#they do different set ups sometimes. but always some messy shit

[arsenicflame]

teacher student edizzy au but theyre literally already married, its just Izzy as a history teacher or something and Ed as a forever student (they can afford this because of a youth of crime & family discounts) studying something different every few years. he never pursues something all the way to PHD, just has a ton of different degrees. but every time they have some freak psychosexual teacher/student roleplay about it. like, Ed's studying for a chemistry degree, why is he taking a history class? (to fuck the professor)

[hausofwoo]

graphic | mark lee

pairing: mark lee x afab reader

word count: 6.6K

summary: stuck in the monotony of your job at the mall, every day feels the same: opening the store, sitting behind the register, and counting the hours til close. you've even memorized the routines of the stores around you. but when a new guy starts at the comic book store across the way, you realize your predictable days may soon change.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, comic book store employee!mark, retail employee!reader, really cute and fluffy until it's not, public sex (public space but no one is there), unprotected piv (DONT DO THIS), mark throws u around like a lil play thing, oral (fem recieving), fingering, use of a petname (baby), lmk if i forgot anything!

author's note: this one took forever yall i know its been a while! been going thru some shit irl but things are settling and i was deadset on finishing this bc it's so cute :'-) thank u to T and @hausofmingi for being my beta readers ( ˘ ³˘)♡

working at a mall can be really tiring, but it’s not so bad when you have a crush.

you’ve been working at a retail store at your local mall for a few months now. it’s boring, there’s too many people on the weekends, and you have the worst hours. you found yourself working open to close for far too many shifts. but at the end of the day, at least it keeps the bills paid.

on slow days during the week, you’re always sat at the register, scrolling through your phone or twiddling your thumbs, counting down the seconds til closing time. sometimes you would even stare off into space, watching people pass by all day long.

you went to work always knowing exactly how the day would go; set up shop, maybe help some customers, and do fucking nothing for 8 to 10 hours. maybe a wave to the employees at the stores surrounding you, but sadly, that was usually the most interesting part of your day. you became accustomed to the monotony though, watching the same employees open up their shops next to yours.

the store directly across from yours is a comic book store. you know the few people that worked there, usually just saying “good morning” and going on with your day. you swear, you have this store memorized, knowing when the employees take their breaks, who’s working, what they’re working on that day. you didn’t really mean to, but when all you have to do is daydream, you kinda picked up on the routine there.

so when you arrive in the morning for yet another brutal open-to-close shift, you expect to just roll up the security shutters and sit back at the register all day. but there’s something different today; or rather, someone different.

sitting at the register at the comic book store is a man you’ve never seen before. his hair is perfectly messy and his glasses framed his eyes, which are focused on reading a comic. he’s working all by himself, which is surprising to you since you’re certain he’s new. you catch yourself staring and try to brush it off. he’s a new guy, so what?

you try your best to go about your day as normal, but you can’t help stealing glances over at the man at the store across from you. he has a captivating energy, and it makes you want to know more about him. he seems charismatic, being friendly with customers and earning smiles, then resuming his doodling once they leave. you notice that when he looks really focused, he bites the corner of his lip gently.

you gotta stop staring, or he will definitely notice. you decide to actually work on something for once, organizing the stock and straightening the shelves. soon enough, closing time creeps up on you. you do all of your closing duties and grab your things from the back. you close the security shutters, looking behind you quickly to see that the man is doing the same. he notices your gaze, so you kindly wave at him. instead of a wave back, blush forms on his face with a shy smile. and with that, he walks away.

the interaction was unreadable. he seemed to be so extroverted with customers, having no issue having casual conversations with them. why is he getting all shy now?

you started to pick up on the new routine at the comic book store. from what you could tell, the man worked similar hours to you, often opening and closing too. he rarely worked with anyone else, so the majority of the time you glanced over, he was reading comics, manga, or doodling in his notepad.

you never really got into comic books like that, and only dabbled with reading manga, but the growing interest in this man made you curious about learning more on what he was reading. maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check out the selection? perhaps get some recommendations? you just finished a short shift today so now was the perfect opportunity.

after grabbing your things and saying goodbye to your coworker, you make your way over to the comic book store. you approach the man, who’s sitting at the register as usual, reading. you see his name tag on his chest; a cute red pin with a spider-man drawing next to his name, “mark.”

“hi,” you say, pulling his attention away from reading.

“oh, hi,” he says, placing his comic down. “sorry, i didn’t see you come in.”

“it’s okay,” you reply, looking around at the goodies at the register. “i was wondering if you have any recommendations for a beginner at reading comics?”

“oh for sure,” he says, eyes lighting up. “marvel has tons of great ones. you could start with an ironman one, or maybe captain america? i personally like spider-man, but i’m definitely biased.”

“i’ll try spider-man,” you say after a beat.

mark gives you a nod with a warm smile before leaving the register to grab your comic. he searches through the spider-man section until he finds the first issue. he returns to the register, ringing you up.

“i think you’ll like it, it’s really good,” mark says, handing your receipt to you.

“i’m definitely looking forward to see what all the hype is about,” you chuckle. the conversation pauses for moment, clearly indicating that the interaction is pretty much over with. but you don’t want the conversation to end there, so you find something to keep talking about. “you’re new here, aren’t you? like you just started working here?”

“yeah, sort of,” he says, sitting back in his seat at the register. “i used to work here a while ago and i just came back ‘cause they needed someone.”

“oh nice,” you reply. “welcome back i guess?”

“haha, i guess,” he smiles, rubbing his hand on his neck. “it’s chill here, but it gets kinda boring.”

“tell me about it,” you chuckle. “it’s so slow during the week. i usually have nothing to do.”

“yeah, i just read or draw to pass the time,” mark says, pointing at his notepad on the counter.

“you like to draw?” you ask, curious.

“yeah,” he places a hand on the notepad, grabbing it. you can tell he’s getting shy again. “it’s just doodles.”

“you’ll have to show me some of those ‘doodles’ sometime,” you say with a sweet smile. you check your phone for the time. it’s getting closer to dinnertime and you’re starved. “i guess i’ll get out of here.”

“okay,” he stands again. “well, let me know what you think of the comic.”

“i will,” you say, turning to leave, then flipping back to look at him. “mark, right?”

he nods, asking for your name as well. he beams at you. “it’s nice to meet you. see you tomorrow?”

“see you tomorrow,” you say with a wave, walking out.

for the next week, you find yourself aching to talk to mark again. you read the comic he gave you, and it provided a little bit of insight into him… that he’s a bit of a nerd. definitely not a bad thing. it’s actually really endearing to you, knowing his life basically revolves around superheroes, free time and work alike. that he probably draws little comics in his notepad, and has sweet dreams about being superhuman. why is that so fucking cute?

you have a reason to talk to him again, of course: the next issue of spider-man. the problem is building up the courage again, which is ridiculous because he’s just a guy. a nerdy one at that, and you know that he would be putty in your hands if you really wanted him to be. but the longing you developed for him during those long hours of your shift, seeing him across the way, looking so cute in his round glasses… it’s making you nervous in a way that is difficult to explain.

you’ve been putting off going back to his store at this point. wouldn’t someone that wanted to get into superhero comics come back for the next edition? why aren’t you using your excuse to talk to him? not only that, but he even said he wanted you to come tell him what you thought of the comic. you’re just overthinking things.

you have another short shift one day, and decide today is the day. you gather your things and walk to the neighboring store, feeling the familiar butterflies you felt the first time you approached mark at the register. he’s drawing this time, crouched down and focused. he hears you walk in, lifting his head to meet your eyes. maybe you’re crazy, but it looks like his eyes light up.

“hey,” he says, closing the notepad in front of him. you present the spider-man comic to him, and he flashes a smile at you. “what’d you think?”

you chuckle, holding the comic close to your chest. “it was good, but too short. there’s another issue, right?” you joke, hoping it lands.

he lets out a giggle, “yeah, there definitely is. i’ll grab the next one for you.”

he walks over to a section near the front of the store, flipping through the excess of papers before he finds the 2nd issue. “if you liked that one, you’ll like this one even more.” he returns to the register with the issue, placing it on the counter for you.

“duel to the death with the vulture?” you read from the page. “i haven’t seen any of the movies recently so correct me if i’m wrong, but i don’t remember there being a vulture.”

“oh yeah, he’s in one of the later movies actually,” mark starts. “but you got a long way to go til you finally meet one of the iconic villians like the green goblin, or even the love interests gwen stacy or mary jane. it’ll be so worth the wait though.”

“how much do i owe you?” you ask, already pulling out your wallet.

“you can borrow it if you want,” he says.

“but this one belongs to the store, won’t you get in trouble?” you ask.

“just bring it back and it’s like it never happened,” he whispers, faking a shhh at you. “let’s just say it’s mall employee perk.”

you smile and accept it.

your new routine feels like a nice change of pace. every second of every day used to drag by, and yet at the same time, when you got home, everything that happened was so unbelievably boring that it all felt like a blur. nothing really significant happened to you. but something about trying something new, learning about a brand new niche interest, and even developing a crush… it’s finally something exciting.

you looked forward to the next time you got a new issue. not just that, but the next time you got to talk to mark. he has this charm about him that piqued your interest. it feels so easy to talk to him, as if you’ve already known each other for a long time and it isn’t just a budding friendship. you’d find yourself stopping by the comic book store a few times a week, anticipating the next comic and the underlying tension between you and mark.

like today, when you finally got off of work after a long shift. you were able to close up shop quickly and now you’re walking over to the comic book store, attempting to run in before mark locked up.

“hey, is it cool if i get the next issue real quick?” you ask, popping your head in the store.

“yeah, one sec,” he says, looking up from counting the cash in the register. “lemme just finish closing up the register.”

“are you implying that you’re gonna let me borrow another comic?” you ask, a flirty tone floating beneath.

“well of course,” he says, swiftly closing the cash drawer. “unless you want to start collecting, which by the way, SUPER expensive.”

“i think i’ll stick to being a casual reader for now,” you joke, approaching mark at the register.

“i don’t know, you might change your mind after this one,” he says, grabbing a comic from his bag. he holds it out to you, you grabbing it with your fingers briefly brushing past his. the motion makes you feel a little dizzy, and you can feel heat rising to your cheeks.

you shake your head, realizing this one doesn’t belong to the store. “wait, is this your own personal comic?”

“yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” he says, half focusing as he’s writing something on a sticky note at the counter. “i brought it in so you can borrow it.” you can see the corner of his mouth turning up, as if he’s trying to hold back a smile.

“you didn’t have to do that—”

“i wanted to,” he says, lifting his head up to hand you the sticky note he was writing on. “just treat it with care.”

you take the note, which is pale blue with a cartoon spider-man in the corner. in the middle of the note is a scrawled out phone number. you look up to see mark rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“if you want to tell me what you think?” he says, almost like a question.

“or maybe when i get bored during my shift?” you ask, chuckling.

“i’d like that a lot actually,” he smiles, his previous nervousness quickly washing away.

“you’ll regret it though,” you say, sticking the note on the front page of the comic. “because i get bored here a lot.”

“don’t worry,” mark laughs, shaking his head. “i don’t think i’ll get sick of you anytime soon.”

you finally reached issue #14 of spider-man, the one mark is lending to you. you grab it out of your bag at the beginning of your shift, sitting back in your chair behind the register and getting comfortable. you realize what it’s about and immediately text mark.

sent 10:17 am omg wait i didn’t realize this issue is the first appearance of the green goblin

you look across the way, seeing mark pick up his phone and smiling.

sent 10:18 am mark: oh yeah, he’s fuckin sick mark: you’re gonna love it

you click your phone off with a soft sigh, flipping back to your comic. you go about your shift switching from helping customers and checking them out, and reading. every once and a while, you’ll message mark with your comments and he would always reply with enthusiasm.

the end of your shift approaches quickly, and soon enough you’re closing the security shutters. you look behind you to see mark locking the doors and then doing the same. he must’ve felt your eyes on him, because he turns and flashes his famous smile to you. you walk over to him with the comic in hand.

“you were right,” you say, handing it him. “green goblin is super sick.”

“i told you,” he says, reaching for it, and your hands momentarily touching like last time. he gets flustered. “uh, i can give you the next one tomorrow if you’re working.”

“i am, yeah,” you reply, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “i am so curious though—when the hell does gwen stacy show up?”

“oh,” he giggles to himself. “you’re like, halfway there to finally seeing her.”

“i didn’t realize how extensive this series is,” you chuckle. “not that i’m complaining. i’m actually surprised by how much i like it.”

“i’m glad,” he says sweetly. “well, just come by tomorrow and i’ll give you the next issue.”

“i will.”

the following weeks, you became overtaken by superhero comics and stupid-fucking-adorable mark. you would read an issue of spider-man at work, and text mark with your reactions to certain scenes. at first you thought it might be annoying to him, but he actually seemed to encourage it, asking for your opinions on the characters and storyline.

it doesn’t help that every time you see mark, you get butterflies in your stomach. and it seemed to only be getting worse; you keep finding yourself smiling when his name pops up on your phone. you wake up excited to go to work, because you know you’ll probably have another interaction with him. sometimes, mark would even catch you staring at him and give a little nod with a smile. but what made things exponentially worse was when you catch him gazing at you too, catching you off guard but making a smile spread across your lips. you are smitten, and if anyone else was concerned, mark is probably smitten too. the issue is getting him to finally take the hint and making a real move on you.

he may get a little flustered around you, but he’s not exactly shy. after all, he did give you his number unprompted. but after weeks of going back and forth strictly talking about comics and work, you started to lose hope. you just want him. he must want you back just as bad.

after another closing shift, you watch the mall-goers pass by and file out of the building. the mall is basically empty now, most of the neighboring stores already closed and employees leaving for the day. you had to stay a little bit late, cleaning up a huge mess in the store from some rude customers. you thought you would have time to stop by to see mark, but with the amount of things you have to put away, your chances are looking slim.

you shuffle around the store, placing items back on the shelves and organizing the tables of merchandise. you eyes shift over to the comic book store, expecting to see it dark and locked up. but it isn’t; mark is still in there, half the lights still on, with him unboxing comics from their latest shipment. you already knew it was restock day for them (god you have way too much free time), but you didn’t realize how many boxes they got in.

you open the front door of your store, whisper-yelling through the security shutters. “mark!”

mark’s head turns to look at you and flashes a grin at you. “yo, you’re still here too?”

you nod, leaning on the glass door. you hold up a few of the displaced items in your hands. “go-backs,” you shrug.

he points at the pile of boxes in front of him, “restock. we got a lot of shit in early for christmas.”

“don’t say christmas please, i don’t want to think about it yet,” you say with a laugh.

you turn away to get back to work, putting all the merchandise back to their assigned spots. you don’t know what the hell got into people today; messing up all your organization you’ve done and putting things in all the wrong places. it didn’t help that you had to deal with some assholes with returns today too. you always theorize it’s from a full moon or mercury retrograde or something; those things must be the reason people start acting up.

after about an hour of cleaning, you finish up and can finally call it a day. you close up shop and turn to see mark still working on stocking at his store. you approach the security gate of the store, with its front door still propped open.

“i still need my next issue by the way,” you say to mark, who stands from his crouching position in front of an open box. he walks up to the gate and pushes it up, just enough for you to come through. you look hesitant.

“come in, it’s okay,” he says, motioning you in. you duck under the security gate, slipping into the store. “how was your day? looks like you had a lot to do.”

“yeah, the store was a mess,” you say, following him to the register. “i’ve never had to stay so late after close.”

“it’s only gonna get worse the closer it gets to christmas,” mark says while weaving around the boxes with you.

“what did i say about christmas?” you joke, nudging his shoulder softly.

“sorry, sorry,” he laugh, putting his hands up. you wait patiently for him as he kneels behind the register, looking for your comic. he pops back up with a stumped look on his face. “i swear i thought i put it up here to give to you but i can’t find it. i’m gonna go check the back.”

he starts walking to the back room, and looks back at you. “feel free to sit if you want. our stockroom is a wreck, this might take a sec.”

you nod to him, squeezing past the tower of boxes to sit in the chair at the register. it feels kinda funny to sit back here, like you’re seeing the store from a different perspective, from mark’s perspective. you look around behind the counter, seeing the little notes and cute super-hero knick knacks gathered around.

there’s a mini batman funko pop positioned in the corner, with a sticky note placed under his feet reading “no drinks at the register.” you look over to see a large iced coffee with mark’s name in sharpie. well, we all bend the rules a bit. his name tag is placed on the counter by a stack of comics. you grab it to take a closer look. it’s a plastic red pin with a white pop-art bubble. in the corner is a small piece of paper stuck on it, attached with office tape. on the paper is a spider-man doodle, made with red and blue marker and pen ink.

you’re sure this must’ve been drawn by mark. you have yet to see any of his drawings (despite your prying), so maybe seeing this one up close will give you a sneak peek into his style. it’s a little messy, with scratchy lines and colors bleeding outside the borders. despite that, it has a distinct style that you’re fond of. it’s not perfect, let alone does it look like the super-heroes you’ve been reading in your comics. but it has a quality to it that feels less polished and flat. it has character. the messiness makes it feel more… real.

you set his name tag down, placing it back next to the large stack of comics. these must be his go-backs. he’s been so wrapped up with his shipment he probably hasn’t had time to put them away. you think maybe it would be nice to help a bit. he’s been nice enough to let you borrow comics from the store, and you’re just waiting around after all.

you pick up the stack of comics, situating them into your arms, when you look down and see that under the stack is mark’s notepad. it’s not closed like you’re used to seeing it, opened to a clean white page with a drawing covering up a majority of it. it’s in a comic book style, you’re not surprised. but it has the same quality that his name tag doodle does; scrawly and messy, with no real precise lines. the colors are splashed across the page, with blotches of scribbled colored marker decorating it. then realize what it is—who it is.

it’s you.

the whole image captures you and a little bit of your surroundings. positioned at your normal spot at the register, you’re looking down at a comic with your fingers playing with the ends of your hair. but it has a dream-like feel to it, with the pages of the comic illuminating your face as if a source of power is emanating from it. and then the best part: the wings. placed behind your shoulders are pair of feathered wings, outstretched in a sketched black ink. it’s beautiful.

it’s beautiful and it’s you. mark drew you.

“yo, sorry that took so long,” mark says while emerging from the back, eyes still focused on the comic in his hands. “i finally found it, but dude i had to do some digging—”

mark’s words are cut short when he notices you holding his notepad, comics that were placed atop abandoned on the counter by you. he visibly gulps.

“mark…” you start, not moving your eyes from the drawing. “what’s this?” without a response for a few moments, you tear your eyes away to see mark with blush on his cheeks, mouth open but unable to let any words out. “did you… did you draw me?”

“look, it gets really slow during the day, i just did a little sketch to pass time—”

“mark, this isn’t just a sketch,” you say, looking back down at the notepad. “this is amazing.”

“y-you like it?” mark says, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“of course i like it,” you say.

“you don’t think it’s weird that i drew you without telling you?” mark asks, nervousness radiating from him.

“i don’t think it’s weird at all,” you say. “i actually love it. i like that you drew me as a superhero too, and one with wings at that.”

mark stays quiet, looking at his feet and probably overthinking everything right now. you look back up at him, tension building in your stomach as you ask what you already know the answer to. “you like me, don’t you?”

mark lifts his head to meet your eyes. he bites his lip anxiously as he nods slowly.

a streak of courage overtakes you as you grab his arm to pull him closer, him tripping over his own feet and crashing into your chest. you’re leaned against the counter, with mark’s arm behind you and hand placed flat on the surface. your faces are close, and you can feel his breath. his eyes are glued onto your lips, and he swallows thickly.

“mark, just kiss me,” you mumble, aching for him.

he wastes no time, leaning in to slot his lips between yours. he snakes an arm around your waist, holding you as close as he can. you melt into him, goosebumps floating across your skin in all-consuming desire. you move your hand to hold his cheek, thumb swiping on his smooth skin and fingers tangled in his soft, messy hair.

he pulls away, breath still shaky. “i’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long…” he trails off before leaning in and kissing you again, this time with more passion. he swipes his tongue between your lips, with you willingly accepting him. his hands trail up and down your sides, then finally places a firm grip on your waist and lifting you to sit on the counter. he slots between your legs, his body pressed close to yours. your fingers card through his hair, earning a sweet hum from him.

his hands trail down to your ass, pushing you closer against him to where you feel the bulge forming in his jeans. he can’t even hold back his moan, it being muffled by your lips. he pulls away again, this time kissing from your cheek down to your neck. he sucks at the expanse of skin while he caresses the other side of your throat. you let out a soft hum in pleasure, savoring every bite and lick—

“fuck, you sound so hot too,” he says in between kisses. he moves a hand down to your breast, kneading it roughly. you throw your head back, soaking in the pleasure from just his hands alone. his beautiful fucking hands, the ones that drew you. his lips feel so good on you, but his hands feel even better. it’s as if he’s been waiting for this moment for eternity and he doesn’t want to let you go. almost as if holding you, touching you is the only thing keeping him grounded in reality. it doesn’t feel real to you either; that mark, the cute boy you’ve had a crush on for weeks and weeks is kissing you, holding you, and yearning for you all the same.

you feel so wrapped up in the moment that you almost forget that you’re in public. sure, there’s no one left in the mall and the only people left are probably mall security, but the risk of being seen is still there. it just feels too good to stop.

“mark,” you say, giving in to the anxiety. “are we really doing this? right here, right now?”

he pulls back to look at you, still holding you close. “it’s just us here, and if it’s okay with you, i don’t think i can wait any longer.”

“i don’t think i can either,” you respond.

suddenly mark is ripping your clothes off, all while pulling you both behind one of the comic display cases. it’s your turn to take his clothes off, and you’re yanking his jacket off and pulling up his graphic tee and discarding them both on the floor. the exchange is a jumbled mess of constant touching of skin and clothes flying in every direction, a true testament to how desperate you both want each other. he’s kissing you all the while, taking every opportunity to peck at you between the tugging of clothes.

he leans you against the display bookshelf full of comics, completely unbothered when an issue or two falls off. your hand travels down into this jeans, feeling him hard and pulsing against your palm. you stroke his length slowly, focusing most of the stimulation on his dripping head. he lifts one of your legs slightly to get better access to you under your skirt, then looks at you as if he’s asking for permission.

you nod your head profusely before leaning in to kiss him deeply. it doesn’t last long, because suddenly he’s pushing inside you and you’re gasping at the stretch—

“you’re so—fuck—so fucking tight,” he hisses, attempting to push in as slowly as he can. your mouth is fully agape in bliss as he finally bottoms out, reaching deep inside of you. he catches your eyes, lust filled in his own as he slowly starts to move.

he’s slow at first, knowing that his size is stretching you out to the point where it’s nearly painful. but it feels so fucking good, his cock dragging in and out of your tight walls. you can tell he wants to pick up the pace, with his breath shuddering with each stroke. you take the opportunity to kiss him again, wanting to taste his soft lips as he gradually begins to pound into you.

he’s groaning against your lips, and your moans are muffled against his. you’re trying to salvage any sort of public decency by holding back your sounds the best you can. it’s when he grabs your legs and lifts you to press you against the display shelf that you realize that that shred of awareness of your surroundings is about to be long fucking gone.

he’s holding you up by gripping your ass, pistoning into you at a pace that you can only describe as brutal. it’s no use trying to stifle your moans anymore, with him hitting your cervix over and over and making you see stars at each stroke—

“mark, it feels so fucking good,” you can only whine out to him, wrapping your arms around his neck tighter, tugging at his hair—

“you feel so fucking good, jesus,” he groans against your neck, heaving breaths tickling at your throat.

his pace is wild, but the force in which he’s pounding into you begins to cause the comic books around you to tumble off the shelves, creating a pile at mark’s feet. he doesn’t seem to care though. that is, until a comic book falls from a shelf above you and hits him on the head.

“ah!” he exclaims, realizing what happened. he stops his movements to look at you, holding back a smile.

you can’t hold back your laugh, giggling profusely at the ridiculousness of the situation. he laughs too, shaking his head and letting out a sigh.

“this is crazy,” he says, resting his forehead on yours.

“i know,” you reply, still giggling. with one last laugh, he leans in and kisses you tenderly, smile still formed on his lips. you melt into him, ruffling your fingers through his hair as he begins to pick back up the roll of his hips into you.

it feels like a sweet moment, the fact that you can be doing such a scandalous act and still giggle with him. the tenderness doesn’t last for long, however, when he hits that perfect spot inside you that forces you to release a sharp moan.

“mark, oh my god,” you whimper, attempting to roll your hips down onto him. “keep doing that, please—”

“fuuuck,” he groans, feeling your core clenching around his length. “you take me so well, baby.”

all you can do now is nod, whimpering and whining on him. you can’t believe that this man that has always been so endearing, so kind and lovable has this completely different side to him that you’re only now getting to experience. it brings a different sort of intrigue to him; that he’s more than just a cute boy that works at a mall. he’s complex. he’s a fucking man. he’s a fucking. sex. god.

his breathing starts to become irregular, and his pace is back to merciless. his groans, fuck, his moaning. he’s bouncing you on his cock in the perfect way to where your moans are matching his. you can feel his dick pulsing inside you—

“i’m gonna cum,” he can only breathe out, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “can i?”

“yes mark, please,” you whine, tugging at the ends of his hair. all the while you’re clenching around his cock, bringing him closer and closer to his release.

with a low groan, his hips stutter and you feel his seed spilling into you, completely filling you up. the rocking of his hips stall, and he’s finally letting you down and kissing you sweetly, caressing your cheek with his hand.

“god, you are fucking perfect,” he whispers to you. you let out a giggle, leaning your forehead against his. “hey, i’m not done with you yet.”

he quickly moves you to the glass display counter, lifting you to sit you on it. he pushes your thighs open, lifting your skirt up to get a better look at you. he looks enamored, like he’s starving and the only thing to appease his hunger is by having you on his mouth.

he dives in, licking a stripe up your core with a groan. he repeats this action, as if he’s savoring every drop of your essence mixed with his release that’s slowly dripping out of you—

“so fucking hot,” he hums, releasing a hand from your thigh to tease at your entrance.

“mark, please,” you beg. “stop teasing—”

he attaches his mouth to your clit, swirling his tongue around in smooth, controlled circles. your hands fly to his head, body already twitching from stimulation. his finger is still prodding at your hole, wanting to enter but not just yet. he instead continues to ravage at your sensitive bud, intentional movements making your head spin. he knows what he’s doing and he knows he’s good, especially with the shaking of your thighs and high pitched moans escaping your lips egging him on.

he looks up at you, flattening his tongue out and doing long, drawn out licks. the eye contact is insane, the lust filled in them only making it that much hotter. he’s enjoying every second of this, seeing you shake and begging him to keep going. he loves the taste of you too, so sweet and almost addictive. he could die like this.

his teasing finger finally starts to deepen inside you, slowly at first. he can feel every pulse of your core around his finger, and it’s so hot that he can feel himself getting hard again. and you’re so wet, oh my god, so fucking wet. your arousal is dripping down his chin and his hand, making a sticky mess. when you start to roll your hips onto his face, he swears he’s in heaven.

he inserts another finger, feeling that tightness grip around them. it’s only getting more erratic now, clenching around him with each grind of your hips. he curls his fingers to prod at that sensitive spot, causing you to moan out his name—

“mark, don’t stop,” you whine, looking down at him basically making out with your pussy.

he continues the same movements, repeatedly hitting your g spot and swirling his dripping tongue on your clit. your back arches and legs unintentionally close around his head, making him push them back open with his free hand.

and then he starts humming against you. the vibrations send a shock wave through your body, that mixed with his fingers, his tongue, his hand gripping tightly against your thigh… it feels so intense and so so good. you cum on his tongue, with him desperately holding your hips down and he helps you ride out your high. he doesn’t stop until you’re shaking, and you have to grab his head and lift it.

“oh my god,” you gasp, slowly coming down.

he smirks up at you with arousal-coated lips. “yeah, oh my god.” he stands up, immediately going to kiss you and you accepting him, wrapping your arms around him. he pulls away and leans his head against yours.

“i can’t believe we just did that,” he says, sighing out an exasperated laugh.

“i know, what the fuck, right?” you giggle.

“are you- are you doing anything right now?” he asks. “like, do you wanna get food or something?”

“are you asking me on a date?” you ask teasingly.

“don’t tell me you decided you’re creeped out by the drawing now,” he laughs.

“yeah. suuuper creeped out,” you joke, leaning in for another kiss. you hear a noise behind you, and look out through the security shutters to see a mall security guard passing by, scrolling through his phone.

“looks like he just missed the show,” mark says, causing you both to try and hold back your fit of giggles.

a/n: thank u guys for reading! i rly enjoyed this one hehe :-) please leave feedback as i'm new to writing, and reblog to support me! it motivates me to write more!

✰taglist✰ @skz1-4-3 @oddracha @luvbit3z @tunafishyfishylike @seomisaho @haizbby @hoeforalbedo @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna

add me to the taglist!

[mangostarjam]

home cooking — wind breaker, aged up sakura haruka x f!reader, established relationship, scent kink, smut, written for kinktober run by @ficsforgaza, 1k words

The burn rising beneath Sakura Haruka's skin is familiar.

It feels like he's always blushing around you — but he can't help it. You're just so… pretty. So unexpected. Haruka sometimes thinks it's a fluke, that you're with him — maybe you meant to pursue a different Bofurin guy after graduation, maybe Kaji senpai or even Suo, who has the mysterious eyepatch thing going on. People are attracted to those types of guys, right?

But you're here — you're with him — hovering nearby as he toes his shoes off in the genkan and steps into your cozy apartment.

"Hey, Haruka-kun!" you beam. Sweat drips down the side of your face but you wipe it away with the collar of your shirt, grin turning sheepish. "Sorry, I just finished cooking dinner and the stove was so hot! Are you ready to eat? Or d'you wanna shower first?"

Haruka swallows and shifts on his feet. Frozen, stock still in your entryway.

Your shirt is stained with sweat, but some of it is dried already, evidence that this shirt isn't the… freshest thing you own. Haruka glances at your bedroom and catches a glimpse of the towering pile of laundry nearly hidden by the door. Judging by the state of the apartment, you've been too busy to do more than a perfunctory tidy, and the heat rising up his spine is joined by the tender clench of his heart at the simple fact that you've still prepared dinner to eat together. That you trust him enough to invite him in to see the messy, private slices of your life.

Haruka is also… hard.

"Haruka-kun? Are you alright?"

"I-I'm fine."

You drift closer, peering into his two toned eyes and biting your lip in thought. It shouldn't make his cock throb the way it does, but the gentle give of your lip sends a bolt of heat straight through him. He groans and shuts his eyes, turning his face away as your scent sets his nerves alight.

"Quit starin' at me. I said I'm fine."

"Haruka-kun," your voice is a whisper and way too close, "are you… turned on right now?"

A strangled whimper escapes him when you palm his bulge roughly, your hand hot even through the layers of his clothes. You're close enough that he can smell you, sweet and a little musty, indescribable, somehow more enticing now than all the times you've shown up for a date smelling like laundry detergent and vanilla.

He cracks one golden eye open just as you lean over to kiss him.

Oh, fuck.

Haruka kisses you back messily, spit leaking from the corner of his mouth as he groans around your tongue. You moan right back, unzipping his pants and shoving them haphazardly down his hips, pressing him back into the front door. His hands find yours before you can grab his cock again and he spins you around, swapping spots, pinning your wrists together above your head with one hand as you whine.

"Y-you're so," Haruka gasps, leaning in to kiss the bared column of your neck. Your scent is stronger, here, and he groans as he follows the heady trail to your exposed armpit. "You — you smell so good —"

Panic shoots through his foggy mind and he wrenches himself away desperately, but you're faster — too used to knowing exactly when to override his inhibitions, to grab his hand and drag him into free fall —

"Fuck me, Haruka, please," you gasp. You wiggle out of your shorts and panties and drag him back, hitching a leg around his hip and moaning when the wet tip of his cock catches against your soft, dripping folds.

"Why're you so wet —?"

"'Cause you got so turned on even though I look like a hot mess," you grin.

"Y-you're not a mess," he grunts, tucking his face into your neck as you angle your hips just right to start sinking onto his cock. "You—nghh shit, you're so fuckin' tight h-hold on —"

You huff out an incredulous sort of laugh and sink your fingers into his black and white hair, head knocking back into the door as he bottoms out. "D'you like how I smell right now, Haruka-kun?"

Of course you noticed.

You wiggle your hips and he can't help it — he pulls away slightly and bullies back into you, managing something like a rhythm, dragging his hard cock along every hot soft inch as your cunt clamps down on him. You feel divine, wet and perfect, your creamy slick coating his shaft and filling the air with the thick smell of sex.

It's embarrassing — humiliating — but he's so hard right now he has to strain every muscle in his body to keep from coming too soon.

"Haruka-kun," you gasp, tugging on his hair. "C'mon, do you like it?"

His entire face feels like it's on fire. "D-dunno what y-you mean."

You manage to shoot him a look with eyes half lidded in pleasure. Then, before he can catch up to you, your grip on his hair tightens and you drag him to your shoulder so that his nose rests just above your armpit.

Haruka chokes out a confused whine when the pressure in his gut snaps. His cock kicks as he cums, coating your insides with white as pleasure short circuits his nervous system and sends him into blinding relief.

"Haruka, baby, please I'm so close," you whimper, grinding your clit into the black and white hairs at the base of his cock. Haruka rests his forehead against your collarbone and manages a few more sharp, hard strokes, his cum oozing around his cock with every thrust, panting hard as you follow him over the edge with a cry.

The air is filled with stuttered breathing.

"Sorry my place is a mess," you mumble, pressing light kisses to the side of his head. "And that I smell like… omurice."

Haruka's face is hot. "You don't," he grumbles, nosing at your ear and smiling privately when you giggle. "More like… home."

[xtrashmammalstefx]

All Shook Up! (An Austin Butler x Reader SMUT!)

WARNING: SMUT, LANGUAGE, minors dni

Notes: SURPRISE MOTHERFUCKA! I know I've been gone for a while but in all fairness this summer just sucked balls and I'm just now getting back in the proper headspace to write/post. Idk what I'll write next but I promise there will be more stories coming. Anywhore I'll shut up now. Enjoy!!

PS: This is technically a sequel to Chaos Monster & Her English Gent but I think it can be read on its own. Okay shutting up for real now.

Sometimes my heart can be the stupidest piece of shit ever. It’s been weeks since that day in Callum’s dressing room, and only days since filming wrapped for the season. Callum’s been blowing up my phone constantly and Austin was now home for the time being until he had to go film his next project.

The day my heart fucked me over was one of those miraculous days when both Austin and I had the day off. Austin was spending it reading a new script, while I was just doing my best to relax.

Hello darling.

I chuckled and answered back.

Hey.

Bored already?

No.

I’m just missing my special girl is all.

I rolled my eyes just as the next text came through.

Send me a pic?

Doesn’t necessarily have to be sexual.

I just wanna see your pretty face.

“What you laughin’ at Priscilla?” Austin asked distracting me from my phone. He was in the arm chair looking at me; his script laying on his lap.

“Nothin. Just your boy being a fucking idiot,” I semi-lied. Austin still didn’t know about Callum and me...and if I was being honest I wasn’t too sure about Callum and me either. I’ve been accused of being too hasty with other things before and a part of me feared I was being to hasty with this too. Needing immediate distraction I raised my phone (camera on) and aimed it at Austin. “Smile baby.”

Austin looked up from his script and smiled without questioning it. I took the photo and sent it to Callum. “Do I even want to know what you’re doin’ over there babe?”

“Callum asked for a pic, but as you can see I currently look like shit,” I motioned at my messy bun (didn’t exactly feel like brushing out my hair that day), make-upless face, and bespectacled eyes.

“Darlin’ I hate to break it to you but never since I have known you have you looked like shit,” Austin said. Just then another message came through.

Sexy but you know that’s not what

I meant.

“Why does he want a pic anyway?” Austin asked.

I shrugged. “I think he just misses our stupid faces.

“Mm… I think it might be more than that sweetheart,” Austin said tossing his script onto the coffee table. “I saw the way he kept lookin’ at you on set. He looked at you like you were the finest piece of meat this side of the Atlantic. Which ain’t totally off base if I say so myself.” I scoffed at the idea but Austin continued to look serious. “You’re the most beautiful girl I know. It’s a shame that you don’t see it because I see it very clearly.”

I sighed and tossed my phone onto the coffee table before getting up and darting towards Austin. I sat down on his lap and cuddled into him. Austin chuckled deeply and wrapped his arms around me. Austin always gives the best hugs. “We really need to have more days like this.”

“Like what?” Austin asked resting his cheek on my head.

“Like this. Just you and me...like we’re the only ones in the world. Like nothing else matters as long as we’re both here, together, for forever…” It was then I felt Austin’s lips pressed themselves on my forehead.

“You’re already my whole world Y/N,” he muttered.

“And you’re mine,” I whispered pressing my lips against his cheek. It was something I had done many times throughout our friendship but this time… it felt different. This time he trembled at my touch. “You okay?”

He nodded. “Just all shook up I guess.”

“You fuckin’ dork,” I laughed before he was suddenly pulling me in. His lips enveloped mine sending a tingle up my spine. I know I should’ve pulled away...told him about Callum and hoped for the best but… I don’t know. For some reason I just… I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop.

But I guess something else wanted it to end.

Ding dong.

Austin pulled back and sighed. “That would be our UberEats.” He carried me back to the sofa and sat me down before going to answer the door. Normally Austin would gladly cook for us but we both agreed that on that day we were feeling exceptionally lazy.

We didn’t really say anything as we had our Thai dinner. Just snuck glances at each other every now and then. At one point I think it became a little too much for him to handle for he swiped the box of Mango Sticky Rice I had started to dig in to. “Give it back.”

“Hell nah, not until you get talkin’.” Austin said continuing to hold the rice hostage.

“I am talking,” I said. “Give. It. Back.”

“Or. What? Sugar.” He smirked pushing my final button. I dropped my chopsticks and pounced on him.

“Fucking give me the rice!” I snapped at him trying to reach for my rice which he now held above his head.

“Not until we talk about what happened earlier,” he said.

“God dammit Austin, it wasn’t rocket science, it should be obvious why we―.”

“Stop…”

“What? I thought you wanted me to…”

“No, I mean stop grindin’ on me,” he said making me realize that as I had been trying to get my rice back, I was simultaneous rubbing myself on his clothed crotch causing him to stiffen.

“Okay, needless to say that is your fault,” I said freezing on top of him.

“How the hell is that my fault?” he asked. “I didn’t ask you to grind on me.”

“No, but you stole my rice,” I pointed out before carefully standing up. “So… what now?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I know I want this, but I can’t decide for you,” he said before slowly standing up. “So until you know for sure if what you felt was as real as what I’ve been feelin’ every day since we met, I’m gonna have to handle this with a cold shower.”

He left the kitchen soon after leaving me be for a few minutes. I was suddenly not hungry for rice or anything on the table so after a moment I stood up and started towards my room needing to just collapse for a bit.

As I approached the door though, Austin left his room wearing nothing but a towel around his hips. “Oh, uh, sorry, I forgot my new body wash in the shopping bag.” He continued towards the bathroom and left his body wash on the counter before turning back to face me. “Is-uh-there something you wanna talk about?” He asked noticing my transfixed stare. He’d been spending his off time these last few months and his current off day to do a little extra working out for his new role and damn did it show. His abs were more defined, and his ass more perked and firm. “Y/N? You okay darlin’?”

“Uh-um-yeah,” I said. “I’m fine….I’m…” He approached me and placed his hand on my shoulder.

“You sure?” I was suddenly filled with a different, much stronger, hunger. It had me practically screaming inside while outside it only had me placing my hand on his chest. “Y/N?” I reached up and connected my lips with his. His body froze at my touch for only a moment before he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me back. He pressed me against the nearby wall and let his lips fall to my neck. As he kissed and suck on my flesh I reached down and yanked at his towel, making it fall to his feet. I wrapped my hand around his length and gasped at the feeling of his size. He wasn’t too long but girthy as holy fuck. I tugged on him gently earning a growl like sound in return. I chuckled.

“You really are all shook up aren’t you Elvis?”

“Oh fuck yeah I am Priscilla,” he said before placing his hands on my legs and picking me up. “Fuck yeah I am.” I wrapped my legs around him and let him carry me to my bed.

He laid us down and reached to pull off my shirt. He peppered kisses all over my body as he rid me of my lazy-day clothes. Once my panties were gone he placed my legs on his shoulders and brought his lips to my core. I moaned louder than I ever had, earning a chuckle from Austin before he continued to suck and lick me until I was nice and slick. “I wasn’t there yet you jerk,” I groaned as he climbed back up.

“Relax darlin’, I’m just getting started,” He smirked before reaching down and giving himself a tug before placing himself at my entrance. Just the feeling of it there made my body tremble. “Like it?” I nodded. “Want it inside you?” I nodded again. “Okay then…” He thrust his lips sliding the tip inside me.

“Holy fucking shit!” I hissed.

“So tight sugar,” he groaned pushing in further. Tears filled my eyes as he continued to stretch me. “I ain’t hurtin’ ya too bad am I?” I shook my head. “Good, I’ll try not to but feel free to hit me if I do.”

“Just fuck me already Aus,” I muttered. He leaned down and kissed me deeply before bottoming out and pulling back again. He kept his pace slow and gentle while I grew use to him. I pecked his lips and held him so our bodies were pressed together. As he continued moving inside me I snaked my hand down his back and squeezed his ass. I was right, it was pretty damn firm.

“God you drive wild,” Austin chuckled.

“How wild?” I asked.

“Want me to answer or would you rather I just―.” He thrust into me harder. “Show you.” He started moving his hips faster making my back arch.

“Oh fuck!” I screamed as he continued to thrust into me like his life depended on it. After a while he kissed me again and brought his lips to my ear.

“You wanna ride me?” I nodded eagerly. He wrapped his arms around me and flipped us over so that I was on top. I moved my hips rough and fast. It was like my whole being was just feral for him. “Holy shit you’re so fucking good at that.” Austin moaned thrusting up into me as I continued to ride him. As he did he brought his fingers to my clit and started rubbing me. That’s when the pressure began to build up inside me. “You gonna cum sugar?” I groaned and nodded. “That’s alright just come right on me. There you go baby.”

My whole body froze as a shiver ran down my spine. I was damn near screaming as I tightened around him, damn near squeezing the life out of his cock. I had just started coming down from my high, still partially blinded by the mind-blowing orgasm, when Austin wrapped his arms around me again and flipped us so I was on the bed once again.

“God you’re so fucking tight around me,” he groaned as he continued to thrust into me, only a little sloppier this time. “Gah fuck I’m gonna cum!” He moaned more and more as he started getting close. “Wuh-Where do you want it?”

“In...Inside...Inside me.” I said still breathless.

“You- You sure about that sugar?” He asked growing more and more spastic.

“Yes, god yes… fuck a baby into me Aus…” No sooner had I said that that I felt him twitch inside me. A rainbow of curses left his mouth as his body shuttered to a stop. He collapsed on top of me and gave me a final kiss on my now swollen lips.

“I fucking love you Y/N,” he said. “I love you more than words can say.”

I ran my fingers through his curls. “I love you too, Aus.”

He smiled and reached down to pull himself out of me. I hissed a bit when he did feeling a bit of a sting. “Sorry sugar.”

“It’s alright,” I assured him. He moved to lay down beside me and when he did I snuggled up to him. I fell asleep listening to the sound of his heart.

[i-just-wanna-write-fanfic]

Can I maybe request a yan!alphabet for duncan from total drama? I love your writing!

yes.

NOTES/WARNINGS I do not condone this shit, yanderes, yandere actions, please don't act like this, non-yan as yan image by me

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

He'd do it really anyway possible. He'd try to hold your hand, tease you, call you dumb nicknames, and so on. Really, just anything that makes you react.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Hell, He'd do anything if you'd stop FUCKING IGNORING HIM!

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

A little bit, of course. But he loves you, after all, he wouldn't try to actually hurt you. Not yet. Not now.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He'd keep trying to touch you, talk with you, tase you, he's trying to get you to pay attention to him! It ticks him off THAT YOU WON'T RESPOND!

LOOK AT ME!

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He won't bare much if anything of his heart. He tells some things about himself, but it tends to be small things. It's not every day he tells you something big about himself.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Pissed off. How fucking dare you even try?

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Not at all. He finds it funny sometimes, but that's really only on good days. Otherwise, he's hunting you like deer, taking you back home with you passed out while he carries/drags you {don't think bridal style, babes}.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

His bad days. You've been fighting him all day, hardly talking to him, walking away from his antics and such. He can't help but lash out at you, you won't even hold his DAMN hand! He'd probably hit you, scream, and tell you how it's your fault he's like this, before going to do something else. You'd have to do something he wants for him to apologize for it.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He doesn't care. He just hopes someday you'll start paying attention to him, let him hold you, and stuff like that. That's all he wants.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He does, but not often. There's no one to be jealous of if you can't go outside.

If he you outside and got jelly, he might just kill the person that made him jealous.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He's normally a bit distant, but he does his best to be nice and affectionate, even if you always fight him...

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He hardly ever talked to you before taking you away, but it was normally just you two "bumping into each other" (even if he set it up to happen)

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

No. He's only a bit more violent.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Like I said, he'd hit and scream at you. But if you're unlucky, he might just break skin.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Freedom? out the window. You can't leave unless he says so, and he's with you while you're out, anyways.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Not. At. All.

who's patience? never met them.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

He thinks he can, but he never will. If you simply left, he'd continue to look for you, but if you died, he'd feel like shit.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

No one really knows. Maybe it's how his parents more or less focused on their career, or how him going to juvie didn't really get him popularity points once he got back to school. Maybe he was just born this way.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He feels horrible but doesn't know what to do, so he just leaves the room you're in until you're done.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

No.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Him being distant. It's common for him to ignore his darling if he's doing something. Just wait for him to get too caught up in something for him to notice you're looking for the key to the door.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Yes.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

No lmao, but he would go to far lengths to have them to himself.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

About a few months at most. He's a bit of a needy man.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

He doesn't try to, but it's most likely he will break you.

END NOTES damn sorry I took so long. anyways here's your random meme.

[absolutebl]

Industry question for you, please: Why is it that it seems that Thai BL in particular has some really systemic issues with writing endings? Screwed-up pacing/editing, out-of-character/illogical actions, not being very satisfying... it seems like a show avoiding that fate is more of an exception than the rule, unfortunately. Do a lot of them just... not write the ending ahead of time? 😅 That would make having these sort of wacked-up endings at least make some sense, but... really, it makes *no* sense to me that that would be the actual standard writing strategy-- I mean, for example, one of the best living novel authors I know of *always* has very satisfying endings, literally without fail (I have read everything he's written and been perfectly content with the ending of every one), and the reason for that is he purposefully always writes the endings of his books *first*, then works everything back up to that point. Similarly, some of the best TV shows I've seen (from any country-- and this does actually include some Thai ones, to be fair) were written either all in one go or at the *very* least with their endings obviously already very firmly in mind, regardless of if they were completely original or were adaptations of some other source material. So... why does this often seem to be such a difficulty for the writers of Thai BL? 😅 (Sorry if I sound a little salty here, but endings either make or break all fiction for me {novels, manga/manhwa, TV, movies, games, whatever}, and I've been getting burned what seems to be more and more often lately with shows being great for the vast majority of their runtime but then inexplicably totally botching the landing, seemingly out of nowhere-- so I'm a bit frustrated with that when it seems to be a really simply-solved problem {that, indeed, has already been solved by many others before}: JUST WRITE THE DAMN ENDING *FIRST* and then work up to it? 🙃😅)

Endings huh? You a romance reader by nature? (Wait, no, you said... HE. So... Sparks? Green?) Anygay, where was I?

But yeah, I get it. I've always fancied the dessert course the most, myself.

To answer your question, not sure. I'm assuming its a narrative expectation based in culture. Like Japan and their lanes, China and 6 act structure, or Korea's adoration of love triangles. And producing culture comes to film and storytelling with its own set narrative conceits, archetypes, and tropes and aren't proscriptive but are leaned on a lot. Much as they come to film with a certain style as well.

Think about the "look" of Korean BL compared to the "look" of Taiwanese BL, for example. They have an entirely different flavor to them. Korean stuff is usually all bright and airy, lots of distance shots, super clean and uncluttered, filtered and filmy and atmospheric. Taiwanese stuff is much closer, more grainy, more bold with it's color choices and contrasts, kind-up n your face and gritty, a bit messy sometimes.

It's jarring to go from one to the other.

After watching nothing but Asian dramas for so long, I always find it jarring to go back to American shit. It feels over-acted and unsubtle and kind of brash. Over all "loud" and in my face. Jarring.

So when first encountering 4 or 6 act structure most westerners feel a little unmoored, it doesn't feel comfortable until you sink into it and leave 3 & 5 behind.

I'm mean I'm so used to K-dramas with that arbitrary year or more separation in the final episode I;m now shocked when it's not there.

I guess what I'm saying is maybe it's just a thing with Thailand, not to put that much truck in endings. The way (especially) romances do in the western world. There's a very fixed idea of what an HEA should look like in the west. Thailand may not share that idea.

I've not read the source books of any of these BLs, so I don't know if this is just their narrative style or not.

I mean there are some Thai BLs with good (if not great) endings, and plenty of Korean BLs with terrible middles, and far too many Taiwanese BLs with bad beginnings.

Ya just kinda get used to it, I guess.

15 Thai BLs with Good Endings

A Tale of Thousand Stars

Bad Buddy

Lovely Writer

2gether

Be My Favorite

Dark Blue Kiss (possibly my favorite on this list)

Destiny Seeker

Make a Wish

Naughty Babe

SOTUS

[gyusimp]

°•Cry•°

Warnings: No smut today, lol just a bit angst sorry. I've been feeling like Gyutaro lately and today I felt like crying in the office so I better take the opportunity to vent and write a bit.

▪︎Song Inspo: "Cry" - Cigarettes After Sex (i love them so much, pls listen to their music 🤧)

He was better than him, or so Gyutaro thought of his best friend.

Best friend? Since when did he think of him like that? He was quite a close acquaintance, because for Gyutaro friends don't exist.

He sees himself and him thinking that they are complete opposites, so why do they get along so well? And they get along so well why couldn't Gyutaro help but be envious of him from time to time?

Douma was a handsome young man, posting pictures of himself everywhere he went to his hundreds of Instagram followers. His skin was smooth, pale and flawless without any blemishes, his toned body and height would make anyone who looked at him drool, his features well proportioned and even his style of clothing was similar to that of a k-dramas idols or models, dammit.

He had a lot of friends not only in college but also from his old school where he finished high school, all the girls were texting him and would be willing to line up behind him at least to get a closer look.

He loved going out on weekends for walks and raising all the looks he could to feel desired and be the center of attention wherever he went.

Douma wanted a girl? He could have her.

But Gyutaro, oh, poor Gyutaro...he was Gyutaro. Always with the same expression on his face of having smelled shit even if he really felt happy, his laugh was totally outrageous and his shaky and weak voice matched it.

He had a nice skin tone and beautiful blue eyes but these were surrounded by dark circles due to the exhaustion of working all day and being a university student in his free time, the skin of various parts of his body including his face were dotted with peculiar birthmarks, a few scars and little spots caused by the stupid shitty acne he had been fighting for years.

He made an effort to dress well but being too tall he couldn't even find pants that fit him correctly, being tall was not part of his insecurities but being someone that big intimidated other people making them move away from him even when he weren't did it on purpose.

His hair was styled the same way every day, if he tried to do something different with it it was hard to like it and he'd rather opt to tie up his messy curls the same way again. Gyutaro hated his hair.

He had no friends, sometimes he used to talk with Hakuji and Michikatsu in college besides Douma but apart from them he had no one else to talk to. He hated people and his asocial tendencies made it almost impossible for him to want to leave his house when the 3 boys asked him out on a weekend. He had better things to do, like resting at least 1 fucking day a week and spending time with the only person he really cared about in life, his little sister Ume.

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

"Did you see her? I think it's her, right?"

Gyutaro looked up from his food towards one of the campus gardens, looking at the girl the blonde was referring to.

"It's her. Bro, do you really like her and can't recognize her yet?"

"It's nerves, I suppose." Douma said, laughing ruefully.

It had been several months since Douma had set his colorful eyes on a girl from college, no idea who it could be because she wasn't in the same class as them so that made things a bit more difficult for Douma to start his goal of getting to know her better. He didn't even know her name.

Gyutaro tried to help and advise his friend in what he could, he had never had a girlfriend before but for some reason he was good at romantic issues, although not when he had to apply them himself.

Recently, a girl at work had made Gyutaro's heart race every time he talked to her. She was too nice to him and they had a common taste for topics of conversation. It is not common for Gyutaro to feel romantically attracted to someone, it had been 4 years since his last disappointment in love so this time he was more mature and thought he would dare to open up more and maybe get to know this adorable and special girl more.

They were small steps but Gyutaro was determined and motivated by his co-workers, he would start by greeting her in a friendly manner, talking with her in free time and even bringing her some sweets or snacks to her desk making her smile and thank him tenderly, making his chest puff up proudly every time they were together... but not everything was rosy.

An idiot was behind her too. He had a girlfriend but he was still after every woman in the office that he could get for himself within the company, 7 years older than her and unattractive but still...she seemed to send all the little but sincere efforts from Gyutaro fucking down the drain. He was very disappointed, again.

Gyutaro cannot forget how one day he came to work earlier than usual and found them laughing and talking as if they had known each other for years and when they saw him they simply went to another place to continue talking alone...as if he was trash.

That day he decided to give up but if only his heart could stop feeling things for her so easily. She preferred that bastard, it wasn't safe at all but seeing them eat lunch together every day, talking when they could and coming to work together would drive Gyutaro into the head without fail, making him feel bad. It wasn't the first time this happened to him, other girls he was interested in before also rejected him without a second thought. They all told him the same shit about "She's missing it, don't worry about her." "The right one will come" but when? How much longer was he going to have to keep waiting when he was getting further and further along in his adult life? Were they sure the problem wasn't him? Because he was convinced of that. Different interests in different people, different places and stages of his life... and he was always rejected.

Gyutaro had so much love to give behind that serious face and "unfeeling" armor, but no one cared to know what was beyond all that. It was frustrating.

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

Gyutaro worked on his computer on some university projects after work, he did it afterward before going to sleep to pay enough attention to his little sister when he got home and had dinner with her. It was almost 9:00 pm and several messages made his cell phone vibrate, he took it to turn on the screen and see the contact "Douma" who had sent him 5 messages. Gyutaro opened the app and everything was a summary of how his partner had gotten the number of the girl he liked at a college event, got her Instagram and following each other accompanied by some screenshots of the random topic conversations with the girl. This made Gyutaro happy for his friend though not entirely, maybe at first but a few days later it all became a bit annoying for him. Douma couldn't stop talking about this girl, how cute she was to him and all the things they both had in common, how she responded to his messages almost immediately, and how they complimented each other. Douma was just excited and he didn't do it with any bad intentions but Gyutaro couldn't help but feel that his college romance was being rubbed in his face while he had been sent to hell a couple of weeks ago.

Gyutaro didn't say any bad comments to his friend, he reserved all kinds of hurtful words because he really appreciated him but envy grew little by little inside him. Douma was smart and handsome, he had gotten the seemingly unattainable girl of his dreams in a matter of weeks even though the only thing they met to socialize with was campus 1 time a week, a year ago he didn't even know she existed and now maybe they would even end up dating or doing things together in college and this disappointed Gyutaro in himself.

Why couldn't he do that? Why didn't these things happen to him? Even Ume got a love confession a few days ago but he never got his turn at anything...he was sick of this crap of feeling like he was "begging" people for some affection...he was fucking tired of the constant rejection .

If Douma did it with a complete stranger then why couldn't he achieve anything with the people he lived with and saw every day at school or work, with people who were even his friends, who took the fucking trouble to learn his name well and greet him every morning, with whom he had common themes and similar details in their life...why not him?

Shit, he was crying, again.

He didn't like to do it but he had to. Ume was asleep in her room so she couldn't hear his sobs in the dark, he sighed heavily and wiped a few tears from his face when his cell phone vibrated again. He scrolled down the notification panel only to find more messages from Douma and more screenshots of his conversations with the girl to tell him that everything was going well.

Gyutaro wasn't in the mood, not now. He tucked his cell phone under his pillow and snuggled under the covers as he was lulled to sleep by the rain outside. Maybe if he slept early today his head would stop aching and spinning in the morning, hoping to have a clearer and less stressful day than today.

[mermaidsirennikita]

ARC REVIEW: This Will Be Fun by E.B. Asher

4.25/5. Releases 9/10/24.

vibes: Shrek (but with some angst and lots of romance), Dungeons & Dragons, second chances all around, "we were doing so good and then reality happened'

Heat level: 5/10

The basics:

The heroic Four--Galwell the Great, his sister Elowen, their childhood friend Beatrice, and mercenary-turned-friend Clare Grandhart--are on the brink of saving the kingdom. And then they do... at the cost of Galwell's life. Ten years later, Elowen, Beatrice, and Clare haven't spoken since the funeral. But now, they're all obligated to attend the queen's wedding. Clare and Beatrice, whose tension-filled bickering turned to loathing after Galwell died, are begrudgingly on the same path. And Elowen is roped into going when the queen hires Vandra, an assassin she had a thing with on the last quest, into bringing her to the wedding. When all four crash into each other--compelled to save the day one more time--they have to deal with allllll the unresolved feelings. Romance! Adventure! Friendship! Pet eagles! YES.

The review:

Dude! This was so fun!

I was a little skeptical about whether or not this would actually be a romance. Short answer: yes it is, and you get two for the price of one. Two second chance romances for the price of one at that, which is always great for someone like me.

I didn't shelve this as a book with a secondary romance because for all intents and purposes, Clare and Beatrice's romance and Vandra and Elowen's romance really get almost equal time. They both have issues, they both have heat, they both have grand love confessions. The only thing that makes Clare and Beatrice a little more prominent is that there are three POVs in this book--Clare, Beatrice, and Elowen. Vandra doesn't have a POV, and while I get that she wasn't a part of the original Four... I would've liked it! She's on the page as much as the other three, and I loved her and her relationship with Elowen.

That quick critique aside: point is, as a romance reader you get a lot of different things, and it's great. You get Vandra cheerfully offering to consensually kidnap the introverted, awkward Elowen, and Elowen being unable to resist because like... Yeah dude. Vandra is just hot like that. You get Clare and Beatrice's unresolved "one night stand turned questmates falling in love turned people who aren't over each other but haven't been able to deal with their feelings ever since the big bad thing happened". Unresolved horniness! Intense feeling! It's all the type of shit a romance reader will gobble up.

However, the world is also a really great part of everything. It's very much fantasy by way of Shrek. Some of our characters speak to "heart healers", who can help them analyze their feelings. One watches "shadow plays", and boy is she into fandom. A heroine who once helped saved the world is kind of a messy bitch fresh off a divorce nowadays.

It's all very tongue in cheek and snarky, but in a very WHOLE FEELINGS way. You can tell these authors fully love this kind of setting, things like The Princess Bride and Dungeons & Dragons. Fondness and emotion is a huge part of the story. So yeah, while there are antics, you never lost that sense of like... cuddly softness. I mean, Clare literally has extended inner monologues about how much he loves his pet eagle. It's the cutest thing.

Often, cuteness is used to dodge a need for plot and character development in recently published romance novels. Here, that's not the case at all. You can tell that a lot of love was put into differentiating these characters, sending up archetypes while also subverting them. These aren't perfect people. They fuck up sometimes. It's actually quite refreshing to me that Beatrice and Elowen in particular are kind of... poorly adjusted ladies in their early thirties who need to work on their shit. Appreciate that representation. But beyond that, survivor's guilt and PTSD somehow fit so nicely into what is ultimately a really funny and really sweet fantasy romance novel? My God, we really can have it all.

I feel like there was a great balance between like... quest plot, relationship plot (both romantic and platonic, no bond is neglected) and funny little sidebars and quotes that had me bookmarking pages for later. Balancing between saving the world, kissing, and a character saving the day by autographing swords kind of creates a great palate-cleansing blend.

The Sex:

You only get two sex scenes in this book, one for each couple, and while they're explicit they're still a light touch in that sense. However, I found both of them sexy, and there's a ton of chemistry and tension in both romances. You get "questmates with benefits" on one side, and "man doggedly pursuing woman who pretends she doesn't give a shit" on the other. We all win.

I loved settling into this world for a romp. You get a strong voice here, great characters, romcom antics, and yeah, a lot of heart. I'd love to read another book in the same world--and hell, I'd love to see a miniseries made out of this one. It's just a really good time without being stakes-less, and that's not always easy to find. Go on the quest, I'd say.

Thanks to NetGalley and Avon for providing me with a copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

[oddeyecadia]

another set of pricefield headcanons "i love you i want us both to eat well" edition aka how they eat/cook together !!

- whenever max and chloe would eat or share food together i just know chloe's acts of service ass ALWAYS cuts and put food on max's plate first before she does literally anything else like this is just second nature to her. she always gives max the bigger half of the food too even tho max gets full easily, chloe would just eat it if ever max has any left overs anyway.

- max always make sure she orders a different drink from what chloe orders whenever they're at a cafe or something just so they could exchange orders if ever chloe doesn't end up liking hers. doesn't matter if max likes her original order better, she'll give chloe the better drink/food every single time. (i've written a scene inspired by some of these on ch. 2 of my pricefield tatbilb au fic here so go check it out if y'all want !! <33)

- max doesn't like eating the little white strings on cuties/oranges for texture reasons so chloe always removes them for her whenever they share one

- the olive theory!!! chloe loves olives while max hates them so whenever they go for pizza max would just automatically remove the olives on her slice and put it on chloe's without a word and chloe would just let her

- max feeding fries in chloe's mouth whenever she's driving!!!! she'd sometimes tease her and put way too much in her mouth so chloe could shut up

- i feel like max isn't necessarily a picky eater but there are a lot food textures she doesn't enjoy and u bet chloe memorized each and every one of that shit

- (slight nsfw) "i love you i want us both to eat well" chloe would say this whenever she wants to 69 and max absolutely hate and adore it at the same time

- idc what anyone says chloe is the "who tf is burning my kitchen?" wife and max is the "making breakfast for the love of my life 😍😍😍" wife

- they're both messy cooks max knows how to follow some recipes but sometimes she couldn't help but add some unheard of spice in there out of curiosity and completely ruin the dish, chloe "measurements are for cowards" price just eyeballs every ingredient and would somehow manage to create a dish u could find at five star hotels

- their usual setup while cooking together is basically just chloe doing all the work while max just stands there being her favorite emotional support sous chef giving her kisses every 2 minutes. sometimes chloe would make max do some silly little tasks "treat it like a side quest" she said and max suddenly is all for it (she's mixing something that's already been mixed) but then would get distracted and 5 minuets later she's opening all the drawers to stare at different utensils like the natural wanderer she is

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

my fullmoon dream ended up being a somewhat dense one in a continuation of my dream timeline

There's this person, who was my friend but it ended badly, a few years ago. And i didnt really understand what happened it was very confusing to me, i didnt really have any power in the situation, it was only this past year i learned of the way all these strings were being pulled behind my back, which helped me understand why that situation occurred, why there was so much resentment directed towards me when i was trying so hard to just exist and keep the friendship simple + lighthearted. Like basically it was just sabotaged which has been kind of hard for me to accept even with finally knowing how it was sabotaged, it was all so unnecessary and i just wish i knew sooner.

over the past 2 or so years ive had a recurring dream scenario where I run into this person. i always write them on here too. Sometimes we apologize to each other, sometimes we dont really speak at all, but theres always this vibe of like, "Things are cool between us now, its Ok." And its a very relieving feeling, in the dreams. its almost exciting, like wow, we can be friends again??! The thing i find most interesting about it is that even though i lost a LOT of friends in the past few years through the same source of sabotage, this is the only person i have these dreams about. I guess we were pretty close for a while but still its interesting no one else comes up in this way.

Anyways. in the dream last night(this morning), it was kind of different... it was really emotional?? usually its never that emotional, usually we dont even say much. but in this dream today, they were crying, they were so earnestly apologetic, talking about how they regret the ways they treated me, and missed being my friend so much. And i cried too because it felt so good to hear it, i apologized for the messy ways i responded to the situation because i didnt get it at the time i thought i was going crazy.. And we were like holy shit we can finally just be friends again.. This is amazing..

as the conversation closed i woke up, i had a moment of being like woahh, that just happened, all the feelings and imagery of it cemented into my conscious mind. THEN, i fell BACK asleep, to the exact same dream!! it just continued. I went and did some other things, i got a job at this weird childrens entertainment center where i was dressed in a panda costume dancing for children. But it was the exact same setting, they were still sitting in the same spot close by, and in the dream i kept having flashes of relief thinking like "omg we're friends again i cant wait to catch up and talk more once im off work"

i feel my body woke me up from that conversation to make sure i really claearly remember that part of the dream before it continued on. I havent had a dream-wakeup-backtosamedream happen in quite a while but i always regard it as an extra significant dream when i do,... also its the full moon

i never know what to do after these dreams like do i reach out? honestly this person kind of intimidates me so i never know. Like i cAnt imagine in reality they miss being my friend that much. But they are pretty sentimental deep down, so maybe. Its just a difficult situation where I was never the one with any of the power, So it feels strange to instigate contact. Like how it happened in the dream, it would only really make sense if they said something first. Maybe these dreams are just meant to bring about some psychic closure that i'm not likely to ever receive irl. Its always very confusing to wake up from lol. I would like to feel that relief for real..

But at the end of the day im satisfied with my life and the friends I have now, so its not a big deal. Just stuff thats buried. I swear its always full moons when i dream about them lol! We have the same moon sign, in astrology, i wonder if thats something to do with it. We always had a lot of weird almost creepy synchronizations in our personalities. Oh well

[lexcellence]

What is it about Western comics as a medium that enables them to tell specific stories--or be types of art--that other media can't replicate? It feels like it'd be so easy to translate a comic to a film, but we've also seen how outrageously difficult it really is. What, to you, makes comics so worth it all?

This is gonna be long and hella cynical, and I'm going to specifically focus on the big two (Marvel and DC) here, but I think a big part of it comes down to money, and the fact that comics are largely considered to be disposable media by the companies creating them.

See, there isn't a ton invested into the actual creation of comics. Creators are freelancers, so no need to worry about pesky things like "paying a reasonable wage," or "offering health insurance" — every few months or so you'll see people who shaped and revolutionized the medium setting up gofundme's because they never got a safety net, and they aren't taken care of by the companies they put all that work into. IP rights and royalties largely aren't a thing, and the nature of capeshit is that you're always going to find some fan who is honored to have the opportunity to write for them, even as the creators they grew up reading are torn up and spit back out. Couple that with an inherently built in marketbase of nerds, and, more often than not, not "wasting" money advertising actual comics to anyone who doesn't buy them already, and to a large extent it doesn't really matter what risks a comic takes. Warner and Disney don't really have to give a shit —a "bad" superman comic, by any definition of bad, might piss off a few nerds, but isn't gonna do a damn thing to the cultural perception of Superman™️, the Brand™️, available on everything from t-shirts to truck nutz at your local Walmart. And hell, 99 times out of 100 the nerds will keep buying the book anyway, and who cares if they don't, because the comic shops will.

Movies, on the other hand, are a pretty significant investment! You've got actors, hundreds of people in cast and crew, and *actual marketing.* They've gotta make that money back and then some, while appealing to an audience of people who might own a Batman wallet, but couldn't tell you the difference between Joe Chill and Victor Fries. It's harder to take risks with movies, because suddenly you might actually taint the image of a seventy year old brand, and that terrifies all of the investors. You throw too much Comic Book Bullshit™️ at general audiences who haven't already devoted their personalities to caring about who Batman is fucking that week (Hal Jordan), and it gets messy. This isn't even some "general audiences wouldn't understand*" gatekeepy shit, either - if you pick up literally any random comic issue and you don't like it, worst case scenario you've spent like four bucks and fifteen minutes of your life, and you've got anything from dozens to thousands of other issues to try.

*that being said, I still maintain that Batman & Robin is better than any Batman comic that came out that year, and everyone who says otherwise is a fucking coward.

And so, comics end up in a weird, probably ultimately untenable position of being able to take more risks, and being made largely by people who love comics, and grew up speaking their bullshit language. They're self-obsessed and masturbatory, sure, but the thing about saying that derogatorily is that it ignores the fact that masturbation is fun? The worst comics I've read, and I've read a lot of bad comics, are still almost always labors of love, be that for better or for worse. As exhausted as I get sometimes, it's hard for me to write that off entirely.

And, ultimately, I'm just way too invested in who's fucking Batman (Superman).

[mrs-monaghan]

I ain't gonna lie. JK kinda being a bit of a shit stirrer today. Why is he posting pictures adding up to 13 like he's baiting Jimin, but posting the food in the same set of dishes that Tae owns? Tae already showed that dish set in his story not long ago. Kinda like that day JK said Jimin was his, but turned around and said Tae was his. JM's in NY minding his business, while JK's kinda being messy. Well, at least both sets of shippers are happy & fighting at the same time over who JK is really posting for.

Anon, come closer. Let me show you something.

Remember this?

Okay. Wonderful then I'm sure you remember that atrocity they did of photoshoping V on Jimin's face. See if u can find it among all these times where they replaced Jimin with V.

These assholes didn't even try 🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️ That's one of the most iconic Jikook moments of all time. If you're gonna try to copy at least put in some effort 🙄🙄

That's one.

2) Remember when Jimin said the best part that represented him was the timestamp 1:23 on the One Day MV?

Remember how JK started recommending songs to army and pausing the songs at 1:23? He did this continuously without fail. (Manilla fight)

Even when sometimes the part made no sense. More on this here.

When Jikookers started celebrating this guess what the vermin did? They took the 123 theory and decided to relate that to Vkook. Even though they never would have done that shit, if Jikookers didn't point it out. According to them, 123 was about Tkk because V was born on 12th December 🤦🏽‍♀️

Shouldn't it have been 1230 then?? Why did they get rid of the 0? For convenience as always. 🙄🙄 Well, joke's on them, because JK stopped doing this. This is one of the earliest moments of JK debunking Tkkrs.

3) When Jkkrs noticed the JM and started talking about it.

The vermin said the tiger was about them. Because V's animal is a tiger.

Fuck the fact that the tiger and Korean culture go hand in hand. But guess what JK did when he met Poly C? He👏🏾covered👏🏾that👏🏾shit👏🏾up! Sure the man and the rest of BTS hated how the SK government were treating them. Sure he hates how he can't even show the world who he's in love with due to his homophobic country, so he decided the Tiger didn't mean that much to him after all. But I bet he saw a chance to kill 2 birds with one stone and he did. Fuck SK and fuck Tkkrs. Boom! Done.

4) When Karmy nick named Jikook the Sun and Moon duo because satellite Jeon is always orbiting Jimin like the moon orbits the sun, The vermin also started calling Tkk the Sun and Moon duo. Their reason? Don't ask me. Idk and idc. Too bad though, coz even BH knows who are the REAL Sun and Moon duo

5) While we are on the "mine" topic. Karmy already explained the difference between JK saying Jimin is his Vs when he said (warning RIP your algorithm if you click on this) V is his. According to Karmy, with V it came off more like a statement. With Jimin it was possessive, AF. And I agree. Not just because I'm a Jikooker, but because you don't need to be Korean to hear the difference.

For context: An army asked JK to give Jimin to them and JK was like; he's mine. But here is what u have to keep in mind. The V one came way, way, waaaaaay later than the Jimin one. As soon as he said Jimin was his, the vermin kept pestering JK with the same thing the former Army asked about Jimin. So going by JK's tone, it seems to me like he said what he said about V, to shut them up. 🤷🏽‍♀️ The difference is in the tone, guys. U don't gotta be Korean to hear it.

These are just a few examples. And now you're telling me, even though our numbers theory makes more sense, Tkkrs are claiming what JK is doing on weverse for themselves because of a plate?? A plate? Really.

This is just like when they decided Tkk went snowboarding because of a pair of shoes. Like no one else owns those shoes apart from JK and V 🤡 Again, someone please explain to me how people take them seriously. Please. They want what we have soooooo bad. They have always wanted what we have.

Jin can grab V's balls or whatever tf this was. Taejin what goes on??? 🧐🧐

And the vermin did not bat an eye. Not one fucking peep from them. But in the same memories 2021, Jimin gets embarrassed and does the simple act of hiding his face in JK's neck (something he has done for years BTW)

And ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE!!!

You cannot tell me these people don't know Jikook is real. If they didn't see what we see they wouldn't want what we have so bad. And they certainly wouldn't feel so damn threatened.

So anon, JK owning the same plate as V, cannot even be compared to JK making a post on Jimin time. It ain't and will never be the fucking same. Please.

[pedroshotwifey]

20 Questions for Writers 📑

I was tagged by @nerdieforpedro. Ty bb I love you ♥ I feel like some others may have tagged me in this a while ago so I send my thanks to you as well 🥰

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Technically, I only have 32. I would personally count all of my collections and challenges as separate fics, but I'm honestly too lazy to format them that way. (mostly thinking ab wcc here)

2. What is your total AO3 word count?

I have a total of 200,985 words right now. Didn't realize I'd hit the 200,00 mark yet!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I think it's safe to say Pedro Pascal is my fandom. I have no objections to writing for any other characters though---in fact, I've actually featured some Oscar Isaac characters in my fics before. I also have an unpublished Marc Spector fic that's been sitting in my docs for a while 🤭

4. Top Five fics by kudos:

Joel Fucking Miller (ao3 link) has 377 kudos. Dom Joel Miller fucks you over a table in this age gap enemies to....lovers(?) one shot.

Favorite Bounty (ao3 link) has 144 kudos. In this series, you unexpectedly hitch a ride with the Mandalorian and begin to grow close to him until you find out his secret.

Beg for it (ao3 link) has 121 kudos. Subby virgin Din is completely at your mercy in this one shot.

Wifey's Christmas Countdown collection (ao3 link) has 96 kudos. Lots of different characters and plots! Some are fluffy, some angsty, some smutty. Some are all three! Love these and I think some of my best writing can be found here.

Cramped (ao3 link) has 78 kudos. Subby virgin Din sitting in a teeny tiny cockpit with you. What more can I say? (gn! reader)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Always! It may take me a bit sometimes, but I love interacting with people who care enough to leave comments for me!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Already published, I think I'm gonna have to go with Cuts. I personally love this fic and think it's a bit underrated. (dark!husband Jack Daniels x f!reader)

OOO actually I think Alone Always is gonna take the cake here. (Din Djarin x gn!reader)

7. What is the fic you wrote that has the happiest ending?

I honestly have a habit of making most endings happy 😂 I don't feel like digging right now so I'm just gonna say What Matters. (Age gap Joel Miller x f!reader) This is also my most popular one shot on Tumblr with over 1,000 notes.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not too much, but I have gotten some shit for little things on TTF. This rly sucks because I let it get to me too much and I end up getting into a slump.

9. Do you write smut?

Do I write anything else?

jkjk, I love writing it all, but smut is for sure one of my more dominant themes!

10. Craziest Crossover?

Probably One Condition. Ezra (prospect) and Marcus Pike x f!reader. Messy dubcon-ish sex pollen one shot. It's pretty fun and got a lot of good feedback!

11. Have you ever have a fic stolen?

As far as I know, I have not. And I'm really hoping it stays that way! I'm just hoping that since my writing isn't super great, most copycats will stay away 🤣

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware of!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Have not, but I wouldn't be opposed. I know my friend (@kewwrites) and I have talked about doing fics and eventually crossing over into each other's before.

14. All time favorite ship?

Me and Pedro, Duh!!

Lmao nah in all seriousness, pls don't hate me, but I'm a little obsessed with Dinluke 😂🫣

And I'll go ahead and take this opportunity to say that my absolute least favorite ship is Dinbo 👎

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

omg I don't know 😭 I have some that are very slow going but I don't want to admit defeat because then it's set in stone 😂 Hopefully everything will be finished at some point!

16. What are your writing strengths?

No idea. I honestly think that sometimes I kind of lock in and am able to write immaculate stories, but most of the time they're just meh. Great at description at these times.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

BURNOUT FUCK YOU BURNOUT FUCKK YOU FUCK YOU VERY MUCH

Currently going through an awful streak of it and I'm stressing out because I finally have time to write and am just not able to 🫠

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Fantastic if used right! I love little terms here and there depending on the ethnicity of the character and their first language since it definitely adds to the authenticity. I do like for the translation to be at the end of the phrase/excerpt though instead of at the end of the fic.

19. First Fandom you wrote in?

PPCU! Loml fr

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

This is so tough because I forget them all 😭 And then I'll read them again a few months later and fall in love and be like "this is the best thing I've ever written", and then forget again. 🫠 I genuinely have no idea.

I would love more than anything right now though if anybody would care to drop their favorite fic of mine in the comments of this post or even in my inbox ♥ I think it would help a lot to hear atm!

NPT: @kewwrites @notjustjavierpena @iamasaddie @strang3lov3 @freelancearsonist @janaispunk @beardedjoel @ghostofaboy

[seren1tyhaze]

was it ever really love

PAIRING: taeyong x afab reader

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

SUMMARY: your thousandth argument with your boyfriend sends you into a screaming match ending in decisions (mistakes?) made by both of you THANK YOU: @strwbrysunday you are the best collaborator I could ask for and our dms are between us and some higher power <3

WARNINGS: explicit smut, smoking, drinking, heavy profanity, angst, mild verbal abuse (yelling, domestic setting)

PLAYLIST: heavily inspired by "Seven" by Natalie Jane, highly recommend giving it a listen before or during reading. AVA by Natalie Jane too. but OK! is always a writing song for me too...if you can't tell

What a lie Wasted time On a feeling I wish I (I wish I) Saw the signs (saw the signs)

—

“JUST GO!” your temper is flooding out of every pore in your body, anger heating your face as you stare at him shocked that it has come to this.

“You are going to regret this,” Taeyong sneers at you, biting back the urge to spit at you, a nasty habit you’ve seen him do more than once when fighting with Johnny outside their work.

“The only thing I regret is wasting seven fucking months on this fucking bullshit,” you bite back, tears welling in your eyes, even as you rapidly blink, silently begging them to stop.

At that he turns on his heel, ripping a carton of cigarettes off the coffee table and your favorite lighter and storming out of your tiny apartment. You know your neighbors had to be hearing this but also must be relieved at hearing the break up because it means they don’t have to hear your screaming matches anymore.

Unable to move from where you stand, your fingers swipe over your phone screen, tapping on your best friend’s contact in your phone and pulling it up closer to your mouth.

“Can you come over?” you croak into your phone, unable to say more before crumpling into a ball on your bed. Exactly seven minutes later, your tall best friend has strong arms wrapped around your sobbing frame, stroking your back with large hands, whispering quietly in your ear in attempts to calm you. He fits perfectly behind you, despite your large height difference and you try to ignore that his arms feel bigger than the last time you saw him.

All Jeno can gather is that you’ve finally ended things with Taeyong and he’s terrified what he might do if he ends up running into him in the coming days. He’d been here for many nights like this, sometimes in your bed, other times in his, but each time it ended with you crawling back to someone who never knew how to respect you or treat you well.

“That piece of shit,” he mutters more to himself than to you as you slowly roll over onto your back, eyes fixed on the ceiling, tear stained cheeks puffy and red. His own face is pink too, flushed from seeing you like this, blending in with his lightly tinted pink hair, messy and long, almost in his eyes.

“What can I do?” he asks, dragging two fingers over your forehead to push your bangs to the side, letting them glide through the rest of your hair to massage your scalp like he did countless times before when you had a migraine.

“Help me forget,” you murmur, letting emotions flood in as you lean into his touch, grabbing at the back of his neck to pull his lips into yours. You wish you hadn’t thought of this hundreds of times before, you wish you hadn’t thought about it the minute Tae had started into you earlier that night, you wish you hadn’t almost moaned out his name while your now ex had been pounding into you just a few weeks before.

Jeno wishes he had been a little more surprised when you pulled him into the kiss, he wishes he hadn’t moved so quickly to change into fresh boxers when he heard your broken voice on the phone, he wishes he felt even a shred of guilt and remorse for what he was about to do.

But none of those wishes are coming true tonight as your three little words are all Jeno needs to unleash everything he’s wanted for years, to make you feel better than you’ve ever felt before, to be the best you’ve ever had, and try to heal everything Taeyong spent months breaking.

His hands are all over you slowly and suddenly all at once, eager and patient, equally dirty and soft. Before you have a chance to think about what is happening you are moaning into his mouth, grinding slowly on his cock, dragging yourself up and down his length while he clutches your face lovingly in between his warm hands. 

He’s shirtless and you’re still in Taeyong’s old baseball jersey, only buttoned down to your navel, his number burning on your back as you do the exact thing you promised had never happened. He’s everything like Taeyong and nothing like him all at once, equally passionate but without any of the anger and fire you had come to expect from sex. Your brain can’t help but flick back to the countless times you had sworn up and down that there was nothing between you and the man currently sucking at your collarbone.

“You don’t have anything to worry about, baby, Jeno and I have known each other for years and he has never made a pass at me, not once!” you had pleaded one night when his jealousy had caused him to slam his hand on your small dining room table, a short rocks glass sliding off and crashing onto the floor. 

You don’t know if you believed yourself then and you know for a fact that Taeyong didn’t, he never once trusted you. Maybe he shouldn’t have.

Halfway across town, Taeyong has his head tossed back in ecstasy, digging his palm into the leather seat of his motorcycle, the cool night breeze ruffling his hair and sending a shiver up his spine. Parked in the alley behind his tattoo shop, he knows Johnny might look out his window upstairs and see Taeyong getting the best head of his life, but he can’t possibly care at this moment. His anger had melted into pleasure the minute he had his hands on a slim waist clad in a leather jacket over a tight black tank, digging his hands where they had been so many times before.

“Right fucking there,” he groans out, curses falling from his lips as he digs his other hand deep in blonde hair, pushing down to thrust his throbbing cock deeper into the warm mouth pleasuring him.

“Jesus fucking- JAE,” he almost screams, gripping his hair tighter, pulling his head back violently, catching the devious eyes of the man on his knees below him.

“Watch the teeth, bitch,” Taeyong growls, words cruel and cold as he can’t help but drop a thumb to gently caress Jaehyun’s temple.

“Sorry, baby,” Jaehyun smiles, taking the tip of his cock back on his plush lips, suckling gently and letting his tongue slip out to push ever so gently against his slit.

Taeyong lets pleasure wash back over him, sighing deeply as he feels his orgasm build quickly in his core, spreading up to his chest and pushing incoherent ramblings out of his mouth. Jaehyun refuses to relent, hollowing his cheeks and digging his palms into Taeyong’s ass as his nose collides with the older man’s pelvic bone. Thick ropes of release are painting the inside of Jaehyun’s mouth suddenly and he’s smiling through the orgasm, flicking his eyes up to watch Taeyong cruelly slam his hand down on the back of his head to push him further up his dick.

Before he’s even finished releasing his cum into Jaehyun’s eager mouth, Taeyong is lighting a long cigarette, taking a deep drag and blowing it out through his nose.

Jaehyun smirks as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, taking his tongue to skin to lap up what remains there, making eye contact with Taeyong as he does so. He tucks Taeyong’s softening cock back into his briefs and jeans for him, carefully zipping the pants up before tugging on his belt loops, drawing himself closer with his lips parted.

Taeyong pushes back thoughts about how sexy that sequence of events was and rolls his eyes as he places the cigarette between waiting lips, letting Jaehyun take it and step back, leaning against the dumpster behind him.

“How long before you call me for that again? It’s been longer than ever before,” the blonde purrs. He looks devastating in the moonlight and Taeyong wants nothing more than to drag him upstairs to his small apartment he shares with three other artists and fuck him senseless, kiss every inch of his skin he can get to, and feel something.

“Who the fuck is J with a red heart? Taeyong I swear to GOD, we’ve been over this a million times before!” you had yelled at him in this very spot where Jaehyun was currently leaning. 

Taeyong still had black gloves on his hands from his last client, having practically been pulled out by the scruff of his neck the minute you could get in the room. He had left his iPad at your apartment and when you went to check the battery before bringing it to him at work, you saw texts on the lock screen from “J❤️” in his notification center. You couldn’t read them without his password but anger flared up immediately, anxiety and fear rushing over you. You hadn’t been dating long enough for him to be cheating on you.

When you found out it was an old friend from baseball, you still couldn’t think of a reason he needed that emoji but listened to whatever stupid ass excuse he had anyways. And as you had done with most things in your short but tumultuous relationship (situationship? fuck.) you had let it roll off and explained it away on differences in personality, upbringing, love language.

Maybe tonight proved that you were both wrong. Maybe tonight proved that you were both right. As both of you stood in your respective bathrooms, cleaning sweat from your arms and cum from your thighs, you tried to reconcile with the fact that not even an hour had passed before you had both run to the very people you had said the other had nothing to worry about. Maybe you both were the villain in this story, maybe you were both victims.

Was it ever really love? you wondered as you lay on your back next to a lightly snoring, shirtless Jeno. You’re not sure you’re going to get the answer to that question, especially not as your phone lights up with a message with two words that shoot sparks immediately to your core.

“Baby pls”

[oatmealdaydreams]

Melissa the Butterfly Plushie

Let me know if you wanna be added on or taken off the taglist!

Pairing: Intruality

Warnings: none

Description: Patton isn’t having a great day. Remus makes him a special little gift to cheer him up.

Extra: Day 2 of @intrualityweek; prompts are Plushies & Butterflies. Melissa is based on a Melissa Blue butterfly.

[Masterlist] | ao3 link

[fic under the cut]

Remus doesn’t know what in the fuck made Pat-Pat so upset, but they’re determined to make his frown disappear. 

Aside from the fact that he’s Patton, and no one gets to fuck with Patton, Remus cares about him. ‘Remus?’, you may gasp, ‘Caring about the one Side who’s disgusted by everything they are?’ Yeah, yeah, fuck off, you don’t know shit. They all greatly exaggerate their reactions and parts of themselves for the videos to make them entertaining. So, yes, Patton was never as disturbed as you’ve probably seen on camera, but he also wasn’t too far off from wanting to push Remus’ ideas out of the forefront. They’ve worked on it. Patton’s worked on seeing that Remus is more than gore and innuendos and Unwanted Thoughts, and Remus got a taste of what it’s like to feel so much all the time with very little outlet to express it. It’s...turns out they have more in common than anyone would’ve guessed. Remus understands what it’s like to have a severe lack of a healthy outlet to be messy and express things without ridicule; Patton understands a little too well what it’s like to be viewed as nothing more than a punchline dummy and have your contributions dismissed as either unrealistic or Bad. They’ve...they’ve got their own shit. It’s nice knowing that now there’s supportive words and gentle touches where there used to be borderline hostility and fear. 

Remus digresses. 

Pat-Attack’s not doing so well today. There are grey eyes where there’s usually bright blue. A smile becomes painted. Cheery words sound forced and hard to say. Something’s fucked with him, and—as was mentioned—that’s not allowed to happen. Remus would love for whatever made Pat-Pat upset to meet its stupid face with their morning star; however, taking care of the sad little cub is far more important. So. Setting down their morning star and snapping into soft, comfy things, Remus slides open a special drawer in their craft desk. It’s filled to brim with ideas: the different kinds of soft fabrics, lists of things needed to make plushies or blankets or funky fidgets, sketches of homebrewed heating devices or coding for video games or little notes of praise when someone’s feeling too low to believe it from another’s mouth. It’s their comfort-projects drawer, a special thing they and Roman started doing long before they even realized they both did it. Okay, look, it’s a little embarrassing, but…well, it’s one of the first things they bonded over when they finally got to talk again outside of cameras or meetings with Thommy Salami. 

Remus, sappy? No, they’ve no idea what the fuck you’re talking about. Maybe they care. That doesn’t make them sappy, they have a reputation, afterall. 

Shut up.

Remus sifts through the papers and sketches and fabric samples, brows furrowed in concentration as they search for what they need. Pattie’s always been a big softy, everyone knows that. He’s the one with open arms for hugs, baking cookies or cooking breakfast in the kitchen, checking in on even the stubborn ones—Logan and Virgil and literally all of them—making sure they’re doing okay or if they need help. He’s even—okay, so, Pat-Pat’s not always known what help actually helps some of ‘em, but he’s learned and still learning and making good effort, and, well...he’s a lot better than he used to be. Patton helps them and supports where he can because he cares, so much, about everyone, even those who he doesn’t quite understand.

Patton cares for everyone, but who cares for Patton?

They all do, is the correct fucking answer, but it isn’t always obvious because brains will be mean and sometimes people don’t know how to communicate that well. Which is okay, both of it, brains will be mean and people will be confusing, that’s okay. Just untangling all those knots and ties and shit of whatever was lost in translation is hard fucking work. It’s not easy. Caring is effort. Maintaining relationships takes effort and work. 

Remus knows one way to be obvious about caring for Patton. 

Besides shouting ‘I care about you, you fucking dork!’ and bluntly stating so, because that can be hard and saying you care for someone isn’t always easy because your brain doesn’t make it easy with its mixed signals to your speech box thing. 

It’s called a ‘larynx’, Remus, they can almost hear Logan correcting them. 

Whatever, Lolo. 

Remus makes a triumphant noise when they pull out a sketch for a plushie design, along with a small reference photo. Its pattern needs some blues, oranges, browns, silvers…a lot of colours. It’s for Patton, it’s going to be colourful. Pat-Pat likes colourful things. And soft things. And plushies, especially those. They look through their drawer again, digging to find the soft and fluffy fabric samples. They’ll need to borrow some of that pixie shit from Roman’s Faery Forest. Not the dust, no, who the fuck do you think they are? They need some of a pixie’s wing sheddings. What do you mean, pixies don’t shed their wings? You don’t know shit, clearly, because how else do they keep their wings nice and shimmery and flimsy like that? Fucking amateur. 

Remus goes about getting enough fabric, pulling out their sewing kit and the fluffier stuffing to fill the plushie with. Ooh, what colour should they make the eyes? They’ve gotta be real eyes, move around and shit, otherwise it’d just be a plain thing. Remus doesn’t make boring creations. Especially not for Patton, no, that wouldn’t do. It’s gotta be fun and keep his laughter singing throughout the Mindscape. 

Where’s the proper needle for…oh! Here it went, stupid little needle. Trying to escape, are we?

As Remus begins going through the motions of sewing fabric together, careful not to prick themself—this time—they lapse into thought. Pattie likes to cuddle his plushies. They’ve caught him squeezing the inanimate frogs or bears or copies of the Sides when nights are hard and words are harder. When he’s hiding away in his room, trying so hard not to push away the scary feelings, but it all just comes bubbling up out of him in waves and waterfalls and snotty little babbles. He doesn’t think anyone knows, but Remus does, and Janus does—because he’s a sneaky bastard—and it...Patton tries, so much, so hard, to be who they need him to be when shit gets tough and morals turn out to be in various shades of grey. It’s not like unlearning bad habits is easy. They’ve all got shit to unlearn. They all try their damn hardest at being better and being patient. It’s getting better. But healing isn’t linear, nor is unlearning unhealthy habits, and so there will be days where the lure of what used to happen snatches one of ‘em up and drags them down down down into something akin to misery. There’s days where an angry shouting of ‘I don’t want to heal right now, I don’t want to, shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up!’ echoes in their minds. That’s okay, sometimes healing means not wanting to heal, and that’s okay. 

None of Pat-Attack’s plushies can hug him back. 

Remus seeks to remedy that. 

=====

Patton’s laying on his bed, curling around a greenish teddy bear with a mustache on it. He hugs it tight to his chest as hitching breaths force themselves out of him. His glasses press unkindly against his face as he smushes his nose into the belly of the teddy. 

A slow, eerie knock on his door catches his attention as his head turns sharply towards it. 

Swallowing around a lump in his throat, he waves his hand vaguely towards the door. It clicks as it opens, revealing a Duke wearing soft things. A hand hides behind their back. Patton peeks at them as they come in, bundled in his blankets. Something worrying makes him pause as he glances at Remus. They don’t usually knock on the door, nor do they come in quietly, hiding something, in soft things. So, yes, Patton’s a little worried. 

Are they okay? Did something happen? Is their brain being mean to them again? Patton tries his hardest to put on a smile, but it’s hardly a tug at his lips. 

“Ya don’t hafta do that, Pat-Pat,” Remus says before they plop down on the bed.

Patton’s smile stutters for a moment, “I, um...are you doing okay, Remus?”

“‘M fine, Pat-Attack. What’s up with you, huh? Looking a bit grey an’ shit.” 

It shows when Patton doesn’t even chide them teasingly for swearing. His smile stays stubborn. His face starts to ache uncomfortably from it. 

“Oh, I’m okay! Just cuddling my bear, no need to be worried, kiddo,” the cheery voice is so fake and forced that it makes the room flicker in small flashes of yellow like lightning from the wall-clouds. 

“Really? Then why’s your walls all silvery?”

This gives Patton pause, the smile dropping the tiniest bit as he blinks. His walls hold photographs and cork boards full of memories from when everyone was younger. Normally, the walls themselves would be bright blue with clouds moving across them like it’s the actual sky. Now, the walls are silvery instead of bright, and the clouds are storming with rain that drips down into the carpet. 

“C’mon, Pat-Pat,” Remus encourages. 

Patton huffs as his smile falls. He grips his teddy bear in his arms as he leans his back against his headboard. Remus makes a soft noise at the sniffling as Patton refuses to let the tears brimming in his eyes fall. 

“Hey, hey, what’s goin’ on? Brain being mean?” Remus asks, not unkindly, hiding something from Patton’s view. 

Patton sighs, mumbling, “I don’t know. Today’s just…it’s stupid—”

“It’s not stupid if it’s upsetting ya.”

“...It’s nothing.”

“Pat.”

“No—no, I mean there isn’t a thing bothering me! I just feel bad for no reason.”

Remus nods in sympathy, gently knocking their shoulder against Patton’s. Patton hums, absentmindedly rubbing his face against the teddy. Remus notices the mustache it has and can’t help it as something soft in them melts a little. They carefully take Patton’s glasses off when they see it pressing harshly against his face, frowning when they notice the reddish indents on the bridge of his nose. The moral Side still refuses to let his tears fall. 

“Ay, you can cry, Pat-Attack. Isn’t that you tell Lolo and Jannie when their brains are being stubborn?” they sneak what they’re holding onto their lap as they sit up fully, but Patton doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Y-yeah, but they have a reason. I don’t—I’m not—”

“Ay, nuh-uh, ya don’t need a reason, Pattie. C’mon, let it out, m’kay?”

“It’s hard.”

“I know, Pat-Pat, I know.”

Something blue and pretty flutters in Remus’ lap, and it catches Patton’s eye. He glances down to see a soft-looking plushie, its wings bright and colourful. It’s a butterfly, alive, and fluttering around in the Duke’s lap. He gasps lightly, momentarily forgetting his tears. 

“Is…is that…” Patton trails off as he looks back up at Remus. 

Remus smiles, “I made it for ya.”

The butterfly plushie flutters and flies over to Patton, sitting on his head. To him, it’s a little blurry due to the lack of glasses on his face, but it gets blurrier for an entirely different reason. 

“Oh, hey,” Remus’ voice dips into soothing, though naturally scratchy. “There ya go, little cub, just like that.”

Patton sniffles as he finally cries, breath stuttering slightly. He holds his teddy bear with one hand as he extends the free one towards Remus. The Duke glady scoops their companion up into their lap, bundled in blankets, holding a bear and becoming a perch for an affectionate butterfly. 

“It’s—it’s for me? Really?” Patton asks wetly. 

“Yeah, little cub. It’s for you,” Remus murmurs into his hair as they ease Patton into resting his cold nose in the crook of their neck. 

“Alive?”

“It’s gotta hug ya, somehow.”

“Hug—wait, what?”

“Yeah, hug ya. Wings get big and they hug you.”

As if waiting for a cue, the little butterfly’s wings enlarge to be big enough to wrap around Patton. It flutters and lands on the moral Side’s back, engulfing as much of him as it can with its wings. Soft and warm and slightly weighted to feel real. Patton lets slip a sob that Remus coos comfortingly at. 

“It’s good, R’mus, it’s—it’s—” Patton stumbles through words as he sniffles again. 

“I got it, cub, I know. Now, ya got another buddy to help ya not feel so sad, hm?” 

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, Pat-Pat. Anytime.”

Patton buries himself into Remus’ chest, breathing calmer with the butterfly hugging him. It’s like getting cuddled on both fronts, a reassuring weight that grounds him. 

It takes a few minutes before Patton stops crying, and even longer for him to sag against the Duke. 

“What’s, um...does it have a name?” he mumbles with heavy eyes. 

“Nah, ya name it. Couldn’t think of one,” Remus answers, resting a rest against Patton’s hair. 

“Mm…really? You didn’t think of anything?”

“Nope! Wanted you to have fun with it.”

“Oh…um, hm. Maybe Melissa? I like that name.”

“It’s a good name. Melissa the butterfly, it shall be known.”

Patton giggles at Remus’ dramatics. 

“It’s nice.”

“Yeah, I bet, Pattie.”

“Mm.”

“Just make sure Melissa doesn’t get water on it. It doesn’t like it, and it’ll spit acid at someone.”

“Remus!”

“What?”

Patton pouts as Remus snorts, but he can’t keep the pout on because the next moment, he chuckles. 

“Thanks for cheering me up, Remus.”

“Eh, someone’s gotta care for ya, yeah? We all do, but I called dibs.”

It makes Patton smile as Melissa gurgles a noise of contentment. 

“Why does it make that noise?”

“Haha, what noise—”

“Remus—”At the very least, Patton’s feeling better with his new plushie buddy, even if it does make weird noises.

Taglist: @lost-in-thought-20 @thegoldenduckie @not-sure-what-im-feeling

[lurkingshan]

Shan! One of the things that I’ve loved learning during my Old GMMTV Challenge project is discovering filmmakers and watching through their project lists. Do you follow specific directors or screenwriters for Asian dramas? If so, who are they, and why? And which dramas of their do you recommend?

A fun one, and an area where I know we actually differ in our approach. In short, my answer to your first question is yes, but also no. :)

By which I mean, I generally do pay attention to who creates the shows I watch, because when I am impressed or infuriated by a drama I like to know who is behind it so I can look into their other work, either to pursue or avoid it. Sometimes I have to go looking for that information, but there are some creators who have such an obvious style that it sets them apart and makes it near impossible to miss the connections between their shows (Kim Eun Sook in kdrama, Aof Noppharnach and Jojo Tichakorn in tbl, Hwang Da Seul in kbl, Lin Pei Yu in twbl, etc). With those I might start something unknowingly and then be like wait a minute is this X’s work? I do maintain awareness and keep creators’ other works in mind when I watch something new because it's fun to look for themes across a body of work, and frankly, to know where the pitfalls are likely to come in.

That said, I do not feel any need to be a completist about any one auteur's resume, I don’t intentionally sit down to watch a creator's work in an organized way, and I actually prefer not to know that much about their personal lives, because I like to focus on the fictional stories without too much real world gunk getting in the way and clouding my reads. I am a "let the art speak for itself" girlie; I'm less interested in authorial intent than in allowing stories breathing room to be interpreted by the audience. I do believe in the Death of the Author school of thought and I don't think it's great when creators try to do too much to control how their work is perceived. One of my current beefs with the Only Friends watch experience is that there is so much real world gunk (branded pairs, shipping and actor stanning, creators posting on social media with context that is not included in the actual canon) getting in the way and messing with interpretations of the show.

Once you get into a fandom at all you will inevitably be exposed to a ton of this kind of thing whether you like it or not. And it comes up a lot in bl because so many shows are adapted from pre-existing source material and rely on known actor pairs, which inevitably affects discourse because people come to these shows with a lot of baggage even before they begin. But I am always interested in story first. I dove into I Feel You Linger in the Air and Absolute Zero with zero hesitation because timey wimey soulmate shit is my jam, not because these shows were made by Tee Bundit and New Siwaj (in fact that would be more of a deterrent than anything if I let it dictate my viewing choices).

So while I am interested in the undercurrent of melancholy across Aof's works, and Jojo's devotion to messy ensemble pieces where everyone is a little bit of an asshole, and Kim Eun Sook's uncanny ability to tap into the zeitgeist and create banger after banger across a range of genres, I don't need to know too much about why their areas of focus are important to them or how it relates to their personal experiences. I prefer not to use fiction as a means to psychoanalyze the real people who create it; instead I just try to engage with and appreciate their art as art and afford them respect as creative geniuses without making assumptions about how each work is meant to reflect their real experiences. Understanding some basic demographics about creators (as in, do they have the appropriate lived experiences to be telling the stories they choose) is about as far as my curiosity goes.

Question 1 TL;DR: I do like to pay attention to who creates the shows I watch so that I can follow the themes in their work, but I am not interested in following the creators themselves closely.

Question 2: who are the creators I recommend following? I have mentioned a lot of them above, and my overall recommendation is that if you are invested in a show, you should look to see who writes and directs it, not just who stars in it. Actors are of course important but usually it's the creative team behind them that really makes or breaks a drama, because they are the ones ultimately in control of the story. Having that grounding can be really helpful for setting expectations and in interpreting and processing what you watch, and also just for helping you find more of the kind of thing you will probably like. I’m extremely glad, for instance, that I watched Gay OK Bangkok before Only Friends, because it gave me a framework for understanding the themes they were likely to dig into. I also just finished watching Rainless Love in a Godless Land, which I was interested in due in large part to it sharing the same screenwriter as my all time favorite Taiwanese drama, Someday or One Day, and being able to pull out the similar themes and ideas across the two projects made it all the more interesting for me.