#a ‘i want to draw a character ripping another character apart romantically’ thing

[coal15]

ALL OF THIS LONGASS POST IS JUST MY OPINION. I REPEAT, JUST MY OPINION:

Remember when 90% of the fandom shipped Buck with Eddie, or if not, at least hc bi Buck and/or gay Eddie? We were basically a united queer front. And now that Buck's bi narrative is being told through the lens of a romantic connection to another dude some viewers are gravitating toward that romance. Which I personally don't see as them gravitating away from the depth or importance of Buddie's relationship, it's just that another romantic queer option has been presented and it's drawing some fans. Why not? And it's simply not possible for Bucktommy shippers to be "betraying Buddie" because it's a freakin' ship, not a religion. They've just developed a new ship preference for their own reasons, and that's fine. (or enjoying things as they are for the moment which is also fine).

And I think the reason Tommy/Lou/Bucktommy has thrived and become popular when previous love interests didn't goes deeper than "those girls are getting in the way of our ship." At least not directly. It's that even bringing in those women in was always a sad attempt at "romances" when the network knew damn well the bulk of fandom wanted to see a queer narrative for them with or without Buddie (yes Buddie was the driving interest, but still, it was a bigger issue than that or at least I thought so) The audience preference was clear so the only reason for FOX to keep insisting on female love interests with not a breath of the words gay or bisexual beyond "wink-nudge jokes" was to aggressively tell us THEY'RE CLOSE BROS, YOUR SHIP IS JUST CLOSE BROS FOREVER AND EVER SO START SHIPPING THEM WITH THEIR GIRLFRIENDS RIGHT NOW! OH YOU DON'T LIKE THOSE GIRLFRIENDS? OKAY, HOW ABOUT THESE ONES?

That shit immediately put a sour taste in my mouth. And FOX would have kept the cycle going forever, sending in a revolving door of girlfriends whilst we continued to insist on seeing the clearly more meaningful and important queer narrative onscreen. So while I do ship Buck + Happiness at the end of the day, queer rep was important enough to me that the only girlfriend I would have accepted or welcomed would have needed to be bisexual (or pan, or demi, something) to wake him up to his queer identity beyond just being another shallow (comphet) love interest.

Tommy being the character to wake Buck to his queer identity automatically makes him more meaningful and important in the narrative than Buck's girlfriends. If I was placing bets I'd still put my money on Buddie as the probable endgame, that's just me, but there are good reasons why previous love interests were pushed off the show by fan rejection (some of which had to do with problematic actresses *cough*honorary latina*cough*) and why Tommy/Lou/Bucktommy is being embraced by so many.

****caveat: I don't mean to imply that there weren't some buddie fans coming from a place of misogyny when ripping apart past female love interests, I just think for the most part that criticism was a wild oversimplification, painting our whole fandom with the same ugly brush in order to invalidate our very valid pro-buddie (at least or pro-queer Buck and/or Eddie) arguments.

[ilikelookingatthings]

Some radiostatic theories

SO I like many who have watched read or come across hazbin hotel have gotten a mini fixation on the character Alistor, a red suspitious always smiling, radio deer cannibal serial killer, and Vox, a TV headed hynosis demon who is persuasive with his grin and is one of the overlords in the v club(including Valentino the moth man who runs a porn studio and Velveete who is a influencer fashion demon).

For me it's the draw of the t.v. killed the radio star vibes. They clearly used to be friends as vox is obsessed with him where Val brought him up to get under his skin, he has a old ripped picture of alistor and he had apparently asked alistor to join them before and was turned down... they clearly had big falling out.

There is alot of fun to play with. Some enjoy the one sided potential drama of vox being in love with alistor and that not being reciprocated because alistor might be somewhere on the acespectrum(not that alistor seems complete aware of that since he had no idea what Rosie meant when she called him a aceinthehole).

most who enjoy the one-sided view call it radiosilence.

Some enjoy the angst that is the pain of losing a friend when you don't return the romantic feelings. And that vox is the one at fault for leaving alistor behind by going with Val and Velveete and letting the chase of what's new creating a rift.

Some enjoy the idea of bitter ex boyfriends.

That the obsession isn't as one-sided as alistor didn't ignore vox's provocation.

Some make it about just romance being tye reason for the fall out...

....but honestly for me they give a kindof mister crabs, plankton energy. They are both in hell so are terrible people to some degree sp it would be a bit boring if the fall out was just about romance...a possible good opportunity to address unrequited love or the spectrum maybe but does feel kindof simple.

Especially considering the potential in rival best friends turn enemy old men have.

Friendship wise its already juicy for angst. Was it a misunderstanding? Lots of built up problems? Drifting apart as friends? A sense of betrayal on both ends?

Some people lean over one being more at fault than the other. A few lean to them both sucking. Some say jt was vix who didn't respect alistor just didn't like him back...others say it was alistor rejecting vox.

I would like to raise the theory that if vox DID have a crush on alistor...vox either didn't know he had it...or vox decided to not adress it because their friendship was more important to him and he could tell alistor didn't like him back romantically and that their fall out was from other issues in their friendship...like potentially love coukd be why vox felt more extremely hurt but I think it would be more interesting if vox's issue wasn't about unreturned feelings.

Like what if vox tried to distract himself to maje sure alistor wouldnt feel uncomfortable to make sure alistor didn't catch on to his crush and hence Valentino steps in who alistor might find worse in general?

And if it really was just a business partnership vox offered where he was just hurt his friend didn't join him on.

Makes me way more curious about their dynamic if their friendship was sincere but issues popped up.

What theories to others have that it might have played out? I'm just saying for someone who says he hates alistor why did he keep the side of the photo that has alistor on it and not himself?

What if alistor was the one with a crush but vox didn't realize is another interesting one since alistor is so pissed he seems to hate TV and other things involved vox despite how new media is interesting and alistor does know how to shoot a commercial and this way he does get vox's attention.

We've also seen alistor have a questionable triebd in mimsy...but did he really tell Mimsy to leave ciz he was upset...or does he care and doesn't want her involved with what he's doing now? And could that echo what he might have done with vox?

Heck it could be possible neither is aware of potential romanic feelings at all. Are in denial. One sided...betrayal because they had unrequited feelings that weren't returned...or feeling betrayed the other had romantic feelings whether they wanted to act on it or not.

Maybe it wasn't about romance and about how they handled friendship? Or just creative differences in how they handled things...competion driving them apart or how hell encouraged your worst self to come out. Heck they both could just have bruised pride somewhere that escalated.

[hellsbeenbettersincehesplit]

A oneshot character study of Husk based on one line from the pilot, focusing on if he were arospec. Cross-posted on here under the cut!

i lost the ability to love years ago

In life, Husk had only felt anything that could lead to a romance twice.

The first was when he was young and foolish. He’d had a few close friends. It began with lust, attraction, fascination. He caught himself staring, wondering over card games. He began fantasizing about a future the two would spend together. He’d done so many things he hadn’t cared for just to spend more time together. Looking back, he’d sometimes chuckle at how much money he’d lost- he could never keep his poker face.

He’d considered asking his friend out. He’d been ready to make a move, but life got in the way. The two drifted apart. Eventually, Husk’s feelings faded.

For a long time, he thought he’d blown his only chance. Sure, soulmates were a corny thing to believe in- but he hadn’t felt anything like that again for so long after that. What other conclusion was he supposed to draw?

The second time was for the woman he would one day marry. He worked in his family’s casino; she was a showgirl. He’d do magic tricks of one kind and she’d do another, and they’d both get the money off of someone or other. The two would meet up for drinks after their shifts every now and then. It started with physical attraction- she was gorgeous, who wouldn’t admire her? As time went on, and as he got to know her, he admired her sarcastic sense of humor, her jaded attitude, her creativity, her wit, even her ability to match him drink for drink.

He pursued her the conventional way. They’d gotten married in the deserts, because they didn’t want a Vegas wedding- what happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas, and as objectively false as the saying was, the location choice was about the sentiment- he wanted them to be a pair everywhere, forever. He’d briefly tried to become a stage magician, and while the career didn’t pan out, she had a genuine admiration for his skill. He’d eventually settled in Vegas and the two ran the casino together. They had a child, and it dawned on Husk one day that somehow, he’d ended up with a perfectly conventional life despite being a casino owner in Vegas.

Romance always struck Husk as odd. The idea of love at first sight was so popular, but Husk had always understood a difference between lust and romantic potential, and the latter never had anything to do with what he found at first sight. His friends would all laugh and call him a cynical bastard, and eventually, that’s how he saw himself. The same as everyone else, just a bit cynical about the whole romance thing.

She’d died of illness. It was a slow death, and she deserved better. He never remarried. He’d just maintained the casino his family had left him with his child and grew his wealth. He died of liver failure as an old man. It had been a miracle that it hadn’t happened sooner.

When he never found her, he knew in his gut that his wife had gone to Heaven. He was glad. As the years passed, Husk realized that his kid had also gone to heaven, whenever they’d died. Husk himself had gone to Hell. This wasn’t a surprise- he’d spent his life scamming people out of their money to accumulate his own wealth. He missed those two like they were a beating heart that’d been ripped from his chest, but more than that, he was relieved that the two most important people to him hadn’t gone where he did.

He opened up a new casino in Hell. It was scarily successful- so many souls were willing to gamble it all. On some level, he could understand why- they were in Hell. They didn’t exactly have much left to lose. He hadn’t even intended to become an overlord, but people kept betting them when they’d ran low on cash, and it was shockingly easy to just write a few clauses that the souls they gained at the casino would go back to Husk. The more souls he had, the bigger the casino got. The bigger the casino got, the more desperate sinners flooded in, ready and willing to bet even their soul for a chance of winning it big. The more power he amassed, the more he wanted more. The more he wanted, the more risks he’d take to get it. At some point, because he’d been on such a lucky streak, he began to view himself as untouchable.

Every demon knows that there are seven rings in Hell for the seven deadly sins. Pride, wrath, greed, lust, envy, sloth, and gluttony. In the end, it could’ve been greed, gluttony, or pride that was Husk’s downfall.

In the end, it didn’t actually matter which of the three it was.

He’d gambled. He’d lost. He’d bet his souls. He’d lost those too. He ran out of things to bet, and bet his soul. He’d never imagine he’d lose this badly. He should’ve cut his losses early on. He lost his soul and everything he’d built the entire time that he’d been in this pit.

The irony wasn’t lost on him that his downfall was the same way he’d screwed over so many sinners. It wouldn’t surprise him if that’s why the radio demon chose this specific method of taking down another overlord.

He quickly found himself as the radio demon’s favorite pet, as much as Husk despised it when he would use that term. The overlord thought flaunting the fact that he owned husk was fun in some sick kind of way. Husk found himself constantly needing a drink to cope with where his afterlife had gone- a habit that the radio demon picked up on. Suddenly, Husk was always around alcohol, always growing more dependent, always looking for the solutions to his problems at the bottom of a bottle.

He sometimes wondered if losing his soul meant he’d lost his ability to love. Sure, it was always rare. Probably rarer than any of his friends in life had felt such things, but everyone was different. Still, one day it had finally occurred to Husk that he hadn’t felt any kind of romantic attraction in decades. Just one more thing Alastor had taken from him. He chose to ignore that he hadn’t felt anything like that before he lost his soul. Plenty of souls down here were in relationships. Clearly, Husk wouldn’t have lost his capacity for romance when he died, so he must have lost it in that game of poker. Overlords affected the souls they owned in ways that were hard to understand at times, it wasn’t beyond reason to assume this could be a side effect.

Husk’s gambling only got worse after he gambled away his soul. He was the misguided soul with nothing to lose. Being at rock bottom meant he had everything to gain. His skill with poker hadn’t dissipated, and he’d make enough money to buy himself something nice every now and then.

The radio demon hated it when Husk was on a winning streak. Every time he’d start to get back a little bit of what he used to have, it’d all be lost again. The radio demon was always there, ready to remind Husk of his place.

If he ever wrote a memoir, he’d call it Husk: The Modern Sisyphus.

One day, the radio demon just. Disappeared. He stopped calling Husk, stopped having Husk do odd jobs, stopped being in Husk’s life. He could still feel the heavy, cold weight of the green chain around his neck, weighing down his every step. Husk still couldn’t go back to his old power. But the sinner who’d given those orders had vanished. It hadn’t taken him very long to figure out that Alastor had made a deal of some sort, and probably had to stay away for some reason or another.

Husk had started doing his stage magic again- it felt a little ridiculous in a place with actual magic, but his old heart still had a passion for these silly tricks.

Of course, the radio demon didn’t stay gone. Nothing good that happened to Husk could be permanent, not in Hell. In the blink of an eye, after seven years of peace, he was whipped from his latest game of poker and stuck bartending for some failing hotel. That was where he’d met Angel Dust.

Husk was attracted to the man. Of course he was. But Husk had never been one to think with his dick over his brain, and his brain told him that the spider was just a glitter and show with no proof of substance underneath. Husk didn’t let himself get flustered by the flirting. He had a perfect poker face, it was easy for him to identify someone else’s mask.

Husk thought Angel Dust was attractive. More than that, Husk thought Angel Dust was annoying. Until Husk finally got him to open up. Suddenly, it was like Angel was a prism that had just been exposed to sunlight, and Husk was seeing the hidden beauty that’d before been just out of reach.

Husk had thought selling his soul had cost him his ability to love, until a third person finally awoke those dormant romantic feelings in his heart. If he’d known about modern day labels, he likely would’ve identified as somewhere on the aromantic spectrum. Instead, he'd just accepted romantic attraction as something rare, and Husk moved on with his miserable afterlife.

[boxloonaer]

ripping your partner in half and eating them is kind of hot

[writer-akihiko]

Hello!

Ikemen sé request

the warlords realizing that Mc is very popular with their soldiers. Sending love letters and stuff.

IkeSen Boys + Popular!MC

This was so cute ahhh although I'm sorry if it's a little short, there's a lot of Ikemen to get through. Thank you and I hope you like this work!

Nobunaga Oda

Nobunaga thought it was quite odd that there were a lot of presents delivered to you... Which he didn't gift...

After some digging, he found out that you had garnered some popularity after a campaign

He was dumbfounded at the idea that other men could be attracted to you

He didn't quite like that, but being the person he is he did tell you his thoughts

You insisted that you wanted to keep some gifts to distribute to your maids. He agreed, but he just buys better gifts for you anyway

He's not as jealous as you'd expect, since the man is also a bit egotistical when it comes to himself and your feelings for him

"Oh... Nobunaga..." You wanted to laugh at how childish he was but it wouldn't be in the right taste.

You stopped your giggling when Nobunaga muttered, "I could transfer whoever sent those gifts to you away..."

"At least let me keep some!"

He silenced you with a quick kiss. "Whatever you like from the pile, I'll purchase better ones from the merchants."

Hideyoshi Toyotomi

He doesn't want to admit that he's jealous, but he is. He unknowingly calls out the soldier that was about to gift you a present in an oh so convenient timing…

He doesn't take it to such extremes, he still respects the other soldiers. Although, he found it quite tempting from time to time to not bring you along for some campaigns

In this case, he wished that Nobunaga hadn't demanded such things of you. He really does appreciate your skills on the field, but he doesn't like that he can't control how much attention you're getting

He only realises it once someone points it out to him, or when someone sends you a letter. Letters are an absolute no from him

"Lord Hideyoshi, what should I do with these letters for YN?"

"Burn them."

"Lord Hideyoshi, what should I do with these letters from the townswomen?"

"Oh, send them to my office-"

YN smacked Hideyoshi up in the head. "You hypocrite."

Mitsunari Ishida

Mitsunari did notice that you gained a lot of attention, but he knew that it was only from your good merits and character

In no way did he ever thought it was romantic, until Mitsuhide pointed it out

He wasn't sure how to feel about it. Sure, he was happy that a lot of people thought you were a wonderful person

However a small inkling of him wanted to keep it to himself

Seeing the multitude of gifts for you, the guilt hit him hard. What if you wanted gifts all along?

"YN, do you like it when those soldiers give you gifts?" He asked, as you opened another gift that consisted of a bunch of fabrics.

"I do appreciate it," You admitted. "But I don't plan to keep them for long. I share any snacks with the maids and fabrics with the seamstresses. Why?"

He didn't reply, except for the blush that bloomed on his cheeks.

You pecked his cheek, understanding what he meant. "You have no reason to be jealous, my sweet angel."

Mitsuhide Akechi

Not a lot of people can read him, and he uses that to his advantage. He sneaks up on those who had planned to give you gifts, and instead direct their attention to another maid or townswoman

In the end, with this strategy, you don't receive much gifts from soldiers. This doesn't work on his fellow warlords however

With you, he doesn't hide his frown when people like Shingen or Masamune send you gifts

He doesn't care for what reason it was for, the gift shall not be touched by you

"Mitsuhide? Have you seen a package from Masamune? He sent some really pretty Oshu fabrics for me…"

He sipped on his bland concoction of tea. "Why my dear, I wonder where it could be…"

You sighed. "You gave it away didn't you? Now I have to write to Masamune- Ah!"

Before you could continue any thoughts, your charming kitsune sweeped you up in his arms, smiling coyly at you. "Write to him? I'm afraid my jealousy won't allow that YN… I'd certainly be interested in writing my thoughts of you on your body…"

Ieyasu Tokugawa

Ieyasu surprisingly doesn't notice any traffic of gifts to you. It might be due to the fact that he publicly ban any gifters from his estate…

You still manage to get some from soldiers passing by or Ieyasu's fellow warlords gifting you as a token of appreciation

Only when you bring the gift home is when he realises how popular you are. He doesn't initially care, but similarly to Hideyoshi, he gets rid of any letters

He doesn't burn them, but he moreso stages it so you'd see adorable Wasabi chewing on the papers

"Hey Ieyasu? Oh-" You dropped to your knees, seeing Wasabi with some paper in its mouth once again. "Wasabi, you should know better than to chew on my letters! Ha… Looks like I have to apologise later on."

"Do you even remember the soldier that gave you the letter?" He looked up from his work to ask you.

You pouted. "No… But I'm sure I can ask around!"

He patted you head. "Don't waste your time on that. The maids should be done with dinner now. Let's go and eat."

Masamune Date

He notices your popularity early on, but he's not too bothered about it. In fact, he shows off that you and him are in a relationship

It might be a 'rubbing salt in wound' move but he doesn't care. He has a thrill of seeing some of his jealous subordinates, which he trusts that it is in all good favour

With the way he approached it, most admired you in a non-romantic way, and for those few that actually do, Masamune opts for a duel as a 'wholesome' way to solve the solution

The duels end up with him winning, and the challenger often with some pointers from Masamune during fighting

You wiped off Masamune's sweat from his brow, wondering why he suddenly went up to that random soldier. "Did something happen?"

"Didn't he give you that gift earlier?" He asked, confused. He put up a good fight, although he'd probably have to answer to Hideyoshi since the boy was under his army…

You shook your head. "It wasn't. He has a twin, and the twin is working under Mitsunari…"

Masamune stood up, groaning. "Looks like I have another duel YN. I'll be back by dinner!"

"H-Hoi! Masamune!"

Kenshin Uesugi

Jealousy plus Uesugi Kenshin equals disaster in Kasugayama Castle

Kenshin was shocked when he saw the servants carrying the presents in, specifically addressed to 'Princess YN'

No one could stop him from drawing his sword and rushing to the training grounds, where every poor soldier who passed by was forced to duel him

Yukimura and Sasuke were already battered from the multiple duels they had to face. You pitied the poor souls, so you sent some of your maids to heal up the soldiers that faced his wrath

Holding one of your many bunny children, you walked up to your soon-to-be husband, smiling at him. "Kenshin my dear, we should be on our way to our stroll…"

He tugged off the upper part of his kimono, his torso and upper body dripping with sweat from the fights. "I'll be with you YN, I just need to cool off. I shouldn't dirty you with my sweat."

For as much as you wanted to be proper, you couldn't help but stare at your perfectly sculpted fiance. "T-Take you time my dear."

Sasuke Sarutobi

For the many things he was dense about, this was not one of them. He saw the way some of the Nokizaru looked at you

He of course told them off, but he still had an inkling that some didn't get the memo

Within whatever wisdom he had left, he somehow consulted Kenshin on how to resolve this, which ended up Sasuke battling about half of the Nokizaru

You had no words on why half the men were injured and why your boyfriend was bruised as well. Initially you thought it was from some dispute, but Yukimura so kindly filled you in

You tightened the bandage around Sasuke's arm, giving a disappointed look to the group of ninja. "What do you have to say for yourselves?"

"We're sorry Princess YN."

"And what do you have to say, Sarutobi Sasuke?" You huffed.

"I won't go to Kenshin for romantic advice."

"Good."

Shingen Takeda

He is not oblivious to your charms, as well as the way other people were attracted to your charms

He'd be lying if he said he weren't jealous. Of course he was, but he didn't plan to do anything malicious to whoever sent you gifts

They were free to waste their money and/or time, it wasn't his business. He'd however, make it clear that you were taken

He's not above doting you in public, and sneaking kisses in the markets or kissing you as the rain goes by. He's very calm about it, since he sees the way you were attracted to him

"S-Shingen! We're going to a war council!" You patted his face away from your own, as the much taller man held you in his embrace.

"Embarrassed Princess?" He teased, giving you his sweetest smile reserved just for you. "But we've done many affectionate things in public…" "People will see!"

He kissed your cheek. "Let them see how in love we are."

Yukimura Sanada

He is another victim of Kenshin's not-so great love advice, hesitating to pick up his spear at anyone who sent you glances. Well… it was Kenshin's advice… and no way he'd risk getting teased by Shingen by asking him!

He then opted for a silent jealous strategy, keeping you by him and covering you with his body everytime he felt someone looking at you

You wondered why he was acting so odd, after all, you just wanted to go on a nice stroll with Yuki and Muramasa

Luckily, to Yuki's benefit, Muramasa is a good wolf who knows to rip apart any letters that come to you or hound after any men that look at you the wrong way

"Is it just me, or is Muramasa a little more energetic than usual?" You asked your boyfriend as you folded your kimono underneath you to sit on the impromptu picnic blanket.

Yuki shook his head, handing you over the basket of food. "He's probably just excited to see us… I think…" He said, as Muramasa runs off into the bushes with what he could see was a paper in his mouth.

Kennyo

Kennyo doesn't really know what to do with this information. He's quite unsure if you wanted the attention or not

He thought the issue didn't need to be brought to your attention, as most of those around you are most likely his subordinates

He could… simply remind them of the holistic teachings that was preached to them

It does a good effect, as most quickly dispelled any sort of romantic attraction

He doesn't mind his subordinates admiring you out of respect, as he thinks you deserve such respect for your deeds

You clapped your hands after hearing your boyfriend's sermons. "You impress me every time my beloved," You said, pecking him on the cheek. "I'm always in awe when you deliver your preachings."

He shied away from you, "My dear, you praise me so…" He couldn’t stop repeating those praises over and over in his head, wanting to pen down the exact words you said. "Thank you YN."

[moonctzeny]

get to you again

pairing: friends to lovers! hendery x fem!reader 

genre: smut, just a tiny teeny bit angsty I guess but with a happy ending, fluff

word count: 3k

warnings: raw sex, creampie, a little corruption kink?

summary:  “You wanted to lurch forward at him, tackle him onto the dusty road, and thank him by kissing every inch of his face. Hold him under the stars until you were covered with his smell, and the necklace wouldn’t be needed anymore; you could cling onto that memory instead. The urge was so strong that it made your heart physically hurt, knowing that you fell for the one person you shouldn’t have. But the heart wants what it wants, right?”

inspiration: get to you again - mac ayres

tagging the lovely: @markresonates

It had been too long since you last saw Hendery.

You two had met so unexpectedly, both trapped in a small coffee shop a couple years ago, drenched to the bone and trying to find cover from the sudden rainfall.

“I was going to ask you if you were willing to share your umbrella, but I’m guessing you forgot it on the wrong day like me”, he joked, so you decided to share a table instead. After the fourth time he had you clench your stomach in laughter, out of the sheer willingness to make a stranger like you cheer up, you decided to exchange phone numbers, thus starting what would become a beautiful friendship.

It wasn’t easy being an idol. Two promotions in Korea, then a reality show in China, then another comeback. You counted the days, one by one until he’d get to you again. Until you’d finally re-watch his favorite movie with him for the millionth time, just to get to watch him laugh over the same stupid lines.

You weren’t sure when you realized you had fallen for him. Maybe it was last winter, almost exactly a year ago when he handed you your Christmas present. He had driven you on a hill on the outskirts of Seoul, the only place he knew with some privacy from prying eyes, and the breathtaking view of the tiny city lights made the freezing cold worth it. You were both sitting against the hood of his car, admiring the big city that seemed to unravel at your feet when you opened the small velvet box.

It revealed a silver necklace of two wings hanging from a dainty chain, with his initials carved on the back of the charm. As you stared at it long enough to make sure you weren’t making things up, you couldn’t decide which one was more beautiful- the pendant or the stars in Hendery’s eyes as he waited for your reaction.

“It’s symbolic”, he started explaining, a little embarrassed with how much effort he had put into the gift, “I know I’m not around a lot to take care of you, but just know that I’m always there if you need me. Like your guardian angel”.

He sounded so wholesome while saying it, long bangs covering his eyes that bashfully avoided yours. You wanted to lurch forward at him, tackle him onto the dusty road, and thank him by kissing every inch of his face. Hold him under the stars until you were covered with his smell, and the necklace wouldn’t be needed anymore; you could cling onto that memory instead. The urge was so strong that it made your heart physically hurt, knowing that you fell for the one person you shouldn’t have. But the heart wants what it wants, right?

Tonight, it was beating as fast as the rhythm of the blinking Christmas lights decorating your living room. How could it not, with Hendery sitting only a few inches away, sharing a blanket with you? He was a few minutes late due to a last-minute photoshoot, but he arrived at your door bare faced and dressed in his favourite flannel shirt. He was just how you liked him, raw and soft and beautiful.

Unlike what you had predicted, he suggested checking out a new romantic comedy on Netflix. It was one of those that come out every Christmas season, all with the same low budget and cheesy acting that ended with some festive spirit that magically solves every plot hole. Two childhood friends, falling in love with each other, yet the girl thinks that the guy is way out of her league so she does nothing about it. The pure irony convinced you that the universe must be surely playing some sick joke on you, forcing you to look at a Hollywood version of yourself getting a happy ending for the next two hours.

“I don’t understand”, Hendery huffs in frustration, midway into the film by now, “why doesn’t the girl just tell him she likes him? What guy doesn’t want to hear that?”

“Maybe she’s scared of the rejection, or ruining everything-“ you start defending the character with a raised voice, realizing that maybe you’re invested in the movie a little too much, “sometimes there is this line between two people, and it’s comfortable to stay behind it because you don’t want to lose them in case something goes wrong”. You draw an invisible line with your index finger between your bodies, and Hendery focuses his stare on it as if it was real. He looks lost in his thoughts, still frozen in place before shaking his head and murmuring: “I guess you’re right”.

Your comment, his response, the sex scene playing on the screen. It all made you so painfully alert with his presence that your whole body tensed up and your mouth dried up like it was filled with cotton. You both chuckle in the midst of all the steaminess, as the actor fails to drag his former best friend at the edge of the bed by tagging on her ankle.

“What a loser”, Hendery scoffs mockingly at the character’s mistake, and you turn around to give him a side eyed glare.

“Relax, muscle man. Like you would do it better”

He mocks offense by opening his mouth dramatically, and you giggle at the distortion of his face that still somehow managed to look pretty. It was so cute, how he always wanted to look ‘strong’ in the eyes of others, reliable and macho. You didn’t care about any of that, you thought his resolutions were stupid. He was perfect in your eyes.

“Of course I would! I’m strong, look-“

The disaster played out in front of you like a filmstrip. His hands on your ankle, then his own ankle tripping over the blanket on the floor, and finally the feeling of his chest weighing down over your own. With him pressed so close against you, you were sure he must feel the way your heart is thumping, filled with so many emotions that it’s ready to jump out of your body.

The room was cold, but with Hendery’s sudden body heat coating you, you felt like you were on fire. The fleeting thought of you taking off your clothes, to relieve yourself of the suffocating feeling made your cheeks burn even more. Hendery’s neck was exposed just inches in front of you in it’s full glory, and you thought about where those veins on the side of it, visible through his pale skin, ended. You’d gladly kiss along the path they drew, let your teeth leave little violet blossoms on the way, while you’d make mental notes of what kisses made him react the loudest.

It’s his bangs tickling your temples that made you realize that he is still on top of you. You look up into his eyes, expecting a frantic look, maybe a string of apologies leaving his mouth. He was strangely serene, staring at your own lips instead, and for a second you thought he’d finally mercy you and give you what you daydream about every time he comes around. You’d kill for the sight of him with puffy red lips and blown out pupils, messy just for you. You’d kill for the feeling of his tongue against your own.

When he plants a kiss on your right cheek, right over the corner of your mouth, you think it tastes bittersweet. You were still high on the intimacy when he finally apologizes and rips his body away from yours, your crash back down to reality brutal. The movie was still playing on a high volume, yet all you heard was a deafening silence after his trip. You don’t object when he tells you he has to go before you get to see what happens to the couple behind the screen. They were eating you away, all the things you wanted to say to him as you sent him off, so much more than just a ‘drive safe, text me when you get home’.

Those thirty minutes after you close your front door felt like a lifetime. You replayed the accident over and over again in your head, the skin burning where he kissed you. The thoughts of calling him, telling him to turn around and finish what he started, were so loud that you felt like a crazy person.

You certainly thought you went insane when you heard a knock against your door. Peeking through the peephole, you’re surprised to see that, as if you’d unlocked the secret of manifestation, Hendery was standing once again in your hallway.

“Guanheng? Did you forget anything?”

He looked restless and fidgety as he walked back inside your apartment, like he couldn’t wait to let out whatever was on the tip of his tongue. His shoulders were coated in a light layer of snow that had managed to flush his face, and dampen his hair and eyelashes as well.

“No- well- yes, I-“. He stopped himself mid sentence and sighed, and you let him collect his thoughts. He looked serious, the expression foreign on his usually bright features, yet the way he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration made butterflies fly in your stomach. “What did you say about that line between two friends again? When we were watching the movie?”

You blinked back at him in confusion, waiting for him to tell you that he’s joking, he just forgot his charger, and he’ll see you again when his company allows him to. But he doesn’t, so you start to roll the pendant he gifted you between your thumb and index, trying to calm yourself down.

“It keeps two people that are meant to be together apart, but there is too much at stake to cross it”.

You start drawing that invisible line again, the one that separates the miserable comfort of denying your feelings for him and everything you wish you were brave enough to pursue.

He would be brave for the both of you.

Hendery grabs your lifted hand, bringing it on the side of his neck before he crashes his lips against yours. You don’t hesitate in kissing him back, hungry for his lips that taste as sweet as you imagined them to. He hasn’t realized how impossibly close to his body he has brought you, not until his embrace gets so tight that your necklace pokes uncomfortably against his chest.

You suck on his bottom lip and he welcomes you with his tongue, the kiss getting so heated now that you can’t help but tug on his hair to keep you grounded. Shivering from your action, his hands are now sliding from your hips to your waist, following the curves of your body until he reaches the underside of your breasts. You mewl against his lips as his thumbs dig into their softness, discreetly trying to cop a feel through your cotton shirt.

A moan leaves your mouth, lewd and desperate as he swallows it with a kiss, and he rips himself off of you when it seems to reach his stomach. He looks disheveled, as if he woke up from an intense, lucid dream; panting, sweating, staring at you with those big puppy eyes.

“We- we shouldn’t. We are going too fast, right?” You nod in agreement at his question but you’re not really listening. You had your fingertips placed on his moving lips, and he identifies the metallic smell as the remnants of you fidgeting with your jewelry earlier. “I should take you to dinner first, to that one place you like so much”. Losing interest in what he is saying, the words being too distant and grey when he stood so deliciously in front of you, you mindlessly start to unbutton his shirt, fascinated with that mole over his collarbone and wanting to see more.

The fire your fingers spread against his skin, in the midst of the chilliness of your living room has him groaning under his breath, with a voice as low and sexy as in his good morning calls. You can practically see him throw all his inhibitions out the window when he kisses you again, pushing you with his body until your back finds the nearest wall. Hendery’s hands are far from gentle now, leaving bruises behind all the soft spots he kneads with his fingers.

“I want you”, you confess with a whisper as you rid him off his flannel for good, and you can’t stop yourself from tracing all the lines of his toned abdomen. You can feel his heart thumping loudly in his chest, its fast rhythm matching yours. You grab his hand to lead him to the carpet next to the Christmas tree that is blinking along with the lights that adorn it- you’re too impatient in your arousal to take him to your bedroom and he doesn’t protest.

Hendery lays you on your back, finding his place between your legs as you wrap them around his waist to bring him closer. You remove your hoodie and the sports bra you had on, his lips immediately latching onto one of your nipples. He circles his tongue around the bud, licking and sucking on it interchangeably until you’re a begging mess underneath him.

Tugging on the elastic band of his sweats, you urge him to get naked for you completely, and he removes the extra garments with a strong pull. His sex bouces out of its cotton constraint, red and throbbing and aching for you. It makes the heat that’s pooling on your lower stomach spread even further, and you wiggle your hips to remove your sweatpants as well.

There’s something about the frilly pink panties you’re wearing- the innocent design on your shapely body that ignites a carnal instinct in him. He wants to ruin you, mark you, make you his. The sound of fabric getting ripped has your eyes bulge out in shock. You’ve never seen Hendery so determined.

He falls on top of you again, leaving urgent kisses on your jawline as he rubs his hard member against your heat. It’s driving you insane, how he’s so close to where you want him but not quite there yet, and you tug his hair again to make him look at you.

“I wanna feel you raw”

And raw was how he’d give it to you. You feel his warm hand over your stomach, keeping you in place as he aligns himself with your entrance, and the pressure his tip’s already feeling has him cursing out.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this”

He dips himself slowly into your pussy, careful not to stretch you uncomfortably much. His worried eyes are glued to your wide ones, reading your expressions to ensure they’re those of pleasure. And indeed they are, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when he bottoms out fully, a symphony of both your moans filling the room.

He starts out with a steady rhythm, your pussy adjusting to his size with every calculated thrust. You’re getting drunk with the intimacy, with his smell that sticks to your skin and the sweet nothings he whispers in your ear. You feel addicted to it already, to the feeling of having him be a part of you, and as his growing desperation has him picking up his pace, yours makes you wish you could live in that moment forever.

“I don’t think I’ll last much longer”

”Neither do I”

He can tell how close you are, your heaving chest and guttural sounds giving you away. His cold fingers find your clit then, rubbing your sensitivity in messy circles and pumping more blood to the area.

“Yes, baby. Let go for me”

Little stars of various colors dance around in your vision, framing the sight of Hendery fucking into you so beautifully. You enjoy the hypersensitivity that the continuing motion of his hips gives you, locking your legs around his waist as his thrusts turn sloppy.

“Come inside me”

Just those simple words, slipping out of your pretty mouth are enough to send him over the edge, grunting as he paints your walls in ropes of white. You feel him twitching inside you for a good while, your belly bulging in fullness. It drips out of you slowly when he finally gets off of you, his hands spreading your thighs apart so that he can admire his creation.

He chuckles in disbelief of what you two just did, removing a piece of fake snow that somehow landed on your hair. You can only admire the way his Adam's apple bobs up and down, all the little curves and shadows on his neck, his smile that gives you tunnel vision.

“All this time…”, he whispers softly, “you liked me too?”

You silently winced at the naiveness of his words, knowing damn well your feelings ran way deeper than a simple attraction. Nodding affirmatively, you avoid looking at his eyes by pretending to play with his fingers. You can’t let him see the way they have glossed up, yet the numbing feeling of disappointment is getting hard to ignore.

He doesn’t let you distance yourself from him further, lifting your chin up so you can make eye contact with him again. To your surprise, he looks way more nervous than you, subconsciously nibbling on his lower lip. He takes a deep breath, mustering up some courage before verbally letting his thoughts out of his chest.

“What if I told you I am in love with you?”

You were shocked at the confession, so much so that this reality seemed like a figment of your subconscious mind. You expected to wake up at any moment, to find yourself asleep on your couch, two feet away from him and still stuck in the sucky friendzone. But that moment never came, no matter how long you held your breath to trigger your awakening, and you let it go with a sigh and a blurb of your own thoughts.

“I’d ask you to be mine”

[wh6res]

dreams come true | yuta

"soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks." — ny

[ part of the my bloody valentine collection ]

tw. gore, blood, murder, death, killings, mentions of illegal organ trafficking, violence, mentions of stalking, minor character deaths, weapons (a knife and a gun), almost (??) suggestive content but nothing happened

disc. this is rlly fucked up and yuta is unredeemable. i dont condone such acts. this is all a work of fiction and meant to entertain.

wc. 5k

every time you sleep, the void is sickening. it was all you could see, lightyears and lightyears away of pitch black that made your head dizzy and your stomach dry heave. you've always wondered when you'll start dreaming about your soulmate's memories. they were like little secrets, another way for two people to be intimate without even being together. their days were flashing before their soulmate's eyes in the form of a dream. it's as if you spent the day with them!

you loved it, the whole concept of it. it sounded so wholesome and sweet and jesus fucking christ, you've always been such a hopeless romantic.

it was sweet until it turned sour. you loved it until you hated it. it was romantic until it turned downright terrifying.

you wake up covered in cold sweat, panting and gasping as if you've run a whole marathon.

moonlight seeps through your glass window, slightly left ajar for the midnight breeze to pass through – you walk up to it, pull it shut, and draw your thick curtains together. you exhaled, breath shaking as you tried to anchor yourself back to the ground.

with the only source of your light disappearing, darkness envelops you whole. for once, you craved the void. you want that void back if it meant never seeing something like that again – something straight out of your worst nightmare.

"119, what's your emergency?"

"uhm, i think… i think i just witnessed a massacre."

you reiterate everything you saw in the dream – the mahogany door, paint chipping off the drywalls. the doorknob was rusty, so were the hinges, and it made an ominous creak when pushed open. the light switches on, the first you see was a bunch of dirty ice coolers in what should've been the living room, it wasn't even the slightest bit organized. they were everywhere, and the floor looked grimy and disgusting, like there's a stain they can't seem to scrub off. only when your soulmate has stalked closer did you see the labels haphazardly taped on top of the ice coolers.

kidneys. livers. lungs. pancreas. intestines – you nearly vomited on the floor, trying to relay everything you saw to the operator on the other end of the call.

then came the gruesome parts.

their deaths.

they were five people in total. men clad in cheap t-shirts and pants, wearing all these similar leather jackets. some were well-built, ripped in the arms and thighs, but some were skinny, the jackets hanging on their small frames.

they never stood a chance against him.

your soulmate is agile, quick on his feet with outstanding eye-hand coordination. only equipped with a butcher's knife, but it was all he needed to take them down and send them knocking on inferno's gates. he was skilled, knowing when to pounce and where to slash his knife to maim but never to kill. by the time your soulmate was through with them, everything is bloody red. all the victims' eyes widened as they sputtered and choked on their blood – not dead, but dying...

because your soulmate wasn't done yet.

a killer should have a modus operandi, should they not? so he took out a desert eagle, stood before the bleeding bodies, and shot two bullets straight into their eyes. the finishing touch? carving a frown on their faces with his butcher's knife.

the operator only told you one thing after she's made you describe the place for them to track the crime scene down.

"double-check all your windows and doors."

because you couldn't be too sure, not when you have been granted a front seat to the sad face slayer's most recent endeavors.

the detective eyes you with a certain pity. maybe that's why you don't bother meeting his eyes. you sit still on a chair, camera blinking red behind him, the interrogation room is freezing even with the thick jacket you're wearing.

seven billion people in the world and you're soulmate's a ruthless serial killer who took it upon himself to purge the world of evildoers – he was playing god, no wonder the detective is looking at you like that.

"uhh…" he's awkward, fidgeting in his seat. "and you saw this all in a dream?"

"yes."

you've known him only minutes ago. mark lee was his name and he seems to be a subordinate of a higher, more experienced detective named kim doyoung. you don't know whether to feel offended or not for having a doe-eyed newbie taking care of the case, but you pushed it at the back of your mind, knowing his superior is watching on the other side of the two-way mirror.

"did you have, like, other past instances where you dreamt of him? of what he…" mark looked like he was going to throw up. "what he does to his other victims?"

you shook your head. no. "i've mostly just heard of him on the news. i don't think i have the stomach to find out in-depth what the killer does."

mark takes out a folder, features walking the fine white line between looking apologetic or wanting to say me too. "i'm, uhh, really sorry to hear that."

there's a sudden pregnant silence encapsulating the interrogation room. it felt like you were mourning for something, the chains of dread dragging your heart to the ground as it pounded against your ribcage. mark looked like he wanted to say something, but you swore his eyes darted towards the camera in the corner and decided otherwise.

"anyway…" he trails. flipping the folder open in one swift motion. "past sightings have given us the sad face slayer's name."

he slaps down a picture of a man, his hair raven and a permanent scowl etched on his face. the quality was shitty. it looked like it was a screenshot taken from zoomed-in cctv footage.

"nakamoto yuta, twenty-five, japanese, and has slipped one too many times past authorities that at this point, it's practically a talent."

and just like that, it made sense why you're here.

your lips pursed in contemplation, palms quaking as your fingers reach forward to inspect your soulmate's picture. "and… you want to use my soulmate connection –" you glowered. never had a sentence sounded so fucking cursed and utterly wrong. "– to catch him?"

mark can't look you in the eye. "yes. he's very elusive. his killings have been happening cross-country and, as you can see, have garnered national media attention. the police are hanging by a thread here. a month in his case and all we got is his MO, name, and that he has this weird god complex on him. if we can't catch him by the end of next month…" he shrugs. "the feds are going to interfere, sooner or later."

"so…" you trail, urging him to continue.

"so, we need as much information about him as we can get and your dreams about him will be able to provide that."

fucking great.

the much newer revelations of precisely who it was on the other end of the soulmate connection put a significant damper on your mood. you'd like to think your new little cop buddy who follows you around gives you the least bit sense of security, but alas, it doesn't. not when you've seen first hand how yuta took down five men all at once without breaking a fucking sweat – you absolutely refuse to call him your soulmate, you'd never accept a person with his nature as a soulmate.

you try to hide the bracelet mark handed you last two weeks ago, during your time spent in the precinct's interrogation room.

"please have this on you at all times until we catch him, okay? this is for extra measures, just in case something happens to the cop assigned to guard you. just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?"

considering you're now probably being hunted alive for snitching on a serial killer? mark lee, that was not funny at all.

"do you have to get inside the lecture with me?" you whine, shielding your face with your hair when you notice people shooting glances at the rather handsome cop they assigned to you. "it's not like he'll attack in broad daylight! and in a fucking classroom, for that matter."

jaehyun looks just about ready to hurl you out the window. "lower down your voice," he scolds. "serial killers don't pick a time and place, sweetheart. he kills when necessary and if it's fucking necessary to murder everyone in that classroom to get to you? he'll do it in a fucking heartbeat."

you sigh when the chair next to you screeches against the floor, the aforementioned male taking his seat right next to you. jaehyun felt more like a babysitter than a cop, who seems to have a habit of constantly inputting his not-even-needed opinions on the most superficial things.

are witness protection protocols like this?

it was a good thing that overgrown bat doesn't come hanging around in your apartment, but he does have the police car parked right across the building's entrance. judging by how meticulous and thorough he seems to be, he won't miss any face that comes in and out of the building.

you didn't forget exactly why you're under witness protection. for the cops to waste one good officer to follow you around, you needed to be valuable and being valuable meant sleeping through nightmare-induced dreams of what your soulmate does for a living. the scenes are so gruesome, so graphic and utterly gory, that you dart towards the bathroom first thing after waking up in cold sweat, draining all of dinner down the toilet bowl.

after dreaming of him in action a few times, you've now completely understood what detective lee had said regarding yuta's god complex. it was unsightly, yet there was a twisted sense of heroism to it. if there's one thing, he only gutted the bad guys – but that didn't make nakamoto yuta any less of a bad guy, himself.

i need to ask you a favor [sent 2:05am]

JJH: what? [received 2:10am]

often the nightmares were too much. too much that you thought of escaping its horrors by never getting a wink of sleep ever again – until you realized you're a witness and is probably the only chance for the seoul police department to catch that bastard.

buy me sleeping pills? [read 2:08am]

when you peep out of the window, you find an empty spot across the road where jaehyun usually parks the police car. twenty minutes later, you answer the knocking on your door. he used that little "code" he did for you to know it was him. jaehyun was glowering and muttering about how he wasn't some errand boy when he shoved the plastic bottle in your hand yet, you still thanked him nonetheless.

the pills worked like a charm. you managed to stay asleep throughout the whole night, ceasing those episodes of yours where you jolt awake in the middle of dreaming about the sad face slayer's memories.

life continued for you. it became a little bearable, but that didn't mean the horrific murders you see in your dreams are something you can get used to – you don't think you'll ever get used to the sight of him slashing his victims, the blood trickling like a goddamned waterfall.

today the dreams were different. anticlimactic, per se, if you compare it to the violence so utterly present in his memories.

the first you see were black gates, then it shifted to him ordering coffee in a café (amazing what a simple black mask can hide). it switched to him walking on a sidewalk, then he arrives at his destination, an apartment building – it wasn't too rundown, nor was it extravagant.

the serial killer takes the elevator and walks up to a mahogany door –

your room number is a blaring sight.

you couldn't be wrong, not when the 506 with the missing zero in the middle was a sight you saw every day, going and coming home from university.

that was your front door.

he was at your front door.

you jolt awake, ignoring the icky feel of sweat making your clothes cling onto your skin. ice creeps up your spine and freezes you over when you notice with a sinking realization.

those black gates are from the university you attended. that café is your favorite study nook. and that sidewalk is a route you take every day.

you clamp your hands on your mouth as tears roll down your cheeks in rivulets. you pull the comforters up above your head, fear gripping onto you with a vice-like grip as you sob.

it was in the dead of night, moonlight grazing the confines of your room and hours away from dusk. you finally utter those three words in a frightened whisper.

"he's stalking me."

as if having the overgrown bat jaehyun following and annoying you around wasn't enough, you now have another person keeping watch over you. mark lee, unlike jaehyun, may not be as ripped with muscle, but you heard from your cop buddy that the young detective has a few black belts under him. people at the precinct said that if they have to choose one person who can ever come close to the sad face slayer's agility, mark lee's your guy.

"you gotta be shitting me," you mutter, leaning close to jaehyun to whisper like high school girls talking about gossip. "he doesn't look the type!"

jaehyun, in turn, plays along and copies you. "yeah, true. he gets that a lot, i think,"

"guys, i'm literally in the back seat. i can hear everything."

the change hadn't been too drastic. at least mark was there when jaehyun proved to be difficult, pulling him towards the other way when the older male tried waltzing into your class again. "you don't need to sit next to her in her class! are you serious? there's one exit and entrance and we're on the fifth floor. breaking into that classroom will be the end of nakamoto's serial killer career!"

you shoot mark an appreciative smile, one he quickly returned before hauling jaehyun around the hallway. "we'll just be at the canteen, okay? press the 'lil button on your bracelet and we'll be right there!"

shaking your head with a slight smile on your face, you entered the classroom, sat in your usual spot, and did some of your readings from our other class to kill time. you hardly hear the screech of the chair next to you as it was pulled back. not like you cared much for whoever sat down next to you, but you can't deny there's that feeling of missing jaehyun when he used to force his way into the lecture.

"settle down! settle down, people!"

the professor enters and the class begins.

you were meticulous with your note-taking system. it's thorough, leaving no room for information to slip you. having already printed hard copies of the powerpoint presentation and simply jotting down some extra key points mentioned by your professor.

you were just about to raise your hand for a question when you feel something warm graze past your arm. you absentmindedly look down.

the breath is sucked right out of your lungs.

hi, soulmate

there, scribbled with an ominous red crayon on a small piece of paper. it was almost laughable how innocent it looked but when you follow the ring-clad hand, up the black hoodie he's wearing, and finally to his face—

"hi! i'm yuta."

his cheshire smile spikes up your heartbeat. it makes you want to throw up, makes you want to slam your head against the desk. the fight or flight hormone you have is making you restless, eyes pinned on the serial killer sitting next to you, scared that if you avert your gaze, he's going to take out that desert eagle and shoot you until your skull caves in and the bullets in his magazine empties.

"but judging by your reaction, i don't think introductions are needed, hm?" his tone is easy, conversational even and it shoots a freezing jolt of fear right up your spine. it makes you sweat profusely because you don't fucking know what to do, your thoughts in complete and utter disarray.

"just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?" you swallow, sneakily pressing the button without breaking eye contact with the serial killer sitting in front of you.

"look upfront. now." yuta orders and you nearly snap your neck as you turn your head with lightning speed.

"i thought i was above the soulmate rules, but here we are. my soul is either too tainted or too great to be tied to such trivial things, but oh well, we learn to work with what we have. surprisingly, i learned to like dreaming about how your day went."

you feel something sharp poking at your thigh and when you look down, he has a silver butterfly knife pointed against you. the precision of the angle he held it with doesn't slip your notice. one slice of that knife, no matter how small, and he'll be spilling your guts in this classroom.

a fat tear rolls down your face.

"can you imagine how much my heart broke when i learned you were spying on me? leaking information to that snobby detective? to those incompetent cops? bad baby, that was very bad of you."

"yuta—"

"you think the cops can save you from me?"

his other hand comes in contact with the nape of your neck, holding your head in place as he leaned down to invade your space. he scoffs, and you can picture that terrifying cheshire grin you've seen one too many times in your dreams.

the knife digs through your coat, the tip hardly poking your skin only because he doesn't want to drive it into you yet. how did he even manage to get inside the university? not to mention the weapons he possessed? shouldn't anyone be suspicious when they see a man dressed in all black, clad in jeans and a hoodie, into a university—

he even dressed the part. with that hood drawn up and carrying that one notebook, he looked fairly normal. someone who can easily blend in with the crowd.

you eye your professor, willing him to look at you but your soulmate is having none of that. you squirm when he drives the knife further, at the base of your stomach. with his other hand, he twirls a lock of hair around his finger. "now, now, soulmate. you don't want half the people here to get hurt, do you? unless... that can easily be arranged—"

"no!" you whisper, head jerking to the side to look at him humming in satisfaction. damn. out of all the faces he's seen contorted with fear, yours is his absolute favorite. with those pleading, glassy eyes and parted lips, yuta is tenting in his sweats.

"thought so," he chuckles. "let's get up. we're leaving. that old crook doesn't care if students just up and went in the middle of his lecture."

you don't want to think about how he even knew that because it implied attending the lectures a good amount of times. it's with sinking realization that jaehyun was right. if it weren't for him insisting to sit next to you, nakamoto yuta would've long gotten you in his claws.

you tried gathering your things until he purred into your ear.

"ah, ah, ah. you wouldn't be needing those with where we're going."

the hallways were empty, not that you had much time to scream for help when he had a knife pointed up your back, shoving you into the fire escape stairs. within the tranquil confines of the staircases, the sad face slayer couldn't fucking care less for your personal space.

he disgusts you greatly, he needn't do anything but stand there in front of you but you can already smell the long blood trail from his path. it reeks of rotting flesh and that infuriating god complex he had left a sour aftertaste.

"you know, i genuinely wanted to get to know you," yuta pouts, shaking the hoodie off his head. his hair raven, it's ends kissing the nape of his neck. he looked like he came right out of a shounen manga but the bloodlust in his eyes is something that can never be masked. "i detested the soulmate connection at first, i thought i should just kill you off because you could be my loose end."

his humorless smile is enough to give you nightmares.

"but seeing how sweetly normal and untainted you are made me hold back," the butterfly knife appears before your line of sight, yuta teasingly dragging the tip right down your cheek to trace your tears. "so, why did you snitch, baby?"

you shiver when he noses the side of your neck, inhaling your scent as his other hand hooks underneath your top, freezing fingers making you jolt. when you don't reply, his patience starts to dwindle. then again, he was never a patient man.

"answer me, you bitch. why did you rat me out?" gone is the playful lilt in his voice. the vibrations surge through you as his deep, demanding voice scares you shitless.

you feel, hear, and smell him everywhere. this wasn't like any nightmare. this is real, and you won't magically wake up on your bed, sighing in relief, knowing he isn't there, that it was all just in your head. no, this was very much real and there's absolutely no escape.

"i didn't," your voice cracks. "i didn't mean to—"

"bullshit!" he yells. you wail in pain when he slams you against the wall, head aching as it came in contact with concrete. "because of you betraying me, i nearly fucking got caught, and i never get caught!"

you were full out sobbing at this point, noisy and unsightly as the snot mixes with your tears. your only hope now is he gives you a quick, painless death and that he doesn't carve and mutilate your face like what he always does to his other poor victims. "i'm sorry! please... i'm so sorry. i was scared—"

he coos mockingly, tilting his head to the side as he inched his face closer. "aw, scared? my sweet little soulmate was scared?" he places the blade flat against your neck. as humiliating and degrading as it was, you almost peed on your clothes. "how about now? i'm sure as hell that you're fucking terrified for your useless life right now."

you cringe when his hand abandons the expanse of your stomach, no longer inching higher, finding its purchase on the hair sitting at the crown of your head. he holds you in place like that, forcing your head parallel against the wall, with his whole body pressing up to you that it's nearly suffocating.

"just one quick little slice," he taunts. you hiccuped when you feel the feathery light scrape of the blade moving against your skin. "you won't even have time to scream… but i'm sure we don't want that, do we?"

you forgot how to speak. forgot how to breathe. whenever your mind wanders, you've always thought about how you'll give this killer a piece of your mind, with the amount of fear and sorrow he inflicts upon other people. but you guess realities were a lot more different than expectations. the yuta you dreamed of meeting is in handcuffs, but fate is a fickle little thing.

"do we?" he repeats, slicing ever so slightly at your skin. enough to draw blood in droplets, never a waterfall.

"n – no."

he smiles. "you can make it up to me. do you want to make it up to me?"

the butterfly knife digs even further. a warning. and if you value your useless life, you should be smart enough to know what to answer. drawing a shaky breath, you tried forcing the ends of your lips up to a smile. "of course, yuta."

your voice breaks as your sobbing grips your body whole. the fear consuming your entire being like a parasite consuming the host. you would've shut down altogether if it weren't for the calloused hands gently gripping your face. "i know, i know. i see how regretful you are, baby. don't worry, i won't hurt you. you'll make it up to me."

anyone would be fucking stupid if you believe those words coming from a serial killer.

in your wrecked state, you barely register that he's pushing you down to your knees. skin coming in contact with the freezing linoleum floor as you refuse to look at what his hands are doing. yuta has pocketed his knife. the sound of a belt unbuckling in itself added insult to injury.

you stare blankly at his shoes as he shoves his bottoms down enough for his cock to show. if you squint hard enough, you'll see tiny splatters of blood in the shoelaces. whether or not he feels you're unresponsive, he doesn't show. maybe he doesn't care entirely. he takes one of your hands and used it to wrap around himself. he gasps, sharp, followed by a hiss.

you feel it throbbing and it strengthens the disgust you feel. no way you're going to give him the satisfaction of eye contact when you're already forced to blow this psycho.

"eyes up."

you sniffled, vulnerability present in the tone you speak. "i don't want to. please, don't make me."

if words alone aren't enough for you to follow orders, maybe you'll feel more motivated if held at gunpoint. it's unmistakable, the infamous desert eagle you've only seen in your nightmares. the last thing you ever expected is to be on the side where the bullet comes out.

the barrel is freezing as he digs it into the crown of your head. "soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks."

your eyes looked up then. glaring as the tears rolled down your face. "you're a monster," you mutter under your breath. where you got the confidence to fight back is unknown.

"i've heard that before, be more creative next time," he holds your hair tight in one grip, shoving you forward, eye-level to his throbbing dick. "now… suck, baby."

"freeze!"

you knew that voice, you've been hearing it for the last two weeks. "jaehyun–!"

yuta cuts you off, shoving the gun into your mouth. the safety clicking off resonating in the tranquil room. it's deafening, and it makes you immobile.

"hands up. step away from the civilian." whether or not mark is nervous as he points the gun at the serial killer, he's doing a damn good job of hiding it.

yuta sighs, exasperated as he throws his head back. his raised arms came down to tuck himself back in his jeans, and the action made jaehyun's calm exterior crack. "i said, hands up, asshole!"

"chill out, motherfucker. i'm just trying to wear my pants." the serial killer hisses, glaring at jaehyun over his shoulder.

"mark, call back up already. what are you doing?" jaehyun mutters, side-eyeing the young detective whose gun shakes as he holds it up. the taller cop takes a step forward, eyes never leaving the notorious killer as he addresses you curtly. "(name), come here."

just as you plant your palms to the ground to push yourself up, one of yuta's hands shoves you down quick as lightning. "no. she stays here, with me."

jaehyun scowls, takes another step forward. "and what makes you think i'm going to let that happen?"

"i don't think. i know."

there's a constant ring in your ear as the gunshot temporarily renders you deaf. you've shut your eyes in utter fright, hands shooting up to cover your ears but it was too late. you refuse to open your eyes, you didn't want to see a dead body lying before you, even if it belonged to a heartless serial killer.

but when your eyes fluttered open, it's not yuta bleeding out on the ground.

"no, this can't be – jaehyun!"

it was a bullet straight to the head, no one could've survived a shot like that. his eyes are empty as he stares at you, unblinking, stoic. the color is yet to drown away from his milky complexion. but you can't even manipulate yourself into thinking that jaehyun's still alive. not when his eyes are empty, not when he just looks so lifeless.

it couldn't have been yuta who pulled the trigger.

his weapons were on the ground and the shot rang too fast. the sad face slayer couldn't have crouched down for his gun to shoot the cop, it would've taken too much time. and among the three men, there's only another person holding a weapon, and that was –

"great shot, mark."

the detective smiles, but with the blood splattered on his face, it looked cold. "told ya i've been practicing."

yuta hauls you up by the arms, addicted to how frail your body feels as it collapses against him. he's finally got his little soulmate in his arms. and he will never, ever let you go.

the cops lost – you've lost.

yuta, with a sense of victory coursing through his veins, took the liberty of trailing little pecks down your neck as he mutters, "mine, mine, mine!" but you couldn't care less about his display of mocked affection. not when the other person meant to protect you, turned out to be everything you think he wasn't.

mark must've felt the gravity of your stare as he crouches before jaehyun's bleeding body. grabbing the fallen cop's gun, he took it upon himself to empty the magazine. the lopsided grin he sends you broke your resolve more than yuta ever could.

"i'm sorry. it's nothing personal."

jenoluck (c) all rights reserved

[justsasuke]

Unhinged rant time (you’ve been warned):

The real [meta] reason Naruto and Sasuke can never really be compatible as friends or more if that's your thing is because they were literally created to be rivals.

They were made to foil each other and push each other to strength but not in a good way.

Now yeah, the writer did make them sort of friends by resolving their competitiveness with each other by forcing them to help each other (see land of waves arc, esp the tree climbing part onwards) but this doesn't last long into the chunin exams.

As matter of fact it kind of just dies there just like sarutobi (rip I guess).

Everything after that is literally Sasuke feeling inadequate bc Naruto appears to be growing in leaps and bounds (honey, he has a demon fox with unbelievable chakra reserves and special tutelage from a sanin, this isn't your fault) and Naruto desperately needing Sasuke to stick around/validate him/ continue being his rival??? for literally the rest of time and all eternity.

While that might be someone's thing and more power to you but objectively that's a trash dynamic and not good at all.

The way they were created and written isn't some enemies to friends trope or rivals to comrades. It's literally just toxic desperation, comparison, and aggressively threatening to maim someone "for their own good" (not sexy at all)

Just to be clear; this is a commentary on the meta of the story as well as the writing itself and not a commentary on the NaruSasu ship because honestly if I can ship Sasuke and Juugo (who is criminally underdeveloped as a character, and basically doesn't exist as a fleshed out character) and ignore the entire ending for Mental Health Reasons you can do whatever you want with the source material.

Just maybe fix the relationship in your head or make actually healthy HC's or AUs or whatever. Because the canon material specifically in relation to Sasuke and Naruto's “relationship” (I use the term loosely) is not coming from a good place nor is it any real kind of relationship besides as each others’ foils.

Basically my whole point in this post is that from a meta view Naruto and Sasuke were created to be each other’s “forever rivals” and while that does lock them into a sort of cyclical rotation around each other (kinda like the planets) that orbit is not because they’re being drawn to one another but is because they’re actually pushing each other away--much like magnets do when you try to put the wrong sides against each other. Healthy friendships or romantic relationships are formed from the ‘being draw to each other’ sort of orbiting and not the ‘dancing a set distance apart because we actually can’t get away from each other even though we’re pushing each other away’ type of orbiting.

so yeah, I’m not saying Naruto and Sasuke didn’t have any potential to be friends.  They really could have been great. But alas, the writing and characterization and all the meta content of the story screwed it up big time.

[hardskz]

a penny for your thoughts.

pairing — han jisung x female! reader

genre — trope inversion of the soulmate au, college au, enemies to lovers, angst and fluff-ish, smut; oral, possessiveness kink, praise kink, safe word, size kink, first time

synopsis — life isn’t easy when you belong to the 1% of the world population that has a soulmate, know who your soulmate is and happen to be utterly in love with said soulmate’s best friend. alternatively, jisung can hear all of your unfiltered thoughts and has heard enough of your horny fantasies to the point where he wants to throw up, so he takes matters in his own hands. 

note — i think i’m gonna cry this work is my 11k word BABY i’ve never been THIS invested over a fic. this is purely self-indulgent and an emotional rollercoaster ride if you ask me. this fic is all over the place it’s chaotic and i apologize in advance for many italics you are welcome i hope you CRY and SUFFER with me because completing this bitch was a midlife crisis in itself. that being said, i appreciate any form of constructive criticism so pls go ahead and rip my baby apart sdkjl

“You’re staring again,” Hyunjin notes. Seungmin and Jeongin stifle a burst of laughter while Felix, whose head is resting on Hyunjin’s lap, sends you a look that resembles Candace from Phineas and Ferb whenever she finds her brothers creating some whacky futuristic shit, laughs like a madman and then resumes to call her mother with an ear-splitting MOOOM! because she’s so certain that her brothers are busted this time.

“Am not,” you huff as you tear your eyes away from the guy just sitting a little bit farther away from you, basking in the warm glow of the sun. Today he’s sitting in the perfect angle, giving you the best view on his side profile. His signature cap is perched right on top of his head but even then, you can see how his eyes brighten up and how the corners of his lips tug upwards as he laughs at his friend’s joke.

“You’re a worse case than the Mary Sue protagonist of every romance anime ever.” Seungmin snorts before he playfully nudges your side with his shoe. “Just say you want Seo Changbin to bang you and go.”

“Hey! We have a child present!” Hyunjin chastises, to which Jeongin rolls his eyes.

“I’m not a child. We’re all in fucking college.”

“Fine, not a child then. The baby has been corrupted! Don’t swear, it sounds so wrong coming from you!”

“Shut up. It’s called freedom of speech!”

“It’s ‘shut up Hyung’ to you!”

Felix groans in distress and is probably rethinking his life choices. Seriously, what does Felix, resident hopeless romantic, see in Hyunjin? Sure, he’s good-looking and a great friend when he’s not bitching around or hovering over the nearest trash can after taking too many shots. But a romantic? Please, Hyunjin can’t even eat without making a mess out of his shirt.

“I don’t want him to bang me,” you mutter and receive a collective ‘yeah sure’ look. “Fine, I don’t want him to bang me only. He’s nice,” you retort before your eyes flit back to him for a millisecond. By now, Changbin has put his hands on the grass and is leaning back, enjoying the sunlight while listening halfheartedly to the other guy blabbering.

“And hot. We get it. Now get dicked,” Seungmin deadpans, earning flabbergasted looks from everyone and a smack from Hyunjin.

“Show a little more empathy, you dickwad. She’s whipped.”

“Anyway—“ Felix sits up, earning a pout from Hyunjin but he blatantly ignores it, and directs the conversation back to the previous topic before the other two bump heads, “(y/n), you have his number. You’re not strangers, so why don’t you just make a move?”

You glance at him with horror in your eyes. “What do you expect me to do? Ring him up and ask him to hang out with me because I find him cute?”

“Uh, duh? Last time I checked, that’s how you ask someone out.”

“Absolutely not.”

“New idea.” Seungmin butts in. “Why don’t you ask Han Jisung—“

“No.”

“Agreed.” Hyunjin shoots you a nod of approval before Seungmin can start yet another interrogation about your bitter hatred towards Jisung. Jisung, who happens to be said friend of Changbin that is laughing beside him right now. “He must think he’s so much better than us because he’s hanging out with the senior geniuses of the music production major. Then again, Seo Changbin and Bang Chan are on a different level than us commoners.”

“Speaking of Chan,” you quickly say to steer the conversation away from the personification of everything you hate. “Where is he? It’s so weird seeing the trio incomplete.”

This time, Jeongin chimes in. “Haven’t you heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Chan and that one language major — you know, the one who collapsed a while back?” When all he’s met with are clueless faces, Jeongin sighs. “Seriously, you guys should keep up with campus news. I swear, everyone and their mothers already know by now. But anyway, they’re soulmates. It’s also the reason why Chan has been pulled out of the boxing team until the end of the semester and had to cancel their training camp as soon as she broke down.”

Felix does a double-take. “But Chan’s the ace of the boxing club!”

“It is what it is.” Jeongin stretches his legs out, shrugging. “What else is to expect when you have the proximity link and need to be around your soulmate within a certain distance unless you want death?”

“Poor guy. Must be a smack in the face for him, now that he’s got a soulmate and happens to have the worst link one could have.” Seungmin says.

“The tattoos are worse though.” Hyunjin fires back. “I mean, you’re literally born with a tattoo of your soulmate’s name and then grow up knowing that you have one? And even if you never meet them, you won’t have better chances with others if you want some romance. Who in their right mind wants to have a lover who’s got someone else’s name tattooed on them since birth?”

“No one.” You chuckle. “Absolutely no one.”

In another lifetime, another universe, you and Jisung would probably be on better terms. He’s sunshine on legs and looks decent from an objective point of view.

In another lifetime, another universe, you’d like to believe you’re childhood friends and have been neighbors ever since your first shit in your diapers. Perhaps you would be clowned from being inseparable once in a while, but you’d go with it and then shrug it off as if it was nothing.

In another lifetime, another universe, you’d like to believe that being soulmates doesn’t equal the downfall of two people. Sure, the fact that people are bound to each other and the danger of growing too dependent on that person remains, but it probably won’t be so frowned upon. Probably. Hopefully.

However, as much as you want to twist it, another lifetime is not this lifetime, the reality.

In reality, you and Jisung are only neighbors because the universe has some kind of inexplicable hatred towards you. Seriously, you must’ve done something wrong in your previous life to be punished in this one. And because the universe has sadistic tendencies and loves to make you suffer, the laws of the universe are just as equally fucked up.

The concept of soulmates is a lot of things, but most of all, it’s a mystery. There are endless possibilities for soulmate links, not all of them discovered. And unlike popular belief, soulmates do not have to necessarily share the same link. So voilà, even more fuckery from the universe.

There’s only one reason that justifies your wholehearted, unfiltered hatred towards Han Jisung. Well, only one reason that seems justified in this lifetime.

The tattoo is simple; just fine black characters under your collarbone that are nicely hidden under high-cut shirts.

But the fact that it’s his name tattooed on you since birth remains.

“Let me crash here for the night.”

“No.”

“Let me crash here for the night, please.”

“My answer is still no.”

The exasperation is plastered on Jisung’s face as he tries to keep his temper in check. Truth be told, it’s damn satisfying seeing him wanting to rip your head off but refraining to do so. Perhaps you’re enjoying this more than you expected at one o’clock in the morning. For the past five minutes, Jisung has been asking you to let him stay over for the night. You’d save him out of his misery and help a neighbor out who locked himself out of his apartment at this hour — well, if he wasn’t Han Jisung.

By now, he’s growing more impatient with every further rejection. “Oh come on, all my friends live on the other side of town and you can’t expect me to ask the old grandma next door! At this rate, I’m gonna freeze to death overnight!”

“Then go break a window or something,” you deadpan, ignoring the dramatic hand gestures he’s making to accentuate his words.

“The fuck? I’m not going to break into my own place.”

Not wanting to draw out the pointless conversation any longer, you’re about to slam the door shut when he blocks your action with his foot. “C’mon, just this one night. Please.”

He’s not budging anytime soon. His bullheadedness reminds you of Seungmin, who always tries to get Hyunjin wasted whenever you attend those Greek frat parties. Seungmin, who always succeeds in getting Hyunjin wasted, followed by Hyunjin hugging a bucket for the next few hours as he tries to get over the hangover. With a defeated sigh, you gesture Jisung to come inside and don’t wait for him until he’s taken his shoes off at the entryway.

“Look, I know you don’t like me—“

“Well, ‘don’t like’ is putting it very lightly—” you scoff once he’s caught up to you in the living room. It’s not exactly spacious; the couch takes up most of the room and college assignments are spread all over the minuscule coffee table.

“You could at least treat me like a decent human being.”

That statement is enough to get your ears flaming. You whip your head in his direction, voice getting louder. “How can I when your existence is making my life worse than it already is! And I mean it literally! Just seeing your name whenever I look at myself through the mirror sickens me!”

“Stop acting like you’re the only victim here.” Jisung snaps back in the same manner. If there was a little bit of etiquette in the first place, it has all vanished now. “I’m not having it easier when all I hear from you is the dozen ways you want Changbin to fuck you dumb!”

You freeze.

“Cat got your tongue? It’s already bad enough that you have those kinds of thoughts about my best friend every single day.”

“But I thought— y-you had the proximity link?!” This has to be a joke. A very bad one at that. His proximity link is the very sole reason why you lived next to him. His soulmate link is the only reason why you’ve been stuck together like glue since you could walk.

Jisung taps his foot impatiently, running his hand through his hair. “That’s what I thought too until I started hearing things that nobody said around me. First, it was just a few thoughts every other day, but now you’re like an annoying radio that I can’t switch off.”

“Why didn’t you tell me then? I would’ve—“

“Stopped fantasizing about Changbin’s dick? And then you would’ve jumped to the next person. I don’t care if you like him or not, it’s none of my business. Changbin’s hot, anyone with eyes can tell. Besides, it’s not like you have a chance anyway…”

You feel your blood boiling at his underlying message and cross your arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jisung doesn’t bat an eyelash and says in a mocking tone as if stating the obvious. “No doubt that Changbin will make you feel good. But could you return the favor?”

That’s a low blow. Even for Jisung, that’s a low blow.

“I get that you’ve got a dirty mind. But those are just fantasies. Could you really execute them just the way you had in your head? You don’t even have experience in the first place.”

“If I sucked you off right now, you wouldn’t even be able to speak properly!” God knows what went over you when you countered. At this point, rage has taken over your brain and you don’t even realize what you just said right away. Not that it matters anyway; all you see is red.

Jisung just raises a brow, clearly unimpressed by your outburst. “Prove it,” he challenges casually and then flops himself onto the couch, legs spread wide. It’s an open invitation. “Go ahead, make me see reason with your oh so mind-blowing skills.”

The only thing you’re able to do physically is gape at him. He is joking, right? As if he actually means it—

“I knew it. Shameless in your head but too flustered to say it out loud, let alone following up with your bold statements.”

That seals the deal. You’re fuelled by anger and the desire to prove him wrong as you drop on your knees and are on eye level with his crotch. However, your spirit dissolves the longer you silently stare and realize that you have no fucking clue on what to do. Jisung is painfully aware of that too.

“I’m more terrified than turned on seeing your angry face.” He lets out an exasperated sigh before he pulls you up and directs you to sit on his lap. “Obviously it’s not working when neither of us is in the mood. You gotta get in the mood first,” he mutters, hands settling on your hips.

The look in his eyes is more composed now, but you can tell he’s being observant. As if you have clues written all over your face, he keeps you under his stern gaze. Then his eyes droop lower to your lips and he slowly leans forward.

Not even a second later, you firmly plant your hands on his shoulder and push him back. “No lips.”

If Jisung is judgemental about your sudden stunt, he doesn’t comment on it. “Anything else, your royal majesty?”

You’re too tired to react to his mockery and roll your eyes. “No marks.”

“I can work with that,” he mumbles more to himself rather to you. Then he leans forward again and buries his face in the crook of your neck. Surprised by his actions and new to the unfamiliar sensation, you tense up. Jisung seems to take notice of that too.

“Relax,” he orders, rubbing circles on your hips to help you loosen up.

Well, that’s easier said than done. It’s already bad enough that you’re gradually exposing yourself as the complete amateur you are, and out of all people who could’ve been the first to do any form of sexual advances on you, it just had to be Jisung. Perhaps you shouldn’t have rejected that one kid in high school who was the only one who ever had a crush on you. Even if that kid wasn’t your type and not a serious commitment anyway, maybe you would’ve at least some sort of experience with dick.

“A-ah—“ your breath hitches when he nips on the patch below your earlobe. He smiles against your skin as if he just made some scientific discovery and swipes his tongue on the same spot, eager to make you squirm. Not wanting to slip up anymore, you clamp your mouth shut with a hand.

“Let me hear you, baby. Just relax, I got you.” When the fuck did his voice start to sound lower and raspier? Where did ‘baby’ come from? All rationality and resistance leave your body when he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him.

The cologne of musk lingers strong on him, almost intoxicating even, and you can’t form a cohesive thought anymore. The only things you are painfully aware of are an arm forcing your chest flush against his and his hot breath all over your neck.

You’re so far gone that you fail to notice that you’ve started grinding on his lap. Jisung moans softly into your neck as he encourages you to move with his hands.

“On your knees, baby,” he whispers after a while. A rush of disappointment runs through your veins once he detaches his lips from you and slides you off his lap, but all of that is forgotten once you see the prominent bulge in his pants.

Right. There’s a reason why you ended up in this predicament in the first place.

Jisung urges you to touch him with a simple nudge. “C’mon, baby. Take it off.”

You don’t waste time discarding his sweatpants. Just when you’re about to tug his underwear off, you notice the wet patch on the fabric. A surge of mischief washes over you as you boldly cupped his hard-on over his boxers, causing an obscenely loud moan from him.

He flinches, definitely not expecting that brashness from you, and throws his head back. “S-stop teasing me already and take that goddamn thing off or God help me what I’m going to do if you push my buttons.”

That. That was a threat. That dealt much more damage to you than you like to admit.

As much as you want to watch him break and see if he’d make his threats come true, you decide against your feelings and hook your fingers under the waistband and tug the fabric down in one swift motion. A groan leaves Jisung as his cock, fully hard and leaking precum, is exposed to the cold air. He’s certainly above average; on the longer side probably, and you’re conflicted on whether to think fuck, I want him in my mouth right now or fuck, how on earth is that supposed to fit into my mouth?!

You don’t get far with your inner conflict when a hand grabs a fistful of your hair and slowly urges you closer. The next thing you know, something is tapping your lips and before you fully register it, the tip of Jisung’s cock lies heavy on your tongue.

You carefully look up and meet Jisung’s hooded eyes. His shirt has ridden up a bit and flashes just a little bit of his toned stomach. That’s just enough of an indicator to see that Jisung is holding himself back, in case his irregular breathing hasn’t been a dead giveaway.

Jisung opens his mouth, about to say something, when you give an experimental suck on his dick. “Do something— f-fuck, a little more, baby.”

That’s enough to build your confidence up. You slowly take in more of his dick, sucking carefully and making sure to cover your teeth. The rest that doesn’t fit in your mouth is barely covered with your hands, and you messily try to coordinate your hands, switching between rubbing the base of his dick to cupping his balls.

“Mmh, use more pressure,” Jisung whispers, not trusting the stability of his voice when you fondle with his balls. A groan leaves him when you suck harder on his cock and switch back to swirling your tongue around. For a total beginner, you are holding yourself up better than he expected. Fuck.

“Focus on the tip fir— hhh- aa-ah...” His brain blacks out for a moment when you swirl your tongue around his tip and dare an experimental hum, the vibrations going straight down to his dick. The grip on your hair loosens, but it’s still firm enough to experience a sharp tug. “You’re doing good baby. So good.”

The combination of his sounds, the decent taste of precum on your tongue and the way his adam’s apple bops is enough to send you into sensory overload. You notice the way Jisung tenses his thighs, as to keep them still. You’re about to pull out completely to prevent your drool from getting on your face. However, before you get the chance to complain, he forces his length back on you that it grazes the back of your throat, nearly making you choke.

“Fuck, I— I’m gonna— s-soon—“ he hisses and you take it as a sign to speed up. At this point, your jaw hurts and a mixture of drool and precum drips down your chin. It’s borderline disgusting if you think about it, but the delectable sounds leaving Jisung compensates for it.

He sharply tugs on your hair, ordering you to pull off, but you slap his hand away. “I’m going to spill in your mouth if you don’t pull off right now—“ Jisung chokes on his words when you interrupt him with a hum as if to say so what? It doesn’t help that you’re looking up at him with teary eyes and a lot of conviction, even though you’re visibly struggling to keep half of his dick in your mouth.

When he cums, it’s accompanied but drawn out moans, and you forcing yourself to swallow the horrible texture. It’s not horrible per se, but you’d gladly refuse to swallow a second time if you were given the choice.

Jisung looks down at you with flushed cheeks and is about to wipe off the drool or cum or whatever liquid is staining your bottom lip, but you quickly block his hand. “I’ll clean up by myself.”

For a minuscule second, he looks defeated; he looks borderline disappointed, but before you can pinpoint his feelings for sure, his expression changes. “But what about you?” he asks, eyes raking down your body and stopping at the waistband of your pants.

“I’ll deal with it on my own.” You shrug, avoiding his eyes. All of sudden, you find it hard to breathe in the room as the realization settles into your brain. You just sucked off Jisung. Jisung, out of all fucking people.

“You sure?” Your eyes flit to him who looks like he’s been observing you the entire time. His breathing has calmed down, his lips look a little bit plumper than before and his hair sticks out in all different directions. Looking at his current state makes you feel sick, and your undying hatred for him starts growing again. It’s your fault that he looks so fucked out and—

Why the fuck did you even do that?

“Yes. Now stop asking before I change my mind and kick you out.”

Before he can have the last word, you turn on your heels and rush into your bedroom, ignoring the fact that your underwear is practically drenched.

You wake up to the smell of pancakes emerging from the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making breakfast?” Jisung throws you a questioning look and then plates the last batch of pancakes from the pan. “It’s the least I can do after you were friendly enough to let me crash on the couch.”

Your eyes wander to the countertop to the two plates stacked with pancakes. Jisung finishes up the second plate and hands it out to you.

You stare dumbly at the plate. It’s too early for your brain to mouth filter to work, so the first thing you spit out is, “How do I know you didn’t poison it?”

“Are you fucking serious—“ Jisung squeezes his eyes shut, mutters something inaudible under his breath before he puts on the fakest smile he can muster. “I can take a bite if you really insist.”

“Give me that plate.” You point to the other plate on the counter. Presentation-wise, it looks the same as the one Jisung is offering you, minus the visible steam.

“There. Wanna switch again or can I finally eat?” he scoffs when you walk past him to get cutlery and sit at the dining table; it’s essentially a round wooden table where one of the legs is about to break. Two plates and a pitcher at most take up the entire surface. You really should consider buying a new table, but you have better things to spend on rather than that.

From your peripheral vision, you see Jisung rolling his eyes. Perhaps you were making an entire unnecessary circus, critically cutting through the pancake and inspecting each and every side before stuffing it in your mouth. But again, in your defense, it’s too early in the morning to show basic etiquette towards him out of all people.

You have to admit that visually, the pancakes look good. What you didn’t expect were the pancakes to taste just how they look. It looks like you couldn’t contain your surprise in you, judging by the amused smirk that finds its way onto Jisung’s face as he claims the chair across from you.

“As if you could actually cook,” you splutter because there’s no fucking way you are giving him that satisfaction of the day.

However, it seems to bemuse him even more. “You literally eat this every day and know the recipe by heart. With the excessive number of times you recite the ingredients a day, obviously, something got stuck in my brain,” he explains while cutting through his own portion.

The rest of breakfast is spent in silence. You both finish at the same time and while you’re washing the dishes, he’s stayed put in the chair, mindlessly checking something on his phone.

“You didn’t have to cook, you know. You could’ve just left.” you start. It’s already awkward enough that he’s still here. Bloody hell, you should’ve just waited with the plates and ushered him out of your place instead of just getting away as fast as possible from the table. Now that you think about it, this was probably the only time you two were somewhat amicable at such proximity. (Even if you didn’t talk at all. Still, it’s progress.)

He drops his phone on the table with a soft ‘bang’. “It’s the least I could do. Besides, I was starving too.”

“In other words, you’re taking advantage of my fridge?”

“Exactly.”

Just as you’re drying your hands, he’s about to leave. “I’ll get going, lecture’s starting in a few. And, uh, thanks for letting me stay here.”

You just shoot him a weird look. “You already thanked me once. How often do you wanna repeat yourself?”

Jisung rolls his eyes. “Fine, next time I’ll just leave without a word then.”

It’s when he’s finally out of the door that his last words sink in.

“Yo, I have pics of sweaty Changbin in a jersey. How much do you wanna pay for those gems?”

You nearly choke on air. “What the fuck?” Really, that’s the only appropriate reaction.

“Hyunjin, this needs more context.” Felix looks like he’s seriously second-guessing his taste in men before shaking it off with a sigh and elaborates. “He’s been trying to find out some scoop about Chan for the campus blog and caught him in his angry boxer mode and Changbin was also there assisting him. Hey, did you know that Chan doesn’t tape his hands before punching the bag? Fuck, that’s so intimidating but so hot at the same time—“

“Yah! I’m your boyfriend! How can you say that in front of me?!”

Changbin. Changbin in a jersey. Changbin in a jersey and drenched in sweat. And Hyunjin seriously has HQ pictures of that Changbin.

It really, absolutely shouldn’t have been the first thing that crossed your mind, but the idea of that Changbin — bonus if he still has anger pent up in him — barging into your place and instantly throwing you on the bed—

“I’m not a perverted creep who’s gonna buy pictures of him that he doesn’t even know exist. Besides, isn’t that a violation of his rights? He never consented to those pics. This is college, you’re only working for the campus blog, not fucking Dispatch.” you deadpan.

“So you don’t even want to take a sneak peek at a picture?”

“No.”

You barely stepped a foot into your apartment when Jisung storms out of his own place and stops in front of you. “You fucking liar.”

“Excuse me? What the— hmph!”

The next thing you know, Jisung forces his way into your hallway, slams the door shut and crowds you against it. His face is invading your personal space, eyes enraged and jaw locked. Even though his anger is far from justified as you haven’t glanced at him ever since he stayed over, a tiny part of you believes that you pissed him off for good. It's not the first time you witness him angry. However, it's the first time you witness him look as if someone murdered his family and was trying to get revenge.

“I thought you took care of it yourself!”

“Took care of what?”

“Did you already forget that I can read your mind?!”

You scrunch your nose, trying to connect the dots in his words. It doesn't take long for you to realize that there’s no point in trying. A frustrated groan leaves you. “Why are you getting so riled up? I just breathed and you stormed into my place!”

“‘Bullshit. You weren’t just breathing,” he snaps, and you flinch when his hand lands a few inches beside your face with a loud pang. “You were thinking of Changbin again! And I mean that in the thousand sex positions and locations you want him to bang you kind of thinking! And also—“

“Also what?”

“I know you’ve been pent up for days. Seriously, why don’t you just get off like every other sane human being?”

His brutal delivery leaves you flabbergasted. How the fuck does he know that? No. No. No. He doesn’t know. He can’t. Just because he can read your mind doesn’t mean that you didn’t pleasure yourself after giving him that blowjob. Jisung’s probably bluffing — he has to be bluffing.

“W-why should I answer you?” you stutter. Suddenly the walls look much more interesting. When was the last time you painted the walls? Maybe it’s time to switch things up—

“Are you really about to get all cocky with me? Give me a break.” Jisung chews on his bottom lip after little deliberation. “You wanna know why? Because one of my best friends is going through a hard time that can utterly destroy his entire future thanks to the fucking universe! If that isn’t stressful as it is, I also see and hear all kinds of things you want Changbin to do to you. And your fantasies are also affecting me.”

You stare at him as if he sprouted eight new legs. “So you’ve also been…?”

“Sexually frustrated? Fuck yes. And it’s all your fault. So take responsibility and do something against it before I do.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“So what if I am?”

A cold shiver runs down your spine once you meet his stone-cold gaze. Frustration is displayed all over his features, from his labored breaths to the raised brow. He’s not playing mind games this time, he’s actually frustrated.

There are a billion red flags, a billion blinking signs saying NO DON’T YOU EVEN THINK OF DOING THIS! DON’T BE A FUCKING IDIOT in your mind. There are so many countless reasons why you should listen to your head, but the way Jisung is lusting after you is terrifyingly attractive.

You don’t trust your voice to respond verbally. Instead, you look down at your trembling hand and tug at the hem of his shirt. It’s just then when you also realize that your thighs are clenched. Fuck.

Jisung takes the hint. In the blink of an eye, he’s yanking you to your room, kicks the door shut with a loud ‘thud’, and manhandles you on the bed. You’re too stunned to react, and gulp when he hovers over you and strips off his jacket, leaving him in a white shirt that doesn’t hide his toned arms.

“Use the color system, alright? Green when everything is alright, yellow when you want me to slow down, and red when you want me to stop for good?” he asks.

“I know what the color system is,” you mutter, tearing your eyes away from him.

“That’s not an answer to my question.” he presses.

“Fine, color system it is. There! Happy? Now get on with it—“

Jisung pins your wrists above your head vigorously. “You don’t call the shots here. I do.”

Your stomach swoops. You really should’ve listened to your brain. This Jisung isn’t comparable with the Jisung you sucked off a few days ago. That Jisung was cocky — he’s always cocky, what are you even saying — but he still gave you room to breathe. This Jisung is downright scary.

“Good thing for you, I know exactly what you want me to do—” he starts sinisterly as his thigh settles firmly between your legs, pressing up against your clothed core. You suddenly regret wearing a skirt. “—and trust me baby, even if I couldn’t read your mind, I would do all those things because that’s what I plan on doing to you regardless.”

The look he gives you should be illegal. He shouldn’t be in the position to look down at you, as if he’s the king and has free reign over the consequences you are about to bear. Your head suddenly feels dizzy, and it’s way too hot in the room. It’s as if your bedroom has morphed into some vacuum as you’re desperately trying to breathe. Your system ceases to function once he presses his thigh even harder on your cunt, and all you manage to make is a pathetic whimper.

A menacing grin makes its way to his face. He’s clearly thriving on this ego-boost and continues to grind his thigh on you until your hips start to sway along. It seems like you found your voice again once he leans down and nibbles on your neck. Your moans are barely audible at first, but they slowly turn into drawn out mewls and labored breaths.

Your eyes snap open when he suddenly retreats his thigh and holds your hip in a vice grip, stopping you from moving. “W-what the fuck? Why did you stop?”

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Huh?” You squint at him. “But you can read my mind!”

“I want you to say it out loud.”

There’s no way in the universe that you’ll do that. You’ll gladly wipe off that shit-eating grin out of his face whether he likes it or not, but with his hold on your wrists, that is deemed impossible.

You should say something out loud though. Yellow. That would save you from the humiliation. You could regain at least an ounce of control, not feel so pathetic anymore. It’s a simple word, just two syllables, six letters. The tables can be turned to your advantage. It’s easy.

You don’t.

“You’re embarrassed, aren’t you? You can’t say all those filthy thoughts in your head out loud because you’re ashamed, huh? Not when you love feeling so powerless, subject to anything I do to you. Face it baby, just admit that you’re a needy little bitch who wants to get off on my fingers so bad, and I’ll give you what you want,” Jisung growls in between hot, wet kisses he leaves on your neck.

“I—“ you whimper after some difficulties, “I’m your needy little bitch w-who wants to get off on your fingers.”

Jisung’s head pipes up, his face just hovering a couple of inches away from yours. With that little distance between you, you know it’s not a trick of the light and that his eyes are blown up with hunger, hunger, and more hunger. "Not just any bitch, but mine? Do you like it when I call you mine?"

You nod. From there on, it’s a chain reaction.

He wastes no time slipping his fingers past your panties, mindlessly trailing along your folds. You throw your head back in pleasure, bucking your hips into his touch. A cry leaves you the moment he slips a finger inside you, his thumb simultaneously flicking your clit. It’s sensory overload, rendering your rationality to a standstill.

Your utter downfall is marked once Jisung adds a second finger, never slowing down. He groans at the way you clench around him like a maniac, and the sounds he makes send jolts all over your body. You’re writhing under his grasp at this point, overstimulated by everything yet at the same time, you feel your arousal slowly fading.

“Does my baby feel good? Are you close?” Jisung asks, nipping on your earlobe.

“I don’t know,” you whisper.

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t know’?”

The pit in your stomach grows. You’ve never experienced claustrophobia, but right now, it’s like everything’s suffocating you. “A-as in I don’t fucking know!” you exclaim shakily.

Jisung stops his movements. The weight on your wrists is lifted, and he looks at you, face unreadable. “(y/n), color. What’s your color?”

“Green. It’s just...” your trail off, avoiding his eyes.

“Just...?”

“I’ve never come before,” you confess in defeat. You really can’t believe that Jisung out of all people is the one to make the call of judgment. “I mean it! I’ve tried getting myself off but I never managed to... so cut me some fucking slack because I’m trying my best here and am still new to everything!”

Jisung stays silent. He stares at you in… confusion? disbelief? You really have no clue how to read his expression. Something negative for sure, though. He’s Satan’s spawn, for fuck’s sake. He’s probably thinking twice about going down on you, thinking about the gravity of a mistake he’s dealing with this time. He just has no clue how to articulate his irritation—

“You’re so cute, fucking hell,” he whispers.

You do a double-take. What? What did he say?

A small chuckle escapes his lips. As if he doesn’t mind. Wait. He doesn’t mind. “I’ll take good care of you. Trust me on this,” he says.

“That’s a little late coming from you, your fingers are literally up my vagi— h-ha-aah—“

“Just shut up and let me do the work.” Jisung rolls his eyes as he works you up again, fingers moving at a slower pace this time. Within minutes, he’s reduced you into a panting, stuttering mess. “You look so tiny and helpless underneath me. How adorable,” he coos, to which you just whine.

“Yeah? You like it when I call you tiny? Like it when your tight cunt already feels stuffed with just two fingers? Maybe we should stretch it to a third one, think you can handle that?” he presses on. That’s when he rams his fingers into a particular spot, making you arch your back. A knowing smile makes its way onto his lips. “Found it.”

“N-no, fuck— t-too much—” you babble, but he continues to abuse your sweet spot without remorse.

An unfamiliar pressure builds up in your abdomen, threatening to burst. Your whines grow louder, breaths shallower. You squeeze your eyes shut as you thrust your hips into his hand, desperate for more friction. “Jisung, I think I’m gonna—”

“Oh no, not like this,” he growls. “Keep your eyes open. I want you to look at me when you cum. So you’ll remember that it was me who made you cum for the first time. It’s me who’s making you feel good.”

That is easier said than done. You manage to open your eyes, though with a lot of difficulties. Scratch that, your eyes are barely open. Jisung is a blurry image, and you’re unable to register everything he says, the sound of his fingers squelching in your heat blaring in your ears.

You deem it fucking impossible to keep your eyes open when your orgasm hits you hard, body spasming from the sensation. But you keep on trying, keep forcing to set your eyes on him.

It’s all worth it though when the reward you get is a proud smile on his face, as well as streams of praises coming from his mouth.

It’s a continuous pattern that goes as follows:

1. You spend your days glued to your friends.

2. At least one of them (usually, it’s Seungmin) preaches how you should get your shit together and ask Changbin out.

3. Somehow, Changbin manages to leave a strong presence in your fantasies and you end up daydreaming about a scenario that stars him, you and a bed (if you’re feeling more daring, any other kind of surface or object he could pound you into.)

4. Jisung notices and forces the horniness out of your system.

5. You tell yourself that it’s the last time Jisung has such control over you.

And then the cycle repeats.

But here’s the thing: you find yourself doing no. 5 you with less conviction the more it happens. No. 5 is a formality at this point. You don’t know when you went the wrong path, but are you really in a position to complain? Jisung is good with you, he’s good with his fingers, even better with his mouth.

But then there’s this side of Jisung after he’s ruined you. He knows what you want to eat after you’re all cleaned up, knows what show you want to watch, knows if you want to just drop dead in bed or need someone to force you to finish your uni assignments. In short: Jisung is good. If you ever said that out loud and someone caught wind of it, they might assume that you liked him.

But Changbin. You like Changbin. You like Changbin you like Changbin you like Changbin—

You like Changbin, right?

“You’ve been looking at me as if I had the word CLOWN written over my forehead. Do I have something on my face or what?” you cross your arms and are met with your friends quickly averting their eyes from you.

Felix is the first one to break the silence. “Is that a new dress?”

“Not really. I recently found it when I cleared out my closet and decided to give it one more try. Why—“ you pause, and your expression turns grim once it dawns on you. “I look ridiculous in this, don’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“No!”

“You look like a clown.”

“Seungmin-Hyung, did you really just???”

If your crippling self-esteem hadn’t reached its all-time low before, then it definitely did now. “Geez, thanks,” you deadpan.

Jeongin is panicking, trying to provide some damage control as Felix snaps at Hyunjin and Seungmin. “Nobody cares about your two cents!”

“Well, but she asked for our opinion!”

“Nobody cares about your honest two cents!”

“Let’s just have lunch at the burger place and talk about this later, Hyung!”

You’re still dazed, chuckling dryly like those cartoon characters usually do when their soul leaves their body after someone dragged them. The entire situation is downright sad to witness. Is this a sign that your period is coming soon? That’s it! That probably explains why you’re acting so uncharacteristically sensitive today—

“The dress suits you, (y/n). You should wear it more often,” Changbin says.

“Hah?” you flinch and you’re sure your soul actually left your body when you turn to face Changbin smiling genuinely at you. Out of your periphery, you see Jisung and Chan behind him, but that’s not the point.

What? The? Fuck? Did he really just? Did Changbin just… compliment you?

You don’t realize how long you’ve dumbly stared at him until Jeongin nudges you. “Uhhhh, thanks!” you squeak out, cringing at how your voice just went up by an octave. You can feel Jeongin facepalming internally at your response, but you don’t blame him; you’d most likely do the same.

Changbin just smiles before he turns away to get to his next class, tugging Jisung and Chan with him.

Nevermind. Wearing this dress was the best decision you’ve made in your entire college career. The way you suddenly beam almost gives Felix whiplash — it’s obvious in the way he stares at you as if he ended up watching a comedy instead of the melodrama he was expecting. Hyunjin seems just as flabberghasted, Jeongin is still cringing from the secondhand embarrassment, and Seungmin just grins.

“Ah, so lover boy is the reason, I see.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Oh my god, just shut up, Seungmin.”

Jisung is eating you out with such fervor that has you sobbing and thrashing around. He’s merciless in every literal sense, keeping your hips planted on the couch with his hands to the point where veins are bulging out, and lapping up your juices with his tongue, continuing even though you already came. He only pulls away, lips glistening in your release, once you tug on his hair despite his orders to not do that.

“Already spent now? But baby, we just started.” he pouts. “Or is it because it’s me? Would you defy if Changbin was the one eating you out?”

You stare at him with blown out eyes. Why the fuck is he bringing up Changbin now? The words hang heavy in your throat and are threatening to burst, but the death stare he delivers stops you from doing so.

Something’s not right.

“Don’t tell me... you’re wet again because I just mentioned Changbin. Changbin this, Changbin that, huh? It’s always only Changbin, Changbin, Changbin. And I thought I was doing you good all along,” he rages, making you flinch. He can be terrifying when he wants to be, but this time, he seems completely out of it. “You know what? I’m fucking done with holding back. You’re mine, got it?”

With that, he dives back into your cunt, sucking harshly on your clit as he slides a finger in you. You try to pry him off, but his weight is restraining you to the sofa.

“Jisung, it hurts— ouch—“ Panic starts to rise in you when he finally detaches himself from your nub, but instead, moves down to your thighs and starts sucking on the skin with a force much harder than you’re used from him. “What are you doing? S-stop—!”

“You’re mine, you’re supposed to be mine. I am literally written on your skin. So why can’t you just wish to be with me? Do I have to mark you up so that you’ll finally get it?”

It hurts. It hurts. Once you feel teeth on your skin, you burst into tears. “Red, Jisung, red!”

As if it was the spell to break the cast, Jisung finally snaps out of it. His features break once his eyes meet yours. Regret sticks onto him like a second skin, and he slightly moves his hand in an attempt to reach out to you. Your muscles react faster though, and you instinctively pull your legs towards yourself and shy away from him. The way his face drops by another layer of remorse tugs at your heartstrings, but the impending fear overpowers everything else you’re feeling.

“What’s going on? What went over you?” you ask.

Jisung’s breath is shaky. He feverishly opens his mouth several times, but no sound is coming out. He’s struggling to find the right words, maybe trying to find a somewhat reasonable justification for his behavior. In the end, he lets out a defeated sigh. “I can’t do this anymore without having feelings—” his voice is weak and vulnerable and you’ve never witnessed him break down like this before, “—I like you. I like you the way you like Changbin. I just...”

Silence.

“Leave,” you whisper, but in this silence, your voice rings out loud and clear. This is… too much weight for your heart to carry.

Jisung complies. He grabs his belongings from the floor, slips on his shirt, and leaves with his head hung low. His footsteps grow more and more distant, but then he stops.

“Are you really in love with Changbin?” His voice cracks.

You don’t muster up the courage to face him. “Just read my mind.”

It’s silent again. Too overwhelming. You’re waiting for yet another outburst of him, waiting for his “I want you to say it out loud”, because that’s how the conversation always goes.

The last thing you hear is the front door falling in its lock with a soft click.

You like Changbin. You like Changbin you like Changbin you like Changbin you like—

You like him, right?

Things have changed.

You and Jisung haven’t crossed paths ever since, not even passed each other by in the hallways. It’s weird since you’ve grown used to seeing him every day outside of your apartment complex. You’ve never really acknowledged each other’s presence with a wave or something in the sorts; it was just a second where your eyes met, and then your days went on.

That being said, you run into Changbin quite frequently. If you ever exchanged words, it’s nothing more than friendly small talk and the one or other compliment about his music. Talking to Changbin is nice; he makes you smile.

You know a little bit more about Changbin now, like his favorite ice cream flavor or the fact that he has a pokemon plushie named Gyu. It’s cute, and you chuckle when you think about how you’d pay good money for that information a few weeks ago.

Changbin is nice, and there’s nothing more to the story.

The chaotic quartett you call your friends however, doesn’t seem to buy it. They are loud and nosey and have eyes, so it was set in stone that they’d tease you about it sooner or later. It’s all fun and games, and you played along with it at first, because that’s how you guys are. But as time went on, when the banter became so repetitive and blown out of proportion to the point where they have made clowning you about your small interactions with Changbin the pinnacle of their entertainment, you’ve begun to be fed up by it.

“Will you finally stop bringing him up in an indecent manner every single lunch break? Or even better, stop bringing him up altogether?” You snap, which shocks everyone at the table because you never snap.

Nobody has time to react as you quickly stomp away to grab some fresh air. You mutter out every curse under the sun, not intending to let your anger take over you this much. You’ve only made it past the door when Felix catches up to you, placing a hand over your shoulder.

“(y/n), what’s the matter? Clearly, something’s bothering you. And I know it’s not because of just Seungmin.” Concern is woven in his smooth voice.

You have to admit, it was a smart and calculated move from your friends to send Felix your way. He’s always been the compassionate one out of your little friend group. Like a pillar, he’s the one who keeps you all grounded (and he’s the one to drive your asses back home after the wild Alpha Beta Gamma frat parties).

“I don’t like Changbin that way, I realized. So it’d be very much appreciated if you asses didn’t allude to that every time,” you huff.

Felix sends you an understanding smile. “We can work that out. You know that Hyunjin and Seungmin in particular can be insensitive and sometimes don’t realize they’ve taken things too far..”

“Fine, but that’s not the main thing that’s eating me up alive, Felix.” you sigh. The words seem to flow out of your mouth like a waterfall. “I’ve realized I’ve never really liked Changbin. Okay, fine, he was just a crush I had but I don’t like him.”

He nods slowly, his brain processing your ramble. “So you like someone else.”

“Yes. And I don’t know how to fix it because we got into a huge fight.”

“Talk to them. That’s the only thing left to do.” His response is immediate, and he says it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Every relationship has its ups and downs, and if you want to be committed, you have to fight for it. If you were made for one another, you’ll make it.”

The last part makes you laugh internally. If only he knew.

“Let me guess, you expect me to barge into his place to sort things out,” you say.

Felix gives you the look of judgment. “I mean, you could also show some human decency and text him in advance so he’s also prepared. But that works fine too.”

Come to think of it, you’ve never been to Jisung’s apartment. That’s about to change when you knock on his door sometime in the evening, shortly after sunset.

Jisung’s face immediately drops once he opens the door. “What are you doing here?” His voice is soft, drenched in regret.

It’s not that his appearance has reached rock bottom. He still takes good care of himself; however, you pick up the dark circles under his eyes and his complexion seems a little paler. Not sickeningly pale, but in a sense that he hasn’t seen the light of day for a few consecutive days.

You shift your weight on one leg and fiddle with your fingers. “Can we talk?”

Jisung gulps. “Yeah, sure,” he mumbles after a moment of hesitation before inviting you in.

“I’ve thought a long time about this. Everything, really,” you start awkwardly as soon as you’re both standing stiffly in his living room. “I, um…”

You cringe inwardly as your voice trails off. Truth be told, you’ve rehearsed what you wanted to say many times a few hours ago. Even wrote down the entire speech. Then threw the draft away, only to compose a new one. And then again and again and again. After what felt like an eternity, you had polished your final speech and memorized it from top to bottom, even making sure that your flow sounded natural. But now that this is the real deal, your mind goes blank. Of course, of fucking course, your illiterate brain had to give up on you in the situation that mattered the most.

Jisung purses his lips. “Do you want something to drink first? No need to rush—”

“I don’t like Changbin!” you blurt out. Jisung stares at you in confusion. “I mean, I used to like Changbin — I still do, he’s a nice guy! Don’t get me wrong — but that’s all he is. He’s… nice. I like him, as a friendly guy. I had a crush on him, but now it’s just, uh, like. Platonic! Yeah, platonic.”

Despite him nodding slowly, you know that he is still lost. You would be too if you were on the receiving end of this painfully clumsy delivery.

You give yourself a mental slap as you take a deep breath. It can’t get any worse than this. Definitely impossible. You’ve already proven to him how bad your public speaking skills are. Might as well get over it with the bluntest words. “I miss you. And not because of the sexual things we did, but everything else. I miss you coming over, miss the movie night, and all that. I miss you, Jisung.”

He stares at you silently. Your eyes search his face for any sign of emotion, and for one too many times, Jisung is impossible to read. Okay, perhaps you did manage to tell him what you wanted to tell him even worse than whatever the fuck your initial attempt was.

But then his blank armor cracks. Little by little, his eyes soften, disbelief and remorse on display for you to see. Jisung is looking at you as if his world has fallen apart even more. He’s looking at you as if he’s clinging to the last threads of reason, trying to make sense of the situation. He’s looking at you with eyes that could hold stars behind them, stars that were supposed to burn out yet shine brighter than the universe.

“How can you say that? I hurt you. I made you cry! I was being a selfish asshole who put out his anger on you!” he exclaims, voice breaking towards the end. Pain clouds his red eyes, and he’s fighting to keep the tears at bay.

You slowly prod closer to him, testing the waters. He doesn’t react once, not even when you stand directly in front of him. Not even when you gently place your hands on a shoulder each. Not until you say, “It’s alright. I’m alright. No hard feelings.”

That’s his breaking point. Tears stream down his face, while quiet hiccups jump out of his throat. “How can you be so nice to me?” His sobs are muffled as he eases into your touch, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around your waist, clinging onto you as if you’re his lifeline.

The answer is simple, you say to yourself, as you thread a hand in his hair. “We’re soulmates.”

The weight of the words hangs in the air, shattering the previous tension and all the worries in your heart. It’s liberating, finally being able to say it out loud without feeling like an abnormality for saying those words with happiness. You’re soulmates. You’re soulmates, and that’s okay.

Jisung’s sobs resound throughout the room, and so do his countless, tiny yeah, we are’s. You need a moment before you register the wetness on your face. It feels like an eternity standing in his warm embrace, even after there are no more tears left to cry.

“Can I kiss you?” Your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, but Jisung catches it. two fingers gently lift your chin so that you’re facing him. You almost melt when your eyes meet, his gaze filled with adoration that makes you want to burst at the seams.

“Yeah. I’d love that.” Jisung smiles.

It costs you your willpower to tear your eyes away from him before they flutter down to his lips. Despite his bottom lip being a little cracked, they look inviting and you wonder what they taste like. You expect him to nudge you, expect him to tell you to hurry up and do something because you’re pretty sure you’re staring at his lips for far too long.

He doesn’t. The grip on your chin is loose as if to tell you to take your time and go at your own pace. But the longer you wait, the more reluctance builds up. It’s a lot of power he’s given you; hell, it’s the first time he hands the reigns to you.

“Can you… uhm… I’ve never done this before, so yeah…” you look at him with a crooked smile.

The breathless chuckle that leaves him sounds like music to your ears. Jisung moves his hand to the back of your neck before closing the distance between you.

The kiss is short and sweet, but that alone suffices to make the butterflies in your stomach burst. The faint taste of coke lingers on him, and before you know it, you’re kissing again. Jisung’s lips are like an addiction, reeling you back in for another one. Somewhere along the way, the kisses change. Innocent presses of lips are long forgotten, replaced by teeth playfully tugging on your bottom lip, and Jisung kissing you deeper to the point where he steals all oxygen out of your lungs.

Your hands slide down his chest, tugging on his shirt. Startled by your bold actions, he pulls away, but you catch him back into another liplock that leaves the two of you breathless. All you can think of clearly is Jisung Jisung Jisung—

This time he forces himself away from you. Gasping for air, he places his forehead on yours. “If we go farther than this, then I don’t know if I can control myself.” His warning is barely above a whisper.

“Then don’t,” you whisper back.

That’s all the reassurance he needs before leading you to his bedroom, all the whilst latching onto your lips once more. He doesn’t let go of you until your back hits the soft mattress and he’s on top of you. Warm, slightly calloused hands trail from your cheeks to the hem of your shirt.

“Color?”

“Green,” you respond, smiling up at him. The sun has long vanished at the horizon, replaced by the dim moon and stars. Despite only a little light surging past the blinds into the room, you can see Jisung’s features crystal clear. The endearing smile is cast into the back of your mind, so is the delicacy in his touch, fingertips lightly grazing your skin as he sheds all your clothes off until you’re left in your underwear. After hearing your complaints, he discards his own clothes with an amused glint in his eyes.

Jisung takes his time pounding every single detail of your features into his memory. His hands roam all over your body, inciting goosebumps. You lean into his touch with a sigh and flit your gaze to him once he stops on a particular spot.

The look on his face is unreadable, but the hesitation in his voice speaks for itself.  “Does this bug you?” he asks, uncertainty laced in it as he runs his finger over each character of his name that’s inked under your collarbone. You shake your head with a hum that turns into a soft moan once he leaves kisses on the spots his finger burned before, one for each letter. Eventually, his actions spiral out to sucking lovebites and rutting his bulge against your heat, enticing louder whines out of you. Your vision morphs into blurriness as you move your hips in sync with his, locking your arms around his neck to pull him even closer to you.

“(y/n), baby…” Jisung heaves for air, “Is it okay if I…?.”

“Please,” you mewl, “want you inside me.” Your desperation must’ve shone through your tone, as Jisung presses a loving kiss on your forehead before he reaches over to the nightstand for a condom, grinning like a lovesick idiot.  

In books and movies, this is the part where the virgin would reach peak nervousness. Too many fears would be inhabiting their mind; the fear of pain, fear of not fulfilling their partner’s needs, fear of the entire situation, essentially. Whatever they depict in those books and movies, it doesn’t match up with the warmth and want pumping in your veins. Even after Jisung slipped your and his underwear off and slid the condom on his leaking cock, there’s no sign of fear bubbling in you. It’s rather the opposite; you nudge him to finally slide into you.

“So impatient,” he tuts playfully, and because he can’t help being a bit sadistic, he teases your dripping entrance with the tip of his cock. Tears begin to form in your eyes from the frustration of clenching around nothing. You feel like crying for good once he slowly pushes into you. The stretch feels unfamiliar and completely different than what you’re used to from his fingers, but it’s not unpleasant as you throw your head back. While you’re adjusting to his girth, Jisung observes your every expression, faltering whenever you scrunch your eyes shut. 

“You still there?” he asks in hushed tones, caressing your cheek.

In awe about his concern, you nod. “I’m fine. It’s just… new. I’ve never done this, but I guess you already figured that out.” It takes you a moment to catch your breath, and then you give him the green light to continue.

The way Jisung has your hands firmly against the bed lacks the usual roughness; he isn’t gripping your wrists as if he’s about to cut off your blood circulation. This time, he has intertwined his fingers with yours as if he doesn’t ever want to let go of you. A firework of colors and stars is all you see as he thrusts into slow and deep and with all the passion he has to offer. His lips don’t leave space for a breather either; he kisses you with so much fervor that it swallows your heart up whole. At that instant, you realize that he’s claimed your heart and isn’t going to give that up any time soon. You don’t mind, because you know that you’ve committed the same crime.

It’s not long after until you feel the orgasm building up. Jisung brings one hand down to flick your clit, and just like that, you unravel beneath him. His own release follows suit, a muffled groan coming from his lips as he spills into the condom.

It’s quiet for a moment, no words spoken between you except for harsh breathing. Eventually, Jisung slides his softening dick out of you and disappears for a moment to clean up, returning with a damp towel for you to freshen up a little, as well as a glass of water.

“I think I won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” you say after you gulped down the drink in one go, voice devoid of emotion. A laugh leaves Jisung. The way you deliver it is so casual as if he didn’t just have his dick in you minutes before. “Also, isn’t this the part where we should cuddle?”

“So bossy, your royal majesty.” He even takes a bow before he climbs back on the bed, pulling the covers over your bodies, and scooting up to you. He says something else, but you don’t register what exactly. All you care about is being wrapped in his warm embrace. The stench of sweat isn’t prominent on him anymore. Instead, it’s a huge cloud of Axe overpowering your senses. You would complain, but you’re too blissed out to bother.

Jisung must’ve noticed at a certain point that you’ve wandered to daydream paradise. “You’ve been quiet for a while. A penny for your thoughts.”

“But you can read my mind.”

“I want you to say it out loud.” His answer comes like a shot while his hand is brushing through your hair. “That, and your thoughts are too jumbled and my head is going to malfunction if I try to decode everything running in your head right now.”

The corners of your lips quirk upwards. “I’m just thinking about how we did everything in the wrong order. It’s just now that we kissed, before that I only sucked you off or something. We’re so fucked up.”

“If you word it that way, we definitely didn’t follow the book.” Jisung laughs in agreement. The vibrations from his chest causes you to bubble up in warmth.

“I don’t mind, though. That’s not the point. I’m happy.” You don’t have to look up to know that his eyes lit up. “Jisung, I’m happy that you’re mine.”

The hold around your waist tightens, and you feel a soft kiss being pressed on top of your head. “And I’m happy that you’re mine.”

In another lifetime, another universe, you probably wouldn’t have to go through these struggles. Society would normalize having someone that completes you. You wouldn’t go through countless stages of denial, countless stages of frustration, and countless stages of doubt.

In another lifetime, another universe, you potentially could’ve been on even worse terms. Just like in those cyberpunk movies, maybe you two would be enemies, one fighting alongside the government, the other assisting the villain who tries to overthrow the system. Star-crossed lovers, that’s what you two would be dubbed as.

In another lifetime, another univer—

No need to fantasize about what could be. The only lifetime that matters is this lifetime, this universe, your reality. In reality, people like you live in hiding. In reality, society is doubtful towards people with soulmates. In reality, people like you are destined for a tragedy. It’s taken you a long time to wrap it around your head.

That’s alright though. You’re alright. You’ll always be alright. The universe might have not played in your favor in this lifetime, but you still found each other. Perhaps, the universe will be more forgiving towards you in your next lifetime. Or the one after. Who knows? Whatever happens, at least you know you have one person you’re bound to meet wherever you are, whenever you are. One person who won’t ever let go of you. One person you won’t ever let go of.

“Yeah, I’m yours.”

[artpharos]

Richass for 001, any PLA character of your choice for 002!

when I started shipping it if I did: when Kris sat me down and was like 'y'know richass isn't really all that bad' and she pointed out exactly how it would work and why it would work and i was like 'oh no it's perfect i ship it now too'

my thoughts: I really want to draw more of them and write more about them and like the ship is so good??? Like there's the dash of angst from both their parts, Richard has at least attempted to murder Asbel at least once, and at the same time they're both so hopeful and working towards a better future and being a source of support for one another and their friendship has been something that they believed in even though everything was trying to tear them apart and-- god the ship writes itself honestly

What makes me happy about them: constant support from each other on both their sides, both understanding the other's issues at least post game, both going to the ends of the world for the other, both having such a mutual respect towards one another, them starting out using the other as a crutch but then slowly evolved past that to realize that they can be their own people and drawing strength from their bond in a healthier fashion... and then the constant silliness you can imagine with them what with Richard being Richard and Asbel being dumb as bricks im sorry

What makes me sad about them: That they aren't canon? I guess????

things done in fanfic that annoys me: I don't know hm. Man I read anything richass at this point because this is graces fandom and we are desperate

things I look for in fanfic: I'd love for a fic that emphasizes how unhealthy they were for each other at the start of the game and how they evolved to become better people that can support each other properly towards the end of the game. either that or anything funny with Richard running circles around Asbel RIP. Or Lambda being their surprisingly adopted son i guess???

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: Lambda yes i know i ship everyone with Lambda, you asked I'm also partial to Cheribel, Cherichard, and I can live with Richsoph if it comes down to it

My happily ever after for them: That they recover from the stuff they were put through growing up and end up rebuilding Windor and leading the country/world to peace and prosperity and Richard gets to spend his days in Lhant in his husband's embrace while their child rules in peace and harmony?

who is the big spoon/little spoon: Switch depending on who needs the comfort the most :')

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: working through Richard's issues travelling the world in peace and harmony and just enjoying each other's presence away from the burdens of their responsibilities where they can indulge in their love for one another

Answering Volo for 002 so y'know spoilers abound underneath cut

How I feel about this character: I laugh at him because he is essentially Richard Tales of Graces but also I feel like it was really smart of Arceus to publicize him as Cynthia's ancestor and then turn around and make him the big bad doing exactly what Cyrus wanted to do like it definitely would have surprised baby me if I wasn't smarter and suspicious of everything under the sun now

All the people I ship romantically with this character: Eh can I say Cogita? I MEAN I HAVE REALLY NO IDEA HOW OLD SHE IS BUT THEY HAVE A CLOSE BOND, THEY BOTH LOOK LIKE CYNTHIA, SHE HAS A REALLY FUNNY DYNAMIC WITH HIM-- Other than that maybe protag?? LIKE MY DUDE WAS NICE AND SUPPORTIVE AND HELPED PROTAG EVEN IF IT WAS JUST TO FURTHER HIS ENDS BUT COME ON THEY ACTUALLY BONDED RIGHT??? RIGHT????

My non-romantic OTP for this character: Giratina hands down :') Love me some deal and empathy with Pokemon satan to conquer Pokemon god

My unpopular opinion about this character: His final hair cut sucks like WHAT THE HELL MY DUDE YOU HAD SUCH NICE FLOWING LOCKS PLEASE OWN THEM

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: Please give us more of your backstory apart from 'I suffered :( so now I want to destroy and remake the world after making a deal with satan' like what were you suffering from my dude and ALSO ARE YOU JUST AS LONG LIVED AS COGITA ARE YOU GOING TO BE AROUND FOR CENTURIES

my OTP: i GUESS COGITA BECAUSE LIKE... IF CYNTHIA'S HIS DESCENDENT I WANT SOME SANITY IN THAT BLOODLINE OK

my cross over ship: CyrusxVolo just for the shits and giggles

a headcanon fact: volo's people were wiped out by invaders so he struggled for years until he was found by Ginter who raised him but was very emotionally distant and the only person Volo attempted to bond with is Cogita because she has a Common Interest even though he's like just using her to further his own ends

[ancientevangelions]

I need you: Asushin and how it impacted my relationship

Summary: Asushin, my relationship and initial reactions to spoilers/ Evangelion final

I wrote this to sort out some feelings so... have fun! 

WARNING POTENTIAL SPOILERS FOR EVANGELION FINAL 3.0 + 1.0

As many of you know I like to ship. Shipping is complicated and means many things to many different people. Some people take it very seriously, others don’t. There are random ships and ships based on evidence, ships as stand in for thoughts and feelings, and sometimes there is a lack of shipping/ no ship. Sometimes it is casual and always for fun, but some ships run deeper than others. For me most shipping is just a fun byproduct of fandom, but I do have an important ship. For me my primary and most important ship is Asuka Langley Soryu and Shinji Ikari from Neon Genesis Evangelion. A series that ran in 1995/96 with a movie in 1997, it is heartbreaking and visually pleasing, full of depression troupes. The characters are messy and awful, but also real and interesting. To me they are more than just fictional characters that I love and enjoy drawing together, they are also a representation of myself and Roachor and the relationship we share.

Let me back up a bit, a lot of you aren’t going to understand what’s going on with me without a bit of context and some history. Roachor and I started dating in October of 2009, and Roachor introduced me to Evangelion and the Rebuild series soon after we started dating. Later I would go on to watch NGE and EoE and fall in love hardcore with those but first came a few episodes of NGE and Rebuild 1.0 and 2.0 (if I remember correctly). Now the rebuilds have always been love/hate for me with regards to the direction and how Asuka is handled (Rebuilds is Asuka Langley Shikinami not Soryu and she is very different but that’s another rant). NGE/EoE are my loves and what I always come back to, especially because of the Soryu/Ikari dynamic. I related to Asuka, especially the younger versions of me. She’s fiery, tough, speaks her mind and she has many issues, but she is also kind and brave and 14. Asuka to me was therapeutic to watch, it was interesting for me discovering I had depression/anxiety at 22 to see a teenager going through a lot of the same thoughts and feelings I had at the time and in high school. I can’t speak for Roachor’s experiences, but I know he relates to Shinji Ikari because he told me so. In this way I started to see the both of us in them and eventually their relationship as relatable to our relationship. Some of you may yell “BUT ASUSHIN IS TOXIC/ABUSIVE”, and yes well it is unhealthy at times but again this is my story not yours. I see Asuka and Shinji as the endgame ship/couple of NGE/EoE, damaged people that relate to each other and can understand each other with some work and effort. That’s how I felt when I was younger, damaged and looking for someone to understand me. Roachor and I had arguments, fights, unhealthy coping mechanisms, and many other things we had to overcome on our own and together. Just because our relationship isn’t perfect and smooth all the time doesn’t make it less meaningful/valid. To me a relationship that grows and struggles is meaningful and relatable. Yes, Shinji makes some very, very bad mistakes and Asuka isn’t always kind and caring, but I still see the potential in the little moments, the exchanged glances, the message of “I’m the same as you”. Soryu/Ikari is something I will always love.

Never

Now for the Rebuilds. I know Anno said they would be different and he would destroy Evangelion but maybe I never believed him? I find that I still thought Asuka and Shinji would be endgame, maybe I was misled because so many other spin-offs and the manga end with him coming back to/ finding Asuka, maybe I was projecting too much and wanted to believe something that wasn’t likely. Ultimately it doesn’t matter. I had my heart broken by the Rebuilds if the spoilers for 3.0 + 1.0 are true. “Don’t ship anyone in Evangelion, they are all terrible/ you’re gunna be disappointed” things I have said before/heard and yet here I was, hoping desperately for Shinji and Asuka to connect yet again, enjoying the romantic tension in 2.0/ the hints of remaining love in 3.0. And then the Final came out yesterday and the spoilers were shocking. Shinji chooses to leave for the real world with Mari, Asuka stays behind to rebuild her world with the others, Asuka and Shinji confess their love for one another and then decide “but it would never work out”.

“It would never work out”

Wow… how final and heartbreaking. We are too different now, we grew apart, we’re not the same as 14 years ago, I am more mature, we are different people. My 10 years with Roachor suddenly felt like it was being shattered and tested by a Japanese show I have yet to view or experience. The relationship I had hoped for was being yanked away from me. Something I related to was being stated to NEVER work.  How could Anno betray me like that?! How could he say something so cruel. They are mine, not his! How can he just take away the beautiful ambiguity and decide that fans aren’t allowed to have this? Mari endgame? HAH and yet… the spoilers keep coming in and it doesn’t seem to be changing. Mari as Anno’s wife? Shinji is Anno? How could he do this? How could he change the direction and the people involved? WHY!!! Asuka and Shinji are supposed to come back together always. But then I remembered “Shikinami” not Soryu not Asuka Langley Soryu, daughter of Kyoko and her unnamed father, not college graduate and Miss Piggy-esq personality.

  Shikinami… she’s not MY Asuka. That’s not MY Shinji.

I am reminded of the idea that a different you exists in the minds of others, there are many versions of Asuka, Shinji, Sigma, Roachor. This isn’t my Asuka, this is Shikinami, this is a new Asuka, this is a new Anno. This isn’t mine… So… It’s not mine, not for me but for Anno and how it ends and the journey is his and he is sharing it with us. But where does that leave me? Will I like this new movie? Will it rip my heart into pieces? Does it even matter anymore?

It’s okay to be sad, but don’t let it destroy you. No I won’t let it destroy me. And yet… I lost? No, no one lost, there is only change and a differing message. At the end of the day it doesn’t matter, I still have my relationship with Roachor. I still have Soryu and Ikari (regardless of anything others or Rebuilds may say). I have my merch, fanart and other fan made items. I have a lot to confirm what I love and know. It’s okay, it’s not my story, it’s not my ending, but that’s okay.

Edited at 3:07 PM

After thinking a while I think I will be okay with this/ it is okay that Evangelion and everyone is moving on. I think we all need to move forward in the end. Also it sounds like it was less harsh of a scene and more just two people acknowledging they grew up and changed and not being all ARGH TOXIC. That seems to be interpretation not intent.

[kylosupremeimagines]

Charlie Barber NSFW A-Z

(Special thanks to @driversmutbucket​ for lending me a helping hand with this! I think that the things we did with this turned out great, especially what they wrote!) 

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) Charlie loves to bask in post-orgasm bliss with you. Just laying together silently, drawing soft patterns on your skin. If it isn’t in the bedroom/home (which sometimes it certainly isn’t), a post-shag cigarette (a social smoker only since Henry was born) or drink at a bar where he can hold your hand and whisper sweet sentiments in your ear. 

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Charlie is a breast man. He loves grazing his fingers over your clothed breasts discreetly in public. He loves coming up behind you at home and creeping his hands up your top and just cupping them. When you sleep he will spoon you and cradle your tit. When you have sex his mouth and hands are all over them, kneading, sucking, squeezing and flicking your nipples. He will run his cock over them and between them - almost cumming on the spot if you let him titty fuck you. Charlie doesn’t look in the mirror often, he isn’t egotistical about his looks. His favorite body parts of his own are his hands, how big they look against yours, how one splayed covers a lot of your stomach or your ass. How much of your breast he can fit into his grasp. He is very visual, after all. 

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person) Charlie prefers his cum inside you, your mouth, your pussy, your ass, he doesn’t care. But he prefers not to cum on you, or on himself. A neat and tidy person by nature, this extends to his bedroom preferences, having to clean up cum ruins the post-orgasmic bliss. 

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He would love to have another woman join you in the bedroom but doesn’t know how to ask, just yet. It’s a matter of time before you come across his pornhub history and figure it out. Maybe he will just leave it up purposely for you to find... E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) As much as any typical guy in their mid-30s. He certainly gained experience when he studied performing arts, before meeting his ex-wife. He knows what he is doing, his confidence growing when you give him feedback. F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual) Any position where he can get his hands, or mouth on your breasts. Particularly fond of any variation of cowgirl, on the bed, sofa, chair, floor… G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc) It can go either way with Charlie, sometimes you’ll laugh and giggle like teenagers, especially if fooling around in a public or semi-public place. Other times Charlie can be very serious, whispering sweet declarations of love and affection.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) Trimmed, neat and tidy, no fro’s to be found here. I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) For the latter years of his marriage, he felt as if his sex life was lacking, and since then he didn’t get much action as he prefers not to have one night stands with people he doesn’t know. But when he gets to know you enough and grows close to you, as soon as you get involved with one another, he’s going to treat you as perfectly as he can. Charlie will fulfill your every sexual need and desire, making sure that you’re as pleased as can be. 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon) Charlie had to rely on masturbation for a while, seeing as how Nicole barely - if at all - satisfied him for about a year before the divorce started. And as soon as it did, he couldn’t really rely on others doing it for him. Thus he resorted to masturbation. He’d mostly do it when Henry isn’t with him at his apartment, and will get really into it. Why not treat yourself right? He’d do everything to get into the mood, such as turn down the lights and put on some of his favorite porn. As he’s actually doing it, it’ll pretty much be what you expect. 

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks) Charlie isn’t heavily into any kinks in particular but is partial to switching, age play, light BDSM and breeding kink. 

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do) Not that he’s too mum of a traditionalist, but Charlie prefers to have sex in his bed, or somewhere around the house when Henry isn’t around. It allows for privacy so that you can get as wild as you want, and there’s no risk of anyone walking in on you. M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going) You caring for and nurturing his son, Henry, does things for him. Parenting is important to Charlie because his own parents were absent and problematic. When you treat Henry like your own, it makes Charlie want to rip your clothes off and show you how much he appreciates you. Not to mention knock you up with your own baby.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) He would despise someone who is too self centered and mostly cares about their own sexual needs, and not his own as well. He thinks it’s only fair to be concerned with what you both want. With that being said, he also doesn’t like when his partner is too demanding of him. Of course he wouldn’t mind if you get a bit dominant, but if you don’t let  him have any say from time to time, that’s when he’s going to be turned off. O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) Oh boy, Charlie loves receiving oral,especially with its unexpected and you suddenly are on your knees and pulling at the waistband of his trousers. He also loves eating you out, how his whole mouth can fit over your vulva and your reactions to his tongue. He is skilled at oral sex, especially once he learns what you like. P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) It all really depends on the mood. Sometimes he will be on the slower side when he just wants to show his love for you. He will cherish every second, being more romantic than usual. Other times when you both really just need it, he will be fast and rough enough to leave you sore in the morning. However, most of the time it will be a good mixture of both. 

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.) Sometimes you’ve just got to settle with a quickie. When it’s needed while either of you are in a rush, then he’s more than happy to do one with you. Even if it’s just quick, he’s still going to be doing wonders to you that will have you wanting more. R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) After spending the majority of the few years before meeting you in a rocky, mostly sexless marriage, Charlie was making up for it now. Role playing, different fetishes - he would try it, if it wasn’t for you, you would usually fall in a pile in raptures of laughter (like the time you tried to play teacher/student and you couldn’t keep a straight face when you forgot basic times tables). S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…) If Charlie is really into it, then he could go on for a while, no matter how many rounds you want to go for. His desire to satisfy you is more than enough to keep him going in bed. T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) Charlie doesn’t really like to use toys on himself, because he can handle good old masturbation when it’s just him. However, when it comes to you, if you have any toys of your own, then he’s more than happy to use them on you. If it’s something common like a dildo or vibrator, he probably would know how to use it. If it’s something a little less common, then he may need you to explain how you like it to be used on you. But no worries, in no time he would be able to get the hang of it! U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) He’s teased his son for years to entertain him when things got boring or he wanted to make him laugh, but he can translate that into sexual teasing for you. He won’t ever become too overbearing with it to the point it turns you off. While out in public, he may whisper things to get you in the mood for sex later back at him. Or he’ll teasingly make you wait for intimacy to see how long it takes for you to cave in for it. V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make) When Henry is home, of course he’s going to try to be quiet as to not lead the boy to figure out what’s going on. But when it’s just you two in the apartment, he isn't’t going to hold back. Charlie will moan with every little pleasure, signifying that he’s enjoying what’s happening. He’ll also grunt while he’s the one pumping in and out of you. He’ll also say things such as “you like that?” in a low voice, just barely loud enough for you to hear. W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) At first, he was worried that he would not be good enough in bed since nicole was the last one that he was intimate with, and it wasn’t the best in his last year of marriage. He was self conscious at first but after the beginning of your sexual relationship, he got right back into it and was more than confident with pleasuring you beyond belief. X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words) He is l o n g. Uncircumcised. To be honest he has a really pretty dick, never had you found a penis so blimmin’ appealing. He is the first person you have slept with who has been able to hit that sweet spot. You tell him that all the time, usually in between moans. Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?) Especially after the time he had been without much sex during the last year of his marraige as well as until he got together with you, he’s going to havea pretty high sex drive for a while. He won’t get too crazy and demand it, but you’ll be having sex at least a few times a week if you can manage it; and boy would it be so worth it to be intimate with him.Z =

ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) After Charlie has satisfied you enough, he will want to hold you close and take in the soft moment after having gone full in with sex. Content himself, he will end up falling asleep as long as you’re in bed together, knowing how well things went.

[catgirlkaiju-art]

So, I’ve been having a hard time recently and decided I need a stress free project to comfort myself with. So I decided to do another redesign of my OG fursona from high school, Pearl:

I loved Pearl. I even made a few pages of a comic for her and painted them digitally for a class. With a mouse. In a pre Adobe build of flash. Unfortunately, all that remains of that are the title page I made for it above and some pencil sketches.

 I even made her my online identity, telling people on places like IMVU and Gaia Online that my name was Pearl. I would post pics of my avatars, but I can no longer access those accounts so RIP to me I guess.

I had already done a redesign of her in 2019 to show my progress as an artist:

And it’s like, idk, it’s okay. I think this is a decent redesign of her as I wanted to draw her back then. But, I wasn’t satisfied. So, I began my project this year by redesigning her again:

Decided it would be fun to not only show off some of my new chops as an artist, but to age up the character to the age that she would be now. So, she’s gone from age 16 (when I last drew her) to 28. She graduated college with a Master’s in Science Fiction studies. She’s living in an apartment in the city just trying to get by working in retail. She even managed to get Tail Feminization Surgery, so her transition’s coming along great.

But that’s not all, because I remembered: There were other main characters in her comic, and I needed to draw them too. Especially:

Sasha (formerly Seepha, idk I didn’t like the name so I changed it. No offense to anyone actually named Seepha) was Pearl’s best friend in high school, and is now her loving wife. Pearl and her are in a punk band together and share an apartment. Sasha is also an activist and food service worker. She struggled with her body image when she was young, struggling with anorexia, but now she’s proud of her natural fatness and curves.

Next was Pearl’s family as depicted in this other comic sketch (god I really with I had been able to save those completed pages):

First was Pearl’s older sister:

Rai was not only Pearl’s older sister, but helped raise her and their youngest sibling. Despite raising her sisters after the loss of their parents in her mid 20′s, Rai managed to graduate college with a law degree and now works as a criminal defense lawyer, doing her best to fight for the rights of people who might not otherwise be able to afford most lawyers. She still lives in her childhood home in her hometown of Poké Oaks with her youngest sibling. Rai has also realized that she doesn’t need sexual or romantic relationships to make her happy and lives a contented single life.

Now Pearl’s younger sibling:

Elissa (I don’t think I need to justify changing her name from Pi. And, just to be clear, it was pronounced Pee, not Pie. So, yeah... no) has just recently started college and trying to decide what they want to do with their life while exploring their gender identity and sexuality. Elissa remains carefree and upbeat with many friends and a love for excitement!

This was just the comfy kind of project that I needed to help me through a tough time in my life. I’ve also realized that I still have a lot of love for these silly anthro Pokémon/ Final Fantasy creature OCs that I made as a teenager, also going through one of the toughest times in my life. I think there’s a lot to be said for just making things that make you happy and not caring what others will think.

This has been a good send off to characters that I love and cherish and I might end up posting more art of them. Maybe photo from Pearl and Sasha’s wedding. Rai graduating from college. Elissa studying late at night with some friends. A family reunion. 

Even if I never get around to those, I’m glad I’ve gotten to share these with y’all and I look forward to creating more art in the future :3

[emilythecosmicbun]

Creepypasta OCs.

Any updates information is on Wattpad WATTPAD: https://www.wattpad.com/story/255861941-creepypasta-ocs-emily-elliot-and-stedge

TW BLOOD, ABUSE MENTION

cottontailprincess is my Instagram and Emilythecosmiccat is my username on some art websites.

They/Them pronouns please

do not sexualise me, my characters or my boyfriend please he isn’t comfortable with that.

okay so these are my two vent ocs.

Emily/Elliot (Bunny.)

one of them, as you know, is my impure agere oc, representing all the sad and flashback parts of everything. I made them to help cope with my thoughts and feelings. They are based off of my appearance and my trauma. They age up with me.

BASIC INFO

Full Name: Emily/Elliot Bunzelle but prefers just Emily or Elliot.

Nickname(s): Bunny, Emmy, El, Em, Princess, Prince, Princette

Meaning of name: Emily (from Urban Dictionary.) An Emily is someone who is crazy inside and out. She knows who her friends are and try’s hard to look after them. She is very pretty but doesn’t always know that. She isn’t always the most popular, but to her that doesn’t matter. She has friends from all ages and they all adore her. She hides her feelings however upsetting they may be.

Meaning of name: Elliot (Urban Dictionary) Elliot is a true master at caring. He teaches how to love and be loved. A man of honour a man of steal. He's as handsome as a Greek God, as strong as diamond, as compassionate as a saint and is as gentle as a father's touch. Elliot possesses a magic within to create a vision in the eyes of all, leaving them stunned at how brilliant and perfect Elliot truly is. A leader, a spirit lifter, a lover, a giver, an Elliot'll leave you speechless with his being, his essence.

Gender: Non-Binary

Pronouns: They/Them

Age:

Currently 19, same as IRL me, though they physically and mentally regress to younger ages, so their age varies. Their main ages are variants of 1+

Date of Birth:

August 21st (Body born in 2001)

Race/Species: English and a Spirit or Entity.

Native language: English (as in England English.)

Orientation/Sexual Preference: Bisexual Personality: Silly, playful, honest, caring, childish, bratty, stubborn, sweet.

Are They Dead: No but they aren't alive either. Somewhere in between.

Any Mental Health Issues?

C-PTSD, due to multiple traumatic events. They frequently experience multiple flashbacks and nightmares, and is usually terrified of leaving their safe space unless it’s with Stedge, even then, they panic.

Triggers: Listed Here. Triggers page on my Carrd.

Powers/Special Abilities: Can float slightly off the ground, is able to phase through walls, spew blood at will, and look "alive" when speaking and comforting children, or just around those they trust.

APPEARANCE:

Looks:

Very young child:  Short but very curly/wavy brown hair, a bit lighter than when they are in older looking forms. They wear a pink dress with a white shirt under, and black school shoes. However, they can also just wear a sonic shirt and leggings, or a skirt.

Child:  They can vary but their usual look is long curly/wavy brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin, blood on their mouth and nose area, tired-looking eyes, pink dress, sometimes a nightgown, depending on the look, they can wear socks, bunny slippers or even go barefoot! Sometimes they wear bunny ears! Sometimes they like to wear sonic gear.

Teen:  Depending on the age as a teen, at the point it's  "kawaii" inspired things, sometimes just a Melanie Martinez shirt and pants (or skirt), sometimes overalls! They also wore band merch, stuff like that. They have either long brown hair, black hair or multicoloured hair like Melanie Martinez (dyed in variants such as pink, red, blonde (more like light ginger.)

Adult:  Band tops, but also ones with cute designs on such as bunnies or kittens, sometimes overalls or dresses, sometimes even onesies, since they can still have the traits of an agere headspace. Short Brown hair, is a lot chubbier than the rest, can be considered mid or plus size.

Height: Varies depending on form and age, but usually smol.

Weight: (UNKNOWN BUT IT VARIES.)

Hair color: Dark brown/Brown

Eye color: Brown

Scars and/or skin conditions: Has a few bruises and a few cuts in some places, but I prefer to not draw them.

Has a skin condition called psoriasis. (I have it IRL.)

Never Seen Without: White Bun, and their three Cream The Rabbit plushies.

Likes:

• Things with peaches (the fruit) on them. (Including peaches and peach ice tea.)

• Bunnies

• Their Caregiver, Stedge.

• Drawing, and colouring in.

• The colour pink.

• Sonic The Hedgehog.

• Porcelain Dolls

• Stuffed Animals

Dislikes:

• Abusers (including physical, mental and sexual abusers.)

• Those who take advantage of vulnerable people.

• People who don’t take them seriously.

• Drama.

• Being abandoned or left alone.

Relationships:

Stedge - Partner in crime, best friend, caregiver and lover. (Depending on age of course.)

Cream.exe (Sally.exe game) - practically twinning, bunny loves to hang out with cream.exe. (my highest kin, apart from cream herself.)

Family Members - Depending on which member, they do have a good bond or a negative one. Bunny loves them on different levels, some of them, they hate.  This does not reflect on how (I myself) feel about said family members.

(If you want your creepypasta oc to be friends with Bunny, just ask!)

OTHER INFO:

• They age up with my current age since they aren't dead and they are based off of me.

• I decided to make them some sort of entity since I couldn’t make them a ghost and still be alive lol they age up with me.

•Their “trauma” is the same as mine, which is why I won’t write it in detail here but they are a victim of abuse.

• They are all bloody because its how I feel about my trauma.

• They physically and mentally regressed to the age they are supposed to be, if they are in their child forms, they are an actual child. (Direct reference to my age regression I use to help me cope with my trauma) They prefer to be in this form so they can protect and befriend children. They don't harm children or other victims of abuse. The children usually call them “bunny.”

• When they're in their adult form, they have a partner called Stephen. Someone who they have known since they were 17 years old. When they are a “child” he takes care of them and protects them to make sure they don't ever get hurt again.

• Their sense of justice is what caused them to want to help other children. They never want to see another child go through what they went through.

Any Other Info is on the Picture.

Stedge

Well, I also made a creepypasta oc to represent my boyfriend, someone who I love and trust to help me during those horrible times. He’s like my partner in crime. lmao also his age isn’t rly there because he ages up with his real life counterpart, which will get updated.

REMINDER TO NOT SEXUALISE HIM AS MY BOYFRIEND IS UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THAT.

BASIC INFO:

Name: Stephen

Nickname(s): Stedge, Mr. Bubbles (by Emily/Elliot.)

Meaning of name: Stephen The most beautiful boy in existence. Has stunning eyes, that make your heart fall through the floor when they crinkle with his perfect smile. Is deep, unlike most boys, and extremely intelligent. Has a big heart, and he doesn't realize when he's being taken for granted. Even though he would never admit it, he sometime's can't see what's right in front of him. An over-analyzer, and very stubborn, but he will admit defeat when he has to. Likes to drive girls crazy, apparently. Easy to fall in love with. Hard to figure out.

Gender: Male

Age: Ages up with IRL person. Currently: 19.

Date of Birth:

9th April

Race/Species: English, Human.

Native language: UK English.

Orientation/Sexual Preference: Straight

Are They Dead: No

Any Mental Health Issues? No, None that we know of.

Triggers: None that we know of.

Powers/Special Abilities:

He doesn't have many powers but he athletic and can run quick and has a good amount of strength. He uses a bat and other various stuff.

APPEARANCE:

Looks:

Short brown hair, brown eyes, a bit of facial hair, variants of a black or dark grey shirt, but obviously not only those, sometimes they’re ripped.

Hair color: Dark brown, brown.

Eye color: Brown.

Scars: None.

Personality: He is quite intelligent and mature, behaves childishly in front of Emily/Elliot, cold and serious, is kind, polite, protective.

Hobbies and Likes: • playing the guitar

• skate (skateboarding)

• listening to tunes

• spending time with Emily/Elliot.

Dislikes:

• Abusers, people who take advantage of vulnerable people.

• People who are cruel to Emily/Elliot.

Relationships: Bunny - Best friend, soulmate, would do anything to make bunny smile, frequently gets them stuffed toys and food.

EXTRA INFO:

He is a few months older than me in IRL, his age is 19 right now, along with mine but will be updated.

Stephen is a human, and helps take care of Emily (in their child forms.) since they are a child and very vulnerable in that state due to their trauma, when they’re adult they are romantic towards each other.

They work together as a team when bashing and killing abusers. While he uses physical means, Emily uses mental.

Any Other Info is on the Picture.

WATTPAD: https://www.wattpad.com/story/255861941-creepypasta-ocs-emily-elliot-and-stedge

[gffa]

(TROS SPOILERS) One thing that I really enjoyed a lot about TROS is Rey’s relationship with the Force and herself.  That it was complicated and difficult, but she never wavered on wanting to be kind, compassionate, and a Jedi. Rey’s struggle has been about finding her path in the galaxy, her struggle in this movie wasn’t about what she wanted, she’s always kind of known that, but how to find it.  And it was mirrored in how she can do all this physical Force stuff–she can meditate while floating there (THE MOST JEDI THING EVER, I LOVE IT EVERY TIME A JEDI DOES THAT), she can run a training course, she can do amazing fights, she can nearly rip a transport ship out of the sky, she can Force heal, etc.–but she can’t reach the voices of the dead Jedi. She’s struggling with her anger so much that she tips over into using Force lightning, that it shows that’s part of why she’s so strong, because she’s taking all these emotional short cuts she doesn’t even realize she’s doing.  She’s taking that anger and fear, instead of confronting it, and shoving it into trying to do more and more amazing physical stuff. Yet she can’t reach the voices of the dead Jedi.  She can’t confront her fears to let them go. That she excels at the physical and struggles with the spiritual is everything I wanted from Rey’s story in this movie! Especially wrapped up in how she wants to find the light, how she wants to be a Jedi, but she’s so scared of herself.  That it’s wrapped up in the heart of one of the most important things about what the Jedi have always been–”Confronting fear is the destiny of a Jedi.”  From the Jedi Order teaching younglings that the dark side is part of them and to be overcome in the crache to the younglings on Ilum to their everyday lives to Ezra in the Jedi Temple on Lothal to Luke in the cave on Dagobah to Rey’s entire journey, that’s always been the important step to the next part of their path. I love it because the spiritual is so important to what being a Jedi is, that she has to be able to not just admit to her fears, but be willing to face them, then she can finally hear the voices of the Jedi who have been trying to reach out to her just as she was trying to hear them.  I love it because Rey does struggle with this stuff.  I love it because it shows becoming a Jedi is not that easy. And I love it because it feeds into Rey’s complicated relationships with Force-users, that she’s scared no one knows who she really is, that even she herself doesn’t really know who she is, she’s desperate for connection, for someone to understand her, and there are so few people who have this same power within them, this same massive and unfathomable thing calling to her, this entire sense in her brain that no one else understands, except for Leia a little bit and Ben probably most of all, that it feeds into this complicated relationship with him and it feels my love of complicated psychic relationships where the lines of it are difficult to draw. I really liked the balance the film struck with how you can see her relationship with Ben as romantic, that’s undeniably there, but you can also legitimately see it as Rey giving him affection, knowing that he was going to die, her way of saying goodbye, or you can see it as her desire for psychic closeness being confused for romance, you can interpret it however you want.  Maybe she loved him back, maybe it was more complicated than that, maybe it feeds into my love of those messy, impossible to detangle psychic relationships that I love so much with Anakin and his psychic feelings towards things, too. I love that it’s in a movie where Rey has to deal with this riot of feelings in her and she’s trying but she doesn’t really have a community of support, other than that she trusts Finn and tells him about it, but he can’t be with her on this in the same way another trained Force-user could.  His support means the galaxy, but through Rey we see that a Jedi needs to have themselves or their emotions under control, because you can be an amazing person, you can be a kind and deeply caring person, and still in your anger and desperation to save someone you can RIP A SHIP APART BECAUSE YOU GOT SO ANGRY THAT YOU SHOT LIGHTNING FROM YOUR HANDS. This in the same week as seeing Baby Yoda Force-choke a person because either he thought he was playing or because he got REAL MAD that someone was trying to hurt his dad, it shows that you can be this incredibly kind, compassionate person, but if you don’t have your shit on lockdown, you can really hurt people and yourself.  And given the similar Force-healing scenes, it’s not in doubt for me that the themes of “good person not having the training to resist the dark side so easily” is also a deliberate parallel.  It’s Ezra with the fyrnocks all over again.  The consistency of showing that, without the Jedi Order there to help train people, you see why the Jedi did everything they did and that they were the ones who did have their shit under control--well, with that one important exception who George Lucas was always clear about how he didn’t want to accept Jedi philosophy. I love that we see it playing out through Rey, that she has all these normal feelings of anger and frustration and desperation, that that’s her story.  The Rise of Skywalker is unquestionably REY’S STORY more than it is anything else, that all the other characters are largely there to support her journey, and that that journey is one of finally being ready to confront the dark parts of herself. And that is when she connects with the Jedi of the past. That is when she becomes a Jedi in a way no one can deny. I love that her taking the step forward spiritually, confronting her fear and letting it go, that is when she hears the voices of the Jedi Order, like, yes, that is what she was missing to bridge that gap with them, that is the entire theme that she needed to complete, showing that it was their theme, too, that they are explicitly narratively connected to her facing her fears and moving beyond them, and UGH I LOVE THE JEDI AND I LOVE REY AND SHE IS THEIR LEGACY AND THEIR FUTURE AND SHE MEANS SO MUCH TO ME.

[sir-huffman]

tagged by: @songzhong​ (hello, here’s a wall of text, and I enjoyed reading about you Mao!) tagging: @you on the dash - aka you see this you’re tagged.

———  BASICS!​

Name: Duke ( any pronouns, but most use masculine  )

Face Claims:       - Itsuki Kamiyama from GOTH (professional like above)       - Suga from Night of Drizzling Rain (general)

———  THREE  FACTS!

1) I am an ISTJ and a Taurus...so take that what you will. I’d like to say I’m friendly, but tend to put a very large wall (of text) up so people know what they’re getting into with me and to give an explanation for my actions...as such I am very introverted and only have so much energy for interaction. This leaves me seldom to contact people in the RPC unless I have a specific idea in mind for our muses...which honestly I never do. The best is for me to just chuck a meme at people and see how our muses vibe. After that, well uh...yeah. I’m one of those RPers who have more people I interact IC than OOC cuz OOC interaction takes a lot out of me unless we somehow vibe well.

And by vibe well, I mean our muses generally interact well and aren’t apathetic towards each other. There are so many muns that I respect and consider friends and admire from afar, but we’re not close due to just our muses just not vibing as well as others (which is totes fine it’s just how things sometimes go, ya know?).

( you’ll find that I write a lot hence the read more )

2) I am very stubborn and have a little bit of tunnel vision in my own HCs and world crafting. My muses tend to be people who hold an authoritative and demanding presence where their opinions are stated as truth...which is the complete opposite of my own personality. But I’ve learned that I have to kinda draw my lines and I feel like I can probably give people whiplash between my timid and nervous nature and when it comes to defining my muses. Honestly I’m just very flexible with molding my muses to help fit for interaction, but I do have hard lines and like to make it clear if I’m bending my characters vs how they would naturally act...I tend to make my muses push overs unless I’m like 100% comfy...and even them I make them push overs...hence the amount of my crack threads because I have no sense control and just wanna have fun...with my tight assed muses.

3) That said...I’m just a meme. My main reputation is just being that one mun who RPs a Team Rocket OC with 6 Magikarps. But I truly just have two sides. The very crackish side where (1) I’ll just throw our muses in ridiculous situations and (2) the very angst heavy side that usually only talked about due to my muses handling trauma and very apathetic and nonchalant towards breaking hearts. And as I write this out I feel like I’m giving people whiplash on whoever is reading this since they see Huffman here and is like “oh, how cute what a soft boy” and then I bring up Morax who is just a monstrosity of a muse where I’m toning him down 99% of the time because...well...(*looks at hands*) he’ll end up killing a muse 99% of the time if I don’t stop him and that isn’t fun to RP.

———  EXPERIENCE!

My first experience in RPing in general was on an old website called TinierMe and also a mobile app called VampiresLIVE (lol). However I officially started RPing on Tumblr in 2014 as a Gijinka!Groudon blog originally known as theruleroftheland. After that I’ve slowly branched out of the Pokemon RPC but hold a strong connection with the friends I’ve made there (or kinda, I’m horrible at keeping contact with others since I disappear for months/years at a time). But I’ve found I’m most comfortable writing on tumblr due to the amount of formatting and organization that comes with RPing on here.

I’m slowly branching out to Discord (thank you to my dear RP partners over there who are patient with me because I’m slow) and becoming more accustom with being social over there.

———  MUSE  PREFERENCE!

Gender: 100% male to RP as. I find that I gravitate towards males since I have disconnection with male muses from myself and I like having that wall. Writing females get a little too personal for my own comfort so having that extra layer of distance really helps. Also it helps me look at things differently.

Multi or Single: 

I prefer single-muse blogs to run as I like keeping things strictly relating to my muse on one blog and another muse on another. Over the years I’ve been interested in throwing my old muses onto a multi-muse blog but honestly I can never bring myself making a multi-fandom multi-muse blog due to my own heavy need for organization.

As for shipping, I work under what I call a Quasi-Single shipping (aka multi- and single- ship). I operate under the impression that my muses are in an overarching timeline of their life that is heavily affected by their relationships. As such the MULTISHIP aspect is prone to have cheating and relationship overlap. I’m into having muses naturally engage in threesomes, foursomes, lying, cheating, misunderstandings, fights, break ups, get back togethers, etc. with all muses and muns participating together in the joy of it all. Jealousy and questioning of my muses’ relationships and actions are welcomed as I like having the sense that my muses are human and things aren’t so cookie cutter.

That said I am also SINGLESHIP in the sense that most of my muses are not polyamorous and are very much interested in having an end goal relationship where they settle down and marry. With who and how that happens really depends on both my muse and my partner’s muse. So whoever my muse is really shooting to get married to and actively advances will be my main single ship partner...or really whoever is going to influence my muse the most and I can see my muse actually yearning for (which honestly isn’t that many muses *cries*).

That said...Huffman in particular is going to be really hard to single-ship with as he is 100% dedicated his entire life to his lord and savior Lord Barbatos and this is the thanks he gets to Mondstadt and he will betray his own lover and such for Mondstadt.

He is also a(ego)romantic so he has a huge disconnection with serious relationships as he will honestly treat them just like he treats every other citizen in Mondstadt and it can slowly get to any of his partners since he just thinks is just apart of his job as a partner...which is the same job he has with the people of Mondstadt.

fluff/angst/smut:

Fluff: Generally I don’t find myself interested in fluff, but I realized that is only because of my previous muses couldn’t handle fluff at all. For this particular blog (Huffman) fluff is honestly the only thing that I can offer due to the nature of his character. Fluff with the undertone of angst is going to happen a lot, it’s not going to be sugary sweet fluff but just a result of Huffman’s very grounded and relaxed nature. He is calm and level headed, very rational (a little too rational) and very determined to make sure everyone is happy...and as such angst won’t really happen because Huffman tries to avoid such things naturally.

Angst: I enjoy angst, I’m that person who loves crying and my favorite tropes (especially in shipping) is unrequited love especially when it’s with a character who has so much love and dedication to one person. As such, I find that I’m more inclined to talk about angst than actually RPing it. I’m very slow (really really slow) when it comes to RPing unless it’s crack or relaxed banter. So when it comes to angst, I like to set time aside and fully write it out...making me having to respond weeks to months later...haha sorry. Also I naturally have muses who are apathetic towards angst and other muses feelings that is hard for me to write because I’m the opposite and I get heavily invested...it takes a lot out of me.

That said...most of my angst comes from very slow burns rather than actually writing it out. It’s more of the anticipation of the heartache, breakup, betrayal, cheating, etc. that I’m more inclined to talk about than actually RP...as stated above my muses are generally cold hearted and very accepting of any consequence to their actions...they tend to be planners and expect karma to creep up on them someday.

Smut: I am very particular about smut. I personally like talking about it but actually writing it takes a lot more time for me to do. There are some words that I refuse to write (which happens to be a lot of the smutty words lol) due to how I read them in my head irks me and doesn’t flow right (my worst subject in school was English so I don’t know many words okay). As such, it takes time for me to fully write smut and even then the way I tackle it is very action oriented rather than immersive (I like to think) so uh...RIP my rp partners who want to write smut since I usually respond when I’m half asleep and have no filter and probably stare at me like “wtf did I just read?”. I’m sorry my smut partners who have to deal with me.

plot/ memes:

Memes: I’m more inclined to send memes than actually get around to responding to them. I like keeping my thread count low because I’m slow and usually memes require immediate interaction (something that I may or may not have the time for). However, most of my threads come from memes that will fizzle out over time and I eventually drop without warning- it just how it goes.

Plots: I like plotting and defining pre-established relationships. Having to start everyone off with a blank slate isn’t something I like unless it just seems natural for our muses (ie. for Huffman he probs doesn’t know many Liyue characters, but he definitely is close to Mondstadt characters at least on a name basis). As such, I tend to like establishing relationships and then going from there so I know how Huffman will interact with them.

Plotted threads, however, take a lot out of me as I like coining an idea and then having a starter be written and then go from there. If there are checkpoints to happen, I get awkward because my muses are 95% certain to shift the narrative based on what is being written and the situation that arises. So heavily plotted threads isn’t good, but defining the trajectory of a relationship is something I’m down for...mostly because I’m a quasi-single ship and 99% of my muses relationships are going to fail naturally - which is something hard to bring up when there is ship talking happen.