#you can see I started my english degree this year?

[floworence]

I absolutely love how mha handles Toshinori and him being The Symbol of Peace.

Horikoshi could've went with the very popular route, having the guy who seems like The Hero™ be secretly corrupt, using the protagonist, the whole, single entity that is responsible for corruption of society, but he didn't do it.

When you first see All Might, you see this God-like figure, worshiped by everyone, someone larger than life. You see all that, and expect him to be a superficial, shallow, asshole who does it all for fame.

And then the reveal happens and we partially see the man behind the legend. Disabled, middle-aged man who is becoming jaded and bitter by the state of the world and heroism at large. First interactions we have with Toshinori Yagi and not All Might?

He is an asshole.

Except he is not.

Looking back at the first interaction he has with Izuku, he is really not trying to be mean, he really is trying to be helpful. He saw first hand what heroism does to people. He experienced it. He knows that heroism chews you up and spits you out, even with such power like OfA. He sees this trembling boy, with stars in his eyes, worshiping him like he is a God and all he sees is yet another person disillusioned with what heroism is, so he tries to keep him safe in the only way he knows at that moment: by crushing his dreams and facing them with harsh reality.

You have to remember that at this point he doesn't know Izuku, his impression of him is only of a hero fanboy who doesn't understand the dangers of hero life. Should have he been softer? More mindful of what he is saying? Yes, of course but this first interaction is important for his characterization.

Why?

Because, we as the audience see him make a mistake.

With this, we see that he is not a God. He is a human, a man, and that is the most important part of his character.

His humanity.

From then on we move onto the training montage, where we see more and more of the man, rather than the legend. We see that he is sassy, silly, caring and a rather mediocre mentor. We see good and bad. During season one and two, we as the audience familiarize ourselves with the man behind All Might, but actually we don't see him fully yet.

We are still like Izuku in a way, we know he is a human, not a God, but there is still this level of invincibility to him, yes he has his limits but still, he is this giant figure casting shadow.

It is not until post Kamino Ward arc we realize on who exactly All Might was casting shadow.

Yes, yes, yes, I know what you are expecting me to say here, that he cast the shadow on other heroes, Izuku, students, Japan, whole world even, and he did but we will get into that in a bit.

The person which was hidden the most was Toshinori Yagi.

It's not a coincidence that not only the story got darker with "All Might" not longer being present but that we also get a lot more moments with Toshinori being vulnerable.

Only after the protective shield of All Might is gone do we really start to see AND understand Toshinori.

We see exactly why he became a hero, his complete disregard for his own self, the workaholism, the pressure he was under to keep it all together.

Then, society collapses in on itself and Toshinori is left with a gaping void in his heart knowing it was all for nothing.

Horikoshi could've had All Might be corrupt, he could've been an asshole looking for fame but instead he made him into this deeply empathetic, caring, kind, loving man who just wanted to save others.

Society's dependence on All Might wasn't Toshinori's fault. He was just one individual put on a pedestal, held to such high standards that it almost killed him. Scratch that, it would've killed him if it wasn't for Izuku.

After Shie Hassaikai Arc, you see one thing that I haven't seen done before.

You see how Toshinori was also the victim of the hero society. You see how that man sees no value in himself except for what he can do for others. He feels completely worthless and undeserving to be even alive.

He wanted to become The Symbol of Peace, yes, but society made him into their only defense with even other pros admitting they are "rusty" because of All Might.

He never wanted to be the only one but after he was put on that pedestal he had the whole world on his shoulders and he carried it for years until the world bled him dry and then discarded him.

People becoming complacent wasn't his fault, he never advocated for everything to be left to him, never bragged he was the best, never made others feel lesser, and yet everyone took him for granted and that ultimately lead to the catastrophe that was the Final War.

You know what is the worst though? That he still felt like it was his fault and he will probably forever carry that guilt with him.

But in the end, it wasn't all guilt. Yes there was the guilt for not being able to stop the war, for indirectly causing the society to become complacent, for not being able to stop his students from risking their lives, probably the guilt of thrusting the weight of the world onto Izuku's shoulders (unknowingly, but that is for another post).

Final war arc is also Toshinori's final arc and his biggest realization.

His realization that Toshinori Yagi and All Might aren't two separate entities. That it's all him. The realization that he also had in the first epilogue: quirk doesn't make the hero, it's the heart.

That's what Iron Might represents. He answers Izuku's question here and he says:

Yes, you can become a hero without a quirk.

And with that, his sclera is once again white, because he is whole and he has hope once again.

[fungateshortcakes]

Pornstar!Logan NSFW

This work is inspired by @bpmiranda and their own pornstar!Logan smut, which you can find here. Please go and check it out, it's so yummy and i hope I am doing this idea justice.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x reader

Summary: Up until now, filming a porn video was only something you joked about. But after your job failed you, this simple 'joke' brought you to a whole new carreer path that you would love to explore further, especially if your co-worker was this handsome man that ruined your pussy for everyone else.

Wordcount: 2.3k -ish

Warnings/tags: pornstar!Logan, pornstar!reader, porn with plot, first porn recording, filmed sex, best friends dad porn, squirting, unprotected penis in vagina sex, pussy pronouns, implied blowjob, basically sex with a stranger, dirty talk, doggy style, Logan is older than reader, cumming on pussy, perverted director, mention of threesome (F/F/M), english isn't my first languange (lmk if i missed something!)

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It had always been a joke. All of this - you just joked about it. But now as you stood in front of this building, the filming location, that's when you truly knew that it was in fact not a joke anymore.

You were about to cast in your first professional porn video.

For years you had been telling your friends, if your degree didn't work out, you'd start selling nsfw art. If your job applications would keep getting rejected, you would become a stripper. It was always something you and your friends could laugh about greatly, but it was never really taken serious in the end. That was about to change.

Throughout the last months, you had taken this career path more and more into your field of interest. Your hated your job, the salary, the people there and your boss. You needed a quick change. So you read about becoming a porn actress, watched interviews with stars of this industry, stating how they got into it, what they had to do, how they coped with everything at the start and much more. You felt ready, but you also didn't really, not when you stood in front of this building and knew that in just an hour, you would be having a stranger pounding his cock into your pussy while everyone around watched.

You took a deep breath as you entered and upon stating your name at the reception desk, you were brought to the second floor where you were greeted by the director.

"Ah, there you are! You're (Y/N), right?" he said and shook your hand with a firm grip. He was the manager of all of this. He had been in this industry for years and sounded very nice from the very start. You felt comfortable as you stood in front of him. You nodded your head. "Yeah, that's me. I hope I am not too late?" you asked nervously, biting your lip. You really didn't need to leave a bad expression right on the first day.

He laughed and shook his head "No, don't worry. You're just in time to meet the guy you're gonna work with today. You're gonna like him." he said and winked at you. You had already heard a bit about the man that would, to put it as is, fuck you today. They praised him highly, told you that you should be happy to have the opportunity with him because he gets so many requests from porn actresses every day.

Richie shoved you through a crowd of working people to a cozy break corner for the actors. There he stood. And wow. He already wore his outfit for the upcoming video. It was a plain black shirt, a thick belt and rugged jeans, but damn. He looked good.

Upon seeing you, a smirk spread across his lips and he stood up, hands in his pockets. "That's Mr. Howlett. Your lover for today" Richie chuckled as he introduced you to him.

"Call me Logan, sweets. Nice to meet you, heard a lot about ya" Logan said and his voice alone made your pussy throb. You both shook hands and you told him your name as well. It would be a lie if you said you weren't anxious. Your heart was beating out of your throat. You were intimidated by your work partners looks and the fact that he was a lot more experienced in this field than you. He looked very charming and handsome, picture perfect like some famous hollywood actor. And you were just, well, you. You felt like you couldn't compete with that in the slightest.

The time you had to speak to him, get to know him at least a little bit before his cock was in your mouth, was limited, because you were pulled to different stations by different people left and right, getting you into costume, fixing your make-up and hair, even checking if you had shaved down there properly. It was all so much at once, but Logan was always watching over you, weirdly enough, reassuring you. Truth be told, he saw himself when he looked at you. He was pretty confident by nature, but when he first started out in this business, he was overwhelmed and unsure at first as well. So he felt deep sympathy with you, even if you didn't know that.

Now you stood at the set with your two co-stars, Logan and some other woman who you didn't know the name of because she was so minor to the scene. She was only there to play your best friend from college. Your best friend with a smoking hot single father.

Your nerves were killing you as you stood in the pre-build bedroom with your co-star. You took a deep breath and decided to go with the flow. You knew the script, you knew the movements and looks, so there wasn't really anything that could go wrong. Right? "Okay, cameras, lights, action!" Richie yelled over the set. Now there was no going back.

You flopped down on your friends bed with a sigh. "This assigment is killing me. We've been working on it for days now and we aren't getting anywhere" you scoffed. Your on screen friend agreed with you, voicing her anger towards the professor as well.

You started acting like you were starting to unpack your bag when you heard a car engine. Your co-star groaned. "Perfect, now my dad's here. He normally works longer than that" she said. You had never met her dad, he was always at work when you were over. "Lindsay, I'm home!" Logan called before he stepped into the room, stopping in his tracks as he saw you. The camera zoomed in on your slightly shocked face, taking in your agape mouth and how your eyes clouded over. You crossed your leg over the other as warmth spread through your core.

Logan smirked at you, leaning against the doorframe. "So, you are the girl my daughter has been doing that assigment with, I assume? Nice to meet you, I'm her old man." he spoke in his deep voice, extending a warm, strong hand out for you to shake, a knowing look being shared between you as he eyed you up and down, pratically undressing you with his gaze only.

The director yelled cut. You let out a nervous sigh. This worked out way better than you had imagined, but that was just the easy part of this whole thing.

Though, the second Logan pushed the tip of his cock into your sopping pussy with a relieved smile on his lips that wasn't part of the script, you couldn't care less about your insecurities or worries. The words you were supposed to say just came naturally with the way he fucked you open. "Such a greedy little cunt, she is practically sucking me in" he groaned, one hand pushing your head into the pillows of his daughters bed.

"You really needed this, huh? Needed a big fucking cock to pound your pussy. The boys in college just don't cut it, am I right?" He groaned, enjoying the way your pussy tightened around his throbbing shaft. How could a cock feel this good? Logan could ask you the same thing - how could a fucking pussy be this tight and warm and just sopping wet?

Logan watched your face being squished against the pillows, slurring your words while you drooled. He smirked. You were made for this, the camera was eating you up like this. A shiver ran down his spine as he thought about using this video when he was at home to get off. He leaned down to your ear, his plush lips kissing and biting at the shell before he whispered something only for you to hear "What a natural you are. Gotta have to request you as my partner more often from now on, don't I?" he was whispering in such a hot, breathless voice, it almost made you cum before you even should. He could feel that. And oh boy did it feed his ego.

"Does it turn you on? Being fucked on your best friends bed? By her dad?" Logan rumbled in character, kneading your tits. It took you a while to get a hold of your thoughts and the script, so Logan used that silence to keep whispering in your ear how fucking pretty your tits were. "Y-yes! I...I love it" you slurred, your voice raw from the moans you couldn't hold back for the life of you.

Logan hummed pleased. "Oh I bet you do, baby. Already so cockdrunk for me"

Your pussy felt so good with the way he was dragging his cock in and out, reaching places inside you you didn't knew existed. It was funny to you - you were supposed to fake moan and falsely contort your face in pleasure - but you didn't have to do any of that. If anything, you needed to shut up. You were moaning so loud and so prettily for Logan, it was almost excessive. You just couldn't help yourself. Every time you tried to shut your mouth, Logan would notice and pound into your sweet spot. He couldn't have you denying him of your cute sounds.

Not long and the scene ended with you squirting all over his cock and the sheets. That wasn't initially meant to happen, but with the way Logan was fucking you, you lost control as your orgasm hit. Logan tried to mask his surprise by going off script, continuing to circle your clit "Yes, such a good girl. Keep making a mess for me, baby" he groaned into your neck. You squirmed in his grasp, the overstimulation too much as you felt him cumming over your pussy. He hadn't expected you squirting, but it served perfectly to make him cum like he hadn't in a while.

Richie yelled cut again and Logan let go of your hips, making you fall flat onto the drenched sheets, completely boneless. You could hear faint applause and a warm hand on your back. As Richie approached the bed, Logan was quick to bring you his fluffy robe and wrapped it around you aftwr helping your shaken form to sit up, shielding you from prying eyes. The crew was highly professional for the most part, but there were some creeps shamelessly goggling at the actresses, especially newcomers. Sometimes Richie was one of them...

So Logan had a protective hand around your back, sprawled over your waist to keep you pressed into his side while you regained your composure. You were tired and worn out, but in a very very good way. Your core buzzed with warmth and so did the rest of your body. Without realising, you leaned your head onto Logans shoulders, softly closing your eyes for a moment. It made his heart skip a beat.

"Jesus Christ, you two were really going at it, huh?" Richie grinned and clapped his hands together. "I am deeply impressed with you, rookie. The camera loved you. Didn't even have to correct you at all. Can't believe you haven't done this before" the middle aged man chuckled and tried to discreetly pear down your cleavage to which Logan covered your upper body a bit more, staring Richie down. You didn't feel all too safe now, especially in your slight dazed state. But Logan was there and somehow being able to nuzzle into him for protection eased your mind greatly. "You two can go and take a break. I have Mirinda, Mandy and Josh for the next sesh. But after that, I'd like to see you both in action again. Maybe with another woman as well, how would you like that?"

Logan declined for you with a slight bite to his voice, excusing you and himself after he had wrapped a towel around his hips and brought you to his dressing room. Richie wasn't a bad man. But he was far from being appropriate at times. It happened rarely and mostly only to actresses who had been in this industry for years, but they knew how to treat directors like him for rude staring not to happen. But you were still so young and inexperienced with everything, so anxious and nervous. Logan wanted to protect that. Protect you. The industry was tough and he didn't want you to break under all of this like he did in the beginning himself.

"Thank you for uhm...getting me out of there" you mumbled as you began to dress yourself again with the clothes you had arrived in. You chuckled to yourself as Logan turned around when you put on your bra and underwear as if he hadn't just conpletely seen you bare and ruined you for every other man.

He scoffed. "Not for that. It was the least I could do. Sometimes he gets a bit creepy, but he his decent. He doesn't do more than stare, fortunately. Still, I'm sorry you had to endure that on your first day. But that's, sadly, how it is" he answered, pulling his shirt over his head and you shamelessly watched his muscles dip and contract from his movements.

You buttoned up your blouse and shrugged. "I expected it, honestly. But you were my knight in shining armor, or lack there of-" you laughed and Logan couldn't help but chuckle alongside you. "- so it wasn’t that bad. At least the sex was good"

Logan smirked. "It was?" he asked with a cocky undertone. He knew that it was, but hearing it from you directly made his chest flutter. Not that he would ever admit that. You nodded with a hum, slightly chewing on your bottom lip.

"I have to say the same. You have a great pussy" he blurts out, making both of you laugh. "There is more where that came from, lover boy" it was very easy to be comfortable around Logan and it made you feel a little less lost. It made you feel like you had a guiding hand and you were so grateful that he was there. It wasn’t his job to be your caretaker, he wasn't getting paid to tell you how to do things or protect you from backhanded nasty comments from filming crew members. But you were glad he instantly took you under his wing like this.

You couldn't wait to shoot with him again

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I had so much fun writing this! Let me hear your thoughts, do you want a part two?

And don't be scared, there is also going to be more sub!Logan soon and a few fluff drabbles as well. Stay tuned!

[endzithefangirl]

"I'm gong to put 'being a WAG' on my CV"

Authors note: Here's a little Max Verstappen x TechCEO!Reader. Bet you didn't see that comng. Anyway, got the idea for this a few days ago, and I guess my love of Italian food made me finish this

Summary: Max's new relatioship causes a social media stir, but the new couple couldn't care less whilst in Italy.

Warnings: English isn't my first language, no use of Y/N, female reader, famous reader

Word count: 2k

You understood it, to a degree. Max had just broken off a three-year-long relationship right before summer break, and now suddenly he was spending the summer with you. Now you’re at the paddock... No wonder people thought there was some crossover.

The truth? You two met last New Year's at a party for some sporting event. You, being one of the sponsors for your country's national sports committee, were invited, and Max... well, Max was Max Verstappen. You hit it off, exchanged numbers, showed him around your company a few times, and took him to all of your favorite restaurants in NYC. But you knew he had a girlfriend; everyone knew. And he was taking care of her kid too.

That breakup was hard on him. He had stopped loving her, but he couldn't just kick a woman and her kid out of his house. Max waited for them to have a huge fight, and then they just... broke up. And to your surprise, he was in New York the next day, saying that he needed someone to talk to. Bullshit. You knew he liked you. Otherwise, he wouldn't have come all the way here 'just to talk.'

But here you were, in Italy, spending time with him before Monza. You were currently typing away on your phone, trying to make peace in the finance department. Max glanced up from his phone every so often, stealing peeks at you while grinning.

He had never quite been so into someone like you. You were smart, funny, talented, pretty, and on top of all that - you were also rich. But you were also the most challenging girl to flirt with Max had ever met.

"You look like you could use a break," he said, after watching you tap away at your work laptop for a few minutes.

"Probably. What's the point of having interns if they don't do anything?"

"Then you should consider hiring me; I'm pretty good at helping out," Max teased, looking up from his phone and sending you a cheeky smile. He loved a woman who was in power, who knew what she was doing, and he could tell you were used to being the boss. "Come on, take a break. You know you deserve it," Max encouraged, resting his hand on top of yours to stop you from working some more.

"I guess I could eat…" You say, closing your laptop. "I saw on Google Maps that there’s a nice pizza place down the road. We can go if you’re hungry.”

Max smiled and nodded. “Yes, I’m starving; let’s go,” he said, reaching for the car keys.

“No, it’s okay, let’s walk,” you stop him. He turned towards you, slightly confused. Usually, women would give anything to drive around with Max Verstappen. Maybe that’s just what makes you special.

The two of you walked out of the hotel, your bodyguard Lenny standing outside the door. The tall, muscular man just nodded as the two of you entered the elevator. Max found it funny that you preferred Lenny guard your stuff more than you. Especially the laptop. He sometimes wondered what you kept in there...

“Is Pierre gonna be at the race?” you asked as you exited the building, breaking the silence.

Max’s head snapped towards you, and he raised his brow. “Uh, yes, of course he is… Why?”

“Because I want to see Kika.”

“Oh, so she’s your secret F1 crush, eh?” Max said, relaxing.

You laughed. “Pierre is a solid seven with a better haircut. Kika is a twelve on a bad day.”

As you got to the bigger streets, you started to understand why Max drove everywhere. Unlike you, who were a chiller and niche celebrity, despite being incredibly rich, Max was a real superstar. Your short walk to the pizza shop became a fan meet and greet, with people coming up to you every three seconds and asking for photos.

“Is this your girlfriend?” one of the people asking for a picture asked. As you finished taking the photo, you noticed Max’s slightly flustered face as he heard the question. He stumbled, but you answered with a simple “Yeah.”

As you arrived at the restaurant, you noticed that Max was staring at you. He seemed… surprised. You laughed at his facial expression. The sound of your laugh calmed him instantly, his heartbeat beginning to return to normal. Max cursed himself in his head; he was better than this. He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Is it something I said?"

Max ran a hand through his hair, feeling his cheeks heating up slightly. "No, no... Not really," he reassured you, trying to sound casual. "I was just... thinking."

"Okay, well I'm thinking about the food. I think a Vesuvius sounds great right now."

Max chuckled and quickly glanced down at the menu to hide his embarrassment. "Vesuvius? What the hell is a Vesuvius?" he asked, though his eyes scanned down the menu, searching for it.

"It's a type of pizza," you teased. "It's been like three minutes; have you not even skimmed the menu?"

Max fidgeted under your gaze, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks again. "What?" he asked with a nervous chuckle. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You tell me. Why are you staring?" Max shook his head, glancing up at you questioningly. He had no idea what you were thinking about. "No... What are you thinking about?" he asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"There are pots from 4000 years ago found in ancient Egypt that are made out of an incredibly difficult to manage material and are cut to such perfection that they balance on their round bottom."

Max's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was expecting something totally different. Something that had at least a little bit to do with him. He chuckled, still somewhat surprised as he studied your face. "Where did that come from?" he asked incredulously.

"The Egyptians. They were like, cooking pots and stuff. Royal cooking pots probably, but still," you teased.

Max chuckled again, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're thinking about cooking pots, and here I am, just trying to figure out what I did to make you say that we're together so casually."

"What do you mean? Are we not together?"

"Well, of course we're together," Max said, his voice taking on a more serious tone now. He glanced around the restaurant briefly, making sure no one was listening in on their conversation. "I just... I didn't expect you to say it so casually," he said, his eyes meeting yours again.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know we were keeping it a secret. I mean, I was at the paddock and all last time, and I took days off work to come to this race—"

Max shook his head, realizing you completely misunderstood what he was saying. "No, no, it's not that... I just..." he began, struggling to find the right words. He took a deep breath, his fingers fidgeting in his lap. "It's just... you're so casual about it... and I'm... a bit too flustered for my own good," he admitted, a tinge of embarrassment in his voice.

You softened up a bit. "Oh, okay, I get it. It was just a bit too shocking for you... Yeah, sorry."

Max felt his heartbeat a little faster when you softened, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, it was a bit... unexpected for me," he chuckled, feeling somewhat silly for being so flustered. "But it's fine, honestly."

"Do you think my stomach is gonna have space for gelato later? There's a really good gelateria; I can see it from the window... They make the ones with the macarons..."

Max chuckled, loving how you were so excited about the gelato. "Well, based on the amount of pizza you usually eat," he teased, a smirk on his face. "I'd say you're probably fine."

"No, they put the macarons on the gelato."

"On the gelato?" Max repeated, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"I've never heard of such a thing," he said, leaning forward to get a better look out the window at the gelateria you were talking about. "Well, in that case," he said with a grin, "we're definitely going there for dessert."

After eating so much that your belts barely held, you came back to the hotel, Lenny greeting you at the door as usual. Max's stomach was stuffed to the brim, but he was in such a good mood from the good food and even better company, he didn't even care. He walked back into the hotel together with you, his hand still holding yours. Lenny greeted the two of you as usual, but Max couldn't help but notice the way Lenny looked at you, like he was analyzing you.

"All good, Len. You go to your room for the night," you said to Lenny. He nodded, smiled at the both of you, and then went off. Max watched as Lenny walked off, then turned to you, a small frown on his face.

"He was looking at you funny," he said, a protective edge to his voice.

"He thinks it's funny. That I'm dating a Formula 1 driver."

"What's so funny about that?" he protested, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. "He just... I don't know, he's a big fan of yours I don't think he's processed it yet". Max's frown relaxed as you explained it, his ego immediately soothed a bit. Of course he was a big fan of his, who wasn't?

"Oh, so he's a big fan?" he teased, a hint of pride and cockiness in his voice.

You take your shoes off and lay on the bed, your stomach bloated from all the good food "Yeah. Talk to him a bit, I think it'll make him happy" You let out groan as you move "I hate you Italy. You has so much good food... I love it though"

Max chuckled, watching as you dramatically threw yourself onto the bed, your stomach protesting the amount of food you just had. "You're such a drama queen sometimes," he teased, grinning as he took off his shoes as well and joined you on the bed. He lays down beside you, running a hand over your bloated stomach. "You'll be fine," he said, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Oh, you know what I saw on TikTok?"

Max raised an eyebrow in curiosity, his hand now resting on your stomach. He didn't typically pay too much attention to TikTok, but he was more than happy to listen to you.

"What did you see?" he asked, turning his head to look at you.

"Well first of all, I'm a WAG now. Thank you for that, I will be putting that on my CV. But second, they liked that I was wearing Red Bull merch. I thought they wouldn't like it, but they did"

Max chuckled as you spoke, amused by how casually you mentioned being a WAG, and how seriously you were taking the fact that you were wearing Red Bull merchandise. "Well, of course they liked it," he said with a smirk. "You were wearing the merch of the best team out there."

He gave you a smug look, his hand moving up and tracing a lazy pattern on your stomach. "Not to mention the merch of the best driver out there."

[bontentrio]

ATEEZ GETTING OUT OF THE FRIENDZONE

hongjoong x gn reader + seonghwa x gn reader (separated)

this is a continuation of ateez stuck in the friendzone, read that part first so it makes sense!

tw: tooth rotting fluff (+ keep in mind that english is not my first language)

a/n: originally i was gonna make the 8 different scenarios in one single post but then i got reaaaaally carried away (friends to lovers IS my favorite trope after all), and realized it’s probably gonna happen with the rest of the members as well. so be patient please!

masterlist

HONGJOONG

hongjoong was sure he was going to explode if you didn’t stop your actions in the next following minutes. it started casual, occasionally patting his shoulder in agreement with whatever he was saying at the moment. then, he started short circuiting when you scooted closer to his chair in order to see his screen as he helped you out with new stickers for your laptop. the new distance you established was a bit closer than normal: he believed that he could pull you on his lap with a single movement if he was brave enough.

yet he couldn’t cross that boundary, reason why he was feeling like a ticking time bomb.

“do you think i’m printing too many?” you asked, as you downloaded another sticker from pinterest. hongjoong smiled, finding the amount of fairy cat stickers you downloaded endearing. “knowing you, you’ll end up sticking the rest anywhere plain, or on my laptop” he said in response, earning a chuckle from you.

“you know me too well hongjoong” you said in between giggles, before throwing your hand behind the back of his head as you played with strands of his hair. your attention went back to the screen though, but in contrast he could only think about the way your fingers felt against his scalp. unconsciously, his eyes turned to you: he always knew you were beautiful, he didn’t just fall for your personality. but sometimes he couldn’t help but notice small aspects that normally would go unnoticed by the rest: how you would play with your lips whenever you’re focused on something, the way you would squint adorably as you tried to read small phrases on the screen. also your eyes, he could get lost on them forever and wouldn’t even care. in moments like this, he would also focus on your lips, mind wandering about how they would feel against his or-

“joong, is everything okay?” you asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. he blinked rapidly, regaining his composure and fake coughing. “what’s going on in that pretty genius head of yours?” you taunted, getting closer to his face.

“trust me, you wouldn’t want to know” he muttered in a low voice, but you heard him anyways. “i’m asking because i want to know, you can tell me anything, i’m your best friend”

“that’s exactly the problem y/n” he sighed, turning his gaze back on the screen, finding the satoru gojo cat suddenly super interesting.

what you did next set the timer in him though: you grabbed his chin and turned his face back to you, staring curiously. “i want to know, joong” you said in a firm voice. your eyes remained interlocked for a few moments, but hongjoong’s patience started running extremely thin. “i can show you” he whspered back, gaze going back to your lips. your hand left the back of his head and went down to his neck, pulling his face even closer as you nodded in response.

hongjoong closed the distance between you, finally pressing his lips against yours softly. you tasted the way he imagined: faint traces of strawberry from the chapstick he once gifted you, the one you refused to change despite the years. his lips moved against yours in sync, as his hands cupped your face, angling it to a degree so he could taste you better.

he thought he could kiss you forever and never get tired or bored, reason why he also felt disappointed when you pulled away. he chased you lips, so you pecked him as you tried to suppress a smirk from creeping on your face.

“finally” you admitted, causing him to look at you questioningly. “i wanted to do that for a while, joong”

“you literally friendzoned me more times than i can remember” he pointed out, shock evident on his face. “i don’t get touchy with just anyone! i had to camouflage it somehow” you said in response, blushing. “plus i also thought that’s how you viewed me, just a friend”.

“hell no, y/n never say that word around me again” he said, finally giving in to his initial thought as he pulled you on his lap in one smooth movement, making you laugh. you cupped his face, looking at him intently. “i like you, joong” you whispered. “you have absolutely no idea how much i adore you” he answered, before crashing his lips against yours again.

now that he knew how you tasted, he was never going to let you go again. you’re his new addiction, just like he always imagined.

SEONGHWA

“i still can’t believe my friend is getting married to him” you said, as you finished applying your lipstick before turning back to seonghwa. he was standing next to the window, admiring the view from the luxurious hotel while you finished preparing for the wedding reception. he was already dressed in a gorgeous wine colored suit, which was a bit oversized yet still looked formal on him.

your friend had announced a few months ago that she forgave her boyfriend for cheating, claiming that it was just a “drunken mistake”. she also informed you that she was getting married too, having already set the date and venue, and telling you that you could bring a plus one. of course, you immediately dialed seonghwa, not just to spill the hot gossip but also to invite him. he immediately agreed.

“that marriage is already doomed” he said, turning his gaze back on you, chuckling. “but at least we get an opportunity to stay at a fancy hotel, get all dolled up and then party” you pointed out, carefully pulling out your outfit from your suitcase. you had picked a dark blue long dress, that had the back open. you had picked it because it reminded you of the yellow dress from “how to lose a guy in 10 days”, which, by the way, seonghwa found absolutely gorgeous. in fact, he chose the color of his outfit to match yours.

“very true, the hotel is amazing” he said, turning back to the window “i didn’t know what to expect when you told me it was in the middle of literally nowhere”. you laughed in response as you exclaimed ‘right?!’, before entering the bathroom to get dressed.

a few moments later, seonghwa found himself having difficulty to breathe due to how gorgeous and breathtaking you looked. the dress fit your body like a glove, and when you did a little turn to show it from the back, he had to literally control himself from crossing the friendship boundary. “so? how do i look hwa?” you asked him, a little nervous. seonghwa walked towards you, holding your hand as he twirled you around, before setting both of his hands on your waist. his eyes, unbeknownst to you, were holding so much love and devotion, yet you failed to realize it. “if i was the bride i’d kick you out for stealing my spotlight” he said, earning a chuckle as you cupped his cheek. he unconsciously leaned in to the palm of your hand, wanting more of your touch. “thank you hwa, you look mesmerizing too” you said. you both stared at each other, too lost on the small intimate moment you were having.

in seonghwa’s opinion, it ended too soon, as you broke away the moment you started blushing intensely. “come, i’ll do your hair” you said, fake coughing as you led him to your shared bed for the night. you climbed on the bed and sat behind him, and seonghwa was sure he died and went to heaven. he unconsciously closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your fingers combing his long hair into a half ponytail. once you were done, you straightened your dress and grabbed his hand.

“ready to go?” you asked, smiling. he nodded.

———

the ceremony was beautiful, and even the vows you and seonghwa swore would be questionable ended up being terribly adorable. once the groom finished what he had to say, seonghwa whispered in your ear “cute, but i still think this is doomed”, making you laugh silently in your place while simultaneously getting side eyed by other guests.

as the night went by, you found yourself in the need of fresh air from all the intense partying inside the venue. as if seonghwa read your mind, he pulled you from the dancing crowd and led you to the garden with your hands intertwined.

“thank you, i was starting to feel overwhelmed” you thanked him once outside. he nodded, smiling “i could see it on your face”.

“you always seem to know what i’m thinking about, hwa. you’re amazing” you said, in a low voice that only he could hear from his place next to you. “of course, i’m the only exception, right?” he said. you nodded “you’re also my only exception, y/n” he added, now turning his body to face you entirely.

the garden was lit with tiny lights and candles all over the place, and thankfully the sky was clear enough you could see the stars. you could hear a slow dance playing in the background, belonging to the main venue where everyone watched the newlyweds waltz.

“wanna dance?” seonghwa asked, taking notice of the way your gaze switched from him to the main couple. you looked at him once again and smiled “i don’t feel like going back so soon, can we dance here?” you asked. “of course” he answered, taking a better hold of your hand as his other wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer. funny, you didn’t even realize you were still holding hands. it almost felt natural to you.

you slow danced to the faint music, and you could feel your heart beat louder and louder with each step. a strange feeling bubbled up on your chest, before lifting up your head from his chest to face him. he was already looking at you, making the feeling more intense. “hwa, can i ask you something?” you asked, earning a hum from him. “anything”.

“why am i your only exception?” you asked in a whisper. you saw the faint blush creeping on his cheeks as he sighed, thinking of different ways to approach the topic. “i think you’re the only one who has ever made me feel the way i feel” he answered, deciding to just spill the truth he was yearning to say. “you’re the only exception because you are the only one for me”.

as soon as he finished saying that, his hands dropped to his sides, as he took a few steps back, giving you space. “i’m sorry i can’t continue being your best friend, not when i feel the way i feel every time i see you”, he said, loud enough for you to hear while averting his gaze.

yet you always managed to surprise him. he was sure you would feel disgusted, betrayed that your best friend of years suddenly viewed you in a different light. but instead, you approached him again, hugging him close and shaking your head. “i don’t want to lose you” you started saying, feeling the way he slowly and cautiously wrapped his arms around your waist. “but also i would be a fool to ignore the butterflies in my stomach when you say such beautiful things. can you, i mean, can we give each other a chance?” you asked, voice trembling in fear of ruining it.

he cupped your face, thumb smoothing your right cheek. you realized that his stare held a lot more than you initially noticed, for how long did he look at you light that? for how long have you been dismissing his feelings? your questions subdued as he leaned closer, lips now only inches apart. he looked straight to your eyes, as if asking for your permission. you nodded, closing your eyes before his soft lips touched yours.

as cliche as it sounds, you felt like fireworks erupted inside of you. it just felt so right, so genuine and like nothing you experienced before. it felt like the first time you ever experienced love as a teenager, but now you were older and wiser. seonghwa wasn’t just your best friend, he was also your only exception, the only one for you.

on seonghwa’s side, he further proved his point of being meant for each other.

[kuuhaiyu]

help shimaa's family! ❤️

today i want to tell you about my friend shimaa and her family.

shimaa, also spelled shaima in english, is a talented 22 year old graphic designer from gaza. before the war started, she planned to get her master's degree. unfortunately, the war has stolen that dream away, along with her home and the lives of her family members.

now, shimaa is doing her best to provide for her family, including:

her grandmother who has alzheimer's, and whose wheelchair was recently destroyed by an airstrike;

her mother, who was recently wounded by a bullet and needed surgery to take it out;

and her nephew, who suffers from a cardiovascular condition and needs a liver transplant as well.

this is her nephew, jihad, who was orphaned during the war. he was the only survivor when his house was bombed. fortunately, he has survived to this day. with our support, shimaa can pay for the food, daily necessities, and medical expenses that jihad and the rest of her family needs.

want to support shimaa? you can donate to her fundraiser here!

as someone who has been personally in contact with shimaa, i'm willing to vouch for her and the authenticity of this fundraiser.

even as little as $5 can make a big difference. if you can spare $5 from your paycheck, please consider donating today! ❤️

other ways to support shimaa:

reblog and share this post!

follow her on twitter!

donate directly to her bank account! money from the gofundme can take months to arrive, but money wired directly to her is available within just a few days. shimaa urgently needs to buy a wheelchair for her grandmother, among other medical necessities for her family. anything you can spare helps.

leave a message of support in the tags, replies, or by messaging shimaa directly on twitter or whatsapp! i'll be sharing any messages of support i see with her.

for those of you who want to donate, but don't have a lot of energy to figure it out, you can message me for my paypal and i would be happy to forward your donation to shimaa on your behalf!

remember, if you send me proof of your donation, you can receive free art from me!

thank you to everyone who reads this, who shares it, and who donates from the generosity of their hearts. together we can make a difference in shimaa's life.

[steviewashere]

I want to write something sort of meta, hear me out on it. Sorry, if this hits too close to home. The idea came to me and I needed to get it out of my system. And...would you look at that, another half-written fic.

Steve ends up getting really into Star Wars after Dustin shows him to it. Like, so much that he gets himself involved with conventions, cosplay, collecting anything and everything he can. He's involved in a fandom space. Learns the world of fan fiction. And let's say that maybe, during his time figuring out where he wants to go with life, he picks up writing fanfic as a hobby.

It encourages him to get an English degree. Encourages him to lean more into that hobby, but then expanding upon it to write original short stories and small novels that go published. But he holds strong to Star Wars and fandom and finding his spot cemented in it. He's been a fan for...nearly forty years at this point (set in 2024, ugh I know).

And maybe he dabbles in online spaces here and there. He ignores the insufferable adults in the Star Wars fandom (the "um, actually..." guys, btw). Indulges the effort of typing out his handwritten fan fiction, ones he used to bring and pass around at conventions, ones he'd let Eddie read with a shy look in his eyes. And he posts them online, has a Tumblr account, maybe does a few short things on Twitter, definitely is on AO3 (albeit newer, having never attempted online fan work before).

But then...then he gets his first little bit of hate. Vicious, gross comments on his work. Sometimes in private messages. Even publicly, once, on Twitter. It irks him. He holds strong, he does. But then it gets worse and worse and somehow, worse. Younger people claiming he's too old, others claiming that he can't write for certain characters because they're out of his age range, that he can't ship certain people, he can't say that a character would do this or that, that Star Wars is media for a younger audience (despite being somebody who saw it "back in the day"). But that he...That he's not supposed to be there.

And that last little comment sticks with him for a long time. It makes his effort and his attention and his love for writing fanworks falter. He stops. Thinks about the characters he loves, of Leia and Han or even Luke and Han or Lando and Han (listen he loves writing Han). But then he wonders if it's even worth it, to indulge this interest anymore. Yeah, maybe he's older than the source material. Sure, maybe he was introduced to it a little later than most, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love it. Yet, his attention towards Star Wars completely falls away.

He stops watching it. His DVDs going dusty and unused. Starts putting away all his action figures, because what if he posts a photo one day and somebody sees them and claims that that's not for him and—

Then, he goes completely offline from fandom. Even if he still gets the emails from users who actually enjoy his stuff, ignoring them completely. Focuses on using the internet for work. For his novels, for the little stories he actually gets paid to write. But his work just isn't the same. The passion, despite being an original story and original source material, is completely dwindled.

His hobby has been stripped from him. His interest has been knocked straight out of his hands. And he just...moves on.

Even if it hurts to go down into the basement of he and Eddie's home, eyes catching on the see-through bins of original action figures, Lego sets, comic books. Even if it makes something strangle in his chest when he opens up the browser on his phone and it immediately opens to a new ship he'd been getting into: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker—because he finally picked up The Mandalorian, because he was finally talked into watching it when he had the free time.

And then it all bursts over when Eddie finally approaches him about it, when they're enjoying a night-in, sitting around lazily on their sofa.

"There's a convention coming into town," he comments, "supposedly, Hayden Christensen is going to be there. We should go, try and meet him."

Steve just grunts in response.

"Oh-kay...or we could just stay home and watch the movie?" Eddie suggests. "Been a while since I've seen Darth on screen, telling Luke about"—

"I don't want to," Steve cuts in quietly, "isn't really my thing anymore."

Silence then follows. For a beat. Then two. A third.

"Not your thing?" Eddie asks him incredulously. "Not too long ago you were raving all about that new show that's coming out! That you saw they were doing lightsaber whips and you were excited to see how they worked! What do you mean it's 'not your thing'?"

Steve shrugs. "Grew out of it or whatever. Got more important things to focus on now." He sniffs, trying to keep himself held together, grumpy and firm in his decision.

Eddie's stare drills into the side of his face. Scalding, just like that lava was in Revenge of The Sith. "Baby," he speaks softly, "did something happen? You haven't even...you don't read your beautiful little stories to me anymore. In fact, now that I think about it, I haven't even seen your lightsabers around here. What's goin' on?"

He fiddles with the hem of his shirt. A ratty plain white t-shirt that he wears now when he's lounging around the house. It used to be one with the Millennium Falcon on it, but that's tucked down far in his dresser. Not for him anymore.

"Steve," Eddie presses, "did something happen?"

His stare stays down at his lap, still fiddling with his shirt. Fingers flexing unfamiliarly in the strings, unlike the loose ones on his Star Wars shirts. "I just"—Steve heaves a deep sigh—"it's time I grow up. It's...not for me anymore. Too old for it now, I guess."

"You guess or you know? Because nobody's too old for anything. Unless, y'know, you're like eighty-nine and in terrible health and trying to hike Everest, then..."

Despite everything, Steve finds himself chuckling. A giddy little sound here and gone in a breath. He shrugs again, albeit smaller this time. Crumbling within himself. Quietly, honestly, he admits, "People were being mean to me about it online. About my writing. That I'm doing it wrong, that I—that I'm too old for it. That I don't belong because of my age." He finally brings himself to look at Eddie, blearily because his eyes are aching and wet. "I got to thinking and I...maybe I've just been too caught up in my own bliss to realize that those people are right. They're right and I shouldn't be into kids stuff anymore."

Eddie makes a soft, sad cooing noise in the back of his throat. "Oh, baby," he breathes. "Baby, those people don't know a single damn thing about your love. But...but I do. I know that you've seen every single Star Wars movie more times than I've probably eaten in my entire life. And what about all those Halloween costumes over the years? I didn't dress up like Leia for nothing, Mr. Solo."

Steve scoffs wetly. Goes to protest, but—

"And...and that handshake! The one with Dustin? You guys have had that for nearly forty fucking years! So, why bother indulging any of these...these hardasses on the internet? Did they sit next to you on the sofa as you fucking curled yourself like a shrimp and wrote every little intricate detail of a kiss between Luke and Han? Have they read your work while you blushed all shy, while you tucked your hair behind your ear and asked for the most earnest of feedback, to make sure you spelt things correctly or put a comma in the right place? These people, did they get to see you blossom and grow like a fucking bushel of roses over your hobby?

"Because I know I did. And even though you were nervous about your words on the paper, you still came to me. You still wrote and wrote and wrote until I had to bully you into breaks, just so you wouldn't ruin your poor wrists. If they had even an ounce of the passion that you do, they could write their own stories. They can make their own endings and make the characters the way they imagine them.

"They choose, instead, to—what—make fun of you because you have a space to express yourself? Because you found passion and turned it into something so beautiful, even I—a dungeon master, someone supposed to be amazing at storytelling—can't put into words? You found a way to do that, Steve. And you do that with kindness. You do it for free, mind you. If their only passion sits within sending you vitriol over people who aren't even remotely close to real, then they're the ones who don't belong.

"If I've learned anything, fandom is a space to share and bounce off each other's words. It's community and it's belonging and it's sharing what you love because you just love it. Fandom isn't bullying. Bullying is just bullying, Steve.

"And everything you've ever done in your life, in regards to fandom and outside of it, is so much better than hate. You may be a nerd or...or a little bit overzealous or whatever, but at least you aren't hateful. I think being hateful, that's worse—don't you think?"

Steve can only stare in response, fast tears down his cheeks, hands shaking in his shirt. Mind reeling. Because, yes, Eddie's right. And he maybe should've talked about it initially, but the hurt festered and festered and tangled and grew until he was nothing but an unhealed scab. And Eddie, he's the antiseptic to his uncovered cuts—the ones deep on his heart, where all his love is—even for things considered mundane, like movies, like TV shows.

"Steve," Eddie carefully murmurs, wrapping Steve's hands with his own, "you don't have to do something right to love it. You don't have to be a certain way to be happy. If Star Wars made you happy, then why give it up?"

He sniffles and chokes back on a sob. Because, again—damnit—Eddie's right. "I miss it," he admits quietly, "all I've done is miss it."

Eddie gives him a small smile. Something achingly soft that reaches deep within Steve. "Then open your arms and welcome it back, baby," he whispers, "even if you can't be online anymore, do it for yourself."

"I...I want to try it again, I'm just...scared. What if people hate it all over again? What if they're just nasty to me and shut me down and push me to the side and"—

"But what if they love it? What if your readers have missed you just as much?"

"You think?" he meekly asks.

Eddie's eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. "I know, actually. Your emails keep coming in on the computer's desktop because I keep forgetting to log you out. And, baby, you would not believe how many people have been eager for updates, for your return." His thumbs work into the backs of Steve's hands, warm and sure. "And, if it helps, maybe I can moderate your comments before you look at 'em? I'll read them to myself and if they're mean, I'll delete them."

Steve blows out a breathy little chuckle. "You'll just get mad at them," he gently teases. "But that doesn't sound too bad. Maybe I should try again. Not yet, though. I'm not ready."

"That's okay," Eddie assures, "take things slow. Maybe we start with watching the movies again? Getting your lightsabers back on display?"

"Can we go to the convention, too?"

"We can do whatever you want, Stevie."

For the first time in a long while, Steve finds himself smiling. "I love you," he whispers.

"I know."

[stonedstr8]

TOKE 'N STROKE

"Ads are getting so damn invasive." Lucas thought to himself, clicking skip on yet another pointless car commercial interrupting the video essay he was watching. "You think the algorithm would know its audience by now, I'm too gay to drive!"

He laughed a little bit at the joke, running a hand through his soft, bleached blonde hair. He was the epitome of a high-maintenance twink, with his smooth, hairless body and perfect sense of style. He was smart too and liked to boast about it, with a scholarship for his English Lit degree and being made President of his university's LGBT Chapter, which he was hoping to use as a stepping stone to become Student Body President next year.

Leaning back again in his chair he reached for his cellphone, seeing a text from his boyfriend Alex.

Alex: "Hey cutie, still busy with finals this weekend, but have time for a dinner date Sunday night?"

He smiled to himself, giving an eager text back to set it up, and to wish him well on his upcoming exams. "Ugh, I need to start studying too, Monday's going to be one hell of a final... I'll focus on it and head to the library after this video and-"

Just like that, his train of thought was interrupted again by a stupid ad, this time some obnoxious psychedelic visuals and a bad electric guitar riff blared out of his monitor. It startled him so badly that he seized up for a second, accidentally clicking the ad and being brought to their store page. "Broski's Bud's, one stop ship and shop for weed strains to fix your brain..." He rolled his eyes at the cringe marketing, getting ready to close the tab when a pop-up opened trying to tell him all about a deal he 'wouldn't want to miss out on'. "No thanks, stupid site, you can keep your Bro Buds or whatever to yourself." but every time he hit X on the popup another would open, being more and more insistent each time about new deals, until finally a desperate '90% OFF AND SPECIAL STARTER KIT AS A BONUS WITH YOUR FIRST PURCHASE' filled his screen. "FINE," he scoffed at his computer, "I'll take a look at the stupid site. My therapist suggested I try out weed to help lessen my anxiety anyways, so might as well get a good deal on it..."

Clicking the pop-up added the 'starter kit' to his cart, it was a pack of pre-rolled blunts and some sort of mystery box, but the description didn't help him understand it much either. "Get ready to step into the zone and open ur mind with this one bros, Broski's Buds bestselling strain, Toke 'n Stroke, is sure to change your life by stimulating a high never felt before! This isn't your sissy uncle's strain, this shit puts hair on your chest like a real man!"

"God this is so cringe, I bet they get all kinds of business marketing to the dumb jocks in town, no wonder their brains are mush. Still, it's just weed and for $20 I might as well give it a try, I probably won't find it cheaper anywhere else..." sitting in thought about it for a few seconds, Lucas finally filled in his payment info and placed his order, getting a free upgrade to same-day delivery since they seem to have a storefront a few miles from his apartment.

"Well, there goes my library plans I guess, I'll have to wait around for delivery since my package will probably get swiped otherwise..." Lucas sighed, turning off his computer and plopping down onto the couch, picking up his Switch to play Animal Crossing and kill time.

A few hours passed and the sky got dark before finally a long buzz came from his intercom. "Took them long enough, it's nearly 9pm!" he complained, putting his jacket on to head downstairs. When he got down there the delivery guy had already gotten into his car again, driving away and leaving Lucas to carry the package back upstairs all on his own. It was bigger than he expected, taking both hands to lift it and keep it stable. "Jesus, this thing must weight like 40 pounds! What did they put in here?"

After a bit of struggling and the occasional break to catch his breath, Lucas pushed his package into the living room, collapsing on the floor next to it for a while. "After that workout I'm surprised I don't look like the douchebags around campus." he laughed to himself, bouncing up to get a box cutter and pry his package open. After taking the carton of pre-rolled blunts out, he started into the box with a bit of confusion and disgust, pulling things out one after the other.

"A sleeveless tank top that says 'Toke 'n Stroke Bro'... A pair of douchey sunglasses... Some red gym shorts, socks and slides... Ew, a snapback saying 'Who ate all the pussy?', why the fuck would anyone wear this!... And 2 dumbbells, no wonder this thing was so heavy! All of this is useless shit that's gonna end up in a donation bin now, I'll have to drop this trashy stuff off tomorrow on my way to the library... But hey, at least the weed seems fine, smells... potent." He said, tossing everything back into the box and taking a whiff of one of the blunts.

Kicking back on the couch again, he played with the blunt in his hand for a while before finally having the courage to light it up, taking a hit. Immediately he started coughing, not used to the sensation, but it did make his brain start to feel... fuzzy. "Damn, okay I need to push past it and get used to it." he said, lighting up for another hit of the blunt, this time barely a cough escaping his throat, feeling suspiciously more used to it. Then another, and another, until finally the whole blunt was gone. Sitting in his daze for a while, he enjoyed the sensation of his mind drifting around experiencing the high, his anxiety melting away as if he didn't have a care in the world. Eventually he decided to try and get up, but his body slumped over off the couch and hitting the floor, the room fading to black...

...

When Lucas finally came to again, the first thing that hit him was the strong smell of weed floating around in the air. "Damn bro, did I smoke the whole set or what..." he laughed groggily, getting ready to stretch out and get back to laying on the couch before he was startled by the sound of moaning blasting from his TV, eyes shooting open in confusion. On the screen, two busty lesbians were making out, them taking turns groping each others boobs and fingering each other. "What the fuck bro, how long has this been on?" he cursed, nervous that the neighbors nextdoor might have heard it playing as he started desperately looking for the remote.

When he couldn't find it in the cushions, he got up from the couch only to be met with his feet kicking a bunch of empty beer cans. "Dude, there's gotta be 2 dozen thrown all over the floor, did I have a party or something? I don't even know anyone who drinks beer..." he mumbled, going to scratch his head in confusion, but was even more confused when instead of his hair he felt a hat on top of his head. "Huh?" he thought, as he looked down at the floor again, noticing that instead of his skinny jeans and converse he was now wearing the socks and slides from the box, along with the sleeveless tank top and the shorts too. He stumbled his way to the bathroom door still baked out of his mind, mouth dropping open at his reflection in the full-length mirror in front of him.

"Broooo, am I dreaming or what the fuckkkk is going on" he said in disbelief. No more was the cute, pale twink he used to be staring back at him. Instead, a douchey bro he didn't recognize was standing face to face with him. Tanned skin, pillowy muscles, his once blonde hair turned into a brown buzz cut and with that stupid "Who ate all the pussy?" hat slapped over it. He touched his face, feeling along his chin where his once smooth skin now had a rougher texture, and a trashy chinstrap sprouted from his jawline. He slapped his face a few times in his daze, trying to wake up from the dream and growing more confused each time nothing changed.

Turning around and staggering back to his living room to try and make sense of what's going on, it hit him that he barely recognizes the room anymore. His apartment used to be perfectly maintained and well-decorated, now there was beer cans all over the floor, along with dirty socks and cummed-in underwear, greasy pizza boxes and chip bags all over the table and counter, the decorations on his walls had been torn down and replaced with posters of chicks in bikinis and sports teams, his Switch replaced with an X-Box and a stack of COD games next to it, DVD cases of trashy bro-comedies were thrown around near the TV too... Then the smell hit him, it STUNK in here, like a sickening mixture of weed, cheap body spray, and sour BO wafting in a heat around the room. "Bro, it fucking reeks in here... Or wait..." he mumbled as he gave himself a whiff, "I fucking reek!"

After a bit of stunned silence he finally started to process things in his brain again. How the fuck did he get like this, was any of this even real, and how does he get back to normal? He plopped back onto the couch, picking up his phone to see he had a handful of missed texts and calls from his boyfriend before noticing the time... 2:00pm. On Sunday. He had somehow been blacked out for 2 whole nights, with no memory of anything that had happened. While getting ready to call his boyfriend back, Lucas felt his insides rumbling and at first he thought it was from the munchies because of all the weed, but then he realized "Oh bro, all that double-cheese pizza is really gonna fucking..."

*PHRRRBBBTTT!*

His body instinctively lifted its leg as it pushed out the loudest and most obnoxious fart he'd ever ripped in his life, as his body seemed to react on its own, letting out an immature laugh and wafting the air before muttering "Fuck yeah bro, smells like victory!" He leaned back into the couch, remembering he needed to call Alex, but the loud moaning on the TV caught him off guard again. This time he locked eyes with the screen, the cock in his shorts immediately bulging and straining at the sight of the lesbian porn before him. "I really need to turn this shit off and get whatever's going on sorted out..." he thought, but he realized he couldn't move his hand to reach for his phone, instead it reacted on its own, reaching down his waistband to pull out his cock and start stroking for the busty babes on TV.

"All I do is Toke 'n Stroke, bro..." a voice in his head seemed to say, except it didn't come from within, he spoke it directly out of his own mouth.

"Wait, I didn't say that bro, it's-" he tried to talk, realizing that his thoughts echoed around stuck in his own head, not even leaving the lips of his own body. He was just stuck there, watching in a dazed horror as he went on autopilot.

"Toke 'n Stroke bro, I'm such a loyal customer Broski's Buds will HAVE to take me as a hype boy this time haha!" his voice spoke again, continuing to stroke for the porn on TV, Lucas's eyes stuck fixed on the screen. Suddenly though, he was interrupted by his phone vibrating, a text from his boyfriend coming through.

Alex: "Hey cutie, I hope everything is alright? You haven't answered my calls or texts in a couple days, I know it's busy with all your studying but we do still have dinner planned for tonight. Still on for me to pick you up at 5?"

"Oh thank God," Lucas thought, reading the message, "I can tell him what's going on and have him come over to help me fix this shit!" Unlocking his phone, Lucas let out a sigh of relief as he got ready to reply, only for his body to still be taken over by whatever douchey daze it was stuck in.

Lucas: "dont u ever come around me u faggy creep, if me or my bros ever catch u within 100 feet of us we'll give u the beating of a lifetime! fuck around n find out if u dare to show ur face here."

Lucas screamed internally as the message was typed out and sent in front of his very eyes, before his hand moved to block his boyfriend's number and turn his phone off. "Something is seriously fucking wrong with me bro, I need to-"

*PHHRRRRBBBTTTTTT*

Another obnoxious and sickening fart blasted out of his ass, filling the room and breaking Lucas's thoughts down into a daze again, as he felt around under the couch for something before pulling a sweaty, well-used fuck toy of a girls ass and pussy up from the mess.

As Lucas once again locked eyes with the TV, he took another hit from his dwindling blunt stash, finishing up the last one. After throwing what was left onto the floor, he prepared the fuck toy and slid it right down onto his cock, starting to bounce the toy up and down as he edged himself closer to finishing.

"If I can't figure out a way to snap out of this, I'm so fucked..." he thought, as his voice spoke again. "Toke 'n Stroke bro, this chick is soooo getting fucked!" He moaned, as he shot his thick load into the toy, feeling some of his braincells permanently shoot out with it, sloppily wiping the mess on the cushion next to him as he laid back, feeling his insides start to bubble again.

Lucas had a lot of Bro Time to catch up on, but luckily his new favorite weed strain was making sure that he was a captive audience until he was fully converted and assimilated into just another Bro.

[bvidzsoo]

Grease and Oil

⨳Mechanic!Mingi⨳

TW: cursing, smut wrap it before you tap it

Word count: 5,6k

A/N: I don't think I'll ever let go of bleached spikey haired Mingi. It changed something in me, I'll never be the same. I have nothing to say except...why did I even write this? Song Mingi stop haunting me, thank you. It's not the best, but the best I can write lol. Feedback is very much appreciated!

            The smell of grease, oil, and gasoline weren’t something unfamiliar to me, nor were they nauseating. It was something I was used to. These were familiar scents; scents which I have started associating with home. Cars, too, were something I associated with a feeling of familiarity, of something dear to me. Walking inside my father’s car service was like a second home, a place I knew like the back of my hand. I wasn’t huge on fixing cars, but I knew a few things here and there. Despite my father’s attempts at making me a great mechanic one day, I struggled to understand the in-depth parts and mechanism of a car, therefore I settled on appreciating their beauty. Can’t say my father was too happy about it, but his concerns faded away when I found a path for myself. I applied to a college, choosing to study literature as I struggled finding anything else I liked. Perhaps creative writing was a subjected I happened to enjoy too, but I had no idea where my degree would take me one day. I had no intentions of teaching English literature, the children these days were awful and very disrespectful. My short temper would’ve surely gotten the worst of me if placed in a situation where I had to deal with rude kids. And so, I settled on reading my books and pouring my feelings out into short poems when I wasn’t at college. Or by wasting my time away at my father’s car service. It’s not like I had anything better to do—I actually did, but procrastination is my best friend. Besides, most of his employees are above the age of thirty-five, and two of them I have known since I was a little girl, they could be really fun to hang around…and it’s not like I would often stop by because my father has an employee who is barely a few years older than myself. And it’s definitely not because he is the hottest man alive I have ever seen. He’s a tall and lean guy, his posture immaculate with his shoulders always pulled back, his long legs worth envying and shoulders so broad you could hide behind them and nobody would see you. In the summer, he usually wears tight tank tops, showing off his humble muscles, biceps finer than most guy’s of his age. And his pants, which are fireproof, cling onto his body, showing off his narrow waist. This guy was a sight for sore eyes and I couldn’t blame the few ladies who would occasionally stop by, completely taken aback by this guy’s visuals. It wasn’t fair that he had a perfect body, especially when his face was good-looking too. God sometimes had favorites and Song Mingi definitely was one of them with his long nose, sharp eyes and cherry red lips, a singular mole underneath his left eye decorating his flawless skin. His personality also made him desirable and that just made him a dangerously charming and handsome human being. Perhaps my frequent visits to the service during the summer were sort of his merit too, not just the want to spend some quality time with my father as he spent little time at home. I knew he was busy; I couldn’t blame him. His service was one of the best in our little town and money didn’t just magically appear, you had to work hard for it and that’s what he did, he worked his ass off all the time. The fact that he has employed Song Mingi was just the cherry on top, the little motivation I needed to perhaps learn more about cars.

I was settled on top of my father’s working desk, tools pushed to the side, feet dangling as I watched him work on a car’s engine, getting more and more furious by the second as he couldn’t find one missing screw. I watched quietly as his phone rang again, making him sigh loudly before he straightened himself up and took the call, eyebrows furrowed. It was a hot summer day, the AC did little to nothing inside the hot service, and the use of different electrical tools only created more heat inside the spacious room. I had started fanning myself, overhearing my father make an appointment as an obnoxiously loud engine whirled past the entrance to the service, making my heart skip an excited beat. It was lunch break, and Mingi had just returned from eating his meal. He was gone by the time I had arrived; I was rather lazy this morning and thus didn’t bother getting out of bed before 12 pm. My father turned towards me as he finished his call, looking rather irritated. It wasn’t directed at me; however, I still knew a lecturing would follow because I sat on his tool desk…again.

“Get off, Y/N, I asked you so many times not to sit there,” He sighed tiredly as he headed for the exit, “I have to examine a car, are you coming to the front?”

Certainly not before I have seen Mingi, “I’ll wash my hands first, they feel slimy, meet you at the reception, dad.”

He nodded once and hurried outside, phone already ringing once again. Summer seasons were always busy, work pilling up quickly. I started fanning myself with my hands as another heatwave hit me, making me sigh. Not even a tank top and shorts were enough to stop me from sweating buckets. I pushed my hair behind my shoulders and gripped the table, about to jump off it, when the man I stayed behind for finally showed up. He walked through the open garage door, having to duck as it wasn’t raised enough for his towering height. He had his back to me as he walked inside, carrying two boxes, muscles of his arms bulging as a few guys greeted him, instructing him where to place the boxes. However, nothing could’ve prepared me for the wave of shook which rooted me to my spot. My mouth hung open as my eyes remained trained on Mingi, and I could only hope nobody noticed my shameless gaping. Three days ago, when I have stopped by last, the man’s hair reached his shoulders almost and was a faded light brown. Now, his hair was completely bleached blonde and stood up in all places, spikey. A hairstyle definitely shouldn’t have made my tummy do flips, yet I had nothing to swallow as I watched Mingi laugh with a fellow mechanic, explaining something to him animatedly. His black tank top was tucked inside his beige pants, a black belt holding it against his hips securely. A black bandana was tied to his left bicep and I licked my lips as my eyes ran over his frame, stopping for a second too long on his ass. Perhaps crawling onto the wall sounded like the most normal thing to do right now. Just as I was about to look away, the man he was talking to briefly glanced at me and Mingi suddenly turned his head, eyes falling on me. Looking away right now would mean admitting that I had been staring at him, so I forced myself to smile nonchalantly at him and blame the flush on my cheeks on the extremely hot weather—which combined with Mingi’s presence only made my body heat up even more. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I’d do anything to get railed by Mingi while he wore his working clothes with grease smeared on his cheek. My heart skipped a beat as a lazy smirk appeared on his lips as he took off towards me, making me gulp in panic as I straightened my posture.

“Hello, princess.” He called once he was close enough and I rolled my eyes at the nickname, acting as if I totally hated it. It did bother me at the beginning when he started calling me that, but I didn’t mind anymore. And it certainly shouldn’t have made me blush.

“Hi, Mingi.” I greeted him back, smiling as I crossed my legs and leaned forward, holding myself up by my hands. My knuckles hurt from the grip I had on the table, but I ignored that.

“What brings you here today?” He asked nonchalantly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. I didn’t want to look, but his biceps were bulging and I’m just a simple woman, “Thought you washed your car when you stopped by last time.”

Ah, yes, the good old excuse of washing my car when it didn’t need washing yet. To be fair, I had a cleaning problem so that was the main reason why I washed my car so often, Mingi being here was just another thing to motivate me to stop by more frequently.

“I did, I’m not here for that.” I admitted, clearing my throat as Mingi’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly, mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. He hummed shortly, the sound deep in his throat, reminding me how hot I found his raspy and deep voice. He had once whispered in my ear as he snuck up on me, wanting to scare me, and I swear to God, I almost reached Heaven that day.

“Are you here for me then?” The cute pout of his lips and the finger he pushed against his cheek definitely didn’t match the sultriness of his words and the look in his eyes. It made me take a deep breath as I forced myself to roll my eyes, embarrassed that he had a feeling I was only here to see him. I mean…I did wear my favorite off-shoulder top just because I knew we would see each other.

“Why the sudden change of hairstyle?” I decided to change the subject, but it only made Mingi smirk as he looked at me almost victorious, almost as if he knew I didn’t answer him because he was right. Mingi ruffled his already spikey hair with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Just wanted something new,” He answered, “besides, it’s so hot these days, my long locks only made me sweat more. I feel like a new man right now. What do you think, do I look nice?”

Nice was little said, I would’ve described him more like: hot, sexy, attractive, gorgeous, mouth-watering, “Yeah, you look nice. It suits you.”

Mingi smiled happily and bowed lightly before his phone beeped. I didn’t understand how a man like him could be so cute while looking like a Greek God. My eyebrows slightly furrowed as I watched Mingi chuckle and smile down at his phone, quickly typing something on it. Perhaps he was seeing someone? Of course, why would a man like him be single? It shouldn’t come as a surprise; I should have thought about that sooner. But then again, he never mentioned a significant other. With a sigh, I jumped off the table and dusted off my shorts, running my hands through my hair. Mingi paused, looking up at me through his long lashes. I forced a smile on my face, suddenly discouraged by my own thoughts, as I grabbed my phone off the table.

“Got to go, dad’s waiting for me.” I mumbled as Mingi’s eyes slightly narrowed, eyes swiftly running over my body. He nodded wordlessly and I turned around, taking off towards the exit.

“That top looks really nice on you.” My steps halted for a second as I looked back at him and chuckled before exiting the garage, walking towards the reception, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach at the simple compliment. I should probably download a dating app and find someone available to obsess over.

            The blaring music and blinding disco lights in the living room were becoming too much as my tipsy head swirled around like a disco ball, throat parched up and dry from the lack of water. Certainly the amount of alcohol I have had was enough for the night as I pushed people out of my way, slightly wobbling as I headed for the kitchen, desperately needing water. A super rich guy from college threw a huge ass party and invited some guys over from our college, one of them being one of my close friends. I wasn’t one to turn down a good party, and when the alcohol was free, I would certainly attend it. Seonghwa and I had teamed up and played beer-pong together, kicking Wooyoung and San’s asses, but losing to Hongjoong and Yunho. We should have known better not to challenge those two competitive monsters. All in all, the night was fun and after having lost Sooyoung to some hot guy, I hit the dancefloor with Wooyoung and San, the three of us dancing our hearts out to every song. After a while, I grew concerned and started calling Sooyoung, making my two dancing companions almost take my phone away after six missed calls. But it didn’t take long for Sooyoung to finally text me, telling me she was upstairs with a Yeosang named guy smoking some weed, and that she’d be down in no time. I rolled my eyes at the text, huffing as I handed Wooyoung my phone to take care of. My skirt had no pockets and I forgot to bring a fanny-pack, I have grown tired of holding my phone, Wooyoung’s back pocket would do the trick until Sooyoung returned and I could give my phone for her to put in her little purse. The music wasn’t as loud in the kitchen as it was in the living room and it was also less packed, which made me grateful as I walked over to the window and pushed it open, smiling contently at the cool air which hit my face. I certainly needed to cool down. I grabbed a red cup which looked relatively unused and filled it with tap water, downing it in mere seconds only to fill it up again and again until I felt satiated. I threw the cup away and leaned against the counter, holding my thumping head in my hands as I closed my eyes for a second, thinking it would help. But it only made me more nauseous and I quickly opened my eyes as I massaged my forehead, still leaning slightly over. Somebody next to me asked if I was okay and I quickly nodded, telling them that I just needed a moment to regain composure again, and I’ll be off dancing once again. However, a weirdly familiar deep voice suddenly filled the kitchen, some high-pitched giggle following straight after the ridiculous joke the guy told. My nose scrunched up at the very cheesy pickup line which followed and I snorted, unintentionally catching their attention as they didn’t stand too far away.

“Y/N?” The deep voice asked surprised and my eyebrows furrowed as I finally raised my head, smoothing down my hair as it fell in my face.

“Oh, Mingi.” I muttered just a little surprised by his presence here. I wondered how he knew about the party, however, the black-haired girl by his side was a tell-tale. She was a student at my college and she was pretty as fuck. I sighed, and unintentionally glared at her, unimpressed by her presence next to Mingi. It’s not like I knew her well to form an opinion about her, but personally, I didn’t like her that much. Especially since Mingi seemed to be here with her. My eyes fall back onto him and my brain blanched for a second, never having seen him outside of the car service up until now. Him not wearing his tight-fitting clothes was something new and I couldn’t help but let my eyes run all over his body, taking in the sight in front of me. He wore a loose-fitting white t-shirt, the front slightly tucked inside his grey ripped jeans which were baggy. He wore a black pair of convers, and a black fanny-pack was pushed around to his backside to not bother him. However, what made me take a second to process what I was seeing were his accessories. His necklaces were layered as he wore a red braided like material which sat snugly against the base of his neck, then a silver chain followed, and a silver cross which reached just bellow his collarbones. His wrists were decorated with silver chain bracelets, matching the chain around his neck and he wore various rings, some bigger than the other, his right-hand sporting four meanwhile his left three. If all of that combined with his hair wasn’t enough, his fingernails were also painted black, albeit already coming off in some spots, but still painted black. He was a sight for sore eyes and it took everything in me to not grip his arm and walk us upstairs, completely disregarding the girl he was here with.

And she just had to speak up, “Oh, you two know each other?”

“Yeah, her dad’s my boss.” Mingi answered before I could and I raised an eyebrow as the girl took me in, unexpectedly smiling at me as she placed an arm around Mingi’s shoulders. My jaw tensed subconsciously and I licked my lips as I leaned back against the counter, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“We go to the same college,” She told Mingi, offering her hand to me, “I don’t think we’ve ever really introduced each other, though. My name is Jennie, I’m Mingi’s cousin.”

“Cousin?” My eyebrows raised as I shook Jennie’s hand, “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Mingi playfully pushed Jennie off himself as he answered my question and Jennie just rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, giant, if I leave you alone with Y/N, will you behave?” She raised her eyebrows threateningly at Mingi and he just chuckled, raising his hands in surrender.

“I always behave.” He defended himself quickly, but sounded like he didn’t mean it at all.

“No, you don’t.” Jennie rolled her eyes then looked back at me, “I have to find my boyfriend, he’s somewhere here around, probably drunk off his ass. If Mingi bothers you, just knee him in the stomach really hard and come and find me, I’ll kick his ass for you—”

“I’m right here, you know.” Mingi rolled his eyes and ruffled Jennie’s hair, “Get lost before I chase you away.”

Jennie scoffed but walked away after she waved at me, leaving me alone with Mingi. My hostile behavior slightly dropped, but I couldn’t help look at Mingi with narrowed eyes. I knew what I heard while I was fighting the urge of throwing up. Why would anyone flirt with their cousin? That was disgusting.

“If Jennie is your cousin…why would you say a pickup line to her?” I couldn’t help but ask him accusingly. It made Mingi laugh as he stepped closer, smiling cheekily.

“Eavesdropping, weren’t you?” I opened my mouth to deny his claim, but Mingi didn’t let me, “First of, ew, that’s literally my cousin do I look like I fuck with family? And second, that pickup line was actually sent by someone whom I have been talking to, and I was just reading it to Jennie.”

“How many girls are you talking to currently?” The question tumbled past my lips before I could even think about it. I only could blame the alcohol for making me so straightforward and embarrassing.

“Wouldn’t you like to know…” Mingi chuckled and stepped closer, invading my personal space. I gulped and pressed myself harder into the counter, hands coming to grip the edge of it. A smirk appeared on Mingi’s lips as he leaned down to be eye level with me, eyes searching my face before they settled on my lips briefly. My head was spinning and perhaps I was seeing things, but his tongue poked out for a second, “You look really hot.”

I gulped and let out a quiet breath, looking down at myself. The leather skirt clung onto me like a second skin and the flower decorated corset did little to nothing to cover what I would usually hide. It was Sooyoung’s idea to dress up like this, she wore a matching set except her corset was green meanwhile mine pink.

“Uh, thanks.” I whispered and didn’t dare move as Mingi lowered his head even more, looking through his lashes as he looked me in the eyes. He’s never stood this close to me before; it only now made me realize the height difference between us. And I couldn’t help but faintly smell gasoline despite his strong cologne.

“Dressed up for someone?” He muttered and I felt a warm finger lightly trace the skin of my right arm. I gulped nervously and ignored the goosebumps on my skin.

“I didn’t know you’d be here—” I tried changing the subject, it seemed to be a habit of mine lately.

“But if you did know, would you have dressed up for me?” Mingi’s raspy voice whispered in my ear as he leaned closer, my mouth opening without a sound coming out. My tipsy brain didn’t exactly know how to function in that moment and that meant I had nothing to say. But as he pulled back, we made eye contact, and his intimidating gaze pulled an answer out of me instantly.

“Yes.” I would totally hate myself in the morning for admitting that, but I couldn’t help myself. Not when he was standing so close and saying things like that. A smirk pulled onto Mingi’s lips and suddenly his hand raised as he gripped a strand of my hair lightly and twirled it around, brushing it behind my ear. I watched him mesmerized, body slightly trembling because of different things. The opened window brought in the chill breeze and we stood close to the it; Mingi’s closeness and touch made me want to crash my lips against his, and I was fighting every fiber in my body to stop myself from doing that, thankfully not tipsy enough to lose all rationality.

“I think I know about your little secret, princess.” Mingi’s tone was playful as he suddenly cupped my cheek and tilted my head back, hovering his face over mine, eyes tracing my features slowly. I hoped my red lipstick wasn’t smudged and that it would be smudged in no time.

“What secret?” I asked confused, biting my lower lip as Mingi’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, his fingers slipping towards my nape as his thumb pushed against my cheek.

“About your little crush—” He barely whispered, eyes on my lips as my mouth parted, heart beating like crazy, “on me.”

Before I could answer him, his teeth caught my lower lip between his and he sucked on the flesh, making my face flush as I mewled, hand holding onto his waist for more stability as the counter wasn’t enough anymore. He held eye contact as he released my lip and I felt like crumbling onto my knees and giving him anything he wanted as my grip tightened on him, head pulled closer to his by the grip he had on my nape. Mingi’s lips barely brushed against mine and I tried to close the impossibly little distance between us, but he just tsked and smirked.

“Good girls eventually get what they want, princess, be a bit more patient.” I couldn’t help but groan in frustration as Mingi released me and took a step back, smirking as he swiped his thumb over my lower lip, smudging my lipstick. I threw him a glare, but he just laughed and then turned around and walked off with a cup he grabbed off from the counter. I couldn’t help but lick my lower lip, pressing a palm against my racing heart as I tapped the sweat off my forehead, needing another cup of water to cool off.

            And I didn’t even have to wait for too long. Four days after the party, my father asked me to stop by the car service because he couldn’t decide what color to choose for the tuning he was doing for one of his friend’s car. I couldn’t have been happier to stop by as I made it my personal mission to stay away from that place for as long as possible, embarrassed by what happened between Mingi and I at the party, but also because I wanted to torture him a bit too. I could only hope he yearned to see me as much as I yearned for him. My father was out, having to pick up some pieces in the nearest city, which was half an hour away, so that meant he’d be gone for approximately an hour and a half. Everyone was gone by now from the car service as working hours were over, everyone except Mingi, of course. He had to catch up on his work as he had to skip a day for some undisclosed business. And yes, Mingi should’ve been working right now on that old car nobody actually wanted to fix, but here he was, balls deep in my pussy, thrusting into me like his life depended on it. I guess he was just a simple man too, and he fell exactly into my trap as I walked through the garage door wearing my little sundress, high heels elongating my legs. It didn’t take long for Mingi to stop whatever he was doing as he dragged me to the backroom, where there were no cameras, and pushed up on the table, wasting no time in undressing himself and working up the both of us. My head was thrown back from the constant pleasure his movements brought, his length reaching places no one else has before, my right hand gripping his bare waist as I rolled my hips to meet his thrusts. Mingi was biting his lips hard, holding onto my hips as I had to hold myself up with one arm, muscle straining with each strong thrust. Perhaps I should have expected him to be vocal, but the whines he would let out every now and then only turned me on even more, dragging my own moans out of me. Grease stuck to his left cheek, just underneath his mole and his already sweaty body from working was glistening once again, smelling strongly of the substance he has been working with to clean rims of the old car.

“I bet you’ve been fantasizing about me fucking you covered in grease and all sweaty from the long day I’ve had.” My only answer was a loud moan as he hit the sweet spot which made me see stars, and for a second, all I could hear were his own pants and the table squeaking louder and louder with each thrust.

“You have no idea—” I moaned as I clenched around Mingi, mind blanching for a second as he hit that spot again, “How fucking hot you look—like this.”

My fingertips dug into his hips and Mingi suddenly leaned down, pressing my back flat against the wooden table, rotating his hips as he suddenly slowed down. My mouth opened in a gasp and my legs went around his hips, one hand tangling in his blonde spikey hair as the other went around his shoulders to anchor myself. Mingi groaned in my ear as I clenched around his length again, his thrusts painfully slow on purpose, making me try to move my hips, but he had me pinned down by his heavier body.

“Fuck, please—” My whine was muffled by his lips as he pressed them against mine, pushing his tongue past my lips as I kissed him hungrily, wanting to feel more and more of him. Our lips moved messily against each other as Mingi slightly quickened his pace, but it still wasn’t enough. My eyebrows were furrowed as it started becoming unbearable and I whined, pulling my head away and choking on my words for a second, “I’m going to fucking die if you don’t go faster.”

I couldn’t believe Mingi had the audacity to smirk as he bit my lower lip harshly, making me push his head away as he chuckled amused, fake pouting at me.

“Thought I said good girls get what they want—” He completely stilled, bringing tears into my eyes out of frustration as I gripped his nape, trying to move against him to no avail, “And you’re being rather impatient right now.”

But before I could say anything, the slightly stood up and pulled almost fully out before slamming in again, his pace relentless and thrusts sharp as he threw his head back, moaning, making me grip onto his lower arm as he hit my g-spot over and over again, making my back arch as broken moans left my lips, nails digging into his skin. I was going fucking insane as his thumb found my clit and he started rubbing circles on it, making me cry out as I felt my orgasm building up, ready to snap any second as Mingi’s moans got higher and higher, my walls clenching tightly around him, bringing him closer to the edge as well.

“Fuck.” He hissed at a particular sharp thrust, his hips almost stuttering but I managed to meet his movements, desperate for my own release as I clawed at the wooden table, back arching as the pleasure became unbearable and the knot in my stomach snapped, making me let out a high-pitched moan, only for Mingi’s lips to muffle it as his hips stuttered, his own release following mine, filling me up. My body trembled and my lungs heaved for air as I came down from the high, our lips touching with Mingi as we both panted into each other’s mouths. His scent was intoxicating and I couldn’t help but burry my head into his neck and lightly bite down on his perfect skin, making him shudder. He didn’t pull out yet and I felt him twitch slightly, making me chuckle.

“So, I’m hot when I’m all sweaty and covered in grease?” He spoke up, voice raspy, and his words made me laugh as I allowed my head to rest against the wooden table, throwing an arm over my eyes. I could feel Mingi’s smile as he pressed a kiss against the corner of my mouth, swiftly pulling out.

“I said it once, I won’t say it again.” I peeked at him as he quickly pulled up his boxers and tight pants, adjusting his tank top.

“If I knew all I had to do was change my hairstyle for you to finally let me fuck you—” Mingi shook his head as he helped me off the table, smirking when I had to lean against it for support, my legs having gone numb, “I would’ve done it a lot earlier.”

“Perhaps if you weren’t so oblivious,” I threw him a glare and pulled up my panties, adjusting my dress, “You would’ve noticed how badly I wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you, idiot.”

Mingi laughed and threw an arm around my shoulders as he pulled me into himself, “Now that that’s out of the way…do you want to date or do you want us to just fuck?”

His question made me pause as I looked up in his eyes, biting my lower lip in thought, “You want to go out with me?”

“I sure do.” Mingi said it like it was the most obvious thing, then he jutted his chin towards mine, “What about you?”

“What do you think?” I asked with a chuckle.

“That we should go for a second round—”

“Mingi!” I pressed my palm over his mouth and threw him a little glare, “My father could be back anytime, you know. And yes, I do want to date you. Unless you’re always this annoying.”

Mingi fake laughed as he pushed my hand off his mouth, “Aren’t you just so funny?”

I stuck my tongue out at him and he tried kissing it, making me yelp and push him away, which made Mingi giggle as he placed his hands in his pockets, “So, tomorrow at six?”

“But you better shower before you come pick me up.” I pointed a finger at him as we went to leave the room.

“I thought I smelled hot—”

“You can’t smell hot, so just—” I sighed and looked at him, “Just—dress up. You—I mean, you know, you looked really good at the party. I haven’t seen you out of your work clothes before.”

“Aw, aren’t you so shy right now and stuttering all of a sudden?” He cooed and poked my cheek, “As if I wasn’t inside you—”

“Y/N, you still here?!” I heard my father’s voice shout from afar and I threw Mingi a warning look as I pushed him away. He walked towards the car he had to fix defeated, throwing me those sad puppy eyes and a pout as my father walked inside the garage.

“Hi.” I waved at him and he smiled, glancing at Mingi.

“You can fix it tomorrow too, you know?” My father said as he went to put his own utensils away. Mingi hummed but said he didn’t have much until he was done, liar. My father glanced at me and I looked away from Mingi, smiling at my father innocently. He just shook his head and threw his keys at me, making me clumsily catch them.

“Go pick up your mother, I’ll stay behind and help Mingi fix the car.” He muttered tiredly as he walked up to my soon-to-be-boyfriend, oblivious to what Mingi would soon become to him as well. Not just an employee, but perhaps a part of our family too. I jokingly saluted my father as I stopped in the doorway, turning to look at Mingi, who was already watching me.

“Goodbye, Mingi.”

“Bye, Y/N.” Mingi tried to fight the smile off his lips as I turned around and ran off with a giggle, cheeks burning suddenly with embarrassment.

Good girls eventually get what they want, don’t they?

Masterlist

[takumiraine]

Once upon a time chapter 3

3 chapters in as many days? Nobody tell my Ao3 readers. I don’t have siblings, but I hope I captured banter well.

<first> <prev> <next>

Once upon a time two men stopped believing in fairy tales.

Jason walked into the admissions office with Dan’s schedule memorized as well as Bab’s working schedule in the library to debrief both before and after and make sure their own girl genius ate. She was the only one in the family that didn’t treat him differently since the whole dead until he wasn’t thing after all.

“Hi there,” Jason said to the woman working the desk, turning on every ounce of charm, bringing out the smile that historically got him into as many troublesome spots as it got him out of. “I’m Jason Todd-Wayne and I think I’m ready to put down roots and get my degree in Literature. Russian or English, doesn’t matter.”

“Oh!” The woman looked suitably flustered, and he felt suitably stupid as he stood there with that thousand sun smile and his stupid shock of white hair and completely unprotected t shirt and jeans. Yeah he had a couple of knives in his boots but… he felt entirely too exposed. “Let me… make a call and see who can get you settled in.”

An hour and one incredibly flimsy “yeah well I’ve been doing absolutely no learning the last five years just give me the remedials first” lie later, and Jason had a schedule that matched up in a couple places with this Dan person.

He went to go see Babs at her job in the library, stopping at the campus coffee shop to bring her her favorite drink. May as well add some extra bribery to keep her from spilling if Bruce asked.

Jason doubted he would but weirder things have happened.

He walked up to where she was tapping away on one of the computers at the reference desk. He reached over and set the coffee near enough so she could grab it and far enough away that she wouldn’t throw a fit about the possibility of spills.

Jason looked around idly, waiting for her to be done with whatever task she was set to. Once she was done she grabbed the cup. “He’s here.” She said, taking a drink from her coffee.

Jason blinked. “What?”

“Yeah. Once I saw him this morning, without static, I realized why he was familiar.” There was the steady beep-beep-beep as she checked in books. “He practically lives here. Northwestern corner on the desktop.” More beeping and Jason turned his head under the guise of scanning the space as he sipped from his own drink. “Wouldn’t be suspicious except for last night, and knowing his class schedule.”

Jason nods, pushes off the desk and makes a slow circuit under the guise of looking for a book. The kid, under bright daylight, looks like hell. Pale with dark circles under his eyes. Thin. A quick glance at the screen shows him working on math way more complex than the remedial class he - they were taking. He selected a book from the shelf and returned to Babs.

“Kid looks more dead than I am,” Jason muttered, setting his cup down and paging through the book. Not only did the kid not notice when Jason got close but didn’t look over. No sense of danger that one.

He stood, making bland conversation with Babs and skimming through the book. At least until the kid got up. A quick check of the clock showed it was almost time for their first shared class. He walked out first, and pulled out the sheet of paper with his schedule. When the kid passed by Jason stopped him.

“Hey, sorry to bug you,” he wasn’t, “I started a bit late. Any idea where DL 115 is?” Danny startled a bit as he realized he was being spoken to, before nodding.

“Yeah. Headed there now. C’mon. I’m Danny.” The kid gave a smile and Jason was hit with the thought that with some sleep he was probably handsome.

As they walked Danny rambled a mile a minute, giving directions and a mini tour. Everything surface level, but kind nonetheless. He stifled a yawn as they passed the cafe where Jason had gotten the two coffees earlier that morning “and I’ve heard this place has the best coffee anywhere near campus. Haven’t tried it myself so your mileage may vary, but the smells are right.”

Jason normally found this sort of prattle irritating, but he found himself more amazed at the fact that a kid who had a knife in his stomach no more than 12 hours before was moving like nothing happened.

When they got to class Jason took the spot next to Danny. “Thanks for the tour man,” he said, wishing he could drop the Jason Todd-Wayne persona and go back to being just Jason.

“Yeah. Of course. Gotta help where you can.” Point one against being a rogue in the making. “Whats your major?”

“Literature. You?”

“Mechanical Engineering. I’m shit at lit, my high school teacher once accused me of being that dense on purpose.” Jason couldn’t help the snort, and he caught Danny’s lips quirk in a smile.

“Whats an engineer doing in a remedial math class?”

“High school was murder. Spent most of the time ghosting my classes.” He shrugged a bit, arranging the books he brought on the table. “Chronic underachiever.” The last two words were said with the same tone of someone who had heard them more often than anyone bothered to ask the reason behind it. Jason wasn’t quite sure where that point fell.

“Well, we need more engineers here. You grow up in one of the districts?” Small talk was a Wayne staple and even though Jason could appreciate the way they were helping him get information from the kid, it made him want to claw his face off.

“Nah.” A pause and the pit in Jason burned suddenly. “Small town in the Midwest. They need good ones there too. But Gotham was willing to pay me to be here.” He shrugs. “It’s a living I guess.” Jason had to resist the urge to grit his teeth. “You grow up here?”

A breath in. Out. Control. “Yeah. Crime alley until I was adopted by Bruce Wayne.”

Something in Danny’s look changes subtly, and the pit shrieks. Jason clenches a fist under the table, nails biting into his palm. “Doesn’t he fund the Justice League?” Knowledge outside his scope. Either the kid researched or had inside info. One point for rogue. Jason shrugged one shoulder and did his best ‘I just work here’ voice.

“I think so. Managing the money is more my brother’s thing though.” Keeping his voice even is a struggle with the way the pit lashes inside of him. Sweat beads at his hairline even though he’s certain the air conditioning just clicked on from the way the air is suddenly cooler around him.

“I hate those assholes…” he heard Danny mutter as the teacher entered and began the class. Another point towards rogue. So far it was pretty even, but there could still be an explanation.

The teacher began droning on and slowly the pit calmed in him as more math was put in front of them. Jason wished it would act up. Trying to manage it would keep him occupied from the numbers. They always only meant one thing. There was no subtext. No beauty. No romance to it.

God. If anyone knew that the vicious Red Hood was secretly a romantic? Kill him again now. He glanced over at Danny’s notebook when he realized he missed some instructions. The guy’s handwriting was a mess, little notes jotted this way and that with arrows connecting it to something else that Jason recognized from the more complex math that Babs and Tim sometimes got on about.

Danny caught him looking and trying to copy, and rolled his eyes but put dots next to the things he was missing once he looked over at Jason’s mess of notes.

After class, Jason couldn’t help but ask “why are you in this math class? I’m the wrong guy to ask but that sh…stuff,” he corrected, reminding himself who he was supposed to be. Danny raised an eyebrow but let him continue, “seems way more complicated than what we’re learning.”

“I’m a bad tester.” He shrugs. “I’ve had worse lecture experiences.”

Jason had an opening to get to know this guy better. “Any chance you’d be willing to tutor me?”

Danny’s eyes furrowed at him, “I’m sure your dad could hire someone with a math degree, not just some….” He waved his hand “nothing nobody from nowhere.” He finished. Jason considered, or at least pretended to.

“He could, probably a whole fleet of them. But I hate asking him for things. Rich people are just….”

“Pompous assholes?” Danny supplied when Jason seemed to struggle for a nice way to put it. Even Sam had been at first, her parents’ attitudes surrounding money rubbing off on her.

“Yeah. We don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things. But I will pay.”

Danny seemed to consider that for a while, watching him more closely than the exhausted appearance would make anyone expect, something sharp and calculating in his gaze. Finally he seemed to decide and nodded, opening to a page where he had his schedule scribbled out. “I guess. When?”

“As soon as possible, I’ve already missed a couple weeks and I’m totally lost.” Not a complete lie. He could get himself caught up but making the bridge with Danny was more important. “Dinner at the cafe? I’ll buy for the inconvenience and then we can head to the library and get started?” Jason remembered Danny showing the mugger the empty wallet the night before. Either the kid kept his money elsewhere or he was broke.

Those sharp blue eyes landed on him again and narrowed slightly, and Jason got the distinct impression he was trying to weigh Jason’s soul against a feather. Then, again, Danny looks away and shrugs. “I guess. My next class is out at five.” Jason made a point of checking his watch. It was three. He nodded. “Meet you there at quarter after.” Jason nodded his agreement and stood. As Danny started to walk off Jason heard “And don’t think I’ll take it easy on you just because you’re a pretty rich boy.”

Fuck. What had he just gotten himself into?

The class Danny was headed to wasn’t one they shared, so Jason returned to the library. “Any idea what the kid does on the computer while he’s here?” Jason asked quietly, standing next to where Babs was shelving books. She handed him one and he put it back where it belonged, over her head.

“Excuse you, libraries are havens for those who want to be away from the panopticon of spying that is the powers that be.” Babs shot back, handing him another book. She could have reached that one but they both knew the understanding was clear, ‘you stand here to bother me during my normal girl hours, you work.’

‘And I know you’ his look countered. She sighed, wheeled herself and the cart to a different shelf.

“Nothing suspicious. Some conspiracy forums. Spends a lot of time sharing conspiracies with accounts named Technus and Ember, occasionally gets told to ‘go outside and eat something’ by an account called Desiree. Everything seems normal, or as normal as can be from conspiracy nuts.”

“What’s their favorite conspiracy?”

“Ghosts mostly. Though Pariah, Dan, also talks about how the JL is either in the pocket of the government or vice versa. He can’t seem to decide.”

“Any idea why he hates them?”

She hums, finishes with that shelf and moves along, waving cheerfully at some students that come out of a study room and keeps on her way. Jason is amazed that she manages the heavy book cart with her wheelchair. It’s just proof that there’s nothing that Babs can’t do. Jason doesn’t offer to push it. If she wanted his help she’d tell him. Or hand him something.

“Something about only helping when it suits them. Sending the government to put down anyone who needs help that they don’t want to give.”

“Threat assessment?” Jason was willing to bet that there was a reason. Maybe not a good reason, but a reason.

“Minimal so far. If they are working together, this forum seems to be their only point of contact. Ember is in Bludhaven, and although I haven’t been able to get any real id on her, Dick says there hasn’t really been anything abnormal out there. She uses a different computer almost every time and pays in cash. Technus is in Metropolis. Has some pretty nasty firewalls. I could get past them but then he’d probably know. Desiree is in Yale, studying psychology. She’s probably the one I have the most information on. Real name Jasmine McLain. Eldest daughter of two middle class parents, younger sibling died in a hit and run in high school, left town first chance she got and never looked back. Overachiever in high school and got an associates in Psychology while working full time. Doesn’t know much about net security but nothing stands out beyond that.”

Jason shelved a few more books. Wished he still smoked. “Something doesn’t feel right.” He couldn’t put his finger on what.

“Sure it’s not that jacket?” Jason looked down at himself, frowning. He looked pretentious. He looked like an asshole. He looked like Tim or Bruce.

“Now that’s just mean and uncalled for Barbie.” He said her name just loud enough for some stupid barely 18 year old somewhere in the stacks to chirp back ‘Hi Barbie’ almost automatically.

Babs pulled a face, elbowed him in the ribs. “Laugh it up J.J. the Jet Plane.”

In spite of the carefully honed bat instinct that said he was missing something important, Jason smiled.

[crios31]

Chapter 1: The aide

Smut and story building (Defloration, creampie, blowjob, facial)

Lenght 1890 words

You recently finished your university’s year so your parents are visiting you, the three of you are sitting in your living room talking.

“So son, how are your preparations for Korea going?”

“All the paperworks concerning universities and the exchange student program are now done. My flight is booked for the end of the month but I’ll make a stop in Japan to see my friends for two weeks so I’ll arrive in Seoul around mid-July.”

“Good. You should have ample time to take your marks before starting your internship at the holding company over there then.” Says your father while nodding. “It will be a good opportunity for you to learn about the company, after all you’ll be taking it over following your graduation. Now I’ll let your mom explain something to you.”

“So, concerning the person that will be your aide in Korea, we asked her to come today. She should arrive shortly.” Said your mother. 

“That’s good, I was curious about who it could be.”

“For that, do you remember the scholarship program I’m in charge?”

“Yes, you created it following the opening of your first private school. Girls are chosen because they show potential and the program supports them until the end of their studies.” 

“You’re right but there is more to it. I’ll give you a file explaining everything when you’ll be leaving for Japan. What you need to know is, we helped her family in the past, plus she is smart, so we selected her from the program to work for you. We then explained everything to her and she was very curious to know more about you and in the end she accepted our offer. 

“As for more information about her, she is Canadian but was born in South Korea so she has both nationalities, she is a little older than you and recently graduated with a master degree, moreover she is an excellent cook. Finally, the most important information is that this sweet girl will do everything you want. " As she finished her sentence the doorbell rang. “Oh that should be her!”

Your mother asks you to wait as they go to your door to let the guest in . When they return to the room, a beautiful young woman is following them.

Your mother put a hand on her shoulder. “Son, this is Wendy.”

She greets you with a bright smile and cheerful voice.

“Good evening sir, I'm Son Seung-Hwan but I usually go by my English name Wendy. Nice to finally meet you!”

“Nice to meet you too.” you answered smiling

“We'll let you both get to know each other. Have fun kiddos!” says your father as he begins to leave.

“See you soon son.” And with a whisper adds, “Oh I forgot to tell you, she’s still a virgin.”She winks at you before passing the door, your father follows his wife outside while chuckling because he heard her.

You return to your living room where your guest is waiting.

You gazed at Wendy’s body for a moment before beginning to caress her cheek making her blush, “Strip down to your underwear.”

At first confused, she soon complied as she began by taking her T-shirt then her jeans, now you can see her toned body adorned with a black matching set of underwear.

“It’s done, sir.”

She silently waits for your next command as you take a minute admiring her exposed body, making her heart beat faster.“So pretty.” is the last thing she hears as you hold her by the waist and begin to kiss her. As you deepen the kiss she begins to respond by putting her hand around your neck, your tongues playing with each other. Your hands don’t stay idle as they roam her body.

With the kiss end, you turn Wendy's body around, one of your hands unhooking her bra which soon falls on the floor as you start to play with her breasts. Small moans start coming from Wendy’s mouth because of your fondling. Each of her boobs resting in the palm of your hand. you slowly feel the tips hardening, so you decide to give it a pinch to the now hard nipple, eliciting a loud moan from her mouth. “What a beautiful voice.” you whispered.

“Thank you.” she answered, turning her head trying to face you. So you kiss her again.

While you still play with one of her tits, you begin to slowly explore downward with the other. When your hand finally reaches its destination, her panties are completely drenched under your fingers. “Someone is excited.” you pointed out, before kissing her neck as you trace her lower lips over her underwear provoking a shiver from Wendy.

She watches your hand going into her panties. She grabs your wrist and closes her legs when she feels your finger touching the source of her wetness.

You begin to move your fingers along her entrance, teasing her clit each time they go up. Her moans soon become more frequent, so you decide to focus on her clit. You increase your speed, feeling Wendy close to her peak.

“Sir.I'm… I’m coming!” shouted Wendy as her legs grow weak. 

You give her a moment before carrying her to your bedroom where you put her on your bed. She watches you undress while biting her lips, until you finally put down your boxer.

“It’s.. big. ” She said looking at your cock..

Now naked you approach her on the bed grabbing the hem of her panties to remove. With the final obstacle out of the way, you open Wendy’s legs.

“What a cute pussy,” you said before getting into position with the head of your cock pressed against her entrance. You slowly push it in spreading her fold apart making her wince.

“Wait! It’ll never fit!” She shouted as your tip touched her thin membrane. 

“Take a breath and relax as much as possible” You firmly grasp her hips and thrust the rest of your cock until she is full.

“Aah too big! It hurts!” She shouted, her hand gripping the sheet with all her strength.

“Don’t worry it’ll soon feel good. You passed the hardest part,” as you keep a slow pace for some time while making out in order for her to relax. Soon you feel her arms intertwined around your neck and her legs around your waist, as she begins to adjust to your size. “See it’s better now.” you said, smiling at her.

“Yes, it’s still painful but it’s also starting to feel good,” she answered. “You can go faster.”

You then gradually increase your pace as her pussy fully accepts your cock. Wendy gets more and more vocal, so you take one of her nipples in your mouth, sucking on it while teasing her clit with one of your hands.

“Oh.. yeah just continue like that! Yes! Yes! YES!” she shouted as her limbs tightened around you and her walls clenching around your cock showing the start of her orgasm. You stop moving to watch her body shaking. And when the wave of pleasure subsided you began to thrust again. “What? Wait! Cum..  cumming again” she said with her eyes rolling back.

This time you don’t stop as you’re close to your peak, the sound of both yours flesh clapping against each other becoming more frequent,”Fuck! I’m cumming!” And with this last trust you release your load deep inside her, filling her womb. “Damn.. it feels so good.” 

You take a moment to rest before taking your cock out of her freshly deflowered pussy, now empty, both of your fluid begin to drip on the bed sheet. “We’re going to have a lot of fun together in the future,” you said grinning at Wendy who has regained her focus. “Now let’s get cleaned up.”

“Sir? Can I have some help?” 

You lift her, drops of your seed continue to fall from her cunt, leaving a trail behind you as you enter the bathroom. Now in the shower you put her down, Wendy leaning against the glass for support.

Both of you exhale as the water hits your bodies, you begin to wash each other, but you soon feel vigor returning between your legs. “Ready for another round?” You asked before she notices your growing erection.

“I don’t think I will be able to take it in again today sir.”

You paused a little before looking at her lips, “Then suck on it.”

She complies and drops to her knees, slowly grabbing your cock as she hesitantly gives it a few pumps. “Now for starters focus on the head by licking it.” She pulls her tongue out and gives you a tip with growing confidence she explores it covering  it with saliva.

“Good girl, now take it in.” You said softly caressing her head.

She nods, putting your cock in her mouth while looking at you, with upturned eyes stopping a little before a third of the length. “Try to take it deeper.” She starts bobbing her head and takes more of your member each time, but soon you hear a small gag showing her limit. You let her continue the fellation, as you savor the feeling coming from your groin, in particular the feeling of her tongue on the underside of your cock. 

“Good just like that.” you say, patting her head. “I’m close, take it out while you continue to jerk it.” She obeys, your cock leaving her mouth with a pop, placing both her hands around it, moving them up and down with more confidence than when she started.

“Here it comes.”

You ejaculate, sending a big wave of sperm out, painting Wendy’s face white. You watch your work when she decides to taste some of it by licking her lips.

“I’ll need some time to get used to the taste and texture”

You smile at this before both of you resume your shower as Wendy has to clean herself of the slimy liquid on her visage. Exiting the bathroom both of you put your clothes on.

“Are you hungry Wendy?”

“A little.”

“Alright, I’ll make us something. I heard that you are a good cook. I hope that I can experience it soon.” You said with a smile.

“You can count on it.” She answered, smiling back at you.

After having dinner, you let her stay for the night.

—-------------

In the following weeks, you meet again with Wendy, learning more about each other, and having sex with her on multiple occasions, until the day for your departure arrives.

“Sir, are you ready?” asked Wendy from behind you.

“Yes, I was checking that I didn’t forget anything. Let‘s wait outside for my parents.”

You both exit your home with your luggages, and five minutes later your parent’s car arrives. With your dad's help you put everything in the trunk before getting into the car. 

Your father starts the car and soon you are on the highway in the direction of the airport.

[wndanatz]

SUGARMOMMY!WANDA || HEADCANONS

pairing: sugarmommy!wanda x sugarbaby!freader

summary: random head canons of reader being wanda’s spoiled sugarbaby.

warnings: wanda is a silverfox (yum), praise kink, mommy kink, softdom!wanda mostly, lap sitting, ass grabbing, mentions of slapping, light exhibition

a/n: these had been running in my head for too long and i’ve decided that i need her in a way that puts feminism behind 500 years.

you met her because you were waitressing in her favourite restaurant, with a degree in english literature you were bound to end up in a place like that.

she was incredibly kind from the start, greeting you with a big smile and a bigger tip.

divorced silverfox!!!! and always called you pet names when you came with her food!!!!!!!! and the “thank you, my darling” would leave you a blushing mess.

the situation started when she saw you getting fired in front of her because of a encounter between you and a costumer and when she saw the tears in your eyes she knew she had to do something.

you can’t say you weren’t surprised. but the offer was so tempting and she was looking so so fine in her tailored black suit and slacks. you blurted a yes immediately and embarrassed yourself. but she reassured you with a pet on your hair.

she’s beautiful. and she’s kind. and she takes such good care of you, it didn’t take long for you to start falling for her. and she lets you stay in her condo, making sure you’re treated like a princess.

a soft dom!!!!!!!! always calling you “princess”, “my love”, “darling” and “dear” only when she’s incredibly pissed at you misbehaving.

praise kink, always praising you for doing the littlest things. praising you when you’re eating her out so good or praising you for bringing her briefcase to her before she leaves for work.

everyone at work calls you “mrs. maximoff” but wanda never corrects them and you’re too shy to.

often you bring lunch to her office and she immediately leaves whatever she’s doing to have you settle in her lap. you two either eat together or she fucks you on top of her desk with the strap she keeps in her last drawer, whispering in your ear to keep quiet or else the ppl will hear you. and that makes you wetter around her strap.

the mommy kink goes crazy. you just have to pout and call her mommy and she’s ready to do anything for you, to the point you can physically see her lose control, her pupils dilating and her breathing heavy.

only when you misbehave severely, you can make her angry. she makes sure to immediately put you in your place tho, either by a slap to your face or by grabbing your ass so firmly she leaves a bruise.

[svt-luna]

ʚིᵋ FACTS ABOUT LUNA ᵌɞྀ

synopsis: Get to know more about Luna from this list of facts exclusively about her.

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST

ೀ Luna’s full name is Bae Jiyeon (배지연) from Sino-Korean 智 (ji) meaning "wisdom, intellect" or 志 (ji) meaning "will, purpose, ambition" combined with 妍 (yeon) meaning "beautiful.”

ೀ Her English name Luna is Latin for “moon” because her mother who named her loves anything moon-related.

ೀ A list of Luna’s endorsements and brands she is an ambassador of: Miu Miu, Dior Beauty, YSL Beauty, Laura Mercier, Chaumet, Innisfree, Kirsh, Bvlgari, Cartier, SK Telecom, Gospheres, Hapa Kristin, EIDER, FRED, SJSJ, Amuse, rolarola, Kérastase

ೀ If she wasn’t an idol she would still be a ballerina or a psychologist.

ೀ From a young age, she has always been an observant person. She has picked up a habit of analyzing people and their behaviors which made her want to study to be a psychologist.

ೀ Luna is a Psychology major and has a Bachelor of Science in Clinical Psychology.

ೀ When asked why she pursued this major she answered: “I had three dreams growing up. One was to be an idol which I have already achieved. Second, was to be a ballerina— and despite not being able to fully continue to be a full-time ballerina, I still got to perform as one multiple times as a young girl and I can still perform as one now if given the opportunity. Lastly, I wanted to be a psychologist— getting a PhD is possible, sure, but I love performing… my place is on the stage, and studying for that long will take my time away from the stage. So I decided to get a bachelor's degree instead… so I guess you can say that all my dreams have come true.”

ೀ Luna is terrified of spiders. Terrified to the point just seeing a picture or a video makes her physically flinch. No matter what kind of spider, no matter the size or color she would lose her mind and start crying on the spot.

ೀ She is also claustrophobic. She doesn’t do well in crowded places. So whenever they are mobbed by fans, Luna would always be holding one of the members’ hands for comfort. She mentioned in an interview how she got stuck in an elevator once when she was younger which is probably where her phobia stems from. Because of this, she has a habit of staring at the floor whenever she is in an elevator— she claims: “Looking at the walls makes me want to claw my way out the door myself.” She also never rides an elevator alone and would rather take the stairs if needed.

ೀ She is allergic to mushrooms and almost went into anaphylactic shock when she was nine years old.

ೀ Her favorite flowers are tulips.

ೀ She hates math but for some reason is good at it.

ೀ She hates doing aegyo but unknowingly does it and is good at it.

ೀ She dislikes being called “noona” by literally anyone, most especially the youngest members of the group. She understands it’s polite and customary to do so but she wasn’t raised in Korea, so being called “noona” just makes her feel old. However, Seungkwan, Vernon, and Dino still call her that out of habit— mostly Dino. Meanwhile, Minghao, Mingyu, and Dokyeom who have no reason to call her “noona” whatsoever because they are all born in the same year, like to tease her by calling her “noona.” Luna has gotten used to it though after all these years… she has gotten used to filtering them out.

ೀ Luna loves bunnies. They are her favorite animals and she loves the fact that she is often compared to one. She always wanted one growing up, however, her mom is allergic to fur which is why she never got one.

ೀ Luna loves the cold. Winter is her favorite season not just for the ambiance but because of the temperature. Some fans call her “Elsa” not only because of her cold appearance but also for her love of the cold.

ೀ Her body naturally runs warm which is why you would often see her holding onto Jeonghan’s hands who is the complete opposite and gets cold often.

ೀ Luna has a Lego addiction and the fact that her best friend turned boyfriend Jeonghan has it too doesn't help.

ೀ Luna had the biggest crush on Draco Malfoy as a child and Loki as a teen. During a fan sign, a fan asked her about her crushes and asked her why she liked the bad boys who were littered with red flags. Luna simply smirked and answered: “Red is my favorite color. Plus I have red-tinted glasses… couldn’t see.”

ೀ It is well known that Luna used to train for YG Entertainment for a year before moving to PLEDIS. Because of this fans speculate that if she stayed in her previous company, there would have been a chance she would have debuted with Blackpink.

ೀ S.Coups said in an interview that Luna had the “YG vibe” when she first joined PLEDIS— they could easily tell what company she was in before just by the way she carried herself and how she dressed.

ೀ Some people are surprised that she can rap and does well when the unit teams switch songs, especially with the Hip Hop Team. Luna trained to rap at YG Entertainment not because she wanted to but because her trainers claimed that she would do well as both a vocalist and a rapper.

ೀ According to Hoshi, Luna is very flexible in terms of her talents and claims that she could easily be in all of the sub-units if she wanted to.

ೀ Luna has a high pain tolerance which she claims to be both a blessing and a curse.

ೀ She has a terrible habit of fidgeting when she's anxious or nervous. You would often see her twisting the rings in her fingers, playing with her necklace, or cracking her knuckles which Jeonghan always scolded her for.

ೀ Her habits and Jeonghan’s habits go hand in hand. Because of her fidgeting and Jeonghan’s desire to always have something in his hand for emotional support— you would often see the two holding hands. Luna’s hands are for Jeonghan’s emotional support whilst Jeonghan’s hands are to stop Luna from fidgeting.

ೀ Luna’s favorite colors are red and pink because according to her red looks good on her and pink is, according to her, “red’s little sister”… which also looks good on her. And that these colors make her happy… it doesn't change the fact that half of the clothes she owns and wears often are black but that's beside the point.

ೀ She hates loud noises. She’s good with scary movies and doesn’t get scared easily during their GoSe horror specials— however, it’s the sudden loud noises that get her. Which is why you would often see her covering her ears when she gets startled.

ೀ She is a shopaholic it’s borderline problematic. Luna is one of the Instagram addicts of the members and is one of the fashionistas in the group— wherever they may travel, she has to buy an item of clothing… emphasizing “has to”.

ೀ Luna is the queen of eye contact. Whenever she is talking to anyone, you’d often see her staring straight into their soul— this causes a few of the members and mostly people outside the group to be flustered. According to Luna: “My parents taught me to always look at a person's eye to eye when talking to them because it’s disrespectful not to. It’s actually a struggle for me to not maintain eye contact.”

ೀ She is part of the iron deficiency line.

ೀ She loves getting her nails done. Her nails are almost always freshly manicured.

ೀ Luna doesn’t drink often but when she does she is one of the members with the highest tolerance. However, despite her calm and quiet personality, she is a talkative drunk— she just rants about literally anything.

ೀ She is lowkey (highkey) obsessed with long, black-haired Jeonghan. Luna claims it’s his best hairstyle because it makes him look like a certain Marvel villain she had a huge crush on growing up… blonde Jeonghan is a close second for her… because… Draco Malfoy, duh (Luna acknowledges that she has a type.)

ೀ Luna is an amazing cook and likes cooking for the members, however she loves baking the absolute most.

ೀ She’s a huge One Direction fan.

ೀ Bows are her best friends. She always has a couple of bows lying around somewhere near her— cute little bows on her hair, tied to her bag, her outfits… the members’ stuff.

ೀ Luna absolutely hates it when someone leaves the door wide open. She cannot for the life of her wrap her head around the fact someone could open a door, walk into a room, and not close the door right back— every time someone does that, you’d see her eyes lingering on the door until someone notices and closes it.

ೀ If you want to piss her off and get cursed at in both English and Korean— wake her up, bonus points if you open the lights. Luna is a very disciplined and organized person. Whenever she needs to wake up early for shoots, performances, or for traveling purposes, she always sets an alarm— always. So she hates being woken up in her sleep for absolutely no reason.

ೀ And because of this, the members agreed that Luna is one of the scariest when angry.

ೀ Luna is quiet when angry. She’s naturally a quiet person but there is something about the silence when she’s angry— it’s different. It’s like you sense and feel her anger rather than see it.

ೀ Luna is an assertive person but completely deteriorates the second Jeonghan decides to baby her— she may act like it annoys her but both she and Jeonghan know… she loves being babied.

ೀ She’s not the jealous type… she’s the possessive type (Jeonghan’s ego is bigger than ever)

ೀ Her nicknames given by fans: “Ace”, “Elsa”, “Bunny”, “It Girl”, “Siren”, “Bubbles”, and “Baeby”

ೀ Her nicknames given by the members: “Jiyeonie”, “Lulu”, “Nie-Nie”, and “Princess” (whenever she’s being sassy or spoiled— she hates this nickname)

ೀ Her nicknames given by Jeonghan: “Nana”, “Angel”, “Angel-face”, “Pretty Angel”, “My Angel”, “My Moon”, “Baby Moon”, and “Pretty Girl” (Luna thinks that Jeonghan wants her dead cause he gets super creative with his nicknames for her)

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUEST AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡ - lunaఌ

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[omegastation]

Hi. I haven’t used Tumblr in such a long time. It's kinda weird. Last time was two years ago...

I went to Valencia in Spain a few months later. Some parts of it reminded me of the Citadel. I wanted to write about it here, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t really come back here because I couldn’t play the game. I couldn’t concentrate at all, couldn’t finish a simple mission, couldn’t just “play”. I’m still in my first Legendary playthrough if you can believe it. I was losing something that brought me joy and didn’t really know what to do.

And the long story short about my time away: I got a Master’s degree while still working (evening & weekend classes). It’s fairly recent, I learned in June that I got a "Grande Distinction" (with great distinction? idk how to translate it well in English, it's just one of the highest marks). So that was nice :)

Less nice: I got a severe pulmonary embolism in November. My lungs are okay but I have to deal with daily hyperventilation now, which means I’m quite tired and need to make an appointment soon for respiratory physiotherapy. If you’re wondering, I don’t smoke and I’m fairly active. What else? I’m about to self-publish (finally!!!) my collection of short stories in French. Mom helped me yesterday, we ordered printed books. So I'm still writing. Reading and knitting all the time. And I’m still working at the same job I was working at, and I’m happy there, though it can be demanding and I have to be careful not to overwork myself.

In the end, I did manage to come back to the game and finish a mission. Not only that, but I played more missions, and that was a real "omg I can do it" moment. And the more I play, the more I want to talk about it. So there you have it, I hope I can come back and just try to enjoy myself in a chill way. I don't know how long, we'll see. I think time has helped me, at least, to look at things differently. I don't want to feel any type of obligation. I want to do things for fun because it's fun, and let that be enough.

It’s been so long, the fandom has probably changed a lot. Some people might be gone. I’ll reintroduce myself one way or another, but right now I’ll just find stuff I like to reblog and talk about all the ideas that come to mind. Bear with me if it has been said recently or so many times before. I just feel like starting all over again and I missed a lot of posts. My memory isn't what it's used to be either tbh...

Finally, I hope you’re all doing well. Thank you to the people who sent me messages. One person wrote that they missed me. I don’t know who they are, it was anon, but that really moved me, because I really did miss this community and all the discussions we had. I also miss, as always, Dustie who has been gone for a while now.

Anyway. Thank you.

[watership-clown]

Debunking Lily's "Behavioural Psychology Degree" with facts and logic (and a two minute google search)

First of all, big ups to @skrinkskronk (EDIT: ammended the screenshot credit :) thank you to skrinkskronk for both the picture and the clarification!) as, without their keen screenshot button, this post could not and would not exist. You can check for yourself - the original ask no longer lives on Lily's blog (a fact that I'm sure many Lily defenders will have quite the opinion about - please see the questions section below! <3) Second of all: who the fuck am I?

Someone who attended university in Canada, that's who!

For real though: I have a bachelor's degree from the University of British Columbia, double majoring in English Literature and History. Does this mean I know anything at all about getting a behavioural psych degree?

No!

But I do know how attending university in Canada works. It is not at all as Lily describes. I'm going to largely avoid talking about the degree itself in this post - CrimsonEnder has already done the research on that and I highly recommend checking out his post for more information on why Lily couldn't even get the degree she claims to have studied for. Instead, I'm going to go forward as if we are in an alternate dimension where Lily made the far more believable claim that she was working towards a Bachelor of Science degree with a focus on Psychology.

Let's do a close reading, shall we?

And barely graduating is still graduating.

Starting off strong: this is a true statement! She's right, to get your high school diploma in the province of Nova Scotia, one must:

Meet the minimum number of credits requited for graduation, which is 18 (source: creditsforgraduationdiplomaen.pdf (ednet.ns.ca) )

That's it! (in my province we also had to pass a literacy assessment and do some 30 odd hours of community service. no, I'm not still salty about it 10 years later.)

However, passing is not succeeding. Lily has stated that she barely passed high school, did the bare minimum to get it over and done with. This is fine in and of itself. I attach no moral or intellectual weight to not caring about high school as it is by no means set up to let every child succeed. However, doing the "bare minimum" to pass does not open many doors for further schooling down the road. So, in order to pass a class, one must achieve a minimum of 60% - otherwise known as a grade of C. Assuming that for her 12th grade year Lily took a full load of 4 courses over two semesters, achieving the minimum grade that would allow her to walk the stage and get her diploma, she would leave high school with a 2.0 gpa.

Remember this score. 2.0. We will come back to this.

This is in Canada, there's no SAT's to take.

Look at that! 2 for 2 true statements. Canada has no SAT or nation-wide equivalent. Understanding this, in order to meet the minimum requirements for admission into university, one's GPA plays an extremely large role. For example, in order to even be considered for admission into McGill, one of Canada's top universities, one must have a 3-year minimum grade range of 85% (an A) and a final GPA of 4.0. Grades equal to or above this minimum do not guarantee admission (NO, I'm NOT still salty that I didn't get admitted). With a 2.0 GPA, Lily's application would have been tossed after a glance. "BUT BUT BUT!" I hear you say, "this is from one of Canada's most selective institutions! In a province Lily doesn't even live in! You're holding her to an improbable standard!" And you would be right! But this was just an example to showcase how university admissions function. Let's look at a uni a little closer to home. Let's even look at four:

Dalhousie University Undergrad minimum requirements: 75% or 3.0 (source: General admission requirements | Dalhousie University) )

Mount Saint Vincent University: 70% or 2.70 with no individual grade below 60% (source: Admissions (msvu.ca) )

Saint Mary's University: 70% or 2.70 with no individual grade below 60% (source: Canadian High School Curriculum Requirements | Future Students | Saint Mary's University (smu.ca) )

University of King's College: 75% or 2.0 with no individual grade below 60% (source: Undergraduate Admission Requirements | University of King's College (ukings.ca) )

She doesn't meet the minimum requirements for any local Halifax university or college with a psych program. However, if we are to be charitable, (and believe that Lily scored slightly above the true minimum of 60%) MSVU could have admitted her based on individual merit. From their mature students policy, we can read:

Applicants who present overall grade XII averages between 65 and 69 percent will be reviewed for admission on an individual basis. (source: Admissions (msvu.ca) )

I'm not going to pretend this isn't the case or couldn't be true or try to obfuscate it from her and her defenders.

... But if the rebuttal is so easy, why doesn't she say that?

You either graduated High School or you didn't.

I'm sure Lily did graduate high school. I'm certain she did so after putting in the minimum amount of required work. I do not believe that she has or ever intends to attend university in Canada.

Objections I'm sure this post will spark:

"skrinkskronk's screenshot could be faked!"

And I could have blue skin, but that is not reality. Rather than taking my word for the fact that this ask was real, the answer Lily gave was as shown above, and many people saw it before it went MIA, I instead invite you to consider something: asking Lily yourself. Go on! Ask her! In whatever way you find most comfortable, ask how she went to university for a) a degree that doesn't exist b) with a below-requirement gpa and c) paid for it with money she doesn't have. When she deletes your ask, ignores your superchat, or approaches your honest and genuine thirst for truth with hostility, I then want you to ask yourself why that is.

"Lily could have upgraded her scores at a local college before applying to university!"

Did she say that? Has she ever claimed to have done that? Or are you putting the right words into her mouth so she can easily go "Yup! that's what I did! Obviously!"

If she had done this (or had at least thought of this herself), why didn't she claim to have done this in the original ask? Wouldn't it be easier to just say "I upgraded later" than pretend that a measly 2.0 could get you into an advanced degree program? I have no doubt that Lily is going to recount her story and claim the above statement was true all along. "[She] just upgraded!" But I ask you to think on this, to really consider it: why is the story only changing after confrontation? If the answer is so simple and so obvious... why was it not always true?

"You say at multiple points that Lily could easily provide a rebuttal but she doesn't owe you or any of her critics a response!"

This is true! However, she responds to criticism all the time.

Her taking down Sai's streams is her responding to Sai's criticism. Her snarkily talking around Ant and his content in her videos is her responding to his criticism. Her answering asks from her fans (despite in her "rules" stating that she will not) filling her in on the goings on of her critics is a response to their criticism. A response isn't always the literal "and to that I say: blah blah blah".

If Crimson, I, or anyone else who thought twice about this situation were wrong: could we not be easily disproved? She is the one who (supposedly) attempted the degree. The records would exist. She would have access to them. She would not run away when challenged with a very easily disprovable argument. As much as Lily loves to protest that she ignores the haters and refuses to respond to criticism, that claim is demonstrably false. She responds to criticism all the time - she can't keep Sai, Crimson, or Ant's names out of her mouth while on stream, in her videos, or on her blog. If she had an easy win, she would take it. She has before. She will again.

Closing Arguments

I feel like I have adequately demonstrated that, even if Lily did apply for an undergraduate degree, if not the flashy shiny

Behavioural Psychology

that she claims, she likely wouldn't have even made it past the admissions stage. I don't want to say that it's completely impossible for her to have attempted post-secondary education. As stated above: MSVU could have admitted her based on individual merit.

What I do hope is that this post invites people think more critically about her claims.

What do I think happened with the original ask? I think some anon, the original question asker or otherwise, challenged her before I or CrimsonEnder did. This scared her and, realizing she'd been caught, tried to wash away the evidence before anyone else could trip on the lie. Sadly, that's not what happened.

If she did attend university, how did she pay for it? Is a 2.0 GPA enough to qualify her for a scholarship, grant, or bursary? A 4 year degree in Canada can easily run a person $6,463 per year, not including textbooks or other fees. Where did she suddenly get that much money? These claims are so easily questioned and disproven because Lily Orchard thinks her audience is too whipped and fundamentally too stupid to ever seek the information for themselves.

She does not respect you. She does not respect your intelligence as a human being.

You deserve better.

[rotisserory]

Aventurine Is BPD Coded- Some Thoughts

Ahhh welcome back everybody to another installment of 'Rory writes a ridiculously long essay nobody asked for to shine light on characters who exhibit symptoms of borderline personality disorder so that we can learn to recognize symptoms portrayed in media that aren't just 'crazy manipulative abusive ex' and start to treat the disorder with a shred of compassion' !!

A good chunk of you follow me because of my essay I wrote on Reo Mikage from Blue Lock, my beautiful borderline princess, and I am PLEASED to announce that my essay is now the first result when you search 'Reo Mikage BPD' on Google, AND he has since been added to the BPD character database !! Saving the world one baddie at a time, no need to thank me B)

Today, I want to write something out that I've been dying to share. I think Aventurine can be read as a BPD coded character, and I think he would be able to cop a diagnosis should he go see a therapist (which we all know he CLEARLY has not done). I've been puttering around posting this because I've been spending so long on a full, all encompassing analysis of this sick blonde man, but I want to take a quick break and kick my feet over BPD Aventurine, so I invite you to come kick your feet with me!

Some context before I start:

1.) Borderline representation is extremely important to me. I've got the BPD / CPTSD combo meal, so I'm having TWICE the fun !! But seriously though, it's not easy being viewed as crazy and 'bad' all the time. Trauma disorders are rough enough as it is just to live with / overcome, but it's worse when there are books, forums, blogs, shows, ect. dedicated to hating you and talking about how evil you are. So, I get really excited when I spy BPD-coded characters (especially if they're likable people and not just ghoulish irredeemable villains or manic pixie dream girl characters). Fans, characters, and even Aventurine himself refer to him as 'crazy' 'insane' 'unstable' which only further rang my BPD bells because he's not crazy; he's just traumatized!

2.) I’m not a psych, so I obviously can’t diagnose real people, and don’t use any of this to diagnose yourself (I don't need the scandal!) I do, however, have a masters degree in English and structured the basis of my education and published my thesis on mental health, cluster B personality disorders specifically, so I read and research a LOT. I’m confident enough in my knowledge to diagnose anime characters (lol).

3.) If you're somebody who has a weird hangup about borderlines, feel free to either not read this, or do read it and soak up some useful information! Regardless, I know Aventurine fans can have some really wild takes (/neg) , so believe what you want at the end of the day! This is just my interpretation of what's festering in that sad brain of his. You can disagree all you want to, but what we're not going to do is spread hateful stereotypes or perpetuate negative stigmas about BPD! That's cornball behavior and I will call you out for it ^-^

CW for discussion of death, suicide, self injury, and identity disturbances

Anyways, if you ask me, Aventurine has a case of Beautiful Princess Disorder, and I'd like to explain why <3 So, buckle up! This will be another long one.

First, let me define BPD: it's a personality disorder characterized by a long-standing pattern of instability in mood, interpersonal relationships, and self-image. Though it's coined as a 'personality disorder', I urge you to look at it as a trauma disorder. People most often develop it when they are repeatedly traumatized during their formative years. It actually overlaps a TON with complex post traumatic stress disorder, which is why a lot of us baddies end up with both! (On that note, you could definitely view Aventurine as CPTSD-coded as well! I'm a stinky kinnie so I'll just say he's both <3) I won't preach too much on why it's so necessary to treat borderline as a traumatic stress disorder (since hopefully I'll be focusing my own personal academic research on that and I could yap for HOURS about it lol).

But when we look at BPD properly, it's evident that the basis of this disorder is that these people didn't have the opportunity to learn and foster proper emotional reactions. Because of the recurring traumatic events, sections of borderline's brains are underdeveloped as a result. They have a smaller amygdala and they have reduced volume in the prefrontal cortex, as well as other differences in brain development. I've heard it described as 'you were forced to learn some behaviors that helped you survive at one point in your life (for example, maybe fervent efforts to avoid abandonment, unstable emotional reactions, self harming tendencies, lying, mirroring, etc.,) but now you need to unlearn them, because they’re no longer helping you.'  They're trauma responses.

Aventurine shows us a perfect example of the kind of shit that would make someone develop BPD: dude grew up in extreme poverty, was constantly told he was special and he was supposed to bring good luck, watched his entire family and race die in front of him when he was literally still just a kid, was kidnapped and sold into slavery, was forced to murder roughly 34 people while everybody watched him like it was a game, probably went through several other fucked up things while he was enslaved, and then killed his slave owner and was promptly sentenced to death for it. That's...a whole lot of ridiculous trauma that would severely impact somebody's ability to mentally grow and develop correctly. The bulk of his childhood/adolescence was spent with no safety, no security, overwhelming guilt, constant fight or flight reactions, learning how to take on other personas to avoid violence or mistreatment – you get the point. He did not have a normal life and it is absolutely probable that he would develop a trauma disorder from the shit he's been through.

So then, what behaviors/signs does somebody need to exhibit to receive a Borderline diagnosis? The 9 diagnostic criteria for BPD are as follows:

1. Fear of abandonment

2. Unstable or changing relationships

3. Unstable self-image; struggles with identity or sense of self

4. Impulsive or self-damaging behaviors

5. Suicidal behavior or self-injury

6. Varied or random mood swings

7. Constant feelings of worthlessness or sadness

8. Problems with anger, including frequent loss of temper or physical fights

9. Stress-related paranoia or loss of contact with reality

As with my last post, I'm going to organize this based on the 5 immediate traits I think Aventurine exhibits most (you only need 5 out of 9 to receive a diagnosis, so let me cut to the chase and stop wasting your time w my yapping).

Fear of Abandonment:

Aventurine has a habit of wanting relationships and then pushing them away once they get too close. He also clearly has trauma associated with losing people prematurely.

First of all, let's look at Aventurine's tendency to view relationships as transactional. With the expectation that a friendship, partnership – whatever –  is mutually beneficial, that generally implies both parties will leave satisfied once the 'transaction' is complete. That’s his parting line in the game, actually! “Satisfied with our transaction, I trust?” 

That being said, he's already prepared for people to leave when they're done getting what they want from him. In one trailer (and the game) he refers to himself as "another cog in the machine known as the strategic investment department" and then says, "Your humble servant aventurine at your disposal [...] I can also play the role of ‘friend’ – if needed; Go ahead, use me as you wish, even stab me in the back if you see fit."

This is a very strange thing to say upon first meeting someone LMAO. He's speaking of himself like he's an object, rather than a person. Before the other party even says anything, he's basically saying 'hey btw if you end up disappointing me in some way, i'm already prepared for it!' Establishing relationships with the assumption that the other person will betray you/abandon you/hurt you in some way? Borderline behavior. God forbid somebody does try to break down one of these walls, we'll see Aventurine's second habit to avoid abandonment: pushing people away.

Something people don't necessarily consider is that ‘efforts to avoid abandonment’ doesn't always mean the person is on their knees begging you to not to leave them. It can manifest as someone being very flighty and purposefully cutting ties randomly/pushing people away from them so that nobody is able to abandon them. If you leave first, they can’t leave you, right? This is a very common behavior for borderlines to avoid the pain that comes with being abandoned.

The most notable moment of this, in my opinion, is when Aventurine tries to gaslight himself into thinking that Ratio really did stab him in the back during their ploy against Sunday. As we know, their fighting, bickering, and Ratio's 'betrayal' were all part of Aventurine's plan. When they leave Sunday's office, Ratio immediately asks if he's okay and if he needs help, and Aventurine is very dismissive/a little rude in his response. Ratio is confused because Aventurine is talking as if he wasn't the one who MADE this plan and TOLD Ratio what to do:

Aventurine is basically saying, "Hey babe this is not in the script we talked about! Let's stay on track, remember? You hate me, you betrayed me, and now you're leaving me!" And Ratio is like "Yeah okay but are you good? Because you don't seem good,” but Aventurine's heels are so far in the dirt at this point that he is NOT budging at all. When he's in the Trauma Maze, Future Aventurine grills him on this moment:

I get why this part confused some people; why would Aventurine think this when the plan was his idea in the first place? Because, he subconsciously doesn't want to get too attached to the idea that Ratio might ACTUALLY care about him or want to help him. He's forcing himself to think "no, that's not what he was doing, he was planning on actually ratting me out all along, he was only asking about my wellbeing to get in my head."

However, I think it's evident that Aventurine wants relationships/attention just as much as everybody else does, he just won't let himself have it. To further this idea, I think the lyrics to White Night (the Penacony trailer theme song) are worth looking at (these specifically):

I don't wanna be alone tonightOh, lead me with your altered signThere's no one else left for me to loseHeadin' to the other side, other side

I don't wanna be alone tonightI'll bring you to my best disguise'Cause you don't need, don't need to know the truthLet me rave forever in your life

The song is obviously about Aventurine when you look at the lyrics, but these lines in particular just further my point that this man does NOT like the fact that he's alone. He wants relationships, he wants closeness, but he rejects it at the same time out of fear that he might lose somebody prematurely again and doesn't want to experience being abandoned or being rejected for his personality (his real one or his fake one), which leads me to...

Unstable Self-Image; Struggles With Identity or Sense of Self:

The shift from Kakavasha to Aventurine screwed this guy up REAL bad. A MASSIVE part of Aventurine's character, in my opinion, is his struggle with his identity/sense of self. I mean, he literally had to kill off who he used to be in order to live how he's living now, and he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Jade sums it up pretty well when Aventurine is sat before her on trial: 

Aventurine joining the IPC comes with the price of...well, becoming 'Aventurine'. Since I'm clocking him with a BPD diagnosis, the identity disturbance would have probably happened before this moment, and I think it did. I'll bet it started festering after that first massive traumatic event where he watched his family die and tried to rationalize how that was possible with his 'good luck' (since that was really the only consistent idea he had about himself), and it probably only got worse when he became fixated on the fact that whoever tf he is, he's only worth 60 copper coins (did the math – that's about $3). That's gotta cause some massive identity issues. He's coined as this ‘good luck charm’, this ‘blessed child’, a ‘beacon of hope for the Avgins’, and somehow, he ended up in the absolute worst situation possible while simultaneously dooming all of the Avgins (obviously not his fault, but he thinks it's his fault).

When Jade tells him to pick a new identity, ironically he picks one that is everything he probably grew to hate after his childhood/adolescence.

Associating with the wealthy? The rich were the people who paid to brand him and enslave him. The IPC? Promised to help the Avgins but disappeared when the Katicans invaded, then came back and kidnapped him to sell him as a slave. Now he's both wealthy and a part of the IPC, and you have to wonder how he truly feels about it. We'll look into that more later. Regardless, he's not really 'free' now, even if he isn't technically owned by a master anymore. He's chained to the IPC because this is life now; this is his identity. Where else would he even go? What else would he do? (Die, perhaps?) It's not like he can go home, or go live a peaceful life out on the countryside somewhere. He made 'Aventurine' his entire life and his entire personality. On that note, I really like this quote from his third character story:

“The aventurine, that symbol of power and of the future, is about to be officially handed to him — Yet it would have no more allure or value in his eyes as soon he obtains it, even though he had sought it by putting his life on the line.

He returns to his office in a daze. The aventurine stone emits a peculiar glow on his desk, seemingly congratulating and mocking him at the same time."Was luck truly on your side when you wrestled with fate?"”

Did he really luck out with this one? Comparatively, of course, this is better than his life as a slave, but he essentially just traded his rusted chains for golden ones. Becoming Aventurine might wind up bringing him a lot more pain than it was worth. 

Also, the outfit he chose? Covered in gold, fur, and jewels, all materials that somebody who knows nothing about being rich would assume rich people wear in excess. It's evident in his tacky taste (sorry honey I love you so much but the hat is just crazy work you look like a pimp) that he doesn't know anything about how to dress himself. And I bully him for being tacky but it makes sense! He dresses exactly how you'd think an out-of-touch billionaire would dress. Back to his sense of identity: it's very important to establish that Aventurine feels guilty about taking on this persona! That's all 'Aventurine' is: a persona. If he were to die tomorrow, the IPC would dust off that stone and give it to another bozo who would end up being the next 'Aventurine'.

While he didn't initially develop this personality subconsciously and it was a 'choice' to start playing this role (not that he had a plethora of alternative options), the perpetuation is damaging him mentally. He does a good job of keeping up the act, obviously. This theme that his entire personality is just one big act is overarching through the entire Penacony quest, but there's one moment in particular I really liked: when Sparkle is being a jerk and he has this offhand comment about how he's so frivolous, vain, and flashy, and how he'd hate to live anywhere where it rained since his outfit is too expensive to get wet.

Then, we have this interaction in the maze: Future Aventurine brings up the memory of him and his big sister playing dead, floating in bloody water to avoid being killed by the Katicans when they attacked. He mentions that it was his father's shirt, the last one his father left behind before dying, and that it was ruined. Aventurine says it wasn't ruined, and he's always kept it. (I wonder if that's the shirt he wore during his time enslaved?) Future Aventurine grills him and asks ‘why keep it? This new person that you are would never wear something so dirty and old. 'Aventurine' wouldn't want that old rag, it's not worth any money. 'Aventurine' would never splash around in murky water like that; he wouldn't need to.’ Nobody is hunting him, now he's the hunter. Future Aventurine makes the snide comment that he bets Aventurine wouldn't even dare to go outside in the rain, let alone do any of the things Kakavasha had to do, since he's so much more elite now. Aventurine, clearly hurt by the implication, says that even after all this time, he's never changed.

Of course, he hasn't. Deep down, no matter how much he tries to trick himself and everybody around him, he's still the same scared, traumatized boy he always has been. His future self chastises him for having an inferiority complex and mentions that with every gamble he makes, he has his left hand shaking in fear behind his back.

But the constant pull to push Kakavasha down and keep up this act that 'Aventurine' is the real him obviously perpetuated the identity disturbance in him and made it a hundred times worse, to the point where (as Future Aventurine points out) the hole he's dug is basically impossible to climb out of.

Because of this, I interpret Aventurine to constantly be struggling with his identity, not knowing who really exists under all the masks he wears, not knowing if he or anybody around him will ever figure it out. I imagine he feels very empty and unfulfilled, since as I mentioned in the abandonment section, he doesn't want to be alone. But the higher he climbs on the social ladder, the further he can separate himself from other people. This is a classic issue borderlines face. We masquerade as something we think the people around us will like, someone WE might like, but it always ends up leaving us feeling more empty than before.

(This is just an added bonus to chew on, but I got stuck on this line when I played through Penacony:)

Do you think once he became Aventurine and got the money and the resources, he researched toys that normal kids play with? Fancy ones like building blocks, stuff that he would have never been exposed to as a kid? Obviously baby Kakavasha would not know wtf building toys looked like, and I'm sure teenage Kakavasha didn't have the opportunity to browse toy catalogs. But, he recognizes the toy even though he says he's never played with them before. Maybe he considered buying it but decided against it, since it doesn't fit his new persona. Kakavasha doesn't exist anymore, so there's no reason to nurture that part of him. Anyways, just wanted to hurt y'all a bit more. Speaking of hurting ourselves:

Impulsive or Self-Damaging Behaviors + Suicidal Behavior or Self Injury:

I'm combining these two because my points kept blending together, so bear with me lol.

Aventurine is known for being incredibly reckless and putting himself in the path of danger over and over again. When discussing how he tricked Sunday with the Cornerstones, Future Aventurine asks:

I want to exaggerate how crazy it is (i can say that i'm also a bpd baddie) that he smashed his Cornerstone. I don't think a Stoneheart has ever done that before. Their stone is what makes them a Stoneheart. Ratio mentions that without it, Aventurine would be back to being nobody. Remember: that's what makes him Aventurine. You know, the persona that required him to kill off his former identity? Their Cornerstones are more important than the Stonehearts’ lives, as stated multiple times. But that's just it: Aventurine doesn't GAF about his life. He doesn't mind putting his life on the line to pull off his plan because he has that deep-rooted desire to punish himself for everything he thinks was his fault. He gets called out for gambling with his life multiple times during Penacony, and while most of the time it's reduced to him just being crazy (cough, bpd) or just having a severe gambling problem. Extremely hot take, but I think he gambles literally as another way to hurt himself. I mean, look at what he says when you ask about his hobbies:

"There's no denying it, my fascination is with the game of chance... be it the exhilarating rush of triumph or the extensive emptiness that follows, both are worth savoring, time and time again."

Being impulsive and risky, betting his life over and over –  it makes him feel alive. He knows the end result will hurt, that he'll have to face that 'extensive emptiness' and the extreme guilt he feels regarding his continued good luck, but he does it anyway.

Speaking of betting, his bets are always 'all or nothing', seemingly every time. Future Aventurine calls him out on always risking everything with every gamble, asking:

"Do you truly believe the greater the risk, the greater the reward?"

Or...do you just not care what happens to you? He doesn't need to risk a lot; he's never lost. He could bet the lowest amount and still win every time, and make a lot of money depending on what everybody else bet. In fact, that would actually be a better strategy in gambling (poker/black jack specifically), because it would insinuate that he's not very confident with his hand and prompt the other players to bet higher, assuming that they'll beat him.

I imagine he gets a shred of dopamine betting everything he has knowing that he'll probably win, but hey, who knows? Then after winning and multiplying everything he has, I imagine that 'extensive emptiness' that he refers to is the feeling of 'oh good, more money. More status. More success. A reminder that no matter what I do, I'm stuck here in this role forever.'

For some reason, he also thinks that taking risks makes him appear more confident and secure. He makes a show of always keeping up the big bets and he boasts about how successful he is, while clutching his hand behind his back thinking 'oh god, is this it? will I finally lose this time?' He brings this up when he's speaking with himself and he says, 'How could a weak person take such daring risks?"

Oh, the delicious irony.

That raises the question, though: if he wants to die so badly, why hasn't he yet? It's not like he had an easy life. He fought very hard to stay alive, so why does he act so recklessly now?

I think at his core, he's scared. Dying is scary. His family is there in the afterlife; would they be disappointed in the person he’s become? At the same time, being alive is exhausting. The constant emotional pain this guy probably deals with every day? It's gotta be heavy.

His behaviors around suicide remind of a classic passively suicidal person with BPD: maybe they don't necessarily want to die, but they're tired. They don't have an active plan, but If something is going to kill them, they're not going to move out of the way.

So, carrying out his Penacony plan makes sense. Of course he’s not completely sure what will happen when Acheron kills him, but because he doesn’t have anything to live for, he’s fine gambling with his life. He makes a show of finally throwing out every last chip, too, no longer clutching them under the table in fear. He was fine with smashing the Aventurine stone because it's not like he was planning on using it after his final show; the little bit of power it had left in it was more than enough.

That being said, we do have to address this little number:

Aventurine attempted several times in Penacony, he admits it flat out. The writers even went sofar as to bold this line specifically! I think this does also go hand-in-hand with him being passively suicidal, since he's pretty sure he'll live when he attempts in the dream, but he's gonna try it SEVERAL times just to be sure. Mentally healthy people wouldn't try it... once, Aventurine!

As if we needed more evidence that Aventurine constantly puts himself in danger, you know I HAVE to mention...the light cone:

n case you haven't read the description for this light cone, let me share it with you:

"You don't believe me?"He (Aventurine) provocatively looks at the man (Ratio) before him, then draws out a revolver, empties its cylinder, and leaves a single shot in the chamber.

"Seems like I'll need to get you up to speed on how I do things if our cooperation were to remain amicable."He pushes the gun into his opponent's hand, spins the cylinder, and points the barrel to his own chest.

He pulls the trigger repeatedly, and the smile on his face remains the same after three empty clicks."Life is a grand gamble, and I'll always be the final victor."

Now what the HELL is this? Mind you, this is the first time Ratio has met this man!!! Imagine you meet your new mission partner for the first time and he puts a revolver in your hand and fires it thrice, then leaves. WHO does that? (...a baddie, perhaps!)

I don't think it's a secret to anybody who has spent a reasonable amount of time around Aventurine that there's something off about him, and that there's a really deep sadness running through him. There's some instances where other characters mention his passive desire to die – A few quick examples I can think of:

The instance in Story IV with Opal:

"Maybe luck won't be on your side this time, and the bill for all your past good fortune will come due [...] But isn't that what you've been longing for?"

Opal implies Aventurine wants to fail on Penacony, which, as we've discussed, is an accurate assumption. Jade says something similar after Aventurine's stunt: when Topaz says the light in his stone went out, Jade replies by saying "he got what he wanted."

Also, I’d like to point out that Ratio must have been anticipating that Aventurine would do something rash, since he wrote that note (doctor's advice) long before he started grilling him after the meeting with Sunday.

It's also worth noting the nod to T.S Eliot's "The Waste Land" (a very long poem about life and death). You get the achievement Sibyl, What Do You Want? after playing through the past of Kakavasha's life, and once you defeat boss Aventurine, you get the achievement She Replied, I Want to Die. I don't think that one needs an explanation, but boy does it hurt! (There's other, smaller nods to him being suicidal, like the Waiting for Godot achievement – Google the story if you're unfamiliar. Not as relevant, but I must mention it bc it makes my english major brain go brrrrr)

Also, overspending/gambling/being loose with money is a very common vice for borderlines to indulge in and harm themselves with. It's also implied that he drinks a decent amount. I counted 6 bottles of SoulGlad in his hotel room just from the angles I could see, and he's shown to be passed out at the bar when Ratio goes to get him before they go on their little date-I mean, mission. Aventurine says 'he must have drank too much', and whether or not that was true is irrelevant since it was a believable enough claim that Ratio bought it.

Borderlines are (usually) self-destructive in some capacity, and while some very annoying people assume it's for attention, it's so much more common for it to be because our inner emotions are just so out of whack. Sometimes, matching the inner pain with outer pain is a way to cope. They might also do it to try and combat-

Constant Feelings of Worthlessness or Sadness:

Probably the most nagging, prevalent feeling Aventurine deals with is the constant feeling of worthlessness. One thing about this man? He hates himself. Like, really hates himself. Take a look at the missions during his maze in Penacony. This one is one of my favorites:

It doesn't get much more on-the-nose than him calling himself a selfish, useless loser. He gets stuck on that word, in particular. Loser.

Aventurine, at his core, views himself as a massive loser. Is that ironic because of how much he wins? Not really. Money and materials are just part of the Aventurine persona. He's 'rich' in stuff, but he's not rich in what he actually wants. I think it's obvious that if he had the option to quadruple his wealth or see his sister again just one more time, we all know what he'd be picking.

The only thing he wants is connection – connection with his mother, his father, his sister, anybody at this point – but he can't have it. His family has been dead for a long while, and as I discussed before, his fear of abandonment and his luck scare him away from forming any other relationships. 

This luck, this destiny to be blessed, leads him to reflect on his life a lot and wonder what the hell the point is. He treats himself like some sort of walking curse, because he's convinced that his luck is bound to hurt other people. Every time he wins, somebody else loses. The luck that keeps him safe destroys everybody else around him. As Future Aventurine puts it:

His luck is "built on the pain of someone" else. This perpetuates the constant feeling of guilt, which in turn, makes him feel worthless. Why is it him that's spared every time?

Then, right before you start his boss fight, Aventurine says,

"The architect's flawed stone, of no value at all."

Some people speculate he's talking to the MC when he says this, but I can't help but assume that he's referring to himself. Even if it was directed at the MC, so much of what Aventurine says in his bluffs and boasts are just digs at himself. He's sort of an expert at hating himself, and what do people who hate themselves do if not project? Especially when you consider the fact that aventurine is actually a really cheap, undesired stone. It's like $3 a caret and mostly only used to rip people off and pose as jade. I really don't think it's a coincidence that his character is based around a stone that is, essentially, worthless.

The way that Aventurine is also prone to giving people ridiculous amounts of money/gifts can be read as a frantic effort to keep relationships going and prevent people from leaving him (relating to my points on both his feelings of worthless and his fear of abandonment). He has a skewed view on relationships, since the only value that's ever been associated with him is monetary value and that of his 'luck', which in every context is spoken of as an asset to benefit people he cares about. His sister told him that his luck was 'the most precious wealth' of the Avgins and Jade sees him as an investment that can bring her more wealth because of his luck, but he views it as a massive burden that ends up wrecking everybody around him. So how does he prove to other people that someone as worthless as him should be allowed a seat at the table? Deep down, he thinks that he's still worth 60 red copper pieces, and he's desperate to show other people that he's worth more than that now – even though he doesn't believe it at his core. With all the money he wins now, he can throw it at people and say 'look, look how much money I'm worth now, you want me around because I can buy you anything you want, that's a useful quality in a friend!'

(I did use the 'seat at the table line' as a nod to what his slave master said to him when they were discussing his worth: "Don't forget your place, slave. You're not qualified to be at the table." Which is, painfully, what Aventurine says when you open up chests! He scoffs and says that "it's hardly enough for a seat at the table." :’) )

There is also, of course, Aventurine's overarching struggle with finding purpose in his life. We see a lot of his existentialism during his trauma maze, but at the end of his trauma maze, Future Aventurine finally stops ripping Aventurine a new one and is vulnerable for a second, saying he doesn't understand what he's ever done wrong to have suffered as much as he has.

Then, when he's in the Nihility and he's speaking to Acheron, making the decision on whether or not he even wants to keep going, he asks her:

As I said, he has this conversation with himself in the maze as well, but here he's actually being vulnerable and speaking to somebody else about it: what's the point in being alive if we're just born to suffer? If nothing else, this solidifies the emotional struggle that Aventurine is constantly having. I also think it furthers the idea that he has this nagging sort of emptiness inside of him which is another BPD trait: the feeling that you're empty at your core, and you're constantly trying to fill it with things (friends, money, substances, whatever) but nothing ever works. You worry if anything will ever make you feel 'whole' again, and pair with the the identity disturbance? You're left with a constant feeling of despair.

Other Points:

These are a few other random thoughts I have, inspired by in-game moments but I'm taking them for my own evil fiendish BPD narrative. Take them with a grain of salt.

I think the stigma he gets around 'being crazy' is really BPD-coded. Separate from the ridiculous discrimination he gets for being an Avgin where people assume he's a liar and wolf in sheep's clothing (which can this man catch a SINGLE break jfc), he also has this reputation of being crazy, insane, manipulative, cunning, and someone you want to avoid, which is more rooted in his reckless gambling habit and status with the IPC. Living with this reputation of being insane and unstable for...lowkey no reason at all? Very BPD coded. I think Aventurine leans into that stigma to keep people a certain distance away, but it also just ends up making him hate himself even more.

Also, his entire mantra is "all or nothing", which always rang my BPD bells as well. There's not a lot of gray area with him, which is a key trait in borderlines as we often display very black-and-white thought patterns.

In Conclusion:

I think Aventurine is a borderline princess <3

No but actually though, Aventurine is extremely smart, witty, funny, generous, and very kind-hearted, and he also happens to have a lot of BPD symptoms :^) I don't think it does any harm to view him as BPD-coded; in fact, I think it's great to associate positive, fan-favorite characters like this with BPD because it helps to humanize us. Borderlines are not violent, crazy maniacs, they're people who have been severely traumatized and developed some unhealthy habits because of it. They deserve love, respect, understanding, and communication, just as everybody else does.

If you actually made it this far, thank you for reading! I hope I was able to shed some light on Aventurine and his Symptoms. And, as I do in all of my BPD posts, here’s your reminder to kiss the borderline baddies in your life and tell them they’re important to you :^) Living with BPD is exhausting and I know I speak for all of us when I say that. We try so hard every day to stay positive and regulated, and though rewarding, it's exhausting and very hard work. Nothing makes us smile more than some recognition that we're trying our best !!

Till next time xoxo (and shout out to @roxirinart for helping me edit this monstrosity mwahhh mwah)

[vlrghoes]

What Once Was | Chapter One

author’s note: I edited and proof read this after coming back from the club so if you see something wrong don’t be afraid to point it out as I’m quite friendly anyway!

I still don’t know if I like this chapter but overall I’m just shy about sharing my work because I’m hyper judgmental of my own work but I still wanted to share this with you guys anyway.

The chapters after this will be set a few years after this (which will be clarified in the chapters)

I’m English so if anything is wrong in terms of America and the health practices please forgive me!

I’m literally yapping now but I do want to say that I can’t promise chapter two will come in under 2 weeks as I’ve just finished my law degree and landed my dream job (not related to my degree) and I start training next Sunday and it’s for 5 weeks, really intense and with exams almost every day and if I mess up I lose my job. (Not sure if it’s obvious what my job is but anyways.) Also it’s my birthday on Wednesday and I’m celebrating Thursday so less time to write!

cw/tw: death, pregnancy complications, heavy angst, references to mental health and body dysmorphia/body image issues

word count: 4370 (I never usually write more than 2k so this is weird for me)

tag list (ask to be added): @trippinsorrows @cyberdejos2 @maeb99 @southerngirl41 @callmekayd @trentybenty @tian-monique @rose-bliss (if your name isn’t in grey, it’s not letting me tag you but I’ll try in the comment section)

masterlist

“You’re choosing that stupid title over your family again.” Ayanna’s voice cracked, the finality of her words hanging in the air as Joe stood frozen, his guilt palpable and his resolve wavering. She had spent all day running around the house and decorating for their special day. She spent hours preparing a nice steak dinner for the two of them, however it had been left untouched, the wait quelling her appetite as she now only felt sick. The dress she picked out now felt too revealing, no longer complimenting her body. Suddenly it clung to all the wrong parts and accentuated her weight gain, making her feel like a whale instead. The candles in the house had melted to the point where the fire had flickered out and the playlist she had queued just sounded like white noise at this point. Nothing matters anymore because Joe is late, late home once again and Ayanna is reaching breaking point. She spent hours waiting for him after she prepared their dinner, but all the effort didn’t matter anymore because instead of romance, the air was filled with tension and dread. “You know they’re due any day now, Joe how could you do this to me, to us. How can you still be wrestling so soon to my due date?” She said, her voice filled with emotion as she tried to steady herself. She didn’t want to cry, she had cried so much this entire pregnancy and she felt miserable. Instead of having that pregnancy glow like Rihanna, she had the life sucked out of her and she just felt lifeless.

“Look baby, I'm sorry.” Joe began, trying to figure out mentally how to get himself out of the trouble he was in. It wasn’t his fault, the media day for Wrestlemania was meant to finish much earlier but they took longer to set up, in turn making Joe’s interview (which was last) late. He had intended to be home earlier but it just seemed like the universe had other plans.

“Don’t even bother” Ayanna sighed, playing with the ring on her finger which now felt like it weighed a tonne. When they first got together, he gave it to her as a promise he’d marry her and whilst he did deliver on that promise, since getting pregnant and no longer being able to join him on the road she wondered if it was worth it sometimes. It’s not that she didn’t love Joe, hell sometimes she thinks she loves him too much. However she now isn’t sure if he loved her more than that title. He used to be so romantic; he’d bring her flowers every single day no matter what, he’d take her on dates, even small ones that weren't as lavish and she loved it. But the more he climbed up the ranks of WWE, the less the romance was there. Then shortly after he became champion everything stopped. Their marriage hit the rocks as he was never home and he started to miss things such as birthdays and christmases, so to save their marriage Ayanna gave up everything and joined him on the road. It was all going great until her later stages of pregnancy which stopped her from travelling with him but the most important thing for Ayanna was that he never missed an anniversary.

Well that was until now.

“Do you even know what day it is?” Ayanna asked, her voice quiet as she watched his mind tick, the cogwheels visabilly spinning with his face scrunched up in confusion, dull eyes squinting until it all finally clicks and he looks at her horrified. “You know, as bad as you’ve been lately, I always used to say ‘at least he’d always remembered our anniversary’ but it seems I can’t even say that anymore.” She spits, her heart breaking as the words leave her mouth.

“Yana” he started, feeling dizzy as he watched her flinch, a look almost of disgust flashing within her eyes. The nickname didn’t bring the butterflies it used to bring anymore, instead it forced a swell of emotion that made her feel like she could spew her guts any second. She used to look at him in adoration, but as the years passed the glimmer in her eyes decreased daily until they were fully extinguished. “Baby things are going to change after wrestlemania, I promise. Just one more match, after this I promise I’ll ask Vince again for some time off, I’m sure he’ll give it to me this time.”

The both of them knew that he was telling her what he wanted her to hear, the same conversation being repeated so many times to the point where they felt like they were in limbo. The last time Joe had asked, Vince told him he couldn’t have time off as he was their top star and Joe simply didn’t ask again. He always seemed to lack a backbone in situations that require him having one, but is happy to have a backbone and be stubborn when he doesn't need to be. Ayanna was exhausted, carrying one baby is hard enough but of course Joe carried the twin gene so she was carrying two instead and it felt like they were draining the life from her body. “I just want you to be present Joe, I feel like a single mother despite being married.” She pleaded, her voice filled with desperation. No one ever mentioned how lonely pregnancy is. She had lost many friends as she couldn’t go out to the club or drink anymore which meant that she spent days on end staring at the four walls of her bedroom watching the time pass as she waited up for Joe to come home. She sighed, tears threatening to well in her eyes which made her mentally curse. Stupid baby hormones. “You made the same promise last time, I don’t think you understand that one day I may not be here. You’ve missed so much already and you will never get this time back.”

She waited for Joe to say something, anything that could save the situation and at some points she felt like he was. But he’d then swallow the words back with a bitter taste and instead just looked at her in defeat. Nothing could save Ayanna for the despair she felt and she felt stupid even having this conversation with him. Instead, she gives him one more look over, a silent plea to say something or do something but the window of time closes as soon as she opens and she ends up turning on her feet and going to bed. She kept her room door ajar, hoping he’d come and knock, give her the tight hugs he used to give her and shower her in kisses and apologies but it never happens.

Joseph himself didn’t know what to do. They had the fairytale romance all their friends envied when they were younger, he was the promising D1 football player and she was a shoe-in to be a future Dallas Cowboys cheerleader. They looked good together and spent years in their honeymoon phase, yet somehow as they grew older the fairytale had started to wear off. He looked around the room with a frown, his stomach twisting and his heart aching as he realised exactly how much effort she had put in for their anniversary dinner and in that moment he felt like a horrible person. He knew he needed to pack as he was leaving at 5AM to get a jet for Wrestlemania but a large part of him wanted to go and fix the situation. But he knew nothing could ever fix it. They promised each other that they’d never go to bed without resolving an argument but that promise got broken several times to the point of which it no longer had any weight. So instead, Joe went into the walk-in closet and packed his things, believing that there’s nothing he could do to fix the situation.

That night, for the first time in their marriage the couple slept in separate rooms. Joe in the guest room tossing and turning in his own guilt, whilst Ayanna tried her hardest to muffle her sobs in the pillow. Her tears soaked the case through and her heart shattered in the pieces.

The next morning, Ayanna woke with the worst headache. Her head was pounding so intensely it hurt to open her eyes, however she put it down to the fact she spent all night crying and didn’t sleep. She called out for Joe, hoping he’d be home still so they could make up after their argument and wish him luck tonight as no matter what she loved him and didn’t want to continue on with another argument. But as she made it to the guest room, she realised it was too late and he was already gone. Her heart splintered like fragile glass, and she wept until the well of her tears ran dry, leaving her hollow and desolate.

“Fix your face uce.” His cousin Joshua says with a nudge. Joe having a face like a slapped ass and a snappy attitude had become too common these days and the twins, Joe’s only confidants, knew exactly what was going on. They’d grown up with Joe and practically spent their whole lives with Ayanna through her association with Joe, meaning they had been privy to almost all of the couple’s relationship issues.

“He’s right, every day you walk around here with the face you used to have when my dad used to whoop us all for breaking the window with the football.” Jonathon adds on, a small chuckle escaping from his twin brother as the memory of that day flashes through him. The twins and Joseph had grown up together due to their parents living next door to one another. Rikishi, the twin’s father and Joe’s uncle would say the twins were a bad influence. However everyone who knew them knew that it was actually Joe, he always managed to get away from it all by snitching on the boys before they could save themselves. Which is what led to all of them getting chased with a broom stick as children after Joseph broke the window as they were all playing football, but instead of admitting it he blamed the twins whilst the twins blamed him so the punishment was collective.

“Are you fighting with Yana again?” Joshua asks, earning him a dirty look from both his twin brother and Joseph as the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. The two of them somehow manage to fight more than Joshua and his baby mother, and the pair of them were never even together, just a stupid one night stand.

The pair wait for Joseph to say something but it becomes more and more obvious that he has nothing to say, but the situation is clearly bothering him. Jonathan, the self-labelled “mature” one out of the twins, felt it was best to offer some advice, even if Joe didn’t ask. “Man, I don’t know what’s going on but I know you two have been together since you were both thirteen, whatever it is you’ll make it through it. You guys have always found a way.” The advice, albeit sweet, doesn't really make a difference for Joe. But thankfully he gets called for his press conference anyway so he doesn’t have to engage in the conversation further and he shifts from vulnerable ‘Joe’ to the formidable ‘Roman,’ like a Jekyll turning into Hyde, shedding his worries and fears to become the stoic, unyielding figure everyone dreads.

Joe never really cared for press conferences, however since he was the face of the company he was obligated to fulfil every duty in his contract. He was always used to giving the cookie cutter answers to the usual questions like “what are your expectations tonight?” and “how do you feel about your opponent?” However, he gets caught off guard when someone in the crowd asks "with the demands of your career, how do you balance your professional and personal life, especially with your wife expecting?" The question then places a pang of guilt in his stomach once more as he’s forced to remember their argument from last night. He really wanted to speak to her before he left but he didn’t want to wake her up and his flight was too early for him to stay. He took a thought and tried to compose an appropriate answer before taking a small breath.

“It’s a challenge, no doubt.” He began, slightly sounding defensive whilst making sure to try and make eye contact with the journalist in the crowd to make sure he appeared engaged in the topic. “But I’ve always believed that if you’re committed to something, you find a way to make it work. My family understands what this career means to me, and I make sure to be there for them as much as I can. After tonight, I’m looking forward to some quality time with them.” The words feeling hollow knowing his home life isn’t in a good place.

At home, Ayanna rubs her temples trying to quell the headache that has seemed to intensify from earlier on. She sits on the sofa, her head spinning from the pain when a sharp, twisting pain in her abdomen causes her to shift positions. “It can't be.” she mumbles, it was too early. The twins were not meant to be due yet, she had an entire plan for Joe’s mother to come down and stay in the guest room and help her for the last week of her pregnancy up until the babies hit six months, this can’t be happening. Her phone lay on the coffee table, just out of reach. She stared at it, debating whether to call Joseph or not. But he was probably in the middle of his press conference. She didn’t want to worry him—she could handle this.

She bided her time, until the pain suddenly intensified, radiating from her abdomen up to her chest. Ayanna’s breath hitched, panic creeping in as she realised something was seriously wrong. She forced herself to stand, but her legs buckled beneath her. The room spun, and she fell back onto the couch, gasping for air. She gave in and phoned Joe first, his phone going straight to voicemail as she thought before hanging up, her hands trembling as she dialled 911.“Please” she began with a gasp, struggling to even breathe, “I think something’s wrong I'm pregnant, and I—” Her voice broke off as another wave of pain hit her, harder this time as she screamed, the sound of her pained yells bouncing off the walls.

Joe, pleased with his answer to the first question, felt like he was in the clear and that would be it for the interview but then another question hit him. "There have been rumours that you were considering taking some time off after this match. Can you confirm or deny that?" The question made him feel hot under the collar, he didn’t want to give a definitive answer as Vince had already turned down his request and he didn’t want to put himself in a position that gets him in trouble. He hated it about himself and in a way he also hated Vince for putting him in this situation, however deep down he knew that he was at fault. No matter what, he was a coward and tried to avoid rocking the boat at work but all that has done is cause problems in his marriage.

He once again flashes that million dollar smile that he knew the ladies loved the most before positioning his answer. “Right now, I’m focused on tonight. Whatever comes after, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. I’ve heard the rumours, but my priority is to go out there, put on a hell of a show, and take care of business. The rest will fall into place." He was cool and composed, everything a champion should be, however, the answer in itself was very evasive. It was as though he had mastered the art of saying much while revealing nothing, leaving everyone guessing what truly lay beneath.

Ayanna’s vision blurred as she tried to focus on the operator’s voice. “Stay with me, ma’am, help is on the way,” the voice said, but Ayanna could barely hear it over the pounding in her head. She doubled over in pain, clutching her stomach as the baby kicked wildly inside her. Her thoughts were a jumble of fear and regret. She should have told Joseph—should have insisted he stay home. But it was too late now. The darkness at the edges of her vision crept closer, and she knew she was running out of time

Joe looked at the crowd, wanting to go backstage and get ready for his match, a sigh of relief leaving his body as he’s told this is the last question of the conference. "Any plans to celebrate after the match, or will you be rushing home to be with your family?”

Joe smiled, the question feeling so bittersweet as he’d love to have Ayanna in the crowd like she usually is tonight, but that isn’t the case. "We’ll see how the night goes. My family’s always been my anchor, so I’ll be getting back to them as soon as I can. But first, I’ve got to take care of business in that ring."The reporters nodded, satisfied with his answer. Joseph glanced at the time—just a few more minutes, and he could get back to his routine. But he had no idea that his world was about to shatter.

Ayanna’s strength was fading fast. She clutched her phone, the operator’s voice a distant echo in her ears. “Hold on, ma’am, the paramedics are almost there,” but Ayanna’s world was already slipping away.

The last thing she felt was the sharp pain in her head, then—darkness.

The crowd was electric as Joe stepped into the ring, his face stoic as he played with his wrists to loosen them up. The glamour and feel of Wrestlemania never gets old, but he stayed focused, his mind locked in on the match and his eyes focused on his opponent. He couldn’t afford any distractions - not tonight.

The bell rang, and he moved with precision, every punch, every kick calculated. He could feel the weight of the championship on his shoulders, the expectations of the fans, the promise he had made to himself to be the best. Minutes felt like seconds as the match intensified, the crowd on their feet, chanting his name. With a final, devastating move, Joseph pinned his opponent to the mat. The referee’s hand slapped the canvas—one, two, three.

The crowd booed as Joseph was declared the winner, his arm raised in victory, gutted that their golden boy Cody Rhodes had lost the title. The championship belt was handed to him, and he held it high, basking in the glory of the moment. For a few seconds, everything was perfect. But beneath the cheers and jeers, he felt an uneasy feeling run through him, it was almost as if his body was trying to warn him that this victory came at a price—one that would haunt him long after the spotlight dimmed.

After the match he walked backstage, sweat dripping down his face but a victorious smile plastered on his lips. Fellow wrestlers patted him on the back, congratulating him on another win, another title defence. He had done it again—proven why he was the best. But it didn’t feel the same without Ayanna there to give him a kiss and tell him how proud she was of him. He longed to have her sweet floral scent dancing though his nose, he simply missed her and he was going to make it his mission to call her immediately and apologise and make it up to her. In fact, he was going to ask Vince again for time off or just go to Hunter and get him to explain to Vince.

As he headed toward his locker room, he saw Vince stood them with a solemn expression. His heart dropped, usually if Vince looks at you like that you’ve done a terrible job and you’re about to be pulled off TV. “Joe, we need to talk,” he said, his voice tight with urgency.”

Joseph frowned, still riding the high of his victory. “What’s up, Vince? I’ve got some celebrating to do and I need to call my wife.”

Vince hesitated, his face pale. “Joe, it’s Ayanna… She had a stroke during labour. She had tried to call you as she was going into labour but you were in the press conference.”

The words were like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him. “What?” he whispered, his heart plummeting. “No… no, that can’t be right.” His mind scrambled to reject what he’d just heard, clinging to disbelief as though it could keep the truth at bay.

Vince’s eyes were filled with sorrow as he continued, “I haven’t heard anything else, however I would suggest that you take the jet and go to the hospital now. We will cover you in the post match press conference.” The championship belt slipped from Joseph’s grasp, hitting the floor with a dull thud. The noise of the backstage area faded into nothingness as Joseph stood frozen, disbelief and horror washing over him.

Joseph’s heart pounds as he bursts through the hospital doors, the sounds of WrestleMania’s victory still ringing in his ears. But as he’s confronted by the white walls of the ICU, his triumph feels meaningless, distant. Joseph’s hands trembled as he pushed through the hospital doors, his mind a whirl of fear and denial. He moved as if in a trance, barely registering the people around him as he demanded to be taken to Ayanna.

“Where’s Ayanna? Where are my kids?” he demands, his voice edged with panic.

The receptionist’s eyes flickered with sorrow, looking around in desperation as she did not want to be the one to be here when the news was broken to him. Luckily for her, the doctor steps forward. “Mr. Anoa’i, I’m so sorry. Your wife suffered a massive stroke shortly after going into labour. By the time she got here, there was nothing we could do to reverse the damage. Her brain activity ceased before we could save her.”

Joseph’s breath catches, his world starting to crumble. “What… what do you mean? Where is she? Can I see her?” His voice wavered, a desperate plea for a reality that was slipping through his fingers.

The doctor hesitates, his tone measured but heavy. “We had to make a decision quickly, Mr. Anoa’i. We kept her on life support long enough to deliver the twins via emergency C-section. It was the only way to save their lives.”

For a moment, Joseph just stares, unable to comprehend the words. “You… you kept her alive just to deliver the babies?” His voice is raw with disbelief and rising fury. He couldn’t believe what was being said to him, Ayanna being reduced to a baby making machine made him feel beyond sick. They could’ve had another baby, but he could never have another Ayanna. “She wasn’t just some fucking incubator! She was my wife! She is my wife, why didn’t you save her?!”

The doctor’s eyes hold steady, though full of sympathy. “She made that decision herself. Your wife signed an advanced directive, instructing us to prioritise the babies if anything went wrong. She knew the risks and chose this course.”

The words hit Joseph like a sledgehammer. Ayanna had known this could happen and made a decision without him—a decision that had ripped her from his life. Anger surged and then ebbed away, leaving a hollow ache where it had been. He had spent his life with her, and now, learning to live without her seemed an insurmountable challenge, a cruel twist of fate.

“Where are they?” he finally whispers, his voice barely audible, eyes vacant.

One of the nurses gently guides him to the room where the newborns lie in their incubators. They’re tiny, fragile, and perfect. But as Joseph looks at them, he’s overwhelmed not with the joy he expected but with a deep, unsettling mix of sorrow and resentment. They’re here, alive and breathing, but Ayanna is gone. She sacrificed herself for them, and Joseph can’t help but feel a stab of resentment toward these tiny beings who cost him everything. He stands over the incubators, his hands shaking as he touches the glass. The twins stir slightly, their small cries echoing in the sterile room, but all Joseph feels is an unbearable, suffocating grief—and an anger he can’t reconcile. Whilst he was angry at the world, he was also mad at himself. What sick bastard resents an innocent child? He thought, trying to force the feeling out of his heart, but it was no use. He just couldn't stop himself being filled with disgust when he looked at them, especially as they both look exactly like her. It felt like some cruel punishment from the universe for his wrongdoing.

Finally, he forces himself to pick up one of the babies, holding the child close to his chest. The warmth of his newborn is supposed to bring him comfort, but instead, it feels like a weight pressing down on him, reminding him of what he’s lost. Tears blur his vision as he collapses into a nearby chair, the sound of the twins’ cries filling his ears. But instead of the joy and love he once imagined, all Joseph can feel is a hollow emptiness and a dark, creeping resentment that only deepens his guilt. The nurse gently touched his shoulder, but Joseph barely noticed. He sank into a chair, the twins still wailing in his arms, as tears streamed down his face. The world had stopped making sense. He had won the match, but in doing so, had lost everything that truly mattered, as if triumph had come at the cost of his very soul.