#why does seemingly no one sort by genre?

[getinthehandbasket]

My books are first sorted by genre (like a library), then by author, then series-in-publication-order. If I have multiple stand-alone books by a single author, they get put in alphabetical order.

[shhhhimwatchingthis]

Sort of bums me out that so many people didn't seem to Get the Cat King so here are my thoughts:

So let's start with Edwin's crime. He uses something the cat desires (a sardine) to lure the cat to him and then uses an enchanted string to trap the cat with magic. He demands the answer to a question in exchange for its release. Edwin knows it is dangerous to use magic on a cat, that it violates Rules but he does it anyway.

Binding a creature and agreeing to set them free under a certain condition is very Classic Fairytale. its also a favourite trope of Neil Gaiman's (he did not write this show but his influence is there). In both the Sandman and his novel Stardust (and the film adaptation) trapping a creature with magic and demanding a task/favour in exchange for their freedom is an extremely important plot point. Edwin binding a cat and demanding an answer in exchange is exactly in line with this Fairytale trope

And so is the Cat Kings response. The Cat King is a trickster. What he does to Edwin is exactly what Edwin did to one of his subjects. He entices Edwin, he binds him with magic and when Edwin demands to be free he turns his own words against him "why all the fuss for one little spell?" Edwin did something wrong. He imposed his will/magic on another creature and the Cat King is punishing him for it in a way that is poetic. Its fairytale. its trickster. its classic.

I've also seen people complain that the task Edwin was given 'count all the cats' is 'impossible'...except its fucking not. Edwin does it. He does it so well he actually BEATS the Cat King ("you didn't count yourself" Are.You.Kidding.Me. Classic!Fairytale!Vibes!)

The Cat Kings choice to bind Edwin to Port Townsend is good on so many levels. From a storytelling perspective it forces characters who can travel anywhere in the world to stay in one place, and increases the stakes for these characters who are supposed to be on the run. From a genre perspective...its an excellent use of fairytale tropes using both Rules of magic, a protagonist who is unkind to a seemingly weak creature who is punished by a more powerful law, a binding, a task to complete, etc

Which just leaves the character perspective which it ALSO does really fucking well and introduces the final aspect to the Cat Kings character. He's seductive. He is responsible for Edwin, 100 years old ghost boy, finally unpacking his internalized homophpbia. he is the catalyst (cat pun not intended)

He pushes Edwin, challenges him, at times literally forces the truth out of Edwin, but he really never does violate his consent. Significantly Edwin is attracted to him, like its an important part of his character that he is. He may not like the Cat King but he is attracted to him!

The Cat King is such a great example of a trickster, a morally grey character who imposes a sense of justice on Edwin after he crosses a line, but also has his own selfish interests and meddles. Hes so important to the plot of the show, to Edwin's character arc, to the genre.

And he's just fun. Unapologetically queer, powerful, complicated. Silly little outfits. Petty cat behavior. Deep heart.

Some of you just didn't get it. And I'm sorry for you. because the Cat King is Excellent actually.

[parfaitblogs]

state of grace ❀ s. reid x reader

in which your cat has taken liking to your friend with benefits, and you begin to battle with the consequential feelings. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff (18+ for suggestive content) tags: established friends with benefits. reader has a cat. your cat likes him more than you :(  avoidant!reader for like a teensie second. it's okay happy ending. the happiest possible ending actually. fade to black. word count: 1.9k a/n: sometimes the most beautiful poetry can be about simple things. like a cat. :) im a dog person. idk why i wrote this.

Seventeen times.

That is how many times Spencer Reid had found residence at your apartment in the past month alone, taking up the space on the other side of your bed. Thirteen of those times he had stayed the night. Six of those times, he had come for sex. The other eleven? He had come because you needed a friend. 

Or, rather, your cat did. 

You had discovered you weren't any more complex than your average man, at the end of the day. Human beings are at their core created to love and be loved, and by extension, to want and be wanted. You wanted Spencer, and you were wanted by Spencer. For both your friendship, and the intimacy your relationship provided. 

But you did not love him, and he did not love you. 

Cat's are anything but fickle creatures. A lot of your best friendships were centred around whether or not your cat developed a liking to the person or not. Oftentimes, your fleeting relationships came down to the odd sixth sense the animal had for disliking the worst people. That, and your one night stands were never a crowd favourite within the walls of your apartment. And yet; Spencer Reid. 

He was nothing short of charming. In a sort of dorky way, yes. But whatever socially romantic skills he lacked, he most certainly made up for by giving you the best of just about everything in bed. A small part of you wants to claim it's human instinct to know how to worship the person meant for you, but the logical reason is probably his eidetic memory knowing exactly what he's doing after a singular trial run. Entertaining the thought of being his soulmate was not a wise choice.

He most certainly was your cat's, though. The Ragdoll always jumping down to greet him the second he stepped foot in your apartment, usually resulting in the break of a kiss and a five minute intermission before the two of you could do anything. 

At first, it was an inconvenience. Your cat had never taken such a liking to a person you'd brought home before, and it was jarring to watch a man you were partially trying to undress, stop everything to pet your cat. Now, it is simply endearing. You've stopped trying to steal Spencer's attention before the cat does, and you've come to the conclusion that Spencer's priority list will always be the feline, then you. 

Today was, seemingly, no different. Despite the dull ache between your legs and the fact that this visit had started as something as obscene as Spencer calling from his work bathroom to ask if he could come over after for he was, and you quote, in dire need to touch you (among many other things), whatever those needs were, were put on hold. 

You smile regardless, leaning against the edge of your couch as he crouches down to meet Po — yes, like the panda — his hand immediately reaching out for the cat to run his head along. 

Spencer's head lifts to look at you. "Morgan thinks Po isn't a real cat, and we've just got a name for your—um—" his brain catches up to his mouth mid sentence, and he's stammering his way to silence. 

"Please tell me you defended my cat's honour," you retort.

"I did! I even showed him the photo I took of him while you were in the shower last week. He thinks it's a different person's cat."

You shake your head in disapproval. "Unbelievable. Your coworker thinks we've named my pussy."

"That's just Morgan."

"I wish Po could speak English. Then he could hear this nonsense, and stop loving you more than me," you grumble, and Spencer's lips twitch up into a smile, as he situates himself on the floor, the cat climbing into his lap.

"Actually, he technically can. Cat's can understand up to thirty-five words in whatever language you train them in. Also, when they meow, they begin trying to mimic the sound of certain human words. It's their vocal tract that prevents them from literally speaking English," he explains.

But, you're too invested in the way his long fingers are delicately running through the cat's hair, to both respond, and really pay any attention at all.

You had had fleeting thoughts about real feelings for Spencer two months ago. Brushing them off as loneliness and your need to satiate the hopeless romantic within you, you'd forgotten about it up until this recent week.

He'd been over every single day, sometimes for sex, oftentimes for a movie and dinner (which was usually a bowl of pasta you had overestimated while cooking). And every single time, you'd developed an overwhelming anxious pit in your stomach when watching him interact with Po, your heart fluttering the entire time, mind running rampant on domestic thoughts you should be squashing. 

Should be, but weren't. 

You'd tried to put it down to the motherly instinct you had over the animal. Seeing somebody else treat him with as much love and care as you did was endearing — it wasn't a Spencer Reid specific trait. Yet, here you were. 

"I feel like the benefits of this relationship have changed," you say, seating yourself in front of Spencer on the floor, Po lifting his head to look at the person behind the sudden movement, before he let it rest back on Spencer's thigh. 

"To what?"

"My cat," you huff, and Spencer laughs.

"He is my favourite benefit thus far," he muses. 

"The feeling is definitely mutual," you nod your head to Po, whose eyes were now shut, seemingly quite comfortable disregarding all your personal plans and taking Spencer's attention.

"Animals don't usually like me," he comments. "I don't know why Po is different."

Oh, you had a few ideas why.

"Maybe he's exercising the keep your enemies closer life motto," you offer, and Spencer's eyebrows shoot up in faux offence. 

"This is unadulterated love," he protests. "He does not think of me as an enemy."

"That's what he wants you to believe," you hum, pushing yourself up on your legs. "Well, since plans have been rudely interrupted, do you want some dinner?" 

"Sure," he answers, though his attention is back on Po. Clearly so, for he says, "I'll get to our original plans after we eat, don't worry," almost absentmindedly.

It's the kind of thing that makes you forget you're in the room with the dictionary definition of a nerd. You know it's only because sometimes he says what he is thinking without thinking. It doesn't do anything to help the ongoing internal battle about your feelings for him. 

Or maybe he does know exactly what he's doing.

"You should get a cat," you say, heading into your kitchen to find something for the two of you to eat. "You seem to like them enough."

"Why? I have yours."

"I'm not going to be around forever," you reply, unthinking. "I mean, one day we're gonna have to end this because the other has found someone they want to be with. Properly. It wouldn't be fair to keep a friendship."

He falls silent, and when you lift your head, you see he's staring at you with an almost confused frown on his face, which triggers your own confusion to appear. His scratching of Po's head has been interrupted, and you're starting to question what was wrong about what you had said. 

Sure, you're pretty sure you have feelings for him, but as far as you knew, they were one sided. Right?

"I didn't—I thought—" he cuts himself off, takes a deep breath, then continues. "I thought that had changed this past month."

"What do you mean?"

"I just—I've been here for things other than sex a lot. I thought you knew I liked you, and you were subtly trying to tell me you liked me too. I'm starting to sense I misread that."

For a profiler, he was incredibly awful at reading you. 

"Yeah..." You slowly nod your head, but it's the deepening of his frown that has you rushing to add, "I mean, I—I do. Like you. I'm kind of embarrassed that was obvious. But I didn't think you liked me outside of having sex with me. I wasn't trying to communicate my feelings. I was trying to hide them."

"Oh," he falls silent again. "So the times I’ve been here in the past month weren’t makeshift dates?"

"They weren't intended that way..." you trail off. "Did you see them as dates?"

"Kind of, I guess," he's back to running his fingers through Po's fur, just to keep his anxious hands busy. "They don't have to be, if you don't want them to. I just thought this feeling was mutual and we were... I guess, dating."

"The feeling is mutual," you quickly correct him. "I know that now. I didn't think we were dating because I didn't think you liked me back. Changing our relationship kind of needs to be a conversation."

"Right," he breathes out, an awkward smile painting his lips. "Is this the conversation, then?"

"I guess?"

"So now we're dating."

"If that's what you want," you nod, head feeling a little fuzzy.

"Is it what you want?" he presses. Always the gentleman.

"Maybe," you muse, leaning forwards against the kitchen countertop. 

He's watching you, and for a second you let the silence fall over you, fearful that you've just discouraged him enough to ruin things between you. He carefully takes Po off his lap, the cat running into your room the second his paws hit the hardwood floor, and he's standing up to move over to you. 

"I don't like maybe," he frowns. "Yes or no?"

You blink, realising he was evidently too anxious of your genuine response to have any recognition to your poor attempt of a joke. 

"Yes, Spencer. That's what I want," you're breathless as you speak, and you're thankful for the relieved smile that stretches across his lips.

"That's what I want too," he answers. 

"Yeah, I figured." Your second attempt at a tease lands, and he huffs a small laugh, which warms your heart. "Do you still want dinner?"

He had somehow gotten closer to you throughout the awkward enough conversation, and he was sliding his arms around your waist. Something he had done many times before, yes, and yet this time it was feeling much more intimate, and your heart was thrumming against your chest a little harder than usual. 

"Maybe it can wait?" he offers, ducking his head down, lips ghosting over your own. "I don't have a bothersome cat keeping me preoccupied from you, now."

Despite yourself, you poke a finger into his chest and say, "Don't insult Po."

"I'm not. Just merely stating an obvious fact."

"I'll call him back in here to preoccupy me."

"He has selective hearing. And he likes me more than you."

Your lips drop into a frown, lower lip jutting out, and Spencer is quick to try and kiss it off within seconds of noticing it. 

"I'm sorry. That was mean. I promise he doesn't like me more than you," he says, though his voice is too amused to be entirely sincere. 

"That was mean," you agree with a firm nod. "You're very mean to me, Spencer Reid."

"I know, I'm awful. Can I make it up to you, sweet girl?"

Well, when he asks you like that.

"Mm..." you hesitate, but he's already guiding you around, walking you backwards, through your apartment and towards your bedroom. "Yeah, I guess so."

Hands that were around your waist hike your shirt up, his lips still kissing against your skin despite the intense multitasking he was forcing upon the two of you.

"Thank you."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[empress-simps]

Heart Chaser

Pairing: James Potter x Reader CW: Grumpy reader, James getting injured, and Language. Genre: Fluff Summary: James tries to woo you over many times before, with what he does best- being a showoff and with a promise of a hogsmeade date if they win the quidditch tournament

Note: James is a certified simp. This is a self-indulgent one shot, enjoy reading!

James was stupid- it goes without saying. Stupidly in love with you, who wants nothing to do with him. He always greets you with his charming smile, you greet him back with a scowl or a sneer just for him.

He was like a stubborn gum stuck in the bottom of your shoes that you have a hard time getting rid of.

“Is he hit in the head? Why is he doing fucking flips when he could make our house win?” You scowl, arms folding over your chest as he whizzes near you, sending a wink your way. The other girls around you squealed, thinking it was for them as giggles and whispers surrounded you. If anything, you were quite the contrary. If you could puke, you probably would’ve already done it by now.

“Hm, Black is quite a good player. Quite better than their stupid captain who just knows how to show off.” You commented on seeing Sirius Black swinging his bat to hit the incoming bludger that was aimed at James, effectively protecting the chaser. Her friends, Mary and Marlene looked at each other, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Fancy dating a beater rather than a chaser, huh?”

Marlene teased while Mary chuckled, trying not to show her amusement to the annoyed you. “Right, so if I compliment a boy on his quidditch skills that means I’m madly in love with him? Great.” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you redirected your attention to the game.

“Oh come on, we were just teasing you, Y/n!” Mary pokes your side playfully, “I should’ve just let the sorting hat put me in Slytherin, that way I wouldn’t have to deal with you both.”

“Oh sod off, Y/n. You were pissing your pants in fear in front of older Slytherin students in our first year.” Marlene snickers, dodging your attempts to get to her as Mary tries to block you from actually hitting her.

“Why you little- “

“…And the Gryffindor team wins!”

Cheers erupted from your side as you widened your eyes in surprise. There he was, James Potter got off his broom as Sirius started to carry him on his shoulders, their teammates surrounding them. James met your eyes and smiled (quite stupidly in your opinion) sending a wink your way which made a sour look appear on your face. What a showoff.

“C’mon, game’s over. I don’t want to see Pothead’s face more than what’s necessary.” You grabbed them both and left the quidditch pitch. Marlene protested at first, but then immediately tried to persuade you into joining the common room party that night.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” You waved her off, wanting Marlene to shut up and forget what you said. Oh, how wrong you were.

Which placed you in your current position, Marlene and Mary basically dragged you to the common room where you saw people drunk, dancing, or snogging. “Stay here, Y/n!” We’ll be back!” Marlene giggled, as she and Mary went off to Merlin-knows-where. You felt stupid and out of place, so you just stuck to the side and watched the scenes in front of you unfold.

“Didn’t think you were the type to attend parties like this.” A chuckle was heard, looking in the direction of the voice, you saw Remus, leaning against the wall much like what you are doing. You let out a scoff, “Marlene and Mary left to go snog some random people,” He lets out a laugh, “I figured. Would you like some butterbeer?” He offers, you shake your head politely. “It’s alright, I do love some firewhisky.” You joked, his eyebrows shot up in amusement and surprise as Sirius neared you both, seemingly heard your conversation.

“You’re quite surprising, Y/n! No wonder you got Prongs wrapped around your finger.” Sirius had his famous grin plastered on his face, handing you a shot of Olgden’s Old firewhisky. Your eyebrows narrowed suspiciously at Sirius, who urged you to take it. Just where did he even get that and how did he manage to sneak it in?

 “What’s life without a little risk?”

“Don’t even think about giving that to her, Padfoot.”

Like a knight in shining armor, James seemed to pop out of nowhere, getting in between you and Sirius, giving his best friend a disapproving look. Sirius grins sheepishly, raising one arm up in mock surrender, “Alright, Prongsie. Sorry dove! Next time, alright?” Sirius looked at you, winking and running off to somewhere before James could whack him. Remus follows Sirius closely behind to ensure he doesn’t do anything too stupid.

“Thanks, Potter.” You practically forced yourself to utter those words to the boy who had a quite lovestruck look on his face.

“Anything for you, Y/n.”

“Alright, I’ve had enough. Goodbye, congratulations on your win.” You sneered, trying to ignore the blush creeping in your cheeks at the obviously lovestruck James, who seemed to snap out of his trance. “H-hold on!” He grabs your wrist gently, stopping you.

“If we win the next game, let’s go to Hogsmeade.”

Alright, you weren’t expecting that. You stilled, trying to fight the stupid butterflies that started to appear in your tummy. What is happening to you? Did you find James attractive suddenly? This needs to be stopped, at least you hope it will.

“No- “

“Y/n, please! I won’t even pass notes to you anymore in class just to get us both in detention!” He pleads, you must admit that he looks quite cute. Raising an eyebrow, you tried to fight off the amused smirk threatening to make its way on your lips. “So, you’re admitting that you did that so we can spend detention together?” You should’ve whacked him upside the head and be annoyed but strangely, you find it, dare you say- adorable.

James scratched the back of his neck, he was caught. “Erm… So, is that a yes?” You clicked your tongue, “Win the game first then we’ll talk.”

“It seems like the Gryffindor’s Captain is in high spirits today!”

You hear the commentator’s voice rang throughout the cheering crowd. Crossing your arms, you observed James, his demeanor is quite different from last time. He’s more serious than ever, barely even showing off or sending a quick your way when he flies close next to you. It was a huge difference, not that you were bummed out about it (which you secretly are.)

Marlene snickered, noticing your reaction. “Why the long face? Potter not paying attention to you?”

“Sod off, Marlene.” You grumbled, shoving her lightly making her laugh. “Hey! So it’s true! Mary, Potter managed to woo our Y/n- “ You glared at her, a hint of blush dusting your cheek. “I can only tolerate so much, Marls.”

The banter was cut short when you heard gasps and the commentator’s alarmed voice was heard. “It appears that James Potter was knocked off his broom by Ravenclaw’s beater, and he’s falling quite fast! Someone get Madame Pomfrey!”

You paled, mouth turning dry as your eyes searched frantically at the enormous quidditch pitch, feeling your stomach drop as you saw James freefall to the ground quickly.  “No…” Luckily, someone managed to make his fall to the ground a bit less dangerous by turning the ground into a putty-like texture. Biting your lip nervously, you wince as James landed with a loud thud.

He wheezed, lying on the ground, and holding his arm that was probably broken. “Merlin, that actually hurts.” He looks around, shutting his eyes in embarrassment. Out of all the places he could have fallen in, it just simply had to be in front of where you sat. James can already hear you rejecting him taking you out this Saturday.

Rushing to the Hospital Wing, you opened the doors with a loud thud, not caring if you disturbed other patients as you made a beeline to James who was talking with the rest of Marauders.

“You dumb oaf! How could you possibly lose balance in your own broom?!” You furrowed you eyebrows as you saw James visibly wince, feeling ashamed, he looked down at his arm cast. Mary places a hand on your shoulder as Marlene casts an apologetic look towards the boys.

“How will I say yes to your stupid little Hogsmeade date if you’re injured?” You ‘tsked’, crossing your arms in front of your chest, ignoring everyone’s surprised reaction. Sirius whistled, already slapping James on the back as Remus widened his eyes, Peter had his mouth open in shock and your friends stared at you in surprise, looking like you just grew another head.

James quickly looked up at you, eyes beaming with happiness as a dopey smile made its way on his face. “You… you agree?” He bit his lip, trying to contain his excitement. You raised your eyebrows, a small amused smile settling on your face. “I don’t know you’re that daft, but yes. I’ll go on a date with you Potter.”

Everyone around you cheered quietly as Madame Pomfrey sent a warning glare to your group. James grins, leaning in your direction as he looks at you. “Brilliant.” His voice is a soft murmur, only meant for you. Madame Pomfrey’s glare dissolves into a knowing smile as she turns away, giving you both a moment of privacy.

James had a way of capturing people’s hearts by just being himself, he even managed to capture yours- and he doesn’t even think about letting it go.

[heartseungs-archive]

lucky strike | l.dh

word count: 2.3k | genre: arcade employee! haechan, high school au, (sort of?) f2l, mc and hc are very cute | warnings: none

Haechan notices you the moment you step foot into the arcade. After all, it’s not every day that his crush walks into his workplace, unaccompanied and teary-eyed. You stick out like a sore thumb amongst the neon red and blues of the pinball machines, pristine white shoes thudding against the cement floor which hasn’t been cleaned in years.

He hasn’t had the opportunity to speak to you much, considering the both of you are in entirely different social circles. However, he does know you’re a responsible class representative and someone who never hesitates to greet him with a smile in the morning, which he shyly returns. His friends have teased him endlessly for the way he seemingly becomes mute when you approach, his cheeks always heating up. Haechan is extroverted, but he supposes even he becomes withdrawn in the presence of your warmth and friendliness.

Which is why the unfamiliar sight of you crying immediately sends a pang to his heart, but he’s not entirely sure how to approach you without making the situation become uncomfortable. You likely want solitude, and it’s the least Haechan can do to let you have it, both as a well-behaved employee and an almost-friend.

It’s a quiet weekday at the arcade, and Haechan’s eyes follow you as you move from the token machine to a few different games, until you finally settle on the fishing one. Throughout, your expression remains unchanged, even though you occasionally sniffle slightly.

Fuck it, Haechan thinks. Before he knows it, he’s made his way over to you, and he knows how clear the difference is between the both of you. While Haechan wouldn’t call himself a delinquent, he’s definitely not the model student you are. He’s had one or two tardies this semester, and his red Converse is definitely not in line with attire rules. Still, you light up at the sight of him, a wobbly smile making its way onto your face.

“Oh, Haechan-ah. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Haechan wants to say that your appearance here is even more unexpected, but instead, he rubs the back of his head nervously. “I work here.” Your mouth drops open in a silent ‘o’ of understanding, and he can’t help but think it’s one of the cutest things he’s seen.

“You shouldn’t play at the same seat. You’ll have a higher chance of winning if you switch the player more often,” Haechan blurts out. He’s afraid of allowing the silence to become too awkward, and so he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet anxiously.

You raise your eyebrows at that. “Really? I didn’t think it made a difference. Thankfully you work here. Do you want to sit and play with me?”

“Huh?” Haechan’s eyes widen, slightly taken aback. You’re asking him?

“Sorry, I forgot that you must be busy considering you work here. Please don’t let me disturb you.” Your cheeks are red from slight embarrassment, and you’re mentally kicking yourself for even making that ridiculous request. He must have just wanted to say hello. Now you’ve put him in a spot, Y/N.

He shakes his head fervently, so hard that it startles you. “No, I’m not busy at all. I’d love to. Besides, if I play with you, we can get more tickets.” Haechan immediately pulls a chair over, and you pass him your stack of tokens. The both of you play a few games, enough for you to realize that Haechan is much better at this than you are.

However, when you remark on his skills, he shrugs nonchalantly. “I used to play this every day when I was a kid.” Your eyes widen, and you grin a little. “Really? Me too!”

“Well, you’re quite bad at it for someone who says she plays often,” he teases, and you roll your eyes. ‘Okay, whatever you say.”

It’s interesting how rapidly your mood lightened the moment Haechan appeared, a wide smile on your face compared to your previously glum expression.

He clears his throat then, eyes shifting around. “What is it?” You ask, looking around as well.

“I just…sorry. This might be a bit too nosy of me. You don’t have to reply or anything. But your eyes were a little red when you came in. Are you alright?” The genuine concern in Haechan’s voice is surprising to you, considering the nature of your acquaintance. However, his doe-brown eyes are earnest as they stare into yours, and you find your gaze escaping to your feet, which tap on the floor nervously out of habit.

A small laugh escapes you, and you nod. “Yeah. It was just a bad argument with my parents. You know how it is. I just came here because I needed a distraction.” Haechan nods, sympathizing with your situation. If anything, he finds his fondness for you growing. The way that you’re so kind and welcoming to everyone at school, and to him, even if you’re having a bad day.

“Well, feel free to drop by whenever. Though preferably on weekdays, since that’s when I work. The other guy, Jaemin, is really strict about tickets. I’ll throw in freebies for you though.”

Haechan’s words allow your smile to grow even brighter, and he feels a sense of pride in seeing the way your shoulders gradually become less sunken and a familiar twinkle returning to your eye.

Suddenly, he gets up from where he’s sitting, causing your eyes to fix curiously on him.

“I’ve got a place to show you. Come on.” You immediately get up to follow after Haechan, who winds past the claw machines and basketball hoops to a more isolated part of the arcade.

A faded wooden sign dangles above the capsule machines, neatly lined up in rows . The light barely reaches this side of the arcade, and Haechan turns on a lightbulb that flickers precariously in the smaller space. Compared to the almost-deafening noises outside, this feels almost therapeutic in some way.

“MBTI Fortunes? I haven’t seen this in a while,” you mutter in mild surprise.

“This is one of my favourite sections. Try it.” You immediately head over to the roller machine and turn the knob, stainless metal cool against your fingers. Barely seconds later, the familiar sight of a red ball rolling gently down the chute enters your vision, before it lands neatly in your hand.

You tilt your head towards Haechan. “You try it too,” you say, smiling. So he’s an ENFP, you think, as he walks over. It makes sense, you suppose. Haechan’s definitely extroverted from the way he acts with his friends, and he’s constantly the center of attention. If anything, you wish you had more of his effortless confidence. There’s no way you could ever approach someone like he did. But you’re impossibly grateful for his presence.

“Should we open it?” He says, throwing the red ball up and catching it smoothly as he makes his way back over to you.

It takes a while, but the both of you eventually manage to twist the capsule open, unrolling the tiny folded piece of paper. Haechan holds it up to the light, squinting to read the writing.

“Take a chance. It just might be a lucky strike,” he mutters, humming in thought.

However, your voice rings out much clearer than his and causes Haechan to pause. “A heart-fluttering event will happen to you today.” You clear your throat nervously, cheeks immediately reddening. Right now, there’s only one person in mind, and he’s standing right in front of you.

“Ah…don’t get too bothered by it. These are all just random anyways.” Haechan is perturbed by the slight stutter in his voice, the way his pulse is speeding up, and how he’s unable to look at you for too long. It’s just because you’re pretty, he thinks. It’s not good to look at pretty people for too long, or his ego will be hurt.

When the both of you make your way back to the main area of the arcade, the silence becomes awkward, but it’s an almost endearing sight. You fiddle with your fingers, but you’re unaware of the fact that Haechan is the exact same.

“Well, thank you for today. That was fun. I should let you get back to work. I’ll see you in school?” You mumble, a faint smile on your face. Haechan nods eagerly. “Yeah. I'll see you.” He wonders if he’ll be able to strike up the same conversation in school. He thinks this is the longest time he's ever interacted with you, and he hopes it isn’t the last.

Haechan can’t help but feel slightly forlorn as he watches you make your way towards the exit of the arcade, red capsule ball in hand. His work is going to feel much longer without your presence. His eyes inevitably drift to the piece of paper that he, for some mysterious reason, hasn't yet thrown away. Take a chance, it says. Haechan's a spontaneous person. The most spontaneous one he knows, actually. Still, he finds it a bit hard to make rash decisions when it comes to you. Maybe it’s because your work is written in neat, clean lines while his is more of a legible scribble. Or that your stationery is neatly categorized in the same color while Haechan’s is more of a haphazard rainbow.

Still, he hopes you’ll accept the slightly disorganized mess that is him.

“Jaemin’s going to kill me for this,” he complains, as he makes his way towards the area containing all of the redeemable prizes. Still, he thinks it’s a worthy tradeoff, facing the wrath of the grumpy blue-haired man who acts like he’s so much older than Haechan when he’s just a college student.

You’re just about to turn a street when you hear the thundering of footsteps on cobblestone behind you, and you’re quick to turn around, alarmed. Haechan almost crashes into you, out of breath and face flushed.

“Haechan? Is something wrong?” There is evident alarm on your face, and Haechan shakes his head vehemently. Just then, you look down at what he’s holding in his hands and let out a slight laugh.

“Did you run all the way here…for this?” You ask.

“Yeah. It’s…for you.” Haechan extends out the Cinnamoroll plushie to you, an expression of anticipation on his face. You take it from him, smoothing your hand over its fluffy ears. A certain sense of warmth fills you. Maybe this was the heart-fluttering event the paper mentioned. Because you’re quite sure that your pulse is now fluttering wildly as you look at Haechan.

“Thank you. But how did you get it? I definitely didn’t have enough tickets for this.” There's a curious glint in your eyes, and Haechan lets out a little scoff.

“Well, I have some benefits as an arcade employee, I suppose,” he says nonchalantly. What he doesn't tell you is that he's now in crippling debt to Jaemin, and will likely spend much more money winning the tickets to pay it off than if he just bought you the plushie.

Seeing the radiant smile on your face only encourages Haechan to make another rash decision. Maybe he’ll fall flat on his face, but he wants to at least try.

“My shift ends in an hour. I know a really good tteokbokki place,” he says, the words coming out of him in a rush, and then realises the abruptness of his statement.

You smirk slightly, and it’s an unfamiliar expression to Haechan to see you so playful, but he doesn’t mind it at all.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” Your confidence is sudden, but you find that it comes more easily with Haechan around.

“It can be one. If you want it to be,” Haechan replies immediately. His gaze is much more determined now, and you’re almost intimidated by it. But you refuse to back down, especially when this is everything you’ve ever wanted.

“Okay. It’s a date.” You can’t hide your smile when you say it, and immediately saunter back in the direction of the arcade. Haechan, who still can’t wrap his head about the reality of the situation, automatically follows you. His crush agreed to go on a date with him. You, Y/N, model student and the girl who Haechan thinks has the most beautiful smile he's ever seen in his life, has agreed to eat tteokbokki with him. It's a small start, but a start nonetheless.

“Wait, actually? Also, why are you going back to the arcade?” He asks, confused.

You hold up the soft toy, not even looking back. “Apparently, someone’s in debt. I should return the favor, right?” Oh fuck, I said that out loud. You don’t bother to reply his first question, and Haechan’s quite sure he looks rather ridiculous with how big his smile is.

When the both of you are back, you immediately make a beeline for the fishing game again, looking even more committed to it than previously. The soft toy is placed gently in your lap, and you occasionally hug it unconsciously. Haechan's heartbeat has finally slowed down from it's breakneck pace, but he thinks the fondness he feels at the sight of you is an even more exhilarating feeling.

You’re his lucky strike, he thinks, and he'll gladly take as many chances as needed for you.

[mirkwdmstrss]

the sun had already risen

summary: gil-galad offers words of comfort to ease your anxieties; a brief look at his softer side

genre: fluff

pairing: gil galad x reader

word count: 775

The soft white light of morning filters in through the gossamer curtains, chasing away what shadows of night remain. You watch the rise and fall of his chest, though his back is to you; turned away from the rising sun. Even in slumber, he does not seem rested. And why would he, what with the fate of your people and that of all of Middle Earth seemingly hanging in the balance?

“I can feel your eyes on me,” he rumbles, the vibrations of his deep baritone penetrating your contemplative state.

A soft smile graces your lips though you say nothing in turn.

“Hold your tongue all you want,” he quips. “Your gaze is enough to wake a man from the deepest of sleep.” Slowly, he rolls onto his back before turning to look at you. “And yours is one I feel to the depths of my being.”

“Do you, now?”

He smiles and your heart swells. Very seldom do the lips of the High King curve up as of late; the deep crease on his brow softer now, though still prominent acting as a reminder of all he carries.

“It is a good feeling,” he responds, reaching forward to tuck a stray lock of hair behind the shell of your pointed ear. His hand stills on your cheek, cradling it. You lean into its warmth, closing your eyes and savoring the stolen moment.

The mattress sinks as he shifts his weight to prop himself up on his elbow; his keen eyes regarding you fondly. As he does so, the single long, dark braid you’d woven his hair into last night falls over his shoulder. You reach for it, toying with the end of the plait before working your fingers through it unraveling the silken strands. You slip your fingers through his hair, not one tangle to be found as you gently guide them through it. He closes his eyes and murmurs a sound of approval as you do so. You stay like that for a moment, quietly combing your fingers through his hair until it falls in a curtain of black waves about his shoulders and you swear he’s never looked more beautiful than he does now.

Tears well in your eyes and Gil-Galad’s open suddenly, shining with concern.

“What is it, my love?” he whispers as he wipes away a stray tear with the pad of his thumb.

You press your lips together into a semblance of a smile as you curve your fingers around his wrist. “Nothing, do not worry about me.”

His brow furrows as he regards you. “Now what kind of king, what kind of lover, would I be,” he pauses, shifting up into a sitting position. Gently, and with very little effort, he pulls you into his lap to sit between his legs. “If I did not stop that would cause tears to fall from these beautiful eyes.”

You lay your head against his bare chest and feel him drop his chin atop your head as he wraps his arms around you.

“I just,” you hesitate, searching for the words to articulate this feeling deep in your chest. “Are you certain we’re to trust in this strange new power?” You thread your fingers through his, your thumb skirting over the newest ring in his collection; the one crafted by Celebrimbor in Eregion.

“It brought life back to Lindon, did it not?” he answers softly with a kiss against your temple. “Protected our people?”

Tilting your chin to look up at him from beneath your lashes, you search his eyes for some sort of solace as the pit in your chest grows ever deeper. “I cannot help this feeling of dread, like something terrible will come with the rising sun; catching us all ill-prepared and unaware.”

Gil-Galad gently grasps your chin in his hand, turning your face toward the pale morning light. “The sun has already risen, my love.” He drops his hand to the exposed skin of your thigh from where your leg curls around the sheets. “Look at how it shines upon your skin even now; bright and nourishing. There are no horrors to be found lurking in its rays.”

A soft smile plays at the corners of your mouth as you find it harder and harder to dwell on these feelings of sorrow in his comforting embrace. “Have you always the right words to quell a fearful heart?”

He nuzzles in the crook of your neck, his nose skirting against your skin as he presses delicate kisses along the column of your throat before pausing at your ear. “So long as yours is the heart that I protect.”

[stabbyfoxandrew]

i dont know if you are still doing these but!! id love a kiss on the hip for kandrew :) <3

Kevin Day is not a virgin. He understands sex and most of its mechanics. He's slept with a few people in his life, he's also sampled plenty of porn genres.

But none of that compares to this. To having Andrew's full and complete attention. To having Andrew on his back in his bedroom in Columbia. He's not quite sure how they ended up here. Of course, he understands the logistics of getting to Columbia from Palmetto State.

He knows the route they always take, he knows the right exit, he knows how to find Nicky's house.

How he got to this point he's not sure.

All he knows is Andrew and Neil were planning to come here this weekend for a bit of alone time. Just the two of them, no one else to bother them. That's what Kevin thought at least. Until Neil knocked his shoulder into Kevin's side at practice earlier and told him to pack a bag. When Kevin asked why, Neil merely shrugged. "Andrew said to."

Andrew said to. So Kevin did.

Kevin always does what Andrew says. That's how the three of them happened. Six months ago Andrew told Kevin that Neil wanted to kiss him, Kevin kissed him. Andrew watched them make out then announced that he wanted to kiss Kevin, Kevin kissed him.

And now here they all are, spread across Andrew's bed. Neil is sitting cross-legged against the headboard, wearing only his boxers and a tank top. Kevin has been stripped down to his shorts. And Andrew is fully clothed, except for the jacket he shed upon coming into the house, with his head on Neil's thigh. Kevin is hovering over Andrew, not touching him anywhere below the waist. Never touching him below the waist. Never touching him anywhere Andrew doesn't want him to.

"What am I doing now?" Kevin finally asks. Andrew had pulled Kevin over top of him like this a couple minutes ago and Kevin's been sort of frozen since. Because he's not a virgin, but Andrew makes him feel like one. A pair of hazel eyes stares up at him, seemingly bored. The flush on Andrew's cheeks is the only thing that gives him away.

"Whatever you want."

"That's not how it works—"

"It is now. You've graduated, Day. Touch me," Andrew commands. Kevin's hands twitch against the mattress, but he doesn't move them. Not yet.

"Where?"

"Anywhere." Andrew says, the want in his voice making Kevin's breathing catch. It takes a moment for him to process the word. And when he does, he throws himself off the bed. Andrew just stares after him. "Where are you going?"

Kevin sputters and puts his hands in the air. "You can't just change the rules on me like this."

"What rules?" Neil asks.

"The—" Kevin can't believe the question. "Oh, goddamn it, Neil. You know exactly what I'm talking about! I can't go from nothing to something to everything. Not like this. You have to tell me, Andrew. I don't know what—"

"I just told you what." Andrew says, sitting up a bit to look at him. "Anywhere, anything."

Kevin shakes his head. "No."

"No?"

"I don't want to fuck this up."

"You can't fuck it up."

"But—"

"No buts," Andrew interrupts. Kevin's gaze flicks from Andrew's to Neil's, back and forth. Andrew sighs. "Get the fuck over here, Kevin."

Kevin always does what Andrew says.

He moves to settle back over Andrew, propped up on his hands and knees. Andrew reaches for him and grabs the back of Kevin's neck, pulling him down into a kiss. Kevin gasps against his mouth and hears Neil make an appreciative sound, a little hum of a noise, above them. Suddenly there's a hand pushing into Kevin's hair and he knows it's Neil's. Kevin opens his eyes and looks up to meet Neil's eyes. The idiot smiles down at them and Andrew's eyes are closed, his mouth is hot, and... Kevin groans when Andrew fucks his tongue into his mouth.

Kevin moves to slip one hand under Andrew's head and lowers himself onto him, making Andrew exhale against his mouth. They're both half hard, Kevin ruts his hips against Andrew. An experiment that gets a grunt and a nip to his bottom lip.

"Good?" Kevin asks after pulling away a bit.

"Yes. Keep going."

"I want to take your shirt off." Kevin admits. Andrew's expression barely changes, but it does.

"Then do it." Andrew challenges, letting go of Kevin's neck. It takes both of them but Kevin gets the shirt off and drops it beside them. After thinking about it for half a second, he lightly skims a hand up Andrew's side making him shiver. He thinks it's a good sign, but then Neil's leaning in close to his head.

"Firmer, Kev." He whispers.

A hint. A clue from someone who's got years of experience on him. Kevin grabs it and a handful of Andrew's chest, taking Andrew by surprise.

"Really? Groping me, Day?"

"You said anything, didn't you?" Kevin squeezes Andrew's chest and thumbs at his nipple until it's peaked. Then he dips his head back down to press kisses to Andrew's neck. He knows Andrew likes that. It's safe, familiar, good for both of them. Andrew turns his head to the side, likely so he can look at Neil, but Kevin nips his pulse point and Andrew hisses a breath before grabbing him by the nape again and pulling him up like a mother cat does a kitten.

"Do you want me to stop?"

Andrew blinks at him like he's slow. "No. I want you to get on with it."

"You said anything I wanted." Kevin reminds him. "Or are you taking it back?"

"I'm not taking it back."

"Then let me take my time. Want to make you feel good." Kevin returns to Andrew's neck and Andrew's nails scrape against his back. Kevin assumes in appreciation. He nibbles at Andrew's throat until the goalie's breathing is labored, then finally comes up for air. "Can I bite you?"

There's a little spark in Andrew's eyes. Kevin wants to turn it into flame. After a moment, Andrew says 'yes, anything, do you understand the meaning of the word?' and Kevin shuts him up with teeth in the side of Andrew's neck. He sucks a mark there, one that'll bloom purple pedals, then does it again. Again.

He hears a sharp inhale to the side and glances over to see Neil palm himself through his underwear. Andrew tilts his head back to look at Neil and rolls his eyes. 

"How am I not surprised your neck fetish extends to just watching."

At this point in their relationship, or whatever the fuck this is, Kevin thinks Neil has an Andrew fetish. He doesn't say so.

"Keep going." Neil tells him, almost as affected as Andrew. Kevin obliges, kissing and sucking his way down until he's nearing the waistband of Andrew's jeans. He stops there and raises his head to find Andrew glaring at him.

"Neil," Andrew says. "I think we need to get him an English tutor."

That makes Neil laugh and Kevin rolls his eyes, pinches the inside of Neil's thigh. "You can't fault me for wanting to be sure."

"I can and I will. Keep going or get out."

"Alright then. Instead of asking I'll just tell you. I'm going to take your pants off and then I'm going to blow your mind." Kevin decides, suddenly confident despite only giving a few blowjobs in his life. His decree has Andrew's brows raising.

"That so?"

"Yes." Kevin says firmly, making Neil's lips quirk. He eyes Neil for a moment. "Questions, comments, concerns?"

"None. Go." Neil tells him. So Kevin does. He scoots back and makes quick work of Andrew's remaining clothes, save his armbands. He's never seen what lies beneath them and he doesn't want to, because he has a theory and he doesn't want to test it.

Once Andrew's laid almost bare beneath him, Kevin stares. For a lot longer than he'll ever admit. Finally he dips his head and is thrown off course when he notices a freckle he'd never seen before. He detours past Andrew's cock and presses his lips to his hipbone instead. It's a barely-there thing, just a peck. But it makes Neil inhale sharply.

Kevin looks up at him. "What?"

Andrew's eyes flick up to Neil's, then he rolls them. "He's sentimental."

Kevin isn't sure what that means and it must be obvious from the look on his face. Andrew just shakes his head. "This is not a Q&A, get back to what you were doing."

[inumkii]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ how you got together - inumaki x reader

bullet pointed scenario

genre: fluff, f2l

wc: 1.2 ish

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ an: hii this is my first jjk fic!! this might be the only thing i ever post LOLL currently ignoring my massive hiatus on my kpop blog T_T anywayss i wrote this super quickly its prob not the best ;p

i feel like toge would be the type of person to have you make a lot of the first moves

like when you guys were just stupidly pining friends, he made it pretty obvious that he liked you but wanted you to actually confess verbally 

it was mostly because he didn't want such a big milestone of starting your relationship to be texted or written by him but maybe like 20% of it was because he likes to be annoying

he's a little shit so if your the type of person to wait on the other person to make a move, good luck! because he’s making you do it

like there was a point were he was certain about both of ur feelings being mutual so he’d just play it up by being really touchy, making it obvious that he wanted to be right next to you, always clinging to you, etc.. you know,, making it obvious that he really does like you

but poor you because you were spending your time overthinking eveything. maybe he was just really touchyyy!! maybe he's extra comfortable around you!!! (i wonder why.)

it was actually driving your friends insane tho

maki’s last straw was during a training session out on the field, her and panda were sparring as you and inumaki watched on the steps

inumaki, as usual, was glued to your side, hands toying with the fabric of your long sleeve uniform

as maki landed her last hit on panda, you got up with their water bottles and ran them over to your two friends 

toge followed closely behind, still attached to your sleeve

you were balancing both of the bottles in one arm since the other was being occupied as toges leash of some sort, but you approached the other two like nothing was out of place

this sight wasn't anything new to panda or maki so they kept their scoffs and eye rolls internal. it was mostly just driving them crazy that neither one of you had made a move. it was obvious you both liked each other so why aren’t you guys doing anything about it??

“nice one, maki!” you cheered as the two grabbed their respective waters, toge let out an ingredient of affirmation as well

“ah, that was nothing” she proudly boasted, part of it directed as being a playful jab toward panda. she glanced down at inumakis hand attached to the end of your sleeve as he seemingly refused to be more than a few inches apart from you

“anyways,, im planning on grabbing lunch after this, yn, you coming with?” maki turned towards you

“sure!! i didnt have any plans,” you mused and you and maki set off and away from the field, toge still trailing behind as if following you was the obvious route to go

“just me and yn today, inumaki. sorry man,, go do something with panda” maki had no problem brushing off your friend, she was trying to get you alone which was something that seemed more rare as days go by (cough cough toge let maki have some time with her friend)

he laughed and backed away in compliance before giving your shoulder a quick squeeze as the four of you split off

once he was out of earshot, maki finally groaned

“you need to make a move already, its so frustrating watching you two cling to each other without doing anything about it” she complained as you felt your face heat up

you were well aware of toge’s touchiness and couldn't ignore his potential intentions behind it,, but yet there was this looming fear of actually enacting a confession that stopped you from going further 

“do you think he really likes me?” you asked pathetically. anyone’s answer would’ve been a loud yes,, but you still felt like you had to ask maki for some semblance of confidence 

she stared at you, an incredulous look breaching her face

“i cant believe you're asking me that question” she scoffed out a laugh, “but since you need to hear it. yes, toge inumaki is one hundred percent in love with you”

she left it at that, causing a permanent fluster to torment you for the rest of lunch

your lunch with maki had left you a little more confident about where you stood with toge, however. she had begged you to do something about it soon, claiming she couldn’t bear to witness any more pining

you had to do something about it soon or else you’d continue to sleep on her advice, overthink it, and never do anything about your problem,,,, it was now or never

you shot a text over to toge and waited on a nearby bench on school grounds

a few minutes passed with you spending them painstakingly fumbling with your phone case, picking off the stickers that were already on their last leg

there were so many times within those short seven minutes where you debated sending a ‘never mind! something came up’ to him

he finally showed up fairly quickly, joining the spot next to you on the bench

immediately discerning your nervous state, he placed a hand over yours

his action didn't do much for your nerves but it gave a little more hope that your confession would have a good outcome

(you were painfully unaware that no matter what you did, you had a 100% success rate)

he voiced his concern, squeezing your hand as you turned to face him

it felt like your heart was about to explode out of your chest but you had to rip the bandaid off

meeting his concern gaze, you finally said it

“i like you”

okay

maybe not the smoothest confession,, but given your anxiety over the situation, it was a miracle it was even said

all toge did in response was reach up to cup your cheek and smile 

his single expression gave you the answer you so desperately needed

pouring all his love and admiration into one expression, you hadn’t realized this was always how he had been looking at you

wordless communication though gazes and lingering touches had always been the way he was allowed to express himself

you had been overlooking it for too long, too caught up in your own mind to see the way he gazed at you like you were the only thing he ever needed to focus on, worthy of his attention at any moment you needed it

your heart melted on sight as you leaned into to press a kiss on his lips 

it was sweet, brief but not hasty. toge had always been good at placing his emotions into his actions and he made sure you felt everything he was feeling

the two of you parted before you leaned back in to place two more kisses, one on each side of his mouth where his seals were placed

he leaned in to your touch, pulling you in for a hug. as he buried his face in your neck, he breathed out a sigh that wordlessly expressed ‘you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this’ and you laughed into his hair

it might've been way overdue, but he’s here now in your arms, this time without the weight of wondering if your feelings were truly requited

oh an maki just got a text from panda of a blurry, zoomed in image of the two of you on the bench together from the distance

“fucking finally” -maki

[maleyanderecafe]

How to Train a Merciless Villain (Webcomic)

Created by: Peroche, MOoji, MUZO

Genre: Isekai/Romance

Yes, I know, I am an easy target for this one because boy do I love sub yanderes. There's not much out yet, but it does have the dynamic I generally crave which is a lot of the female lead takes care of the yandere, plus some sort of servant master relationship. As of current there are 11 chapters out.

The story starts out with Olivia facing her death as the villain Klein has gone on a rampage, killing all nobles in his path. When she is killed, Olivia wakes up in a carriage seemingly having had this nightmare for quite a while. She's isekaied into this story and is trying to find the main villain Klein. Klein was a slave in the story, bought from place to place, abused and sexually serving women until he finally snaps one day, revealing his immense magical power. After this, he basically starts hunting down and killing nobles. To prevent this from happening, Olivia has been traveling from slave auction to slave auction to buy him and prevent him from living a horrible life so that he won't kill her. She does eventually find him and buys him, bringing him into a nice room. When asking him to undress himself, Klein mistakes it for servicing her, which she shuts down immediately, stating that she only wanted to inspect the wound on his shoulder and that he should rest and live happily. Klein is touched by Olivia's kind words, especially after she buys him a ton of outfits and nice rings, which makes the other servants jealous. This leads to the other servants bullying him, locking him into storage, something that Klein accepts as this is how he's normally treated. During this time, Olivia breaks off her engagement with the crowned prince because of his betrayal during her death, something which seems to greatly irritate him. Olivia then ends up saving Klein and punishing the servant that was bullying him.

The rumor about Olivia buying a slave spreads extremely quickly, and Olivia decides to educate Klein on magic, making him into a patron. He seems to have innate talent for learning it, and Olivia invites Klein to a ball. There, the two of them meet Klein's previous owner, whom Klein seems to be terrified by. Olivia is able to protect him and also establish his status as no longer a slave and Klein starts to yearn more and more for Olivia. Olivia protects Klein once again when her uncle starts to abuse him. After some more studying, Olivia and Klein are invited by a famous painter to a party and although Klein feels a bit uncomfortable, he decides to join for Olivia's sake. He also sees a vision of the future where Olivia dies in his arms. After the nice party, Klein's vision comes true, with someone attacking the carriage they're in. This ends up killing Olivia, which unlocks Klein's magical powers as he tries to protect her. He swears that she will come back to him and brings her home. There he uses his magic to revive Olivia. While in this death state, she sees the pages of the story she's trapped in before finally waking up. We also get more context to Klein as a slave, seeing how he had to do anything to survive and that the reason why he wasn't killed as a child for being a magic useris because he was sold as a slave. Olivia was the only one who was really kind to her, as well as the fact that We also find out that the crowned prince was the one who tried to assassinate her.

As someone who really likes subby yanderes, this one is very nice to read. I am always a sucker for yanderes that are taken care of by their partner, and I love yanderes with love self esteem, so this webcomic was probably made for me. I will say that I'm not too fond of the plot point of Olivia trying to buy Klein for the sake of survival, since that gets dropped pretty much immediately after the first chapter or so. It would have been nice if she actually did help him more of the trauma of... well being a slave, since while she does show a great deal of kindness to him and even defends him amongst the other people who wronged him, she doesn't really address the main issue of slavery too much. I guess it's not like I should expect too much of it, but it can feel a bit strange since in theory, Klein would have basically just developed Stockholm syndrome for Olivia (though having a yandere with Stockholm syndrome is pretty interesting.) From what I understand from the novel, this is the kind of cycle that loops a lot in the story, where Olivia takes care of Klein and Klein ends up protecting her in times of need. This may or may not be to people's tastes as it seems that the entire story loops on this kind of premise. I also think it probably is kind of weird...? That while yes, Klein is finally treated well thanks to Olivia, it's kind of still a weird exploitative position since she's still his master...? I should probably stop complaining though, I don't get any subby yanderes ever, so this is nice for me.

What I do like is that Olivia is the one who is protecting Klein for most of the time, from abusive, showing the kind of caring nature she has but also is able to put her food down on things, such as breaking it off with the crowned prince almost immediately after finding Klein or standing up against her uncle, or even defending him during the ball. There is something nice about a main character who is able to protect their yandere in this way, since it makes it more meaningful when Klein is able to protect her back. It is kind of nice that they do incorporate the rumors that Olivia gets for basically going around to slave auctions and then immediately breaking it off with the prince, since, yeah, that's kind of a weird thing to do and does seem to strongly imply that Olivia is basically just using a slave for sex and romance rather than deal with the prince. I mean she isn't really doing any of that, but it's a more logical conclusion than just she's trying to find the person that is gonna kill her in the future and prevent them from doing that. It is kind of weird that nobody questions her just going around to slave auctions, choosing a white haired slave guy and then immediately upgrading him to her patron, because that is an extremely strange thing to do. I guess she's not concerned with any of the other slaves at all considering just how rich she is, which is kind of concerning. I do like the setup for the crowned prince being the one who sent the assassin to kill Olivia, which possibly could either lead to him being a yandere himself or causing various problems for Klein and Olivia in the future.

I really like Klein as a yandere since he is kind of the personality type I like which is somewhat equivalent of kicked puppy, but he isn't particularly interesting. Klein is definitely a tragic villain since we see that he was used all his life as a slave and when he finally hits his breaking point, he tries to kill those that oppressed him in the first place. He has a very terrible past, being sold when he was very young, watching the person who took care of him die because he wanted to protect him, being sold as a sex slave to multiple owners only to finally be sold to Olivia and live a much happier life. Personally though, I would have wished for Klein to have been at least a bit more skeptical about his suddenly good life, since I would have thought that he would have been at least a bit more concerned that his life went from really bad to really good in a snap instead of suddenly devoting himself to Olivia so easily. He seems to have accepted that it's normal to be abused by others, which is why he looks up to Olivia so fondly for his new life. We don't see too much of his yandere moments, in fact I think so far, it's mostly just displayed in the last couple of the currently available chapters, where he watches Olivia dies in his arms and then proceeds to almost kill the assassin, promising that the two will be together forever before reviving her and crying in his arms. My guess is that Klein will end up being rather overprotective of Olivia considering not only that Olivia is very kind to her (and that he likely has a crush on her) but also that if Olivia does end up dying, he will no longer have the nice life he has currently, and be forced back into being a slave. Considering he just unlocked his immensely strong magic, he probably won't ever go back to being a slave, but he does now have a big target on his back as the king was supposed to have killed all magic users to prevent a prophecy from happening. Now that both Olivia and Klein have targets on their backs, maybe they'll run away together to get them off of their back, but I don't think that's where the story is going. I still like Klein's devotion to Olivia though, the true kind of yandere thing I'm craving for.

Overall, while I think there are a lot of bumps and things, I still like it for what it is. Maybe just don't think too hard like I did or it might ruin your enjoyment a little. Still, I'm always an advocate for more sub yanderes, so if you are looking for them like I am, this one is a good story to read.

[cruyuu]

Oooh since you're on a Sukuita streak, I'm dying to know how you think Yuuji and Sukuna feel about each other in chapter 271 👀 that's a question that's been nagging at me since we don't see this new and enlightened Sukuna interact with or mention Yuuji (unfortunately 😔) But I can't help but feel there's some fondness there on both sides

Hi anon! I'm on a sukuita streak bc I'm currently trying to complete my re-read of jjk for my skit analysis but failing terribly because I'm busy as hell (+ they're on my mind a lot these days). Thank you for allowing me to yap a bit more about them in the meantime tho!

I'll start everything off with this: Everything's very subtle in these few last chapters and it's so subtle that some still think nothing's changed. It's there if you care but if you don't, it can easily go over your head.

Now, to answer your question, I'll have to state that my personal opinion is that the moment of Sukuna's change had started since the day of his reincarnation into Yuuji's body, but that he only acknowledged it in Chapter 271- when he finally called him by his full name. I'll keep it brief here but will offer a more proper explanation in my analysis. For now, I'll just put it like this: Sukuna was changing but wasn't admitting it to himself. He was fighting that and lost because of that. If he was still as unhinged as he was back in the Heian era and didn't give two fucks, trust me, the ending (and his relationship with Yuuji) would've been waaaaay different that it is now.

This opinion of mine has affected how I view canon in some aspects and hence, to me, it makes it plausible that their relationship would've been the same whether at Chapter 1 or post-embraced "change" (Chapter 268 and 271).

It would not be a total "change" with them skipping rocks and laughing and being all lovey dovey but rather... no longer extreme but sort of reluctant, awkward and competitive (with lots of teasing) friendship??? There would be similar vibe they had when we first grew to love them. I do think there would've been more pronounced fondness there after the acceptance.

The reason for all of this up above is that this is a shonen work and that they're labeled as enemies (meaning that if it was a different genre, you know damn well they'd be lovers...).

Anyway, Yuuji had officially joined the "favored by Sukuna" club when Sukuna called him by his full name and was "surprised" he'd take this "farce" so far. One thing that's known about Sukuna is that he tends to compliment his opponents and then say their name and Yuuji seemingly joins the trend... with an insult (but I'd call it a disguised compliment).

and yeah, I know, "How can I claim that it means something when he didn't compliment him nor his abilities?"

Well, that's the thing. There's always something different.

If there's one thing unique to these two, it's the fact that they're stubborn shits whose relationship is like a locked room mystery. The key is to pay close attention. Don't trust the words, look at the actions because it isn't that simple. That's where usually those who don't care fail to see the relevance and why they're confused with, for example, why Yuuji told Sukuna that he is him. It's because it's not directly stated, but rather hinted at, time and time again. These two have that sort of relationship, one extremely layered, with lies and deceit, and haunted by double meaning and subtext.

Yuuji was always the one (and I cannot stress that enough). If you've read this manga then you know just how yappy and weird Sukuna tends to get about this "insignificant brat" who he relentlessly mocks and teases and argues with and then claims he's boring. He's constantly doing the opposite of what he says when it comes to Yuuji, and as it happens, so does Yuuji too.

Yuuji is always singled out. Even if he blended into the surroundings and disappeared, Sukuna would still manage to find a trace of him because that's totally a normal way to think about someone you deem "insignificant". The same goes with Yuuji, who in his intent in stopping Sukuna, forgets about his act of being the embodiment of good (and claiming moral superiority to Sukuna) and goes on to cannibalize his half-brothers (which is... very Sukuna of him). This is even given more relevance when you remember Sukuna never ate someone in the story despite being proclaimed "a cannibal".

Still, this is why Yuuji no longer argues about morals with him and why his talk with him in 265 appeals to the fact that they are similar, more than they can even seem to admit and that arguing against who's right and wrong is pointless.

The reason why Yuuji is singled out is because he is the closest we'll ever know of Sukuna who doesn't talk about himself much. They may seem vastly different at first, but as you go deeper and deeper into the story, the lines between them start to blur and at times, even Yuuji's behavior is unexplainable because even he, too, doesn't act accordingly at times. They're both the same (said by Yuuji himself) and hence via them interacting with each other is how we learn more and more about them individually. Because, even if they are "the same", they are still different because their choices are what shaped them as well as how they view life (again, stated by Yuuji himself).

They're not your "everything is right there", but rather "everything is there if you know how to look". In my revisiting of Chapter 271, I realized that Sukuna had already stated everything there is to state. The fact that he's open with others, that he's capable of being weak, finding weak opponents "worthy", being killed, being defeated, being treated as a human being... all of that goes to Yuuji.

He doesn't need to state anything directly because he's quite a skilled liar:

Sukuna had lived for years. He wasn't defeated, instead, he accepted Kenjaku's proposal and sealed himself into fingers for a different purpose. That purpose was participation in the Culling Games. Why did he do that? Well he didn't give any explanation so we have figure it out.

Back then, there was no Itadori Yuuji and back then Sukuna was hailed as the strongest with no one there to equal him. He was feared, revered, loved, hated, but ultimately never defeated. Also, he was cursed. If this curse (as he calls himself) lived according to his principles, he'd be enjoying every second of his life, but in the Yorozu flashback he appears... very bored. That's the first contradiction that we have with Sukuna. The fact that he lives according to his own whims yet never appears satisfied nor happy. Hell the happiest he seems is in modern times, when he awakens in Yuuji's body and excitedly shouts about how much things have changed.

Now was Kenjaku's proposal just giving Sukuna more people to slaughter in the future? No. Seems pointless. Could it be that they were offering Sukuna a way out from the curse that he was carrying? Seems way more probable. After all, Kenjaku would go on to create Yuuji, and curiously, he'd be the one to take everything away- liberate Sukuna from his curse and offer him a different perspective, even offer to be there for him no matter what (which again, I cannot fucking imagine is actual reality... I still think 268 is a fever dream).

The truth comes out in the end, after Yuuji looks at his torn fingers, calls Sukuna's fingers harmless and smiles at the sky. Sukuna isn't even alive and yet Yuuji predicts correctly that he's harmless- as Sukuna would go on to say that he lost and that it'll be nice to take a different path in life. It's just confirmation that the fondness he has for him is there because he doesn't belittle him, doesn't make any negative comments but just... says it's all good and smiles. The same is true for Sukuna because he's no longer stubbornly clinging on to his way of "contradictory living" and is actually considering doing what Yuuji told him. He doesn't vehemently reject the idea (as would be expected), but rather embraces it.

Courtesy of Itadori Yuuji.

Again, to quote myself:

Sukuna had stated everything there is to state. The fact that he's open with others, that he's capable of being weak, finding weak opponents "worthy", being killed, being defeated, being treated as a human being... all of that goes to Yuuji.

This is what Sukuna had learned via Yuuji, something that he had no way of experiencing before, otherwise he would've changed a long time ago and wouldn't stubbornly cling to life nor make deals with Kenjaku who also longed for fulfillment (which they had found ;) ). It seems pointless to trap yourself just to kill more people in the future or cause "mass chaos" via the Merger, just because "the humans have different flavors". I bet he also had a great share of amazing battles and "unique flavors" even back then and besides, doing grand schemes for shits and giggles is a bit boring. Hence why "looking for a way out of his cursed state" / "change" is a more better explanation imo.

So! I went off track here a bit lmfao. But yep, Sukuna is quite a good liar. The change he was looking for- something which didn't bring him fulfillment back in the Heian era- was found in the modern era, where he shared a body with this brat who will ultimately "change the trajectory of his life".

Sukuna lived within Yuuji and even if he likes to pretend that he doesn't know him, he does. He knows him just as well as Yuuji knows him in return. The narrative spells it out. Both of them are extremely strong and quite perceptive about others so why in the hell's name would they not be about each other? It appears like they've just been blind or ignoring the truth until they had to face it.

Still, anon, I understand the feeling and I know it seems weird and off to just end it like that without discussing it in greater detail, especially after what I ranted about above. Their relationship is a clusterfuck and that's why I love them a lot because you can't exactly place where it lies exactly. It's ambiguous as hell, with both romantic, sexual, familial, hell all undertones there are. Are they enemies? Are they lovers? Are they just misunderstood friends? Nephew and uncle? Who knows (do not ask Gege).

Even if jjk has ended, it still feels like something's missing. The question and the definite answer. Here, the question is posed and has seemingly remained unanswered because Sukuna's dead and Yuuji alive. They've been separated.

So how will we ever know what enlightened Sukuna thinks about Yuuji? How do they truly feel about each other?

I talked about it briefly here (regarding Chapter 271 and how valuable it is) and I already discussed up above how I view them. How even if nothing's there, there's still something there and that something is a lot. It seems confusing as hell but it's the best explanation I can give you.

In short: Yes, there is fondness there post-Chapter 271 due to just how much these two had impacted each other and how the ending played out and I bet there's a lot of suppressed love which couldn't get out due to Sukuna being lowkey put off by emotional conversations and quite stubborn in his view of life and being "misunderstood". Yuuji is way more open emotionally and hence why he's all "sunshine and rainbows about it" while Sukuna is still being subdued about it... but not totally because even he admitted that he lost to Yuuji and that his "farce" got him good in the end (so much so that he'd love to meet him again if there is life again).

In true tragic romance cliche fashion, our fated lovers enemies do not make it but alas, it isn't that dark and the send off is extremely pretty imo. Sure, like I said, it's confusing if you don't know the details nor dwell on it but yeah. They are... just being them. I love them lol.

[k-hotchoisan]

the last of the real ones (san x fem!reader)

✨🌸100 followers special🌸✨

Synopsis: you awaken from a three centuries slumber, sealing yourself after being almost sacrificed to be the next heavenly offering, your memories barely intact, and now you realise the world is almost completely destroyed. You have no choice but to find out what happened.

Genre/warnings: (soft) general smut, hurt/comfort, fluff, lowkey emotional, San is a supervillain, hero X villain, VERY light mentions of death

Word count:

A/n: feel the feels yall, as a treat for 100 followers! Thank you so much for the support 😭🌸 I’m happy you all enjoy fics so far. There’s definitely more to come. As always, reblogs are appreciated ❤️

You feel your heavy eyelids as you struggle to open them. Your limbs are almost completely paralysed and heavy, as you stirred from your deep slumber. You felt like you had a very, very long nap for some reason. Your body is still very weak and you barely muster the strength to push yourself to sit up.

You almost slam back onto the cushioned bedding beneath you from the lack of strength, but you managed to sit up, soaking in the environment around you. At first glance, the place around you was indeed in ruins—flora creeping up the pillars, attempting to overtake the seemingly ancient-looking architecture around you. Dim sunlight pours—albeit barely—into your resting place, and the plants fight for it, extending their vines and leaves upwards the pillars, reaching out for the hiding sun.

Pin drop silence surrounds you. Something doesn’t feel right. You muster enough energy to push yourself off the marbled pedestal and onto the floor, wincing at how cold the floor was. Undoubtedly, something about being able to touch the ground with your bare feet comforted you. It was as if you hadn’t done this in a long time. The small plants pushing out from the path tickle your feet as you take small steps to wherever your feet decided to take you.

Everything is eerily calm as you pace through the temple-looking structure, your mind still blank and in a state of confusion. Your legs lead you to an old library of some sort, now obviously almost unrecognisable considering the decay and ruin evident. Books strewn across the once pale coloured marble tables and floors, opened, their text faded. You kneel down, taking the book into your hands, trying to decipher the text before you. You’ve never seen the text before but somehow you’re able to understand the language. A lingering dread of familiarity begins to tug in you, and you do your best to ignore it.

The text mentions something very generic—something about the architecture of the temple, and sketches—stained with age—are littered across the pages. This still does not answer the questions in your head.

Your gaze catches onto a book buried beneath a heap of rumble, as its magic hums through you. You rush over, and the book seemingly pulls itself out, and sits comfortably between your hands, and like the others, survived and ordeal of something.

It was a journal of some sort, definitely sealed with magic—magic you realised you harnessed as the book flutters open to a page. You sit down on the dusty floor, the long dress sweeping across the ground. But whatever was in the book, you could not comprehend at all.

Written in the same language, your confusion only deepens as your eyes scan through the text. The entries were dated to—at least three entire centuries ago.

<they said they’d keep me here, in order to be safe, so as not to anger the celestials. they have not mentioned anything else.>

<the truth is, they know. they know I yearn to see him again, and they want to keep me here, so he doesn’t come for me. but I am anything but afraid of him.>

Who was writing all of these, and why exactly? These questions, no one around to answer. You could only continue reading on, hoping there would be anything, anything, to answer the countless questions swimming through your head.

<they sealed the temple when the celestials came. they asked many questions, and I overheard them mentioning about a heavenly offering to them because the lambs were not enough. they fear they will grow greedy and ask for me.>

<they were right. the celestials had something off about them—I can feel it. something is not right. I just want to see him again. one more time. I don’t care if I’m ripped into shreds should I defy them>

<their eyes looked ravenous—are they corrupted? I can barely tell. the magic of the grail is luring more of these things in. but destroying it would mean the end.>

<it rained blades, demons and blood. the seal could barely keep them out. they were corrupted, and wanted to consume the grail, for power. Yeosang…he pushed me away, even though I told him I could hold them off. he knows they were coming for me and the grail. I’m not scared, Yeosang.>

You breath hitched in anxiety. Questions that were answered only formed more questions, and your fingers begin to tremble at each entry your eyes land on.

<it hurts. I broke the grail and these entities let out the most blood curling scream. breaking the chalice was the only way to stop the madness. I know the consequences. I feel everything being ripping out of me, and I don’t think I can make it. I lied to him. I told him I never want to see him ever again. his expression had broken me into a million pieces, but if he knew about this, he would never let it go.>

<this may be my last entry. the seal I held up is using every ounce of my energy. before I perish, I’m sorry. I love you. I always will. the world will soon begin to be obliterated, but you will be fine. forgive yourself. maybe in another life, another world, we will find each other again []>

That was the end of the journal, the name or whatever soaked in splatters of dried blood. You shut the book and the sense of unease only intensifies. You pray that whoever this person was, found peace. They probably really loved whoever this nameless person was since the remainder of the entries were all love letters to said nameless person. They never once penned his name down, maybe afraid of their beloved to be implicated or something.

Nonetheless, there is something oddly familiar as you trace the blank journal cover with your fingertips. You decide to hold onto it.

As you continue to traverse the area, finally leaving the large library, was only when you realise how everything was worse than it seemed. The ruined temple seemed tame compared to whatever the fuck had happened outside.

There was barely anything. Everything looked completely destroyed—the surround pillars and statues, once stood proud and tall, were smashed and broken, half of top just gone. The air had gone a lot more stale and almost ominous, the sky, which you thought to have a little bit of sunlight at least when you were in the temple, could no longer be found, each area of the sky covered in thick, purple smoke and clouds—whatever it was.

Across the distance, you see a couple of buildings—maybe some sort of civilisation still remained, and it doesn’t look like a very long walk. As you begin your journey, something shiny catches your eye, and you walk over to it. At a glance, it was simply a sword or some sort that had pierced the dead ground, covered in some sort of misma at its blades. The handle showed wear, wrapped in some sort of cloth. But the glint hadn’t come from the blade of the sword, or the sword at all. As you near the abandoned weapon, it was only when you realise that it was from a silver brooch hooked onto the sheath—a small flower shaped topaz jewel, connected with a chain to two letters—YS—carved in silver. Something stings in you. You gently pick the brooch up, placing it close to your lips before keeping it between your palm.

You continue your way, taking in the aftermath of destruction after each step, your heart feeling melancholic. There was definitely so much life that once ruled before all of this destruction happened.

It didn’t take you long before you reached said town, or city, whatever it was supposed to be, evidently now absolutely unrecognisable. Neon signs barely worked, flickering every few seconds, debris strewn everywhere, the thick purple fog hiding everything in its path. You could hear sniffles and cries but you dare not approach, deciding to leave said people—or entities be. Other than that, that had been the only thing accompanying you other than the dreadful silence. It was cold. The city was cold. Night or day, you could not tell. It seemed like everything was permanently at this state of stagnation. How long has it been like this?

Walking deeper into the city, more coughs could be heard, but whether it was human or not, you think it’d better not to pry too much into it.

Clutching the journal and brooch tightly to your chest, you press on, another neon sign catching your eye. It looks like a shop or some sort, albeit looking run down, obviously. You stare into the windows, looking for signs of life in there. The lights were dim, and the sign was flipped to “closed”. Something was drawing you into this place. Almost like magic. You gently push the door open, and the bell rings softly. The owner or whoever doesn’t seem to have notice you yet. No one was at the counter.

“Hello?” You call out. As you did, you feel the magic swirling around you, and it hums in your ears, feeling so familiar. But you still could not remember anything.

“We’re closed,” a voice echoes from the back. The figure emerges out, in a maroon cloak, and he stops in his tracks, his expression unreadable. You stare back at him and now slightly. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I was drawn to this place-“

“Y/n.” He says, in disbelief, cutting you off. “You’re not dead”, which sounded more like a statement than a question

“I’m not”, you reply. The man pulls his hood back, his features coming into full view. His eyes were a gorgeous shade of grey, had an androgynous-looking face, looking both beautiful and handsome at the same time. His hair was pulled into a short ponytail. He looked pretty worn out. It all feels so familiar.

“Yeosang” came out of your lips as you stared at the man before you, and you were surprised at how automatic it almost was.

Everything is slowly flooding back to you. Yeosang’s expression was a mix of emotional and relief. He rushes over the counter as he pulls you into a tight hug, and you hear soft sobs. He pulls away after awhile and his face, tear-stained, still looking beautiful despite that.

“I’m sorry”, he mumbles, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“No, I’m sorry. I called out your name on instinct for some reason. My brain is still racking to remember.”

Yeosang doesn’t seem fazed. “No worries. What’s important is that you’re alive and okay. Tell me if you need me to fill you in what happened. It’s been three centuries since I’ve seen you.”

Your eyes widen. What the fuck. Three whole centuries?

“How did I… Who are you…” and suddenly all the questions you once had just disappeared, and you were unable to voice anything out. You decide to just open your palm, the crystal brooch twinkling under the dim lights. Yeosang gasps as he slowly reaches out to take the accessory from your hands.

“It’s…yours, isn’t it?”

“Yeah it is. Where did you find this?”

“Hanging off an abandoned sword outside of the temple.”

“Right”, a sad smile spreads over his face. “Back then, we were fighting off the monsters, and I barely made it out, one of them had ripped it out of my armour. I fought back and killed him off. It was tiring and it took a lot out of me, clearing them in waves. I wonder who placed it on my sword,” he wanders as he leaves it on the counter.

“Where did you go after that?” You ask, your eyes fixed into the brooch.

“After the war, I fled to recuperate in the outskirts since the temple was horrendously destroyed. Many of the immortals perished, only a handful of us scattered across the universe.”

“What happened to me? I woke up, in a daze, the only one who remained in the temple”, you ask again.

Yeosang sighs, his lips thinning. “You, shattered the grail despite knowing the grave consequences. It ripped out almost all of your energy—including your magic and memories. But you still went into hiding, sealing yourself with the last ounce of magic you still had in you because the celestials knew you could still be a heavenly offering.” He shakes his head. “But we all knew, there would be chance that you would never wake up, ever again. And you knew that yourself.”

Your head pounds at the information overload. It doesn’t take you long to realise that the journal had belonged to you. It was still hard to believe, let alone comprehend the situation.

“I’m glad you’re alive, y/n. It’s been too long. You’re always invited here. I hope your memories come back soon”, Yeosang’s lips presses into a pretty smile as he takes your hand into his. You feel a small burst of magic surge through your veins. Your mind is still clouded, but the sense of familiarity and comfort floods into you as you stare back at Yeosang.

“I passed you a little of my energy. I haven’t been able to cultivate enough because of how unstable the universe has become after the holy war. But hopefully this is enough.”

You feel your heart warming up as your hands did too. “It’s more than enough, Yeosang. I’m glad to have met you again”, you smile.

Yeosang feels comforted by this and his eyes suddenly lit up as he goes into the back of his store. He comes back quickly, and has something in his hands. He opens his fingers and it was a thin silver ring, encrusted three small rubies, hanging on a silver chain.a

“What’s this?” You gingerly pick up the jewellery, taking a closer look at it.

Yeosang doesn’t answer your question, rather, he only says, “you should go see him. I’m sure he’s been waiting for you longer than I was.”

“Who?”

Yeosang laughs. “You’ll know when you see him. Trust. Though it might be really overwhelming for you, because after all, he was the one who’s destroying the world now.”

“That doesn’t sound pleasant. Why do you sound so calm saying that?” You frown.

“Because as much as that sounds bad, he is still a really good friend”, he responds, his chin resting on his palm.

“He doesn’t sound like a good person”, you murmur, wondering if you were missing something.

“I never said he was. But really, you’ll know when you see him. Send him my regards.” Yeosang adds, shooing you away with his hands. “The ring will guide you.”

You turn to him for a final time. “Stay safe Yeosang. I’ll come by again when I can.”

“As you do too, y/n.”

You step out of Yeosang ‘s shop, your heart feeling a mix of nostalgia. You feel tears well up at the corner of your eyes, and you quickly wipe them off. The memories were slowly coming back to you, in small trickles. As you feel at a loss of where to go, magic buzzes weakly at your fingertips, you could barely make it out—a faint, red pulsing trail of magic swerves through the thick fog. Your fingers fidget with the necklace that hid in your palm and you thought maybe you should just follow the trail, since there was nothing else you could do.

As you walk, the dystopian environment was slowly something your eyes were slowly adjusting to. However, your head was still swirling—shocked at how a singular person could have caused such grave damage to the world, on top of going through the holy war. Well, Yeosang didn’t deny that he wasn’t a good person, so there’s that. The only issue was that the deeper you followed the trail, the more dystopian and unsettling the environment gradually became—thick and thorny plant roots and veins stretch across the path, the fog getting even thicker and heavier, the magic and corruption almost nauseating, though it feels vaguely familiar. Despite that, for some reason, it doesn’t terrify you. It was as if you’ve been here before.

As the world gradually falls apart before your eyes, you do your best to avoid falling debris that tumble violently past you, looking up at the dark skies, lightning parting the thick and heavy clouds, and you think to yourself, maybe this was meant to happen as the world had to carry the sins of the celestials, who got corrupted because of greed.

Up ahead, the path only got steeper—there is no walkable path up, as only crumbles of wreckage left behind serves as your only leverage to continue following the trail. You take a breath in, braving through getting abrasions from the concrete, stone, or whatever hard material you had to push yourself up to.

It takes awhile to reach to the top, and you see the whole of the neo city in full view, or at least, the remains of it, covered in the thick fog. The trail abruptly ends past another path of rubble and you follow through.

Your eyes land on a human-like silhouette, who was seated with a knee propped up to support his arm as he looked down at the city as well, his black wings folded neatly and his raven hair blowing against the wind. He seems to have sense you, and his head turns, his sharp eyebrows furrow. He was insanely gorgeous, no doubt about it, but you feel like you have caught him at a bad mood, the way his dark eyes are piercing daggers into you. But then, that expression disappears almost instantaneously the moment his eyes meet yours, and his gaze softens immediately, his eyes widen, seemingly in disbelief.

His posture changes, as he slowly gets up. You spot the tension in his hands. His eyebrows were still furrowed, and his breathing quickens. For a moment, the both of you only stare at each other, one in confusion, the other one in disbelief.

“Y/n?” He was the one who breaks the silence first, as he inches closer, still cautious. You stay rooted to where you were, still sifting through your memories as to where you saw him before.

“You’re alive?” He stands at a distance from you, afraid to come closer, and you see his eyes starting to glaze over, and a tear trickles down his pretty face. He starts walking to you, and you brace yourself for what he’s about do to you.

And he pulls you into a tight, almost suffocating hug.

His voice trembles and breaks as he tries to force his words out despite his flowing tears. “Fuck. Did you know how fucking long I was waiting for you? Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you hide the war from me?”

He pulls back, staring at you, his gaze almost crazed, his grip tightening on your shoulders. “I never forgave myself all these years. I know you hate it when I become destructive but I couldn’t help it…” His voice trails off when he sees the look on your face.

“Y/n?”

Before you could reply, the ruby ring glows and burns in your palm , and you wince in pain, dropping the ring and journal in the process. A soft, red glow of a sigil suddenly appearing on your finger, only to disintegrate immediately.

And everything starts to flood back—the holy war, your friendship with Yeosang, the stench of the corrupted celestials as they broke into the temple and clawed at you, the pain you felt as you destroyed the grail with your own two hands, and the final breaths you took as the seal completely formed on your finger.

No, there’s more. Way back, even further. Your gaze catches the man before you, and it more floods back. He was the villain. The villain who you had encountered and nursed back to health, despite his cold demeanour towards you when you found him lying there, gravely injured while he was fighting your own kind. The villain who you got yourself entangled with as time passed. The villain who you lied to and pushed away in order to protect him from the holy war.

“…San”, you murmur, your hands creeping up to his cheeks, feeling his skin under your fingertips. He continues to stare at you in silence, his breathing deepening.

“San,” you repeat again, more firmly this time, your tears invading your sight. He’s there right before you, in the flesh, staring at you the way you were staring at him. He looks as frantic as you are, maybe even worse.

“I’m here”, he whispers, pulling you in for another hug. “I’m always here.”

He pulls back again, and cups your cheeks before placing his lips against yours, kissing you deeply. You wrap your arms around his neck, letting yourself melt against him.

As the both of you part, he pulls you into his chest, taking in you in the flesh, feeling you breathe softly against him.

When the both of you finally calm down (mostly from the crying), he finally speaks, as the both of huddle together, feeling the cold breeze, watching the destruction from afar.

“Where were you all this time?”

“I…sealed myself away into a deep slumber after breaking the grail. When the grail shattered, so did my magic and my memories. When I sealed myself, it pushed me into a deep sleep.”

“You were in deep slumber for the whole of three centuries?”

You nod, playing with his fingers, adorned with pretty silver bands. He takes your fingers, and intertwine them with his before lifting them to his lips, giving them soft kisses as he stares at you affectionately.

“You…didn’t mean what you said to me before you left right? About not wanting to see me anymore?”

You couldn’t help but smile apologetically when you see his solemn gaze. “No. I’m sorry for hurting you like that. I just would never want to drag you into this mess, and it would have been better if I didn’t have you involved. It was not your mess to clean. Are you upset about it?”

He shakes his head. “I would never be upset at you. I was upset at myself because I thought did something to hurt you.” He takes the ruby ring necklace and clasps it around your neck.

“Idiot”, you respond, bumping his head gently with your fist. Despite being a villain, San was nothing but. He was the softest around you despite the destruction he was capable of.

“Yeosang‘s running a small little trinket shop you know”, you suddenly say.

“Yeah, I know. He has a lot of pretty stuff there. Did you went to see him?”

“I think my remaining magic led me to him. I found his brooch on the sword he used to fight with.”

“Yeah, that’s cause I put it there,” San answers. “A century after the holy war, I saw it glinting on the battlefield, still unscathed for some reason. He had fled to somewhere else by then. I didn’t know where to find him so I just clipped it to his sword.”

“Yeosang’s gonna be so happy when he hears that”, you smile, already picturing your friend’s soft features. “He sends you his regards.”

A smile curls at the corner of his lips, and he stays silent for awhile.

“Why are you destroying the world?”

“It’s meant to be destroyed in atonement of the sins. The corrupted misma still lurks around, like a disease.”

Your gaze shifts to the dystopian world before you. Somehow it’s starting to look pretty, in a fucked up way, or maybe because you were with San, so nothing scares you anymore.

“Then do you stay here and watch the destruction permanently or do you have a place to sleep?” You tease. He purses his lips.

“Yeah of course. Being a villain is tiring, you know. Are you tired? You really walked a lot. Look at you, full of scratches.”

Now that he mentioned it, you didn’t realise how much your legs were starting to ache and sting from the walking and abrasions you got from trying to reach San.

“And who’s fault is that?” You pout.

San puts both his hands up. “Fine, fine. I’ll take care of you as compensation okay?” He gets up first, and his hands hold onto your arm for you to steady yourself as you stand. Then he sweeps you off in a bridal style.

His wings flutter open, jet black feathers falling like black petals around the both you. His gaze never once leaves yours. Then he looks off to the distance before taking off.

The both of you went flying from time to time, San always loved seeing your smile as you fawned over how the beautiful the scenery was.

He lands onto a balcony, which you deduce quickly that it’s his place of residence. It was neatly kept to say the least, and really high up. He probably liked looking at the scenery.

You kick your legs playfully, waiting for him to put you down, but he doesn’t. Instead, he walks into his place and right into the bathroom. He sits you on the toilet bowl.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, and I’ll clean your wounds for you”, San says as he leaves the bathroom to get a fresh set of clothes for you. Undoubtedly, the dress you were in was already dirty, so were your limbs. You gingerly undressed yourself, wondering what to do with the soiled linen dress. You step into the shower and bask in the warm water that instantly relaxed you. When you stepped out, a set of fresh clothes sits on the sink. You dry yourself and put on the clothes, feeling pretty refreshed. You sit on the bed as San takes your feet, leveraging them in his knee as he dresses your small wounds.

Well, that is, until San had his hands all over you while you two were cuddling. His cock pressing right at your thigh, as he feels you up, kissing your head and the shell of your ears. His touches and kisses were desperate, trailing along your neck and biting you gently.

You sighed into his neck, the serotonin flowing through your chest. It felt so good having him close to you like this. His hand creep under the shirt and he squeezes your tits, and you melt under his touch, your soft moans egging him on.

He pushes you down onto his bed, pulling his shirt off and peppers you with more kisses, and a final deep one on your lips. He then pulls down his pants, and his cock is out as he grinds against you, his groans only encouraging your arousal to grow.

“I just woke up from a three century nap, San”, you smile as he bites down onto your ear lobe.

“I’m sorry. It’s just been so long since I’ve had you”, he groans again, as he cock presses against your clothed pussy.

He pulls back and his gaze meets you, his expression needy. “Please? I’ll be gentle, I promise .”

You never really wanted to decline him anyway. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close, whispering, “go ahead. You can ruin me.”

San’s heartbeat speeds up when he hears that, and he tugged your underwear down your legs, your cunt exposed to the cold air. San shifts down and positions himself right at your pussy and he licks a stripe up gently, looking at you for reactions. You let out a satisfied sigh as he continues to lick you up, flicking your clit with his tongue as he soaks in your soft cries. Your fingers slowly snake into his locks as you tried to grasp on anything. At the same time, you hear the sound of skin slapping from below, and you realise he was fucking into his hand as he ate you out. The thought of San jerking off from pleasuring you only intensifies the pleasure, and sparks flicker beneath your eyelids. Your orgasm slowly builds as you cry out San’s name like mantra.

“Fuck, San I’m so close,” you twitch, forcing your legs to stay on the bed to no avail. This only encourages San to speed up his tongue fucking in you and your arousal hits it’s peak, and you cry out as you came right in his face.

He shifts back, and he stares at your cunt pulsing at nothing as he continues to stroke himself, in a daze as he enjoys seeing your cunt fluttering, your cum leaking out of your hole.

San stops his masturbation, and he shifts forward this time, lining his cock to your entrance and he pushes in, whimpering at how tight your walls were clenching around him.

Your fingers claw at his arms as your back arches in bliss as he continues to push more inches in. Fuck. You forgot how good fucking him felt, and you sense that he felt the same way as his gaze looks lust-filled.

You definitely felt him holding back, from the way he pulls out and pushes in again with the utmost gentleness, in hopes that he doesn’t hurt you but there’s a limit to it, as you could tell he really wanted to just fit into you and make you cry and beg.

“You can go faster, San. It feels heavenly”, you sighed, feeling his cock push into every nerves in your walls, aching for more.

This time he picks up the tempo and fucks you a little harder, his grunts escaping from his lips.

“I missed this so much. I missed everything about you”, he barely manages out as continuously fucks you into the bed.

Your legs are trembling from the pleasure as the sound of wet skin slapping only riles you up further.

“I’m cumming”, he says, his thrusts become more erratic and harder as he’s desperately trying to chase his high.

“It’ll only be right of you to cum in me”, you tease, and San’s cock twitches as he hears that, releasing his load right into your tight pussy, so much that it starts leaking out of your abused hole as he’s still cumming in you.

“So good, so fucking good y/n”, he moans as his eyes roll back in euphoria. “I love you so much.”

You plant a kiss on his lips, returning his words.

The both of you sit in bed after he cleans you you up. San cuddles you from behind as the both of you gaze out to the ruins.

San suddenly takes your fingers into his, and he pulls out the ruby ring.

“Marry me”, San proposes as he slides the ruby ring onto your ring finger. “I don’t need anything else if I can have you.”

You lift your hand up to the sky, the ruby glistening under the dim lights as you turn to kiss San’s neck and reply, “for the rest of eternity.”

[andkisses]

♡ new clarity | heeseung ♡

you thought you’d made peace with your past–but here, at this pre-finals christmas party, it seems like there’s much, much more than you bargained for

♡ heeseung x gn!reader | wc. 2.8k ♡ genres/tropes: college!au, party atmosphere, high school sweethearts to strangers to 👀 ♡ mentions of/warnings: party atmosphere lol, drinking/drinking games, kissing, pet name usage, reader is implied to be shorter ♡ a/n: an old writing from my old blog that i accidentally deleted :”) inspired by pool by paramore but specifically this version lol i've added and revised it a bit as well

♡ masterlist ♡

Whatever this is, it had been building and bubbling and rising since eleventh grade. That’s when you set down on this path. When your friend introduced you to her friend, who in turn introduced you to all of his friends. He had seemed kind enough, with sparkly doe eyes that caught the sunlight in enchanting ways. The way his eyes seemed to light up, too, when he met you for the first time. He had some sort of magic to him, you figured—an air that made people want to get to know him better. It had been a simple meeting in the cafeteria during lunch period.

It had been simple, once.

Now, it’s anything but.

Navigating senior year had been stressful enough, but Heeseung’s laugh made it easier. Heeseung had been the kind of person who could cheer you up with a terribly bad pun—puns he never seemed to run out, a seemingly endless supply of groan-inducing monstrosities. His firm shoulder and tender touch and listening ear made hardships bearable.

The way he would look at you, with all the love he could muster in his eyes, small smile on his lips, made it bearable. His kisses, loving and gentle and playful and passionate. The way he would come over to help you with your essay but end up chatting with your mom while cutting fruit. His whispered nothings when he said goodbye, fingers slipping from yours, with a promise to see you in the morning and a smile that would leave your cheeks flushed and your heart full.

You balanced each other in this way–you did the same for him. Cheering him on at his softball games with cheesy homemade signs that were completely embarrassing but made his heart ache in a unique way nonetheless. Helping him study for AP exams that would boost his college applications. Holding him while he cried into your arms after not getting accepted to his dream college, muttering confusion after confusion that you had no answers to. No solution or fix. You couldn’t fathom why, either; he had the grades and the extracurriculars. He was a model student. He was everything. You told him to try again. He told you it didn’t really matter anymore.

Heeseung was different after that night, in subtle ways that close friends picked up on but teachers and passerby people missed entirely. You saw him changing right in front of your eyes as he grappled with the consequences of his future. His laugh wasn’t as loud anymore. His jokes became less frequent. He got quiet.

His touch felt more distant.

You broke up the week before graduation, a shared agreement where you were both okay with the fallout. Your mutual friends were shocked, especially the ones who introduced you all the way back in eleventh grade. It felt like so long ago. Yes, you would miss his touch. Crave his kisses. Long for being held when all you two would do is watch the stars on a gingham blanket and talk about the future, any future. As long as this imagined future involved you two together, it was okay.

As you sat in a crowd of your graduating peers, it felt like you didn’t know which way was up or down.

College came, and freshman year blew by, as did sophomore year. Memorable only the way you would recount a movie that was neither bad nor good. You tried a bunch of things: club activities that failed because the ones you wanted to join occurred at conflicting times–class had to come first. Jobs that turned to dust because they were only temporary for various holidays or tourist influx. Dates with no one ever worth mentioning.

The first half junior year melted away with major-related courses and more papers than you could believe. You tried not to think about the times Heeseung would come over to be your editor, scribbling nonsense in the margins of your rough drafts. Just like you tried again at the dating scene. There had been others, but none like Heeseung. None with a smile like his, that lit up a room it shined so brightly. None with eyes that sparkled and softened whenever they saw you. Or with a voice like his when you were sad, and he would sing to you.

Some of them wouldn’t even try to sing to you.

And now, here you are: at a Christmas party you said you wouldn’t attend because you had to study for finals–class had to come first. But your friend dragged you along, saying you would enjoy it and have fun. “I guarantee it,” she’d promised, chucking cute, Christmas-y clothes in your direction. You normally wouldn’t have been persuaded, but the incessant asking began to overpower any odds of studying. You’d settled on your favorite jeans and a loose red sweater with sequins interweaved before you had even decided on actually attending.

Your friend was giddy on the way over, in a way you’d never seen her before. As she shifted the car into park, practically jumping out of her seat, you’d put it down to her succeeding in dragging you out to some random party. She was gone the moment you two stepped inside, telling you to “have a great night!” with a wink as she vanished into the crowd.

Which brought you to this.

“What are you doing here?” you ask as Heeseung begins to kiss your cheek down towards your jaw. The bathroom lights were off, but the owner of the house had strung up oversized Christmas tree bulbs to illuminate the space and bring festivity or what have you to the small room. At least, that’s what you assume as your mind tries to process everything all at once.  Red, green, and blue tones dance across his dark hair that curled up at the edges, a tousled look. You notice he still smells like orange and cinnamon, even after all this time.

It has a particular effect on you.

He hums against your skin, and you can feel his smirk. “Kissing you,” he says simply, as if it were the most obvious thing. Maybe it is.

“Be serious!” You playfully bat against his shoulder, and even with the solid hit, warmth against your palm, he doesn’t feel real. This couldn’t be real. You hadn’t seen each other since that summer after freshman year.  You texted and talked but it regarded boring mundane things, nothing ever too personal or revealing. You’d become strangers. You hadn’t even told him about your boyfriend, or the break up following, or the other boyfriend, or the other break up, or the third boyfriend and the third break up...

But they never sang to you, so they weren’t worth mentioning.

A quick peck on the tender flesh of your neck, warmth spreading from each spot Heeseung kisses. “I am.”

“Seung…” you warned, resolve waning.

He laughed against your neck, pulling you closer in the dark. “I missed that,” he murmured.

“What? Me scolding you?”

“No, you saying my name,” he replied, slowly rocking you back and forth. “Actually, no. That was a lie. Just you. I miss you.”

Even though you’re sure it only happened less than half an hour ago, it feels like a million years since you caught Heeseung’s eyes in the living room. It was filled with people, milling around each other and shouting over the obnoxiously loud music in order to hear better, which in turn only made everything else louder. The din was slowly and surely becoming unbearable, and you turned to leave when you felt a stare.

You searched the crowd, standing on the hearth to see above the drunk people and the sorta-sober friends crying about how finals were next week and here they were, playing beer pong with ginger ale because someone forgot to bring more beer to play said beer pong. He looked as shocked as you felt, eyes wide and sparkly and lips slightly agape. Your heart jumped as he began to part through the pained students attempting to forget their GPAs and make his way to you, and you were moving towards him before you even realized it.

Somehow, that led to kissing in the bathroom down the hall, where both of you had raced to lock the door, with no real lights and stupid dollar store Christmas bulbs strung about.

Somehow, you’re okay with it.

“Sing me a song,” you request. You can still hear the party outside, tinny-sounding songs bleeding through the walls and party noise. It sounded like someone just scored big in ginger ale pong or failed miserably. But Heeseung, your Heeseung, is here and in front of you and in your arms. You wrapped your arms around him, arms tight against his back, your head tucked into his chest. This was probably what your friend meant, why she was so adamant about your attendance, though you don’t know how she could have known about Heeseung. Maybe it was his magic again.

You suppose it doesn’t matter. She’d probably tell you all about her evil plan to get you and your ex back together—

You flinched in Heeseung’s arms, eyes shut. Calling him an ex didn’t seem right, though that’s certainly what he was. You’d dated, then you'd broken up. You both agreed to do so, regardless of the begging of mutual friends. Regardless of all those different futures you’d envisioned together. Yet, here at this party, in a place you didn’t expect to see him, a place that didn’t make you even think of him, in his arms, ex seems too harsh.

“Please?” you ask quietly, finding yourself nuzzling into the softness of his flannel.

Heeseung laughs, bright and so much like him, and the rumble through his chest makes you smile. “Needy, are we?” he teases, voice soft. You can imagine him biting his lip like he would when he teased you and his own cheeks flushed. You lean more of your weight against him as he quietly sings to you. “I’m underwater, no air in my lungs... My eyes are open, and I’m giving up... You are the wave I could never tame... If I survive, I’ll dive back in…”

You turned up to him, chin resting on his chest, confused pout on your lips. “Are you asking me on a date?” you question. “I don't even know why you’re here. You don’t go to school here. Or anywhere near here.”

“One,” he begins, bringing up a finger and lightly booping your nose, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re the one who asked me to sing, so I sang. How dare you label me with ulterior motives.” He smiles, nose scrunched against yours, and you can’t help but giggle at his affections. “Secondly, my school had finals last week. I’m finished, and I thought I’d come over and watch all the other people suffer and drown their sorrows in cheap liquor and apple juice.”

“It wasn’t ginger ale?” you ask, frowning.

“They’re too broke for ginger ale, my delight,” he says, the pet name rolling off his tongue like he never stopped calling you that. Like there wasn’t almost three years separating you two like this. “They’re college students.”

“Did you come here to see me?” you ask, the idea popping into your mind. Part of you is screeching because oh my god did you seriously just say that? To him? To his face? But another part, the one closer to your heart, needs to know. The part that’s been daydreaming about something similar to this, though none of them ever occurred in a bathroom at a Christmas party with cheap lights. A part that longs for the simple time, of falling asleep after sweet kisses and talking about the future, any future.

A future with you two together.

“If I survive, I’ll dive back in... I’ll dive back in, I’ll dive back…”

“Hee-seeeeung—” you drawl, sounding like a petulant child. You don’t care, you’re too hopeful. “Answer meeeee.”

He mimics your tone. “Fiiiiiiiine.” He stood you up, pushing you off him with his hands on your shoulders as he levels a stare. His eyes sparkle, even in the low light“Go out to dinner with me tomorrow night.”

You raise an eyebrow.

He smiles awkwardly. “Please?”

“Heeseung, I’m one of those sad college students waiting to suffer for finals. I need to study.”

He groans playfully, like you’d told him he had to win a golf tournament for a chance at dinner. He drops his arms and rolls his head back before looking back up. “Let me try again,” he says, hands clasped behind his back and smirk barely contained on his lips. “Can I purchase your favorite takeout and bring it to your dorm and help you study?”

“Depends.” You pinch your chin between your thumb and forefinger in a mock thinking position with pursed lips. You’ve gotta tease back somehow, right? “Study like real study–you know, the boring way–or study like you kiss me after I get a review question correct?”

“Hey, studies show that rewards help you learn and retain more information.” Heeseung shrugs before his faux seriousness fades into a myriad of giggles as he quietly repeats himself, “Studies... study... haha.”

“Oh my god.” You lightly shove his shoulders back, causing him to break out into more laughter. And there it is, that bright smile that made the sun ashamed. That warmed your cheeks and kept your heart beating on the bad days. The one you’ve longed to see so dearly.

“I miss us,” you say. Or breathed. You didn’t really put effort into saying it, but it came out nonetheless. You lean back against the counter, and Heeseung mirrors your stance against the opposing wall. “Why did we break up?”

“We were different,” Heeseung replies, as if it’s the easiest answer. Maybe it is. “We needed space.”

You bite your lip thinking, eyes everywhere but Heeseung. Is this really a good idea? Had breaking up even been a good idea? College had been lonely without him. He was there but he wasn’t. Baseline text messages were different from face-to-face heartfelt conversations. He’d become a stranger, an idea you kept in your memories. But now, he’s within reach of your fingertips, and something deep inside tells you that if you catch hold, you’ll fight to keep him close this time.

“About tomorrow night…”

Heeseung’s head shot up, eyes anxious. “Yeah?” he exhales, as if he’d been waiting for you to say something, anything.

“If you promise to bring my favorite takeout and a decent supply of kisses,” you say, stepping forward with your hands behind your back just like he had been, “because I do have a lot to study for, I guess you can come over.”

“Really?” Heeseung steps close, and he seems timid. Like you might yell and tell him to go away. Like this whole moment isn’t actually happening. His eyes hold hope and joy and happiness. And you want to keep them that way. “You’re willing to give us another try?”

You nod, biting down a shy smile. Heeseung moves to hug you, swoop you up in his arms and you know he’s going to try and spin you around like a Disney movie. A thought comes to mind quickly, new options forming now that there’s more possibility. You hold up a hand, and his chest runs straight into your palm. “What?” he asks, fearful and worried.

“You still haven’t actually kissed me tonight, Seung,” you remind, tilting your head up towards him. You point all around your face and neck before tapping on your lips. “I don’t think I could wait until tomorrow night after all this time.”

Heeseung pouts, pulling at your hands. “I’d get red lipstick on me, though.”

You smile slyly this time, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling close. Heeseung’s smile grows wide, making your heart pound with the puppy love you’d felt before, but this time, it feels like it could grow into something more. You two were older now, maybe wiser if the school system had done its job. Or maybe you were still fools.

At least, you can be fools together.

You bump into his nose with your own, something that makes you feel little and young and powerful again. You smile up at him and, even in the darkness and the stupid Christmas lights, you can see how his eyes glitter and shine with a particularly new clarity. “Something tells me you wouldn’t mind,” you whisper.

Heeseung bumped his nose back. A quick peck, and you smile that he still tasted like hot cinnamon candies. “Something tells me you’re right.”

[haikyuu-sins]

Funny 23. With Law please! Maybe reader putting up a fight to their boyfriend Law when he’s trying to do a typical medical exam on them! Thank you! Take your time, hun, we’re here for you!

I did change the sentence juuust a little bit since a submarine isn’t exactly high up in the air, but i hope you like it! I also realized that i had this in my drafts and not in my queue this entire time 🙃 THEN i realized I wrote something completely different!! So i had to rewrite it. But I’m going to keep the first one, so you’re getting a 2 for 1 deal here. 

Characters: Trafalgar Law (One Piece) Warnings: Needles Genre: Crack

Today was your least favorite day of the year. The day that Law gave the crew shots. With going to so many islands, there was no saying what kinds of sicknesses we could get so Law always took precautions with us. He could cure diseases, yes. But a cold, our body’s just had to fight it off ourselves. He called you in and he could already see you cringing at the idea of getting shots. “CAptain I don’t want it..” You gave him a side eye as his long legs brought him over a little quicker than you wanted. You saw the needle in his hand and he flicked it. Little droplets came out of the tip of the needle and hit the floor. “No. Captain I’ve decided that I really don’t want it. I’ll be perfectly fine if you don’t give it to me. In fact! I’ll just never leave the submarine again! How does that sound?” You try and talk your way out of it, seeing if he’ll buy your excuse but he of course, does not. 

“Would you knock it off?” He rolled his eyes, just wanting to get this over with. You were the most difficult out of the crew when it came to getting anything done medically. “It’s just a little pinch and then it’s done. Please just cooperate with me this once?” he sighs. 

Your eye twitches at his response. That wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted him to agree with you–tell you that it was a great idea to never leave the submarine because that way you’d never have the chance to get sick. But no, Law is obviously not going to fall for that. 

In what seems like half a second, he’s at your side and your eyes widen. “Don’t you dare…” you start to move away from him but Law is much faster than you. He grabs you by the arm to keep you close to him, all while you're screaming and flailing about. “NO! Captain PLEASE! I’ll do dishes for the rest of my life! I’ll clean the bathrooms! I’ll do anything!” you try your best to bargain with him, but it’s all for naught. “Room.” 

“No!!” In a flash, your dominant arm is completely off your body and he’s holding it in his hand. 

“Give it back!” you yell at him as you try to grab your arm…with your dominant hand. 

“Ow!” you gasp out and feel a poke as he sticks the needle in it. “How dare you!” 

Law doesn’t say anything, but you know he feels smug about tricking you. 

“If you do that again I’m going to throw you out the window! …What are you doing?” 

He glanced over at the submarine window. “Checking to see if you could actually do it to see if it’s worth it. We’re in a sub afterall. Underwater, too. So good luck with that.” he smirks and reattaches your arm to your body. You grab it protectively and huff. 

“Mark my words. I’ll find a way.”

Warnings: Clown mention, fake knife. Characters: Trafalgar Law Genre: Crack, Modern!AU

A haunted house. It was all your idea. Why? Because you wanted to see if your boyfriend, Law actually got scared. The man was normally quite stoic, seemingly not bothered by much, if anything at all. So what better thing to do than to go to a haunted house and try to see if Law would have any sort of reaction to it. Little did you know, this was going to backfire horribly on you.

The haunted house you took him to was at an old hotel they decided to revamp for Halloween. Each floor had a different theme. One was clowns, another was chainsaws, then the last was different horror movies, like Friday the 13th and Scream. 

When you arrived, fake fog covered the ground and you couldn’t see where you were stepping. You were excited about it, your little plan was hopefully going to work. But when you looked over at Law, he has an unamused look on his face and it made you roll your eyes. 

“Oh come on Law! Can you at least look excited or even nervous about this? It’s gonna be fun!” You pout up at the taller man. 

“I don’t see much to be scared about…” He glances around, not knowing what exactly he should be nervous about. “It’s not like it’s real.” You roll your eyes once more at your boyfriend. 

The two of you enter the first floor and you admit, it’s not as scary as you thought it would be. There are people who jump out at you and sure, it gives you a little fright, but it’s not until the third floor where they’re actually chasing you that it gets scarier. Law smirks to himself, as he gets an idea. He slips away behind you and you don’t notice that he’s gone until you jump back and don’t feel yourself bump into his chest like you had before. “Law?” you shout out his name, brows furrowing as you turn in circles. “Law! Where did you go?!” it was at this point you started to get freaked out. The sound from Friday the 13th plays in the background which just serves to make your heart race. 

“Babe! Come on!” you groan in frustration now that you’re alone but it wasn’t for long because when you turned around, there’s Jason with a fake bloodied knife in his hand. You scream in a panic as you jump back against the wall. The horror movie character pins you against it so you can’t escape. But what you hear next, isn’t what you expect. You don’t expect to hear your boyfriend’s laugh as he takes off the mask. “You little shit!” you yell at him, hitting him in the chest. “If you do that again I’m going to throw you out this window! …what are you doing…?” you look at him through narrowed eyes as he glances out the window. “Checking to see how high the drop is to see if it’s worth it.” he smirks lazily at you and you just hit his chest again, huffing as you walk away from him. Nothing here was going to scare you anymore since you were just mad at him now. Maybe not mad, per say, but definitely embarrassed. “You’re a jerk!” 

“You have to admit that was pretty funny.” Law chuckled, following you to the elevator at the end of the haunted house. 

Your arms cross over your chest and you look away from him. “Was not.” 

The two of you sat there, Law chuckling every once in a while as he remembered your reaction and scared face. You waited until the elevator went to the first floor but it seemed like it was taking too long. It wasn’t until it jolted and stopped midway that you both realized what happened. 

The idea of being stuck in an elevator didn’t exactly appeal to him. But if it was with you…well that was a whole different story.

[parkerflix]

—high hopes

ethan landry x gn!reader + hint of chad meeks-martin x gn!reader

wc: 0.8k

genre: angst, love triangle, open ended ending, e2l & f2l, e2l is one sided thought yk the vibes

synopsis: ethan held out hope that his thoughts were wrong.

a/n: for like the 3 people who asked for a part 2 to i hate u <3, ily ! also i am opening requests! send wtv my way and i’ll try my best!

taglist! @l5byrinth @knightinshiningdenimjeans @pedrettilov3r

ethan had always had an inkling of a crush on you. it wasn’t something you had seemed to be aware of, and he was grateful that you weren’t. unlike him, he was perceptive on your feelings & the feelings of others around him.

so when he had introduced you to his friend group, his interest was piqued when chad, the nicest one out of all of them seemingly disliked you.

he hadn’t bothered to confront chad about it, mainly because he just seemed to steer clear of you. ethan knew it bugged you, and you weren’t sure how to fix it. he didn’t want to tell you that chad was acting that way because he liked you, that might just ruin his chances.

he was always acutely aware of how you tended when chad came into the room whenever you were over, or how you would try to converse with him and get chad to join whatever you were doing. ethan figured you acted like that to try to get on chad’s good side, never quite understanding why you weren’t liked by him.

today was different than most days, you hadn’t come over due to having an impromptu study session with mindy. ethan understood that you were busy, but he was missing your presence in the dorm. you were over more often than not, and if you weren’t at his place you was at yours instead.

he was laying on his bed, trying to write his philosophy paper when he heard the jingling of keys. chad wasn’t aware, but ethan had managed to make you your own copy of their key. turning his head, his heart swelled with hope that it was you, coming over even though it was later than you normally came.

unfortunately for him, it was just chad, giving him a wave and closing the door. he was busy seemingly on the phone with someone, dropping the bags of takeout on their wobbly table.

chad made his way over to his bed, flopping onto the mattress, and ethan just eyed him curiously. chad finished his conversation and hung up, taking a quick glance around the room, a frown appearing on his face before it was replaced with a nonchalant look. ethan had caught the frown, not wanting to confront the bigger man.

“where’s your friend?” chad asked, catching ethan off guard.

ethan made his way from the bed to the table, rummaging through the takeout bags. chad had picked up italian (your favorite). he saw at the bottom of the bag what presumably was your food, your favorite from the restaurant.

“uhm, they’re with mindy for a study session.”

chad let out a hum, going back to his phone and letting the conversation die.

ethan grabbed his food, sitting on his bed, fiddling with the container lid trying to sort his thoughts.

“do you like them?” the words had left his mouth quicker than he could register it.

“what?” chad quickly looked up from his phone, eyeing ethan.

“it’s a simple question, do you like them?”

chad rolled his eyes, sitting up on the mattress.

“no.”

“you’re a horrible liar.”

“what does it matter anyways?”

ethan stilled at the question. he had known you for what felt like forever, and he had yet to make a move. he wasn’t even fully sure if you shared the same feelings, not with you focusing on chad every time he was near.

“it just matters.”

“that’s a shit answer dude.”

“and?”

“you can’t just question people if they like someone out of the blue for no real reason.”

“it mattering is reason enough.”

chad exhaled loudly, a sign he was starting to get agitated.

“it’s really not, do you have something to say to me?”

“do you like them?” ethan asked, hoping to get a truthful answer out of his roommate.

chad ran a hand through his hair, quiet for a moment before answering.

“not that it matters, but i do. but i’m not expecting nor do i want something to happen.”

ethan knew chad was lying with that second statement, he had seen the way chad secretly took care of you, not wanting you to know. he let out a sigh, running his hand over his face.

“i knew it. fuck why do you have to like the same person i like?”

both of them got quiet after that, a beat of silence before they both heard the sounds of your tamogachi keychain, signaling you were there.

you opened the door, and waved to both of them, neither one of them moving. after closing and locking the door, you made a beeline for the table, picking up your food.

“my favorite! you guys are seriously the best.”

chad had a pained look on his face, making your heart clench for some reason. ethan seemingly had enough of whatever moment you were having with chad, grabbing his coat and walking out the front door, muttering something unintelligible.

you stared at the door, not knowing who you should check on, whether it be ethan or chad.

[alicienacorvin]

LFRP: Miss Baivoux - Crystal DC

An elegant woman composed nearly entirely of mysteries and dangers, Miss Baivoux is someone I've only barely gotten to RP and would really, really, really love to have a proper chance to play her.

Miss B has the air and attitude of a noble, but seemingly has no ties to any of the noble houses outside of familiarity on both sides. No one seems to be especially fond of her though. When asked what she does, she claims to be a researcher into magic and alchemy, but rarely will elaborate beyond that. She is a woman with a dark present, past, and future and anyone who wants to get involved with her had better be well aware of that.

In-game RP: Is preferred for the most part, but I am willing to occasionally do Discord stuff in the long run. I have a weird work schedule and travel a fair bit, so sometimes its easier to continue a scene in messages. However, I would prefer to do in-game for the start.

Story Types: I am open to most genre of RP, but Miss B is a particular sort of character. Horror and mystery are for sure to be expected. She is also a non-combatant, so do not expect her to be leading any adventures (unless she had some shield between her and any dangers). While she can occasionally be friendly and open, she is not the sort one has a drink with.

Story Length: I am for sure looking for long-term stories and RP here. Miss B is a character made for long, slow stories. I am also 100% not looking for romance with her, she is aromantic for starters and amoral for seconds.

Misc: I certainly prefer paragraph length RP, but I know there are times when that doesn't work. However, on the whole, I want something meaty that I (and Miss B) can sink teeth into and really get dramatic and moody.

Hooks:

Miss Baivoux is a character steeped in horror tropes. She delves into forbidden magic of every sort she can find.

Are you also into those schools of magic, do you consider yourself a peer of hers? Present yourself to her withering gaze and find out if she thinks you're worthy to consider yourself such.

Are you an amoral merchant who can procure things of extremely dubious legality and flat-out immoral acquisition methods? Maybe she and you can strike up a working relationship.

Are you a young mage, desperate for power and willing to give up everything you have and are? Maybe she could find room for a pupil.

Does she drink a lot of blood? She doesn't think its a lot. Is she a vampire? Who are you and why are you asking so many questions?

If you're interested, add me on discord: squidballoon

Carrd:

[jessthetea]

I guess Jess’s attempt to debunk the breakup rumors and get attention failed tremendously because it didn't get the noise she thought it would. On Twitter, the post only got 10 likes and 3 retweets but comments calling them out for it being old photos, Instagram had 11k likes and that is barely anything along with comments calling Jess out, barely on Facebook and that's it. It is not going viral anywhere because people didn't ask if they were “still going strong” or care about the relationship to begin with except when they officially dated publicly in 2022 at the same time Jamie got his role in Stranger Things which was convenient. (Plus Jamie’s silence and still traveling alone even though he was “supposedly” with Jess isn't helping her case either). Not saying Jamie isn't important or popular because he is and there are plenty of articles and results under his name and still counting even though he's not an A-list celebrity yet, it is just that he's not THAT popular (yet) for paparazzi and media to follow him on every single thing and they definitely don't care about Jess as to why they haven't posted anything about her or their relationship for two going on three years until they recently “cared” about what’s going on. Jess is steadily outing herself that she's behind this and everything else that Josey had facts on her about is true. Now karma is catching up to her and she knows her time of fame that she barely had is coming to an end.

Jamie is certainly not what one would classify as an A-list celebrity, and that much is indisputable. His appeal is far more specialized, perhaps confined to a particular niche or genre. While every life holds its own significance, in the realm of fame, Jamie is neither prominent nor popular enough to attract the relentless attention of the paparazzi on his own.

Even with his role as Vecna in Stranger Things, it’s doubtful he faces the same level of scrutiny as his co-stars. One can quite confidently assert that the more prominent members of the cast contend with the paparazzi far more often than Jamie does. Additionally, the character he portrays bears little resemblance to him, both in appearance and voice, which only serves to make him even less recognizable or prone to public harassment.

Moreover, Jamie hardly seems the sort who is thirsting for fame or attention. Acting and music may be his professions, but one gets the sense that he engages in them out of personal passion, not for the lure of wealth or stardom. Many performers fall into this category—dedicated to their craft, yet choosing to keep a low profile, taking on projects that appeal to them rather than those designed to catapult them into the public eye.

As for Jess, her motives remain somewhat elusive. It’s patently clear that she craves fame, power, and wealth, as her behavior prior to her involvement with Jamie indicated. One might speculate that she believed Jamie was on the cusp of astronomical fame, especially following his portrayal of Vecna in season four, with the promise of season five to come.

Perhaps she imagined he was on the verge of becoming a billionaire, a veritable A-list superstar, and thought she might simply ride his coattails, much as she’s done with Renell and Quil. But Jamie is decidedly not that kind of man, and whatever grand scheme she may have concocted seems to have faltered.

It was rather amusing, in fact, to see the comments on the JustJared photos, with people asking who she was—one even noting her resemblance to Snape from Harry Potter in that particular ensemble!

This only reaffirms the reality that she is largely unknown or, at the very least, utterly irrelevant to most. Even more amusing were the remarks about the photos being old, as if that diminishes their significance entirely.

It seems Jess's brief experience with fame is nearing its inevitable conclusion. Even her most ardent supporters—the stans, irritating though they may be—have grown notably quieter, seemingly less eager to defend her.

They appear to realize her time is nearly up, and I, for one, can’t help but anticipate the fallout. I suspect they’ll all pretend they never supported her in the first place. Whatever the outcome, it’s evident that Jess is desperately clinging to Jamie’s fleeting fame, while he appears to be making every effort to distance himself from her.