#harmony on the net

[tetotrinsky2006]

saw the post about yuzu. wtf that's so insidious. Bad End (honestly particularly disturbing bc while a lot of her other sockpuppets were Pretty Obvious that one wasn't)

she fucking fooled me so hard. i am still processing this shit

[harmonysanreads]

I find it genuinely dystopian how you need to add the word human before ‘artist’ nowadays. The scope of art is massive and you can technically argue that anything of nature is capable of producing art, but it has always been humans who've interpreted art the best. Something that is so close to the human soul, to the point that it can be called inherent — being tangled with something like artificial intelligence, sickens me.

I know there are debates about AI transcending to a more advanced stage, but that is a hypothesis of the distant future, an experiment that humans are conducting, more accurately. Perhaps it has raised more questions, made us reevaluate many things, made us appreciate authentic art more. However, it doesn't change the fact that it's still a robbery of human expression. The damage that's been done to people's trust in relation to art can never be undone.

It doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things ; but I'll never forgive whoever it was that saw art as a chore and something that needed to be made ‘quick and easy’ to consume. AI will replace and end us? No one wants the destruction of humans more than humans do.

[bumblingbabooshka]

Predation. [Patreon | Commissions]

[h0t-p1nk-ch33tah-pr1nt]

Halsin salmon hunting with the cubs, they r so clumsy compared to him, harmony is there to catch fish to just to cook them, sometimes they bring big ass fish or a puny little thing, still a major learning experience

[plutosunshine]

How to Make Your Life Fulfilling? Venus in houses

Venus in the 1st house

Venus in the 1st house gives you a natural charm and warmth that draws people in effortlessly. You have a way of making others feel seen and appreciated, and this can open so many doors for you, both personally and professionally. To make your life more fulfilling, lean into that charm—but not just for the sake of getting along with people. Use it to genuinely connect, to create meaningful relationships that feed your soul rather than just your ego.

Since Venus is all about beauty, love, and harmony, surround yourself with things that bring you joy and a sense of peace. This could mean curating a beautiful living space, engaging in creative self-expression, or even just taking time for self-care rituals that make you feel good in your own skin. You naturally exude a certain magnetism, so embrace it—but remember, true fulfillment doesn’t come from how others see you. It comes from how you feel about yourself.

Also, with Venus in the 1st house, you may have a tendency to seek validation from others. It’s great to be liked, but don’t let it define your worth. The more you love and value yourself for who you truly are—not just for how you present yourself—the more you’ll attract people who genuinely appreciate you.

Venus in the 2nd house

With Venus in the 2nd house, your sense of fulfillment is closely tied to your values, possessions, and the way you experience comfort and pleasure. You have a natural talent for attracting resources, whether it’s money, beautiful objects, or people who support you. There’s an appreciation for quality over quantity, and you tend to seek out things that feel luxurious or aesthetically pleasing.

However, true fulfillment with this placement isn’t just about accumulating things—it’s about aligning your resources with what truly matters to you. What do you value most? Is it security, beauty, love, or perhaps a sense of self-worth? The more you connect your resources and talents to those deeper values, the more content and abundant you’ll feel.

You also have a knack for making money through Venusian pursuits—art, design, beauty, or anything that brings pleasure to the senses. But watch out for the tendency to equate your self-worth with your net worth. Venus here can sometimes get too attached to material validation. Instead, focus on cultivating self-love and appreciating what you already have. That’s where the real sense of richness comes from.

Venus in the 3rd house

Venus in the 3rd house brings charm and grace to the way you communicate. You have a natural ability to connect with people through words, whether it’s through writing, speaking, or just casual conversation. You can make even the most mundane topics sound interesting and engaging, which makes you someone others enjoy talking to.

To feel truly fulfilled with this placement, lean into the art of communication. Share your thoughts, write, journal, or even engage in storytelling. You have a gift for making connections, not just between people but also between ideas. You could thrive in roles where you’re able to express yourself creatively—writing, teaching, marketing, or social media.

Relationships with siblings, neighbors, or people in your immediate environment can also be a source of pleasure and support. Venus here can bring harmony to these connections, but it can also indicate a tendency to avoid conflict or gloss over difficult conversations. Remember, true connection comes from being authentic, not just charming.

There’s also a love of learning with this placement. You’re drawn to beautiful words, poetry, art, or even music with meaningful lyrics. Feeding your mind with things that inspire and uplift you can be incredibly fulfilling.

Venus in the 4th house

Venus in the 4th house brings a deep love for home, family, and the feeling of emotional security. You’re someone who finds fulfillment in creating a beautiful, comforting, and harmonious living space—a place that feels like a sanctuary. Your home is likely a reflection of your personal style and values, and you might have a knack for interior design or decorating with a touch of elegance and warmth.

Relationships with family, especially with women or maternal figures, can be significant with this placement. There’s a desire to maintain peace and harmony within the family unit, and you may be the peacemaker, the one who smooths over conflicts or tries to keep everyone happy. But it’s important to ensure that your own emotional needs don’t get lost in the process of keeping the peace.

On a deeper level, Venus here suggests that you seek emotional security through close, loving connections. You thrive when you feel loved and supported at a core, foundational level. It’s not just about physical comfort—it’s about feeling emotionally safe and valued by those closest to you.

You might also have a love for nostalgia, family heirlooms, or anything that carries sentimental value. Surrounding yourself with things that evoke happy memories can be incredibly fulfilling.

Venus in the 5th house

With Venus in the 5th house, life becomes so much more fulfilling when you let yourself fully lean into joy, creativity, and self-expression. This placement is all about letting your inner artist come out to play. Maybe it’s painting, dancing, writing poetry, or just finding little ways to make everyday life feel more romantic and fun. You’re someone who thrives when you’re creating beauty or experiencing it, so make time for the things that light you up.

Love and romance are also major sources of fulfillment for you. But it’s not just about falling in love with someone else—it’s about falling in love with life itself. Date yourself. Treat yourself to little luxuries, whether it’s a spontaneous weekend trip, a fancy coffee, or a night out doing something you genuinely enjoy. The more you infuse your days with moments that feel special, the more alive you’ll feel.

And don’t forget to play. Venus in the 5th house is like the cosmic permission slip to embrace your inner child. Go do things just for the fun of it, without any expectation of being productive or impressive. Whether it’s a silly game night with friends or trying something new just for the thrill, those moments of pure, uncomplicated joy are what keep your spirit thriving.

You also have a gift for making others feel special, and that can be incredibly fulfilling. Compliment someone, write a love letter, or surprise a friend with something thoughtful. The love you give has a way of coming back to you tenfold, especially when it’s given without expectation.

Venus in the 6th house

With Venus in the 6th house, life feels more fulfilling when you find beauty and pleasure in the everyday routines. You’re someone who can turn even the simplest tasks into something enjoyable—like making your morning coffee a little ritual, organizing your workspace to feel cozy and inviting, or putting on your favorite playlist while you get things done. The more you bring a sense of grace and harmony to your daily life, the more content and grounded you’ll feel.

Work and service are big themes here too. You’re at your best when you’re doing work that feels meaningful, especially if it involves helping others or creating a more pleasant, harmonious environment. Maybe you have a knack for making things look beautiful, whether it’s arranging flowers, designing a workspace, or just bringing a calm, welcoming vibe to the office. The key is to find work that not only supports you financially but also feels rewarding on a soul level.

There’s also a desire for balance and harmony in your health and wellness routines. You might feel most fulfilled when you’re taking care of yourself in a way that feels good rather than just going through the motions. Think gentle movement, nourishing foods, or creating a relaxing bedtime routine that genuinely helps you unwind.

Relationships with coworkers or those you see on a day-to-day basis can be another source of warmth and connection. You’re someone who can make even mundane interactions feel pleasant and kind, and that energy tends to come back to you. Small acts of kindness, thoughtful gestures, or simply taking time to connect can bring a lot of subtle but lasting fulfillment.

Venus in the 7th house

With Venus in the 7th house, life feels most fulfilling when you’re deeply connected to others in a way that’s balanced, loving, and genuinely harmonious. You’re someone who craves meaningful, one-on-one connections—whether it’s a romantic partnership, a close friendship, or even a business collaboration. You naturally know how to make people feel seen and appreciated, and that energy tends to draw others to you like a magnet.

Romantic relationships are especially significant with this placement. You thrive in partnerships where there’s mutual respect, affection, and a sense of shared beauty—whether that’s creating a beautiful home together, going on romantic dates, or just finding little ways to make each other feel special. But it’s not just about having a partner; it’s about having a partnership that feels balanced and fair, where both people feel equally valued.

There’s also a talent for creating harmony and peace in your interactions. You’re a natural mediator, someone who can smooth over conflicts and help people find common ground. This can be a gift in both personal and professional relationships, but it’s important to be mindful of not over-compromising just to keep the peace. Your needs matter too.

Life also feels more fulfilling when you surround yourself with beauty and grace. Maybe that means planning intimate gatherings, visiting art galleries, or simply spending time with people who inspire you. The more you cultivate relationships that feel warm, loving, and aesthetically pleasing, the more fulfilled you’ll feel.

Venus in the 8th house

With Venus in the 8th house, life feels most fulfilling when you’re diving deep—into relationships, into your own psyche, into the mysteries of life. Superficial connections just don’t do it for you; you crave intensity, intimacy, and transformative experiences that feel almost soul-deep. You’re drawn to people and situations that make you feel seen in ways that are profound, raw, and real.

There’s a magnetic, almost hypnotic quality to your presence. People may find themselves confiding in you or feeling inexplicably drawn to you. But fulfillment doesn’t come from just any connection—it comes from those rare, all-consuming bonds where you can be completely vulnerable and still feel safe and valued.

Money and resources can also be areas of focus with this placement. You might find yourself drawn to situations involving shared finances, inheritances, or investments. You could even have a knack for attracting wealth through partnerships or strategic alliances. But the deeper lesson here is about not letting money or possessions define your worth. True abundance for you is about emotional and spiritual richness, not just material wealth.

Sexuality, too, can be a path to fulfillment. You’re someone who experiences love and desire intensely, and casual flings may leave you feeling empty. You crave the kind of connection where intimacy isn’t just physical—it’s emotional, psychological, even spiritual. When you find someone you can trust enough to let your guard down completely, that’s where the magic happens.

Healing and transformation are big themes here too. You have the potential to deeply heal yourself and others by facing your own shadows and helping others face theirs. The more you embrace the depths of who you are—the light and the dark—the more empowered and fulfilled you’ll feel.

Venus in the 9th house

With Venus in the 9th house, life feels most fulfilling when you’re exploring, learning, and expanding your horizons. You’re someone who finds beauty in the bigger picture—in new experiences, different cultures, and the pursuit of knowledge that opens your mind and heart. Routine and predictability can feel stifling; you crave the excitement of discovering new perspectives and connecting with people who inspire you to think differently.

Travel can be a major source of joy and inspiration. You’re the type who falls in love with distant places, foreign customs, and the feeling of being somewhere completely new. Even if you can’t physically travel, exploring new philosophies, spiritual practices, or higher education can give you that same sense of expansion and fulfillment.

Relationships often take on a more adventurous, expansive quality with this placement. You’re drawn to people who broaden your worldview—those who challenge you to see life through a different lens. Romantic connections might even come through travel, education, or shared beliefs, and you’re likely most attracted to those who have a bit of a free spirit or worldly vibe.

You also have a love for wisdom and meaning. Superficial small talk? Not your thing. You want conversations that go deeper, that explore life’s purpose or the nature of love and beauty. You might feel most fulfilled when you’re discussing philosophy, spirituality, or big-picture ideas that make you feel more connected to something greater than yourself.

Venus in the 10th house

With Venus in the 10th house, life feels most fulfilling when you’re recognized for your talents, beauty, or charm in a public or professional setting. You naturally know how to present yourself in a way that’s attractive and appealing, making you someone who can easily win people over in business, career, or social circles. There’s a magnetic quality to how you carry yourself, and people often notice your grace, style, or charisma.

You’re someone who finds purpose in being admired for what you do, not just who you are. There’s a desire to be respected, appreciated, or even loved for your work or contributions to the world. You might feel most fulfilled when you’re in a role where you can express your Venusian qualities—art, design, fashion, beauty, diplomacy, or any field where creating harmony and aesthetics is part of the job.

Relationships can also play a significant role in your career or public life. You may attract partners who can elevate your status or support your ambitions, or you may find love through work or professional connections. There’s a natural talent for networking and forming alliances that are both beneficial and pleasant.

However, the lesson here is not to get too caught up in appearances or external validation. It’s great to be admired, but true fulfillment comes from doing work that feels aligned with your values and brings a sense of genuine accomplishment. When you’re creating something that feels beautiful or meaningful to you, the recognition naturally follows.

There’s also a graceful, diplomatic way you handle responsibilities. You can be a natural mediator or someone who brings a touch of elegance to leadership roles. People may look up to you not just for what you achieve, but for how you achieve it—with poise, tact, and a genuine love for what you do.

Venus in the 11th house

With Venus in the 11th house, life feels most fulfilling when you’re surrounded by people who share your values, dreams, and ideals. You’re someone who thrives in groups, communities, and friendships where there’s a sense of connection and mutual support. You naturally attract people who are kind, artistic, or socially conscious, and you have a knack for making others feel welcome and included.

Friendships can be a major source of joy for you. You’re the type who genuinely enjoys connecting people, bringing different circles together, or planning gatherings that feel warm and inclusive. You have a way of making group settings feel more harmonious, and people are drawn to your easygoing, likable energy.

There’s also a love for causes, movements, or shared visions. You might feel most fulfilled when you’re involved in projects that bring people together for a greater purpose—whether it’s activism, charity work, or just creating a sense of community. You’re someone who can bring a touch of beauty or artistry to group efforts, whether that’s through creative collaborations, event planning, or just making things feel more pleasant and inviting.

Romance can also have a slightly unconventional vibe here. You might find yourself falling for someone who feels more like a best friend, or you could meet partners through social groups, online communities, or shared interests. The lines between friendship and romance can blur, and you’re likely drawn to people who share your hopes and dreams for the future.

But the key to feeling truly fulfilled with this placement is to stay connected to what you love, not just who you love. What are the big dreams and visions that light you up? What kind of people make you feel inspired and uplifted? The more you surround yourself with those kinds of connections, the more your Venus shines.

Venus in the 12th house

With Venus in the 12th house, life feels most fulfilling when you’re tapping into the deeper, more subtle layers of love, beauty, and connection. You’re someone who experiences love in a soulful, almost otherworldly way. There’s a natural pull toward the mystical, the hidden, and the unspoken, and you may find yourself drawn to people or experiences that feel a bit like a dream or a secret.

There’s a deep, compassionate heart here. You’re someone who can love unconditionally, often seeing the beauty in people that others might overlook. But there can also be a tendency to give too much or to lose yourself in relationships, so finding that balance between self-sacrifice and self-love is key.

Solitude can be incredibly nourishing for you. Time alone, daydreaming, creating art, or simply getting lost in your own inner world can feel as fulfilling as being with others. You might find peace through spiritual practices, meditation, or spending time in nature—anything that allows you to connect with the intangible.

Love can be a bit elusive with this placement. There might be secret relationships, unspoken feelings, or attractions to people who are somehow unavailable or difficult to reach. There’s a romantic, almost fairy-tale quality to how you experience love, but it can also mean that you’re drawn to situations that are more fantasy than reality.

Art, music, and anything that allows you to express the deeper, more emotional parts of yourself can be incredibly healing and fulfilling. You have a gift for channeling your feelings into something beautiful, and the more you do that, the more your soul feels nourished.

[yuta-nakamots]

Dive Into You - L.Haechan

Pairing - Boyfriend!Haechan x University!AFAB Reader

Genre(s) - Fluff, Smut, University!AU

Warning(s) - smut, unprotected sex, reader wears a bikini, slight public sex (more like just public indecency and really heavy petting), dry (wet?) humping, creampie, multiple orgasms, marriage, reader and haechan have a kid 

Summary - After a whirlwind semester, Haechan sweeps you away on a surprise getaway after finals are over. Between salty kisses and soft-spoken promises, you both begin to realize that Fridays mark more than just the end of the week, they mark the beginning of something new. 

Word Count - 7.5k 

Author’s Note - I meant to get this out on his birthday but got caught up in life so I guess happy belated birthday to Haechan haha

Taglist - @k-vanity @cosyhomenet @neocity-net @k-films @cinneorolls @dinonuguaegi @tinyzen @fancypeacepersona (join my taglist!)

Written for the Resonance Beach Collab originally hosted by @loeycity. Part of the K-Films Summer Event 2025 hosted by @k-films. Also part of my NCT Dream: Seven Days Collection. 

Now playing: Dive Into You - NCT Dream, Bahama - aespa

You first met Haechan in a music theory class halfway through the semester. You were taking it for your degree, as was he, though he hadn’t managed to show up to a class thus far because of his busy idol career. On his day off, he finally attended class for the first time, slipping into the back row of the lecture hall ten minutes late, wearing sunglasses indoors and a hoodie too big for the late-spring weather. Yet no one batted an eye. That’s the thing about university, you could be a celebrity or a sleep-deprived caffeine gremlin and still get away with everything as long as you looked miserable enough. 

He sat beside you, even though the rest of the row was empty. “Your notes looked better than mine,” he remarked. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you even enrolled in this class?”

He grinned, teeth flashing beneath the shadow of his hood. “Technically.”

“Technically,” you repeated, unimpressed, as you angled your notebook away from him. 

“Come on,” he whined, nudging your elbow with his. “The midterm is next week, I haven’t studied, and my manager thinks I’m watching video lectures at home right now. Help a guy out?”

You sighed, already sliding your notes a little closer. “If I get caught helping you cheat, you better buy me lunch.”

“Deal,” he agreed, a little too quickly. “And maybe a song.” 

“A song?” You questioned.

“You’ll see.”

Your friendship with Haechan started just like that. A few shared notes, a couple late-night study sessions in the campus café when he had time off in his schedule. He hummed next to you while you worked on your laptop, occasionally changing songs halfway through the phrase just to annoy you. You quickly learned that when he wasn’t on stage, he was a menace with too many inside jokes, an alarming stash of memes, and a knack for making your cheeks hurt from laughing. 

The first time you let him into your apartment, he tripped over cables hooked up to music equipment. He made it up to you by immediately assisting in layering harmonies onto the half-finished chorus of a demo track you made. “This would sound so good with a weird falsetto ghost vocal,” he commented, already recording himself singing off your cheap microphone like it was a stadium stage. 

Somehow, you didn’t mind because somehow, his chaos just fit with yours. You made music together, half as a joke, half because it felt right. You teased him about his idol life, and he teased you about your messy desktop and how seriously you took your plugins. He never stopped talking, but you never wanted him to. Somewhere between 3AM laughter, breathless studio nights, and his fingers brushing yours over a keyboard, you stopped writing love songs about people who didn’t exist. 

One night, when your midterm projects were due and sleep felt like a forgotten luxury, he popped by your apartment with fast food and insisted on ‘helping’ you mix your final track. The ‘help’ amounted to him curling up on a chair next to you with a can of soda and randomly hitting keys on your MIDI keyboard while proclaiming it to be ‘art’. 

You swatted his hand away from your laptop for what had to be the tenth time. “You’re going to make me fail.” 

“I’m inspiring you,” he countered, leaning over your shoulder to peer at your project window. “See, this part? Needs more chaos.” 

“You are chaos.”

He laughed, dropping his chin to your shoulder. “I’m glad you finally noticed.”

You turned to look at him, a comeback ready, but the look on his face made the words freeze in your throat. You didn’t realize until that moment just how badly you wanted to kiss him, his lips looking so full and soft mere inches from you. Your breath caugh,t and Haechan heard, but didn’t move away. 

“If you keep looking at me like that,” he said quietly, the usual teasing in his voice softened by something more sincere, “I’m going to think you like me.”

Your eyes flickered to his. “What if I do?”

The words hung there, suspended in the space between your breath and his. You weren’t sure who leaned in first, but suddenly the distance didn’t exist. His lips met yours in a kiss that tasted like soda and secrets you didn’t want to keep anymore. It was gentle, slow, and careful, like neither of you wanted to break whatever this was turning into. 

When Haechan pulled away, his eyes searched yours. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, his usual bravado stripped away. 

You swallowed, heart thudding in your chest, and your brain fighting with every reason why this shouldn’t have happened. “Haechan,” you started hesitantly. “You’re…you. And I’m just me. This isn’t right.”

He tilted his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “Do you think I don’t know that?” You blinked. “I’ve thought about this, all the reasons it could go wrong. But then I think about how you save lecture notes for me, how you roll your eyes at me, but still tolerate me when I make a bad joke. I think about how I’ve never heard music the same since I first met you.” You looked down at your hands, the weight of reality pressing against the lightness you felt just seconds ago. “Hey.” He reached for your hand. “I can’t promise it’ll be perfect, but I can promise I’ll show up. For you, for this, for us.” 

Your eyes meet his again. There was no cockiness there, just quiet determination and something you realized had been growing behind all his jokes and late-night harmonies. It was real, terrifying, beautiful affection. You nodded slowly, lips drawing up into a small smile. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He echoed, eyes widening. 

“But if I end up in a dating scandal, you better write me a hit breakup song.”

He laughed, his fingers lacing through yours. “Deal. But I’m aiming for a love song first.” And somehow, it felt like the beginning of one. 

Your relationship didn’t erupt like the drop of a chorus, it eased in like a warm synth line, subtle but impossible to ignore. Somewhere in the haze of long nights and low battery percentages, between split headphones and shared playlists, Haechan became the rhythm you moved to without even realizing it. 

One night, long past midnight, you both sat sprawled on the floor of your apartment, surrounded by tangled cables, empty ramen bowls, and the fading echo of a demo track you’d been layering harmonies into. You lay back, arms spread out, gaze unfocused on the water-stained ceiling. “I want to do this forever,” you swooned. “Not the ramen-for-dinner part, I mean the music. Producing, composing, I want it to be my life.”

Haechan was quiet for a beat, then shifted to lie next to you, his shoulder brushing yours. “I think about that too,” he said. “I think about what I’ll do when the spotlight fades, if I’ll still be making music, if I’ll still be me without the stage.”

You turned to look at him. In the dim blue haze of your laptop screen, he looked less like an idol and more like just a boy who loved music too much to let it go. “I think you’ll still be you,” you murmured. “Just…a  little less glitter and a little more sleep.”

He laughed at that. “You think I’ll sleep? I’ll be recording your songs. That’s what my future looks like. You, writing chaotic brilliance in your studio, and me, still trying to convince you to add in a nonsensical adlib.”

“I don’t pay you enough for this,” you joke. 

“You don’t pay me at all.”

A grin spread across your face. “Exactly.” That night ended like most did these days, with your head on his chest, fingers tangled, some indie R&B track humming softly in the background. 

But finals week and a new comeback changed the tempo. You barely saw him after that. He was swallowed by comeback promotions–early call times, live broadcasts, and late-night rehearsals. You, in turn, were drowning in projects, caffeine, and academic despair. The apartment was filled with the evidence of the struggle, empty energy drink cans, abandoned sheet music, and forgotten takeout containers strewn across the floor. 

You missed Haechan in moments that didn’t make sense, like when your headphones didn’t sit quite right, when a melody sounded a bit lonely, when your mind wrote a joke only he would laugh at. So when your last exam ended on a bright Friday afternoon and you staggered out of the lecture hall blinking like a mole, you didn’t expect to find Haechan standing just outside the door. 

He was wearing sunglasses indoors again, paired with an all too large hoodie, like it was the first day you met all over. But this time, he was holding two plane tickets. “Fridays are meant to be fun,” he said, grinning like he had a secret, “so I made one just for you.”

You stared at him, eyes going wide. “What?”

“Hope you have your passport, because we’re leaving like, now. Tropics. You, me, no deadlines.”

“Haechan.” You deadpanned. “Are you kidnapping me?”

He pulled down his sunglasses just enough for you to see him wink. “Only a little. You seem like you could go for some sleep and peace, and actual food for once.” 

You huffed a breath, somewhere between laughter and disbelief. “You’re insane.”

“I’m you’re insane,” he corrected, curling a finger into the strap of your backpack to tug you closer. “This is me keeping my promise.” So you let him take your hand, let him lead you out of the building and into the very beginning of your own song. There’s no chorus yet, just an opening note that felt like freedom. 

You were half-asleep by the time the plane took off. At some point during the flight, you woke up with Haechan’s hoodie draped over your lap and his hand curled loosely around yours, his thumb moving in slow, absentminded circles. You wanted to be annoyed, you really did. He hijacked your post-finals crash and turned it into a spontaneous getaway with little to no time for packing. Who does that? But as warm sunlight spilled through the plane window and Haechan softly hummed a tune you vaguely recognized as one of your demos, annoyance melted into something warmer. 

By the time your feet hit the sand in the Bahamas, you’d accepted two things. One, you were exhausted, but you were here with Haechan. Two, you wouldn’t be getting any rest with Haechan looking at you like that. 

The private villa he booked looked like it had been pulled straight from a honeymoon brochure with whitewashed walls, a hammock strung lazily between palm trees, and the sea glittering just beyond your doorstep. You barely had time to toss your bag onto the bed before Haechan grabbed your hand again, pulling you out to the beach with the urgency of someone racing daylight.

You squinted against the sun. “I can’t believe you kidnapped me.”

“You say kidnapped, I say rescued,” he replied smugly, already kicking his slides off, dragging you toward the shoreline. “You were on the verge of becoming a coffee-addicted music gremlin.”

“I think you missed the part where I already am one.”

Haechan gasped like you just confessed to a felony. “You admit it? Bold.”

You shot him a look. “You say that like you haven’t seen me crawling on the floor at 4AM trying to find a flash drive.”

He grinned. “I’ve also seen you fall asleep with a pencil in your mouth and four open Ableton projects on your screen, so yeah, it was time for an intervention.”

You barely had time to reply before a splash of water hit your shins. You gasped, stunned, looking down at your now-soaked pants. Haechan stood a few feet into the waves, a boyish and playful smile on his face as he cupped more water in his hands. You narrowed your eyes at him. “Did you just–” Before you could finish the sentence, he splashed you again. “Haechan!” you shrieked, stumbling backward as cold water hit your thighs. 

You kicked off your shoes and chased him into the water, shrieking as the ocean soaked through your clothes. Haechan laughed wildly, arms flailing as he tried to evade you, which didn’t work out all that good for him when he tripped and nearly face planted into a wave. You pounced on him. 

The two of you wrestled in the shallows, screaming and splashing like kids on summer break. At one point, he scooped you up bridal style only to dramatically dunk you, then immediately panicked when he thought you might actually be mad. You emerged like a sea monster, hair dripping and clinging to your cheeks, and tackled him right back into the water.

“Timeout!” he gasped between laughs, hands raised in surrender. “You’re actually kind of terrifying like this.”

“You deserve terrifying,” you shot back, breathless from laughing. “I’m still in my clothes, you maniac.”

He swam closer, catching your wrist under the surface. “Okay, but like, you’re also kind of hot when you’re angry.” You rolled your eyes, heart racing not just from the chase, but from the way Haechan was looking at you. His hair was plastered to his forehead, skin glistening with saltwater, and his thumb rubbed against your wrist like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. “Come on,” he said softly, tugging you toward the shore. “Let’s go change and swim for real. I want to see you in that bikini set I know you packed.”

You changed in the bathroom of the villa while Haechan took forever in the outdoor shower, emerging half-wet and humming something suspiciously romantic under his breath. When you finally stepped out in your bikini, adjusting the strap at your shoulder, you didn’t even get the chance to say anything.

Haechan stopped mid-hum, jaw slack. “...Okay,” he said after a beat. “I lied. You’re not terrifying, you’re going to ruin my life.”

You raised a brow, crossing your arms. “That’s a bit dramatic.”

“No, no, no,” he stepped closer, eyes never leaving you. “You’re not allowed to look like that and expect me to behave. I brought you here for relaxation. This is not relaxing.” You laughed, flushed and flattered, but his tone shifted as he got closer. His hand skimmed down your arm, deliberate now, no more teasing in his touch. His fingers slipped just under the curve of your waist. “Mine,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “Everyone else can look at the ocean while I look at you.”

You swallowed hard. “You brought me to paradise, and now you’re acting like you want to keep me locked in the villa.” 

Haechan leaned in, mouth brushing just below your ear. “I absolutely want to keep you locked in the villa.” Your breath hitched, and the air between you shifted, lazy heat turning into something far more dangerous. His hands didn’t leave your skin. “But I promised a beach day,” his voice dipped, sounding like velvet and fire, “so you better walk ahead of me and give me something to look at.” 

You smacked his chest, laughing. “You’re impossible.” 

“And you’re unreal,” he countered, grin crooked, pupils blown wide. “Let’s go swimming before I forget how to be decent in public.” 

You hadn’t even made it ten steps outside before Haechan was at your side again, fingers laced with yours, palms tight against each other like he couldn’t stand even that much distance. The sand was warm underfoot, powder-soft between your toes, the ocean glittering like a postcard dream just a few yards away. 

The water was perfect. Warm, clear, and so inviting, it almost made you forget the way Haechan’s eyes had darkened the second he saw you step out from the bathroom. He followed you into the ocean like a man possessed, hands already reaching before the waves even reached your hips. You squealed when he caught your waist from behind, spinning you in the water with a triumphant laugh. 

“Don’t act surprised,” his lips brushing your exposed shoulder. “You came out here looking like that and expect me to behave? Please.” You rolled your eyes at his theatrics, but your pulse was a dead giveaway. 

His hands were everywhere, drifting down your spine, splaying wide over your stomach, teasingly tugging at the strap on your shoulder like he was two seconds away from snapping it. When you waded deeper, Haechan followed like a shadow, grabbing your hips under the surface and pulling you flush against him, salt-slick skin on skin. You twisted in his arms, giggling, trying to push him away, but he only groaned low in your ear and held you tighter. “You think I’m playing,” he muttered, fingers trailing under the water, slipping between the thin stretch of your bikini top. You gasped as he cupped one breast, his thumb circling with infuriating slowness, masked by the motion of the waves. 

“Haechan—” you whispered, scandalized and breathless. 

He just smirked. “No one can see us. We’re underwater.” You weren’t sure if that was true or if he just didn’t care. Probably both. He kissed you then, salt and heat and something greedy in the way his tongue brushed yours. The kind of kiss that melted your knees even in the water, the kind of kiss that left you breathless and aching and already wishing you were somewhere more private. 

His hands didn’t behave. One stayed low on your waist, the other sliding beneath the fabric again, bolder this time, palm warm and rough where it wasn’t supposed to be. He kissed you harder when you gasped again, like he wanted to devour every sound. 

“Don’t you dare,” you scolded when he started to push a little further, slightly nudging the strap of your top to the edge of your shoulder. 

“Don’t I dare what?” he asked, all innocence and sin. “Touch my girlfriend?” You splashed him in the face. He laughed, full-bodied and beautiful, but even then he didn’t let go. His arms circled your waist, drawing you against his chest like he couldn’t live without his skin on yours. “I love this swimsuit,” his lips moving against your cheek. “I love how it looks on you. I also love that I’m the one who gets to take it off later.” 

You swatted at him again, face burning, but he caught your wrist and kissed your knuckles, then your inner wrist, then the inside of your elbow, making his way back up your arm like a man worshipping something divine. You hated how easily he made you fold. 

Eventually, the two of you migrated back to shore, half-drunk on heat and horniness. The sun dipped low on the horizon, turning the sky into a watercolor gold and flame. You sank into the warm sand belly down, his thigh pressed against yours as he lay on his back, your fingers tangled together with his. You propped yourself up on your elbows, drawing shapes in the sand with your free hand. 

“Mmm,” Haechan hummed, his eyes following your finger in the sand. “This is almost enough to distract me from the fact that I can see the curve of your ass through that bikini.” 

You snorted and looked away from him. “You’re ridiculous.” 

“I’m in pain, actually,” he said, reaching over and placing a palm on the back of your thigh, fingers sliding upward. “Real suffering is happening right now.” 

“You’re the one who dragged me here. This is your fault.”

“And yet,” his eyes traced over your body like he was memorizing every sun-kissed inch, “I would do it again. A hundred times. Just to watch the way you move with barely anything on.” Your heart stuttered. Haechan pulled back to meet your gaze. “We should head back,” his voice rougher now, molten and thick. “Or else I will fuck you right here, right now.” You could tell he meant it. 

There was nothing joking in his eyes now, only heat and hunger, tethered just barely by your hand in his. You stood slowly, tugging him up by the wrist. “Then let’s go,” you say confidently. “Before you really lose your mind.” 

Haechan groaned like you’d just given him the best present of his life. “Race you to the villa,” he prompted, already grabbing your hand. But you didn’t run. You walked slowly, skin still tingling, Haechan’s hand never leaving yours, practically pulling you as the sky burned orange above. 

You reached the edge of the villa’s patio just as the last sliver of sun kissed the horizon, casting everything in warm honey and soft firelight. Haechan tugged you toward the outdoor shower, barely glancing over his shoulder as he flicked the water on. “Get in,” his voice low and coaxing. “You’re all sandy.”

You looked him up and down. “So are you.”

“Guess we’ll just have to help each other out,” he said, eyes gleaming.

The water was lukewarm, cascading in soft rivulets over your sun-warmed skin. Haechan stepped in behind you, crowding your space like he had no concept of personal space, his hands sliding up your waist, over your stomach, until resting under the swell of your breasts. You shivered when his fingers slipped beneath your bikini again, cupping one breast with no hesitation, thumb brushing over your nipple until it peaked under his touch. 

“Haechan,” you warned, breath catching.

“I know,” he practically growled, pressing closer, hips grinding slowly against your ass. “We’re technically at the villa…” His hips rolled, unhurried yet firm. You felt him, thick and hard beneath the wet cling of his swim trunks, grinding into you like he was seconds away from losing his sanity. 

You gasped as he moved your bikini top aside completely, exposing your breasts to the air and the spray of the water. “Haechan–”

“No one’s out here,” he whined, mouth finding your shoulder, biting it lightly. “We’re still on our villa property.”

“There’s only trees, no fence,” you hissed. “Anyone could walk by–”

“Let them,” he muttered, grinding harder, one hand sliding down to palm at the softness of your thighs. “Let them see how pretty you are when you let me touch you.” You moaned at his words, reaching behind you to grab at him, palm sliding down his abdomen, fingers slipping beneath the band of his trunks. 

He groaned through his teeth, thrusting forward involuntarily. “Fuck, baby,” he breathed. “I want you so bad I’m gonna die.” 

“We can’t,” you insist, even as you arch into his hold on your breasts from how good his hands felt. “We can’t do it out here.”

“Why not?” he begged, kissing up your spine. “We’re dripping wet, you’re practically naked, I’m hard, just let me–”

“No,” your voice firm while grabbing one of the towels hanging by the knobs of the shower and moving your top back into place. “Inside. Now.” You barely managed to toss it around yourself before his hands found your waist again. You glared at him, and he growled in frustration, eyes dark and glassy, but the second you turned toward the villa, he was grabbing a towel and he was on you again, barely letting either of you dry off before he was hauling you through the door. 

The door had barely clicked shut behind both of you when Haechan was already reaching for your towel, mouth crashing into yours like he’d been starved for days. But you pulled back before he could drag it off you entirely, palm firm against his chest. 

“Hold on,” you command, eyeing the growing puddle surrounding the two of you. “You’re soaking wet. We’re dripping all over the floor.”

“I’ll clean it up later,” he muttered, stepping closer to kiss along your neck, but you pushed at him again. 

“No, you’ll slip and die before we even make it to the bed,” you say playfully with a smirk, grabbing the towel he’d brought in with him. “Stand still.”

His brows furrowed, his hair wet and wild over his forehead. “Wait…what?”

You only smiled and tossed the towel over his head. “I said, stand still.” 

Haechan stood frozen as you began to dry him off, starting at his head, rubbing the towel gently over his hair. Your fingers massaged his scalp as you worked, slow and soothing, watching his eyes flutter closed under your touch. Then you moved to his neck, the hollow of his throat, the slick curve of his shoulders. “You’re really gonna take your time with this, huh?” he asked, unamused. 

“Uh-huh,” you respond, dragging the towel down his chest, deliberately slow, the plush fabric skimming over his nipples. He twitched slightly under your touch. 

You made a show of dragging the towel over every inch of him, his stomach, the sharp cut of his hips, the waistband of his swim trunks. Then you dropped the towel lower, pressing your palm over his length through the fabric of the towel. 

Haechan cursed under his breath, thighs tensing. “Baby–”

You rubbed slowly, palm flat, teasing pressure, feeling how hard he already was. His hands hovered like he didn’t know what to do with them, torn between grabbing you and obeying. “I thought you wanted to be dry,” you cooed, glancing up at him through your lashes. 

“I do,” he groaned. “I do. But, fuck, you’re killing me.”

You squeezed his length softly, just enough to make him choke on air. “Is that better?”

He threw his head back, jaw clenched. “You’re evil. I’m gonna die. Actually die.”

You leaned in, kissing a droplet of water from his collarbone, your hand still moving against him through the towel. “Maybe. But at least you’ll die warm and dry.”

He whimpered, actually whimpered, hips rolling into your hand. “Please,” he begged, desperate now. “Let me touch you, let me taste you, anything. I need you.”

You let the towel slip from your grasp, the object of Haechan’s agony falling to the floor. “Then take me to bed.” 

He didn’t need to be told twice. In a blur of motion, he had you pressed against the bed, your towel forgotten. You barely caught your breath before he was on you again, hot, hungry, and entirely yours. 

Haechan’s hands found your waist again, pulling you flush against him as his hips began to grind with a desperate, jagged rhythm. You gasped at the friction, the slick heat of him pressing through the damp fabric of your bikini bottoms. His fingers tangled in your hair, his breath ragged as he nuzzled your neck. “You feel so good,” he murmured, voice rough and needy. His movements grew more frantic, less controlled, as if holding himself back was a losing battle. 

Your hands roamed his chest, nails scraping lightly over his skin as he ground harder, hips rocking against you in a slow, scorching tease. You could feel the pressure building in him, thick, pulsing, utterly relentless. Haechan’s grinding slowed just enough for you to feel every inch of him pressed through the thin fabric, teasing and maddeningly close. His breath was ragged in your ear, words lost to the haze of want and heat. Your hands slid under the waistband of his damp shorts, fingers curling around the fabric as you tugged gently but firmly. Haechan froze for a second, chest rising a falling fast, then gave a breathy laugh. 

“Can’t wait any longer, huh?” you teased, dragging the shorts down over his hips and thigh before he kicked them off.

He was fully naked above you now, his skin gleaming under the fading light of sunset, every muscle taut and trembling with need. His hardness pressed sharply against your stomach through the thin fabric of your bikini bottoms, twitching with each shallow breath. Haechan’s eyes were dark, glazed with want, and he didn’t hesitate to lean forward, mouth finding your collarbone as his hands roamed over your skin. His hips began to move again, slow and deliberate at first, pressing with a teasing persistence over you, every brush of skin against skin setting fire to your nerves. 

Haechan’s hands slid up your sides, urgent but reverent, until they cupped your breasts over your bikini. His thumbs circled your peaked nipples through the damp fabric, coaxing a gasp from your lips. “So soft,” he muttered while kneading your breasts, voice wrecked like he was in a dream he couldn’t quite believe. “So perfect, all for me.”

You arched into his hands, breath catching, and he took that as permission to push the fabric aside once more. Your nipples were pebbled in the open air, and then his mouth was on you, hot and wet, tongue swirling, lips sucking, his teeth lightly scraping. His hips kept moving, grinding against your clit through the soaked barrier between you, the pressure maddeningly precise. “Haechan,” you breathed, your nails digging into his shoulders, your body thrumming with tension. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispered between kisses to your chest, hips never stopping. “Gotta make you feel good. I need to–fuck, baby–need to feel you fall apart.” 

Your hips lifted instinctively, chasing the drag of his cock against your clit, even through the layer of clothing. His cock twitched, leaking pre-cum that smeared slick against your skin and mixed with your own arousal, making the friction even worse. It was so good it was almost cruel. He rutted harder now, sweat and water making his glide even easier, messy and hot. “Oh my god,” Haechan groaned, hips stuttering. “Fuck…fuck, I’m–”

You felt it before you saw it, his cock jerking between your bodies as he came hard, hot ropes of cum spilling onto your stomach, dripping down your sides as his thrusts slowed, then faltered. He collapsed forward, breathless laughter bubbling against your chest. 

“Are you proud of yourself?” he rasped, barely able to lift his head, still panting. “You wrecked me.” 

You smiled, eyes fluttering shut. “A little.” But then you felt it, his cock, still hard, twitching again as he looked down at the mess he made. Haechan moaned low in his throat, eyes glassy as he licked a stripe of cum from your stomach, lips brushing your skin in an obscene way. 

When he reached your navel, he looked up to you with something dark and hungry. “Inside this time,” he whispered. You didn’t say a word, you just nodded. 

He surged up to kiss you, slow and deep, tongue sweeping into your mouth as he pressed his length against you again. The kiss was different now, less frantic, more deliberate, and you could taste remnants of his cum, tangy but slightly salty as it mixed with the lingering seawater on your skin. You reached between your bodies, tugging your bikini bottom to the side. He groaned as his cock slid through your slick folds, the head catching just below your clit before dragging down again. He did it twice, three times, coating himself in your arousal. Each pass made your thighs shake. 

When he finally pressed in slow and steady, stretching you open, you gasped, grabbing his biceps. Haechan held your gaze, even as a tremor ran through his whole body. “You feel unreal,” he whispered. The thrusts were slow and deep at first, hips rolling, not just to chase pleasure, but to memorize how you felt around him. Every drag of his cock against your walls had you gasping, thighs locked around his waist. 

Earlier, he had been desperate to lose himself in you. Now, he was desperate to stay in this moment. His forehead pressed to yours. “Let me see you cum,” he pleaded, one hand driving down to circle your clit, the pad of his finger working you in slow, steady circles while his cock filled you over and over. 

The pressure built fast, your body was already primed from how he had bullied your clit with his cock earlier, the way he had made you ache from the rutting of his hips before he even got inside you. You cried out, clenching around him, your orgasm snapping sharp and intense as you clenched around his cock. 

Haechan moaned as you pulsed around him, his rhythm faltering. “Fuck, baby, you’re squeezing me so tight, so good.”

You felt him tremble above you, like it took every ounce of willpower not to cum. His cock twitched inside you, but he held still, panting against your lips, eyes wide and shining. “Don’t move,” he said, more of a command to himself than to you. “I’m not done.” 

Before you could reply, he pulled out slowly, his cock dragging slick and heavy against your walls. You whimpered at the loss, but he was already shifting, already flipping you onto your stomach, handling you like something precious but breakable. Your cheek pressed into the sheets, and you barely caught your breath before you felt his hands spreading you apart, his cock sliding between your soaked folds, grinding up against your entrance and ass, teasing and filthy. 

“Shit,” he breathed, rutting forward, dragging the head of his cock through your folds before rocking it between the cheeks of your ass. “You’re so wet…you want it like this, huh?” His voice cracked on a moan as he rocked forward again, not quite slipping in, but close enough to make you ache. 

“Please, Haechan,” you whined, writhing back into him, greedy for the weight of him inside you. “Put it back in. I need you.” That was all it took. He pressed into you again, entering you all too easily, your body welcoming him soft and hot and soaked with everything he’d pulled from you. His cock sank in deep, and he groaned loud against your ear, collapsing over you like he couldn’t hold himself up anymore. 

“Fuck,” he cried, rutting shallowly, hips flush to your ass. “Fuck, you feel too good. I can’t–I can’t stop.” His arms slid beneath you, wrapping tightly around your chest. One hand curled over your breast, squeezing as he buried his face in the curve when your shoulder met your neck, teeth scraping gently at the skin there. The other traveled down, urgent and clumsy, until his fingers found your clit again. He rubbed you with no tempo, no restraint, just pure desperation. “Wanna feel you cum with me,” his voice was shaking. “Wanna feel you clench around me, while I’m inside, while I fill you up.”

The angle had him pushing in deeper, the stretch unbearable and perfect, your entire body wound up beneath his. You could feel it coming again, the pressure sharp and devastating, your moans helpless as he rutted harder against you, gasping every time you clenched around him. Then it hit, sudden and overwhelming, tearing through you as you sobbed his name into the sheets. Your walls fluttered around him, tight and wet and trembling. 

Haechan cursed, cock throbbing deep inside you as he finally let go. He came with a broken cry, hips stuttering against your ass as he pressed as deep as he possibly could, like he never wanted to leave your body again. His cum spilled inside you, warm and thick, and he held you tight, still moving in tiny thrusts, dragging it out as long as he could. Afterward, he didn’t move, just breathed against your back, arms still wrapped around your chest like he was afraid you’d disappear. 

You didn’t speak for a long time. Just the two of you, tangled together in the afterglow, his breath fanning hot against your shoulder, your heartbeat slowly syncing back to something steady. His arms stayed wrapped around you, even as his cock softened inside you and your bodies finally relaxed into the sheets. You could feel the sweat cooling on your skin, the dampness between your thighs, the faint ache in your hips, and still, you didn’t want to move. 

Eventually, Haechan shifted just enough to slip out of you, making you whimper at the emptiness, but he hushed you with a kiss to your shoulder blade. He pulled away only long enough to grab the towel off the edge of the bed and gently cleaned between your thighs, mumbling quiet apologies when you flinched at the sensitivity. Then, he crawled right back into bed, curling himself around you like he belonged there. 

Your legs tangled instinctively. His hand found your waist under the sheet, warm and steady, and he tugged you closer until your back was snug to his chest, your head nestled under his chin. “You good?” he asked softly, voice scratchy and slow. 

You nodded, a faint smile playing on your lips. “Yeah. You?”

He hummed in response, then kissed the top of your head. His thumb rubbed idle circles into your hip bone. For a while, the only sound was the lull of waves outside, still crashing softly in the dark, echoing the pulse of your bodies slowly calming down. Then, so quiet you almost missed it, he said, “I want every Friday like this.” Your heart stuttered in your chest. “This one…” He hesitated, tightening his arms around you, like he needed to hold the thought together with his hands. “This one feels like the start of something.”

Your breath caught. You twisted just enough to look at him over your shoulder. His face was half-lit by the moonlight cutting across the room, but you could see the sincerity there. His eyes were warm and tender, never leaving yours. You reached up to brush his hair back from his forehead. “It does,” you whispered. “It really does.”

He smiled, slow and soft, and leaned in to kiss you again, gentle, no heat this time, just truth. Neither of you said anything else. You didn’t need to. Not when you were already wrapped up in what was starting, and not when Friday had never felt this good. 

The next morning, the light changed everything. It slipped in slowly through gauzy curtains, bathing the villa in soft gold. The ocean beyond the villa was calm now, like it had worn itself out from singing you to sleep. The salt-heavy breeze drifted in and made the white linen curtains sway, lazy and warm. 

You were still asleep when Haechan stirred. He didn’t move much, just shifted enough to lean up on one elbow, the sheet barely clinging to his hips. His gaze drifted to you, still curled beneath the covers, one hand tucked under your cheek, lips slightly parted. Your hair spilled across the pillow like something he could get lost in, and maybe he already had. 

He reached out, touched your shoulder gently, tracing the faintest circles with his fingertip. Not enough to wake you, just enough to feel the shape of you, real and here. You made a sleepy noise in your throat, but didn’t open your eyes. He smiled to himself. “What would life look like with you?” he pondered quietly, not really expecting an answer, just letting the thought live in the morning light. His finger trailed down your spine, leisurely. “Would we have a house?” he mused, voice low and thoughtful. “Backyard? One of those little ones who tugs at your shirt after preschool and asks for snacks and cartoons?” He paused, the smile spreading wider, eyes fond. “A kid who likes Fridays.”

You shifted under the sheets, breath catching on a sleepy laugh. Your voice came muffled against the pillow. “We’ll find out,” you murmured, still half-asleep. “One Friday at a time.”

His heart pulled tight. God, he wanted that. Not just the house, not just the child, but this–this exact moment, you still drowsy in his bed, the sound of your voice soft from sleep, your warmth next to him, as natural as breathing. He leaned down and kissed the bar curve of your shoulder, lingering there like a promise. “I’d give you every one,” he whispered. “Every Friday I’ve got.”

When you finally opened your eyes and turned to look at him, sleepy and smiling, it felt like maybe you believed him. Because this one, this Friday, felt like the start of everything. 

Years later, Fridays still hold meaning in your house. They always have, and probably always will. You hear them before you see them, your daughter’s giggles echoing down the hallway, pure and breathless, followed by the familiar thud of Haechan’s socked feet on the hardwood floor. 

He’s carrying her on his hip, her backpack slung over his other shoulder, her tiny hand clinging to the collar of his shirt. She’s still wearing the glittery pink hair clip she insisted on this morning, slightly askew now from whatever adventure she had at preschool. Her cheeks are flushed from the walk home, smiling brightly as she talks excitedly about something that happened on the playground. 

“She made a painting today,” Haechan calls out as he steps into the living room, his voice loud and proud. “It’s us. All three of us. And the sun has hearts in it because she said that’s what Friday feels like.” 

You set your laptop aside, rising from the couch just as your daughter wriggles in your arms, reaching for you. “Mommy!” she squeals, arms flung wide as Haechan lowers her carefully into your embrace. 

“She missed you,” Haechan murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple before dropping her backpack by the door. “And she may or may not have convinced me to stop for strawberry milk.”

Your daughter pulls back just enough to show you her pink-stained lips and a guilty smile, causing you to laugh. “I see that.”

Later, after dinner and bath time and a chaotic attempt at brushing her teeth, the house quiets again. The dishes are done, the toys are tucked away, and the soft glow of your living room lap spills across the floor as Haechan settles beside you on the couch, one arm thrown over the backrest, content. There’s something in the stillness that feels earned. 

You glance at him, your body relaxing instinctively in his presence. Even now, with fewer stages and more studio days, he’s still unmistakably him. His voice still sells out records, his face still flashes in LED lights on billboards from time to time. Fans still recognize him in grocery stores, still send letters with inked hearts in the margins. But here, like this, barefoot with his daughter’s preschool painting in his lap, he’s just Haechan. Yours. 

And somehow, you’re not just the girl who loves music anymore, you’re in it. You belong to the music world just as much as he does, not as a spectator, but as a contributor. Your name rolls across credits on streaming platforms, buried between synth programmers and vocal producers. Your beats pulse through earbuds across continents, your songs make it into playlists people fall in love to. You’d once dreamed of this life from behind classroom desks and secondhand headphones, back when it felt impossibly far away. Now, it’s home.

Haechan turns to you, brushing his hand gently across your knee like he can read your thoughts. “Didn’t think I’d end up with the label’s most in-demand producer,” he says, voice soft with admiration. “Kind of a dream for me.” 

You smile, a little shy even after all these years. “Didn’t think I’d end up working for my husband.”

“Mmm,” he hums, leaning in with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Technically, I work for you. Have you seen the way everyone treats you in the studio now?” You laugh, shaking your head as he shifts to press a kiss to your cheek. “I’m serious,” he adds. “You walk in and it’s like ‘oh my god, it’s her.’ You earned that. Every bit of it.” You let the words settle in your chest, warm and solid. A breeze moves through the curtains, the night quiet and full. 

You’re searching for a charger in the drawer of the side table next to the couch when your fingers graze against paper, thin, crips, and familiar. You pull it out and smile as the memories rush forward. Plane tickets, the villa, that first real Friday. 

Haechan sees what you’re holding, and his expression shifts into something fond. “You kept those?”

“Of course I did,” you tell him, brushing your thumb over the dates. 

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes tracing the curve of the old boarding pass in your hand. “Best Friday of my life.” 

You glance over at him, then nod toward the hallway where your daughter’s bedroom door is cracked open, the glow of her night light spilling out. “Until the next one,” you murmur.

That night, the three of you end up in the same bed. It wasn’t planned, just one of those nights where the world outside felt far away. Your daughter lay between you, her fingers curled around the edge of your shirt, breathing steadily and even. Haechan reaches for your hand in the dark and squeezes it when he finds it. You squeeze back. And you know, just as you did back on that villa in the morning light, that this is the start of everything, all over again. 

Fridays are still yours. They always will be. 

Autoplay: If you liked this, you may also like Some Kind Of Wonderful - L.Mark

[astrologydray]

Ruler of the 4th through the houses

So when you follow the ruler of the 4th house through the chart, you’re unlocking how and where you seek to feel at home in this life — emotionally, spiritually, and even physically.

4th House Ruler in the 1st House

Home is where you are.

Your identity is deeply tied to your family, culture, or early environment. You carry “home” with you — emotionally expressive, protective, sometimes even parental toward others. You’re your own anchor. Strong sense of self rooted in emotional truth. Core need = To feel seen and safe in your own skin. “I am my own foundation.”

4th House Ruler in the 2nd House

Security = stability.

Your emotional well-being depends on feeling financially and physically secure. You may have grown up around themes of scarcity or materialism, or learned to build your own safety net. Loyal, grounded, caretaker energy. Core need: Tangible safety — a cozy space, resources, routine. “I build a home I can count on.”

4th House Ruler in the 3rd House

Home is in the mind.

Your early environment shaped your voice, thoughts, and communication style. Siblings or relatives may play a big role in your home life. Talking, writing, or learning = comfort zone. Able to articulate emotional depth and family stories. Core need: Mental stimulation, open communication “I feel at home when I can express myself freely.”

4th House Ruler in the 4th House

Ancestral echo.

This is a pure, potent placement — you’re deeply connected to your roots, your family line, or even past lives. Home and emotional life are central to your existence. You may return to childhood places or inherit family responsibilities. Psychic memory, deep emotional wisdom, nurturer soul. Core need: Emotional grounding and belonging. “I carry the heart of my lineage.”

4th House Ruler in the 5th House

Home is creative.

You find emotional security through play, self-expression, and joy. You may want to create your own family (biological or chosen) that feels full of love and passion. Your inner child is loud and wants to be seen. Playful parent energy, expressive nurturer. Core need: Fun, romance, a home filled with love and light. “I create a home that celebrates life.”

4th House Ruler in the 6th House

Home is functional.

You need structure and purpose to feel emotionally secure. You may have had to take on responsibility early in life. Work and wellness are connected to your emotional state. Healing comes through routine. Feeling emotionally drained by caregiving or “fixing”? Healing others through nurturing structure. Core need: Order, health, and acts of service. “I make my home a place of healing and order.”

4th House Ruler in the 7th House

Home is relational.

You seek emotional safety through connection and companionship. Your family life may have involved witnessing intense or imbalanced dynamics between caregivers. You recreate balance through partnerships. Prone to projecting family dynamics onto partners. Deeply relational, romantic, peace-seeking. Core need: Emotional intimacy, harmony, and shared life. “Home is found in love and mutual understanding.”

4th House Ruler in the 8th House

Home is transformative.

You may have experienced emotional or family upheaval — intensity, secrecy, or loss may be themes. You need deep emotional bonding and sacred space to feel truly safe. Could inherit land, trauma, or psychic gifts. Can have a fear of emotional vulnerability, control patterns. Soul healer, sacred space holder, generational breaker. Core need: Deep emotional honesty and transformation. “I transform pain into sanctuary.”

4th House Ruler in the 9th House

Home is the horizon.

You may feel most at home abroad, in other cultures, or in spiritual exploration. Your early home may have been restrictive, making you seek emotional freedom through growth, learning, and travel. Escaping emotional depth through philosophy or travel. Visionary nurturer, wise soul, curious seeker. Core need: Meaning, belief, and wide-open spaces. “I build a home in every country and every idea.”

4th House Ruler in the 10th House

Home is legacy.

You may have grown up with a focus on success, image, or duty. You feel safe when you’re achieving or building something lasting. There’s often a karmic connection between family and career. Neglecting personal needs for public image or work. Powerful provider, ancestral leader. Core need: Recognition, structure, and emotional purpose. “I build a home others can look up to.”

4th House Ruler in the 11th House

Home is community.

You feel emotionally safe in friendships, groups, or collective movements. You may create your own chosen family. Your childhood may have felt “different,” and now you build inclusive, visionary homes. Emotionally detached or idealizing community over self. Utopian nurturer, the one who makes others feel seen. Core need: Belonging within a larger whole. “I build homes that include everyone.”

4th House Ruler in the 12th House

Home is the soul.

Your emotional roots are deep, spiritual, and often hidden. There may be ancestral karma, isolation, or mystery around your early home. You need solitude, imagination, and inner peace to feel safe. Emotional avoidance, hidden grief, or self-isolation. Dream weaver, inner sanctuary, spiritual nurturer. Core need: Emotional retreat, spiritual connection. “I carry home within the quiet corners of my soul.”

[tetotrinsky2006]

val im grabbing you by the shoulders (nicely). this is my official statement that im enabling you so hard in reading sovstuck/making art for it. makes me so so happy keep up the good work always :)

OH FUCK HI I DIDNT EXPECT YOU TO BE IN MY INBOX. HELLO /POS

i read it earlier and OH MY GOD I AM HOOKED. I AM GOING MAD. I AM ALREADY HUNGRY FOR MORE >:o] i am so so happy i gave the middle finger 2 my anxiety and read what ive wanted to read for the past uh. i forgot (i was SO HYPED for the countdown you did tho lol)

fuck uhhh sorry if anythings worded shittily. i stimmed earlier and im just calming down

[xomakara]

All I Ever Wanted

SUMMARY | You get jealous that Johnny pays more attention to your children than you. PAIRINGS |  Johnny x Reader RATING |  Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked GENRE |  smut, pwp, fluff/comedy  CONTENT/WARNINGS | culte little monsters, profanity, flirting, teasing, unprotective sex, suggestive touches, breast/nipple play, dirty talk, kissing, skin marking, creampies, daddy kink, breeding/impregnation kink LENGTH |  4,832 words TAGLIST |  @lovetaroandtaemin @ourdawnishotterthanourday NETWORKS |  @k-vanity @ksmutsociety @cosyhomenet @keopihaus @winerys-collection @neocity-net AUTHOR’S NOTE |  First, dad!Johnny has been swimming in my mind. Second, this fic kinda loosely ties into Baby, Don't Stop lol. Third, I love you folks 💚💚

NCT Main Masterlist

You shouldn't be jealous of the boys perched on his lap. Of course he looks like he's enjoying himself, head thrown back laughing, smile bright and contagious, hands wrapped around the little bodies that clamber over his broad frame. They're looking at him in awe and amusement, tugging on his arms, touching his cheeks. He's great with children, they all say, a natural with them, a gift, and if there was such a thing as being perfect, he is.

"Mommy!" One of the boys in his lap notices you. You've just walked out the kitchen, placing down the tray of chocolate chip cookies on the dining table, while your husband and the twins smile brightly. The toddlers scamper off him to tackle you to the ground. You're a bit too exhausted and tipsy and worn-down for this, but you receive them nonetheless.

"They're so excited," your husband chuckles as he stands up, only to join you on the floor, and kisses you on the cheek.

You can't believe he's yours. From hooking up with each other back in college, to being apart for years and then reuniting again, he's made your life incredibly fulfilling, happy, and pleasant. You got married and he gave you the cutest kids. What did you do in your life to deserve such bliss?

He brushes some of your stray hair behind your ear, gaze unabashedly fond as he watches the twins babble in your ears, demanding your attention and affection. This time, he doesn't lean in and kisses you. He simply observes and is silent. But the love in his eyes is obvious. He looks like he's memorizing every detail, drinking you in, treasuring you in his mind. It makes your stomach flutter with butterflies.

"Mommy," one of them begins. "Are you tired, mommy?"

"Is that why you're sleeping on the floor, mommy?" the other questions, brown eyes worried and small fingers stroking the side of your face.

"Mommy's tired," the oldest nods solemnly.

"Yes, yes, my babies," you coo, pinching their adorable cheeks and rubbing their tiny noses. Their giggles ring beautifully throughout the room, a harmonious tune. Their smiles make it feel like a ray of sunshine has been painted across their faces. You cup their tiny jaws, fingers gentle on their skin, and gaze tender as you peer up at the people you cherish the most in this life, and the next. "I'm very, very tired. Help mommy get up?"

Kevin, the oldest twin, eagerly jumps up to assist you to your feet while James follows. You thank them and peck their foreheads. Your husband has stood up with his arms around his chest, watching the whole interaction silently, with a quirked eyebrow and a crooked grin.

"What is that face your making, John Suh?" You playfully tease him. "Why are you not helping?"

Johnny shrugs. "I'm not gonna waste any muscle strength when you have your two strong boys right here."

James huffs at the praise. "Strong just like daddy! And I am going to grow big and tall like daddy."

"Really now?" Your husband chuckles, turning to grab James, before lifting him up with both arms. The small child bursts into peals of laughter and clings to his father's muscular frame. "That'll take years and years, buddy!"

Kevin doesn't want to be left out, and tugs at his dad's pants for attention. So, with an effortless shift, Johnny secures Kevin with an arm too and spins them around. This causes the brothers' laughter to mingle. You beam up at them and go back to the kitchen to clean up the mess the twin made.

Kevin and James are Johnny's mini-mes, with his brown eyes, nose bridge, and dimples. Sometimes when you wake up or watch them sleep, it still feels surreal that they're yours. That he's all yours, his big, loving heart, his thick muscles, his kind smile.

All. Yours. Forever.

"Your cookies were amazing!" His compliment echoes from the other side of the kitchen.

You peek your head over the wall, catching him walking towards you with a grin. He's effortlessly holding both children with an arm wrapped around their small bodies, the boys' faces on either side of his broad, wide neck.

You can't help but be a tad bit jealous of the boys positioned so intimately against him, how they can smell the mixture of sweet cologne and musky deodorant wafting from his body. How close their lips and noses are, the beautiful sight of his warm brown eyes, and how safe they feel in his presence. Your eyes snap back up to his once you notice that his dark brows are raised in question, perhaps reading your mind. Or noticing the look on your face. You open your mouth to respond, when your twin sons beat you to it.

"They are amazing because mommy is amazing!"

"She's the best mommy ever!"

The boys go on, praising you over and over again. Their exuberant excitement brings a flush over your cheeks, but the flattery does not overwrite your thoughts, still fixated on your husband's biceps, the curve of his shoulders, the tight fit of his polo. Johnny lets his head hang as he listens to the boys and nods along, with the silliest grin. His large, large hands ruffle through Kevin and James' heads and tweak their sides, tickling their soft, squishy tummies. They shriek in laughter.

You bit your bottom lip, a tinge of jealousy building again. You shouldn't be jealous of your own children getting attention from their father. But the pining, hungry side of you aches and yearns to have the same love, to touch him, smell him.

It's silly really. You've married Johnny and you have his whole heart, more than you ever asked for and deserved. His hand is always around the small of your waist, an arm over your shoulders, a peck on your cheek and soft nape. Yet you still find yourself feeling the slightest bit of envy when your sons monopolize him in the morning, taking him away from you as he tries to tame their rowdiness, their neediness, and insatiable, chaotic energy, to which he manages perfectly, like how he manages you.

"All right, all right," Johnny cuts the boys off as he moves to let the children run away and into the living room, to chase after their new plastic firetruck and to play police man and robbers. "Go ahead and play, I have to talk to mommy now."

"Is that right?" You ask in a sing-song tone once Johnny closes the space between the two of you. It's hot inside the kitchen but you blame it on him and his gorgeousness and charming disposition. As always. He smirks down at you, one thick eyebrow cocked. He knows how he affects you. It's easy. He towers over you, looming over you, trapping you with his height and broadness. A thrill runs through your spine as his intense gaze roams down your body and fixates on the flowy skirt around your legs. He bites his lower lip in silent, admiring consideration. "You seem to enjoy the attention. Are you replacing me already?"

He's right in front of you now, leaning back against the counter, with his palms keeping him propped and on the opposite sides of your own hips. "Is my wife jealous of her own sons? Cute," he laughs.

"Johnny," you whine as he closes the space and presses his hard, big frame into your body. Your lips can nearly touch, his warmth envelops your figure, and the familiar scent of his body has never felt stronger. "Do I still have to beg for your attention?"

"You want daddy's attention instead now? You don't have to be jealous of your sons," his voice takes on a sultry, sensual tone. The kind he uses during sex. You gulp. When you peek into the living room, your twins are thoroughly focused on driving their miniature vehicles across the wooden floors. It's too early to tuck them in anyway. "Daddy will always make sure his baby is good and spoiled."

"You—what? Johnny, no, they could come back any second," you stifle a groan when his long fingers trail under the hem of your skirt and brushes over your bare thighs, caressing and massaging the soft flesh there. You've never felt so needy for your own husband, but Johnny is irresistibly attractive, and you can't stop yourself. Especially not when he's in this kind of mood. "We can't, Johnny. Wait, please?"

"The question is, can you wait? Can mommy be a good girl until daddy gets the twins ready to sleep?"

A shiver passes through you, leaving goosebumps down your bare arms, as the coarse tips of his fingertips travel higher under the layers of cloth and inching closer to the edge of your cotton panties. Heat radiates through you, and you try your best to hold your breath and refrain from moaning and letting out any sounds.

You don't trust yourself. Not even a little bit.

But God, he's a goddamn tease. The slightest and most feather-like touch has you gulping, pressing back into the marble counters, and wrapping a hand around his bulging bicep in an attempt to regain sanity. You're trying to be good. To stop him before it goes any further. Before your kids have the mental scar of their mom and dad being freaky right behind their backs and not caring. But you also want to be bad, too. Because it's Johnny and all his touches feel like fire, and all his movements feel like electricity.

And maybe his pupils are dilated too, like he wants this, just as bad and needy, and impatient, as much as you do. You love how much he loves you, adores you, cherishes and values and prioritizes and worships you.

Johnny licks his lower lip. "Be a good girl until Daddy is done tucking the little monsters in."

Your fingers twitch around his bicep as a soft sigh escapes through your lips. This man knows how to get what he wants, what makes you comply, the slightest change in tone. His hot palms find the curve of your ass, palming it in slow strokes that contrast how rapidly your chest rises and falls, your desire seeping through. His expression remains unfazed and focused. As if he's contemplating which toy to use on you to make you scream and scream. He wants to give you the greatest experience of your life.

"If," you hesitate. "If I'm bad, what is daddy gonna do to me?" You speak quietly so as to not let the two boys hear.

"That's for mommy to find out, isn't it?"

You both turn when you hear Kevin squeak from the living room, racing across to avoid James and the police car. James screams loudly and chases his older twin, mimicking a policeman's cry and saying lines like 'stop!', 'I'm gonna get you!' and 'trust me!'.

A soft laugh emits from you as Johnny separates his body from yours and glances at his sons playing together. You do the same. It warms your heart to see your sons running in circles with their toys, with the sunlight cascading against the windows and illuminating their small smiles and cheery disposition.

"Alright," Johnny calls, snapping both their heads up and towards their dad's large form in the doorway of the kitchen. "It's bath time for the both of you."

"Bath time?" the twins repeat.

"Bath time," Johnny confirms.

A huff escapes you as you begin to trail after your husband, ready to help with the task, when Johnny glances at you over his shoulder. The twins have already been scooped into his large hands, and James holds the police car under one arm while Kevin holds the firetruck.

"Nope, nope, no," your husband shakes his head. "I think this is a job for daddy alone."

"No mommy?" James inquires, surprised.

"Mommy needs a break," Johnny answers with a nod, shooting a mischievous smirk your way. "She's been up early watching you two monsters and cooking delicious treats."

He carries the children out and towards their shared bathroom, but not without them flashing adorable and mischievous smiles your way, wishing you a goodbye and telling you to get some rest, which you graciously accept and promise that you will.

So while the Suh household's patriarch deals with washing his energetic offspring and putting them into comfortable pajamas, you opt for a brief rest period as well. By the time you settle in bed with a book in your hands, there are feet dashing outside your bedroom door. Twin shrieks erupt throughout your home's halls, followed by a faint exasperated laugh coming from your husband.

Your husband finds you, drenched, a few minutes later, with water running down his arms and wet splotches scattered all across the fabric of his white t-shirt. He shakes his head, dripping the bathwater across your entire bedroom and onto your carpeted floor. "Monsters," he says with no real anger. Only exasperated fondness.

"Ahh, you poor thing," you tease him, biting your bottom lip when his shirt clings onto the grooves and curves of his firm, defined pecs, stomach, and biceps. "Just wait until we have more kids in the near future. You'll have an army of monsters."

He frowns at the reminder. "An army I must prepare for."

Laughter bubbles from you. "Yes, a fierce and unstoppable army," you gesture for him to come forward to your nestled form on the edge of the mattress and he immediately kneels down with his face before you. The kiss you give him is warm and tender, gentle. "Go and finish up, Mr Suh."

You watch the love of your life grin and obediently follow your instructions, disappearing out the hallway.

And it's right after tucking Kevin and James safely and soundly beneath their fluffy blankets that the house falls silent. Save for the lullaby streaming from the radio placed beside the boys' sleeping bodies, a peaceful atmosphere encases the household.

Johnny quietly strolls back to the master bedroom and peels his shirt away with one swift and easy tug, leaving only the lower half of him clothed in a pair of sweatpants. You watch as his muscles flex and ripple, eyes traveling the wide expanse of his strong back and powerful build. It makes you a tad bit giddy how you're married to this big guy, this strong man that knows how to work your body so, so, well.

Your husband shoots a cocky, knowing smirk as if he reads your dirty mind and thoughts. The familiar burn of desire floods your gut, spreading all over. "Admiring me from afar?" Johnny's large body stalks over to his side of the mattress, slipping underneath the comforters and joining you under the sheets.

"It's a beautiful view," you answer back, tossing your book to the nightstand and turning the lamps off. "Why wouldn't I want to admire my big husband?"

He pulls you into the nook of his strong arm. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Except in bed, am I wrong? Well, technically we're on it but—okay, shut up," you cover his smug smirk with your palms and shush his chuckle.

"So," his thumb rubs soothing, pleasant strokes into your exposed upper back. "The monsters are tucked in bed and mommy is awake," his eyes roam all over the exposed bits of your skin, biting his lips as his gaze fixates and stares intently, admiring every single flaw. "Does my lovely wife want her husband's attention now?"

"Hm, yes, she does," you let out as you pushed him gently back against the pillows, clambering over his lap to straddle him. You grasped the hem of your loose shirt, peeling it over your head and letting your perky breasts jiggle free. Johnny immediately brings his warm palms to massage the mounds gently and tenderly, reveling and awing at how his large hands swallow and devour the orbs. "She missed him and craved for him the entire day, wanted nothing else but to have her sexy husband's big fat cock filling her up."

"Lord, you're hornier than ever, baby."

"Shut up and give your needy wife everything."

He hums against your neck, pressing wet, searing kisses against your skin. "Your wish is my command," he murmurs low and breathless.

You clutch onto his muscled shoulder blades, his tight, hard biceps and back. Every single dip and ridge of his muscles. You whimpered helplessly against his neck, bucking up your hips desperately, unashamedly into his growing bulge.

"Eager, eager," he coos. "Shh, mommy, remember our babies next door. We're gonna need to be quiet." He covers your mouth and pins you underneath him. "Make sure they stay asleep."

The rest of your clothes are quickly shed and his sweatpants were removed. Johnny buries his nose and lips against the pulse beating wildly on your throat. His large, rough fingers rub quick circles, causing your back to arch into his deliciously chiseled chest, a soft whimper bubbling from your parted lips. His heavy body is so big compared to yours, wide and muscular and powerful.

And, God, do you love it.

"Baby, hurry up, please," you whisper urgently, silently begging for him. "Before the twins wake up or I actually start screaming."

His warm breath brushes across the side of your cheek when he laughs, voice dropping to a deeper, husky tone. "Yeah? Would you really like daddy to get a little rough, fill you up, fuck you all night, until you can't move the next day?"

"God, I fucking love you," you press a desperate, messy kiss across his lips, caressing your palm against his warm cheek and trailing over his dark, thick hair. "You know I'll take anything you give me."

His snorts against the shell of your ear. "God, I fucking love you too," he mouths against the column of your throat. He knows your body well, every sensitive spot, every place that gets a moan escaping through your teeth and lips. "Who would have thought that college fuck buddies turned into a couple and a couple of babies later?"

"Johnny," you giggle as he begins his torture down south of your figure. "We are not talking about our babies while I want your cock inside of me."

He huffs in amusement, lightly tickling your thighs and sides, as he settles comfortably between your legs. "Fuck me, my wife is bossy," he mutters, shaking his head with mock-exasperation. "It's hot though. Sexy."

"Your wife is only bossy because you tease the hell out of me—" You gasp softly into his palm when he starts to align his cock with your dripping hole and gradually sliding himself inside of you in an agonizingly slow pace. You buck up your hips, wanting him all at once.

Johnny hovers above you, pinning you to the mattress and trapping you with his heavy, wide frame, eyes heavy with lust and hunger, lips kissing all along the curve of your jaw. You swallow a whine from being filled to the brim, his thick, big, pulsating cock twitching inside of you.

"How does that feel, baby?" Johnny leans down and breathes. His broad, tattooed arm and wide chest swallow your petite frame with ease. "All stretched and full?"

"Feels amazing," you choked out. "So full and good."

His hips retreats back, then slowly presses forward again. Your toes curl and dig into the sheets, clinging on, relishing the beautiful sensations and feeling of your husband filling and taking you so, so good. Johnny buries his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling your comforting scent and kisses the hot skin as he speeds up his thrusts.

He shushes your soft, faint mewls, hand palming and gripping your full thigh, before rolling you over onto your side. His chest pressed flush into the curve of your back, his arms wrapped around you and one palm flattened against your throbbing chest. He sucks marks against your bare skin as he penetrates from behind, with every powerful shove of his hips causing your ass to bounce back into his groin.

"Are you going to keep those moans at bay, baby girl?" Johnny groans against your neck. "Remember our sons are fast asleep just beyond the hallway. We have to be extra quiet."

You nodded into the pillow, almost forgetting that your twins are still within the household and could wake up in the middle of the night because their mom and dad couldn't keep their hormones at bay. "I'm sorry," you whisper apologetically. "Feels too good."

"Shhh, don't apologize," he grunts with a dark chuckle. "Just remember that we have a couple of monsters sleeping down the hall. So..." Your husband grips the back of your knees and angles it up higher to his hips, giving himself better access and access for his thick cock to delve into the depths of your walls. "What do you think of starting an army? A legion of little monsters who will be exactly as crazy as their big brothers."

"Really?" you smile into the mattress. "Can we even handle a legion of these monsters?"

"God, we already do," Johnny snickers. His fingers trace and pinch the taut skin of your breast, skirting over your perky, aroused nubs. "How many would you like though? What's the size and scale of your family?"

"You ask like we're creating a business."

"Well, there's always my business and," his body is hot behind you and his groin and hips feel like a burning fire with every powerful, thrusts. "Business is getting real hot in here."

"Really, Johnny?" you let out a breathless laugh. "Only you can make jokes while having sex."

"But you still love my stupid, terrible jokes, don't you?" Johnny tugs you closer into his big body, rolling your nipples as you close your eyes to relish and enjoy the pleasurable feeling of his cock hitting all the sweet spots, one hand pinching the sensitive peak of your nipple and sending a thrill of arousal zipping through you. You bit into your lower lip, his hips jutting sharply forward and pounding and grinding you into the sheets and pillows. "So what do you think? Have I successfully convinced my lovely wife into expanding the little family?"

"Ah, Johnny," you exhaled and threw your head back against his chest. "Yes, yes, you win, you silly big bear. We can start creating that legion of little monsters!"

"Yes, my love," his smirk feels sinister and playful as he twists you around once more and traps you under his large frame again. He hooks your thigh up his arm and thrusts sharply and harder into you.

"How did I marry such a bad, bad, man?" you bury your face and flushed cheeks into the pillow. Your grip onto the blankets. The intensity increases tenfold and causes you to writhe and twitch and gasp underneath his incredible weight and body. "I'm so happy that we started fucking after class one day. If it weren't for that moment and that first round and—Johnny, please—we wouldn't have Kevin and James."

"My god, we did fucked each other good. That was the best decision you've ever made," Johnny growls against the shell of your ear. His teeth nip onto the fleshy lobe and causing a stuttered moan to rip through you. You hurriedly place your palm over your lips, attempting to stifle it, so your twin boys stay asleep. You don't want to disturb them from a peaceful slumber. "Can't wait to put a few more little brats inside of you. Take it real, real, deep, nice and slow, like that."

"Oh my god, John Suh, if you want a little army, let's work on that."

"You're a fucking naughty girl."

"So are you, Mr 'let's go raw'. So much for using protection."

"We wouldn't have those cute and adorable twins then," his warm, wet tongue skims across the column of your throat, hot breath fanning your ears. The air is thick and heavy, stifling and muggy as he rocks your body with strong and powerful thrusts. "Those beautiful mini mes are too cute to not want."

"There you go again," your legs cling tighter around his hips, allowing him to drive into your velvety walls. The sound of your bodies becoming one fill the room. Johnny muffles any and all noises with a bruising kiss and your head spins as the taste of his tongue assaults your senses, and his scent intoxicates you, dizzying, making your vision swim. "Big, bad man. Oh, shit," you're teetering closer to the edge. "Ah, Johnny, close, so fucking close."

He seals your lips with his and buries his entire length into the heat and tightness. You shiver against his lips, arching your spine as his mouth and tongue moves relentlessly against you, hungry and passionate.

"John," you gasped as he grunted softly against your mouth. His eyes were hazy and lustful, wild. He pumped into you a final, hard time before his release ripped through him, pumping rope after rope inside. His hand clutches your jaw as his thick, virile and potent seed fills your womb, some leaking out and mixing with your juices. The hot stickiness pools in your belly as your own climax follows and ripples through you and it's intense and blissful, it nearly brings tears to your eyes.

For a while, you and Johnny don't move a muscle and allow the remaining waves of euphoria to fade, breathing deeply in and out, sweat glimmering against the curve of his back and his smooth skin and his toned arms. His larger body curls protectively and tightly against yours, encasing you within his limbs and hugging you to his muscled, defined chest.

"Damn," your husband whispered against your shoulder, his warm lips grazing against your naked skin and pressing another kiss onto your hair. "The way we're going, we'll be breaking the world record."

"Mhm, please," you chuckled. "Kun still got us beat with triplets."

He shoves a stray pillow over his face, covering and hiding himself and his handsome face, and a boyish and innocent-like laugh escapes through his lips, soft and free. "We should have the guys watch the twins one day and create more and more kids. Let's aim for ten," Johnny murmurs huskily.

"Ten? You trying to kill me, Suh? We're already in our thirties," you mused, carding your fingers through his locks, loving how his big form melted into you.

"Still a youthful age to me. Still want to break records and defy expectations and raise some monsters," Johnny presses a lingering and gentle kiss onto the slope of your nose. "What do you say, pretty woman?"

"Okay," you agree. He smiles softly, lovingly, and it sends your heart fluttering rapidly against your rib cage and a light-hearted laughter from your lips. "Not sure if we'll have ten but—"

"Even if we managed to get a little princess that looks like you," your husband cut you off, smiling fondly and planting another sweet and innocent kiss against your cheek. "Or a few more monsters running around the house, I'll still be incredibly grateful."

"I love you so much, John Suh."

He held you closely to his chest and your warmth spread throughout his body, embracing you close and tighter, secure, secure and loving. You both had gone through rough patches with your relationship back during college and wondered if this beautiful and intimate bond would ever amount to something permanent. The universe had led you and Johnny to each other's arms, to your bedroom, and eventually you were blessed and gifted by two adorable babies, two bundles of joy. Now the idea of growing your family sounded like the greatest decision you'll ever make. You both have reached happiness in your lives together, and that's something worth working towards.

"I love you so much too, baby," Johnny kissed your forehead. He gazed longingly at you, loving, tender, a bright and vibrant smile tugging across his face. "Will you still be jealous of your children if they become an army of Suh men like myself?"

You bit your tongue and paused for a long, dramatic period, earning a little scoff and nudge of his nose against yours. "You'll still be mommy's number one," you whispered. "But if you can't keep mommy happy with her bed activities, we can negotiate something."

He gently rolls and brings you on top, his chest, broad and wide, flexing beautifully before your eyes. "Okay, Mrs Suh, let's negotiate and reach a conclusion that satisfies you."

"Really, Johnny, I was kidding."

"But I'm not kidding, baby," his big, large palm skates soothing strokes over the line and curve of your hip bones and thighs, his touch alone sets your nerve endings buzzing with adrenaline. "This husband is already looking for ways to satisfy his wife and is very much open for discussions."

[narcjsistx]

𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 | OS

shidou ryusei x fem reader ; words: 1.0k (1086)

coming from this event, fourth day, 21/12

✶ 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

plot: during the christmas period it was normal for the association to invite the players, and their girlfriends, to organized dinners. shidou loves to show up at these dinners with you, where everyone asks you how you can be together even though you are so different

Shidou Ryusei is a beast, both on and off the field: the boy's sparkling soul is recognized by everyone in the industry, and his own fanbase boasts of having as an idol someone who is extremely unpredictable, but who always manages to shine. The beast has someone who loves him and with whom he is extremely in love, and that person is you. If he is a beast, you are an angel

If he runs, you walk. If you talk, he screams. If he shoots deadly kicks into the opponent's net, you move with unthinkable delicacy. If he has to be the beast, you are his guardian angel

The diversity between you is probably the thing that makes your relationship work, which experiences a new chemical reaction every day. When the world came to discover you, it was shocked to see someone so different next to the zesty demon, and many had bet that you would not last long, if not a few months. Evidently they were all wrong, because by now you had been together for a few years. The secret dates at the beginning of the relationship had turned into official dinners that it was the industry itself that invited you to. The association loved to invite its players, and consequently their girlfriends, to extremely endless dinners, with many special dishes and nonstop alcohol until the next morning

Christmas dinner was one of those occasions. The white suit and black tie highlighted Shidou's figure, who was forced by you to wear something more elegant than usual. Your long red dress had been chosen a few hours earlier by your boyfriend, who had the honor of being able to choose from the proposals you had proposed to him. Having got out of the car, at least an hour late, the photographers had been waiting for the scandalous couple all evening

It had become a habit to have all eyes on you, and god, you loved it now: seeing people's fascinated looks had become a priceless prize. At first, when it happened, you prayed for it to end as soon as possible, but Shidou had quickly pointed out to you that they were beautiful looks, and not bad ones: as a couple you caused a scandal, but in a good way. The glances increased your love

"Shidou, Shidou, here!"

"Y/n, a closeup for the local press"

"Look here, both of you!"

You were objectively loved, you were iconic, everything about you and your diversity was iconic. The only envious glances are from the other girlfriends of the players on the team, who have never had the same success as you. Aside from the always iconic entrance, the dinners are actually quite boring and monotonous: there is always the same group of players who are really friends, those who join but don't understand much and those who would gladly go to their house and sink into their partners' bodies. Shidou always created a category of his own, even if sometimes he was part of the last one. A few years ago he was the one who almost got arrested because he was about to beat up a butler who had been a bit too cocky touching you; in the last one he had made everyone drunk because of a game played by all the dinner guests, including the managers. And you, always at his side, tried to mediate the behavior of your beloved cockroach

"I wonder how she survives"

"They probably don't really have that much harmony, they just work"

Often, beyond the thousand compliments, you also heard these words. They were words that actually slipped by you, that occupied your mind for no more than two minutes. They were simply things that you considered false, because hell, you couldn't tell everything that happens between you. It would be too long a story and you would even have to invent terms that are still unknown, because everything that has to do with your boyfriend is yet to be discovered

The others don't know how much Ryusei is a lovesick person, and that he isn't afraid to show it. The others don't know how obsessed he is with your love, how dependent he is on it. The others don't know that for him, you seem to be his first in everything, even though he has an experience behind him that could be talked about for a whole week without getting bored. Others don't know how much he really cares about you, in a way that in the early days of the relationship seemed like who knows how many treatments before ghosting, but that is now normal and that you deeply appreciate with all your heart

Others don't know how much the situation changes when you are within the walls of your home, how he becomes the angel and you the beast of the situation: how you affectionately attack him every time he comes home or when he too has bad moments, since even though he is a demon, he remains a human, someone in reality much deeper than others might think

Others can seriously think what they want, you're fine as long as you know the truth. This is yet another trait that Ryusei has changed in you, he who has always been indifferent has taught you that you should care little about other opinions, the superfluous ones, because they are often made only out of malice. This was yet another difference, before the change

Maybe you're not really that different, or rather, you're convinced that you're not as different as everyone thinks: you balance yourselves in a way that you believe only the two of you can do for each other, alternating between heaven and hell

"Fuck everyone, as long as I have the chance to be with you I don't care about the differences. Love me as you think is best, I'll adapt to your way. We do what we think is best for each other, outside opinion is just a way to make us famous, right? If they hated us they wouldn't talk about us so much, but they obviously love us for being so interested"

There is no angel without black wings; there is no beast without a heart. There is no Y/n without Shidou Ryusei; there is no Shidou Ryusei without Y/n. As long as you had the chance to be close, to love each other, to kiss each other, you would never have cared about the differences that actually tied you together

TAG: @natmagaesp ; @kittenish0 ; @x3nafix

[rosemarymoodboards]

Why Tucker and Sam Would’ve Made a Better Couple Not Only For Themselves But Also For Danny, and For the Entire Story

Let’s be honest: the show never really gave us space to consider Tucker and Sam as a romantic possibility. But once you actually slow down and look at the dynamics between them, it becomes really clear that not only would they have made a strong, balanced couple. They also would’ve made the story so much better.

This isn’t about forcing ships. It’s about seeing missed opportunities for character growth, emotional complexity, and real storytelling potential.

Tucker and Sam Balanced Each Other Naturally

Sam is driven, intense, and grounded in principle.

Tucker is lighthearted, confident, and emotionally intuitive.

Where Sam sees systems to challenge, Tucker sees ways to adapt and move through them.

They’re opposites not in conflict, but in harmony.

She’s earth. He’s tech. She’s activism. He’s innovation.

She can be rigid. He can be avoidant. But together? They’d challenge each other in ways that feel safe, not performative.

They Already Had Chemistry The Writing Just Didn’t Frame It That Way

In the episode 'Mystery Meat' , they have a literal ideological debate about meat vs. vegetarianism. It’s petty and hilarious, and it shows how naturally dynamic their relationship already was.

In the episode 'Attack of The Killer Garage Sale' we find out Sam is secretly rich in a scene with Tucker, not Danny.

In episode '13' Tucker tries to reinvent himself and lose his identity. It’s Sam who calls him out and grounds him again.

They had friction. Dialogue. Challenge. And trust.

The story just never let those moments be romantic, but that doesn't mean they weren’t meaningful.

Tucker Deserved Emotional Depth, And Sam Deserved to Be Seen

Tucker was constantly pushed into the “comic relief” zone.

He was smart, confident, emotionally stable, and yet, he was never allowed to lead, to grow, or to be chosen. He was there to support.

Sam, on the other hand, was flattened into “the edgy girl who secretly likes the hero.”

Instead of letting her be complex, the show locked her into a trope. Danny didn’t really see her. He just ended up with her.

Why Sam and Tucker? They saw each other.

He never tried to fix her. She never tried to shrink him. They just existed side by side, exactly the kind of foundation that makes a good romance real.

Danny Would Have Benefited From That Pairing, Too

If Sam and Tucker had a slow burn romantic arc, Danny would’ve had to do the one thing he never truly did in the show:

Look at himself.

It would’ve forced Danny to grow outside of his emotional safety net. He wouldn’t be the center of their triangle he’d be part of a trio where everyone had their own life, their own growth, and their own relationships.

Tucker x Sam would’ve freed Danny up to explore other dynamics like Valerie. Or himself. Or, better yet, his own trauma, his double life, and what it means to actually be seen when you’re split between two worlds.

It Would’ve Opened the Door to So Many B-Plots

Imagine:

-Sam and Tucker building something on their own while Danny’s off ghost fighting

-Tucker navigating the social ladder while Sam questions why he cares at all

-Sam challenging Tucker’s materialism, Tucker challenging Sam’s judgmental streak

-Actual romantic tension in the group that doesn’t rely on Danny being the center of it

Their relationship could’ve deepened the world, added real stakes, and given us a second love story that wasn’t about fantasy but about balance.

Tucker and Sam Were Already the Most Emotionally Mature Characters Compared to the Rest of Their Peers

Tucker knew who he was. Sam knew what she stood for.

They weren’t chasing popularity or validation they were already living in their truth.

That’s why their love wouldn’t have been loud or dramatic.

It would’ve been steady. Soul rooted. Safe.

The kind of love story that doesn’t scream but lasts.

Conclusion

Sam and Tucker didn’t need to “complete” each other.

They didn’t need to “fix” each other.

They just needed space to be seen as more than background characters orbiting Danny’s fantasy arc.

Their relationship wouldn’t have just been good for them it would’ve been good for the entire story.

Because love that’s built on balance, challenge, and mutual recognition?

That’s the love story we were never given but absolutely deserved!

[cozmowrites]

Bakugou Oneshots

The list will update as more publish! Majority of these were requests! You can request through here: requests ツ

Halloween (2024)

Post-Halloween (2024)

Heavenly Sparks (angel reader, demon bakugou)

Rody's Little Sister (pro hero reader/bakugou)

Frost's Only Believer (jack frost bakugou)

Trapped: Subnautica (subnautica au)

Grief

again, (my head is empty)

howling (noah kahan)

Trapped: Among Us (among us au)

The Fire Burns Out (cheater bakugou)

Hidden Among the Shadows (arranged marriage au) (full fic: ao3 , wattpad)

Against the End (good omens au)

Silent Communications (mute reader)

Trapped: Minecraft (1/6) (minecraft au)

Trapped: Below Zero (Subnautica) (subnautica au / pt 2)

Christmas Eve (2024): Sparks

Christmas With the Class (2024)

Flowers Over Words (flower shop reader)

The Night We Met (lord huron)

The Secret World of You (secret world of arietty au)

about you (The 1975)

jealousy jealousy (olivia rodrigo)

run (hozier)

sink (noah kahan)

Paul Revere (noah kahan)

Squid Game (squid game au)

Spider-Dyna (spiderman au)

New Year's (2024)

iris (the goo goo dolls)

Seven Minutes in Heaven? (2020 flashback)

BKDK x You

KamiBaku x You

KRBK x You

Operation Pet Name: Pup

Would You Fall in Love with Me? (epic the musical)

Sleep Deprived

Kacchako x You

It'll Pass

NFWMB (hozier)

Francesca (hozier)

TDBK x You

KRBK x You (pt 2 / final)

Come Over (noah kahan)

First Time (hozier)

If I Killed Someone For You (villain reader, hero bkg , alec benjamin)

Valentine's Day (2025)

Trapped: Minecraft (2/6) (minecraft au)

A Night Between Worlds (todoroki sibling! reader, halloween  - noah kahan)

blue pigz (king shelter)

Trapped: Minecraft (3/6) (minecraft au)

Trapped: Minecraft (4/6) (minecraft au)

Trapped: Minecraft (5/6) (minecraft au)

Trapped: Minecraft (6/6) (minecraft au)

the blonde (tv girl)

forever (noah kahan)

inizio (royal au)

The Net Between Us (haikyuu au)

Falling (BKDK x You) (vigilante deku x bakugou/you)

Unlikely Harmony (singer bakugou)

Good Time (owl city and carly rae jepsen)

White Day (2025)

wilted petals

regretful (knight bakugou, princess reader)

How to Train your Dragon (httyd au - astrid as bakugou)

Beach Vibes and Sabrina

Birthday Boy (2025 - Bakugou Birthday Angst)

something unsaid (Midoriya! reader x Bakugou)

first time (pt 2 / final) (hozier)

Quiet Mornings and Soft Thunder (bkdk x you) [Bakugou / Midoriya]

🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞MDNI - 18+ - NSFW ONLY🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

Kitchen Table 🔞

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters with Random Hobbies

This is months later, but at the time I'm writing this, there's a big trend on tumblr of people sending around Picker Wheel polls--is that still going on?

Anyway, I saw this post with a Hobby Picker Wheel, and I used it to assign random Cosmere characters random hobbies! Let's see how it goes!

1. Lezian tries...weaving

Lezian: I HATE THIS Lezian: I HATE SITTING STILL AND I HATE YARN AND I HATE THAT THIS STUPID LOOM IS SOMEHOW DEFEATING ME Lezian: DIE LOOM, DIE!!!!! Raboniel: That's the fifth loom he's broken. Leshwi: I don't think fiber crafts are for him.

2. Charlie tries...reading

Charlie: Wow, this is so relaxing! Charlie: In a book, the evil sorceress can't actually hurt me! Charlie: ... Charlie: It is maybe a little boring, though.

3. Demoux tries...model airplanes

Demoux: It's so weird. Demoux: I don't even know what an "airplane" is. Demoux: And yet...I am SO invested in getting this right. Galladon: Demoux, please, the Seventeenth Shard has left you like a hundred messages. Demoux: I'm BUSY.

4. Lightsong tries...pickleball

Lightsong: So...is the ball the pickle? Is the net the pickle? Is the racket the pickle? Lightsong: ...Am I the pickle? Llarimar: Your Grace, please, your opponent is weeping. Lightsong: Not my fault I'm freakishly good at all sports.

5. Lirin tries...horseback riding

Lirin: I just don't see the point, really. Lirin: I have legs for walking. Lirin: Riding may be faster, but it's also higher. And angrier. Kaladin: I...agree with my father about something? Lirin: You don't have to sound that surprised!

6. Dilaf ties...cycling

Dliaf: HAHAHAHAHAHA Dilaf: WITH THIS DEVICE I SHALL SPREAD THE WORD OF SHU-DERETH FAR AND WIDE Dilaf: WHILE MOWING DOWN HEATHENS WITH MY METAL HORSE Dliaf: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH Hrathen: You're not built for hobbies.

7. Bleeder tries...crossword puzzles

Bleeder: This...this is impossible! Harmony: You can't put down "murder" as the answer to every clue. Bleeder: STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO DO

8. Elend tries...swimming

Vin: 👀 👀 👀 Elend: Swimsuits sure are...revealing. Elend: Are we SURE this is the right size? Vin: WE SURE ARE

9. Vin tries...archery

Vin: It's fine, I guess. Vin: Kinda a slow way to bring death to your enemies, though. Vin: One at a time? Really? Archery range attendant: Please ma'am you are scaring the children.

10. Painter tries...single-player video games

Painter: [With tears in his eyes] Painter: Finally...the lonely hero all in black...saving the world....is me. Yumi: Is your Warrior of Light riding a...really fat chicken? Painter: ITS NAME IS NIGHT WALKER

[yuta-nakamots]

Dive Into You - L.Haechan (Teaser)

Pairing - Boyfriend!Haechan x University!AFAB Reader

Genre(s) - Fluff, University!AU (Smut to be included in the full fic)

Warning(s) - none for this teaser but there will be lots for the smut in the full fic lol

Summary - After a whirlwind semester, Haechan sweeps you away on a surprise getaway after finals are over. Between salty kisses and soft-spoken promises, you both begin to realize that Fridays mark more than just the end of the week, they mark the beginning of something new. 

Teaser Word Count - 1.1k

Author’s Note - Happy early birthday to Haechan! 

Taglist - @k-vanity @cosyhomenet @neocity-net @k-films @dinonuguaegi @tinyzen @fancypeacepersona (leave a comment or send an ask to join the taglist!)

Written for the Resonance Beach Collab originally hosted by @loeycity. Part of the K-Films Summer Event 2025 hosted by @k-films. Also part of my NCT Dream: Seven Days Collection. 

Now playing: Dive Into You - NCT Dream, Bahama - aespa

You first met Haechan in a music theory class halfway through the semester. You were taking it for your degree, as was he, though he hadn’t managed to show up to a class thus far because of his busy idol career. On his day off, he finally attended class for the first time, slipping into the back row of the lecture hall ten minutes late, wearing sunglasses indoors and a hoodie too big for the late-spring weather. Yet no one batted an eye. That’s the thing about university, you could be a celebrity or a sleep-deprived caffeine gremlin and still get away with everything as long as you looked miserable enough. 

He sat beside you, even though the rest of the row was empty. “Your notes looked better than mine,” he remarked. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you even enrolled in this class?”

He grinned, teeth flashing beneath the shadow of his hood. “Technically.”

“Technically,” you repeated, unimpressed, as you angled your notebook away from him. 

“Come on,” he whined, nudging your elbow with his. “The midterm is next week, I haven’t studied, and my manager thinks I’m watching video lectures at home right now. Help a guy out?”

You sighed, already sliding your notes a little closer. “If I get caught helping you cheat, you better buy me lunch.”

“Deal,” he agreed, a little too quickly. “And maybe a song.” 

“A song?” You questioned.

“You’ll see.”

Your friendship with Haechan started just like that. A few shared notes, a couple late-night study sessions in the campus café when he had time off in his schedule. He hummed next to you while you worked on your laptop, occasionally changing songs halfway through the phrase just to annoy you. You quickly learned that when he wasn’t on stage, he was a menace with too many inside jokes, an alarming stash of memes, and a knack for making your cheeks hurt from laughing. 

The first time you let him into your apartment, he tripped over cables hooked up to music equipment. He made it up to you by immediately assisting in layering harmonies onto the half-finished chorus of a demo track you made. “This would sound so good with a weird falsetto ghost vocal,” he commented, already recording himself singing off your cheap microphone like it was a stadium stage. 

Somehow, you didn’t mind because somehow, his chaos just fit with yours. You made music together, half as a joke, half because it felt right. You teased him about his idol life, and he teased you about your messy desktop and how seriously you took your plugins. He never stopped talking, but you never wanted him to. Somewhere between 3AM laughter, breathless studio nights, and his fingers brushing yours over a keyboard, you stopped writing love songs about people who didn’t exist. 

One night, when your midterm projects were due and sleep felt like a forgotten luxury, he popped by your apartment with fast food and insisted on ‘helping’ you mix your final track. The ‘help’ amounted to him curling up on a chair next to you with a can of soda and randomly hitting keys on your MIDI keyboard while proclaiming it to be ‘art’. 

You swatted his hand away from your laptop for what had to be the tenth time. “You’re going to make me fail.” 

“I’m inspiring you,” he countered, leaning over your shoulder to peer at your project window. “See, this part? Needs more chaos.” 

“You are chaos.”

He laughed, dropping his chin to your shoulder. “I’m glad you finally noticed.”

You turned to look at him, a comeback ready, but the look on his face made the words freeze in your throat. You didn’t realize until that moment just how badly you wanted to kiss him, his lips looking so full and soft mere inches from you. Your breath caugh,t and Haechan heard, but didn’t move away. 

“If you keep looking at me like that,” he said quietly, the usual teasing in his voice softened by something more sincere, “I’m going to think you like me.”

Your eyes flickered to his. “What if I do?”

The words hung there, suspended in the space between your breath and his. You weren’t sure who leaned in first, but suddenly the distance didn’t exist. His lips met yours in a kiss that tasted like soda and secrets you didn’t want to keep anymore. It was gentle, slow, and careful, like neither of you wanted to break whatever this was turning into. 

When Haechan pulled away, his eyes searched yours. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, his usual bravado stripped away. 

You swallowed, heart thudding in your chest, and your brain fighting with every reason why this shouldn’t have happened. “Haechan,” you started hesitantly. “You’re…you. And I’m just me. This isn’t right.”

He tilted his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “Do you think I don’t know that?” You blinked. “I’ve thought about this, all the reasons it could go wrong. But then I think about how you save lecture notes for me, how you roll your eyes at me, but still tolerate me when I make a bad joke. I think about how I’ve never heard music the same since I first met you.” You looked down at your hands, the weight of reality pressing against the lightness you felt just seconds ago. “Hey.” He reached for your hand. “I can’t promise it’ll be perfect, but I can promise I’ll show up. For you, for this, for us.” 

Your eyes meet his again. There was no cockiness there, just quiet determination and something you realized had been growing behind all his jokes and late-night harmonies. It was real, terrifying, beautiful affection. You nodded slowly, lips drawing up into a small smile. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He echoed, eyes widening. 

“But if I end up in a dating scandal, you better write me a hit breakup song.”

He laughed, his fingers lacing through yours. “Deal. But I’m aiming for a love song first.” And somehow, it felt like the beginning of one. 

Your relationship didn’t erupt like the drop of a chorus, it eased in like a warm synth line, subtle but impossible to ignore. Somewhere in the haze of long nights and low battery percentages, between split headphones and shared playlists, Haechan became the rhythm you moved to without even realizing it.

[alpaca-clouds]

You Cannot Create A Solarpunk Future Under Capitalism

I am feeling like a broken record, but I just need to make this clear once more: No, Solarpunk in any form is not possible under capitalism. If you think it is, you either fail to understand Solarpunk, or you don't get what capitalism even means.

Technically I wrote about this already almost exactly a year ago. Let me reiterate it again, though: Solarpunk at its core is build around a couple of ideas. Those are:

Living in relative harmony with our environment, rather than destroying it. (Which includes using renewable energies.)

Decolonialism.

Social justice and the same rights, chances and possibilities for all people.

Neither of those three points is archievable under capitalism, as the end goals of capitalism are opposed to each of them.

Let me go through each of them.

Environmental Sustainability is not archievable under capitalism.

This is the point people tend to argue about the most. Because they will go: "But if the renewable energy sources are cheaper than fossil fuels, the capitalist will see more possibilities to make money with it." Well, do I have news for you: A variety of renewable sources, such as solar and wind power, are already a lot cheaper than fossil fuels and yet somehow the capitalist argue against using them. Care to explain that? No? Well, I'll do it for you. (Technically already did in that blog last year.)

See, when someone's net worth is listed somewhere, most of them actually do not have billions of dollars on their bank accounts. And no, they also do not swim in gold coins. Instead their net worth comes from calculating how much money they would be able to make if they sold all thier assets. A lot of those assets are shares in companies they have, as well as stuff like their fancy houses, fancy cars, fancy private jets and fancy yachts. Most billionaires have not more than a couple tens million dollars in liquid money, meaning money they can just spend. If they wanna buy something that is more expensive, they will usually go to a bank, say: "Look at all the stuff I have. I wanna buy myself more stuff. Gimme money?" And the bank will go: "Of course, Sir Billionaire, here you go. Have a nice 10 billion dollars."

And this is where the issue arrises: Most of the billionaires who are investing in the energy market, have already invested billions in fossil fuels. Be it by owning shares of fossil fuel companies, or by owning mines, oil rigs, power plants and the like. And this puts them into a silly little position: Even if they wanted to make more money through renewables, they cannot without harming themselves. Because in the moment that renewables become even more viable than they already are, fossil fuels lose their viabilities - and hence all the assets they hold in fossil fuels lose their value in an instant. The billionairs know that. The banks know it, too. Which is why banks do not want to give the fossil fuel billionaires money for that, even if they ask.

And that is only on the energy-generating side of it. If you go into the other stuff that harms our environment... Simply put: Public transport will never make as much money, as selling everyone their own car. And plastics are just so much cheaper than any alternatives. And the companies need fast fashion, because they won't make as much money, if folks only go buying new clothes every ten years.

Capitalism is build on the exploitation of the environment.

You cannot archieve decolonialization under capitalism.

Let's talk about the call to decolonize next. This is even easier explained: Capitalism is build on colonialism. And contrary to what you might have been told in school, colonialism has never ended. Most indigenous folks never got their ancestral land back - or have to fight to remain on it to this day. The most notable examples you know off might be indigenous people on their land (at times the land they originally had been forced onto after their ancestral land had been stolen from them) fighting pipelines that the capitalists want to put onto that land. That is colonialism.

In fact a lot of the raw material we use to power capitalism is produced on stolen land or is moved across stolen land to be financially viable. Be it oil springs, that can be found there. Or be it mines. That is both mines that produce coal, but also mines that are used to produce lithium and other materials used in batteries of electric cars. These raw materials should technically belong to the indigenous people from whose land those materials are sourced. And we do know for a fact that some of them will prefer to leave those materials in the ground. Maybe because of the harm to the environment that mining for them creates. Maybe because the land is sacred to them. Maybe because some of them just do not care about cheap electric cars.

It is more than that, of course. Because colonialism also allows for slave labor. And yes, I mean slave labor. Like classical slave labor where people are pressganged into laboring in those mines, or in other factories, where they are not paid at all - or are paid in breadcrums. The reason that the global south is so abhorently poor, even though most of the raw materials powering our world are found there, is, that the people in the global south are exploited, while the land is often owned by people from the global north, who either got it through colonialism - or by buying it from someone who got it through colonialism.

And once again: The profit motive of capitalism is directly opposed to decolonizing - and because of that it won't happen. Capitalism is built on colonial exploitation.

You cannot archive social justice under capitalism.

Capitalism as a system was invented for one reason and one reason alone: To allow former nobility, who were close to lose their power and influence in a Europe of anti-royal revolutions, to hold onto the power and influence and veil it underneath the idea of meritocracy. Basically saying: "Everyone gets what they deserve based on the work they got in." Obviosly they got the most, because they owned the land that everyone was working and living on. And then they did their best to brainwash everyone into believing this - at which they actually succeeded.

Here is the thing: Capitalism needs an underclass to exploit. Sure, a good chunk of that exploitation will happen in other countries, where the poor white middleclass folks do not need to see them toil, but some of that exploitation simply cannot be done in those other countries. At times because the work physically needs to happen in the western nations - stuff like road contruction, general contruction work, cleaning and such are an example of this. And at times because some things might be time critical, cannot be transported that far and stuff like that - like farm work in some cases, or also all the Amazon warehouse stuff. Oh, and all those fastfood jobs belong into this area. Stuff that is paid minimum wage and exploited to no end.

And then there is of course prison labor in the US, which once again is just slavery.

And all of that does not even go into the care and nursing work that is either underpaid by a ton when it is happening on the open market (like in hospitals, schools, kindergardens and other care facilities) - or is happening completely for free. Mosten done by women, who will care for both children, as well as elders and disabled family members for free.

The true endgoal of capitalism is to turn the labor of the lower classes into money and value for the upper class to hoard like bloody dragons. As such capitalism will never be compatible with any sort of equal rights and equal chances.

Those three aspects are truths that just cannot be changed. Capitalism will never be able to create any sort of justice, equal rights, or sustainability. It is not in the interest of capitalism to do so, either.

[zweigsangel]

hockeyplayer!chris headcanons!

warnings: fluff, suggestive content, mentions of sex, pet names.

hockeyplayer!chris who has this way of calling you angel that makes your heart flutter every time. he has other names for you too—sweetheart, baby, darling—but angel is the one that slips from his lips every time, soft and affectionate. "why do you always call me that?" you asked him one day, with a light giggle. "because that's what you are.” he murmured, “an angel."

hockeyplayer!chris who dedicates every goal to you. as soon as the puck hits the back of the net, he turns in the midst of the crowded stands, searching for your eyes in the sea of faces. the moment he finds you, he sends a kiss your way, his fingers lightly touching his lips before pointing directly at you. it's a ritual, as if to say, this is for you, his biggest supporter, his good luck charm.

hockeyplayer!chris who gets jealous the moment any of his teammates start talking about you. even if they’re just complimenting you or sharing a harmless joke, there’s a flicker of possessiveness in his eyes. he can’t help but step in. with a slight smirk, he’d say something like, “careful, that’s my girl you’re talking about.” he has to remind everyone that you’re his. it’s not that he doesn’t trust you—he just can’t help the way his heart clenches at the thought of anyone else admiring you the way he does.

hockeyplayer!chris who lets his frustration spill over onto you when he loses a game. he barely says a word before he’s on you, his anger spilling over into rough touches. he kisses you with a kind of desperation, his need to assert control over something, anything, overpowering his usual tenderness. his thrusts into you are frantic, almost punishing, as he pours all that frustration into you. but afterward, when he’s left staring at the marks on your skin—marks he put there—something shifts in him. guilt and tenderness wash over him as he pulls you close, his fingers tracing the outlines of the bruises. he presses soft kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, wherever he sees the evidence of his roughness. “i’m sorry,” he whispers. he holds you close, his arms wrapped around. “didn’t mean to... y’know i love you, right?” he murmurs between kisses, his touch now gentle, almost reverent, as he tries to make up for the way he lost control.

hockeyplayer!chris who could watch you dance for hours. there’s something mesmerizing about the way you move, where every pirouette and graceful step unfolds like a story just for him. the rhythm of the music seems to pulse in perfect harmony with your movements, and he finds himself lost in the elegance and fluidity of your performances. sometimes, when you’re both lying in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, he’ll turn to you with a playful smile and say, “dance a little for me, angel. c’mon.”

hockeyplayer!chris who gets insanely hard whenever he sees you dressed in your dance attire. there’s something about the sight of you in those elegant, form-fitting clothes—perhaps a leotard or a flowing skirt—that drives him wild. the way the fabric hugs your curves, the grace with which you move. he’ll look at you with a mix of admiration and hunger, and it’s clear he’s imagining what it would be like to pull those clothes off you, piece by piece.

hockeyplayer!chris who’s so devoted to you that he’s willing to skip a game if he knows you won’t be there. if you’re feeling unwell, he’ll cancel stay by your side, even if you protest, insisting that he shouldn’t miss a match for your sake. “no, no, no,” he’ll say with determination, “my girl is more important.” on the other hand, if you have something else to do, he’ll be relentless in his efforts to persuade you to come to his game instead. “c’mon, you have to see me play,” and in the end, he succeeds in getting you to rearrange your plans. how could you say no to him?

hockeyplayer!chris who’s gentle and tender with you in bed. when he slids in and out your pussy, his movements are soft and deliberate, mindful of your pleasure, even if soon enough his pace quickens. your foreheads press together, damp with sweat, as he tries to kiss your open lips, catching every soft, breathy moan you make—sounds he wishes he could listen to forever.

hockeyplayer!chris who loves to spoil you. if he notices you admiring a necklace in a store, he’ll make sure you have it. see you with a bouquet of flowers? he’ll buy them for you without a second thought. if you mention a book you’ve wanted to read, he’ll track it down and surprise you with it. if you’re craving a particular dessert, he’ll find a way to get it for you, no matter how far he has to go. when a new restaurant opens up and you mention wanting to try it, he’ll take you there. and he doesn’t bat an eye if you choose the most expensive items on the menu. for him, making you feel cherished and special is a joy, he wants to show you how much you mean to him.

hockeyplayer!chris who has become such a frequent presence in your life that your father can barely keep up. during one of your visits, your father, leaning against the kitchen counter with a wry smile, might remark, “i see you at every practice, and now you’re even at my house? what’s next, are you planning to move in?” he jokes. but he’s genuinely pleased to see his daughter so happy. "if you do anything to upset her, I’ll kick you off the team," he warned the first time he found out you two were together.

hockeyplayer!chris who feels extremely lucky to have you in his life. during quiet moments together, he’ll gaze at you with a look of pure admiration and say, “you’re so perfect, god.” he’s not shy about expressing his feelings, often exclaiming, “i’m the luckiest guy in the fucking world,” as if he’s continually in awe of your presence and the joy you bring into his life. “you’re mine,” he’ll say, “mine, mine, mine.” and these expressions are more than just words—they’re a reflection of his genuine feelings for you. and he knows you feel it, too.