#the three deep thinkers

[iviarellereads]

The Neverending Story, Chapter 21 - The Star Cloister

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Neverending Story, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

In which I'm gonna have to just start slipping past the racist appropriation so I don't go off on tangents about it every few pages.

Uninterruptedly(1) new emissaries from all parts of Fantastica poured in to swell the army of those accompanying Bastian on his march to the Ivory Tower.

It soon becomes impossible to count them all. Bastian has a magnificent tent which is always set up in the middle of the camp. Atreyu and Falkor are still in the group, but haven't said a word to Bastian since the reprimand. Bastian secretly wants Atreyu to apologize, but he doesn't. Falkor seems to have forgotten how to fly, so he and Atreyu just walk together most of the time.

Bastian gets bored riding Yikka, and seeks out Xayide, who always shows him proper respect(2) and has something interesting to say as she smokes her "water pipe".(3) Bastian asks her about the giant armour, and Xayide says her will made them move, and indeed can control any empty vessel.(4)

Xayide asks if Bastian is really happy riding an old mule, and dithers over not wanting to tell him what she means even when he asks, until she suggests he think of his public image.

Bastian doesn't comment on this further, but the next day, he gives Yikka a story about her dearest wish: to be able to tell children and grandchildren about her time carrying Bastian, despite being a sterile mule. He gives her a story of a handsome winged horse, too shy to approach the huge caravan, that Yikka must leave to meet. Yikka is torn, because she loves being Bastian's mount and she's scared of change. Bastian encourages her, and she leaves.

For a long while Bastian looked after her as she hobbled off. He wasn't really happy about sending her away. [...] He kept telling himself that he had made Yikka's dearest wish come true. But that didn't make him feel any better. A person's reason for doing someone a good turn matters as much as the good turn itself.(5) But that made no difference to Yikka, for she really did find the white, winged stallion. They married and she had a son who was a white, winged mule. His name was Pataplan and he made quite a name for himself in Fantastica, but that's another story and shall be told another time.

Bastian starts riding in Xayide's litter with her, at the head of the procession. But he's not happy that Xayide convinced him to part with his friend, and she soon realizes the reason for his gloom. She offers him a gift: a belt that can make its wearer invisible. Bastian gives it the name Ghemmal to claim it.

When he tries it out, he's very unsettled by not being able to see his body(6) and he cannot find the belt or the clasp to release it. Xayide reaches into the air and finds the clasp almost immediately, releasing him. She uses this moment to broach a difficult topic: Bastian still sets store by friendship, but truly, he should harden his heart and cut loose the insolent Atreyu before he and Falkor cause Bastian harm. Bastian is at first unwilling to believe that Atreyu could mean him harm, but once the seed of thought is planted, he can't stop it growing.

That night, Bastian asks to be alone in his tent for a while, and he thinks hard not about Xayide's warning about Atreyu, but her words about wisdom. He has rushed from wish to wish, never stopping to feel content. He thinks wisdom is being above all emotion, and if he can achieve this, he will be immune from all harm. That is his final wish.(7)

A while later he leaves his tent, and six owls approach, messengers from Ghigam, the Star Cloister, where the Monks of Knowledge live. They were sent by Ushtu, the Mother of Intuition, one of the Deep Thinkers.(8) Their mission is to find the Great Thinker, who is, of course, Bastian,(9) to solve a problem they cannot. Bastian summons Xayide and Atreyu, and the owls fly the three to the Star Cloister.

The Monks of Knowledge are made up of all sorts of Fantasticans, but to enroll is to give up all your worldly connections, and devote your whole existence to knowledge, rather than material gains. Sometimes their numbers dwindle, but they never relax the entry requirements. The Superiors are like humans with animal heads. Ushtu (Intuition) has an owl head, Shirkry (Vision) an eagle head, and Yisipu (Reason) a fox head.(10)

Very formally, Skirkry speaks, asking Bastian if he will help them. Bastian agrees. Shirkry asks what Fantastica is. Bastian answers that it is The Neverending Story. The Superiors withdraw, promising to meet again the next day at this hour.(11) The three are led to guest rooms, and Xayide finds that her magic is out of reach in the cloister, so she's unable to summon a nicer bed.

The next day, they meet again, and Ushtu asks where The Neverending Story might be found, and Bastian says, in a book bound in copper coloured silk. They retreat again until the next night, return, and finally Yisipu asks where the book is. Bastian says, in the attic of a schoolhouse. Yisipu asks if Bastian can prove it, and Bastian says he can, and they should meet at the top of the Star Cloister the next night and watch the sky.

The next night, Bastian gathers them on the roof, and says the glowing gem's name backward, so that it shines with the light of a hundred years in a moment. Somehow, this rends the heavens into a vision of the attic, as Bastian left it. Once they recover from the flash blindness, the Superiors all say they saw their own animal in the attic, and ask Bastian to settle the matter. Bastian says they're all correct, and he's leaving now.

That night the usual harmony of the Three Deep Thinkers was disturbed by a first radical difference of opinion, which years later led to the breakup of the community. Then Ushtu the Mother of Intuition, Shirkry the Father of Vision, and Yisipu the Son of Reason each founded a cloister of his(12) own. But that is another story and shall be told another time. That night Bastian lost all memory of having gone to school. The attic and the stolen book bound in copper-colored silk vanished from his mind. And he even stopped asking himself how he had come to Fantastica.

=====

(1) The owls fly above a starry night sky over the desert. (2) The back to back contrast of Atreyu refusing to bow, and Xayide laying it on too thick is almost too unsubtle even for me, the person who rather enjoys being told things instead of hinted them. (3) I can't be sure what it's actually referring to, presumably some sort of hookah, but it amuses me to think of it as a bong instead today. (4) Huh, that's a funny coincidence as Bastian's brain becomes empty of memory. (5) I love this line in particular. Is it just outside narration, pointing to Bastian's failing that he doesn't recognize? Is it close narration, something Bastian acknowledges within himself? The ambiguity of the identity of the narrator also contributes to this question. It's been suggested that it's the old man in the mountain, but how much can we trust the narration to reveal itself? I have my gripes with this book as we explore it together like this, but I can't deny that when the writing is good, it's GOOD, and the translation is a work of art in its own right. (6) The eternally under-discussed side effect of invisibility! (7) And of course, we see that it costs him the last of his memory of home at the end of the chapter. (8) Even knowing German capitalizes all nouns, this is Too Many Capitals. (9) His wishes really do pay off in the least subtle of ways. I know it has to be that way, it's a children's book, and I'm an adult who has a fair bit more media literacy skill (because it is a skill you have to learn and flex) than a child. Children's books can be subtle and deep, and I grant this is reasonably deep, but subtle describes none of this. (10) We're taking it as given about powerful semi-humans with animal heads at this point, after all the sighing I've done about appropriation, right? (The most commonly acknowledged point of reference for this among white folks is Egyptian tradition, though I'm sure it exists elsewhere as well. But, Egypt is a thorny issue for white people to wade into, mythologically speaking.) (11) That all feels rather anticlimactic. (12) If I never encounter the default male again (from this, including Ushtu but saying "his", to people calling a mixed group "guys", to all the other insidious ways it persists) it will be too soon.

[nanamiskentos]

pick your love story °🍵⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ jujutsu kaisen edition (sfw)

gojo satoru ☆ childhood friends to lovers

loves to tease you, and he'll always poke your cheek, ruffle your hair, or steal your food just to get a reaction. if you're shy or quiet, he lives to make you flustered. buys the most ridiculous gifts, including matching sunglasses and designer items that cost more than your rent. acts like your personal heater, always draping himself over you, wrapping his long arms around your shoulders, or sneaking his hands under your sweater to press them against your skin. if someone flirts with you? well, he's throwing him arm around you so dramatically, calling you his 'beloved' in the most obnoxious way possible. if the person doesn't back off, his carefree tone disappears and he gives them a chilling smile. loves late night drives and cafe dates, he's so the type to blast music in the car and sing off-key on purpose, always laughs when you tell him to zip it. his love language is definitely physical touch and words of affirmation, and he needs to be touching you at all times, and he constantly reminds you how much he loves you in different playful and heartfelt ways <3 he's even softer when he's sleepy, nuzzling into your neck and shit, voice always dropping to a quiet murmur as he spills whatever's on his mind.

geto suguru ☆ best friends to lovers

pretty chill, protective and a faux deep thinker type of guy. gentle and attentive, always knowing what you need before you even ask. if had a rough day, he's gonna run you a bath and try to get your favourite drink. tries to sit still and listen patiently while you rant. lowkey a bit overzealous when it comes to jealousy, but never petty. he doesn't get outwardly possessive. but if someone flirts with you, he'll wrap an arm around your waist and give the person a pretty sharp look, enough that they'll back off and shit. always takes pictures of you, and he has an entire album of random shots of you reading, laughing or even just existing bc he really does think you look beautiful in every moment. loves bookstore and vinyl shop dates, and he enjoys those sweet peaceful moments with you (flipping through books, aka arguing about different genres). he's super big on quality time + acts of service, and if he sees you struggling with anything, he'll try to take care of it before you even have to ask. loves running his fingers through your hair, and he claims it calms him, and sometimes he just gets so lost in thought while doing it, that you have to snap him out of it. he's the type to whisper sweet things in your ear absentmindedly, like 'you have no idea how much i love you' when he thinks you're not paying attention. goes all red and dismissive when he realises you actually did hear that :D and he says he's not in gossip and drama but no one talks shit like he does, lets be real

ryomen sukuna ☆ prob sum weird enemies to lover shit

claims he doesn't date, but somehow ends up trying to figure out your favourite flower. calls you stupid shit like 'brat' or 'pet' more than your actual name, but if someone disrespects you, he tears them apart without hesitation. gets jealous easily, but he won't admit it, and if someone looks at you wrong, he'll grab your chin and kiss you (not that you mind <3) his love language is physical touch and dominance, expect him to always keep a hand on your waist, neck or chin because as much as he pretends otherwise, he loves feeling your skin against his. gaslights you over silly things for fun ('i literally told you that' 'no you didn't' 'oh, so you're forgetful now). also whispers absolute nonsense in your ear just from time to time, 'did you know that octopuses have three hearts? bet you didn't, but now you do. you're welcome'). will open a jar way too aggressively to try and show off his strength but breaks it, and now you're left with no pickles and a sulking sukuna with pickle juice on his hand. carries you like a sack of potatoes on his shoulders if you piss him off. pretends he doesn't gaf, but always shares his food with you and tries to order what you like.

toji fushiguro ☆ reluctant friends to lovers

grumpy but soft for you typa boyfriend who doesn't believe in using full words in texts. only texts in 'ya' or 'nah' and he accidentally replied 'k' to you saying 'i love you' and he called you immediately afterwards because he knows he messed up. loves pda but in the most lazy way possible, and will always drape himself over you like a weighted blanket and refuse to move. always steals bites of your food (half the meal) but will act offended if you do the same. once won you a stuffed animal at a carnival and acted like it was no big deal, but he actually used up all his carnival tickets trying to win you the biggest prize. spoils you in a reckless way, and he'll hand you a wad of cash and refuses to tell you how he got the money. he just tells you to go buy something nice. love language is acts of service and physical touch because he claims he's not amazing with words, but his hands always find their way back home to you. loves lazy mornings, and grumbles when you try to get out of bed, pulling you back in with an arm around your waist.

nanami kento ☆ love at first sight

exhausted but devoted you get me, and he claims that you energise him and light up his life. lectures you when you only sleep for three hours a night. replies to the tiktoks you send with corporate replies 'that was humorous. thank you for sharing. i love you.' he thinks you're absolutely the most beautiful person on the planet, and always lets you know. pretty gentle, mature and devoted. shows his love in sweet, meaningful ways. always puts your comfort first, and he tries to take things off your plate without asking. loves cooking for you, and believes cooking is its own love language. hates unnecessary, brash pda but loves quiet intimacy. holds your hand, brushes your hair against your ear. lingering kisses on your temple. reads to you at night, and he'll sit beside you if you have trouble drifting off. his love language is absolutely acts of service and quality time, and he doesn't just say he loves you, he'll prove it in every little action of his. loves taking you out to scenic parks and hikes, and just stares after you with so much love as he tries to adjust the focus of his camera lenses to try and capture you as well as he can.

choso kamo ☆ strangers to lovers

kinda awkward but genuinely, really quiet sweet. overthinks everything, and at the start of your relationship, he even started overthinking how you said 'goodnight!' and wondered if you were mad at him, because there was no heart or emoji. would die before making the first move idk, like you're going to have kiss him first or else, otherwise i fear he's going to have a stroke. holds grudges as long as he can, and will bring up little shit (like you stealing his lunch) six months later 'remember that time you betrayed me?'. but he can only really give you the silent treatment for two whole minutes when you tease him, and then immediately apologises because he feels bad. a lot of friends tease the two of you because they think choso is too quiet or a pushover but the truth is that he's actually pretty snarky, clever and observant. very determined and always sticks to his morals, even at times when you disagree with him, he's able to put his foot down. love language is quality time and gift giving, because he's the type to remember everything you like and surprise him with it. loves watching movies with you, and pretends not to care for 90s chick flicks, but he's digging them deep down. loves holding your hand, and even in public, he'll reach for you quietly.

higuruma hiromi☆ coworkers to lovers

overworked but loves you so bad. he sometimes reminds you of a tired, single dad but he's truly joyous to date. if you call him baby in public, he immediately malfunctions and blushes. you once kissed him in a courtroom (not even when court was ongoing!) on the tip of his gorgeous nose, and he almost choked. will 100% object to random things just to irritate you, with topics like takeout for dinner, 'objection. we had sushi two days ago.' takes everything pretty seriously, until you do something cute. then he just sits there, hiding his smile behind his hand like an adorable anime protagonist. tries to be strict or protective, but you just make him super soft. secretly likes pda but pretends that he doesn't. grips your hand so tight like he fears you might disappear. loves when you rest in his lap or against his chest as he reads over cases and paperwork. you told him that he'd look hot with glasses, and you caught him browsing through lens frames.

naoya zenin ☆ arranged marriage (kinda ooc naoya btw, bear with me)

sort of a menace who should have been left on read a long time ago, but this wasn't your first choice. somehow, he folds for you almost immediately but you think he'd rather dig his own grave and neatly fold his hands over his chest as he buries himself at his own funeral before he admits that he likes you. calls you annoying but will drop everything if you text him that you need help. always saying dumb shit to you, or trying to make fun of you, but if someone else does? they're gone, like he's going to stalk them, find where they work, and get them fired from their job. texts you the stupidest things like 'if i was ugly, would you still love me?' 'i just saw an ugly baby. damn' 'what would do if i got arrested? be honest.' saw someone flirting with you once at like a fancy event, and rolled his eyes, pretending that he didn't give a flying fuck. ended up at the bathroom mirror, gripping the sink and trying not to throw up. if you ignore his texts, he's gonna send vaguely ominous messages, like 'answer me' followed by 'this is how it ends?' 'i'm leaving btw, i'm going to pack up and leave you forever and go live on my own in the wild.' you check his location and he's still at home. naoya thinks he's the prize in the relationship, he's not. definitely a pda menace, and he loves just kissing you in public.

hajime kashimo ☆ enemies to lovers but in that 'we met when we were fighting' way

your relationship is just him being reckless with no survival instinct, and you trying to keep your boyfriend alive. aka trying to stop him from licking the power outlet. will randomly challenge you to fights for no reason, never mind the fact that he'll feel bad and back out at the last minute. has no concept of personal space, and will stand nose to nose with you just to make you uncomfortable. if you back away, he's gonna follow you and ask where you're going. if someone flirts with you, he's not even going to do too much, just laugh in their face and ask the offender if they really thought they had a chance. kashimo has no concept of an inside voice at all, so god forbid you try to take him somewhere quiet. energy level always at 200% and it's a mission to even take him someplace like a grocery store. if you said 'i love you' first, it might have been the only time that someone else has bested him in something. hajime physically can't process emotions and goes green and pale (he loves you so much btw) and he looks vaguely ill at your confession. stares for five minutes before throwing himself at you. definitely a words of affirmation type of guy, instead of actions, because sometimes, he's all bark and no bite.

noritoshi kamo ☆ sweet, rom-com crush

he's actually a bit traditional, but very sweet. unfortunately, he's also so formal that it hurts sometimes. but it's fun when he asks you things like 'would you like to accompany me for an evening meal?' or 'shall we go for a stroll?' if you hold his hand, for the first few months, he sweats profusely but acts as though he's totally cool (narrator: he was not cool). lowkey believes that he doesn't deserve you and he absolutely treats you, the love of his life, like royalty. super observant and determined to make you as comfortable as possible, so you're never really left wanting for anything. if someone flirts with you, he doesn't really get jealous, but rather gets philosophical. 'it is natural for others to admire beauty such as yours. however, they must know it's not theirs to claim.' a key forefront runner of the sassy men apocalypse, even though you wouldn't be able to tell at the start. super quick-witted, but he's the type to keep his thoughts to himself, but luckily, he gets more comfortable sharing his jokes with you as times go on. blushes super easily, and he hates it because he thinks it ruins his aloof/mysterious guy persona.

[nichuuu]

From Eden

Jeon Heejin x M reader

(1st instalment of De Selby)

PSA: This shit has not seen the editing board because I'm lazy. Fell off real hard. Sorry gang.

Word count: 10k

You liked to think that your first meeting with her after all those years was a fluke. 

As it went for most people who went their separate ways at a point in their lives: there was history between you and Jeon Heejin. It was a little more choppy than you’d like to admit, but it formed the crux of your relationship and you couldn’t just ignore it. She seemed to find no qualms in forgetting what happened between the two of you. And as you caught up with her at a booth seat in some club you guys bumped into each other at, you wondered if you’d overreacted when the two of you had your falling out.

She was possibly kinda bad company for the night – not exactly a face you wanted to see three beers in and ditched by the rest of your friends cause they all got too drunk and found themselves booted from this hellhole. But at the end of the day, they all say that it’s better to be in poor company than to be alone. 

***

To whatever gods that were out there, you thanked all of them collectively for the fact that the toilet that she’d dragged you into was empty. You hoped that the cubicle door was enough to keep whatever was happening in the bathroom privy to its occupants. The music that pulsed on outside the bathroom should be enough to cover you right? 

Heejin—as usual—had no qualms about skipping past the usual formalities of intimacy. Those deft hands were on your belt faster than you could utter her name, and your cock was in her hand before you even knew it. She was gentle with you, stroking you considerately as she laid a hand on your chest. Those fingers made you tingle from the tip down, pushing you to new levels of pleasure you’d no idea you could experience. They gripped you lightly yet firmly, applying pressure at all the right spots to make your toes curl in your shoes and your muscles tense throughout your body. You could only wonder: did she know what she was doing to you? Or was she just getting really lucky. However sordid this situation was, it felt right to you… and maybe to her as well.

“Jesus Heejin”--your hissing through your teeth. It sounds a little more aggressive than you’d like, but you know she’d have no qualms about it anyway–“you sure know your way around a dick.”

The smirk on her face was snitching on the fact that she definitely knew what she was doing. She leaned in, flushing herself against your chest while she continued to deliver languid strokes to the rock hard meat in her hand. “Thanks… He loves a nice handjob from time to time, though I always imagine myself giving it to you instead of him to get into it..”

You summoned the strength to look into her eyes – really gaze deep into those lustful, beautiful orbs she’d been blessed with. Past the want and need, there was an undeniable look of sincerity she held, a wordless soulful confession to you that she had always fantasised you in place of her ‘lover’. It drove you to push a little further, “and what are you thinking about now that I’m actually the one you’re giving it to?”

Heejin thought about it for a moment, almost as if she had a million and one answers that could express her carnal desires. Honestly, you wouldn’t put it past her to actually harbour a million and one answers. She was always a wild thinker in many aspects. She was also diligent, and that translated into the way her hand hadn’t stopped moving throughout the eternity (it was shorter than that, but it sure felt like it) she took to produce a congenial answer. 

“Now that you’re actually here,” she finally answered, making sure to hit you with a smile that blurred the distinct line between sweet and sultry, “I’m thinking about how good you’re gonna fill me with this pretty, thick cock.”

“Pretty?” you couldn’t help but chuckle. You’d heard and read of many ways that people described dicks, but never in your life would you ever expect the word ‘pretty’ to be amongst that mix. Heejin giggled – one of mischief and ‘know-it-all’ energy. It’s pretty – her grip around you tightened, squeezing you with pleasurable force as her movements quickened almost in sync with your breathing – because I like the way it feels in my hand… and I know that this cock is gonna be better than anything that he’ll ever give me. 

She stopped, putting a jarring halt to the pleasure that surged through your system. Her hand on your chest snaked up to your cheek – a sweet action that almost took the pure filth out of the words that followed. “I want you to fuck me–no, own me.”

It felt almost like a command in the way that you immediately wanted to fulfill her request. Her thumb traces circles on your face; her speech only gets filthier, “fuck me like I’m yours. Make me cum so hard that I forget all about him.”

You found yourself back in control of the part of your brain that controls the facilities of your speech and movement. You gingery held the wrist that was delivering those soft strokes of heaven just moments ago and pulled her hand off your throbbing shaft. As much as you’d love to have her jerk you off, there were more pressing matters at hand – namely the situation of her clothing and the fact that it was still on her. You wrapped an arm around her, pulled her close.

“Heejin darling,” you whispered, relishing the way she shivered as your warm breath made contact with her ear. “I can’t do much if you still have all of these damned clothes on.”

She quickly recognised the game that you were playing and was eager to match you step-for-step. She held your gaze as she hooked a finger into the top of the tube top that adorned that wonderful figure and—rather enthusiastically—pulled it down. The nipple covers were quickly discarded and her small, perky breasts caught your gaze. Judging from her smile, she loved that you were staring. 

“You’re nice”, she told you, moving some hair out her face like you were looking there of all places. “He’s always commanding me: take off your clothes, do this, do that… I could get very used to you.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little. Her constant comparison of you and the man she was supposed to be loving was making you feel a little better about yourself (even though you knew that was far from the intended effect). You’d like to return the favour; you began running kisses down her body – starting from her lips before making your way down to her collarbone. Her shuddering sighs told you that you were doing something right, and you endeavored to keep up your performance for the rest of… Well… Whatever this session was.

“God… you’re fucking perfect, you know?” you informed her, wondering if she ever knew how much you adored that body of hers. Yes, you were more wholesome at a younger age – looking at her soft features and dorky personality to decide that you liked her. However, innocence never stopped you from stealing a glance or two at her ass when she wore tight jeans or a quick look at her slim figure whenever she wore anything that hugged her body like a glove. You’d never know if she ever caught you looking, but now you’re glad she knows that you are giving her your fullest attention (it was hard not to really).

You weren’t sure if her cheeks were flushing because of your comment or if she was just getting turned on. Either way, she still had remarks to deliver, “perfect is a little strong, but I’ll take the comment because I’m just so humble.”

Mischief was and would always be her idiosyncrasy.

A creak made both of you freeze. Female voices filled the bathroom, accompanied by the sound of heels clacking against the floor as your little getaway location was patronised by unwelcome guests. 

“Ugh… This damned contact lens is not coming out,” an identified voice carped. It sounded like the woman who said it was just in front of the stall that you were in. Judging from the slight look of annoyance that crossed Heejin’s face, you deduced that those were fellow bridesmaids who were in there together with you. With the same expression lingering on her soft features, she reached down and unclasped her jeans. She unzipped them slightly before pulling them down – past the delightful curve of her waist and till they were halfway down her supple thighs.

“Do you need help?” another voice rings out. Heels striked against the floor as another female occupant moved to join the scene; Heejin moved to grab you by the cock and pull you closer (as if the two of you weren’t already skin to skin in that stall).

“Fuck me now,” she hissed, an almost angry look filling her eyes. It was like she was being fuelled by the annoyance that stemmed from the presence of her fellow bridesmaids – using it as an excuse to quickly get filled with cock and have it pumping in and out of her within the next few seconds or so. She was lucky that you were taught to never keep a girl waiting.

Your movements are quick and firm; grabbing her by the waist and turning her around. Her gasp was telling of her surprise towards your sudden movements, but the grin that followed when she turned halfway around to you to watch as you pulled down her underwear told you that she liked how things were moving. Never in your life would you have imagined this: you and Jeon Heejin – each of you half naked in your own respects in a bathroom stall while people chatted freely beyond the wall of the stall. If the teenage version of yourself ever found out about this, you didn’t know how he’d respond.

Your right hand snaked down towards her crotch, and you are pleasantly surprised to find the slick wetness that could very well be running down the inside of her thigh. You could always check, but you liked to imagine. You took your shaft in your right hand. She bent slightly at the waist, her hands pressed against the white wall of the stall. The rest of her tight frame joined her hands soon after you parted the wet lips of her cunt and hilted yourself inside of her. 

Her insides felt like a warm embrace – better than you could’ve ever imagined it to be. It felt like a perfect fit; the throbbing meat within her walls filled her perfectly and felt every small movement the flesh could ever register. To call it heavenly would be downplaying the sheer pleasure she was bringing just by letting you be inside of her. Jeon Heejin felt like something unreal, unfathomable. You doubted that your hastily crafted description of her sweet wet cunt could allow one to process this taste of heaven.

Heejin let out a sharp gasp – loud enough for only the two of you to hear and loud enough for you to know that she too was unprepared for this new experience. From the way the muscles on her back tensed as her walls tightened around you, it felt as if her body was welcoming you. It was almost like she was subconsciously pulling you closer, deeper. You could get very used to this.

You revel in it a little, take in the feelings, the new sensation; the sound of the intentional soft breaths that the two of you were taking. This was certainly a novelty for you, and if you were being very honest with yourself: the events that led up to this moment felt a little too much like a fever dream. You half expected yourself to wake up in the next few seconds, or maybe—

“What are you waiting for?”–of course. It had to be her to really cement the fact that this whole thing was actually real. Sure, it’s inconceivable; but no imaginative power of yours could ever replicate the sarcasm (splashed with hunger) behind her voice, nor could you visualise the smouldering look in her eyes as she bit her lip–“your dick is in me. Do something with it.”

It felt like a challenge. She knew damn well that you always took up her challenges.

Withdrawing yourself from the warmth of her slick, you took a moment to cast your gaze downward. You appreciate the sight of your shaft glistening in her juices for a moment—and only a moment. There were pressing matters at hand—before thrusting back into her and reacquainting yourself with the warmth of her walls. You’d have loved to get into this slowly; unfortunately, Heejin chose the worst possible place to get it on. You’d have to live with her choices (and this isn’t exactly new for you).

And as a third voice joins the fray outside your stall—I think I have some eye drops here. Maybe that could help?—you began pumping yourself in and out of her, slow and controlled with full strokes that filled her to the brim. The voices continued to fill the bathroom as the three anonymous patrons struggled with one of their lenses; you struggled to keep yourself together inside of Heejin’s hot wet cunt. 

“F-Fuck yes,” she hissed. Don’t worry, it was soft. Or you could just be too absorbed by the delightful sound of wet squelching as your shaft appears and disappears between her legs to notice that she may be a tad loud. Even if it was, the trouble outside was enough to keep the other three  “I can’t believe I’m finally getting this dick. God… You’re so… Oh my god.”

It humoured you to see her in this state, though laughing at her would be the pot calling the kettle black; you yourself were trying to hold on to something tangible—that wasn’t her waist cause hot damn was your grip on it doing a number on you. Counterintuitive, but hot nonetheless—to keep you grounded in your senses. Slip up and you’d be dealing with the risk of being found in a girl’s bathroom. 

“Jesus Heejin”–you were trying your best to throw in some dirty talk. It would help to spice things up if it weren’t for the fact that your own words were failing you. Your mind was almost completely consumed by the warm squeeze of her pussy, the small twitches of her walls as you drilled yourself into her tight frame like you were slowly nailing a painting onto the wall of the cramped stall. Actually, you were nailing a painting to the wall of the stall: the way her body moved and responded to your thrusts could easily be considered fine art in your books; her body could be considered a canvas given its pale complexion and its smooth surface. Heejin was an art piece herself – a complicated mix of emotions that could take the place of colour and a mind so complex that no composition could ever capture its essence. Good god… You were hooked on this girl–”you have no idea how fucking good you feel around my cock.”

To be clear: from the moment you started fucking her, she hadn’t turned back to face the wall. This whole time she’d been facing you – eyes smoking under the fire of passion and her mouth slightly parted as if her soft moans and sighs were keeping them permanently open. Simply put – she was hot. If you were to discard the complications behind the sex, one could easily classify this as plain, passionate and simple fucking (in a highly risky scenario that could jeopardize both of your reputations, mainly Heejin’s) between two people who have longed for each other. But the plainness of that sounded unappealing to you; the enthralling fact about this was the complexity of the situation – the thrill behind the immorality of it and the sheer risk behind satisfying your own desires. As she gasped when your hands found purchase in her soft breasts, you wondered if she had the same thoughts running through your head as you (though from the looks of it, she was purely enjoying the sex and probably leaving her thoughts behind. Words fail in times like these – you’d be one to know).

Her voice is unsteady as she hissed through her teeth—harder. Fucking give it to me like I’m yours—to perversely request for more than what you were giving her. To see her this uncouth enthralled you to no end. With one hand on her left tit, you moved to secure her hair in a bunch in your other hand. Her hair was a little far from silky—no doubt from all the dye that it’d seen—but it provided friction for you to grip onto her strands with ease as you decreased the intervals between your thrusts. The sound of wet squelching began to permeate the stall, and it was starting to be accompanied by the soft sounds of skin slapping against skin as you struggled to control your desires to rail the girl before you. Thankfully, the cries of victory from the women outside masked the unsavoury sounds.

“Thank god!” one of them, presumably the one who had their contact lens stuck. You’d affectionately refer to them as ‘Eyes’. “I thought it’d be in there forever. Thanks guys.”

“No worries”, another chimed. It was the second voice you heard when all of them entered. She’d be ‘Two’. “Normally you could take this to Heejin. She’d get you fixed up in a flash.”

“Really?” the third asked. You’ll call her ‘Three’. “Do idols get their contacts stuck a lot?”

“Probably,” Eyes mused, “all that dancing on stage probably isn’t suited for glasses, and who knows what type of contacts their stylists have them on.”

Heejin catched your gaze. Struggling to control her breathing, she managed to confirm Eye’s statement—she’s… kinda right. Oh fuck…—before you pulled back firmly on her hair to shut her mouth. Don’t be mistaken: you loved her personality and all, but now really wasn’t the time for it to shine. For good measure, you sealed her lips with a kiss – sloppy and clumsy and hurried. You squeezed her breast a little harder. 

“Where is she anyway?” Three asked. “I haven’t seen her since she left to go talk to that friend of hers…”

A tongue click of disapproval could be heard. You could imagine that it was followed by a tongue wave of dismissal from the way Two commented, “leave her be. She rarely gets to get out of her schedule. Probably trying to catch up with some old friends or something…”

There was a hum of agreement; Heejin moaned straight into your mouth as you captured her nipple between your fingers and squeezed. If the women outside knew how Heejin was ‘catching up’ with you, you didn’t know how they’d react to the sight of her being fucked raw in a bathroom stall meters away from them. You didn’t know how she was getting away with this, but you weren’t exactly complaining. If it wasn’t for understanding bridesmaids, you wouldn't be able to make a wet mess out of her. Maybe you’d thank them later, but you’d decide on that after you were done with Heejin.

“Was that the guy she was talking about the other day?” Two inquired. You had no idea what she looked like, and it scared you a little that she’d seen your face.

There was a moment of pause before Eyes quipped, “what guy?”

Silence followed Eyes’ question. For a second, you were worried that they’d all picked up on the lewd sounds of you fucking the very girl that they were speaking of. You held your breath, but you didn’t stop pumping your shaft between Heejin’s legs. She was almost like a lifeline – a slick and wet and oh-so-hot one that was keeping grounded in your senses while hooking to the sensation of the slick thrusts inside her pussy. Miracle drug… Or maybe just a drug – either way: Heejin was everything to you right now. Listening in on their conversation was just so that you wouldn’t be found during your few minutes in heaven.

“Nevermind. I think I wasn’t supposed to talk about that,” Two muttered. “Let’s get out of here before someone spikes our drink or something.”

They began discussing more mundane things, and you couldn’t care less about them because all that really mattered was the fact that their voices were fading away. You waited till you heard the sound of the creaky door closing to relinquish Heejin’s lips from your possession. She let out a gasp of air, followed by a desperate cry – loud and pleading now that she had the freedom to speak.

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” she hissed. It was almost a snarl really. “Cum with me. Please.”

She was lucky that you: a) had a really big soft spot for her and; b) knew better than to turn a nice girl down.

With a grunt, the hand on her breast shoots to her throat, gripping it tightly as you frantically fuck Heejin to catch up with her imminent orgasm. She was into it, reciprocating by accompanying your hand on her throat and squeezing even tighter. She lets strained cries tumble from her mouth—Oh yes baby… I’m yours. Oh fuck… Oh my fucking god… You’re gonna make me cum so hard—her wells squeezing tighter and tighter around you. Husky was her voice as she pleaded with you to take your liberties—Fucking cum anywhere you like. I just want to be yours—with her, and she was practically shaking in your grasp as you drove yourself closer and closer to the point of no return inside her wet tight walls. Everything – your heart and soul and whatever – pointed you towards making a huge mess out of the women in your arms, and you endeavoured to achieve that goal one way or another.

The tingling at the base of your cock was steadily growing up your shaft. Your thoughts blurred together, nullifying and cancelling each other out till all you could think of was her. With every pump into her, you told yourself that she was yours to take. With every sigh that left her lips, you thought about how many times she pictured this moment in her head. With each gasp and sigh and moan and cry, you fought the urge to hiss through your teeth—Heejin, I love you so much—and admit your feelings for her and how much you’ve missed her touch; tell her how no one made you feel like she could; let her know that for all these years, you’d longed to reconnect with her and sort things out once and for all. Sweet thoughts; perverse desires. The latter wins – all that comes out of your mouth is, “I’m gonna fucking cum.”

And it happened. A little quicker than you’d have liked but there was no way to control the course that the lust of man would take you down. Your cock pops out of Heejin’s heat, glistening with her slick wetness as you pump yourself to completion with your free hand. The hand on Heejin’s throat was pulled down to her crotch, and she used your fingers to rub the swollen nub of her clit as the first ropes of semen shot out and landed on her lower back. She came as the second rope landed on the swell of her left ass cheek, and her knees buckled as the third and fourth spurts hit the fabric of her tube top and the right side of her lower back respectively. You lost track of the rest of your load as Heejin leaned against you, quaking as her orgasm struck her in waves and your load continued to streak her back. It all was so fast. You wondered how either you managed to process your actions in the moment. 

She panted against you, sweaty and spent as she closed her eyes and caught her breath. Your dick stayed flushed against the small of her back, slick with a mix of fluids from you and her. Your hand at her crotch slowly rubs circles into her clit, easing her off her peak and giving you something else to focus on other than how beautiful she looked. You feared that if you stared too long, you’d say something that you didn’t want her to know. The last thing you wanted was to have that moment of intimacy—facilitated by the afterglow of really good sex—to be ruined by some stupid feelings.

“Hey,” she whispered – all soft and tender as she opened her eyes to stare up at you. “That was fucking incredible.”

You managed a chuckle, restraining the urge to kiss her where she stood. She smiled, reached up to cup your cheek as you stared deep into her eyes. For a moment, the world went silent for you and her.

Then she pulled you down to her, kissed you where she stood. The position was a little awkward, your noses bumping each other at odd spots on your faces as she let the sweet nectar that was her lips grace your mouth in a soft and sweet kiss. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced, different from the kiss you’d given her in the midst of fucking her. It felt so right, so tender.

She released your lips with a soft smack, positively glowing as she gazed into your eyes for a little bit longer. 

“Keep this between us,” she whispered, “I love you. I always have.”

***

You stared blankly at her. It was all you could do really.

“What part of this can’t you understand?” she asked. The anger behind her voice was potent, palpable. “I have a boyfriend. Stay away.”

In your hand, the note that you’d plan to hand her felt a little lighter than it had when you first approached. Wishful thinking had you delusional; there was no chance that she would ever go to that dance with you. 

You thought that maybe the friendship could coax her into it – that maybe the years of what almost felt like kinship would drive her to just hear you out for a little bit; yet you seemed to forget that love is blind and can cloud your judgement.

In a moment, it felt like everything you’d built with her had turned to ashes.

***

“Indulge me Heejin. Bring me through your thought process.”

On the bed of your apartment, Heejin tosses her phone aside. Languidly, she flips onto her side, propping her head up with her hand as her elbow dents the pillow. 

“I know,” she mutters, a little bit shamefully if you might add. “Dating another guy to make you jealous and confess is a classic fanfiction folly and all… But I was desperate.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You know that we could’ve just… talked, right?”

Her lips form a line. She sighs and lets her head flop back onto the pillow with a bit of a thump. To be very clear: you aren’t asking her all these questions to guilt trip her into an apology. You are genuinely curious to understand how she was thinking at the period in your lives. It’s a good point of reflection for the both of you considering you both screwed up in one way or another, and maybe even a good chance to offload some emotional baggage. You’ll admit – finding out that she’d dated the guy she was currently with just to get you to run to her and confess your love in highschool was a bit of a shocking discovery. It was foolish, yes… But you wondered why Heejin of all women would resort to such methods. She could be awfully blunt when she wanted to be, and somehow even more blunt when she was telling you that you looked like shit in skinny jeans. You never knew as one to shy away from a confrontation when necessary, and even though she could be a bit of a big dork, she was emotionally aware enough to understand that communication would easily have settled your feelings for each other.

Heejin rolls in the bed, moving close to you so that she can throw an arm around you as she asks, “you’re not mad right?”

“No. Just curious,” you tell her truthfully. She’s silent for a moment, then she looks you in the eyes and opens up: I always meant to talk to you about it. When I heard from Haesul that you liked me I… I was just ecstatic. You were everything I wanted in a man, and I really just wanted to make you mine. Believe me when I say that I wanted to just run to you after the school bell rang and tell you that I loved you too… and maybe ask you out on a date the next weekend.

Her thumb traces circles on your back. You can tell that she’s being sincere from the way she never shies from your gaze. She continues, “but as I’m running to your class down the hall… This guy comes up to me and just tells me that he’s been crushing on me for years and wants to date me. I want to tell him ‘no’ on the spot. I really did. But I see an opportunity to… I dunno… Spice things up a little.”

And you can guess the rest of the story, but you just want to hear her say it just to be sure. Sure enough, she tells you the exact line that you predicted out of her—one thing led to another and then… well, here we are—and you can’t help but chuckle. The whole thing is pretty damn foolish to be honest, and you recognise the fact that if you’d just acted a little less rashly, maybe you wouldn’t have had to go down the path that you did. It’s a folly of the past but it does bring some shame to your present.

“I’m sorry”—she surprises you with this one. You assumed that you guys are past the stage of reconciliation at this point. I mean… You did fuck in a bathroom before she texted you after the wedding she was attending, so it would be kinda right to just conclude that you guys pre-fired the make-up sex—“I was rash and stupid. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising again?” you ask her, “I thought we were through with the sob ‘sorry’s and what-nots.”

“Just for good measure,” she whispers, a gleam in her eyes as she shifts around in your bed a little. “You can never be too careful when it comes to these types of things. Don’t want to make you an enemy again, do I?”

“That wouldn’t be too bad,” you reason, albeit playful rather than serious. She recognises that and scoffs as you continue, “they say to keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“So what I’m hearing is: you’d stay for the hate sex,” she fires back. You smile.

“Not quite… But somewhat.”

Heejin sighs and slaps your leg. You secretly like pissing her off a little, but she didn’t need to know. 

“Now mister,” she says, hijacking the course of the conversation. “Indulge me and bring me through your thought process, and this isn’t about highschool by the way.”

She presses herself up against you, and you feel her hand slide down your torso and to your crotch.

“Tell me,” she whispers, a bit of smoky sultriness sneaking its way into her voice. “Why are you so fucking hard?”

It’s here that you realise that you’ve kinda walked into a trap. Not that what’s about to proceed is bad or anything, but it’s just that you’re a little disappointed that you hadn’t spotted this a little earlier. There were signs that you ignored when you saw her in your bed – namely the fact that she was wearing a see-through sleeveless dress that had a plunging neckline. If that wasn’t enough, she was blatantly playing with herself when you walked in, staring at her phone with this blanked out expression while her fingers worked between her thighs. If it weren’t for your questions about her relationship decisions, the two of you would probably have been naked and sweating in your bed right now. 

“Can I guy not be excited by a pretty girl?” you’re not trying to play innocent, but you are seeing how far it can get you in this situation just for fun.

“Not this guy.” Heejin’s fingers snake around your cock, gripping it lightly through your pants. “And definitely not when it comes to this girl.”

You chuckle softly and catch her hand at your crotch. You pull it away and lean in to whisper into her ear, “don’t worry Heejin. I’m not ignoring the fact that you’re wearing the easiest thing for me to fuck you in.”

Her eyes brighten. “So you did notice…”

And the kiss that follows is far from tame really. You’re at fault for this one since you initiated it, but that knowledge doesn’t stop you from keeping your hands to yourself as you reach down and locate her pussy. Okay wait, you’re making it sound like it took you some effort to find it when you really only took about a second; it’s really easy considering that the panties she’s wearing were so sheer and thin that you could hardly consider it underwear. It was probably more like a concept of clothing than an actual, tangible thing. And her dress? The hem was a lot shorter than it looked. She probably hiked it up or something.

You’re unsurprised by the slick wetness of her cunt practically dripping out of her at this juncture. She’s probably been holding it in for a while now – suppressing all that lust and hunger to talk about feelings for some 30 minutes before she finally gets the chance to let loose on you. Hats off to her really: she had more control than you’d credit her for.

“Fuck baby,” you whisper, latheing your fingers in her juices by dipping them in between her undoubtedly flushed lips. “So wet for me already.”

“Wetter than I’ll ever be for him,” she sighs, almost breathlessly as she shuts her eyes to enjoy the sensation of your fingers getting familiar with her warm cunt. “You should—mmph… you should be grateful that I’m actually attracted to you.”

“I feel honoured.” you’re being genuine with her, but right now it comes off more as a sarcastic passing comment that leans towards the more tame side of dirty talk. Either way, anything you say would probably end with her putting your dick into one—or maybe all—of her holes and using it to her liking. Not that you’re complaining or anything, but it’s just the way the cookie crumbles. There’s no stopping Heejin’s desire, and there really isn’t a point to trying to stop it. You’d be missing out on, like, a lot. “Though, no pressure, I’d be more honoured if you actually did something about that attraction.”

She smiles, borderline sadistic and a bit more enthusiastic than you’re used to. Her hands are deft as she quickly undoes the knot that keeps your sweatpants around your waist, pulls it off eagerly and makes quick work of your boxers. Your cock springs free, hard and throbbing as she slides out of bed to discard her dress. In record time, she’s between your legs and stroking your shaft with patient strokes of her hand. The cheeky comments that you had beforehand quickly sank back down your chest – replaced by an earthy groan that only Heejin was capable of drawing out of you. 

“You know… I was doing a bit of thinking,” she tells you.

“You do a lot of that.”

Heejin has no comments, only a cheeky little grin as she breathes warm air onto the tip of your cock. It makes you shudder, surging pleasure through your veins down to your bones. She’s oddly good at making you squirm, and you’re not too sure how to feel about that.

“Anyway,” she continues, unfazed by what she’d just done to you. “Before I was so rudely interrupted, I was about to suggest that maybe I could cross out one of my fantasies today.”

You’re no stranger to her wild thoughts that could probably fight that of Sabrina Carpenter. As you’d recently found out: fucking in a bathroom stall was one of many wild fantasies that she’d been wanting to cross out. Now that she had you, she’d been busy crossing more and more of them out. The whole infidelity thing was already a major part of her list considering the fact that she’s doing it with you instead of her ‘official’ partner, and things only get wilder from there. Sex with her can sometimes be like exposure therapy, not that you’ve done it before or anything. 

“And which one are we ruling out today?” you inquire, watching with great interest as she produces her phone from below the mattress and swipes through it eagerly. You never saw her grab the damn thing, but you figured that you were probably too preoccupied with the sight of her undressing to take notice. By the way: the entire time that the two of you had been talking? Yeah, she’s been stroking you through all of that. One can only imagine how you were feeling at the moment.

When you saw her phone, you thought that she was going to open her notes app and start looking through her kinks or something. Nothing prepares you for the sound of a dial tone, and you can only watch as she lays the phone next to your thigh, just out of your reach. 

“No prizes for guessing who I’m calling,” she grins, almost too innocently for your taste. “Try not to make too much noise okay?”

And before anything can be said, she slacks her jaw and draws you into the warm wet depths of her mouth. 

The dial tone only continues as Heejin goes still – adjusting to your size and length and taste and shape and whatever she needs to configure herself to. Frankly: if she’d just started sucking you off with that tight seal around your cock, you would’ve been in perdition in mere seconds after she starts. So you give a small thanks to whoever’s watching over you from up above, and you pray that the person on the other end of the line doesn't pick up. While you utter that silent prayer, Heejin’s tongue introduces itself to your tip, sliding almost gracefully over the head of your cock as her phone rings for the nth time. Another ring; her tongue flattens itself against the base of your dick and melts itself to the surface. You grit your teeth, fearful that the moment you make a sound, the other party would pick up and hear it. She slides up in a fluid motion, almost perfectly seamless if she hadn’t gone too far up too fast. Your cock ends up hitting her in the chin, and she smiles as if it were some cute thing that she was taking care of. 

“Heejin,” you grunt, keeping an eye on the phone screen in fear for both of your lives. “Let’s not—”

The caller chooses that moment to pick up, and this is where the game starts. Your lips shut so fast it feels almost automatic, and Heejin tears her eyes away from yours to focus on the other player of this perverse game. 

“Hi baby,” she greets her ‘lover’, all sweet and cute like she isn’t pumping your saliva-slick shaft in her hand as she calls him a pet name. “I was missing you, so I called.”

“Oh… I’m kinda busy now.” he sounds highly uninterested in her, tone dull and dry as Heejin takes a moment to give your cock a squeeze. “Can you call me back another time?”

For a moment, you’re ecstatic. Maybe you wouldn’t have to be subject to her games this time. 

“Quick chat. Promise,” Heejin fires back. She smiles wickedly, relishing the look on your face as you stare at her in a mix of shock and horror. “Just tell me about your day so far. It’s so hard to wait for you to get home to tell me about your day.”

There’s a moment of silence. Heejin takes advantage of the situation; she puts you back into her mouth and makes quick, sloppy work of your cock. The sound of slurping and gurgling is almost deafening, and there’s no way in hell that this man on the other side of the phone was not hearing all of this as Heejin blew you. You tilt your head back, clenching your teeth to prevent the guttural groan that’s building up deep within your chest from escaping your body. You’re hoping deep breaths of air can fill the space – block the desire to cry out in pleasure at the cusp of being translated into phonetics.

“Fine.” you’re almost grateful to hear that dull voice. “I’ve just been doing some filing and some paperwork… Nothing much really.” 

“Mhm,” Heejin mumbles, your cock still in her mouth. She frees it for a second to deliver a line—that sounds like super important work babe—that’s definitely sarcastic in her head and in concept, but masterfully manipulated to sound sincere and enthusiastic. “Anything else?”

“Uh… No.”

Heejin seems almost too gleeful between your legs. “Great. I’ll give you a quick run-down of my day then.”

She proceeds to give him utter bullshit, lying through her teeth about lazing around in her dorm and eating yoghurt. All the while she’s lazily delivering firm pumps to your cock, the sound of her spit squelching in her own hand a little too loud for your liking. Then she starts twisting, and you feel as if all hell is breaking loose inside of you. Your throat is pricked with the sharp gasps that are fighting to be let out of your mouth, skin tingling with the effervescence of pleasure racing through just about every vein in your body. You’re certain you have a knuckle-white grip on your sheets as uses her thumb to rub against the underside of your slit while her other fingers pull the skin around your head tight to keep the sensitive part of you exposed to her impending assault. 

“Oh, and by the way,” she adds, and you’re wondering what other lies she’s capable of generating right now. “I got a call from my old friend that I met at the club before the wedding… He says he wants to be my personal photographer.”

And now you’re shocked and stunned. What was a passing joke yesterday is now being used against you in a way that you can’t even fathom. Heejin revels in the silence—and all the emotions that could possibly be engendered by that single statement—as she smiles and licks you from base to tip. The layer of saliva around your cock thickens, and she uses that to get more aggressive with her motions. You didn’t know if she has limits to her cruelty, and you really hope that she’s reaching it soon. 

“You know how I feel about that guy…” he begins.

“I know, I know… I’m just telling you to keep you in the know.”—her dismissal of his worries is quick and almost genuine if it weren’t for the fact that she was going against his wishes while she assuages his worries—”wouldn’t want to fight with you again, would I?”

He grunts in agreement. “Stay away from him baby. He’s bad company.”

“Yeah,” she hums, locking eyes with you as she hovers her mouth over your tip. She gives it a swipe of her tongue, smiling as you grimace under the pressure that shoots up from your crotch. “He’s such a bad guy…”

Not that you’re into this or anything, but hearing that drawl—sinful and sultry; raunchy and earthy—made your breath hitch a little. Sure, you’re no stranger to Heejin’s sensual side; but this was a bit of her that you had yet to experience. It felt like she’d dug up a new side to her, something unearthed and unaired, and you’ll be the only one to see it. She could take your breath away in many ways and you’d just found another.

The man on the other end grunts once more. With a gruff “Alright. I’ll text you later”, he hangs up on Heejin, leaving you free to let out the breath that you’d been holding in up till that point. 

“Isn’t he a bundle of sunshine?” Heejin drops the facade almost instantly, using the hand that wasn’t occupied with your cock to retrieve her phone. “Five minutes and twenty-seven seconds… Huh. That’s longer than most of our calls.”

You can only pant and watch as she giggles and tosses her phone aside. She crawls back up the bed and takes your lips into hers, and you’d like to think that it’s a sweet apology for the hell she’d just put you through. Deep down you know it wasn’t, but you’re in the mood for some wishful thinking after what you went through.

“Not sure if I’m being greedy here,” Heejin whispers, “but I’d like you to indulge me just a little more…”

“I’d like to hear this one through first,” you quickly request, because no way in hell were you about to live through those 5 minutes and 27 seconds for a second time. “Can’t let you bite off more than you can chew.”

Heejin laughs, fully aware where this was coming from. 

“Don’t worry. I think you’ll like this one,” she assures you, placing a hand on your chest for good measure. “Hand on my heart, honest-to-god: you’ll love this one as much as the next guy.”

You couldn’t help it. You had to check her – match her step for step.

“Considering that I just saw you lie through your teeth, I think it’s fair to say that I don’t quite trust you,” you tell her as plainly as you can. And it’s not that you actually don’t, but more so the fact that you’re just baiting her into saying something really raunchy that’ll rile the two of you up to no end. Depravity is the root of really good sex after all.

“I promise you,” her lips tilt at an angle as she smiles, “when we're done with this one, I’ll let you cum in my mouth.”

***

You figured that she’d come to you with the news at some point – tell you that he’d found her out and that things are gonna happen and blah blah. What you didn’t expect was for her to show up in the middle of the night to be a bearer of bad news.

“Went back to get a sweater that I’d forgotten,” Heejin’s explaining, a can of beer in her hand and fry in the other. “Open the door and next thing I know, the fucker’s blowing up on me in my face.”

She takes a swig and sighs. “Never liked him anyway… We fought more than we talked. Before you ask, make-up sex was horrible.”

You can only frown and nod in sympathy. You’re complicit in this whole ordeal and so don’t have much of a say in this thing. Guilty as charged, red-handed and whatever. You’re just glad that he didn't come over and beat you up like she said he would. Heejin downs the rest of the beer in the can in a gulp and gently places it on your table.

“Is anything gonna happen to you?” you can’t help but ask out of concern. 

Her smile assures you a little, but her words don’t, “honestly? I don’t know. I’ll find out if my publicist gives me hell tomorrow.”

She rises from her seat. “I’m just glad it’s over,” she says. “Don’t know how much longer I could’ve lived with that dry son of a bitch.”

Her sweater comes off her body. She tosses it at you. In her T-shirt, she struts towards the bedroom, stops in the doorway. With a look over her shoulder, she beckons you to join her—come make my night, would ya?—before slipping into the room.

Always a dance with her.

***

You’re starting to question where Heejin draws the line between her sex life and her regular life. 

(You’ve said this about a thousand times by now, but) Not that you’re carping or whatever, it’s just that sex on the kitchen counter while your instant noodles are clearly being overdone in the pot a few meters away is a bit of a safety hazard. You’re no chef, but bubble frothing out of a closed pot really isn’t a good sign.

“Heejin,” you say, struggling to fit her name between the ragged breaths and frantic thrusts. 

“I know,” she rasps in reply. “Ngh… We can… Turn it off later. I’m so close.”

Pretty solid reasoning in your opinion.

How you got into this situation is a bit more complicated that you’d care to explain, but let’s just say that a late night snack can quickly turn into a literal fuck-fest when Jeon Heejin palmed the shape of your boner as you put a pack of instant noodles into a boiling pot. You didn’t know what came over you really, but after the noodles went in and the pot lid was closed, you had her propped up on the counter and her panties around her ankles. You can figure out how you got to this point. 

Okay: to be fair to Heejin, you did kinda start this whole situation that might just put your lives on the line. You’re the perpetrator, criminal mastermind; yada-yada. But if you were to consider the technicalities, she did aggravate you to fuck her, and by so virtue of that you’re kinda both at fault. Does it make sense? Great, cause a situation where you’re both a little dirty minded makes for really great sex. 

Great… Now you just explained the complicated situation. Eh, who’s exempt from a little contradiction now and then. Anyway… Where were you?

“Oh my fucking god.” she’s moaning a lot louder than usual, loud enough to probably convert her voice into some sort of energy for the homeless or something. Between her thighs lay a wet mess that was the source of all this crying and keening, and your juice slicked cock is the thing that’s driving her wild with ecstasy as she wraps her legs around your waist and pulls you deeper into each thrust with her legs. “Fuck me harder please. I need to cum all over your pretty cock so badly I–”

She barely has it in her to finish her sentence. Her plea is truncated by a sharp cry, and it would be pretty funny if it weren’t for the fact that it's probably one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard. The cry is almost delicate, fragile to the ear and almost like sweet music that plays in the dark. The keyword here is ‘almost’. Your description rings true, but the fact that she’s such a needy little bitch right now kind of ruins it. ‘Ruin’ is a little heavy handed; ‘taint’ would be a better word. 

Yeah… Her want taints the beauty behind her desire… But only a little.

“I’m cumming”—Heejin’s practically whimpering at this rate. God you’d have quite the mess to clean up later—”I’m fucking cumming on your cock daddy I–Oh… Oh god oh fuck.”

“Fucking cum,” you hiss, saliva flying past your teeth and maybe onto her ear. “Be a good little slut and cum for me. Give me a nice and tight pussy to cum inside of.”

It feels weird, dirty even, referring to Heejin as a slut, but her reaction tells you she likes it. She loves being called your slut. You can see her mouth agape, tongue sticking out a little. She can barely keep her eyes open as the pleasure courses through her. Her nails dig into your back, and you think she might be drawing blood, but the pain doesn't matter right now. The only thing that matters is the sight before you.

She cums hard, and you know this because her walls clamp down on you like a vice. If you could, you would have taken a picture. The sight is just that amazing, but you're also preoccupied. The pressure is just right. The rhythmic pulsing of her walls against your throbbing cock is too much for you to take. Your hips stutter to a stop as you release a deep moan, and she gasps as she’s filled with rope after rope of hot cum.

When you finally come down from your high, Heejin is still panting heavily, eyes still squeezed shut, and legs still wrapped around your waist. You can't hold back the little smile that crosses your face as you watch her catch her breath. She looks so peaceful. It's hard to imagine her as a girl with the dirtiest mouth you've ever heard. 

She peeks an eye open to see you staring.

“The pot dummy,” she reminds you, and the horrors of reality come crashing back all at once.

***

So you do find a little bit of a charm behind really soggy Buldak in the wee hours of the night. It’s not the best thing you’ve tasted, but it had its appeal. The sauce helped to mask the depression in the sad, close-to-slimy strands of dough in your bowls, though it didn’t stop you from experiencing a new texture that was severely overcooked noodles.

“Still think we could’ve left it in a little longer,” Heejin muses, staring at the limp noodle trapped between her chopsticks. “Maybe from there we could reverse-engineer the noodle and re-cook it.”

“Yea. And maybe we don’t fuck when there’s clearly a four minute limit to this stuff,” you add befor slurping up the last few spicy, sad and soggy strands in your bowl. 

“Hey. I’m pretty sure the sex was good enough to offset this abomination,” she huffs, setting down her bowl next to yours. “Besides… We’re kinda both in the wrong this time. It’s not always just me you know?”

“Never said it was your fault.” you’re admiring the way her eyes glow in the dim light. At the right angle, it looked like the light was filling her pupils in the most adorable way. “You’re just inferring shit from a passing statement.”

“Wonder where I picked that up from…” she fired back, though it felt much more like she was conceding defeat than challenging further provocation. It was always a dance with her: unpredictable patterns in constant motion, and all you can do is follow her lead.

Maybe one day you’d find the time - make up for the dance you lost and dance with her for real.

Hi. Kinda posting here again because my therapist said that it was good for me to continue writing to regulate my emotions. This one is kinda messy and unedited cause I just wanted to get this out here for funsies. Anyway, I won't be posting as frequently as I used to, but I will drop by from time to time. No promises that I'm gonna be incredibly active and no promises that I won't disappear of the face of the earth again.

Cheers, Nichu

[slytherin-pen]

Meet The Family

pairing: Cazriel x Reader

word count: 902

warnings: none, reader is an over thinker for nothing. short n sweet!

a/n: written for day 2 of @polysjmweek

Your hands trembled slightly as you walked between your mates—Cassian on your left, Azriel on your right, their warmth a reassuring contrast to the cold panic settling in your bones.

A throuple mating bond was rare. Unheard of, even.

Would the High Lord believe it? Would they think it was all some ploy to get close to the General and Spymaster of the Night Court?

What if they didn’t approve? What if they thought it was too brazen? If the High Lord insisted that you must pick one to uphold the image of the royal family?

Cassian must have sensed the spike of anxiety rolling off you, because his fingers found yours, squeezing gently. “You’re shaking, sweetheart.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “Can you blame me?”

Azriel, always attuned to your emotions, brushed a soothing hand down your back. “We told you, they’ll love you. You have nothing to worry about.”

“You don’t know that,” you mumbled.

Azriel’s expression softened, but it was Cassian who stopped in his tracks, his grip on your hand tightening. “Hey.” You turned to find his hazel eyes burning with conviction. “You’re ours. No one gets to question that. Not even our family.”

Azriel nodded, shadows curling around his shoulders as if they had their own points to add to the conversation. “And if they do question it, we’ll handle it. Together.”

The love in their gazes, the unwavering devotion—it was enough to steady you.

And so, with a deep breath, you let them continue guiding you to the River House.

Laughter spilled from the sitting room as you entered. The warmth of a fire crackled in the hearth, golden light flickering over the gathered group.

Rhys lounged in an armchair, his arm draped over Feyre’s shoulders as she murmured something that made him grin. Morrigan was sprawled across the couch, sipping wine, while Amren sat cross-legged beside her, twirling a goblet between her fingers. Nesta and Elain were curled up on the loveseat, engaged in quiet conversation, but it was Nyx—perched on his mother’s lap—who noticed the new arrivals first.

His bright blue eyes widened as he pointed and announced, “Uncle Cassian and Uncle Az brought someone!”

Silence fell and you froze. All at once, every gaze locked onto you.

Rhysand was the first to stand, his expression unreadable. “Well, well,” he mused, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. “I was wondering when you two would stop keeping secrets.”

Cassian chuckled, placing a hand on your lower back, grounding you. Or keeping you from running out the door. “Not a secret. Just… something we wanted to take our time with.”

Azriel gave a slow nod. “We wanted to introduce her when she was ready.”

Morrigan set down her wine, sitting up straighter. “And she is…?”

Cassian grinned down at you. “Our mate.”

You felt like you might implode on the spot, your cheeks warming with all the attention on you. You hadn’t really talked about how they would introduce you to their family but this wasn’t exactly what you had in mind.

“Holy shit.” Mor gaped.

Feyre blinked, looking between the three of you. “A throuple bond?”

Even Amren looked mildly intrigued, which was practically the equivalent of shock for her. “That is rare.”

Your throat felt dry as you swallowed, heart pounding. “I—I know this is… unexpected.”

Feyre smiled gently. “Unexpected doesn’t mean unwelcome.”

You hesitated. “You mean it?”

Rhys’s violet eyes twinkled. “Darling, we’re Fae. The Mother works in mysterious ways.” He lifted a hand, summoning a few bottles of wine with his magic. “Now, I believe a celebration is in order.”

A soft, relieved laugh left you as the tension in your chest unraveled.

Cassian pulled you to the couch, settling you between him and Azriel as drinks were passed around. His arm draped over your shoulders while Azriel’s fingers found yours again, holding them tight.

Mor leaned forward eagerly. “Okay, spill. How’d you three meet?”

Cassian grinned, nudging you. “Should we tell them?”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks warming again. “I think you should tell them.”

Azriel’s lips twitched in amusement, and he glanced at Cassian. “Go on, big guy.”

Cassian launched into the story—how he’d met you first, how you and Azriel had danced around each other like wary predators until the bond had finally snapped into place one fateful night.

“And you took your time accepting it?” Nesta asked, her sharp gaze assessing.

You nodded, voice softer. “They wanted to give me space. To process it and make sure I really wanted it before committing.”

Azriel’s thumb brushed over the back of your hand. “We knew from the start that we loved her. But we also knew that this was uncommon. We didn’t want to rush her on such a big decision.”

Cassian kissed the top of your head. “And we don’t regret a second of it.”

The warmth in their voices, the utter certainty—it made your heart swell.

Mor sighed dramatically. “That’s so romantic.”

Elain smiled. “It is.”

Nesta gave a small nod. “Indeed.”

Rhys chuckled, raising his glass. “To our new sister. And to this rare, extraordinary bond.”

Glasses clinked.

Your heart, once burdened with fear, felt lighter than ever.

Cassian squeezed your shoulder, Azriel pressed a whisper of a kiss to your temple, and you knew there was only one meaning behind the feeling in your chest, the relaxing in your shoulders. You were home.

[girl-lostconnection]

Long awaited continuation to this, let’s go while John Price’s multiverse spirit has me by my fucking hair

John is a man of many qualities.

Discipline, integrity, cold head and sharp mind.

Relatively stable code of ethics he tries to apply when it doesn’t cost him an arm and a leg in the process.

He likes staying this way and he likes how high he managed to climb given his absolute hatred of bureaucracy and strained relationship with higher ups in command.

And a general he once murdered in cold blood.

On the other hand, now he is able to add to his CV “efficient and quick thinker”, so if the day comes and army boots him out, he’d be able to get a job at a place that probably frowns upon on unnecessary murder and his choice of coping mechanisms.

John knows a tad more about self control than most people — the itch under his skin to fight and chase ever present, at times even more intensely than in Simon.

And Simon is a wolf, for fuck’s sake, man is a stalking predator through and through.

But it was always different for John, a deep seated hunger, a need to climb to the top and stay there no matter what it takes and no matter how many he’d need to send tumbling down.

After all, he just does what his gut tells him.

No one’s bloody business if his gut also has sharp teeth and heavy tail and less patience than he would have liked.

John drinks his whiskey until his head is blurry. He usually stops at the glass of two fingers and a wank, getting it out of his system before his systems decides to reboot itself by urging him to maul the first soldier that looks him in the eyes.

This time John finishes three glasses, scales rippling when he stretches out, his own smoke clouding his head.

Not a good look for a captain. But tonight he isn’t one.

Tonight he is just John. Just a man.

A man you seemingly don’t want, but at the same time can’t help but enjoy teasing.

Taunting him with the promise of intimacy that John cannot have, showing affections that aren’t for him. Kisses that he can’t get.

For one or another reason.

It’s been almost three months now since he has given up trying to figure out what was so wrong about him.

Why isn’t he good enough. Why don’t you like him.

On most days he doesn’t have some proper time to spiral into thinking about his own inadequacy or about you kissing him just as sweetly as you do kiss Johnny. As you kiss Kyle.

Bit unfair it all feels, if he’s being completely honest and a little selfish. Bit unfair and a whole lot less serious than his brain makes it out to be.

Unfortunately today is one of the few precious days when he has more than enough time to think or spiral or preferably finish his bloody paperwork because the thing has been mounting on his desk.

And people need these forms filled out yesterday.

John will probably fill them out tomorrow. Maybe.

Maybe not. He isn’t sure, as of right now, your frame pulling his whole focus off the necessary work.

You aren’t doing anything per se, you just write the reports he needed help with, you are being a good teammate, you are being useful. And yet, your presence there is enough to distract him.

Well, maybe not your presence exactly.

There’s something different about your scent today.

Not the regular salt and sweat, that he already got used to. That he had spent the last few months imagining himself licking it off your skin.

Its not even the faint sea smell you bring back in your hair after taking a swim for an hour or two.

Nothing about this scent is sharp or cloying,

This one is sweeter.

Practically tender, melting on John’s tongue.

Soft with something that makes him want to do things he can’t, wrapping around John’s head like a veil, coating his mouth with sheen of something he wants to lap up.

Drives him mad that he doesn’t know what it is he smells. His tongue darting out to taste air, to moisturise his dry lips, heavy head of his tilting to the side.

Something is different today with you, seal. Something has changed and it makes the wires in his head sparkle, buzzing him back to life.

Pulling him out of an ice bath of his self-control he painstakingly forces himself into.

Doesn’t help that your usual unfazed and unbothered demeanour is not with you (why is that, he wonders) — twitchy and antsy, your knee jerks up and down under the table, shaking it with how fast you do it.

Real pity there is no one else around, but John.

No Johnny to ‘check your vibes’, no Simon to settle you down, no Kyle to kiss it better.

Just him.

Just the leftovers you apparently don’t want and the captain you don’t like.

Thought scrapes the inner side of John’s throat, acid bubbling, poison spreading. Bitter taste in his mouth almost enough to make him scowl.

But the instinctual, subconscious urge to care for a distressed member of the team is stronger than his wounded pride and heavier than his stone heart.

So his whole body is angling towards you, voice a little softer when he tries to find out what has changed. What makes you so jittery, seal?

You tick like one of Soap’s favourite bombs, timer running down, quickly approaching zero and maybe you can feel that too.

Somewhere deep under your belly button, the pull that makes you try and get away from him.

Interesting reaction.

“Sergeant?”, John murmurs quietly, his voice snapping you out of whatever haze you were in, your head turning to him quickly.

You don’t stop jerking your knee. Almost like you don’t even realise that you are doing it.

“What’s wrong? You hurt?”, he gets to the point without tiptoeing around it, no use dancing in circles if he can shorten this whole thing, cornering you to your desk. Cutting the exit off.

No way out the corner but through him now.

“Nothing, sir. I’m sorry. Must be tired”, you murmur, throat working, ring finger of yours twitching to tap down on the wood of your desktop, your eyes as bright as ever.

Only the blunt and usually so casual tone of yours cracks when you try to change the topic and move on, when you shake your head at his questions, trying to dislodge John off the matter.

Like hell you would, he can smell that something is happening.

John tilts his head to the side when you are so close he can practically taste the sweat on your skin, his tongue flickering out to lick dry lips and hide back, eyes heavy with hunger you have been taunting for the last…how long has it been, love? Was running around plenty, didn’t you?

Alcohol stomps on the ice of his self-control, cracking it for you. Welcoming you in his deep waters.

He nuzzles in your neck, hands sliding under your sweater, groping the tummy of yours, fingers sinking into warm flesh.

Clicking his tongue at your shaky ‘captain, wait—‘ because there is no need for all of that. The chase and games, the play pretend and teasing. He can smell how much you need a hand right now.

How much you need him.

So it’s true that fortune favours the patient because John has had an angelic temper when it comes to you. And this is the result.

His fingers now fondling your tummy, lips finding the juncture between your neck and shoulder, his beard tickling the heated sensitive skin.

That must be the gift for all the time he had to wait for you to finally come around.

John already knows what it is that changed when he yanks your shirt up, when he pulls the cups of your bra down, when he gets handfuls of your fat tits, thick calloused fingers of his massaging the flesh.

Someone’s having a little problem, don’t you, love?

John already knows what it is that is wrong with your mood because he kisses your neck and you shiver, panting, still trying to whine something about people seeing or someone walking in.

No one will, love.

Don’t you know it?

Komodo dragons thrive on hierarchy. And there is not a person in the whole base who’d like to push him when he’s this fucking busy.

He kneads the flesh of yours, thumb rubbing the areola. Coaxing out what he smelled this whole fucking day, what almost drove him to eat you alive before your own control came apart at the seams.

Milk beads on your nipple, John’s fingers working more of it out, his disappointed ‘tsk’ in your ear makes your knees buckle when he props his chin on your shoulder to see it all better.

So full and so hot under his touch, you’ve been having trouble with getting it out on your own, haven’t you, sergeant?

John knows for a fact that Soap is away for at least two weeks now, John knows even better that you are just out of options.

There literally aren’t anyone else but him who can help. It’s not that he is special or loved or even reliable. It’s the lack of options better than him.

Good news is: John doesn’t care anyway.

You wouldn’t believe it if he told you from just how many hopeless pits he crawled out in his days.

A stacked seal with attachment issues who needs help milking is definitely not the worst of it, love.

He tuts at your attempt to cover up or apologise when his grip tightens and milk squirts out on the desk.

All over the documents he was supposed to pass on yesterday.

Now he will probably pass them on never.

He will either need to suck the milk of yours out of the paper or burn it the fuck down.

John just might burn the bloody forms and tell the administration that he lost them. After all, you aren’t going anywhere.

And no one is coming to save you back until the end of next week.

You have no choice but him, sergeant. No one else to gift your kisses to but your captain.

The bottom of the barrel that you just grazed.

You know, maybe you should have been more careful, sergeant. Maybe you shouldn’t have dived this deep in his waters.

Now you just might not come up back for air.

John rolls his hips into you, lazy, stretching out until he is fully in and then out he goes, his thumb drawling slow excruciating circles on your clit, his thumb patting it like you are a dog that earned a treat.

And not a seal hybrid big enough to curl John into a fucking pretzel.

Though how much good your size is now when John is drooling over the fat of your hips and rolls of your stomach?

How much good your big frame is when your captain is still on the top?

“Didn’t fuck you how they should’ave, eh, sweetheart?”, John rumbles, tongue licking his lips, his hips slotting against yours like he was made for you. Like this is how it was supposed to be from the very beginning. “Can’t sate this greedy hole, can they? Need something bigger, need someone older”, he braces on a forearm above your head, hips of his rolling into yours, his tail wrapping around your leg and pulling you back on his cock.

No running now, no slipping away.

But you whine, clamping down on him, your nipples swollen and sensitive when he cooes and licks one, not yet pulling it in his mouth, not yet giving you this relief.

Just a lick, aye? A taste for your captain, for all his troubles.

John licks off the bead of milk, his system rewiring as he rams back inside of you, his grip tightening because oh, this is so much better than he could have expected.

For one dangerous moment years of his discipline crack down so hard that he almost bottoms out in you, imagining you swollen with a baby. His baby. His seal.

“Wonder what face Simon would make if he finds out I knocked up his seal”, John rumbles, pressing his hips down on yours, feeding you every thick heavy inch of himself. Until you claw at his back, eyes rolling back in your skull.

Getting drunk on just the feel of his cock splitting you.

God, he should have taken you like that the moment you decided it’s a good idea to kiss his lieutenant in front of him.

Should have taken you to the office and should have given your ass a dozen stinging smacks.

Should have taught you some fucking manners, but he wanted to be nice, he wanted you to like him and come to him yourself.

He wanted you to give it to him voluntarily. Because maybe you didn’t actually think he was the worst of the pick. Because maybe you’d want him outside of his attempts to earn the trophy of your affection.

Well, too late for that now, isn’t it?

John clicks his tongue again when you try to crawl away — too overwhelmed to think clearly, too hungry for a thing you are too ashamed to ask for.

Just your luck that John isn’t used to asking anyway.

His lips wrapping around your nipple, sucking it in, lapping at the bud of it, milk of yours blooming on his tongue — rich and thick, dripping down his chin, staying in his beard.

You really are going to cover him all in yourself by the end of it, sergeant.

Might force the man to buy you a ring to lock you down for good.

John groans, his vision crumpling around the edges when you cunt spasms around him, your thighs tensing up, hips rolling into his.

Here comes the first one.

See how nice and easy it was?

If only you have admitted from the very beginning that you like your captain.

If only you stretched around him this nicely, whimpering ‘captain please’ like he is the only one who can give you what you want.

“You are the only or are you just one left?”, vicious voice at the back of his mind sneers and John has to pull his mouth off your tit, least he risks to bite through the tender skin, marking. Permanently.

It doesn’t matter why you let him do this for you.

‘Why’ has never mattered and he should have realised it a long time ago instead of sulking around and hissing at his own men.

What matters is that you let him spread you open and force you down.

What matters is that John’s jaws close on your neck and your pussy squelches so loudly it’s almost enough for him to let it get to his head.

John presses a palm on your back, pressing down until you arch for him, not taking your attempt to wiggle away for an answer.

Why would he when you haven’t been true about your needs ever since he met you?

Why would he when your body is so much more honest than you are — your pussy drools for him, back arches — tits now pressed to the bed, ass up in the air for him to feast.

John knows, sweetheart, your nipples are too sensitive to get rubbed like that.

He is being too rough, he is taking too much and he is too hungry.

All of these are true, sergeant, every single word you are right now choking out when he pulls you right back by the hips.

He slams into you from behind, humming when you cry out trying to get back up, because where do you think you are going? No, love, you’ve been teasing him for months now.

Naughty naughty seal, thought there wouldn’t be any consequences for a fit you threw? Thought that John wouldn’t get to have you one way or another?

Or maybe you hoped that someone else would be here with you now?

He clicks his tongue when you reach for your clit, his palm smacking yours away, pushing you face down in the mattress. No, sweetheart, bad seals don’t get to touch themselves.

If you can’t come from him fucking into you, pressing your heavy leaking tits into the bed then you aren’t coming at all.

See how unfair that sounds? See how mean he has to be with you now?

He wouldn’t have needed to do that if only you came sooner to him.

If you haven’t made him bite down on your throat instead of carefully eating from your open palm, accepting whatever you were willing to offer.

But you didn’t offer a single fucking thing so he had to take the matter in his own hands.

And look where it has gotten him.

Bouncing your ass down on his cock, your greedy fucking hole squeezing him so tightly it drives him half feral.

He’d need to train you proper, sweetheart, show you how to take your captain to the hilt like a good sergeant should.

John will show you, he’s only happy to teach.

And it’s only fair if he gives you an example by stretching out your favourite Johnny right in front of you.

Only fair he gives you a demonstration of how his team did some good seal to dragon communication before you came around.

[astrologydray]

Pallas through the degrees

Each degree gives Pallas a specific tone—some degrees make you a warrior strategist, others a silent psychic, a healer, or a visionary. These tell us how your brain sees the world’s patterns… and how you’re built to solve what others can’t.

0° – Bold and raw strategist; you jump into problems instinctively.

You trust your first hit of intuition and usually nail it before others finish processing.

1° – Strong-willed and fiercely independent in thought.

You’re devoted to your own logic and don’t wait for validation.

2° – Steady, grounded thinker; your intelligence moves slow but deep.

You don’t miss anything—especially when money, loyalty, or long-term value is involved.

3° – Mentally flexible and witty; you process everything through language and vibes.

You’re sharp in conversations and catch subtle patterns quickly.

4° – Deeply intuitive; your intelligence is emotionally rooted.

You read people’s moods and hidden needs without them ever saying a word.

5° – Creative problem solver with childlike spark.

Your strategy often involves humor, art, or playful genius.

6° – Precision thinker; you can spot the flaw in a system instantly.

You’re wired for service, health, and smart solutions that actually work.

7° – Balanced, aesthetic thinker; you see symmetry and fairness in everything.

You solve relational issues with clarity and grace.

8° – Intense psychological strategist.

You’re gifted at seeing what’s not being said—and using that to shift the whole dynamic.

9° – Expansive thinker; your wisdom is philosophical or global.

You’re great at connecting patterns across time, cultures, and beliefs.

10° – Structured, executive strategist.

You organize thoughts into blueprints for success—you’re made for leadership.

11° – Abstract thinker with a gift for innovation.

You’re a mental rebel, always scanning for a smarter, freer way forward.

12° – Quiet mystic; you receive patterns through feeling, not logic.

You download wisdom from the subtle or spiritual realm.

13° – Laser-focused and unshakable.

You’re not afraid of chaos—you can find the center and take control.

14° – Clever, adaptable, and always three steps ahead.

You’re a mental shapeshifter who solves problems with a joke or a twist.

15° – Charismatic and radiant thinker.

You shine when you’re expressing your vision creatively or publicly.

16° – Skillful, steady, and rooted in logic.

You’re great at mastering the basics and building smart, sustainable results.

17° – Diplomatic mind; you can charm and out-think at the same time.

You keep things fair but always strategic.

18° – Powerful, intuitive, and emotionally complex.

You work behind the scenes and can dismantle a problem from the inside out.

19° – Bold belief-based thinker.

You fight with facts and fire—and your opinions usually stick.

20° – Wise beyond your years with a CEO brain.

You apply ancient logic to modern goals, and people trust your judgment.

21° – Inventive thinker with a rebellious edge.

You challenge every norm and usually win.

22° – Quiet and fated intelligence.

Your wisdom feels karmic—almost like you’ve been solving the same soul puzzle for lifetimes.

23° – Imaginative strategist with a dreamy edge.

You solve problems through visuals, feelings, or fantasy worlds that make more sense than reality.

24° – Functional brilliance; you create efficiency like it’s art.

Your logic is beautiful, earthy, and helpful.

25° – Dramatic, compelling thinker.

You perform your intelligence and captivate people in the process.

26° – Deep strategist with a love of hidden systems.

You see patterns in power, pain, and transformation—and know how to work with all three.

27° – Visionary problem solver; you teach others how to think bigger.

Your wisdom is bold, clear, and influential.

28° – Structured and legacy-driven wisdom.

You’re here to make real moves with your mind and leave a mark through strategy.

29° – Karmic closure; you’ve been carrying this sacred intelligence across lifetimes.

Your pattern recognition is profound, and your solutions often feel final, fated, or deeply healing.

[lumitoiile]

venti : [intoxicated.]

summary + tw : argument aftermath, suggested alcohol use; you finally confront him about his drinking problem. slight reverse comfort, angst if you squint, making up. gn! reader (no pronouns.) ╱ word count : 1.5k.

⤷ ꒰★꒱  requested by : @i-am-a-hot-man.

you've been losing your mind ever since he stormed out.

perhaps it's a little silly of you to be worrying this much. after all, it's never been particularly unusual for him to disappear after an argument. he's a free spirit, coming and going like the wind, flitting wherever his whims decide to take him. but, then again...he's never been gone for this long before.

three days. three days with no word, not even a clue as to where he might have gone. you've scoured his usual haunts—angels share, the statue of barbatos, even windrise... but there's no sign of him anywhere. no traces he left behind. the quiet stretches unbearably thin in his absence, leaving you with nothing but your thoughts.

and your guilt.

the feeling rears its head the moment your mind drifts back to the argument, clawing at you restlessly. you'd only wanted to help, to make him understand that his habits were worrying you. but somewhere along the way, your words must have cut too deep.

the evening had started quietly enough. he had come home mid-afternoon, cheeks flushed and his signature giggle carrying an all too familiar slur.

"venti," you had begun, trying to keep your tone light. "how much have you had to drink?

he waved a hand lazily, plucking the strings of his lyre with no tune in mind. "hehe, not much... just enough to keep things fun! lighten up, yeah?"

your brows furrowed, and the faint tension in your chest only grew tighter. "i thought we'd agreed you'd try to cut back."

"and i have!" he quipped, his grin so carefree it bordered on infuriating. "why, i've only had... hmm. maybe six glasses?"

"six," you'd repeated, patience growing thinner. "venti, this is the third time this week. do you know how worried i get when you disappear for hours on end, only to come home like this?"

his laughter faltered, even if only for a moment. "worried? pfft, there's no need to worry about me! i'm perfectly fine."

"except you're not," you insisted, voice soft but firm. "you're clearly anything but fine. you disappear, drown yourself in wine, and never tell me why."

something on his face flickered at that. something raw and unguarded. but he quickly masked it with another chuckle, letting out a string of giggles. "come onnn... you're making this a bigger deal than it needs to be."

"because it is a big deal!" the words had tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them, the frustration starting to spill over. "not only does this obviously affect you, but do you even care about how it makes me feel? how hard it is to watch you get like this and not know what to do?"

venti stilled, his fingers tightening around the neck of his lyre. for a moment, you thought he might actually say something. something real, something honest. but then he stood, his gaze flickering toward the door.

"i didn't come here for a lecture," he muttered, voice coated with a sharpness you'd never heard from him before.

"wait—" you started to call out for him, but he was already moving, already leaving. he stormed out and shut the door with a soft click, echoing like a thunderclap in the silence he left behind.

and now it's been days since you last spoke. you've been waiting anxiously for him, watching the clock hands as the hours pass by, unable to shake the argument from your memory. he's always been quick to disappear after a dispute, his wanderer's heart leading him away from confrontation.

but still, you worry. how could you not? venti may be an eccentric free thinker, but he's also deeply sensitive, even if he hides it behind playful smiles and poetic musings. you saw the way his eyes flashed with hurt, the way he stiffened and froze up at what you had said. it's not just his absence that weighs on you; it's the thought of where his mind might have strayed in the time he's been away.

it's only when the third evening descends that you finally hear it. the faint, uneven creak of the front door swinging open. the hesitant patter of familiar footsteps.

your breath catches, and you nearly trip over yourself as you rush to the entryway. and when you see him standing there, you all but freeze in your tracks.

venti stands against the structure of the door, framed by the soft amber hues of twilight. his usual playful demeanor is nowhere to be seen. instead he looks... exhausted. his clothes are disheveled, hair tousled by the relentless wind, and there's a hollow look in his seafoam eyes. he grips his lyre loosely by his side, strings still and lifeless; a reflection of the bard himself.

"venti," you breathe, voice trembling. relief surges through you, but so does a sting of anger and hurt.

"...im home," he says quietly, but his voice cracks on the last word, betraying the stoicism he'd been trying to maintain.

you take a tentative step forward, unsure whether to embrace him or demand an explanation. but before you can decide, his knees buckle, and you spare no time in lunging forward to catch him. his weight collapses against you, his head finding shelter against your shoulder.

"you've been gone for three days," you whisper. there's an edge in your voice he isn't used to.

"i know."

"you can't just leave like that."

"i know."

"do you have any idea how worr—"

"i know," he blurts, voice muffled against your skin as he hurries the words out. "i...im sorry. i thought—i thought some time away would help, that maybe i could clear my head, but really i just... i couldn't face you."

you only let out a sigh, guiding him to the sofa and gently urging him to sit as you kneel by his side. he doesn't resist. instead, he clutches his lyre to his chest, as if it's the only shield he has left.

he lets out a shaky breath, gaze falling to the floor. "i messed up," he says. "i always do, don't i? i drink too much, i laugh too loud, i push too far... and whenever you bring it up, i run instead of fixing it."

your expression softens, but the soft ache in your chest doesn't fade. "venti," you whisper, eyes locked on the way his fingers curl tighter around his lyre. "you haven't ruined anything. im upset because you left for three days with no warning. you could have left a letter, a sign, something to tell me if you were okay or not."

he exhales shakily, forcing out a breathless, half-hearted laugh. "i didn't mean to make you worry so much. i just—" he swallows hard. "it's... strange."

"what is?" you ask, tilting your head.

"ive never had a place to come home to before," he admits, voice low and barely a whisper. "not really. not with walls and warmth and someone waiting on the other side of the door. i've always just... wandered, went along wherever the wind took me. and for a long time, that was fine."

the bard's hands tremble against the lyre, so slight you almost don't notice. "but now there's you. and suddenly, im not used to the idea of someone worrying about where i go or what i do. caring when i disappear, it's..." he hesitates before finally meeting your gaze, eyes glassy. "it's all so new. it kind of terrifies me."

your heart twists at his admission. the hardship he carries isn't just in his drinking, but in his avoidance; it's in the way he's convinced himself that he doesn't deserve the care you offer so freely.

he lets out a weak chuckle. "i guess part of me thought it'd be easier if i just... ran. that maybe if i left first, i wouldn't have to deal with what it means to be cared for like this." he stops, voice wavering. "but all it did was remind me that i don't want to be without you."

all the air leaves your lungs. in that moment, any lingering frustration melts away, replaced by a deep, overwhelming understanding.

slowly, carefully, you reach out, prying his hand free from his lyre so you can lace your hands together. he nearly shudders at the touch. "you don't have to run," you tell him gently, giving his fingers a squeeze. "i just want to understand you, venti. i want to be there for you. but i can't do that if you keep shutting me out."

his gaze flickers with something vulnerable, and with another breathless laugh, he squeezes your hand back. "i know. i'll try," he says, voice uncharacteristically fragile. "i promise you, i will."

you smile, relief flooding your core. "good."

and as the last of the evening light filters through the window, the archon exhales, silently resting his forehead against yours. he's all but discarded his lyre, and his grip on your hand is firm. he doesn't have all the answers. he's still scared. but this? this feels like a start.

for once in all his years, he doesn't want to run.

© lumitoiile. please do not copy, steal, translate, or edit my work.

[daenysx]

hi hello!! i've just found your blog and i adore it and your writing! <3 do you mind if i request remus lupin or james potter (whichever you prefer) with a reader who has excruciating period cramps? thank you sm!! :)

hi gorgeous, thank you for being so nice!! i once wrote a period fic with james, this is the remus version, i hope you like them both <3333

remus lupin x fem!reader

remus makes you another cup of hot tea, but he's not sure if you can drink it.

it breaks his heart, the way you try to lay down on your bed but being unable to relax. your entire body is tense, he knows the effects of your period by heart now. he also knows it's useless to try to cheer you up when you can't even feel your legs properly. he only wants you to get over the first three days which are always the hardest to get through.

"hi, pretty girl." he comes next to you with your tea. "i made you some tea."

"thank you, remus." you say, trying to sit up. remus helps you. "thanks."

"here you go." he holds the cup for you. it's too hot. "i hope this helps a bit."

you take a sip. your boyfriend is lovely with his wide eyes, his eagerness to do anything to make you feel better. the tea is nice. it would be nicer if your cramps weren't so bad.

"oh!" you suddenly hold your belly. the pain is always shocking, catches you unexpectedly. remus gets the cup from your hands. he knows it's for the best to stay calm, you're already hurting, he doesn't need to be another thing for you to worry about.

"it's okay, dove." he tries. "can i hold you?"

you nod. "please." he opens his arms to get you. putting your head on his shoulder, you give another painful sound coming deep from your throat. remus keeps his hands on your back.

"it's okay, it'll pass." he whispers against your head with a huge hand rubbing your back. "do you wanna go to the bathroom?"

you shake your hand, blinking tears back. "no. maybe later. i don't think i can stand up."

"tell me when you want to go, okay? i'll help you."

your hand finds remus's, he squeezes your fingers. he kisses your hair the way you like, too many kisses all at once. he's so warm, you lean against his heat to feel him. "i'm okay." you say. he nods, looking at you to see if you mean it.

"can we cuddle?" he asks, his eyes are pleading. "if you're okay to lie down?"

"okay." you say. "i just- my legs hurt, i don't feel too comfortable."

remus is a quick thinker. he likes to think he knows what he's doing when it comes to holding you, there are too many positions you like but when you are on your period, he needs to be the one to take the weight off you. he lies down, gets you in his arms as you put your leg on his legs. remus puts your head on his chest, his long arms securely wrapped around your shoulders.

"good?" he asks. you nod, and he smiles. "i'm gonna rub your back, okay? tell me if anything hurts, dove."

"it's nice." you say, because it really is. his fingers know your body so well, he also knows where to put pressure and where to be kind. you force yourself to relax on him. sleep usually distracts you, it can work right now. you make quiet noises which guide remus to see if he's doing okay. he rubs your poor muscles until his hand goes numb.

"my tea got cold." you say, sadly.

"i can always make you a new one." remus says with a huge kiss on your forehead. "don't worry about it, sweetheart."

you hum quietly, press a little kiss on his clothed chest. remus's fingers go through your hair now, he braids a little piece to help you relax, you still don't know how he does it with one hand. the next few minutes are quiet but neither of you are uncomfortable because of the silence. you like remus's peaceful aura, he brings relief to your painful times, he keeps his cool. you are tired but never tired enough to not kiss his neck and show him how much you adore him.

another cramp hits you. it's not as painful as the earlier but you feel it deeper in your muscles because you lay down. you snuggle closer to remus, trying to bury yourself to his warmth until it passes.

remus cups your cheek. "you're doing so good." he says. "i know it hurts too much but try to focus on me, yeah? maybe you'll feel better if you sleep."

you feel so desperate and so needy for his affirmation, it hurts. "can you hold me tighter? until i fall asleep?"

"of course, baby." he coos. "if you feel worse when you wake up, i can get you a painkiller."

you nod against his chest. remus wraps his arms tighter around you until you feel nothing but him. you try to hug him back, it's a bit unsuccessful attempt but he supports your waist to keep you on himself. his hand on your waist is a nice weight, better than any heating pad you use. you take a deep breath of his familiar scent.

"it'll pass." he says before you close your eyes. "i'll hold you as long as you have me."

he's being too sweet, too precious. you would blush and hide yourself to his chest but your brain is focused on the pain, sadly. you still give remus a nice kiss, though. he keeps his lips on your head until your breathing evens out.

[iravaid]

remade this old post of my DQIX OCs, this time taking more inspiration from Toriyama's art style

more about these thangs below :}

Crux

the Guardian of Angel Falls, generally mistaken as a minstrel before becoming an armamentalist.

Soft spoken, reserved, and uses very formal, if not at times archaic, language.

Forgets that people can see her, now, and doesn't always realise questions are being directed her way (and that people can see her staring at them).

Holds a deep love and faith in humanity: if there was no goodness in the hearts of man, then she would not exist. Hope is deeply integral to her, and Crux is often admired for her steadfastness in the face of dark times.

Due to the strict, and innate, hegemony within Celestrian 'society' (i would argue they don't functionally have one: no history, no arts, no free will outside of shepherding their flock. There is a tragedy in that they will leave no true mark when they return to the skies), Crux sees the monarchies and caste systems throughout the Protectorate as something to be deeply respected and adhered to, which causes friction with some of the mortal party members.

When attempting to escape the Goretress during the revolt, her Celestrian identity is revealed. Crux is apprehended by Barbarus and Hootingham-gore before she can get away, and she's locked down in the Oubliette. It takes months before her friends are able to reunite and save her, as well as liberating the prisoners of the Goretress.

Her Celestrian identity is revealed in Wormwood, much to the confusion of her party members. Acceptance comes eventually, although there is no small amount of crises of faith when they enter the realm of the Almighty and learn their god tried to destroy their entire species.

Of all the party members, Crux is the one to recruit and consistently see past Tomas' hostile exterior. She witnessed him tending to a dying child in Coffinwell, praying and holding her hand as her strength slowly dwindled, and was touched by the priest's quiet dedication.

Thrae

A Stornish blacksmith's daughter who feels dissatisfied with living a mundane life, seeking out adventure after helping to resolve the Wight Knight issue.

Rash, powerful, and no-nonsense. She's generally the one to end any arguments, even ones she's not a part of. Sees no point in lingering on grudges, often to the detriment of real progress.

Completely incapable of magic (a blacksmith's daughter: iron in her bloodline), which becomes a source of deeper insecurity as she travels the world and watches her friends become more powerful in ways she can never achieve. Overcompensates by being increasingly reckless in her melee.

Injured attempting to find Crux after she's captured by the Gittish Empire, ending up stranded on the Pluvi Isle chain with Unscrupulous Maximus, who is in self-imposed exile. This leaves Thrae with chronic pain, reduced mobility, and fatigue issues for the rest of her life, something she must learn to live with, however difficult. Finding her place as a protector and also someone who needs protecting in turn helps her to learn the ways of a gladiator.

Her rashness and impulsiveness eventually becomes tempered, Thrae becoming a more tactical and independent thinker. Where once she'd been content to follow Crux's orders and not worry too much about it, Thrae now sees the importance of measured actions and being critical of people in positions of power.

As the oldest of three siblings, is very good with kids. After travelling with the party, Thrae finds herself teaching others about the gladiator vocation, as well as filling in as a part-time axe instructor at Swinedimples.

Zanni

Only child of two wealthy Gleeban merchants, and magic prodigy grown bored of his studies in Swinedimples: Zanni set out into the Protectorate to find adventure and challenge.

Incredibly intelligent, prideful, arrogant, and a deeply creative young man. Zanni is the youngest member of the party but experiences the most inner change through the events of the story.

When trying to find Crux after the events in Upover, Zanni finds himself apprehended by Hootingham-gore, who has had an interest in Gleeban magi for a very long time. Zanni manages to slip away but remains trapped in the rotting palace due to the barriers put in place. Here, he uncovers hidden histories about Gleeba and the Gittish Empire.

Upon discovering the Supreme Sage, a high-ranking Gleeban Sage who had been apprehended by the Gittish Empire during an invasion on the Khalaag Coast. The two monarchies used to be allies, Gleeba providing sages as advisors and diplomats to the Gittish. But, in an unnamed tragedy on the Khalaag coast, many sages of Gleeba were captured and used in experiments that would eventually result in the Gittish's mastery of necromancy and the machines used to harvest Celestrian energy.

With no one but the sage in the pages for company in a horrific, hostile place, Zanni asks to learn how to become one himself. The Sage, who had grown fond of the witty young man, mentions that while 'dark' magic is not inherently evil, simply a natural opposite to healing, it has a cost associated to it that seems scary to those outside the circles. Zanni trades his left eye to gain the knowledge of 'dark' magic, and Sage gives up his remaining strength to create a rune staff, as a final gift. Zanni, with new abilities, is alone. But now he knows how to sever the barriers keeping him trapped in the palace.

Learning of the tragedy in Gleeba, as well as his own personal struggles, Zanni matures into someone wiser, more mature. He still has his sense of humour, but his boyish charm has been replaced with a sense of quiet sadness. He is the only sage, now, and Zanni now recognises the importance of that. For the first time in his life, he feels intimidated by the thought of failure.

Tomas

The beleagured team healer, once a thief from Dourbridge, Tomas found a new calling at Alltrades Abbey as a priest.

Pessimistic, sardonic, and incredibly fed up with everything and everyone, Tomas is often at odds with the other party members. He finds Zanni to be an annoying, arrogant rich boy with too much power on his hands, Thrae a thoughtless brute who would rather someone else think for her, and holds a deep suspicion of Crux, whose kindness he struggles to believe has no ulterior motive. But Tomas gradually warms up to these people, seeing their strengths and accepting (while sometimes challenging) some their faults. His loyalty and trust are hard won, but when gained is as unwavering as he is in battle.

Is the descendant of a brutal Gittish commander who was cursed by a dying sage. As a result, Tomas sees the ghosts of people killed by the Gittish Empire's conquest (he isn't aware of the last part, simply believing he can see any ghost at all).

Met the party in Coffinwell, where he and a small detachment of priests were sent to try and help combat the plague, to very little success. Tomas had been exhausted and grieving the people he 'failed' when the party rucked up and swept him away on a strange adventure into the old Quarantomb.

Once connected to the thieves' guild in Dourbridge, which causes important developments as the shanty town comes into conflict with industrial behemoth that is Bloomingdale, due to Marion's kidnapping leading to people seeking retribution by targeting the former.

Stays in Upover to fend off the encroaching Gittish invasion, after Greygnarl's death. This causes conflict with Thrae and Zanni, who wish to seek out Crux and save her. Tomas, feeling partly responsible for Upover's beseigement, refuses to leave the people, leading Thrae to call him a coward. The battles to fend off the necrotic monsters are long and brutal, and Tomas does not have his friends to help.

Initially a caustic individual, Tomas' temper cools and he finds a sense of peace and worth in becoming a paladin. He learns how to find faith in the common man, after a crisis of faith in the Realm of the Almighty. Tomas has always had the capacity for kindness, but finds it easier to express as the journey continues.

He encounters the ghost of Brunhilde, a Herman paladin who fell in battle in Upover, during the first Gittish invasions many decades ago. She and Bombax teach him the ways of the paladin, Tomas and the residents of Upover willing to try and fight managing to push back the Gittish until they retreat. He then sets out to find his party, resulting in the three of them uniting at the Goretress and accidentally holding separate, simultaneous break-ins.

[leovenuslatina]

kiss and tell 💋

⋆♱✮♱⋆

what your future spouse says about you to their friends and families

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆

psa - tarot readings are not set in stone

take what resonates leave what doesn’t

you’re fully in control of YOUR own life

⋆♱✮♱⋆

take a deep cleansing breathe

pick a pile that calls to you

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。

{pile one - ace paper swords, five of pentacles, page of cups}

~

your person brags about you for sure!! they tell their friends and family how accomplished you are and how successful and beautiful you are!! they are the type to blush and smile so hard whenever you name comes up.they tell their friends and family how strong you are and how they feel like to two if you are meant to be. they may tell their family that you’ve been through a lot in you life and that you’ve gotten through some pretty rough things and how they really admire how incredible you are. they feel as though they have to praise you whatever chance they get not in a bad way but just because they want you to know that they feel so fortunate to be with you. they tell their parents about how they want to marry you and have kids with you all the milestone of their life they want you there!!

-

^extra messages^

_ playfullness

_ innocence

_ romance

_inner child

_chemistry

_ magnetic attraction

_self love/self care

_you deserve love

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。

{pile two - knight of wands, queen of swords , king of swords}

~

so much . literally don’t get them started when i was shuffling the card a bunch just bursted out at once 😭which tells me that they can’t stop talking about you like whether people ask about you or not. they are the type to see a color or a random object and just go off on a rant about how that reminds them of you or one of you favorite things. when your fs talks about you they say you’re a determined person you do whatever you set you mind on you have hella focus and discipline. you fs says you’re energetic and passionate. they will say you’re a charming person who knows what your worth is. your fs tells everyone how self confident you are and how sure of yourself you can be. pile 2 when your fs talks about you they glow ! they say how you’re a quick witted thinker you’re organized and perceptive. your fs always says that you’re clever and highly skilled mentally. overall pile 2 your fs can’t stop sharing about you to no matter who will listen.

~

^extra messages^

_ supportive

_ encouraging

_ truthful

_ logical

_self discipline

_lawful

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。

{pile three - 2 of swords, high priestess}

~

pile 3 what your future spouse will tell their friends and family is how much power you hold over them you’re a power house and you’re not even trying. you’re high maintenance and hard to please but they like that. they tell their friends and family about how hard to get you are and how hard you make them work for your attention and they love it!!! they say you’re magical and mystical and shit lmao like you say stuff that they were thinking and you can predicted things just before they happen. they are absolutely in awe of you fr!! they think you’re mysterious pile 3 everyday they learn something new about you and they fall more in love youre like a gift that just keeps on giving. pile 3 any time anyone asks your fs about you they just list off things they love about you like that you’re understanding and nurturing you’re kind and nonjudgmental.

~

^extra messages^

_intuition

_purples and blues

_insightful

_ manifesting a soulmate

_wisdom

���°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。

{pile four - 4 of cups, the artist, 6 of cups}

~

what your FS says to their friends and family is you’re a a very creative person and you have so much passion about everything you bring into the world. you’re the type of person that’s constantly reinventing themselves. they tell their family that you live learning and exploring and that your mind is constantly growing and working and moving at a million miles an hour. they are very impressed with you. they also tell their families that you’re a generous person. you may make a lot of money or come from a home that is very wealthy but you don’t act as though you’re better than anyone and you help others in need. they say you’re a very helpful person and you’re always there whenever anyone needs a friend.

~

^extra messages^

+boredom

+interpreter

+learning

+prosperity

+favor

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。

[gf2bellamy]

my headcanon is that spencer is a passenger princess which is fine by me I like driving 🎀

spencer is such a deep thinker and tends to get wrapped up in his own head, so when you’re driving, it’s like he can finally let go of the constant analyzing and overthinking.

if you’re driving somewhere far, he might even bring his book and read it while you drive.

when it comes to directions, he’s the best navigator.

“It’s three more exits and then a right turn at the next stoplight.”

he also probably starts rambling about every street and corner

“Actually, did you know that this highway is the longest continuous route in the country? ”

“If we take a left at the next intersection, we can avoid traffic for about 2 miles. ”

you’ll notice he’s always resting his head against the window or occasionally staring out the window.

occasionally, he’ll glance over at you with a soft smile “You look nice today.”

spencer also loves snacking on road trips—you’ll probably find him with a little stack of snacks, mindlessly munching away while you drive, asking if you want some.

“I packed extra. Just in case.”

[m4rried2the-moon]

⁽ 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘢 𝘱𝘪𝘤 ⁾ 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶?

what is it about you that draws people in? what kind of people do you attract?

please only take what resonates, don’t second guess that gut feeling and remember this is mainly for entertainment purposes!

pile 1 - ace of wands, seven of cups, five of swords, three of pentacles. you attract: two of wands, ace of cups, page of wands.

what it is about you, pile one, that attracts people the most is your ability to go for what you want, and the way you inspire others to do the same. you’re someone who can take a hit and keep on going—you don’t hold grudges very long and your forgiving and collaborative spirit make others want to hang out with you. others feel like they talk to you without the fear of judgement. you are a deep thinker, i feel like people look up to you for guidance and to give them the real advice they need (hardly ever sugarcoated). you’re a positive, dynamic individual who’s assured in most everything you do. also, seeing that you may very well be someone who’s very easy to get a long with (even if intimidating at first from your sheer emperor/king of wands energy).

the people you attract are often in the same boat, you may meet a lot of people who are equally as sensitive and intuitive as you may be. most of your associates/friends may have the same attitude, equally as imaginative, creative and go-getting as you. your relationships and interaction can give others a sense of belonging and mental/emotional clarity. those who can’t handle the heat definitely head straight out of your kitchen and those who can cook enthusiastically with you.

pile 2 -four of wands, the fool, page of wands, two of wands. you attract: ace of swords, ace of wands, two of pentacles and five of cups.

what it is about you, pile two, is that you make people feel like they’ve found the right person (in any case). you carry the energy of excitement and novelty wherever you go. people look at you and think ‘what’s their secret?’ when you’re having fun all by yourself or even out with others. i feel like you’re a fighter in the sense you aren’t afraid to go to bat for those you care about, and your values. you’re the first to speak up and last to leave the party because you’re being kept by everyone. you have a clear sense of direction and a unending lust for life.

the people you attract may not know what they want often times, but you do a good job at inspiring them. they may find you with the intention of your enthusiasm sparking something new in them. you give them inspiration to flesh out themselves by watching how fulfilled you are and thinking ‘how can i live to the fullest like them?’ you pull them away from their regrets and guilt of the past and some people may even idolize you (possibly an unhealthy amount). you can make them feel like your their only friend or they are the only person in the world (your passion and sensitivity to people).

pile 3 - queen of wands, page of swords, ace of wands, ace of cups. you attract: ace of swords, four of wands, six of swords, two of cups.

what it is about you, pile three, is that you are intelligent, put together and a leader in the eyes of many. your leadership and ability to solve problems inspires others to trust you and keep an eye on what you’ll do next. others may even see you as a know-it-all but that also can be attractive to them. you go for what you believe is the best for you and advise others to follow the same. the way you speak to people inspires them in your passion and your ability to guide others is natural. people like you because you pull no punches about your intentions, and better yet just end up going for what it is you want and accomplishing things as soon as you get the whim. you’re dedicated, and others love that about you.

those you attract are often equally as truthful and intelligent as you, they find your presence to be a time of celebration and joy. you give the people around you a sense that everything will be okay, whatever they were dealing with before feels very small and insignificant with you. whether that be trauma or just a bad day, when you interact with those who respect/admire you (or even strangers), you can give them this great sense of relief from a harder time—you help people relax.

thanks for reading! hope you got what you needed ♡ don’t forget to like/reblog

[ravens-two]

PAC: Your Next Romantic Relationship

This reading includes:

the person you'll be dating next

The extended reading includes:

when and how you'll meet this person

what the relationship will be like

any 18+ messages

Disclaimer: this is just for entertainment purposes, and as a pick-a-card reading it may not resonate for everyone. Also, this content is 18+ only!

TIPS | BOOK A READING WITH ME | PATREON | LINKTREE | SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC

Pile 1

Who are you dating next

Eight of Cups, Moon, Tarragon - Regeneration

The first thing I'm getting for this person is that they could be a scientist or work in research, maybe even as a teacher. They seem like really deep thinkers and people who are very well-read or that tend to read a lot. Besides spending a lot of time and energy on their work - that seems to be their passion - they also look like they really enjoy traveling. Some of them may have to travel for work (and now I'm seeing that some are archeologists or something like that), but most seem to travel for pleasure. No matter what your next person is someone who has travelled a lot and has seen a lot of the world - and even if they haven't travelled "that much" it could be that you haven't travelled much at all so that's why it seems so much.

Your person is also a very deep thinker. I'm getting something very specific about them which is that they like to get to the depth of any subject. Let's say that you're talking about your favourite dishes, your person wants to get to the bottom of the subject, they want to analyze why you love those dishes, the memories you have of them, how hard or easy they are to cook, then they may get into the culinary arts in general or the history of food or something like that. Do you know what I mean? Once you start talking about something with them it's like they unravel the subject as if it were a ball of yarn.

Your person seems to be an introvert. They don't really like crowds and tend not to go out or party too much, they prefer to keep to their friend group or to small groups in general. I feel that this is also related to how much and how deeply they like to talk, it's better suited for smaller groups. For some of you it might also surprise you that this person is more spiritual than you thought. They might not practice anything in particular (including religion), but they very much believe in something bigger than them and are very open to the spiritual side of things. This is also someone who has been through a lot and has had to reinvent themselves multiple times. I feel like your person is very wise and has a lot of life experience specifically because of this - they've just been through so much shit that would have broken down any other person.

When it comes to their appearance I'm seeing pale skin - and depending on skin tone you can even see their veins - and dark hair. Mostly black and brown hair, but I'm also seeing red (dyed I think).  In general, they seem to be taller and leaner. Even for the men they don't like they are very muscled. I'm also seeing that some of them have dark circles under their eyes. So what I just heard was that they "look a bit like a fucked up Tim Burton character come to life" lol. I do think that they are good-looking but in that Timothée Chalamet type of way. Also, I think that your person has huge eyes!

check out the extended reading on patreon

Pile 2

Who are you dating next

Three of Wands, Strength, Marigold - Positivity

The first thing I'm seeing for this pile is tanned skin and defined muscles. Your person looks like they spend the whole day under the sun. I'm literally seeing them wet as if they had just come out of water. An interesting detail I just got is that they have body hair, especially for the men they seem to have hair on their chest and tights. I feel like for most of you this person has really dark eyes, the lightest color I can see here is a darker shade of hazel eyes. No matter what they have warm and very expressive eyes. It's the type of eyes that you feel safe just looking at them, honestly.

Speaking of warmth and safety I think that your person just radiates those vibes, especially if they're a man. They seem/are someone who's reliable and handy, basically someone who you can call at any time of day or night and you know that they'll find some way to help you. They also seem the type of person who really cares about the safety of your friends, not just yours. This is very specific to some of you, it doesn't really apply to everyone, but your person also has a bit of a himbo energy. Like they have a really good heart, very good looking and strong looking too, but not much going on in their pretty head. But, again, this is just for some of you! For most of you this is someone who is pretty smart and very aware of the current political/social climate.

One of the main things I'm seeing is that your person is very hopeful and definitely an optimist. They try to cheer you up whenever they feel like you're feeling down or when you need just an extra push of motivation. The thing that keeps coming up though is that isn't just for you it's for your friends, their friends, the people around you two. It makes me think of those guys who only want to buy a drink to the girl they're interested in instead of the whole group and it's the polar opposite of that. If you're hanging out with your person and your friends, your person will make sure to treat your friends well and make them feel welcomed.

For some reason I feel like your person might be a firefighter or EMT, I'm not sure why, but it seems like more of a physical/manual type of work. This person doesn't look like they're sitting behind a desk the whole day. They might work the night shift too. No matter what they do, their work is a source of satisfaction for them and their "way to contribute to society" so it's important that their work aligns with their values. This person has a bleeding heart and they're always trying to help whenever they can. They might do volunteer work or community work of some kind, but this is someone who really cares about their community and the world around them. A bit random, but your person might cry very easily, just like watching a commercial or something like that. It seems that they are very emotional. A bit like pile 1 in that sense, but I also feel that your person has been through a lot and that's exactly what made them kinder and made them worry more about the people around them. Very, very specific but I think that hunger and poverty is something that really "hurts" them if that makes sense. It would be the thing that they would just erase if they could.

check out the extended reading on patreon

Pile 3

Who are you dating next

Sun, World, Sweet corn - Ritual

Okay, the first thing I'm seeing is that your person loves eating and cooking and feeding people to be honest. They see meals almost as a sacred ritual that helps to create stronger bonds with other people. I feel like they're really good cooks, especially because they have a good palate. Your person also seems like the type of person that is really close to their family, like calling/texting them every day, sharing a meal together every weekend, that kind of stuff.

This person might have OCD or something like that, but their daily rituals seem very important to them. They are someone who loves routine and feel a bit anxious when things don't go as they had planned. Honestly, that seems to be the biggest issue for them they get really disappointed/annoyed when they plan something and it doesn't happen, even in simple things. Let's say that you two plan to go watch a movie and eat popcorn, but when you get there there ins't popcorn. Well your person is devastated. It's only for a couple of moments, but yeah it really hits them strong.

With the Sun and the World though, this is a very successful and hard-working person, but also someone who is very happy go lucky. Like they genuinely believe that life is beautiful and a miracle and they will romanticize even the smallest things. They seem like the type of person who will just tell you "it's going to be fine" even in the face of something absolutely tragic and that couldn't possibly "be fine" (somehow they may end up being right though).

They seem to have a very child-like and radiant personality too if that makes sense. In a way it's because they really attract other people's attention just for being themselves, but also because they just seem so genuinely happy and joyful. When they laugh it makes other people want to laugh as well. You may get an instinct to protect them at times, because it seems that they are too innocent for this harsh world. They're definitely dreamers and they think that even the smallest action can change the world. They have strong beliefs about what they think is wrong with the world and what should be changed.

When it comes to appearance I'm seeing blonde or light brown hair, maybe even some ginger here too or maybe a brass tone. In general, I'm seeing really long hair, especially for the women, and mostly wavy or curly. Although I think that the shorter your person's hair is the curlier it is. For their eyes I also lighter eyes here, even the brown eyes are more of a honey shade. The most striking thing though is that your person - no matter what they look like - is very beautiful. They get other people's attention precisely because of how physically striking they are. I feel like they tend to be very symmetrical and their bodies are very good looking too. It seems that they tend to be taller and curvier, both men and women.

check out the extended reading on patreon

Pile 4

Who are you dating next

Two of Wands, Ten of Wands, Peppermint - Success

While doing the reading for this pile "Ocean Eyes" suddenly came up so I really feel like your person is probably going to have blue or green eyes, maybe even hazel too. I also feel like their eyes have this very emotional quality to them, it's like you could get lost them in them because they're so expressive. Honestly, I get a very big Ian Somerhalder vibe here like with the dark hair and very light eyes and that contrast. I think that in general your person is a person of contrasts, of light and dark and even contradictions.

Do you know that Walt Whitman's poem "Do I contradict myself? / Very well then I contradict myself / (I am large I contain multitudes)"? I think that they really embody these lines. I'm also getting Fernando Pessoa's "I am nothing. / I shall never be anything. / I cannot even wish to be anything. / Apart from this, I have within me all the dreams in the world." Your person is very, very poetic pile 4. Maybe they're into literature (especially the classics) or they really love reading/writing poetry. This person is very deep, but again, filled with contradictions. They are hard to understand because they seem to be many things all at once. It's a very Gemini energy to be honest.

Apart from this your person is also very successful. They may come from money or they worked really hard until they got to where they are. No matter what though they dedicate a lot of their time to their work, to the point that they can't even rest properly because they can't take their mind off work. Some of them might also have some personal project or a business that they feel very passionate about and are just waiting for the right time to "launch" it. They're someone who makes a lot of plans, but not like in pile 3, more in the sense of making a plan to break down the steps that they need to take. This is for organization not control, if that makes sense. They also seem to really enjoy traveling, but either don't have much time for it or they end up getting tired in the middle of their trip. They feel like the type of person who has wanderlust, but also gets homesick easily. 

They are introverts for sure, and although this doesn't mean that they're antisocial it really does feel like they spend more time at home or by themselves. To me this feels more like they never really get the company that they crave. They really need mental stimulation, and the people around them can't really offer them that. Something that's coming up is that they might struggle with the little demon and angel on their shoulders sometimes. I feel like the little devil sometimes really wants them to cause some mischief or chaos and they try to control this. Honestly, what I'm getting from this is that they may annoy you on purpose, for their own amusement. I don't think that this is toxic, it's more meaningless stuff that will make you laugh rather than really annoy you.

What I can tell you pile 4 is that your person is very, very unique. I think you'll know it's them as soon as you meet them because you'll think that you've never met someone like this.

check out the extended reading on patreon

[otp-after-dark]

"The Right Kind of Wrong": Why Nick Blaine Is the Man June Will Choose

A Multi-fandom Deep Dive into the Flawed Men Who Were Ultimately Chosen

Let's not freak out with this Nick/June arc - this wouldn't be the first OTP example of being "wrong" but still chosen in the end.

Logan Echolls. Damon Salvatore. Chuck Bass. And finally, Nick Blaine. What unites them isn’t just the brooding intensity or magnetic angst—it’s that they all loved one woman so much, it changed the course of their lives. These men are chaotic, deeply imperfect, and often self-destructive, but they become something steadier, truer, and more honest through love. The women—Veronica, Elena, Blair, and June—each had “better” options on paper. But paper isn’t where love lives.

The Blueprint of the Flawed Antihero in Love

Logan Echolls: Abused, volatile, spiraling—but he loves Veronica with a desperate purity. She sees the real him when no one else does. She makes him want to be better, and sometimes, he is. He doesn’t deserve her, but he would die for her.

Damon Salvatore: The bad brother. The impulsive one. But he never stops loving Elena—without expectation, without conditions. When she chooses him, it’s because she sees the humanity beneath the monster.

Chuck Bass: The epitome of toxic wealth and entitlement. But Blair is his axis. Every empire he builds, every moment of growth, traces back to her influence.

In all three, love is a catalyst for redemption—but not total transformation. The men remain flawed, and the women choose them anyway, not because they’re “fixed,” but because they are deeply known.

Safer Options, Softer Love

Each female lead is offered a gentler version of love:

Veronica has Piz: kind, stable, non-threatening.

Elena has Stefan: noble, protective, “the good brother.”

Blair has Dan: emotionally available, unselfish, aspirational.

June has Luke: loyal, morally upright, a symbol of the “before” world.

These men represent security. But security isn’t everything. These women are survivors, fighters, and thinkers. What they seek isn’t peace—it’s someone who can hold the fire with them, and that's why they are drawn to them.

Why Nick Is the Culmination of the Trope

Nick doesn’t have the flashy bad-boy label, but he shares key DNA with Logan, Damon, and Chuck. Here's what sets him apart—and elevates him.

Still Waters, Same Depths: Nick’s damage is quieter. He’s not lashing out or chasing death, but he’s haunted, morally compromised, and walking a tightrope of identity (driver, soldier, rebel, lover).

He Sees June Fully: Like the others, he doesn’t ask June to shrink. He falls for her as she is, and he never stops believing in her strength, even when she terrifies him.

He Chooses Her Over Everything: His love isn’t performative—it’s sacrificial. He gives up power, security, and safety to stay near her. He doesn’t want to save her. He wants to stand beside her.

The Only One Who Matches Her Fury: June is rage. Luke is reason. Nick is that slow-burning core, the man who holds a gun with one hand and her heart in the other. No speeches. Just presence. Just action.

Nick is the culmination of the archetype because he is the only one who remains dangerous but becomes safe, not by changing who he is, but by choosing love over everything else.

Why These Women Chose the Hard Love

Because they’re not fragile. Because they don’t want to be adored from a pedestal—they want to be understood, fought for, and met in the mess. These men bring chaos—but also constancy in the most surprising ways.

Nick doesn’t rescue June. He doesn’t fix her. He chooses her. Again and again. And that makes him, as Logan once said of Veronica, epic.

[misc-obeyme]

Wait a minute, Barbatos listens to heavy metal? In which of the games is the sacred chat that included this juicy little fact mentioned? Is it a daily chat or is it obtainable from a card?

Affinity with heavy metal suits him very well, honestly.

I absolutely love when a character's personality is founded on a particular 'theme,' a specific range of generally interconnected interests, as well as a determined set of qualities—only for an unrelated/unexpected trait, quirk, hobby, talent or interest to sneak up and add a quaint pop of entertainment and relatability to their person.

Barbatos adores tea, likes cleaning, and tends to tiny demons, which are all things that give a sort of serene, domestic tinge to his figure. Yet, he indulges in the genre of heavy metal. And I think that that's such a satisfying, realistic shade to his personality palette because the truth is that one individual can hold so many differences within them, and some of those differences may at times be starkly opposing. And that is so intriguing.

Except in this case, I don't think Barbatos's appreciation for heavy metal is 'unrelated' to him per se or even a difference at all; in fact, it's woven with his being and who he is. Because of course, despite the calmness, fondness for tea, and intricate skills in making all sorts of sweet and savoury delicacies—aspects that craft an almost soft, meditative aura around him—he's also a thinker with a sense of wisdom and a badass who displays a multitude of talents while appreciating a musical genre famous for its loud intensity (which at first glance 'opposes' his general calm image and eloquent manner of speech).

So this is where I point out that this very 'difference' is perfect, since it's also a core similarity in and of itself; after all, Barbatos is intense and thoughtful, just like heavy metal itself (even though the genre has this unfair, unfortunate stereotype of being 'aggressive noise only'). What I mean to say is, this preference Barbatos has is merely an extension of his self and a representation of the parts of it that are not immediately apparent. It may seem startling at the beginning, but in my opinion, it makes so much sense that he would appreciate heavy metal.

He has lived for a very, very long time and that existence came with thousands upon thousands of experiences that shaped his mindset, temperament and wisdom, as well as gave him depth. I assume he found that heavy metal resonates with him in some ways. Perhaps it is not only admiration for the deep lyrics or relation to them, but also how the intense volume might help him vicariously express certain emotions.

In all honesty, it would be nice to see what young Barbatos was like. Now it's just rats that make him lose his marbles and go from 0 to 100 in the course of a millisecond. His anger is often pretty much covert otherwise. How interesting it would be to catch a glimpse of his wild days of youth—Barbatos being outwardly wrathful, spitting out what's on his mind without restraint, immediately resorting to violence, and even getting jealous because he's still young and hasn't yet attained the wisdom and maturity all that experience has to offer.

This is way longer than I intended it to be, but the subject piqued my interest, I love rock and admire the depth of thought in it and heavy metal, and overanalysing and overthinking are best friends of mine lol

The chat is from OG and I'm like... 99.999% sure that it's with the group The Fantastic Three. I remember Lucifer apologizing for Asmo who decided to perform some heavy metal at an event or something. And Barbatos was like, actually I like heavy metal. And Lucifer and Diavolo were both like ???

But for the life of me, I cannot find it. I thought it was a daily chat, but I can't find it. Maybe it's from a card? Does anyone know exactly which chat that is??

Anyway, I agree with everything you're saying. I very much headcanon that Barbatos has a lot of depth that we simply don't see. This because he hides it deliberately. I think he does this because he feels he has to have a certain demeanor, not just as Diavolo's butler and as a role model to him, but also because he feels he was too wild in his past. He wants to project that image of perfect calm and competence.

Despite all that, Barbatos is still a being with emotions and I really like the idea that heavy metal in particular speaks to him. Listening to it allows him to sit with some feelings that he normally represses. It helps him work through them instead of letting them fester.

I also think an indication of a well written character is when that character has unexpected traits. It's impossible to make a character as nuanced as a real person, but you can create the illusion of it by giving them depth. Barbatos feels like he has so much happening beneath the surface, so many pieces to him that we haven't discovered yet. It's one of the reasons I love him so much.

Who is he when he lets himself go? I have spent too much time thinking about that.

And how interesting it would be to see how he was when he was younger...

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

I Think Hypmic's Portrayal of Gender Roles is Kinda Refreshing: An Essay A.K.A. I'm Procrastinating on a Weekend Deadline :)

Hypmic's talking points on gender are hamfisted, corny, and melodramatic. "Maybe...we shouldn't have a wage gap," is not the hottest of takes. However, like most things in Hypmic, the writers have a lot more to say about gender and gender roles in the framing of the story itself that's much more nuanced. And honestly? It's kinda refreshing.

It's also something that went way over my head when I first became a Hypmic fan. Sure, I read manga and played Japanese video games--usually translated into English first--but I didn't have enough exposure to hundreds or thousands of pieces of untranslated Japanese media. I'm going to guess that most Hypmic fans don't either, which is totally fine and normal. We all exist within our respective cultural communities wherein we're bombarded with messages constantly telling us how to act, think, and speak. We tend to absorb these messages on subconscious levels and reflect them in the art we create and stories we tell, either by reinforcing them or challenging them. Thus, our stories don't exist in a vacuum, and divorcing stories from their cultural backgrounds can suggest the artist is the original thinker of a larger concept or hide their specific point of criticism. That is, if I wrote a story about a man who chooses to not catch fish, drink beer, and drive a Dodge Ram pick-up truck, we should be aware that I'm not the person who conceptualized the stereotype of dudes who catch fish, drink beer, and drive pick-ups. I wouldn't deserve the credit for dreaming up that exact image, and at the same time, it would be incorrect to read that as me targeting those three things randomly. The choice to not drive a Dodge Ram pick-up is not a commentary on Fiat Chrysler Automobiles. It's a stand-in for the notion of masculinity.

Thing is, we're hit with messages about masculinity, femininity, and other gender-related concepts on a daily basis. No matter where you live or what language you speak, every person on Earth is inundated with messages saying, "This is what you are, and consequently, this is how you should act." Our relation to these messages is complicated, and this complexity is compounded by different cultural communities preaching different messages in their stories, marketing, and human interactions. For instance, the US's massive global cultural influence means that those outside the US can still easily recognize what I mean by catching fish, drinking beer, and driving enormous American pick-up trucks. But the location and cultural differences may add or subtract nuances. A person living in, say, Munich is unlikely to have Dodge pick-ups advertised to them the way a person in rural Texas would. Our fictional Munich person does not feel the same social pressures to buy a Dodge and represent their masculinity with a Dodge the way our imaginary Texan would. In turn, the Munich person likely sees a Dodge with an element of absurdity--who the hell needs such a big truck in a European city?--and foreign Americanness. The Texan wouldn't have that concern--why worry about navigating your enormous truck down narrow streets when you live in the countryside?--and sees Americanness as their local default, thus removing any element of foreignness.

That is to say, gendered messages aimed at people (especially women) who live in Japan don't affect me the same way as they impact those who do live in Japan. Like, it's not my dog in the fight, and there are plenty of people who are directly affected who write their own stories and commentaries on gender roles in Japan. Japanese women don't need a random guy in the US to stand up and say, "Damn, your gender roles are fucked!" 1) They already know. 2) They're already saying it. So I come at this from an angle of someone who already has deep, primary frustration with the gendered messaging in my culture and secondary frustrations when similar messages appear in other cultures. I don't have a bone to pick with Japanese media in particular. Plain and simple, reading and working on hundreds of pieces of Japanese media is what I do for a living. It's in my face constantly, and as a result, I am also perpetually bombarded by messages about gender roles in Japanese media.

It's not a hot take to say that Japanese media, like the media of every single other culture around the globe, has a lot to say about gender. There's a lot of slotting people into boxes and telling people what to do. It's chafing, as we see all across history in art produced in reaction to gender roles. In the past couple of decades, global shifts in gender roles have caused media to shift the messages they're pushing, but it's not controversial to say that Japan has lagged behind other countries like the US.

Many, many stories push arbitrary notions of how to be a girl or how to be a boy that don't necessarily come from the author themselves. The authors probably aren't even fully conscious that they're making these choices. If an author writes a story about a library and makes every female character a romance fan and every male character an action fan, it's likely a reflection of endless messaging that says action is for boys, romance is for girls. In turn, this story becomes yet another reinforcing message. If no fictional girls like action, and no fictional boys like romance, it becomes alienating for real girls and boys who don't follow these same rules. These rules are everywhere and have so much to say about gender that it's hard to know where to begin. Girls must like cute things. Boys can't like sweet food. Women must not express sexual desire. Men can't be shy. On and on and on.

Which is why, when there's a relative lack of this in Hypmic, it's kind of a breath of fresh air.

Wrong Ways to Be a Man

Actually, Hypmic does have a few moments where characters claim there are certain things men or women should do, but the writing always frames these messages as incorrect.

Take Samatoki, for instance. After Kuukou and Sasara leave MCD, Samatoki tells Ichirou, "Men shouldn't cry when they lose their friends. Men should only cry when they lose a family member."

(TDD chapter 10)

This line usually appears via Ichirou's perspective. In the stage play, it's told during a song Ichirou narrates, and as shown above in panel 3, the manga frames the line from the angle at which Ichirou sees it. In such moments, the audience is meant to read this as a cool line from a strong mentor figure to Ichirou. That's how Ichirou sees it, and he's a seventeen-year-old with too much on his shoulders who idolizes Samatoki. He is incapable of seeing how much pain Samatoki struggles with.

However, when the manga focuses on more intimate moments of Samatoki's life, we see that Samatoki does struggle quite a lot.

(BB/MTC+ chapter 6)

This isn't a cool, attractive figure meant to be idolized. While Samatoki's cigarette usage and aggressiveness are often framed as sexy or enticing, the juxtaposition with dirty laundry, overflowing ashtrays, and empty bottles make him a sympathetic and struggling figure. Therefore, we should understand that his notion that men don't cry is flawed. It's a means to distract himself from emotions he doesn't want to feel.

Later, as Samatoki begins to process his emotions and open up to his teammates, the unhealthy coping mechanisms recede. Samatoki is more confident, mature, and happier as a result of being more emotionally vulnerable.

We see a similar transformation with Kuukou. As a teen, Kuukou is reluctant to accept help or truly let anyone in. In a conversation with Hitoya, he says (and I am still completely unable to take this seriously), "A man's got to wipe his own ass."

(DH/BAT chapter 4)

However, over the course of his character arc, Kuukou learns that he cannot exist as a good leader or individual without the teamwork of his newfound "family." Only rejecting this classical and toxic notion of masculinity brings Kuukou joy.

In fact, most of the first-line characters have very similar arcs. At the start of the story, Ichirou is insistent on doing everything himself. He has to learn to be able to rely on other people (Kuukou, Samatoki, Ichirou and Jirou) to be happier and unlock his true strength. See below, his final attack and Ability use in the 2nd DRB, which is only possible when his brothers figuratively and literally support him through it.

(BB/MTC+ chapter 25)

Sasara struggles with emotional honesty and trust in favor of using humor to gloss over discomfort. It takes multiple heart-to-hearts with Roshou before he can let humor take a backseat and say how he really feels. Ramuda has difficulty trusting other people and being honest with his emotions when faced with stressful scenarios. Only through Fling Posse is he able to open up and ask for help instead of driving people away when the problems are too big for him to face alone. Jakurai struggles to connect with other people, work through and acknowledge his complicated feelings, and not place himself on a pedestal. Through Matenrou, Jakurai is able to ask for help, be more open, and ultimately be less hard on himself.

The second- and third-line characters follow similar arcs, and this repetition creates a core message for Hypmic: Trust and rely other people. Be open with your feelings. There's a wrong way to be a man, and that's to hurt yourself and other people.

Right Ways to Be a Man...Are Infinite!

But with that being said, there is a surprising lack of commentary on how else to be a man. Hypmic as a whole doesn't do much to constrain the male characters in terms of gender roles.

Sure, some characters do fit into more traditionally masculine roles--Ichirou, Samatoki, Riou, etc. The messaging makes it clear that it isn't wrong to play into masculinity provided it doesn't become toxic. (See above.)

Even then, however, these especially masculine characters are associated with less masculine traits that are either portrayed positively or not portrayed as a joke. Riou is an avid cook, but the joke is never that he wears an apron and knows his way around an outdoor kitchen (tee-hee, men don't cook!). It's that he cooks with horrifying ingredients. Samatoki is a fashionista, but the joke is framed as a counterpart to Ichirou's nerdiness.

(DoD chapter 1)

Here, it's funny that neither of them can shut up (the ペラペラ/blah blah SFX, the long bubbles filled with lots of text that's cut to indicate they kept going for longer), but the object of their attention--a model toy and a pair of jeans--are treated in the same neutral light. It's very common for stories to touch on, even defensively, the social taboo of men being into clothes. Hypmic doesn't even acknowledge that such a taboo could exist.

This is subtle but extraordinarily effective in giving characters the same consideration and weight. The more feminine characters are always treated just as sincerely (or, if there's a joke to be made, irreverently) as the more masculine characters. Take Ramuda, for instance. In Japanese media, a love of sweets is often characterized as feminine and will often be remarked upon, even in LGBT+ media, as atypical for men. Again, there's zero acknowledgement of such a thing in Hypmic. Whenever other characters talk about Ramuda's food intake, it's always framed as a concern about the lack of nutrition.

(FP/M chapter 11... I don't have the source lying around on my computer, so here's the old-ass scanlation lol)

It's also given the exact same weight as anyone else's junk food habits. Here, MCD goes out for burgers (a neutral to masculine-coded food due to the meat and high calorie count) while Ramuda opts to try a sugary Starbucks-esque drink. The parallelism in the comic's framing suggests that the two objects are functionally the same, and there is no comment that a sugary drink is feminine and therefore "inappropriate" for Ramuda. There's also no indication that MCD's preferences are in any way better. They simply happen to be the characters' personal preferences. The punchline is two groups splitting up, only to awkwardly run into each other again moments later.

(DoD volume 4 bonus comic)

Similarly, Ramuda's interest in clothes or fashion is never treated negatively--in fact, the discussions of clothes as a means to find identity and happiness make it a positive!

In ARB cards and promotional materials, Ramuda sometimes wears dresses. It's, again, portrayed in parallel to other characters wearing more masculine clothes and is never commented on as something "unusual." It's just who Ramuda is.

Hifumi is another interesting case. Like Ramuda, his playful personality often doesn't as stereotypically masculine. (To be clear, I read much of this as "gender neutral with a strong emphasis on youth" versus "feminine" in a way that I'm not sure has a good US equivalent...metrosexual/yuppie men's fashion, maybe? In the sense that it's a youth subculture that defies some masculine gender roles but is still focused mainly on men. I wish I was more well-versed in Japanese men's fashion and could give an exact term, but I'm what I'm thinking of is definitely an established thing--young, trendy dudes whose styles focus on poppiness vs. the rugged manly man or "idk, I'm just some guy" subcultures. It's a thing that pisses off old Japanese conservative men in the same fashion as people getting up in arms about "the gayz!!!1!" and their androgynous clothing lol.) Their personalities are often the butt of jokes, but only in the same way that Dice or Doppo are--that is, that they're exaggerated and over the top. There's no commentary on masculinity or lack thereof.

There are also moments when Hifumi, Gentarou, or other characters play feminine characters in roleplay moments, which is usually (but not always) not the sole joke. The audience is supposed to find it funny, but the humor is almost always centered on the absurdity of the scene as a whole. For instance, in a moment where Hifumi and Doppo are pretending to be two drunk karaoke-goers, the humor comes from the composite set-up of Hifumi's hair twirl, Doppo's untucked shirt and tie, Doppo and Hifumi's exaggeratedly flirtatious poses, the spotlights and sparkles, and the same font as used on classic karaoke machines.

(FP/M+ September 2022 oneshot)

Hifumi and Doppo do not perform traditional gender roles in their homelife, and while it's easy to see and often commented on in the English-speaking fanbase when it comes to Hifumi, I find it just as prevalent on Doppo. It's true that Hifumi is taking a feminine role by doing the majority of the household's cooking and cleaning, but if we were to assume Doppo has the masculine role in the household, he would have the breadwinner duty. However, he isn't the main source of income for their household, and he's just as unassertive in finding a (female) romantic partner as Hifumi is. Japanese men are bombarded with media messages stressing the importance of taking an active role in career and romance. That Doppo does not would, in many stories, make him the butt of a joke for not living up to masculine gender roles. But he isn't; instead, Hypmic portrays him as a sympathetic character. It's tough, Hypmic says, for people to get good jobs and maintain friendships/relationships as an adult.

Similarly, it's noteworthy that Hifumi's self-appointed term "Gigolo" is consistently portrayed as a good thing in Hypmic. The meaning of the English term aside, the Japanese word ジゴロ (jigoro) is almost always used as an insult for a man who is financially dependent on one or multiple women. In the strictest sense of the term, Hifumi is a jigoro in that his income derives from his female clients. However, there is never any shame associated with that, and as a whole, Hifumi's career as a host is shown to be a positive thing. I can't express enough how rare that is in any sort of semi-serious media. Certainly, Hypmic acknowledges that his job requires too much drinking (Doppo's verse in Hoodstar), but the overall portrayal is overwhelmingly positive. Hifumi and his coworkers are never treated as uneducated, boorish, or pathetic for "failing" to find other work that does not require flirting with and entertaining women. (This is partially due to the overlapping judgment with sex work.)

All the various harmless preferences and personality traits of the male characters are treated equally with no judgement over what's masculine or non-masculine. Within the broader context of Japanese media, this absence of judgment stands out and reinforces one of Hypmic's core themes: Differences make us better, not worse. In the end, Hypmic suggests, there's no one right way to be a man.

Right Ways to Be a Woman...Are Just as Infinite!

But what about women? This series is, after all, marketed mainly towards women, and while female audience members can no doubt extrapolate the lessons learned from the male characters, it's worth taking a look at the female characters too.

The female characters do receive much less screen time than the men and are not the focus in the series; I'd argue that's less an issue of overt sexism and more that they fall out of focus in the story the writers want to tell. (There's a broader discussion to be had about inherent sexism in the writers' focus which goes hand-in-hand with rap industries across the globe favoring men and rap being an example of exaggerated masculinity, but that's a topic for another day.)

Even so, the framing of the female characters is interesting in a couple key respects. The individual character arcs and motivations of the main female characters are, in my opinion, some of the weakest parts of Hypmic--many times, Otome and Ichijiku do things because the plot demands them to, making them look incompetent or needlessly cruel for characters we're supposed to sympathize with. Nemu's story seems to be handled with more care and takes an interesting twist, wherein she openly acknowledges that she's disenfranchised as a woman in modern Japan but rejects the notion that she needs to find strength on either Ichirou or Samatoki's (male) terms. By choosing to be strong in "her own way" (whatever that means...it's not well-defined), the authors are using Nemu to reject the notion that strength and power are inherently masculine.

What I find to be far more interesting is the character design for the Chuuouku women, both in what is said and what is not said.

To begin with, the characters and their portrayals run the gambit from highly sexualized to completely non-sexual. Some characters (especially Ichijku and Honobono) have conventionally attractive, curvy body types and are often drawn in ways that highlight their bodies.

(FP/M+ chapter 4)

(FP/M+ chapter 14)

In some cases, especially Honobono's, the enticing nature of the illustrations is framed as the character's choice; in the above, her words indicate that she wants to seduce the off-screen listeners. The images included above are largely representative of these characters' raps, regardless of illustrator.

But on the flip side, other characters with large breasts or hips are never drawn in a sexual fashion. By way of comparison, here are two shots of Nemu rapping.

(BB/MTC+ chapter 12)

Even in shots with dynamic poses, no attention is drawn to Nemu's figure in any sort of provocative sense. Nemu touches her chest, drawing the reader's eye there, but the artist does not emphasize the size of her chest--they're allowing a chest touch to be no more than an emphasis of the self. At the same time, Nemu's body isn't downplayed. We can see in panel 2 on page 2 that Nemu has a small waist and wider hips, but once again, she isn't being sexualized. The action lines draw the reader's eye to Samatoki and thus put the action first and foremost. This creates the idea that not only can characters portray themselves sexually, but they can just as easily choose not to.

We see similar with Otome, who does not wear any sort of revealing clothing and is never shown in a sexual fashion. However, Hypmic doesn't equate revealing clothing to sexual portrayals either! While I wouldn't call Tsumabira's outfit revealing, she does have more visible cleavage than most Chuuouku figures. However, her bare chest is never sexualized like Ichijiku's.

(BB/MTC+ chapter 4)

Compare the non-emphasis on the chest and the power stance to any of the many shots of Ichijuku where her breasts are front and center in the camera. Speaking of power stance, Tsumabira remains confident in her power stance without being sexy--that is, no stepping on the camera and showing her whole leg.

Which isn't to say that Tsumabira is a sexless character. She's drawn visibly turned on by the male characters in such a way that is cartoonish but not, in turn, overly sexual. Were this supposed to be titillating to the reader, I would have expected to see a larger close-up on her face and tongue. However, the artist (who is no stranger to focusing on tongues!) devotes the majority of the panel to Tsumabira's body language (which, again, doesn't absurdly exaggerate any of her proportions or focus on her chest) and covers part of the mouth with text bubbles. Tsumabira is drawn as engaging in sexual behavior without being sexualized for reader entertainment.

(FP/M+ chapter 4)

The juxtaposition of such different views with little to no judgement attached to any of them suggests that it's perfectly okay to want to be sexy or not, to wear revealing clothing or not, to be involved in sexual situations without being the object of sexual interest, or to simply exist with an attractive body type without sex ever coming into the equation. Just as some characters choose to tie bodies to sexiness, some don't whatsoever--and either is perfectly fine!

The former idea ("I can choose to be sexy") may not sound especially revolutionary to US audiences, where sexuality is thrust upon women willingly or otherwise, but I find it fascinating because it lets the main characters embrace this idea without associated slut shaming. So much of Japanese media insists that women should be sexy but are also wrong for wanting to indulge in their own sexuality. Therefore, having characters who run virtually every iteration of take on the topic (I want to engage in sexuality and be sexualized, I want to engage in sexuality without being sexualized, I don't want to engage in either) with multiple body types (ie, Tsumabira isn't automatically not sexualized because she has a smaller chest; Nemu isn't automatically sexualized because she has a bigger chest) and no judgement involved feels like another breath of fresh air to me.

As a whole, I find the diversity of the Chuuouku uniforms and character appearances quite interesting. They're undeniably all feminine and relatively militaristic, but different characters wear entirely different wardrobes. Skirts vs pants, blouses vs dresses, high heels vs boots... Since every character has her own take on the common theme, it once again feeds into the idea that each character is her own individual and perfectly valid for defining femininity in her own way.

Haircuts, too, range from longer and more feminine hairstyles to pixie cut-esque looks.

(BB/MTC+ chapter 16)

Again, nothing of the framing suggests this short-haired woman is in any way different from her longer-haired counterparts on the edges of this screenshot.

Finally, while most Chuuouku women are conventionally attractive, I find it extremely compelling that Haebaru is a stereotype of an unattractive Japanese woman. To be extremely clear, I do not think these stereotypes should have weight, but the combination of chubby and/or muscular build, freckles, rounded nose, and non-glossy hair is often used as a visual shorthand for unattractive or otherwise undesirable women.

Sure, it's not fantastic that Haebaru is a scheming, two-bit villain. However, so is virtually every other female character in the series, and in particular, Haebaru is (the conventionally attractive) Tsumabira's counterpart. Both are treated with the same respect or lack thereof, suggesting that one's appearance has nothing to do with your ability to be a no-good baddie. Ha ha ha.

It would be lovely if the female characters were fleshed out further and given intelligent choices and diversity outside of the realms of physical appearance. However, I do think the writers' choices are limited by virtue of all women automatically being antagonistic side characters (which, again, is another discussion altogether). What the writers can and have accomplished is further reinforcing a celebration of differences. Just as there's no one right way to be a man, there's an infinite number of ways to be a scheming snake of a woman HAHA.

Intersection with LGBT+ Topics

Unfortunately, this is a very binary look at gender and gender roles, which, while largely representative of the current state of Japanese media, can be disappointing.

Hypmic appears to want to steer shy of LGBT+ topics as a whole, which is a bit of a shame. In a story so focused on gender and acceptance of diversity, it seems the natural next step to explore the notion of those who experiences don't align with a strict gender binary. Such stories are growing in popularity in Japanese media but have yet to be anywhere near the mainstream acceptance in US media (which is still in a fledgling stage at best). I would imagine Hypmic's writers are unable or unwilling to take a definite stance on these topics in the work due to fears of financial or career backlash. If nothing else, the sexuality of the main characters needs to remain in a limbo in order to have plausible deniability for both self-shipping and shipping with other characters. (Some deniability may be more plausible than others.)

The few instances in which Hypmic does wander into this territory are usually clumsy. I am no fan of the handful of scenes where male/male attraction is supposed to be funny purely by virtue of being male/male.

The inclusion of Urumi, the one minor character explicitly LGBT+, is not stellar either. I am hesitant to apply any definite label to her, as the real-life people her stereotype portrays self-identify as everything from trans women to cis men--or refuse to use these English labels at all! Still, we know from her profession (proprietor of a bar heavily implied to be a gay bar by the neighborhood it's in), appearance (poofy permed hair, exaggerated make-up), and demeanor (feminine speech style, a bit flirtatious) that she's AMAB and choosing to present herself in a feminine fashion. By writing Jirou to ask, "Aren't you a man?" in an exasperated fashion, the writers have put her gender presentation in a boke role--suggesting she's over-the-top, exaggerated, comedic. It's not great. I completely understand why readers find it offensive (and it is) even while I don't think the writers intended it that way. Ultimately, it would have been great to see other explicitly LGBT+ characters portrayed without the joking angle.

With that said, I'm not entirely unhappy with her character. She is a stereotype, but the authors have chosen to take only the visual elements of the stereotype and leave the rest on the cutting room floor. In other works of fiction, characters like Urumi are often hypersexual to the point of being in-universe creepy, especially towards underage boys. Other times, characters like her may be eccentric or off-putting in other ways. However, that's not at all the case here. Urumi seems to play a helpful big sister/aunt role in Jirou's life, and he's clearly comfortable enough with her to spend the night at her bar.

(BB/MTC+ chapter 17. "Sorry, but can I shack up here again tonight?" "Of course you can.")

While she seems to engage in some sort of a bohemian lifestyle, as evidenced by the alcohol and smoking, it isn't anything outside of what many of the other characters do. Additionally, while she isn't drawn in a flattering fashion in scenes where she's playing up her persona (which is par for the course with any character in this series, regardless of gender), there are plenty of neutral shots of her being serious. Finally, the art is never outright rude--that is, she isn't drawn exaggeratedly masculine or flamboyantly...snakey? I don't know how to describe this to anyone who's lucky enough to have never seen this--clearly LGBT+ AMAB characters drawn with noodly limbs and huge, overblown lips winding around male characters.

Maybe because I see so much worse continuing to be produced in this day and age, I feel like Hypmic could have done a much, much worse job with this character. She overall plays a positive role and is treated with much the same care as other side characters. It's unfortunate, then, that the writers have chosen to make her gender presentation the subject of a joke.

In other frustrations, I heavily dislike the unnecessary gender divide in background characters. All punks and other background baddies are male, whereas all adoring fans are female. (But Rhyme Anima has done an interesting job of subverting this!) The vast majority of other background figures fall into strict gender roles, which is likewise disappointing. It appears that diversity may be an accepted trait for none but a lucky few that form the main Hypmic cast.

All in all, I don't think Hypmic's portrayal of gender roles is groundbreaking, nor do I think it's fair to suggest that all Japanese pop culture plays into strict gender roles. There are certainly many Japanese works, popular or otherwise, with much more interesting things to say about gender. However, when compared to the vast majority of the titles that cross my desk on a regular basis, I notice and appreciate the level of care put in to Hypmic's commentary on gender roles. The work consistently reinforces the notion that it's okay to be your own individual, no matter how that plays into your gender, and I find that freeing. That's a message we could all do to hear more often, regardless of culture and language.

TL;DR: Oh no, my rapidly approaching deadline. :)