#and means a lot to you and really inspires you

[chrissshub]

KAMA SUTRA SESSIONS!

°❀°•༢ ❥ SYNOPSIS: When you get an appointment from a passing athlete who wants to better his game with women, who's better to answer the call than the resident sęx therapist?

°❀°•༢ ❥ CW: 8.7k words, told in first person, sẽx therapist!fem!reader, post timeskip!ushijima, not mentioned but ages are both 26, use of an oc, dialogue-heavy, pwp, peņetration, cunnilīngus, fiňgering, sqûirting, implied size difference, unprotected

°❀°•༢ ❥ DEAR READER, FROM CHRIS: So this was inspired by my most recent field of study: s*x and the kama sutra. and from my research and thinking "hm, who would have an interest in this?" is how this fic came to be. hope you enjoy!

In the life as a sex therapist, there’s some things that you hear, see, and even experience that add years to the career. 

 At first, I thought it was going to be a failed business move, considering that sex is seen as a taboo topic by some. I mean, it’s a process as natural as birth but people shame it with such strong resentment…like it’s an unimaginable evil that’s ruining the world.

I couldn’t help but to think my discouragement was properly placed. I was in a town with families, retirees, no one that would really need my advice.

That “failed business move” of a thought lasted all of a week. 

Thanks to the small pickett signs I personally had made and placed around the office building’s parking lot and nearby plazas, I had clients booking with me by the hour. 

Couples of all ages—some married, some divorced, many singles, even polyamorous groupings contacted my office. 

When people heard of a new sex therapist entering the area and started booking sessions with me, I could only wish to know what was going through their minds.

I’ve dealt with teary confessions about how wives have lost attraction for their husbands, husbands who come to terms with the fact that they don’t know how to please their wives. I’ve even gotten singles who’ve come in just to make sure they still know how to perform in the bedroom. 

In these past four years, I’ve learned that just because people shun the idea of sex and sexual education during the day, they’ll come on their hands and knees at night. It’s been an interesting ride, but I can proudly say that I’ve helped many people in the area rekindle their sparkle and to finally achieve their goals with their partners.

The days I’ve spent at the office were nothing short of fulfilling—and today was supposed to be like no other.

Supposed to, of course.

My day started out like normal; waking up in my bed with my eyes fluttering open. The first thing I settled my hazy squint  onto was the rays of sunlight peeking through my creme shutters, begging to illuminate my room. 

I pried my hand from underneath my pillow to grab my phone off on my bedside table, the screen greeting me with a single message: 

(1) VOICEMAIL FROM: Hana

Hana, my cheeky, bright-eyed, receptionist. She joined me when she was a freshman at the local community college, just taking classes until she figured out what she wanted to do with her life. Fast-forward to today, she’s a fresh graduate with a bachelors in psychology. 

She’s taken it upon herself to call her around 6 A.M every day with a debrief of the day ahead. When I asked her why she does it, the sweet girl simply told me the extra effort was the least she could do. 

Since then, I’ve bumped her pay high enough so that she can support herself by herself and haven’t pressed the topic a vowel further.

With my debriefing at hand, I sat up in my bed, sleep still lingering behind my eyelids. I have half a mind to cancel whatever appointments I have today and sleep just for an hour more. But when I looked down at the time on my screen, it was a reality I knew I couldn’t afford.

9:00 A.M.

My office opened in an hour and my first appointment always starts at 10:30…bless me.

“Okay, Hana, let’s see what you have for me,” I mumbled as I clicked on the awaiting tab. 

As my thumb pressed the play button, Hana’s voice instantly became my background noise for my morning routine—which began in the bathroom for a shower.

“‘Morning, Y/N! Hope you slept well! I have good news and bad news for you. And no, I can’t give you the bad news first because it’s intertwined with the good news. So for starters, you have a light day—one appointment! Bad news…and this is a first for us…this client booked you for a few hours.”

“Hours?!? What the fu—“

Just hearing that made me pop my head from behind the glass shower door. Clients usually meet with me for an hour, an hour and a half if needed but hours???

“I know exactly what you’re thinking because…what the fuck?? But when I explain more about him, I think you’ll be impressed.”

“Okay, you’ve got a bit of a celebrity on your hands today. This one is Ushijima Wakatoshi. He’s 26, a player for the Schweiden Alders…a professional volleyball team. He’s playing a game against our national team and is gonna be in town for a few days. He booked with you because, and this is in his words, he says that he’s a little “awkward in the realm of love and wants to improve his social skills and….intimate skills.” He also sent over test results…he’s clean, just to let you know . So…have fun with this one!”

And just like that, Hana’s cheery voice was reduced to naught, melding with the stillness of my bathroom. 

I turned off the water, standing in a foggy haze. There was only one thought in my mind: 

Well then, Ushijima Wakatoshi…let’s start the day together right.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

“Hana! Oh my sweet flower, I brought your favorite♪!” I sang, entering through the office’s  front door.

Hana lifted her head from behind the monitor, her bright smile complementing my own. 

“An omlettle with cheese and hash browns on the side?!?” She squealed, jumping from her seat. 

“Mhm! Enjoy!”

Before I could take a step further, Hana ran to greet me with a hug, her curly black hair dusting along my chest. 

“Thank you, Thank you!” She cheered, stepping back from me. She quickly took the stuffed brown bag from my hands before returning to her desk. 

With a fading grin, I turned my attention down towards my top, a fitted rose dress shirt with just a few top buttons left undone. I wiped a few wrinkles away, shifting my attention down to my  black pressed slacks that didn't face the same fate. 

Still just as fresh and clean as when I left my apartment.

“So,” I began as I walked towards Hana. “How much do I have before our guest checks in?”

“Mmm, about 20. But Y/N…he’s so hot! I looked him up and wow! Like…I’m kinda confused how he’s having issues with girls. I’m sure the women at his matches throw themselves at him,” Hana gushed between a bite of her omelette.

I leaned against the rim of the desk, resting my red leather purse and my hips along the surface.

“Oh, you know how it goes. Looks can get you far, but it’s your words and actions that determine your success. I bet he does look good, but he probably needs more work on his confidence.”

“Ah, true. Well, you go tidy up your office and I’ll run the vacuum out here in a few,” Hana said, her hand shooing me away.

I grabbed my bag and giggled, “Okay, okay! But—“

I couldn’t even finish my thought when the front door tolled open, gaining a stare out of Hana and me.

“Um…excuse me…I’m here for Dr. L/N. I have an appointment at 10:30, but I just wanted to show up a little early,” the deep voice announced.

I turned my head to meet the owner behind such a voice, just for my eyes to be stunned at the sight.

A man, a tall one at that. He stood in the middle of the office with a straight face, staring back at Hana and I. His hair was a shade of brown unique to him only, brushed back to reveal his entire face. His features were strong—his jawline sharp, his cheekbones high, brows trimmed and clean,  his eyes glimmering like that of a polished citrine gem. 

Hana was right…he really was something to marvel at.

He stood with his hands behind his back, impassively waiting for someone to reply—or not, he really seemed unbothered.

I didn’t even need to guess what his physique could be underneath such proper garb. Those  muscles weren’t shy of peeking  beneath the navy suit he wore. The white dress shirt beneath was crisp, and no tie was in sight —which I guess is casual to him.

I bit my lip softly, I’ve never been intimidated by a man before, but this one made my face swell with a wafting heat. So this is Ushijima Wakatoshi…the name fits him perfectly.

Nonetheless, I had a job to do.

I rolled my shoulders back and began a few short steps towards him, the click of my heels slienced against the plush sage green carpet. 

There I was, standing before him. My height met him just beneath his collar—and that’s thanks to my heels. I held my hand out to him, my glossed lips curling into a rich smile. 

“Mr. Ushijima, it’s so nice to meet you! I’m Dr. L/N, but Y/N works just fine. This is Hana, my lovely receptionist.”

His hand was rough and worked, but slid against my palm like butter, his warmth melding into my touch. His thumb sat past my own, the rough pad swiping ever so softly along my skin. When my eyes finally eased from their shared smile as my lips, I couldn’t look away from him. 

His own gaze was captivating, almost entrapping me in a trace of just him and I. I watched as his lips curled into a faint smile, a brief flash of white meeting my eyes.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s wonderful to meet you! Please, feel free to call me Ushijima or Wakatoshi! I’ve been waiting for this appointment for a while now.. 

He broke away from our contact to give his attention to Hana, waving to her with his other hand.

“And it’s nice to meet you too, Hana! Thank you for your hard work!”

I didn’t need to look back to know the look on Hana’s face: she’s a flustered mess with her tongue  caught in a shudder.

“O-Oh…thanks, sir! It’s not without Y/N, though. I c-can tell you that you’ll be in…great hands!.”

Ushijima turned his sights back towards me, that muted curl of his lips growing into a full-bodied smile at last. 

“I sure hope so.”

I gave Ushijima one last smile before taking my hand away from his, my hands clasping together. 

“Let’s begin! I’ll bring you back and we’ll get on,” I announced, turning away from Ushijima. 

As I passed by the desk, I grabbed my bag and gave Hana a swift smirk, one she returned with a wink. 

Ushijima and I descended down the hall until we arrived to a room a door down from my office, room 165.

I turned the doorknob as I leaned against the white door, “Come on in.”

Ushijima nodded as he passed me, the faint scent of his cologne whisked past my nose. It’s rich—bergamot, some sage, amber, and even a hint of vanilla. That’s a good mix, and his body isn’t rejecting it, a man who knows his signature scent is a rare one these days.

The room I bought us to was of decent size—about the size of a child’s bedroom. The walls were handpainted by Hana and I some years ago, a soft peach with white carpeting. The furniture was all espresso colored, from the two leather seats that faced one another, the coffee table between the two, and the bookshelf that stood against the window.

It was a pretty comfy room, one that many current and past clients raved about. 

“Pick your side and get comfortable, we’re gonna be here awhile,” I teased, closing the door behind me. 

“I must apologize for that. I heard about you some time ago during a tournament and I’ve always wanted to have a sit down with you. And since I don’t come to the States often, I thought it was best to have an ample amount of time with you,” Ushijima confessed as he settled into the leather arm chair.

I followed suit, placing my bag onto the table as I sank into the seat. 

“Oh, don’t apologize! You’re actually my only client today, so we can take up all day if need be. I want you to leave here confident and more sure of yourself. Which brings me to my first question…”

I folded my legs over one other, resting my hands within my lap. My eyes settled over Ushijima, not with the same set that marveled at him just minutes before. This time, I excused his attraction for purpose, preparing myself to ask the timeless question:

“What brings you in today?”

Ushijima brought himself to sit up in his seat, his large hands drifting to brace his clothed thigh.

“Well, put shortly—I wanna get better with women. I can’t talk to them, and then I see my teammates—they can strike up a conversation with them so easily. And women do talk to me, but it’s just not…oh how can I put this…with substance?”

“What do women say to you?” I asked, leaning back into the couch.

“Just talk about my looks, or how impressed they are. I’ve heard it one too many times, it gets tiring. I know they’re just trying to make conversation with me by complimenting me, but those things just bore me. My teammates love that kind of attention, but it all seems pointless to me.”

“And why is that?”

“Because,” Ushijima sighed. “It’s just going to go nowhere. I’m not into hooking up, the thought bores me honestly. I mean, I feel that you don’t get the best of someone after one night, especially if your goal is just sex.”

“So then Ushijima—”

“Wakatoshi…please call me, Wakatoshi,” Ushijima intervened, a feeble smile creeping onto his face.

“Okay…Wakatoshi, call me Y/N. Doctor is just too formal for me,” I added. “But it still begs the question, Wakatoshi: What are you looking for?”

“As in my romantic goals or my type?” 

“Both work perfectly! Your interests do tie into your romantic goals,” I informed him.

Now, it’s so unbecoming of me to ask a client what their type is…but Ushijima is such a special case that I’ll overlook just this once.

After posing the question to him, Ushijima took a moment of silence to ponder, his eyes narrowing down on me.

“My type is…smart. Really smart. A put together woman with a good sense of humor. I’m more on the rigid side but I do appreciate a woman who can find joy in things. Her beauty goes without saying, so basically—a woman of substance.”

“Okay, sounds—

“What’s your type?”

Just the query to catch me off my guard…and pique my interest. In all my years, I’ve never had a client return any of my questions to me; I didn’t think Ushijima would be the first. 

My cheeks flickered with heat, but I found comfort within the moment by biting my tongue softly. My eyes were pinned on him, Ushijima still wearing that blank yet firm expression on his face— neutral eyes, brows stilled and his mouth free of any curl or twitch.

Just a peaceful face behind a stinging question.

“I don’t see how that matters…?” I said, staring at Ushijima through a razor-sharp squint.

“But it does matter. It’s not a hard question unless you make it one,” he continued. “What’s your type of man, Y/N? It’d be nice to know, since we’re gonna be here awhile together.”

A grin perked up onto his lips, the cracks of pearly white teeth breaking onto the scene.

 “Can’t I ask you some questions too?”

My lips broke apart between a brewing sigh, the tip of my tongue pressed against the gummy flesh of my cheek. I can’t deny him to be honest, we are stuck here for some time, and this session couldn’t continued as a one sided conversation forever.

“Alright, my type…my type…. I like a tall man, a nice athletic build, keeps himself well kept. As far as personality: smart, kind, respectful, responsible, and thoughtful. Thoughtfulness, however, is a big one for me. It’s nice to know you mean so much to someone that they would take actions out of that place of love. That’s quite admirable in my eyes.”

There was an air of silence between Ushijima and I. He sat still and I did the same. Our eyes hadn’t broken from each other either, yet the softening hues of olive green made me feel calm beneath Ushijima’s gaze. 

But this was an appointment, not a staring contest. I was the first to break the silence.

“A-hem..Um… well, I digress, let’s continue,” I choked out. 

I broke the eye contact Ushijima and I worked so hard to maintain with a simple blink, searching for the next territory of topic to enter. 

“So where did we—talked about types…but that’s not exactly helpful in the slightest. I know you wanted to address conversation too, but can you explain a little bit more?”

Ushijima nodded calmly, but that wasn’t all I got from him. Vunerabilty was one hell of a feeling, and it dusted the highs of his cheeks red. And as his skin began to run hot, Ushijima himself grew antsy, his hand coming to rub at  the nape of his neck. 

But…it was cute to me. The emotions I see on a daily basis are pride, sadness, anger—but embarrassment is a rare one that I can always appreciate. 

 “I…I don’t know how to flirt. It’s always awkward and I honestly feel stupid,” he mumbled, his stare pinned down at his pants. 

“I hear you,” I consoled, a faint smile crowding at my lips.

“It’s such an unspoken realm that everyone is expected to know how to do but with no explanation. Flirting is something that is also unique to each person. It  can be acts of kindness, giving compliments,—or the complete opposite. Some people like to tease, play rough, or even act cold as a form of flirting.”

Ushijima followed along with me, nodding his head every so often. 

“So then, what is the best way of flirting?” He asked.

“Well, I can’t say. —

“Let me rephrase,” He interjected. “What would a man have to do or say to you in order for you to be interested in him?”

“Wit.”

“Wit?”

“Yeah, I love witty, intelligent conversations. It could be anything and I’ll find interest in it. Just being able to express your intelligence to me—whether it be on topic you know or asking questions, I love it all. I guess to keep it short, the mind and how a man expresses his knowledge is what gets me interested.”

The presence of a faint grin lit up Ushijima’s face.

“That’s what it takes, hm…”

An air of enticement bled into the room and it shamefully claimed me as its victim. I’ll admit, I’ve never had a client as interesting as Ushijima. Aside from his genuine intrigue about sex and the ways of courting, he seems to have something more on his mind—and I wanted to know every single detail. But he plays along too well, thanks to that blank expression he wears so proudly. But he slipped up with that damn grin, now it’s my turn to play the next hand. 

I placed my hand on the open cushion beside me, the tips of my fingers drumming along the leather surface.

“Come sit, let’s do an exercise…just so it really sinks in. Maybe you’ll be able to use this as reference for the next lady that catches your eye.”

And just like that, Ushijima was swift to oblige. I was hooked on the sight of him standing from his seat, his hand toying with the buttons of his blazer. The white dress shirt he wore was finally revealed to me, the subtle hints of his muscular frame peeking through. 

His steps were calm and controlled, carefully trudging around the glass coffee table. Ushijima held himself with a confidence unmatched to any man I’ve met thus far. He was interesting to observe, and even more fun to tease. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in seeing how far we could go, all kinds of thoughts were plaguing my mind. 

As he stood over me,  I had to bite back a smile, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip. 

This was turning out to be an interesting session, after all.

Ushijima placed himself on the couch at an arm’s length away, leaving an untasteful gap amongst us. Yet when my eyes had fallen on his stoic face, the man’s fair skin was budding with the innocence of pink. 

“Well don’t be shy, Wakatoshi,” I cooed. My hand patted at the spot just beside my thigh, hinting for him to move closer. 

“We are here together for quite some time, might as well get…a little close.”

With a firm nod, Ushjima bridged the gap between strangers to acquanitances among us, his body now resting snug at my side. He had yet to face me, as if he was embarrassed to do. I noticed that he kept his hands in his lap, his digits nervously fiddling around. 

I reached over to his hand, softly grazing along the back of his hand to ease his worries.

“Ushijima? You ready? We don’t have to do this, if you’re not comfortable—”

“No, let’s do it,” he huffed, his body turned towards me. “What kind of exercise are we doing?” He asked, turning his body to face me.

“Great! For the exercise, let’s pretend we’re meeting at…oh, I dunno, a bar. Do your best to try and ask me out on a date.”

“Um…Y/N…you do realize that the fact that I can’t ask anyone on a date is why we’re here, right?”

“Yes…I do, thank you for that. Use your imagination—a bar has ambiance lighting, soft music, drinks on rotation, play on the environment, and make a good impression, okay?”

Ushijima sat in silence for a moment, his eyes narrowing as the seconds passed. I could assume that he was thinking—really thinking at that. 

I almost pulled into my own daze of boredom, the color of the walls catching my eye—until the quiet mumble of his voice broke the stilled air. 

“Well…what do you drink at a bar?”

I tucked my leg beneath me as I shifted myself to give Ushijima my full and undivided attention. He mirrored me, turning so that we were both facing one another. Yet again, our eyes locked, unwilling to falter from the view we had of one another.

“I usually go for a glass of wine, I’m not a fan of heavy liquor.”

“Wine’s a good choice. Are you someone who pairs wine with food?”

I shook my head, “Not really. But, I do know that red wine goes best with some fruits, chocolate, and steak. Rosé goes best with grilled vegetables or salmon, and white is the best of both worlds.”

“Oh really?” Ushijima hummed. “I never realized wine could be so specific. Since you know so much, why not put your knowledge to the test?”

“And how are we gonna do that?”

A soft smile grew across Ushijima’s lips. He seemed to relax a bit–his shoulders laxed, his side now resting against the couch’s back cushions, he even shifted a bit closer to me too; all of which made me ease up too. I wasn’t feeling as guilty as I was before–if anything, I was pleased with the way our exercise was going.

Ushijima has such a nice, easy voice that greets the ear so kindly, and his eyes were just so alluring to stare into, I could sit here for hours just watching how his moss green hues catch the light of every hour. Not to mention that the scent of his cologne was finally welcomed into the scene, just wafting past my nose every so often. 

He had all the making of an ideal guy, so why isn’t he–

“I know a place near here, a nice restaurant with a wine cellar in the basement,” he led on. “ They have collections that date back years, and from what I know, the darker the wine, the richer…no, the sweeter it drips on the tongue. I’d like to hear your thoughts in a…professional setting, if you may.”

“I’d like that,” I nodded, a curling grin consuming my senses. “I’m sure you’d have some thoughts to tell me too.”

Ushijima shrugged, his hand coming to brace the pulse of his neck. “Honestly, there’s a lot on my mind I could tell you so much right now, but then…well…we might not make it to the restaurant. And I’m just dying to pour you a glass of wine, so…for now I’ll be paitent.”

I pushed my lips into a wading pout. I could feel my eyes softening beneath his gaze. He could find the time to tease me back while flustered like this…interesting.

“And what if I don’t have the same patience?” I pried, a sly smirk pressed onto my lips.

That’s when Ushijima sealed the end of our improv scene, bringing his hull of a body to overshadow my own. His lips came to fill the shell of my ear with an esteemed chuckle. His breath painted against my skin, awakening my nerves to greet him. I was helpless, at his every whim—and not a fiber in me wanted it any other way. 

“Then I’ll just have to tease you ‘til you break…right?”

He drew himself back gradually, our dilated eyes catching sight of each other once more. I was at a loss for words, my lips agape beneath the heat of shock.  At that moment, all I could think about what would follow—his lips crashing into mine, his hands bracing every curve of my body. I wanted to be under him, to have to stare up into those eyes to plead for relief from the stirring heat flaring about my body. 

But then again, this isn’t some magic fairytale…it’s an appointment.

“How was that?” He asked, his words breaking my sinful chain of thought. 

“Good,” I complimented, hiding my roused thoughts behind a smile. “You’ll most definitely get a date like that.”

“Well, I might have gotten the date, but I wanna be able to…y’know…”

“To what, Ushijima? You gotta be a little more clear than that,” I smirked. 

His skin began to flush itself of its tan shade in lieu of the trickles of rose dotting the highs of his cheek. 

“To…please a woman.”

“Please? Like…please and thank you? I hate speaking in code…especially in a professional setting.” I continued to press. 

If I had known he was so shy towards the topic of sex earlier, then we would’ve been able to ease into it. But for him to tease me like that…it’s only fair I return the gracious favor.

Ushijima’s eyes shot wide, a gasp breaking his lips apart. He was reluctant, but he gave in, biting at his bottom lip.

“Fine…I wanna know how to be good at sex…happy?”

“Oh, well to be good at sex is just the same as being a good lover. And I can show you how with this…" I trailed off.

 I quickly rose from my spot on the couch, setting my sights on my bookcase. A few steps brought in front of the shelved plethora of knowledge, eyes searching for the spine of the book needed for the moment.

"Ah! Here we are," my hand plucking out the book from its peers. 

“This…is the Kama Sutra. It’s an ancient Indian text written by the Hindu philosopher, Vātsyāyana Mallanaga; that explains how both men and women can lead rich sexual and social lifestyles. The Kama Sutra has become associated with sex positions over the years, but it doesn’t make it a heavy presence within the book.”

I returned to Ushijima’s side, seating myself beside him with the book in tow. I rested the Kama Sutra on his lap, allowing him to absorb the famed text. I watched as his eyes flitted about the cover, tracing every word to be found.

“Wanna flip through it?” I suggested, softly tugging at the book cover. 

“Yeah,” Ushijima nodded. “I’m interested.”

From the moment I opened the book, Ushijima and I were bound by the knowledge of the old world. The pages were written in english, yet the message was something that transcended all known languages. I went on to explain to him how the kama sutra devled into how sex between two lovers should be enjoyable for everyone, and how the pleasure of the woman would lead to ultimate satisfaction for both parties.

Though I’ve read it before for papers, presentations, and even for my dissertation, reading it with Ushijima was an experience that struck the strings of my heart in a special way. 

Maybe it was becasue he expressed a genuine interest in the questions he asked. Or maybe it was the cute reactions he made when things finally clicked. Or maybe it was the plain fact that I had someone beside me to read it with for once. 

From time to time, I took a few moments to study Ushijima’s reaction to his answered questions. He would blink a few times, as though he had to internalize all of what was said. Then, he’d peered over to me with a smile curling up the corners of his mouth.

Our chase of knowledge led us to the chapter on positions, the page’s title calling for Ushijima’s attention to be riled. 

“This chapter looks short. Where are the positions?”

“Well, the Kama Sutra actually doesn’t have any positions, it gives advice on how to select and personalize positions between lovers.”

“Huh,” he huffed. “…and what does that look like?

“Want me to show you?”

A blanket of silence fell over him, and he’s back to wearing that blank, sedated look on his face.

Damn, was that too strong? It was a little forward but I know it’s nothing—

“If it’s not too much…I’d be honored.”

“Well, then,” I grinned as I placed the book atop of the glass tabletop. “Let’s get started.”

Ushijima’s hand nuzzled along my waist, guiding me  over his lap to straddle him.

“You can just sit right on me, I think we’re getting a little closer, yeah?”

“I think we are, but we can get closer too, y’know.”

“And can we do that?” 

With that burning question of his, I was forced to bear the weight of what lust looks in his eyes—his pupils dilating, his eyelids growing heavy, and a mischievous smirk tracing his lips. 

“Do you wanna be on top?” I quizzed, toying with the top button of his dress shirt.

“Well I’m just here to observe, so I think you should be on top,” he said, leaning back against the couch. He brought me down with him, his hands nestled along my lower back. Just like that, my chest was smothered against the tauntingly chiseled mass of his own. 

My hands languidly skimmed along the face of Ushijima’s shirt. He held still as my touch consumed him and his senses whole, his lungs coaxed into a steam of shaky shallow, breaths. 

“Y’know, we have to find a way to make this position our own, make sure we fit each other just right,” I hummed, draping my arms along his broad shoulders. I lowered myself further into his groin,  pressing up against something hard…and twitchy.

That’s when I felt it, a thick bulge nested right between Ushijima and I. 

Men are so easy, it’s so cute. 

That stoic face of his was cracking right before my eyes—his eyes screwed shut, lips stunning with a puffy pout, his cheeks brushed with the innocent hues of blush. He looked so lost in his own heat, desperately squirming for a remedy. 

“Oh my-fuck, Y/N. What do you want from me? I’ll do anything, just say the word!”

I brought my thumb to tug along the plush of Ushijima’s bottom lip, his glossed skin clinging to my touch.

“Aww, where’s the patience you had earlier? I thought you were gonna tease me? But seeing you like this…it’s a good look on you too, Wakatoshi.”

A gentle grin eased itself into Ushijima’s features, fueled by the same salacious nature dotting his eyes. His hold over me shifted, his hand slipping down to grasp at the thick curve of my ass. He even found the chance to snake his hand between us to cup at the underside of my thigh. He kept me near, forcing his chest to curl into mine as he sat up once more. 

“I can guarantee you one thing, Y/N.” Ushijima huffed, his heavy eyes peering up at me. 

“Oh, and what’s that?”

“After me, you won’t ever need another lover.”

My hazy stare fluttered between his eyes and his lips, capturing the sight of It was almost likat was all I needed to finally be sealed beneath his trance. And because of that, I was able to press a soft peck onto Ushijima’s lips, breaking away just to whisper words of encouragement for his racing mind to catch. 

“Then prove it.”

Sharing my spite, Ushijima’s lips bared one final smirk before crashing against my own. His kiss told me all I needed to know–soft, puffy, and clinging to my own. The supply curves of his lips caught every pushing tide I offered, ignithing a ravenous intent deep within us both. 

His hands roamed over my body, claiming every curve, every inch of me for his taking. It’s dizzying to have him like this, a nonchalant man turned hungry for every crumb to offer. He was getting restless, his hips bucking for friction all over again. 

Maybe I was so focused on how dumb his lips had driven me or his hands tracing my body like a sculpture to his sculpture, but how he managed to have me pinned beneath him and smothered into the leather cushion is a mystery to me alone, but I wasn’t about to complain. 

How could I when he smothered me beneath the thick of his chest, sending my head into a dizzied frenzy But with the way his lips carried such care to dance with mine was enough for me to forgive him for being so needy. The same needy–no, greedy nature made him take control without any room for debate, and I surely wasn’t planning on starting anything I couldn’t finish.

“Mm, Y/N?” He mumbled, breaking our kiss.

“Hm?"

“If I remember correctly, didn’t the book say I should make you cum a few times? Through your pleasure, I'll find mine right?"

"Look at you, guess you really are learning. I think it did...so what are we gonna do about that?"

I didn’t need to hear the words to know what he had planned. I lifted my hips to help him, his hands stripping me free of my pants. 

Ushijima slotted himself between the couch and the table, clutching at my waist from below. 

His arms hooked around my thighs, his hands resting within the crease of my thighs, his filled palms squeezing at the plush fat. He seemingly ignored the fact that my underwear—the most annoying fact to exist—was still on.

Until his fingers began to trace along the pink lace. Slowly, carefully, and lazily he dragged the pad of his digit all over my panties, feeding some new whim of his. 

I watched him for a while as he led with his own agenda. Until I couldn’t sit still without some answer. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Am I?” He retorted, his eyes darting to meet mine.

His touch burned with the thrill of tease as he gradually followed the edges towards the inseam of my panties. The pad of his middle finger was all he relied on as he carefully traced the puffy lips of my pussy. 

His finger sunk between my clothes lips, just for his discovery to be rewarded with the bud of my clit. That’s when Ushijima pinned his stare on me, antagonizing me into a game of endurance. 

Those aimless strokes turned into a series of sloppy circles, Ushijima claiming my clit as his latest victim in his game of taunts.

A whine cracked from behind my lips, something was stirring deep within me. He’s just teasing me but yet it was enough for my legs to tremble and my core to grow heavy with desire. How the fuck was he doing this to me?

A sigh from Ushijima broke my train of jumbled thoughts, bringing me back into the hellish scene. 

His breath fanned over the supple skin of my inner thigh, the heat inducing tremors to rake through my limbs. 

“Aw, I’m making a mess, “ Ushijima sighed. “Oh well.”

He drew himself back from me, fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt. He plucked his shirt open one button at a time, stopping just midway of his chest. 

I closed my legs, allowing him to tug my soaked pink pantiesf rom beneath me and off somewhere in the room. Ushijima returned to his post between my thighs—prying my legs apart for him to fill once again. His heavy arms curled around my thighs, his cheek nuzzled against the plumped skin. 

My face swelled with heat as he continued his marvels, his hand cupping my cunt. His thick fingers settled against my lips, spreading the fat supple mounds apart for him to see. 

“Oh, Y/N…” He mumbled, pulling my hips closer to his awaiting tongue. 

A scattered sigh tore out from Ushijima’s mouth, tickling my bare pussy with its heat. 

His heavy eyes were pinned to the raw sight he created of my pussy. I watched as his sights flickered over the scene, enticing his teeth to digging into his bottom lip. Determination painted his face with its fierce hues that it even fanned over to me. I’ve never had a man look at my cunt with such passion. It was enough for me to even succumb to the heat of it all. 

“Mm, fuck. Just lemme…” Ushijima trailed off mindlessly. 

Before he could even finish his thought, his lips were already busy with peppering kisses along my dewed folds. Kisses that were wet, sloppy and kiss carried the sweet, lewd cries of Ushijima coaxing my clit to join in his dance for two.

It’s filthy the way Ushijima works at my clit—his tongue lolls about my clit lazily, leaving glimmering soapy trails of spit to drip past my folds.

Every lash he delivers is a thoughtful one; the warm, soft flat of his tongue dragging against the puffy pearl, the sticky mess he’d made out of my clit clinging to the grooves of his tongue.

His lips are like velvet, left plump by the kisses we’d given on each just moments before. And to have those same luscious lips envelope my clit into a world that was nothing short of dizzying. 

Just the thought of his ministrations alone left my clit spry, the bundle of nerves twitching within the confines of Ushijima’s sloppy mouth. He busied himself with a soporific rhythm, suckling at the rathe bud just for kicks.

Ushijima peered at me through dilated pupils, those olive hues flickering all about my face. I couldn’t imagine the sight he had of me being committed to memory: puffy lips spilling with drool, close eyes screwed shut, and crude, whimsical curses ripping from my mouth. 

“Mmhm, talk to me, Angel. feels good?”

“Mm, yesyesyes! Oh fuck, just like that Ushijima!” my voice weakly keened. 

Awe glistened in my eyes as I watched him, mindlessly chasing an orgasm for my body to revel in. Yet, my drowsy lids were pinned to his jaw, bearing the weight of his hunger. Something came over me, a sense of adoration. So, I reached out to cup his jaw, grazing along what  worked so hard to pull an orgasm out of me. 

My thumb settled along the highs of his cheek, stroking at his flustered skin. He’s doing such a good job on my behalf, how couldn’t I thank him?

“Oh, that’s it. Y’re doing a good job, Ushijima,” I praised, sharing a weak grin. 

“Oh, I’m not done with you yet, pretty girl,” he chuckled softly.

In place of his lips, Ushijima brought a single digit nip at my entrance. He drew lazy circles around my slit, prepping me for what’s to come.

He’s gentle, easing barely half an inch of his digit inside. My walls grew lax for Ushijima, sucking  his long thick fingers to fill my pussy.

He made me so sensitive that just off that, I was whimpering out babbles to fall on no one’s ears in particular. Yet Ushijima still took heed to be kind with me.

“Shhh, just take me, baby. ‘m gonna go as slow as you want me to,” he assured. 

I didn’t feel his hand move from my thigh, but it did, reaching out for my own. Through my drunken senses, I managed to welcome his hand into mine, our fingers folding over one another.  

Bit by bit, Ushijima’s finger filled my gummy walls. He really was gentle, moving when my walls were lax and willing. He drove his finger to the hilt, only to slowly pull his digit back.

“Oh…fuckkk…s’ pretty,” he slurred, passing a glance back towards me. 

“Tell me where you want me.”

“Just curl your finger up--- oooh fuck!” I mewled, tossing my head back against the couch.

My hands followed suit, splitting away from Ushijima to grip along the couch’s frame behind my head. When I had Ushijima in my sights again, it wasn’t without a smug grin crowding his visage.

“So…is it here?” Ushijima asked, the pad of his digit lightly pulsing at my sweet spot.

“Mhm, right there. Just keep doing that.”

“Aww, Y/N, you shouldn’t have told me that—‘m gonna have fun with you now.”

Ushijima snickered as he returned to my clit, inviting the perked bud to melt over his tongue all over again. I trembled at the combined notions, sending an arch to overwhelm my spine.

“W-Wait, Ushi–That’s too much, ‘m already so close!”

Ushijima merely nodded, my words essentially falling onto deaf ears. Electricity licked all throughout my body, sending twitches to rattle my weak legs. I couldn’t take it, Ushijima’s finger toying with my sweet spot, he was setting me on course for the high of my life. 

“W-Wakatoshi! Toshi–fuck, ‘m cumming!” I cried, my lungs grasping for what air could enter. 

Ushijima’s finger plugged itself at my core, bringing a seizing crash to break over my body. Every ounce of me held firm, shivering to bear the weight of my chased high. My hips waved against the pad of his digit, riding out the end of my ecstasy off whatever friction would be found. 

Ushijima withdrew his finger from my cunt, leaving my poor hold  bare and gaping for something else to fill me. He brought that sullied digit straight to his mouth , sucking my honey off his fingers as he gleamed over me. Sporadic breaths chimed through the sex-stained air, my chest buckling to keep up with me.

“That’s a good girl,” Ushijima cooed. “Cumming so hard for me. Look at what you did to me.” 

Ushijima stood from my legs, his hand racing to grip at his crotch. And he was right—his pants were strained thanks to his bulge, the fabric just barely holding itself together.  But what caught my attention was the bubbly mess of precum foaming through his slacks. 

“Didn’t even touch me and you made me cum, should be proud,” he chuckled.”But that’s fine, we’re even…for now.”

“And what does that mean?” I asked, shifting myself to lay along the couch. 

“Let’s find out what I mean together.”

Ushijima quickly stripped himself of his clothes coaxing me to strip of whatever clothing was left on me as well. As he removed his clothing, my eyes hinged on his bare body—taut muscles highlighted his towering frame. He’s ribbed with strength chiseled to suit his build.

A thick trail of faint brown hair from his belly button guided down to the sight resting between his legs. He’s big, cock so heavy with lust that it needed no help to rise on its own. His cock was topped by a thick, fat reddened bulb, dribbling with glossy tears. His length was tanned, adorned with veins from the poor pressure building at his core. I watched as Ushijima settled himself between my legs, his dick slapping down against my tummy.

"See? Look how deep I'm gonna go," he smirked, his hand gripped at the base of his cock.

I laid my head on the couch’s armrest, lying in wait for Ushijima's next move. 

Ushijima placed his painfully hard cock to lay within my folds, my clit smothered beneath the weight. 

“I’m gonna go slow, okay?"

I nodded as I peered down to watch Ushijima nudged at my hole with the head of his cock, slowly prying my slit to greet his girth. 

“Fuh—pretty pussy’s taking me in already. Griping me s’ fucking tight,” Ushijima seethed, his hands griping along the couch’s cushions.  

My walls supplied Ushijima’s cock with gushing kisses, fluttering about his throbbing length. He kept working to bury himself to the hilt, dipping his hips to engulf my senses with nothing but him—his scent, his ardor, his fat bulbous heat fixated on  digging out my cunt.

“Y’re so big, Toshi! Fuck, go deeper!”

“Nuh uh, “Ushijima tutted as his eyes came to a screwed shut. “Don’t be so greedy, Baby. I got you, just…—shit—feel me, okay? His honeyed voice whimpered. 

I nodded softly, watching as Ushijima’s hips finally granted my wish. I couldn’t help but squeeze him in place, my walls fluttering around him. He was just so huge, filling out every inch of my pussy like it was nothing. My lashes grew heavy from the bubbling sear of tears lining my eyes. This pain—an intoxicating stretch sent me down a spiral of, being so full like this by Ushijima was something  I was enthralled by the feeling of being so full and stretched around him. 

Ushijima took notice too as he looked down at the unfolding scene. 

“Aw look, you took every inch! ‘m s-so…proud of you,” Ushijima huffed out. 

He leaned over me, pressing his chest flush against my own, resting his forehead within the crook of my neck. He brought his world crashing into mine, the heat of our bodies melding into one. I could even sense his heartbeat, thumping a languid aria into my skin. All I wanted to do was hold him, to have this moment last for as long as we could. But considering the throbbing mess he’d been reduced to, lust reigned over all other senses.

“I’m gonna start moving,” Ushijima mumbled into my dewed skin. “Just…talk to me, Princess. Just wanna see that face when you cum for me again…so fuckin’ bad.” 

He reeled his hips back weakly, striping my walls of the salacious fill of him. He drew himself just enough to have the tip just barely slipping from out of me, only for him to stuff every inch of him to the hilt. 

“T-Toshi! Ohmygosh!” I squealed, sending my hands to brace along the thick of his forearms. 

“I-I know. ‘m sorry! H-Here, gonna kiss it all better,” Ushijima groaned, his lips sloppily crashing into mine. 

Through all this, Ushijima’s hips rocked gently, working a cadence just for me. Slow yet deep allowed the red, weeping bulb of his cock to chip away at my need for dominance. Each reel of his cock enticed my walls to ease in his care, granting him to move that much quicker. 

And within those passing moments, the quiet squelches erupted into the lewd cymbals of clashing skin breaking into the air. Ushijima drove his cock to the hilt with ease. 

The same fate befell him, his quiet and restrained grunts now morphed into quivering sobs. His lips now dressed a heavy pout, dripping with his spit and carrying his weary words.

“Keep squeezing like that ‘nd I’m gonna cum."

“M-Me too, Toshi! I’m so close!”

I perched myself onto my elbows, urgent to close the valley left to exist between our two worked bodies. 

Not a word had to fall from my lawless tongue for Ushijima to soothe my wants. He leaned in, hunching over to blur our worlds into one. His hand snaked around to brace the nape of my neck, bestowing a gentle grip over me just to keep me close. He pressed his forehead flush against my own, beads of sweat dotting my skin.

Our lips remained poised in the heat of our budding passion, catching every whimsical babble we had to each other..

I couldn’t resist smothering him in a kiss, lazily catching every moan to ring from his chest. He was working so hard on my behalf, driving himself mad, sweaty, and depleted just to please me—oh, how lucky was I?

He broke away from our messy kiss, muttering some mantra that seemed to grasp his concern more.

He retreated back onto his haunches, pinning his sights on the messy canvas he’d made of my cunt. His thumb, the pad of his digit etching loose loops over the cherried pearl. 

I reached out to brace his wrist, pulling his hand to lay atop my tummy.

“Nuh uh, don’t wanna cum like that. J-just keep—fuck! Please don’t stop!” I sobbed, rolling my ensnared hips to match Ushijima’s tempo.

“Aww cumming already? Better make a mess or else I'm not stopping til you do.”

“Ooo-oh fuck, I-I  can make a mess! Just fr’ you.”

From that pledge Ushijima and I made, a fever dream broke out over the room. A dream fueled by sinful fervor that claimed any sense Ushijima and I had down to nothing. All we had on the brain was each other, doing our own part helping each meet our peaks.

As for me, he’s rendered me dumb and drunk over his cock, feeding my sweet spot with his deliciously thick girth. Dumb hiccuping babbles were all I could muster. My plushy walls were consumed by a familiar flutter, my inevitable high teetering on the edge.

“ToshiToshi, right there! I’m gonna—!" The word trapped itself within my throat, only to be replaced by a blubbering whimper.

A spell of heat licked at every nerve in my body. My eyes were sent rolling into the back of my head as my overwhelmed body coaxed my poor ruined cunt to weep,  a burst of tears gushing  over Ushijima’s flexed abdomen.  

“Good fucking girl, making a mess just like I asked. I wanna—fuck!—'m wanna cum with you too!”

The peak of my high left me just barely conscious, my eyes heavy with the sudden heft of fatigue. Through the thick gathering of my lashes, I gawked at Ushijima, his own nirvana finally crashing down around him. 

“Oh—‘m cumming! Y/N, I'm gonna cum!”

Ushijima trembled as his rutting hips came to a stuttering halt. He frantically ripped  himself from inside of me, the roused nerves of his cock sent into a twitching frenzy. Nuzzling the bulbous head along my inner thigh, the warm tears of white painted skin, followed by a clogged groan pouring from Ushijima’s gaping mouth. 

He collapsed on top of me, his lungs desperately heaving for air. I laced my arms around him, taking my digits through his unkempt hair as he came down. 

“Shhh, it’s okay, I got you. Just relax,” I hummed softly. 

Ushijima and I lay on that couch for a while longer, neither of us ready to move. As I combed through his hair, he kept a hand on my stomach, tapping away at some tempo to soothe himself. Just a quiet, peaceful reflection of the practices he and I had done.

He was right, I don't think I'll need another lover after that. My legs were practically useless, my throat sore, and my body was still reeling from the temors of my high. Even Ushijima still shivered from time to time. That moment was something straight out of a movie, calm, quiet, and filled with a growing fondness.

To my surprise, Ushijima was the first to break the silence with a question.

“So about our date, what time works—“

“Oh! You were serious about that?!” 

Ushijima nodded, “Well…yes. I know it was an exercise but I really wanted to take you out somewhere nice. And I actually do know a place around here with a huge wine cellar.”

 My head fell into a tilt as I studied Ushijima for a second. He’s back to his regular “stoic” self but this time every feature in his face was softened—his brows, his lips, his eyes; all carried a bout of sincerity. I simply had no heart to deny him, especially now knowing what kind of man he was in the face of rapture.

“Y’know what, Ushijima,” I purred as my hand reached to cup his cheek.

“I’d like that.”

TAGS: @po3ticb3auty @dabilovesme @ebiharachan @kenmasbimbo @pixelsanji @slaughterakira @woahhajime @pulchritxde-blog @hannas16 @champagnej @shuxjodie @just-yer-average-key @bontensbabygirl @tojitsukaisen @serenareiss @dejwrld @screampied @omniuravity @sweeneyblue1 @yukihime-mikeys-girl @kazusugar @missyasma @simpliheavenli @desiray562 @sleepilysworld @lovemegood @luvrdrop @nuttyunknowndetective-blog @tojibreedingme @widepipepaladiknight @nekoriots @rainycami @tonaken @holychocopie @bloobrryktty @hon3ybee-3 @dabis0bitch @your-next-daydream @mx-luvzz @akiko0-0 @whore02 @tojianddabisslut @dana-fite @downtownbabya @littlemochi @prettiestjade @luvvvjada @keijimilk

[vanteguccir]

Hey guys! I actually spent long minutes staring at these reblogs and debating whether it was worth responding and talking about or not. But as I'm not the type to take hate and keep quiet, I decided to talk about it.

First of all, Reia, you really seem like a person who doesn't read many fanfics for the way you put it in your text, so I'll explain the meaning of the word. Fanfic, short for "fan fiction", is a story written by a fan based on characters, universes, or real people (like the triplets). Fans create their own narratives, expanding or reimagining everything, creating their own version, which in real life does not exist OR, as writers, we often draw inspiration from real-life events too.

And yes, you and Evangeline are trying to be "fanfic police" and even "sturniolo police", if you scroll through the thousands of Sturniolo Triplets fanfics, you will come across A LOT where Matt, Nick or Chris go through situations of anxiety attack, panic attack, OR where the "reader" herself goes through this, sometimes even involving situations way worse than that. Furthermore, there's thousands of fanfics describing explicit sex scenes with them, the famous smuts, does that bother you too? Because in the world of someone who writes a FANFIC in here, it doesn't.

And yes, I was indeed writing about the meet and greet situation, and this was nothing new to ANYONE in the fandom WHO READS THE FANFICS HERE. I even made a post the day before ASKING who would like to read the idea, and you want to know the news? All 200 people who voted wanted it.

I understand that you feel this story is disrespectful FOR YOU, especially because it touches on a real-life situation that may be sensitive or painful for some people. I want to assure you that it was never my intention to cause harm or disrespect anyone involved in that situation.

I myself am diagnosed with chronic anxiety, and even so, I didn't feel affected by the way I wrote. In fact, I described how I feel during MY anxiety attacks.

In no way did I make fun of the situation Matt went through, in fact, my intention in writing this story was to explore Matt's complexity and show how he deals with real problems, such as anxiety. It was a way to give more depth to his situation during the tour and highlight the importance of the emotional support he receives from "Y/N". It was not my intention to mock him, but rather to explore his humanity and the challenges he faced, and I know with all the certainty in the world that I did not mock him, much less affect the people who read the story.

Please, I ask you to reevaluate the need to throw hate at a person who has nothing to do with your outside the box opinions of what WRITERS ON THE STURNIOLO'S TUMBLR should or shouldn't write about.

There are thousands of posts on Instagram and TikTok from "fans" really mocking Matt and throwing hate at him about "their bad experiences" during one of the shows, these are the people you should be giving a piece of your mind to, not me. 🩷

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

Could we get Gaz reacting to reader spreading rumours on base that they're dating for no good reason other than to undermine his authority and piss him off? (Inspired by your reader flirting with Gaz on the job piece) 🙏

tasty tasty tasty.

ok so there is a reason other than undermining his authority. but a pissed-off Gaz is a pissed-off Gaz, right?

26 / 1.4k / comes after flirting with Gaz on the job

...

You're on your way to a briefing, eyes cast down on the paperwork in your hands. You did not do your homework, as usual, so you're skimming what you can in the four minutes it takes you to walk to the meeting room.

Which is why you almost don't see Gaz standing in front of you, arm braced on the wall, blocking your way. To someone else, he'd read as neutral. You know his face too well to misread the stern glower tightening his features.

"Excuse me," you say, trying to sidestep him.

Gaz doesn't move. He also clearly knows he can't be moved. Not by you.

"Late for a meeting?" he asks lightly.

"No, sir, but I will be in just a few minutes. So if you don't mind--"

"Not at all," he says in a voice that implies the opposite. "Since you're about to be late anyway, how about you and me have a little chat, yeah?"

"I couldn't possibly take up more of your valuable time," you say, slipping into the flirtatious tone you so often direct at him. You try to slide past him, but nothing escapes Gaz. "Though I'm flattered you'd--"

He grabs your arm. Not roughly—he never touches you roughly, probably because you’d just egg him on—but firmly enough not to be ignored. "With me, Private."

You're too flustered to resist as he pulls you through the halls and into a different office. Captain Price's office, you notice.

“Have a seat.” He gestures to the chair in front of desk, then sits himself on Price’s chair. The corner of his mouth curls up. That’s unnerving.

You don't sit. "Sir, I appreciate your urgency, but I really must get to my briefing. Shepherd will wonder where I am."

Gaz's stare is steady as a hawk's. You'd love the chance to gaze into his eyes under any other circumstances. But now?

"Then Shepard can take it up with me," he says. "He wouldn't be surprised to hear we're spending time together, after all. Or hasn't he heard?"

You sweat. Oh, shit. "I, um, don't know why he wouldn't be surprised."

His eyes harden. “No? I hear we've been spending quite a lot of time together lately. Funny how I was the last to know about it."

Inwardly, you cringe. "I can explain."

“Yeah?” he challenges you. He crosses his arms, leaning back. "You can explain where the hell you get off spreading grubby little rumors about how you and I are fooling around?"

"I said I can." You fidget with the stapled corners of the packets of paper in your arm, folding and creasing them as your mind runs at ninety miles an hour. "So what did you hear, exactly?"

"What I heard was that we're seeing each other in the least professional way imaginable," Gaz says, voice clipped. He keeps his expression and tone controlled only with visible effort. "That I’m having a cozy little fling with a private. Someone who is technically my subordinate. That could cost me a lot of time and patience if my superiors decided to write me up."

"But Captain Price would never believe that about you, though. Right? I mean, the rumor mill is always churning out something. Last month it was Sergeant MacTavish and the girl from IT."

His expression gets frostier. "You started the rumor about us. I know it was you."

You fight the urge to glance back at the door behind you. You try to weave an excuse together, but it gets stuck in your throat.

Gaz leans forward now. His glare is so sharp it could slice glass. He seems to grow in size as he stares you down. He’s so intense, so intimidating, so… right there. Way too close. You start to get distracted, swimming in his dark eyes, before his voice yanks you back to reality.

"I know because some prick claiming to be your ex-boyfriend confronted me about it. Said you put the idea in his head that I'm keeping you warm at night. Took a swing at me, too." He narrows his eyes. "I don't like being put in a position to defend your honor just to protect my reputation, Private."

You stumble through a litany of excuses--you had to get your ex off your back; you meant a different Sergeant Garrick; okay, maybe that's not true, but you only just told a tiny little fib. Is it really your fault the rumor spiraled out of control?

It doesn't work. In fact, as you babble on, Gaz only takes your flailing as proof of how guilty you are.

You're prepared for him to tear you a new asshole (though not in the way you'd want), but to your surprise, he doesn't. Instead:

"You’re going to make this right."

You blink. "I am?"

"Damn right you are. I did your dirty work for you, and I'm sure as hell not chasing down your ex and apologizing after the rubbish he spewed."

"Then... you want me to tell him I lied?"

Gaz scoffs. "It wouldn't work if you did."

"Then what am I supposed to do? Ignore it?"

"Quiet down. I wasn't finished. There's no use trying to quell the rumors at this point; it'll only fuel them. So here's what we're gonna do."

…

You're not quite sure how this is going to solve the problem. It seemed rational when he explained it. Then again, anything coming out of Gaz’s mouth sounds reasonable to you.

You're sitting across from him at a low-key dinner joint. Not the kind of upscale place you're used to being taken to on dates. Then again, this place wasn't your choice. And technically you're treating him to dinner. He’s the one who’s quote-unquote "breaking up" with you.

When you'd questioned his logic, pointing out that it'd be way easier to just not and say you did, he gave you a half-amused, half-condescending look that made your stomach too fluttery.

"If you're gonna use my name and risk my reputation to be my fake girlfriend, I'm gonna get something out of it," he'd said. So now you've gotta wine and dine him at his favorite restaurant, and then you're gonna have to sit there and be broken up with. As if he hasn't shamed you enough.

That sucks. This sucks. You never even got a real date with him. And with your luck, your ex is gonna find out.

You do try to flirt your way back into his good graces during this fake-relationship-real-date. He just scoffs. Doesn't just no-sell you--he actively bites back and he's pretty damn mean about it.

You're not just a liar, he tells you--you're dense. If you'd asked him out like a normal person instead of flirting with him and then starting stupid rumors, he'd have considered it. When you tell him you had asked him out and he’d turned you down, he scoffs and tells you he'd have split the bill instead of making you pay, at least.

That's as far as he intends for it to go. But then, while you're waiting on the check, he gets a text from an unknown number.

It's a video. Of you.

You doing some very lewd things to what looks like your ex-boyfriend. Blowing him in the bathroom of some club or a restaurant much dingier than this one. If that's where he's been taking you on dates, Gaz can understand why you broke up with him.

Enjoy my sloppy seconds, chud, says the accompanying smug text.

Gaz is also starting to understand why you lied to get your ex off your back.

"What is it?" you ask, seeing the look on Gaz's face as he stares down at his phone.

"Nothing," he says, putting his phone away as the waiter sets down the check. Gaz pushes his chair out and rises, trying his best not to show any emotion, but his words are a little too sharp. "Let's go.”

"Now?" you ask, surprised. "I thought you were going to--I thought we would get our story straight about the, um, the breakup."

"We can figure it out on the way."

"To where?”

"Your place."

...

[part 1] / part 2

more Gaz / masterlist tag

[lynnieos]

Hey is it just me or do certain fans complain about how much they hate the other groups instead of loving theirs.

I don't think calling out the misogyny in this fandom is wrong, not in the slightest (my most popular post is calling out the way people treat ena versus akito because of their gender), but most of the time these call out posts just result in more negativity and arguments rather than any like. Productive discussion.

I don't wanna hear about how minoharu and anhane are more canon than ruikasa and akitoya and are Therefore More Valid And Liking Ruikasa More Is Wrong And Bad (exaggerated but most of the time people do insult a ship in order to promote their own) (also sometimes implies that rarepairs are less valid which is a dick move). I wanna hear about the interesting (and I mean very interesting) relationship that an has with kohane, her feelings of inadequacy and slight envy, I wanna hear about how minori (and the rest of mmj) inspired haruka to get back on the stage, and how minori finally got to "repay" haruka in a way.

I didn't start liking ichika because of people endlessly complaining about how underutilized she is and how You Guys Just Don't Get Her, Read The Stories And you'll Discover That She's Actually Perfect Actually (this one isn't an exaggeration but it was on YouTube not Tumblr so in it goes), I started liking her because I learned about her character, her sheer determination and love for her friends, and her want to resonate with people's hearts from people who really like her.

I'm not gonna pretend the Ruikasa fandom and akitoya fandom can't be annoying, a lot of them are toxic and have a habit of making everything about Ruikasa/akitoya while reducing their relationships with other characters to push their shipping narrative. It pisses me off. A lot. I could write (and probably will write) an entire essay on how entitled and bitchy Ruikasa/akitoya fans can be, and I definitely understand how it can build up resentment towards a ship, and how their mass popularity is most definitely attributed to the fact that they are men (which results in an extreme lack of understanding of their actual characters and overall dynamic, reducing them to "top tall sexy one" and "bottom cute feminine one" which upsets me to hell and back). And calling this out is not wrong in the slightest.

but needlessly attacking a ship that someone likes is not a call out. calling Ruikasa and akitoya "a stupid ship" is not a call out. Actively insulting people for liking it is not a call out. Adding Ruikasa and akitoya tags to your post bashing them is not a callout. It's being a dick. You are not doing anything productive by calling Ruikasa and akitoya shippers idiots or stupid or insulting their taste you are only going to piss people off and you know that you are going to piss people off.

Acknowledge but do not attack. Be civil. And if you cant be civil then save everyone some time and keep it private.

Oh yeah. And be annoying about your blorbos. Make KING kanamafu art. Put shizuairi in Fragile. Talk about how much you love your girl ships and your girl characters and don't event mention the guys, make fanfiction and fanart of the girls, I really really want you to, genuinely, because they do get less rep in the fandom than their male counterparts, so more content of the girls is always great. It feels a lot better than complaining about a ship you don't even like, I promise

(Btw I mention this in the tags but if anyone wants to add input or correct me on something you totally can. My words aren't law and this post is just me stating my thoughts, and I invite you to share yours if you want.)

[hannie-dul-set]

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [3].

SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.

PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, talks about stalking, talks about death, data privacy violations, so much emotional whiplash yummy, a very long conversation, google dependent historical information. WORD COUNT. 6.3k.

NOTE. this chapter finally made its way out hell 😭😭😭 per usual, please let me know your thoughts on the chapter! a single comment on ao3 inspired me to finish this, so ur feedback really means a lot! enjoy<3

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 3 — can we go back to being parasocial?

IF SOMEONE HEARS YOUR SUMMARY OF THE EVENTS THAT UNFOLDED WITHIN THE PAST FEW DAYS, they may accuse you of lying. Delusional, even. You’d think the same had you not been the center of it all— yet the proof is in your pockets. Your phone. In the album Choi Yeonjun failed to sign, stuffed inside your bag at the last minute before you left your apartment earlier.

The summary. Right. Yes.

“Can they stop sharing that video of Yeonjun excessively flirting with a fan?! I’m going to kill myself if I see it one more time.”

You were lucky enough to nab a fansign slot. But instead of getting Choi Yeonjun’s signature, you ended up getting a kiss of a hand instead, along with a scrawl of numbers on your album that you’re far too terrified to try to dial.

“Hey, send me our photo with Soobin the other day,” nudges Huening from beside you. “I’m gonna print it out and put it in a locket and use it as a family heirloom.”

You bumped into one of your favorite actors, Choi Soobin, in the middle of a late night convenience store run with your friends to fuel your group all nighter, stained his shirt with your ice cream, and got a photo with him in the process.

“By the way, have you called the business card yet? What are you gonna do with your broken phone screen?”

And Choi Beomgyu may or may not have professed his undying love for you, asked for your hand in marriage, and started crying in front of you in less than ten fucking minutes.

“She’s zoned out.”

The problem is, you can’t even bask in the delightful absurdity of it all because one common thread from all those three separate instances has been keeping you up for nights. It’s clawing at your brain, lingering in the back of your mind like an incessant stalker— which, mind you, is not a pleasant feeling when the very causes of such disturbance were once the bringers of joy and all things good in your otherwise meaningless life as a cog in the capitalist machinery that is society.

“Hello? Are you awake?”

Said problem being the fact that you’re pretty sure they all called you by your name at one point.

How the fuck do they know your name?

“I deleted Twitter. I Airdropped it to you. No, I have not called it yet. Now please let me think in peace.”

Crazy. This is all too crazy. In the first place, what are the odds that you bump into three celebrities within one week’s time? Is this some sort of prank, or something? Are those three filming a hidden camera show together? No, no. That couldn’t be because there’s no fucking way a company is sane enough to stage a risky hidden camera prank during a fansign knowing full well how obsessive and insane fans can get. You’re lucky your face wasn’t caught in any of the videos circulating online— video of you and Choi Yeonjun, mostly him, acting out a fucking sageuk. You’re lucky you haven’t been doxxed yet.

“Finish your sandwich,” Taehyun clicks his tongue, nudging your food closer to you, and you sigh heavily. Maybe you’re just wrong, you think, taking a bite from the bread. Maybe this is just a misunderstanding. Maybe you’re just overthinking.

You eat your lunch and steal some wet wipes from Gaeul in between. Right. It’s not like you’re ever gonna bump into them again. You live in, as cliche as it sounds, two different worlds after all. You’re just gonna watch their dramas, listen to their music, enjoy their performances, and that’s it that’s it that’s it.

“Prof Jang sent a message. Class is canceled.”

But still—

“Woohoo! Let’s go to the new dessert shop that opened downtown.”

Choi Beomgyu’s voice saying I love you, Choi Soobin’s cologne wafting in the air you were breathing in, and Choi Yeonjun’s lips pressed against your skin.

How can a sane person just forget about all of that?!

“Why do you look like you’re fantasizing about perverted shit?” Woohyun slaps you in the face with a reality check. This is fucking stupid.

“I’m not fantasizing,” you grunt, because they were events that actually fucking happened— they weren’t birthed from your brain’s insanity. “Anyway, dessert? Where is it?” You ignore your burning face, hoping that your friends decide to ignore it too, but Gaeul has her eyes narrowed at you. Crap. She didn’t recognize that it’s you in the videos right? Holy fucking hell, you’d rather die.

“Aren’t you gonna answer that?”

Oh. Well. That’s— that’s something. A good something because she hasn’t suspected you yet, moitioning instead to your cracked phone that has been buzzing under your notice because you’ve been thinking way too fucking much.

You check the caller ID, but it’s an unknown number, and it doesn’t match the business card you got from your run in with the alleged Choi Beomgyu. “Hello?” you answer, and a voice you don’t recognize says your name and asks if it’s you. “Yes, this is her. Who’s this?”

Another item added to the weird as fuck things that happened to your this week. You excuse yourself from your friends, and with knitted brows, you listen to the stranger at the other end of the line. “You met Choi Soobin the other day at a 7-Eleven in Gangnam, right?” The fuck? Did someone see you that day? Is this a stalker? “This is his manager. Lee Byeongho. I would like to speak with you regarding a certain matter.”

Now, hold the fucking phone.

“Is everything alright?”

You respond to Huening’s concern with a stiff smile before turning away from them. “Did I do something wrong?” you fuss into the call. “I didn’t post any of the photos from that day. I never talked about it online either, and I’m pretty sure my friends haven’t either. Wait. Wait a minute. How did you get my number?”

“Yes, it was difficult to obtain knowing only your first name and university.” That doesn’t answer your question. That just gave you more questions. “But, no. You aren’t in trouble. Actually...I called because you’re the only one who can help us— help Soobin— get out of trouble.”

Your face scrunches up.

“I’m at your campus right now. Parking lot. Do you mind meeting me for a moment?”

Just what did you get yourself into?

“You haven’t finished your food. Where are you going?”

“Somewhere,” you reply, quickly snatching your half-eaten sandwich from the table as your friends follow your swift movements with matching looks of confusion. “I’ll be right back. It’s nothing, don’t worry.” However, you are quite worried. You’re pretty sure Lee Manager, or whatever, is committing some data privacy crimes against you, but the one thing you want at the moment is answers. Your brain is about to explode from all the fucking questions and confusion. There’s a sliver of hope that meeting up with this sketchy guy can answer a few of them. You’d take that chance to air out your head.

There’s a black van in the parking lot. It’s the first thing you noticed because one of its doors are open, and there’s a familiar looking guy waiting just in front of the exposed seats. 

He notices you approaching. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says. What’s with men you’re meeting for the first time treating you with familiarity? You’re going to rip your hair out and throw yourself into moving traffic.

“Sure, but can you get to the point?” you stiffly say. “I’m a little busy. I still have classes in a bit.”

“Of course, I’m sorry. This whole situation must’ve come off as a shock to you.” Great, now you’re feeling bad. Soobin’s manager (allegedly) looks like he’s been through a whole lot as well. “Anyway. You are a fan of Choi Soobin, correct?”

“Well,” you blink. “Yes.”

“How about the dramas Kang Jaehee has written and directed?” he follows up. “Are you a fan of those as well?”

Your brows furrow. “I guess?” Peach Tree. That Summer. Mogi. Those are the titles that come right at the top of your head. “What does that have to do anything with me?” Manager Lee spares you a look of pity. You feel like this meet-up is just set out to making you even more fucking confused.

“I sincerely apologize. I didn’t want to drag you into this either, but I’m afraid you’re the only option I have,” says Manager Lee despondently. “Since...since you are a fan of Soobin, and I assume that means you also care about his career, so—”

He pauses. Like he’s practicing the next set of words he’s about to say inside his head.

“—do you mind meeting up with him to convince him to take the lead role for Kang Jaehee’s upcoming drama?”

But nothing could’ve prepared you for that.

What.

What the fuck?

“Mr Manager. Sir,” you start, appalled beyond comprehension. “I’d appreciate it if you start making a bit more sense.” 

“Trust me, I can’t believe I’m doing this either.”

You’re speechless. Your mouth is hanging open with no words coming out because, again, what the fuck? Manager Lee looks just as defeated as you, as if he weren’t the one who had just presented that ridiculous proposal. You are, quite frankly, at a discernible loss. 

Manager Lee lets out a sigh and digs a hand into his pocket. “I’m afraid this is all the time I have today. But please contact me once you’ve made a decision.” Another business card acquired. This is just dandy. “I am really hoping for your cooperation, miss. I’m sure you’re aware of Soobin’s inactivity lately, and my intention of approaching you today is simply in order to help my star’s career. Please consider the favor positively, and we will compensate you as much as my authority can allow.”

With that, you’re left with another laminated piece of paper in your hands. Gosh. This is a headache. When you get back to your friends, they notice the distress you’re in, further justifying a visit to the new dessert store, and seeing how your soul has completely left your body, you’re dragged along with them with ease.

“Hey, pick one. My treat,” says Woohyun. You let out a grunt and point at a random pastry on display. Next thing you know, you’re seated in between Huening and Gaeul at the store you don’t even know the name of. 

Huening is force feeding you an eclair. “Eat.” Your scowl disappears when you allow the eclair entry into your mouth. “Seriously, what’s going on with you? Who did you meet earlier?” 

Seeing as you show absolutely no intentions of telling them, they refuse to question you about it further. Good on them, because there’s no way in hell you’re spilling your predicament. Not until you find out exactly what kind of situation you’re in, at the very least. The two business cards feel like they’re weighing your pockets down, a constant reminder of their existence along with the scrawl Yeonjun left behind.  

“I know exactly how to make you feel better.”

The declaration comes from Gaeul, who slides her phone over to you, and when you look down to see what exactly her miracle medicine is to make you feel less manic, you hack out a cough upon seeing Choi Yeonjun’s face on her phone screen. “The hell is wrong with you?” asks Taehyun from across, giving you some water to push down the eclair lodged in your throat. “I know you like him, but even that is an overreaction.”

Jesus, you’re close to losing it. When you’ve avoided choking to death, Gaeul puts an airpod into your ear, and you hear Yeonjun reading out some comments. “Choi Yeonjun, you look really happy lately, did something good happen? someone asked,” he says while having snacks of his own. “First of all, why are you calling me Choi Yeonjun? It’s like you’re putting a wall between us. I don’t like it.”

Gaeul makes a noise of some sort and had you not been subjected to this week’s insanities, you might have reacted the same way too. Instead, you simply listen to his live in caution, feigning disinterest as you watch him nibble on some pretzels and churros through the screen, continuing to answer the slew of questions in the comments.

“Anyway, you’re right! Something good did happen.” Yeonjun hums while picking out a pretzel from the paper bag, rustling noise and a lively tune filling the audio for a moment— a short moment, right before he continues speaking. “That’s because I finally met the love of my life.”

Taehyun has to give you his water again.

“Oh? Oho, what’s with the exclamation points?” he laughs. “Did I meet them the other day? Hmm...that’s a secret. You’re curious? You think it might be you? Well, let’s see. Should I describe her?”

“God, he’s so fucking messy,” says Gaeul from beside you. “This is why I like him. How many calls is he getting for his manager and company this time?”

“What’s going on? Why is she so startled?”

“Yeonjun’s talking about his apparent soulmate, I don’t know. Wanna listen?”

“Didn’t he get in trouble for doing the same thing last time too?”

Now, you’re not one to give a shit about his love life, and you like to stay out of that side of celebrity gossip as much as you can, but Choi Yeonjun himself is droning on about the love of his life right now. You can’t not hear about it even if you want to. However, as much as you want to let things come into one ear and out through the other, you can’t. Because— wait. Wait. His description is eerily familiar. His description is making you double take and second guess what you’re fucking hearing.

“Sounds a lot like you,” Taehyun remarks without much thought, right after Choi Yeonjun says that the girl he likes has a bit of an attitude, but he likes that about her.

Huening lets out a snort. “Yeah, that’s definitely you. Why don’t you go in a wedding dress the next time you attend a fansign? Who knows, you might have a shot.”

You snap them a dirty look. Fuck. This is making your head spin. For the second time, Choi Yeonjun’s tendency of putting himself into headlines and the trending searches for doing something insane is giving you nothing but stress.

“I did give her my number, but she hasn’t messaged me yet, so I’m quite hurt.”

Number. Hold on a fucking second.

“The comments are going crazy.”

You grab your bag from underneath you, dropping it down to your lap.

“Hey, if you’re watching this, pl—eeeeease contact me. Kim Noona thinks I have a phone addiction now because I’ve been dying waiting for your call.”

You quickly get up from your seat.

“Yo, where are you going this time?”

“I need a minute,” you announce, eyes scanning the store for a quiet place alone while hugging your bag to your chest. There’s nowhere. Looks like you have to get out. 

“Damn, we were just joking. As if you have a chance with a celebrity like him.”

Huening’s joke is ignored and you quickly leave outside the doors, making a sharp turn around the corner, slipping through the passersby downtown until you find an empty alley. Your heart is racing. Your heart is racing like crazy and you may be reaching right now. You may be acting crazy, but what Choi Beomgyu said during the interview with Yeong-Il the other day is echoing in your mind, and— in conjunction with everything else that had happened— you’re starting to think that maybe he wasn’t joking.

Your cracked phone screen greets you when you take it out of your pocket. On your other hand is the first business card you got this week.

“Who’s this?”

“Hello. Good day.” You tell them your name, the events that led up to you receiving this number, with the hope that maybe you’re finally on to something. “I’d like to talk about the compensation for my broken phone.”

Whatever that something is, you’re gonna get to the bottom of it.

*

It’s already beyond closing time at Kwiyeomdongmoim Cafe (a mouthful, you know), yet your pink apron is still neatly tied around your waist as you pace back and forth, to and fro, in circles inside the breakroom. The time is half-past nine in the evening. You should’ve clocked out thirty minutes ago, but you’re still waiting. 

The knock on the door signified the end of your wait. You turn to see your boss’s head popping in through the half-open crack. 

“Three guys are waiting for you,” informs Seokmin. “They all seem handsome. Are they your suitors?”

When you ditched your friends at the still unnamed dessert store the other day, you did it to make a few calls. Three, to be exact. Today is the culmination of those calls, which is why you’ve been erratically nervous the entire freaking day. Choi Soobin, Choi Beomyu, and Choi Yeonjun’s managers all answered respectively when you called all the sketchy numbers you got and made some negotiations (apparently, the mess on your album is Yeonjun’s number, but he got his phone confiscated after that livestream). 

“As if,” you say, walking up to the door leading back into the cafe. Suitors, more like stalkers. Fans stalking their idols is common, but the other way around is a pretty fresh idea. “Anyway, thanks, Kyeom. Thank you for letting me use the store for a while.” Because this is the only private place you can think of outside of your own home— and there’s no way in hell you’re letting them in there when you don’t even know how they managed to get hold of your personal information.

“We’re closed anyway.” Seokmin smiles and makes way for you to pass by. “Go ahead and do your thing. Do you want me to stay inside or keep watch?” 

“You can stay inside, it’s alright.” 

He nods. “Call me when you’re done. Scream if you need backup. I can handle all of them.”

You laugh and thank him once more, a pat on his arm before you decide to peek out the door first as a precautionary measure. From your spot, you can see three thoroughly covered men in windbreakers, caps, and masks sitting on three separate tables in the store. The blinds have already been rolled down, so you can’t see anything outside, but there doesn’t appear to be any cameras around, so you take it as a safe sign to finally leave your hiding spot.

The moment you do, the break room door creaks, and all three pairs of eyes immediately fall on you. 

They stand up. They call out your name in unison.

Holy shit.

And when they do, they all look at each other with a sudden flash of hostility in the air.

Um. Well. How are you supposed to do this? “H—hello,” you manage to squeak out, prompting their attention once more. Soobin takes off his cap and removes his mask, the other two following suit, and oh my god. Oh my god. You suck in a deep breath. Today, you are not a fan. You are an interrogator. This is not a fansign. This is an interrogation. 

“I— uh, I asked your managers if I can meet you all to—today for a specific reason.” Wow. Good job. Your hands are shaking and you can’t look up from the floor or else you’d start losing your mind. “But—but, before that— would...would you like some drinks…?”

Interrogation paused. You need to get your shit together first.

“Please enjoy.”

With the help of your boss (because your hands wouldn’t stop shaking and you dropped the first one you made), you managed to whip up four iced teas and settle all three of them into one table at the very back of the store. You send a stiff smile at Seokmin after he placed all the drinks on the table.

God, you owe him so much— especially when he’s being unreasonably glared at by the three men sitting with you right now. Choi Beomgyu to your left, Choi Soobin to your right, Choi Yeonjun directly across from you and holy fuck, you have yet to look at them properly yet for your own safety. They haven’t been talking to each other either, simply sitting and waiting for you to speak. You’re pretty sure they know each other though, at least by name, being in the same industry and all. 

To say that the tension in the air is suffocation would be an understatement. How...how do you start this? The fuck should you say first?

“You know, I was really happy when Kim Noona told me you called.”

Apparently you don’t have to start it. Choi Yeonjun does it for you.

“But why are these two crashing our date?”

And that’s when things also start to get messy.

“Date?” Choi Soobin interjects. He sounds offended. Why does he sound offended. “What are you talking about?”

Choi Yeonjun doesn’t get a chance to make his case. Because Choi Beomgyu from your left suddenly snatches one of your hands from the table, prompting you to look at one of them for the first time tonight, and your eyes fly wide open. “I’d...like to apologize for the other day. I was just overtaken by my emotions. I hope you weren’t too freaked out.”

You are quite freaked out because holy shit, this is too much maybe. Not maybe. Yes. This is too much. Too. Much.“Hey, why are you holding her hand?!” you hear Choi Soobin exclaim from your other side. Choi Beomgyu’s soft expression suddenly disappears into a glare and a sneer the moment he shifts his gaze.

“You’re holding her hand too!”

“Why can’t I?!”

“Hey, this isn’t fair! One of you switch with me—”

Dizzy. You’re feeling dizzy. Your head is spinning and you’re suffocating from the heat emanating from your very face. Whatever they’re arguing about isn’t even reaching your ears anymore. You’re getting lightheaded and your sweaty hands start slipping out from the two’s weirdly tender hold on your hands because your body is physically breaking down.

“Shut up! Oh my god, my head—”

Your vision actually starts spinning for a second so you quickly bring the bottom of your palms to your temples, elbows on the table to balance yourself, only to be wobbled and shaken because the three suddenly jolted off their seats in panic.

“Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine, just please—for the love of god— sit down and shut up.”

They sit down and shut up. You massage your temples in silence. You remove your hands from your face and, after sucking in a deep breath and releasing it thereafter, feel your heartbeat settling into a normal rate. As normal as it can get in this situation.

“Whew. Okay. I think I’m ready. Let’s get down to business.” Finally, you’re the one steering the conversation. You give each of them a once over as quickly as possible because now you know that prolonged eye contact will only hurt you. You settle with looking at the gaps between each of them. That’s fine. You’re fine. “Choi Soobin, Choi Yeonjun, Choi Beomgyu.”

It’s like three bulbs just lit up in succession. Your brain is starting to hurt.

“A—as I was saying, you three are some of South Korea’s biggest celebrities and although I am, in fact, a big fan of all three of you—” Why is Choi Soobin growing pink. Why the fuck is he blushing. “—that— that does not make me fail to recognize the amount of weird shit that’s been happening lately, and I think I need answers.”

They are still sitting down and shutting up. They listen to instructions well, at the very least.

“First, how the fuck did all three of you know my name without any prior introduction. Second—”

The words get clamped in your throat. It’s lodged in there very tightly because you make the mistake of looking one of them in the eye, only to notice that all three of them are looking at you with the same expression. An expression you can only describe as longing.

And your face starts burning.

“Se— second, why…why do you all keep looking at me like I’m an ex you want to get back together with…?”

Maybe you asked the wrong question.

Because for some reason they all look sad now. Really sad. Really fucking sad and it’s making your stomach clench and nerves all numb and funky because making three big celebrities all sad simultaneously is a bragging right at one end of the spectrum, and a national crime at the other.

It’s Choi Soobin who cracks the silence. “I…I had a feeling when I saw you again for the first time at the store.” Again? “Do you not remember me?”

Your face furrows. “No…? Did we ever meet before you became an actor?”

Hurt. The look of sadness has now spiraled into hurt and one might think you just stabbed and twisted a knife into his fucking gut.  “How—how about me?” Your attention turns to Choi Yeonjun who isn’t looking any better. It’s like his entire world view was just proven to be wrong and why does it feel like you’re the one to blame. 

What else can you do but shake your head in denial? Now he looks like he’d just been told he’s adopted!

“You’re…you’re joking,” he tries to laugh it off, but it only comes off as strained and shaky, then, in one fell swoop— desperate. “R—right…?”

“Great!”

Before you start feeling even shittier, Choi Beomgyu finally decides to join in. 

“And here I thought her forgetting about me was the worst case scenario.” His tone is bitter. There’s a snap in his words. “I didn’t think there’d be other bastards in the same situation as me. God fucking damn it.”

There’s a moment of silence. You watch as realization hits the other while you’re still left in the dark. Choi Yeonjun juts his seat closer. Choi Soobin tries to reach a hesitant arm to your direction, but you’re  tugged to the other side by Choi Beomgyu, who’s suddenly a little too, too close.

“Hey.”

Your hands are clamped together. 

“I meant it when I said I love you. I do. I have loved you four hundred years ago and I still love you now, and if whatever god or deity decides to make you meet you for the third time, I’ll still love you then.”

Beomgyu’s holding both of them in between his in a firm grip.

“Second life is about you. Blue Spring is about you. You’re the person I’ve been waiting for from the beginning of this life until the last.”

Now, if this situation wasn’t crazy, your heart would be skipping a beat right now.

But it is crazy. This is fucking insane. And you look around to see that there’s a weird look of sympathy and understanding in the other Choi’s eyes, clearly not recognizing the visceral insanity of this situation, which fills you with a swallowing lump of existential dread. You pry your hands out of Beomgyu’s grasp (you swear you can hear glass breaking), and slowly turn to Choi Yeonjun and say, with a very hesitant, very cautious, “Y...you too…?”

The look on his face says it all. And then you swivel over to Choi Soobin.

“And you?” 

“I’ve lo—”

“No!” you snap. “Don’t finish that sentence. Please. Oh my god.”

You see Seokmin popping his head out from the corner, mouthing an are you okay? and you shakily bring up a weak thumbs up. “Well, isn’t this interesting,” you hear Choi Yeonjun say, which feels like a slap in the face because what exactly is interesting about this. “Here I thought I was special.”

“Get off your high horse,” retorts Choi Soobin, a sneer in his voice. You double take. Choi Soobin is supposed to be sweet and gentle and kind. Who is this man? “Whatever kind of past you had with her doesn’t mean anything. I met her first. I met her at the end of King Danjong’s rule.”

“Ha!” Choi Yeonjun starts. “We got married under King Taejong. I’ve loved her before any of you did.”

Now, what the fuck?

Choi Soobin’s face pales and he chokes over his words. “M—married?”

There’s a smug grin on Choi Yeonjun’s face. He leans back against the chair with his arms crossed in victory. “You heard that correctly. Married. Pack up your bags. Unless you want me to tell you everything we did on our we—”

“Shut up, shut up, I don’t want to hear it!”

Marriage. King Danjong. King Taejong. Second life. The gears are churning inside your head. You don’t like the direction where the gears are pointing.

“What about you?”

Choi Yeonjun raises the question and the attention is now on Choi Beomgyu. He’s been quiet. The other two wait for him to say his piece— a feigned air of disdain and arrogance but there’s an unconcealable undertone of nervousness underneath it all. Your iced teas have been left untouched. Choi Beomgyu simply scoffs and presses his crossed arms against his chest.

“I have no reason to tell you any of that. This is between me and her.”

And at your mention, you receive the undivided attention of three pairs of eyes once more. Your heart rattles. God fucking damn it. Listen, you’re an avid consumer of the entertainment industry. You’ve watched a good amount of dramas and have read a good amount of manhwas to surmise a conclusion with the bits and pieces of stray information being tossed back and forth between the three. And it’s all ridiculous. But you have nothing else to work with unless they come spilling their guts themselves.

“So,” you clear your throat. “Are you three, like…a couple…hundred years old…?”

They all look offended. 

“No!”

Well, maybe you’re wrong about that part. But after a very long, convoluted discussion, the “facts” (if you can even call it that), are finally laid down on your feet.

They say you’ve all met before. Separately, in three separate lifetimes, with this one allegedly being your fourth unless there were lives in between that they can’t remember. One thing for certain is that the three of them remember the life they had while loving you— and they loved you very much apparently because those feelings and memories got carried over even after they got reborn into the present day.

The problem is, you don’t have the same symptoms. You don’t remember anything about your past lives. Hell, you can’t even remember anything in this life before you hit two years old. 

You slump in your seat. The table rattles. They get up from their chairs and come circling around you in concern.

“Are— are you okay, do you need to lie down? You could rest in my van for a while and—”

You swat Choi Yeonjun’s hand away before it could land on your shoulder. You’ve now got your hands on your face in stress, and peeking through you see Choi Soobin on your right, crouching down and looking up at you with furrowed brows and big, sad eyes. On your left is Choi Beomgyu, half-seated on the chair. You let out a very long, very anguished and muffled groan. This is too much. “If— if what you guys are saying is true,” you say. “What does it matter?”

There’s a tense pause in the air. 

“What do you mean…?”

You spring up from your seat and turn around, Choi Yeonjun in front of you. 

“I mean what does it all matter? King Sejeong, Joseon era, or whatever— I don’t care about all of that. We’re in the twenty-first century right now. I’m neither your lover nor your wife. I’m just a fan of your dramas and music and performances and that's it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t really want to see their faces right now. You let a huff of air slip past your lips, turning back around to collect the untouched glasses of drinks on the table.

“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet me and explain. I hope it’s all settled. Thanks for clearing everything up today. You can now all leave.”

It’s Choi Yeonjun who races after you when you make your firm and quick strides to the counter. He cuts off your path. “I—I don’t understand,” he chokes out. You make the mistake of meeting his gaze and see the threat of tears glazing his eyes. “What—what do you mean?”

Admittedly, that hurled a giant pang against your ribcage, knocking the air out of your chest, but you move forward. You brush past him, setting the glasses back on the counter, and— after a moment’s pause— you turn around, a heavy weight on your shoulders. It’s like gravity is trying to suck you deep into the mantle. “What I’m trying to say is we should all just get over what happened all those hundreds of years ago and live our lives in the present. I mean, I don’t know any of you. Don’t you think it’s unhealthy to keep clinging onto the past, especially when you guys are nothing but strangers to me in this life?”

Dead silence. You don���t dare look at any of them in the face. You try and retreat to the break room as quickly as you can, hands fumbling to untie your apron along the way, but you stumble over your steps, screeching to a halt the moment you hear someone say—

“Do you think it’s that easy?”

You could hear your heart in your eardrums. 

It takes all the strength in your body for you to look back, to see the pained expression on Choi Beomgyu’s face standing the farthest away from you out of the three. “Do you think I put my name out there so that it’d be easier for you to find me, wrote all those songs about you in the hopes that I could see you again if you’re someone I can just easily forget?”

Your throat tightens. It’s like you’re swallowing a boulder.

“If you wanted me to forget about you, you shouldn’t have died right in front of me then. You shouldn’t have told me you loved me right before you went cold in my arms if you wanted me to fucking forget.”

Oh.

Oh, god.

Choi Yeonjun and Choi Soobin don’t look any better. It hits you that you might have been more than a little bit unfair.

“I’m sorry.”

You don’t know your history. You don’t know what the fuck happened between you and them throughout those years that made them feel so strongly about you. But it must be harder for those who remember than for those who forgot.

It’s not like they chose to live in the present with half of their souls stuck in the past, either. You’ve been acting awfully unfair.

“I was being insensitive. I’m so sorry,” you exhale. Your knees feel like they’re about to buckle. Your head is spinning in circles. “But to be honest, this is all still very overwhelming, and I’m having a hard time comprehending and making sense of everything. It doesn’t feel real.” You try to take a step closer, but your legs give in. Choi Yeonjun quickly rushes to balance you back on your feet.

“Don’t push yourself,” he says, softly. You can’t look at him. God, these guys really know how to bring your guilt all the way home.

“Thanks, um, anyway—” You breathe in. Shit, you can’t believe you’re considering this. “Again, I really can’t and won’t be able to understand the magnitude of your— well, uh— feelings, since I really don’t remember anything. But how about…I spend some time with each of you individually, and maybe…maybe it can help in jogging back my memories?”

The atmosphere shifts. Ah. This feels like a fucking trap.

“You— you mean it?”

To be honest, you’d much rather just not deal with any of this, just stay at home and continue living your life with these three men as persons you only know behind the screen. But those looks in their eyes— hopeful and melancholic— make you feel your organs are being rearranged every five seconds, and you’d feel bad leaving them with the pain of this conversation especially after they poured out their hearts to you.

You can’t deny the joy and escape they’ve given you for the past couple of years you’ve spent as their fan. Maybe entertaining this unreality is the least you can do.

“I mean, well,” you start, clearing your throat. “Choi Beomgyu, you still need to pay for my phone. Choi Soobin, your manager wanted me to talk to you about something, and Choi Yeonjun—”

You look at the guy who still has one arm pressed against your back, two hands in a firm grip on your shoulders. He’s looking at you and batting his eyes expectantly. You let out a sigh and set yourself loose.

“I need to discuss something with you soon, too.” As in, please stop vaguely mentioning me in your live streams because I fear I might find an angry mob in front of my house. “I think I have all your contact information anyway.”

There aren’t any more reactions coming from them. This seems like the best possible solution for all of you. You sigh again. This has been an emotionally draining evening. You can’t wait to get some fucking rest.

“I’ll be in touch with you or your managers soon. For now, let’s call it a day.”

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[bittersweet-folder]

can i have 'briefly tracing the lines of their palms' with minghao please?

🪽Ofc love! Thanks for this request! (Please check the masterlist if anyone wants to request anything)

🪽Pairing: Artist Minghao x gn reader , established relationship, non idol au

🪽song rec: understand by keshi | 🪽word count : 437

Here you go with artist Minghao because I believe an artist's hands should be admired🩶

You're Minghao's muse. You love it a lot to be his muse, to be the one whom he admires the most and gets his inspiration from. You may not always understand how he perceived things and beings around him, but you admired the way he expressed it through his brush strokes on the canvas. It's a saturday night and you both were sitting on the couch watching a movie after dinner. You both were cuddled up, all cozy in the blankets. One of his arms was around your shoulder while you cuddled up close, your head resting on his chest. 

It felt comforting and relaxing sharing each other's body warmth like that. You held his other hand with both of your hands. His hands are big with his freshly painted nails shiny because of the light from the tv screen. 

"Hao these look soo pretty" You squealed when he had shown you his new manicure two days back. 

You traced the pretty abstract red and black design on his nails. You also think of how he uses these hands to create those exquisite masterpieces hung on the walls of the exhibition room. It makes your heart swell with admiration and pride. You trace the lines of his palms now. Soft and slow traces. 

"Love, what are you doing?" He asked,his voice a bit husky for not talking for some time now. 

"Mmm nothing, focus on the movie" You mumbled, cozying up even closer to him as if there was a bit of space left between you both. A soft smile laced on your lips now. 

He let out a chuckle. You kept on tracing his hand but then suddenly he tilted your face with his hand you were holding, making you look at you. 

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours hmm?" he asked. He was looking at your eyes, then your cheeks which were slightly pink but not that visible in the dully lit room.

"Your hands are very pretty. I really love how you paint so beautifully, like how your hand is familiar to that feeling" You said. 

He would be lying if he didn't feel the admiration in your eyes, which did make him a little shy. He slowly came closer and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, his hand now caressing your cheek. He pulled back slowly and smiled looking at you. 

"Thanks, love, that means a lot to me. I love you so much" he said in a softer voice. 

"I love you too Hao" you said, now hugging and resting your head on his chest again. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆:*:･ﾟ☆

a/n: as someone who loves art and is an artist, writing this was quite comforting... <3

[zzthekaiju]

Best of the Reptiles in Media - 01 - Godzilla (Monsterverse)

I figure that while I'm using this blog, I might as well post my ramblings on a subject dear to my heart: That being the representation of reptiles as characters in media. And not just villainous or vile ones like we're so used to. I'm talking about ones that inspire me. The ones that are legitimately compelling to me. And these posts are an excuse to espouse why.

Plus, it's just fun. You can thank the likes of @tyrantisterror and @bogleech for inspiring me to do these.

So who better to start with than with the lizard who's been an inspiration to me for almost my entire life. That being the one known as Gojira. AKA...Godzilla.

This is the one character in these posts who probably needs no introduction. Ever since his debut in 1954, the walking embodiment of the horrors of nuclear war, among other things, has been nothing less than an icon. This is the beast people think about when they hear "giant monster" or "kaiju". This is truly the King of the Monsters.

My introduction to Godzilla was a children's book called "Godzilla on Monster Island". It was a fun read full of neat monsters living together and teaming up to stop an evil plan. And it left me wanting more. I wanted more stories of these fantastic yet friendly beasts being friends and living together while having fun adventures. Little me was a bit disappointed to find that Godzilla spent more time fighting his fellow kaiju and trashing cities instead.

The truth, as I would find out, was that Godzilla is never just one thing. He is a fun defender of the Earth. He's the terrifying consequences of our tampering with both nature and science. And in recent memory, he's been a lot of other things. But most of the time, he's either hero or mankind's hubris on two legs. To me, he was a giant dinosaur that could fire thermonuclear breath, and that was all that mattered. It was after hearing about the historical significance of him that my respect doubled.

Back then, I would tell you that my favorite Godzilla from a design standpoint was the 2002 version. Personality wise, almost every Showa appearance post-1964.

But in 2014, everything changed. In came a Goji that seemed to have everything I could ask for. So, we're going to look at the one that resonates with me the most. The Monsterverse version.

That right there is perhaps one of the most awe-inspiring entrances I've ever seen in a cinema.

Before the release of Godzilla (2014), the franchise had entered something of a slump period. The last film was all the way back in 2004, and sadly, the kaiju genre was still something of a niche thing growing up. Here in America, you either liked superheroes or real-life celebrities as a kid. If you liked monsters, let alone giant monsters, you were one of the weird kids. That, or one of the kids who never lost their passion for dinosaurs. But those were rare.

Then Gareth Edwards unleashed this film, and while one could argue that Pacific Rim (2013) got the ball rolling, THIS ultimately resurrected the entire franchise of the Big G, and got him a degree of general respect from most film-goers (so long as you ignore the irritating internet drama regarding screen-time back then).

But let's get to the meat of this post. Why is this Godzilla so much better to me than the rest? A few things, really.

First off, there's Godzilla's role in the Monsterverse's narrative. For the most part, he is a guardian of the natural order, a means of bringing balance to imbalance. He is a metaphor for how nature is capable of righting itself, and how we either have to deal with it, or live with the consequences. In practice, Godzilla ends up going up against almost every monster, most of which are only a threat because we awakened them/created them. Yet despite this, he doesn't go out of his way to destroy us. He's not mindlessly destructive or particularly vengeful either. He knows we're a part of the world too. We just tend to grate a bit more on his nerves because of how much we screw up. If there's one thing this series isn't afraid to show, it's that...well, "the arrogance of man is thinking nature is within our control, and not the other way around."

Design-wise, this is one of the best Godzilla's around. He's bulky, has a killer stare, and there's something oddly endearing about how...well, meaty he is. He's like if my aforementioned previous favorite design, the 2002 one, put on both a lot of muscle and weight. It also ties into his fighting style, said to have been inspired particularly by bears. Even the sounds associated with him are amazing. From that hype-inducing charge of his thermonuclear breath to what might be the best rendition of the classic roar.

Then there is the body language. This Godzilla's usual gait is slow, almost plodding at times. He shows clear signs of exhaustion in some scenes. What he goes through is hard, and his job is even harder, but he still does it. It really helps sell his personality most of the time.

Part of why I like the Monsterverse so much is that, for the most part, the kaiju are treated as characters in their own right (that's not to say they weren't in previous iterations, far from it, but it's a bit more pronounced here than most of the post-Showa stuff). Sure, some films in this verse are better about it than others (more on that later...), but I like how you can glean what Godzilla is thinking of just by looking at his eyes. Of particular note is how they widen in "Godzilla: King of the Monsters" when Ghidorah gains the upper hand during the final battle, his absolute sneer of anger in the first movie when the male MUTO approaches him, or...this.

This scene. This one right here encapsulates so much of what I love about this iteration. Where Godzilla, dazed and thoroughly battered by both the fight with the MUTOS and having a building fall right on him, locks eyes with a tiny little soldier. You see a sense of tiredness, of pain, of acknowledgement, and maybe even a little wonder. This is not just some mindless beast fighting for its turf. It's a thinking being. And he's hurt. The most powerful creature on the planet isn't invincible, neither on the outside and definitely not on the inside.

And you know what? I've been there. There are times where I feel like I'm carrying the weight of the world, that there are things too heavy to bear, and its suffocating. Godzilla constantly shows throughout the Monsterverse that his job as a living balancing act is wearing on him. He gets put through so. Much. Crap. From getting buildings dropped on him to being personally dropped from a distance above the clouds to watching his symbiotic partner/mate die, it's almost unfair how we're expected to not really sympathize with him as much as...I'll get to that later.

But he never gives up. Despite all the pain and fatigue, he gets back up, and he fights. And he fights. And he continues until the deed is done. Someone has to rise to the occasion, and it might as well be him. If not him, then who?

That is the biggest reason I resonate with this Godzilla. His awe-inspiring design is one thing, but he gave me the strength to persevere. I don't give up, because he never did. Never before had the Big G been such a hero to me. Such that in 2014 I found myself silently sobbing to myself when it seemed like he was dead near the end even though that was clearly not the case. It's hardly a surprise that I based my personal Godzilla AU on him, albeit with the more sympathetic traits dialed up. Stuff like this made G14 and KOTM some of my favorite kaiju flicks...

...which made it more than a little disappointing when Wingard took the helm and basically said "screw that, this is about the monke now!" Yeah, GvK is the weakest entry in the series for me for a reason. Godzilla's more redeeming qualities are buried under a narrative that clearly is not interested in giving him the time of day or even the benefit of a doubt. Both it and it's successor, GxK, are Kong movies through and through, and that means poor Big G is put out of focus.

I cannot tell you how much I HATE this idea that the only way a monster can be relatable is if it either looks almost just like us or is really cute. Yes, I understand the universal appeal, but they had such a good thing going for Godzilla! And they throw almost all of it away just so that they can make Kong look better by comparison.

Credit where it's due, these issues are slightly improved in GxK. It's not only firmly established that Godzilla is an overall benefit to the world for keeping the other Titans in check, but we get some interesting bits with him like how he instantly responds and prepares to answer the call of the Iwi and help them. It shows that despite his tenuous relationship with humans, there are ones he clearly gives a lot of thought to. And there's also how he makes the Roman Coliseum his own personal bed. Not only is it kind of hilariously adorable, but if you remember how in KOTM he had his own man-made temple, you get the impression that he has a bit of homesickness. That's the kind of thing I like to see! More of that and less "he's only ever angry and he only ever fights, character is for primates only".

Also, while the Evolved design has nice details, I WANT THAT GUT BACK! it just looks weird otherwise with that disproportionately skinny waist.

But thankfully, our prayers might be answered:

With GxK's roaring success (ha!), it's more than likely that the next Monsterverse entry will finally give Godzilla an overdue character arc that doesn't begin and end with "destroy everyone and act big and scary and nothing else". Just please make sure that he doesn't have to die to get that. There are plenty of ways you can make us invest in the guy's story without having to kill him. I WANT to see more of that emotional vulnerability teased across the movies. I want to see him come to terms with how he's been going about his job. And more importantly...I want to see a more explicit Mothzilla scene. A nuzzle and everything. But that's just me.

Whatever the quality of his current status, nothing is taking away how much I love this version of Godzilla. He's taken me out of some very dark places, and for that, I say long live the king.

Also, he brought Mothzilla into the public sphere and every Mothzilla pic made since is the cutest thing ever, so I just love him even more.

[sparklecarehospital]

hello hi!! I got into sparklecare around february of last year because of a friend I believe and since then its been one of my biggest interests!! I also enjoy all of the various aus that have been made!! ur like one of my biggest inspirations :] thank you for making awesomecool stuff!!

💖💖💖💖 thank you so much!!! I'm really glad it makes you so happy!!!!!!!!! This means a lot to me!!!!!

[ninjakk]

A friend who, unfortunately, likes JC defended him a lot to me when I was first watching the donghua then read the novels. Perfectly honest, I thought he was a loser but my friend kept defending him for being able to pull the Jiang sect together after the LP massacre but...I don't know? Did he really? wasn't it more WWX's reputation that pulled the sect up and high? Is JC actually a good leader? I have trouble seeing that

Hi anon 😊

Ah yes, I have been there as well unfortunately!

Although I was respectful of their opinion, it seems we no longer talk haha 😆 Perhaps it was something to do with the time they claimed JC hunting down and torturing innocent people who used guidao was "just a baseless rumour" - to which I casually responded with proof it was certainly not a rumour. I mean, JC literally encouraged JL to kill them and feed them to his dog for a start 😂 I don't think that was a joke in the slightest lmao. Honestly, I didn't expect them to take offence at the evidence proving otherwise, since we enjoyed discussing the novel and debating such things anyway! But, hey-ho!

Hmm, the whole "restoring the Jiang sect to its former glory" debate is a major source of discourse between MDZS fans! I mean, JC did join forces with the Twin Jades of Lan and launch a surprise attack on the Wens in order to secure their confiscated swords. Which I have to say, I always found so hypocritical and two faced of him to do... You know, considering he not only unjustly blamed LWJ for everything that happened to LP, but even wished WWX had left him and JZX to die in the cave prior to the attack as well! And he calls WWX shameless...

But even so, JC seems to have worked hard in the three months WWX was missing. Attacking the Wens supervisory offices and hunting down WC alongside LWJ and the respective cultivators under their command. Even WWX praised his efforts when they were all reunited. So credit where credit is due, I guess.

That being said, it works both ways! WWX's efforts should not be ignored either - which I often find the case whenever JC is praised for his accomplishments regarding the Jiang sect. WWXs new cultivation path is what helped them gain an upper hand during the Sunshot campaign, he garnered much praise and admiration during the war - it was only in the aftermath that people began to turn against him, especially seeing the obvious lack of loyalty or protection from JC. But WWXs guidao most certainly helped rebuild the sect's reputation and enticed new disciples as well. JC even gave his blessing for WWX to showcase his cultivation during the Mount Baifeng night-hunt, in order to recruit even more disciples! So I agree with you, WWX's new cultivation path was one of the driving forces in helping elevate the sect to its former glory, perhaps even beyond.

As for whether JC is a good sect leader? Honestly? No.

Evidence would suggest otherwise, in my opinion. Some like to pretend JC is the beloved sect leader of Yunmeng - but that's far from the case. He's made the sect less approachable, closed its doors to the public and scared away those seeking help on matters he doesn't deem worthy of his attention.

The general public seem frightened of him because of his awful personality and the fact they have witnessed him torturing innocent people. His own disciples seem to feel like they have to walk on eggshells around him and be careful of his famous temper. He seems more focused on pushing JL beyond his limits and imposing his own insecurities on the poor kid than actually helping others with their problems. When he's not doing that, he's off hunting down his latest unsuspecting victims to torture and do god knows what to!

So no, I don't consider him to be a particularly good sect leader, his priorities do not align with what I (or I would assume most others) would consider as such. A great leader is able to get along with others and inspire their disciples. They should also be able to secure backing from the general public by being present and approachable when issues arise.

Let's put it this way - LWJ was given the title 'Hanguang-jun' a title befitting of how the public perceive him, righteous and willing to help others. JC also has a title, that of 'Sandu Shengshou', which is in relation to a Buddhist saying regarding the three poisons - the root of all turmoil. Certainly not a good public image to have! Even the general tone of anyone talking about him isn't overly respectful - people rarely call him by his courtesy name unless they are addressing him directly. Otherwise, it's his birth name, which of course, is highly disrespectful unless you are very familiar with said person. MXTX made a deliberate choice for the public to call him 'Jiang Cheng' instead, so it is certainly significant and shows us that he is not well respected or liked by the general public and even other cultivators! This is in the first few chapters as well! All in order to set the tone of how JC is perceived. I mean, even the narrator (which is of course a stand alone entity/person and not WWX as many wrongly assume) calls him JC instead 😂

Overall, I think JC did put effort into building his sect up again, but WWX certainly deserves equal credit for that as well. That being said, it doesn't alter the fact he's not a very good leader in the sense I would consider, and I think that's been made more than apparent in the text as well.

[unoriginal-and-dumb]

heello do you have any tips for noobie artists? ur art is just so very neat to me :) plz never stop arting

Never do what I do unless it is drawing all the time

Use references!! Always use them!!! Seriously please use references never let a stupid little rat in your ear take that away from you, they are always so valuable

If you see art you like, don’t be afraid to basically try recreating the same exact thing. All you have to do is not claim it as youre own, and better yet don’t post it online! It’s for practice, people don’t need to see practice in the end it’s only for you

Tracing is NOT wrong. I’m tired of people saying ohhh tracing is bad don’t do it ITS LITERALLY NOT!!!! Just don’t trace over someone else’s work/images and claim it as your own it’s that easy. If youre struggling with hands take photos of your hands and trace over it! Break them down into simple forms until you have an understanding of them in a meaningful way!

Do some studies of specific things. Struggling with leg anatomy? Draw a page full of legs, just push and pull and scribble and see what works, study images and see how you can reproduce it or stylize it

Never feel like you need to find your own art style immediately, that task is practically impossible. Everything comes from something, be inspired by others take little art bits from styles you like and only then can you create your own style!! (I mean dawg my style can be broken down into adventure time, owl house, invader zim, gooseworx, eddsworld, sr pelo, a few others im probably forgetting)

Don’t worry about broadcasting your work, not everyone needs to know all that you draw, the internet can be a hateful place and it really does suck a lot but also try not to rely on strangers online for support on everything you do, I know it is hard and that approval feel good I cannot deny it but remember to keep some stuff for yourself, a little treat where nobody can criticize you :)

Try to draw everyday! Or having a sketchbook where you make it a goal to completely fill 2 pages a week, and if that’s too much then just some doodles! Art takes a lot of constant practice, and there’s really nothing more fun than just having a little sketchbook with you where you draw random stuff all the time. When I was doing that I would make 2 page mini invader zim comics

I feel like a bit of a hypocrite because I do maybe 1 of these things but i know they are really good, I have done them before and they were super helpful! But in the end I think the best you could do is just keep at it! Don’t let people get you down, do your own thing, break rules if you want, it’s all art and art is AWESOME!!!!!!!

[vapolis]

The ethnicity (or the real world equivalent ethnicity, rather) ask makes me wonder about Vapolis. Of course the city shows a cosmopolitan nature, but now I wonder more or less where the city would be ubicated, roughly, if it was part of the real world. And what would be the real world ethnicities that woud be more populous there?

Now, I wasn't really thinking about my merc ethnicity at all beyond physical appearance (that is, mostly colouring), but it seems interesting to give it more thought. I do assume you would want to make the whole thing free for the reader to decide, making any potential ethnic background available, in a similar way as you do with gender. Yet, I do enjoy making MC's that fit the world as much as possible. And playing as a different ethnicity than my own (I'm Latino, technically mestizo, I guess, but closer to white than anything) can be fun and enlightening. Or so I learned when I played another IF (Merry Crisis, I think it's the title) where you have to be Singaporean. It's always an interesting thought process to have, since you come to realize some cultural differences and similarities between your own culture and others.

Of course, this IF is purposely nebulous on this matter, as most IFs tend to be (to allow the player to make themselves as much as possible).

I'm wondering more from a slight ethnographic curiosity than anything. But also probably would help me with deciding a name for my merc, since I do enjoy making the entomologies of my MCs names make as much sense as possible in the world's they inhabit. Here I understand I have a lot of freedom in that regard, yet, freedom can be a curse since it means an infinity of choices with not clear boundaries other than taste and aesthetic compatibilities.

I wish I had a grand answer to this or specific location in mind, but to be honest I was mostly inspired by cities I've been to or want to visit.

especially Tokyo and Berlin play a big inspiration in how the city looks and should feel like, but I can't imagine vapolis being either in Japan or Germany or around that area. I want the city to feel independent to anything we have in terms of actual cities even if I draw inspiration from it and, seeing as, especially Berlin, is known to be a city that's full of cultures meeting and people from all over the world finding a home here, even if only for a little while, I want Vapolis to feel similar.

there's no ethnicity that's the most wildly spread in vapolis and it's a big mix of cultures and people and traditions clashing to make new ones.

I know that's not what you're looking for in terms of answer to decide for your own merc, but I really want everyone to feel free in choosing the name or ethnicity or anything else about the merc. they're your character now, and as we have seen from the ROs and side characters, the names are all a wild mix of old and new and strange :)

[201xs]

i generally have a lot of pet peeves when it comes to the discussion of art (especially online but that goes without saying), which is to be expected as pretty much everyone's exact interpretation of any given work of art and art in general varies wildly person to person, and pretty much any discussion there is to be had surrounding art and the creation of art has been beaten to death over the years (but especially recently due to afforementioned internet),

all that preamble to say that i hate it when people say "its okay to make bad art" or "making bad art is necessary to get good at art" or "make more bad art", when what they really mean is amateur art, messy art, unpolished art, "anatomically innacurate" art, or anything in that vein... because ultimately, there is no such thing as bad art, because all art is subjective (of course), but also because every work of art represents something, something personal, cultural, and emphemeral, it can represent a stepping stone on a journey, it can represent a passion, a fear, an inspiration, a desire, a thought - pretty much anything, and even if you disregard all of the theoretical & emotional elements at play you're still left with the fact that it is significant in some way, and therefore has value -

even when i struggled with my fine motor skills to the point where i couldnt draw a straight line and i struggled with simple tasks like buttoning up a shirt or plugging my headphones in, i still drew constantly because of what it meant to me, because i loved something, because i wanted to share my passions with others, and i still do! and i dont think any of my old art is bad at all, in fact im still very fond of it

[gorouenjoyer]

-Differences-

 We’re not too different 

A fanfic mildly inspired by kamiverse’s tfl

(half cannon universe half modern au)

Themes - Romance, angst, smut, betrayal

Pairings - Gorou×reader, Lyney×reader, Neuvillette×reader, Zhongli×reader, Albedo×reader, Scaramouche×reader, Tartaglia×reader

Warnings- virgin!reader, Lyney is kinda a slut?-college!Lyney, college!Lynette, college!reader, collage!furina

Smut will be next chapter I promise<3

Opposites attract right?

We’re really different. Lyney and I have been friends since FOREVER, he was an orphan who was adopted and raised by this figure he calls “father” from what I’ve heard father is a fatui harbinger who was apparently a fellow Fontainian 

We met because I saw Lyney on the street one day doing some fun magic tricks. He wasn't very well dressed so I’d thought that I would talk to him, maybe even help him out if he needed food as my family was well off enough to donate to charity.

Lyney seemed harsh at first glance, it turns out that day his twin sister Lynette got taken away by aristocrats. So that day I made a promise to be by his side forever and make sure nothing bad ever happens to him or his sister ever again!

I lost contract with Lyney after that and during that time he got adopted by “father” and my mom lost her high paying job for a “undisclosed” reason

Now we’re both in our early 20s and in college, all three of us are studying at “La institution de fontaine éducationnel” or IFÉ. Lyney is studying acting as he’s trying to perform at “la opera epiclese” at some point while Lynette is studying engineering as she is hoping to help her brother cut costs by doing repairs herself. 

Lyney has always been extroverted and quite charming so Lynette is always complaining to you about how her brother has another girlfriend or boyfriend which you always respond to with complaining about how you're always single. 

One day however you’re complaining to Lyney himself about being single while he visits your dorm which leads to an interesting conversation about a way to potentially solve that…

“What? You’re still single with your looks?” Lyney asks while leaning on the wall“WAIT! Does that mean you’re a virgin?” he taunts with a big dumb smirk glued on his face

“W-well uhm- Y'know what? That’s a really weird and uhm, invasive? YEAH invasive question to ask a female friend” you manage to stutter out with as much confidence as possible in this situation

Lyney laughs and offers you a bet, “If you end up sleeping with 5 men by the end of the summer I’ll offer you 200k, but the catch is that you aren’t allowed to fall in love with them. You have to sleep with 5 men, no strings attached” you stare at him  with  confusion while wondering how serious he is but then Lyney adds with a smile “Y’know what for every man after the 5th I’ll add another 50k” 

Lyney extends his hand forward for a handshake “deal?” you think for a moment wondering if this is really worth it. You don’t have enough money to finish your course and with 200K+ you’ll have enough to finish your last 2 years of university, maybe even enough to spoil yourself a bit with new clothing and makeup. 

The only problem was the time frame, you’ll only have 4 months for 5 guys? Surely I can’t do that right? I haven’t slept with a single guy for what? 20 something years?  How can I sleep with 5 in such a short timeframe?

After a lot of consideration you decide to take up his offer so you reach out your hand, but suddenly in a random act of courage or stupidity you add “I’ll accept your offer but on one condition, you’ll be the first guy” Lyney looks taken aback? Confused? Uncertain? No idea, but what you can notice is the light reddining of his cheeks.

“What? Are you repulsed by the idea Lyney? How rude” you questioned in a jokey tone

Lyney’s eyes widened in shock “No no, not AT ALL. I was just surprised you asked in such a uncharacteristically bold manner” he exclaims in mild panic

“So when do you want this to happen?” he asks awkwardly

“Oh uhm.. Sooner the better I think but probably not tonight? You respond while fiddling your thumbs “Maybe in a few days? Y’know what I’ll message you!” you decide 

After Lyney quickly and awkwardly leaves you message your best friend and roomie, Furina

10:48PM

-reader-: GIRLY YOU’LL NEVER GUESS WHAT JUST HAPPENED

-Furina-: Did your lonely ass finally get a boyfriend?

-reader-: BETTER THAN THAT

-Furina-: WHAT? REALLY? DID YOU WIN THE LOTTERY?

-reader-: Ok just combine the last two ideas

-Furina-: YOUR ASS GOT A SUGAR DADDY??? HOW OLD???

-reader-: TF NO? 

-Furina-: I give up ;-;

-reader-: LYNEY SAID HE’LL GIVE ME 200K TO SLEEP WITH 5 MEN BEFORE THE SUMMER

-Furina-: WHAT?? ARE YOU GONNA DO IT???

-reader-: YEAH PROBABLY AND ON TOP OF THAT HE SAID HE’LL BE THE FIRST ONE :333

-Furina-: NO WAYYYYY SERIOUSLY? HE’S ACTUALLY SO FINE? I’M JEALOUS GIRL-

-reader-: You have a boyfriend who’s house you’re at right. now. HOW ARE YOU JEALOUS?

-Furina-: Uhm we don’t talk about thatttt, ANYWAYS GTG LOVE YOU POOKIE GL

-reader-: BYEEEEE<3333

You put down your phone for the night and decide to get ready for bed but while your trying to sleep all you can think of is what transpired today

When you wake up it’s already kind of late but your roommate isn’t back yet so you text her

11:17AM

-reader-: Hey wanna meet up at that cafe down the street later? Maybe at 12:30 if that’s good with you?

11:52

-Furina-: GIRL- I'M SO SORRY I SLEPT IN

-Furina-: 12:30 works BUT ALSO I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU WHEN WE GET THERE

-reader-: OMG OK SEE YOU >:3

A/N: I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG >W< I really wanted to get the pacing right for this fic cause I feel like I rush things

[howlsnteeth]

You've honestly been such a huge part of me discovering I was a therian and an inspiration to my art

I remember scrolling through pinterest one time and I saw your art and the like- pixel art-eque style with the red backgrounds, black silhouetted dogs, the messy lineart, bared fangs the multiple rings around the eyes- and most importantly was the captions you'd write, the quotes and I just remember instantly feeling like I was understood cause your art had themes of feeling unholy and like a monster and feeling like there was something inside that felt like it could come out at any second and the fear that had all while communicated through your drawing of canines

It was such a huge moment for me because it wasn't just like "I relate, that's so me" it was like- idk a realization but I didn't really like- explore it too much, that feeling. Instead I just tried to find the artist who drew stuff like that and ended up following you on tumblr and I became obsessed with canine venting and canine poetry

I'd start a vent account and reblog a lot of that type of stuff (including artists like dappermouth and savanthunder) and eventually I think I'd come to realize I might be a hellhound

I've deleted that tumblr since then but I've made a new one to explore and express being a hellhound. I just wanted to thank you cause your art truly has been super iconic to me and I think I'll always remember your style and those few pieces of your art that was on pinterest that inspired me. Your art is just super personal to me and means a lot 😭

I'm not trying to idolize or glaze you anything, I just wanted you to know cause it's been like 7 years now and I still remember your art like I had just discovered it yesterday!

But yea, sorry for the long read, hope you have a good day! And thank you, for everything!

holy shit this means a lot to me thank you sm!!!!!!! happy hellhound days!!!!!

[wordy-little-witch]

I absolutely adore your thoughts on Buggy and Sea Shanties. So I'd like to share an inspiration and a thought, Tale of the Shadow by Sail North.

What if that's the treasure Buggy seaked when he was younger and just as the lyrics he found it but the crew he put together was not loyal like his cannon lot so they where killed but the Shadow took a liking to Buggy after he survived. I'm imagining him flirting with the ship helped in that regard. Buggy captain of the Shadow.

Okay but that would he SUCH a good take. ((I love Sail North honestly you are fueling my obsession yesss)).

Consider maybe instead of Buggy actively SEARCHING for it, he stumbled across it. And the Shadow being less of a Prize To Be Sought and more of a grim omen, a harbinger of sea stories, among the many Buggy knows by heart.

His first crew, the ones cobbled together so soon after his first abandoned him - I'm honestly thinking they were sort of thrown together and Buggy took charge as he tends to do. And the rest fall in line at a surface level but only insofar as completing their goals. Buggy knows, he can see it, but really the only people he's ever had in his life who took him and his wants semi-seriously are dead or dead-to-him at that point. He doesn't care. It's a means to an end, he tells himself. He's using them as much as they're using him - no, he's using them more! In the flashiest of ways!!

And then they happen across a fog. And Buggy can Feel something out there that's Looking and Searching and Calling. He is absolutely not about that, no sir. He gives the orders to sail westward, navigating by the stars and not the log pose which is wobbling steadily to that Other Presence. The crew, if they can even be called that, are not happy with the order.

Buggy by this point is young still, maybe sixteen thereabouts at most, and he is the youngest on the ship. And the smallest. And seems the weakest.

He is not, the group learns terrifyingly quickly. He is thin, fast, skilled with a blade and smarter than he pretends to be. He's got experience under his belt and on his side against opponents bigger, stronger, better than him - and he's used to being outnumbered too.

The fight takes time and Buggy soon gets hit with a lucky shot, sending him sprawling to the deck and nearly crushed beneath ratty boots and cruel laughter. He is panting against the wood, straining to get up, to move, to fight or flee-

And he freezes.

The Presence is back and it's stronger than ever, right on top of them. It's only his resistance to Conquerors Haki which keeps him from so much as fluttering an eyelid under the sudden pressure choking the men and women alike on his ship.

Not many have the nerve to approach my hull with so little awareness.

Buggy goes still at the soft voice while the other's scatter, scramble, search for the interloper. They shout demands for the person to show themselves. Buggy merely pushes himself up enough to bow properly. That is no person, he knows, not in the way these bozos think.

There's a sudden whirl of air, rigging springing into motion, ropes and sails unwinding to snatch bodies and cut voices into choked gargling frenzies.

Buggy does not move. His head aches, his body sore, but his mind is racing over contingency after contingency. He needs to think, needs to figure out a way to survive this unholy clusterfuck of a situation-

He freezes as he catches a black intangible hem from his periphery.

A hand touches his head, soft despite the carnage swaying above by their will.

So small you are, little star, and yet so brightly you shine in the gloom...

A hand takes his chin, tilts his head up. Buggy squeezes his eyes shut.

Look upon me, star child.

"N-No," he declares decisively, though not impolitely. "It is disrespectful for mortals to meet the gaze of Spirits."

Ohhh, how bright you are, little star. What say the waves to my hull, what say the winds to my sails, that by which you are known?

He thinks for a moment, carefully, then answers. "I am called Buggy."

Oh, my sweet, my darling, how interesting you are, how clever, how wise for your sweet short years. By what means have the Fates forged a mind and soul like this? Such a gift to my heart, so intriguing.

"... what..." He licks his lips. "What say the sea, the winds, to that which you are called?"

... I am called many things, my junebug. But now? This Era knows me as The Shadow... but you knew that, didn't you?

"..."

Hm~ Yes. You will do nicely.

"What- aAA-!!"

Shhh, sleep, my sweet, let my love fill your pores and lungs. Dream sweetly under my spells and carry the blackened blessing of my Self with you into the Beginning and End. You, sweet Buggy, are destined for great things. I will carry you there, so long as you carry me in turn...

Buggy screamed into the wooden planks as blackness swallowed his senses, burning and baptizing his cells. The only thing he was aware of was the soft hand in his hair, the whispered assurances like dripping ink, and the pain.

Buggy was swallowed whole on a ship in the fog, cradled by a faceless being and guarded by corpses.

He awakens some time later on his ship, battered and damaged, dirty but warm under the warm, blazing sun. The rigging is damaged, the bodies gone. Buggy is alone, but, he finds sometime later, not unscathed. Staring back from the backs of his hands are two inky stylized emblems. The eyes stare into the air and space, offset by his skin.

He shudders.

He takes to wearing gloves.

He doesn't notice until weeks later that sometimes his shadow will smile at him, warm, loving, intelligent.

He learns more in the ensuing time, but not a word of it is ever breathed to another person.

One does not speak of deals with the fae, after all.

[romancefranaticstay]

・❥・Matching・❥・

Han x fem!reader

Category: angst, fluff, smut

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Sorry that i didn't post for a while, but i didn't had any inspiration. Now i have many stories in mine head i want to share with you all!

. . . . . ╰──╮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺⋆ ╭──╯ . . . . .

You and Han were in a friendgroup, which was very choatic. You two knew eachother for many years and also your friendgroup. But when you guys started dating, you didn't want to tell them. Because they would be dramatic, constantly kinda 'bullying' you two because of 'love' if you understand what i mean. Maybe you should have told them you were alreaddy dating Han Jisung...

The entire friendgroup was sitting in a very popular kind of cafe (you could say.) Many young people who were single came here. Ofcourse you all came here to, because you were obviously 'singel'.

You were sitting at the usual spot. You were sitting infront of Han, just looking at eachother. Letting your feet touch his. His dark staring made you giggle behind your menu card. It was weird your friends didn't notice yet.

'I am going to take some sprite.'

'Yeah me to.'

'I will get an coca-cola.'

'For me a Tonic, because i am not as childish as you.'

'Cool for you, Yoongi, cool for you.'

'What do you guys want, Han? Y/N?'

'Yeah for me also sprite.' Han said.

'For me just water.'

"Who's going to get it?"

"Can't we just wait, it won't take long."

"It will be much shorter if someone gets up now."

"I'll do it." you sighed.

'So three sprites for Han, Hanni and Jin. 1 Coca-Cola for Lisa, a tonic for Yoongi and water for me. Okay I got it.'

You stepped towards the bar, you could still hear your friends chatting behind you. The bar was quite large, with a lot of people sitting there. A young man came to you from behind the bar.

"What could it be, young lady."

'Three sprites, 2 colas, 1 tonic and 1 water.'

'I bet the water is for you.'

'Yeah, how come?'

'Your face is as clear as water.'

Your cheeks took on a slight tint. You didn't really know how to answer this.

'Thank you.'

You've heard a bit about this guy, apparently his name was Yeonjun. He wasn't much of a flirt, so you were surprised that he flirted with you. Han glanced somewhere towards the bar, where you were standing. He found the man annoying, he revolved around you. He clicked his jaw.

"It's a lot of drinks." Yeonjun said.

'Yes, there are a lot of us.'

'Will it work?'

'I hope so.'

You already grabbed three glasses in your hands.

"Let me help you."

he picked up his plate and placed the drinks on it.

"I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Yeonjun walked behind you with the drinks. Your friends were still deep in conversation, only Han saw you coming.

"I'm here, actually we."

Yeonjun placed all the drinks on the table.

'Thank you.'

'My pleasure young lady.'

He walked slowly back to the bar. You placed yourself next to Hanni again (in front of Han).

"Didn't you see him flirting with you?"

'Really?'

You knew he was flirting with you, but you weren't interested.

"You're clearly blind."

'Yes probably.'

"You know, ask for his number." Lisa said.

'Why?'

'He's cute, handsome and he's big. He can flirt.'

'Yeah so?'

Han looked at you with a dark look. He was dark.

"You two would be really cute together."

You looked briefly at Han, his teeth were gritted. He didn't want to look at your eyes right now.

'No thanks.'

"Think about it, okay?" Hanni said.

'Yeah sure.' you said sarcastically.

. . . . . ╰──╮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ╭──╯ . . . . .

After fifteen minutes your group of friends left. You guys went to the skate park and hung out there. You were loud again, shouting and giggling. It was nice, but you could tell that Han was very quiet today. You felt guilty for a reason.

"I'm going home, I'm not feeling so well." Han said suddenly.

"Should someone come with you?"

'Should I come?' you asked.

'No, no, I'm going...I'll go alone. Bye everyone.'

Everyone looked at each other a little strangely. Yoongi thought it was the weirdest. Because he always suspected that something was going on between you and Han. And not just because you're roommates...

. . . . . ╰──╮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ╭──╯ . . .

You walked home fairly quickly once everyone had already gone home. You were actually running. Street after street. Right and left. You opened the door and saw Han sitting on the couch. He was watching a series.

"Hey."

He turned his head so he was looking in your direction.

"Hey."

You stepped towards him and plopped down on the couch. His eyes were glued to the TV again.

"Han, is everything okay?"

'Yes.'

he wasn't looking at you.

"Han... are you sure?"

'Yes.'

You turned his head towards you, his head between your hands.

"Han... tell the truth."

"Are you guys really cute together?"

"We're cute together, not me and him."

His puppy eyes looked in your direction.

'Do you think that?'

'Yes, oh Han. You are the only one, you will remain the only one forever.'

Your thumbs caressed his cheeks.

'I love you Hani, I love you so much. Don't you know?'

He suddenly grabbed your legs and dragged you under him.

'Mmm, I know that. Lucky for you, that I love you to.'

He lowered himself to get a touch from your lips. His tongue immediately slipped into your mouth. You ruffled his hair.

“Gosh Y/N, I love you.” he moaned.

His hands touching every part of your body. He pulled his shirt over his head. His lips immediately went to your neck, licking in circles. He bit and nibbled on your sensitive skin. Your hands went to his pants, you took off his belt with one motion. Your hands pulled down his underwear. His cock was already hard, pumping full with blood. You started to stroke his cock slowly. Whimpers fell from his mouth. His hands went under your blouse. He cupped your breasts, he slowly started to massage them.

"Oh Han." you moaned.

You could already feel yourself being wet. Your underwear felt wet.

'You like that, don't you baby.'

One of his hands started to slip down. You felt his fingers moving from your breasts closer to your weakest spot.His hand slid into your underwear. His index finger slid through your wet folds. You whined softly. Then another finger slid in. He started pumping in and out of you very slowly. You clung to his arm. You nibbled his ear playfully. You felt your legs wobble. You felt yourself coming. You clung tighter to his arm. Your nails dug into his back. He started to go faster, hearing your moans in his ears. You came with a moan and rested your head on his shoulder. He stroked your hair gently before laying you on your back. He pulled down your panties. Your legs were already spread. He positioned himself at your entrance. Your hands interwined with his. You were already used to making love to him, so the stretch didn't hurt.

He started to move slowly inside you. His eyes never left yours. He held your hands, he kissed them. You loved his touch. Han loved seeing you underneath him. Your eyes always looked up at him. You looked like a Goddess. He cupped your cheeks and brought you in for a slow and tender kiss. He brought your hand to the bottom of your stomach. You felt his length hidden deep within you.

'You feel that?' Han panted.

'Yeah, I feel it.'

Your whole body was sweaty from the heat. The room had a sort of sex atmosphere. Suddenly Han started to push himself into you very quickly. It got you back and forth on the couch. Han felt his orgasm coming, so did you. He thrust into you with a fast pace. Your nails dug into his sweaty back. You arrived at the same time. Han propped himself up on his arms so his body didn't crush you. He took you in his arms. Your arms embraced his body.

"I love you Han."

you whispered before falling asleep.

“I love you too Y/N.”

. . . . . ╰──╮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ╭──╯ . . . . .