch of your favorite kind, just to prove he cared.
It meant nothing. His efforts meant nothing and maybe he shouldn’t have assumed, but he never thought that you’d hate the holiday. It was a day entirely built around feelings, around love- and you just rolled your eyes at him.
“I fucking hate valentine’s day.” You said it like it was nothing, taking two bites of a banana and handing it over to Peter. He asked if you were excited, maybe even hinting at that you should be excited. Peter Parker was about to romance the hell out of you. But not anymore.
“Explain that one for me?” A toss, the peel falls into the trash can. You shrug as if you’ve never thought about it before, but it’s something you’ve held in your chest for as long as you can remember.
“It was a holiday created by girls who didn’t feel loved enough by their boyfriends, or something. I think the practice is stupid, you should treat me good and do nice things for me everyday, not just once a year. And everything is crowded! Everyone has the same lame idea about dinner and a movie and flowers and… it’s just not something I buy into.”
Peter feels every bit of him curl up and die inside. Valentines is his third favorite holiday, he adores the pinks, reds, and purples. He loves seeing couples of every stage, the beginning stages or lifelong partners. They all love the same; with everything in them.
“Well, actually, I do have a confession. Chocolate covered strawberries. They’re outrageously expensive, but I buy them every year. If you’re wondering, I was hoping we could boycott the baby holiday and eat some strawberries or something.”
A small lift in his heart, it’s something. You’d be happy with one thing and he could deliver that, but first he has to try and sway you, right? Peter needs to preach what valentine’s is about, he needs you to understand how lovely it is.
“I’m surprised you hate it so much. I figured you’d love it, since it’s pink and feelings, and stuff.” You wink at him, you think it’s a joke and Peter’s in the same boat as you. “I know, right? It always seemed so gimmicky to me, I think.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s bad.” You pretend gag, Peter feels his heart sink into the hollow of his chest. “You’re right, it’s cringy and that makes it so much worse.” Peter doesn’t agree, not even in the slightest. Nothing about it is cringy, there’s nothing embarrassing about showing you love someone.
“Right. It’s cringy and a gimmick and everyone who participates is stupid.” Maybe he’s a little cynical, it hits harder when you nod with exaggeration. “So glad you agree, petey!” He doesn’t. Peter couldn’t be further away from your opinion but he’s really not in the mood to be shut down or judged, so, he just changes the subject and tries to ignore everything crumbling apart in the back of his mind.
“Isn’t this cute?”
You squint your eyes when you read the card, a tiny smile shows. “It’s cute. Not worth…” You snatch the glorified cardstock and flip it, your eyes widen, you pretend to choke on the dollar amount. “Ten dollars, holy shit. For some glitter? Fuck that.”
You want it out of your hold, scared that if even a speckle spread you’d be forced to buy it. “What happened to the good old days of making your own card? My mom used to eat that up.”
Peter delicately sets the card down, he tries to see it how you do, but he can’t. Sure, it’s wildly marked up, but wouldn’t your partner be worth the price? Peter would buy the moon for you if he could, a ten dollar Hallmark card won’t be his holdup.
But, maybe you’d like a handmade one more. He can do that.
Peter’s trying to be mindful of your opinion while also planting the seed that valentine’s isn’t all that bad into your brain. It’s days away and all he can hear in the back of his mind is ‘I fucking hate valentine’s day.’
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Peter- do you fucking see this?”
A romantic gesture? A public display of love and admiration? Dozens of carefully inflated heart shaped balloons? A girl crying into the arms of her friend while her partner showers her with flowers. Is it the love? Is that what you’re pointing out?
“Yeah, it’s-”
“Disgusting.”
“-cute.” Peter frowns, is that what you really thought of valentines? Nothing was swaying your mind, Peter thinks that you’re more solidified in your mindset than before.
“I’m sorry, trouble, but I’m finding it hard believing you hate valentine’s day.” It’s like he just called you a slur, you pull your hand from his and stuff it into your jacket pocket.
“I don’t hate it, I loathe it. What do you see watching that? Personally, I’m seeing gravel covered flowers and wasted space that turns into deflated balloons. Fuck that.” Peter shakes his head, you’re seeing it wrong. “It’s about the gesture.”
“It’s about how you love someone so much, there aren't enough things in the world to buy to show it, and there are never the right set of words to say it quite right. I’ll buy all the flowers in the world for you, and I’ll use all the air in my lungs for these balloons but it’ll never match the love I have for you.”
Peter clears his throat. “That's what I see, anyways. I think valentine’s day is an excuse to be a little cringy and basic because we all want that sometimes.” He might’ve finally broken through, but you crack a grin and bump your shoulder into his.
“Ah, yes, because I’m so unfulfilled that a man has never gotten me a teddy bear for valentine’s day.” Would you want one? He could get you one. Or could that be a reason you might detest the holiday, not that he’d ever take your opinion for resentment or bitterness.
“Have you ever had a valentine?” A small stumble, your hand is tied into his again. “Besides elementary, nah. And honestly, I should be happy so I don’t have to deal with all that stuff.”
‘I should be happy so I don’t have to deal with all that stuff.’ But, now you do, don’t you?
“Trouble, you do realize you’re my valentine this year, right? And I’m yours?” You feel your breath catch, no, you hadn’t realized. It’s always just been another day for you and you assume the same for Peter, it’s not like there was much to celebrate.
“It’s also just a day that ends in Y.” Is that really the answer you have? It’s just another day to you, even if you finally have someone to claim? You might not care about the holiday, but Peter does and he’s going to get his valentine’s day, no matter what.
And you’re going to enjoy a handmade card.
And a teddy bear.
Peter’s finger-combing his hair after a shower, he’s had the reservation for weeks, but he also wasn’t aware of your detestment towards red hearts and arrows.
“Wanna grab some dinner wednesday?” If he didn’t say it by name he’s hoping you won’t scream bloody mary on him. “Sure.” A smile washes over Peter’s face, it drops in a second. “Wait, isn’t that valentine’s day? Ha, yeah, no thank you. You, me, and the entire city? Fuck that.”
‘Fuck that, fuck that, fuck that.’ Weeks boiled into nothing. “But, if you wanna cuddle and watch a movie I’m down.” It’s something. He’d get to give you flowers and a card and a teddy bear and he can’t forget the strawberries. You told him you loved them.
“Good with me, trouble.”
Peter tried to sway your mind, he tried to make you enjoy the love and glitter and colors. But you hated it all. So all he has to do is ditch the flowers and the dinner and just… do nothing.
Peter’s first real valentine and all he has to do is… nothing.
Three rose bouquets tossed onto his closet floor, it was haphazardly done. Petals scattered around the cellophane, some even reached to his shoes. They were thrown in without care, they were hidden.
But they were beautiful. A few front buds have taken a beating, but the others were fully blossomed and lively. You’ve never seen roses in such a vivid red, their petals almost like velvet under your fingertips, their smell unlike any other.
The thorns have been expertly shredded, nothing but smooth, soft stems in their wake. It doesn’t matter if Peter didn’t mean to have you see them, they were too gorgeous to leave locked away in a dark room. They deserved the affection water and sunlight would give them.
You clutched all three in your arms, the weight welcomed. You laid them out nicely across his bed, the third bouquet dropped a small card and you picked it right back up.
‘Trouble-
This day was made for you.
Charlie’s at 8.
Yours,
Peter’
You bit back a smile. Charlie’s? It’s nice, too nice. And expensive. Peter got you reservations at Charlie’s? Holding the card to your chest you nearly squeal, you have no idea how he kept the secret from you. Or the roses.
When you hear his bedroom door open you spin, waiting for him to be in the doorway so you can place a thousand kisses. Instead it’s Ethan and he looks surprised. “You’re here?” He points to the flowers, “Peter gave you those?”
“I found them in his closet, he just tossed them in here! And he must’ve forgotten to tell me about Charlie’s.” Ethan doesn’t smile with you, he’s not sharing any joy. For a second you start to wonder if you were the person who was supposed to receive the gifts.
“He didn’t forget.” You scrunch your face at him, “I think he did and I need to start getting ready now. Ethan, do you know how nice Charlie’s is? It’s fucking fancy.” You’re not prepared, you don’t have anything that screams Charlie’s worthy in Peter’s closet.
“No, you’re not hearing me. There is no Charlie’s and there weren't supposed to be roses. I was supposed to get them before you got here, but, here we are. No roses and no Charlie’s.” You smack at his arms, pulling at his fingers to drop your flowers.
“They’re mine!” Ethan’s on a mission to steal them, and he’s not being gentle.
“No, you didn’t want them.”
You watch him for a second, how could he say that, of course you want them. Thirty six reminders of Peter, how could you ever say no? You fight for what's yours, Ethan allows you to keep one bouquet.
“I do want them!”
Ethan’s not being nice to you tonight, he’s gruff with his response. “No. You didn’t.’
“You keep saying didn’t! I never said I didn’t want…”
Except you did. Just like you said you didn’t want to get dinner with Peter. You feel terrible, you feel like crying. He’d had this planned for weeks and the whole time all you did was poke fun and degrade the holiday not knowing you were crushing him behind the scenes.
You wanted the flowers, but you didn’t deserve them. You hand over the last bouquet silently.
“I think it’s best if you pretend you didn’t see these.” You can’t imagine the ache Peter must have in his chest, he planned something out just for you to stomp all over it. It’s not about the value, it was the gesture. He can’t tell you how he feels, but taking you out to one of the nicest places in the city, where you know it has a month minimum reservation list makes you understand him just a little bit better.
“This is so bad, Ethan. This is so,” you suck in air, “so bad.”
“It’s not terrible,” a crinkle when he shifts weight. “But it’s not great.” You wince, if you could, you’d go back in time and shove your foot in your mouth, or tell yourself to shut the fuck up.
“Well, I mean, what the fuck?! It’s fucking Peter! How was I supposed to know he was pro valentines day?”
“How was he supposed to know you were anti valentines day?”
You sink to the bed and hold your head in your hands, “I just want Peter right now.” You want to hug him and kiss him and tell him how sorry you were. Ethan hesitates for a second, before stepping closer to lay the flowers across your lap.
“You found them. They’re yours.” You protect them from being taken, but still have self-pity. “I don’t deserve them.” Ethan scoffs, “of course you do. Everyone deserves pretty flowers.”
You pout at yourself in the mirror and fix any smudges. Brushing out any stray wrinkles your newest dress might’ve made on the way over. Ethan had very kindly instructed a pledge to pick you up an outfit so you could change before Peter got back.
With minutes to spare, he’s back and taking a deep breath at your appearance. “Wow.” A surprised hum when you kiss him, you wipe red from his bottom lip while you apologize. “I’m so sorry, petey.”
“For what?” A look around the room, red roses give him the reason. “Oh. Hey, it’s no big deal and I-” A frown when you silence him by holding a finger to his lips.
“I’m sorry. I found those flowers and all I could think about was you and how much it meant to me that you got those for me, then I saw the card and I couldn’t believe you got us reservations and I just felt… special. I’ve never had a valentine, but I get it now. It’s just a day you get to dote on me extra hard.”
Another surprise kiss, “and if you didn’t already cancel I think we can get to Charlie’s on time. But if you did, that’s okay. Because I think those are the most lovely flowers I have ever gotten, and I might have seen a little teddy bear in there but I didn’t wanna get too presumptuous.”
This time, Peter kissed you. “There’s also a homemade card.”
“You didn’t!” You fall in closer to his chest, his hands can have free reign tonight, you wore the dress just for him.
“I did. I even wrote a little poem.”
A chaste kiss, “just when I think you can’t get better.”
“There’s also glow in the dark mini golf planned for after.” A peck, “so thoughtful and handsome.”
A whisper, he’s got blown pupils and hoping he’d get another kiss. “And your strawberries are in the fridge.”
Your hearts about to explode, “fuck, I love-” you stop yourself, but you heard it and so did Peter. He brushes it off, “love?” Fuck it, you’ll both keep circling around it.
“Yeah, I love love.”
A hungry kiss, a squeeze to the back of your thighs. “Yeah, I love love, too.”
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4 Minutes and the Cinematography of Nipples
I said before that I thought 4 Minutes was pretty instantaneously the best looking BL on the market for 2024 after one episode. Which, not gonna lie, is a pretty big fucking claim. There’s been a lot of BL that’s come out that’s looked good, and I do think there’s been a steady improvement overall in the market in the last few years. Personally I think Japanese and Korean BL have a stronger production quality over a majority of Thai BL but like, if that’s a hot take I guess I prefer my food spicy.
The point being~ if I’m gonna make such a hyperbolic statement, well I better back it up right?
So I’m gonna break down a few scenes from the first episode, what I liked about them, why they worked for me, and why on a technical level I think 4 Minutes has just got it going on.
For better readability you can also check out this essay here.
Sidenote: my google docs kept trying to autocorrect “Bible” to “the Bible” and idk how to teach google I mean the hot Thai actor and not the book of Jesus.
To start, I’m going to break down this scene featuring Great and his nepo baby cat:
I thought starting with this scene would be good because it’s such a low-key scene and honestly making these simplistic scenes visually interesting is very difficult! But if you have the basics down, the foundations of cinematography and film making, these simpler scenes can be really memorable.
Like yeah we’re all gonna remember this scene because shirtless Bible and oh my god Akira!? - I have only recently learned who Akira is; why is this cat getting a bigger bag than me? - but beyond that, what makes it cool to watch? What makes it interesting? What information does it showcase to the audience?
One thing I added to the video was a grid for the rule of thirds.
Rule of thirds is a shot composition technique applied to both film and photography. It’s the grid you see if you film a homevideo and helps a Director and Cinematographer figure out where to place the subject or subjects of the shot. The idea is the gridlines show you where you “should” place the subject(s) of said shot.
Like everything, the rule of thirds is a guideline in filmmaking, not a hard and fast unbreakable rule. Filmmakers like Wes Anderson like to play more with central composition shots, rather than ROT.
Anyway on to the opening shot, right after our credits and we’re moving into the shot.
To start, the first thing I notice is the scene’s color grading. Color grading in film is the manipulation of raw film footage to create specific color tones throughout a project. Sometimes this grading is more pointed and obvious, think The Matrix, while in other films it’s not as obvious but still very prominent, think Killers of the Flower Moon.
It’s not that the before credits scene looks entirely, jarringly different from the opening scene, but the hospital scene is surrounded by whites and blue tones, it’s darker, and only a single source of light exists. It gives the entire scene a much more frantic, uneasy aesthetic but it’s not so far off from the darker muted tones of the next scene that it feels jarring or out of place.
The second big thing I noticed in the episode is the use of aspect ratio. I’m not 100% sure what aspect ratio the production used exactly, but the use of widescreen as opposed to full screen in my opinion, gives the episode a more cinematic feel to it in comparison to other Thai BLs.
Example, if you look at Century of Love (2024) it appears to be filmed in the standard full screen - which I believe is 16:9? - while 4 Minutes is widescreen (thus the black bars at the top and bottom). Widescreen can give a show a more “movie like” quality to it which is part of the vibes I get from 4 Minutes.
(source)
Onto Great’s actual introduction scene.
We’re not starting the shot with static movement, but with a camera panning right. I’ve talked about camera panning and such in BL before and it’s something I’ve found doesn’t happen as often as it should. Which is a shame! It’s such a simple technique but it adds so much.
Imagine if we entered the frame with a static center shot, and then a cut to Great sleeping and turning off his alarm clock, and then another cut to above the bed. Think about how much more boring that could be visually.
Instead, we enter the scene with movement, panning over and creating some interesting visual framing.
So here’s our opening shot, do you notice anything interesting? To start, what I like about this shot other than the panning movement in, is that we don’t see Great’s face yet. In fact we don’t see his face in full until about 30 seconds into the scene. This builds anticipation, yeah we all know what Bible looks like, but for the audience who doesn’t this helps build anticipation.
Who is this character? What does he look like? What’s his deal?
It also engages the audience more, if you notice part of the composition of the shot has Great in the mid-ground slightly blurred out, while the foreground emphasizes the things on his desk. He’s distant from us, the audience, sleeping off his hangover not yet ready to “join” the world yet.
Here’s another two more things I like about this shot:
Lines.
Using lines and shapes can make a scene more visually interesting and invoke different feelings to the viewer. In this shot, I get a sense of symmetry, the camera panning right, lightly drags across the screen alongside the lines below and above Great, almost creating a frame within a frame effect. As if Great is boxed into a clock in and of itself.
You can also see the use of balance in the scene as well, connecting back to that visual theme of symmetry as well as blocking our view of Great’s face. The lava lamb and champagne bottle are almost the same height, which helps create balance in the shot. The champagne bottle informs us Great has been drinking or does drink since it’s positioned so close to his bed, whilst also continuing to hide his face away from the viewer.
I also like that the lava lamp is a bright spot of color. The tone of the scene is mostly muted greens, and gray, but the bright orange lava lamp and even the pink champagne bottle draw our attention but don’t overwhelm us either. It provides the scene with some warmth but doesn’t offset the overall tone of the color grading.
And then, the last bit of this shot:
We have Great knocking over the champagne bottom, and turning off his alarm clock. Notice that the alarm clock and the champagne bottle hit those ROT dots almost exactly. There’s also the use of lines by the length of Great’s arm - I just forgot to add a line I’m a failure, a fake, fml - we see him knock over the bottle, and then we follow the line of his arm directly to the alarm clock which is also a shape, a circle.
I like that they used a clock with a specific notable shape, since by the end of this scene the clock is relevant to the story as a whole. Using a shape makes the clock more visually noticeable and memorable to the audience.
So in the next cut we’re above Great - just like Great’s gonna be above Tyme, fuckin hell I’m corny - in a medium-full shot and there’s a couple things I really like here.
I really like the use of lines here with the bed going in one direction but Great’s body going another. It’s disconcerting, and off kilter a bit.
The use of patterns plus the opposing symmetry, whereas in the previous shot the lava lamp and champagne bottle were providing balance, here one side of the bed is patterned, while the other isn’t. This creates a sense of imbalance and makes the shot more visually interesting.
This medium-full shot at a high angle makes Great smaller, and continues to showcase his dishevelment, keeping him distant from the world itself. Also notice the lack of color here as well.
What could this say about Great as a character? Or his story?
So this next cut is the one that actually inspired me to write this essay to begin with and know what I’ma eat some crow here. I originally said it was a great ROT shot but I was wrooooooong. It’s definitely a center composition shot.
Notice as well, the bed itself is its own shape - rectangle - center in the frame, and yet the shot almost looks unbalanced again because of that singular patterned rug. It’s the only pattern in the entire shot, not even Great’s pillows have noticeable patterns on them.
The above view camera angle in a full shot creates almost an omnipresent feel, as if the audience - or something else? - were looking down upon Great. Whose face we still haven’t seen! It makes him smaller, less powerful, and almost vulnerable. Shots like this are often used in horror films like James Wan’s Malignant (2021) where the horror spector will be looking down above the would-be victim.
Another thing I like about this scene though is we have Great moving. It would be simpler and easier to have his phone just by his alarm clock, or under his pillow, but think about how much more visually interesting it is that he has to move down the bed and reach for his phone. It creates action in an actionless low stakes scene.
And now, 30 whole seconds in and we’ve finally seen Great’s face!
Fun fact, with the ROT grid the gridlines fall right across Bible’s nipples. That’s not a film analysis, just something I noticed entirely intentionally. Thanks Madam Director Ning Bhanbhassa Dhubthien.
The actual shot is in center composition again, as Great rolls over and reveals his face the camera begins to zoom in.
This creates movement in the scene instead of leaving the camera to statically observe it’s now, finally, inviting the audience to meet Great. Pulling us in towards him whereas before we were kept at a distance. Great’s awake and, well as ready to meet the world as somebody with a raging hangover can be.
I also like how Bible is moving constantly in this scene; he rubs his eyes and nose, he twitches his fingers, titles his head back and forth, etc it’s nothing revolutionary but it’s appreciated.
When the scene cuts, we get this shot:
I didn’t put the red dot on his nipple, it just landed there. This is all Madam Director Ning chepie.
But you can see how Great’s body is landing on all those gridlines pretty solidly. Also in the background we see his alarm clock again, a bright blurred circle in the distance. I also like the angle of this shot, as it creates depth in the frame, with Great’s head being in the foreground his lower body in the mid-ground and the background blurred out.
What follows is Akira appearing in frame. Which was really difficult to capture so I don’t have a screenshot. But what I really like is Akira entering the frame out of focus. They could have just cut to Akira, but instead they opted for Akira to enter the frame which is more interesting.
When we do cut, Akira is firmly on one of those dots so we don’t miss them in the frame. I think it’s also interesting that we’ve pulled out again, into a mid-full shot, hanging above Great, and we see that clear symmetry line again between the patterned rug and the regular carpet.
I also really love that when we got to Great sweet-talking Akira and feeding them we’re not just doing a cut, we’re panning downwards which continues to add movement to the scene. And we get that moneyed sponsor shot!
Durex can’t pay for everything okay?
So in the final bit of this scene we get focus on Great, who’s in focus, before he gets up and leaves the frame where the camera then focuses on the clock behind him.
See how in the first frame the background is all blurred out, but once Great walks out of the frame - again, great that he walks out, movement!! Y’all don’t understand how boring 1000 Stars was for me to watch because of the lack of this stuff okay? - and then the focus shifts to the clock. Which is round.
God I know that sounds so dumb, but imagine the clock without that ring light bit on it, it’s just a tiny little rectangle. Not as fun or interesting to look at right? Or as noticeable especially from a distance?
This shift in focus also tells us “this is important” whatever “this” is. The subject of the shot goes from Great to the alarm clock but they are positioned as equally important. We’re meant to pay attention to this seemingly innocuous item, which we learn later in the episode is time. We’re meant to remember and note that time will be important to the story - I know with a title like 4 Minutes you’d fucking hope time would be important but have y’all ever read Youtube comments? It’s rough out there for visual comprehension okay?
So all in all this scene is only 1 minute and 40 seconds give or take. It’s very short, but I don’t think it was boring at all. I think it’s a really solid introduction to a main character. Think, Korn didn’t get this much time to showcase his introduction, his scene is shorter - though also well done - which showcases which character is more of a story priority.
This scene eases the audience into the story, inviting us to wake up into the world like Great is. It uses techniques like lines, shapes, symmetry, color and focus to make what could be a very boring scene into an interesting one.
There’s so so much I probably and certainly missed, I’m far from an expert, but I hope I was able to articulate what I liked about this scene, and why I think it looks good.
Stay tuned for more if I can manage to focus long enough to breakdown more scenes lol
Also red dots on Bible’s nipples are just funny to me it be what it be.
Further Reading:
Composition in Cinematography / THE LAST OF US
Center-Framing vs Chaos-Cinema: Mad Max vs Transformers
Camera Framing: Shot Composition & Cinematography Techniques Explained [The Shot List, Ep 2]
The Ultimate Guide to Camera Shots (50+ Types of Shots and Angles in Film)
Color Grading 101 - Everything You Need to Know
Mixing Film And Digital Footage: Killers Of The Flower Moon
In Praise of Subtle Cinematography
#4 minutes#4 minutes the series#bible sumettikul#4minutes#jesbib#chaos pikachu speaks#pikachu's bl film series
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Miguel’s Reaction to You Taking Him to Watch The Barbie Movie
Warnings: Mainly Just Miguel Being Defensive, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Miguel Secretly Being a Barbie Girl, No Pronouns Used for Reader Except ‘You’.
Miguel loves you. So, so much. And he would move Heaven and Earth to ensure even an ounce of your happiness.
However, he is 100% convinced that this excursion, this ‘girls’ day out’, will be anything more than a mind-numbing jaunt to the cinema.
At first.
He can’t deny that his heart sank and all enthusiasm he held for your date drained from his body the second you said the words ‘Barbie’ and ‘Movie’ in the same sentence.
But alas, he swallowed his dismay and took you out, plastering on a thin smile while he thought of a million and one things you could both be doing besides watching this masterclass in colour theory.
Sat beside you, packed in on either side by yourself and the many other attendees, waiting for the film to begin, Miguel can feel his patience trying to escape, trying to convince him to run, to get out while you still can!
Because of his heightened senses, he can hear every single word passing between the crowd. And with every mention of “Pink”, “Ryan Gosling,” and “Margot Robbie!” he can feel his mind numb.
The film starts. And for you, sending a watery smile your way, while your eyes sparkle with nostalgic wonder, he endures.
Five minutes in, Miguel is assaulted by pink. The very essence of the colour and all its vibrancy sends hot pink pain through his skull, his senses raw.
Quietly, he slips his sunglasses on.
This is going to be a long movie.
And, for the first quarter of the film, Miguel held that notion. Near and dear as if it were the antidote to the current situation.
Then, halfway in, the story started to intrigue him.
The colour scheme is…tolerable now. Even pleasing to the eye in some scenes.
And, dare he say, Miguel found the music to be catchy.
Two thirds in and he’s sat forward in his seat, hands clasped and his lips resting atop them. Not that you can see, but his eyes are blown wide, his mind arace with possible outcomes.
By the end of the film, Miguel’s holding your hand, forehead pressed to your shoulder, a single, silent tear illustrating his cheek.
“Miggy?” you say, leaning over to try and see his face. You recognised the singular jutting of his shoulders immediately. And, with a smile teetering on the edges of your lips, you try to console him.
“Mig–”
“S’nothing. M’fine,” His cut-off is blunt and non-negotiable. You drop the subject and escort him from the screening by his arm, the music bright as the credits roll. The dimness of the room gives way to light, gradually, slowly. The streak of Miguel’s tear glistens.
Miguel’s visceral reaction to Barbie’s movie doesn’t stop when you get home, by the way.
It actually gets worse.
If you’re lucky, you can catch Miguel reading articles on his phone, an unmistakably pink banner and the title of ‘Top 10 Things You Missed in The Barbie Movie!’ leaving little to the imagination.
Confronting him about it will lead you nowhere. Miguel will sooner shove his phone up his ass and pretend it never existed than admit that he is indeed curious as to what happened to that one background character who fell off a cliff in that one scene. Is she okay? Does anybody know where she is? Does her family know?
The fact that you find his curiosity (empathy) endearing, ‘Aww’ing at him and pinching his cheeks, makes him ever the more secretive.
Just about secretive enough to keep his volume to a minimum when he’s singing; tunes which you know are from the soundtrack.
“I’m a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world~”
“Babe, what was th–”
“Nothing.” He’s blunt, but there is haste to his tone. Shame, even.
Occasionally, you’ll see him eyeing up Barbie-themed merch when you’re out shopping. But he never makes a move to purchase any. Not for himself, anyway.
He’ll buy you said merch – anything that catches your eye, your fancy. Even if it is a shirt ten sizes too big.
“Babe,” you say, pinching the shirt up at your shoulders, the fabric in enough excess to cause the neck to expose most of your chest. “I may be wrong here, but I’m fairly certain only you would be able to fit in this shirt.”
“Oh, well, guess I’ll just have to take it off your hands, then,” he says, his elation barely concealed behind his faux-disappointment. As if him doing so is a chore – that he’s doing you the favour by taking the garment whose shoulders could only fit his insane proportions.
Please just buy him the merch. Any shame he may feel upon initially receiving it will fade when he realises – when you reinforce – how his liking of Barbie is “Adorable, yes. But uplifting; it’s so relieving to see that you’ve found something you actually like that isn’t to do with the Spiderverse!”
“It’s actually called the–”
“Yeah, I don’t care, Babe.”
His favourite present you ever got him was a brightly-coloured exercise suit Barbie and Ken wore in the movie. He had to turn away, the fabric neon in his periphery, tears filling his eyes and balling in his throat when he saw that you’d bought a matching one.
“So we can fight crime in style!”
Miguel’s watery smile twitched, faltered. His Brow furrowed.
“Wait, what’s that supposed to mean?” he said. “You don’t think my suit’s fashionable?”
The way your face drained was enough to spark laughter in Miguel’s chest. His only line of defence against the tears that pricked his throat, played him like an instrument, with you as the orchestra’s master.
While he can’t wear the suit out on superhero duty, he does keep the headband on beneath the suit.
A reminder of you when he’s throwing himself at every threat, every monster, every evil, the band a halo hugged to his skin; a slim substitute for your warm touch, your scent, but a reminder all the same.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterpost
Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3
#miguel ohara#barbie#barbie movie#barbie 2023#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel o hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel ohara x you#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel o hara x reader#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 x you#across the spiderverse#spiderman#spiderman x reader#spiderman astv#spider verse
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I’m about to write an essay on the specific situation Miles is in as we set up for a third movie.
With great power comes great responsibility.
Not a single spiderman asked to be bit. No one planned to be spiderman. But, given the power to do so, they chose to become spiderman. Miles is bitten by a spider from a different dimension that was never meant for him. In that moment, two dimensions were doomed. One to lose it’s intended spiderman, and one to never have one at all.
But Miles’s New York isnt in a state of anarchy like Universe-42, where his spider came from. It’s relatively normal. It’s what we expect of Spider-Man’s New York. It’s not doomed.
Spiderman doesn’t choose to get powers. In any universe. But every spiderman looks at what he has and the world around him and does what he can do.
Miles is just as much a Spiderman as every other Peter out there. It could be anyone under the mask, should they chose to wear it.
He may have been in the wrong place at the wrong time but so was every other bite victim. This is not his fault. And it may take another watch or two for me to confirm, but I don’t think Miguel ever directly says something to blame miles as an actor in all this. Yes, miles is the linchpin. To keep to the canon web, miles should not have been bitten. The fault falls on happenstance, though it’s all too easy to pin on miles. But I don’t think Miguel ever says that. Miles shouldn’t exist. Miles is not spiderman, in Miguel’s eyes. But goddamnit he’s not at fault here.
I’m hoping Miles can take control of his own narrative. His entire character revolves around balancing the expectations of those around him while he tries to discover his own. His family, his school, living up to what spiderman is supposed to be. Even The Hole confronts him and demands he acknowledge they are nemeses, and upon being turned down, seeks vengeance and validation which is the catalyst for the movies major conflict. Ppl keep telling miles who to be. And in a universe where a kid got bit when he shouldn’t have, I hope he finds the strength to rewrite more shouldn’ts. Spiderman can do both. The captain doesn’t have to die. His relationship with Gwen Stacy does not end in tragedy.
EDIT: FUCKIN. IF THE CANON RULES ARE SO IMPORTANT. WHY’D JEFF DIE IN A UNIVERSE WITH NO SPIDERMAN? UNCLE AARON DIDNT HAVE TO DIE IN THAT ONE SO WHY DID THE CAPTAIN??? ANSWER ME THAT M I G U E L?????
#across the spiderverse#spiderman across the spiderverse#across the spiderverse spoilers#sats spoilers#spiderman across the spiderverse spoilers#spiderman
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Trailer park Steve AU part 19
part 1 | part 18 | ao3
November
As annoyed as Steve is to admit it, Dustin’s plan actually works.
(And he is annoyed, for the record. That little shithead should be glad he’s still grounded because Steve’s sorely tempted to invite him over just to give him a wedgie.)
Somewhere in the weeks following The Abduction Incident, he and Eddie become friends. Like, real ones. Friends who talk and laugh and shoot the shit in passing, who trade movies and mix tapes and ask each other if they saw the latest headlines in the morning paper.
They haven’t really had much chance to properly hang out, but Steve sees him most mornings, because he promised Wayne to keep making sure Eddie doesn’t sleep in on school days, and sometimes when they’re both around in the afternoons they’ll have a couple beers together, share a cigarette on the lumpy loveseat on the front porch of Eddie’s place.
And Eddie’s…
Eddie’s funny. Oddly charming. Theatrical and weird. Steve already knew that last part, but it’s so much better when it’s not being used as an offensive weapon against him. He likes being in on Eddie’s jokes.
Just plain likes Eddie, if he’s honest.
“Steve?”
Which should be crazy. It is crazy; if someone had told him a couple years ago that he’d be spending his free time with The Freak — that he would regret missing the guy’s Halloween show because of a Family Video shift, or that he would spend a week working up the courage to ask him if he wants to ride to school with Robin and him in the mornings? He probably would have kicked their ass for the mere suggestion.
But now he’s half-orphaned trailer trash who knows that monsters exist, so. Eh.
“Steve! Hello? Earth to Steve.”
Steve blinks, focuses on the fingers Robin’s snapping in front of his face. “Huh?” he asks dumbly.
He expects her to roll her eyes and pretend to chastise him with some butchered version of his name— ‘Steven Cardamom Harrington, were you daydreaming again?’ — but she just snaps her fingers again and begs, “A little help here? Please?” Her eyes are wide, her shoulder scrunched up to her ears with stress, and Steve realizes that:
a) he’s been staring blankly at a cart of go-backs for ten minutes instead of actually doing his job, and
b) the store is suddenly packed.
Friday night, and the rain that’s been hanging over Hawkins all week finally let up, so now everyone and their mother is apparently out running errands.
He moves to man the front desk because the line is almost out the door, and Robin buzzes around the room like a shaken can of pure panic, her bangs sticking to her forehead as she zooms up and down aisles with the restock cart. She keeps making crazy eyes at parents when they stop her to ask about new releases or the age-appropriateness of films, because the parents are distracting her from intercepting their little gremlin children, who keep putting movies on the wrong shelves on purpose just to piss her off.
“Dumbo! Does not go! In the horror section!” Steve hears her bark at a group of third graders, and he has to crouch down behind the counter for a second so she doesn’t see him laughing when she follows that up with a strangled, “Ugh!!!”
Okay.
Entertaining as this is, he’s not getting chewed out by Keith again for missing quotas because Robin blew a gasket and scared off all the customers.
“Hey, Rob?” he calls out to her as he hands a woman her change.
“What?”
“Go take a smoke break?”
He knows she doesn’t smoke. He also knows that sometimes rushes like this get to be too much for her — the noise, the lights, the chaos of a crowd (“the mouth sounds, Steve; good god, the mouth sounds”) — and she needs a minute or twelve to go stand outside in the cool air, flap her hands around and scream behind a dumpster or whatever until she calms down.
Her eyes flash at the suggestion like she’s about to snap at him, but then she takes a deep breath and marches herself out the back door without another word.
With Robin cleared out, the crowd thins out pretty quickly. Steve gets the line taken care of at a speed he’s definitely not getting paid enough to maintain, and the kids get bored of playing ‘rearrange the inventory’ and wander off to the arcade.
It’s sort of soothing, the mindless flow of it: scan, click, click, make change, “thanks for choosing Family Video,” print receipt, repeat. His mind wanders again as he works, but it doesn’t sink into its usual sludge of despair; doesn’t wail ‘house bills mom pills stress fuck-fuck’ like a tornado siren in his head until he gives himself a migraine.
No, he’s thinking about denim. About cigarette smoke.
Crooked smile; Chiclet teeth.
Patches and pins with strange names and stranger artwork.
And then he’s thinking about how this is the second time tonight he’s started daydreaming about Eddie and wills himself to knock it off.
What? The guy’s friendly with him a handful of times, and suddenly he’s, like, obsessed with him?
He’s not.
He’s not.
He's just… pleasantly distracted by him; that's all.
“Thanks for choosing Family Video,” he tells the last customers as he hands them their receipt. The second they turn to leave, he slumps over the counter with his head pillowed on his arms, a wave of exhaustion hitting him because holy shit that was so many people and thank god the store’s finally empty.
The bell over the door dings.
Goddammit.
Steve lifts his head, reminds himself not to scowl at paying customers because he really needs this job, but then—
“Eddie! Hey!”
—
part 20
tag list part 1 below cut let me know if you want to be added tomorrow
@heartsong18 @hellion-child @hiimlevi @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @questionablequeeries @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @shamelesspatrolshepherdcowboy @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @taleah-bonnick @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thespaceantwhowrites @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures
#trailer park steve au#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#my writing#my fic#steve is down ROTTEN lmao
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