#(nevermind it's the one that i most closely relate to)

[organchordsandlightning]

continually and constantly thinking about Hawkeye: "And you're my best friend, I never got along this well with anybody, moron!" BJ: "well, that goes double for me, stupid!"

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹｡ i left my keys on your bedroom floor | miya atsumu

wc: 2.4k

summary: atsumu is the clumsiest guy you've ever met; nothing ever goes to plan, especially when it comes to love. 

contains: f!reader, use of ‘misus’, mostly fluff with a bit of misunderstanding, reader wears heels, some swears, atsumu thinks he’s going to have a heart attack but it’s just him being him, atsumu is an idiot in love 

a/n: not related to the plot, but take a chance with me and fearless remind me of atsumu’s feels in this one (and paper rings will forever be an atsumu song for me)

part of how to be your lover boy (a valentine's collab by augustinewrites & seiwas)

Atsumu thinks this is the dumbest fuck-up he could have ever fucked up. 

Wood isn’t supposed to feel this cold, but his leg is freezing rested against it. 

Is this what it means to be weak in the knees?

Out of all places, of all times, Miya Atsumu finds himself knelt down on one knee by your bedside, legs feeling like jello at his attempt to look under your bed for his apartment keys. 

This wouldn’t be a problem at all, really; he kneels down all the time—for lunges during training (the bane of his existence if you ask him), for helping his Ma plant those herbs he’s sure she does for Osamu (he hates how the soil sticks to his skin), and for buckling the straps on your heels even, when you need him to (he doesn’t like it, only because he prefers you much more comfortable in softer shoes, unchafed ankles and all). 

So, kneeling isn’t really that big of a deal for Atsumu—

—but you’re there, standing by the bathroom door, staring at him with overwhelming surprise, evidently anticipating something serious enough to bring tears to your eyes. 

This is wrong. It isn’t at all what you’re thinking—he was just looking for his keys. 

“‘Tsum…” you choke out, mouth partially covered by your shaky hand. 

Fuck, if this isn’t the worst way he could possibly do this. 

He’s sure his eyes are wide, brows furrowed by a mixture of worry and regret. 

“Wait,” he holds two hands up, slowly coming to a stand, “S’not what ya think.” 

This is seriously the dumbest way he could fuck this up. 

The expression on your face drops, warmth rushing to your cheeks. If Atsumu could describe how you look, he’d call it worse than heartbreak—the horror in your eyes flashing embarrassment and the creases between your brows screaming rejection; what once were lifted cheeks have now sunk, turning into an undeniable frown. 

There are tears threatening to spill from your lash line, for a different reason now, he thinks, and it’s all his fault—it makes his heart break that he’s the sole culprit. 

And the sick thing is, despite all this, he still finds you the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, backlit by a halo of fluorescent white that he’s tempted to drop everything he originally planned just to do it right now. 

“O-oh,” you mumble, “sorry, I just thought–” you close your eyes, taking a deep breath, “nevermind, that was stupid of me, Tsum.”

When you open your eyes, a single tear falls, and he tries not to comment on how you wipe it quickly, feigning a smile as you walk past him, mumbling something about making breakfast and preparing his lunch for when he heads out.

And, well, he feels shitty, that’s for sure. One, for making you cry, and two, for even making you think, just for a second, that he doesn’t want to marry you. 

It wasn’t stupid of you to assume he was proposing at all. He’s hinted at it enough in the past few years, calling you ‘the misus’ enough times when mentioning why he’s heading home early from post-game dinners and parties. His Ma keeps a photo of you and him in his childhood home, and Osamu’s given you a family discount at Onigiri Miya now, too (which is only 1% higher than the friends one, but it’s the fact that he considers you as family that makes it feel much larger). 

He likes coming home to you, likes that you don’t force him to do anything. That if he chooses to stay out, it’s all fine by you—he’s just stopped looking for that kind of life anymore; it’s a lot more fun getting to cuddle up on the couch with you. 

His legs still tingle, and he crouches down again with a big sigh. The silver key is there, glistening from the light directed from his phone, and he reaches to grab it, fishing for the metal that, if he’s being quite honest, hasn’t fully served its purpose in the past three years anyway. 

Four years together, and Atsumu has lived with you for most of them. The only reason you still have separate places by name is because of the apartment he owns in Osaka, meant for training season and game days. 

Other than that, home has always been your place. 

And lately, he’s been thinking of moving somewhere where home can now officially be both of yours—it’s the whole reason he was looking for his keys in the first place, with property managers and realtors coming in to assess the space. 

The new place—he’s hoping for it to be somewhere in the middle of both you and him, maybe a bit bigger, who knows? He was planning to ask you about it after the proposal—the one he’s planned and has been trying so hard to keep a secret from you. 

It’s a miracle he’s managed to keep it this hush so far. He’s got the ring, the venue, the speech, and has even asked Osamu to take the video (even though he knows he’ll never let him live down every jitter and stutter he’s bound to make). And the date, the oh-so-important Valentine’s day that you’ll both remember forever. 

The living room is awfully quiet when he steps into it, no sign of you and your usual humming to whatever song’s been stuck in your head. He walks to the kitchen counter, eyeing a plate of eggs with a bit of fried rice; you packed his lunch, just like you always have—fatty tuna with some rice and vegetables on the side.

Atsumu thinks he could cry, his upper lip already trembling as he stares at the piece of paper in front of him. 

Written in your delicate handwriting is a short note: ‘grabbing some grocery, be back later.’ signed with nothing—no ‘love you’, no ‘see you later’, no x’s and o’s. Just nothing. It sucks even more because the grocery is your place, your one escape when he’s upset you enough that you can’t even look at him. 

Yet, you still made him breakfast, and you still packed his lunch—that’s the only thing giving him hope that he hasn’t fully fucked this up. 

.

“Samu, I think am g’na die.” 

The scenery beside him whizzes past quickly, creating a blur of blue, green, and white. His head leans against the window, and he adjusts an earbud, increasing the volume to hear the call better. 

Osamu sighs on the other end, the sound of clinking pans and crinkling plastic muffled in the background. 

“Y’said that t’Ma the last time, what’s it now?” 

Atsumu groans, the memory still fresh in his mind; when he called his Ma a little over three years ago, he was a stuttering mess, breath unsteady and voice shaky at 1:00 a.m. The pounding in his chest would not stop, he thought for sure he was going to have a heart attack. 

His Ma diagnosed him all right, called it a serious case of ‘in love with you’—because, when he recounted everything he could have done to cause any potential uptick of his heart rate, all he could talk about was you. How you held his hand and laughed at his jokes, called him handsome even when he was sweaty and gross; how you nursed him to health even though he was probably stinky and dehydrated from an insane diarrhea episode. 

All these years later, and he’s even more in love with you. 

“I fucked it up, ‘Samu. The plan ‘n everythin’? Poof.” he gestures with his hands, even though he knows audio call doesn’t allow him to be seen. “Dunnow if there’ll even be ‘nyone t’propose to.” 

Then, he tells Osamu everything—the search for his keys, kneeling on the floor, the mistaken proposal but how he would have done it there, how he wanted to but didn’t because he actually managed to plan something and didn’t want to throw it away.

But then he said it all wrong, then you cried, and he really did mess it up; he wasn’t even able to say goodbye. He’s miss-called you thrice and you’ve only replied with ‘can’t talk right now.’ (which he knows is suggested text because you always say ‘later, baby.’ or something else more time-efficient). 

“Ya dumbass,” Osamu sighs again, words still sharp but tone a bit more rounded, “just give it time, ‘n stop catastrophizin’. Y’ve put y’self in stupider situations ‘n hav always made it somehow.” 

Atsumu feels like crying, again, but Osamu’s always right. He lets out a tear or two, maybe a sob for another five minutes, and when he recovers into small sniffles, Osamu tells him to get some sleep to clear his head—he’s holding the line in Onigiri Miya during peak time. 

.

His Osaka apartment feels even emptier than usual even though it shouldn’t be all that different. Meetings with realtors and property managers finished an hour ago and all they need is the go signal from him before they put the property up for lease. 

He was supposed to stay here until the end of the week, to meet with PR for sponsorship deals and brand campaigns throughout the year. But, the only (non-suggested) text he received from you today was an indication that you were home and heading in early for bed (which, he knows is a lie, because a new episode of your favorite show is airing tonight and there’s no way you’re missing it after last week’s cliffhanger). 

And he can’t, just can’t, leave you thinking that he doesn’t want to marry you. 

So he decides, fuck it, and packs it up—books a last minute train ticket back to you and hopes to god that he gets the words right this time. 

. 

He’s never been this nervous in his life. 

The olympics is a close runner-up, but nothing compares to this, standing outside your door with his finger hovering over the doorbell. It’s funny, because he has your keys, knows your passcode too—but it feels wrong entering your space without the assurance that you still want him to. 

What makes him ring the bell is the sickening twist in his stomach that warns him: this fuck-up could make him lose you.

So he presses it once, then twice for good measure, and before he can do it thrice, you’re opening the door, in sweatpants and a hoodie (his hoodie) as you rub the puffiness out of your eyes. 

You’re beautiful like this, too, he thinks—dressed in his clothes, staring at him with those eyes, standing in front of him and looking like the rest of his life. 

“Please don’t break up wit’ me.” 

The words stumble out of him freely, with barely any time for him to process it. Atsumu feels each pounding in his chest and knows now, just as his Ma said, that it’s all the love he has yet to let out.

“I–” he begins, hesitating. He’s still wearing the same joggers and bomber jacket from this morning.

His hands clench into fists and he pushes them in his pockets, unsure what to do with them; the bottom of his lip trembles and it’s starting to make sense why people tell him and Osamu apart by ‘the one who always cries’. 

“T-this mornin’,” he looks up to find you leaning against your door, listening, “Was lookin’ ‘round cos I left mah keys on y’r bedroom floor.” 

You nod, tilting your head to urge him on. 

“And I was kneelin’,” he breathes out, “and y’thought it was somethin’ else, but I said it wasn’t. And I shouldn’t ‘av ‘cos it came out all wrong and it wasn’t what I planned. Then ya cried but still made me breakfast ‘n lunch and it was good, just like everythin’ ya make is. But ya went to the grocery, and baby,” he chokes up, tears falling, “‘m sorry. S’not what I meant. Please don’t break up wit’ me.” 

Atsumu is a bumbling, stumbling, stuttering mess as he cries in front of you, his incoherent rambling a jumble of all his mixed-up feelings. He’s sure he looks dumb as hell right now, a fully grown man in tears at your door—but your brows furrow in concern, jaw tightening as the pout on your lips deepens. Then, you take a step closer, arms stretched out to pull him into your shoulder for a hug. 

This is why Atsumu loves you—

This is why Atsumu has never been more sure of the future he wants. 

—because, even when he’s fucked things up and has made an absolute mess of himself, you’re always there, picking him right back up. 

“T’sokay Tsum,” you hush, rubbing circles on his back, “there’s no need to explain.” 

He sniffles, tucking his face against your neck. It’s impossible to miss the sadness underlying your comfort. 

You’re wrong—it’s not okay, and he absolutely has to explain. 

After he’s calmed down and the tears have subsided, he pulls away, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand and apologizing for all the snot he left on your hoodie. 

You look confused and a little bit surprised as he takes a step back away from you, his hand immediately reaching inside the pocket of his joggers. 

“Y’know I can’t keep anythin’ from ya, right, baby?” he flashes you a small smile, a little nervous. 

You nod, because it’s true. Not a single birthday or celebration has ever surprised you because Atsumu’s always ruined it; he just can’t keep a secret from you. Either that, or things just never go accordingly. 

“Well, I kept this one real good. Planned it ‘n all. Had everythin’ set.”

The velvet box in his pocket is smooth to the touch, his fingers turning it over. It feels tangible and real now, a moment’s away from his life being changed, forever. 

He feels like crying again. 

“Was g’na do it on Valentine’s, ‘cos I had it all rehearsed ‘n shit.” 

Realization dawns on your face, eyes wide and your chest caught on hold—as if you’re expecting the wrong assumption again. 

But when Atsumu gets down on one knee, reaching from his pocket to present to you a ring hidden in red velvet, his fingers tremble when he says, “Know s’not Valentine’s, but can I be your forever Valentine?” 

You blink once, then the tears fall—the smile on your face is a little bit wobbly but an awful lot in love. You kneel on the floor with him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss.

The both of you are a tear-y mess on the floor, but when you part, he leans his forehead against yours, ring held up between his fingers as he asks just to be extra sure, “So… s’not a goodbye kiss is it?” 

You smack him on the chest before slipping in your finger. 

“S’a yes kiss, Tsum.”

thank you notes: @augustinewrites for suffering through this atsumu train with me & @soumies + @mysugu for helping me with tsumu characterisation and for listening to me ramble abt this fic!!

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[trohpi]

moonwater au where regulus is trans and his periods happen to occur around the full moon. when he befriends remus, remus immediately thinks that hes also a werewolf because of all the “signs” (ie being irritable and in pain around the full, refusing to change around others, knowing how to get blood stains out, etc)

and hes so excited to find someone else like him that he just sort of,,, tracks regulus down one day and is like “i know your secret” and regulus, thinking that remus figured out hes trans, freezes. he panics internally, his mind whirring with how much does he know? and who will he tell? but most of all, what lie can i tell that will be convincing enough for remus lupin to believe?

so when remus continues, saying “i know youre a werewolf too” regulus just sort of,,, goes with it. hes all “yup yup yup, totally a werewolf, thats my big secret, you caught me” and remus is just relieved that he finally has someone to talk about it with. because sure, he can complain to sirius and james and peter about the transformations, but its not the same as talking with someone who actually experiences it, who actually lives it.

and its when they start having these talks that regulus realizes that, funnily enough, being a trans man is not all that different from being a werewolf. when remus talks about looking in the mirror and seeing someone elses body, regulus gets it. and when regulus talks about the fear of losing your friends if they discover who you are, remus gets it too. its a weight off of both of their shoulders, having someone that relates so deeply to their experiences, and they start to become close. really close.

eventually remus starts acting different around him, small touches and lingering glances filling their time together, and regulus begins to feel guilty. immensely guilty. hes been deceiving remus, listening to him divulge his innermost secrets under false pretenses, and now remus has feelings for him. nevermind the fact that regulus returns said feelings, because thats irrelevant. after remus discovers hes been lying this whole time, about being a werewolf and about being a cis man, he wont want regulus anyways. and its not like he deserves his love, not with how cruel regulus is and how kind remus is.

then remus tries to kiss him, and regulus cant do it anymore. he starts crying and admits he was lying the entire time, that hes not a werewolf, that hes actually a trans man, and hell understand if remus doesnt want him anymore. remus is quiet for a moment out of pure shock before he just starts laughing. like folded over, belly-aching laughing. and regulus is internally panicking the entire time but remus just cant help it. he thinks back to every “sign” he ever noticed and cant believe that he missed this. finally he calms down just enough to collect himself and looks to regulus, who is still panicking, and says “i guess our times of the month arent quite so similar afterall”

regulus bursts into startled laughter and remus cant help but join him, but then tears of relief start clouding regulus’ eyes because he was so sure remus would hate him. so, so sure, but he doesnt and the relief is overwhelming. then remus pulls him into a tight hug, and he thinks maybe theyre alright.

[romanreignsbae]

Forbidden Desires - Chapter 1

R.R

Y/n was always what everyone considered blessed. Now, being the assistant for the tribal chief had it’s perks. For starters, you rode around in his luxurious bus, that only few people were allowed on.

You also, were granted with being able to fly on private jets to get from place to place, as well as exquisite hotel rooms booked and paid for.

Especially your schedule. Roman Reigns wasn't showing up to every pay per view. Not even every Friday night SmackDown. He made appearances when he felt like it. So you were usually home, that didn't mean you were off work, you had other things to handle.

Many people wanted to be you, or at least wanted your job. While these people we’re wanting your job and status, you were wanting the man you worked for, your boss, none other then Roman Reigns.

You’d been working for him for almost 4 years now. Ever since he pursued his heel character, you’d been hired as his assistant. Being his assistant wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought. You thought he’d order you around to do his dirty work, but working for him was nicer then excepted.

All you really did was keep track of his hectic schedule, pack his luggage for him, and follow him around during meetings and travels...even taking care of something he claimed to be more important then work. And not to mention the money was a plus. He paid you better then you deserved, you swore it was favouritism, for obvious reasons.

Over the years you worked for him, you two created a special bond. Yes, he was your boss. But, he was also your friend. You two would often spend time together even during non work related times. You could find the both of you at a bar together. Or having movie nights in each other’s hotel rooms. You loved it. And maybe loved him..

The only problem in your way was the age gap you two shared. You were in your early twenties whereas Roman was on the verge of 40. The age gap wasn’t even a big deal to you. But, if others found out you’d grown feelings for your boss. All hell would break loose. See, Roman, is extraordinarily popular with females.

Like seriously, he has some die hard female fans. Most around your age. If anyone found out about this little crush you’d developed..well..you’d for starters be fired, and your reputation would be completely destroyed.

So here you are, sitting in the tribal chief’s private jet, waiting to land in Las Vegas. “Alright, only about a hour to go” a familiar deep voice spoke. You looked up to see Roman sitting comfortably in his seat, staring intently at you. “Yeah..” you mumbled.

“Whats up with you? You been like this all flight, completely out of it. What’s wrong are you sick? Do you have a fever? The flu? Is- nevermind..” Roman spoke worried. “No no, im good” you spoke as reassuringly as you could. He looked at you skeptically before closing his Macbook and making his way to sit beside you.

He sat beside you and looked at you for a few seconds before speaking up. “What’s planned for today?” he asked you. You quickly opened your Ipad before checking his schedule. “Well..today your free, tomorrow you have a meeting in the afternoon, its a long one” you told him.

“Damn, I hate the long meetings” he spoke with a smile. “They are the worst” you agreed grinning. “Anyways, since i’m free today, why don’t you and I head out, go do something fun together, away from work..you know after we get settled in..” he spoke almost nervously.

You were surprised to say the least. You didn’t think he would wanna spend his free day with you. “Yeah sure. What do you wanna do?” you asked him while trying to hide your growing smile. “Anything you want. Actually you know what? Lemme take you shopping, Las Vegas is known for their malls” he requested with a wink. Your cheeks started heating up.

“Sure” you spoke softly. He smiled at you before striking up new conversation about some investors looking to partner with WWE. It kept yourself distracted from the mess in your mind. Before you knew it, you landed in Las Vegas, and your uber was here to take you and Roman to the hotel.

Once you arrived to your hotel, you and Roman headed to the front desk to get the keys to your rooms.

“I’m sorry sir but, only one room has been booked-” the hotel worker spoke.

“That cant be! You don’t understand, I called yesterday booking two rooms!” Roman spoke roughly at the worker. Your feelings were hurt to say the least. You didn’t think he’d be this avoidant at sharing a room with you, especially after the favor you did him. You instantly felt your heart swelling and tears coming to your eyes.

You refused to cry over this so you grabbed Roman’s arm. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom, i’ll be right back” you spoke softly. Roman slightly nodded his head before going back to barking at the hotel employee.

You took as long as you could trying to get yourself together in the bathroom. You had just arrived is Les Vegas and he was already making you feel like shit. You didn’t even understand what the problem was. Well, deep down you did...you knew he didn't wanna make the same mistake.

You made your way back to the lobby to see a more calm and quiet Roman standing by the elevators.

“So Y/n..they are all booked and it looks like me and you are roommates for the next few nights” he told me. “I’m really sorry..” he added ashamed.

Your eyes widened. Why was he sorry? He didn’t even do anything. Well apart side from almost making you cry, but thats besides the point.

“Roman..why are you sorry? It’s just a room..no biggie” you spoke, plus it's not like you haven't shared one before.

“Because well, I don’t want you to feel like i’m taking advantage of you..and I don’t wanna make things awkward and weird between us..” he went on nervously.

You both knew he was lying straight through his teeth. That wasn't the real reason.

You took his words in before responding. You reached out and touched his arm reassuringly. “Ro, that’s okay, seriously I don’t mind.” you let him know. You'd be careful this time. He smiled at you almost gratefully knowing you understood.

The hotel room the two of you would be sharing was nothing less then absolutely luxurious. But you weren't surprised, the tribal chief always needed the best.

After the two of you settled into your hotel room, Roman called for an Uber to take you two to the mall. Inside the uber Roman and you made small talk back and forth but no one could deny the elephant in the room.

A little secret the two of you shared was up in the air. Something no one could know about...otherwise everything would be ruined. He warned you, if anyone found out what the two of you shared, it was over.

Everything was.

That was the first chapter of forbidden desires that I've been putting off. I have a lot more sitting in my drafts for you guys that'll be out soon. Also what do you think the little secret is? Let me know what you think of this chapter.

[sharkiethrts]

short prompt: dancing and singing ('vulgar', as sunday would call it) songs with sunday

relations: sunday x reader, robin mentioned at the end!

Notes: modern au. Highschool prom au? You can interpret this however- even Sunday going to a club for the first time (how did you convince him, even?) Nevermind, maybe a house party is more fitting? Sunday doesn't have his wings here since it's supposed to be modern au. Did not reread this by the way, so grammatical errors wouldn't be surprising.

warnings: borderline suggestive??? to be honest, it's just the lyrics of 'california girls' that you should be worried about haha Reader is gender neutral by the way (but if there is any insinuated of gender in the story I may have missed, please correct me!)

-------------

Walking into the crowded room, the blaring music and the rising temperature caused by the throng of students accumulating in one spot overtakes you. You try to stand on your tiptoes, eyes squinting to gauge how far you are from your goal- the dancefloor. You're far. Like, remarkably far.

You had planned to enter much earlier, discarding your coat at the coat-rack placed not-so-meticulously at an inconvenient spot behind the door, yet your diligent partner just couldn't let it be. Although Sunday has tried to seem more laidback while he was courting you (as he'd call it, you tried to call it 'chase' once, while abbreviating the blooms of your love story to your friends at a housewarming party, but he cut you off rather curtly- claiming that it made him sound predatory- he seemed offended when you laughed at that).

Nevertheless, he went on to smoothing out both your coats, folding them (in a way you've only seen store employees do) carefully and then stuffing them into a bag he had brought. The bag is then hung carefully at the middle of the rack, careful to not trip the other clumsily placed jackets of your mutual friends (some unknown to you, you realise now- Jess has always been popular).

You swear that he would have done the same to the rest of the coats if it weren't for the fact you pulled him incessantly by his arm, shooting him pouting looks and an annoyed cry.

You shoot your partner a brief glare, he returns a confused look right back at you but not bothering to ask for further details- you do have quite the idiosyncrasy only belonging to you, he reasons. Your interaction is cut short by the switch of the songs. Sunday seemed rather disappointed, it had been Robin's newest song after all. But it seems that you two came in too late (you'd pity him if it weren't for him suffering from the consequences of his own actions).

You, however, are absolutely beaming. California Girls.

You pulled him by his sleeve (you're not quite sure why he chose a stiff button-up for this occasion, but then again- you don't think he has any other attire that'd be suitable for this), "You sing right?" You say over the noise.

"What?" He doesn't seem to hear.

"You sing! You told me before- you were in a choir!" You scream this time, he seems to understand now- shaking his head to refuse.

"Sippin gin and juice!" You ignore him, taking the lead. He shakes his head, saying something like how it's too 'vulgar' and how the 'lyrics are disrespectful and have objectifying undertones'. You roll your eyes, "Tryna creep a little sneak peek- At us!"

You encourage him more, flashing your most earnest look (you do feel rather earnest, the only time you've ever heard him sing was when you had a nightmare, he had hummed you to sleep- but other than that? Nothing else. No lyrics, no nothing. Since then, you have been rather adamant on pushing more out of him.

He seems to have been convinced (weak, you'd tease- if it weren't for the fact that Sunday is petty enough to never sing again just for that) and you wait for him to join in, "But nothing comes close to the golden coast," Your eyes gleam at the gentle tune of his voice, with an expertly tuned technique. He makes this song sounds holy, even.

"Once you party with us," You lead on, leaning in with a teasing push on your knees, your hands moving to grasp at his shoulders. He reciprocates by holding onto your back, completing your line, "You'll be falling in love"

Exhilarated by his concession, you let out an off tune and off time plethoras of 'oh's, to which he had laughed at- eyes wrinkled and head slightly thrown back- messing up his neatly combed long hair.

You grin. This was going to be a night.

You grip at his hand with your other, feeling the clammy surface of it. You realise he's nervous, baring his feelings like no other. He must be unfamiliar with the closeness of it all, with the downright sexual lyrics spilling out of his mouth at this point.

You lean in by his ear, breath hitting where he shivers.

"Sex on the beach," His cheeks bloom red- alongside with his ears that now look bruised in purple and red. He tries to pull back, definitely to scold you for your 'indecency'. You don't let him, ". We don't mind sand in our stilettos."

By the end of the night, you forgot your coats at the rack, walking home singing your surfeit of Katy Perry songs.

You remember to film a clip of Sunday belting the lyrics of 'Last Friday Night'. To which you sent to Robin, where she responded with long series of questions.

Funny, to think that you had been to shy to ever talk to her before this. Where she had given you her phone number when Sunday had first introduced you in a cafe. You had thought that she was just exchanging polite platitudes, to which Sunday refuted that Robin had been genuinely lonely.

With her excited response, you finally start to believe him.

'Send me more! You have more, right?!' to 'Where were you? Invite me next time! We should go together!"

You grin, it's the next morning (scratch that, it's one) and your feet are sore from the dancing (Sunday had spun you around once, you think he told you- 'it's my rendition of the galopede of the 1820s').

You call her, to which she picks up immediately, "He vomited the moment we came home," Was the first thing you said.

She understood you immediately, "He drank?"

"Vodka. Even took his part in games- won his first note, I'd wager."

You spent the whole afternoon recounting the night to her, to which she swooned and battered you up for more.

"Ah." You paused for a second.

"What is it?!" By this point, Robin has forgotten about her upcoming rehearsal in fifteen, to which she always comes thirty minutes early. She missed that mark fifteen minutes ago.

"I think we may have left our coats at Jess' house."

Robin completely lost it at that. So worth it.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Can we get a pining villain out in their civilian clothes when they bump into hero (also in civilian clothes) and recognizes them immediately, but hero doesn’t and starts friendly conversation while villain is both unsure of what to do and secretly crushing? Sorry if that’s an odd request ahhhh ^^;

Oh god.

“Jeez, I’m so sorry-” The hero picked up the books and shoved them back into the villain’s arms awkwardly. “I don’t know where my head is today, I didn’t…nevermind, the books aren’t dirty or anything? Library hates dog ears.”

The villain shook their head slowly. They hadn’t even checked.

“And you’re okay? Not hurt or anything? I didn’t hurt you, right?”

Again, the villain shook their head, even though their shoulder was pulsing in pain. The hero was quite strong. Stronger than they looked, definitely. It wasn’t like the villain had been obsessed with the idea of finding out their civilian persona.

They knew of other villains who dedicated their entire being to finding out absolute everything about their nemesis. But for the most time, the villain didn’t want to know anything about them.

They didn’t want to know what they did or whom they talked to. Or when they were visiting friends or lovers. When they went on dates or when they broke up with someone.

Because, ultimately, it wasn’t any of their business, right? And they weren’t on such a low level to force a foul gameplay onto them. Blackmailing them, kidnapping lovers…the villain didn’t like that.

However, now that they stood in front of the hero, they weren’t quite sure what to say nor what to do. They had recognised them immediately. Their widened eyes, their fingers. At first they hadn’t been sure but some scars gave the hero away.

They were obviously hiding them, pulling down sleeves and shifting a little — it was a habit the villain was used to too.

“I’m sorry again. I’m probably taking up a lot of your time already but do we know each other?” the hero asked suddenly. They tilted their head, just like last Wednesday when the villain had explained to them how to identify a fake bomb. The sunlight was hitting the hero’s eyes just right but this was probably some cruel joke from above.

The hero was one of those popular people probably. Popular at school, at work, in the neighbourhoods. Someone everyone loved, someone who was so sweet they were rotting teeth left and right.

Months ago, the villain had thought they were jealous of them but that was wrong. They were enchanted by them, wondering how a person who had gone through hell and back was still able to be kind.

“No…”

“Are you sure? You seem very familiar to me,” the hero said. They were curious, seemed intrigued by the villain. Their backstory wasn’t a secret. Everyone knew about the troubled childhood, the kidnapping and the trading. Being raised like cattle.

Everyone knew.

And the villain could relate. Opening up about it was difficult but they felt like the hero could understand, they could love them despite everything.

If the villain was even worthy of that kind of affection. They closed their eyes, trying to throw that thought into a bin.

“…I’m just a tourist,” the villain lied. Their neck was getting embarrassingly hot. Why was the hero staring at them like that? They’d never seen their expression be so soft, had never seen the little scar above their brow. Somehow, this felt like a prank.

“Hm, well, I’m really sorry for bothering you then.” The hero’s eyes fell down to the books and back up. A hint of a smile decorated their face and for a second, the hero just stood there in front of them with the busy sounds of the city passing by. “For how long are you staying?”

“…I am departing tomorrow.”

“Oh? Back home?”

“Yeah…” This was going terribly. The villain swallowed. They felt like a teenager again, too awkward to talk to their crush. In costume it was a little different. They could allow themselves to put on a show and pretend to be eccentric. But here they felt so…exposed.

“Pardon me, this is probably a little abrupt but…” Suddenly, the hero took a step forward. Their hand reached the villain’s wrist, soft fingers finding a scar a little too quickly. “…you’re really pretty.”

They looked up into the villain’s eyes.

“And by the way…the library doesn’t like it when tourists take books home either. Sending them back is such a hassle.” They tapped onto the copy on top, a volume of The Divine Comedy the villain had grabbed almost mindlessly. The hero took a step back, smiling. “See you soon, then.”

Oh god. They knew.

[thechekhov]

Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts

Monster Tidbits: 3 & 4

Forgot to do this for some of them so I'm going back and getting the ones up through chapter 28

I read this tidbit and immediately went 'how close ARE squid and octopus phylogenetically?' And it turns out they're kinda close, but also. Vampire squids are closely related to octopods! Moreso than to other squids. That's neat!

Anyway.

The dungeon and its vast resources are really wasted on hack-n-slash adventurers. It feels like only Senshi really appreciates how much you can strip and use from such a large animal.

Though I suppose the ecosystem gets it in the end anyway so it's not a complete waste....

I'd forgotten Laios hates kraken lmao.

.................dude really pointed a sperm tube at his own face and shot a load at his forehead. Incredible. World's least sexy facial, confirmed. Congrats, Laios. That's the worst anyone's ever done it, buddy.

Chillchuck, you only live to be like, 40. Maybe stop trying to reinvent the wheel capitalism in your lifetime....

Meaning Chillchuck can live to be poor enough to travel with them another day! Hoorah!

...can this translator just not ever spell the word tentacles?

You don't need a brain to grow in good places. You just need to grow in good places and survive to have progeny that also favors good places to procreate and then-- ah, nevermind. Why am I explaining evolutionary pressure to a manga.

You did your best, buddy.

didn't you guys encounter mermaids? Or were those... sirens...?

hang on, what do you mean they die?!! Just from being the first one to hear it?!

Oh, wait, you mean like, they hear it and jump in first? Damn.

Ah, right, they're completely different species.

go, girl, get your calories.

.........how much mana can a dragon store, huh marcille. How much.

no need to brag....

need me that meme of a fat kitten that's full of milk, but make it Namari, full of mana.........

I was gonna say 'fluffy pitbull' but then I saw 'clever'.... ah, bully breeds. Braincells are in short supply.

GET. THAT. MAN. A. PUBBY.

Listen, you. Laios is a treasure, you hear me? He's a treasure. He's also way too much of a freak for you to reason with. Just leave him alone with his warg plans.

Bag of Holding MIGHT actually be the most broken thing there is. Hm.

THE BULLYING! WHO IS IT FOR?! WHY ARE YOU GANGING UP ON HIM

Laios: If I can't be THE MOST OBSESSED then what's even the point?

King shit. Absolutely pathetic meow meow. There is so much wrong with him.

[armpirate]

Kalla || Choi San

pairing: Choi San x fem!reader || Strangers

w.c.: 5.2k

Warnings: Smut, softdom!San x sub!reader, teasing, protected sex, soft bondage, tickler, dirty talk, rough sex, mentions of voyeurism, swingers and BDSM. If you're a minor, refrain from reading it. Also, if you don't like this content, just keep scrolling.

Summary: The calla lily has a fair amount of symbols related to it. And the owner of the hotel you were sent to work to chose to use the hidden lustful, sexy and sensual meaning of it.

You struggled with trying to do many things at the same time: getting the luggage out of the cab’s truck, all while trying to keep your Gucci bag still hanging on your arm, holding your phone against your ear, and trying to look as neat and professional as you could manage to. 

It was a challenge.

The fact that the cab driver didn’t even bother to get out of the vehicle to help you, and just limited himself to look through the rearview, pressuring you to end fast, was annoying you. Huffing once your things were out, and closing the truck as hard as you could, showing off your frustration, got you wondering if you’d have reacted the same way in any other circumstances. 

Back home, you were in the middle of moving out from the apartment you shared with your -now- ex boyfriend, all while processing that he chose to cheat on you the same day you needed support the most after being rejected for a project you were looking forward to. Yet the Marketing manager, and also your friend, thought it’d be a good idea to make you travel all the way from home to Seoul to get you to talk with a possible new client -that was planning to open a new hotel in London. 

“How was the flight?” Lizzie casually asked.

“Oh, it was great” you answered, the irony in your tone already getting your friend ready for your complaints. “Out of all the people in the plane, I was the only one who had a massage chair, which worked with the feet of a diabolic little kid” all the excitement that Lizzie built in mid sentence, dropped down as you finished up. 

It seemed like the universe was urging you to give up on everything you had ever wanted. Marriage? Your boyfriend cheated on you and destroyed the four-year relationship you two had. Family? If it wasn’t enough to see your brother’s wife lose her tiny bit of sanity because of your nephews, you kept crossing paths with kids and parents that made you reconsider that deep wish of ever starting a family. 

At that point, you only craved peace

You sighed, trying to regain some calmness that you seemed to have left at Heathrow. “Who is the client?”. You remembered his name was discussed in one of the meetings, but you were too distracted to pay enough attention -in your defense, you didn’t think that project would be yours anyway. 

“Kalla” was written in big, with neat letters, sophisticatedly brightened by white lights, that also allowed the dark golden borders to shine, over the big revolving door. 

Lizzie finally spoke again “He’s young, Asian…” you had to interrupt her when you heard that, because there was no way she used that only to describe.

“Well, no shit Sherlock, I’m in Seoul”  you threw your head back, trying to not let your annoyance get the worst of you. “Nevermind, I’ll just ask for the owner” that’d definitely work better, and faster, than waiting for your friend to give details and explanations that could work out for you. And it wasn’t like you had the patience either.

After hanging up the phone, and dragging your things inside the hotel, you were surprised by the delicate reception that reeked of expensiveness.Maybe it was the high walls that seemed to have no ending, the white marble floor, or the big calla lily flower that adorned the curved black stairs to the first floor. 

Heading to the huge counter across the reception, you supported your weight on it, getting the attention of a well dressed woman, who placed her waistcoat properly before speaking to you “I’m looking for the owner of the hotel. I’m Y/n, a representative from Youth. I had a meeting scheduled with him”.

The woman, all while smiling, nodded and checked on the computer hidden underneath the counterpart, confirming everything you’ve just said “Yes, here it is. But unfortunately Mr. Choi is busy right now. I’m afraid he won’t be able to meet with you until tomorrow morning”

Great. You tried your best at holding yourself back from rolling your eyes. It wasn’t like it was going to change your plans that much, because you wouldn’t be flying back home until two days later. But the plan was to have the first contact meeting as you arrived, and spend the next day exploring the hotel and discussing what objectives he had for his new hotel in London. You could still do all that tomorrow, but the slight change of plans -that messed with the strict schedule you settled to yourself- irked you. 

“I’ll give you your room key” she announced, after you agreed on waiting for him. “Our spa is open until nine, just like the pool. The pub is open until three. And if you crave something yummy, the room service is available all day.” pointing the way towards the lifts on the left, she said “Your room is the 115 on the second floor. Hope you enjoy your stay” said that, she bowed and waited for you to leave. 

When you got to your room, you wondered if you were getting a special treatment, or if all the rooms were alike. Because fucking hell. As you let your body dive in the fluffy mattress, you took a look around. Despite the black walls, the room still looked quite big for just one person. The decoration was quite minimalistic, following the white, yellow and black tones that you had already seen in the reception. In one corner of the room, next to the TV, you saw a black and white painting with a calla lily flower on it. And, considering the name of the hotel was “Kalla”, it made sense that their decoration focused on that flower in particular. Resting your head back on the mattress, you were finally aware of the several small mirrors on the ceiling, that could form one big mirror altogether if you looked properly. It was definitely a place to share with a partner, and Lizzie was so cruel for giving this work to you after what happened…

Rubbing that thought away, or at least trying to, you opened your luggage. It was eight, and it wasn’t like you were starving -because you made sure to stop somewhere to get something to eat before the supposed meeting-, but you needed a drink. And you were planning on staying in that pub until three. 

You weren’t exactly planning on clubbing while in Seoul, or going out for drinks, so your clothes were focused on serious meetings and casual clothes. You tried your best at combining both, to get a decent look before you went downstairs with a pair of jeans, a lilac blouse and a pair of black stilettos -that got you regretting your decision of wearing them after fifteen minutes, rushing yourself to sit on the first free stool you saw. 

San came back to the hotel where he spent most of his time, greeting the employees that were chattering behind the counter at the reception before heading directly to the open pub at the other side of the hall. 

The atmosphere there was always… exciting. And he loved the huge variety of people that were there. From couples enjoying their time before they jumped straight to their rooms or single people that were looking for someone to spend the night with, to those who found joy only looking at others. Or so that was the typical thing there. Of course, there were exceptions, like the woman who was sitting at the corner of the counter, too focused on her own drink to bother herself by lifting her eyes from it. 

And while he’d have ignored her to show some feedback to the women who had their eyes on him already, there was something in her aura that instantly attracted him to her. 

“The same as always?” the bartender asked, receiving a short nod from San before he took the spot next to you. 

He peeked at your drink, or what was remaining from it, and puckered his lips in approval. He had worked several years as a bartender to know that your drink was a Sex on the beach. The bitter taste of vodka, mixed with the fruity flavor of peach and cranberries was sexy. And the suggestive name of the drink was pretty much in line with the concept of the hotel. 

Yet you seemed completely uninterested in anyone. So he wondered if you were one of those who liked to go solo but being watched by others. Maybe that was your thing. 

“A pic will last longer” you caught him off guard by your comment, finally raising your eyes from the glass to the attractive man in front of you.

“I was just checking your drink”

“You know that sounds suspicious as fuck” you squinted your eyes at him.

You’ve dealt with several assholes while partying, those who’d do anything to get their dick wet -and you meant absolutely anything. But that man didn’t seem like one of those. Despite his harsh looks, you could find some kindness underneath. Maybe it was the way he was smiling, and the dimples that formed perfectly on each one of his cheeks before he spoke again. 

“That’s not what I meant” he got momentarily interrupted by the waiter handing him a short, but wide, glass of what you thought could be whiskey. “I just thought it was a good choice”

Lifting your drink a bit, you twisted your lips “Honestly, it seemed to be the softest drink in the menu” you had a high tolerance to alcohol, you just hated the excessive taste of it. 

“I’m San, by the way”

“Y/n”

San nodded again, scanning his eyes all over your body. Unable to not admire the way those jeans fitted perfectly in your curves, embracing your legs and ass on that stool, while his eyes avoided to be too obvious when they landed on your small cleavage -although, from his perspective, he could see more than enough to know that what you were hiding underneath was too good to hide it.

“I guess you come here often” you muttered, making him look at you with frowned eyes. “He said he’d get you the same as always”.

“So you like listening to others’ conversations” he teased you.

“More like, I’m an observer by nature” which was a requirement for your job. 

San nodded, curious about your response. You were a flirt, but it was so unconscious and natural from you that he could tell you didn’t belong to that place. Yet at the same time you fitted so perfectly. 

He could also tell you weren’t that good of an observer, because you seemed to be completely unaware of the three men that had their eyes on you two since he approached you. Or maybe you were aware, and he was just lucky that you were playing along with his game. 

“What about you?” he took a sip from his drink. “What brings you here?”

“Business” you nodded. “I had to meet with someone for a project, but the asshole didn’t dare to show up and didn’t even bother to inform me beforehand. So I’m here, killing time”

Minutes went by, letting him invite you for another drink when he also asked for another one for him, while you two just talked about anything. You swore you had never been that comfortable with anyone before, not even your ex boyfriend. Talking with San was so easy and fluent, it was like there was no way the conversation could die, because you two always managed a way to connect the previous topic to a new one. 

Well, that, and the fucking tension. You caught his eyes flying to your lips more than once while speaking, licking his own before smirking. And you’d done the right same thing a little too many times as well. He also touched your knee a few times, and you weren’t sure if he had done it on purpose or not, but the tickles in your stomach were dying for him to stick his hand there -accidentally or not. Something was pulling you to each other, but your own restrictions kept stopping any kind of move forward. 

You didn’t know San was convinced of winning that inner battle you had, no matter what. And, maybe, you were willing to lose for once, as well.

“So you don’t like rough drinks” he brought up again.

“Picky taste, they call it” you joked, moving the short straw in circles. 

He wondered if that was the only thing you didn’t like to be rough. 

San then took a drink, and you were so lost on the way his Adam’s apple moved as he gulped the drink, that you were unable to control yourself.

Fuck whatever inner battle you were having.

“But… can I try it?” you asked.

Without hesitation, San turned to you and offered you his glass. Instead, you moved to him, both of your hands enclosing around his neck before you link both of your lips together. You wanted to forget about that lame pick up line you pulled, but most importantly, you needed to know if his lips felt as good on yours as you had been imagining for almost an hour. And fuck they did. The heart-shaped form molding on yours as if you had been destined to meet that night. 

To your surprise, he answered your kiss, just as hungry and needy as you. Soon turning more possessive, controlling. You started the kiss, but he took control of it as his hands pressed on each side of your waist.

You weren’t a big fan of one night stands. You hated the idea of going to bed with a total stranger, even kissing one put you in a tough position. But something about San kept drawing you to him. You weren’t sure if it was the taste of whiskey every time his tongue twirled on yours, the way his thumb rubbed on your sides, or the heat that he was able to create with just his presence. But you were ready for everything he could give you.

“Should we take this somewhere?” he asked, breathless.

Yes, please.

But you didn’t beg out loud. You simply nodded, trying to guess how you’d stand up without falling down. Because your legs felt weak as hell at that point. 

The big question was where. You had too many important documents in your room, regarding that hotel project, to mess it all up because you were horny enough to invite a hook up in there. 

But again, he chose on your behalf, holding your hand to guide you towards the lifts you’d taken not that long ago. Your mind was too busy thinking about all the sinful things you wanted to do to him, to worry about your drinks not being paid. Your mind was filled with him, and when you got inside that elevator, his name intensified so deep in your brain that you couldn’t help but jump again on him, earning a chuckle from him against your lips that sent shiverings all over your body. And those only increased when he pressed you against the cold wall.

“Patience” he gasped, holding your hands on each side of your head when your fingers rushed to unbutton his black velvety waistcoat. “Don’t tell me I’ll have to teach you what that is”.

“Well, I’m quite a restless ass, so…” you managed to say under your breath.

That response, the way you tilted your head… You were one hell of a tease, and he knew he’d have a lot of fun with you tonight. 

All his sinful thoughts, filled with all of the things he wanted to do to you, were interrupted by the bell of the lift when you two got to the top floor. 

Sucking on your lower lip one last time, he held your hand and guided you down the hall. And with every step, you found yourself more nervous, but also excited and eager for what was to come. It was your first time ever hooking up with a man that you had just met, but you were ready for everything you two could offer to each other. 

San moved the key card skillfully over the magnet, unlocking the door to his room. You held your breath, trying to get as much air as possible as you were waiting for another kiss. But, instead, he invited you in and followed you from behind, closing the door and turning the lights off. 

His room was like yours, but reversed. Just a few things changed in the distribution, like the bathroom -instead of being at the left like yours, his was at the right. 

There was a moment of silence, thick and heavy, almost unbearable by the way he was looking at you with such intensity. The sound of the heels of his shoes hitting against the wooden floor made your heart beat a bit faster, leaving you close to pass out when he stood in front of you. 

His warm breath caressed your forehead, while his fingers pulled from your blouse, taking it out of your jeans before they moved up to those small white buttons. He unbuttoned each one, eyes focused on yours, as if he were wanting to say all the things he was planning for that night with them. He stopped his job though, moving his fingers upwards to your jaw, making a burning trail from that spot to your collarbones, moving the fabric enough to expose part of your shoulder before his fingers trailed down. He traced the curve of your breast, so slowly that it was painful, moving over the space between your tits, stopping at the place where he stopped unbuttoning your shirt. 

“Get naked for me” he demanded, but in such a sweet tone that it felt like honey to your ears.

As you nodded, he stepped back, only taking off the waistcoat you tried to rip off back in the elevator, throwing it somewhere in the room, before taking a seat over the edge of the bed. 

You took your heels off while you fought with the buttons left of your blouse, moving down to fight with your jeans when the upper fabric was long gone. You got naked in a new record time, but he stopped you when you finally took off your bra. Lifting two fingers in the air, he motioned you to start walking towards him. 

“We have all night, babe” he assured you, placing you in between his open legs, before you almost lost all balance when his tongue swirled around your nipple. 

He loved the way your body reacted to him almost instantly, feeling the buttons getting hard on his tongue with just a few moves, while you were trying your best at hiding your pleasure expression from him. Although, all that stopped when his lips closed around one of them. San was fast getting drunk from your taste, your reaction and that subtle coconut smell that was mixed with your arousal scent. Changing from one button to the other, he started slipping your panties down, making your skin burn with the way his fingers barely touched you on their way down. 

You felt a throb shaking you up from head to toe when his lips got in contact with your belly for the first time.

“Lay on the bed” he demanded.

You just did what he said. Feeling good over him having that amount of power over you, strangely excited by how you were fully naked in front of him while he was still completely clothed -although he was fighting against the knot of his tie while he walked around the bed. 

When he took out some pieces of the headboard to show off two long chains that came from each side, you instantly sat up. 

“Why does your room have this?” 

San looked at you confused for one second. All rooms had all kinds of sex toys or accessories, they were just hidden for the customer’s comfort and to keep the elegance of the hotel itself. “I’m sure yours has it, too”.

You still looked confused, because why the hell would a hotel have chains on the headboard of its beds.

“This hotel is designed for this, and aimed at people into this type of thing” he bothered to explain, kneeling next to you on the bed. “I thought you knew it”.

He knew there was something strange about you the second he laid his eyes on your body back in the pub, but he never thought it’d be that you were completely unaware of the hotel’s nature.

It was something that you’d have known if you had held the meeting with the owner, but you didn’t. 

“We can stop it all right now” you heard him say.

And despite being confused about what was happening, you still rushed to stop him from moving. Could be you were too into that man, too lost in his inverted triangle torso under that white shirt, or the way his bulge marked under his slacks, but you didn’t really want it to stop. 

“I want to go on” you assured him, instantly earning a sided smile from him. 

He stretched the black tie in his hands, looking at you with a careful gaze “Whenever you’re unsure, uncomfortable… If you just want to stop, use the safe word, calla, and I’ll stop. Understood?”.

After seeing you nodding, he wrapped his tie around your head, covering your eyes with the black and thick fabric. Gently, he pushed you towards the mattress, with two fingers against your chest, until you were finally lying down. 

With your eyes covered, you felt like your other senses multiplied per ten. You could perfectly hear the sound of the thin chains rubbing against the metallic headboard, you could feel the light weight of each one of the handcuffs next to your wrists as San placed himself on top of you. 

He closed the two puffy handcuffs around you, restricting your moves, but also making sure they wouldn’t be that tight to hurt you. 

Your back momentarily arched when you felt something light and soft caressing your skin, tracing an invisible line from your jaw, down to your neck and collarbones. San found delightful the way your body responded to the plastic flower running over your body. It was all your subtle responses that made him twitch in his pants faster than he’d want to. He wanted to teach you about patience, and there he was, almost close to losing his because of the way your hairs lifted as the petal drew the rugosity of your nipples, your how thick you swallowed when it kept moving down to your belly button. 

The touch of that thing on your body, ghosting over your skin, and teasing your pelvis, as San moved back to straddle your thighs, was sending you to a whole new place. Needy, eager, desperate… Those were the words that would describe you right now, as your arousal kept leaking while all you wanted was him. San was a king at building up the moment and getting you ready for him. He was giving a whole new meaning to the word patience. 

You stopped feeling his weight on your body, but you did feel it on the mattress, in front of you. Biting your lip to hold back a moan, when he lifted your leg from your ankle. That soft thing was tempting the curve of your sole, moving forward to the marked bone of your ankle, before it started moving up past your calve. Still going up to your inner thigh, you felt San’s strong hands enclosing around your knees, parting your legs to finally see by himself his creation. Your slick creating thin lines among your folds when he left you completely open. 

“You’re so gorgeous” he assured, finally allowing you to feel his lips on the soft skin of your inner thighs. 

It was your first time in that place, in that situation, but you were molding in so perfectly, you were looking so fucking tempting, he had to remind himself he had to be easy on you. He was dying to use one of the whips hidden behind the secret closet next to the TV, or overstimulating you with one of the vibrators until you asked him to stop. Only because you dared to go faster than what he was planning to back in that elevator. 

Maybe another day. 

You felt his weight disappearing from the bed, but you still heard the sound of his clothes moving, barely making a sound when they fell to the ground around him. Soon after he joined you again, placing himself between your thighs, and letting his heavy dick rest on your pubes, grinding on you “Are you going to take me like a good girl?”.

You nodded, thinking it’d be enough with just that. Until a hard span on your thigh made you jump, and bite your lip to shut the whimper tempting to get out.

“Use your words”.

“Yes” your voice sounded so weak, he found it cute. 

Your hips instantly lifted when he moved his tip all over your slit, getting himself wet enough before thrusted in all at once, making a scream get drowned at the back of your throat while holding yourself onto the chains by the surprise. Waiting a few seconds, he rolled his hips back again slowly, before thrusting into you hard again, making your whole body collapse against the mattress. 

He repeated that same move a few times, just to buckle his hips and go faster in you, not allowing you to feel empty for long enough before he was filling you completely again. “So tight and good” he moaned “You have no fucking idea what beautiful you’re looking right now, being fucked so good” His fingergrips dinted on your skin, and you were sure you’d be filled with his marks the morning after. But you couldn’t care less. You were too lost in pleasure, too over the moon by his cock rubbing against all the right spots, that you were even having a hard time controlling your own moans.

And he was aware, and bothered by it. San was seeing you moving your body constantly, clenching your jaw while pressing your lips together, with only small whines and gasps getting to escape your mouth with every thrust, forcing him to press his digits on your cheeks, parting your lips so those sounds would be filling the room. 

“This is how I want you, babe” his hand went down to your waist, lifting your hips a bit more. “Be a fucking mess for me. Let everyone know who’s fucking you this good”.

You yourself were surprised by your own whimpers, finding it hard to believe those loud moans and begs were coming from you. Never in your life you thought you’d feel so much pleasure to be so loud, always thinking it was something exaggerated by the few porn movies you used to watch when you had to do the job your ex didn’t. 

It was the first time in your life you were losing yourself completely, not having a single bit of control over your body. 

His fingers dragged the tie down, now placed around your neck, before he pulled from it to force you to look at him. 

You were too shy to keep your eyes on him, but too fucking turned on by own looks to move them away. His jaw was clenched, his eyes -almost covered with his bangs- were filled with sinful words that were roaming in the back of his head. You looked down at his marked abs, and the outline of his pelvis, pounding against you so hard that you thought he was planning to break you in half, while your body just bounced with it. 

You were unable to resist when his fingers started tracing circles around your clit. Your legs kept being pushed apart by his free hand whenever you aimed to close them. “I’m gonna cum” your head hung in the air, now rocking with the rest of his body and his full control. 

“You gonna cum on my cock?” he tilted his head. “Do it. Make a mess for me, babe”.

It took him those words, and three more circles around your bundle of nerves, and your pussy was milking him hard and tight while cumming all around him. And after seeing your eyes rolled to the back of your head, hearing that broken loud moan, and feeling you clench so tight around him, he reached his high short after. 

After a few minutes, you were still recovering from that powerful orgasm, just that you were untied and looking up to the ceiling next to him in his bed. after he came back from throwing away the condom. 

You were waiting for your client in the waiting hall of the hotel, still thinking about the amazing night you spent with that hot stranger. Although you felt a bit guilty after basically running away from his room after he fell asleep after the second round. San assured you you could spend the night there. And, while you agreed, there was something inside you that made you get up and leave him there while he slept. 

Could be you’d see him again later today to be able to apologize. Could be you’d never see him again -and, honestly, that upsetted you more than it should have. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by a group of voices that were getting closer to your room, until the door opened and showed a neatly dressed woman -that was probably around your age. 

“Mr. Choi will be with you in a second” she assured her.

And just nodding, you sat back on the armchair while playing nervously with your fingers on your lap. You expected that man to be someone old, rough and difficult to handle. Because there was no way you were the only one in the office acceptable to take the job. You were sure more than one person rejected the project, and you were the only dumb one to take it.

“Sorry for being so late…”

You froze on the spot when you saw him. If you had had a way to hide yourself anywhere, you for sure would’ve jumped anywhere to close yourself inside forever. The man you were begging for more last night, that had you in shambles and almost crying from pleasure, the same man you abandoned at five in the morning in the sneakiest way possible, was standing in front of you. 

“Mr. Choi?” you asked, nervously.

“You’re the agent from Youth?” unlike you, his looks brightened when he saw you. “So I’m that asshole?”.

Reminding how you ranted against the owner of the hotel with him, you were aware you were talking to the person you were talking shit of.

No. Now. Now was when you wanted to hide forever. That probably was the worst way to start the negotiations for a project.

[raayllum]

I know you were ready to lay CHET to rest after this season but… Callum still has the cube, we still don’t know *exactly* what it does but Aaravos will presumedly need it, and all that foreshadowing about Callum choosing Rayla over the greater good? I still believe

i'll have a more coherent post about this when i'm not running on under 7 hours of sleep for 24+ hours (close to 30+ now honestly) but no i feel so Fucking Crazy right now precisely because i went into s6, our penultimate season, expecting to finally get to lay CHET and its variants (5x08 my beloved) to rest after 4+ years, every season for 3 seasons in a row i've been ready to lay it down, and yet it's still on the Goddamn Table arguably more than ever before

Obviously certain things have changed — Callum's thematic associations with freedom would switch probably to having a role to play in 'unlocking' Aaravos' full power and/or giving him access to the other Startouch elves somehow — but both of those things are stuff I've considered being related to the cube before (as well as dark magic) so not much is actually changing there fundamentally.

What continues to change is the sheer assortment of evidence that Callum is going to play into Aaravos' hands for her (the initial basis of CHET), and Rayla is likewise going to refuse to sacrifice him (thereby shortly followed by mutual salvation theory), and 6x03 is a Giant Sign blinking Pay Attention in bright neon.

Rayla: Listen to me. If you ever have to choose between me and the greater good, do the right thing. Make the sacrifice.

Nevermind that 'right thing' is subjective and that sacrificing loved ones is routinely seen as Bad ("We must be willing to sacrifice, even the things we love" / "My daughter [...] and I tried to kill you") and that Aaravos (one of Rayla's primary foils) likewise demanded for Viren to 'make a sacrifice' regarding Sir Sparklepuff in 5x09. It'd be one thing, mind you, for Rayla to just bring up this Hypothetical and it could conceivably be dropped, but then Callum makes the basis of CHET's adjacent Mutual Salvation Theory explicit in tethering Rayla's request to his own:

Rayla: What? Callum: If Aaravos ever controls me again, if he ever uses me, promise me you'll kill me. Rayla: Yes. I promise.

(There's a few different things we can read both into Callum's renewed approach and Rayla's changed response, but meta for another day).

What this conversation does, though, is link these things in the audience's mind. If half is called upon their deal in a scenario, it's only logical that the other will be too. And, of course, Aaravos has to inevitably possess Callum, and Callum (as a main protagonist and usher of a new age of magic) cannot die, so Rayla has to break her promise (a la TTM) to keep him alive, freeing up room in the narrative to Callum likewise break his (more thinly made tbh) promise as well. The easiest order of events, therefore, is for Callum to break his promise first in order to save/protect her, be possessed, and then Rayla breaks her promise in saving him. Mutual salvation and all that

The fact we have other characters and plot threads routinely referring back to and building up Rayllum's thematic basis for each plot turn in S7 is just the cherry on top.

(We also see Rayla talk not just one but two 'monsters' down corrupted by desperation and grief, so while it may retread more territory if she does the same to Callum, there's certainly more than a precedent. For Callum, 2/3 dark magic times were for Rayla, and you don't introduce Big Extra Scary 'permanently ruined by dark magic' Stakes if you're not gonna use them as a way to escalate things, either, even if of course given that it's S7, there will be ways out and a happy ending).

Insert Callum putting the star rune sign directly down against her palm.

I think it's likely the cube is still involved somehow (all the ominous foreshadowing including and most prevalently featured in the pawn intro doesn't suddenly go away, and was only added to in S6) and really, this is about the only parallel I personally need anymore to keep chugging along theory wise:

Like it's Over and at this point we just gotta wait for S7, tbh, especially when a big juicy angsty mutual Rayllum plotline is more than in order after their relatively fluffy (loved) plotline in S6

[senelope]

wish i'd never met you (s. gojo x f!reader)

famous!gojo x reader ; 7.4k words ; angst / smut ; minors dni

You dream of stage lights and sold out shows. But all your voice provides are little jingles – for cat food advertisements. All of that changes – in the best and worst ways – when you meet Satoru Gojo, who owns the life you can only fantasize about. And, someone who knows a thing or two about bringing your fantasies to life.

The sky was dyed with a dusty pink hue as the sun set, and yet another work day came to a close with you frustratingly slamming your laptop closed. Yet another disappointing melody.

How were you supposed to be a famous artist if you couldn’t even finish a song first? 

And that wasn’t even the job you were at. To pay the bills, you pick up odd jobs here and there, most recently being a freelance voice actress for an up and coming organic cat food company. Meowmy! You’d screeched in a high-pitched voice until the co-founders – famous idol turned business woman Nobuko Takada, and her manager, a large man named Aoi Todo – were happy. 

“You wanna come to our surprise birthday party?” asked Nobuko at your last recording session, winking, sending the invitation to your phone, which vibrated in your back pocket. 

“Oh, happy birthday,” you said, sliding your headphones off and walking out of the recording studio.

“Not hers,” Aoi said, when you were standing beside them in the recording studio. The lights from the machines hurt your eyes; you hadn’t gotten much sleep last night trying to write new songs you hoped would either go viral or get you an agent. “It’s for my brother, Yuji.”

“Yuji Itadori?” you asked, brightening. Takada was a well known idol, so there did stand a chance that her manager was related somehow to the famous martial arts actor who was currently taking social media by storm.

Aoi brightened, making the burly man look far more approachable. “That’s him.”

“Hey,” began Nobuko, excitedly. “Weren’t you looking for a replacement performer? Since Gojo canceled at the last minute?”

You gasped at the name drop. Satoru Gojo was a media sensation – a down right superstar. Starting off as the bright center to a boy band named Honored Ones, then establishing rockstar success with his chart-topping album The Honored One announcing his solo career debut. He’d next taken the acting world by storm, and with his martial arts abilities, was also known to be Yuji Itadori’s mentor, Satoru himself having been the one who scouted him while on a trip where he also scouted the reserved Megumi Fushiguro as a soulful singer. 

But you didn’t want to give in so easily. And especially without hearing a contract mention or a price quote. You had to look after yourself alone, so you had to prioritize yourself first.

So you cleared your throat, and asked what they’d pay you. The price that Nobuko said made your eyes bulge, especially when you registered the even higher price that Aoi said immediately as Nobuku finished. She tilted her head in Aoi’s direction.

“Nevermind, then. What he said,” she said, sliding her giant designer sunglasses over her wide golden eyes. She tightened her ponytails after stretching. “We’ll send the performance money soon as you walk through Aoi’s penthouse.”

You gulped. This wasn’t the first-time the wealthiest of your clients reminded you of their overflowing pockets. “I’ll see you there. Do you want covers, or originals?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” she said, not looking at you as she began to leave, Aoi right behind her, holding her purse and car keys. 

“Do whatever you want.” The duo left, and you decided to spend the remaining half an hour you had in the studio – it charged by the hour – on trying to record new original songs you might perform. 

But, by that time, the sun was setting and you had no worthwhile melody to show for it. 

Looks like covers it was. Oh, well. Satoru wouldn’t mind if you covered his songs, right? Plus, he wasn’t even going to be there. At least you were used to belting his songs in the shower, so not much time would go to memorizing and practicing. And it had the added bonus of having absolutely nothing to do with cat food. What more could a girl ask for?

Satoru didn’t have the bandwidth for this. His manager was talking about how he had to stop his homewrecking tendencies – in fact, keeping up with hiding them was costing them all the royalties that still came in from his debut. But how was he supposed to do that when the men and women who caught his eye just deserved his touch, regardless of what shone on their ring finger. Oh, whatever. 

“Alright, Suguru, I got it,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “You’re ruining my appetite. I needa be hungry for Yuji’s birthday bash. I gotta eat lots of it. I mean, I chose the cake personally.” He reconsidered. “Well I told Todo what to order –”

“You’re not going,” Suguru said, flipping his smartphone – the newest electric blue one of the folding line Samsung came out with in collaboration with Satoru – closed with attitude. “But I still am. It’s your punishment.”

“But I’m performing,” Satoru said, sputtering. “C’mon, Suguruuu!”

“Canceled with Todo this morning. You are going to spend your evening crafting an apology statement for sleeping with both of Jogo’s wives. His current and his ex!”

Satoru snickered. “They married him for his money anyway. I was the one gracious enough to give them some of this co–”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Suguru said, waving his hand. “You have a reputation. I don’t need you reminding the public of it so soon before the announcement! So no more fooling around. With anyone.”

Satoru felt any drop of joy he had from remembering about defiling Jogo’s ex and next disappearing. Of course, he had to be reminded of his obligations. 

When he and Suguru had been young and dumb and had signed the first contract that allowed them to break their boy band contracts and do what they wanted to do then – debut Satoru as a solo singer and Suguru as his manager. They had thought they were older and wiser – but apparently, they weren’t mature enough to think ahead to what a ten year representation contract might mean. No matter where you wanted to take your career – Satoru opening a performing arts school where he was one of the main instructors, and Suguru opening his own management studio – you couldn’t. 

But – they’d finally managed to negotiate something. The absolute last thing that Satoru wanted to do. But what choice did he have? He had to free both himself and Suguru. And besides. He’d ignore it for as long as could, until the day he couldn’t, whatever day the higher ups decided was the day of the life-altering announcement.

He pouted, trying to remove all thoughts of the horrible thing from his mind and focus on the matter at hand. 

And, as predicted, Suguru weakened. He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Fine. If you finish writing the apology and get it to me by the time the party ends, you can come. No performing though, too late to change our mind. And please. I’m begging you – no scandals! The only ‘sweet’ thing your lips better be on is a frosting covered fork.” Suguru said, sounding like a tired father and a stern teacher at once.

Satoru cheered, jumping up and down while Suguru rolled his eyes and said something mean about his monkey-like-behavior. 

“I’ll shove a banana up your ass,” Satoru said, ceasing to a slow stop, but still smiling. “If you call me a monkey one more time.”

“All I said is that your fans shouldn’t go to the zoo if they’ve been to your concerts anyway,” Suguru said, smirking. 

Satoru flipped him off as he left Suguru’s office to head home. 

His media trained ass was going to have to pull out all the stops for this apology. Yippee , he thought bitterly. 

Near the end of this hard, hard work, while editing his apology statement to fit the character requirement for Twitter – Suguru required him to construct the apology in several different mediums, from a tell-all Youtube apology script to a buzzy headline for the publishing company they’d sell the letter – he thought of his canceled performance.

He’d actually been looking forward to it, but that was more so because he missed having an audience. His world tour had ended a few months ago, and he and his ego missed the crowds yelling his name, sold out stadiums full of people begging for him to meet their eyes just even once. 

“Who’re they gonna get as cool as me,” he remarked to himself irately, blowing a strand of his silver hair out of his eyes. The competitive feelings that suddenly filled his body fueled him to finish his apology assignment in the nick of time, wrapping up medium after medium. He’d now get there just after his probably-shitty-and-ugly-replacement started their performance. 

The sounds of a familiar bouncy bassline fills the halls of Todo’s very excessively decorated penthouse. Animal print shag rugs, tacky gold statues of dogs in suits, and shiny glittering chandeliers, to name a few characteristics that leave Satoru’s more fine tastes wanting more decorum. Courtesy of his upbringing as the heir to an old-money family whose bloodline was as old as Japan itself. 

It was his newest single, the one that was topping charts. Except, instead of his deep, raspy voice, rang a sweet, sultry one. 

“ You don’t love me / you just steal my clothes / live in my house ‘cause I can’t say no, ” the voice sang, having apparently reached the catchy chorus. 

And when he finally reached Todo’s rooftop terrace – where the performance was taking place on a circular neon blue stage with Tokyo’s skyline as a backdrop – he finally saw the voice of the absolute siren singing his song.

You. 

“ When we fuck, shit it feels like love / feels like love, and it’s so messed up ,” you said, swaying to the beat with your eyes closed as you sang the song with a softer, more sorrowfilled intonation than Satoru had felt comfortable voicing. Your eyelashes fluttered as you opened your eyes, and it was almost like your gaze and Satoru’s were paired like magnet poles, meeting the second your beautiful lens revealed themselves. 

Satoru’s heart stuttered to a stop for one fateful second. And he reeled it back into beating, because never in his life had Satoru ever struggled to breathe when meeting someone new. Especially not a girl who stole his song. 

You weren’t expecting your idol to treat you so frostily. The entire night had been a whirlwind of events that felt as if they’d been written straight out of your dreams – compliments upon compliments, someone had even ordered you a bouquet, recording deals with both big and indie studios – except for how Satoru Gojo was looking at you. 

And that was if he did! He didn’t even look at you when Yuji – who had loved your performance for his surprise birthday bash – introduced the two of you. 

“Great choice,” Satoru had said, staring at a spot above your head. Being so damn tall, he looked down on you, but didn’t even meet your gaze from his ‘honored’ height. 

“T-thanks,” you had said, too nervous to say anything more. He was feeling some imperceptible emotion that led him to ignore you for the rest of the conversation that you, Yuji, and he were in; you were basically just a spectator. And Yuji, bless his ignorant bright eyes, didn’t see how talking about last year’s Met gala bathroom antics would leave you – the least famous person in this room – out of the conversation. 

It wasn’t till a handsome man with waist length raven hair inserted himself into the conversation that you were acknowledged. 

You thankfully held back a starstruck gaze when you met eyes with your teenage crush, Suguru Geto. Of course, you were no longer the girl you had been when the boy band’s bass player with feline eyes had charmed you – mostly because you refused to be like every other girl who favored the leading singer Satoru – but it took real strength to hide that past.

“And who’s this beauty?” Suguru questioned, meeting your eyes with a sparkle in his eyes. You flushed immediately. 

To your surprise, Satoru answered with your name, shocking you with the way your name fit on his tongue. 

“Pleasure to meet you,” Suguru said. “So you were the siren singing Satoru’s song.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Satoru blurted. 

Everyone looked at him. You were the first one to twist your head to meet his crystal blue eyes, their icey wide depths freezing you to your spot. It was an entirely different feeling to meeting Suguru’s warm, dark eyes.

“No, you didn’t,” Yuji said slowly, thick eyebrows furrowing. 

“I thought it,” Satoru said, crossing his arms. 

You ignored his response, and tried your best to gracefully thank Suguru.

“I was your biggest fan,” you gushed, unable to finish your gratitude without singing a song to your youthful infatuation. 

“Were you?” Suguru said. “I guess you’ve come full circle. I’m your biggest fan now.” 

Out of the corner of your eye, Satoru impatiently tapped his foot. 

“Listen,” Suguru said, reaching in behind his blazer, and coming out with a thick, cream colored card. He passed it to you. “Keep it on the low, but I’m starting my own studio. And I want to sign you.”

You gasped. All the blood in your body traveled either to your cheeks or to your head. You were shocked beyond measure.

“Really?”

“Really, really.” 

“Thank you so much,” you said, clasping your hands together while your face uncontrollably contorted into one signaling exceptional gratitude.

“I’ll train her personally,” Satoru suddenly said, just as Suguru’s mouth opened. His manager gave Satoru a look as he made a face, something between confusion and disbelief.

“Just like me!” Yuji said excitedly, before anyone could object. 

“Um, are you sure, sir? Are you not, well, busy?” You wished to ask if he even liked you in the first place, for he hadn’t made any indication of enjoying your presence. But this was the more socially acceptable way of asking.

“Not nearly enough to resist instructing the next generation!” He said, in a familiar cheery voice you were used to hearing on talk show interviews and conventions. 

Well … You decided to forget about his earlier treatment of you, hoping it was a fluke. After all, this was Satoru Gojo. Biggest star to grace the stage since rock artist Yoshinobu Gakuganji, the worldwide phenomenon of the generation before. You would be a fool to turn down his mentorship. 

And so, you shot him your brightest smile. You had high hopes, and you hoped that this was the beginning of the rest of your dream life.

Satoru was blinded by your beauty. He had done his best to resent you, his replacement, the new talent. Especially after he had heard you singing his song better than he could have ever dreamed. But, he knew that the harder he tried to force his hate, instead, the harder something else would grow.

Namely, his cock. 

Even though he had promised Suguru no scandals, that the only thing that would be in his mouth today was cake – he couldn’t help but want some other sweet cake to devour. Yours.

He couldn’t help it. Anyone he deemed on his level – usually after some more dramatic reaction, which in this case happened to be an immature resentment towards you that hardly lasted even a few minutes – he wanted to nurture, to own, even. 

It of course took Suguru’s entrance and observation for his initial frostiness to dissolve. 

“And who’s this beauty?” Suguru asked, reminding Satoru that not only had you sung his song the way it should’ve been recorded all along, you were also gorgeous to boot. All your lines and all your curves drew out a figure he wanted to memorize with his hands. Or maybe his tongue. At least his eyes were lucky enough to try.

So, to his surprise – and apparently yours, too, judging by the way your mouth adorably parted and your eyes widened – he answered with your name. He resisted saying anything more that could – and would – be a giveaway to the new direction his thoughts were going in.

“I’ll train her personally,” Satoru suddenly said later, further surprising himself, and Suguru too, judging by the questionable look his best friend gave him. 

“Um, are you sure, sir? Are you not, well, busy?” 

Sir? Well, fuck him, then.

“Not nearly enough to resist instructing the next generation!” He said, in his favorite voice to use when charming audiences. 

And that’s when you blinded Satoru with a wide smile. Your sweet lips trembled shyly as you met his eyes, and he resisted the urge to lick his lips. He chose to smirk instead, which makes you redirect your gaze to your toes. He made you nervous, huh? What a sweet little thing. How could he have chosen to hate you? You were just what he needed – an innocent, new sparkling talent for him to sharpen and shine. He imagined your rise to stardom, and imagined how everyone would look at his latest, sexiest protegee. How everyone would cheer when he kissed you, when the nation’s favorite man laid his lips on the newest national sweetheart. He didn’t think about the arrangement to come at all. His cock pulsed as blood rushed to his crotch, and he hoped his buttoned blazer hid his staining erection. 

“I’ll have Suguru text you the details,” Satoru said flippantly. “I have my own recording studio at home. We can practice there.” Suguru rolled his eyes, but got to work immediately, whipping his work phone out and texting the number you spelled out since you didn’t have a business card of your own. “I’ll see you then.”

The week that sandwiched your first meeting and your next flew by quickly for Satoru; a Vogue photoshoot followed by recording his surprise appearance as a celebrity judge on a cooking show filled the early half of his week, the latter half consisting of chemistry readings for the pilot of a new drama where his role hadn’t been decided yet, so he had to perform multiple different combinations of the scripts.

By the time your bright and bushy tailed excitement greeted him, though, he was tired. And he guessed it was plainly evident.

“Are you alright?” you asked sweetly. “I could get you a coffee if you’re tired?” 

“Aww, no, I couldn’t have the new talent fetch me a coffee!” He laughed brightly. “I’m already more awake now that you’re here.”

“You’re such a charmer,” you said, rolling your eyes, and crossing your arms, directing Satoru’s attention to the furrow of skin between your breasts deepening. He sucked on the top row of his teeth, imagining digging them into the soft skin there, leaving bruising bite marks on the silky spheres. “Do you talk to everyone like this?”

“No, just you,” Satoru said, grinning. He flicked your forehead gently. You giggled. Satoru wished they’d already been recording; he’d have loved to have trapped that delicious little sound into a few seconds long audio clip. What a cute lil alarm noise that could’ve been.

“Sure, sure,” you said, turning away from him, though not before Satoru saw the edges of your flushed cheeks. “Where do we start?” 

Satoru came close behind you, grabbing the hand most on top of your crossed arms. He pressed his palm to the top of your skin, his heart pounding as he did so. He moved your joined grasp to rest on the center of your chest. He smelled your shampoo scent as he leaned down to talk near your ears. The jut of his plush bottom lip brushed against your ear with every low vowel. 

“Breathe,” he instructed. Your chest rose slowly as you sucked in air according to his instructions, and fell with a faster speed as you exhaled. Some of Satoru’s bangs tickled his forehead as your breath rushed out. “Repeat it, but slower exhale. Control it. Then, I want you to hold a note for as long as you can. Whatever one you want.” 

You listened, and did so immediately. “What a good girl,” he told you. Your voice wavered, and he wondered if the beat he felt through your hands from your chest was your heart skipping a beat, or your voice straining to stay steady.

“T-thank you, sir,” you said. Satoru wondered if your words were respectful – or teasing. He was hoping too much, he realized, and he stepped away from you, releasing the heavy tension the moment held, lightening the mood in the room immediately.

“You’ve got a clear voice, and strong lungs,” Satoru said, turning away from you as he adjusted his pants without you noticing. “Impressive.”

“Thank you again!”

He laughed, petting your head with soft pats before he realized he was lifting his hand to do so. He rolled with it. “No need to thank me. Call me Gojo-sensei if you respect me that much,” he said, winking. 

Now you laughed, another sweet, addictive melody for his ears. Your giggle now had a companion in his mind’s radio. “Okay, Gojo-sensei. What’ve you got to teach me? I’ve had enough of your compliments.” 

“Oh, really? Not fond of praise?” Satoru asked, teasing.

You bit your lip. “That’s not what I –” You giggled again, making Satoru grin. “I’m excited to learn, Gojo-sensei.”

Oh, gods be damned. He shouldn’t have asked for it. But he had. Now he had a long list of other things he wanted to beg you for. 

He cleared his throat, wishing it would clear his dirty mind too. He had promised to teach you. So he redirected his efforts, and tried his best to redirect his blood to his brain. Worked somewhat, but the tingling desire between his legs as the two of you spent the rest of the day – and well into the night – talking and singing and writing together. 

Satoru hadn’t been this happy writing music in so long, and even wrote something he was confident was his best work yet throwing ideas with you. Maybe he needed to spend more time as a solo musician before completely redirecting his talents to acting and instructing. No, he’d done enough to establish himself as a singer. He wanted to expand what he was known for, and solidify even more his reputation as the greatest performer of today. 

You were the future. You’ll be a shining star, he thought, one that blinds everyone with your brilliance.

“Thank you,” you said genuinely, turning your head away from him as you packed up for the day. He realized belatedly that he’d accidentally spoken aloud. Gods, he hadn’t complimented someone like that in ages. “That means a lot to me, coming from you.”

“I thought you were Suguru’s biggest fan,” Satoru said, teasing you, squinting his eyes, unable to help himself from reminding you of your words that still had him jealous. He was used to being the favorite. And even if Suguru was his best friend – he wanted to be your favorite. 

You sighed. “I … I have a confession.” You put down your now packed bag. You looked back into Satoru’s eyes.

“What?” He leaned forward, hovering closer to your face as the two of you sat next to each other on the couch in his office, having moved there long ago. Oh, he was so curious … 

“ You were my favorite,” you blurted. “I just wanted to be – not like other girls.”

Satoru couldn’t help it. First he was shocked. Then, once he realized your logic, he started to laugh. So hard he even brought a few tears to his eyes. You whacked him on his arm. 

“Don’t laugh at me!”

But as you went to bring your arms back beside you, Satoru caught your bunched up fingers in his much larger hand. He squeezed your fist. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. Satoru Gojo was your favorite. Him, and nobody else. Oh, he was so glad. 

Your face burned as Satoru reminded you of your little white lie. That Suguru was your favorite, a lie you’d shared with many others when the topic of their band arose. 

That burn didn’t compare to the one spreading across your cheeks and up your neck from your chest as Satoru laughed.

And that burn didn’t compare to the one roaring in your heart as Satoru squeezed the hand you’d used to hit him jokingly. 

Neither of those hot feelings compared to the burning fire between your legs when Satoru used the hand he was holding to pull your face close to him. His left leg pressed against your outer thigh, sending another flash of heat to your core even at the slight contact. 

His breath ghosted over your lips, and your eyes met. The hungry look in his pale gaze conveyed the message. You’d have to be the one to bite the bullet he’d loaded. And so, heart straining from the combined joy of your past and current Satoru Gojo obsessed self wanting this moment to never end, you kissed him.

Instantly, Satoru transformed. From the first gentle contact of your lips, he was a perfect gentleman for all of three seconds, trapping your bottom lip between his. But once he began sucking, he couldn’t stop devouring you like a man without any decorum. He inhaled you as he kissed you, bringing you close to his body, tangling his arms around your back as he sank into the couch and you fell down with him. You twisted your body to lay more comfortably against his, realizing too late that that would mean unimpeded contact between your cunt and his cock through your clothing. 

The two of you gasped at the combined warmth, which made your teeth clink against each other. 

“You want me that bad?” you asked, shocked by the sheer size of his wanting. The absolute hardness that pushed against you, almost sending you to a mental institution by how his cockhead just about pressed against the crotch of your jeans to catch your clit temporarily when he shifted. You moaned as if to punctuate your observation.

“Ah,” Satoru breathed, his hands flying to cup the round curves of your hip. Your top had ridden up, and so his palms were touching bare skin. He squeezed, electrifying your sensation of his touch as he pawed at your softness. “I think you want me just as bad, baby.”

He slid his hands up from from hips to your waist to your chest, groping them like they were clay he wanted to mold to the shape of his grasp. He palmed them once more before lifting your shirt and ridding you of it. 

Your breasts wobbled when they were subsequently freed from the confines of your bra, and you watched Satoru lick his lips hungrily. 

“But don’t worry, baby,” Satoru said silkily. “I’ll take real good care of you.” He kissed you sweetly to prove his point.

Then immediately dirtied his mouth when he took a mouthful of tits to his teeth, biting down gentle enough to not hurt but hard enough to make you moan. You stretched your neck out, throwing your head back. 

“You made me so hard,” Satoru said, breathing heavily as he removed his mouth from your right breast, a string of spit connecting the two. It popped when he got far enough. “How do you plan on fixing that, hmm?”

You whimpered when he reached his hand down to feel your cunt through your jeans. Your clit pulsed, and you knew Satoru could feel it like a heartbeat. He wasted no time in ridding you of your pants, and you lifted your hips to help with the removal of your panties right after. 

“Oh, ‘Toru!” you cried out. Satoru had immediately started to explore your secret spot, parting your folds and using his fingers to collect some of your slick. He sucked it off his hands, and you got wetter, something you thought was impossible judging by the shine you had seen gathered on his thick fingers.

You trembled with desire. “Satoru. I want it. Please!” You found yourself begging.

“I’m not quite sure what you want, sweet,” Satoru said in a sing-song voice. 

Whatever restraint might’ve been keeping your mouth clean snapped. “Please, give it to me now. I want your cock inside me, now. Please!” You were near sobbing, especially as Satoru continued to play with your cunt by pressing against your clit in a rhythmic manner. 

“Bad girls don’t get to tell me where my cock goes,” Satoru scolded, slapping your bare pussy. You let out a wild cry. 

“Satoru, please,” you whined, pressing yourself into him even more. He flipped the two of you to create some space between your crotch and his. He threw your bare legs over his shoulders after ridding himself of his pants. He didn’t even return his fingers to your cunt, which made you sick with nostalgia for the mere seconds earlier when he was playing with you so deliciously. 

“Oh, darling, I know you want it. And you should know, I really want to just put it in right now – god, I do – but you have to wait…”

You closed your eyes, tilting your head back against the cushions.

“Aren’t you going to ask why you’re a bad girl?” 

“Why am I one?” you asked, giving in, opening your eyes. You saw Satoru’s bright, mischievous gaze, sparkling with delight as you responded just the way he wanted.

“ Sir.” 

“Why am I a bad girl,” you said, gulping, “ sir – Satoru?” 

“Aww, because you didn’t ask me what I want,” he said, cooing. 

You pleaded to him, begging to know what he might want to do with you. Anything would do – the burning between your legs was an uncontrollable wildfire, and there was only Satoru who could put it out. 

“I want the same thing, silly,” Satoru said, leaning down to nuzzle into your neck. “Was just’ teasin’ you, yeah.” You shivered as his silver strands tickled the sensitive skin there. You yelped when he nipped at a spot there, before immediately cooling it down with his tongue tracing over it, leaving the tingling spot cool and wet. 

But there were other wet tingling spots for Satoru to pay attention to. 

He began fingering you in earnest, the motions of his fingers making squelching noises fill the room of his office. How lewd! You almost had forgotten where he was making you this weak. But who needs the bedroom?

“You’re so sexy,” Satoru murmured, crooking his fingers just so. “Makes me want to ruin you.”

“Ahh, Satoru!” you screamed. “Please, please, do whatever you want. I just wanna – ugh!” You were babbling nonsense as something built inside of you, like blocks laid atop each other to form a steep tower.

“So sexy, screaming for me. Trembling for me like this,” he said, using his other hand to press against your bare stomach to feel your body shaking from the overwhelming feeling of it all. 

Something was building inside of you, yes. And it was about to topple and break in just a bit, judging by just how hard your legs were shaking atop his shoulders, the skin of your thighs sticking and unsticking against Satoru’s sweaty chest. 

“Look so pretty coming apart on my fingers,” Satoru cooed, looking down at you with hazy, lidded eyes. His bright blue eyes were darker than usual by the dilation of his pupils, and honestly, the absolute adoration in his genuine gaze – of course, combined with his fingers – sent you over the edge. 

You couldn’t even say a word as the strongest orgasm you’d ever felt knocked the wind out of you. You shook and you shook and you shook with waves of pleasure. It was pure euphoria. 

If that was just from his fingers, then … 

Satoru seemed to have the same question. “What’re you gonna do when it’s my cock instead, pretty baby?”

Like a broken record, you couldn’t help but beg again once you regained your breath control and the shaking had subsided. 

“I’m gonna kiss you real hard,” you said, looking at his bitten red lips, shining with your combined saliva. Oh, god. It was hitting you, really, that you had done that. You were the one kissing Satoru Gojo. You were the one finger fucked by Satoru Gojo. And now – 

Satoru took off his jeans, then his boxers. Whatever train of thought you had crashed and burned as you dropped your jaw. Of course the most beautiful man in the world would have an equally beautiful cock, thick and arched, precum coating the pink tip like frosting begging you to take a lick. 

“So,” Satoru said, his voice getting a little more serious. “You still want this? If you say no, we can pretend this never –”

You arched up to kiss him square on the mouth. Hell to the no – why would you deny yourself heaven? Parting, chest heaving, you trailed a finger down his muscled abdomen and then down his pale happy trail, stopping right as your finger approached his fat tip. 

“Fuck me, Satoru,” you said, earnestly. 

Satoru kissed you gently before aligning himself with your vagina. He slotted it at your folds, and then just like that, his tip was slightly inside you, easily gliding in with how wet you were. He shook a little, and inhaled in a deep breath. Every little movement of his hips, no matter how intentional it might’ve been, rubbed at your skin down there. You can tell Satoru was doing his best to hold back, doing his best to stop from savagely thrusting into you and splitting you open with his monster of a cock. 

But you want him to. You couldn’t take it anymore. You tilted your hips, and again, because of just how wet you were, he slid in halfway quite easily. He whispered your name, his voice breaking roughly at the end. 

You stared up at the expression of ecstasy on Satoru’s face. His eyelids drooped. His shiny spit slick mouth parted. 

“You’re inside me,” you said slowly, bringing your hand to cover your face. Satoru moved it away, and instead kissed you, the movement pushing his thickness further into you. You groaned as your walls strained to accommodate him. “Fucking me.”

“N-not yet,” Satoru said, voice hoarse. He pushed all the way into your tightness. You screamed, he groaned. “And not even now.”

“It’s enough, it’s enough,” you said, eyes starting to water. “I’m going crazy.”

“Oh,” Satoru breathed, when you clenched tight around him. “I’m makin’ you crazier. Now.” He lifted himself out of you, and thrust back into you with a thwop. 

Slowly, after that first thrust, his actions became faster and smoother. Satoru showed you no patience, no gentleness, no matter how much he had wanted to and had been planning on it. He fucked you roughly, like you were two animals rutting. You called out his name again and again, no plans of stopping even as your voice grew rough with use. 

Just as you were about to cum – your walls were fluttering around Satoru as if to signal – Satoru pulled out of you and came on your stomach, flinching as warm stickiness pooled and dribbled down your waist. 

That was the first time you fucked Satoru Gojo. And that was not the last. 

Moving forward, the two of you were insatiable. The weeks leading up to your album release party was filled with debauchery. 

You blew Satoru in the recording studio Suguru rented to record the tracks; Satoru was supposed to supervise. But of course he’d rather cum on your chest. So, supervising soon turned into lewd moans and sticky thrusts that the impressive sound system captured. Satoru was careful to delete the footage – and of course, who would know he’d saved a singular copy on a flash drive just for him to listen to – just you, and you didn’t mind. 

And even after the album release party – at the after party held in the most packed club in Tokyo – the two of you couldn’t hold back. When everyone had gone to the dance floor, and just you and Satoru remained in the closed off lounge area, he pulled you into his lap and slid his cock into you, crumpling your short mini skirt to your hips and pushing aside your thin thong. Being aware anyone could come back any second, Satoru fucked you while he covered your intimate connection with his leather jacket draped over your thighs and dragging on your sweaty skin. When the two of you heard voices coming closer, once even hearing Suguru’s drunk laughter come too close for comfort, the two of you stilled under the jacket. Even in that moment of cessation, you could still feel Satoru’s cock inside you, so hot and pulsing. Satoru’s gasping breath was a treat for your hearing, and his swirling hips underneath you were a treat for your cunt. Thankfully, when Satoru and you came, the music in the club was loud as it had been since the start of the night, even louder if possible at the peak of the night, and so the two of you could groan in earnest. Plus, when the two of you got home that night, there was no stopping Satoru from taking you in every which way he desired. It was crazy how no matter what you two did, he was never tired of you. Never! 

Until one random day, a Tuesday you didn’t think was anything remarkable except for the fact that Satoru hadn’t wished you a good morning like he usually did. You were walking down a busy street in Shibuya, in dark clothes, with a mask and sunglasses hiding your face now that you were an up-coming celebrity. Then you overheard the gossip that would irreversibly change the course of your life.

Did you hear? Satoru Gojo is going to be marrying a descendant of the royal Japanese family, Princess Utahime Iori. What a fairytale!

You stopped in your tracks. 

Like a crazy person, you reached for the person who said that, frantically grabbing onto their shoulder. Believably freaked out, they flinched away. 

“S-sorry. I’m just, so, so shocked by what I accidentally overheard,” you said, trying to appear normal. “What did you say?”

“Oh,” said the stranger girl, feeling more amicable now that you’d explained yourself. “You know that famous singer-actor-everything? Satoru Gojo? He’s getting married to royalty! I mean, he basically is, too–”

“Is this for real?” You weren’t sure if this was as false as the rumor that Satoru had a foot fetish. He had a variety of kinks, but not that one. 

“Uh-huh!” said the girl’s other friend. “They just did a press release! Satoru’s quitting the performing industry to be a family man, and Suguru’s officially opening his own studio! They even signed that new singer that’s blowing up right now,” she said. Hearing your name didn’t shock you, compared to how this news felt like. Like a bucket of ice water, like a brick to the face, like something violently wrenching you out of your head and straight to reality. 

“Thanks for telling me,” you said, gulping back tears. You turned away from them, and immediately hailed a cab. At first, you intended to go home and cry your heart out. But quickly, you knew that you had to talk to Satoru first. 

The entire drive, you sat tensely, your stomach in knots. What could Satoru possibly say? There was a fucking press release, apparently. What explanation was there? You hoped he had one. You weren’t sure you would react rationally otherwise. 

The knot in your stomach tightened further when you saw how many cars were parked around Satoru’s place. Getting in without attracting attention would be difficult, but thankfully, you guys had been fooling around enough for you to know exactly how to do so. 

Before you knew it, you were in Satoru’s bedroom (sans the mask and sunglasses, which you’d put away in your purse). Sitting in the dark, like, again, a crazy person. This man was making you go crazy! You called him, and when you went to voicemail, you sent him a text asking him to come up to his room, praying that he’d see it. Anymore stress and you’d start sprouting gray hairs.

His door creaked open, and the lights came on in a flash. 

“Woah!” Satoru said, jumping back. He quickly entered the room again, closing the door shut behind him. “When’d you get here?”

“I texted you,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “What’s going on?”

Satoru looked at you with an indecipherable expression. He loudly sucked on the top row of his teeth. Then, he spoke. “What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong.”

“I didn’t ask what’s wrong, I asked, what’s going on,” you said, crossing your arms. “I heard something about a press release.” Your tone was flat. 

“Oh, yeah,” he said, giving you a tight smile. “So you heard.”

You didn’t say anything. You wanted him to do the talking.

“It’s no big deal, really,” Satoru said. “It’s an arranged marriage, so we can keep seeing each other–”

“Wait,” you said, flabbergasted. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “Why wouldn’t I be? We – hold on. You cryin’?”

You didn’t realize that tears had pooled in your eyes and were now streaming down your face. 

“Sweetheart,” Satoru said, in a voice entirely unfamiliar to you. Everything about the man in front of you now was unfamiliar to you, actually. “We were never official. So, I don’t understand –” You slapped him across his face, as hard as you could. Before you knew it, you were punching his chest while you crumbled into sobs, not even speaking a real language besides wails and cries. Surprisingly, he let you hurt him. 

Eventually, though, you stopped. You were utterly deflated. You felt like a fool. But you had to know, right? That it was going to end this way. Suddenly, your mind flashed back to the innocent days of being a fan and seeing headlines in gossip magazines – and the occasional think piece – about all the notches on Satoru’s belt. 

“You’re right,” you said, flashing him the same tight smile he’d given you earlier. You closed your eyes, purposefully missing his reaction. No matter what he had done, you still didn’t want to see him hurt – or worse, not hurt at all.  “We were never official. So let’s end whatever this is.” You took a deep breath, and once you felt steady in your stance, you opened your eyes. 

Again, that indecipherable expression. 

But, when he spoke, you quickly realized what it might signify.

“Alright. If that’s what you want. I’ll see you at the wedding, then,” he said. 

It signified this: he didn’t care. At all. This meant nothing to him, compared to what it meant to you.

Your heart crumbled as much as you had earlier.

All along, he didn’t care…

“Goodbye, Satoru. I’ll see you around. Let me know what you want for your wedding present.” You wouldn’t be a crazy person any longer. You pulled your sunglasses and mask out of your bag, and walked out of Satoru’s room. And, effectively, Satoru’s life.

In the cab ride home, you had one thought and one thought only: I wish we’d never met. What a grand, impossible wish. Almost as impossible as having had this relationship with your celebrity crush, you reminded yourself. This was fated to never be. You should start to accept it, and focus on your career. 

Afterall, you thought, strengthening your resolve. What better way to show Satoru that you didn’t care – than to flourish without him in your life. Suddenly, you remembered your original dream. Stage lights and sold out shows. Not a silver-haired blue-eyed cocky motherfucker who knew just how your body ticked. 

You wish you’d never met him, but it was better that you had. Because now you could show him – no, scratch that – show the world just how committed to your dreams you were. Just as Satoru had said oh-so-long-ago, you were the future . Satoru was old news. 

Just like he’d said, huh. 

You’d be a shining star, one that blinds everyone with your brilliance. 

For your sake, you had to be. 

i hope you enjoyed! this is also on ao3. and i have a hella long author's note on there. lol. header is from kukkoro knight (manga). xoxo penelope

[avaetin]

I had a Jasico idea.

In which Jason is the new kid, and Nico is one of the popular kids.

“There’s a few things you should know if you want to survive here,” Dakota informed him, his tone serious.

Jason limited his reaction to raising one of his brows in incredulity. Somehow, he doubted playing by the pre-established rules was a matter of life or death as his fellow sophomore was making it out to be. Nonetheless, he listened out of courtesy.

“First of all, stick to the status quo. Don’t ever upset it. You said you’re here on a scholarship, right? Academic or sports?”

“Academic. But I play sports as well,” Jason replied vaguely.

“If you’re good, stick with the jocks. If you’re average, stick with either the jocks or the brainiacs. If you suck, stick with the brainiacs,” Dakota cut straight to the point. “It’s cool if you want to hang out with Reyna since the two of you are friends. But, for your sake, unless you’re joining the student council, try to keep her at arm’s length. She’s the president of the student council; you’re the new kid. You’re going to draw unwanted attention to yourself just by being close to her.”

Jason didn’t like that. It explained a lot of things he observed so far, though, like how every group of individuals he encountered seemed to either belong from the same club or share a common interest. Even Reyna, for her part, was hanging out with her people from the student council. It was like everyone was subconsciously being careful; that one wrong move could potentially tip some carefully constructed societal balance they established.

How disappointing.

Jason was looking forward to making and having a diverse group of friends. To be told that he could only choose one or the other was very upsetting.

“There’s an exception though, which brings us to my second point: If you’re part of the Royalty, you’re free to mingle with anyone you like,” Dakota continued. “However, we’re not allowed to speak to them aside from school-related reasons.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m not related to any royal family,” Jason answered.

“No, you got it wrong. The Royalty is a group consisting of the most popular kids. There’s Luke Castellan and Silena Beauregard, the seniors. Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase, the juniors. Last, but definitely not the least, Nico di Angelo, the sophomore,” Dakota explained, his voice sounding almost reverent.

“Nico di Angelo?” Jason looked surprised. The odds of someone else having the same unique name was unlikely. It had to be that Nico. “He’s popular?”

“What are you insinuating?” Dakota questioned, his eyes narrowed as he regarded Jason in a little less friendly manner. “Of course, he’s popular. He’s our precious prince. Have you ever seen someone as beautiful as him?”

Well. Now that Dakota mentioned–

“You know what, nevermind,” the sophomore dismissed whatever Jason had to say with a wave of his hand. “Whatever it is, I don’t care. Just so you know, each of them have their own fanclubs, so you better be careful about what you say from now on. Some students get pretty hostile when you badmouth their idols. You’re lucky it’s just me this time.”

The longer they had this conversation, the more Jason was getting convinced that playing by the rules was a matter of life and death. Jesus, what school did Thalia dump him into?

“Since you don’t like our prince, this seems redundant to mention, but just in case: Don’t get involved with Nico,” Dakota warned him.

Jason frowned in response, “What do you mean? Is Nico into some shady business?”

“What? No,” Dakota denied immediately, his tone returning to normal. “Don’t get involved with him in that way,” he tried again, awkwardly wiggling his eyebrows to get his point across. Jason got his point the second time around, his cheeks burning at the implication.

[oneatlatime]

Appa's Lost Days

Dare I hope?

You know, if ten year old me had turned on my TV to watch my weekly dose of Avatar and been greeted with a nearly two minute long uninterrupted sequence of a frightened and distressed animal being mistreated, that TV would have turned right back off again.

I don't buy that a ten tonne bison who has the leverage of his own weight as well as his airbending abilities would succumb to so few people.

Name one other character that Avatar has presented as so thoroughly without any redeeming characteristics. Even Zhao was at least kind of funny. Everything about the chucklehead on the left is rotten to the core. "What's your dad going to do when he finds out we broke his stuff while doing crime?" "Nothing. It's not his stuff; it's previous crime."

I thought beetle-headed was a commentary on their intelligence, but it's actually a description.

I'm rapidly coming to the conclusion that I should have waited to get my hopes up until I came to an episode called Appa's Found Days. Is this whole thing going to be a series of near misses with the Gaang?

You know, if I had a nickel for every time an animal companion on this show has been threatened with a trip to the butcher's, I'd have two nickels. In the space of two episodes.

This is not fun to watch guys.

Not if I break you first asshole.

The way this Nurse Ratched type circus guy says "earn it" is chilling.

Of course the Fire Nation would find a way to turn bending into animal abuse. Of course.

a) that cage is way too small b) who knew cabbage suction could be so cute?

Completely unsubtle parallel with the boy here, right down to the complete disregard they show to the threats thrown their way.

Stubborn and wilful are not adjectives I would use to describe Appa this episode, or ever.

Wind buffalo. Wind Buffalo. Really? Was Fart Cow taken?

That's a very relatable facial expression.

That makeup and costume is awful.

Now that's satisfying.

Is the Fire Nation kid voiced by Aang's voice actor?

Nevermind. THAT'S satisfying.

I was right - this episode is Appa always being a step behind the Gaang.

Baby Appas! This almost makes this episode worth it!

It's funny how a single feature can contribute so much to a character's design. Arrowless Aang is just some kid. Let me rephrase that, since such a big part of Aang's character is the fact that he's just some goofy kid. Arrowless Aang is indistinguishable from other kids for the first time this series, because every other time we've seen him on screen he's either the only child airbender with his arrows, or the only airbender left.

Lady monks. Nuns? I don't think I've seen those before.

Appa and Aang share a dreamscape? That could be useful.

There's dumb, there's really dumb, and then there's 'wake a completely asleep and therefore harmless unknown creature with threats of violence' dumb.

Close call for Iroh. Do you think he's suspected that Appa (and presumably the Avatar) haven been in Ba Sing Se this whole time?

Bipedal Appa is strange. A very effective fighter, but strange to look at.

I'm amazed that giant boar thing walked away from that.

And now they're hitting me with an 'Appa's given Up' montage. Someone who works on this show hates me.

*Heroically refrains from ranting about the impracticality of using white fabric for an active warrior's glove.*

"This could be our most important mission yet." Foreshadowing?

Did Suki and Appa actually meet at any point in the Warriors of Kyoshi episode?

Turns out 'Aang' is a magic word.

Appa kisses!

Appa is apparently legally banned from having anything good for more than five minutes. Although it's good writing that they're using a previously established weakness - Appa's shedding - to bring the danger ladies back in.

I guess they have Azula drop the line about her brother to remind the audience of who she is, but surely Suki's like "Who are you? Who's your brother? Why should I care?"

Azula going after the Kyoshi warriors is completely unnecessary right? The Avatar isn't there. Neither are Zuko and Iroh. It doesn't even net her Appa. She's just looking for someone to beat up.

WOW this is bad writing. Like really bad. My Immortal levels of bad.

Would it be too much to ask for the Kyoshi warriors to do even slightly ok against the Azula ladies? Couldn't they at least get a couple of hits in?

Kudos to Suki for essentially sacrificing herself and her warriors to save Appa. 'Most important mission yet' was a bit on the nose.

Out of options, Appa goes home. Ouch.

Someone explain this to me. Air Bison teething ring?

My what a human sounding cough you have buddy.

This is why you don't use Air Bison as guard dogs.

I like what this Guru is saying. Fear displacing trust but not love feels more accurate than how I usually see the consequences of trauma discussed.

The music playing throughout this sequence fits so well. I think it's some sort of metal thing you hit - I want to say a variation on tubular bells, and maybe something Glockenspiel adjacent? It's unlike anything I've heard in this show before and it fits so well that I'm nerding out a bit.

Disney princess Guru. Aang has Disney princess moments too. Maybe it's an Air Nomad thing?

No wonder the monks built a temple here. Even destroyed, it's gorgeous.

And Appa decides to trust again. I love it when an animal visibly comes to a decision about your trustworthiness.

This energy reading stuff makes sense given that Aang and Appa already share a dreamscape.

He IS a great beast. The best!

OH COME ON

Someone whip up a wanted poster for Long Feng: Cattle Rustler. It had also never occurred to me that he was an earthbender.

That flip move with the earthbending platform must have caused Appa to land on his back. I bet that hurt.

One of the times I am very grateful that the closing credits music is so upbeat.

Final Thoughts

@aboutiroh I see why you recommended I save my chocolate for this episode.

The Tale of Momo was really just a preparatory taste of things to come, huh? Almost a microcosm of this episode.

This is the first episode where I had to take breaks while watching. Especially the circus sequence, I think I got up twice to do things like get a cup of tea and stare randomly out windows at squirrels. I didn't even have to do that with Zuko Alone, despite freaking out a lot about it, because at least that episode took breaks from the child abuse to check in with Aang being miserable. This episode was unrelenting.

If I had seen this episode when I was the age of the target audience, this may well have turned me off the show for good. If my Mom had seen this episode, I would have been banned from watching the show entirely. Not a decision I'd agree with, but my Mom is the type of person who banned her kids from watching Bambi.

To watch through all of that unrelenting animal (at best) unhappiness, and still not get Appa back at the end of the episode? That's a bit much. It's not often that this show ends its episodes without at least a little bit of something positive.

Once again, the music did a lot of heavy lifting this episode. The animal noises weren't quite as emotive as the ones in Momo's Tale, but Appa's face is more expressive, and more was shown through his expression than through Momo's, so I feel like this episode had just as much non-verbal animal communication as Momo's Tale.

I think I'm renaming season 2 "the Suki redemption arc." I really didn't like the Warriors of Kyoshi episode, and I didn't like what her character did in that episode. But every time Suki appears in season 2? She absolutely nails it.

The show since losing Appa has taken to wallowing. Even with bright spots like the poetry bouncer, the overall tone since Appa's appanapping has been ever more dark. If this keeps up for many more episodes, it will no longer be fun to watch.

Somehow I don't think this one is going on my rewatch list.

[torialefay]

☀️ Everyday Idol 🌙 (Chapter 5)

✨ possible bangchan x reader (f), possible jungkook x reader (f)

✨ head on over to my masterlist if you haven’t checked out the previous chapters!

✨wc: ~6.6k

✨ friends to lovers? possible love triangle? obsession? angst and future smut??? a little fluff.

✨ summary: JYP Entertainment launches a new show and y/n somehow gets recruited. Even though she doesn’t particularly care about the outcome of the show, she does particularly care about one of the artists she met: Chris from Stray Kids. Does Chris feel the same or will a potential relationship with one of his friends overcome what y/n feels for him?

✨ author’s notes: pls pls pls let me know if you’d prefer shorter, more frequent chapters like this one, OR longer chapters posted about once per week. i’m heavily debating lol

✨ warnings: cursing from time to time.

Previous Chapter Recap:

“No need, I already told him!” Felix winked down at you, nudging his elbow into your side. What the hell?

“Oh really? I didn’t know you two were close like that.” Literally not once had you seen any sign that they’d spoken to each other, let alone were good enough friends to keep in touch about girls they were taking to lunch.

“With Chan-hyung? We’re about as close as two people can get,” he laughed. “No way. I knew all along. And you’re welcome by the way. I may or may not have encouraged it hehe.” You watched as his eyes sparkled while they smiled. It would have been adorable if you had any clue what he was talking about.

All you could do was stare blankly at him. A confused expression must have been on your face long enough for Felix to notice.

“We are talking about Chan-hyung, right?”

“No… I got the flowers from Jungkook,” you said sheepishly.

You could see Felix’s eyes shoot open, going into panic mode. Fight or flight, I guess.

“Wait, are you talking about? OHHH those flowers! The ones from today. Ohhh okay, nevermind. Sorry, I was thinking about something completely different,” he rapidly mumbled out. He looked like he could start sweating at any minute, waiting to get your eye of approval.

‘Okay, so 2 possibilities. #1: Felix needs a lot more sleep. Or #2: Chan was going to give me flowers?!?!’

Note: Character relations you can refer back to if needed.

Y/n- Changbin’s mentee

Anna- best friend, Felix’s mentee

Kara- Seungmin’s mentee

Sunnie- Han’s mentee

Mindi- Hyunjin’s mentee

Nisha- Lee Know’s mentee

Alyssa- Jeongin’s mentee

Jenna- Chan’s mentee

——————————————————————————

Y/N’s POV:

You settled back into your usual sphere of friends in the filming room. Just you, Anna, Kara, and Sunnie. Of course some of the boys jumped in on the discourse.

“Alright Hannie, be honest,” Sunnie questioned, still standing in the group. “Who out of us,” she motioned to the rest of the girls in the group’s circle, “do you think will mess up the most during our shoots?” She put a big grin on her face.

“Uhhh, I mean I think you’ll all do really great to be honest so-“ Han tried, but got cut off.

“Kara obviously,” Seungmin interrupted. “As her mentor, I can confidently say that I have trained her to be a menace.” He was joking, of course but GOD he never looked like it. “Well, not as good as me, but she will learn.”

Kara laughed and fake smacked him on the arm.

“No, but really, be honest. What do we need to worry about? You are literally our mentors so you can’t let us look lame,” Sunnie started again. You knew that Changbin proceeded to give a sarcastic response, but the hint of a figure passing by caught your attention instead.

Chan had arrived. He looked so good, but so out of his normal. You realized then that it wasn’t just Changbin who surprised you, but you’d never seen any of the boys dress up before. You and Changbin looked killer- all black, and honestly kinda sexy. You surprised yourself even.

But not Chan. No, he was in soft colors. Pastels. You didn’t know if you’d ever seen him in something like that- just so NOT like him. You silently wondered if he would come to your group to converse with everyone else. You weren’t sure if you wanted him to or not.

You made sure not to turn your head too far in his direction. You didn’t want him to see you glancing over, but you definitely didn’t want any of your friends in the group to notice you looking either. You tried to focus your eyes back on Han who seemed to be the only one who would give actual advice.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Felix shift slightly, lifting his head up. You saw him look in Chan’s direction, then look down to see if you had noticed. You quickly darted your eyes away. Satisfied that you were paying attention elsewhere, he directed his head toward Chan across the room and open his eyes wide. Somehow he had a look of both questioning and embarrassment on his face. You didn’t dare move to look at Chan’s reactions.

After a minute or two of trying to zone in on Han, you gave up. You shifted your weight and crossed your arms, shrugging your shoulders up and rolling your neck around to “try to get a kink out”… if that meant trying to get a secret look at Chan of course.

You found him in your periphery on the other side of the room. He was standing with Jenna and Alyssa, making small talk or prepping them for the filming, you guessed. You could see Jenna’s almost-matching pastel outfit and it made you want to vomit with how sweet it was. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a tiny bit jealous that she was matching so well with Chan. You’d be lying even more if you said it didn’t bother you that he’d momentarily rested his hand on her shoulder while talking with them. You’d be lying even more if you said she was too pretty for him. ‘FML.’

Chan had such a wild smile on his face, staring down with his big dimples. You couldn’t believe he was actually getting along with the both of them. They were literally like talking to a wall… Maybe the wall opens up and changes its appearance a little for a cute guy though.

Damn, if this was the shove you needed to move you in Jungkook’s direction, it was definitely working.

Kara, standing a couple people over from you in the circle, must have noticed Chan coming through in his displaced pastels as well. He was a magnet, what could you say?

You noticed her scoffing over. Everyone else noticed as well.

“Kara, everything okay?” Anna asked, being the last to notice but the first to call her out.

“I was just observing,” she smirked, nodding her head in Chan’s direction. Everyone turned to look as Chan lightly nudged an elbow into Jenna’s side.

‘God, please kill me.’

Sunnie fired back with a smug look. “Oooo so *that’s what Felix was talking aboutttt,” she dragged on.

… The guys, including you and Anna, looked around, staring blankly at each other.

“What do you all know that I don’t?” Seungmin asked, staring down both of the girls.

‘Agreed,’ you thought.

“Did you literally not hear Felix at lunch?” Kara looked up at him. All the Stray Kids members looked confused.

Felix looked defensive all of a sudden. “No, no, no, that’s not what I meant! I was just joking I swear!” He tried to force a laugh. “I swear it was just a joke!”

“Yeah rightttt,” Kara scoffed. “It’s so obvious that she’d be that way. It makes so much sense.”

“Okay, what are you guys talking about?” you finally piped up.

“Seriously, what’s going on?” Changbin backed you up.

Felix looked off, like he would just ignore the question forever. Kara ran her eyes across his face, then rolled them back into her head.

“Oh so NOW you are shy?!” she threw at him. “Well Felix kinda let it slip that Chris was crushing on someone who was already accounted for, but that it would all work out.”

The boys all looked at him, wide-eyed.

“Oh my gosh, that’s not how I meant it! I mean I was just joking around!” Felix plead, acting fake hurt. “Literally we were just talking about who YOU ALL found cute, and then yeah, I said that Chris was wanting someone who was already accounted for but, but-“ he started to fumble his words. “I mean I was just messing around! I meant that Chris was into me, but I’m accounted for of course,” he let out a nervous laugh.

“Accounted for? By who? And your mom doesn’t count.” Seungmin smirked.

“No, with Binnie!” Felix put on a fake pout again, grabbing Changbin by the arm. “And don’t you talk about us that way!” Everyone got to laughing, and I guess Felix’s explanation was good enough to put everyone’s mind at rest.

‘Nice cover, Felix.’

Kara wasn’t completely sold though. She motioned for everyone to scoot in closer before leaned her head down and began to whisper. “Listen, I’m serious though. I don’t mean to step on any toes, I swear I don’t… But the rumor going around really is that Chan’s got his eye on one of the mentees,” she looked up to see everyone’s reaction. “Now, if you guys say that it isn’t true, then it isn’t true, but that’s what’s been going around. AND word on the street is that she is also fucking Jungkook.”

‘GODDAMN IT. I AM NOT FUCKING JUNGKOOK! HOW IN THE HELL DOES ONE DATE EQUATE TO FUCKING THIS MAN?!’

‘And now, if anyone does see us together, I’m royally fucked… May even get kicked off the show for the bad publicity. I’ve got to find a way to shut that shit down.’

You secretly watched Felix’s face drop. In that moment, he had confirmed his previous theory that you had been seeing Jungkook and rejected Chan.

‘Welp, this is awkward.’

“Alright well if someone’s fucking Jungkook, then they’re fucking Jungkook. None of my business. But if Chan was into someone, he would have told us by now,” Changbin chimed in.

Felix looked to the ground.

“I mean maybe... Unless he was embarrassed. Sure doesn’t seem like it now though,” she glanced back over. You let your eyes follow in that direction. Chan was now propped up with one hand against the wall, smiling down towards Jenna with a smirk on his face.

‘I don’t even care,’ you thought.

But you did. You knew you did.

———————————————————————

Felix’s POV:

Filming was about to start. The directors had each of you pair up into your mentor couples and wait for more instructions.

“Hold on, I have to go find Chan real quick!” Felix told Anna.

“Alright, you know where to find me,” she smiled back.

Felix quickly made his way over to where Chan stood. Next to Jenna of course.

“Hey, can you come here for a second? I have a question,” Felix directed toward Chan, offering a polite smile when Jenna looked his way too.

“Yeah sure,” Chan said, letting Felix lead him toward the back of the room away from everyone else.

Chan was totally on edge. Felix could tell.

“What the fuck happened?” Felix questioned.

“What happened with what?” Chan retorted, pretending he didn’t know what Felix was getting at.

Felix just stared at him, rolling his eyes up. Annoyed. He stood there in silence, not letting himself be the one to give in. Finally Chan did.

“Look, I saw her with Jungkook, bro. He gave her flowers and she looked happy. End of story. Nothing else to talk about,” he huffed, ready to walk back. He was holding it back well, but Felix knew him well enough to know he was hurt.

Chan looked down and shook his head, imagining what Felix must be thinking. Felix had encouraged him early on to message you… but he just never did. Not until he was scared someone else was interested in you that is.

“Whatever mate, but just know this whole look-“ Felix pointed a finger, dragging it across the path to Chan and Jenna, “isn’t a cute one. Almost every other contestant has something bad to say about her.”

“Come on man, she’s not that bad.”

“Literally look at her face right now,” Felix motioned over.

A look of pure boredom and disdain was washed over her. She glanced down to her nails, then back up to her surroundings, almost as if she was trying to size anyone and everyone up. She was off on her own, not attempting to strike up a conversation with any of the 40+ people in the room.

“So she has a hard exterior,” Chan tried to cover. “But she’s actually really nice once you start talking to her.”

“Tell me one nice thing she’s had to say.”

“Well she was talking about how excited she was to see me.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“She was also talking about how I looked good in pastels. Told me that they suited me more than black and that I should switch it up.”

“That doesn’t count either. What is ONE nice thing she’s said that wasn’t about you?”

Chan stood for a moment. “Well, I mean,” he grabbed his neck and looked down. “Like I said, she’s a hard one to crack.”

“Do what you want, but going after your own mentee isn’t a good look. I’ll tell you that if no one else will.”

Felix turned to walk away, but spun right back around on his toes. “By the way, someone is now spreading a rumor that whoever you’re into is fucking Jungkook. Just thought you should know before you made anyone look bad.”

With that, he briskly walked off.

—————————————————————

Y/n’s POV:

Shooting actually went really well. Way better than you’d expected. It wasn’t nearly as scary as you thought it’d be, and you think you actually got some great takes.

They had let you talk about medical school, and what it was like to train in today’s world post-COVID. You got to talk about the reason you were interested in medicine in the first place, and how the 7-year-old you would be so proud to see you now, living out your biggest dream. They asked all the right questions, and you gave all the right answers. You were starting to feel hopeful that you could make a connection with the audience of the show.

Of course, all of the scenes with Changbin were perfect too. You silently thanked the heavens that you got paired with the coolest guy to be your mentor. The banter between the two of you was perfect. One moment that specifically stood out was when they shot a scene of Changbin trying to give you tips and that, as his mentee, you were gonna have to be tough and do some of the heavy lifting to make him proud. He made you practice an example, as he bent himself face-down at his hips and pulled on your arms to rotate your body into the air and land on the other side of his.

“See, easy! Now you try,” he had instructed.

And try you did… But FAIL you also did. You tried your best to keep your legs firmly planted on the ground, but with the weight of Binnie directly over top of you, you couldn’t help but fall to the ground, letting him fall along on top of you. Neither of you got hurt, but you both almost died of laughter, holding onto each other on the floor. You laughed so hard you thought you’d cry.

It may have hurt your ego a little, but damn if it wasn’t gonna make for some cute content for the show.

You felt a quiz buzz coming from your pocket. You took it out to check the screen, showing a text from JK. After the date, you had decided that exchanging numbers was way better than having to talk through instagram.

You smiled at how interested he was in your life.

You shoved your phone back in your pocket, warm feeling still coming on.

“Are you coming to the dinner later?” you turned to Changbin.

His eyes lit up. “I mean I hadn’t really planned on it, but are you going?”

“Honestly, I think it’s mandatory for us to go. But I’m excited anyways. Everyone should be there. Have you been to the restaurant?”

“Which one is it?”

“Nine Mile.”

“Damn, that’s a pretty nice restaurant. Especially if the company is paying.”

“Then you’d *better come with me,” you laughed, nodding your head his way.

“Alright, alright. It’s a date,” he smiled. “Only for the food though.”

“Well of course.”

—————————————--

After a quick trip back to the hotel with Anna to freshen up and get caught up on all of the day’s happenings, you felt exhausted. I mean, today was probably the most eventful day of your life. You went on a date with Jungkook, got blown off by Chan and then had to watch him flirt with another girl, and then get through 3-ish hours of filming for a TV show you didn’t even think you belonged on. You really just wanted to lie in bed and talk with Anna, then pass out for the night.

But you couldn’t. The night must go on. You reminded yourself that you should be grateful for every opportunity, no matter how tired you were.

JK had texted you back, letting you know he also had plans for the night, but to have fun at the dinner with Changbin. The emotions you felt were still extremely mixed, but you decided to just take each moment as it came. Otherwise, you’d be too overwhelmed to even think.

Once you had finished freshening up, you and Anna set out to the restaurant in your normal, everyday clothes. You couldn’t lie, being in medical school made you adopt a new sense of fashion. Corporate baddie? You realized this quickly when you came to Korea and saw the street style that most others wore. You and Anna couldn’t help it though- your closet now consistent of only 2 things: (1) scrubs, (2) trendy oversized blazers. Out of the 2 options, the only one you deemed appropriate to bring was the latter.

You didn’t mind standing out a bit though. Some people in Korea even had similar styles, just a bit more muted than the two of you. It was obvious from the looks you got while walking the street- not bad looks, the reverse actually.

You looked down to examine your black heels and matching black oversized blazer. You made sure to pair it with dark jeans and lots of jewelry to set a more casual tone… and also to stop yourself from looking like you could pull out a reflex hammer and give a full-on neurological exam at any moment. But it was night time after all, and it was freezing. You had to cover up as best you could.

You couldn’t lie, you also had to make sure you spritzed on a couple sprays of your favorite sensual perfume. Just for good measure. You never knew who you would see.

There was a reason you and Anna were besties, you thought as you looked to your bestfriend walking next to you. She complimented both you and your style so well. Business casual, but make it hot.

You finally arrived at the restaurant two minutes early. But to your surprise, the huge reserved section in the back was already almost completely full. Everyone was really making sure they were on time, you guessed.

You both meandered your way in, stopping to say “hi” to some of the other new trainees that you recognized. From a distance, Changbin flagged you down. He motioned for you to come to where he was sat.

“I figured you and Anna would come together. I saved you both a seat!,” he said, standing up out of his chair. He grabbed the chair seated next to his and pulled it out for you to sit down.

‘Too sweet,’ you thought as you took your place. “Thanks Binnie!”

The other seat next to you was presumably for Anna, so you waited for Changbin to pass you and pull it out for her as well.

“Anna,” he caught her attention, instead turning the other way to take his seat. “That seat is for you!,” he smiled, pointing down to it.

It was hard to hear with the loud noises coming from the crowd around you, but she understood what he was saying and took her spot.

Sitting in front of you were a few other trainees that you had met a couple of times before. Both girls and guys- all super nice. You exchanged formal “hello’s” and “how are you doing?”.

You scanned the room to look for the other boys, but only Felix was in sight, standing far in the other corner of the room and talking with some of the new male trainees.

“Binnie, did none of the kids come except Felix?” you looked at him.

“Nah, they were all working on stuff. But don’t worry, I’ll always make time for you!” He spread a loving smile across his face.

You couldn’t believe you were so lucky to get Changbin as your mentor. Hardly any of the mentors were here. You had made sure to carefully check for any sight of Chris, but to your relief, he was nowhere to be found.

———————————————

The rest of the night was filled with plenty of amazing food, fun conversations, and new deep connections made with other contestants.

But if you were being honest, you definitely knew you had a few too many drinks. You were feeling good, yes. But almost past the point of feeling good. You could feel your stomach start to get the tiniest bit queasy and the world around you started to blur the tiniest bit. Your head felt like it was floating.

‘Okay y/n, you are cut off,’ the last ounce of soberness in your brain thought. But that is where the final sober thought ended.

“Binnie, can I be honest?” you leaned into him, almost letting your face touch his chest.

He looked down at you with big eyes. “Of course, what’s up?”

“I’m just…” you trailed off, beginning to look at his lips and then back up to his face. “I’m just really happy you’re here with me.” You smiled.

“I’m happy too. Thank you for inviting me to come.”

“Well you are always invited to come anywhere with me. I want you to know that.”

He blushed.

That should have been your signal. That should have been your warning to stop yourself. In your drunken state, you couldn’t sense that your words would come across as flirty. You didn’t mean it in that way- not in the slightest. You just wanted to express your love and appreciation to your friend. It was innocent, honestly. But Bin couldn’t tell that.

“You’re so sweet, y/n.” He leaned down further into you until his lips were hovering just above your head. “And if I’m honest, I’m really glad that I’m getting to know you better.” He let out a soft smile.

You went in for a hug, burying your face into his chest in the process. His chest was so strong and warm. “I needed to hear that… I wish everyone else felt the same,” you accidentally let slip out. Again, you didn’t even realize what you were saying. You were too far gone and you needed to go home.

“Like who? Is anyone giving you a hard time?” Changbin asked.

“No, it’s- well maybe. I don’t know. It’s nothing…” you paused. “Binnie, I think I’ve done all I can do tonight,” you accidentally leaned over into him. “I think I need to go home.”

“Yeah of course. Stay here for just a second. Let me get Anna.”

He gently got up from his chair, so as not to startle you too much, and walked a few steps toward Anna who had moved into a group of people who were stood chit-chatting.

He returned to you a few seconds later. “Anna is going to stay around for a while. Is it okay if I walk you to your hotel?” He reached his hand out for you to take it.

You happily obliged, using his hand to lift up all your weight in your stupor state. You felt a little unbalanced, but nothing that you couldn’t manage. Nothing that you couldn’t walk off on the way back to the hotel anyway.

Bin swiftly moved behind you, using one arm to stabilize around your waist and the other to reach out in front of you to continue to give your hand the needed stability. This way, he could see you right in front of him as you walked and make sure you didn’t trip over.

You both took slow steps toward the exit, breezily waving goodbye on your way out.

Your eyes caught Felix’s on your way out. You tried to wave, just a simple acknowledgment.

You may have been drunk, but not drunk enough to make out the the panic on Felix’s face. You couldn’t ponder on it for too long though, as a slight step up past the doorframe caught your foot.

You felt yourself lose balance, about to topple over, but Changbin felt your change in positioning and clung onto your tighter. As suddenly as you felt yourself begin to fall, you felt yourself stay stationary in the air.

“Ahhh,” you mumbled.

“Alright, come on. Up, up, up,” Changbin said lowly while pulling your body back to standing.

You giggled once he got you up. “I didn’t know you were that strong!” you said, excitedly, as you collected yourself enough to step forward again and out of the restaurant.

He moved his arm now to link up with yours. “This is why I train up! So I can catch you apparently,” he laughed.

You let out a giggle as you stepped into the cold wind. It caught you off guard, not remembering how cold it had been when you’d arrived. One more step and one huge gust of wind almost knocked you off balance again. You felt your leg start to teeter.

“Woah, woah!” Changbin laughed, catching your body from the side this time. “Be careful or you’re gonna take us both down!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous this was. Was it funny because of the alcohol? Absolutely. Without it, you’d be humiliated beyond belief. But now, you were more amused than you had been in the last week. You couldn’t stop giggling, cueing Changbin to start chuckling back at you.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” he said, once you stabilized.

“Okay, okay,” you took a deep breath in and then snapped your fingers. “I’m good. I’m good! Okay, I’ve got this. Let’s go,” you smiled.

He roped his arm back around yours to give you an anchor as you both walked, now both stepping out past the side of the restaurant, no worries in the world.

——————————————————————

Chan’s POV:

He sat on the couch of his studio for a moment, taking in his surroundings.

He didn’t know why he’d done it. He didn’t know why he’d done any of this. Why he canceled on you, why he brushed you off when you clearly wanted to speak with him, why he tried to make you jealous earlier.

After all, Felix told him that you had something with Jungkook. What did he expect? That it was just a rumor? That if he texted you right then, any plans you had with JK would just magically disappear?

Did he expect you to just drop everything and fall in love with him?

The only reason he got the balls to message you in the first place was because Felix told him you were going to see someone else. So why was he backing out now?

He guessed the stress of ACTUALLY seeing the two of you together- physically present in front of him- set him off. He didn’t even want to think about you being that close to another man, let alone see it.

It should have been him doing that with you. But, like always, he blew his own fucking chance.

He freaked out. He shut himself down and shut you out. He wanted to make you feel the same way he felt seeing you with someone else.

He sat and pondered for a moment.

‘It’s all in your head anyways, Chris. She’s not jealous over what you’re doing. She probably hasn’t even thought twice about you since. All you’re doing is making yourself look like a dick who goes after their own mentee…’

‘And Felix is right, it’s not a good look. Jenna objectively sucks. You don’t want to be associated with that. Hell, the conversations you had today were bone dry. You still have to support her, but from a distance will be fine.’

‘It’s just… ahhh,’ he threw his elbows down to rest over his knees, bringing his head down to his hands and letting them trace through his hair. He started pulling harshly at the strands of hair sliding through his fingers.

‘Why is it so fucking hard for you? Why can’t you just forget about her? You’re not going to, are you?’

‘But it doesn’t matter, you’re too much of a pussy to do anything anyways. You had her literally coming to your studio, and then you backed out like a fucking coward because of what? Because you saw someone else has a crush on her?’

‘Damn right Jungkook has a crush on her- he’d be crazy not to. But she only likes him because she doesn’t know how good YOU could be to her. You haven’t said or done shit!’

‘So why in the fuck are you sitting here moping, when you could actually apologize for being shitty and weird? You’re literally gonna just watch and do nothing and hope that nothing comes of this so you can have your chance?’

‘No, you’ve got to talk to her. So what, she’s been on a date or two with JK? It’s not like they were official or anything- if they were, you would have definitely heard about it.’

‘She could be way more into you than she is into him if you just TRY. Just do it. COME ON.’

Chris jumped up off the couch. This was probably the best timing he was going to get, and it was now or never. He had already checked with Felix, so what was he waiting for?

He looked at his reflection in the camera app on his phone.

He’d looked worse, he thought. He was just grateful to be changed out of those god-awful pastels.

He threw his black fluffy jacket on and grabbed the flowers he had purchased for you this morning, silently thanking himself that he didn’t throw them away earlier in a jealous rage.

Heading out of the company building, he kept the pep talk going in his mind as he quickly dashed toward the Nine Mile restaurant. He silently thanked god that it was only a few minutes away.

‘You’ve got this, Chris.’

‘It’s nothing, it’s nothing! It’s literally nothing.’

‘All you have to say is what you feel. It’s that simple. You want to get to know her more and you’d like to see her sometime, not at the company.’

‘She doesn’t have to know everything else. She doesn’t have to know you saw her earlier. She doesn’t have to know that’s why you canceled on her.’

‘But damn you may have some explaining to do if she brings something up about you and Jenna.’

‘No, she probably didn’t even notice or care.’

‘All you can do is lay it out on the table. If she doesn’t want you, then she doesn’t want you. But at least you can say you tried. You can live with no regrets.’

‘Come on, don’t back out. You can do this. You can do this,’ he repeated to himself as he saw the glow of the restaurant’s sign quickly approaching.

He quickly looked down to check his phone and get the time. He was hoping you hadn’t left yet by the time he got there.

As he went to put the phone away, he heard a familiar voice.

“Chan! Hey, what are you doing?”

Fuck. It couldn’t be.

The voice was recognizable, but the outline, not so much. All black outfit with a black mask. If Chan hadn’t heard him speak, he’d have no clue it was Jungkook. He was just standing there, leaning against the wall of the business directly next to the restaurant. It was a little ominous really, hidden away in the shadow of a street sign- the light of the moon not even able to hit him.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Chan tried to play it off like he wasn’t internally freaking out.

“Ah, I was just about to meet a friend. What about you? Are you headed to the JYP party in there?” He motioned to the restaurant.

‘Okay great, so he’s here to meet a “friend” and just so happened to know that YOU would be here… a SECOND date with him in one goddamn day?!’

Chris got extremely flustered. All of the confidence he once held was now leaving his body entirely.

Did he want to be brave? Yes.

Did he want to prove that he could be better for you? Yes.

Did he idealize in his head how this night was going to go and now that’s all going to shit? Yes.

Chan was officially in panic mode.

“Ah you know what, I was going to head in for a bit, but damn, you just reminded me! I ran off and left my wallet. I’m gonna have to go find it before someone else does. Ah fuck,” he lied through his teeth.

“I’m sorry man, that’s the worst! Do you need me to hold your stuff for you til you get back?” JK said, looking down to the flowers in Chan’s hands.

“Oh these? Yeah, it’s a ... friend’s birthday! So I had picked these up. But uhm… Actually, if you want them you can have them! By the time I walk back and turn everything upside down to find my wallet, I don’t know that I’ll actually make it back here. The flowers are probably gonna die tonight without water anyway, so I’ll have to buy another batch tomorrow. Please feel free to take them off my hands if you think you or someone else could use them. Seriously."

Chris didn’t really know why he said this. He didn’t know why he had lied about so much. He owed NOTHING to JK. Were they friends? Sure, but not close enough to feel bad about liking the same person.

He just needed to be out of this moment quick.

There he was again- a coward. Running away from his feelings, he knew. He knew he was ruining it yet again. But he couldn’t confront this reality. Not now. Not so openly and in front of everyone. He needed to get out fast.

“I mean sure man, I’ll take them if you don’t want them. I’ll find someone to give them to at least,” JK smiled down and took the bouquet into his hands. “Be careful going back in this cold! It’s getting ridiculous.”

All of a sudden, Chan heard it. It was unmistakable. His favorite sound in the world. Your laugh was coming closer.

He looked off a few yards away to see you stumbling out of the restaurant, holding tightly to Changbin.

In that moment, he was cursing his luck that Changbin got to have you as a mentee instead of him.

He knew you'd be searching for Jungkook at any moment. He needed to get out fast.

“Yeah, you too man. I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

Chan turned on his heels with his head down and sped away. He didn't dare look back for fear of what he might see. He knew he couldn't take it again.

In that moment, he was thankful for the strong wind chill hitting his face, drying out the singular tear rolling down his cheek.

At least he knew his flowers would get to you somehow.

----------------------------------------

Y/n's POV:

You held on to Binnie for dear life, making small strides so as not to lose the little bit of balance you had.

"I've still got to have a mentee for the show, so we have to get you back in one piece! If not, I'll kill you," Changbin said, letting out a chuckle.

In your drunken state, it made you cackle.

"You couldn't kill anyone Binnnnnnieee. You're too sweet," you smiled and booped him on the nose. You felt yourself lose your footing the slightest bit, but quickly moved your hand back to your side to stabilize.

"I'm sweet, but that doesn't mean I couldn't crush you in two seconds," he teased. "One squeeze while I've got you in a headlock and you're a goner."

"Oh yeah? I'd like to see you try!" you challenged him, stopping mid-stride and taking one step back.

"Oh you're on!" he made quick work to pull your arm around to your side, moving your whole body along with it until you were turned away from him. One swift movement had his bicep around the side of your neck, arm extended around the other half, until his hand reached your opposite shoulder.

Suddenly, you felt yourself working harder to breathe.

He took his other hand and harshly rubbed it as fast as he could on the top of your head. "Noogies just for good measure!" he yelled.

"Okay, OKAY, you win! I give up!" you choked out as best as your could.

Suddenly, he released the pressure off of your neck and you took a deep breath in, your red face trying to tame itself.

As you panted, Changbin teased you. "So what were you saying about me not being able to absolutely destroy you?"

You playfully, lightly shoved into him. "Shut up. Knowing that, I don't know if I want you to walk me back now! Wouldn't want to risk anything, ya know?"

"I promise to not use my skills anymore tonight. Deal?" he laughed and held his extended arm out for you to loop your own into.

"Deal," you smiled and wrapped your arm around his, starting back on the journey to your original destination.

As you went to turn your head, you noticed something in the corner of your eye. A dark figure gently shifted in the shadow behind the restaurant. Fully black clothed, mask on his face. But the shoes- the shoes were a dead giveaway.

'Aren't those the shoes Jungkook was wearing earlier?'

You'd never forget them. Black, but with golden laces and a bit of golden detailing on the slight platform. You'd made a mental note earlier of how nice they were. You could barely make them out in the darkness, but there was no mistaking that they were the same pair.

You were looking back now, trying to make full eye contact. Why wasn't he coming to say hi to you?

His body shifted back further into the unlit cove.

An overwhelming feeling of uneasiness washed over you. You snapped your head back around to the front, focusing now on your walking. You started to pick up the pace as best you could.

"Woahhh, you okay?" Changbin said, noticing the shift.

You honestly didn't know.

'Why would Jungkook be here? Let alone be lurking in the shadows instead of coming to talk to you?'

'He knew you'd be here,' you told yourself. 'And he knew you'd be here with Bin. Is that what this is about? He's jealous already? Jealous enough to freaking follow you around all night? How could he not "trust you" if you weren't even together?'

You felt your heart begin to race inside your chest. Looking down at the ground, you whispered, "Binnie... I may be paranoid but think I might be getting followed."

Your strides were even wider now, as Changbin tried to follow suit.

"Why? Did you see something?!"

"There's this guy I know standing back there at the corner of the building where it was totally dark. I told him earlier that I'd be here with you. He didn't even acknowledge that I was here. Please just get me home!"

You both started moving as quickly as you could toward the end of the street, rounding a corner. You looked back to see if Jungkook was still in site. You didn't see anything, but that didn't mean he wasn't still following.

Changbin flagged down a cab and pushed the both of you inside.

"The JYP Building, please. Quickly." he instructed the cab driver.

"That's the opposite direction of my hotel! Here, it's actually-" you tried to chime in until Changbin cut you off.

"If someone is following you, do you really want them to know which direction to take for your hotel?"

'Good point.'

"JYP Building please!" you yelled toward the cab driver. You clung tight to Changbin's arm, swerving your head frantically to get a view through all of the windows.

--------------------------------------

✨ Continue to ➡️ Chapter 6

✨If you enjoyed, please consider liking, commenting, and/or re-blogging <3

✨author's note: i know the past few chapters have been a bit tough, but i promise the next chapter starts to look up :)

[wheredafandomat]

The Royal Ruse 👑

Prince Loki x Asgardian reader

18+ | this fic contains angst, eventual smut, probably some bad language, little bit of a slow burn?

Chapter 2 Next

“OUCH OUCHHHH OUCH THAT HURT!” You exclaimed, teeth bared as you scowled at Loki.

“You wouldn’t stay still.” He excused, taking a sip of his water.

“I tried to” you argued “I’m not sure if you’re aware but it’s hard to stay still when someone is literally burning through your mind.”

“Don’t be so overdramatic.” Loki huffed, putting his glass back down. “Look y/n, if we’re going to do this, you’ve got to be a little less dramatic okay” he nodded along as if prompting you to agree “and we’re going to have to get along.”

“I thought that’s what we were doing.” You replied, confused.

“Yeahh.” He answered, clearly in disagreement. “Anyways, I should be going” he excused himself, standing up “thank you for the um—the water.”

“Wait, shouldn’t I be coming with you? You said—” you began before he cut you off.

“Yes I know what I said” he dismissed you “your job is to stay put until I come back and bring you to the palace myself. I can’t just show up with you, people will be like who’s that, who is this concubine leaching off of Asgards most handsome prince and eligible bachelor? I’ve got to introduce the fact that I wish to wed first and then they’ll ask to meet you.” He explained.

“Who?”

“The family. And we’ll have a grand dinner, with wine and then they’ll begin the questioning which you’ll prepare for and then you will stay in the palace for the duration of the wedding planning and then the wedding itself of course all the way up until I am crowned king. You can even stay for the coronation” he offered excitedly “and then you get your payment, I get my throne and we part ways. How’s that sound?” He clapped happily.

“Great, the only problem now is having to tolerate eachother until then.” You sighed.

Once Loki left, he began spreading the word of his desire to marry throughout the palace, gaining the attention of both his parents and his brother. Inconsequential conversations turned into substantive ones that related to Loki and his position if he was to wed. He liked the attention. Day in and day out people would ask him questions about his suitor, wondering when they’d be able to meet her. All the attention almost made him want to keep you hidden, he knew that once he introduced you, he’d lose all attention until he was king. Nonetheless, he knew it was time to finally begin.

Hearing a knock at your door, you stood up to open it before gasping at the sight of Loki. You had to restrain yourself before your hand flew up to connect with his cheek; the reminder that he was a prince kept you tame as you pulled him inside, closing the door behind him.

“Where have you been?” You almost shouted at him, hands on hips as you grew angrier and angrier.

“I told you, spreading rumours of our courtship around the palace.” Loki smiled in reminiscence.

“It’s been over a month.” You stressed, raising your voice.

“I am aware of the passage of time y/n” Loki tutted “anyways, are you ready to go?”

“I’ve been ready for over a month.” You exhaled sharply.

“Great.” Loki beamed, rubbing his hands together. “Where are your things?” Silently, you took a few things out of your pockets, presenting them to him. They were your essentials. “I meant your belongings?” He specified.

“I don’t own much.” You spoke.

Looking around, Loki inspected your place again, remembering just how small it was. The lack of space paired with the lack of things which reminded him of his own wealth. Usually he’d gloat about his riches, flaunting them to the other princes of the realms yet in this moment, his wealth only made him feel materialistic, small. Just like the room he was standing in. Your whole world crammed between four walls.

“Nevermind” he smiled “we’ll just get you things once we arrive.” He suggested, guiding you towards the door. “Come along.”

When you followed him outside, you were surprised to see no horses and no carriage. Instead of questioning him, you walked alongside him assuming that the horse drawn carriage would meet you closer to the palace but you were wrong, you ended up walking the whole way. The journey was quiet, only a few words exchanged between you both at a time before a comfortable silence would fall over you. You noticed Loki slowing his steps whenever you’d fall behind, unable to keep up with his strides. The gesture painted him out to be almost compassionate, a trait you hadn’t partnered with him yet. You smiled to yourself wondering what else you’d discover about him during this escapade.

“Are we sneaking in?” You asked once you reached the place, Loki walking in the opposite direction of the entrance.

“No” he lied, causing you to narrow your gaze at him questioningly “fine yes, yes we’re sneaking in, are you always so observant?”

“Why are we sneaking in?” You queried.

“Well I couldn’t possibly present you as you are” he answered, unaware of the insult in his words “I thought it better if you changed first and bathed perhaps.”

“I do bathe.” You seethed.

“Well more thoroughly then.”

“You know, you’re really rude.” You confronted.

“Hey, you’re the one who lives—” he began to defend before you interrupted.

“You know what, maybe this was a bad idea.”

“Y/n—”

“We didn’t all grow up in a fancy palace. Not all of us are royal and rich and completely oblivious to the world around us.” You protested.

“I apologise” he said almost convincingly “but by doing this you’ll be making a lot of money. Think about your future children, they wouldn’t have to suffer like you have. Plus, once I’m king, I’ll bestow on you a boon that you’ll be able to redeem at any time.” Listening to his words you began to picture your future children, you wouldn’t want them to have to go through what you had to.

“Fine, I’m back in.”

“Great, now, let’s go get you cleaned up shall we.” He smiled before seemingly walking through a bush towards a palace window.

After you and Loki’s rather undignified entrance, you were finally inside, your excitement alight as your eyes scanned all the walls.

“These are my chambers.” Loki spoke, presenting his rooms as you gasped, eyes darting around the grandiose decor. Loki tried to bite down his smile as he observed your fascination with everything including the floor.

“Wow wow wow, it’s hugeee.” You beamed.

“That’s not the first time I’ve heard that.” He jested to himself before growing concerned as you stood still, face falling a little. “What is it?”

“This is real” you uttered “this is real. I’m standing in the royal palace” you continued, a stray tear rolling down your cheek at the realisation.

“Y/n?” Loki tried to comfort.

“No, no I’m fine I just— I wish my parents could see me.” You smiled sadly, Loki taken a little aback by your sentiment.

“Well I’m sure they’re looking down on you from where they are.” He offered, tapping your shoulder awkwardly before he showed you to the washroom, showing you how to draw a bath whilst also explaining that it’s something you’ll never need to do as you’ll have chambermaids for that. Before you got into the bath, Loki excused himself.

Sinking beneath the hot water, you let it wash over your skin, soothing all of your aches, pains and worries. From now on, you knew things would be different.

Once you were finished, you wrapped yourself in a towel Loki had left out before you entered his room again to be met with a gift box on the bed and no sign of Loki. You approached it, picking up the note.

For you. P.S. Try to make some noise whilst you’re in there, chambermaids love gathering outside my room and listening in. If they hear you they’ll no doubt run to my parents and then they’ll demand to meet you at once.

Smiling to yourself, you put the note back down before lifting the lid of the box, smile widening at the sight of the beautiful dress inside. You took it out before changing into it. Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you already looked different, better. Strangely, you found yourself a little excited knowing that Loki was going to see you in it. You wondered what he’d think.

Lokis reaction

Next

Tags:

@lokiprompts @mischief2sarawr @lulubelle814 @lokisgoodgirl @mochie85 @eyesbluelikethetitanic @vickie5446 @mcufan72 @fictive-sl0th @peaches1958 @xorpsbane @sailorholly @anukulee @yukio369 @12-pm-510 @lovelysizzlingbluebird @bunny24sstuff @thenotoriouserg @newtomofgods @simping-for-marvel @a-daughter-of-poseidon @huntress-artemiss @thedistractedagglomeration

[reikiajakoiranruohoja]

HH Critical- Alastor thoughts

Critical of Hazbin Hotel, if you do not want to hear critique, do not read.

As time has gone on and I have heard multiple takes on Hazbin Hotel, I have gotten some ideas about exactly why Alastor feels so flat to me.

The show spends more time propping Alastor up than challenging him. Up until the last episode, Alastor is treated mostly as a powerful badass who can beat up anyone. Only Zestiel and Lucifer seem more powerful, and even then we never see any sort of conclusion to the Lucifer vs Alastor fight.

Alastor is a main character and basically the mascot of Hazbin Hotel. Yet he mostly serves as the devil on Charlie's shoulder in the first season. This would be fine if he served as a static character like Monokuma or Kyubei, but he clearly is meant to have depth.

Suggestion: Have Alastor pick more fights he can't win. We are shown that he is a sociopath who enjoys the suffering of others. Sociopaths who murder often get caught because they lack fear and get too arrogant. Alastor should have to fight to get back his overlord status and lose some fights due to arrogance.

Alastor's race and faith are window dressing. There is absolutely no weight to either Alastor being a mixed-race person from the 20s or him practising Voodoo. Both exist mostly to justify his shadow powers. Alastor also seems to get his power for 'free' as he does nothing in the series that even hints of worship.

Suggestion: Actually address both aspects. Voodoo especially (with the right research) could be interesting to tackle as the faith is a combination of Catholicism and African Diaspora faiths mixing. What does it mean to be a non-Christian in hell? How is his relationship with the pantheon? Does Alastor feel abandoned by his Loa?

Alastor doesn't have anything to do for most of the series. Aside from trolling Vox, Alastor basically leers in the background for most episodes until the very end. He has no goals or anything driving him but amusement. While at the end we know he HAS an overarching goal, it is in the last minutes of the last episode.

Suggestion: Alastor is most likely doing what he is doing because Lillith is pulling his leash. Give him moments of small rebellion and show him trying to find ways out. At first, it might seem he is just stealing for lolz, but every item is chosen as a way to get free.

General suggestions;

Show how meaningless it is to be an overlord. Hell has a lot of opportunities for its citizens, different ecosystems and cultures to live in and chances to make it big for everyone. The Sinners get none of that and are stuck in the Pride ring. Overlords are just slightly bigger fish in an aquarium, they have more power but are as much prisoners as the regular Sinners.

This should be shown more clearly with glimpses of Goetia nobles, the Deadly Sins and the like. Both Alastor and Vox should lose their audience to Verosika or Fizzarolli, nevermind Asmodeus.

Make Alastor's main goal a quest to leave the Pride Ring. Relating to the above, Alastor wants real power, he doesn't want to be chained in any way. Being close to Charlie and her being in his debt are stepping stones to true freedom in hell.

Showcase the lines he won't cross, then make him suffer for them. One of the tried and true ways to develop a character is to challenge their morality and resolve. Especially with characters as powerful as Alastor, it is important to know what could actually hurt them. Put his quest for power against his care for Mimzy and make him choose. Offer him what he wants but at the cost of his morality. The point is not to break him but to challenge him.

These are just a few suggestions I've had, but I feel they cut to the root of my problem with Alastor.

[pixiecactus]

day 7: future speculation or au

honestly i think this is a mix of speculation and of an au, because the speculation part is that my shipper heart hopes to see gendry becoming a stark, now i don’t think we could possibly see any gendrya offspring in the books, if they end with arya being a 14 year old in ados, but i'd like to think that they get married and decide to start a family/pack of their own, we are talking about the girl who fiercely defends the people close to her nevermind if they are blood related to her or not and we are talking about the boy that honored this trait of the girl he liked when he lost her from his side. i did talk a little about this in an ask i was sent, but i want to draw another parallel between lyanna and arya, with both of them having pregnancy complications, most particularity in the birthing part of the deal, currently we don’t know what made lyanna die at her birthing bed but we know that arya went through large periods of malnourishment during her developing years, so i can imagine that with every birth of a new child arya gets a little bit closer to meet lyanna’s fate, so arya and gendry decided together to stop trying for more children after the third one (i choose this number because arya and gendry both are the third child from what we currently know and if r+l=j is the truth) but arya and gendry still have a lot of love to give as parents so they start to adopt orphans and any person would meet arya and gendry’s combined fury is they dare to say that those kids are not starks as well as their biological children are.