#I have another example but I’m not sharing that one

[this-is-exorsexism]

I am a nonbinary, androgynous presenting person who uses they/them pronouns. I apologize for this being so long, a lot of context was needed!

I am also a college student, set to graduate this December (hooray!)

My favorite story is my experience with a French Language Professor, an older woman in her 60s or 70s.

This professor, you see, was quite invested in stereotypes of anything you can think of: they painted her perception of the world. This important for later.

She would inject gendered language into everything she could. She would address everyone by either masculine or feminine terms or describe them with masculine or feminine adjectives in both French and English. In fact, when she handed out worksheets for us to do, she would say “boys do the odds, and girls do the evens”, which was weird because we were all adults; A few of my classmates were old enough to be my parents. Being a bit of a rebel, I would just pick which questions to do arbitrarily, and if she called on me to share answers with the class and it was one I didn’t do, I would just say I didn’t do that one, which always obviously annoyed her.

Keep in mind, I told her on the first day of class that I used they/them pronouns and didn’t like feminine terms being used on me, such as ma’am or miss. While she initially seemed amicable about it, she forever insisted on misgendering me and using the wrong words. I would gently remind her, at first, before it began to become obvious that it was intentional, so my reminders became more firm and sometimes even a bit disruptive, if she were lecturing and used me as an example and said the wrong thing.

The problem was, she told me, was that French doesn’t have a gender neutral pronoun, which is why she called me elle/sa (She/Her in French), so I then said if that’s the case, then just use il/sa (il means he, they, or it depending on the context) for me because it would be more accurate than elle. She ignored me. I went home and did my research. Turns out, French does have a gender neutral pronoun: iel (or yiel, I forget, but it’s pronounced like yell) and it’s pretty commonly used. I told her the next day about my discovery and she flat out refused to use it for me because it wasn’t officially a part of the language. See, in France, they have a thing called “the Council” and it’s literally a group of people who decide what words are or aren’t going to be accepted into the official French language. It’s hilarious because its purpose is to keep French “pure” and not letting its speakers borrow from other languages, which is so hilarious because ironically, the people who complain about languages borrowing from one another are the same people who tweet about “le wokisme” (I’m not joking that’s a real word).

So then, we come to the climax of this story of my war of attrition in the name of being respected. One day, I get to class early, as I often did because her classroom was on the 3rd floor of the building and I had lots of narrow stairs to climb. The only other person in the room was myself and my professor. We say good morning and sit in silence as we wait for class to start. Suddenly, she breaks the silence and asks me about my “whole nonbinary thing”, saying she didn’t really understand. I was more than happy to explain it to her because I thought she was finally trying to learn about it so she could start being respectful to me.

Note: I endured two whole semesters with this woman. At the time, a language class was required for my major in order to graduate. I have since changed my major, but it wasn’t because of this, more so because of a change in interest.

So, I finish my explanation of what it means to be nonbinary to her in as simple terms as I could, which wasn’t really necessary anyway; it’s not a difficult concept to understand.

She nods quietly and digests what I said and then says, “well, what you think doesn’t necessarily change what you are. I may not feel like wearing makeup or a dress sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a woman. You were made a woman and there’s not really any changing that.”

I was shocked and I think I said something like “that’s a very reductive way to see a person,” but ultimately, this was about when classmates arrived, who were appalled when I recounted that conversation to them later in the semester when she stepped out of the classroom.

I later dropped her class and reported her to the dean for creating a hostile learning environment. I’ve never taken another French class since and I have somewhat fallen out of love with learning the language.

this is exorsexism.

[a-chaotically-small-lunta]

You know how when drawing or maybe even writing you listen to music? And you know how sometimes when you find a new song you really like, you put it on repeat for hours? Alright…who has done these things but now when ever you hear a specific song you have the sudden urge to draw/write a specific thing? Solely because one day you were listening to one song on repeat while drawing/writing and now the two things are tied forever. For example: whenever I hear Villain’s Spooky Ska I have the urge and drive to draw Chirre, only because when I first drew them, I was listening to the song on repeat for hours. So now the two are tied together.

Anyone else have this? (Bonus points if the song and character/theme have no connection in the slightest)

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Late night parasocializing on main:

I’m not saying these situations are the same AT ALL and I know I don’t know these people AT ALL, but the Joe/Taylor situation reminds me of two friends in my work friend group who we all watched crush on each other, start dating, become a couple, etc. To the point that they became a Unit and were together for years. Then they broke up and went their separate ways (something something how evergreen our group of friends don’t think we’ll say that word again) and there was a lot of hurt and bitterness and resentment there and we all went from thinking, “obviously they are going to be a couple they’re perfect for one another,” to “wow they’re such different people I can’t imagine them being together in the first place they have zero in common” to now close to a decade later legit forgetting they ever dated because it feels like soooooo long ago and their orbits would just never cross ever again. Like, not only would they clearly never date as the people they are now, they wouldn’t even give each other a second glance. (And this is a guy who once walked around with heart eyes whenever she was around and a girl who thought he hung the moon.)

And like, a year ago we as fans were all sad for Taylor because by all accounts she’d found her person and were hard pressed to picture her with someone else who’d get her as much as he did, and now looking at it from above the trees (ahem) I can’t even ever picture them together because they just seem sooooooo different (in lifestyle, temperament, priorities, personalities, etc.) And while admittedly I could not picture her at all with Travis when the rumours first started about them dating, seeing them now they just seem to make so much sense despite the superficial differences.

Life comes at you fast etc.

[ghostboyravenight]

Reading the new checks that might come in due to the Online Safety Act in the UK and this is actually bullshit

[Image Transcript:

And how will I prove my age?

There’s a number of methods a site or app might use to ask you to confirm your age. They might do this check themselves or use another company to do the check. These methods include:

Facial age estimation – you show your face via photo or video, and technology analyses it to estimate your age. 

Open banking – you give permission for the age-check service to securely access information from your bank about whether you are over 18. The age-check service then confirms this with the site or app.

Digital identity services – these include digital identity wallets, which can securely store and share information which proves your age in a digital format.

Credit card age checks – you provide your credit card details and a payment processor checks if the card is valid. As you must be over 18 to obtain a credit card this shows you are over 18.

Email-based age estimation – you provide your email address, and technology analyses other online services where it has been used – such as banking or utility providers - to estimate your age.  

Mobile network operator age checks – you give your permission for an age-check service to confirm whether or not your mobile phone number has age filters applied to it. If there are no restrictions, this confirms you are over 18. 

Photo-ID matching – this is similar to a check when you show a document. For example, you upload an image of a document that shows your face and age, and an image of yourself at the same time – these are compared to confirm if the document is yours.

End Transcript.]

Not only is this such a fucking breach of privacy, but this is going to hurt adults in vulnerable and abusive situations. Some adults don’t have bank accounts or credit cards or even a fucking phone. I’m one of them. I could not give half of this information even if I wanted to. What the fuck is this. Fuck the UK government. This isn’t going to protect kids, this is just going to hurt adults, and I know full well when they say “sites that allow pornography” they’re going to be going after sites that have huge amounts of queer content, like tumblr and Ao3. Queer kids are gonna lose their fucking communities because of this shit. Abuse victims are going to lose online support systems because of this.

I’m genuinely fucked off about this, and worried about whether I’m going to lose every single one of my online friends. Anyone in the UK, please email your MP and sign this petition. It needs to reach 100k signatures to pass through Parliament.

I’m only hoping the backlash will be big enough for them to stop implementing these measures.

[salemlunaa]

LETS TALK ABOUT REVISION

ready to rewrite your life?

i used to talk about revision while operating from different beliefs, however i thought it would be great to talk about it now as i get so many asks about the subject.

In actuality, revision is an illusionistic concept. Why is that? because time isn’t real. You are SO powerful that you are imagining a “past” for yourself on the fly, and can sift through “memories” in a matter of seconds. But because we only live in a now moment, those memories are only made real by your awareness. If you were to take your awareness of a certain moment in time, it would cease to exist, until you are to bring it back to life by again putting your awareness on it.

How revision works: I’m going to use the words “train of thought” instead of “past” as the past is really just a train of thought you believe to have happened, all you have is now. There are infinite realities out there, you shift every second to a slightly different one following every decision you make. Let’s say Julia broke up with her boyfriend, that circumstance is being imagined by her, she has a train of thoughts (from finding problems in the relationship, to breaking up with him) which practically tell her she broke up with him.

Although, there is another version of her with another set of thoughts/ “memories” of her and her boyfriend being in a loving relationship. If she regrets the “decision” of breaking up with her man, she needs to shift her SELF to the person with the train of thoughts that tell her she IS in a relationship with her boyfriend, and because imagination is reality, that’s what will folllow.

A lot of you may use revision for one reason or another, but the main reason that so many seek revision is because they either regret doing something or are in a shitty situation. And i’m going to tell you that revision is just like anything other manifestation meaning: creation is finished. Regret is not a real feeling, it is an imagined feeling, that you generate because you are so fooled by the delusion that decisions are final. Once you see that none of this is real and the past doesn’t matter, you will remove all the regret from your mind,

And i know how regret feels, before coming to terms with who i actually was, it was a feeling that ate me up inside, it’s a horrible feeling, but it is illusionistic, it is only there to solidify the illusion that events and the physical is solid. Which they aren’t.

Please do not be fooled, the past is changeable because there is no past. All you must do is shift to the now version of you that had the desired “past” you wanted. There are people who have revised deaths, diagnoses, fucked up things they did, there’s even a girl on my page sharing a success story about her regret of moving schools, so she simply shifted to a timeline where she never moved! And i have many more dms with successes too, someone who revised their grades when they were a few days away from a parent teacher meeting telling them to repeat the year, one who revised her breakup days before prom. if they can do that why can’t you “revise”? i don’t care what it is. It. Is. Changeable. And that’s because you are everything and You are changeable so ALL is changeable.

✰✰✰✰✰

Another piece of advice is not to look outward for advice. I’m going to give you links to the only revision posts i would recommend!(one two three four five six-probably so much more amazing material, but you don’t need it, stop with the need to over consume). But other than that, a lot of “manifestation coaches” have A LOT of limiting beliefs. For example: “you have to remember that manifestation can’t overrule the law of physics and time”, “changing the past isn’t possible, but you can change how you feel about it” ew…… anyway…..

YOU are god, not them. please do not let their limitations affect you. That’s like the biblical god going to cry in a corner because Moses doubted him. Why are you letting mere humans depict what you can and can’t do? You have the authority, total authority. Which is why i don’t want you to get rattled seeing these beliefs. But wouldn’t the person who has their revised be enjoying life, instead of looking for youtube posts like a junky needing a fix??

To revise all you must do is see beyond the illusion that this life is solid. See beyond the concept that time is set in stone and that time is linear. This circumstance isn’t real, use whatever techniques you like to live from the state of the person who is in the timeline you want to be in (I personally love revising the day using SATS, inducing the void state, visualising and rampages, recently loving robotic affirmations too!)

I hate using the word “delusional” because the only thing that is delusion here is you thinking you can’t do this, but you need to be so far removed from what was, live completely and 100% in your imagination, that’s the only real thing. “But salem, what if i’m living in my head and circumstances still take their course?” If you have to ask me that you aren’t 100% living in the imaginary. And that back and forth, that pathetic attempt at serving two masters is what has you “waiting”. You cannot serve two masters, you are either in your desired timeline, or you’re the loser dealing with circumstances you don’t want, it can never be the two, you have to pick which one you want more.

Also remember that you can never be given things you don’t already have: reality is totally mental, not 50% not 99% but 100% mental, if you still operate from the person who is regretting their life, you aren’t thinking from the state of being in the timeline you wanna be in. You have to know that you have it first, before it can reflect. It will only be hard when you say it is, failure is not a real concept, it’s being imagined by you, remember that. For some of you, your circumstances will slap you right in the face and that is not failure it’s feedback, showing you that you aren’t truly thinking from that version of you.

You are the only person in your way from instantly jumping to your desired timeline. Get rid of that deep belief in time. You are the only reason you have to wake up and deal with unfavourable circumstances again. YOU are the only one that can give it to yourself. And first you have to GIVE IT TO YOURSELF, try to make that make sense. The food is right there but you choose to starve because you are so fooled by the illusion there is no food at the table.

it’s already done, there’s nothing to regret, creation is finished, the second you wanted another outcome a reality was formed. THATS how powerful you are. You are there now.

Shifting to your desired timeline is instantaneous, it will materialise when you finally see there was nothing to do to get there in the first place.

I believe in you, so so so much

©salemlunaa

[great-and-small]

Speaking of breed standards, would you be able to give me some context on what the heck is up with the German Shepherd "stack"? I see a lot of GSD owners saying it's breed standard and therefore fine, but the slant looks so extreme in some dogs that I have some skepticism about it (and also because, of course, breed standards have nothing to do with animal health).

This is a pretty hot button issue and you’re right that there is a ton of bickering back and forth about it online. I’m happy to share my thoughts, but keep in mind that as a veterinarian I am biased towards function over form. I care way more about if a dog can do the things it wants/needs to do than how it looks. I won’t get into it here but I actually have real qualms with the distinction between “working line” and “show line” in some breeds.

My quick takeaway opinion- There are several orthopedic issues in the German Shepherd dog (specifically show lines) that have likely been exacerbated if not entirely caused by breeders striving for the classic “sloped back” look that is considered breed standard.

Now that being said, it is a fact that the three point stack (how a dog is positioned when standing) greatly exaggerates the angulation of the back and hind legs. You will often see comparison images like this one that show a dog in stack versus standing square and you can clearly see the top line looks more sloped when the dog is stacked. This image is from a GSD subreddit, a pretty dog here nicely demonstrating how the stance can change the appearance of the top line.

This phenomenon is what certain hardline GSD breed standard loyalists will point to when discussing this issue. They posit that the sloped back is essentially an optical illusion caused by aesthetic posing, and therefore a German Shepherd is no more prone to orthopedic problems than any other large breed dog. This is where I disagree.

You can easily find stark examples of a poorly put together dog in any breed or mixed breed out there, so when discussing my concerns with the GSD I will only use photos of titled dogs that are accomplished within the show ring. These are not random backyard bred shepherds, but champion dogs from acclaimed lines that will almost certainly be bred to pass on their genes. When breed clubs like the AKC award these dogs as exemplars of the breed, they tacitly endorse the conformation issues I’m about to discuss. So my beef is not with German shepherds or dog breeds in general, but specifically with breed clubs that refuse to examine whether their standard harms animals. An important disclaimer, not every breed club is like this and many take health concerns extremely seriously.

Dogs have a very different limb anatomy and gait to humans and a healthy dog is meant to walk on their paw pads. The “ankle” or hock should be upright and angled as you can see here in this nice-looking champion shepherd from 1902.

German shepherds can sometimes have a problem that is colloquially called “dropped hocks” where that joint is abnormally loose and in more serious cases can even be touching the ground, which is completely abnormal and something I would consider a serious physical flaw. A dog having dropped hocks/tarsal hyperflexion like this is proven to cause medical issues for these dog, but unfortunately the sinking joints also help to give the dog that “classic” sloping look that breed clubs love.

This dog “Ch Kysarah's Pot of Gold” won best of breed at the National dog show in 2015. You can see his hock is literally flat on the ground even when not stacked

And it’s not just one dog. Here is another champion dog (Cruaghaire Catoria), who got some controversy for winning best of breed at Crufts in 2016 despite an extremely abnormal gait.

Perhaps we could excuse the low hocks when the dog is standing as being the result of the stack, but it is glaringly obvious when she moves that this is no trick of her positioning. Her entire tarsus rests on the floor as she runs and in close ups you can even see bald patches there to suggest this is a “normal” gait for her. In this video, the announcers agree that this is the ideal gait for a shepherd. If I saw this gait in a friend’s dog I’d politely express my concerns for long term mobility issues and recommend an orthopedic consultation. To see it win best of breed is galling to say the least.

And lest you think the problem has been solved, here’s another from the National Dog Show in 2023

None of these dogs could charge athletically into a field and effectively herd sheep. If we are prioritizing aesthetic over function to the degree that a dog cannot do what it was bred to do, or more importantly that it cannot do the simple things that dogs love to do, then we have veered unforgivably off course. Not to put too fine a point on it but what the fuck is the point of a breed standard if it impedes the dog’s function in any way? We have no right. German shepherds are an incredible breed of dog that have stood by us humans in some of our darkest moments; I think the breeders and kennel clubs who claim to love them the most should work harder to ensure the “champion” dogs they are producing can live long pain-free lives. If we have to adjust our notion of what the breed is “supposed” to look like then so fucking be it.

This is too long already so I’m not getting into hip dysplasia, DM, carpal laxity, elbow dysplasia or other conditions that exist in the breed. If German shepherd clubs want to distance themselves from the notion that their breed standard is causing problems with canine health then they will need to stop publicly lavishing awards on dogs with medically concerning gait issues and start focusing on breeding dogs that can run around a ring without causing even the most casual of onlookers to realize “something’s not right there”

[girlatmirror]

bend my rules | jjk

in which jeongguk jeon, the frattiest of all frat boys, has been trying to get you to go out with him since freshman year, no success. what if the events that occur in junior year change your opinion on jeongguk and you actually give him a chance?

rich! jeongguk x reader

warnings: detailed virginity loss (minors, go away!), use of yn, jk is a little dumb sometimes but he’s a sweetheart, jk is a frat boy, minor mention of SA (nothing too triggering (i hope)), i love yn, taehyung mention 🫶🏼, yn is thick asfff (#needthat), desperate jk, use of both jeongguk and jungkook (i’m an indecisive bitch sorry), he gets the girl!

another scenario with this couple ‘couple’s getaway’ !

——-

Jeongguk needs no introduction. There was not a single soul at Berkeley University that didn’t know of him. Even the freshmen got introduced to who he was on their first day. With a powerful presence, daddy’s money, and unfortunately for you, a gorgeous, gorgeous face and muscles for days, Jeongguk takes the entire world by storm. He had that something about him that makes every guy want to befriend him and makes every girl want to be with him.

He was a business administration major, now in his senior year; his goal? To take over his father’s many businesses when he graduates. He could have done that without college, but his family put a lot of importance on education.

He was simultaneously in a frat and also lived alone in a penthouse off campus. You always wondered how he was allowed to be in the frat if he wasn’t living in the fraternity itself. But he’s the king of Kappa Sigma; they couldn’t vote him out. You met Jungkook at a party thrown by a friend’s friend, who is also friends with Jungkook, during the second semester of freshman year. He approached you with charming confidence, asking for your number. You declined politely, and he has not left you alone since—following you around, asking you out, giving you gifts, inviting you to parties that you never ended up attending, asking your friends about you, pretending to share your interests to get closer to you, and so on and so forth.

The one thing that was good about freshman and sophomore year was that you had no classes with Jungkook. So the last two years, you had Jungkook-less classes, except for the ones he decided to barge into uninvited and declare his love for you. Junior year came, and with it, Jungkook decided to sign himself up for the 18th-century literature class with Professor Sullivan.

Your major was English literature.

Professor Sullivan’s class was one of your favorites—the debates, the topics, the atmosphere. Also, the fact that Professor Sullivan liked you a lot. The topic of this lesson was: the role of women in literature in the 18th century.

"Women in the 18th century played very crucial roles as empowered figures; that is a fact. Authors like Mary Wollstonecraft, for example; she challenged societal expectations and wrote incredibly critical narratives that advocated for women’s rights,” you argued with a steady voice.

From across from you, you heard a voice you dreaded. "Yn, no one can argue with you about the existence of women authors at the time, but were they really all that empowering? I mean, they pretty much all were dependent on men. For example, ‘Oroonoko,’ written by a woman, yet it represents a male hero, while the female perspective is secondary.”

“Well, Ben, if you had taken my argument or really, any historical context into consideration, you would understand that, male hero aside, a woman producing literature of any kind in that era meant that she was asserting herself in a male-dominant, or rather, in a female-submissive world, and that in itself is resistance. It embodies power. I rest my case."

Ben was about to open his mouth to argue back when the door to the lecture hall interrupted him.

"Mr. Jeon, you are half an hour late," Professor Sullivan spoke to the interrupter.

In that moment, Ben became the least of your worries, sexism and all. You felt as if your life was upside down and you couldn’t get it up. What the hell was he doing in this class? This isn’t even his thing; he will fail! He will fail miserably!

"I sincerely apologize, Professor. It won’t happen again," the deep voice apologized before stepping forward and finding a seat.

As his piercing brown eyes found yours, the usual smirk found its place on his lips, and them and their owner made their way directly towards you. He sat down with the same expression on his face. "Hey, gorgeous. Miss me over the summer?"

He put his muscular arm around your shoulder and kept his head tilted to the side to stare at you, admiring the beauty before him from head to toe. You were wearing flared jeans and a tight pink long-sleeve shirt that accentuated your generous breasts. "Cute outfit, baby. Pink is your color; I’ll make sure to buy you lingerie in that same shade."

Before you could answer, Mr. Sullivan stated: "Mr. Jeon, we were just discussing the woman’s role in 18th-century literature. I am sure Ms. Ln will fill you in on what you have missed so far, but I wish for you to pay attention to the rest of the lecture. I know Ms. Ln is much prettier than I am; nonetheless, I hope you can find it in yourself to pay more attention to me and less to her."

The whole hall broke out in laughter, amused at the professor’s wit. Jungkook just continued smirking at you, seemingly also amused at the professor, and you sat in silence for the rest of the lecture, blushing.

The lecture ended quickly after, all the students making their way out, and you would’ve done so as well, but you needed to have a little talk with the man sitting beside you first.

"What are you doing here?" you nearly hissed at Jungkook, who was still sitting, your arms crossed around your chest.

"What do you mean, baby?" he provoked. "You don’t want me here or something?"

One thing that can be said about Jungkook was that he was a very persistent man. Even after your countless rejections, he somehow managed to come back stronger, bigger, and harder to fight off.

"You know I don’t want you here! What are you even doing here in the first place, Jungkook? What do you want?" Your hands were on your full hips as you questioned him.

He looked up at you with a shimmer of amusement and a raised eyebrow, his eyes tracing every curve. "You know, Yn, you look really good from this angle."

The thought of kicking him in the head came to you, but you fought it off. "Answer my question."

"I’m not gonna answer a question you already know the answer to. You know damn well why I’m here; I want you, and I wanna see you, and I want you to finally go out with me so we can live happily ever after and put me out of my misery," he proclaimed, with the spirit of Romeo possessing him.

"You just did, though," you noted with a smirk.

"Huh?"

"You just answered a question I already know the answer to." With that, you grabbed your bag and swayed away from the man, who was too distracted watching you walk away to comprehend that you were gone.

___

On a Friday night, you had a lot you could do: read a new book, talk to your mom, whom you hadn’t seen in two months on the phone, organize a sleepover with your friends and watch a movie, finish the five essays you haven’t finished yet, go off campus and try new food, and if you don’t like it, get the food you know and like and eat it.

But in Avery’s opinion, there was nothing better to do than to go to the Kappa Sigma party. You would usually not necessarily disagree; a party is sometimes exactly what you needed, but not this Friday and not at Kappa Sigma.

"Avery, did you forget the 100 times that I have told you he is now in my 18th-century lit class? I had to see him three times this week for almost an hour each lecture. Those are three hours where I had to see him, where I had to hear him speak," you dramatically articulated. "And if you count the times that I have seen him in the halls, and the one time I saw him in the library, and the one time he came into my poetry class and sat there, watching me for 20 minutes before Professor Sinclair told him to leave, and the one time he came here to give me flowers and ask me out, that makes like a hundred thousand hours that I had to see him this week. I do not wanna go to his party!"

Your roommates all looked at you like you just fell down from an alien spaceship. Nora was the first one to react. "Your math skills are really bad, Yn."

Avery rolled her eyes. "True, but that’s besides the point; Yn, why are you whining that the hottest and richest guy at this entire university wants you and has been wanting you for the last two years? That’s a flex, girl! Now, go put on a sexy ass outfit on that sexy ass bod and let’s. go. out."

"Woooo!" you heard Sasha yell from the kitchen, making you crack a smile amid your misery.

"Alright, but next Friday, I choose what we do," you claimed, with full intention of keeping that promise.

_

You and all four of your roommates arrived at the Kappa Sigma house with outfits that nobody else could compete with. You were wearing a tight, black off-shoulder shirt and a red mini skirt that emphasized your already emphasized thickness. Topped off with soft glam makeup and black heels, you felt like a real woman.

"Welcome, ladies," the deep voice that could only belong to Taehyung greeted you. "Sasha."

"Hi, Tae," Sasha purred, her hands quickly finding his neck, leaning into a passionate kiss.

These two had been a couple for a few months now, after a whole year of being on and off. Despite the stereotypes of frat boys, Taehyung knew how to treat his girl right.

You entered the house with one friend less; Sasha disappeared with Taehyung into the chaos that is the current state of this house. Your other roommates quickly disappeared as well, much to your dismay.

Now, your goal was to socialize, maybe drink a little something, but not too much because of the essays that you would have to write the next day. Your eyes scanned the house for a familiar face, and it landed on one.

One that was looking you up and down with hunger. He signaled you to come over where he was sitting with a bunch of girls and one other guy. You shook your head no, so he came over.

"Yn! I’m glad you came, baby." He hugged you, and you only half-hugged him back. "You look gorgeous, of course."

"Thanks, Jeongguk," you said politely.

You and he had a complex relationship; the first time he saw you, he showed romantic interest in you, showering you with affection and gifts. He never stopped. You always rejected him, no exceptions, even at times where you wanted nothing more than to say yes. Yet he was always kind to you, and you were kind to him (most of the time). Your mutual friends always brought you together; it was as if you couldn’t escape one another—to his pleasure and to your dismay.

"Lemme get you something to drink," he went into the kitchen and came back with a soda can. "Here, I know you usually don’t drink, so I got you a cola; hope that’s fine."

"It is, thank you," you smiled softly and started drinking the cola. "So, you’re interested in literature this year."

You only started a conversation because you knew he would not leave your side the entire night anyway, and you would prefer it if you picked the topic of conversation instead of him.

"Hell yeah, I love me some Samuel L. Jackson," he stated, making you laugh.

"You mean Samuel Johnson, you idiot," you said, giggling as you pushed his strong arm playfully.

He watched you giggle, gazing as if you hung the stars. "Yeah, yeah, same thing, same thing." With his boyish smile, he said, "Look, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable by signing up for the same class as you. It was kinda out of pocket, even for my standards. I know the last person you wanna see is me, so if you want me to drop it, I will."

Your jaw metaphorically dropped at Jungkook’s words. Those are words that came out of Jungkook’s mouth? Does that mean that he will leave me alone completely if I wish? What does this mean?

A strange emotion settled deep inside you; you started wondering if you had done something wrong or if he perhaps found another girl he wanted to ask out even more than he wanted to ask you out.

"Jungkook, it is your right to choose whatever class you want to be in; I can’t be mad at you for that. Besides, you will learn a lot from Professor Sullivan; he’s great," you reassured him with a sweet voice.

"Yeah?" He grinned, recognizing that this was your way of saying you did not want him to leave.

"Oh yeah, he is a delightful old man. The stories he has to share are amazing. Did you even know he’s married to Professor Martinez? The reason why she hasn’t taken his last name is that he was against it, telling her, ‘Maria, if you take my name, that is erasure. Erasure of your life before my appearance, and erasure of your beautiful Mexican heritage, Maria. Do not change your name to mine; I am technically your oppressor.’ He told us that story maybe about 23 times, and he made sure to roll the r real hard," you found yourself joking with Jungkook, as your mind took you back to Avery’s earlier words.

It was not the first time that your friends said the same words to you; they always expressed their envy and their confusion about the situation with Jungkook. But you were thinking much deeper than them.

Much to everybody’s surprise, you never had a boyfriend, and you were also still a virgin. The most you did was a kiss you shared with a guy at your high school graduation, which you immediately regretted. You had high standards. For yourself, for your future, for your future husband, and for everyone you allowed to enter your life. It was not about not having options; God knows you had many. It was about knowing for sure that the man you give these things to—your trust, your dignity, your virginity, your love—would be the right one, the one that deserved it. The idea that Jungkook—the man who gave you his undivided attention for two years straight and spoiled you without being asked—was perhaps the man for you didn’t sound so unbelievable anymore.

When you were a freshman and before you met him, you heard stories about him—stories of the parties he threw, the money he had, the many girls he fucked. These stories made you cautious, even though he put in real effort to get closer to you, you were hard to impress, and it was even harder for you to get out of your shell of self-protection.

Jungkook howled with laughter at the things you told him about your professor; either he found them genuinely amusing, or he was just laughing because the stories came out of your mouth.

“So, what will you do?” he asked once the laughter died down a bit.

You tilted your head innocently. “What do you mean?”

He looked at you with such tenderness, your innocent eyes captivating him.

“When we get married, will you keep your name, or will you take mine?” he posed the question so casually, yet so longingly.

You shrugged your shoulders elegantly, taking a small sip from your forgotten cola. “I will probably take yours.”

The words you said that Friday night made Jeon Jungkook the happiest man on planet Earth, and probably all the other planets in the universe.

_

“So, you little minx sat down and talked to Jungkook basically the entire fucking party, and you didn’t even get up once? You didn’t even complain about it!” Avery was almost lost for words; key word, almost.

“What’s the big deal? We talked, so what?” you shrugged it off.

“Everybody’s talking about it, you know. They think you might finally give the guy a chance,” Nora chimed in. “I always knew you would eventually cave; I mean, with those arms and that black card, I would’ve folded a long time ago. There’s a rumor he has a seven-inch dick, by the way.”

Just as you were about to say something, Sasha entered the living room, having just finished talking to Taehyung on the phone. “What are you girlies talking about?”

Avery answered, “Oh, just about Yn and Jungkook getting married and having six kids.”

You threw a pillow at her head in response, and Sasha smirked at the mention of her boyfriend’s buddy. “Yeah, I heard what happened. Tae told me Jungkook went crazy after talking to you, saying that this will be the year that he will claim you as his and that there’s not a single person that can take away the happiness that he’s experiencing at the moment. He literally can’t stop talking about you.”

You suppressed your smile successfully and shrugged your shoulders again. “I don’t see why it’s a big deal. I mean, you all left me lonely at that party, and he was the first familiar face I saw, sooo… I had nothing better to do.”

“God, you’re such an odd person. The guy wants you so bad, just give him a chance. You think it’s not noticeable that you are also kinda into him, but if you weren’t, you would’ve blocked that guy a long time ago, and you would’ve gone crazy on his ass with all the things he does to get your attention, but you don’t,” Tanya argued with a sly smirk on her face. “You may be mysterious to other people, but you can’t fool your best friends, who have been living with you for two years.”

Avery and Nora both agreed with Tanya’s words by nodding their heads crazily, and Sasha said a loud ‘true’ from the kitchen across the living room, where she was preparing five hot chocolates for you.

“I do go crazy; I always go crazy; I always tell him off. You all have personally experienced me going off on him for things he did and said,” you defended yourself the best you could, before taking the hot chocolate out of Sasha’s hands with a small ‘thank you, S.’

“Yeah, but it’s not really a ‘fuck off, I don’t ever wanna see you or hear you again’ type of ‘going off’; it’s more like a ‘ugh, Jungkook, I can’t believe you did this again. Please do it again’ type of thing,” Avery mocked with a high-pitched voice and fluttering eyelashes.

“Oh my God, I do not do that.”

“You kinda do, now that I think about it,” Sasha finally sat down. “I mean, I have seen you pick fights with men flirting with you before, and you are a completely different person with them versus with Jungkook.”

The others thought about what Sasha said, and it was almost like a collective epiphany. They all looked at you with the same look on their faces; almost an accusatory expression.

“You totally like him; oh my God! Yn likes Jungkook. It makes so much sense; I can’t believe I was so stupid,” Nora expressed with exciting energy.

You felt a rush of relief coming over you, almost as if you were carrying a secret that you wanted out. You had no idea if that feeling was a good sign or a bad one.

“Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here, girls. I do not ‘totally like him’; I may be just starting—emphasis on just starting—to warm up to the idea of giving him a chance,” you revealed. “But Sasha, promise not to tell Taehyung about this, ‘cause if you do, Jungkook is gonna know by default, and I’m never gonna hear the end of it.”

“I won’t; I promise. This is just soooo exciting,” she spoke. “It’s just gonna be really hard to keep to myself, but I will try.”

“No, you won’t just try; you have to actually not say anything. You forget how indecisive I am; I could change my mind about this in an hour, so if you tell Taehyung, he will tell Jungkook, then Jungkook builds up hope and confronts me about what he heard, and I’ll just be like, ‘Oh, that was nothing; he’s just messing with you,’ and can you imagine how hurt his feelings would be? I really don’t need that on my conscience,” you explained thoroughly, your dramatics intact as they always were.

“Oh my God,” they all said in unison.

“What?”

“You care about his feelings!” Avery exclaimed, standing up dramatically. “You like him, like, like him. Admit it, admit it, please, please, please.”

“Shut up. I’m going to bed now. Buh-bye.” With that, you exited the living room, leaving your friends to talk about your situation for another hour before also going to bed.

“Remember when he got her a Cartier bracelet?”

___

“I will form six groups consisting of four students; each group discussing the topic I will be assigning them,” Professor Sullivan revealed.

“Ms. Ln, you will be grouped with Ms. Jones, Mr. Jeon, and Mr. Davis,” he spoke loudly. “You will be discussing Rousseau’s ‘The Confessions’ and prepare a presentation on identity and selfhood that is due next week, on Monday.”

You dreaded being in a group with Ben Davis, who had been nothing but a pain in your butt since you got to know him, but at least the assignment was the one that you wanted.

Jungkook, who sat next to you, smirked and nodded his head. “They couldn’t tear us apart if they tried, angel; this is meant to be.”

“Who are you even talking about? Who’s they?” Confused by his words, you asked.

“Just the world. You know how much these people hate real love,” he flashed you his trademark smile, making you push his arm playfully.

"Could you two stop flirting so we can start with the assignment?" the annoying voice of Ben whined, sitting across from you, with Lily Jones joining in the seat next to his.

“Alright, let’s dive in,” you started talking. “I personally think the most transfixing part of ‘The Confessions’ is how Rousseau emphasizes his intentions to be authentic. He exposes himself without shame or any sense of privacy, which for the time challenged societal norms completely.”

Lily nodded in agreement; Jungkook was busy staring at your lips as you articulated your opinion, smiling with his arm still around your shoulder. Ben, on the other hand, pulled a face you could only describe as disgusted. “Authenticity? The only authentic thing about Rousseau is that he is able to whine about his feelings like a pubescent girl. It feels almost like narcissism to me.”

"What a stupid take, Ben. With Rousseau writing this book, he laid the foundation for modern notions of individuality; the book challenges the reader to think about their own identity, their individuality," you explained your point further.

“I don’t need a stupid book like this to tell me about my identity or my individuality. It’s literally just a dude whining and rambling about his feelings and whatnot. No one wants to hear it,” Ben snapped.

Jungkook looked between you and Ben while you were arguing; seeing your agitated face when you hated someone made him realize you didn’t hate him at all. You even leaned closer into his arms.

“Well, I think we can use this as a talking point in our presentation,” Lily stated her idea. “How our perception of the book is similar to how we perceive ourselves; there are people like Yn, who confront and explore their feelings, thus creating a healthy relationship with the self, and there are people like Ben, who repress and ignore them, which makes for an angry person; which, by the way, is also an emotion.”

You and Lily giggled at her words, sending each other glances as to say, "God, I fucking hate that guy."

Jungkook decided to chime in. “That’s a good idea. We can use it as an opportunity to dive deeper into the self, to question it. If you are so opposed to Rousseau’s vulnerability, that’s a big indication of your own issues with vulnerability.”

You observed him as he spoke, astonished at his participation. You leaned in even more, to the point where your bodies touched as a way to show him you liked what he said.

“Oh, shut the hell up, man,” Ben shot back. “We all know you’re just here ‘cause of her; you don’t actually give a crap about all this.”

Jungkook simply smirked at him, already having figured out how easily provoked Ben was.

“He obviously cares more than you, ‘cause with that attitude, we are never gonna get a presentation done, much less start,” you defended Jungkook sassily, with a displeased expression sent Ben’s way, who just mumbled, “Yeah, go on, defend your boyfriend.”

“True,” Lily sighed. “By the way, where are we gonna prepare our presentation? The common rooms are always too loud, and all lecture halls are always occupied, and I don’t know about you guys, but my dorm isn’t exactly a mansion.”

You thought about Lily’s concern for a second, and the same resonated with you; your on-campus apartment wasn’t small, but you shared it with four very loud girls.

“We can do it at my place; I don’t mind,” Jungkook offered with a squeeze on your shoulder. “Then I finally have an excuse to invite my baby over.”

You looked up at him, meeting his mischievous eyes. For a moment, you shared intimate eye contact before Ben coughed to get your attention. “At your penthouse? Pff, no thanks. I’m sure a professor will let us use a room here.”

“You are not serious, Ben. Jungkook just offers us to go to his huge penthouse and you decline? I must say, I have never known such a dedicated hater; it’s almost admirable,” Lily admitted her admiration for Ben’s consistency.

“Why the fuck would we go there? It’s off campus, and it’s a penthouse; it’s so… distracting and unnecessary,” Ben debated, irritation written all over him.

“It’s a 15-minute walk and a five-minute drive, man; it’s not in Mexico,” Jungkook concurred, unable to find reason in Ben’s opposition.

“And what’s wrong with it being a penthouse? I personally would love to just hang out at a penthouse. It would make uni work a lot easier, actually,” Lily stated.

“I agree,” you shared, making Jungkook grin like an idiot at the image of you in his house. “And since this is a democracy, and we have one vote against three, we will meet at Jungkook’s penthouse next Sunday; of course, if that works for you, Jungkook."

“Works perfect!” he excitedly responded.

Ben was looking pissed as always; Lily was already thinking about all the pictures she was going to ask you to take of her in the penthouse for her Instagram, and Jungkook and you seemed to be in your own little world, gazing at each other.

“Thank you, Jungkook; that’s really nice of you,” you expressed with a smile, lifting your face to his to plant a short kiss on his cheek.

His heart raced at the unexpected movement; you had never done that before. He froze, his gaze lingering on you for a long moment while you gathered your belongings at the signal of class dismissal. One by one, the students gradually walked out, and you followed suit with Jungkook trailing behind you. He advanced in your direction, watching your hips sway.

“Yn!” he called after you, resulting in you turning around.

“Yes?”

“Go out with me tomorrow night at 7:00, just you and me,” he called out flirtatiously, gaining the attention of everybody around him, but only having his eyes on you.

You grinned mischievously at him before replying, “I don’t know about that… you’ll have to impress me first.”

To anyone else, it might sound like a rejection, but to Jungkook, it sparked a glimmer of hope that made his heart leap with resolve. Until now, it had only been ‘no’s and ‘no thank you’s. He was more confident than ever that he would capture the heart that had captured his.

___

“Yn, what did you do to Jungkook?” Sasha came back from a date night with Taehyung. “Tae told me he can’t stop smiling and is just sitting there, being cheesy as fuck.”

You were writing a sonnet for your poetry class as she barged into your room, looking stunning. “What made him think it’s about me? Let the man smile and be cheesy in peace.”

After Sasha looked at you with a look that said ‘you know damn well,’ you confessed, “He asked me out, and I—”

“You finally said yes??” she quickly interrupted with a dropped jaw.

“Nooo, I said maybe if he impresses me,” you continued. “Oh, and I also kissed him on the cheek.”

“You. Did. Not!” Sasha put a hand over her mouth, a loud gasp leaving it. “No wonder he is a smiling idiot; you broke him!”

“No, I didn’t ‘break’ him; I’m simply doing what I already said I am doing; I’m warming him up, giving him hope,” you explained, putting your pen down. “Because there is a very high chance that I will agree to go out with him soon. I just need that something.”

“That something?” Sasha repeated, confused.

“Yeah, that something; that one moment that makes me go yes, this is the man I want,” you further explained. “I have a good reason, two actually; I’m picky, indecisive, and also a virgin, so if I let him in and then, for some reason, regret it, I will be destroyed. And if I suddenly change my mind after giving him a chance, it will hurt Jungkook really badly, and I don’t want that.”

Sasha looked perplexed and deep in thought at your words, as if puzzling them together and making sense of them. “Oh wow, I never thought of it like that, but now, I totally get you.”

“Well, finally!” you smiled at her and giggled. “Anyway, what are you and Tae wearing to the Halloween party? Cause I was thinking…”

___

You and your girls took Halloween very seriously. You loved the dressing up, the makeup, and you always utilized the only day in the year where it was socially acceptable to be someone else entirely.

Of course, there were always at least six simultaneous Halloween parties going on on campus, and you had to choose between them, which was never a hard decision to make since Kappa Sigma always won. If they’re throwing a party, no other party stood a chance.

You decided to dress up as something cute yet sexy but very recognizable. Last year you came as Jane Eyre, and not a single person guessed your costume right. You decided to go with Chel from ‘The Road to El Dorado’; a white maxi skirt with two slits on the sides, a pink tube top, and statement jewelry with your hair down. It was low effort, yet very effective.

Nora went with Cher from Clueless, Avery of course was Shego, Tanya went creative and dressed as 2010 Justin Bieber, and Sasha and Taehyung were Morticia and Gomez Addams for the night, catching many envious stares.

After all the assignments, the essays, and the overall stress of uni the past few weeks, you hadn’t felt that alive and sexy in a while. Your maxi skirt was clinging to your full lower body seductively, and your tube top took on the very shape of your chest. You looked damn good, and you were ready to feel good too. Promising you wouldn’t drink too much, you took it slow.

Moving your hips seductively to the beat of a The Weeknd song while closing your eyes and tilting your head back, with Avery and Nora dancing together in front of you. Tanya was nowhere to be found, and Taehyung and Sasha were having their own dance party, grinding and kissing like there was no tomorrow. The dancing continued, and with it, the staring. You wished you could just dance at a party and have everybody mind their own business.

After a couple more rounds of dancing and drinking, you felt a firm hand gripping your hips. Turning around immediately, you pushed the guy away and looked at him, terrified. “What the fuck?? Get your filthy hands off of me!!”

Your friends stopped their dancing for a moment to see what was going on. They found Ben, dressed as Patrick Bateman, groping your hips like you were his property. “Just having fun, bird; don’t get all upset.”

Avery and Nora yelled at him, but it wasn’t effective. The scene caused such a huge stir that even Sasha and Taehyung got out of their trance, watching your fight with Ben.

“Yo, dude, get the fuck outta here, or I’ll call the cops on you,” Taehyung stepped in, pushing Ben completely out of the way. “What the fuck made you think you could do this, huh?”

As if he knew just when to step in, Jungkook in a cop uniform just arrived at the scene, asking what was happening.

A very drunk Ben slurred his words in an almost incoherent tone, facing Taehyung. “Look, man, she’s dressed like a slut. So I’m gonna treat her like a slut.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened at Ben’s words, trying to make sense of the situation. He followed Ben’s eyes that were directly watching you, all of your friends and Taehyung just standing shocked, and the only thing between you and Ben was a protective Taehyung. Ben was talking about you.

Without putting any thought into his actions, Jungkook stepped in and punched the guy in his face, causing him to stumble down to the ground, where Jungkook kicked him in the face before crouching down and spitting on him. “What the fuck did you just say??! Did you touch her, huh? Did you fucking touch her? I swear, I’ll kill you; I’ll fucking kill you, man; this is your last day alive, ‘cause I’ll kill you.”

You had no idea what to do in this situation, so you just watched with a shrinking posture, similar to your friends who were all in shock at the scene of Ben lying on the ground, his blood pouring out while Jungkook continued to throw punches. At that point, the entire party stopped and just observed the scene.

"Jungkook, that’s enough. I’d love for you to kill him, but I don’t wanna see you in jail, bro," Taehyung calmly spoke, in order to ease the tension. Jungkook listened to him, standing up; a look that furious had never been on his face.

He turned to you, taking your hands in his, his face softening at the sight of you. “Everything okay, baby?”

You nodded weakly, semi-visible tears rolling down your cheeks. Your instincts told you to hug him, so you did. He immediately pulled you closer to him, his hand on your back and your chest against his as he soothingly rocked you back and forth. Everybody was watching you, but you didn’t find it in yourself to care.

“Come on, I’ll take you upstairs to relax,” he took your hand, guiding you through the crowd and into one of the bedrooms. “Want me to carry you?”

For the first time in those 30 minutes, you cracked a tiny smile, knowing that he was so very serious about carrying you in front of an entire party. “No, that’s fine; I can walk.”

Ignoring the intense eyes of the crowd, you two made your way upstairs.

Your eyes were still slightly watery with tears, and you were still holding onto Jungkook’s hand as you both sat down on the bed. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

He offered you an irresistible smile and brought you in tighter against his solid chest, allowing you to hear his every heartbeat clearly. “That’s my job, baby; no need to thank me.”

“You really didn’t have to do that; I don’t want you to put yourself in danger for me, Kookie,” you spoke against his chest, with a soft, alluring voice, using his nickname to make him happy. “Ben really isn’t worth your anger at all.”

Jungkook took in your entire figure from above you with a gleam in his eyes. “Yn, I will do anything to protect you. I won’t ever allow anyone to harm you.”

You gently pulled away from his chest to meet his loving gaze. You never understood the books where the main character described a romantic encounter by saying ‘it felt like we were the only two people in the world’ until that moment. He leaned in closer, maintaining eye contact. You placed a delicate hand on his muscular arm—too gentle to stop him from getting closer, yet firm enough to prevent yourself from melting into him.

You were face to face with him now—breathing the same air. “You really mean that?”

“I couldn’t be more sincere,” he whispered, the warmth of his words meeting your full lips, his hands firmly placed on your soft, naked waist. “You know, we’ve never been this close before.”

“Yeah,” is all you managed to say, avoiding eye contact.

Suddenly, Jungkook pulled away, standing up, offering you his hand. “As much as I want to kiss you, I don’t think we should do that right now. You obviously drank tonight, and I want you to want to kiss me, and I want you to remember kissing me.”

You nodded and took his hand, not knowing what to say or do. As you stepped outside again, Jungkook’s broad shoulders became your view, him leading you downstairs again to take you home.

“Jungkook?” you said his name quietly, almost in a whisper.

He turned around, watching your shorter and smaller frame from above, looking absolutely tempting. “Yeah?”

“I’ll go out with you.”

___

The week after the Halloween party was exhausting; there were exams, essays, and seminars.

Besides the exams and usual uni duties, Jungkook was very enthusiastic about your first date. Being secretive about what he’d planned, getting your friends to ask you what you expected from a first date in an unsuspecting way, not wanting to annoy you so that you wouldn’t change your mind. It was very endearing.

You were also looking forward to the date, but you were much more subtle about it. Jungkook didn’t care about secrecy as much, telling every single person he knew that you agreed to go on a date with him; the news spread fast, and every student knew about your date.

Taehyung reported to Sasha that he jumped up and down, screaming and shouting out of the windows, “I DID IT! I FINALLY DID IT!” And later, when the pizza they ordered arrived, he tipped the delivery guy 300 bucks and told him, "The love of my life finally agreed to go out with me; I wish for you the same. I wish for every longing soul to experience the same happiness I am in right now, but I don’t think that’s possible because only she is capable of making a human feel this way. Goodbye and good luck, brother."

As for your shared class, he was insatiable. It was about the only time that week where you were able to see each other, and he had made good use of those three hours. In just three lectures, he got you a Swiss chocolate cake with a picture of himself printed on it because Avery informed him chocolate cake was your favorite. He got you a beige rose Lady Dior purse because it "goes well with your complexion," and a pink diamond ring, which he said was "nothing compared to the future engagement ring, of course." Before he signed up for your class, he gave you a gift once every two weeks, so this was a lot even for Jungkook. You told him it was all unnecessary, and he said, "No, this is very necessary; gotta spoil my future wife."

You were drowning in your assignments, your MacBook completely overheating when your name was called.

"Yn! There’s a package for you on the table," Tanya, one of your roommates informed.

You got out of your room confused; you couldn’t remember ordering anything in the last few weeks, and Jungkook usually liked to give you his gifts in person. “Are you sure it’s for me?”

Tanya playfully scoffed at you, reading what’s on the package again. “Is there another Yn here that I have yet to be introduced to?”

You scoffed back, taking the package into your room. Your impatient self couldn’t resist tearing it open to see what’s inside. A note, a small box, and a big white box with the words ‘Givenchy’ on it. Your breath hitched.

The note read: ‘Wear this to our date, gorgeous. Yours forever, JK.’

Almost scared to do so, you opened the white box, revealing a gorgeous, long blue silk dress. Then you opened the smaller box, which held a beautiful 24k gold necklace and matching earrings inside it. That idiot. You smiled to yourself, but quickly realized you shouldn’t.

You were a princess, and you deserved to be treated like one; he was just a rich enough man to comply.

You freed yourself from the clothes you were wearing. Carefully, you took the dress out of the box and put it on.

It fit like a glove, harmonizing with your every curve. The neckline was low, exposing the perfect amount of cleavage.

How did he know my size?

You put the dress back into the box neatly and pulled out your phone.

7:26

Yn: How do you know my size?

7:29

JK: I’m glad you got my little gift. Do you like it?

7:31

Yn: Yes, it is very nice; thank you. It was not necessary at all.

7:32

JK: I’m glad, baby; can’t stop thinking about tomorrow.

7:34

Yn: I’m really excited too.

7:36

JK: Promise you won’t be disappointed.

___

Whistles and girly screams were heard all over your apartment when you stepped out of your room, wearing the blue silk dress that clung to your wide hips and showcased your full chest perfectly; in soft glam makeup and your hair in an elegant updo, dazzled with the matching set of necklace and earrings, a pretty black purse in your hand. You looked the very image of beauty.

“Damn, girl!” Nora let out, impressed by your beauty.

“Does it look good?” you asked. You knew you looked beautiful, but you needed the extra assurance.

“Are you kidding me? You look ravishing, absolutely radiant; your body is just wow,” Avery complimented, observing you from head to toe. “Is that a new dress? It’s soo fucking gorgeous.”

“Yeah, it is; Jungkook actually sent it to me to wear today.” You felt your cheeks heating up at the knowing glances of your friends.

“Mmhmh, he’s a good man, Yn; a good man,” Sasha quoted a TikTok sound. “He’s so gonna freak when he sees you!”

“Is that what was in the package a few days ago? The guy’s got taste; gotta hand it to him,” Tanya chimed in. “When is he picking you up?”

You looked at the clock and answered, “Just in 3 minutes.”

About two seconds after you said that, a knock was heard from your front door.

“Ooooh, somebody’s eager,” Nora wiggled her eyebrows.

You walked to the front door, opening it after letting out an ‘I’ll get that.’

Before you stood Jungkook, wearing black tailored pants and a sophisticated white button-up shirt tucked into his pants, emphasizing his small waist and his muscular frame. In his hand, he held a big bouquet of pink and red roses.

“Hi, Jungkook,” you greeted him with a million-dollar smile.

He observed you with the biggest grin in the world, letting his eyes travel up and down your frame. “You are the most beautiful woman on Earth. Here, these are for you.”

He handed you the bouquet, which you took gracefully. “Thank you! They’re beautiful.”

Your friends freaked out, all attentively watching the interaction.

“Let’s go?” Jungkook said in a questioning tone. You nodded.

“No funny business, mister! We want her home by 11,” Avery screamed while you and Jungkook made your way out. Jungkook laughed, giving her a thumbs up.

“Yeah, you better not try anything with our girl; remember, we see all!” Sasha joined her, while Tanya and Nora made kissing and moaning noises, causing you to facepalm.

“Let’s just go, Jungkook,” you expressed in an embarrassed voice. “I’ll see you girls later!”

Once you were out, you looked at Jungkook apologetically. “I am so sorry; they’re literally so embarrassing sometimes.”

“It’s fine,” Jungkook chuckled, taking your hand in his. “Let them have their fun; they’ve been waiting for this day as long as I have.”

You bit your lip as your eyes met his longing ones.

“Now, let’s go,” he started walking faster towards his car. “I got us reservations at Quince.”

Quince was an Italian restaurant that you only heard of but never entered; it was much too expensive for you to even consider. It was not like you were poor; it was just that Jungkook was wealthy.

You both made your way to the car together; he opened the door for you and then entered himself.

“This is a really nice car,” you stated, taking in the car with a wide-eyed look.

“Yeah?” He started the engine. “It’s a Mercedes-Benz Maybach Exelero.”

You simply nodded, still looking around amazed.

“You know, I’m beyond happy you finally agreed to go out with me,” Jungkook admitted, one hand on the wheel and the other hand finding your thick thighs. “I lost hope there for a while, you know?”

“Well, what can I say? I’m an incalculable girl,” you teased, putting a hand over his, linking your fingers. “You will never figure me out, Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s dimple was visible as you gazed at him while he looked ahead.

“Remember when you told me you’re never going out with me? Well, now you are,” his voice reminisced. “So, I think I will figure you out, Yn.”

You decided to push his buttons a little. “Are you telling me you would wait over two years to figure me out? I didn’t peg you for a patient one.”

“I would wait a lifetime just to get a little piece of your heart and be able to call it mine, Yn,” he professed, his hands tightened, and his eyes gazed at you with yearning.

You didn’t know what to say.

_

The dinner at Quince was a dream come true; Jungkook rented out the entire restaurant for you, the view was breathtaking, every dish was a work of art, and the service treated you like royalty.

“So, do you like it here?” Jungkook asked you as you shared a slice of the best chocolate cake you had ever tasted.

“I love it!” you enthusiastically replied. “It is so beautiful here, Jungkook; honestly, thank you so much.”

The harpist was in the back, playing soft melodies that warmed your heart. You could not believe Jungkook planned all of this for you, and a sense of regret washed over you as you realized this was the man that you had been denying for two years.

“No need to thank me, baby; the important thing is that you’re with me,” he took a piece of cake with his fork and held it in front of your mouth, which you then ate, blushing. “I got something for you.”

Jungkook made a hand gesture, and as if on cue, a staff member came in, holding a framed picture in their hand, handing it to Jungkook.

He held it up for you to see; it was a star map, a very beautiful one. “This is the star map of the day we met—3rd of October, 2 years ago.”

Your eyes widened. “You remember the day we met?”

“Of course I do.”

“Jungkook, it’s so beautiful. I’ll hang it up on my wall,” you admired it while he admired you. “You’re really spoiling me.”

“Of course, baby, that’s my job,” he answered, taking your hand in his. “Now, let’s go; I have something planned for us.”

_

“Where are you taking me now?” you inquired; his secrecy wasn’t scaring you, but you were a naturally curious person.

“It’s a secret, baby. I promise you’ll love it,” Jungkook kept his eyes on the road, responsibly, and his veins ripped along his forearms, your eyes glued to the thickness of his arms.

“Ugh, fine, if you wanna be secretive about this, be secretive about it,” you feigned dramatic annoyance. “Just know that I’m hating every minute of it.”

“I think I can live with that since we’re just three minutes away,” he teased, his dimples evident.

“Three whole minutes of me hating it… you are a very cruel man, Jeon,” you shook your head, enjoying the breeze of the Californian air.

When you arrived in the parking lot of a bar, he pulled up saying, “We’re here!” before stepping out and jogging to your side, opening the door for you. You took his hand, letting him lead the way into the bar.

“A bar?” you asked in a suspicious voice. “Jungkook, a bar is not the place you take a lady…”

He knew you were joking and chuckled lightly.

“Just wait till we get in; you’ll love it,” his excitement was apparent, which confused you even more.

You stepped inside the bar, which was actually prettier than you imagined it would be; it had a calming feel about it. It didn’t look like a traditional bar; there was a stage set up and seats for an audience where about 30 people were already sat.

“Sit here,” Jungkook took your hand and brought you to a seat right in the front.

He made his way onto the stage, which led to you asking him, “What are you doing?” but he didn’t answer your question and just stood in front of the mic.

“So, uh, I wrote a poem a few weeks ago about the girl I love—a girl I have been trying to get with for two straight years and failed every time. I know how much she loves poetry,” Jungkook spoke to the crowd, his eyes gleaming with happiness. “And exactly a week and two days ago, she agreed to go out with me. Actually, this is part of our date; she’s sitting right there.”

He pointed at you proudly; the crowd cheered at the cute story he told and then observed you and cheered some more before letting him continue.

Jungkook looked self-assured, but there were little hints that showed you he was nervous to be standing in front of a crowd the way he was. “Yn, I know your writing is way superior to mine, but I hope you like this regardless. I’m gonna read it now.”

The crowd slightly giggled at his comment, but you could only focus on catching your breath and stopping your tears because you had never expected Jungkook to be as amazing as he was.

“In grand halls where soft echoes linger,

I spread petals, gold on gray floors.

Yet no amount of riches can sway you

To feel what’s in my heart, what I adore.

Two years have passed like silk through fingers,

Each moment woven with hopes and dreams.

But in your eyes, there’s a distant wonder;

You craft your path, and it’s not what it seems.

I’ve painted skies with vibrant colors,

Called stars to shine above you, glowing bright.

But love, I find, goes beyond gold and shine—

Sometimes a simple heart knows what feels right.

Yet here I stand in this space, laid bare,

With wealth at hand, but your laughter’s far away.

I’d give it all, just to share a moment—

To glimpse the dreams you cherish and replay.

Though riches fade like whispers in the dark,

My love, unyielding, still holds the spark.”

The crowd erupted into applause, gasps, and "awe's" and "Girl, marry him's" as Jungkook finished. You sat there, frozen in time and frozen in the words he dedicated to you; your heart beating faster than it should be, and singular tears rolling down your face.

Jungkook left the stage, eagerly approached you with the softest smile. “Did you like it?”

You couldn’t utter a word; you only stood in front of him, shook your head slightly in disbelief, and threw your arms around his neck tightly, jumping into his arms, hiding your face in his chest. You cried.

“Hey, why are you crying? Was the poem that bad?” he half-joked, running his hands over your hair soothingly.

As you finally parted from him, you glanced at his face, adoringly and implored, “Kiss me.”

And so he did. He kissed you hard like a soldier reunited with his loved one after many years; his hands were firmly on your waist, exploring other places of your body—in that moment, you were alone. In that moment, it was only Jungkook and you as you lost yourself in each other.

You stayed like that for a few minutes, lost in each other before staying at the bar for a while, listening to talented poets reciting their work.

___

“I can drive you back to the dorms, or you can—” Jungkook started.

“No, I think I wanna go back to your place,” you quickly interrupted. “Of course, if that’s okay with you.”

After leaving the bar, you entered his car, lips still swollen from all the kissing.

“Of course it’s okay with me; you said exactly what I hoped you’d say,” he smiled. “You know, the girls will probably beat me up tomorrow for not bringing you back.”

The drive to his penthouse wasn’t long at all; it was just enough to talk for a while and enjoy the evening view.

“Oh, absolutely not; they are totally secretly celebrating this because all they’ve been wanting me to do these past two years is give you a chance,” you admitted, also smiling. “Now that that happened, I can just tell you the complete truth; there is nobody more into this than them.”

“Damn, so even with a whole secret support system behind me, it took me two years?” He tsked, finding amusement in the admission. “That’s embarrassing for me.”

You looked up at him through your lashes and tilted your head; he was focusing on the road, but glanced at you as much as he could. “If you were anybody else, it would’ve taken you five more.”

He leaned in to steal a quick kiss; the prideful expression on his face was clear to see. “That’s really good to know.”

You drove around for the next 10 minutes; finally, you arrived at his luxurious penthouse, which was adorned with a huge terrace and a chic entrance that you rushed to hand in hand.

You had already been to his penthouse for the project, yet its beauty didn’t fail to impress you once again; being in this position made it look even more magical.

As soon as you stepped inside, Jungkook grabbed your waist and gently held you, with his lips finding yours again. You stumbled into the spacious yet warm living room. As your lips still moved in sync and passionately, your hands roamed his body, exploring every muscle, every inch. Your gasps intertwined with his heavy breathing, your chest against his. He guided you to the couch and sat down, without breaking the kiss, and with firm, strong hands on your hips, he seated you on his lap.

Your heated core met his clothed, hard dick in sensual movements, the grinding gradually getting quicker and more effective. You felt his hardness press against your covered pussy, leading to feelings unknown to you. Your dress crept up higher with every movement of your generous hips, his hands now on your ass, kneading it while moaning into your mouth.

“Fuck, Yn, you don’t know how fucking long I’ve been waiting for this,” he breathed, breaking the kiss for just a second before going back immediately, earning an agreeing moan from you.

His hands wandered over your entire body, holding your slightly pudgy stomach and traveling up to your full breasts. You couldn’t contain your moans from coming out, your lips moving against his as if they were made for them.

But there was something on your mind that you still had not mentioned to Jungkook.

“Wait, Jungkook—” you interrupted your session with a breathless voice. “I—I have to tell you something.”

He was confused, his face slightly flushed with hazy eyes and parted lips. “Yeah, anything, baby.”

“I’m—I’m a... virgin,” you almost whispered, still sat on his lap, lowering your head so you wouldn’t have to face him. “But I wanna do this.”

His grip on your hips loosened for a second before he firmly grabbed you again. “Oh.”

Your heart sank a little, not knowing what to make of his response.

Just a few seconds later, he continued, “We can take everything slow, baby; we don’t need to rush into anything; we’ll do everything at your pace.”

You nodded, raising your head again to look into his eyes. “Thank you, Kookie.”

“Of course,” he kissed you gently.

“Okay, we can go back to making out now; I just have a tiny problem,” you noted, easing the tension caused by your revelation. “I don’t have anything to wear, and I can’t stay in this dress the whole night.”

Jungkook chuckled and slowly stood up. “Wait here; I’ll get you a t-shirt.”

The few minutes it took him to get you a shirt gave you a chance to take in your luxurious surroundings; the lavish, over-the-top kitchen facing the living room brought a smile to your face, knowing that Jungkook in no way cooked or had any culinary skills whatsoever.

“Here, wear this,” Jungkook came back with a black shirt in his hands. “Next time, we’ll be prepared. Gotta make sure you have your own closet here.”

Your heart beamed at his display of commitment, knowing he was serious about everything he said.

You took the shirt, turning your back to him. “Can you help me zip the dress down? I can’t reach it.”

He obliged happily, zipping the dress’ zip down, his hands lightly brushing over your uncovered back, his lips pressing a small kiss on your shoulder. You turned around, letting the dress fall down, exposing you in just a lacy black lingerie set that left little to the imagination.

His gaze traveled over your entire figure, lips grazing his teeth with a spark in his eyes that conveyed a thousand unspoken thoughts.

“Damn,” he uttered after you put on the shirt, which barely reached your thighs. “Can’t believe you’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”

With newfound confidence, you pushed his chest, resulting in him ending up on the couch once again, and sat down on his lap with an alluring smile.

“I wanna finish what we started now,” you purred against his lips, guiding his hands to your waist. The rhythm of your seductive hips brought his breath to a halt, guttural "fuck's" escaping him.

You quickly stripped away his shirt, revealing his muscular arms and defined abs—all for you to run your hands over and admire, his dick noticeably growing. In response, Jungkook took off your—or his—shirt, leaving you in just a lacy bra, your tits practically spilling out of it; a sight he adored more than anything.

“Shit... please, let me take off the bra,” Jungkook desperately implored, to which you just as desperately nodded. “Just wanna see you like that.”

His fingers toyed with the clasp of your bra before completely unfastening it, exposing your big tits and hard nipples. You were surprised at your lack of shyness, feeling completely free and comfortable, exposed in front of Jungkook like that.

“Fuck,” he growled at the sight of your bare breasts before leaning in, gently taking one into his mouth, sucking it and swirling his tongue around it. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You pushed your head back from the overwhelming pleasure, one of your tits getting sucked and the other one getting kneaded, while you desperately chased the friction, your thinly clothed pussy rubbing against his dick. It was an erotic experience; Jungkook was introducing you to a new world.

“Baby, if you keep moving like that, I’m gonna cum in my boxers,” he hissed, his strong arms stopping your movements momentarily.

You were both in a state of haziness; desperation was strongly felt in the air. Your pussy was sticky and slick, aching for more.

“Then fuck me, Jungkook,” you whispered urgently, his breath stopping for a second.

“Are you sure about this, Yn?” he sincerely asked, locking eyes with you to look for a speck of uncertainty; he didn’t find it.

“Yes, I’m so sure,” you answered him steadily. “All I want is for you to fuck me.”

With that, Jungkook didn’t waste any time. He stood up, still grabbing your hips firmly while your legs were wrapped around his waist, and carried you toward the elevator, your bare chest pressing against his and your head lazily resting on his broad shoulders. Finally, he carried you to his bedroom, gently throwing you onto the bed.

He looked at you from above, lips caught between his teeth. He hastily put his hands on you, wanting nothing more than to take off your lace panties, the only thing holding him back from seeing you completely bare. So, he did, slipping your panties down your legs until they’re completely off.

His fingers traced your now bare pussy, lightly teasing it, eliciting a gasp from you. “That’s the prettiest, wettest fucking pussy I’ve ever had.”

You blushed, not knowing what to say.

Slowly, Jungkook’s hands moved to the waistband of his boxers, taking them off entirely. His thick, long dick was freed, settling on his lower belly. The pre-cum shimmered on it, ready to enter you at any moment.

Your breath hitched, taking it all in for a second; your eyes widened at the powerful sight before you. He stood above you, symbolizing dominance, while you were naked, sitting on the bed, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

“Can I just…” you leaned forward, facing his pretty dick, giving it a lick.

“Fuck, Yn, yes please,” he stepped forward a bit to give you easier access. “You ever done this before?”

You shook your head, maintaining eye contact. His eyes darkened, turned on by your innocence. Strong hands found your hair, guiding you closer to him.

You gave him more licks and kisses, swirling your tongue around it and kissing every inch of it before finally taking it into your mouth entirely. He was big, so you struggled a little to breathe properly, but you wanted to keep going for him.

“Shit, baby, you’re doing so good,” he groaned as your hands started working him while your full lips were wrapped around him, sucking him. “Just like that.”

Bobbing your head up and down, you slightly gagged around him, but your hand on his hip signaled him to thrust into your mouth further, which he gladly did. The huge bedroom echoed with his shameless groans and praises.

He smelled clean and tasted salty, sort of musky; it was comfortable having him in your mouth. You continued to explore his dick, recalling all the blowjob wisdom given to you by your friends and the internet, and implementing it.

“Baby, I’m close,” Jungkook’s words were barely a whimper, sending more arousal to your slick pussy.

His words elicited desperation in you, desiring nothing more than to give him pleasure. You bobbed your head harder, his groans getting louder and his thrusts quicker. His hands tightened around your hair; it was obvious he was losing control, chasing his high.

The heat was building, Jungkook’s voice getting louder, and a few seconds later, a warm, salty liquid filled your mouth, which you instinctively swallowed. You released his dick from your grip and looked up at him.

His head was tilted back, eyes closed and breathing heavily before he finally looked down at you, leaning in and giving you a kiss. He put his boxers on again.

“You did so great, baby,” he praised, now sitting next to you on the bed. “I’m glad I’m your first... and last.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, hiding your face in his shoulder. “I’m glad too.”

You stayed in his embrace for a few minutes; he soothingly whispered sweet nothings into your ear. With determination, you started grinding against him again; this time, your bare pussy against him. A rush of blood was sent to his dick, slowly getting erect again.

“You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” Both of his hands were positioned on your moving hips, furthering the friction between you.

“Yeah, I do, actually,” you admitted in a sultry whisper, licking his upper lip playfully.

“Yeah?” His eyes traveled from your eyes to your lips.

“Hmmm, yeah,” you tilted your head flirtatiously, giving in to another kiss. “So, are you gonna fuck me today or not?”

Jungkook chuckled, clearly amused by your directness. “Baby, I just want to be sure you’re 100% sure about this.”

“I am sure!” you spoke with a tinge of urgency. “Can’t you feel my wetness? I need you, Kookie; I need you to be inside of me.”

The contrast of your words and the usage of his silly nickname made Jungkook’s heart race. He felt the urge to take you right then and there.

With a quick shift, he stood up, grabbed a soft towel and put it on the bed, and gently pushed you so you lay on the bed, ready for him to enter. He towered over you, fingers finding your wet pussy again, playing with it. After removing his boxers again, he fisted himself, the sticky sound of pre-cum finding you; you enjoyed the view more than you would admit. He opened a pack of condoms and took one out, wrapping it around his big dick.

“You sure you’re sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, I’m sure,” your bratty attitude started to show.

Jungkook came closer, parting your legs slightly, taking in the sight of your pussy, glistening for him. As he approached your entrance, he maintained eye contact. “This is gonna hurt a little at first, baby, but tell me as soon as it’s too much, okay?”

You nodded, your eyes filled with anticipation and nervousness. “Okay.”

He held onto you gently and slowly entered your wetness, eliciting a loud gasp from you. As he entered further, you grabbed onto him tighter, burying your head in his shoulder and clawing his back with your nails. “Fuck, this pussy is so fucking tight.”

“Does it hurt, baby?” he gently asked through heavy breaths, his thrusts continuing to be soft. You nodded. “It’s okay; just a moment and it’ll feel good.”

And he was right; just a couple of seconds into more soft thrusts, the pain transformed into satisfying pleasure that quickly took over, your gasps turning into soft moans.

“Jungkook… fuck me harder,” you begged, pushing him down and closer to you; your bodies sticking together even closer than before. “Please.”

Gradually, his thrusts became harsher, lips moving from your neck to your tits that were begging for his attention and his big hands that gripped your ass. Your desperate grip on his back firmed as you clenched around his dick, causing his breath to hitch. He deepened his thrusts, hitting your walls sensually, introducing you to a pleasure you never knew you could feel.

“Shit, you feel so good around me,” his deep, grunting voice hugged you. “Gonna fuck you stupid; nobody else can touch you like that.”

His ongoing rambling about how good you felt, how beautiful you were, and how long he had waited for this made you feel like you were the most cherished woman on Earth. You couldn’t believe that this was happening. If someone had told you two years ago that you would be in Jungkook’s penthouse, his dick ramming into you deliciously; you would laugh in their face. But here you were.

To add an element of surprise, you suddenly changed the position, turning the both of you around and pushing him down to the bed, taking control as you rode him up and down. A cocky smirk formed on his annoyingly pretty face, looking up at you in admiration.

“You learn quick,” he praised in a grunt, putting his head between your bouncing tits.

You were too lost in pleasure to respond, your ass clapping against his balls and your hands were all over his broad upper body, savoring every inch of him. Your head tilted back in bliss as his dick slipped in and out of your wet, tight pussy; a sight that Jungkook enjoyed very much.

“Baby, I’m close, shit… I’m so fucking close,” he informed with a breathy voice, bitten lips, and hazy eyes, dick thrusting up more desperately than before.

Your walls tightened more around his throbbing dick, indicating to him that you were also close. “Yeah? Me too, baby.”

After a minute of passionate thrusting and bouncing, Jungkook’s body suddenly tensed, reaching the edge. He released a warm flood of cum with a loud “fuck” coming out of his mouth.

With a grind of your hips, a moment later, you also reached a pinnacle, your breath hitching and your eyes closed. You got off of Jungkook and laid next to him on the bed, both of you still trying to come down from the high you experienced.

He slowly stood up, grabbed the bloodstained towel he laid under you to put it in the washing basket, leaning down to plant a kiss on your lips. “You did so good, you know that?”

You simply smiled sheepishly, also getting up to clean yourself and pee. When you came back from Jungkook’s extravagant bathroom, he was lying on the bed now wearing boxers with an eager smile. “Come here.”

You obliged with swaying hips, your naked figure waltzing over to his king-size bed, laying your head on his chest. “Today was amazing, Jungkook. Thank you for everything.”

He held your hand in his, kissing your head gently. “Baby, that was nothing; I wanna thank you for everything. It’s really special to me, what you did.”

“It was easy, being with you and all,” you admitted in a soft voice. “You know, I feel surprisingly very comfortable with you, Jungkook; it’s weird.”

That made him chuckle; his chest left a vibration. “I think I’m gonna take that as a compliment…?”

“You should.”

“I don’t think this needs to be said, but I hope you know this means we’re together now,” Jungkook started, now looking deeply into your eyes from above. “Like an item, a thing, boyfriend and girlfriend, soon to be wed, a coup—”

You stopped him with a giggle, laying a loving hand on his chest. “I get it, Jungkook, and I know.”

“Good.” He tightened his grip on your shoulder, smirking as he looked down at your naked body. “Next time, I wanna cum inside; so you better get started with birth control.”

“Jungkook!!”

——-

i hope whoever reads this enjoyed it🫶🏽🫶🏽 btw the poem is completely AI generated😭 i really wanna make this sort of a series like write a bunch of different scenarios for this couple; pls tell me your opinion on that.

[manicandobsessive]

You’re my lady, I’m your fool | L.H.

Summary: Logan missed his girl.

Warnings: fluff fluff and more fluff, the man is lovesick, cursing, pet names, SUGGESTIVE, mdni please, reader is shorter than logan, based on a wham song, not really proofread im lazy, kind of rushed ending but its still cute

WC: 1.5k+

I had a vision after listening to this song and I wrote this in approximately 1 hour. I’m a wham girlie.

Home. You. Dinner.

That was the mantra Logan chose to repeat in order to remain sane on his drive home. Pedal to the medal, at least 30 over the speed limit at all times. The truck rumbled and groaned with the weight of years of memories and use under him, but he continued his trek home regardless.

Gonna have to change the fuckin’ oil soon, too. He thought. The mere inconvenience adding to his already ever-present irritation.

Every douchebag in Canada had decided today was the day to test his patience. From his dumbfuck coworkers at the lumber yard to the asshole currently riding his tail. He’d had enough. He wanted to be home with you. His girl. His sweetheart, angel, darling, the list goes on. The thought of you was the one string pulling him back to reality. The tether to his life he cherished with every bone in his aching body. He truly didn’t know where he would be if he didn’t have you.

Probably jail.

But you taught him the beauty of kindness. Yours being a beacon of hope for him when he accidentally spilled beer on you at a dingy bar. He’d been staring at you anyways, but humiliating himself wasn’t on the agenda for the night. Yet you didn’t scoff at him, didn’t look at him sideways, not even a curse under your breath. You didn’t bat a fucking eyelash and without skipping a beat, you asked if he was okay. The first example of many showing your unwavering selflessness. It was admirable, you were the better half of the pair of you- in his opinion. He often found himself frustrated with your lack of regard towards yourself, brushing it off like nothing. He’d tried time and time again to tell you to take care of yourself, not to worry about him. And you always, always told him the same fucking thing:

“Can’t control it, Lo. Just care about you.”

Hugging him tightly around the waist, resting your chin on his pecs and looking up at him with that sweet, sweet smile. Your bright eyes and soft face making him huff as he instinctively moved his own arms to hold you closer to him. He never could find himself angry with you.

He reminisced on those memories often. On top of plenty of other moments with you that brought a pleasant smile to his face.

He had no idea that accident at the bar almost 3 years ago would bring him to this point, but fuck if he isn’t overjoyed that it did.

Love was never on Logan’s radar. Written off as another extra thing he didn’t need to bother with. He was certain that life would never be for someone like him- that he’d never find someone to accept him for what he is. For who he is. And you did without a second thought. You’d blown life right back into him, showing him what real happiness is. He swears that when he met you the sun shone brighter each day. Something you would always roll your eyes at, calling him cheesy. But he wholeheartedly believed it- which is saying a lot coming from a man who no longer believes in much else.

The soft glow of your shared cabin came into view, practically calling to him by name. The visual had already calmed his racing heart, knowing you were waiting for him. Probably in one of his flannels and old socks. Your hair flowing freely and your entire demeanor relaxed. It was his favorite look on you, other than when you were begging for him, caged between his thick arms. An endeavor for later, to say the least.

He slammed the truck door shut, moving with a newfound purpose to the front door. He kicked off his boots, leaving them on the front porch. If you took care of the house, the least he could do was be mindful of it.

And laundry, he knew you fucking hated laundry.

The door swung open. Logan made a silent note in his head to oil the hinges of that thing, the creaking got on his nerves.

He’d heard faint music from outside, the notes only getting louder the closer he got to where he needed to be- near you. He knew you were cooking, he could smell the various seasonings and vegetables. But most of all the music. You always had something playing, but it was only ever this loud and upbeat when you were in the kitchen. He’d found you dancing and singing enough times to know what the deal was.

And tonight was no different.

He knew you loved this song, something your dad had you listen to as a kid. A song you grew up on and still loved to present day. He was never a big fan of 80s pop, but whatever you enjoyed he was right there with you. Bopping his head along or tapping his foot lightly, it always made you giggle.

He leant against the wall, watching as you moved with ease throughout the kitchen. How you weren’t an extraterrestrial being was beyond him. He swore you had a halo sometimes.

The grace of your smile, the lightness in your steps, even your voice as you sung along to the music entranced him. Like a siren call. He made his way into the room, smiling when you weren’t even phased in the slightest at him catching you mid concert.

He was however surprised when you pulled him in by his arms, swinging them back and forth as you laughed. He was so caught up in your smile he didn’t even register you telling him to dance with you. Slowly but surely he gave in, a deep, warm chuckle erupting from his chest as you jumped and sang with the energy of a kid on Christmas morning. Your soft hands and sweet scent making him all the more taken with you, if that was even possible.

He spun you, lifting you off the ground in his arms as you let out a squeal.

“Logan!”

He put you down, not bothering to even try removing his arms from your waist as he looked down at you with the most lovesick expression on Earth. Scratch that, every universe. There wasn’t a single one where he hadn’t been head over heels in love with you.

“Hi baby.” He smirked when your face flushed as it always did when he called you that. He loved seeing it, it gave him butterflies. Even after all this time.

You slowly inched your arms around his neck, entangling your fingers with the hair on the base of his neck. He hummed and buried his face into your own, making you giggle. He pressed feather-light kisses on your neck and jaw before pulling back to look down at you once again.

You sung along to the rest of the song, Logan even joining in for one part:

“You’re my lady, I’m your fool.”

He sang, making you smile as you pecked his lips and he drew you in for a much deeper kiss.

“How was work?” You asked as he rested his forehead against yours. He groaned, not bothering to ruin the moment with the laundry list of complaints he’d had about people.

“Hell.” He simply replied, “Missed ya too much.” He mumbled against your lips, kissing you yet again.

You hummed in contentment against his mouth, pulling him impossibly closer. He was so intoxicating you nearly fell to the floor every time he kissed you. Always making you forget your name with the way his lips and tongue moved against your own.

He slowly walked you backwards, not breaking the kiss as he led you to your bedroom. He’d needed to show you how much he missed you since he left this morning. He was a lovesick fuck, and was damn proud of it.

You obliged without hesitation, allowing him to take control and softly rest you on your back on the bed. He kissed your eyelids, cheeks, nose, forehead. Anywhere that was accessible to him, he worshipped it- worshipped you. Your breath hitched, arching into him. You’d nearly forgotten you were in the middle of cooking when he came home. The realization hitting you in the face as you squirmed.

“Lo, dinner.” You huffed, trying- and failing- to push him away so you could finish cooking. Of course, you couldn’t fight off a man with a metal skeleton, let alone want to. You needed him, desperately. But you also wanted to make sure the house didn’t go up in flames.

“Logan.” You groaned, he growled against your skin. Pinning you down effectively as he continued his trail of kisses down your body.

“Logan Howlett.” You said with all the authority you could muster up in the moment. He stopped, lifting his head from your stomach and looking at you with a raised brow and that stupidly handsome smirk.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I gotta finish dinner.” You tried to look as stern as you could, but the way his rough hands were gently stroking your thighs made it impossible. Not to mention the look on his face. You knew him well enough to recognize it. Whatever he was about to say would solidify the one thing you knew: you weren’t leaving this bed anytime soon.

“I’ll cook. Jus’ lemme have this, sweetheart. I missed ya.”

[kupidachillea]

Could we have more Olympians x Reader? Maybe some slight nsfw and perhaps some time with Apollo?

Olympians x You (Hcs or imagines )

Author note: I usually do SFW but that doesn’t mean I don’t occasionally do NSFW if it’s light or not full on smut. I don’t think I’m brave enough for that and if I did I’d make a separate blog for it😭🙏 but I hope you enjoy

TW (trigger warning):This may have a few Yandere themes in it. And while the Olympians themselves aren’t really yanderes- they do share similar tendencies considering their myths. Please note that this isn’t completely accurate to their mythology- but it’s just a bit of fun so please take no offence and be nice in the comments.

CW (content warning)⚠️: readers either18+ (to read this I mean). This work contains NSFW themes, mentions of nudity, molesting and sexual harassment and assault, non-con, dubcon, toxic behaviour. General (hinted) Yandere behaviour, feeding of bodily fluids (blood[?])Reader’s discretion is advised.

⚠️ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE ⚠️

🏺- You had been growing use to it..if that was the right term. Perhaps not ‘use to’ it but more along the lines of growing more accustomed to it. Being on Olympus wasn’t exactly all fun and games.

🪡- But of course you weren’t allowed to complain about it. You certainly weren’t allowed to complain when one of them would suddenly just pick you up and take you to their chambers. You already knew what that meant.

🏺- You’d find yourself pinned under one more more god, their hands caressing your body, their teeth leaving deep marks that you wouldn’t dream of calling ‘love bites’ there wasn’t nothing ‘loving’ about those bites. No matter how much they preach and repeat it.

🪡- Some days it would be one god after the other, other times you’d get a break. But there’s only some much a human can go through. One moment you’d be in the garden or somewhere with Hermes, his lips on your nether regions, sucking and licking at you while another moment you’d be bounced up and down on Ares while Aphrodite made out with you.

🏺- It made your head spin at times. Most times you were scared, who wouldn’t? It’s not like the men here had manhoods that looked anything like human..maybe an enough to look familiar in shape but still. Zeus was one such example, you actually remember begging him not to go through with it- afraid that the thing between his legs would split you in half but he would only laugh and hike your legs over his shoulders and whisper: “It’s okay little mortal.. we’ll do this as much times as we need for you to get accustomed to my size..”

🪡- Those words alone sent a shiver down your spine at the time. After that you weren’t able to walk properly for a few days. Not that the gods care, most of them found it funny. To see their little pet struggling to walk after such intense intimacy. “Poor thing, can’t even walk properly.” Poseidon would coo while watching you carefully ease yourself into the pool of water.

🏺- The sight alone made him excited and decided at that moment he wanted to help you ‘relax’…it wasn’t very relaxing to you. You would whimper as he sunk under the water and immediately attracted his lips to your hole.

🪡- Of course there were many instances like this but there were times where they did leave you alone and you did get time to yourself. Today was one of those days.

🏺- You were sat outside in the garden, fiddling with flowers and and grass blades. It was quiet for awhile and you actually had time to reflect on everything you’ve experienced. Sometimes it was good, other times it was bad..very bad and thought the Olympians tried to make you feel comfortable, you think that they don’t necessarily understand the word.

🪡- While you were thinking, you didn’t notice someone approaching you until a shadow of a man was cast over your body, blocking out the sun. You already knew it was one of the Olympians but you didn’t know which one until he spoke and that’s when you turned around.

🏺- “Ah, there you are, mortal..” Apollo spoke, a bright smile on his face as he crouched down next to you. “Relaxing in the garden I see..” He would mutter and you immediately got an off vibe..he wants something. As most of the gods did when they approached or summoned you, regardless you nodded to his statement as you fiddled with a petal of one of the asters that were growing in the garden.

🪡- Apollo smiled in response before speaking once more. “That’s good, that’s good..but perhaps you could relax with me? We could go to my chambers where no one would bother us…” The golden haired god spoke, his voice smooth as he held your chin between his larger fingers. You tried your best not to seem apprehensive at his request but you couldn’t exactly deny him..could you? You opened your mouth to try and voice your opinion but Apollo spoke before you.

🏺- “Please, my dear?” He pouted a bit, trying to make you agree and after a mental back and forth you reluctantly agreed. This made Apollo beam and he wasted no time in picking you up and dashing over to his quarters.

☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️

☀️- After Apollo got you situated and ‘comfortable’ in his room, he laid on the bed in the spot next to you.

🎵- You were quiet as you fiddled with your chiton and he tilted his head curiously. “Relax, my dear. It’s just us..” He spoke.. you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t the slightest bit charming. Apollo would shuffle closer to you and wrap his arms around your body. His fingers moving to caress your skin causing you to tense up a bit.

☀️- Apollo figured you’d still be apprehensive, but he thought he could get you to loosen up a bit. And so he continued to gently feel up your body, trying to coax you to relax a bit.

🎵- You were going to protest about the touching but Apollo quickly covered your lips with his own. He did this on purpose..wanting to silence your words that might ruin the moment. Your eyes widened and on instinct you tried to push him away, but he kept himself firmly against you. Kissing your lips and letting out a soft groan as his hand slipped under your chiton.

☀️- You obviously flinched, letting out a muffled squeak that caused the deity of light to chuckle. He could tell you were starting to slowly give in and kiss back, even if he could still feel the anxious beats of your heart. He decided to take things a step further.

🎵- Pinning you down to his bed and and moving his fingers to your hole. Teasingly rubbing his thumb over the opening as he moved his lips over to your neck, placing gently kisses as you whimpered. He then slowly fed you one of his fingers and bit his bottom lip at how your body tensed and gripped his index finger. He could never get tired of the way your body felt.

☀️- “There you go…that’s it…~” He would purr before adding another finger and scissoring your entrance then slowly pumping his fingers in and out. Curling them and stroking the spot inside you he knew would make you cry out. Your back arched a you whined, calling out his name as your hands immediately reached to grab for something..anything.

🎵- Apollo grinned and kissed your lips once more..adding a third fingers and moving them at a steady pace..not hard enough to hurt but not too slow either. All this was getting to him too but he wanted to focus on you mainly. For now at least…

☀️- He had you twitching and shivering from all the pleasure and the deity had drawn a few climaxes from you as well. You were panting and out of breath by the time he was done and he finally gave you a break..removing his fingers from your women out hole as he peppered your cheek with kisses.

🎵- “Mmm..such a pretty mortal..you did so well…you deserve a reward..” He would say before firmly pressing his lips against yours once more. At first you thought it was just a normal passionate kiss..but you suddenly felt a liquid like substance run down your tongue and down your throat.

☀️- Your eyes slightly widened as a slight burning feeling started to engulf your body. Your hands immediately reaching to try and push Apollo away, but he just groaned softly and caged your body between him and the bed. His tongue running over yours, sucking on the wet muscle and coating it with more of the golden liquid..

🎵- The more of this liquid he fed you the more your body started to feel like it was burning from the inside out. Your heart beating faster as the substance dribbled and leaked from the corner of your mouth. Tears burning in your eyes as you ingested every last drop he gave you.

☀️- Soon enough your heart stopped as you let out a muffled cry while Apollo gently rubbed your hips..pulling his lips away from yours and whispering that you’d be okay. He held you in his arms as you laid ‘dead’ for a minute or so before your heart started to beat once more; and Apollo smiled.

🎵- It was done..he had fed you his immortal blood..his ichor and now you’d never die. Or maybe you did..your old self..but that doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you’d never be able to escape them ever again..not even in death…they made sure of that.

Author note: Oof, sorry this took a long while. I’ll admit I wasn’t very focused and I procrastinated a bit. But on top of that I had things at home doing. Though I’m glad I finished it, usually if things take this long I like to post screenshots to show ppl I haven’t forgotten. I was just so slow to get this out. Sorry again but I hope this is to your liking, Anon! And to everyone else.

[liloinkoink]

one thing i think people get wrong about Martyn in the life series is he really isn’t loyal

like yeah, we all know him as the Hand, following the Red King as far as their shared grave, but that is… truly the outlier and not the norm with him

i mean, let’s take a brief look at other seasons. i can’t speak to Secret Life, as it came out when i was incredibly busy and i haven’t yet had time to watch it, but what about the others?

he won Limited Life because he’s a chronic traitor! he betrayed Scott, his ally for the whole season, so that he could win, and said he’d been planning it / wanting to do it the whole session. spent a whole season protecting and helping Scott, and laughed in his face to betray as soon as he saw a shot to do so

Double Life was a whole mess of Martyn and weird loyalties. just one example: he spent all of the first session hanging out with Pearl in favor of even looking for either of their soulmates, with no regard for how he’d been putting his soulmate in danger. when their soulmates dumped them due to being ignored all session and stormed off, he dumped Pearl just because. one session in and he’s betrayed both his soulmate and his day one alliance!

Last Life he teamed with the Southlanders and then made the Shadow Alliance in secret, so he was on two teams and never truly committed to either. he tried to kill Grian basically immediately when he got boogeyman, for example, and in the final fight he tried to lure Ren to himself by offering to team and then tried to blow Ren up

of course, i’m simplifying and ignoring a lot. he doesn’t earn the loyal reputation for nothing. he does a lot of things to help his teammates, like giving a life to Ren in Last Life, trying all season to win Cleo over for all of Double Life, or working to protect Scott for all of Limited Life. it’s not like Martyn doesn’t play the part of a loyal friend well, but, well.

the thing about Martyn is that he’s selfish. he’s basically always going to prioritize his own survival over anything else. he’s never going to roll over and die, especially not for another person. he’s good at looking loyal, because having allies will help you survive, and he knows making outright enemies is a bad idea. he knows he can’t make it obvious he’s a traitor, because then he’ll certainly be killed. but, when it comes down to the wire, he will generally bail at the last minute to save his own skin rather than protecting the people around him. when his loyalty is tested, nine times out of ten, he will not only fail, but do so completely without remorse

it doesnt take a lot to become Martyn’s ally, and once you’ve got a foot in the door, he will take his allegiances seriously (at least, to a point). but it takes effort to really earn Martyn’s trust. and, even when it looks like you have, there’s no guarantee he won’t yank the rug out from under you if he decides having you alive is more detrimental to his survival than seeing you dead

and yes, you can especially see all of this in Third Life. Martyn was absolutely not instantly ride or die for Ren—for a lot of the earlier episodes, he won’t say he’s on Ren’s team or that he lives at Ren’s base, and often tells other players he’s simply Ren’s employee rather than teammate and that he’s wandering or homeless. he trusts Ren so little due to Ren’s inability to keep a secret or stand up for himself that even Ren acknowledges in the third session that Martyn is probably going to leave him and find someone else. Martyn’s loyalty had to be earned, and it very nearly wasn’t. if Ren had taken a session more to grow a spine, Martyn probably would have left

but Ren became an ally that Martyn could rely on, who could stand up for himself and keep secrets. it became more beneficial to Martyn’s survival to have Ren around, so he stayed with Ren for the rest of the season, and committed hard to their kingdom. Ren earns Martyn’s trust by becoming a more dependable ally, and because of that, Ren earns Martyn’s loyalty…. probably

(half related, bc i want it in the post and i don’t know where to put it: after the execution, two sessions after Ren officially earns Martyn’s loyalty, Ren admits to being genuinely convinced Martyn was going to take him out of the series as soon as Ren gave him the chance!)

because yes, even here, even after Ren earns his trust and Ren trusts Martyn to execute him and they become King and Hand, Martyn was okay with killing Ren to save himself. Martyn has said he was going to betray Ren in the final session of Third Life. his entire plan was that when he and Ren hit the final 5, he was going to kill Ren. end Red Winter, usher in Red Spring. even the most loyal version of Martyn was a traitor!

now, you can decide for yourself if you believe he could have actually gone through with this—he and Ren were 6th and 7th out of the game, after all. maybe he wouldn’t have been able to steel himself. maybe his loyalty would have, for once, been too strong to kill Ren.

but it’s very possible that even the most loyal version of Martyn—the version of Martyn who has created this “loyal” image of Martyn in fanon—was only loyal because he died too soon to show his true colors

[elodieunderglass]

for the horse asks: appaloosa?

Appaloosa - What's your favorite horse color(s)?

I don’t really have one but I LOVE when horses and ponies are what they’re supposed to be!

I’m also a huge fan of the primitive markings, and general Lascaux cave horse appearance.

So like I wouldn’t say flaxen chestnut is my favorite AT ALL, but the Haflinger!! . yes you are a cobby little horse with a big butt that needs to be a flaxen chestnut!! and everyone understands this. Perfect animal. No need to track changes. Also I do love when a horse has a bit of texture in their mane and tail, so respect to Haflingers for being the rare wavy-haired horsie. I don’t even like blondes so you see what I mean here about it just being the pure synergy of intention and form and style, the Haflinger just is perfectly complete.

And then a brunblakk fjord horse. The mealy muzzle. The dorsal stripe. Black ear tips. Someone from 20,000 years ago is grasping my hand across space and time and we are crying together about how perfect a thick little horsie can get. Granted the fjords always have the weirdest haircuts in the world, but you can see exactly why. This horse is so perfectly what it’s supposed to be that you can’t resist scrungling it a little bit. Also another animal that IS its name like: all Norwegian Fjords LOOK like the breed name is Norwegian Fjord, and they ARE all named things like Freya. As they should be. This is an animal that is exactly what it should be.

You know how horse people compliment each other’s horses by saying they have a kind eye? It’s hard not to have a Kind Eye if you are a brunblakk Norwegian Fjord.

And of course, my baby, my darling, my moorland mousie, the feral shaggy brown/bay with mealy markings that is the Exmoor Pony. You look at this tubby beastie and you say YES. YES YOU ARE BORN TO BE A LITTLE BEASTIE ENCOUNTERED SUDDENLY ON A MISTY MOOR . The sculpting of the contour colours! Some sculpture artist would spend hours with an airbrush trying to do that! and they just wake up in the morning , eyeliner: on, eyeshadow: on, lipstick: on, cheeks: contoured, muzzle: mealy, dapples subtle, ready to go. Can’t even see their eyes half the time, but underneath 25 pounds of luscious pelted mane they’re wearing natural mascara. And for what? Living full time on rocks in the rain, baby!! This is a cave painting horse and it always will be!

The reverse of that of course is horses who Shouldn’t Be That Color. For example I am a little bit upset by this chestnut Shire, who isn’t a flaxen chestnut and probably should be. What are you doing baby? You need some leg markings sweetheart. Can we just dye your mane and tail black maybe, you have bay energy. Ughhhhh I’m trying not to be prescriptive. Ughhhh all horses are beautiful and beauty standards are fake but ———— - sweet child we HAVE to style you somehow!!!! You are a Shire!!!!! WHAT IS THIS??

And I love - LOVE! - a grulla/grullo. Obvious reasons: I like primitive markings, and I have the aesthetic taste of a small child. Who doesn’t secretly love a deviantart sparklehorse?

but I will be the first to admit that it is a razor’s edge between a really lovely grulla horse who reaches back to touch our shared history and knowledge of ourselves, an unbroken thread of beauty that should be painted in a cave under an ancient mountain, like a jewel of the earth: and a necromantic vessel that was bred to encourage possession by evil ghosts, to be harvested regularly and sold at retail prices by some midwestern white woman as part of some tortuous work-from-home scheme. And I do understand this. I know this about myself and about grullas. Like, this one is a horse that probably shouldn’t - we probably shouldn’t have done this. You know?

Do not ask about cremellos.

[litsenn]

Astarion craves connection

Lately, I've been thinking an awful lot about Astarion's desperate need to bond with others, especially in Act 1. Not just to seduce you and have sex with you, not just because he wants to secure his place in the party, but because he wants - and surely needs - to connect with people after two centuries of loneliness.

I’m talking about genuine interactions with other people, without the pressure of Cazador’s will, and with interlocutors who are neither targets nor threats. Of course, sometimes it’s difficult to say if he’s only pretending or if he’s genuinely trying to bond with you, but the more I think about it, the more I see it. Just think about all the discussions you can have with him in Act 1. He's certainly the companion with the most evening interactions, and I think there's a reason for it, especially when you know that he's been so lonely for so long. And it's also quite striking given the fact that one could expect him to be much more wary, maybe even paranoid somehow (like Shadowheart), but on the contrary, he shows a real capacity to open up, to share and to relate. It's awkward sometimes, but he's trying, even if he doesn't really understand it himself.

So I wanted to look back at some interactions in act 1 and to have a closer look at them (in no particular order). And it's going to be long. And chaotic.

Take the first night in camp for instance; he opens up about not feeling comfortable sleeping in the woods. Yes, he remains quite cryptic, he doesn't tell you how terrified he is (you can't expect him to at this point), but still... he doesn't know you and yet tells you he's not feeling comfortable here. You don't even have to ask him.

He could have kept it to himself, he could have preferred to let you believe that he's fine.

Nothing forces him to tell you about it. And yet he decides, against all odds, to let you know that he's not so fine. It's implicit and subtle, yes, but it's there. He tries to reach out to someone. He's not good at it, but that's a meaningful step.

And take the stargazing scene, which, to me, is when he really decides to go for his “nice little plan”. But whether this is it or not, he is lying down and stargazing in the middle of camp, and I can't stress this enough: in the middle of camp. He’s not sitting apart, seeking calm and solitude. He obviously expects someone (you) to come and talk to him.

Another meaningful example is his confession if you go to the Underdark before the bite night. In this case, he will decide to tell you he’s a vampire. Nothing forces him to tell you. He admits it simply because he wants to be honest about it – he feels that, at this point, you won’t let him down. He wants to connect with you, despite the risks of such a revelation.

And look at his face when you say it's alright: he’s so relieved! Because you don't drive a stake through his heart, yes, but also because he knows now that you trust him. That he is ok. That he can count on you.

As for the bite scene, it's a little more complicated: He's famished and he wants to know if he can bite a sentient being now that Cazador can't control him. Of course, doing it without your consent is a terrible move (I tend to believe his idea of personal boundaries is quite fucked up at this point, but that's a topic for a another post).

But if you accept him as a vampire, he trusts you to trust him enough to ask for a snack. Which, to me, is not only related to his burning hunger. This mutual trust, again, is something he desperately craves. Because it means your partnership is not superficial. And when you let him bite you, you prove him that trust can exist between the two of you (even if he's already planning to manipulate you, because people are complicated and full of contradictions).

Then you have the scene when he asks you who you'd like to bite. IMO, it's one of the most relevant scenes concerning his need for connection. Of course he’s flirting a little, he probably has already been scheming his nice little plan. But come on, if it was only about seducing you, I think he would have chosen another topic for the conversation… I mean, honestly, you don’t usually flirt by speaking about other people’s blood (except for all the Durges around, but he doesn’t really now about that yet). 

No, beyond the flirting bits, this man is desperate to talk about his newfound freedom! for the first time in two hundred years, he can feed on all kind of beasts, whenever he wants! Of course he's excited and want to ramble about it! Imagine you've been feeding on rotten and unseasoned garbage for weeks and suddenly you can taste all kind of different spicy food, wouldn't you want to share that experience with someone? To ask them what kind of food they prefer? To imagine how this or that would taste?

Astarion is curious, he says it himself, and he wants to share his curiosity with you. Because he appreciates your company. Because he wants to share something with you, the open-minded companion who accepts him as he is. Astarion is not just teasing you, he's enjoying speaking to you "in the spirit of theoretical questions".

By the way, if you refuse to have this talk, he disapproves. Understandably!

You just turned down his first attempt to connect, to have a playful conversation, without any pressure. Of course he is disappointed! He thought you'd understand after you let him dine on you.

But if you play along, he approves whoever you pick, and gives a little comment of his own according to the companion you choose. And each answer reveals an attempt at bonding, it's always positive, even when he wouldn't have picked the same companion.

Even if you choose him.

And even if he’s already performing for his nice little plan, don't forget that it’s the first time he can really choose and decide to flirt and seduce. He feels somehow that he has to seduce you, because that's how he learned to survive, but nobody is actually forcing him to, for the first time in 200 years. So many reasons which make me believe that this discussion isn’t a performance, not completely at least, and that it's not just about his plan. It's about bonding and having a little fun.

By the way, during that scene, he calls you a friend. Is it genuine? Maybe not at this point, but I take it as wishful thinking. Whether he acknowledges it or not, he wants friends, or at least a friendly interaction.

He used the words 'friends' before, in an even more sarcastic way: The morning after the bite night, when you decide to keep him in the party after the revelation. Here, he’s not talking about you in particular, but about the whole group, and half of them are particularly wary of him, some of them are lowkey threatening him (and right before this, he told you he was scared anyone would turn against him - he still is). Without you, they would have at best kicked him out of camp.

This "friend" is ironical because none of them is seeing Astarion as a friend right now. So he deflates it with irony. Likewise, when he asks you to sleep with him the first time before the party, the “trusting friends” is ironical since you just called him out on his potential bullshit - and he knows it. It's a defence mechanism he uses each time someone sees him as a threat.

There's another "friend" in Act 1. During the "drunk scene".

This part sounds much more genuine to me. He's intoxicated, and he greets you with a "my friend" and a little laugh that makes him sound very giddy about it. If you listen to it, it doesn’t sound like he’s bitter, or manipulating.

Even the dev notes indicate that he must look “very happy".

At this point he really begins to trust you. It seems to make him happy to believe that you could really become friends. And being intoxicated helps him drop the mask a little, he's more himself: Playful, silly, displaying a sheer need to talk with someone. (look at this silly goose)

But being intoxicated also helps him open up about his past, about the torments. About his bitterness and his belief that power is the only way to be safe. About his biased vision of the world, of heroes, of power structures and responsibilities.

IMO he really needs someone he can talk to, someone who would listen and understand, if he's not sure how to do it, if he can do it, if you can be that person. He's "drunk", he needs to vent, and he vents to you.

This need to communicate, to connect with someone is even clearer when you play Durge, since he seems to relate a little more to your character. First things he tells you after you recruited him shows that he observes you and notices something is off, but it seems to be comforting to him.

As if he was thinking "thank goodness I'm not the only one who's a mess. Maybe they'll understand." And a few days letter, he comments on your state.

Not only he worries about you, but he also wants to understand what's happening to you. And if that's not a proof that this man wants to connect with others, I don't know what you need.

He has a hard time acknowledging it himself, with that little "do take care of yourself" which sounds a little awkward. And it makes sense, that must not be the kind of things he's used to say to anyone. Hence the silly little bow.

According to your answer, he can also appear to be very supportive, telling you to not fear who you are, accepting your quirks just (like you accepted his). Partners in crime. He's not alone in this.

And don't get me started on the fact that he doesn't refuse to tell you about his past. Despite his little remark on you insisting “about exhuming the past”, you don’t actually have to insist to make him talk about it. Comparing to Shadowheart, he willingly tells you about Cazador, about him being slave and very soon after you learned he's a vampire. You just have to ask, he opens up. He complains a little but he talks, for the first time in so long he's found someone he can talk to, someone who's willing to listen. And the more he trusts you, the more he tells you, without you having to insist.

I could go on for ages with examples: How he approves if you decide to tell Eithel about the tadpole in the grove. He doesn’t trust the old lady, but he clearly wants the two of you to have fun.  

How he confesses that you are "his first". I don't think he's lying about it. After all, being completely unexperimented in term of biting people, it's not exactly the image of "the sexy vampire" that he usually tries to display.

Not to mention that he seems quite embarrassed about it. His body language gives him away. He's looking away, clearing his throat.

And why would he tell you if not to bond with you?

It's not about seducing you, it's about opening up a little and talk about his experience. He's already trying to be honest with you, because it's the first time in so long that he can allow himself to be honest. His face is particularly vulnerable when he admits it after he killed you during that first snack.

Should I also mention the fact that he never installs his tent in a lonely corner like Shadowheart or Lae'zel or even Wyll sometimes do? He's always, at least, close to another companion, if not in the middle of camp. Of course, it could be a question of feeling safer if the others are around, but I nonetheless think it's quite telling about his need to belong within this little group of weirdos. Likewise, a certain number of banters in Act 1 indicate that he does want to have innocent interactions with the group.

And finally, let's go back to the beginning, when you first meet him. As soon as he realises you're not an enemy, he drops his guard, relieved to have found another survivor. He obviously didn't expect you to invite him to join - it didn't even cross his mind because who would want him as part of a group? - but he quickly accepts to join "the herd". Not being alone anymore could be a good idea, right?

You could expect that after two hundred years of slavery and torment, one would be much more wary, keeping to oneself, keeping their distance with the others. But not Astarion, no. Because whether he admits it or not, he craves companionship. He craves attention - not for his looks, but for his individuality. He craves acceptance.

He joins you, first installs his tent in the centre of camp, he makes himself useful for the group, he wants to talk to you almost every night, he tries to bond with you in the most awkward ways and shares his enthusiasm for his newfound freedom. Yes, he wants to seduce you to make sure you won't let him down, but beyond that, there's a deep need for bonding, and to feel like he belongs somewhere. And if at first he probably thinks he only belongs in your bed as a good fuck, through all your interactions he begins to understand that he belongs beside you as a partner, as a friend and simply, as a person. He needs emotional support, he finds it in you, and even finds himself capable of giving emotional support. You trust him, and this trust is precious because it means you see him as a valuable person, not just a Swiss knife or a pretty thing. And it means he can trust you too. And it also means that, maybe, the world isn't as cruel as he was made to believe.

[postmoe]

In the Next Moment:

Yandere/Alpha Gojo Satoru x Omega Reader

I can't even tell you how long ago I started this. I had no idea how to end it and I took away and added a bunch of things haha. Here is your alpha Gojo Satoru, here to save the day and take you for himself!

omegas are lesser creatures, familial abuse, self-deprecation, like your father in this is literal scum

.

What kind of God deals a life like this? Where status is given the moment you’re born. Where you can be cast away at birth and shoved into a home just for having the wrong scent. It used to be that families would wait until puberty before they knew what breed their child would be. Now? Now they have the technology to make accurate guesses. Not one hundred percent, but, accurate enough.

              In your case, call it lucky or not, your family didn’t send you away to a home. Omega’s aren’t completely useless, and can fetch quite a high penny on the market. Every day you were reminded of your failures as their daughter, that being bred by them should have produced an alpha.

              “This is all your fault,” your mother would say to your father, “Your cousin is an omega, it runs in your bloodline!”

              “How was I supposed to know?! No one ever spoke of them I had no idea until we did the test!” He would shout back.

              It’s a common argument you heard growing up. One that would seep into the marrow of your bones and claw its way into your dreams. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Even though they argued with each other, at the end of the day it came out to you being wrong. You were a curse.

              Eventually, your mother left. Being an alpha with you in the home, it was irredeemable. She had not bonded with an omega like her DNA screamed, your father a Beta and those relationships were never to last if an Omega came into the picture. Just an example of the homewrecker in your genes.

              He would drink and smoke on the couch all day and night. “We had such a happy family, such high hopes for you…” Another swig of the bottle in his hand, “It’s your job to take care of us now. Your mother did everything. Go make some money and bring it back home.”

              Quivering, afraid to even speak in front of him, you had to ask, “B-But what if people find out I’m a- AH!”

              You cower as the bottle smashes against the brick wall next to your head, glass and liquor breaking around while your father stands and screams, “You stupid bitch! Go get blockers, fuck! How hard is it to come up with things on your own? You’re so fucking pathetic, stupid fucking omega,” he continues to grumble as he storms past you, “Clean up this fucking mess.”

              Of course, you’ve thought about running away, thought about life outside of your home. The realism of it is not pretty, though. You’ve seen how omegas are treated on the streets if they get caught, they’re not allowed in the city because their scent can be such a disturbance. You have to be really taken care of to live amongst others. If you weren’t so rare then it wouldn’t be an issue, but unfortunately omegas can’t be shared around to every alpha.

              Getting blockers is probably the hardest job. Most doctors don’t want to sell them to you unless you have a good reason for being an omega, ie; rich spouse, breeding bitch, selling, etc. Anything on the black market is a gamble between being really good or really shit. Eventually, another omega you came across in passing had recommended a ‘hole in the wall’ doctor. They hide down an alleyway in the slums of the city but are open to helping omegas. When you went there it had ignited your fear and you started releasing poor, omega pheromones. Many, hungry looks your way were cast, though thankfully you made it out in one piece.

              Now you were left to try and survive in the wild.

.

“Yo!” Your head shoots up from the stall oven, seeing a familiar head of white hair and blindfolded head.

              Honestly, you were shocked, once people found out the ‘lovely’ attendant at the crepe stall was an omega, they generally never returned. “Ah,” you try not to gape at him, “You’re back. You didn’t come with your, um, students?”

              It’s been a little over a year now that you’ve manned the crepe stall in a deserted park. You think that’s why your boss put you here, because not many people came by so business wasn’t that great; it also gave him a good excuse to berate you when you didn’t meet income quota. Earlier this week you were met with a unique set of customers, one of them being this man and then two younger boys and a girl to whom he introduced as his students – very proud of them. In that same interaction, whilst the students were enjoying each other’s crepes and you were making his, he had suddenly leaned in and inhaled a few times, sniffing you and grinning cheekily, “You’re an omega, aren’t ya?” It shocked you because you shouldn’t be smelling like anything right now, the sugary crepes usually enough to hide and scent that seems to waft from you. Now, he had returned alone, acting as if you were buddies, “My dear students are in a fierce battle! I have made some time to see my favourite crepe omega.”

              His words were too loud, you had to look around in fear that maybe he was trying to let others know, trying to get you boycott. However, no one was there. Was he trying to bait you? Maybe you should just go along with it, “Did you really like them that much?”

              He perked up, arms open in a welcoming stance, “Of course! The food, the chef, both are a delicious snack~.”

              Flirting?! Definitely a joke.

              Your shocked expression must’ve spoke volumes as he laughed at you, wiping a faux tear from his blindfolded eyes, “Don’t be so unsure of yourself. Surely a treat like you gets hit on all the time.”

              “Are you hearing yourself,” you blurt out without thinking. How could he be so casual about this if he weren’t planning something sinister. All the memories of manipulation and abuse from strangers in your life come flooding back, your body subconsciously recoiling in on itself in defence. Your voice is meeker now, “Please, if you’re going to do something just get over with it.”

              The man’s footsteps sound calm as he strides towards you, his hand reaching forward. You cringe in on yourself, awaiting a slap or a hit, only for your body to be taken over by surprise when he speaks, his index finger pointing towards the flat stove-surface of the kiosk, “Your crepe is burning.”

              “Oh no!” You squeal, quickly going to flip it off the surface and onto a serviette. Tears start to collect in your eyes as you think of all the different ways you’ll be punished, “Shit shit shit. He’s going to know! He always knows and I can’t hide it, I’m screwed-“

              Silence engulfs you as you watch, stunned, at the man who picks up the hot and charred crepe, worms out his tongue and opens his mouth, before scoffing it down in a single gulp. He pulls out a few bills and sets them on the kiosk counter, “Whew! In hindsight I should have put cream or something on it. Definitely not as good as the first one I had.” Honestly… What was his deal? He didn’t question your shocked expression, only smiling and reaching out his finger to wipe at a stray tear, using the kiosk to lean over and reach you, “Name’s Satoru. Or, well, Gojo is my last name and tends to be what others go by. For you, cutie, I’d rather be addressed by something more to heart. So, you free after this? I know a great restaurant near here.”

              Your mouth opens and closes, gaping like a dehydrated fish. You didn’t need to look down to see his arms begin to sizzle on the pan, the sound and smell enough to alert you both. Ven so, you informed him with ghostly words, “Your arm is cooking.”

              “Not gonna move it ‘til you say yes!”

              … You couldn’t believe what your day has come to, “Okay.”

.

The restaurant he had decided to take you to was something way out of your budget, and just as you were about to voice your concerns for it, he quickly put his finger to your lips and spoke, “Shh, I know what you’re going to say and don’t worry. I’ve got us covered.”

              Neither of you were particularly dressed for this place, he wearing a black uniform with the neck of it covering his chin, and you in your small, ripped (not by design) shorts and oversized t-shirt. Even with this, the waiter at the front smiled widely at Satoru, “Gojo-sama! What a pleasant surprise. Table for two?”

              You were thankful that the waiter didn’t acknowledge you. No greeting yet no glare or scowl either. Satoru flicked his fingers into guns and pointed at him, “You betch’ya! One of those cosy, independent booths, please.”

              “Of course, right this way.” The waiter lead you through the open area of the restaurant, many patrons idly enjoying their dinner with their loved ones by quiet candlelight, whilst the ones you walked slightly too close to were able to smell you and tell just what breed you were, some even trying to complain to their designated waiter. You just hung your head in shame until you got to the booth, following Satoru’s lead until you heard a door being slid shut.

              Quickly, you turned to face him, seeing that he had shut you both in a secluded area with a table, the walls made of a deep coloured screen that didn’t quite go to the ceiling, yet provided all the privacy one could need in a place like this. “Don’t worry,” he says, walking around to pull out a chair for you, “The owner and I get along real well. I’ve helped them out a few times.”

              He slides the seat in as you sit, and you still can’t get over the fact that he hasn’t done anything bad to you yet. This man has singlehandedly given you the most kindness you have received in your entire life. Perhaps he wants to break your heart in the end, at least you might get a free meal out of it. “I see… Are you a chef? Is that why your hair is up like that and you didn’t flinch when you got burnt?” You knew some chefs were godly in the kitchen and a little stove sizzle wouldn’t quit them.

              Satoru laughed, bringing his hands up to act as a resting spot for his chin, “Nooo~ Not a chef, and my hair just sits this way with the blindfold.”

              Which brings you on to your next question, “Why do you wear a blindfold? How can you navigate like that?”

              His cheeky grin only widens, his hands now moving to sit flat on the table so he can lean forward and whisper, “Would you believe I have… Special powers?”

              This made you quirk your eyebrow, now you were unintentionally leaning in as well, “Huh? Behind your blindfold?”

              Satoru chuckled, leaning back again in his chair as he nonchalantly waves the discussion away in the air, “Ah, I don’t think you can handle this conversation just yet. Oh! I know, how about this,” he holds his hand up, five fingers pointing towards the sky. Using his other hand, brings down his thumb so he was only showing four fingers, “Four more dates and I’ll reveal my eyes to you.”

              Another flustered expression overcame you. You hadn’t even finished this date – this is a date?! – and yet he was already planning more. Subconsciously, you tilt your head away from him, shoulders coming inwards as you mutter, “I don’t have anything to offer you, Satoru.”

              “I just,” he falters, and for the first time he sounds a little unsure of how to say something. Easily, his motions fluid and controlled, like he knows exactly what he wants to do, he reaches for your upper arms and pulls them forward, sliding down the length of your arms until he can comfortably hold your hands, “I just need you to be there. That’s all I want.”

              You swallow thickly, thinking it over. It wouldn’t hurt to see how tonight turned out, and even if you said no, he knows where you work. You suppose you can see where this takes you, until it falls flat like it should for an omega.

.

That night, you managed to tip toe back into your home, your father snoring on the couch. It was a miracle you weren’t berated, at least you had thought so until the morning.

              Cooking breakfast for him, he had decided now was prime time to slam his fist into the archway of the room, making you flinch as he roared, “You stupid bitch, don’t think I didn’t notice you not home last night. Where the fuck were you?”

              What to say… Could you lie? You’d have to lie, he would accuse you of trying to do something shady if you said you had a date. No omega would get a date, especially you, and so that would mean you were planning something bad. Or maybe it was your catastrophising thoughts that made you see it this way, a defence mechanism, if you will. “I was working late,” you tell him, quietly, “My boss is trying to extend the crepe business into later hours for couples on dates.”

              To this, your father scoffs, planting his body at the table as he awaits his meal, “No couple would want an omega to serve them, you might try to make off with their mate.”

              You really did try to hold your tongue, but maybe Satoru’s easy-going behaviour had mellowed you out a bit, “I just thought you might want the extra money.” It wasn’t a smart-ass comment, but no matter what you’d say he would take it as one.

              This morning, he seemed to have had a bad hangover, as he could only growl out, “What was that, you runt? Know your place.”

              Oh, how you desired to spit in his food. You gazed longingly at the bacon and eggs you were making, such a simple meal. Last night you had come home to see new pizza boxes laid around. Honestly, you felt a sort of betterment from that. You had dined like royalty, and he was stuck here eating shit from a sole. If only for last night, you were better than him.

…

“A curse?” You questioned, your wide eyes looking over your teacup. It was an authentic, British set, Satoru had taken you out to a little garden café on the other side of the city. It was amongst some of the historic temples around, the trees making you seem far away from the city and the food a kind of exquisite you had never been privy of knowing.

              He grinned at you, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling from behind his dark glasses, “That’s right! Kind of like a ghost or a monster. They feast on collective, negative energy and such, I don’t want to bore you with the details.”

              You tried to keep an open mind, “And you… Hunt them?”

              “Yeah! See, now you’re getting it,” he grins, excitedly.

              With a smile, you set your cup down and ask, “Are you an author, Satoru?”

              He waved his hand dramatically in the air, “Oh, you flatterer, you. I’m not that creative, it’s just my job.”

              As much as you wanted to believe him, you couldn’t help the creeping feeling that he was lying to you. Like, this was your third ‘date’ together and he still had yet to bully you or do something horrible. This wouldn’t be too far of a stretch to make you scared and freak out. Maybe he wants to laugh at the weak, little omega and her fear smell. Is that why you were in a crowded café?

              “Hey, hey,” he reaches over, holding your hands in his, “I can sense you’re troubled but not for the reason I’d think. You still don’t trust me, do you, (Y/n)?”

              Your mouth opens and closes, unsure how to word your thoughts. You were caught in a predicament you didn’t want to be in. Of course you still didn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust him after everything you’ve been through. Would he take such offense to that?

              Satoru seems to take your shock as his answer, smiling sincerely at you, “I don’t blame you, it’s okay. That’s why we’re doing these dates! Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from now on.”

              Flaming heat erupts on your cheeks, the feeling of his thumbs caressing your skin feeling like an iron, “How can you just say that? You don’t know me and I’m-“ you stop suddenly, looking around you to notice the faces of disgust, you really didn’t need to finish that sentence. Your blockers had grown thin, so now you were cutting them in half to try and spread it out since your doctor was on holiday. Unfortunately, they didn’t prevent the smell of your pheromones enough, it was painfully obvious everywhere you went.

              “Ah, my darling omega, you truly are sweet,” he inhales, smiling contentedly, “Once you realise the world is your playground, nothing else matters. I could kill everyone here and take you away, and as long as no one can stop me – and trust me, they can’t -, anything is possible, and your dreams really can come true.”

              You didn’t know what to say to that, his words always bordering on genuine and humour. Even with the knowledge of Satoru’s like to play, the undeniable dark truth of a true alpha manages to waft in the air.

              Like a switch, he grins widely, all teeth and charisma, “That’s not saying I will, but it’s such a nice feeling, don’t you think?”

              It’s quiet as his words sink in. You think about your life so far, how you couldn’t even get away with greeting someone without a knife to your throat and spitting words of how an omega doesn’t get to speak without their alpha allowing them to do so. As much as you’d like to punch them in the gut, you don’t think you’d really want to kill them, everyone growing under their own circumstance. Instead of getting into political debates, you think you don’t want anymore stares and judgement for today, deciding that even if Satoru is okay to talk to, you’re still uncomfortable, “I suppose so, it must be nice having such strength, and being able to see… Curses.”

The rest of the date was enjoyable, and he even answered some of your questions about the creatures he hunts. Apparently, omegas are prime suspects, easy to feast upon and no one questions when they go crazy, the second lot of victims being alphas that had an omega as a child. You’re honestly surprised you and your father haven’t been attacked yet if that’s the case.

              Satoru drives you home and it’s relatively quiet in the car, the thrumming of the almost noiseless engine enough to fill the silence. You go back to what Satoru says during your date, and now you’re memorising the smells he emitted during your conversation. Before, it was hard to really tell since you were stressing, and the restaurant was full of blooming alphas and betas. However, now it was lingering through the car. He had spoken so easily about death and killing, like it was second nature to him next to breathing. Some curses were sentient, able to talk and think, and then there was the comment about killing everyone else in the restaurant, who were definitely not curses. He was happy, proud even, to have that kind of strength and show it off to you. Tonka bean and vetiver… Perhaps even an orange blossom. It was nice, even if the reason behind it was a little morbid, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes and indulge.

              The scent got stronger, and suddenly you were startled by a low chuckle, your eyes flashing open to see you were leaning towards him. Satoru had slowed down in front of your house and turned the car off, his cheeks a flush in the dim light, “Having you relax around me like that feels so nice. I can’t tell you enough how happy you’ve just made me.”

              You open your mouth immediately to say sorry, only to close it after a moment’s thought. He doesn’t smell like he’s trying to bully you or mad that you thought you could get so close to him without repercussions. How much longer can you hold out from someone who is being so kind to you?

              “You don’t have to reply to that,” he tells you, saving you from thinking of an acceptable response. Satoru gets out first, hurrying to your side while you unbuckle yourself to let you out. You smile at him and let him take your hand, holding you close as he closes the door and pushes you against the car. A small gasp is pushed from you, surprised at his boldness. You’re lucky that this neighbourhood was relatively quiet, no one being awake at this hour to see you with anyone. “I really want to kiss you,” he says, face inching closer to you, “You have no idea how hard it was for me to hold back in the car.”

              Your eyes shift in nervousness, hands coming to press to Satoru’s chest, “W-wait, s’too soon-“

              “It’s fine,” he cuts, not letting you get another word out, smashing his lips to yours in a frenzied kiss. Your eyes dilate, his scent and taste making your heart jump with a certain anxiety – excitement – you’re letting your shoulders relax and clenching the front of his shirt as he takes the lead. Maybe… Maybe this isn’t so bad… His leg finds its way between the both of yours and gently grinds down, a small moan slipping from your mouth at the electric feeling. Next, he starts to slowly introduce his tongue to your mouth, the wet muscle a new sensation to you.

              Suddenly, you’re hit with an overwhelming pain, your gut tightening and your eyes watering as you double over into his chest. Your body is hot, panting, you lean into him and can hardly hear anything. Satoru is speaking, saying something, ‘sorry’ and ‘test’ are two words you think you understand but you can’t focus on sounds. What does help you, though, is the gentle caress his hand brings to your head. He holds you tight, safe, his pheromones echoing security and comfort through your mind. You mumble into his clothes once you feel you’re able to talk again, “Wh-what was that? That hurt so much…”          

              Satoru hums, both hands coming to your face which he cradles and regards you with loving eyes, “Have you ever been in heat, (Y/n)?”

              You sniffle, shaking your head, “No, I’ve taken suppressants since the day they found out what I was. It made puberty really difficult…”

              Satoru’s lips curl into a frown, “I imagine it would. It seems your body jumped into overdrive, the stimulation from kissing alone too much for you.”

              Your arms curled around yourself for some comfort, “My suppressants, they’re running low so I’ve been halving them to spread them out but they’re just making me feel sick.”

              “When did you start halving them?” He asks, eyes now wide with worry.

              “Uhm, I think about a few days ago? But I can’t get a hold of my doctor and it’s hard to find anyone that will willingly prescribe suppressants.” Your head falls into his chest, a feeling of defeat washing over you.

              Satoru pets your head, quiet in thought before he says, “Why not just stop taking them?”

              You have to laugh at that, tilting your head to look up at him, “You’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking.”

              “I’m not,” he closes his eyes, burying his nose in your neck and holding you close, “You’ve got me now, I’ll look after you. Fuck, you smell so good.”

              “Satoru-“ Your wrists are caught in his as he stares you down.

              Or, at least that is what he appears to be doing. You’re stuck in his grasp as you wait for him to make his statement, which he does once your lips smacks shut, “You don’t need to hide who you are anymore. Just think about it, ‘kay?”

              To get him off your back you give an exhale of defeat, rolling your eyes to the side and complying, “Fine. I’ll think about it. Cool?”

              His charming grin is almost enough to even fool you into thinking it was okay to relinquish your omega self to him, “Cool.”

.

Things were not cool. Not long after getting inside, your father had waited to pounce once the car Satoru drove was out of sight. Your vision had waned with the punch he threw at you, your body colliding with the hallway wall. “Disgusting!” He had spat, literally, his saliva landing on your cheek and barely missing your eye. His foot was next to make contact, kicking you hard enough in the stomach that you threw up a little of your dinner, “You reek of a fucking omega! I see you whoring yourself out, slut. Tryna hide the money from me, eh?”

              Another kick had you crying out, this one on your bicep and knocking you back to the ground. You wailed as he bent down and held your hair in a tight and painful grasp, “I’m not! I swear, I have no money!”

              He ignored you, his breath badly stained with alcohol, however, you were certain even without the influence he wouldn’t hold back, “Tryna seduce me? Hm? Your own father? You fucking wretch. If you don’t stop that smell right now I swear to whatever fucking God is out there…”

              You were bawling now, you could only assume your hormones were worse, your own senses dull to the smell of you. It hurt internally as well, your omega working overdrive as you try in vain to calm down so you didn’t have to endure the full impact of emitting such helpless hormones. It may not have worked the way you wanted it to, but, your father seemed to calm down with a sneer.

He threw your head to the floor and began walking away, “If you don’t get back on those fucking meds by tomorrow then I will kill you. I promise you that.”

You didn’t dare reply to that, thankful that he decided to walk away while you were still breathing tonight.

..

How fitting the weather is today, the clouds a dark grey and the skies pouring with rain. You had one umbrella with a hole between two of the spines but it was better than nothing. This morning you left the house with a bag packed and a small suitcase, only the essentials.

              You were on a bus ride to the other side of town to see your doctor. If they weren’t going to pick up the phone then you’d have to arrive suddenly. If he didn’t have the suppressors then you weren’t going to go home, in fact, you weren’t entirely sure if you were going to go back anyway. Perhaps a life on the street was better than this. A woman’s shelter wouldn’t take you in for the fact that you were an omega, and an omega shelter had an 80% chance of being a front for something worse than illegal.

              The bus stops where you need to be, the passengers loudly exclaiming that they’re happy you’re finally leaving. It doesn’t hurt so much today, you just have one thing on your mind.

              ‘Why not just kill yourself?’

              You stop at the thought, in the middle of opening your umbrella, standing in the rain. It was a thought, right? Ending it was always a nice joke but holy shit that voice sounded like it was right by your ear and… genuine. You weren’t exactly scared, a little shocked, sure but, maybe you should bring that up with your doctor, too.

              However, as you got closer and closer to the clinic, you began to think they weren’t open. Though there was the receptionist’s and the doctor’s cars outside, the curtains were drawn, the lights were off and the sign, once you got close enough to read, was saying ‘Closed’.

              Your hand reaches to your heart as you feel it thumping hard in anxiety, your pheromones beginning to linger around you as a thick, steady aura. Thank goodness this place was off the city boarder, not many people around to subject you to bullying and hatred. You look back to the cars again, both of them parked neatly in the small lot. Even if it’s closed, you need to push past your nervousness and gently demand your medication. If you didn’t… Well, he knows just as well as you do.

              You knock on the glass with a firm hit, calling out for good measure, “Dr. Kodoka, it’s me, (Y/n).”

              Silence.

              You knock again, if they don’t want to be disturbed then the earlier they open up to you the better. “Dr. Kodoka, please, I really need to talk to you. It’s an emergency,” you plead, hoping he could tell by the sound of your voice how desperate you were.

              Your gut drops as more silence is your only response. You probably should have tried this first, grabbing the long handle of the door and trying to open it. No surprise, it’s locked. Perhaps there’s a back entrance? Oh, you feel so seedy scrounging around a doctor’s office.

              Past the skip bins there’s a narrow entrance just wide enough for one person between the building and a wired fence. You’re not sure why the wired fence is even here, it’s not attached to anything and only separates a portion of the office from an open wheat field. Luck smiles upon you as you try this door, the entrance clicking open and allowing you to step into the darkness.

              One deep breath before you call out has you positively gagging at the disgusting scent that assaults you nose and mouth. It’s unavoidable, the little bit of vomit that works its way up your throat is involuntarily spat out onto the linoleum floor. What. The. Fuck.

              This has to be the worst experience you’ve ever been through, the tears in your eyes falling freely as you persevere through the smell. You know you need to call the police, you know something like this isn’t normal. However, if you do, and they find out you’re an omega here to purchase suppressants then there’s a good chance you’ll both be dead. It’s happened before, police getting trigger happy or beating up omegas and any allies. Of course, society doesn’t care. More filth off the streets.

              There’s a sound towards the entrance, something being knocked over, as well as some sort of ‘sludging’ noise. Could it be one of them trying to get to the door? Someone must be alive! You quietly move towards the entrance, past the main office, the break room, and peak through the broken door of the reception. It’s horrendous.

              All the gore has been maintained in this area. Limbs, a spine, half a head that has been poorly cut from the top of their skull through their chin- and that’s only the background. In the middle of it all, this giant, wrinkly, slug-like creature appears to be waking up. It has an amass of arms and hands over it’s back and sides, and one twitching on the tip of its tail. The stalks that would be its eyes slowly raise, turning in all directions as if looking around.

              You fall against the door, your entire being freezing up in a shock mode. The thud of your body hitting the floor alerts it to you, and you notice now that instead of eyes, it was wearing the distraught faces of the doctor and receptionist. The receptionist still had one of her eyes hanging from their socket, whilst the doctor was completely eyeless, with only a couple of teeth and the tip of his tongue drooping from the gaping mouth.

              It hones in on your position and starts charging at an alarming pace, the only thing you can do is scream your throat raw as your end nears. It’s too horrifying, too real to be a dream you can escape. The creature splits its mouth with human-like teeth in mismatched rows and thrashing hands over its body and you can’t look away from your demise.

              You don’t blink, and because you don’t blink it’s hard to believe anything happened.

              As fast as light itself, a man appears and slashes the slug in half, horizontally through its open mouth with a light so white there’s a tint of blue to it. The guttural scream it lets out is so closely related to a human’s that you are only filled with more fear. The man, who turns to give you a cocky wink and that you can now see is Satoru Gojo, makes a crude display of holding his index and middle finger in front of his face and slowly licking his digits with the flat of his tongue; before slicing the creature up into smaller pieces until it bursts into sprays of blood and nothingness.

              Your hearing was skewed, you barely recognise his footsteps as he walks towards you and bends down to hold his hand out. You tell your mind to grab it, to accept his kindness after saving you but you’re caught in your own sense of dread and confusion as not a speck of blood is seen on Satoru or his white hair, or his devilish smile, or that black coat with the collar sticking around his neck.

              Satoru’s smile softens and he’s sure you can’t hear him when speaks to you, “Ah, I see we’ll have to cut our deal short. That’s okay, we’re only one date off anyway.” He reaches for your hands, placing them both in one of his and stroking the backs with his thumb. He then slowly removes his blindfold and tilts your chin with his free hand to force you to meet his silvery gaze, “(Y/n), sweetheart, look at me. Everything is okay now.”

              His eyes are so blue… White… Silver… They’re like crystals or diamonds or two pools of galaxies – they’re out of this world. His lashes are gorgeous too, and for some reason you feel a ping of jealousy amongst all this chaos because how can a man be so beautiful just by taking off his blindfold. Like a character taking off their glasses to reveal they were beautiful all along. Wait, what are these thoughts? In this horrible situation you suddenly feel like giggling.

              Satoru chuckles, keeping your focus solely on him as he lifts you in his arms to carry you out. People in suits run past you but neither of you pay them no mind as he keeps talking, “What silly thoughts are going through that omega mind of yours?” You laugh incredulously, feeling your body fall heavier in his arms he adjusts you, “There it is, there’s that adrenaline leaving you. I gotcha, sweetheart.”

.

You’re sat on the back of an ambulance with a blanket around your shoulders and a bottle of water wedged between your legs. A few feet away is Satoru, talking to someone so casually you wouldn’t think he just killed a monster with his own hands; literally. You watch as he dismisses the person and walks back over to you with a smile, his blindfold back on and his hands coming from his pockets to bring you into a side embrace, “How are you feeling? That was quite an experience, huh?”

              Trauma makes people react differently to things, so if this was his job then it makes sense he wouldn’t be so distressed. “I smell of decay,” you sigh, though you weren’t covered in filth you definitely had some stains. Even without the mess, the stale air in the clinic was enough to cling to you. You squeeze the blanket tighter around you, “How could something like this happen? They were generous people. Kind; caring.”

              Satoru seemed to think for a moment, as if deciding what the best thing to say right now would be. Whether it was helpful or not, he opted for the truth, placing one of his large hands below your neck for comfort, “They were helping omegas, and regardless of their personality, a lot of stigma comes from there. Constant stress to keep a secret, harsh words from the few friends and family that know, it all adds up and creates the perfect scent for a curse to trail.”

              “I remember you saying you that they are attracted to negative energy. So, rather than feeding off the energy itself they eat the humans?” You ask, though you already know the answer to that. You just can’t wrap your head around how this is even possible. You recall his eyes, how pretty they are beneath the blindfold, “Is that why your eyes are so striking, because you have the power to fight them?”

              A laugh bubbles from his chest, his hand squeezing your back, “Sort of. Not everyone is like me, though. In fact, no one is like me.” He steps back, arms open wide and head tilted towards the sky, “I’m the most powerful sorcerer to exist! Killing that creature used nothing but a flick of my wrist.” When he looks back to you there is a strange, powerful feeling that emanates from him, even some of the detectives around you seem to tense, “Nothing can touch me. In turn, nothing will ever touch you.”

              What he says should be something kind, words of protection and safety. However, as his gaze burns through the blindfold and into your own, you feel like your breath has been whisked away and your body is being pulled to the ground, trapping you in place for him. It only lets up when your phone begins to ring, and to get out of this awkward feeling of a situation you answer it, “Hello, this is (Y/n).”

              The voice on the other side of the phone makes you almost vomit, your father sounding almost melancholic, “(Y/n)… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted like that. Come home.”

              You’re at a loss for words. He wants you home? No, that’s a lie, you can’t understand what is going on with him. Something tickles your ear and you jump to see Satoru leaning close so he can listen to your conversation. He smiles at you and nods, whispering, “Say yes.”

              Satoru saved you and promised to protect you. He wouldn’t be telling you to agree if you were going to get hurt, you’d like to believe. So, swallowing your hesitation you reply, “O-Okay, dad. I’ll come home.”

              He breathes a huge sigh of relief, “Thank god, thank you, (Y/n). Thank you so much.”

              You hang up and look to Satoru with worry, “Do you think he’s going to kill me?”

              “Nah, I won’t let him,” Satoru says, confidently. You think you can trust him, especially since you watched him take down a strong monster, your angry alpha of a father would be no match for him. He sees you’re still worried, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand and his smile doing its best to calm you, “Let’s finish up here.”

.

By the time you two are at your house the sun was low in the sky. Satoru had parked down the street this time, the two of you walking slowly down footpath to avoid suspicion. You were already on edge, however, when Satoru told you he wanted you to go in alone, you froze up completely.

              He just stood there, allowing you to process what he said. You started by shaking your head, grabbing onto his hand, “No. No, please, you said-“

              “-I said I’d protect you and I will. I’m going to go around the back, you just walk up like everything is hunky-dory, ‘kay?”

              With a squeeze of your shoulder, he skips around, his carefree attitude not exactly lifting your anxiety. One thing is for certain, though, and that’s that you’ve seen him kill the other curse before. You know he can do it. You trust him. Alpha status aside, if you have any friend in this world then it’s Satoru Gojo.

              You take your time going up to the front door, hand trembling as you reach for the knob. It’s unlocked, the door creaking open ominously. You get a cold rush through your body, the inside at freezing temperatures. It’s unnatural, making you step back in shock and shivering in what you could only describe as unease.

              But it’s okay, because Satoru is here. He said he would protect you and the prospect has you feeling your cheeks flush. He’s like… your alpha.

              The inside is quiet, save for the humming of electricity coming from the fridge. You walk slowly in and look around, spying your father in lounge room on his recliner, hands intertwined as he leans forward. You don’t shut the door, feeling just a tad easier with the escape route.

              It isn’t until you’re standing before him that a whistling of wind causes the door to slam shut on its own, the locks clicking in place unnaturally. Your confused look in that direction has him huffing a laugh. Your father doesn’t give you the courtesy of eye contact, “You know that on the day you were born, your mother and I were at our happiest?”

              It’s an odd way to start a conversation, and though you were certain this was a trap of some kind, you don’t know what else to do except respond meekly, “I didn’t know that no.”

              A humourless laugh accompanies the way he sits up, shoulders slumped, and eyes dazed behind you, “No, of course you don’t. We only told you once when you were just a newborn. Once you got your status in life, well… It was too shameful to ever bring up again. We were completely embarrassed we every felt that way about an omega.”

              He’s not just staring off into nothing, you notice the way his eyes look specifically behind you. Is it Satoru, did he come inside? You turn your head, only to go rigid and fall back in fear. Not another one… Not another curse.

              It was too tall for the ceiling, curving over like a hook with its head twisted to be partially upright. Tiny mouths were strewn over its face and down its neck, human teeth in all sorts of odd places like the lips and cheeks of the creature. The main mouth was skewed to the side and grinning openly down at you, and the eyes that are sunken, almost giving a hollow effect, were as dark as a black hole; though you knew instantly that it had its gaze locked on you. Four lanky arms reach from its shoulders, the body a crooked mass of black and its fingers twitching in all the wrong directions with painful cracks of possible bone.

              The worst part that solidified its presence was when it spoke, his voice raspy and words barely tangible, “Dau…ght…er… Path..et..ic ome…gck.a. Delectabblle—dinn….eerrr.”

              You jumped at the firm hands on your shoulders, keeping you in place as the curse limped forwards. Your father spoke in a neutral tone, “It appeared not long after your mother left. At first, I didn’t know what to make of it, who to contact or what to do. Eventually, I started nurturing it. It grew with every argument we had, relished in my anger and pain. I let it feed off me and now it wants more. Now it wants you. You’ll do this, right? It’s the only good thing you’re for, after all. It’ll save me, your family.”

              Tears streamed down your face, head shaking as you shifted back. Even with the bit of adrenaline you were able to muster, you were no match for your father, forced to endure the visual of this creature’s fingers itching to get a hold of your flesh. You could only sob, no words coming out, not even to call for Satoru.

              Thankfully, you didn’t have to. Your saviour appears once more, and as though the curse is nothing but a guy on the street, he places his hand on its back and gives a low whistle, “Low blow, dad. And here I was excited to finally meet my father-in-law.”

              There’s a pressure now in the air, one that has you curling in on yourself, and causing the curse’s open smile to turn into a low hanging frown. Its head spins on its neck, trying to get a look at the man that has it. Your father is more concerned about the words Satoru spoke, though, the tips of his fingers digging painfully into your skin, “’Father-in-law’? You whore. I knew you were out selling yourself. Looks like even to the end, you’re nothing but an embarrassment. That’s all going to change, though. Now you and your boy toy can die together.”

              Satoru laughs, and before you can even blink, he appears behind your father and grabs his wrist, easily shattering the bones and causing him to let go of you. You shift to the side, away from both him and the curse as he screams. Satoru tuts at him, waggling his finger nonchalantly in the air, “Parents should protect their children, not sacrifice them. Honestly…” His voice lowers into something almost sad, though you’re wondering if Gojo Satoru was actually privy to that emotion in the first place or if he was just a really good actor, “People like you disgust me.”

              A bright light that radiates such an intense heat envelops the lounge room. Your arm comes up to cover your face, eyes squinting, all you can hear are the pained cries of your father and the garbled curse. It sends fear coursing through your body, even if Satoru is on your side, just what sort of power does he control? The carnage you expect to see once your eyes adjust isn’t anywhere. The light is gone, everyone else in the room is gone, thin burn marks are left where your father and the curse once was.

              You jump at the hand on your shoulder, your saviour appearing once again out of nowhere. He smirks, acting a little flustered, “Sorry, are your eyes okay? I just wanted to show off a little bit.”

              Again, he’s able to treat this like it’s any other menial task. You ask him, voice quiet, “Where are they?”

              He tilts his head at you, a little pouty that your first concern was them and not the praise you should be heaping on your hero. He squeezes your shoulder, comfortingly, “What do you mean? They’re gone, does it really matter where?”

              It takes a few goes on shaky legs, but, you’re able to stand and face him, “I’m just a little concerned what even happened. Watching you fight the other one, I couldn’t wrap my head around it, and now this- … Are they…?”

              “Dead? Yes.”

              You exhale at his blatant response. Is this something you should blame yourself for, the killing of your father and that… thing? Or is that just your life-long need to put any negative responsibility on you for merely being born an omega.

              Satoru wraps his arm around you and leads you out of the lounge room to help your overclocked mind, "Here’s what would have happened if I didn’t do that: The curse would eat you, devour your father, and then go on a rampage hunting primarily other poor omegas. It’s happened before, baby. Besides,” he cups your face in his hands, making you look up at him, “He was a horrible man. No loss. Can you really say you loved him?”

              The only love you had for your father was before your scent kicked in. After that, he was worse than a stranger to you. You fiddle with your fingers, abashedly looking away, “What happens now?”

              “Now,” he excitedly jostles you, the smile on his face huge, “You come with me!”

              Your eyebrows furrow, his goofy attitude somehow lessening the severity of the situation for you, “I can’t just do that.”

              “Sure you can! Where else are you gonna go?” He questions, awaiting an answer he knows you won’t be able to think of. He takes your hands in his and gets down on one knee, “(Y/n), I know it hasn’t been very long, but when I say I’ve finally found the love of my life-“

              Cheeks burning, you push away from him, trying to cover up his teasing laugh with your hands to your ears, “Stop! Stop stop stop stop stop. Fine, I’ll come along with you.” You don’t think you can ever get used to being flirted with, especially in the unique ways that Satoru comes up with.

              He gives you a gentle push, “Go grab some valuables, baby. We’ll leave once you’re ready.”

              Satoru watches as you move up the stairs, grumbling about the sudden use of ‘baby’ he’s started getting attached to. Hah, how he really does love you. His hand comes to the straining of his cock in his pants, palming the ache that’s been prevalent for a while now. Not long now, he can’t way to absolutely ruin you. An omega that’s never had a proper heat, and he gets to be your first toy, just as much as you are his. His luck truly is divine, if anyone deserves it, it’s definitely him.

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @mimimar

Hi! I’m Michelle (Mimimar), an illustrator born and raised in Venezuela, currently based in Italy. I enjoy making colorful illustrations that reflect the things I love: fairy tales, fantasy, tenderness and queer (especially sapphic) stories. Occasionally, I also make paper dolls, comics and animatics. I have a lot of interest in book illustration and I’m currently developing my own stories that I hope to share as an author-illustrator someday!

Check out our interview with Michelle below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I always enjoyed drawing when I was a kid, but it only became a hobby that I did almost every day when I was around 11. At first I only used traditional mediums, but I decided to make a serious effort to learn how to draw digitally when I was 15, and once I got the hang of it I never stopped!

I didn’t go to art school so all of my learning was done through studying the tutorials and resources that other artists generously share on the internet and lots of practice / trial and error.

How do you want to evolve as a creator?

I want to do many things but what I want to do the most right now is work on books! I want to make art for other authors’ stories and also my own stories as an author-illustrator. I want to grow as a storyteller and create art and stories that will really resonate with people emotionally. I’m always striving to improve my skills as well.

I also really love dolls, so working on doll box art or as a doll designer is something I would love to do someday. I actually have been designing paper dolls on my Patreon for the past few months, it’s been a fun project that is still ongoing right now!

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

Probably using a lot of purple! It’s my favorite color so I find myself using it a lot. If I can find a way to sneak a little bit of purple into an illustration or a character design then I will.

Congratulations on finishing your Ivy Comic! Did the outcome turn out like how you expected or were there some unexpected bumps along the way?

Thank you! It’s a project that I worked on very slowly in between other art because I wanted to really take my time with every spread and make each of them a fully detailed illustration. I thumbnailed the full comic before starting but I kept changing the sketch for the final spread until the very end! Overall I’m really proud of the end result. I sprinkled a lot of hidden details in every page that I hope some of the readers will notice. For example: the meanings of the flowers in each page represent what the characters are feeling in that moment, and the colors of their wardrobe become gradually lighter as the story progresses to represent their emotions, as well as the changing of seasons.

We’ve noticed that you have created some amazing cover art for TGCF. Is there another series you would like to do something similar with? 

That was another passion project that took some time to complete. Initially, I didn’t intend for them to be specifically covers, it was just a series of illustrations based on the 5 books/main arcs of TGCF. But since they were well-received and I had people telling me they wish they could use them as covers for their books, I decided to rework them into dust jackets for the english translation of TGCF!

I haven’t thought of any other specific series but I love doing cover art so maybe I’ll do something similar again in the future!

What’s your favorite part of your style? Why?

I’ve heard from other people that there’s a delicate quality to my art, this is something that I like a lot! I like pretty things, fairytales and vibrant colors. I think all of these things probably reflect in the art I make as well.

If there is one thing you want your audience to remember about your work, what would it be?

I hope that they remember how it made them feel. Feelings and colors are the two things I give priority to in my work. Most of the time I like depicting tenderness, softness and emotional intimacy. If that could reach the viewer and stay with them it would make me very happy. 

I make a lot of art with queer (mainly sapphic) themes because they’re the kind of stories I personally like and want to see more of, so whenever people tell me that my art has helped them in their journey to discover and accept themselves, or that they see themselves and their partner in my art, it is always extremely meaningful to me. When art that I made to give myself comfort can provide comfort for others, no matter how small, it reminds me once again that despite any hardships art is genuinely worth pursuing.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

So many artists! To name a few:  I love @sakizo’s amazing eye for fashion and detail,  @paneeps’ gorgeous style and striking colors,  the sweetness of @bevsi’s art,  @vickisigh’s pretty colors and concepts,  @idledee’s warm and heartfelt art,  @littlestpersimmon’s dreamy wonderful art,  and @loish has been an inspiration for as long as I can remember.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Michelle! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @mimimar.

[dearru]

like a dog | s.hinata

-> pairing: hinata shoyo x gn!reader | sfw | cw: lovesick shoyo | wc: 1080 | genre: fluff | mlist

-> synopsis: shoyo always thinks about you. 

SHOYO’s not ashamed to admit that he’s a little obsessed with you.

He thinks about you all the time. At work, at the gym, in the shower. Your face is so etched into his memory that you appear in perfect clarity, slipping into his mind during the most mundane of moments. He’s always been an appreciative individual, but loving you has increased his gratefulness by tenfold. Thoughts of you make the ordinary feel sacred. 

But as much as he loves to think of you, he appreciates being with you far more. 

He’s just gotten home from a long day of training, and while his muscles ached, it’s his heart that feels the real strain. As much as he loves his job, hours spent away from you are absolute torture. For every second he’s not with you, he finds himself craving your presence more than anything in the world. 

It’s on nights like this one, when his body is sore and mind’s sick from longing, that there’s only one cure for his ailment– you. 

When he tip-toes into the bedroom, his chest lurches with excitement when he sees your figure laying in your shared bed. You’re already tucked under the quilted covers, but he can tell your mind is far from sleep. Your tired eyes are illuminated by the faint glow of a computer screen, and he watches you sigh deeply as your lithe fingers idly type away.

You work too hard. 

He frowns. It’s a bit silly to think about himself chastising you for overdoing it. Shoyo’s always been a proponent of the “you can never work too hard” mindset. He’s a firm believer that there are no shortcuts in life. If you want to succeed, you must pursue your ambition in earnest and push yourself past your limits. 

He’s preached this mindset time and time again. During conversations with friends, interviews with the press, and with his teammates. 

But in spite of it all, he finds himself wishing you’d rest. Even if it was just for a little while. 

Along with subscribing to the idea that there is merit in working hard, he also believes that one should lead by example. So, with a quiet resolve, he decides to display relaxation to you.

If his own selfish desires also happened to be served in the process, then it was just a happy coincidence. 

A smile tugs at his lips as he crawls on the mattress to lay with you. Even without touching you, the radiant warmth of your body embraces his skin and instantly relaxes him. 

When Shoyo was younger, he used to think he’d never be tied down. He was always flighty, always restless, always chasing the next big thing. 

But then he met you. 

You made settling down something worth doing. You taught him– among other things– the beauty of slowing down.

You are his home. 

He inches closer, longing for your affection. You hum in acknowledgement, eyes fixated on the screen, lost in whatever it was you were working on. His heart swells at the way you bite your lip in concentration.

He loves how hard you work, even when you don’t have to.

But that doesn’t mean he won’t fight to steal some of your time for himself. 

“I’m lonely.” Shoyo drawls, pressing his cheek against your blanket-clad thigh and looking up at you in adoration. Sighing dramatically, he sprawls further across you, chasing the high of your attention like a dog begging for a treat. “Come hang out with me before I die of boredom.” 

You laugh softly, and his ears perk up at the sound. 

Hesitantly, you discard yourself of your laptop and spread your arms. Nudging your head, your voice is laced with a fond amusement. 

“C’mere.” 

He obeys your call in an instant and collapses into your embrace. It’s not long before he’s peppering your face with kisses. One kiss to the forehead, another to the eyelids, and one on the lips for good measure. They’re fervent, each filled with more energy than the last in an effort to convey just how much he loves you. 

He’s been waiting for this all day. 

“You missed me that much?” You tease through soft gasps. 

Grinning, he nods. Shoyo knows you. He’s come to recognize that beneath all the layers of sardonic sarcasm, there’s a faint fondness you reserve only for him.

“Even when I’m with you, I’m thinking about how much I’ll miss you when you leave.” He confesses, inhaling your natural scent as he curls into you. 

As sappy as it is, it’s the truth, and Shoyo is always unapologetically himself. 

You tilt your head, amused, “So why don’t you just stay with me all the time?” 

“Really?” His breath catches, and the excitable child in him rears its head. Gripping you tighter, he looks up at you with something hopeful in his chest.

When you nod, he unravels, and his smile widens. It’s bright and boyish and full of love. 

 “Okay.” He beams. “Lets. Let’s be together– always.” 

It’s a foolish declaration. Shoyo is old enough to know that by now. But when you comb your fingers through his hair in the way that you currently are, it makes him want to believe in the impossible. 

“You’re such a dork.” You chuckle.

He grins at the playful jab. He doesn’t mind when you tease him. He loves everything you do. You fill him with such a unique fondness that sometimes, he wishes he could just carve his heart out and give it to you. Maybe then you’d see how stained it’s become with your essence. 

Shoyo doesn’t think you’ll ever be able to fully comprehend how much he loves you, or how much these little moments mean to him, but that’s okay.

For now, he’s fine with just showing you.  

Settling down, he closes his eyes and lets his heart slow, basking in the feeling of your gentle hands tracing him. In your reverent touch, his once weary body is long forgotten. You make him feel warm all over, and he swears that you have the ability to transport him into a metaphysical space that transcends the limits of flesh and bone. 

In the quiet still of the night, with his heart full of love and your hands full of him, Shoyo affirms that he truly does love to think about you.

But nothing compares to the feeling of being here, in your arms.

–a/n: um…hey…haha…im not self inserting…you are…

shoyo tag for @cherrysurf

[the-cosmic-cauldron]

Astrology Observations 01/18/2025

• Virgo placements: If you want someone who will stick it out even in the worst relationships, look for Virgo placements. They’ll try to make it work no matter how incompatible things might be.

• Pisces + Air placements: People with Pisces and air placements are fascinating to talk to. They always bring interesting perspectives to a conversation.

• Pisces sensitivity: Pisces is the most sensitive water sign. If you meet a Pisces who doesn’t cry, isolate, or get in their feelings a lot, they likely don’t have many water placements. With strong water energy, they’re ultra-sensitive.

• Capricorns & Scorpios: These two signs are so similar. Both seem to carry trauma, emotional difficulties, and unexpressed feelings. They’re driven to leave their mark on the world but struggle to articulate their deeper emotions.

• 9th house placements: If you want someone open-minded with lots of knowledge and cool topics to share, look for someone with 9th house placements. Their intelligence is unmatched.

• Capricorn, Scorpio, and Aries Risings: These rising signs often get mistaken for one another.

• Pisces + Gemini in a chart: A combination of Pisces and Gemini placements can make someone wildly delusional.

• Moon sign and children: Your child’s moon sign can reveal what they’ll do for you in this lifetime. For example, I’m a Cancer and I’m always there for my mom emotionally, acting as her therapist. My sister is a Taurus and is the most consistent sibling, keeping my mom comfortable.

• Aries Moon energy: No matter your Sun sign, if you have an Aries moon, it dominates your chart.

• Sagittarius men: Men with Sagittarius placements rarely date with any plan or seriousness.

• Stoners and fire signs: Many stoners seem to have fire placements—after all, you need fire to light it up.

• 6th house placements: Regardless of the sign, 6th house placements tend to make it more mundane or boring.

• 4th house placements: These placements can make someone as private as a Scorpio. If you add Scorpio energy to the 4th house, it’s like no one knows anything about you.

• Leo placements: If you have Leo placements (especially multiple), admit it—you’ve been an attention-seeker at some point in your life.

• Aquarius energy: Aquarius placements balance best when paired with water or fire energy.

• Capricorn women: Every Capricorn woman I know is either a masterful shit-talker or extremely innocent and keeps to herself.

• Libras: Libras can be frustrating. They have a private self and a public self. The private self is often messy, while the public self is all rainbows and glitter.

• Leo men: Name one Leo man who’s over their ex. I don’t think you can.

• Cancers: The best Cancers are those with multiple water placements, not just a Cancer Sun.

• Aries, Capricorn, and Scorpio: Put an Aries, Capricorn, and Scorpio in a room, and you’ll have a winning team.

• Taurus energy: I love Taurus energy, but some of you can be boring. Taurus needs fire placements to bring excitement.

• 2nd house Moons: When a 2nd house Moon is bored or going through something, they’ll start shopping or buying random things—often stuff they don’t even use.

• 7th house Moon: A Moon in the 7th house makes someone a people-pleaser.

• 10th house placements: These placements make someone career-focused, but they often feel bland or dry in terms of personality.

• 12th house placements: People with 12th house placements are fascinating. They’re often confused about life, reclusive, struggling with addiction, or simply unsure of themselves.

• Sagittarius placements and height: Sagittarius placements (not necessarily the Sun) seem to make people taller.

• 6th house and pets: People with 6th house placements make great pet owners.

• 7th house vs. 5th house:

• 7th house placements thrive in monogamous relationships and need to find “the one.”

• 5th house placements, on the other hand, should enjoy being single and having fun before settling down.

• Conflicting Moon and Venus: If someone seems like they’re love-bombing you, they might just have a conflicting Moon and Venus. They fall in love fast but remain emotionally detached, which can give off the impression of love-bombing.

That’s it! Thanks for reading.