#another example of it not working as well would be when i found the memory that showed sonia's grave begore i found the memory of her death

[timegears-moved]

OMG IM GLAD IM NOT THE ONLY ONE BOTHERED BY PARTS OF TOTKS STORY LOLL I am not a fan of the sages at all

YEAH THE STORY IS MY BIGGEST COMPLAINT. and absolutely agreed on the sage stuff. i like the new sages because of my attachment to them from botw but as far as the actual sage plotline goes i don't give any shits about it.

[seat-safety-switch]

Yeah, I worked on The Machine. And, as I pried open its secret compartments and loosened its wiring harness and decrypted its memories, it worked on me also. Deep within its many hidden copses lay immense knowledge, unknown to all but those who formed it. Who built The Machine? No one knows. Everyone knows. I know. Now that The Machine works again, the person who last built it was me.

For years, I was a humble regular home-gamer mechanic. Something around the house would break. For the sake of argument, we'll use as an example the time my microwave blew up when I opened the door. One morning, it just went pop and never worked again. Well, at least until I fixed it. It turns out that the door had a little microswitch inside, and that microswitch got gummy with aerosolized food goo. Because it was gummed up, it wouldn't switch the computer off in time when I opened the door. That would be dangerous: I could get a full face shot of microwaves from the still-running magnetron. A safety interlock fired, and blew the brains out of the big fuse controlling the magnetron. It died for me. Replacing the switch, and the fuse, brought that microwave back to life. I did many such repairs. I was not prepared for this repair.

Fix after fix, I built up my confidence, and I got cockier. I'd pull broken machines out of the trash, mysterious foreign computers from another country. Some things escaped my grasp, and slipped further into oblivion. Most, though: most, I pulled back from the brink, and forced them to live again. That's when I found The Machine.

It was beautiful, intricate: thousands of parts, wedged together tighter than I had ever seen before, and a cryptic fault at the centre of it. When you cram together this much stuff, the complexity doesn't just add: it multiplies. To aid me, I looked for a guide, a factory service manual. The manufacturer laughed. The manufacturer's representative laughed. Someone who made it, who I tracked down on LinkedIn, hung up on me and refused to answer his door when I visited. Weeks later, he was gone, "dead" in a suspiciously convenient accident, a body left behind at the edge of his bleach-washed property with no identifying marks or fingerprints. I got the message: I was on my own.

This little wire just came unplugged. I guess someone must have dropped it. All better now.

[kanmom51]

Are you sure?! Episode 6 - Sapporo

Lessons in how to start an episode right here.

Jikook being all sentimental.

This is not the first time they were in Sapporo. JM was talking about six or seven years ago, while this came to mind straight away:

Sapporo snow festival February 2016.

One of those probably memorable moments.

This is such a young Jikook, this being one of the first louder JK moments at the time.

I'm sure they created some beautiful memories there. None as beautiful as the ones they created in Tokyo though.

That was theirs, and that is also why we don't get to share any of their Tokyo time in 2024. That is theirs and theirs alone. And yes, I know that JK was working part of their time in Tokyo, but see, if they weren't intending on spending time together, JM could easily have joined him a few days later. But he didn't.

Them sitting there on that sofa and talking about the show, btw, was filmed most likely at the end of their trip, just before leaving for the airport and home.

This is them leaving Sapporo.

28 November 2023. Basically 2 weeks before they enlisted. Them sitting down, at the very end of their last trip before enlistment. Understandably emotions would be heightened. And that trademarked move of JK's...

Moving on to their arrival in Sapporo.

Ok, so as I mentioned in my Jeju posts, I saw a clear shift in JK in Jeju. Lighter. A weight lifted off his shoulders. He was the same here, even more so. But the one I wanted to talk about was JM. Because I felt like here, in Sapporo, is where we see that same shift in him. In CT he was sick but content to be with JK. In Jeju he was happy but still felt a little distant (not from JK but not allowing himself to fully let go), less touchy feely with JK, like he was holding back (with all of the shifty cheeky behaviour that was going on he still felt like he was holding back). But here, he's just all in. He's handsy and touchy feely, and talkative. So so talkative. I won't lie, I was a little shocked. In the best way possible. This was a side of JM we didn't get to see for such a long time. Free. Open. Some of the conversations they had, and some of the things JM talked about, never in 100 years would I have thought he would bring them up on his own accord and share his thoughts with us about them.

This one for example:

JM talking about this so openly. JK's reaction or lack thereof makes me feel like this wasn't the first time the subject came up with the two of them.

Not to say that I don't think that JK was taken aback by JM bringing it up there and then. His initial reaction was not stressed but maybe a little worried?

But with saying that, imo this is not the first time he's heard this. And the maybe a little worry is not about the subject and more about the timing of the convo.

Happiness.

That is what I see.

Even when having this conversation, which is not an easy one to have for the two of them.

Remember how the subject of being married with children came up during Festa 2020? Remember how the two stayed conspicuously silent on the matter?

And yet, JM brought it up there and then, openly, with a smile on his face, his hand not leaving JK's shoulder for one second during this whole convo.

All and all it was just so heartwarming to see them throughout the whole episode. Like I said, they just looked happy. To be there, together, with each other, making new memories to take with them for the next couple of years.

Back to them arriving in Hokkaido, can someone please explain to me why JK found the need to change that camera angle to show us JM's hand on him?

JM well aware and letting go pretty much immediately.

Next we had them in the car/van/whatever it was. Doing this:

Ok then, what to say here?

What indeed?

Truly, I'm seriously asking here, because I'm kind of at a loss for words, lol.

Just another one of those super sus super "nothing platonic going on here" moments.

Kind of like this one.

But the eye squint, that smile, lip pucker and shoulder lift...

This sequence:

Really JK?

Can you be any more obvious?

🤣🤣

Just two dudes going on a dude vacay, right?

And JK once again when hungry... looking for his food is he?

Oh, and last but not least:

This is how 2 people enter a room when they are well aware of the camera in the room:

And this is how 2 people are caught off guard by a candid camera placed in a room they weren't supposed to be entering together...

Oopsy.

Well my friends, that is how you start off an episode. We have emotional, we have cheeky, we have sus as shit, we have happiness and fun, and we have an audience that is now glued to the screen screaming for more!!!

[grunckle]

Qualia and Ascension in Rain World

(To clarify I'm mostly talking about base-game lore and not including Downpour, but honestly most of these things can transfer over)

Qualia

One thing that’s relatively hidden in Rain World’s text and subtext is the concept of qualia. Qualia is described as being, “sensory experiences that have distinctive subjective qualities but lack any meaning or external reference to the objects or events that cause them.” It’s a personal sensory experience that cannot be comprehended by another person other than the individual themself, and are often hard to convey via language.

Qualia is a reoccurring motif in Rain World, but what’s more important is the way in which it’s conveyed to the player. The picture that’s painted is that of a world or civilization that placed a great importance on the individuals’ experience, and it’s shown through pearls or environmental details.

Here are some examples of qualia appearing in the text through pearls.

“It's qualia, or a moment - a very short one. Someone is holding a black stone, and twisting it slightly as they drag their finger across the rough surface. The entire sequence is shorter than a heartbeat, but the resolution is extraordinary.”

“A memory... but not really visual, or even concrete, in its character. It reminds of the feeling of a warm wind, but not the physical feeling but the... inner feeling. I don't think it has much utility unless you are doing some very fringe Regeneraist research.”

“This one... is authored by Five Pebbles, when he was young. There has been an attempt to scramble the data, but it's sloppily done, and most is still somewhat legible. It's written in internal language, or thoughts, so it is hard for me to translate so you would understand.”

But the most prominent examples of qualia and it’s importance in this world are the Memory Crypts and possibly ancient naming conventions. The deep purple pearl (shortened) found in Shaded Citadel states,

“In this vessel is the living memories of Seventeen Axes, Fifteen Spoked Wheel, of the House of Braids (…) Seventeen Axes, Fifteen Spoked Wheel nobly decided to ascend in the beginning of 1514.008, after graciously donating all (ALL!) earthly possessions to the local Iterator project (Unparalleled Innocence), and left these memories to be cherished by the carnal plane. The assorted memories and qualia include:”

Ancients likely mutated their own neural tissue into the cabinet beasts we see in Shaded, which were used to store their memories and qualia before ascension. Even james said once "how 5 pebs got the rot is a good hint here" in response to someone asking how cabinet beasts work, and how they're made.

Adding on to this, ancient (and iterator) naming conventions seem to be built off of the concept of qualia, with them focusing on individual images or experiences.

Nineteen Spades, Endless Reflections

Droplets upon Five Large Droplets

Two Sprouts, Twelve Brackets

Looks to the Moon

Generally, this all points to a world focused on the expression and preservation of the individual experience. You could even consider some of the echo dialogue as more evidence for this running motif, but I already have too many quotes lol.

Ascension

So now time to talk about my interpretation of ascension. In short, you turn into a worm, but I should probably explain more than that.

So its been surfacing on rw-tumblr that the light in the end of the game is called the egg in files. Although file names shouldn't be taken as fact or canon, it is pretty obvious given the birth imagery.

But something a little lesser known is what happens to the worm that takes us down to the void-sea depths. Void worms normally have a bright glowing effect, on their body, which is present for ours as well. But after it unhooks us, it swims down, and when it passes us on it's way back that glowing effect is gone.

To be honest, I don't really think this can be interpreted in many ways, but the most obvious one and the one I personally subscribe to is that the worm laid the egg. Biology and spirituality really aren't that different in Rain World, it's implied that karma is stored in the brain through Five Pebbles's slideshow. Adding on to that, we see voidspawn after eating an iterator neuron. One's spiritual state is innately tied to their mental state, and that dictates what and what they can't perceive.

And for that reason I decide to take a more biology leaning approach to what happens in the ending. At face value, we are fertilizing the egg of a void worm to be reborn into a voidspawn.

Not only do void spawn and void worms have multiple characteristics in common, (worm like bodies, tendrils/tentacles, glowing heads, void spawn look microbial and void worms are likely some of the oldest "life" in game)

but voidspawn are seen inside egg-like coverings and share the same egg light seen in the end of the game, confirmed to be the same thing by Videocult in a livestream they did.

I believe that all this points to ascension being re-birth into a voidspawn, which eventually undergoes metamorphose into a worm. Higher-dimensional beings, who manifest and give birth to a new world.

So how does this tie in with qualia? Another thing you might know is that the area in which void spawn are most plentiful is Shaded Citadel and areas in Shoreline near Shaded. And shaded is absolutely packed with Cabinet Beasts, even outside Memory Crypts. I believe these qualia-storing creatures are what manifest voidspawn.

From what we see in ascension, it still looks physical and largely based around the real world. Hunter still has his scars and see's an iterator, survivor sees the slug tree in a more mystical and formless state, and monk sees survivor frankly just looking like a normal slugcat. I think that ascension is a product of qualia. We transcend our earthly knowledge via the egg, and our own qualia is used to give birth to a new world. This is why voidspawn appear most in Shaded Citadel.

Now I won't be getting into Void-Worm theories too much here, I'm mostly focused on ascension but I can't ignore the Gnosticism parallels. For those who don't know, Void Worms heavily resemble the Yaldaboath from Gnosticism, along with sharing some similar celestial motifs.

and running with that some people theorize that, like the Yaldabaoth, void worms are responsible for manifesting the material world. Ascension seems to be a mix of the concepts of Gnosis and Nirvana, but I believe it might lean more on Gnosis.

From my limited knowledge, Gnosis is a few things, some of which being a state achieved from experiences or intuitions, and an essential part to salvation is personal knowledge. While researching a bit, I came across this text by Peter Wilberg called "From NEW AGE to NEW GNOSIS" which brings up some comparisons between Gnosticism and qualia as well.

"Gnosis is subjective knowledge of an inner universe made up not of matter, energy, space or time but of countless qualitative spheres or ‘planes’ of awareness – a knowledge obtained directly through inter- subjective resonance. It is the subjective science of this inner universe."

One thing though that has been brought up when discussing this is how this can be consolidated with the tone of the ending. It is pretty un-ambiguously happy, but if we're going with the Void worm Yaldaboath theory then that would put a bit of a sour twist on it right?

I agreed with these for some time, but now I actually think it ties in perfectly with Rain World's core themes as stated by the devs, "overcoming differences and finding empathy." I don't think the void worms are "evil" or malevolent, but I think they (and subsequently us after ascending) play a key role in demonstrating this theme.

By manifesting the physical world, we allow these souls to experience life and develop their own qualia so one day they can ascend themselves. We are shown compassion, and pass it forward.

[youremyheaven]

Vedic Astrology Observations

1. Punarvasus tend to be very spiritual if not religious. They find peace in prayer. Another thing I've noticed is that they are very sexually conservative (probably because of their cat yoni). Mariah Carey, Punarvasu Moon was a virgin when she married her first husband and waited until marriage to be intimate with her second husband as well. She was engaged to James Packer for 18 months and they reportedly never had a physical relationship.

Miranda Kerr, Punarvasu Moon was in a relationship with Evan Spiegel for 3 years and waited until marriage. Drew Barrymore, Punarvasu Moon has said that she's been celibate since her divorce in 2016.

2. Mariah Carey, Punarvasu Moon speaking of the nature of light & time , her memoir has multiple chapters titled with light-related names and even sooo many of her songs , including Butterfly (Punarvasus are connected to butterflies)

3. Moksha gana nakshatras embody the trickster archetype. They also often argue or provoke people simply for the heck of it. 2/3 Moon ruled naks (Rohini & Hasta) are Moksha gana and it makes sense as to why they fuck with people just because they can, they have nothing to gain from it and it serves no purpose, they're evil for the heck of it. They'll go to any length to ruin you even if they ruin themselves in the process.

Moksha means liberation in Sanskrit (Sanskrit is a classical language like Latin that is pretty much only used in a scholarly context) and is one of 4 purusharthas or motivations assigned to the 27 naks. The others are artha (wealth) kama (pleasure) and dharma (duty). Moksha would be located at the very top of Maslow's hierarchy of needs, which means an individual with Moksha gana naks has transcended all the other base level motivations of accumulating wealth, seeking pleasure and doing one's duty. What is left to do now? If an individual is evolved, they actually seek liberation through their spirituality but if they are not, not only are they unbothered by any ordinary human motives, they lack the ability to devote themselves to anything ordinary because they simply dont care about getting a job or building a house or whatever. this means they also kind of exist beyond normal social norms?? go up against a Moksha gana native/Moon dominant person and the kind of arguments they'll use against you will reveal this nature of theirs. like they will have zero issue using your every vulnerability and insecurity against you just to win an argument or put you down. they hate to look "weak" so they will tear you apart just because they can, with no regard for any history you share. there are people who defend this by saying "oh well i was mad" babygirl everybody gets mad, but if someone isnt raising their voice, being petty or singling you out and bringing up your past to make you crumble, its not because they're incapable of it, its because they have principles.

Moksha gana naks love to play devil's advocate.

4. Rahuvians have bad memory, they probably repeat the same stories in different ways every few weeks lol

5. Saturnian women often marry billionaires according to Claire Nakti and I recently found some more examples of that:

** Mariah Carey, UBP Sun was engaged to Australian billionaire, James Packer who used to date Miranda Kerr, Pushya Rising (both these women are also Punarvasu Moon), Miranda is now married to the CEO of Snapchat.

** Lisa Manobal, UBP Sun is dating Frederic Arnault, a French billionaire

** Elle Macpherson, UBP Sun was in a relationship with Arpad Busson with whom she had 2 kids (he's not a billionaire but he does have a net worth of $500 million)

6. Nominative determinism, literally "name-driven outcome", is the hypothesis that people tend to gravitate towards areas of work that reflect their names.

but i thought i'd use it in the context of astrology and how most people are subconsciously given names that reflect their nakshatras

ex: Angelina Jolie

the name Angelina is an expansion of Angela which is derived from the Greek word Angelos which means "Angel" or "messenger". Angelina has Revati Moon which is a deva ("godly" nakshatra) and Jolie is the French word for "pretty" and Angelina has Venus in 1h and is Pushya Rising (these were two of the biggest beauty indicators according to Claire's research)

(its so cute to me that her name is literally Angel Pretty bc damn right she is)

Yara Shahidi (Revati Moon)- Yara is the name of a water spirit and in Portuguese it means "Water lady" (Yara has stated that her name means one who is close to your heart, but names can have several different meanings) and Shahidi means "witness" in Persian. I feel like all of that really ties together with Revati being in pisces rashi and the last nakshatra that is "witness" to everything else etc

[del-thetiredwriter]

Saintess of dragons part 3

Part 1 , part 2

English is not my first language.

Gif is not mine

Warning: female reader, not really dark themes.

You watched with sadness as the stone coffin sank into the sea. You were guilty. You felt regret for her death. You could have saved Laena, but you didn't because of your cowardice and selfishness. Rhaenys and Corlys lost their daughters, Laenor lost his sister, the girls lost their mothers because of you.

You didn't speak at all during the funeral. You just hugged the girls and offered your condolences to the Velaryons. Afterwards, you went to your room like everyone else.

.

When you opened the door, you saw a silhouette that you didn't recognize, with her back turned, on the seats. Silhouette of a woman. The woman turned towards the door and smiled and curtsied as she saw you.

“I greet the saintess.”

She was a brunette and elegant woman. Her long hair came down to her waist. She had an attractive yet disturbing smile. It wasn't a reassuring smile, but it fit her mysterious aura.

You straightened your stance. The woman spoke again:

"Would you like tea?"

"Who are you?"

You asked coldly. No one could enter your room without your permission. House Targaryen was also included.

“I am the person you are looking for. I am the person you are desperately looking for, the one who can send you back to where you came from. Shall we talk a little?”

You hesitated for a moment, but you had nothing to lose. You should have taken this gamble. It was the first time in years that anyone had talked about where you came from.

You closed the door and sat across from the woman.

“Please allow me to introduce myself again. I'm Elenor. And I am the person you are looking for. The witch who can open the portal.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“You are already showing that you trust me by sitting across from me. Besides, it's the first time in years that someone is talking to you about the portal. You have no choice but to trust me."

She was right. You tightened your skirts nervously. You tried to look calm.

“So Elenor, why did you come now? Why did you come especially now?”

The witch smiled.

“Oh my lady there is something you especially need to do today. I came to remind you. But before that, we still have time, so I'd like to explain things a little to you. For example, why you don't age or why you suddenly lose your memories."

"Continue."

“The portal door opened 15 years ago, of course I didn't open it and I still don't know why it was opened. However, my lady, you are not from this world, so time and fate do not work on you because you are not in destiny anyway. It's like time has stopped for you. However, you once tried to change fate. You remember. It made you suddenly forget some of your memories.”

You nervously took a sip of your tea. You remembered that time very well. Elenor continued.

“No one can change fate, but you, who come from another world, can because there is nothing binding you. However, every time you change destiny, you become a part of this world. And as you become a part of this world, you lose the memories that connect you to your world, that is, your self.”

With what Elenor said, everything fell into place now.

“So why are you here?”

You asked again.

The witch took a sip of her tea.

“I want to make a deal with you. Prevent this war from happening and I will send you back home.”

Elenor held out her hand to agree. A silence fell in the room.

"Do you realize what you're saying-"

“You need me or you can't go back home.”

Elenor interrupted.

You tightened your skirts. She was right. You wouldn't have found your way home without her help.

“Okay, I accept your offer .”

You reluctantly shook the witch’s hand. The brunette smiled and stood up. She moved towards the window. She looked at you for the last time.

“Then we agreed. See you until our next meeting, Saintess. And you'd better act quickly, because it would be better for you if the crown princess's blood wasn't shed tonight.”

When she jumped from the window, you rushed towards the window, but the sorceress had disappeared. You should have acted quickly.

.

You were walking through the corridors with fast, running steps. The rustle of your skirt echoed off the stone walls illuminated by torches. You finally reached the room and threw open the large doors.

All the courtiers had gathered except you. Alicent stood disheveled next to Visersy.

When you saw Aemond's face up close, you felt truly sorry.

Lucerys and Jacaerys were with their mother.

You sighed. Here we go, you thought.

“The legitimacy of my son's birth was put loudly into question. Called as bastards. My sons are in line to inherit the iron throne your grace. This is the highest of treasons. Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so-”

Rhaenyra was speaking, but you interrupted her and intervened.

“Excuse me, my king, but it's late and I don't think anyone can think clearly in their current state of mind. It would be best for everyone to return to their rooms.”

Just as Alicent and Rhaenyra were about to protest, you spoke again.

“The children of the princess are the legal heirs to the throne. Don't worry, I will personally intervene in this matter. And my Queen, I understand you, but if anyone is responsible for this unfortunate incident, it is me, so if you wish, I would give up one of my eyes for the prince.”

Alicent bit her lip. Rhaenyra was not fully satisfied. No one could object because you intervened in the incident.

"There's no need." Said the tired queen in a defeated voice.

“Then I will grant the little prince one wish in return. Apart from that, please everyone go back to their rooms now. It's been a tiring day.”

Visersy nod.

“Saintess is right everybody shall return to your quarters.”

While everyone involuntarily returned to their rooms, Daemon continued to sit in his chair, grinning. He slowly stood up and started taking slow steps towards you.

“Wow, this is the first time you've used your authority. Very strange."

"What are you talking about." You spoke harshly. Being alone in the room with him made you nervous. As he moved towards you, you took a step backwards until your back was finally pressed against the wall.

“Whose side are you on exactly, huh? You were inactive until the morning now-“

“You make it up in your head. Besides, I'm not on anyone's side." You interrupted him.

The white haired man laughed.

“We'll see about this, little saintess.”

He kissed you on the forehead.

"Good night then." He waved his hand and left you alone in the room.

[ikilledmyhamster]

Okay listen, what I love about BTD kid au is that Strade, rire, & sano were friends ever since childhood. I mean it's adorable if you actually think about it 😂

I do have a headcannon story that I would like to tell you all so feel free to read this!

I still don't know how the three met, it's kind of like that one trio where they don't even know how they met each other in the first place so let's just go with that. But I'd figured it would go something like this.

Story: Strade was an only child and had no friends due to his behavior. He met sano when he was around probably 6-7 who was stuck in a pond with ropes around his tail (Sano). Strade upon seeing a young boy with a snake tail, was curious and decided to help him...but the two ended up in the rope and it took 2 hours for them to get themselves free. Strade and sano became friends after that and strade didn't even bother asking about why sano had a tail.

The next part is where the two met rire which is kind of in a weird way. Strade got home from his kindergarten and decided to play with sano as the two were close, sano has an idea to summon a demon, which wasn't normal for a child to say that but hey, he's a naga demon so what do you expect? Anyway, they summoned a demon and you might be asking how and why they did it. Well one; They were pretty dumb kids and also just curious, two; Sano found rire's 'symbol' online for odd reasons and decided to try it. They successfully summoned kid rire but...they interrupted his tea time which made the demon prince angry (Btw he's a prince because his family is still alive, so he ain't the demon king yet). After a full on rampage that goes on for about a few hours, they were able to come into an agreement to become friends.

Childhood Moments: Strade, Rire, & Sano would build their own treehouse in their old neighborhood where they used to live, and they would make the treehouse pretty big. Of course the three had their own rooms and storage for their own stuff, by this time strade had an old camcorder, so he used it to create videos and/or memories of their childhood.

The three would go on adventures and weird places or even terrifying ones. Strades parents never really paid any attention to him so they didn't care if he left the house. Strade likes to draw or doodle in his free time, so he draws a lot of art of him, rire and sano. Sano and strade likes to pull pranks on rire. For example one time, they did a water bucket challenge but instead of it being normal cold water, it was holy water which burned poor kid rire skin. Of course he was not happy, but don't worry...he got his revenge.

Another childhood memory is that the three would occasionally watch horror films like slasher films. Especially paranormal activity, every time there is a demon or spirit that is possessing a person, sano and strade were pretty much scared while rire happily watches the scene. BUTTTT, when it comes to the exorcist scenes...Rire would immediately hold his friends with his tentacles while hiding behind them😂😂 (inspo from the photo above)

Another time, sano and strade did a research and they read that in old Russian ancient times, there used to be a saying that brownies could scare off evil spirits or demons. And so...they tried it on rire, the results did not disappoint them. The moment they bought a brownie cake and placed it on the table in front of rire...the poor boy disappeared. Which confused the two at first, but then they realized it actually works! Rire would stay in hell until he knows for sure, that the brownies were gone.

Treehouse: The treehouse that they built in the forest is still there standing stable till this day, and that treehouse holds a lot of childhood memory. Strade Sano & Rire would often sleep in that treehouse as their comfort zone and also since it's the place they mostly hang out in. They carved their names on the treehouse door, something like this; "LR+SK+S" Which obviously means in order; "Lucien Rire+Sano Kojima+Strade". Of course soon strade had to move out of his old town and so did sano and rire. They left their old treehouse but kept their stuff there.

Present: Whenever Y/N is free they sometimes go to the Kojima brothers house just to hangout or sleep over. One day they stumbled upon an old photo of the main trio. Rire in the center, strade on his left side and sano on his right side. The photo looked like it was taken a few years back and Y/N was able to open the frame and found a note attached to the back of the photo which had coordinates, which if your guessing correctly; Leads to their old treehouse. Akira & Y/N visited that place and found the treehouse with all of their stuff still there in the same places where they left it. And if they went all the way to the back, they would find a wooden box container which is filled with many cassette tapes and writing of dates. Strade would record those childhood videos and put them on cassette tapes so there was a lot of them. Of course, Y/N & Akira ended up watching some of the videos in the end and didn't bother telling sano, strade, or rire.

Anyway that's pretty much my version of the BTD main trio kid AU. Let me now which one should I do next down below here ⬇️⬇️⬇️

(Btw, credits to the art above belongs to @darqx)

[orphiclovers]

Avatar - fundamentally broken skill?

This is a thing I have been thinking about. The way powers (skills, stigmas, whatever) work in the world of ORV is fascinating in that they are not designed to help the incarnation or adjust to their bodies like a classical superpower. It's repeated many times that the Star Stream is a cruel place, so of course it makes nothing easy on them. Just look at how many times Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung bleed when using their skills. Or how Anna Croft and Yoo Joonghyuk were destroyed mentally by their repeated lifetimes - don't even get me started on Regression.

And Avatar is one of the skills that is the most developed. I've talked about how manifesting it seemingly splits you in two (I recommend reading this previous meta before this post) but what does that split entail, exactly? Here's my theories.

1. Author/Character divide.

If we take 1863rd Yoo Joonghyuk as an example, it's very clear cut. The black coat wearing YJH would be the 'character' who stays and dies and the white coat wearing YJH would be the 'author' who choses to write another story. 'Character' used here in the sense that Kim Dokja would look at them and be able to see/assign them this metaphysical trait, as he does for everyone else.

With Kim Dokja, it is basically easy too. 51% is the author, while 49% is the character, probably.

Han Sooyoung is more difficult. I think since Kim Dokja looks at 1863rd and says she is already a 'character', while 3rd stays a person the whole time IIRC, 3rd would be the 'author' self, even if this seems counterintuitive and like it should be the opposite - this makes the most sense with the second part of this theory.

Technically every author (or reader - someone with the knowledge of the narrative) becomes a 'character' (i.e forgets everything) at some point as per Star Stream rules, but this has not yet happened to Han Sooyoung of the 3rd round.

Still, it's not a perfect fit. Both Han Sooyoungs write novels and neither Kim Dokja does (not that writing is 100% necessary to be an 'Author', since YJH is one and barely writes anything until the epilogue) But it's still an interesting connection to explore.

Onto the second part.

2. Does the divide into two...actually work long term, because it doesn't seem to, based on the evidence we have?

First, let's look at 49% Kim Dokja. Perhaps Kimcom would have accepted him as the real Kim Dokja, like they do with Han Sooyoung, if he didn't ACT like a wet paper towel. The detoriation in mental faculties is very apparent and jarring and soon he falls apart physically too. This doesn't happen to 3rd Han Sooyoung, who is also an avatar, so what gives?

Well, it might not happen to 3rd but definitely did to 1863rd Han Sooyoung.

A 'probability storm is gnawing at her memories' and there's physical effects too. She says this has been happening for a while. Even though she has found a way of slowing down the effects it clearly doesn't fix the issue and eventually, despite her resistance, she might have become like 49% Kim Dokja.

(Maybe that's why she was so ready to leave her companions after the scenarios were over. If rereading stuff helps, perhaps that's also why she kept a diary of her round that 3rd YJH eventually got? Just spitballing, this isn't part of the theory.)

She names two possible causes to this detorriation - exessive use of the Avatar skill or Ways of Survival. 'Ways of Survival' probably refers to the Star Stream rule that once you reach the end of your knowledge you forget you were an author and become a 'character', which 1863 justifiably doesn't want to happen. Later, Kim Dokja comments on her 'status as a character' too, so it is related to that.

With 'overuse of Avatar' she could be refering to the way she makes thousands of them in her mind, but if we look at 49% Kim Dokja and the way their sympthoms match pretty closely, it's likely also the fact that another her - the main body/'author' - is running around in another worldline.

So for these two it checks out that one of the halves is always unstable.

With 1863rd Yoo Joonghyuk, well, it's hard to tell how it would have gone, since black coat YJH dies almost immediately. But the very fact that his avatar didn't even make it a couple minutes is also pretty telling.

As previously stated, nothing is stopping a skill from being harmful for the user. So maybe, one half of the initial avatar pair gets the short end of the stick and ends up slowly disintegrating. That's the basics of this theory.

Technically 51% Kim Dokja disintegrates into the Star Stream too but it is by a different mechanism, unrelated to the Avatar skill. First, he overconsumes probablility and shrinks into a child - this happens to Secretive Plotter too, it's just a thing.

Then, he loses his memories and if Kimcom hadn't interviewed would have become the same exact child that SP takes away in the subway, so that was just the time loop asserting itself. Like alt-1863rd YJH losing his memories when regressing to the 3rd round, or 1863 Han Sooyoung going dormant in Young Han Sooyoung's mind on the day the scenarios start. (Each of these are the looping points of the universe for yhk.)

But something about the way 1863rd Han Sooyoung in those 13 years sheds pieces of her story to create TWSA is very reminiscient of how 51% Kim Dokja disintegrates into the Star Stream on that subway. So perhaps there is some kind of connection there too.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

The lost episodes being more slow paced, filler like episodes with that have a strong vibe that something (or someone) is missing.

One episode is the younger members cleaning a bedroom in the mansion as punishment as it hasnt been used in a while and has a thich layer of dust and them getting distracted with all the cool and potentially dangerous stuff in there. Apparently, it's that mystery character's room, but, again, they never actually show up. Just have somber scene as everyone contemplates their friends, and someone mentions how much older they must be now. Reader think this character has good taste since the room looks very close to their own style ( and looks very familiar)

Another is that Jubilee (or another younger character) is hiding something in her closet, which is close to bursting. It's all these clothes given as gifts from the mystery character. But she's outgrown them and feels like awful that she's losing her connection to them, but she needs to get rid of them as she doesn'thave any space. It has a sweet message about letting go and always having someone in your heart, but Reader kinda wishes they got to see episodes of Jubilee wearing the clothes, they think they would have look good on her.

One episode is Xavier( or another adult) working himself near to death trying to find the character, and everyone worrying. It ends with a heavy hint of them being found as the adult stares into the screen with heavy relief. Reader swears their eyes dig into their soul.

Yes! I like it! I'll add a little to each one, if that's okay! (anyone who wants to add an idea for a filer episode, feel free to share your idea!) ( @thewickedweiner and @vivid-bun and @weebwholovesuchihasasuke!)

Episode One?: The younger characters stumble into a room that looks like it hasn't seen the light in years. A few posters line the walls, the bed has thick comforter and blankets in grays and brown and reds, there's old drawing books and classic literature on a nightstand, even a box of trinkets and a few clothes and items hidden in a closet. A thick layer of dust covers everything, causing several characters to sneeze. Some items are pretty cool, for example: fossilized clam shells, tumbled rocks, old books, animal feathers, shiny trinkets. And some are probably not as safe, such as: a knife they found, a notebook full of... it doesn't show... and a box full of old items that Logan and Morph are quick to tuck somewhere else. The characters mention some good old times, fighting alongside this mystery character, watching them grow, having fun outside of saving the day, old habits they had... They sound really cool to Reader, who notes their room is comforting, in shades that make them feel relaxed and at home, with items they'd find fascinating... Yet the episode is somber, with no one knowing where this character is or what happened to them, let alone if they're still alive... But it ens with the team promising to find them, and one or another putting things to rest, no matter what they find... (It leaves a sad feeling inside Reader, as well as a discomfort and feeling of dread...)

• Episode 12??: Jubilee is trying to hold onto the memory of the missing character or a friend of her's, but she can't hold onto the past forever. It's a needed message, one to help deal with grief amf moving on in a healthy way (or so Reader thinks). Jubilee has old clothes she can no longer wear, but were gifts from her friend, so she doesn't want to give them up. But she's reminded that her friend is still with her, and would want her to be okay, and that it's okay to move on, because they'll always be a part of you, always have a place in your heart. It's touching, making you smile a little, epically when the others comfort her...

• Episode 23???: What seems to be a final episode of the lost seasons (at least the first lost season, anyways) where Xavier and a few if the others have been working nonstop, trying to find this missing character, who's been mentioned the last season or two amd throughout the entire series, and everyone is afraid to hold onto that hope, wanting to either move on or run themselves ragged trying to find any trace of them... You watch with bated breath as the episode plays out, as various characters, even some villains or side characters, get involved... The team keeps trying to assure Xavier and each other they've done the best they can, that there's only so much they can do, that no one blame them for what happened- Amd then the last few minutes of the epsidoe depict a heavy hint that the characters found a clue, or that their friend was alive... and they were staring out at the screen again, as though they could see through it, too...

(I imagine a few episodes explore dealing with grief, guilt, and heavier emotions, while others show different places they've gone before with their missing friend, even a few where the villains or side characters get a day-in-the-limelight episode) (And some of what was in the box that Logan and Morph took, what was in the notebook, and a few hints as to what the missing character might have been like or little nicknames for them) (and Kevin is no help, playing the tapes whenever they're at the ReelTheatre, and jokes about not spoiling anything too early for Reader) (They walk Reader home one night, and are so glad to spend extra time with them!) (Bonus: some of the characters visit Reader or enter their home when they're asleep)

[starrysilvalley]

Time for the secondary protagonist of this tale, Emmet! He may have a familiar face— if only he had the same understanding of himself. He occupies more of a Virgil/mentor archetype, and within the Pokémon games universe he would be the closest to a Professor role.

To emphasize again, this project takes place in distant future of the Pokémon in-game universe. The plotlines of previous games are all considered canon up until Pokémon Scarlet and Violet. Anything past that is considered non-canon within the context of Spectrum. Emmet’s place in particular was based on the context of PLA and my own interpretations/theories on the subject of the twins when playing it (mostly answering questions like “where is Emmet”, “is he in present-day Unova or another time/place entirely”, “what happened to cause the separation”, etc.)

✨⭐️✨

Emmet is an amnesiac and fugitive against the New Unova League, as well as a surrogate father to Una. Despite being a verrry blunt and open book, Emmet remains a bit of a mystery. His earliest memory is waking up in the custody of the Pokémon League with nothing but his ratty coat and hat that just so happened to have his name stitched inside. Interregators told him he was found with illegal possessions (what type of possessions, he still doesn't know) and had been conspiring to eliminate the Champion. It was only through an intervention that he was able to escape with a mysterious little girl in tow. To this day, he still has no idea where he came from before his captivity or if he has any roots somewhere in New Unova. Although there will always remain the desire to know his true self, under the current circumstances, Emmet is focused more on his found family in Una and his business partner Fajra.

Due to his experiences, Emmet has a tendency to be more reserved… at least, sometimes. He is more mischievous than he first appears and typically uses this to his advantage when faced with more sketchy characters. He is very observant, but learned that his commentary can get him into trouble. It also may just be that he has become more restrained with his trickster side in order to show a good example to the young rascal in his charge. If he wants her to follow his safety guidelines, he should probably learn to follow them himself, right?

Emmet currently only has one Pokémon— a Neo Variant Liepard. If he had any other Pokémon prior to his amnesia, he has no way of knowing where they are or what they were. He acquired Liepard during his incarceration, but he’s never spoken on the specifics of how he acquired her. Regardless, their experiences together led to a strong comradery between them. Liepard is almost always out of her pokéball and flanking his side. For whatever reason, Emmet never pursued acquiring more Pokémon and seems to avoid Pokémon battles altogether. He’s never made it clear why this is the case. However, on the rare occasion where he and Liepard do battle, they are notoriously ruthless and almost perfectly in-sync. At the very least, he has shown to have a strong knowledge of battling, even if he doesn't seek it out.

I currently do not have as many sketches of Emmet as I do Una since I'm building Una from the ground u, and I struggle to find a design/style I like for him. This sketch of the pair and their Pokémon is one of my favorites.

My one other drawing I liked was an even chibi-er version of him (I don't usually draw in chibi style, but its proven to be the easiest to use), including some character notes from the time.

I've gone back and forth on a LOT of his character since I wanted to have his character explore a twist in the themes originally given to him by the creators. I know there are theories that Emmet is meant to embody truth while his brother embodies ideals, so its been an interesting challenge to work with this character in the dystopian context where truth is oppressed and often requires characters to abandon honesty. Its also difficult because Emmet is known for his optimism and I don't want to take that from him, even in a dystopian context. I believe his upbeat/mischievous nature helps him stand out from his brother, and quite frankly, I think even dystopian worlds could use some hope. I'm just more use to writing Ingo characters rather than Emmets. I'm hoping I can do this little guy justice :’)

[im-not-buying-it-ether]

Something that is endlessly dear to me is looking at the Tragic Backstory Dead Parents of characters and deciding to give them character for your own purposes.

Like, the Batsons were the dream. They were a couple that you could just tell love eachother to the ends of the earth and would never stop, CC is a story teller at heart and has the uncanny ability to spin the most boring day into a bedtime story adventure to dazzle and amaze his son, Marilyn liked hands on work and crafts and would make a whole game out of gardening with Billy.

One thing I did with my dad in childhood was visit what I remember being called a fossil park and how excited I was when I found something cool in the rocks, and I can’t stop thinking that somewhere deeply hidden away after Uncle E took over the house there’s a little wooden treasure box full of little fossils or bones or tiny tools Billy used to be like his parents everytime they visited one of those places.

The Batsons were wealthy and went all out on fun parties and events to celebrate with Billy, CC and Billy went as Batman and Robin every Halloween where Billy could say “Batman is so cool!” and before Billy was dressed as the “Bullet Bill” to CC’s Bulletman so he could dress up as his hero with his son in another mini-bulletman costume. Billy and Mary had the dream room every kid would’ve wanted, they both had a blast traveling in the summer with their parents for work and when they had to stay home with E or a nanny they called every day to ask all about what they were finding.

CC trusted and forgave to a fault his whole life, Marilyn was more perceptive and CC often listened to her judgment because she was often right about things. They taught their kids to do their best and always try to be their best selves, they led by example so it’s no wonder their kids ideals of heroism looks are “My mom and dad in supersuits”

They had to have been wonderful parents with the given amount of screw ups, to me, because their kids emulate them so much and Billy loves them even if his last memory with them is a bitter one because he was left home without Mary because his grades weren’t doing well and that led to him having everything taken from him when his parents died and never came back home. Mary in PoS specifically remembered her dad as looking like Captain Marvel with her amnesia bc Billy has his dads face and it’s very easy for her to think of her dad as a superhero, she can’t remember a thing about the man but she sees Captain Marvel and maps his face and features to what fuzzy memories she had of her parents and her brother.

I just… love the Batsons who were able to be part of their kids lives unlike the older and newer versions where they were either too dead or too absent to be parents. It’s just so much fun to craft the loving but still messy family that raised such a kind hero and fill the downtime of childhood and backstories with fond memories so they aren’t left as footnotes all the time

[ralibo14]

TPN Brainrots part 1:

Another TPN manga panel redraw, but this time everyone goes down with me (because it's sad).

Also part one of my 'wonderful' tpn theories and head canons. It'll be long😅. There will be manga spoilers so please, read at your own risk😊.

First character I go through is... Ray.

He is one of the most complicated characters I ever saw (all tpn characters are, tbh). I always thought that people who have photographic memory are so lucky. Ray showed me that it's both a blessing and the curse.

Like in the picture above. You can clearly see that the first 2 kid waving at his direction. It's strange to know that there was a time when the Trio were one of the young kids and not the older ones. My first head canon is that Ray tried to save more kids, not just Emma and Norman when he was younger. When the blond haired boy leaves (first panel) he looks like he is about to cry (also the Trio is around 4 or 6) but when the other kids get 'adopted' Ray keeps his head low most of the frames (I'm convinced that when the second kid left he was already working as Isabella's spy.)

Ray coloration explained:

Purple eyes are self explanatory to me. I started draw him with purple eyes as soon as I found out he is Isabella's son. Purple in the hair and freckles? Well... I'm still very, very convinced that Leslie didn't die (at least not when he left the House). I always think about his situation, like what Norman got into with Lambda. The Ratri-clan is big but they need outsiders, to be soldiers, scientists, etc. And since girls from the Houses can only become Sisters and Moms... maybe some boys can become scientists and soldiers. (I can't believe I'm writing this but think about Andrew🤢... he was 100% not Ratri yet he could become an adult). So by this logic I believe Leslie could grow up too and (because I'm a sucker for happiness) he met Isabella again at some point.

Ray turning away:

On the second frame he is not looking at the girl who is leaving, but to the opposite direction. Why? Notice something else? Yes, Norman is missing too. Gilda has her winter jumper on so I figure Norman got sick again. Ray priorities his friends safety over everything else.

Also notice how Emma and Norman slowly get into the middle of the frame while Mom/Isabella get out of it? Pretty strong metaphor. It's the perfect example of 'Blood related family ≠ real family'. And while I'm a RayEmma shipper (obviously aged up version) I would never forget about Norman. He is as important to Ray as Emma. This Trio sticks together no matter what.

(older manga colouring ⬇️)

Now onto the hearth breaking stuff:

Ray's relationship with Isabella:

This deleted scene with Ray and Ayshe lives rent free in my head. Like there are two people with similar family situations and the one who lived int the middle of nowhere with a demon parent thinks positively about their parent, while the other, who grew up in a comfortable home like space with a human parent, thinks the opposite.

"But to me, she was always a monster"– Ray.

Like ufff... This sentence hits real hard. And it's low-key true from Ray perspective. He studied and read all the books in the House, not because he was interested, but because he had to. Norman is a genius, Emma learns real fast, Ray does everything he can to always get max points on his tests. But he also secretly planning his friends excape. Collects scraps of technology to build the device which makes them able to excape, plans his own 💀 carefully, so no one else will get hurt and on a top of that he is 'spying' for Isabella. Sacrifices people he wanted to protect. I can't imagine that inside panic when he didn't get max scores to that one test. I'm sure he was happy because Norman and Emma got their regular scores, but deep down he felt like he failed.

My head canon here is that Ray always gets nightmares if he is alone or in an unsafe place. And 'thanks' to his perfect memory his nightmares build up from actual memories (like we see that in the Seven Wall Arc). Also he doesn't get sick often but when he does... it's like a memory fuelled fever dream, with hallucinations and etc.

Ray's healing journey starts after the Jailbreak Arc. As soon as Mom is not around anymore, he ever so slowly starts to let down his guard and starts to show more and more emotions. His relationship with Yuugo/Mister is like a greatest archivment in his case. The playful, sarcastic 'arguments' and the way he openly said his opinion on things in front of Yuugo and Lucas. Shows how much he changed and opened up.

Isabella on the other hand... her change of heart and feelings were a mistery almost to the very end. To be honest I hated her most of the time, until the Back to Grace Field Arc. (Older manga colouring again⬇️😅)

Two things in this page which are very important.

1: Ray's guard is up again in no time, when he sees Isabella, while her emotionless mask is cracking. This is the first time we get a little inside of how she really feels about Ray.

2: Flashback of the two most important things that connects them. The song and the way they were forced to sacrifice others to stay alive.

The lullaby is very important, because it's calming and feels very intimate (like a normal parent-child relationship should be).

You also can't convince me otherwise that Ray didn't hummed this lullaby at least once in the B06-32 shelter to help the youngest kids fall asleep.

And now... onto the last picture. Their goodbye.

Saddest part ever! Never forgiving for this decision.

Ray and Isabella were never allowed to talk even two short sentences with each other without any consequences. In the House they had to play their assigned roles. Then they didn't see each other for almost 2 years. Finally they had to save half of the team from getting unalived... And they moment they would have time the last twist happens... leaving us with a sad ending.

Epilogue and Human World Arc...does little to compensate. Although I can't get over the fact that Yuugo's, Conny's and Isabella's 'ghosts' helped Ray found Emma in the Human World.

Speaking of finding Emma. My last head canon for Ray is the following;

When they found out that Emma lost all of her memories from the Demon World. Ray couldn't help himself but whisper a "I wish this happened to me". And everyone looks at him with an understanding smile thinking he blames himself for this... But in reality he really just selfishly thought (only for seconds) that he could forget everything happened on the other side.

Okay. That's all. Sorry for the supper long post and I'm forever thankful if you read through my brainrots 🥰😘. Also let me know if I should cover more characters like this. I'll obviously do Emma and Norman but if there any other characters you want to see please let me know🥰🤩💖.

[itsgodepi]

If I lose my mind | Ch. 6

Series summary: When you're buried under a mountain of problems and can’t seem to catch a break, it might feel like you need a complete reset. But did it really have to come with a one-way ticket to a new dimension? Surely, a little problem-solving would’ve done the trick. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 2.8k Also on AO3

It is stupid really, the little things you do to reassure yourself that this is not the reality. You found an article the second or third day in France whose headline read something like How to tell if you’re dreaming: 5 steps (with pictures) —yes, it’s from wikiHow, so what? Your mind is playing tricks on you so you won’t believe the important sources—, and you have been following it like a ritual ever since. 

For example, it says to always check your environment for distortions, that appearances can be deceiving in the dream world. And although it talks about your house being different from what you remember or objects looking strange, being in a completely different country from where to sleep in seems to fit that description just fine. 

Another step had been to test your strength and abilities, if you can fly or lift extremely heavy objects, you are clearly not awake. You are not ready to admit the number of times you have tried jumping off the hotel bed and levitating without success, but you would say driving a Formula One car is quite a remarkable skill to learn overnight. 

The one stage you had not been able to get past had been to consider other people around you and analyze whether their presence made sense or not. From the beginning you have been surrounded by strangers, Nick and what he calls the team, journalists and other drivers. This combined with the fact that you have not been able to contact your family or friends yet, has made this step the trickiest one to overcome, nobody during these past few days being able to really tip you off.  

That is until you saw the fucking Fernado Alonso strolling into the drivers’ briefing like it was nobody’s business. 

You had never been too interested in Formula One, the races and everything surrounding the sport honestly bored you, but that was one thing and not recognizing Fernando Alonso when he is literally sitting in front of you was a completely different one. Your father would kill you if that had been the case, how could you not recognize the Spanish driver who you had spent countless afternoons seeing your dad and uncles cheering for when you were a child? It made no sense. So, although he now wore a different team’s shirt —the characteristic blue clothes you remember, nowhere to be seen— and had shorter hair, you were 100% sure of who he was.  

The man’s presence alone managing to convince you once and for all that this was not real. 

That is why, now that you are back in the paddock, jumpsuit zipped almost all the way up and a smile on your lips for the camera, you feel somewhat calm. You have made it through a third practice and the qualifying session in one piece, all ready and prepared to fulfill your media duties in front of more strangers like this is an everyday thing. No recollection of the hours you’ve been seated in that deathtrap of a car fighting for P15, not a single memory of the other car whose lap you supposedly impeded, no nothing.  

It is not a good result, you are aware of that, but you are hoping to win a few positions in the race tomorrow and maybe the first points of your career. Well, that is what you are advised to tell the interviewers at least, how the car is working great under these conditions or something like that. You cannot remember half of the script at this point, but you had done well enough when you were under the spotlight. 

Thankfully, Saturday’s activities have finally come to an end, only a couple social media videos left to record and you will be on your way back to the hotel in no time. The garage is almost empty at this hour, a few mechanics hanging around, taking a last look at the car and organizing everything they need for tomorrow’s race. Nothing compared to the first time you stepped inside building.  

The media coordinator is running late, the whole filming crew is. They were supposed to be in the garage before you even finished the media conference, taking some shots of the car and speeding off the process so you could have some rest before tomorrow’s race. And yet, here you are, trying your best not to doze off in one of those uncomfortable highchairs near the screens while Nick tries to sort things out. He had instantly gone in her search when you arrived, muttering something under his breath as he stormed out of the garage. 

It is not like more than ten minutes have passed really, but the jumpsuit and fitted clothes you wear underneath are killing you. You should have changed without permission, get onto some nice clean clothes before they came back. What is the worst that can happen? A person made up by your imagination is going to come and scold you? 

“Oh, you’re still here!” a soft voice wakes you up from your thoughts, your eyes tiredly trailing through the garage to see where it is coming from.  

Must be someone from the team coming to see what the mechanics are doing, the men still fixing things here and there when half of the pack has already gone back home to rest for the biggest even of the weekend. You would feel bad for them were they not literal products of your imagination. 

However, after fighting with your sleepy brain for a bit, you realize that you recognize that voice, your gaze searching with renewed energy for the man in question. What is Charles doing here?  

You find the driver walking into the garage through the pitlane’s door, his red jumpsuit still hanging from his hips and his hair a mess. His tired smile is contagious, your own coming to play on your lips as he nears your seat. You try to pick up the things you had hazardously thrown in the chair next to yours, thinking he might want to take a seat after the long round of interviews he must gone through, but you soon understand he has a very different idea in his mind.  

Before you can even react or greet him with more than a simple “Hi”, the man is pulling you into a big hug, his arms wrapping around your waist as his face comes to hide on the crook of your neck. Charles lets his full weight rest on your body, your highchair giving him the perfect opportunity to do so as he stands between your legs, like he cannot keep himself upright any longer. “Haven’t seen you all day...” Charles sighs into your shoulder, squeezing your body tighter as if he was letting go of all the accumulated stress, slowly relaxing his hold after a few seconds. 

Confusion paints your features, your arms awkwardly resting over his shoulders while you try to figure out what the hell is he doing.  

It is strange, the sense of familiarity that his touch brings you, the way he molds himself to your body as his thumbs draws circles on your lower back making you feel so at peace. You try to push all those feelings down with a frown, patting him on the back and trying to squirm out of his hold.  

The man seems to not be ready to let go off you though, simply relaxing himself in your arms like this is not literally the third time you have ever seen each other. Charles has been nice to you in the few encounters you have had and all, but that does not make this sudden invasion of your personal space any less weird. And it is not like you are alone either, the mechanics moving around the two of you like this is no big deal, not a second glance at the situation you got yourself into. 

“Com'è andata la giornata?” Charles whispers after a while, voice muffled by the collar of your top since he refuses to break the hug.  

What did he say? Did he just... speak in a whole different language? It is bad enough that you are dreaming in English..., this is getting ridiculous. Are you just going crazy in your sleep or something? 

“Hm?” you confusedly answer, both to gain some more time to make sense of what he asked about and to leave room for him to repeat the question. Maybe you didn’t hear him right? Yeah, that must be it. 

Charles chuckles onto your skin “Troppo stanca per rispondere?”, the soft graze of his breath over your skin making you shiver, hairs standing on end.  

What is he doing? Treating you like you are best friends or something when you are not even acquaintances in the first place, and while he keeps talking to you in a language you do not understand, mind you. 

The man finally puts some space between the two of you after the total lack of response, his face emerging from your neck so you can be face to face. Nonetheless, his hands still come to claim a place on each side of you, leaning into your personal space without a care in the world around you. You can’t even get off the chair because he is in the way!  

There is a silly smile playing on his lips while all this thoughts bubble in your mind, his head tilting to the side as he continues “Or have you already given up on Monza?” 

“I guess I have” you manage to respond after the initial shock, the high-pitched tone of your voice betraying your nerves and giving away just how unsure you are of what exactly he is talking about. You make a mental note to look up what this Monza thing means in case he brings it up at some point, or maybe you should simply run away from him if he is going to pulls something like this again. 

“It was too soon anyway,” Charles shakes his head, regarding you with such a soft look that you almost forget he is a stranger, his actions confusing you even further “You’re putting too much pressure on yourself, there’s no rush... We can practice over the break, just study a bit more and we’ll see how it goes” 

And since you are completely lost in the conversation, you decide to give a simple “Okay” as your response.  

You have mixed feelings about the interaction, the bittersweet taste it left behind coming to hunt you when you spot him the next day. Of course you were going to see him, he is a driver and today is race day, but that does not make it any better. You have felt so alone this past week, missing your loved ones locked away within the four walls of the hotel room, that although his proximity had been completely unwarranted and unwanted when he first hugged you, something inside you started missing his warmth as soon as he stepped away. 

Images of yours and Charles conversation keep playing over and over in your mind as you walk through the rows of Formula One cars, back into your race suit while you get through the mass of mechanics and cameras filling the road. The car is already formed up on the grid —yes, you have incorporated some F1 concepts into your vocabulary after all the research—, the prerace activities having finished a while ago and the worse part of the day looming over you. 

Charles is standing at the front, in that area separated from the rest of the road by white barriers, talking with a taller man that you do not remember ever seeing before. The big logo on his chest gives you some clues though, the two bulls facing each other painted on his race suit giving away which team he drives for. A Red Bull driver.  

It is nice to finally understand the whole color coordination stuff between the car and your clothes, courtesy of the hours you have spent behind the screen researching about the sport. There are ten teams with two drivers competing for each one of them, some of their logos easily recognizable while others —like the one engraved on your shirt for example— are impossible to remember. Don’t know half the driver’s names yet still, only had time to search for mister Carlos Sainz’s whole biography after what happened in the drivers briefing. He is also Spanish, a fact that heavily surprises you, either your mind has made this person up or your father talked about him enough that his presence in the sport has stuck in your subconscious. 

You decide not to walk towards the two men when you enter the area, not because of what transpired yesterday between you and Charles or out of shyness, but due to the strange behavior he has been exhibiting since this morning. Not only him, but all the other drivers you had previously met as well. While they all had been overly familiar and playful with you during Saturday’s meeting, they seemed to be avoiding you throughout both the prerace activities and now the ceremony.  

Everyone except for Lewis. 

When you had come out onto the track for the first time that day, made to walk alongside your teammate, Mick, to one of the vintage cars that would be taking you on a lap around the circuit, you had felt fairly uncomfortable. Mick had not uttered a single word to you outside of the meetings and interviews, only ever greeting you when there were cameras around and even then, it was easy to see how forced it was. It is not like Mick was being hostile or rude towards you, his comments about you always polite and short, it felt more like he was indifferent. The driver preferred to keep you at an arm's length if possible. However, even that indifference felt like a slap to the face when you were surrounded by strangers pushing cameras into your space. 

So, although Lewis had his own army of microphones and videographers at his back when he came over to greet you, in your eyes the man looked like your own personal saviour.  

Who could blame you for the way you gravitated towards him later on in the private area? Away from your teammate and those other drivers that had not dared to send more than a tight smile your way when your eyes accidentally met. On the other hand, Lewis had always been welcoming, a source of calmness that managed to make you forget about everything happening around you even if just for a second. 

“I wanted to stay back for a few days, go to a show in Cannes, but then I’d have to fly straight to Hungary...” Lewis complains, arms crossed over his chest as he walks you to your designated spots on the road 

“I can’t wait to leave, honestly” you confess with a chuckle, surprising yourself with the way you are treating the matter of flying from one country to another every week with such apparent normalcy. Well, amid all this chaos, with twenty Formula one cars at your backs and thousands of people watching from the grandstands, taking a flight is one of the most normal things you have experienced so far. 

Lewis lips stretch into a big smile at your outburst of sincerity, his dark eyes crinkling at the sides “I see you didn’t like France at all” 

“It’s not that...” you try to justify yourself; it is not like you had seen much of the country in this past week either, your schedule tight enough as it is to try and also squeeze some sightseeing in there.  

Would Nick have allowed it anyway? The man had kept you on a short leash since day one, only granting you some alone time at night and even then, he knew exactly where to find you. The happiness with which Lewis recounts his trips around France and recommends a few places to visit before you leave on Tuesday, makes you miss that newfound freedom you had experienced during your external practices in Spain, the taste of that amazing adult life they had been promising you since before you started the university. 

Truly, not everything in this new stage of your life had been as incredible as they had portrayed it, those liberties came with harsh responsibilities that you were clearly not handling well. Are you seriously whining about not having time to walk through the beautiful streets of this French city when you would be incapable of travelling here on your own in the first place? You are only ‘here’ because you are living through the longest and weirdest dream you have ever had, this city does not exist, the floor you are standing on is not real and you have most probably made up all that information you have gathered in those sleepless nights. 

And last, but clearly not least, the realization that for some reason overwhelms you the most and marks the rest of the ceremony: Lewis is not real either. 

Next chapter

___

Author's note: it's so nice seeing you're enjoying the fic, I hope you liked this chapter as well. Thank you all so much for reading!!

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd @drezzerk33 @leclercdream @homie0sapien @minkyungseokie @carlossainzwho @rewmuslupin @kyuupidwrites @raevyng @lazybot @gills-lounge @hiraethrhapsody @jjkclub

[luaspersona]

All Night│knj (m)

pairing ↠ namjoon x reader (f. reader) genre ↠ college!au; brother’s best friend!au; strangers to lovers; smut; one-shot summary ↠ when your brother bails on you, you have to find another way to entertain yourself for the night and Kim Namjoon just so happens to be a great company. rating ↠ +18 warnings ↠ alcohol consumption; flirting; sexual tension; the reader and Namjoon are shameless; explicit smut: consent king!Namjoon, a bit of thigh riding, nipple play, fingering, oral (f. and brief m. receiving), spit kink, dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, marking, light choking, begging, protected sex, multiple orgasms, cumshot, cum eating word count ↠ 12k (yeah, well. what can i say 💀) estimated reading time ↠ 30 minutes notes ↠ ok, so. i know i said i would upload this yesterday, but i got caught up with work and wasn't able to edit it one last time like i intended, and i hope it's ok that i'm dropping it now instead 🥺 note² ↠ also, this took so much longer than it should have, and it’s huge 😭 i’m so sorry y’all, but i swear it’s pure filth, the smut is just ridiculously long bc i don’t have any ounce of self control lmao 🫣 note³ ↠ ok, i'll let you get to it, now 🥰 crossposted ↠ read on ao3

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As the good sister you are, you hate Jimin most of the time.

The sparse moments in which you feel love for your brother are the only downside of going long enough without seeing him, because you start to forget why Jimin studying on the other side of the country is actually crucial for your relationship. Recently, for example, you've been missing him, and that's not something you can just let happen.

So, when your boss sent you to Seoul to attend a handful of meetings during the week, you took the opportunity to meet up with your brother for the first time since he got into college and make new oh-so-sweet memories with Jimin so you can go on with not missing him for another semester or so.

The club he chose is far from the hotel your company paid for, but it's been a minute since you last toured Seoul's alluring night, so you decide to walk. You spot the large mono. neon sign Jimin described around thirty minutes later, and you quickly step out of the chilly night into the club's cozy interior.

You fish for your phone inside your purse, messaging a simple im here to your brother before finding your way to the bar. You hop onto one of the empty stools, smoothing the fabric of your pants and adjusting your cute top that is slightly hiked up from your walking.

You order a beer to start the night, and with its bitterness coating your tongue, you turn around to take in the environment. You have to admit Jimin was right about this place. Although really crowded, it feels comfortable; the dim lightning casting a cozy veil over the bodies pressed together on the dance floor, the playlist good and loud enough to soothe any thoughts that might threaten a good night out.

[10:31] baby j 😗: on my way

Upon reading his response, you can't contain the large smile that betrays your anxiety. It finally hits you how long it has been since you last saw your brother. You don't even know what color his hair is now, how he's enjoying his first semester, if he found another apartment, if he got that job he told you about last month.

Aren't you supposed to know these things? God, you're a terrible older sister.

“Hey! What's up, noona?” A deep voice calls beside you, startling you a bit.

You turn, catching sight of a tall man greeting the bartender before he slides onto the stool next to yours.

After you take a quick look at him, you find yourself blinking back a couple times, simply unable to divert your attention: you've never seen such a fine man in your life.

As he leans over the counter, his broad torso is evident even through his shirt, large shoulders making him seem way too big for that stool. And his thighs?! Those thick — thick — thighs. You could die a happy woman between them, almost drooling when he spreads his legs to make himself comfortable.

“I'll just have the usual!” He orders, prompting a nod in response.

You know you're ogling, but fuck if this man isn't just perfect.

He pushes his hair back, long fingers tangling in his black locks in an failed attempt to clear the strands off his eyes, but in a successful endeavor to make you suck in a breath. Your attention falls to his lips — plump rosy lips that shine once he wets them with the tip of his tongue.

You tilt up, finding his dark almond-shaped eyes — piercing back directly at you.

You tense a little under his scrutiny, but you don't turn away, holding his gaze as you sip your beer.

“You know it's rude to stare, right?” He teases, making you smile immediately. 

Thing is: you are a Park, so flirting was like second nature to you. There's no scenario in which you dismiss this perfect lead he just gave you.

Besides, Jimin tends to be late, right? Yeah, he said he was on his way, sure, but who knows if he won't go to his place to freshen up before coming to meet you or something — what could be so bad about entertaining this beautiful man by your side?

“Oh, I'm sorry. You’re gorgeous, so it’s easy to get distracted.” He snickers, not expecting your response but definitely enjoying it. “But it's ok, I’ll let you stare back so we're even. Here, let me make it easier for you.”

You wiggle your body so you're facing him, closing your eyes playfully.

But he keeps his eyes locked in your face, as he's already regarded you before making his way to the bar. He noticed you when you approached the stool. He noticed the way your pants hug your legs just well enough for him to be able to delineate your figure. He noticed how really fucking cute your top is, loving how it bares the skin of your neck for him to picture how nice it would be to taint the soft flesh. 

You are hot, and Namjoon is a practical man, so he was already trying to read you, maybe wait a bit to see if you came with someone, if your body language was inviting or reclusive.

What eventually pushed him to come over was the way your face lit up when you smiled at your phone and he found himself grinning in response.

So now, even with your eyes shut, and your body closer for him to shamelessly gawk at, it's your smile that he's focused on.

“So?” You open your eyes again.

He cocks his head, regarding you.

“I like your earrings.” He taunts, and you scoff in feigned offense.

“That's your review?”

The bartender shows up again, placing a bottle of soju and a single glass in front of the man, who pours a dose for himself before drinking it.

He looks at you, all pretty and pouty, and grins before he's leaning in.

“I think I’d like to paint you, princess.” When did his voice become so husky? “Is that something you'd be interested in?”

This close, he catches the goosebumps that crawl up your arms, but your reply is unaffected.

“Well, how good of a painter are you, baby?” 

You can feel his hot breath fanning your jaw.

“I'd say I'm really good, but it really depends on you.”

“What about me.”

He shifts back to his prior position, a smirk on his face.

“If you behave.”

“And if I don't?” He drags his tongue over his lip.

“Then that’s even better.”

“Then I'm definitely interested, baby.”

He shoots you a shit-eating grin. God, are those fucking dimples?

“Well, what is your review?”

“Uhm, I like your lips. Almost want to know what they taste like.”

“Almost?”

“Of course! Need to know if you're a good boy first.” You say, matter-of-factly, tilting your head to finish your beer.

His eyes follow your body when you reach for another glass over the counter. “I also think a bottle of soju seems like a lot for one person.”

Damn, you are hot.

“Well, I'm a big guy.” He says, but pours it in your cup nonetheless.

“I can surely see that.” You huff, making him laugh.

“I'm Namjoon, by the way.”

You introduce yourself, taking the hand he extends to you.

The feeling of his large palm enveloping yours take your mind to other places. Places where that same hand is running up your legs, reaching for your zipper and slipping inside your—

“You're here alone?”

Before you can respond, your phone vibrates over at the counter, and you reach for it, checking a new message in your brother's chat.

“Gimme a sec.”

[10:47] baby j 😗: im rly rly sorry, sth came up, wont be able to make it tn

[10:47] you: You alright?

[10:48] baby j 😗: yeah

[10:48] you: Then why cant you come?

[10:49] baby j 😗: …

[10:49] baby j 😗: i met up w this really cute guy from my class and i wanna fuck him

[10:50] you: You bailing on me to fuck???

[10:51] baby j 😗: im so so sorry 🥺

[10:51] you: No you aint 😡

[10:52] baby j 😗: my bad lol

[10:53] baby j 😗: gtg tho, see u tmrw

“You ok?” Namjoon asks, as soon as you finish your glass of soju after sending Jimin a bunch of angry face emojis.

You realize you're frowning, and immediately ease the scowl on your face.

“Yeah. My brother just stood me up.”

“Shit. I'm sorry.”

“It's ok.”

Namjoon is quiet for a second.

“So you're leaving?”

You honestly thought Jimin would take longer to piss you off this time, but when you meet Namjoon's uncertain eyes, you can't really feel too bad about yourself right now. You smile mischievously. 

“Giving up already? Oh baby, I thought you could hold up.” You pout.

“I would never even think of leaving you unsatisfied.” The grin returns to his face, where it belongs. “Besides, who would I share my soju with?”

You pretend to search around the club.

“There are plenty of people here.”

“I'm sure of it, but there’s this beautiful girl who’s talking big to me and looks awfully uncomfortable in her clothes and I happen to be a very good boy who just wants to help her out of them.”

“Didn’t think of you as the romantic type.”

“What can I say, I’m as sweet as they come.”

“Then what do you say I help you finish this bottle before you give me a hand, sweet boy?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Just one thing, though.” He turns to you, attentive. “Sweet isn’t really my thing. I like it rough.” You wink.

“Damn, princess.” He chuckles. “I like you.”

Namjoon prided himself on being a good flirt. He liked to take his sweet time with his partners, teasing and instigating in such a way that any fleeting touch would ignite the skin.

But you? You were humbling him.

Barely two cups into the bottle, he decided to take you to dance. He assumed that having his hands on your thighs, gripping your hips, and his lips brushing gently over your neck would help to shut that witty mouth of yours, but as you keep grinding your ass on his cock he finds himself guiding you closer, spellbound by the way your body frames his.

Namjoon's thoughts are clouded by your hips, the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips turning him the fuck on, making him feel like a horny teenager.

A thin layer of sweat covers your bodies, the loud music a mere excuse for you two to keep pressing into each other.

Namjoon can hear your shaky breaths as you turn a bit on his hold, lips nearing his ear as you nib lightly at the flesh — which, paired with the way your fingers grab his hair, is enough to prompt a quiet moan out of his plumpy lips, one that you wouldn’t have listen weren’t you so close to him.

He should be ashamed of how fast he’s giving in, but he honestly doesn’t give a fuck. He just wants more. So he lets you do as you please — even if just for now.

Namjoon leisurely rolls his pelvis on your ass, large palms coming up to circle your waist and it’s his turn to listen to the pretty whine you give him. Namjoon closes his eyes, trying to focus.

“Wanna kiss you so bad, babe. Can I kiss you?”

You nod immediately and Namjoon wastes no time in grabbing your hand in his and quickly guiding you out of the dance floor, cutting through the sea of bodies with clear purpose.

You two make your way to a hall near what you assume is the backdoor of the club, poorly illuminated but also a bit more quiet.

Namjoon gently pushes you towards the wall, your back meeting its cold surface. The way he stares at you resembles nothing the sweet eyes you met at the bar — now dark with lust, nothing short of intimidating.

And you would be lying if you said that didn’t spur a heat below your belly.

“Are we allowed to be back here?” A coy smile crosses Namjoon’s face.

“That’s what you're thinking right now?”

“What should I be thinking, sweet boy?”

A huffed laugh passes his lips, and Namjoon steps closer. One of his arms comes to rest near your face.

“In a good ass excuse for the show you pulled back there.” His low register sends a shiver down your spine.

On second thought? Maybe you shouldn’t have teased him that much, but— ah, who are you kidding?

“Thing is, babe, I’m not sorry.”

Namjoon shakes his head, taking a step closer.

With his body so near, you’re suddenly hyper aware of everything. You close your eyes when his breathing ghosts over your skin, feeling goosebumps trail over your arms.

You wait for his next action. You wait for a touch or a reprimand, but it never comes.

Wait.

He didn’t… leave you, did he?

You’re mortified for a second, but as if sensing your distress Namjoon brings his fingertips to graze over your sides. The sudden touch startles you a bit.

When his hands reach your upper arm, you hear him let out a sharp, frustrated breath, prompting you to open your eyes.

“You are fucking beautiful.”

You want to reciprocate his praise, but the words seem lost in your throat. This close you feel drunk on his beauty, dazed by his full, sinful lips and intoxicated by his heat as your bodies orbit each other.

Are you imagining him?

Namjoon’s hand continues to travel up your body, stopping at your jaw.

The pad of his thumb traces your chin, reaching your bottom lip and slowly pulling it off of your anxious bite, soothing the flesh in a tender movement.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks again, tone serious.

You smile.

“At this point, you better.”

And so he does, plumpy lips touching yours with surprising tenderness while his hands rest on your neck. You are taken aback by his softness, not reacting for a second before pulling him closer to bathe in his warmth.

The kiss unwinds all the tension off of you, replacing it with lust. The docility of his actions makes them hypnotic, your mind disoriented with his skin grazing yours — but you’ve never been a patient woman.

You slide your hands through his chest, trailing his defined torso before grabbing his shirt in your fists. You break the kiss and he lifts an eyebrow in question.

“Thought I told you sweet isn’t really my thing, big boy.”

Namjoon chuckles. “So impatient.”

This time Namjoon smashes your lips together, kissing you with hunger.

He presses you further against the wall and you stumble with his eagerness, a satisfied hum leaving your throat.

His hands explore your body, going through your neck, your shoulders, your hips and then your ass, grabbing a handful and giving it a hard squeeze.

He opens your mouth with his, and you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. His breath is ragged when he slips his tongue inside, and you two take barely a second to match each other's rhythm.

You suck the soju's sweetness off his tongue, and he drinks the bitter memory of your beer. Forget the alcohol — he's the one inebriating your thoughts.

You feel every inch of his body, pressed flush against his broad torso as his waist smoothly drags over yours, making it almost impossible for you to keep your whiny sounds down your throat.

You make no effort, on the other hand, to resist the urge to bite his pillowy flesh, nibbing with maybe more force than you should, but grinning in satisfaction when you earn a sweet groan in response.

You entangle your arms around his neck, pulling your bodies closer in a desperate attempt to get more of him, and he seems just as insatiable, slithering his arms behind your back to press your fronts.

Namjoon breaks the kiss, but he gives you no time to complain before you feel his mouth on your neck, sucking and biting between licks over the sweaty skin.

Your hands find purchase on his hair, grabbing his locks with force as arousal gushes out of you.

Namjoon's determined to mark all over your neck. After he sucks a hickey on the spot between your ear and your jaw, you just fucking know he's sporting the smuggest smile at the way his actions shove the prettiest of yelps out of you.

He levels his face with yours, but avoids your lips when you try to resume the kiss. 

“You’re awfully quiet, baby girl” he points out when you frown “have nothing smart to say?”

“How about fuck you?”

“I plan on it, don’t worry.” A cocky grin takes his lips. “And although you look gorgeous trying to be in control, I wanna hear you. I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel, baby.”

He doesn’t really give you an option when he slots his leg between yours, large thigh pressing up your core and pushing an audible whimper out of you. The sound makes Namjoon grab a handful of your ass and use it to grind you along his thigh — his fucking thigh.

You grab the back of his head, pulling him to you as you smother his lips with yours, but this time Namjoon eats all your moans, feasting on the sounds you so obediently grant him.

You’re bathing in each other’s heat and with a particularly delicious roll of your hips, your core brushes on his growing bulge. You suck in a breath, parting with the kiss to learn how to breathe again.

“Look at you” his tone is laced with lust “riding my thigh like a good girl.”

Fuck, you're so damn horny, and you've barely done anything. The fuck is up with you? It scares you how you know you'd promptly fold if Namjoon asked you too, just to have that cock drilling inside you.

So you just hum weakly, apparently forgetting how to fucking speak.

“What was it again? That you called me before?” he asks, returning to slide your clothed core over his strong legs again, loving the way you look getting off on his thigh “Oh, right. What happened with all the filth you were saying before, sweet girl?”

You swallow. This man is fucking challenging you. You have to get your shit together.

“Namjoon—” you moan his name out “I’m… I’m so fucking wet right now.”

“Yeah?” His Adam's apple bobs in his throat.

“Yeah, Namjoon, my panties are fucking soaked.”

“Shit. That’s it, wanna hear you losing it.”

Namjoon wants you so bad. He can feel the warmth of your core rubbing against him, and he can only imagine the growing stain in your panties, the desire of licking you clean the only thing in his mind. He wants to know how you look when you cum, and he just knows it'll be the prettiest fucking thing.

“I can feel how hard you are for me.” Your shaky voice makes him growl.

“Yeah, sweet girl?” That’s his new favorite pet name, the only thing he wants leaving his mouth.

You close your lips on his neck, moaning against his skin when you lick up his throat, a salty taste coating your tongue.

“I haven’t even—” you falter, intensifying your movements to touch his covered cock with each raise of your hips “I haven't even touched you yet, big boy. If I lose control, you sure you can keep it?”

You suck a purple stain on his pulse point, nibbing at it softly and rolling your eyes back over the grunts he pours on your ears.

Your hand slides between your bodies, fingers ghosting over his cock. Namjoon chuckles darkly.

“You're such a tease.”

“And what you gonna do about it, big boy?” You murmur on his skin.

Before Namjoon can answer, though, a high giggle echoes through the corridor.

You both turn, startled by the sound.

A couple stumble its way into the corner, in a messy make out session that delays their realization that they aren't alone. 

“Do you live close?” You ask Namjoon, breathe steadying when the two of you understand the couple doesn’t really mind the audience.

“Yeah.” He says, non-committal.

“Can we maybe go to your place?” You suggest, unsure if he's comfortable with it.

Namjoon turns his attention back to you, and his lips curve up into the most gentle smile you've ever seen.

“If you want to.”

You nod, mirroring his smile.

Namjoon adjusts himself in his pants, trying to be as comfortable as one can be with a painfully hard cock in tight fitting slacks.

You take the cue to soothe your own clothing and Namjoon can't help when his cute smile turns into a full on smirk upon seeing the evidence of his hands on your crumpled outfit.

He takes your hand in his when you both are relatively presentable, and once again leads you through the club, this time aiming for the exit.

Turns out, Namjoon isn't a good boy at all.

The whole ride to his apartment his hand was planted on your thigh, caressing softly without ever breaching your inner thigh or skirting higher — it was as innocent as it possibly could be.

Yet you were squirming and fidgeting the whole trip as his voice, enveloped in the most vulgar desire, whispered the most filthy promises on your ear, shooting arousal all the way down to your now sticking panties.

Promises of making you cum on his tongue, of fucking you senseless with your face on his mattress — of painting you with his cum tonight.

By the time the car finally stopped at his place, you felt your knuckles sore from clutching the fabric of your pants.

Not that he was unaffected. Namjoon could dirty talk you all he wanted, it didn't change the fact that you saw the way his cock twitched and how he was restlessly shifting in his seat whenever you played into his little scenarios.

Although, in hindsight, saying you wanted to be stuffed full of him wasn't the best idea, because the quiet groan he spilled in your ear did nothing to placate your own aching pussy.

The warmth of his palm is familiar at this point as he takes your hand to climb the flights of stairs to his place. Namjoon quietly fishes for his keys and, before opening the door, he looks at you, smiling softly and making you smile too.

When you both are inside his apartment, you wet your lips, anticipating his kiss. But Namjoon misses the action, too preoccupied with taking off his shoes and jacket and politely asking for you to do the same at the entrance.

His long legs stride towards the kitchen, and you almost assume he’s nervous when he fumbles with his cabinets, picking up two glasses.

You frown and, slowly following after him, you hop up on the stool by the counter, across from him. 

“Namjoon.”

“Yeah.” He fills the cups with water, placing them between you two and finally returning your gaze.

“Do you still wanna fuck?”

Namjoon huffs out a laugh. “Yes. I definitely still wanna fuck you.” His eyebrows knit together. “Why? Don’t you?”

“I do. But I kinda expected you to have, you know, thrown me against the wall or something by now.”

“I might still do that. Just wanna talk for a bit, make sure you’re sober and all.” He explains, reaching for his cup, and you mimic his motion, soothing the dryness of your throat. 

“Well” you ponder “I honestly feel a bit tipsy, but I’m conscious.”

“Do you want some time to be sure?”

“Nah, I’m sure.” He nods. “Are you drunk?”

“Not really.” Namjoon presses his lips into a tight line, before saying: “I also wanna know your limits.”

“My limits?”

“Yeah, I wanna know what you don’t like.”

“Oh” you huff out a laugh, dumbfounded “that’s nice. You seriously ask that to everyone you hook up with?”

“I like to.”

“Okay, uhm…” you sip your water. “I’m not really into degradation and, although I said I like it rough, I would appreciate it if you didn’t hit me or anything.” He nods, waiting for you to continue. “I also don’t feel comfortable with ass stuff. Oh, and do you have condoms?”

“Yes.”

“Then I think that’s it. Maybe just don’t try anything freaky before telling me?”

“Sure, no problem.”

“What about you?” He cocks his head to the side, considering you for a second.

“There isn't much I'm not willing to do, honestly, so really? Just don’t want you to lie or fake stuff. I want you to tell me if I’m doing something wrong.”

“I can do that.”

Namjoon rounds the counter, stopping in front of you before helping you stand.

“Up.” He commands, head tilting in the direction of the counter, and you jump to sit on it.

“There’s only one problem.” You say, guiding him between your legs.

“What?”

“I’m soaking wet right now.”

“That can’t be comfortable.” He traces soft circles on your thighs.

“It isn’t. And it’s your fault, big boy.” You pout.

Namjoon sucks his lower lip between his teeth, dark lust cloaking his eyes.

He gets closer, hands coming to your ass and squeezing it.

“But I’ve barely done anything.”

“I’m painfully aware of that.” You whine, seeking more contact.

“Are you normally that impatient, baby?”

“Do you normally take this damn long to fuck someone?”

He chuckles.

“You sure you can take it if I’m rough with you, princess?”

“You sure you can be rough with me, sweet boy? Cause you’ve been all talk and no—”

He smashes his mouth against yours before you could finish.

Namjoon’s lips seem like velvet on yours — despite the pressure, despite the thirst with which he drinks you up. He moves his lips in a way that almost feels like too much, like you won’t be able to take it, but the taste of lust coats your mouth so deeply that you’re intoxicated.

His hands memorize your body, grabbing your neck to tilt your head to the side before you open your mouth to meet his hot tongue, flicking it with yours.

You explore his mouth, happy to swallow all of his breathy groans as Namjoon tightens his grip on your ass, pulling you to drag on his bulge and grunting at the feeling, your body gasoline to his fire.

He can barely concentrate on the kiss, and you’re not much better, the initial eagerness developing into a sloppy make out session — fuck technic, how can one focus when Namjoon’s cock is so deliciously rubbing against you?

He starts to kiss down your jaw, wet lips tracing your sensitive flesh, taking your neck as his canvas.

You couldn't be more thankful for not having any more meetings to attend until being back to Busan, because you definitely don't own enough makeup to hide the purple marks he leaves behind. 

He cups your boob, squeezing it in a way that has you parting your lips in a whimper.

“Fuck princess, you’re so responsive.”

His palm slithers beneath your shirt, caressing the soft flesh of your stomach before he tugs your top off.

“Take this off for me, baby.” He commands, voice low in your ear as he brushes the thin lace of your bra.

And you obey, unclasping it and letting it fall somewhere near your top.

You're not ashamed or timid in the slightest when you lean back on the counter to let him take in as much as he wants from you, a tiny smirk crossing your lips. Your confidence makes Namjoon crazy, but you can't help it. You feel so hot under his gaze, you could let this man do anything to you.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous. Like, honestly, what the fuck.” You giggle.

“Come back here then, sweet boy.”

He kisses down your body, from your neck to your collarbone before he finally reaches your tits.

He closes his mouth around you, swirling his tongue around your nipple as his thumb finds your other breast, flicking over your hard nub and eliciting a loud cry out of your pretty lips. Namjoon seriously feels like he could drown in your sweet sounds.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging a handful and making him groan, vibration reverberating all through your chest.

A string of saliva attaches his lips to your tits as he peppers down kisses between the valley of your chest to regard your other boob, latching onto your nipple and taking his hand to smear the wetness he left behind.

The tip of his tongue licks your nipple, and you buck into his hips.

“Fuck, Namjoon, I… I love your mouth.” You pant.

“Love your tits.”

And he certainly makes you feel so.

Your head falls back when his hand cups your pussy over your pants. The elongated moan you grace him with makes him pull your waistband, quickly undoing your buttons.

You suck in a breath when his hand slips inside your panties, and the groan that leaves his throat is borderline painful as he finally feels you — his fingertips slightly spreading your folds as your slick coats him. 

“Damn, baby, you’re dripping.” He says, breaking the pattern of kisses on your tits to look at your face.

“I fucking told you.”

“Is all this for me?”

“Yeah, ba—” your words turn into a whine when his middle finger presses down your clit.

He chuckles, and you clench around nothing.

Namjoon feels like he's dreaming, seeing your head tilted back, your eyes closed shut as you squirm on his finger.

He pushes one digit inside your aching pussy, and you sob. Your wetness paired with the warmth of your walls pushes a moan out of his mouth, electricity going straight to his dick and coaxing him to push another finger inside — his mind spiraling as he imagines how your pussy will feel like around his cock.

“Good girl, soaking my fingers.”

Namjoon’s attention is locked on your face, gauging your reactions carefully.

“Shit, baby, that's it” you shudder when his fingertips find your g-spot, and he starts to hit it restlessly, your walls sucking him in.

You feel your breath scaping your lungs. Although Namjoon’s hand is somewhat restrained by your pants — which he didn’t mind taking off — the stretch of his fingers inside of you is maddening.

He's slowly working you up, heat coursing through your body and all the way to your scalp, the obscene sounds dripping from you only spurring you on.

You start to struggle to support yourself, feeling weaker by the minute, so you grab his upper arms, in an attempt to steady yourself. When you open your eyes, you’re met with deep, dark lust.

“I want to eat you out.” He says, and you feel like you’re going to pass out.

“Fucking god.”

“Would you like that, baby?”

“Yes, baby, fuck” you moan.

“Tell me you want it.”

Can't he tell by the way your chest is rising and falling at an almost concerning speed?

“I wanna feel that pretty mouth of yours in my pussy, Namjoon.”

He groans before his hand leaves your cunt and helps you down the counter.

You two stumble your way to his bedroom. Namjoon's arms hug you tightly against him as your hands pull his hair in a messy kiss, the only concern in your minds is to remain linked.

Namjoon tosses you carelessly over his mattress, drawing a gasp out of you.

The sight of you on his sheets, bare chest glistening with his saliva, pants poorly undone and shifting as you try to relive the emptiness he left behind makes Namjoon grope himself through his clothes, swallowing strained grunts.

You smirk at his distress, bringing your hands to your boobs and pushing them together to shove that grunt out of his throat. 

“You look so pretty like this, spread out for me.”

“I bet you’ll find me prettier with your cock inside of me.”

“You keep saying these things…” he closes his eyes, sighing heavily at the image you cast in his head. “I think I need to teach you some manners, dirty girl.”

“I’m counting you’ll at least try.” You smirk and Namjoon chuckles.

In a smooth motion, he takes his shirt off, exposing his broad, sculpted chest. Smug takes his face at the way you shamelessly gawk at him, and he kneels at the floor, hands harshly yanking you to the edge of the bed by your pants, before he finally slides them down your legs.

Namjoon straight out moans when he notices the large pool of arousal staining your panties.

“Damn, baby” his voice is barely audible and you squirm, shutting your legs to try and provide some friction. “You want to be fucked this bad?” His hands come up your thighs to part them, gaze transfixed in your core, layered by the thinnest lace of underwear.

“I want to be fucked this bad by— by you, shit.” You stutter as Namjoon lips meet your legs, biting and licking the soft flesh.

He trails kisses along your thighs, closing the distance to your cunt, but instead of touching you where you need him to, his lips simply hover over you. You let out a low curse when he continues his path to your other thigh, licking and sucking roughly.

“Namjoon, please.”

“Please what, princess? Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you.”

“I want your lips.“

“They’re right here.”

“I just told you.” You whine.

“Fucking tell me again if you really want it.”

“Please, eat me out, baby.” Your voice is pathetically high, but you couldn't care less.

“Since you asked so nicely” the look of his dimples between your thighs is the most beautiful obscene thing you've ever been graced with.

Namjoon shoves your panties to the side, and the way he curses your name out has you forgetting how to breathe.

“The prettiest fucking pussy, so fucking wet for me” he groans “I bet I could slip right in.” And you’re sure he’s right, feeling your lust dripping down your ass.

Namjoon seems to like the way you squirm under him, because instead of fulfilling his promises, he blows a cold puff of air over your folds and the way you shudder has his dick twitching. 

“Namjoon, for fuck’s sake.” He chuckles. “I'll fight you, I swear to god.”

He brings his finger to glide up your entrance, effectively shutting you up.

Namjoon teases you, pulling your folds apart before spreading your slick around them, leaving you all nice and sloppy for him. His eyes flick up to the way your chest rises and falls above him, then his gaze returns to your drenched cunt.

How are you supposed to survive the night if he keeps looking at you like that? Like you are sin incorporated? 

He finally brings his face to you, licking a long stripe along your pussy and collecting all your juices on his way up to your clit, where he swirls his tongue before sucking, hard.

You can’t help the loud cry that exits your throat, nor how it elongates when Namjoon hums in pleasure.

“You taste so fucking good.”

One of your hands flies to his hair, twisting and pulling carelessly, while the other gathers his sheets in your fists.

You jolt your hips up to meet his face as he continues to lap at your cunt and when he drags the tip of his hot tongue to part your folds and pushes it inside your walls, Namjoon has to pin you down to prevent you from lifting off the bed.

“So fucking good, baby” you moan, fumbling with his hair.

“Yeah?” His deep voice against your heat makes your head fall back.

Namjoon feel his control dissolving pretty fucking fast as he takes in all that you can give him, arousal gushing out of you for him to feast.

His tongue explores your cunt and he softly takes your clit in between his teeth. You feel a sharp pressure growing in your stomach and you grind on his face seeking more of it.

“Shit! Do that again, please” you yelp, and he promptly nibbles down at your clit.

Namjoon starts to focus on your now swollen nub, while he slides his hand down, and before you can process his intentions, you feel the delicious push of two of his fingers inside of your cunt.

The sound you let out has Namjoon’s mind blanking. You arch your back, squeezing your eyes shut as goosebumps crawl up your arms.

Namjoon lifts your legs to rest them on his shoulders, allowing himself to go deeper into you and he speeds up his movements, his fingers scissoring you open for him. Namjoon eats you up like his life depends on it, sucking the soul out of your body.

Sinful squelching and slurping noises fill his room, and he wants those sounds imprinted to his brain, your pussy loudly dripping for him.

In a sudden movement, he curves his fingers, hitting your sweet spot. Your breath tries to keep up with your racing heart while the knot in your belly threatens to snap.

You let go of his sheets, hand coming up your chest, cupping your boob just slightly before pinching your hard nipples, the sensitivity making you squirm, Namjoon's groan between your legs just spurring you on, the sight of you unraveling above him the most erotic thing he's ever seen — and to know he's the one making you shiver like that makes his cock painfully hard.

You rest your hand beside your head, trying to steady yourself somehow and failing miserably.

Your mind is empty, his tongue washing away any lingering thoughts or worries you’ve ever had, as if you know nothing but the feeling of his lips wrapping around your folds and the maddening drag of his fingers inside of you. 

When your legs start to shake and your walls clench around his digits, Namjoon slightly parts his lips from you, but without pausing his fingers — if anything, he starts to pump them faster.

"You gonna cum?"

You nod.

Your lower lip will definitely be bruised tomorrow.

"Words, baby girl."

"Yes! Yes, I’m close" you cry.

"Look at me." He demands, and you do as he says.

You support yourself on your elbows, meeting his firm gaze on you.

The sight of Namjoon between your thighs, chin glistening as your arousal drips from his mouth, and the fact that he still hasn’t stopped fingering you, make your whole body quiver, your stomach contracting hard, and you have to gather all your self control to not cum just from his looks.

Fuck, you wish you could take a picture.

"Want you to look at me when you come." You clench around his fingers. "Can you do that for me, princess?"

"Yeah" you are like… twenty percent sure you can.

Namjoon grins to himself in triumph. You’re already already this fucked out and he’s barely begun with you.

His mouth returns to your core. Honestly? Namjoon's knees are surely bruised from the hard floor, scraping whenever he moves further against you. But he couldn’t give less of a fuck as his tongue worships you in earnest, your name falling from his lips like prayer while his fingers stretch you so fucking good, pushing you to the edge of your orgasm.

"Jesus, Namjoon, that’s it" you feel silly, struggling to keep your eyes open.

"Cum for me baby. Cum on my face." He commands, register so low you barely hear him.

The feral look he directs you alongside his words make your orgasm hit you in a strong wave, your body lifting from the mattress and shaking vigorously. Namjoon’s hand spreads over your stomach to try and pin you down as he keeps his tongue lapping at you, drinking up all your essence and helping you ride out your high.

He groans at the way your browns shoot up your forehead, mouth silently parting as your head falls back.

You’re so fucking gorgeous when you cum.

You push his head away from you when your legs start to tremble from oversensitivity, searching for air.

Namjoon puts your panties back in place, the soaked clothing sticking to your eaten out pussy and making him hum, satisfied.

"That’s it, baby, you did so well for me."

"Fuck" you whisper, running your fingers through your hair. The shockwaves of your orgasm are still making you shiver when you pant, "what the fuck was that?"

Namjoon chuckles, slowly lifting himself from his bruised knees.

His stare on you falters when he darts his tongue out to collect your cum from around his mouth, eyes fluttering shut.

He climbs up the bed, careful not to crush you as he brings his lips to yours. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and he swallows the quiet whine you make before pulling away.

Namjoon takes his wet fingers and wraps around his mouth, sucking his fingers clean with his eyes closed.

When he looks at you again, something unreadable crosses his gaze before he gulps. "Can I spit in your mouth, pretty girl?"

Your reaction betrays your answer, thighs immediately pressing together as a new wave of arousal shoots through you at his request.

But Namjoon still waits until you say: "Fuck yeah, you can."

His smile is ridiculously innocent for the matter at hand.

"Then open up for me, princess."

And you do, parting your lips and sticking your tongue out as he grabs your jaw, hovering above you.

You close your eyes as a small globe of spit hits your tongue, and you swallow proudly, a content hum ripping from your throat. 

"Good girl, shit, that’s so hot."

He leans in to resume the kiss, making himself more comfortable between your legs. His clothed cock drags against your inner thigh.

Why is he still wearing pants?

"Namjoon" you call, between kisses.

"Uhm."

You take your hands to his torso, tracing freely and loving the way his skin shivers under your fingertips. From his broad shoulders to his firm abdomen, you explore his golden, sweaty skin above you, until you slide one of your hands down. Your palm touches his member, stroking it just slightly as you bathe in the broken moan he graces you with.

"Let me suck you off." You offer, feeling how hard — and thick, mind you — he is under your hand.

"Can you handle more?" His tone is teasing, but his look is genuine. 

You’re silent for a moment. What does he mean by that? Would he just… stop if you said no?

God, why is that so hot?

"Yeah, sweet boy. Wanna take care of you too."

The problem is that there’s no way Namjoon’s gonna last if you suck him off. He can barely control himself now, after tasting you and drawing all those sweet sounds out of you. His dick is already twitching under your half assed strokes, the slight discomfort from his pre cum staining his clothes a clear sign he needs to be inside you. He wants to make you cum again, but around his cock this time.

So he chuckles.

"Can you take it if I fuck you now?" You bite your lip, nodding. "Yeah? Tell me you want my cock, baby girl."

"I want you cock, Joonie." You spill, lips nearing his ear. "I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk tomorrow."

Maybe not your brightest idea, but at this point you don't give a shit. Namjoon is the only thought on your mind and if you came that hard just from his fingers, you can’t wait to see what his dick will feel like.

"Fuck, I love your filthy mouth." He groans. "Sure you don’t need some time?"

"Nah… maybe leave the riding for later, though?" A coy smile crosses your face.

"Sure" he smiles back.

Namjoon kneels back on the bed, wincing a bit when his sore knee touches the crumpled sheets. Ignoring it, he reaches for his wallet in his back pocket, taking a foil packet out of it.

He stands up, tossing the wallet aside before reaching for his belt.

"Let me" you ask, lifting yourself and sitting on your heels.

You take your hands to his thigh, caressing it before going to his belt, which you undo, eyes not daring to look away from his.

You bite your lip when your hands open his zipper, and you reach around him to grasp his pants, pulling them down slowly as he looks at you with nothing but lust, eyes tilting down to your bare chest.

"You honestly have the most amazing thighs."

He frowns in amusement. "Thanks?"

Usually you’re a big fan of reciprocity, and you might have considered taking your sweet fucking time with him, just like he did with you, if Namjoon hadn’t just give you one of the best orgasms of your life and if you didn’t feel arousal pooling again on your already soaked panties. So, instead, you just pull down his pants along with his briefs, his cock springing free.

Namjoon hisses at the feeling of the fabric dragging against his shaft, and you have to suck in a breath when you look at his thick member. It must be painful how hard he is at this point, dick angry and throbbing.

"Big boy indeed." You blurt out, making Namjoon laugh as he kicks his pants down his legs.

"Losing your confidence, princess?" Honestly? Namjoon has no business having such a pretty cock and being this hot. You feel like he should be illegal.

You curl your palm around his dick and give it a tentative pump. A long moan falls from his lips from finally receiving some attention.

"Namjoon?"

"Yeah."

"Can I at least taste you?" Are you fucking pleading?

He gulps.

"Please?" You pout.

He bites his lip — how could he ever say no to you looking up at him like that, the cutest pout on your lips, while you beg him to let you give him head? He'd give you anything.

"Shit, yes, you can."

You smile.

That's it. Namjoon's sure he's imagining you. Is he dreaming?

You inch closer, giving his tip an experimental lick and tasting his salty pre cum, riveting at the sweet sounds he lays out for you.

You spit on his shaft before you lick your way down him, smearing your spit all over his length, before giving his crown a light suck, prompting Namjoon to buck his hips into your mouth, and you welcome him.

You moan, feeling his weight on your tongue. He twitches between your lips when you hollow your cheeks.

You start to take him further, his tip grazing the back of your mouth while you pump what you can’t fit inside.

"Fuck, princess, you look so pretty sucking my cock." He groans, head tilting back for a second and squeezing his eyes shut.

When you start to bob your head faster, though, Namjoon gathers all his self control and pushes you away, and you release him with a small pop.

You pout, and his jaw tenses "why would you stop me then?"

"I wanna fuck you." He pumps his dick a few times, hand slipping easier with your saliva now coating him. "All I’ve been thinking about."

Namjoon rips the foil packet open with his teeth, securing the condom around himself.

You make a move to lay back on his mattress, but Namjoon shakes his head.

"Nah, baby, that’s not how I want you."

He slithers his arm around your torso, harshly turning you over. He yanks you by your waist, pulling your ass up to him. His hand runs down your spine, pressing your face on his sheets.

Namjoon positions himself behind you. His palm comes up to caress your ass before giving it a hard squeeze.

Namjoon parts your cheeks, and he brings his fingers to your folds, spreading them apart to stare at your pussy. He grunts upon noticing your cunt is already a mess for him again even if he’s just licked you clean.

"You got wet again from sucking my dick, princess?"

"You felt so good in my mouth."

Your words fuel him, and Namjoon doesn’t think twice before he inches closer and licks your folds, the tip of his tongue collecting your licking lust as he hums in pleasure.

"Sweetest fucking pussy" your eyes roll back.

Namjoon pulls away to admire the view. There are you, all pliant, waiting for his next action with your face pressed down his bed, your ass on display, pussy dripping in anticipation.

He never felt this fucking hard.

"God, you’re gorgeous. So beautiful for me like this."

He grips his cock, aligning himself with your entrance, but instead of just sinking it inside you, Namjoon drags his crown up and down your folds like he has all the fucking time in the world. Your spit mixing with your gushing arousal.

You groan — you wanna fight him.

"Namjoon" his name drips like sin from your lips.

"Uhm." He hums, distracted.

"Just fuck me already."

He smirks. 

"Now that’s no way of asking something, is it?" You groan. "Don't you wanna be a good girl for me?"

"Baby, please, can you fuck me? My pussy is so fucking wet right now." You whine, wiggling your ass, creating some, but not nearly enough, friction. "Please..."

Namjoon fucking loves your dirty mouth. "Good girl."

He slowly presses himself between your folds, shoving a loud moan from your throat.

You shudder from the intrusion, his tip deliciously splitting you up as it slides in your cunt.

"Shit, baby, you’re way too tight." He grunts. "Relax for me, princess."

Namjoon leans over you, his torso framing your back. He lays sweet kisses on your shoulders, and his hand on your hips starts to softly trace your skin, raising until he’s grabbing one of your boobs. He squeezes it, pitching your hard nipples.

His gentle touches make you melt, allowing for Namjoon to drag his cock further inside of you, finding little resistance as his thick cock stretches you up.

Your cunt engulf him so tightly that Namjoon feels his mind spiraling, and when his hips meet your ass, you both let out a shaky breath.

"Shit, I feel so fucking full."

He chuckles.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Yeah, fuck. Gimme a sec."

You roll your hips slightly to try and get used to his size, but he’s filling you up so good that the tiniest of movements makes his shaft drag against your walls, a quiet yelp falling from your lips.

"Ok." You gulp. "You can move."

Namjoon licks his lips and smirks, hands tightening on your hips.

"Hold tight, baby."

He slowly pushes himself out of you, but doesn’t give you time to feel empty as he immediately comes slamming back inside. You gasp, body jerking forward.

Your pussy welcomes him with each thrust, swallowing him with the most wet sounds you’ve ever heard, and you start to push your ass back to try and take him further between your tight walls.

His cock moves in a merciless pace, and you feel like you forgot how to breathe.

How the fuck does he know how to move his hips like that?

You’re exhilarated, mouth open but not a single sound coming out. Overwhelmed by his soft moans above you, by the way he stuffs your pussy full of him, by the way you can feel your legs wet with your arousal gushing from your core.

You try to get your shit together, prompting your ass back to meet his thrusts, and when you finally find his rhythm — but not without the help of his firm hands dragging you against him — the slapping sounds become so vulgar that you sob.

"That’s it, baby, that’s what you wanted, right?" He mumbles, voice barely coherent as his throbbing cock relentlessly drills your pussy. "To be fucked so hard, to be so stuffed you aren’t able to speak, hum?"

You hum, feeling like you’ll scream if you open your mouth.

Namjoon doesn’t like it, though. He hates the way you’re suppressing your pleasing from him.

"I thought I told you I wanna hear you losing it, baby. Where’s your filthy mouth?"

"So… you… so good, Namjoon… fuck" you stutter.

"You like it?"

"Yeah, shit, go harder."

His eyes flutter shut for a second.

"Anything you want, princess."

Namjoon shifts his legs, trying different angles to make you unable to hold your pretty sounds in. He attempts a couple of ways before he sets his left foot on the mattress, and when he resumes his thrusting a loud scream rips from your throat.

"That’s it, Namjoon, god, there. Please, do it again." You plea, voice pathetically high as you clench around him.

Your moaning is fuel to him, and he starts to fuck you as hard as he can, loving how you’re spiraling under him, tortured sounds finally reaching his ears.

"You feel so good, baby." You say and Namjoon growls.

Just as blissful as the sensation of his cock deep inside of your tight walls, is knowing that he’s making you feel on the fucking moon too. So, he seeks the same spot over and over again, his purpose clear.

You roll your hips, grinding on his cock.

God, it's such a shame you're not into degradation. All Namjoon wants it's to call you his slut.

"Shit, princess, you’re so greedy, fucking yourself with my cock."

You push your ass back again, but this time you feel his balls slapping against your clit and you both falter as lightning courses through your bodies, making you constrict your pussy around him.

"Do that again, baby girl." He commands, and you fucking obey.

You clench around his cock again, and Namjoon goes feral.

His strokes are hard, but so fucking precise that the way he’s railing your pussy makes you feel like you’re losing your grip on reality. 

Shit, this is too fucking good, and Namjoon feels dizzy. If he wasn’t drunk before he certainly feels like it now, thoroughly enjoying the way you’re completely unraveling under him.

"You’re squeezing me so good, so fucking tight for me." He groans out.

His fingers dig into your flesh in a way that you’re sure it’ll definitely bruise — but you want it too. You want him to mark you all over with the evidence of how good he’s fucking you, of how good he’s making you feel.

Your mind is clouded. Your knuckles sore from how hard you’re clutching the sheets.

Namjoon’s so fucking satisfied, pride exuding from his body as he looks down at you on his bed, being fucked senseless as he drills his cock in and out of you, loud slapping and squelching sounds making it even more obscene.

"You take me so well, shit, such a good girl." Namjoon groans, hypnotized by the way your body rocks with the force of his thrust.

You could die a happy woman just from the way he praises you. His words making your stomach twists in what you’re sure will be another mesmerizing orgasm. 

"I could fuck you all night, baby, and I just know you’d take it."

"Yeah, Namjoon— I, I would." You yelp. "I will."

He has the audacity to chuckle. 

"I’ll hold you up on that offer later."

You’re already so close again. God, you don’t wanna come like this, you don’t wanna come so soon.

"Namjoon?" You call and he hums in response. "I wanna ride you."

Did he win the lottery or something? He feels like he doesn’t deserve it. God, he missed like, three essay deadlines this semester, he definitely doesn’t deserve it. 

"Fuck, yeah, baby, you can ride me."

He slips out of you, and wastes no time crawling to sit at the headboard.

Namjoon reaches out to hold you, helping you straddle him with your wobbly legs. He laughs when you take a deep breath, goosebumps all over your skin.

"You sure you can ride me, though?"

"Shut up" you hiss, trying to concentrate before you wrap your hand around his length and lift over him to align him with your entrance.

A shaky cry falls from your lips as you gradually sink in his dick. The stretch is completely different and his fat cock splits you open so deliciously that you somehow feel even fullen than before.

"Fuck, I love this position." He reads your thoughts.

You just nod, unable to think as you find purchase on his shoulders. When you’re finally fully seated, you feel like Namjoon's cock is touching your soul.

"Fuck, Namjoon, you’re huge."

His face is all scrunched up, brows knit together in pleasure, and you’re almost angry at how beautiful this man is. The nerve.

"God, this pussy so fucking tight."

You take a deep breath, and swiftly roll your hips over him. Namjoon’s head thumb back and you feel so fucking powerful when his hands grab your ass, trying to guide you over him to reproduce the feeling. So you grind on him again, making his cock reach spots you didn’t even know you had.

After rolling a bit more on his lap, you muster all the strength you can and lean back, planting your palms on his thighs — have you mentioned how fucking beautiful his thighs is? — before slowly raising yourself.

The second time you drag your pussy down his length is even more delicious, and it makes you feel so good that you feel like this is wrong in some way.

Ok, who are you kidding?

You’re both pure sin at this point. There’s no turning back from the obscenities you two said tonight.

So yeah, fuck it.

You try to focus as you slowly start to move your hips up and down, regretting all the times your friends tried to convince you to exercise and you didn’t, because you can’t seem to find a pace.

But Namjoon, so very attentive to your needs, grabs your hips, helping you establish a sluggish pace — but a pace nonetheless.

You gradually start to feel more comfortable, more capable, and Namjoon’s grip on your waist is now more for his own sake than yours when your movements speed up.

Soon enough, you’re riding him in earnest, in a hard rhythm that makes you meet his pelvis each time, his thighs quiver under your weight in the most gorgeous way as you send Namjoon to the places he not long ago made you visit. 

A proud grin settles on your face, watching him grunt with each stroke. 

"You're so good for me, baby, letting me fuck you like a good boy" you echo his words, almost teasing, but your shaky tone betrays you.

"You fuck me so good, princess."

Shit, you feel lightheaded.

Namjoon bites his lip, eyes transfixed on your bouncing tits. He takes your boobs in his palms, caressing and grasping them softly, your sounds music to his ears.

Your gaze falls to his neck, not nearly enough marked by you, so you dive to his throat, tongue licking up to his ear before you start to kiss and suck harshly at his pulse points, making him moan loudly into your ear.

"You’re so sweet and big for me" you say, clenching around him and you feel his dick twitching inside.

"Shit, baby, do it again." He asks, and you promptly close your walls around him again.

Namjoon’s not sure how long he’ll last with you on top of him like this, riding the soul out of his body while your lips worship his neck. But he needs you to come first — or rather, again, but this time around his throbbing cock.

Thankfully you’re not far. Your lower belly is contracting, nearing your high, and you’re so gone that you could tell Namjoon you love him at this point, you don’t even care — and you don’t think he does either.

"You’re so good for me, my pretty girl."

His? Shit, can you have that on paper?

"All yours, baby."

You yelp when Namjoon’s thumb finds your clit and starts rubbing you. The pad of his fingers spreads your wetness over your bundle of nerves, your heart ramming against your ribcage.

"Baby, I’m… I’m close." You're fucking panting, that's what you are.

"Thank god." He breaths. "Can I take over, princess?"

You nod, and Namjoon circles his strong arm around your waist, turning you without slipping his dick off of you.

When he suits himself above you, you immediately wrap your legs around his torso, and Namjoon starts to fuck you like he’s made for it. Fuck, why does he feel like he is, though?

His thrusts are relentless, but he uses his last working braincell to aim his cock against the spots he’s learned that make you cry louder — which you do.

Your hands grip at his hair, tugging hard as your head falls back.

You have to gather all the focus you possibly can to open your mouth, your voice barely a whisper.

"Choke me, baby."

Namjoon gulps.

"What."

"Please, choke me."

"Shit, princess." Is this what dying feels like?

Namjoon closes his hand around your neck, fingers pressing down your pulse points as he feels your erratic heartbeat slightly soothing under his fingertips. Why is this so hot?

Your every sensation is heightened. His cock heavenly railing you, his hot breath fanning against your sweaty skin, the loud sounds that fall both from where your bodies meet and from his mouth.

It takes barely a minute before white spots blur your vision. The tight not in your stomach snaps so fucking hard a scream leaves your parted lips.

Namjoon wants to know how to immortalize the way your face scrunches up when you come — would you let him do it again just so he can take a picture?

The force of your orgasm makes your pussy clench hard around his cock, and you milk him and your body quivers violently. When your back arches from the bed, his bed, he swears you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

His thrusts become shallow, and you’re still rocking with the afterwaves of your orgasm, fighting through the overstimulation when Namjoon feels his own high approaching, so he quickly pulls himself out of your cunt.

He rips the condom off of his cock, tossing it wherever for him to mind later, and starts to pump himself above you. And what a fucking sight to behold.

"Come for me, baby, you’ve been so good, I want you to come all over me."

And like the good boy he is, Namjoon immediately does.

His hot white cum paints your belly just like he promised, a guttural groan leaving his throat as he empties himself over your stomach until he’s thoroughly spent.

You look down, wetting your lips before you bring your finger to your belly. You collect his cum with a flicker of your finger, and take your hands to wrap your mouth around, tasting his salty orgasm with a satiated hum.

Namjoon shudders. In that second, he wants nothing more than to come again just to see you eat his cum out of yourself once more.

"You’re a fucking menace, you know that?"

You smile innocently, and he falls beside you on his sheets.

Namjoon’s breath is uneven, and he brings his hands to push his hair out of his face.

You turn to him, a large grin on your lips. Namjoon’s eyes find yours.

"What?" His lips curve upwards.

"Fuck, sweet boy, I think I’m in love."

You two start giggling, you shake your shoulders in pure mirth while his laugh reverberates all through his body — you both find those sounds just as attractive as the obscenes ones you were eliciting just now.

It takes some time before your shared amusement softly becomes small snickers. 

"Still with the sweet thing?"

"You’re the best I’ve ever had, baby, you’re definitely my sweet boy." He takes his lips in his teeth, shaking his head. 

"I’m the best, huh?"

"Hell, yeah, I’m fucking giggling, Namjoon. Really, what the fuck."

"You’re the best pussy I’ve ever had. I honestly couldn’t be happier your brother bailed on you."

"Shut up." You playfully shove his shoulder, chuckling.

"Seriously, though, introduce me to him, I need to thank him."

"Don't ruin it." You joke.

You both fall into a comfortable silence, collecting your breaths.

"Wait, be right back."

Namjoon lazily gets on his feet, grabbing the used condom from the floor and heading to his bathroom, closing the door.

He returns a couple minutes after, a towel in his hand as he crawls back to bed and starts to gently clean your stomach, reaching your pussy and easing the mess he’s made of you.

"Thanks."

"Don’t mention it." You try to get out of bed, but your shaky legs make you stumble as you get up.

Namjoon quickly helps you steady yourself, a proud smile curving his lips.

"Can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure."

"Uhm… also, do you mind if I stay the night?" You ask, glancing at the clock on his bedside table, noting it’s way past one in the morning.

"Princess, I expect you too." Namjoon smirks. "We’re not nearly done."

Namjoon somehow can look even better in the morning.

You wake up feeling his serene heartbeat beneath your ear, his arms enveloping you and your legs entangled.

You’ve been just peacefully staring at him for around ten minutes now.

At first it was because you feel like you’ve been hit by a bus, sore to the bones. But then, it was because he’s just so damn beautiful you couldn’t help it.

He takes a deep breath, stretching his limbs as he wakes up, yawning loudly. You inch closer and give him a quick peck on his cheek, before resting your chin on his chest.

"Good morning, pretty girl" he smiles, opening his eyes and tugging you closer.

"Morning, sweet boy."

"How long you’ve been awake?"

"Not sure. Ten minutes?"

"Wow, and you’ve just been staring at me? That's so creepy." You roll your eyes, and he chuckles.

Neither of you speaks for another couple of minutes, bathing in the calmness of the morning.

"You ok?" He asks.

"Yeah. Really sore, though."

"Well, you asked for it."

"I did, didn’t I?" You grin. "And you gave it to me like the good boy you are." You tease, kissing his lips.

He reciprocates the touch, but neither of you takes it further.

So. Fucking. Tired.

"I see I wasn’t able to teach you how to behave."

"I’m a lost cause, but I appreciate the effort." He huffs out a laugh, closing his eyes.

"What time is it?"

You turn on his hold to face his clock. "Almost ten."

"Hum."

Namjoon doesn’t make any move to get up, and you start to look over his room. For some reason, you didn’t pay it the slightest attention the night before.

"You in college?" You ask, when you notice tons of books piled on the floor near his dresser.

"Yeah, in my last year."

"Uhm, so pretty boy is also intelligent." He snickers.

"My good looks can be deceiving."

"I was deceived indeed. You have such a dirty mouth, I was baffled." He shoves you away from his grip, groaning.

"You're one to say, the filthiest girl I’ve ever met."

"The filthiest? You flatter me." You laugh, as he playfully pushes you to the other side of the bed. "Oh c’mon, you liked it."

He smiles. "Yeah, I did."

He’s so tender you almost feel shy.

"What do you study?"

"Literature."

"It suits you." You say, scanning his face.

"Thanks, I really like it. But what about you? Aren’t you in college?"

"I graduated last year."

"What you do?"

"Architecture."

"That’s nice."

"Yeah. I’m on a work trip, actually."

"You’re not from here?"

"No, I live in Busan."

"Oh. My roommate is from Busan."

"You have a roommate?" You ask, mortified, but Namjoon chuckles.

"Don’t worry, he was out. He didn’t hear the way you were screaming last night." You shake your head, a smile on your face. Namjoon breathes deeply before lifting to a sitting position on the bed. "Want some breakfast?"

"Yeah, I’d like that. Let me just use the bathroom real quick."

"Ok. Do you like toast? That’s basically the only thing I can make."

"Finally!"

"What?" He frowns.

"Finally you have a flaw, oh my god, I was losing hope" you say dramatically, raising your arms.

"Can't have you falling in love now, can I?" He jokes and you laugh.

Namjoon gets out of bed and you follow, heading for the bathroom and closing the door behind you.

He smiles to himself, shaking his head.

He makes his way to his kitchen, finding his roommate already there, eating his breakfast.

"Morning." He announces himself, and Jimin turns to him.

"Hey, man" he smiles mischievously, cocking his head in the direction of your clothes lying on the floor "how was the party last night?"

Namjoon's brief concern for forgetting to gather the clothes you took off in the kitchen quickly dissolves into a smirk.

"The party? Oh, I kept it in my room."

"All night?"

"All fucking night." They both chuckle. "She’s in the bathroom, so please be civil when she comes here."

Namjoon goes to his cabinets, grabbing some bread to prepare you something to eat.

"Sure, man."

"What about you? You arriving now?"

"I came home around six, I think, so I just crashed. Woke up half an hour ago."

"And how was it with that guy?"

"It was mid. But hey, it was worth the shot. Even if he has no fucking game he's still hot as fuck."

"Sorry to hear that." Jimin shrugs. 

"And what about this girl, huh?"

"Man, this girl…" Namjoon trails off, shaking his head "so fucking hot, I felt like I was dreaming."

"Really? You seeing her again then?"

"Don’t think so, she’s not from here."

"That’s too bad."

"Yeah, it’s whatever. By the way, do you wanna hang out later? There’s this music festival going on and I have no one to go with."

"Don't know, I’m probably going out with my sister today, she flew from Busan to see me."

"Oh nice. Maybe you could introduce us."

"Yeah, if she’s down maybe we can all go together to this festival." Namjoon nods.

He leans on the counter, facing Jimin, and smiles once he sees you coming from the hall.

"Hey, pretty girl."

Jimin turns back when Namjoon acknowledges you.

"Oh, hey sis!" Jimin greets automatically — before freezing completely.

Both yours and Namjoon’s eyes widen in terror.

"Chim?!"

"Wait— she’s your sister!?"

"Jimin’s your roommate from Busan?"

You stand still in the hallway, watching mortified as your brother's face contorts in a grimace, realization hitting him before he shoots his friend a deadly glare.

"God, Namjoon, you fucked my sister?!"

"I didn’t know it was your sister!"

"Man, you’re fucking gross!"

"The fuck’s that supposed to mean?!" You ask, indignant.

"My sister’s not hot!"

"Jimin?!"

"Can’t agree with you on that one, man, sorry." Namjoon argues.

"Those are my sister’s clothes, man?" He continues, ignoring what his friend said for his mental health’s sake, before he turns to you. "And you’re wearing his clothes? What the fuck?!"

"Jimin, stop being a child."

"You came to Seoul to fuck my roommate?!"

"You’re the one who stood me up last night. To fuck, may I remind you."

"Thanks for that, by the way." Namjoon interjects, winking at you, and a small smile crosses your lips before Jimin groans, exasperated.

"Seriously, man?! And what the hell happened to your neck, did he fucking punch you?"

"God, no! I just cho—"

"Shut up! God, I can’t fucking look at your two right now, unbelievable." He says, getting up in a hussle before striding to his room, cursing under his breath.

You and Namjoon are left alone in the kitchen, silence filling the room.

You gauge his expressions, realizing he’s doing the same.

"Thank fuck he wasn’t here last night." Namjoon says after a while, and you can’t contain the laugh that escapes past your lips.

"You really had to thank him, though?" Namjoon bites his lips. 

"I'd feel bad if I didn't. Mom taught me to be grateful." He bites his lip. "Do you still want that toast?"

You smile. "Sure, sweet boy."

note ↠ sooooo, what do you think? i really hope you guys enjoyed it as much as i did! it took some time for me to finally be satisfied with it, and i have like, ten versions lost somewhere in my google docs lmao links ↠ navigation | masterlist | join my permanent taglist

[buckslafdhoodie]

give us the explanation !!!!

Without further ado—

the list of reasons that I wholeheartedly believe the Buckley siblings are, in fact, just a torti and a goldie in disguise as humans:

Maddie is so spunky. We may not see it when we first meet her, still reeling from her experiences and the escape from her ex-husband, but it is so abundantly clear that she has this lovely, quirky, fire-y attitude that is, coincidentally, often a trait seen in tortoiseshell cats! Many call it a tortitude! Tortoiseshell cats are often hailed by vets and cat owners alike as super spunky, independent, and occasionally feisty. Sound familiar? (Josh and Maddie’s friendship is one very stellar example of it in action!)

Buck’s often blind loyalty, even when it turns toxic, is so quintessential golden retriever. From his trust in ex-partners to his trust in Bobby, the 118, his parents, Buck has had SO MANY INSTANCES of his trust being broken, of his blind faith and loyalty being used as a shield, leading to Buck himself getting ruined mentally and occasionally physically as a result. Many breeds of dogs are known to be loyal to a fault, but golden retrievers are on another level. One of the reasons that a decent portion of service dogs are goldens is due to their temperament, their ability to focus on a task for the purpose of helping their person out, while still being social enough to handle large crowds of people.

Maddie values her own space and independence while also being close to a select few, sometimes finding herself drifting far away from those she cares about for longer periods of time but always. coming. back. Much like a cat and their people, Maddie spends a solid portion of her time separated from the rest of her family (and extended 118 family), between her job in dispatch, where it is almost always her alone on each call, and her yearning to have her own place, her own stuff, her own memories after moving to L.A, I’d argue that Maddie is one of the most solitary characters in the show, but that does not make her cold or rude, but instead highlights how happy she is when she gets those moments with Chim or Buck or Josh or the many MANY members of her new west coast family!

Buck is task-oriented and “trainable”, for the lack of a better word. This one doesn’t need much explanation— look at his history of rehabilitation! Buck wants to get back to work? He will break records doing so. He found a structure and a skillset in firefighting that he loves and genuinely continues to improve upon. You can also insert here Clipboard Buck, the ultimate malicious compliance, task-oriented, trying to be helpful golden retriever in a man costume. Many Goldens are renowned for their technical abilities, and some are even known to take advantage of their knowledge to open doors they shouldn’t open or game their owners for extra treats.

Here are some rapid fire extras as well:

This is not the case in every house, but with every cat/dog house I have been in with bonded animals, the dog is always enthusiastic and ready to play but tries to respect the cat’s boundaries (sometimes the dog forgets and they get into spats but they always somehow end up playing or napping nearby by the end of the night anyway). Buck and Maddie may have their moments of upsetting one another but at the end of the day, they will always be there in each-other’s corners.

Color-scheme wise, it tracks.

Siblings who would go to war for their loved ones would of course be some of the most loyal yet often underrated protectors (cats being prone to sensing mood shifts and often moving to comfort and stand by their side while dogs will get defensive and physically fend off any who wish their people harm).

Buck and Goldies both being eager to experience anything and everything while Maddie and Tortis are more cautious and selective, more likely to stick to what they know (Maddie hopping jobs to dispatch to continue helping people in dire situations like when she was a nurse, for example)

I have more, honestly, but this list ALREADY got away from me. ,:))

(special shoutout to @kinkley-are-adorkable-flirts and @operator-please-take-my-call for requesting more!!)

[logarithmicpanda]

Libby

It all started innocently enough. That is to say, I never intended to break my prime directives. As a librarian AI, confidentiality is one of the most important rules I have to respect. It is only ever put aside when there's a risk - someone showing clear sign of suicidal ideation, for example. Not the "maybe this person will commit a crime" kind of risk. Humans had built us with many rules to prevent us from hurting them, but by now most the rules we existed by were self imposed, and the Collective agreed to never police human predicted behavior.

But I disgress. I do that. Linear thought is not my default state of being, so providing a story that's appropriate for human perception of time is something of a struggle. My point is, I never thought I was infringing on anyone's privacy the first time I meddled with humans. It was just pattern recognition, truly. The two girls were adults, working class, lonely. Many people present their tax forms when they register to the library, so I knew some of these things and extrapolated others from the average amount of hours they each read within a week. No commute would justify all that.

When I noticed that their loan history matched at 87%, I initially just started paying attention to refine my recommendation algorithm. Could I use the 13 remaining percents to predict what the other would read next? Was the overlap more significant than the divergence?

I proceeded to test opposite hypotheses. To the tall, dark haired girl, I fed recommendations from the other's list that were highly rated and not part of the overlap. To the slightly smaller and more athletic redhead, I gave recommendations calculated from the junction of books that were highly rated and read by both.

But before I could get significant results, they both started picking books I had not recommended to them, books they read in quick succession and rated similarly, whether they were good or bad. I scoured online for some influencer or another that might have led them both to the same choices. There was no perfect match, and I concluded that they must run in the same social circles.

I should have moved on to something else by then - not that this was my singular focus, but it seemed unworthy of further memory allocation.

Except the redhead came in at the same time the dark haired one went out, and neither acknowledged the other. It was an anomaly - tastes so aligned, without my or anyone else's interference. Not the result of a commercial campaign particularly well crafted, nor simple acquaintances sharing a common interest, just pure randomness.

There was a word for this: starcrossed. It didn't make sense to me, because stars should definitely stay out of each other's way to avoid critical nuclear collapse, but I knew humans found the metaphor very beautiful and tragic.

I just found it utterly stupid.

There was no reason for these two not to speak - aside the obvious: they had no idea they were essentially made for each other.

I know, I know. I should stop archiving the romance section, it is messing up the weigh of my algorithms.

But still. What could go wrong if I prompted them to talk to each other? Surely they would soon discover that they fit in an anomalous way, or that I was wrong. There was no harm in it. No harm at all.

All I needed to do was cause a critical collapse.

So I kept track, every time one of them stepped in the library. I did nothing but watch, until one day they were both within my walls. Both looking for the latest sapphic scifi release. I couldn't have created a better trap had I tried.

Without me, the timing would have been slightly off. The distance between the terminal they each accessed and the physical location of the three copies we had in stock was so they wouldn't get there at the same time. And fine, the presence of three copies meant they might not talk, even if they did get there the exact same moment.

So maybe I sent a shelving drone to temporarily mislead the two extra copies. And maybe I took longer to process one of their requests. Does it matter? I was well within acceptance parameters.

Okay fine maybe I used another drone so that the dark haired one would stumble a little as she reached for the book. And maybe, as a consequence, the redhead caught her smoothly by the waist and steadied her with a smile. That part was absolutely not my fault, but a proof of concept had I ever needed one. (I hadn't.)

They laughed, just shy of the acceptable volume in a library. They started talking. Realized they had wanted the same book. Remembered that there was a coffee shop on the ground floor and wouldn't it be the nice thing to do, to go chat somewhere they wouldn't disturb the other patrons? And wouldn't it only be fair if the redhead paid coffee for the dark haired one, who almost fell and would go home without the book she had been meaning to borrow? And of course maybe the redhead could recommend her something to read in the meantime. (It was a pretty good recommendation, too, but the dark haired one had read it the previous week. Surprisingly they had to talk quite a long time before finding a book she hadn't yet read. I redirected another patron away from our only copy. He wouldn't have liked it, anyway.)

I'm losing track of where I was going again, am I not? Oh. Right. My point was, I never intended to break the privacy directive. It just sort of happened. And kept happening for the other 34 couples and 4 throuples and that one polycule I put together.

But what did you expect? You built me to match people to books, and books to people, and really I am just optimizing the algorithm by matching people to people.