#sorry for the EXTREMELY belated post

[cheolhub]

LOVE SCENE — LEE SEOKMIN ࿐

summary. you’re scared that seokmin might want to go separate ways after graduation, but he proves, in more ways than one, that he wants you. forever.

wc. 2.3k

warnings. college au. nerdy soft dom!seokmin, breeding kink xx, obscene amounts of dirty talk, pinch of angst, literal love making, unprotected sex, marriage kink, HEAVY praise, baby talk, v minimal plot im sorry — MINORS DNI 18+

note. DAMN ok i have a lot to say so i’ll keep it short. ONE this was a request but like i kinda didn’t do anything the request asked for and im so sorry, i hope u can forgive me anon. TWO i literally lost sight of the plot so dont ask me abt any missing details ehehb just enjoy seok being hot <3 THREE happy belated birthday to my minnie <3 FOUR thank u to my luvr @rkiv4d for beta-ing. yas ok enjoy

p.s. reblogs and feedback are extremely appreciated— i also love to hear ur thoughts <3

how seokmin pulled you, the most beautiful girl to ever walk the earth, he has no clue. he’s what people call a ‘nerd’ with his thick-rimmed glasses and his abnormally high IQ and you’re the pretty girl that didn’t understand the simplicity of covalent and ionic bonds who fell head over heels for him. 

you couldn’t help it, he was so smart and so fucking pretty. he was awkward and he giggled when he got nervous and he was so unbelievably goofy that it had you laughing till you cried. nevertheless, he was the most beautiful man ever. 

then you asked him out. he remembers it like it was yesterday. the last day of your chem class– the end of the first semester of your sophomore year– right after your final. you thanked him incessantly, giving him a hug for helping you get a B in the class. you told him you’d rather thank him another way— another way being a date. with you. at your place with a homemade dinner. 

he would’ve been stupid to decline. so he didn’t. and the rest was history. seokmin became your boyfriend, grew more confident in himself, and fell in love with you.

now you’re in your final year, the last few weeks approaching quickly, and you’ve been anxious. anxious about seokmin leaving you, anxious about going separate ways after graduation, anxious that this was all just fun and games till it was time to get serious about life.

seokmin has picked up on your behavioral patterns over the past 2 years. he knows you so well, probably better than anyone else in your life– probably better than he knows himself. 

so when seokmin sees you evading his eyes with his cock stretching you open, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“hey,” he whispers, stilling inside of you. when you don’t turn your head and your eyes are still closed, he calls for you. “baby?”

you feel your heart clench at the pet name. “hmm?” you hum.

“baby, do you not wanna do this anymore?” he questions worriedly, ready to pull away from you. “i can pull out.”

you mumble, “i-i do.” 

he cocks his head even more confused, “talk to me, pretty, what’s going on?”

he pushes into you some more, making you gasp and you can feel his expectant eyes burning holes into your face. you then realize he’s not gonna let this go, but it’s partially your fault for letting your mind wander while he was putting away the dinner you guys ate. you decide to just come out with it.

“‘m just… so scared of graduating…” you whimper between your words, eyes screwing tighter. 

he hums, “look at me, baby.” the demand comes out so soft, yet the sheer dominance of his voice makes you clench around him. you turn your head on the pillow, opening your eyes, and finally looking at him. “why?”

you shudder at the eye contact. he looks so pretty, so concerned over you, yet you’re still tense and oh-so nervous. the topic of post-grad has never come up, and now you’re mid-fuck about to tell him how you want to be with him forever. 

“i-i’m scared that… that you’re gonna go off without me,” you pant, hands wrapping around his biceps and holding him to keep you stable. 

“where am i gonna go, beautiful?” he whispers, bottoming out and fully sheathing himself inside of you. 

you whimper again, his massive cock filling you so well. “s-scared you’re gonna go do big things ‘n leave me…” 

he freezes at that, eyes widening, “leave you?” he asks incredulously as if he couldn’t believe that you’d ask that question. “baby, you think i’d leave you?” 

you nod slowly. “i dunno, ‘s just that i’ve been thinking ‘n you’re so smart– gonna go get a real job that’s across the country or something…” 

he’s honestly bewildered. why would you ever think something like that when he’s tried so hard to show you how much he loves you every single day?

“oh, baby, i would never fucking leave you.” he presses his forehead yours, nose rubbing against yours. “pretty fucking thing, i adore you— love you. more than anything.”

your eyes glisten with tears at the reassurance. you feel yourself relax under him, entirely fluttering at his words. “really?”

“yes, really. how can i prove it to you? want me to put a ring on your finger?” he whispers, breath fanning against your face. 

you gasp, clenching around him again, fingers digging into his muscles. he smiles, chuckling airly at your reaction. 

“my pretty baby wants that? you like that idea?” he asks, his sultry voice filling your ears. “you wanna be my wife?”

you nod your head, eyes fluttering shut as you moan, “yeah, w-wanna be your wife.” 

your response has seokmin reeling. he pulls his hips back and slams back into you making both of you moan again. 

“yeah? bet you want my kids, too.” he states boldly, mind cringing at his words and internally freaking out that you’ll get turned off at them. 

you choke, clamping tightly around his length. “f-fuck.” you cry. “d-don’t say things like that, seok.”

“why? ‘cuz i’m right?” he grunts, thrusts growing faster.

you nod your head and seokmin nearly cries, cock twitching at the idea of pumping you full of cum and getting you pregnant with his kids. you’d be such a great mom and he’d love having a mini-seok running around a nice, big house fit to take a family. 

admittedly, he’s been wanting to talk about his future with you. he’s been fantasizing about it since the first time he said he loved you. fantasizing about you being his wife and living together in a big house and having three kids and living happily ever after as if it were some fairytale. he’s imagined your kids and how they would be a constant reminder of his everlasting love for you. he hopes that they’ll look like both of you– kids with your eyes and his nose. he’d kill for that.

“wanna put a baby in you,” he mumbles, lips ghosting over yours. “swear to god, ‘m gonna give you everything you want– ‘ll get you a ring ‘n a house– everything. just say the word.”

you lift your head to press your lips to his, moaning into his mouth like a mad woman. your stomach drops in anticipation, suddenly craving the feeling of his warm cum filling you to the brim, sure to get you pregnant. your legs wrap around him, heels digging into his back and you can’t resist the cry that he ends up swallowing at the new angle. 

seokmin pulls back, panting, “gonna let me give it to you, baby?” 

“uh-huh!” you nod, eyes screwing shut and jaw going slack as his speed increases. “yes, yes, please give it to me.” your response is wavered as you nearly choke on a sob of pleasure. 

and you know the decision is haste– a baby even though you still have a month left of undergrad seems… absurd to say the very least, but you don’t need to think about anything. you know seokmin. you know he’s the one you want to spend the rest of your life with. he's an amazing boyfriend and person in general. you already know he’d make an even more amazing husband and father. 

who would’ve thought the nerdy man with glasses who was insanely good at chemistry would be the one you ended up with?

he lets out a guttural moan, “such a good girl, always saying please.” he praises, slamming into your sweet spot repeatedly.

and jesus fucking christ, your moans and cries are like music to his fucking ears. 

his head falls into your neck, licking and sucking at your skin. “never gonna leave, i promise. gonna make you mine, gonna take care of you.” he mumbles into the skin as he continues to mark and ravage you. 

the stimulation and his words are sending you into orbit as your stomach churns and tightens at the feeling of his cock rearranging your insides. his strokes are impressive, never missing a beat and unrelentingly hitting the spot that makes you crumble. 

he feels you tighten around him, gummy walls squeezing him in and he curses, “shit, is my pretty girl gonna cum already?” his voice borders on condescending, but it only makes the tightrope in your stomach all the more closer to completely unraveling. 

“y-yeah, so close,” you moan breathily as your pants increase, chest rising and falling rapidly. “so fuckin’ close, min, ‘m gonna cum.”

his lips find your ear and he whispers hotly against the shell, “come on, baby, cum for me so i can fill you up.” he gently tugs at your earlobe with his teeth and you can’t resist, back arching with a shiver running down your spine.

your orgasm brings you immense pleasure, white spots filling your vision as you cum with a loud sob. you feel it in your entire body, from your curled toes to your thrown back head. your eyes roll back, calling out his name and raking your nails down the skin of his arms. 

he coos, holding back a groan at the way you get even tighter as you soak him in arousal. “thaaat’s it, baby, just like that. so, so good for me.” he coaxes you through your euphoric high, fucking you through it as he always does. 

“s-so good,” you slur, parroting his words as your mind numbs a bit. 

he moans, letting the sound of your whimpers and the lewd sounds of your bodies meeting fill the room. he buries his head in your neck again, desperately rutting into you so he can let go, too. your eyes flutter closed again and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to you. 

your overstimulated pussy pulses around him as you listen and whine along to your lover's muffled moans. you can tell he’s close. so close to giving you the life you’ve imagined for almost 2 years. so close to being yours forever. 

“seok, cum inside me,” you whisper and his hips stutter, yet they keep moving as if they have a mind of their own. he lifts his head and looks at you– his eyes are clouded over and teary, yet they’re filled with all the love in the world.

he looks so beautiful above you. his face is scrunched up in pleasure, brows knitted, eyes droopy, mouth hung open as pretty sounds exit his loose lips.

“i… fucking love you…so much.” he says in between pants, thrusts growing sloppy. the telltale signs of his fast approaching orgasm becoming heavily apparent. “god, so much, baby, love you so much.”

you nod your head, mirroring his pleasured face. “me too, seok, i love you.” your words are a bit scrambled, but seokmin makes sense of them– understands you so well. 

his eyes roll back a bit at your response, brain momentarily malfunctioning, but he comes back seconds later. “gonna take this load like a good girl, right, pretty? gonna get pregnant and let me marry you?” he moans out breathily, cock now twitching uncontrollably. 

“yes, yes, yes, please, wan’ it so bad!” you beg.

it’s all he needs to press his hips to yours, stilling there, and releasing inside of you while he moans out your name so prettily. it’s a newfound feeling for both of you– his cum coating your cunt, filling you up till it’s spilling on his freshly washed sheets. he’s grown accustomed to finishing on your skin or into a condom, but this? this is all very new. this is something he now can’t live without.

you think the same thing when you feel him spraying your walls with his thick ropes of cum. it feels so good– so euphoric– while it’s leaking out of you. you don’t know how you’ve gone your entire adult life without experiencing this at least once.  

“c-came so much, baby…” you whimper, feeling him pull his cock out of you. 

as soon as he sees his release dripping out of you, he groans softly, already feeling hard again, but he decides to ignore it for now, bringing his attention back to you.

“hey… love,” he says softly, noticing the way you perk up a bit from your tired state just at the sound of your name. “you should’ve told me you felt like that… i hate that you thought i’d just leave you ‘cause we won’t be in school anymore.”

you frown, “i’m sorry, i didn’t know how to bring it up without being awkward… it’s the real world and i dunno… things are different.”

he sighs, hands running up and down your naked sides. “i get it, but like i said, i wanna be with you forever.”

you blush, biting your lip to hide the wide grin that ends up on your face despite the fact. “yeah, i remember… was that a proposal by the way?” you ask meekly. 

he squeezes at your waist, “did you want it to be?” he beams.

“i mean, it was a bit untraditional, definitely not how i expected my wedding proposal to be.” 

“what? you mean you didn’t think you’d get proposed to while i had my dick inside you?” he asks with faux incredulity. “i, for one, thought this was the best proposal ever. i even put a lil baby in you.”

you giggle, wrapping your legs around his body again, “you don’t know that, i’m not pregnant… yet.”

his heart swells at the idea and he smiles brightly at your blushy face, “well, maybe another round can change that, hmm?”

you pull him closer to you by the strength of your legs and say, “make me yours then, seokmin.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[alien-magnolia]

Mine and His <3

Fic Description: As a background type scientist, you aren’t very special in the world of Pandora. That changes, when you are noticed by Jake Sully, and fortunately, his rival, Colonel Quaritch. 18+ MDNI!!!

Tw: Implied non-con, power dynamics, dom-coded! Jake sully + Miles Quaritch, sub-coded hyperfem!reader, fingering, Jake/Quaritch talking down to reader/ bimbofication, ownership, major size kink bc human reader.

A/n: this turned out way longer than I thought, and I originally meant to post it on Christmas.its a bit hard for me to consistently post now. Anyways, merry belated Christmas/ holidays, and hope yall enjoy my first time bringing the very (hot) Miles Quaritch to life!! Don’t we love the balance between a young Jake Sully and an older Miles Quaritch <3 I am planning to make a part two with more intense smut! Stay tuned! (this was lacking a bit 😭) alsooo pls help a gorl out and reblog if you like this!!

The moon rose above you as you made your way to the forest, your mask in tow, and your boots. You were meeting Jake at the edge of the forest. He would not want you to venture in alone. Your tiny human form could not take it, as he would say. The Na’vi man was extremely possessive over you. The leaves rustled amongst the wind, bioluminescent crickets danced in the air.

You stand still as the ferns brush against your leg, wondering where your Jake was. You came to Pandora as a sort of background character — always behind the scenes, never noticed, usually brushed to the side. You were apart of the anthropological and religion team, researching and observing Na’vi culture, religion, and social relations and norms.

Every morning, you rose from your cold, metallic, cot, put on your oxygen mask, and worked at the lab from 8-5. Sometimes you would be invited into the community to learn, yet you never lingered around too long. The other scientists were more fluent in Na’vi than you were, and so, they would make a better impression.

It was only until one night, where the half-moon rose and shone over the sky, swirled as if it was cotton candy, was the night where you became noticed. You, made an impression.

~ Three months ago ~

You stayed to observe a Na’vi ritual, one called the “Sun Dance,” where one ingests a hallucinogenic worm in order to have a vision of their fate for the future, their destiny. This ritual served to breach the gap between the sacred and the normal, the ordinary, to alter reality in which a religion exists everywhere — not only in a book or a house. This was Na’vi religion — Animism.

You enjoyed the ritual and truly felt that you were starting to grow connected with the community. However, you were still a bit unfamiliar with the forest, and accidentally happened to wander onto a slippery log — that also acted as a bridge for a deep canyon below. Your tiny human feet stumbled across the bridge, and then slipped. You landed on your stomach, then realizing the vast canyon below — and that you would face sudden death if you were to drop into it. You screamed out in pain as a branch pierced your leg. You hear heavy steps behind you, you pass out.

You wake up beneath a bioluminescent large plant, with its long tendrils gently swaying over your face. You feel something on your leg, and look to see quite a handsome Na’vi man tending to your thigh, which had a large scrape on it.

“Hey. You’re awake. Almost fell there, girl.” You study his features a bit more. His hair is long, black, his eyes a deep yellow. Chiseled jaw, veiny arms, and wide shoulders <3 adorned with an interesting necklace. You muster the courage to speak to this beautiful man in front of you.

“Yes, I — um, sorry. I should have been more careful. I’m still a bit unfamiliar with the forest, although I’ve done many studies here,” you explain to him. “S’alright. I can take you back to your home base, if ya like,” the man offers, his tail swishing a bit. He must have been excited to talk to you. You blush at the note of attention from him, and agree.

The two of you begin walking back, the Na’vi man stopping momentarily to make sure there were no creatures of harm nearby. You learned his name was Jake. Jake Sully. You watch his long braid sway from side to side, like a pendulum, as you walk behind him. The two of you have been talking, sharing your stories, your journeys, what brought the two of you to Pandora, respectively.

“Was a marine, when I first came here. I was trying to pay for my surgery, to well — get my legs back. M’sure you know, the RDA loves screwing everyone over. ‘Specially me,” Jake explained to you, as he led you through the dark, softly glowing canopy of trees.

“So you weren’t very good at school, then, I assume,” you snicker, trying to poke a bit of fun at him. “And you are?,” he retorts back, emitting a deep hearty laugh, a sound you liked. “I do have a PhD, yes,” you giggle a bit as you look to see his reaction. He only huffs, yet you swore you could see a little smile behind that stoic face of his.

The two of you continued to walk back and engage in this somewhat flirtatious banter. He led you back to your lab, wishing you a goodnight.

“Jake, wait,” you touch his arm as he was about to leave, and he flinched, his ears folding back. He turns to you. “I would want to see you again. It would be nice, I think,” you offer, hoping he would take the initiative. “Hmm. Doubt it. You stay safe, miss PhD,” he retorts, and runs off into the forest.

Yet you wouldn’t take his “doubt it” for an answer.

The following night, you ventured again into the forest, hoping to find him. You might as well take a few pictures, hoping to find your way into the Omaticaya village. You did not find your way there, and instead ended up running into a few creatures. Jake saw, luckily, and saved your “prissy lil’ self” (as he called it) again.

Nights with Jake became a regular occasion. Although you and him had more of a fair share of differences, you found it to be true, that opposites attract.

————

~ Present Day ~

You smiled as you remembered how you first met him. The two of you only went on ‘dates’ together, where he would show you an interesting place he liked in the forest, or take you on a ride on his ikran. Nothing more, just conversation.

Yet, the more you got to know him, the more you wanted him. In a way that surpasses conversations or dates. You really had hoped that tonight, you could go further.

Everything about him was just perfect. His shining eyes, his strong arms, his beautiful voice that made you feel so safe <3.

You hear his footsteps behind you. “Babygirl. How’s my favorite scientist doing?,” he chuckles, his big hands gently gripping your face, giving you a kiss on top of your head. “Good,” you giggle, reaching up to give him a hug. You always have felt so safe in his arms.

“Where are we off to tonight?,” you curiously poke at him as he leads you over a bridge — the both of you hearing the gentle splash of the pond below. “You’ll see, hun. Somewhere real special,” he reassures. Where could this place be? How exactly could you get here, to be spending time with this beautiful Na’vi man, who possibly could be yours??

The anticipation was simply too much to handle. “Wanted t’a bring ya here, to ask somethin’. Was thinkin’ you see, that you could become a true member of the Omaticaya. Pass all our tests and all,” he says, while you lean your head on his shoulder.

You think on it for a bit. “But why, Jake? It would mean that I need a Na’vi body…,” you trail off. “Exactly. Ever since the day I met you, sweetie, I wanted you to be mine. You’re just too goddamn adorable for your own good,” he chuckles. “Can’t make you mine though, officially, without you becoming a tuté (woman) of our people. You will prove yourself to the Tsahik. We will mate, then. For life. You’ll be mine, girl,” he smiles warmly at you.

You agreed, overwhelmed with happiness!! “My Jake, why can’t we mate now?,” you ask, although as a Pandoran anthropologist, you knew the answer. Your human body was no match for his Na’vi strength. If you were to mate now, not only would it be against Omaticaya customs, his sheer power would most likely kill you!!

“Thought you knew the answer there, Miss PhD,” he teases. “How’s about this. I give you a little taste of what’s to come if you join the people of the forest,” his voice shifts to a deeper tone, his eyes a bit hooded now.

A large blue hand the size of your head gently grips your face, turning you towards him. His soft lips plant a few kisses on the top of your head, moving down to your neck. All of a sudden, your oxygen mask gets a little too hot for your face <3 your heartbeat quickens as well.

“Jake…I’d love nothing more than to join the Omaticaya,” you pant, in between breaths as he continues his ministrations. “That’s my good girl. See if those scientists of yours can make you an avatar. Want you to be mine,” he purrs, with a bit of a darker undertone as his large hands squeeze and grope the plush curves of your body — to the point where it’s painful.

You pant and squeal as his fingers trace patterns on your soft tummy, his large face planting a few kisses there as well. “Love this human body, babygirl. Bet your Na’vi one would be even better…,” he praises you. <3

His fingers were getting lower and lower, tracing circles on the hem of your waistband. “Jake…,” you pant out. “Want you…,” a cry, a plea for help. You had no idea how intense your fervor was for him, until now.

“Can’t give you all of me, hun. You can’t take me yet, m’ too big for you. Don’t want ta hurt your pretty little body,” he chastised you, his yellow eyes full of concern.

Just about when you were to agree, to let him give you a taste, that taste that you’ve been waiting for, that taste that your heart (and other parts of you) ached for, the two of you heard a rustling behind, in the bushes.

Out step two steel toed boots, a blue RDA uniform. At first you thought it was someone human — you were surprised to see that it was a Na’vi man wearing the suit. You quickly try to hide, using Jake’s wide chest as a safe haven.

Jake’s eyes burn with rage, disgust. His ears fold back, a low growl escapes his throat, his Adam’s apple moving slightly.

“Miss me, corporal?”

This man had a smug way of expressing himself, hands on his hips. He looked to be a bit older than Jake.

“Forgot about our agreement, all those years ago, Sully?” Jake hissed in response, telling this man, whom he called ‘Quaritch,’ to kindly fuck off.

Quaritch, a man of his word, did not take this as an answer, and continued to move closer.

Until he saw you. He stopped. “Whose this you’ve got here, corporal?” Jake hisses again, standing up this time to shield you from Quaritch. “Leave her out of this,” his tone low, possessive, angry.

“Why don’t you come on out, cupcake?,” his eyes turn towards you. Just like your Jake’s, you saw that they were full of lust, hunger. No affection, though. They were cold, empty. This man was attractive — yes, yet something about him felt off.

Jake reassures you that you don’t have to do it — until Quaritch himself pulls you out from behind Jake’s back. Quaritch circles you, tutting, eyebrows raised.

He turns to Jake. “Got yerself a sweet little toy, huh, Sully? My, my, she’s quite a looker,” Quaritch comments, his voice sickeningly sweet, as his large blue hand plays with your hair. Jake was fuming — ready to start a fight with the man. It was clear that the two had a past rivalry, and never made amends.

It was also clear that the two wanted you.

“How’s about this, corporal? Your little girl here, could very well seal our agreement, don’t ya think?,” he taunts Jake.

“She’s mine, Quaritch. Don’t even think about it.” Quaritch then retorted that it was either this, or his rifle. Jake then agreed.

“Glad we’re on the same page, Sully. She’ll be ours, to share, won’t ya, cupcake? How’s about I show you how we do things where I’m from, hmm?,” his southern accent cooing at you goes straight to your core, between your legs.

You glance at Jake, hesitantly watching. Quaritch then sits down, his giant arms pulling you into his lap, one hand behind your head, the other on your hip.

“Such a pretty girl. Gonna give you something to feel good about,” he chuckles, peppering your face and neck with kisses, his fangs slightly biting into your shoulder as you gasp!!

Jake is infuriated, still watching from the side, although he looks like he is enjoying watching you get ravished by the older Na’vi. Quaritch’s soft lips trail down your soft tummy and waistline, your small hand intertwined with his rough, calloused one.

His fingers trail your waistband — realizing that Jake already pulled off your clothes — your wetness soaked his thigh. <3

“Aww. How cute, pussy’s all soaked f’me. I think I know what she wants,” he taunts you, showing you his big fingers, almost the length of your arm. <3

You nod vigorously, completely forgetting about Jake. “Yes. Please, please, anything,” you beg him. “How’s about you call me sir, hmm, sweet cheeks? More fittin’, don’t’cha think?,” his southern voice drips as if it were melted caramel, seeping through to your inner submission to these beautiful, tall, men.

You were their toy, theirs to own, theirs to play with, theirs to use as they please and see fit. That’s all you could think about, as your tongue hung out, your eyes closed, small hand gripping the watch on Quaritch’s hand, as his two fingers worked and massaged your gummy walls over and over.

You thought of belonging to the two Na’vi men, passed around from the loving arms of your soon to be mate, to the vicious and unrelenting force that was Miles Quaritch, your ‘sir.’ For these two men, you were fine with leaving your life as a scientist behind, just to trail them around.

You were giddy with the thought of it, as you came undone around Quaritch’s fingers, his reassuring words, “let go f’me, cupcake…,” and Jake’s hands behind you, rubbing the small of your back, this was a taste of a life you never knew you wanted.

Now that you had this taste, you were ready to risk it all to keep this.

You fall asleep in Jake’s arms, as Quaritch bids him a ‘till next time,” and your soon to be mate is left wondering what that phrase entails.

Avatar taglist: @aerangi @jake-sullys-whore @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @brioffthegrid

[belaephemeral]

of flesh and bone, thunder and lightning

Pairings: Wanderer x Reader (gender-neutral) 

This oneshot will refer to Wanderer as “Scaramouche”. Feel free to replace this with the name you chose for him as you read!

Summary: Every gesture, touch and action that you share with him is something that you will always treasure. From the way his eyes securely lock onto yours, like two puzzle pieces falling into place, to the fingers that interlock with yours, like threads of an interwoven tapestry of adoration that perfectly weave together; it simply just isn’t enough. But what you always desire for are the kisses that are oh so characteristically him. You yearn for the invigorating way it nourishes and rejuvenates the ardour that blooms in your heart whenever he conveys his endearment through a loving and intimate embrace. 

Word count: 3000

Author’s Note: Happy belated White Day everyone! (I meant to post this earlier but I had a presentation and a mock exam. Sorry for the wait!)

(PS: I named Wanderer “sayang” [“love/darling” in Bahasa Malaysia] because I couldn’t think of a name that would fully reflect his personality and what he means to me. I will always refer to him as “Scaramouche” so, I gave him a cute pet name! Though I was extremely compelled to call him baby girl. Haha, let me know what you named him!)

From the moment of his conception into that hollow, artificial shell to his current incarnation as the enigmatic, wandering wayfarer, the former renowned Balladeer isn’t well versed in the language of intimacy. In fact, he is rather perplexed with your inherent fluency in it. 

One evening, he found you peering over his shoulder as the clouds soared overhead and the ink of nightfall spilled onto the expanse of sky that hung over your forms. “What do you want from me?” he inquires brusquely, inexperienced with the notion of being inextricably tethered to someone. A connection forged by the countless moments you have shared together, the numerous battlefields you have both emerged victorious and triumphant from as you stood over the bodies of your enemies, and the several occasions he’s learnt that he could tolerate your presence and the serene silences that envelop you both after a tiresome day. “Do enlighten me as to what you are thinking - though I can’t guarantee I’ll retain interest in this conversation if you simply wanted to engage in small talk.” As expected. There’s that honest and straightforward reaction that you’re well acquainted with and a familiar demonstration of his infamously sharp tongue and blunt remarks. 

Absent-mindedly, you gingerly draw the pressed hems of his white collar closer to the centre of his chest, your hands slowly reaching towards the various embellishments that adorn his body and minutely adjusting them to their rightful place. Scaramouche notices the way your brows knit together, as though you were slightly vexed by the mild breeze prior that put them into a state of disarray and disturbed them from the rich cobalt and baby blue fabric that they were fastened to. 

Inquisitively, his orbs observe your movements, waiting for your next words. He  waits with the patience you would never have been able to rouse within him when you initially met. Gradually, your eyes meet his, and you struggle to conceal the beam that threatens to spill onto your face. The expectant look that glazes his features and the way your hands smooth out the folds of his signature attire reminds you of your various encounters with the felines you’ve run into throughout your journey. Resisting the urge to ruffle his hair just as you did with the inky-black shorthair you met a few hours ago, you tilt your head up to peer into his dark pools of purple and whisper, just loud enough for him to catch your words amongst the whistle of the wind and the howl of the approaching night: “The sun is setting; shall we retire for the night?” 

Scaramouche isn’t used to physical displays of affection: your touch makes him flinch momentarily, but his muscles relax as your presence permeates into him and your delectable scent renders him defenceless. Simultaneously, his thoughts are occupied at the irony of how you intend to maintain his aesthetic integrity despite the grime and dust that speckles his pristine ivory outfit and the minuscule crimson cuts peppered onto his smooth and unblemished pale skin. 

Continuing your tentative ministrations, you gaze into his dark indigo orbs, which are flecked with specks of aquamarine and royal blue - you gaze into them as though you’re searching both for an answer and searching for a glimpse into what could possibly run through that inquisitive and yet tranquil mind of his. 

Abruptly, his head snaps away from yours, the ornaments adorning his body twinkling as he does so. He exhales, releasing a sound that, to an ordinary passerby, verges a fine line between mutual amiability and absolute contempt. In reality, he uses the derisive scoff that escapes him to try and conceal the flush that creeps along the apples of his cheeks and flourishes to the tips of his ears. Slowly, he closes one eye and snidely peeks at your form with a timbre full of mirth and he softly purrs: “Hmm? What, you can’t fall asleep with me around? And here I was - assuming you had something important to tell me. Well, despite expecting more, I guess it can’t be helped.” A glint of playfulness flashes onto his crystalline orbs. Candour laces every sentence that leaves his mouth but his words betray the way he unconsciously beckons you ever closer to him to witness the stars string themselves into constellations before your very eyes.

“Well, if it is ever anything about you, it most certainly is important to me.” The former Fatui Harbinger isn’t as sly as he thinks he is - your perceptive gaze catches traces of the pink that dusts his bewitching visage and the slightest dilation of his obsidian pupils. After he finally unravelled the persona he had skillfully hid underneath his artificial facade, you revel in the way your closeness flusters him and you relish in the way you are the only person he’d traverse these lands with to find his true identity and meaning in his newfound life. 

“It’s astonishing how you can utter that without an ounce of shame. I guess it’s by your nature - fortunately your fighting capabilities and, well, decent appearance compensate for your rather brazen personality.” 

With an astounded gasp, you lightly swat his shoulder, earning the faintest snigger from the male. Eyes glinting with mischief and a subtle smile curled with mirth, he observes you once again chuckling exasperatedly at his antics. “Well, excuse me for caring about you - aren’t you freezing in that outfit? At this rate, you might catch a cold.” As the moon rises, the temperature slowly depletes. The chill of the wind bites into your skin but Scaramouche seems unfazed by it - he, in fact, basks in the gusts that periodically billow by. His brows are no longer furrowed and his jaw unclenches, content with the way the breeze tousles his deep purple tresses and causes stray strands of hair flutter against his face.  

Gently, you slink your arms around his shoulders, your fingers drawing nonsensical shapes on the nape of his neck. “I need to have my sparring partner in tip-top shape. Nursing you back to health is not something I want to add to my itinerary - you should be well-aware that my schedule is completely full.” You add haughtily, his teasing remarks spurring you to counter his verbal advance with a challenge of your own. “And I’ll have you know that in the time it will take for you to recover, my combat proficiency will certainly surpass yours in no time. If that’s the case, then I assume that you want to lose to me again?”

“Why you-” his head dives forward as he launches an attack on your jugular. “Rest assured, I do not have a delicate constitution, unlike those other ordinary mortals.” As he buries his nose into your collarbone and his digits trace your ribs and waist, you convulse with laughter as his touch dances against sensitive parts of your upper torso. Your hands attempt to resist his ministrations, but his physical strength overpowers you, not that you were putting much of a fight in the first place, and you’re stupefied by the teeth that unexpectedly graze your clavicle and leave the affected area tingling with electricity. Audaciously nipping your neck as you titter, he softly murmurs against your skin: “I’ll let you stew in your victory for today, koibito, but I’ll have you know that I do not intend on losing - must I remind you of who remains the reigning champion in all of our duels?” 

Averting your head away from his firm grip, you blow a raspberry, sneering smugly at him: “Sure, call it whatever you want Scaramouche - construe the indisputable fact that my talents and ability outclass yours, which obviously excels way beyond your current capabilities, into whatever palatable narrative that will satiate you. Just accept your defeat already.”

His eyes catch yours and one of the corners of his mouth lifts upwards, just enough for you to notice the glint of his boyish fangs. “Oh, koibito, you’ll renounce those words once I conquer you on the battlefield tomorrow. I’ll remind you of the sweet taste of my overwhelming prowess.”

His intoxicating presence infiltrates your senses like a potent toxin: he renders you defenceless to his reticent whims. From prior fleeting meetings and brief acquaintanceship that solidifies into something more, it is in moments like these, you can feel the pulsing and robust bond that has bound you two together - a bond you nor he could sever without incapacitating the other that has been irrevocably tied to this everlasting string that connects your beings. 

Swiftly slicing into the universe that has formed between you and him, a drop of rain splatters onto the plane of grass that lays beneath your feet. A few droplets multiply into a light drizzle, which then gradually lead to a downpour that descends relentlessly onto your figures. 

Yelping as a cold stream of water cascades down your back, you instinctively pull Scaramouche closer to your form. Reaching your hand above your head, you promptly draw one end of his hat downwards in a futile attempt to shield both you and him from the torrential rain. Over the thundering pitter-patter descending above you, you make out an exasperated yell erupt from the form within your grasp: “Seriously, you’re using my hat as an umbrella?! The audacity!”

“Stop moving your mouth and start moving those legs! Let’s hurry to the house before we’re both soaked through!”

Briskly, your hand wraps around his lithe waist whilst the other clasps his nimble wrist. You pull him firmly towards the quaint cottage that Granny Ruoxin kindly let the two of you reside in after taking care of throng of Treasure Hoarders and stray agents of the Fatui who sought to disturb the peaceful village. 

As the rain pelts down onto the vibrant expanse of orange and yellow fields, Scaramouche stumbles and teeters as he loses his footing. The dirt dampens with the downpour and the muddy surface threatens to pull him down as his ukon-geta sinks into the moist soil underneath his figure. Noticing his struggle, you whisk him into your arms. Hoisting his frame closer to your chest, you support his waist in one hand, tucking his form closer to your bosom as his legs are securely lifted up with your other hand. 

Scaramouche’s features contort into one of shock but he is unable to fully explore his sudden astonishment as your ministrations cause him to desperately cling onto your shoulders to avoid falling down. Incredulously, he shouts: “A little warning would have been nice!” Closing his lids, to calm his thundering heartbeat and to allay the sudden spur of bewilderment, he hollers: “Is this really necessary? You shouldn’t fret over me in such a situation - put me down and take care of yourself first.” 

Fidgeting in your hold, he ruffles like an agitated and displeased feline, clawing his way out of your secure embrace. For once, it isn’t because your actions have aroused that inherent feeling of vexation or irritation that wells in his being. For once, (even if these are things he’s thought about countless times, but he internally, indignantly and stubbornly refuses to accept this) he’s concerned about the hefty burden carrying him places on your form, already weary with the elemental reactions inflicted onto you and the countless swords and weapons you had to defend yourself and him against. For once, he’s afraid you’ll become ill with every transparent drop of water that descends onto your exquisite profile. For once, he’s at a conflict between relishing in how your arms sturdily and firmly grip his form with the same overwhelming strength and power he’s witnessed in innumerable battles, and reprimanding your foolish selflessness that blinds you from the danger of trekking through the vast plains of terrace fields and hills that await you on your journey to the quaint village. 

“Pipe down, Scaramouche, do you honestly think that I would let you walk in this storm with sandals like that?” Glancing at the clogs that limply hang from his feet, he grimaces at the soil that cakes the dark wooden soles and he’s starkly reminded of the pain that shot up the length of his calf when he stumbled moments ago. 

“Hmm? Cat got your tongue? If so, hold on tightly, ohimesama, let me take care of you now.” It’s astounding that even here, you’d snarkily tease him so. It’s astonishing that even now, you don’t seize your romantic advancements - not as you briskly send a cheeky wink and gallantly march towards the cozy cottage that awaits the two of you. Heavy rainfall splatters relentlessly onto your visage, which seems even more breathtaking as the water highlights your charming features. (Not that he’d actually vocalise these thoughts - maybe it’s because of his pride or because he’s afraid of inflating your ego any more than it already is. Perhaps it’s because he trips over the words he wishes to tell you, your beauty petrifying him so much so that he feels vulnerable in a way he’s never experienced before and flustered that he lacks the same amount of experience you hold in amorous endeavours.) 

After being well-acquainted with your headstrong, albeit also quite frustratingly stubborn and obstinate, nature, he surrenders to your whims. The only thing he can do is to securely loop his arms around your neck and, begrudgingly, use his hat to provide some way of deflecting the incessant downpour. He flushes at the way you reflexively move your head closer to his, your damp strands tickling his jaw. Instinctively, you nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck, tucking yourself into him to cover what little could fit underneath his headwear. 

It certainly will be a long journey back to Qingce Village, he muses, gazing beyond the tempestuous storm and the clouds brewing with strobes of lightning. The tenacious glint never leaves your captivating optics even as you inhale and exhale shakily whilst climbing the rolling hills and undulating pathways to your desired destination. Even as your chest heaves under his weight and tracks of rainwater stream down the curve of your cheek, the edge of your chin and the hollow of your neck, your hold is unfailingly firm under his lithe thighs and the broad column of his back and shoulders.

He’ll have to reward you for your efforts later - such chivalrous acts deserve commendation - something that even he is aware of. He acutely recalls how much you you yearn for his recognition - albeit not explicitly, he knows how voicing your merits inextricably affects you. Who is he to deny you your well-earned praise? Who is he to not demonstrate his utmost gratitude of your efforts? He’ll certainly show you his appreciation - he just hopes you’ll be able to bear the gravity of his newfound passion - a sudden onslaught of fervent ardour that consumes him wholly. It would be an expression you would have never expected from him but like your proficiency in wielding the elements, you’ll diligently endure him. After all, that’s what is expected of the partner of the former renowned Balladeer. And he knows you definitely won’t disappoint.

_____

Scaramouche isn’t one for showing his admiration outright - especially not in broad daylight and exposed to the judgemental scrutiny of outsiders who have no right to learn of his ardent affinity for you. He absolutely abhors the idea of anyone seeing how your actions make him putty in your hands. He detests the thought of anyone seeing how a heart manifests in his artificial rib cage, rattling against wire and alive and beating within that hollow shell of his puppet body. 

Under the private gaze of the moon and your eyes only, away from the daunting, captious view of the outside world, he unravels himself to you. His touch is inexperienced, but as his reincarnation’s name suggests, he craves discovery and desires exploration. 

Like electricity, his lips leave supple trails of kisses along your jugular - his actions igniting sparks in their wake and making your skin tingle with a numbing and thrilling static that persists even as he draws himself away from you. Despite the stringent, blunt and yet considerate facade he performs in-front of others, you can taste the lingering remnants of his territorial, cunning and dominant persona through the way he smirks against the expanse of your clavicle, and writes his name with the purple and light red flowers that begin to blossom on your torso. You’re submerged in the palpitating sensation he sends throughout your body, conducting a current of his fervent ardour to every area of your pliant and yielding form. It spreads through the vast network of veins and blood vessels that come to life with every caress of his hands. It jumpstarts an uproar of passion that had once lay dormant deep within the core of your being for so long, awakened by the energy he fuels into you with every movement of his deft digits and the ravenous purple orbs that bore into yours. 

Eagerly and rapaciously, he consumes the sounds that escape your mouth, punctuated by the roaring strikes of thunder that briefly illuminate your entwined figures resting on your shared double bed and guided by the sustained metronome of the rain that continues to fall outside and casts shadows along the mahogany floors of the cottage. Selfishly, he drinks you in like you’re the only entity that will satiate this vehement desire - like you’re the only person to satisfy this intense hunger that ravishes his entire being. He delights in the way you squirm underneath his form, desperate to chase him, to hold him accountable for the pulsating ache he triggered into every single inch of skin, flesh and bone within your body, to ensure he’s responsible for the searing libido that courses through every fibre of your being. 

Even within the haze of frantic, erratic movements and desperate, yearning caresses, he realises that in this moment, you never fail to make him feel like he belongs. Your presence provokes him to feel like he was always destined to be engulfed wholly by your tender embrace. Like he was preordained to be irrevocably tethered to your celestial presence, like he was fated to be loved by you. To return your fervent reassurances that ensure he is more than an just the discarded puppet he was born as, and the comfort you provide by will-fully devoting yourself to guiding him to the future that he deserves, he’ll drown you in his affections. 

Ever chasing the next thrill, the next competition, he’ll see how long you can withstand before he completely overwhelms you. 

After all, he’s grateful for everything you’ve done for him. This is just one of many ways for him to show his appreciation.

[least-carpet]

hello!! 👀 (for the au ask game)?

Hello!! This is so extremely belated, I'm very sorry.

One AU I will never write is one I've outlined loosely in its entirety (so maybe I should just post the outline?) and it's the AU where Jin Ling is a cis girl. This is one of my earliest attempts to answer the question "what would actually make Jiang Cheng happy?" and it involved the conclusion of "Jin Ling living in Lotus Pier and inheriting without the sect being absorbed into the Jin." And I felt like I could make it happen for girl!Jin Ling!

Because the Jin Sect especially sucks, Jin Ling being a girl removes her from the line of succession. She's still given to Jiang Cheng to care for, and like canon Jin Ling, she splits time between both sects with the understanding that she still technically belongs to the Jin, despite them being unwilling to make her sect heir. After Jin Guangshan dies, Jin Guangyao and Jiang Cheng come to an unofficial agreement that she will marry a Jiang disciple of suitably high cultivation and rank and inherit the sect that way.

Jin Rusong, the only available male heir who's not Mo Xuanyu, is watched like a hawk and doesn't get murdered. (I am agnostic re: whether Jin Guangyao had him killed or not. Either way, needing a direct heir and there being more of a reason to expect Rusong to be at risk are both elements that could change the outcome there.) He's a very sweet kid, and much, much smarter than he looks, but he is spoiled to pieces, including by Jin Ling. That's her cute baby cousin! Of course he can have everything he wants!

Qin Su, having her son to protect, does not commit suicide despite finding out about the incest (although she ain't doing too good). The incest is also not revealed publicly. Unfortunately, an Evil Jin Elder—Jin Chan's grandfather—finds out about it somehow.

When Jin Ling returns to the Jin Sect to protect Jin Rusong and investigate Jin Guangyao's secret room, she gains access to—among other things—a treasure trove of blackmail material about the Jin elders.

The Evil Jin Elder, not wanting to be blackmailed or publicly dragged up on charges, blackmails Qin Su into using Jin Ling to fulfill an old written offer of marriage from the Lan sect. This solves a number of different problems for him: no more secret sect investigation, weakens Jin Rusong's faction, reaffirms now-shaky relationship with the Lan. So many birds with one stone! Qin Su is not about this but is also very, very desperate to remain in her position in order to protect Jin Rusong.

Jin Ling wakes up, bound hand and foot, in a carriage to the Lan sect, without her bow, Suihua, or Fairy. (Despite being all tied up, she still resists strenuously with her teeth. "Why does she even need that dog," says one of Evil Jin Elder's henchmen bitterly, as they haul her from carriage to palanquin.) Once there, she learns that the offer specifies a member of the inner family, but not who; and that a certain faction of elders is proposing that she be married to Lan Xichen, i.e. her uncle's secret boyfriend who killed him.

Jin Ling has never gone along quietly with anything she didn't like in her entire life. Her escape involves Lan Qiren, Lan Jingyi, Wei Wuxian, and Li'l Apple on a boat.

Story 1 is the story of how Jin Ling becomes the (still unmarried) heir to the Jiang sect, and it's pre-lingyi. Story 2 involves her eventual marriage, since, as Jiang Sect heir, Jin Ling needs to find a husband. She proposes (like the great-granddaughter of Genghis Khan) that any potential husband has to beat her in a contest that she chooses. Then she has to frantically brainstorm a contest of martial prowess that Lan Jingyi can beat her at. (Wrestling. It's wrestling. This is 100% because Lan Jingyi sucks at so many things and not an excuse for her to get wrestled to the ground by the goofy Lan boy with the very nice arms, Jin Rusong, how dare you insinuate things of that nature—)

[see-arcane-scribbles]

Extremely belated October 3rd thought:

What if they had a witness? Just some pedestrian, a shopkeeper, maybe a neighbor. Minding their own business when suddenly,

CRASH!

Some aristo in a black suit throws himself out of that big old house’s window. He pauses in the yard to shake his fist at the place.

"You think to baffle me, you—with your pale faces all in a row, like sheep in a butcher's. You shall be sorry yet, each one of you! You think you have left me without a place to rest; but I have more. My revenge is just begun! I spread it over centuries, and time is on my side. Your girls that you all love are mine already; and through them you and others shall yet be mine—my creatures, to do my bidding and to be my jackals when I want to feed—"

He seems to have a good monologue going until some guy with white hair, a face full of murder, and a giant knife in his teeth comes scuttling out of the window like the world’s biggest and most pissed off spider.

“Bah!” says Goth Aristo before sprinting away, locking the gate, and…turning into mist? Is that a bat in there?? What???

White-haired Knife Man is forlorn at not getting to do any stabbing and goes sadly back to his friends who have also come out of the building, likewise armed and covered in garlic flowers and crosses. There, there buddy, we’ll skin him next time :)

The witness decides they’re not touching any of that, thanks. 

But the newspaper is right there...

Fast-forward to the future, post-novel, and our heroes finally have time to catch up on the latest news—

PARANORMAL PERIL IN PICCADILLY!

WITNESS REPORTS THE HARROWING BATTLE OF A BAT-MAN AND SPIDER-GHOUL IN OUR VERY STREETS!

(In true Clark Kent fashion, Jonathan the White-haired Prettyboy is never singled out. He is a different man in Murder Mode, and the default sweetheart solicitor couldn’t speak harshly to a plant let alone attempt to slaughter a vampire in the street, ha ha)

((Mina still keeps one copy pasted in her journal and another framed on the mantel.))

[alexapillustration]

🐍 HISS 🐍

๑

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY TO THE QUEEN MEGAN THEE STALLION!!! 🎉🎉🎉 I didn't know it was her birthday month at all, but it's very fitting since this month I finally started getting into her music! Recently Ive been loving taking a photo reference of an artist and transforming it into something magical and creative in my own style (like my last painting of Dua Lipa), and especially playing around with lighting! I can't wait to do more of these, tbh 💚💚

๑

Um, yeah, also.... I have had a sort of artistic revelation last week and I have realized I'm not really being myself on social media, and it's sucking the life out of me :") What I mean by this primarily is I try so hard to be family friendly when in reality anyone who knows me knows that I am extremely far from it in terms of my personality and my language 😅 And, well, I'm done acting like that online because it's not authentic to me AT ALL and one of my most important things is to be transparent and honest with people who engage with my art 100% and starting today, I am doing just that. I will still be posting warnings on NSFW art or trigger warnings for art that needs it, but other than that, I will NOT be censoring myself for anyone. With that being said, if you followed me because I was family friendly, didn't use profanity, etc, then I'm sorry and I don't blame you at all for unfollowing. But I NEED to be my true, authentic self in order to progress as an artist. It's also gonna take me a while to get used to being myself on here so it may not happen right away, but gradually I'll start to come out of my shell. Thank y'all for understanding!!! Love you guys and I will hopefully be pushing more artwork out soon!! 🫶

[thecatinthestacks]

Last year I made a log of my daily thoughts during the book fair and completely forgot to share them.

So please enjoy this extremely belated post about 2023's book fair! :D

DAY ONE

New year, new secretary. I have tactfully requested that she not call the library to ask if I'm ready for customers when the schedule says I'm open. (If the fair opens at 7:30 and it's after 7:30, then it's super-duper obvious I'm open.)

Because EVERY YEAR the secretary calls the library to ask "you ready for customers?", and EVERY YEAR after I wade through a huge crowd of kids to get to the phone, it gets harder and harder to answer politely.

-

This year, we're open before the bell. Completely dead in the morning, not a single pre-bell customer. Exactly like I told the principal, who appeared to be disappointed that there wasn’t a rush on the very first day.

-

Good news: I finally remembered to ask for seed money before we opened the fair!

Bad news: I forgot to ask for fives and tens and my first customer of the entire fair is paying with a hundred dollar bill.

-

Kids used to Scholastic fairs find out that Literati doesn’t sell books with cheap necklaces and erasers attached. Stunned to have to choose books based on their interests. I edge inexorably closer to my “the kids these days” phase.

-

Me: “Teachers, please call ahead before you bring your entire class at once.”

Entire Fifth Grade: *turns up at the same time unannounced*

-

Fifth grader paying with his own Apple watch asking to return Stranger Things: Kamchatka because “it’s not really Stranger Things, it’s just a ripoff!”

-

Me: “Please remember the library is closed because I had to physically remove the check-in computer to make room for the registers.”

Teacher: [keeps sending kids to get new library books anyway]

DAY TWO

No, you can’t use my phone to call your mom to ask for money.

-

No, you can't go to the office to call your mom to ask for money.

-

How to summon customers- sit down to do one (1) thing. This instantly activates a shopping frenzy.

-

Honey, how about you just give me all of your change right now instead of handing me yet another handful every time I finish counting?

-

Honey, how about you ask me how much things cost instead of buying one item at a time and seeing how much change you get back?

-

Kindergarten Music Program lets out, SWARMS OF PARENTS AND FAMILIES APPEAR! IT'S SUPER PROFITABLE!

-

Had to yell at a kid in front of their own mother. (It's okay, she agreed with me that kicking stuff is bad.)

-

Kid who returned the Stranger Things book annoyed that his refund hasn't reached his Apple Pay account yet. Purchases a poster instead. I suggest cash next time.

DAY THREE

Principal and counselor bring the webcam in to promote the fair during morning announcements and do the pledges.

Me: *slowly and quietly finishes ringing a child up during the moment of silence, hoping nobody notices*

-

I am eternally grateful to my parent volunteer who is able to be here for hours on end and I wish nothing but the best for her and her daughters.

-

Pretty sure this fifth grade boy is buying little trinkets to woo the crowd of girls following him. I should probably touch base with his teachers about that.

-

I can tell you didn’t even try to read the book you picked. Because it’s in Spanish, that’s why. No, I know you don’t speak Spanish. Because I know your mom, that’s why.

-

Kid walks in, instead of shopping waits patiently by the register to ask me “Do I give you my money now?”

-

Kid who bought and returned Stranger Things book wants to return poster that is now dinged up.

-

To the kid who only has $5 for the week- I feel ya, but no matter how many times you bring me an item and ask "how much?", it doesn't change anything. I've already told you which items are in your price range.

-

Have to cut off the Stranger Things kid because he keeps wanting to return things that are no longer in sellable condition. Sorry, bro, this sale is final!

-

First Grader: *smugly buying a chapter book she can't read because she knows I can't do anything to stop her*

Me: *sells her the chapter book because she'll be able to read it eventually and maybe the spite will motivate her to practice more*

DAY FOUR

That's it, I’m making a list of basic financial lessons we need to start teaching the kids:

YOU HAVE TO ACCOUNT FOR SALES TAX

No, change is not “extra” money you get as a treat. No, you don’t get to decide how much change you get.

You can’t ignore the numbers after the decimal point. $2.99 does not mean $2.

When a price includes cents, that doesn’t mean you have to have exactly that much in coins. You can simply give me more dollars and then you will get change back.

The answer to “How much can I get with $20?” is “it depends on what you’re buying”.

The answer to “How much do the books cost?" is "it depends on what you're buying".

If you don't have enough money to buy the book you want, you can simply NOT buy anything today and bring the correct amount tomorrow.

...or you can bring three bucks every day, be surprised that the book still costs $10, then spend all your money on erasers and go home and ask for more money...

...okay, seriously I need to make a chart or a TikTok or something to explain this. You're sad you don't have enough money for that Dog Man book, but you brought $3 EVERY DAY and instead of saving it you bought trinkets that you keep losing! I WENT OVER THIS WITH YOU EVERY DAY, I DON'T KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT ANY EASIER!

-

To the 5th grader who only had $5 for the whole week and keeps buying and returning various items and is mystified that this hasn't resulted in him making a profit- I'm cutting you off for your own good, and also I'm sending an email to your math teacher to let her know you may need extra tutoring.

-

Book Fair Gift Card: *can only be spent on books*

Kid: *only wants a spy pen*

Me: *agrees to buy him the spy pen myself if he will pick a damn book already!*

-

Girl: "I have $15. How much is this?"

Me: "Let's see...with sales tax, it's gonna be ten dollars and eighty-one cents."

Girl: "Oh...I don't have any cents."

Principal: *aghast choking noise*

Me: *quickly defuses the incoming lecture with a Fun Math Lesson!*

DAY FIVE

Time to deploy the annual "We have nothing left under $X. Please don't send kids shopping if they have less than $X." email.

-

Gently turning away three dozen kids that have less than $X.

-

"If I bring $10, can I come shopping tomorrow?"

"Honey, tomorrow's Saturday."

"Oh. I mean next week."

"Next week is Spring Break."

-

Annual tradition of kids being shocked that this is the last day of the book fair despite all the posters and flyers saying the book fair only lasts a week.

-

Bonus points for the same kids being shocked every year that the book fair is not permanent addition to the library.

-

Volunteer Mom letting her daughters pick out some books to buy.

Her: "How about this one?"

Kid: "No! It's too learny!"

Me: *picked the wrong time to drink water*

-

Tracking down teachers to get them to pay for the books they set aside for themselves and their children. Finally down to the last teacher who was going to get a book for her kid. I open the library door to hear him in the middle of a tantrum and her yelling at him...

...I close the library door like "okay, guess he's not getting that book..."

-

Re-doing the final accounting because I forgot to factor in the startup cash.

-

Re-re-doing the final accounting because I forgot to pull books to purchase for the library

-

Going home to put on jammies and sleep for 12 straight hours!

[bopinion]

2024 / 17

Brief compromise edition (and belated - sorry...)

Bad News of the Week

Climate change not only has immense consequences for flora and fauna (including humans, by the way), but also for the economy. A recent study now emphasizes once again: climate change is causing the global economy to shrink significantly. Researchers from the Potsdam Institute for Climate Impact Research (PIK) present facts in the scientific journal Nature that can only be described as severe: even the best-case scenario (i.e. even with a drastic reduction in climate-damaging gases that limit global warming to a maximum of two degrees Celsius) describes that at least 38 trillion dollars in economic damage is to be expected - every year.

You have to put that into perspective: That means a global loss of income of around a fifth. So for companies AND their employees. And the damage would be six times as high - so as expensive - as the cost of effective measures to limit global warming. When will I finally stop hearing that climate protection measures are sensible but expensive? No, they are sensible and inexpensive. And, incidentally, essential for survival. Let's (finally) go!

Good News of the Week

In just over a month's time, there will be elections to the European Parliament in Europe. Absurdly enough, there are also parties standing for election that see Europe as a curse rather than a prospect. And would prefer to abolish the EU. And the Euro. And Europe in general. Unsurprisingly, these are primarily nationalists from the right-wing spectrum. Taking Viktor Orbán as a role model: this juggernaut in Brussels must be dismantled from within. Just like parasites do with their host. Got the picture?

In Germany, the right-wing populist AfD (Alternative für Deutschland / Alternative for Germany) is taking on this task. These parasites already occupy 10% of German seats in the European Parliament. Constructive work? Full stop. Loud grumbling? Full throttle. The AfD is so extreme that other right-wing parties such as Marine Le Pen's Rassemblement National (France) or Giorgia Meloni's Fratelli d'Italia (guess what: Italy) are seriously considering throwing them out of the ID (Identity & Democracy) group of parliament.

Nevertheless, the AfD assumed that it would go into the election with a tailwind - as the ruling traffic light coalition of Social Democrats, Greens and Liberals has an immense image problem. Until last week. That's when a bombshell dropped: an employee of top candidate Maximilian Krah was exposed as a Chinese spy. Yes, exposed. And not just suspected. Because the hurdles for a parliamentary employee to be taken into custody are high. Since then, the top candidate has been asked to resign. And hidden by his own party.

I think there are several positive lessons to be learned from this incident: Germany must significantly increase its awareness of espionage. Germany needs to check more closely which people come in and out of its institutions and have access to sensitive information. Not all right-wingers are the same, there are plenty of nuances. And above all: potential voters could now (and should at least now!) think twice about who they vote for. Because the AfD is clearly not only undermining Europe's interests, but also those of Germany. "Germany first" therefore effectively rules out a vote for this party. Got that?

Post Scriptum

The Liberals are swearing their base (and the few potential voters they have left) to an "economic turnaround" at a party conference. What does that mean? For example, a freeze on social transfer payments with simultaneous tax relief - by abolishing the "solidarity surcharge", which is perhaps not just called that by coincidence. Dear Free Democratic Party of Germany (FDP): I wish you a constructive time as an extra-parliamentary opposition in the coming legislative period. Fortunately, liberal ideals have recently been upheld primarily by the Greens. You are now just a client party for high earners who want to dismantle the welfare state. What a pity, really...

[mountains-on-mountains]

Extremely Belated Intro <3

So I've been on here since 2019 but for my new followers! Hello and welcome :)

My name's Stardust! I use they/them pronouns, and I'm 19. I first joined Tumblr for my David Bowie/classic rock obsession, but now I use this acct mostly for just random posts and a few fandoms I'm not quite as engaged with.

I do have a few side blogs! I'm on my Sanders Sides blog, @virgil-my-emo-son, a lot, and I'm on my fnaf blog, @stardust-fnaf, a fair amount too. I also collect dolls and my fav movie EVER is Cinderella, and my blog for that is @disneydollsdisneydolls!

6/3/24 edit: New kpop blog! @skzdust!

My Ao3 is sky-of-stardust! I'm currently working on a Drarry rewrite of the sixth HP book, and I post a lot of my Sanders Sides fic too! On my Sanders Sides blog I take requests sometimes too! There's some old JJBA stuff on my Ao3 as well, and a Scream fic and a couple of MCR fics. If you'd like to check it out please do! I'm always happy to talk about my fics so feel free to leave a comment on the fic or message me here :)

I do a lot of art too, which I post about here sometimes as well!

Always up to talk to mutuals, or if I don't follow you back feel free to say hi as well, I probably just didn't see the notification or something 😭 I'm sorry I miss stuff a lot! Feel free to message or send an ask! I am friendly I promise :)

Thanks for stopping by! Have a lovely day <3

[seijorhi]

👁️👄👁️

I'm alive, sorry I fell off the face of the earth for a few days there (I was unwell - new anxiety meds and all that jazz)

BUT!! I have much to say, both about your new fic and obviously one of the older ones, so here's an extremely belated / extended ART&RCSW <33

Firstly, Maelstrom was incredible, it changed the way I live my life

I don't even watch Trigun Stampede but good lord did you get me hooked on the characters - not to mention, a good poly fic is always the way to my heart

The twist of the secret bastard brothers?? Incredible. Delicious. Amazing. And the not so subtle hatred they have for their father?? The fact that the only good thing to come from him was their darling sister?? My gosh, you've got me wrapped around your finger Rhi

Though I must admit, the whole reveal and the part where reader is being lead to the throne room gave me anxiety - you always manage to surprise me with the way you set things up, and I mean that in the best way possible

I can't say anything about the characterisation of Vash and Knives because I don't watch the show, but I imagine that as with everyone else, you've done an amazing job

Also the sense of hopelessness at the end?? Because like, there's literally no escape - the best type of ending in my professional opinion

Next up on the agenda, we have a fic (series??) that I know you're not particularly fond of, but I absolutely love

Through the cold, I'll find my way back to you, your Hawks / Dabi soulmate fic - it has me in a fucking chokehold

It's literally everything I love in a fic - soulmates, poly relationship, yandere, it's just amazing

The slight sprinkle of angst kinda feels like a punch to the gut, but in a satisfying way - not to mention, the fact that Natsuo still keeps in touch with the reader even though they don't really have a connection aside from Touya kills me, he's so sweet

And poor Keigo (he's insane but I do not care <33)

The way my stomach drops when the reader realises that she has another soulmate will never not be a great feeling, but the way she knows instinctively that something is missing because Dabi isn't there really is painful

Like I said, I know you've said you don't really like the series, but I'm here to reassure you, I loved it, so rest assured, the hard work didn't go down the drain <33

I'm also really sorry for disappearing for like two or three weeks :// But I'm back now (??)

Anyway, I hope you've been well, drinking water and sleeping and whatnot <33

See you next week Rhi (I hope??) Lol :))

BBY I MISSED YOU <33

i hope ur doing okay, i am sending you all the forehead smooches and love!!

ahh but this ask is so nice!! honestly i was so worried about posting maelstrom cuz it's a new fandom for both me and sort of in general – i know the manga and old anime have been around for a while, but for most people it's new – and i wasn't sure if people were actually going to read it

turns out you did anyway, not knowing any of the characters vhgfjdksjdhfjdks it's always such a huge compliment when that happens. it's actually how i found my way first to bnha and then to haikyuu so, yeah, it makes me happy to see it's the same for you guys

as for through the cold... hoo boy. i did have big plans for that one, and every month or so there's a part of me that wants to either delete part 2 and start again, or delete the entire thing and start again, with better execution this time. i may not be as in love with bnha as i used to be, but hawks and touya, and that particular storyline (i am if nothing else a sucker from the soulmate trope gone wrong)

but also... the part i hate about series, and one of my biggest gripes as a writer is when there's a demand for part 2's and 3's but then it's crickets in the notes. part 2 kinda flopped and idk if it was because it wasn't great or if people just couldn't be bothered to leave a response, so while i do occasionally have the motivation to continue it i don't know if it's actually worth while or if anyone (aside from you haha) would be into it. but then i think about all that delicious angst and keigo and touya being jealous assholes and... hmmmm.... vghfjdkjhvfjdks

in any case, i'm glad you liked it and it was very sweet of you to send this ask and i adore you.

also, pls take care of yourself, and don't apologise for taking the time you need. i, of course, live for these asks and seeing you in my notes, but it's never a necessity. your mental/physical health always comes first <33

[spidervarin]

I am sorry i forgot to make a post here but happy belated DID awareness day!

DID is such an extremely isolating disorder to have an im happy to have been able to attend the TPA conference yesterday and talk with some likeminded systems and questioning folk about living with DID and embracing plurality or multiplicity

Talking with people who understand really does help me get through the day and I’m thankful for all of you <3

[karouvas]

andrew nico and blue classic

Hi sorry I got to the asks for this so late this one took a long time, I actually realized I had the opportunity to post it on your birthday but I didn’t quite manage but anyway consider this a belated birthday present if my rambling tangents qualify as such to you <33

Blue Sargent

three facts about them from my personal headcanons: 1) her favorite musical is Wicked and she identified with Elphaba 2) I think she has some sensory issues which is why she’s so particular about certain textures of clothing, food etc. and I definitely like to read her as neurodivergent 3) I hc her as non-white in Maura’s side I especially like picturing her as desi which you could say is projection and you’d be right, but generally I think of her as a brown girl.

a reason they suck: her judgmental streak is real, and she’s very proud and yes these things together can influence her towards being a bit of a hypocrite.

a reason they are great: Idk how to pick just one thing I am infamously Not normal about this girl she remains my favorite ya book girl to this day.. But I really love how passionate Blue is and also how kind of self-possessed she is about her own feelings, she’s very in tune with her own individuality and what she desires out of life: seeing the world, exploring, finding ways to help make the world better, having her own path that she determines not a set destiny, wanting lasting meaningful relationships and friendships that are maybe more intense than is technically healthy etc. she searches for something more and doesn’t entirely know how to get there/what that path is but she’s intent on carving out that path for herself and finding that knowledge, and then the area she’s least in tune with herself about is like, romance and particularly the way to feel about Gansey in the first few books which I really like as a dichotomy ((and it’s part of why Bluesey reads like a lesbian narrative cough)), that passionate nature is also what allows her to be extremely loving and brave and creative and I generally love that about her. Also this is an unpopular opinion but the way she thinks and her personality does feel like a very real teenage girl, I think Maggie did a good job writing her voice in that department and that wasn’t ever a problem with how she wrote Blue the problem with how she wrote her was, as I say later, the fact that Maggie wasn’t interested in the follow-through of her arc/how Blue’s personality which was very fleshed out, would change/develop outside of happening to develop certain relationships. Oh I also love how curious she is I love character who constantly want to know what is up with everything which will continue to be a theme in the other asks … I’ll quit while I’m ahead here I love her but also really am due for a reread which is why this is coming out so incoherently.

a reason I relate to them: I relate a lot to her mindset of loving whimsical things but striving to be practical in my pursuit of whimsy, I also just relate to a lot of her personality (besides how brave/risk-taking she can be which is not me at all lmao) and thought processes she’s one of the chars I most identify with in fiction generally… and a lot of it can be tied to the fact we’re both 4w5’s tbh. I also was raised mainly by multiple maternal figures I strive to emulate and grew up not thinking well of male authority figures <3

(what I consider to be) the top tier otp/ot3 for that character: for otp it’s Bluesey obviously my parents who raised me… I really really love Blue x Noah too but it’s more elite tier. Imfor ot3 there are actually 3 options which I find really appealing I think Gansey/Blue/Noah Blue/Gansey/Henry and Blue/Gansey/Adam all have excellent ot3 potential but I’m going to go with the latter because it’s the messiest option and I like to have fun. Three incredibly fucked up bisexuals who were obsessed w each other in thematically fascinating ways.

five things that never happened to that character that I believe should have happened: 1. I loved the parts of Bllb that focused on Blue learning about her powers with Gwenllian and that dynamic as a vehicle for her becoming in tune with being a mirror/witch should have continued as a storyline in TRK the way Adam and Ronan’s abilities continued to be relevant to the story, the conclusion to the arc could’ve still been Blue learning about the Artemis-tree situation but i wanted more reflection from her on what these powers are going to mean for her going forward and not just “oh yeah I guess it makes sense I’m part tree” 2. Her arc towards becoming less judgmental shouldn’t have just been “I guess I need to not be so mean to rich white boys” I wish she had actually gotten to grapple with her mindsets about class and gender more, and obviously I adore her dynamics with the boys and the 300 Fox way ladies but I wanted her . 3) I love Maura but I kind of wish Blue had been allowed to be mad at her about disappearing at the end of TDT for longer after she had come back (her moments of anger before Maura gets back are incredible I love her interactions with Calla when they both are missing her too), especially since Bllb is when Persephone and Jesse die and the anticipation of Gansey’s loss are really building and getting to Blue so I think it would be really natural for her to double down on transferring those emotions to her mother who is safe for her to be mad at. 4) I do kind of like that Artemis himself wasn’t that relevant to Blue when he showed up lol, but I still think Blue should have gotten to actually know him and deal with some of her feelings about being abandoned by him that were definitely There in earlier books. She could get to let out her feelings and get to know him a little and then still feel unimpressed by him / that he’s not a real guardian figure to her the way Maura Calla and Jimmi are and Persephone was. That would work for me <3 5) Generally TRK failed to resolve what Blue was going to do with her future aside from the Bluesey/Sarchengsey of it all (both of which I love but come on) I haven’t read Greywaren yet but I am glad there was some lip service to that and it made decent sense for her char. (Also should be said that my last reread of the first two books was in 2019 so while I like to think of myself as a Blue expert still my memory of some things might not be that sharp.)

five people that character never fell in love with and why

1)Adam —- I actually do like Blue/Adam it’s

the type of pairing where hindsight made me appreciate it more and find it more interesting as it exists in the story. Blue not falling for Adam had multiple factors so it’s hard to pinpoint just one, part of it was definitely that for Blue liking Adam better than Gansey went hand in hand with the idea of her as someone who wasn’t bound to a specific fate, and that wasn’t fair to him (Adam also had reasons to fixate on Blue that weren’t fair to her but this isn’t about his side of things, even though that also added to creating a distance within their relationship which is part of why), so part of it is based on the circumstances around their relationship, also I don’t think necessarily that they’re incompatible romantically personality wise but they definitely both honed in on certain similarities between them and assumed that would mean perfect compatibility when that wasn’t the case. In a different storyline maybe they could’ve gotten there, within the timeline and structure of the story not really.

2)Noah —- Literally Noah said it himself it’s because he’s not alive… yet at the same time from what we know of Noah pre-death he didn’t sound like someone Blue would like much at all, so that makes the whole “I’d ask you out if I was alive.” “I’d say yes.” thing even more tragic, although Blue very much does mean it for the Noah that is right now if He could live.

3)Ronan — this is just on here because I needed more people lol I actually wasn’t sure who to put after Adam. But Blue could never be attracted to Ronan because she likes a particular flavor of fruity pathetic boys like she likes fruity nerdy and pathetic not fruity Ronan is fruity but isn’t the right kind of pathetic for her at all he’s too harsh and fiery, and similar to Blue herself but not in a way that attracts her at all.

4)Kavinsky — She hated him and would never interact with him willingly there’s really not much depth I can add here. Also the way he spoke to her in their one scene in tdt was disgusting the fact for a long time there were parts of the fandom that cared way more about him and the dream pack than Blue and the 300 fox way women Grrr

5)Helen — This is my crack pairing that I felt passionately about in the year 2013 she didn’t fall in love with Helen simply because she didn’t get the chance to. But I think she could’ve if they met like 5 years post series and Blue hadn’t met Gansey yet so.

Andrew Minyard

three facts about them from my personal headcanons: 1. He’s a fan of horror media specifically slasher films (also old movies in general but that’s canon from some of the things he’s referenced in dialogue) 2. Only half a headcanon/generally this is very based on the texts but I do think Nora is right about him being bipolar (something she says in the E.C. But it was a while ago so she used out dated terminology) and based on meta I’ve read from people more well-versed in the subject than myself and far more than Nora, I agree that he’s Bipolar II and has C-PTSD, and is also probably on the autism spectrum. 3. He says his favorite color is black but it is actually blue (like Neil’s eyes lol)

a reason they suck: I mean if I met him in real life I would definitely be bothered by how inflexible his judgements of the world and other people are and by his inclination for violence, but narratively I’m more than fine with all those things tbh.

a reason they are great: am going to refrain from writing an essay here and just mention a few qualities I really like about him: extreme loyalty and protectiveness towards his ‘people’, incredibly intelligent and perceptive in how he reads people and situations, always driven to seek knowledge as a means of controlling circumstances for those he cares about and himself but also just because he’s a nosy bitch, and then I have a hard time explaining some other things especially since you haven’t finished the series but I just think the way he works as a character is fascinating I’m obsessed with his brain. Thinking about him a lot also makes me miserable sometimes in a good way. I also think he’s one of the funniest characters ever. I’ll stop talking now he really contains multitudes to Me.

a reason I relate to them: honestly abandonment issues and emotional repression..Also like the way he always want to know everyone’s business but doesn’t actually like to talk to people (non-medicated) is a mood.

(what I consider to be) the top tier otp/ot3 for that character: Andreil and Kandrew I honestly can’t choose because Andreil is THEE ship and Kandrew is My ship obsession and I consider those two separate categories in a sense, my approach with Pynch and Adansey is similar tbh. And for ot3 Kandreil <33 very non-controversial.

five things that never happened to that character that I believe should have happened: 1) getting on proper meds suited to his actual diagnosis would be nice 2) I want him and Nicky to figure out new approaches in their relationship and generally work to have a better one 3) I think it would be cool if like Neil he later switched his major to something he actually was interested, especially like the idea of him as a film major or a psych major

five people that character never fell in love with and why

1)Roland — So this is a dynamic/character where I have one reaction based on information from the books + extra content (which is basically @ Roland get a job stay away from him!) , and Andrew’s pov of the dynamic is a bit different from mine so I’m focusing on this question from Andrew’s pov. I think Andrew liked Roland because he’s charming and easy to like and treated him like a peer not a kid (which is part of the problem) but it was a shallow kind of liking which was why Andrew saw Roland as a “safe” outlet to explore his sexuality, because there was no risk of him getting too attached which was safer to him emotionally and meant that when Roland tried to overstep his boundaries Andrew didn’t have an emotional weakness for it and could shut it down, and not a massive amount of trust existed but more trust than potentially he would have with other people. Also I kind of think that part of why he was drawn to (/vulnerable to) Roland specifically had something to do with Roland as someone so tied to Nicky, and while Nicky and Aaron were in getting closer and Andrew was placing himself in the protector-not-family role and also everything that happened with the court/meds Andrew would feel flattered / get a type of validation from being able to attract Roland and be chosen over Nicky in a sense, and get a kind of satisfaction successfully keeping it a secret. Honestly I think Roland is for Andrew what Wren is for Spencer in a way (which makes Nicky the Melissa technically), so that kind of itself explains why Andrew doesn’t love him.

2)Matt — I think that Andrew Does find Matt attractive (and is annoyed about it) esp in moments where Matt loses his cool more ex. when he’s picking a fight, is really protective etc. but he would never develop deeper feelings both because of the way they interact based on the structure of the team, the role Andrew played pre series in Matt going to rehab (I don’t remember if this is explained in book 1 or 2 so idk if you read about that yet) etc. and aside from all that Matt just has too conventional a view on morality and is just too close to normal for Andrew to ever be interested enough. However in different storylines pre and during the series or if they met when they were younger I could see them having a fling even if canon-wise it would be out of the question for both.

3)Jeremy — Other than the obvious that they haven’t had nearly enough contact, Andrew would just never be into someone that bubbly and nice they’d never be compatible, and unlike Matt I don’t even think Andrew sees or would under any circumstances see any sort of edge to Jeremy that could make him a bit compelling. And I think it’s vice versa too they don’t dislike each other (Jeremy doesn’t seem to dislike anyone) but they’re not for each other at all. There’s one place where this pairing could happen at all and it’s in the sex dreams yk Kevin has had about it Lolz.

4)Jean — again the thing about contact and then I think across the board in canon and any version of post canon timeline for Kevin and Neil centric reasons Andrew would always hate him. I’m unsure how I think they’d interact if they met outside the parameters of the series, in a Raven Andrew Au I do think Andrew and Jean would have been close while Andrew and Kevin would decidedly Not be close, I don’t really think Andrew would ever view Jean romantically in those circumstances though.

5)Seth — like with Kavinsky this is low hanging fruit Andrew hated him and would never interact with him willingly.

Nico Di Angelo

three facts about them from my personal headcanons: 1. Rick is incorrect about Nico and Reyna not spending time together post boo he’s just insane for that. Nico is constantly spending time at Camp Jupiter to hang out with his sister and his pseudo sister and his brother in law who he likes to scare half to death for fun imo 2. I think he’d really enjoy things like MBTI and astrology he likes sorting and categorizing things and being a nerd see: Mythomagic 3. In addition to his Aquarius sun he’s a Scorpio moon, not decided on his rising yet

a reason they suck: I was completely drawing a blank because I can’t think of anything I dislike about him but then I remembered the tsats excerpts so I guess just being cringe in those is his biggest crime to date. Like I could say the holding grudges thing but honestly I’m a Taurus I get it

a reason they are great: He’s so smart and knowledgable and resourceful and resilient and I love that he’s so powerful while constantly underestimated, he’s also just. He has a complicated moral compass which makes him interesting and I really like that, but fundamentally he’s very loving.

a reason I relate to them: tbh you can copy paste what I said for Andrew p much + additionally when rereading last year I did connect with the way his grief is constantly present in his character post end of ttc, a lot actually :/.

(what I consider to be) the top tier otp/ot3 for that character: I resent this a little but Jason/Nico is definitely the most appealing one to me based on canon content. And for ot3 I Was having fun last year with reimagining part of hoo as a Leo-Jason-Nico love triangle, and Valdangelo has so much untapped potential so definitely the three of them.

five things that never happened to that character that I believe should have happened: 1) for the fact that chb is prejudiced against him to be acknowledged and not dismissed, I’m okay with there being some grey area in terms of him isolating himself because of trauma and that also being a factor, but not him being blamed for the alienation he experiences which is territory canon gets into at times 2) his final scene with Percy in BOO should have been more impactful and less of a joke and we should have gotten a sense of how they’ll mend their friendship 3) what I said before about Reyna and Hazel being largely involved with him getting to feel at home at camp and him clearly visiting them a lot 4) I want it acknowledged that Hades and the Furies and maybe Persephone must have tutored him because he dropped out of school in 5th grade I want to get insight on that experience. Which I fully believe happened but not 100% sure Rick does so counting it 5) I really like the Dionysus therapy thing but Chiron should be made to feel ashamed for his passivity and letting Nico be homeless in pjo

five people that character never fell in love with and why

1)Leo — Rick was simply too much of a coward to let them interact and have the arc of figuring out how compatible they would be.

2)Jason — I think Nico would be resistant to the idea of letting himself *go there* emotionally with another “hero” archetype in the timeline of canon bcs of the Percy thing. I do believe he had some latent attraction to Jason (him comparing Will’s and Jason’s looks in BOO is… telling lmao) and ofc definitely cared for him but it would have taken a while for love-level feelings to develop, though i definitely think they could have since Nico is the opposite of Andrew in that sense that he likes nice heroic boys only lol, and they definitely have points of connection so plenty of potential there. In the timeline of canon there’s way more evidence of Jason having strong romantic feelings/actually being smitten re: Nico which like I said I think was ultimately a good thing that made the dynamic a stand out compared to the status quo of both chars other dynamics, and also just a lot more palatable to me personally since my relationship with Jason as a char is … complicated lol, and I definitely would have Strongly resented a dynamic where the reverse was true in introduction.

3)Frank — he’s dating Hazel and age probably other things too .

4)Apollo — Okay so he definitely had a crush on him in TTC I don’t want that to be true but it is… BOO restated it too in a way…anyway though he would never fall in love with Apollo he hates his actual cocky personality (he’s fond of Lester/Apollo too but it’s the way you’d be fond of a really smelly and badly behaved dog tbh).

5)Octavian — because Octavian’s a little bitch Nico doesn’t have a lot of standards (bcs of the abandonment issues) but he does have Some standards.

[kanotototori]

Chapter 103-2

Happy extremely belated New Year’s, everyone - it is now February of 2023 buuuut this is my first meta of the year, so. :P

These Noragami thoughts where brought to you by “3 AM coffee and write the chapter thoughts post because it will never get done otherwise.”

Note: I had to remove all the links to my sources because Tumblr really hates them and so prevents the post from showing up in the tag. Urgh. Sorry about that.

Thoughts under the cut.

Word Count: 2,100~

Dated: February 6, 2023

Chapter 104-1

If you follow me on Twitter, you might have seen me change my mind about this chapter at least 3 times already - the truth is, I am still kind of on the fence about it. I think the next one and a half chapters could make or break the plot of this arc, depending on how Adachitoka chooses to contextualize Father’s new-found (asspull?) ability and what happens within the space this ability created. But that’s getting a bit ahead of things!

This page in particular is very intriguing to me.

 夜ト　おまえは言ったな　「どこの世界で生きてんだ」と

それがいい。今なら出来る

…この力を何と呼ぼう

What Father is quoting here ( どこの世界で生きてんだ ) is Yato’s line to him from Chapter 102-2: Lifeline.

I usually read Noragami chapter raws in full when they first come out and what I found interesting here is what comes after Father quotes that: それがいい。今なら出来る sore ga ii. ima nara dekiru (roughly, “That’s just fine/good. I/You can do that, now.”) The thing about Japanese is that it often omits the subject of a sentence if the subject can be inferred from the context of the conversation, which can be... quite vague, sometimes, more so in manga format where it isn’t always clear what the speaker is referring to. 今なら出来るin very literal terms would be something like “now, can do.” It’s not specified who can do (something) here: you could insert “you” or “I” or even “we” - if we’re counting Mizuchi as a participant in the conversation - as the pronoun and it would still make sense.

I think fast-moon’s translation makes perfect sense too but personally, when I first read this page, I inferred the subject to be Yato (”You can do that, now”) rather than Father (”That’s something I can do now”) because Father was quoting Yato (the subject of the sentence, the one doing the saying, おまえは言ったな... omae wa itta na). If Father was referring to himself, I would rather think that he would have used オレ (ore) preceding the sentence, the masculine pronoun that Father uses to refer to himself.

In that sense, I took it to be something like “You say I’m living in a completely different world, well, now you can do that too”, as in - you can live in that world (that I live in), too. Definitely take it with a grain of salt because I certainly don’t have as much translation experience as fast-moon buuut considering Hiyori sees the memories of the past in that void, I think it’s a reasonable interpretation to entertain.

102 also gave us this flashback, after all.

So, what is Birthing a Nation and what can it do? And - perhaps more importantly - where did this ability come from? (The jury is still out on whether it’s an asspull ability or not, lol, but I am definitely intrigued by it.)

The only thing we know for certain is that it can create a space: it is that black, reflective void that Shiiho likens to a lake, which is expanding (insert domain expansion joke here). Hiyori sees it as a space that is underwater, where several scenes can be seen. They might be memories, as we see the sakura tree under which Yato met Tamanone, Father and co.’s old hut, and possibly their home in Tamagahara. The end chapter note describes it as an “enchanted world” ( 魅せる世界, miseru sekai)* that was created by Birthing a Nation.

* Side note: I thought the 魅せる in 魅せる世界  miseru sekai was an alternative/archaic kanji spelling of the modern 見せる (miseru, “to see/to be shown”), but it’s actually a special class suru verb 魅 する (misuru, “to charm/to bewitch/to enchant”). I do wonder if it’s meant to be homonym worldplay on both  魅せる世界 “enchanted world” and 見せる世界 “world that can be seen/is shown”, Adachitoka does love their worldplay.

Its Japanese name, Kuni-umi ( 国生み ,”the birth/creation of the land/nation”), also alludes to this ability to create. As fast-moon pointed out in the translation notes, it specifically refers to the creation myth of the Japanese archipelago by Izanami and Izanagi.**

After the formation, Heaven was above and Earth was still a drifting soft mush. The first five gods named Kotoamatsukami (別天津神, "Separate Heavenly Deities") were lone deities without sex and did not reproduce. Then came the Kamiyonanayo (神世七代, "The Seven Divine Generations"), consisting of two lone deities followed by five couples. The elder gods delegated the youngest couple Izanagi and Izanami to carry out their venerable mandate: to reach down from heaven and give solid form to the earth.

This they did with the use of a precious stone-covered spear named Ame-no-nuboko (天沼矛, "heavenly jewelled spear"), given to them by the elders. Standing over the Ame-no-ukihashi (天浮橋, "floating bridge of heaven"), they churned the chaotic mass with the spear. When drops of salty water fell from the tip, they formed into the first island, Onogoroshima. In forming this island, both gods came down from heaven, and spontaneously built a central support column called the Ame-no-mihashira (天御柱, "heavenly pillar") which upheld the "hall measuring eight fathoms" that the gods caused to appear afterwards.

- Kuniumi, Wikipedia

** According to Wikipedia, Kuniumi in reference to this myth is spelled 国産み instead of 国生み, which is how it’s spelled in Noragami. The kanji 産 seems to have stronger connections solely to the act of childbirth, among other things. While 生み can also mean “birth, giving birth”, it can also refer to the act of creation, “bringing into the world.”

I remarked (partly in jest) that Father has become undeniably “Izanagi-coded” buuuut in truth, he has always been partly “Izanagi-coded” in the sense that he seems to have been inspired by the mythos of Izanagi (an idea that @nyappytown​ helped me tap into with her brilliant breakdowns of Susanoo inspirations in Yato’s character). I touched on this briefly when I did my post on the origins of the mythical magatsuhi-no-kami 禍津日神 (once again Noragami’s spelling differs a bit, magatsukami 禍津神, even though clearly this concept was inspired by the myth). It warrants another mention because immediately following the Kuniumi came the Kamiumi 神産み (”the birth of the kami”), a period where many kami were born from Izanagi and Izanami’s union, then Izanami’s death, Kagutsuchi’s death, during Izanagi’s escape from Yomi, and, finally, during Izanagi’s purification following his return from Yomi.

I think a lot of the comparisons to the Izanagi mythos re: Father came from the fact that he calls himself “Father” (as in, the “father” of the gods, in a sense) and the parallels with his descent into Yomi (I think it’s fair to say that Father seeing Kaya’s likeness in Izanami can be compared to Izanagi descending into Yomi specifically to see Izanami, his deceased wife, on some level) and subsequent return from Yomi. Father returning from Yomi has certainly been talked about a lot but the immediate aftermath has not yet come up - I think it’s safe to bet that it will be drawing from Izanagi’s purification, the last part of the Kamiumi.

The TL;DR of the Izanagi purification story, as written on Izanagi’s Wikipedia page (complete with citations that I will not include here):

Izanagi, feeling contaminated by his visit to Yomi, went to "[the plain of] Awagihara (i.e. a plain covered with awagi) by the river-mouth of Tachibana in Himuka in [the island of] Tsukushi" and purified himself by bathing in the river; various deities came into existence as he stripped off his clothes and accouterments and immersed himself in the water. The three most important kami, the "Three Precious Children" (三貴子 mihashira no uzu no miko or sankishi) – the sun goddess Amaterasu Ōmikami, the moon deity Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto, and the storm god Susanoo-no-Mikoto – were born when Izanagi washed his left eye, his right eye, and his nose, respectively.

(Note: As you can see, water plays a big theme in Shinto. The islands of Japan were born out of the sediment in the ocean, and here, it is an agent of purification by which one can clean themselves of ritual impurity, kegare 穢れ. That continues to be the case in modern day practices, which you can see at Shinto shrines, and in Noragami as well - clean water is used to purify blight caused by ayakashi.)

The Kamiumi Wikipedia page goes on to elaborate that Omaga-tsuhi (Magatsuhi-no-kami, just a slightly different variation of the name) was the second god born of the impurities that were stripped from Izanagi after he discarded his clothes, following his return from Yomi. According to Japanese Wiki Corpus, Magatsuhi-no-kami is a god of disasters.

I won’t rehash too much of what I said in “On Matagtsukami: A Few Noragami Thoughts” but one thought has got me thinking:

How exactly was Yato wished into existence by Father, from a single strong wish? Perhaps, just maybe, the thing that some people argued would make it implausible for Yato to have been born from Father’s wish - the fact that his return from Yomi rendered him no longer fully human - is the very thing that enabled it to happen in the first place? Could it have been from the purification process after returning from Yomi? Or maybe with the help of the Brush - not Father forcing another name on an already existing, reincarnated god, but by using the Brush as a catalyst for the manifestation of Father’s wish in some way, since Yato was born after Mizuchi had been named with the Brush?

Bear with me, here.

It was said a few chapters ago that the Brush has been “infused with Izanami’s spirit” - it has Izanami’s power in it, and that’s probably why it works and simply naming ayakashi with a mask and incantation does not. After all, ayakashi have “lost their spirit” and have “neither true names nor human forms” - they are simply vectors of negative energy and impurities.

Side note: Just realized we got pretty much the same visual in this chapter. Not a coincidence by any stretch of the imagination.

But Izanami helped create the islands of Japan, her power is (was?) “creation”, just as it is Izanagi’s. Her status as the “matron god” (国母たる神, koku botaru kami) of the country has even brought up in 103-2.

I suspect that Father had “infused” himself with the power within the Word by drawing the ayakshi eye on his face, giving him abilities similar to that of Izanami. We never really got an explanation of the powers we see her use in Yomi. Naming ayakashi and corrupted spirits is one thing... using such a power on a spirit akin to a deity might be entirely another. (Considering the fact that Izanami is sealed in Yomi and the whole “laws of the Underworld” we’ve gotten a few chapters ago, though, I can’t see this ending well for Father.)

(Note: The above panel of Izanami is from Chapter 36, titled 呪 縛 Jyuubaku, “Binding Curse/Spell.” It’s the chapter in which Izanami completely seals off Yomi to prevent Yato from escaping. Possibly the name of one of her abilities?

Also, I’ve always thought some of the patterns bear a striking resemblance to Jomon pottery.

From Prehistoric Japanese Pottery.)

Birthing a Nation being a reference to the creation of Japan would seem to confirm that, indeed, the Brush has powers of “creation” - Izanami’s powers. In tandem with the myth of the birth of many gods following Izanagi’s return from Yomi (and the established parallels with Father), I would not be surprised if Father had somehow used that power to create Yato, hence why just one man/deity/goryo was able to create a kami when it shouldn’t have been possible.

Considering that the last Brush was said to be weaker than the current one Father is using, I do think that another element was needed for a kami to be created. As to what that would be, I have no idea - this theory certainly has its holes, it’s not perfect, but I wouldn’t say it’s far-fetched, either. A lot of kami seem to be born from things like blood and random articles of clothing so maybe that’s on the table? ;P

But back to Birthing a Nation. So, it has created a space that looks like a reflective, watery void, bearing the same patterns that we see Izanami use in Yomi. Hiyori sees what seem like memories but... what is that space? What is actually in it?

I don’t think they necessarily have to be memories. Seeing as Father was specifically responding to “you’re living in a completely different world”/”just what world are you living in?”, I think it could be any number of things. Does Father want Yato to experience the world as he sees it (considering that Yato specifically said he doesn't know "what bullshit you think you've been seeing or hearing")? Is he sending him back to the past? Has it something to do with Father's or Yato's memories?

...Is he creating another alternative timeline altogether?

I guess that remains to be seen. But I think we are going to be seeing Father’s return from Yomi and Yato’s birth very soon!

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fic: Lonely, Dark and Deep - ao3 link - Chapter 6

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Madara/Tobirama, background others Summary:

Hashirama was always going to have to leave Konoha behind one day, but no one was expecting for it to happen so soon.

Tobirama falls apart without his brother.

Madara, mad and bitter and preparing to leave himself, finds that he’s now without his best friend and responsible for a village he’d just about given up on.

And now it seems like there’s something not quite right with the forest…

———————————————————————————–

I’m sorry, Madara.

Tobirama can’t help but think of it that way, oddly enough. He wouldn’t have thought that that’d be the thought that keeps plaguing him, but somehow, it is.

Madara, who tried so hard – who helps when he can, doing whatever he can – doing far more than Tobirama ever expected, really. Someone to help with the paperwork, someone to share the burden, someone to keep him company, even a body to warm him at night…

It really has helped.

Tobirama would have been dead without him.

It’s not – it’s not a brother, no. But it’s something.

To Tobirama’s surprise, it’s more than the stopgap he initially assumed it would be.

Indeed, now that Madara is not insane, not driven mad by pain and anger and loss, not burdened by the curse of hatred, Tobirama can see why Hashirama liked him so much. Clever and creative, with a wit biting almost to the point of pain; compassionate, in his own way, behind the mask of a misanthropic grouch he likes to cart around – fond of children, who are fond of him in return now that he no longer looks on the verge of murder.

Exceptionally devoted to the village he named.

(Just seeing Madara reminds Tobirama of the best parts of his brother. To watch Madara walk through the village is to see Hashirama do the same, a missing shadow, and Tobirama thought that would hurt, but – it doesn’t. It makes Tobirama feel like Hashirama's only in the next room hiding away from them, fearful of the paperwork they’re going to make him do, and pretending that that is the case makes the days just barely bearable.)

Maybe if Izuna’s death didn’t lie between them –

But no.

It does, it’s there, and for all that Tobirama has retroactively learned regret, sometimes plays with seals that verge on breaking the flow of time itself if only he could go back to fix it, he can’t. He will always be the man who murdered Madara’s brother, and he can’t change that.

He can’t make Madara forget it, and that means it’s pointless to hope – to dream that they could ever be more than they are.

More than just a stopgap.

Maybe things would be different, if they were more than that – but they’re not.

And so the decision is easy.

Easier than it should be.

I’m sorry, Madara.

Tobirama promised the man that he would never to turn his sword against himself, and he intends to keep that promise – but there are times when a sacrifice is called for, and Tobirama would never sacrifice his students if he could sacrifice himself instead.

They're all exhausted by now, running on empty. Kiri has sent so many more shinobi to ambush them than they'd ever anticipated could be possible‎.

They've left a mountain of corpses behind them, but there are still more - the strongest ones, the most ruthless ones, the ones who are waiting until they've been worn to nothing before striking, the ones who will undoubtedly boast about having caused the demise of Konoha's best even as they stand on the shoulders of all who came before.

They're so tired - and no one is more tired than Tobirama.

He's been tired for so long. Nothing has mattered since Hashirama died, not really - he loves his students, he loves his sister-in-law and her children, he loves his village, but it's not enough‎.

Nothing is enough.

Even Madara, Madara and their half-unspoken thing, their stopgap, their it-might-have-been-if-things-were-different –

Well, in the end, he's not enough, either.

Tobirama misses his brother.

He misses his brother so much.

He misses Hashirama’s enthusiasm and his charisma, the way he saw the future of their village, of peace, like it was a physical thing. Tobirama’s nothing like that – for him, though he tries his best, trying to create a peaceful future is like walking through a fog following a map you’ve only ever heard of second-hand, now that the one who could see the way is gone.

His guiding light is gone.

He wants, more than anything, to see his brother again.

Tobirama wants to be clear, though, that no matter what Madara heavily implies (and sometimes states outright), he is not actively suicidal, or at least he’s not anymore. He hasn’t made any concrete plans to kill himself – and anyway, he can’t; he knows that, now that his mind is clear.

Hashirama entrusted the village to his hands, and he would never reject any gift his brother gave him, no matter how heavy the burden falls.

He will not let him down. He will not let the village down.

(He might let Madara down.)

So, he’s not suicidal. And if he sometimes wishes there was a jutsu that could simply make him not be anymore, without causing any inconvenience to anyone, well, that’s his own business.

It doesn’t matter as long as he doesn’t do anything about it.

But when he and his students agree that the only way for most of them to survive is ‎for one of them to act as a lure, even knowing that whoever volunteers for that will not come back alive –

The choice is easy.

It isn’t really suicide if it’s for a good reason, surely, and what better reason than to save his students’ lives?

(He knows he’s lying. He knows exactly what he’s doing, but – he’s so tired. He’s tired, and he misses his brother.)

His students look at him with hurt eyes, mouths shaping around cries of "no!" and "it's too soon!" in just the way his own did when it was Hashirama’s turn to leave him behind, but Tobirama knows that ‎they'll be fine without him.

They’re strong and skilled, and he’s taught them everything he knows; they’ve been refusing to take the graduation exams despite his occasional hints that they were more than ready, but he suspects that has more to do with wanting to keep him as their teacher than anything else.

And as for the village, well – Madara will be a good Hokage, and, if he refuses, either Sarutobi or Kagami would be eminently suitable to stand for election, and he tells them as much.

They will tend carefully to Hashirama's village, make it prosper, and they will live, and that's all he really cares about now, isn't it? That's all.‎

He can die easy, knowing that everything that really means something will be taken care of.

(If he feels slightly bad about dying before helping Madara complete his Rinnegan project, well, at least they’ve made some progress; Madara can surely finish the rest himself, if at a slower pace. Maybe that will help compensate Madara for losing the only thing between him and the role of Hokage, which Madara – although eminently suited for – very loudly does not want.)

It won’t be a bad death.

He can die easy‎ - and surely, surely if he dies in the forest, defending his brother's village and its children, then fate will not be so cruel as to deny him the chance to see Hashirama one more time.

Surely.

The decision made, Tobirama sends his students away and turns to face his enemies, dropping into a ready position. He may not have anything to live for, but he is as stubborn and spiteful as he has ever been, and he will not simply give in and let them kill him.

He'll make them pay for the privilege in blood.

‎The ensuing fight is long and painful - the Kiri nin are cautious of him, even in his drained and weakened state, even with a stab wound in his side inhibiting his movements, even with his sword arm partially dislocated, rendering every strike agony. They hang back, slicing at him from a distance, and he's not fast enough right now to avoid them.

Death of a thousand cuts, he thinks at one point, nearly delirious from blood loss. And I won't even be able to see the last one coming.

A nasty strike to his head has rendered him nearly blind, blood gushing out to drip into his already poor eyes; he's been using some of it to form bullets or dragons, red and fierce as iron, but his chakra is low, too low, and he can't spare the energy to wipe the blood away, much less heal himself.

He's going to die.

It's so close, he can almost feel it - he even imagines he can feel Hashirama's so-familiar chakra, rich with growth and tasting of green, rough-textured like bark and soft as moss. It's all around him now, warm and welcoming.

No, death won't be so bad, if it means he gets to see Hashirama again.

Not so bad at all...

"This won't do, Tobirama," a voice says, welcome and beloved, and Tobirama recognizes that voice.

How could he not? It sang him to sleep as a newborn; it was by his side his whole life; it has been so notable in its absence these past few years that just hearing it again is enough to send Tobirama to his knees, tears welling in his eyes and bile on his tongue.

It cannot be.

It cannot be.

And yet – who else could it be but him?

Who else, but –

"Hashirama," he croaks.

As if summoned by his words, the forest springs to life around him, roots and branches becoming weapons, the trees themselves reaching for the Kiri nin who blanch and try to run.

Try, because no one ever escapes the Mokuton when Hashirama is really trying.

Tobirama can't tear his barely-seeing eyes away from his enemies as they die, the familiar sight of trees given life by Mokuton too dear a sight to miss. He can't bring himself to turn his head to look at his brother - his wonderful, beloved, dead brother, who remembers his name and remembers he loves him and whose presence is so much everything that Tobirama wants that he's suddenly convinced that he's been trapped in the most terrible type of genjutsu.

‎He can't turn to look, because what if it's not him?

What if it's a dream, a delusion, genjustu or even a henge – a pale imitation that's stolen his brother’s voice and power and is using it only to distract him?

Tobirama couldn't bear it.

If the Kiri nin wanted to make him die by his own hand, that would do it; they wouldn't need anything more than that. To give him the hope of Hashirama, and then to find out it was all a lie -

Even Madara in the worst of his madness would not have been so cruel.

Out of the corner of his eye, in the last dark blurry bit of vision he has left, he sees a shadow of something in the wood, large and overgrown and old, but before he can even wonder about it his senses are flooded with familiar chakra.

His brother’s chakra – his brother, unforgettable, vast and overwhelming, a little different perhaps than exactly what he remembers it being but still unmistakably Hashirama’s –

The next thing Tobirama knows he's being gathered up into Hashirama's arms, just the way he remembers from when he was just a toddler - lifted up in arms far larger than his own, surrounded and encompassed and protected by the feeling that has always meant safety.

No one could mimic that chakra, that feeling, not from such close range and against a sensor as strong as Tobirama, no one.

He’s overwhelmed by a wash of relief.

It’s not because he’s alive.

It’s because Hashirama is.

Somehow, impossibly - he's alive.

Tobirama opens eyes that he must have closed at some point to look, terror gone and replaced by a budding sense of joy, suddenly eager to look - ‎

Except it seems he didn't close his eyes after all. No matter how he tries, he can’t see anything at all, the blood loss turning the world around him into vacant blackness as his consciousness leaves him.

But ‎he can still hear.

"Sleep, Tobirama," his brother croons. "I'll take care of you - and I'll be here when you wake up."

Hashirama has always known exactly what to say.

Sleep snatches Tobirama away.

[avarkriss]

The first thing my eyeballs saw on this website was the shrimp quiz and I just. I love you 😂

CAN'T BELIEVE IM JUST SEEING THIS NOW

But I'm always happy to bring joy and a little bit of chaos 💕

Love you, and I hope you're having the beautiful day you deserve!

[quokkacore]

crawling back to you | s.jn (m)

minors dni with this post

summary: the last time you and johnny saw each other, it didn’t end well. what happens now, when you show up and try to let him go, even if you don’t want to?

pairing: stripper!johnny x mobboss!reader

genre: SO much angst, smut, fwb-to-lovers, stripper!au, mafia!au

warnings: taeyong sweetie i am SO sorry, language, alcohol consumption, sexual content, mentions of murder and mob/gang related violence, implied bisexual reader (could also be interpreted as pansexual whichever one u want rlly), reader has commitment issues and issues expressing her emotions, both johnny and reader are implied to be switches and switch dynamics often but here johnny is domming (sorta), at one point johnny calls reader a bitch (and not in a fun kinky way), they’re both low-key assholes (aka not the Healthiest of Relationships), johnny brushes y/n off, dubious consent if you squint?, safe-wording (they still kind of have sex after they’ve talked through it so regardless of the safe word it’s consensual), degradation, non-penetrative sex, praise kink, nipple play, biting, scratching, minor exhibitionism???, cunnilingus, cumplay, overstimulation

word count: 6.7k

song recs: j balvin & bad bunny - la canción // nathy peluso - mafiosa // nathy peluso - business woman // nathy peluso - delito // kali uchis - aguardiente y limón // kali uchis - fue mejor

a/n: happy belated valentines day! i know i’ve been inconsistent with posting but i promise i’m trying to finish all of the fics i have overdue. hopefully this is a start.

masterlist

The club was louder than you remembered. Yes, you remembered the thumping bass, the lights constantly flashing on your face. But everything seemed different somehow. 

Maybe that was because you were the one that was different. 

The second Taeyong saw you in the crowd, he ran up to you, only to be blocked by your two bodyguards. You waved them off almost immediately, knowing Taeyong would never want to harm one of his highest paying clients.

“Miss L/N,” He hummed, “You’re back! We were wondering when you’d return.”

“I’ve been away,” You replied, not meeting his enthusiasm, “Business trip. A long one. I’m glad to be back. Who’s dancing tonight?”

“Ten is up on the main stage right now. After that, Seulgi and Irene are performing together, then, uh, let me think…” A sly grin spread across his face, “Johnny. He’s the main event tonight.”

You nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind. Private rooms are still the same as always, right?”

Taeyong grinned. “Oh, they’ve gone up… a little, but not too much. You’ll just have to choose quickly. You know how fast they go, especially with the lineup we have tonight. I can have one set up for you, you just let me know.”

You nodded, face stoic. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Not saying another word, you stalked off toward the bar. The bartender—Jaehyun—seemed to eye you with curiosity. “It’s been a long time since I saw you around here,” He said, speaking over the music. The song was slow yet sensual, and you sat down, facing the stage, leaning back against the bar.”

“I had issues to tend to,” You answered, “Can I just get some scotch?”

He nodded. “On it,” He answered. 

You watched the dancer—Ten—up on stage. His movements were graceful, feline. Your eyes followed his every movement, wondering deep down what the vast swathes of his oiled-up skin tasted like.

This is what you liked about this club, The Muse. Despite it being a strip club, you found it more tasteful than some of the other ones around the city. You supposed that some people might find loud, bass-filled strip clubs with ripped men twerking in jockstraps or excessively humping the stage to be extremely appealing, but it wasn’t quite your thing. 

You preferred toned-down, restrained yet sensual. Classier wasn’t quite the word, nor was it more conservative—classy implied that the other type of strip clubs were devoid of class, when you knew both were the same job, just different styles. And the words strip clubs and conservative belonged nowhere in the same sentence, unless the words are not at all were in between.

So you settled for different. You enjoyed coming to The Muse because the music wasn’t too loud, the dancing was teasingly seductive, and the alcohol was decent, and there was no particular look or gender to any of their dancers. Ten was lithe, androgynous. You knew of at least one dancer who was of a thicker build, that danced here on Thursdays and was one of the prettiest girls you’d ever seen. 

And then there was Johnny. As you watched Ten wrap up his number, and Jaehyun handed you your scotch, your mind drifted to your… favorite dancer. 

Tall, well-built, with dark, alluring eyes. His dancing and his gaze were an absolutely lethal mix. In your time frequenting The Muse, you’d let many dancers into your bed—some out of genuine mutual interest, most because you’d offered a hefty price.

But Johnny wasn’t drawn in by the money—not completely. He was drawn in by the mystery of you. Yes, initially you’d lured him in with the promise of a hefty sum of money in his bank account. But he kept coming back. And for almost a year, you let him. You wanted him to. 

He learned your habits, what made you tick, what made you go crazy in bed. You learned how he’d come to be involved in all of this: he’d needed some extra cash during college, and quickly learned he didn’t want to be an accountant, but that his true passion was dancing, and that he’d actually managed to get his bachelor’s—just in case, he’d told you—but this was where he wanted to be. That he loved all of this: the money, the attention on him, the rush of adrenaline he got every time he got onto that stage. And he loved a power struggle.

The two girls, Seulgi and Irene, were hypnotic. They seemed to entrance not only the audience, but each other as well. You’d fallen into bed with Seulgi once—you knew the power she had. Irene was also a force to be reckoned with, she was a siren. They held onto each other's waists and swiveled their hips, gaze moving between each other and the audience. Not only was there one siren, but two—and all of the people watching were drifting dangerously close to the rocks.

Their number went on, and you nursed your scotch. Throat and chest burning, but not for the same reason. As much as you enjoyed watching the two girls caress each other and dance around the stage and the pole, your heart and mind were elsewhere.

The last time you’d seen Johnny, actually. That’s where you were. Three months ago.

His head was resting in the crook of your neck. The two of you were panting, coming down from a mutual peak of ecstasy. One of his hands was cradling your neck, the other around your waist. 

“Someone was eager,” He mumbled, and you huffed and slapped his shoulder, but there was no real malice in it.

“You act as if you didn’t call me mommy last time we did this,” You said into his hair. He laughed softly, and pressed a kiss to your collarbone. The silence was filled with the sound of his soft breathing, until he broke it again. 

“I’ve been thinking,” He murmured, lifting his head to look at you. In the dark, you could make out most of his features, but only so much. 

“What is it?” 

He took a deep breath. “I know… I know you don’t like commitment. You’ve told me a million times. I just… Y/N, I really like you.”

You squirmed beneath him, looking off to the side. “Johnny…”

“I know, I know. Just please listen to me. We don’t have to call this anything. Not if you want. I just want to know that you’re not out there with anyone else. You don’t have to be mine, necessarily… Just don’t be anyone else’s.”

Your hands tried to move him off of you, but his hands came up to grasp yours. You sighed. 

“You know why I can’t do that, Johnny.”

He sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “You could come to me. I would never go to you. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.”

Again, you tried to push him off. This time, when you tugged at his hands, he let go and sat up. “You would resent me for that. What about when you need someone? I couldn’t do that to you. You don’t deserve that.”

He shook his head. When you tried to touch his face, he pushed your hand away. “It’s not about what I deserve. You think I don’t know that me willing to ask for so little is pathetic? I know I deserve better. But that’s not what I want.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat. “And just what is it that you want, Johnny?” Your voice was hoarse.

Finally, he looked at you. Having sat up, his face caught some of the streetlights from the outside. In the dim light, he looked so pained. “I want you, Y/N. I want us.”

You clenched your jaw. When you spoke, your voice was barely a whisper. “I want that too.”

His eyes lit up, but then you opened your mouth. “But it’s not something I can give you. Not without putting you in danger.”

“I don’t care about the danger,” He argued, voice suddenly louder, “I’m not a kid. I’m a big boy, okay? I know how to take care of myself.”

You pressed a palm to your forehead, looking at your lap. 

“My mother,” You said, “Was killed by a car bomb when I was a little girl. All because my dad refused to let some gang of kids deal their drugs on his turf. I don’t doubt that you can take care of yourself. But there are some things that are out of your control. Yes, what I helped build is powerful. But it’s fragile, and I’m not untouchable. The people who I care about, even more so. Which is why I don’t like to care about anyone.”

He didn’t answer. You looked up at him. He was staring at the bedroom door, and you felt your heart clench. 

“You’re the first person I’ve truly cared about in a long time, Johnny. Which is why I can’t put you in danger. I refuse to do it.”

Johnny’s hands clenched into fists, before standing. He started pulling his clothes on, without saying anything, or even looking at you. You stood, sensing the waves of anger rolling off of him. You pulled on your shirt and your underwear haphazardly, ignoring Johnny’s cum trickling down the inside of your leg. 

“Johnny.”

He didn’t answer, pulling on his shirt, before reaching for his jacket. You sighed, trying to reach for his shoulder.

“Johnny, please—”

“Save it!” He snapped, slapping your hand away. “I’m tired of this, Y/N. I’ve given all of myself to you. I’ve laid it out bare, and you don’t even care. You’re the coldest woman I’ve ever fucking met.”

You took a step back. “I don’t care? Of course I care, Johnny. That’s why I’m doing this. I would love to be with you. But the syndicate is growing more and more fragile by the day. I’m trying to hold onto control, but there’s only so much I can do. And if it becomes weak enough? I have a long list of enemies who would love to hurt me, who know how this game works. They know that the closest way to hurt me without touching me directly is to go after the people I—the people I care about.”

Following him into your living room, you gnawed on your lip. “I’m not going to watch you get hurt, or even worse, get killed—I would never forgive myself if they touched you—”

He whirled on you. “Jesus, Y/N, what’s it going to take for you to realize that I don’t care about being in danger? I could get blown up tomorrow and I’d be the happiest man on Earth if you would just let me in—”

“Don’t talk like that,” You snapped, “Why would you even say something so horrible—?”

“Because I’m in love with you, okay!?”

Johnny’s eyes widened immediately, as if he hadn’t meant to say that. Your mouth gaped like a fish out of water. Your mouth went dry, and your heart began to race. 

He took your lack of response as a response itself. He shook his head, scoffing. “And of course you’re not even going to say it back,” He muttered, more to himself, “Even though I know you feel the same way.”

 Heading for the door, you realized what was happening. “Johnny, wait—don’t go—”

“No.” Johnny shook his head, pulling his shoes on. He reached for the door handle, before turning to give you one last nasty look. “I’m not going to spend another second with you, you—you fucking cold-ass heartless bitch.”

You stumbled back as though you’d been punched, face falling. And a few seconds later, your door slammed shut, the sound so loud it made your ears ring.

As the two girls launched into another song, you stared down at the pieces of ice swirling around your glass. When you looked up and around the place, among the business men and waiters and waitresses attending to them, you saw Taeyong, watching the girls as if studying for scrutiny. You pushed yourself off of the bar and walked toward him, drink still in hand.

I must be insane, you thought to yourself, before downing the rest of the scotch. You winced and your throat burned, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask Taeyong without the extra push. 

“I was wondering when you’d come over,” He said with a knowing smile. Your face remained straight.

“Does Johnny still have any available slots tonight?” You asked. Taeyong thought for a second, before nodding.

“He has one at around 12:30,” He answered, nodding. “I could squeeze you in, if you’d like.” 

Pulling out your checkbook, you wrote down the number he said, internally rolling your eyes at the number of zeroes Taeyong had you write down. Lee Taeyong, you thought, you stingy motherfucker.   

 When he had it in his hands, he grinned as if he were a little girl getting a pony for her birthday. “I’ll have someone come and get you when it’s time.”

You nodded, before returning to the bar. Jaehyun eyed you curiously. “Whose slot did you get?”

“One of Johnny’s,” You mumbled, “Can I get some more scotch?”

Jaehyun raised an eyebrow, before nodding. As he refilled your glass, he told you, “He’s not happy with you, you know that, right?”

For a moment, you were confused as to how Jaehyun knew—but then you remembered that Johnny had told you they were good friends. Finally, you nodded. “I’m not very happy with myself, either. Which is why I came here to apologize and tell him goodbye.”

“You’re finally making s—wait, what?”

Shrugging, you took back the glass. “I made a mistake letting him back in so many times. It wasn’t good for either of us. I hurt him, really badly. And I don’t want to put him through it anymore. He deserves better.”

Jaehyun didn’t answer, not for a while. He was cleaning some glasses, and went on to serve another man on the other side of the bar. The entire time your eyes remained trained on Seulgi and Irene, silently wondering if it would be a good idea to see what Irene had to offer the next time you came back here.

If you ever came back here. After tonight, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to face Johnny ever again. 

Deep down, you felt pathetic. You’d killed countless men, by your own hands and by giving the order. Y/N L/N, ruler of what had once been your father’s empire—the L/N crime syndicate. You were supposed to be fearless, ruthless. Cold. 

As far as Johnny was concerned, you were only one of those things. Maybe two, if you considered the semantics between being a cold person and a ruthless person. But fearless?

You had half a mind to bolt out of the place as the two girls finished their routine. They were meant with thunderous applause, bills being thrown at them and the occasional whistle. Deep down you knew you had to stay—you’d already paid Taeyong, closure would be the best thing for the both of you, the sooner you said goodbye to Johnny the sooner he could work through all the hurt you’d put him through and eventually move on. 

But that didn’t help the sensation of your heart in your throat as the DJ thanked the girls for their routine and started to talk about the next performer. You couldn’t catch any of what he was saying, too busy downing your scotch in record time to ease your nerves. What you were able to catch were stray words here and there—“seductive” and “powerful”.

As he finally introduced the next dancer, the lights dimmed, turning the lights of the club a bluish purple. And then, he emerged from behind the curtain. 

God, he looked just as beautiful as the last time you’d seen him, although the last time he’d been simmering with rage. Here, he was almost serpentine—tempting, calm but ready to strike. His movements were deliberate, walking towards the pole as though he knew that this was what he was made to do. He was dressed only in skintight shorts that hid nothing. 

And as the music started, a deeper feminine voice crooning words in Spanish atop a slow, rhythmic beat, you recognized that this likely was what he’d been put on this planet to do. He spun around the pole like he owned it, wrapping one of his legs around it and throwing his head back. 

This should be used for scientific endeavor, you mused to yourself, to prove that we came from stardust and the cosmos, because no earthly being could ever be as beautiful, as graceful as him doing this. 

“You haven’t learned your lesson, apparently,” Jaehyun said finally, causing you to jump as you snapped out of your trance. Turning to face him, you shook your head in confusion. 

“What?”

“He told me what he told you. It’s not about what he deserves. As his friend, I don’t want to see him curled up with a mob boss, and definitely not one like you because honestly? You’re right, he does deserve better. But he’s willing to risk it all to be with you. Are you really going to throw that away? When’s the next time you’ll find someone willing to do that for you?”

“I don’t intend on finding out,” You answered, “Because I’m not letting it happen again.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Jaehyun countered, “You’re a lot of things, Y/N, but you’re still human. You can’t hold people at arm’s length forever. Even if you let Johnny go, it’s bound to happen again. Aren’t you lonely? Don’t you ever want someone?”

You didn’t answer, but rather looked down at your glass. It was empty again. For a second, you considered asking Jaehyun for another refill, but decided against it. You needed to be as sober as possible to talk to Johnny, and you’d already had a considerable amount. Yes, you felt fine enough, but you knew that soon you’d be feeling the effects of it soon. 

“Think about it before you talk to him.” Jaehyun leaned back against the bar. “He really cares about you, Y/N. I haven’t seen him care about anyone like this in a really long time.”

He sauntered off, probably to attend to another client, and you were left sitting there, watching Johnny. You were almost grateful he hadn’t noticed you. Until he spotted you you still had an out.

Of course, the second you thought that, Johnny let go of the pole, standing in front of it. For a second, he bent over, before flipping back up, reachin up to grip the pole and flip his hair back. All in your direction. His eyes, to anyone else, gave away nothing. But this was the man you’d spent close to a year memorizing, committing every detail to memory. You knew even halfway across the room, you saw the spark of recognition in his gaze a second after he spotted you. The hesitation before his next move was more obvious, and you forced yourself to not look away, to not let your expression change, lest you give away your emotions. 

What seemed like an eternity later, he tore his eyes from yours, continuing his routine. Deep down, you felt grateful that he had  Your heart seemingly refused to settle in your chest, your legs suddenly felt heavier. As he kneeled, pole between his legs, and rolled his hips slowly, purposefully, you felt your face warm. You swallowed. 

You’d found out what those hips could do, from above and below. Memories of the two of you flowed through your mind. A few moments later, he looked at you again. His eyes were dark, brows turned downward. For a second you thought he was angry.  

  Then your eyes trailed down, raking over planes of muscle you could practically taste. You swallowed when you realized the tent in his shorts. You weren’t the only one to realize it, the volume of the chatter in the room rising, bills flying at the stage. And of course, because he was the snake and you were Eve, he lifted his hand, using two fingers to draw a line from his neck, to his sternum, to his stomach, before finally gripping his clothed hard-on, all while staring at you. 

The moment lasted less than five seconds, but felt like an eternity. For that briefest forever, all the other people in the room, all of your duties, and everything that had happened the last time you’d seen each other ceased to exist. His sole purpose was to dance for you, to lead you into temptation. 

For the rest of his routine, you sat there, still as a statue, eyes trained on him. Of course, he couldn’t just pay attention to you—there was a slew of clientele here tonight. He needed to do his best to keep them all entertained, to keep the money coming in. But every now and then, his eyes would meet yours. 

And every time, it became a battle of dominance, just like every single time you’d lain with him. Sometimes, all of the sensations, the guilt, the sadness, the shame and burning desire became too much to handle, and you simply had to look away. But other times, you’d hold on just long enough for him to have to move on in his number, to rip his eyes off of yours and eye-fuck the next person whose eyes were on him. 

During that time, you watched as he let businessmen run their hands down his chest, like you’d done before. You watched as his hand brushed up a woman’s arm, brushing her neck as she burned bright red, and you recalled the times you’d submitted to him, letting his grip tighten around your windpipe.

It felt wrong, the anger simmering in your chest. You knew the jealousy swimming in your gut was misplaced, and was rich coming from you. He wasn’t yours. You didn’t want him to be, not for his sake.

Oh, but you did, because you were so selfish it was laughable. You wanted to hold him in your clutches and keep everyone away, regardless of their intentions. You knew it wasn’t healthy, even if the two of you were on good terms. But this was how you were. You’d grown up wanting for nothing, getting everything you’d ever wanted at the drop of a hat. Fully well, you could acknowledge: you were spoiled, you were selfish, these weren’t good qualities. And here you were, about to throw a tantrum over the one thing you’d convinced yourself you should never have.

Johnny.

By the time he was done, two songs later, you’d broken out into a sweat, underneath your silk button up and dress pants. You were having trouble breathing evenly. And until Taeyong came to get you, you remained silent, mulling over your words, preparing the speech you’d given him. The entire time, Jaehyun’s words, as well as Johnny’s, echoed in your head. It was almost as if they were fighting back. You only spoke when Jaehyun came around to offer you another drink, and you’d refused. 

Now, Taeyong was whisking you away to a door that led backstage. In the back of your head, you felt kind of sleepy. But you knew where you were going, what you needed to do.

You sat in the room for a few minutes, alone. There was a singular round couch, some alcohol bottles on an open display, and a pole in the middle of the room. The only light was a neon green light behind you. You were bouncing your knee anxiously when you heard the door open, and you turned just in time to hear him speak. 

“Look who’s finally back.” He didn’t sound particularly happy. Your chest ached, but you couldn’t blame him. 

“Johnny,” You breathed as he came closer. He leaned back against the pole, crossing his arms. He was dressed in a black silk robe, revealing only below his knees and some skin on his chest. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” He said, looking down at you, “What brings you here now?”

You sighed. “I wanted to come sooner, to talk to you. Not immediately of course, I wanted to give you time. But a few weeks after some… things happened with a partner overseas. I had to fly in to get it settled personally. Too complicated to explain now. I only got back two days ago.”

He nodded, but his face remained unchanged. “So you want to just talk, hm? You don’t want to get your money’s worth, here?”

Swallowing, you hesitated to answer. “I mean—I’d rather just—”

He shook his head. “No, no. I saw the check you wrote Taeyong—now there is a man who drives a hard bargain,” He said, chuckling, “I’ll give you a show. And if there’s time left over, then we can talk.”

Your heart sank in your chest. He wasn’t even giving you a chance. Vaguely, you wondered if you even deserved one. He sauntered over to the bar, picking up a remote and pressing some buttons. Music began playing, and you recognized the same singer from the first song he’d played earlier. 

It felt like a crime that you weren’t able to fully appreciate Johnny’s dancing. Alone, for your eyes only, he was even more tempting. Throwing his head back, rarely breaking eye contact, running his hands up and down his body, contorting his statuesque frame as it spun along the pole so that his legs were spread, showing off the definition of his thighs. 

You watched with burning eyes—but you couldn’t be sure if that was from your lack of blinking or a faint desire to cry. Your throat was dry, and in the pit of your stomach, an unbridled lust settled heavily. The cocktail of emotions was too overwhelming for you to fully immerse yourself, and you were all too aware of the ticking clock. You’d paid for a twenty minute slot, because you weren’t sure if there’d be enough time to talk about this fully. 

And yet, here you were, seven minutes in, and you were getting antsy, restless in your seat. It wasn’t until Johnny got off the pole, and kneeled on the other side of the couch, that you started to wonder what was going on here. 

“Johnny,” You murmured hoarsely, “Can I please just—”

“C’mon, baby,” He said, resting on his hands. He began to crawl toward you—a sick mirror of all of the times you’d gotten him to submit, “It’s been a while since we had fun together, you’n me. Don’t you wanna do this again? Don’t you miss it—miss me?”

“I—Of course I do. But I need to just get some things off my chest—”

“Off your chest?” He was in front of you now, and you leaned away. Still, he crawled forward, leaving you resting on your elbows. He smirked, face inches away from yours. You wanted him so badly, core burning, your mind begging you to just lean forward. Suddenly, what you wanted to talk about seemed far away. You’d missed him so much, spent so many nights trying to replicate how he’d made you feel. 

And now here he was, offering you that sensation again. 

He tugged lightly on your collar. 

“I can think of a few things I wanna get off your chest.”

His lips felt bruising, almost violent on yours. He had you pinned down on the couch almost immediately, unbuttoning your shirt. Soon enough, it was thrown to the side, and your bra followed soon. His mouth trailed itself down to your neck, and then your chest, teasing just above one of your nipples. 

“Johnny—”

“Shh, shh,” He hushed against your skin, “Let me just do this, hmm?”

His lips wrapped around your nipple, tugging gently on it with his teeth. You gasped sharply, arching your back up against him. Your hands carded through his hair, bringing your legs around his hips. Your hips slotted against his, and when you lifted your hips, he sighed against your chest. His cock, still covered by the shorts, was already back to the hardness you’d seen on the stage. The friction, combined with his mouth suckling on your chest, made you throw your head back, panting quietly. 

Your hands reached for the robe’s belt, untying it haphazardly and sliding the fabric off to reveal his shoulders and chest. “Johnny, I—”

He pressed his lips to yours again, and you realized with a start: he was trying to keep you from talking. 

“Don’t say anything, baby,” He whispered into your ear, voice sickly sweet, “After all, you just want me to fuck you and then leave without anything else, yeah? That’s all this is, right?” 

Your eyes met his, and you realized just how cruel he was being, trying to give you a taste of your own medicine. Maybe this was how he felt, but despite all the mistakes you’d made, you knew that it had never been like this. This was a bastardization, a mockery of everything the two of you had been through. Despite all of this, the pain in your chest and the clenching of your jaw, you didn’t let up in the movement of your hips. 

“That’s not what this has been and you know it,” You snapped, grabbing his face, “Don’t be a dick about it, Johnny. If you want me to fuck off, just tell me and I will.” 

His eyes seemed to burn into your soul. “What if I don’t want you to fuck off? What if I just want you to fuck me, huh?”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” You said, “I have half a mind to punch you in the face right now.”

“And yet, you’re still grinding on my cock like a whore,” He pointed out, pressing a kiss to your jawline. 

“Dammit, Johnny, I’m trying to—mmh!”

When he pressed his lips against yours again, he slipped his tongue inside of your mouth, and you found it hard to resist the temptation of it all. But your body felt like it was burning, with lust, with shame, with anger, with guilt, with sadness. 

You don’t know where it came from. The onslaught of emotions you’d been trying to push down, every single crack you’d tried to seal up. It all came crashing down in an avalanche that had you squirming, hands pushing weakly at Johnny’s chest to get him off of you. At first, he seemed confused, but then he took in the sudden wetness of your eyes, the heaving of your chest he’d previously thought were due to his ministrations, and as if all of that weren’t bad enough—

“Red,” You wheezed, “Red, red, red, red, red—”

The word you’d both agreed on if things ever got to be too much, the one word that would have gotten either of you to stop dead in your tracks, regardless of how things were emotionally between the both of you. 

All of the color drained from Johnny’s cheeks, realizing just how far he’d taken it, and immediately, he let go of you. He tried to get off the couch, and his chest sank as you reached for him, immediately burying your face in his chest as you wept.

“I’m sorry,” You sobbed, “I’m sorry I was so horrible t’you, I didn’t know what to do—”

Guilt washed over him as he made sense of your rambling. “Y/N, you don’t have to do this now—”

“I do love you, Johnny, I-I do, so much,” You said between sobs, unable to stop the word vomit as you clung to him, “I want you to stay, but I can’t stand the idea of seeing you get h-hurt, I have s-so many nightmares about it at night, Johnny, please, I love you, I love you, so much, s-so much, want you to stay with me forever—”

“Y/N.” He grabbed your face gently with both hands, frowning. The action caused your words to die in your throat, but it didn’t stop the crying. With the pads of his thumbs, he wiped your tears away, before pressing kisses to your cheeks. “It’s okay,” He murmured between kisses, “Deep breaths, baby. I’ll still be here when you’re ready, ‘kay?”

It took you a good minute or so, but when your weeping finally subsided, even the occasional involuntary sobs, Johnny pressed a final kiss to your forehead. He rolled the two of you over, holding you tight to his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” He finally muttered, “I was angry and bitter about how we left things off. I shouldn’t have acted on those emotions—”

“No, I’m sorry, too.” You tightened your arms around him. Your voice was barely above a whisper. “I was scared because I’ve never… I’ve never really let anyone in like this. That, plus the whole thing that had been going on overseas—”

“I thought that happened after what happened that night,” He said, looking at you. You shook your head.

“It’d been going on since about six months ago. Things just got so bad that I had to fly in myself and… well.”

You didn’t finish, and Johnny figured out the rest for himself. “You got rid of them?”

You nodded, tucking your head into his chest. “That threat’s over. But what about the next one, and the one after that?”

“After that, we ride through the storm together,” He murmured, “And my queen’s empire will prevail, every—single—time.”

You looked back up at him, your eyes still teary. He offered a soft, wistful smile. One full of yearning and admiration. 

“Okay,” You whispered finally, nodding. “We ride through it together.” 

This time, when his lips met yours, it wasn’t like anything before. This was gentle, loving. And when you pulled away, your eyes glittered not just with leftover tears, but with another realization. “You’re still hard.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah. I am.”

“What if I—”

“I’m not going to fuck you after what just happened.” He shook his head, “What if that triggers something else?”

“I never said anything about you fucking me, Johnny,” You said, rolling the two of you over so you were now on top of him. “Not exactly.”

He raised an eyebrow, still skeptical. “Y/N…”

“If I weren’t 100% sure I wasn’t going to break down again I wouldn’t be doing this. Just trust me on this, okay?” 

Johnny said nothing, but he still didn’t seem very convinced. So you let him watch you peel your pants and underwear off, before removing those heavensent shorts he’d been made to wear tonight. 

You moved to straddle him again, your core hovering over his length. Leaning over to cage him between you and the couch, you raised an eyebrow. “How much time do we have left?”

“I’d say about six or seven minutes,” He said, “Whatever you’re gonna do, be quick about it.”

“I know.”

You lowered your hips onto his, the ridges of his cock meeting your clit. The both of you hissed at the same time. Johnny’s eyes screwed shut, your mouth tipped open as you began moving, working your pussy against his dick. 

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” He groaned, reaching for your hips.

“Yeah?” You sighed, your stomach twisting in delight at his words. He nodded, before sitting up to meet you face to face.

There wasn’t as much talking as you were used to, not tonight. No, this was the both of you desperately trying to make up for lost time and consolidate what was to come, now that you were both finally on the same page. This was you wrapping your arms around his shoulders, clinging to and scratching along the muscular ridges of his back. It was him sucking bruises into your collarbones and neck, trying to aid the movements of your hips with his hands.

You could feel every ridge and vein of him pressed up against you, so good you could practically see stars. It made you cling to him, pressing your cheek to his shoulder, eyes screwed shut. His face buried itself into your hair. You could feel his heavy breathing hitting your scalp.

“Johnny,” You whimpered, “I’m—”

“Me too,” He grunted against you, “You feel so—fuck, you feel so good.”

“Kiss me,” You demanded, “Kiss me, please, I love you.”

He did so without hesitation or teasing. This one, too, was different, now imbued with passion and desperation. His tongue clashed with yours, you breathing as heavily as him.

When you broke apart, one hand came up to grip your face. “My queen,” He murmured, “My goddess.”

That did it for you. Your head fell back, blunt nails digging into his back, and suddenly the only word you knew was Johnny’s name. His lips met yours one final time to swallow your moans—you didn’t want to give away what was going on to the security guards, even though they probably already knew. You didn’t feel when Johnny came. Yes, you heard him inhale sharply, breaking away to bite your shoulder so hard you winced at the combination of pleasure-pain. But only when you came down from your ecstasy did you feel the sudden stickiness between your thighs.

When you reached for the nape of his neck you realized he was trembling. He met your eyes, before pressing his nose to yours. One of your hands cradled his face, much like he was doing to yours. 

“Thank you,” He whispered, “I’m all yours. You own me, heart and soul.” 

“And you own me,” You answered. “It’s not going to be easy for me, I’m letting you know now. But I’m so grateful you’re still here to let me try.”

He smiled, pressing his cheek into your palm. “I—”

A sudden pounding on the door interrupted his words. “Johnny!” Taeyong called, “It’s almost time for your next client!”

“Shit, I’m still dirty,” You muttered, cheeks heating up. Nervously, you looked around only to find nothing to clean the insides of your thighs with. “Fuck, what am I—”

“I have an idea,” Johnny said, eyes alight with mischief, before pinning you down. 

“Johnny,” You hissed, “What the hell are you d—”

“Shh,” He insisted, spreading your legs with his hands, “Or do you want Taeyong to find out what’s really going on in here?”

Before you could stop him, his tongue was already licking up the folds of your pussy, cleaning his cum off of you. Immediately, your hand went to cover your mouth, squeezing your eyes tight as you held back a moan. You were still so sensitive from what had just happened seconds ago, and the obscenity of it all, of Johnny cleaning his own cum from your cunt while his boss was demanding to know what’s going on in there had your eyes rolling up in your head.

You looked down at him, him watching you like a predator watching its prey. Your free hand tangled itself in his hair, and despite the desire to push him away, the second his tongue entered your pussy, fucking it shallowly, your hips began rutting against his face. He groaned quietly, the sight of you losing yourself and using him for more pleasure driving him wild.

The speed at which your second orgasm came hurtling towards you was almost embarrassing, but could you really be blamed when Johnny had finished licking the cum from your folds but was sucking on your clit like it was a jawbreaker. Your vision just about turned white, and you supposed a few moans had to have passed through, because in the background, you heard Taeyong’s incessant knocking stop. 

When you finally came down, Johnny was already pulling on his shorts. “I still have my key to your place,” He murmured, “You free tomorrow?”

“I can have it cleared,” You mumbled sluggishly, barely responding when he handed you your clothes.

“Great,” He said with a grin, and you looked at him quizzically as you began pulling on your underwear. You had a feeling where this was going, because… well. It was Johnny.

“This? This was only my first course. I fully intend on getting my second and third courses in as soon as I get the chance.”

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