#i know where i can get new ones from... and they have cool variety and they arent a big corporation so all great

[seariii]

Hm this outfit would look cooler with one of those fishnets-long sleeve-shirt thingies, plus black boots...

[maxwellatoms]

In one of your last answers, you said “series reboots are usually pretty gross and sad”, and I was wondering if you could expand on that? Assuming “reboot” covers any kind of continuation of a currently cancelled or finished show (and maybe that’s the wrong assumption!), from the outside looking in it feels like a pretty mixed bag. On one hand, if I love XYZ Show, it’s cool that I get more stories with these characters and another chance to support XYZ Show and its creators. On the other, it definitely feels like a lot of ideas can only get funding if they’re tied to something already, meaning creatives are having to now tie whatever cool idea they have to some reboot/relaunch/retread, which can feel pretty disheartening if you don’t want to do a reboot/relaunch/retread. Is that a similar feeling from your side of the industry?

Thank you so much for all your answers and insight!

Usually reboots and spin-offs are just cash grabs. It happens a lot in animation. In fact, I would argue that the entire industry is just one big cash grab now. In the 80s, everyone complained that cartoons were just half-hour commercials for toys. And they were right. And we're right back there, but now that you can't legally push toys all day, it's just general "IP". Mugs, posters, more spinoffs, whatever.

I was offered three show running gigs over the pandemic. All reboots that I would consider unwise to pursue because they were "of a different time" and didn't (in my opinion) have anything more to say. Two of them were properties created by notorious sex pests, so there's also that. The animation industry loves to prop up its sex pests.

I turned all of them down, partially because I didn't respect the original creators but also because none of them had anything going for them except just being "more of the same".

I don't think any of those projects survived the intervening years, so in retrospect I maybe should've taken the job. I'd probably feel a bit gross, but at least I'd have floors in my house.

The entertainment industry is in a bad spot. The whole thing. I've had I don't know how many pitch meetings in the last few years, and they all start the same way:

"Hey! Before we start, we just want to let you know that we're not actively producing anything right now. We think maybe soon, but we won't be picking anything up today..."

And then later:

"The little we are doing is IP, so if you have a new take on our IP or a new IP you're connected to that you can bring in, that'd be great."

I always wanted to make original stuff. There came a time when I'd had my fill of Billy & Mandy and wanted to do something else new and original. That never manifested, and I was constantly being offered IP to produce. I turned too many of those down, maybe, before deciding that it was probably better that I run the IPs that mean something to me rather than having some hack do it.

But now those jobs have all gone to celebrities and fallen live-action writers, who are also slowly being eaten by the system. WB was hot for Scooby stuff a few years back, so I pitched some ideas. A few of them were turned down for being "off-brand" in a variety of ways. WB has now made (I think) all of those off-brand shows (or something close) with celebrity show runners.

I was going through a whole Midlife Impostor Syndrome thing recently where I was wondering if maybe I don't just suck. Like, it's weird that for a couple of decades I'd have people calling me trying to get me to run shows, and now nobody will call me back about the possibility of a design job.

Talking to some friends and realizing that they were in a similar situation helped me feel like I wasn't alone. That was nice. Talking to some of the most talented colleagues in my industry made me made me realize that those people weren't getting jobs either. That was unnerving. Talking to complete strangers in other parts of the entertainment industry now has me thinking that the whole house of cards is coming down. That's real concerning, yo.

It's hard not to think it's purposeful, when deranged billionaires own the entirety of our media and want to shape a society where they can't be criticized. We're letting wealthy tech bros firebomb the very heart of our culture, and it's weird that no one is talking about it. Because (for now) we still have that capability.

[ms-demeanor]

This is regarding your post involving making friends. I have had a spectacular amount of failures in meetup groups, particularly involving men from multiple meetup groups trying to take advantage of me or using me. In addition to that, the other members of the groups tend are often quite rude. Also, many meetups in my area tend to fall into one of the following categories: professional seminar, mommy & me, or the other members are double my age or older. What would you advise?

Volunteering - find something you care about and see if there is a local volunteer opportunity; you might want to look into food banks or mutual aid projects.

Crafting - this will likely be an older crew, but making friends with older people is cool honestly.

Sports - see if there's a kickball league or some other variety of low-key sport that you can sign up for.

Get super into the local music scene. Go to bar shows, go to basement shows, go to backyard shows. If you go to places where they have local music and hang out a bunch you will get to know local music people eventually, which includes both people in bands and people interested in bands.

Become a regular at your local library. Go once a week at the same time of day and you'll start to get to know people.

Become a regular at something else local. If you go to the same coffee shop three times a week for a few months and are polite to the employees you will probably eventually have friends among the people there; even if you do this by walking around the neighborhood park at the same time of day you will start getting to know the park regulars people love habits and if you can become a chill part of their daily scenery they will eventually want to investigate further.

Start your own club of some kind. Maybe start a book club for a particular genre of book that you like, or start a movie group where you meet up to see a movie together twice a month. You can post things like this on meetup websites or facebook, but you can also make fliers to put up in places that you think people you might find interesting would hang out.

Join a gym and go regularly. Sometimes a random person you see all the time in a gym can go from being a reliable on-the-spot spotter to a good friend.

Take a class locally. See if your town has a community center that offers cooking classes or computer classes or any kind of classes even things you already know. I keep making jokes about improv but improv people are great; see if you can take an impov class. See if your local music store offers music classes (I made weirdly good friends with the folks at the music store where I took vocal lessons; this was a pleasant surprise!)

When you try any of these places make friendly smalltalk with the people you encounter and express interest in them. If you are speaking to employees, make sure you're giving them lots of conversational outs because attempting to befriend people who are working can feel like you're cornering them, I'd actually say don't try to befriend the employees at a business unless you go there and they attempt to befriend you, however as someone who worked in coffee shops for ten years if someone randomly started showing up for six hours a week I would almost certainly have gotten to a friendly shoot-the-shit level with them within a month; if you go out among people who are sociable and are around them enough sometimes the sociable people go "aha! new friend sighted!" and do the hard work for you, but you do have to go to places to let yourself be found by the sociable ones.)

I do not, generally speaking, use meetup groups as a generic thing as much as I look into what groups exist locally that I am interested in. If a local game store is running a weekly Magic tournament, that's a better place to meet people in my opinion than a one-time bowling event.

[dicenote]

Death Note characters ranked on how good they are at driving, from worst to best:

Near: I'm sorry, but he's not reaching the pedals. Like, if you could strap his brain to a car and make him psychically drive it, he'd do better than most people on this list. But in a regular car he'd unfortunately struggle. Maybe he can control the gas/brake while Rester steers, or vice-versa.

Matsuda: I just know that he gets distracted by every little thing. Funny road sign? New song on the radio? Discussing murder notebooks with his passengers? He suddenly forgets that he's in the middle of changing lanes.

Ide: Better than Matsuda because at least he keeps his damn hands on the steering wheel. He's considerably worse if Matsuda and/or Aizawa are bickering in the car with him, though.

Misa: Her placement can be shifted up/down a few spaces depending on your definition of "good". She will get you to your destination 10 minutes earlier than you expect, but multiple traffic laws will be broken on the way.

L: Look, I know he piloted a helicopter in canon without a license, but the sky doesn't have lanes or traffic lights. He can figure out how to drive the vehicle, sure, but his driving is chaotic and only marginally better than Misa's overall.

Light: Like L, he probably doesn't have a license and could work his way around a car. Unlike L, he wants to look like the perfect law-abiding citizen and will try his best to drive like one. He ends up going a bit under the speed limit because of this. L finds his behavior highly suspicious.

Aizawa: Completely average driver, other than the occasional bout of road-rage. Or Matsuda-rage, if a certain idiot is messing with the AC again.

Mogi: Also completely average, but goes completely silent while driving (except when working as Misa's manager). Is he focusing on the road, or does he just not feel like talking? Nobody knows.

Mello: Prefers motorcycles, but is shockingly capable at driving a wide variety of vehicles just fine. He'll even obey the law if he isn't actively committing a crime in said vehicle.

Soichiro: We saw him smash that car into Sakura. Dude managed to make that look cool as hell. When not breaking and entering TV studios, though, he's probably very good at going the speed limit and following traffic laws and all that boring stuff (he is a cop, after all).

Matt: Roughly half of his experience driving is from Mario Kart and GTA, but he can still somehow Tokyo Drift IRL. Theoretically, these could be points against him (see L's placement), but he's so bafflingly good that Rule of Cool makes him the best by default. My point is that he could drive normal, but where's the fun in that?!

[goldsbitch]

That second flight

part 4 to That one Christmas flight

summary: What happens when people stop lying to themselves? Sometimes, you get a good night out of it.

warnings: cheesy af, swear words and alcohoI guess, cliche probably, typos most definitely

Do not fuck it up, do not fuck it up, do not fuck this up.

Hey you? What kind of a message even is that? Ugh. She ruined it. Now she will have to move away and start her life again.

The weather forecast predicted high levels of overreacting for today.

He must have liked the cool girl vibe she somehow gave of on the plane. Y/N prayed for the gods of cool vibes to bless her again.

Lando was just about to start an interview for Sky Sports when he received her message. He imagined this was how it felt to win a podium. On the top of the world. He gave an absolutely charismatic, energetic and funny interview. One that would surely create lots of gifs on the socials. PR manager even high-fived him when they finished. To be honest, he could not wait for a moment of solitude so that he could reply.

"hey" he started. "so I broke the rule, ups" Her reply came instantly.

"I've noticed. But then again, you radiate speeding tickets vibe from miles away. So no surprise."

He smiled, well aware of how efficient the Italian ticketing was running.

"paid one last week, so you got me there" "so, how's your cool student life going?"

"Trying gain some wisdom, as people just feel free to call me dumb on social media these days."

"compliments come in a variety of forms, don't discriminate"

From now on, there was no way back.

//

The next few days consisted of constant texting. Joking around, sending pictures capturing their daily life - both of them keeping in secret that lots of the information shared was nothing new. They were careful, somewhat distancing themselves from any real deep topics. But, days felt like blur, waiting for the next text to come and somehow managing to live the real life in between that. Y/N stayed in most evenings, almost making her friends concerned.

It did not take long enough for famously patient Lando to getting sick of it. They had a week between the next three week round of races. It was now or never. He missed one chance by being mr. mysterious, so mr. direct it was now.

"so, lady. what are you doing this weekend?" he asked out of the blue.

"I dunno. Probably studying, I guess."

"well, you're smart enough, you can skip that. let's meet up."

Y/N pretended to herself that she was second guessing. She headed out, to the bar where her friends were hanging out before they planned on heading to some faculty party. She felt joining them suddenly. Sat quietly, listening to their usual chit chat. Her charade lasted about seven minutes.

"Yes. Let's." she texted and threw her phone deep down to her bag. She was nervous, heart racing and mind quite not catching up yet.

"I need to tell you guys something," she interrupted them and almost demanded immediate attention. Questioning looks followed. "Uh, so I met this guy on a plane. And I'm gonna see him again this weekend."

Saying it like that, she realized that it was all kind of real and that she probably could not explain it in words how bizzare it all felt.

"Aw, that's cute! Tell us more!" Teresa clapped excitedly, the whole weird vibe surrounding her friend making more sense now.

Y/N expected her friends to be more shocked. "Um, yeah. It's just this guy. I don't really know how it's gonna happen, but yeah."

"Is he coming here? Can we meet him?"

Y/N kept the information that they already did to herself. Just in case she is left stranded alone and disappointed.

"I don't...I don't know actually. Yeah."

"We will do as we always do - sharing location and staying by if needed, honey."

Y/N missed a text notification. "great. i'll fly you out to somewhere where we can be alone, not to sound too creepy."

//

She landed an hour after him. Lando sent a picture of him waiting at the airport cafe.

He booked the best hotel room he could find. Well, technically he booked two rooms. Just in case she wanted to keep her distance or if by any chance he fucked up so royally, that she would refuse to share space with him. At least, he could walk away from this like a gentleman.

Since she last him, she forgot just how hot this guy was in person. Seeing him, sitting casually sipping coffee and glued to him phone, she took a moment to study him. It was as if he was tailored specifically to her taste. His clothes covering his godlike body, not too muscular but enough for the sight of his arms sending her to different dimension. The origin of her audacity she had to be the first one to talk to him on the plane was unknown to her. There was no more panic left in her body, as she had done nothing but panicking the whole flight.

She walked and sat opposite to him.

"Hey," he smiled.

"Hey yourself," she replied. There was a moment of awkward silence. Turns out there was a bit of panic left in Y/N after all. Last week she though she'd never see this guy. And now she was staring in his eyes.

"Do you want some coffee?," he asked innocently. He looked her up and down, excited to see her. All of his worries he refused to acknowledge were gone. After all, she got up and flew here just to hang out with him. The reality of this filled him with confidence.

"Yes. A small tiny espresso with no milk."

"Great. Let's grab that and hit the road."

Lando's car might have as well run on butterflies alone present in his vehicle. There was absolutely no way for him to drive some random rental car, so he called up McLaren people to provide him one for the night. It came up in the same conversation when he requested personal time off. Both things came to a certain level of surprise, as he had never done this before. Y/N knew she had to work on a group project for one of her minor classes. Just like him, she had done something she would not have dared - and completely ghosted her group for this weekend.

"You look nice, btw," he commented casually.

"Well yeah, when you're not on an overnight flight across half of the world wearing airport attire, it makes thing easier."

"Hm, I would say sweatpants have some magic to them."

It was hard for Y/N to get the image of him out of her head.

"So, where is my lovely kidnapper taking me?"

They discussed prior to this that the vibe they would like out of this was a casual dinner and then finding the shittiest club possible and have some fun, trying to remain as private as possible yet within the vicinity of the small Italian city.

"My assistant found this lovely little place in the centre. Don't get mad, but I had him completely book it out. You know, the privacy thing," he said with more insecurity than one would expect.

Y/N picked up on that and tried to lighten up the mood. It seemed a bit excessive to do that, but he probably knew what he was doing.

"Your assistant," she gagged over dramatically. "Jesus, am I not worth enough for you to google on your own? Mr. Busy man. Was he also the one who found me online them?" she joked?

"I'm sure I'd have to hire a special person to that if I planned on outsourcing it."

"Creep."

"You love it."

And she did.

He parked in front of the restaurant, without a care for the world.

"So you're telling me we're making a big deal about keeping a secret that you're here, yet you decide to park like a proper asshole?" she remarked while he opened the door for her. Jokes were making her focus on something else than the fact she was falling for him too hard.

"Oh, you're going absolutely hate my plan," he laughed as they were entering the full on empty restaurant.

"Wow, look at that. I invited all my friends!" he whispered to her ear before addressing the owner.

"Hello, you must be Dario?"

This Dario person smiled brightly at him. "Ah, mister Papaya!" Lando nodded and Y/N rolled her eyes. Dario then started speaking Italian without a care of the world. Language wise deaf Lando did not count for the fact people just did not speak English in this part of Italy. A tiny crack in his plan. What was he suppose to do, call Carlos? But, Y/N having spend a good year or two studying there was there to ease the situation. She whipped out her B1 Italian and greeted the man. Dario's happiness filled up the room.

He seated them and immediately brought local red wine and giving a long talk about where this wine was from and how his grandma used to pick up the grapes herself and how the notes did this and that. Y/N tried to translate at the beginning, but Dario looked like was ready to give a TED talk. She started to loose the grasp of the story, which Lando observed. And like good gentleman he helped her out. No, of course not, when he saw her getting lost, he put on a super interested face and asked about seven follow up questions. Y/N was super annoyed. The kind of annoyed that creates a smile on your face.

When this showdown finally ended, Y/N nearly gulped the wine down. "So rude, Dario just said, you're suppose to sit it and let it roll," said Lando and with too much affect sipped his wine. "Aah," he took a deep breath and the bit his tongue. Y/N stuck her tongue out completely like a five year old child. "Yes, I can your red tongue, that's also one of the reasons why you sip it."

They sat, talked and laughed. He seemed genuinely interested when she blabbed a little bit too long about her latest projects. And then he asked her for a feedback on his latest merch, which by sheer coincidence included lots of photos of him. It was hard to admit how much he enjoyed the idea of her looking at him.

"So, um. I'm not sure I understood Dario correctly. But it looks like he insists on getting us the local speciality," she said hesistantly.

"Well, only if his grandma would approve. But why is this strange look on your face?"

"I must have gotten it wrong. Because burnt pasta just sounds wrong. If I wanted that, I could have stayed and have my roommate cook for us."

"Hm, that is an interesting idea." Lando pretended he did not know her roommate's name.

Once Darion brought out the burnt pasta, the couple had a hard time not to laugh.

"When in Rome...well not in Rome, but you get the idea."

"Why is this good?" Y/N proclaimed with her mouth full to the limit.

Lando laughed. "Ah, we have a lady at the table, I see. I mean yeah, I am not supposed to be having pasta now, but this is so weirdly good."

They finished their strange pasta and the bottle of wine. Said goodbye to Dario, Y/N tried not to think on how much it cost to close a restaurant down.

"Wait, what are we going to do about the car? We can't drive now."

"Not to sound like a complete asshole, but I'd like we remove the WE from any sentence including driving now at the beginning, if that is ok. And like I said at the beginning, you're gonna hate this."

"Go on, Lando boy. Tell me."

"Yeah, the car was provided by my employer. And they really need me, so I'm just going to leave the car here to get towed and inform them later."

"Jesus, why!"

"Well, I figured we'll get a taxi in the morning. I want to enjoy all the time I have with you. Dealing with the car is not on the menu today."

There was nothing for Y/N to reply. She was having too much fun to be thinking.

They found what seemed to be the shittiest bar playing 80's and 90's songs, weirdly colored lights swinging out of the rhythm and with people there consisting of old papas and few probably underaged kids. They brought their own wine bottle from Dario, Lando paid 100 euro for two glasses and for the bartender leaving them alone. It did not take long for Y/N to break out to the dance floor. Lando watched her clumsy yet somehow elegant moves for a moment, before he joined her. They danced, as if they were the only people there, laughing and completely ignoring the looks they were getting. And to the tones of remix of Brother Louis, they kissed again. And this time, they kept kissing until late hours, hand roaming around each other, as if they were two teenagers making out for the first time.

part 5

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Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1  @superlegend216 @mehrmonga @lovely-blackinnon @mylifeihate1029 @lausdigitaldiary @tswizzleismother

[missmatchablossom]

Gojo x Reader Royalty AU | Part VI.

summary: you are a princess in an arranged marriage with the crown prince of the country, satoru gojo. after you two finally confess your feelings to one another, you get to experience a new side to your prince

a.n.: y'all I was giggling so hard writing this part! I know the soccer part is random but I had to! enjoy the fluff of part 6 <3

tags: @lysaray @nourhanfarid13 @geniejunn @weirdoaroundtheblock @calypsothegoddess @wakawaka22pp

~

Suddenly, being around your prince made you extremely nervous. It was a good nervous, though. Butterflies in your stomach and high-pitched laugher type nervous.

After all, you both just admitted you loved each other. And everytime you thought back on the memory - which was all the time - you turned into a smiling and giggling mess.

You had to stop yourself from skipping like a school girl as you made your way towards one of the balconies overlooking the gardens, where you had started meeting Gojo for the afternoon tea time he added to your schedule for every other day. It was a short hour you got to see him during the day, and it quickly became your favorite part of your week.

You peeked your head into the open door of the balcony, enjoying the sweet breeze passing over you. Gojo was there already, the picture of ease with a cup of tea to his lips and an ankle crossed over his knee.

“Are you just going to stand there looking beautiful or are you joining me?” he teased, beckoning you towards him with two fingers.

This man will be the death of me, you thought.

You smile shyly as you made you way to your prince, who stood up as you neared. He kept his warm, indulgent gaze on you as you closed the distance between you - stopping close enough where you had to tilt your head up to see his smile, and he had to tip his head down to see yours.

“Hi,” you said, feeling the stress of the week melting away as your prince gazed at you, his eyes alight with happiness and humor as he chuckled.

“Hey,” he answered back softly, gently pulling you into his arms. You sighed as you pressed your cheek against his chest, his head resting above yours as your arms met across his back. The smooth silk of his shirt felt cool against your skin, the scent of sandalwood kissing your nose.

“How are you today, my love?” he asked, rubbing his hand soothingly up and down your back, sending delightful chills down your spine.

“Much better now,” you said, squeezing yourself even tighter against him. The rich sound of his laughter brushed against your ear before he stepped away, pulling your chair out for you.

You slipped into the seat across from him, smiling as your prince placed a variety of sweets on your plate and poured you a cup of tea before you got the chance to ask.

“What are you up to this week?” you asked, reaching for the macaron he added to your plate.

“We’re hosting a charity soccer game in a few days. A couple other princes and nobility are going to form teams and play each other,” he said, a playful grin on his face.

“You can play soccer?” you asked incredulously.

“Baby, I can do anything,” he replied, winking at you as you laughed and rolled your eyes. His smile softened, as if making you laugh made him happy.

“Alright hotshot, I’m looking forward to seeing you play,” you said, nudging your foot against his under the table.

“You mean you look forward to seeing me win,” he corrected, a playful, determined glint in those eyes of his.

“I’ll have to see it to believe it. By the way, what number will be on your jersey?”

~

It felt slightly embarrassing walking onto the field with the number “10” painted on your cheeks and navy ribbons tied to your pigtails - a match to Gojo’s jersey number and team colors, of course. But felt relieved spotting similarly dressed friends and fiances of the other players as you settled among them. When you gazed out towards the field, you froze.

You’d seen Gojo in a lot of outfits. A button up and black slacks for his go-to outfit. A navy suit for official business. Plaid pajama bottoms with a grey crewneck for pajamas. But you’d never seen him sporting a soccer jersey and athletic shorts before. 

You vaguely recalled recognizing other players on the field - Megumi and Yuji passed the ball to each other, Nanami completed stretches nearby them. But you couldn’t bring your focus away from your prince, especially not when the game began.

A whistle rang in your ear before men started dashing across the field, but Gojo was easy to spot. He had the ball immediately, his long legs eating up the distance between the middle of the field and his team’s goal. He was at least a head taller than everyone else there, but he moved with the ease and speed of a seasoned player, easily evading the advances of Megumi and Yuji.

Gojo made it in front of his opponent’s goal, kicking out one long leg as he launched the ball into the goal. He pumped his fist and jumped up in celebration, laughing and smiling as his teammates clapped him on the back. He squinted as he looked up towards the stands, scanning the cheering crowd until his eyes landed on you.

His smile dropped into a gape as he looked at you, eyes widening as his eyes perused up and down your body. 

Oh no, did I overdo it? you thought to yourself. Your friend Nobara had reassured you your outfit was cute and spirited - one of Gojo’s extra jerseys you stole from his closet and an athletic skirt. But now you second guessed if you looked silly with the wide-eyed way Gojo was looking at you.

His lips began moving, but you couldn’t hear him with the distance and the roar of the crowd. You frowned and tilted your head, cupping your ear to signal to him that you couldn’t hear him. He shook his head, mouthing three words ever so slowly.

“You…are…adorable?” you repeated to yourself, immediately blushing and laughing as his words registered. He sent you a devastating smile and wink before he returned to his position on the field.

“Ahem, I saw that,” Nobara said, elbowing you as you both laughed. 

The game went on, but you truly could not describe a single thing that happened. You were too absorbed with your prince - the way his silver hair grew windswept, the way his cheeks grew pink with the sun, the way he smiled and jumped everytime he scored a goal, the way he would lift his shirt up to wipe the sweat beading at his forehead, revealing smooth, marble-like skin that ran over defined muscles. You were focused, alright. Just not on the game.

By the time the game finished, Gojo strode over to you with boyish smile on his face. He looked so different from the cool and collected prince you knew him to be - sweat beading down his face, flushed cheeks, dirt and grass sprinkled across his skin. But his eyes were bright, his face practically glowing as he caught his breath. And you thought he couldn’t get any more handsome.

“So, do I get a reward for winning?” he asked, raising his brows expectantly at you. You smiled coyly at him, handing him a water bottle and a towel.

“That depends. What would you like?” you asked, taking a step in his space and fluttering your lashes at him. He took a deep pull from the water bottle, then raked his eyes up and down you appreciatively.

“Nevermind. Seeing you dressed like this was reward enough,” he said, staring at you so shamelessly and appreciatively that you had half a mind to tell him to put his stare away in public.

But hey, you knew what you were wearing to the next soccer game.

~ 

By the time you returned to your bedroom, ready to retire for the night, your prince was already sprawled on your bed. It was one of those rare days where he was there first, and you loved the sight of him waiting for you.

Gojo has his back propped up against a few pillows, his long legs stretched out above the comforter and crossed at the ankle. He had his head propped up by one arm, the other holding a book up to his face. There was something adorable about the focus he held as his eyes scanned the lines, his pearly lashes fanning down his cheeks as he read. He was wearing his golden glasses, his silver locks down over his eyes from his shower.

“How are you liking it so far?” you asked, a smile tugging on your lips as you shed your coat.

“This Feyre girl is kinda annoying. I ship Tamlin and Lucien,” he said, peeking up at you from your copy of A Court of Thorns and Roses he asked to borrow. You’d gotten into the series recently, telling him so much about it that he started getting curious.

“When is the faerie porn gonna start?” he asked, causing you to laugh and shake your head as you headed inside your bathroom.

“Soon. Keep reading!” you yelled over your shoulder, pausing to stare at your bathroom counter. Your skincare products had been neatly laid out in the perfect order of your routine, a pair of your sleepshorts and one of Gojo’s shirts neatly folded on the side. Your eyes grew glassy as you walked back into the room, gaping at your fiance.

“Did you lay all of that out for me?” you asked, seeing a warm smile settle across your fiance’s face.

“Yup. Anything to get you into bed with me faster,” he teased. It was like a switch flipped in him since you confessed to each other, his teasing was relentless. 

You puffed your cheeks out, turning back to the bathroom in a huff. 

The way he laid out your products and pajamas made your shower a much more pleasant experience - he even set aside one of the lavender shower steamers you loved so much. It was impossible to keep your mind off him throughout your entire shower, your mind wandering as you scrubbed your body wash over your skin, wondering what his bare touch would feel like.

By the time you were done, you were desperately trying to erase the sinful images you kept playing in your mind. You walked towards your bed without looking at Gojo, sitting on your side of the bed with your back facing him. 

“Are you mad at me for teasing you so much?” he said softly, sliding two warm hands on your sides.

No, I just can’t look at you because I kept picturing you shirtless-

“No,” you said truthfully. His teases made you incredibly flustered and embarrassed, but never mad.

“You have been relentless lately though,” you said, throwing a small smile at him over your shoulder to show him you weren’t upset. He grinned back at you, easily lifting you into his lap so you laid sideways across him.

“I can’t help it. I love watching your different reactions too much,” he said, lightly tapping his finger against your nose. You sighed dramatically, sliding off his lap and settling beside him, stretching out your body as you laid down facing him.

Your prince wrapped an arm around you as you pressed yourself into him, and you happily closed your eyes as he dropped a kiss to your forehead.

“Have I told you how beautiful I think you are?” he asked easily, innocently, as if he was asking you about the weather.

You buried your face into his chest to hide your blush, your shy giggle muffled against his shirt.

“I don’t know how you can say that stuff with a straight face,” you said, his laugh puffing against your cheek.

“I must not be saying it enough if you still can’t look me in the eye when I compliment you. I’ll have to fix that immediately,” he said, gently lifting your face from his chest and leaning down to press a slow, sweet kiss to your lips. 

You sighed blissfully, feeling a rich happiness washing over you. Gojo made you feel invincible, beautiful, powerful - but you wondered if you had done the same to him. It was about time to return the favor.

You rolled onto his chest, propping your head up with your palms as Gojo beamed down at you indulgently, his arms crossed behind his head.

“Have I told you that I think you are the most gorgeous man I have ever laid eyes on?” you asked. And for once, your prince who was so quick with his words, was speechless.

His eyes widened as he processed what you said, his gaze averting as a beautiful blush dusted across his skin. He was adorable.

You held back a laugh as you tilted your head to the side to catch his gaze, leaning up to press a quick peck to his lips.

“I could seriously stare at you all day. I think you have the prettiest eyes ever, I love your long lashes, I love your nose, I love the way you smell, I love the way you style your hai-”

Gojo leaned forward, burying his face into your shoulder and flipping so you were underneath him.

“Mercy, please. I’ll have a heart attack,” he said woefully, the skin at his ears and neck now flushed like you’d never seen before.

You laughed as you rubbed his back, the weight of him on top of you making it impossible for you to move. But you wouldn’t trade your spot for the world.

“I thought you would be used to compliments by now. Weren’t you voted hottest prince in the world for the past 6 years?” you teased, referencing a popular magazine brand that loved showcasing Gojo. You totally weren’t collecting them.

“From strangers yes. Not from the girl I’m in love with,” he mumbled, uncharacteristically shy.

You smiled so much your cheeks started to hurt. 

“Ah, I’ll have to say them more often then,” you said, stroking your hand over his head, the silver strands tickling your hand. He let out a sigh, leaning into your touch.

The two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence, until you released a yawn so big it made your eyes water.

“Want me to turn off the lights?” he asked, chuckling as he lifted his head from your chest. You nodded, sending him a sleepy smile as he got up, shutting off all the lights - save for a tiny night light you insisted on. He made sure the door was closed before he joined you under your duvet. 

He immediately opened up his arms, making space for you to settle your back against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. 

“Goodnight, Toru,” you said, using a nickname you rarely felt brave enough to try. You giggled as you heard him let out a small groan.

[candied-boys]

📻Country Radio Themed Prompt List🐎

Y'all, it's rodeo season and I'm havin' a hot cowgirl summer!

I know there are at least a few of us out here who love a little small town, texas two-step, roll in the hay, tailgate party, coffee with a sunrise, dusty boots and sundresses kinda slow life. I know I can't stop putting my favs in situations whenever I listen to country music and I hope y'all hop on the bandwagon and join me for my first creation challenge!

So round up your fav cowboys and giddy up, gurl! We ride 'til the end of September! Radio playlists below👇

FAQ:

Can I submit something I already created if it fits the vibe?

HELL YEAH! Old content that fits the theme in anyway and new creations are all welcome! (Honestly even if it doesn't fit any of the prompts, I'll take any country content I can get so please reblog your works and tag me!)

How can I write for the country genre if I'm not familiar with it?

Don't sweat it! If you vibe with anything here that's more than enough! I tried to pick lyrics with a variety of themes - family, love, coming of age, angst, bad boys/girls etc. They all centre around a sense of connection and relationships - universally human themes.

We're all here playing games that locate the characters inside cultures outside of Japan and we're here writing for cultures outside our own when writing for these games, so don't be shy! Just let yourself have fun.

What should I do with lyrics?

Use the prompts however you like; Any and all types of content submissions are welcome — writing, drabbles, head canons, drawing, mood boards, playlists, whatever makes you say, "Hell yeah!"

Examples: You could use the lyrics directly as quotes, indirectly as the premise for the art. Anything! You could incorporate the lyrics from the rest of the song. There are a ton of great lines/ideas in the rest of each song. You're not restricted to these quotes. I just picked ones that speak to me or have a strong image. If you vibe with it and it inspires you, go for it!

What fandoms can I use with these prompts?

Any suitors from games by CYBIRD (Ikepri, Ikevamp, Ikerev, MidCin, Ikevil, Ikesen, Ikegen, Morganatic Idol, ANYTHING)

What kind of content is allowed?

Sfw, nsfw, dark, angst, fluff, suitor x suitor, selfship, oc x suitor — anything is fine. I only ask that you use Tumblr’s built-in content label system to mark content as mature when appropriate. Use tags and warnings as you see necessary.

What tags should I use?

#CountryRadioCC

please at me @candied-boys so I can add your work to a masterlist

Playlists:

Lyrics:

Heart Like A Truck - Lainey Wilson

I got a hankering for four wide tires

And I can't help it, it's the way I'm wired

'Fore you get too close

Boy, you need to know

Turn - Tyler Hubbard

The way she turns 501s into long, tan legs

She can turn a bad day around like she turns those heads

She can turn one little look into turnin' me on

Five more minutes into all night long

Fishin' in the Dark - Nitty Gritty Dirt Band

And it don't matter if we sit forever

And the fish don't bite

Jump in the river and cool ourselves

From the heat of the night

I Grew Up On A Farm - The Reklaws

Why I gotta watch the sunrise

Job ain't ever done till it's done right

I'll tell you what makes me cry about a steel guitar

And why I gotta work so hard

Dirt Cheap - Cody Johnson

That little girl that used to swing right there

I still see her pink bow in her brown hair

Runnin' up after one of them long days

A big smile makin' every little worry fade

Use Me - Dallas Smith

I'll let you go like I always do

Won't hurt as bad 'cause I always knew

That I was just a chapter, no happily-ever-after

Old Dirt Roads - Owen Riegling

Come and find me down where the treeline ends

And the cattails grow

We can be free, livin' our dreams out

Singin' to the radio

American Kids - Kenny Chesney

Sister's got a boyfriend Daddy doesn't like

Now he's sittin' out back, 3030 in his lap

In the blue bug zapper light

Fast Car - Luke Combs

Won't have to drive too far

Just across the border and into the city

And you and I can both get jobs

Finally see what it means to be living

Long Hot Summer - Keith Urban

I wanna see your brown skin shimmer

In the sun for the first time

I gotta be the one who knows just what to do to you

To get me that smile

I Like It, I Love It - Tim McGraw

Spent 48 dollars last night at the county fair

I throwed out my shoulder, but I won her that teddy bear

Cowgirls - Morgan Wallen

And she got a cold heart but she got a warm smile

Cut from the same cloth, she kinda buck-wild

Little bit angel, whole lotta outlaw

She's trouble but I'll tell you right now, y'all

A banner for y'all:

Adorable horse dividers by @/plum98

[junkissed]

stoner!svt

their favorite forms of weed + random stoner thoughts

member — svt ot13 x reader genre — headcanons, humor word count — 1.0k warnings — descriptions of marijuana and smoking. there isn't anything explicit or suggestive in this, but my blog is 18+ so minors dni. but whether you're a minor or not, please do not take advice about drugs from strangers on the internet,, i am so unqualified and this is just a reflection of my own experiences so don't take anything here as fact. always use responsibly! notes — huge thanks to @wooahaeproductions @highvern and @gyuwoncheol for brainstorming this with me !! as tumblr's resident stoner huihui i have many more thots about stoner!svt so feel free to stop by my inbox with your ideas to chat 👀

one reblog = one joint hand rolled for you by minghao himself

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seungcheol: dab pen

big bulky man requires a big bulky pen. it hits harder and feels way more intense so he doesn’t care that it’s harder to clean. he also has a dab rig and he thinks it makes him cool and different because he and vernon are the only ones who actually know how to use it

jeonghan: weird shaped bong

he has to be Extra at all times so he has a surprising variety of odd shapes. the tentacle one on his dresser is his most interesting one for sure, but the one shaped like an arcade game machine with actual flashing lights is his favorite. he’s the king of princess treatment so he definitely makes everyone else light his bongs for him; why would he do it himself when there’s a perfectly good coups sitting right there?

joshua: fruity disposable thc pens

he’s made it his life mission to try every flavor once. los angeles is like the vape capital of the world so there is definitely no shortage of flavors for him to try. someone please pack him a normal regular unflavored bowl before all his clothes permanently smell like strawberry ice. he thinks he’s subtle but you can literally smell him a mile away, his scent enters the room before he does

junhui: literally anything

willing to take whatever you’re willing to give: you put any kind of weed in front of him and he’s gonna try it. he really doesn’t have a preference for what form it’s in, as long as he gets to do it with you <3 i can also see him trying edibles in different forms than the usual kinds, like the ones that come in a can like soda or a bag of chips. it’s hard to tell when he’s high because he’s the same amount of giggly as he always is, it’s like a 50/50 chance of whether he’s stoned or just silly

soonyoung: preroll joints

he tries so hard it’s kind of sad but also so funny. he takes one hit and coughs like he's been chainsmoking cigarettes for the last 40 years, then gets tired after 10 minutes and lays facedown on the floor until he falls asleep. he’s not invited to smoke with you anymore because he spills the bong water every single time without fail. he becomes the most giggly and cuddly person you’ve ever seen in your life; imagine drunk hosh, times ten. he sets up his tiger plushies in a circle and passes the joint around like he’s a 4 year old girl having a tea party. he starts crying if one of them feels left out so he has to count and make sure they all get an equal number of hits

jihoon: normal shaped bong

locks himself in and hotboxes the studio. he mostly does it to get out of his own head and chill alone for a while, so don’t even think about interrupting him. he’ll emerge from a cloud of smoke a couple of hours later with 2 new albums, god of light music: the sequel, and a solo for hoshi. he doesn’t let the other members touch his stuff or even know where he hides it

wonwoo: normal shaped bong (dirty)

i hate to play into the dirty gamer boy stereotype that he’s always written as… but he 100% never cleans it. it’s always byob (bring your own bong) when he invites you over because he may be with fine smoking a crusty bowl, but not everyone feels that way sorry dude

minghao: hand-rolled joints

he doesn’t trust anyone to roll but himself. he has fancy expensive organic papers that he got from an exclusive farmer's market and he treats it like an art form but honestly it hits way better when he does it so you don’t question his technique. a hand rolled joint from minghao is like a gift from god

mingyu: homemade edibles

vernon gave him a homemade rice krispie once and he swore it wasn’t hitting so he ate another one... and then passed out on the couch. after vernon gave him the recipe, mr. professional chef here decided he likes to bake them himself but somehow always ends up measuring it wrong and makes them way too strong. on accident or on purpose? we may never know. most likely both. he gets so high he can’t even stand up straight, most giggly and cuddly person you’ve ever seen #2

seokmin: cbd gummies

he takes them to relax or to help him fall asleep rather than to get super high. but he still wanted to feel included with the members who smoke so he tried to buy a cart one time but he bought a melatonin pen on accident instead and they never let him live that down

seungkwan: normal shaped bong (clean)

he takes good care of his stuff and he’s serious about it! he had a bad experience with mold once and now he’s paranoid about remembering to change the bong water. he cleans it daily and keeps everything nice and organized, and he has a bedazzled grinder because if he’s gonna smoke then he’s gonna do it in style obviously

vernon: also literally anything

he’s honestly down for whatever. he prefers smoking over edibles but he doesn’t care if it’s a joint, a pen, a bong. also depends on his mood but the majority of the time it’s whatever is the closest within reach and requires the least amount of effort

chan: 4ft tall bong

how? why does he have that? where did he get it? huh? those are all questions he doesn’t have the answers to either. it’s more of a mascot than anything; it sits in the corner of his living room like a lamp and he doesn’t even use it. he uses a regular bong the majority of the time but only because he’s afraid of breaking the sacred Tall Bong. it’s a big hit at parties

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if this made you laugh, consider leaving a reblog! i'd love to hear your thoughts :) feedback shows me that this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

taglist | @wonderfulshinee @noniestars @onlymingyus @just-here-to-read-01 @wonuziex @enhacolor @yourfavoritefreakyhan @dkakapizzaboy @zozojella @rainyjeno @jwnghyuns @uwuheeseungie @miriamxsworld @synthetickitsune @simeonswhore @junhour @foxdaisy @98-0603 @fairybinie @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @luvwonyy @novalpha @ronnie97b @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @usari @hyneyedfiz @honestlydooetree @ktackore @k-drama-adict @valentxi @aaniag @aaasia111 @hyneyedfiz @crvs4vldtn

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if you want to be notified when i post a new fic, you can join my taglist here!

[eksvaized]

Part One König / Ghost / Reader [ Previous 〡 Next ] ︱AO3 ︱Wattpad ︱ taglist: - (if you want to be added - let me know!)

since I finished editing 'just friends', I decided to rewrite & edit this story, so I hope you'll enjoy the new version! <3

Each morning, you awaken alone. The enormous bed, once filled with warmth, now cold and empty. Today, your morning isn't any different from the countless ones that have come before. As you roll onto your side, your hand stretches out, tracing the cool, empty expanse of the mattress. Your fingers curl around the frosty pillow, its fabric still bearing the faintest scent of him. You draw it closer to you, clutching at it in a futile attempt to fill the void that is left by your boyfriend and his lack of presence.

A sigh, barely audible, escapes your lips as a wave of loneliness engulfs you. Its icy tendrils wrap tightly around your heart, constricting it in a bitter reminder of your solitude. You yearn for a morning where you can flutter open your eyes to find König next to you, his arms securely wrapped around your body, his breath warm against your skin. You long to see him still sleeping, his face relaxed in peaceful slumber, instead of disappearing and getting out of bed as soon as the first rays of sunshine peek through the window. A longing for the soft whispers of "good morning" and the gentle comfort of his embrace fills you, making the emptiness of the bed all the more pathetic.

The first two years of your relationship with König were great. You were happy, genuinely happy, and over the moon because you finally had someone in your life, who truly cared about you, who showered you with attention and affection, and even lavished you with expensive gifts. You felt cherished and valued, and it was a feeling unlike anything you had ever experienced before.

However, as of late, König has transformed into someone unrecognizable. He is still your boyfriend; you love him very much, and he probably loves you even more. Yet, his demeanour, his behaviour, and the manner in which he has started to conduct himself have left you in a state of constant questioning. The love you once never doubted now seems uncertain, as his actions and attitude have begun to paint a different picture—he's not the man you met and fell in love with two years ago.

Sometimes, usually after a couple glasses of wine when you've gathered the courage, you dare to confront him about his nonchalant attitude towards you. In these moments of newfound bravery, you bombard him with questions, desperately seeking to understand if it's something you are doing that causes him to act as if he couldn't care less about you or your feelings. But no matter how earnestly you implore, he never gives you the answers you're looking for. He never provides any concrete explanations or reasons for his indifference.

He has a myriad of excuses for why he doesn't want to engage with you about your concerns. The reasons are countless and they change each time, just like shifting sands, always elusive and never consistent. You've heard a variety of them. For instance, he might dismiss your confrontation because of you being wine drunk, suggesting that you should go to bed. Another time, he might say he's too tired to engage in a deep conversation and promise to talk with you in the morning.

But perhaps the one that stings the most, your least favourite, is when he pretends he didn't hear you. Even when you're standing directly in front of him, looking at him with teary eyes, and pouring out your heart, he chooses to feign ignorance and act as though he didn't hear a single word. This cold dismissal is far worse than any words he could say.

Although he's cold with you, he never never displays any outright cruelty. Still, you can't help but notice the chilly detachment that has creeps into his voice when he talks with you. It's as if a frost has settled over your conversations, making each word feel like a shard of ice. Or the flicker of irritation that now seems to have taken up permanent residence in his eyes whenever he comes home and sees you. It's as if he's looking through you rather than at you, seeing not the person you are but the person he wishes you were.

König has constructed around himself an impenetrable wall. A wall so thick and so high that no matter how much you chip away at it, no matter how hard you try to scale its heights, it remains steadfast. It stands there as a constant reminder of the gulf that has opened up between you two—a gulf that seems to widen with each passing day.

You find yourself continuously attempting to convince your own mind that this is merely a fleeting phase, a temporary hiccup in your relationship. Every relationship, after all, has its own set of struggles and hurdles to overcome. It's normal, you tell yourself, maybe all you need to do is to be patient and wait it out. Time has a way of healing wounds and mending bridges, and perhaps a little more of it could be the magic potion that brings everything back to the way it used to be - normal and simple.

However, despite your best efforts to suppress it, there's a harsh, cruel voice that resides in the deepest recesses of your mind, nagging persistently. It casts a dark shadow of doubt over your thoughts, suggesting with an unsettling certainty that maybe, just maybe, the once deep love that existed between you and him is gradually, and painfully, fading away into oblivion.

You are brewing coffee, desperately hoping that the invigorating aroma and the caffeine would help to dissipate the remnants of sleep that linger stubbornly within you. The quiet solitude of the early morning embraces you, punctuated only by the gentle hum of the brewing machine and the occasional chirping of a bird outside.

But suddenly, the tranquillity of the moment shatters like glass as the front door swings open with a force that rings through the house. This abrupt entrance is quickly followed by the distinct, rhythmic thud of heavy boots making their way down the lengthy corridor. Each footfall sends a reverberation through the floorboards. The sound is so familiar, yet it sends a jolt through your heart. You don't even need to turn around to know - König has returned home.

Over the past few weeks, you've found yourself walking on eggshells around him. It feels as though the surrounding air has become thin and brittle, ready to shatter at the slightest misstep. You've been constantly monitoring your words and actions, choosing them with careful deliberation so as not to accidentally exacerbate his increasingly volatile mood, which has been fluctuating more frequently as days pass. But when he finally appears in the doorway of the kitchen, his face etched with deep lines of exhaustion and his eyes vacant, you find the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them.

"What's wrong?"

His response is curt, delivered with an air of finality that leaves no room for further questions. "Nothing you need to worry about, liebling," he says, attempting to alleviate the palpable tension in the kitchen with a smile. But it's strained, fragile, like a piece of glass that's on the verge of shattering. The corners of his lips quiver slightly, an involuntary reaction betraying his inner turmoil. The frown lines etched deep on his forehead refuse to disappear, stubbornly present even as he tries to mask his emotions.

He closes the distance between you, his footsteps echoing in the silence. He leans in to plant a brief, fleeting kiss on your forehead, his lips colder than you remember, their warmth replaced by a chill that sends a shiver down your spine. As he continues his task, his hand reaches up to retrieve a cup from the cupboard above your head. You can't help but notice the new changes in him. His movements lack their usual grace, his touch feels mechanical, and his caresses are devoid of the genuine affection you've grown accustomed to. It's as if he's simply operating on autopilot, his mind evidently elsewhere.

You yearn for him to confide in you, to share his burdens and let you in on the whirlwind of thoughts that seem to be plaguing him. You wish to be his solace, to help him navigate through his sea of worries. More than anything, you want to help him, to alleviate his worries and bring back the man you know and love. But how can you do that if he refuses to let you in, if he remains so stubbornly silent, his emotions locked up tighter than a fortress?

"I'm leaving tomorrow. Have another mission. It's going to be a short one," König finally says, his gaze piercing you with an intensity that suggests he's expecting you to blow up.

However, you strive to maintain your composure. You have no intention of descending into another fruitless argument; every time he leaves after a fight, you feel awful for the way you acted.

"It's only been a week since you've returned home," you say, your eyes focused on the steaming cup cradled in your hands. The heat radiating from the cup is causing your fingertips to tingle, and the steam is lightly brushing against your skin. Despite the discomfort, you hold on to it with a firm grip. "I thought you were going to stay for at least another week. We had plans, remember? You gave me your word—."

He cuts you off before you can complete your sentence. "Plans have changed."

There have been countless times when you've wanted to confront König, to ask him directly why he finds it so challenging to uphold the promises that he so confidently makes. Yet each time you find yourself holding back, fully aware that such a conversation would be futile and would only result in both of you raising your voices in frustration. It has become painfully clear that he has no intention of discussing work-related matters with you.

König has a habit of offering reassurances that are devoid of any real comfort. He frequently insists that it's silly for you to burden your mind with matters that, in his opinion, do not directly concern you. This line of reasoning, though flawed, he presents as if it were an undeniable truth. And if, despite his attempts to dissuade you, you still muster the courage to press further, he always has a fallback. He always abruptly ends the conversation, leaving you hanging with a parting remark that it would be safer, better for you, if you remained ignorant.

* * *

As dawn breaks, you stir from your slumber only to find yourself enveloped once again by the cold emptiness of the bed beside you. The dreary grey skies outside mirror your inner turmoil. Raindrops pitter-patter gently against the windowpane. König didn't even bother waking you up before leaving. Yet, his absence is punctuated by a hastily scrawled note left carelessly on the nightstand. The message is brief and impersonal, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth: 'had to get up early, didn't want to wake you up. see you soon.'

Was it really so difficult to scribble three more words?

With a soft sigh, you whisper into the stillness of the bedroom, "I love you, too." The words, left unsaid by him, hang heavy in the air. You clutch the note in your hand before crumpling it and aimlessly tossing it onto the mattress.

With a great deal of effort, you pull yourself from the warm embrace of the bed, your feet reluctantly making contact with the icy floor beneath. You pause for a second, collecting your scattered thoughts, allowing the remnants of sleep to fade away as you mentally prepare yourself for yet another day.

Slowly, you venture through the hauntingly silent house, each step echoing through the stillness of the early morning. Each room you pass through seems to reverberate with echoes of a thousand memories that seem to cling to the walls and linger in the air. Yet amidst the symphony of remembrances, there's one memory that stands out from the rest, a memory that refuses to be drowned out by the others. It's that heated argument with König, a fiery exchange of words and emotions that took place just a few months ago.

You vividly recall the sting of his dismissive attitude on that day when you bared your soul to him, accusing him bitterly of not taking your relationship as seriously as you did, accusing him of taking your love, your commitment, for granted as if it were an inconsequential thing.

In the depths of your heart, you wished fervently, desperately even, for him to just be honest with you if his feelings for you were slowly fading away, like the last embers of a once roaring fire. You wanted him to admit it if he no longer felt the same passion, the same affection that once seemed to radiate from him like a comforting warmth.

But instead of providing the honesty you craved, he had merely dismissed your concerns, brushed them aside like dust. He told you that you were imagining things, that it was all just a figment of your overactive imagination, assuring you with words that felt hollow, that nothing between you two had changed.

But by the day's end, he had taken a step that had left you reeling in confusion. He had asked you to move in with him, a grand gesture that he believed would dispel your doubts and insecurities, a gesture that he thought would reassure you of his commitment. But instead of providing the comfort he hoped it would, it merely added another layer of complexity to the turbulent sea of emotions within you.

Initially, there was a glimmer of hope, a faint belief that things were on the verge of improving. You harboured the thought that perhaps the physical distance, the living apart, had been the catalyst that dimmed the once vibrant flame of your relationship. However, as each day bled into the next, and weeks morphed into seemingly interminable months, the solitary confinement within these walls began to weigh heavily on you.

The more time you spent alone in this house, the more you found yourself yearning for the familiar corners of your old apartment, regretting the decision to sell it to relocate here. After all, you pondered, what difference does it make where you live? The four walls of a room are just that, and the absence of König made this house feel no different than your old apartment.

What was the point of moving in together if König was always away, prioritising his work and his duty as a soldier above you?

You shake your head, as if physically trying to dispel the thoughts that have begun to creep into your mind. You can't allow yourself to dwell on them any longer, to let them take root and cast a shadow over your day. After all, the day has only just begun and you don't want to end up sulking on the couch, a prisoner in your own home, wallowing in a sea of regret and loneliness.

You stroll into the kitchen. As you slowly approach the counter, your fingers lightly graze the cool, granite surface, your mind whirling with the endless possibilities of what to make for breakfast. Your gaze wanders aimlessly, eventually settling on the window that provides a picturesque view of the neighbourhood.

You squint against the bright sun, your eyes catching an unusual sight - a man, his face damp with sweat under the morning sun, is engaged in an arduous task of moving boxes from a truck to the house across the street. His movements are slow and meticulous, each box handled with care as if they contain something precious.

A new neighbour.

A sense of intrigue washes over you, an irresistible curiosity that grips your very being. It's a magnetic pull that holds your attention captive, rendering you incapable of tearing your gaze away from the scene unfolding before your eyes.

His house lies across the street, a good distance away, yet his features are strikingly apparent and impossible to ignore even from your secluded vantage point in the cosy confines of your kitchen. His stature is tall and imposing, a figure that commands attention. His shoulders are broad, his hair is a dishevelled mess of rich blond locks.

As the day wears on, you find yourself repeatedly drawn to the kitchen window. Every so often, the man would step outside to retrieve yet another box from his truck, providing you with fleeting glimpses of him.

You remind yourself that you are in a committed relationship. You know that ogling other men is not something you should be doing. It's not something you usually do, and it's certainly not something you want to make a habit of.

However, in the recesses of your mind, a voice tries to justify your actions. It whispers, seeking to ease your guilt. You're just looking. That's not really doing anything wrong, right? It's a feeble attempt at rationalizing, but it works nonetheless.

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

EWAN MITCHELL INTERVIEWED BY VARIETY MAGAZINE.

AFTER THE BATTLE OF ROOK'S REST, WHERE IS AEMOND AND AEGON'S SIBLING RELATIONSHIP?

"It’s never been great between those two."

"Aemond has always seen Aegon as someone inferior who lacks the dedication and persistence to be king, whereas Aemond has always seen himself as — although he is the spare — that he should have been treated as the first son."

"Aegon himself even says, in Episode 9 of Season 1, he has no wish to rule."

"You get the idea that he has no political ambition whatsoever."

"You can see how that might look to members of the small council, because that’s someone you might be able to control, and have some sway on their direction."

"You couple that with Aemond, who you could argue has a political agenda and does have his own ambition, and you can see how that might not be as lucrative to the small council because that might be a wildcard — someone you might not be able to control as much."

"I love that scene when they vote Aemond into power, and he goes from one end of the table to the other because there is this massive switch."

"Aemond has been serving the war from this side of the table."

"He goes to the other side, and he sees all of these other characters in a new perspective."

"How can they serve Aemond now? It’s somewhat similar to the relationship with Aegon."

"How can he serve me now that he’s in his bed, and he’s terribly crippled from what Aemond did to him in the skies above Rook’s Rest?"

"It raises the question of how much of a hindrance he might serve to me in the state that he’s in, and now with Aemond’s newfound power, will he get in the way?"

"Is he still on my side?"

"I love all the shakeups in Episode 6."

WHAT POLITICAL AGENDA AND AMBITION DOES AEMOND HAVE NOW THAT HE'S ON THE IRON THRONE?

"He doesn’t even want to sit on the throne."

"Aemond recognizes that he who sits the Iron Throne ultimately becomes the most wanted man in the realm."

"Aemond has a pretty large target on his back already."

"A part of Aemond knows that anyone who sits on the Iron Throne accidentally cuts themselves."

"Heavy lies the head that wears the crown."

"Aemond might be happiest operating as prince regent."

"Or maybe he does want the throne! Maybe he does want absolute power."

"That’s what I love about Aemond, that ambiguity."

"You don’t know what master he serves, what he’s ultimately striving for."

"Whatever it is, it’s not going to be pretty."

AEMOND AND AEGON FINALLY TALK IN THIS EPISODE AFTER THE ROOK'S REST. AEMOND ASKS HIS BROTHER HOW MUCH HE REMEMBERS FROM THE BATTLE AND AEGON SAYS "NOTHING." BUT IT SEEMS LIKE AEMOND IS COERCING HIM INTO SILENCE, AND HE GIVES HIM THE LITTLE BALL FROM THE SMALL COUNCIL SEEMINGLY AS A BRIBE OR A THREAT. HOW SHOULD WE INTERPRET THAT SCENE?

"You’ll have to wait and see. I love that scene, because it’s almost like Stephen King’s “Misery.”

"It’s like this spider leering over his prey in the web."

"You’re right there in the palm of my hand."

"That’s certainly a new dynamic for Aemond, as well as his brother, who’s now physically inferior than him."

"I can’t wait to see where it goes."

"If I give all the answers, people will stop asking the questions."

"That’s a really cool way of looking at it."

"It’s the king’s marker."

"Maybe Aemond is giving it back to his brother, maybe he’s trying to reassure him that everything’s gonna be okay — “You’ll be king after you recover” — maybe lure him into that false sense of security."

WILL AEMOND GIVE UP THE THRONE ONCE AEGON RECOVERS?

"Aemond has a multitude of motivations."

"One of them is that he wants to be the war hero, and to be seen as this nigh-unkillable force, very similar to the Rogue Prince, the younger Daemon Targaryen."

"Especially because Aemond wields the largest singular power in Vhagar, with that power comes a great responsibility."

"He has to be seen as someone who can capably control that power."

"It ultimately means that in his mind has to be the person who wins the war for the Greens."

"He’s prepared to do the necessary evil."

"That’s the thing with Aemond, he doesn’t necessarily consider other people’s perspectives in the situation."

"He’s got his own singular vision."

"He sees the world through a very black and white filter."

"You’re either with him or you’re against him, and if you get in his way, he will cut you down."

AEMOND AND DAEMON HAVE SO MANY PARALLELS, BEYOND THEIR NAMES SOUNDING ALMOST IDENTICAL. THEY'RE BOTH SECOND SONS WITH GRANDER POLITICAL AMBITIONS WHO HATE EACH OTHER. WHERE DO YOU SEE THEIR RELATIONSHIP GOING WHEN THEY INEVITABLY MEET BACK UP?

"I think they’d be really good friends in reality."

"Aemond wants to be his uncle, but he also wants to be better than him."

"To achieve that, he has to do more than what he did, which is a tremendous feat in itself."

"So much of Aemond’s costume lends to the idea that he very much idolizes Daemon."

"He’s Daemon’s biggest stan."

"From the Targaryen blacks to the long hair, it’s so reminiscent of a young Rogue Prince."

"It’s a homage to his idol."

"I don’t want to spoil anything, but if those guys end up meeting in a room somewhere, every household object would become a dangerous weapon."

HAVE YOU AND MATT SMITH SPOKEN ABOUT HOW SIMILAR YOUR CHARACTERS ARE?

"One of the first decisions I made on my first shoot day was this idea that I would avoid Matt Smith’s eye contact, and only ever see Daemon."

"I was a big fan of “Doctor Who” growing up, and Matt Smith was such an electricity and a useful vibrancy that was a lot more accessible for a young kid."

"I dreamt of going on adventures with him, very similar to how Aemond would probably dream about going on adventures with his idol."

"So I thought there was something interesting in keeping Matt Smith on the podium, keeping Daemon Targaryen on that platform, so long as he was OK with it and Ryan Condal, our showrunner, was OK with it."

"That was definitely the direction that I wanted to go."

"I wanted to save that eye contact for a very particular moment in Season 1, where these characters finally come face to face at the banquet table and save the eye contact for that moment."

"It was just pure electricity in the room, to only ever see Daemon and to not see Matt."

"If you can keep those same relationships off of set that your characters have on set, it can pay off in tremendous dividends."

WHAT WOULD AEMOND BE LIKE IF HE HADN'T LOST HIS EYE WHEN HE WAS A CHILD?

"From losing his eye, he’s in a very different place physically and psychologically between Episodes 7 and 8 of Season 1."

"He’s developed himself into a weapon."

"I think about a line from M. Night Shyamalan’s “Split” in that “the broken are the more evolved.”

"Because he had his eye taken out, and was harmed and neglected for years as a child, he thought, — “I’m never going to get hurt like that ever again."

"I’m going to train with Criston Cole relentlessly and temper myself into a lethal weapon.”

"If he didn’t lose his eye, maybe he’d be a maester."

"I think he’d be a maester in the Grand Sept in Oldtown."

"But he would still have Vhagar."

"You could argue that if he didn’t claim Vhagar, he wouldn’t have lost his eye, maybe."

"That’s one of the really cool things about the show, tracing back to when the actual Dance of the Dragons started."

"You could say it was when Aemond killed Lucerys in the skies above Storm’s End, or when Lucerys took Aemond’s eye — or when Lucerys and Aegon brought the Pink Dread pig out, and bullied him relentlessly."

"It’s a very gray area, and that’s what I find really compelling."

WHEN I SPOKE WITH DIRECTOR GEETA PATEL, SHE SAID THAT AEMOND HAS SOME "MOMMY ISSUES" AND THAT'S WHY HE HAS A CLOSE RELATIONSHIP WITH VHAGAR, THE OLDEST FEMALE DRAGON, AND THE MADAM AT THE BROTHEL. DO YOU AGREE WITH THAT?

"I don’t know if he has mother issues."

"He just wanted to be loved by his mom a little bit more; he never really had that."

"He’s the spare son, and felt like he should have been treated as the first."

"He felt like he had to find surrogates in other areas, like this dragon."

"He found it in the madam, but are they enough? Kids need that unconditional love to develop a balanced view of themselves."

"If a child isn’t embraced by the village, they’ll burn it down to feel its warmth."

"Aemond’s going to seek validation through other means, and through war."

"Ultimately, one of the other driving factors Aemond is he wants his mom, that thing he’s always craved."

"He wants her affection."

"I don’t think there was anything more Aemond wanted at the end of Episode 10 of Season 1 than to just be held by his mom, and he wanted to say: — “I’m sorry. I messed up. I made a mistake. I let my emotions get the better of me.”

"He possesses this code that stops him from doing that."

"He must be seen as this nigh-unkillable, Terminator-like figure who doesn’t feel anything because love is weakness, and “weak” isn’t in Aemond’s vocabulary.

[dotthings]

"Open to interpretation" does not mean you get to tell Destiel shippers how to see the canon, Karen

After the spntwit drama this week I think it matters to emphasize again how hard the antidestiel hatedom was going against how Jensen rolls when it comes to interpretation.

antidestiels continue to behave as if they believe "open to interpretation" means they themselves can dictate to other fans how to see the canon, and they call Destiel shippers and Misha "disgusting" just for speaking our viewpoints of the canon.

Destiel shippers give our take on the text and antis go "well you can't because JENSEN SAID--"

They very obviously do not listen to what Jensen says. Here is Jensen at Dencon 2021, where he pretty much clears the runway for fans to interpret however we please and his praise and appreciation for those readings: “This is the great thing about the show and I think the relationships and some of these characters is that they’re open for interpretation. If you find identity in a character because of whatever reason, fantastic! Great! If that encourages you to be a better person, or to love someone a little harder, to forgive someone for something, fantastic. That’s—that’s I think that’s one of the beautiful things about what we do is that we get to encourage people on a variety of levels.” -Jensen Ackles, DenCon October 2021

(Antis: But you CAN'T, because JENSEN SAID--)

Antis are stuck in a loop of their own making.

This is not the first time Jensen has conveyed his support for fan interpretation.

Jibcon 2015:

We also know from reports from a virtual m&g a short while after SPN ended that Jensen said he and Misha talked about the confession scene beforehand, and they "didn't want to over-define it" and "the artist isn't going to stand next to that piece of art and tell you what to see. You should be able to see, and it should be able to mean what it means to you and that's--that's the beautiful thing about art." (There is no video, this is pulled from fan reports, but as far as we know this is accurate reporting).

Antis: but you can't because Jensen SAID--

blah blah blah

Yes we can and it's not that we need Jensen's--or anyone's permission--however it's just so heinous how severely antidestiels stomp all over Jensen's respectfulness and protection of fan readings and his appreciation of that, and their lying about how he rolls. They are making very negative insinuations of him, yet somehow everyone else in fandom is the problem but them.

It doesn't add up.

"But you can't say Destiel is real and there was queer coding because JENSEN SAID--"

But Jensen said he's completely cool with how we see it.

He said so.

I have a permit. Jensen signed it. See?

Get over it. Find a new hobby. Move along.

A further thing--note my highlighting on excerpts from an interview with Jensen Ackles about Big Sky concerning the Beau/Jenny relationship. (TV Insider, 1.18.2023)

The phrasing should sound familiar.

Yes, that's right, he's used similar language to speak about Dean and Cas. And this is for a het ship.

"leave the audience wanting more" "we gave just a little bit" "but do we need to play it out in a graphic sex scene?" "a kiss wasn't necessarily needed" "let's tiptoe for now" "fired it up in a way that made it not so sexual...two humans really, truly connecting. It wasn't just like, oh, let's rip each other's clothes off."

Put that next to "I don’t think lust is involved with the romanticism" "there's some people that might try to sexualize that" "it was two sentient beings essentially" (Dencon 2021, Vancon 2022)

Isn't that interesting. (Also isn't it interesting he called it "romanticism"?)

Jensen also said something somewhere about how he would like to do a romantic comedy so long as it involves killing zombies. He doesn't hate romance. It's just that he likes genre and action stuff. He's not against, whether it's queer or straight romances.

He's also said he'd like to do a rom-com slash western playing opposite Misha Collins.

Not telling Destiel shippers what to do, but along with antidestiel misinformation spread, the Destiel lane is justly notorious for flinging accusations at him and I think it's relevant that he speaks about a het ship using similar language, and it's relevant how supportive he is of queer readings.

one last thing, this is old, from Jensen's time on Days of our Lives, but he wasn't against playing a queer character.

[greatestrival]

Yuki Tsunoda: 10 Things I Love for GP RACING MAGAZINE APRIL 2024 ISSUE

scanned by me (please credit if you repost lmao these took so loooong)

text under the cut

10 THINGS I LOVE

RB's Japanese racer on his love of saunas, good coffee and - well, food, of course

Fashion

I like fashion. I like to choose my outfit according to my mood or where I'm going. And I like to show my colours, if you like. In short, it feels good to look good.

Food

There's no particular cuisine I like, but for me a good meal is a kind of tool to reduce stress and feel happier. It doesn't matter what kind of food it is - if it's good, I enjoy it, whether it's tacos or sushi. I really like pasta. When I'm in Italy that's what I usually eat. But it's important for me, wherever we go, to find a good restaurant so I can enjoy the food. Because in a way, as strange as it may sound, it gives me the same feeling as driving a Formula 1 car. When I drive, I just concentrate on that. It's not that I don't think - of course I do, especially during the race - but when it comes to driving, it's more about the senses than thoughts. When I'm driving I don't think about anything else. And it's almost the same with food. You just enjoy the taste and flavour - and I really like that!

Nature

We travel a lot and are surrounded by electronics and computers, Laptops, telemetry, data is our world - and sometimes it's just too much. So I like to get away from it all, to go hiking, for example, or just get out into nature and experience a different environment to Formula 1.

Jason Statham

Definitely my favourite actor, especially after meeting him in Abu Dhabi last year. I've always liked his films and Transporter is my favourite - but sometimes when you meet your hero and get to know the person better, you can be disappointed, can't you? It wasn't like that with Jason. He is such a great guy, really nice, talkative, very respectful and really, really strong! He's got everything you need. He's strong, he looks cool, he's bald. I might go bald in the future to look more like him...

Singing

I'm not the one who sings in the shower, but I do sing in the car. I just feel like it, to feel the rhythm, to have fun. And when I'm singing, I feel like a real singer.

Saunas

It's something I like to use to reset. 20 minutes in the sauna, then a cold shower and lying down - at that moment I feel like I'm in space. And it is an incredible feeling. It feels like your body is resetting itself. It feels like all the stress I have, it just comes out with the sweat, so after the sauna I feel fresh. Like a brand new me. It's funny, I didn't really like it before, but my friends kept telling me how great it was. So one day I just decided to give it another try and finally understood what they were talking about. Now it's one of my favourite things to do: just go to the sauna and relax.

Coffee

I have a good coffee machine at home. I like to grind coffee beans in the morning and make myself a good cup of coffee. Good coffee makes my day.

Wine

I don't drink alcohol very often, to be honest. And I'm not a guy who knows a lot about wine, about different types and varieties of wine. I'm not an expert, if you like. But it's nice to have a glass of wine with good food. It helps you enjoy it even more

Apex Legends

I used to play a lot more when I moved to Europe from Japan - and Apex Legends was my favourite game. I don't play as much now, but during my junior career it was a way to keep in touch with my friends in Japan because we were so far apart. Of course you can call and chat, but doing something together, playing and talking at the same time, is a lot more fun.

Football

I sometimes play football with the mechanics, engineers and other guys from the team in Faenza. And I love it. Because first of all I like the game itself, but then it's also good to hang out with the guys from the team - especially considering that it's usually the guys who don't go to races and stay at the factory, so it's also a good opportunity to bond with them.

[triglycercule]

in a just kidding kinda mood. canon nightmare is so serious and then i made her. she's a total dweeb she thinks that she's allat just because she ate a black (rotten) apple once and it was so bad she thinks she she's a goopy monster. that's not actually how she got to this (she got bullied in elementary school and wants to express her true self now in high school) but the black apple was involved (she ate a rotten apple and it was so bad she remembered her embarrassing elementary school fantasy and realized she liked it).

she's totally goth but she doesn't realize it (and i CANNOT be bothered to draw a goth esque outfit combined with the jk uniform). the book club is her headquarters and whoever joins the club becomes part of her gang (friends! because she's terrible at socializing and this is a way of being more outgoing) and then they have to do usual stuff goons do like helping nightmare study for tests (so she can further her insatiable quest for knowledge) and going to the mall with her (carrying her bags obviously. a queen cant be seen with shopping bags.) her goons MUST call her lady night or else she'll get upset. god jk!nightmare you're such a goddamn loser how many more dumb ideas can i come with for you

comments from..... oeople??? here's dream. they're on good terms because i hate dreamtale angst and i want them to be happy and healthy siblings. nightmare also uses her gang to moniter dream and make sure she's not getting in trouble. but then she also gets to play villian with dream where dream is the damsel in distress. or the hero. depends!

"well, one day nighty just came downstairs for breakfast dressed like... that. she spoke in a different way and acted different and especially looked different. needless to say, the family and i were confused."

"but, after she explained it, it actually made a surprising amount of sense despite the... change. nighty used to get bullied back in our old elementary school, and she claims that now that we're in high school, she wants to "embrace the true self that's been whispering pleas of freedom". er... whatever that means."

"of course i support it, she's my sister and all! i'd even say this persona of nightmare's is much funnier to interact with, and she's even made some friends thanks to her new self of the sort. honestly, as her sister? i couldn't be more happy to see nightmare thriving compared to before."

"but my only concern... is her makeup safe for long-term use?"

all of the mtt (most of the school actually) did NOT fall for the little act nightmare's putting up. even killer. no matter how brainrotted she is from the internet even she wouldn't fall for that. nightmare invited them to the gang (club) and both killer and dust were on board to join. because killer found her funny and dust likes books. and then horror was dragged along because of course she was. live laugh love jk!mtt

"nightmare?? oh, you mean lady night! yeah, i know her. pretty well, in fact~ she's appointed me as her right hand woman, which means i get to do all sorts of cool things, like coming up with literature recommendations and organizing when the gang meets up! she's pretty cool, y'know? i just gotta make sure to stop laughing whenever she calls me a "goon", hehe..."

"nightmare's nice. she likes reading, i like reading, so obviously i had to join the gang. she likes more fantasy style stuff, but i prefer sci-fi. not that big of a deal though, considering we read a variety of books in the clu- i mean, her "gang". sorry. don't tell her i said that, or else i'll be sent on a "mission" to "battle her homework" or whatever."

"oh, "lady night", "queen of negativity"... she's hilarious. it's so funny seeing her act like she has magical powers and all the yada yada about "the black apple" and "multiversal conquering". i mean, not many people in the school really believe her little schtick she's got going on, but most humor her. 'sides, she's a genuinely good person under all that makeup and acting anyways, so i like her. all i wanna know is, why does she keep her shoelaces untied?"

this idea is SO DUMB IM DYING. feared multiversal terror turned into a high school girl with the worlds most EMBARRASSING delusion. what universe are we in (the jk!universe dummy!). anyways dream design in the works (i already have the design done just need to color it!) and then quite possibly more aus will be jk-fied. ink may possibly be the first sans to NOT wear a skirt. who know,,,,s,,,,,,

[theamityelf]

Which Soulmate AU is the Best One For These Makoto Ships?

(in my all-too-flexible opinion)

In no particular order, and this isn't a complete list.

Kamuegi: Soulmate marks, in which people are born with a mark that symbolically indicates who their soulmate is. I want this for them because I want Hajime's mark to have been surgically removed during the Kamukura Project. If Izuru got a new soul mark (which has larger implications about their identities as discrete humans; I'm amenable to both arguments, so I'm cool with Izuru not manifesting his own mark, but if he's inherently a separate person then he does get a new mark as soon as he's "born"), then that was probably also removed surgically, and he never got to see it. He's made to figure out that Makoto is his soulmate without help from a mark, and maybe retroactively he finds out what his and Hajime's soulmate marks were by looking through his own records and he sees that they both pointed to Makoto. But that's not until after they're already together. And in my mind, Makoto has a soulmate mark but has no clue what it means, but the moment Izuru sees it, he fully understands that it means him. (Of course, he doesn't see Makoto's mark until they've already had either a platonic or romantic relationship for a while. Either seeing Makoto's mark is what makes Izuru understand the romantic nature of feelings he's been having, or they're already dating and it's just a comforting confirmation. Maybe he's even been consciously jealous of the idea that Makoto has a soulmate out there who Izuru doesn't believe will appreciate him as much as he does. Maybe he's thinking, "If his soulmate comes to claim him, I simply won't let them." Or maybe he's dreading the day the person who will make Makoto the happiest comes and steals him away.

Naegami: Color sight, where you only start to see in color after you meet your soulmate. Almost opposite of what I want for Izuru; this AU shows Byakuya an objective means of learning that Makoto is his soulmate, so that any denial or tsun behavior he exhibits toward him is predicated on the objective fact that they are soulmates. Maybe, for fun, make it a gradual thing, where when you first see them you get one color and then more colors get added in over time as you spend more time with them. This means that he could feasibly be in denial at first; he gets the first color at orientation, and it could be any of his classmates; the fact that he keeps getting new colors after talking with Makoto could be a coincidence or a misread of the cause and effect. (Okay, Byakuya, then who in your class would you rather it be? Um...) It also means that Byakuya could be purely self-serving about spending time with Makoto at first. "I'm only talking to you to get more colors. I have no interest in being your soulmate." But they're talking and forming a connection the whole time. This only applies to their school days; in the killing game, they just wake up already having color sight and have to contend with why that is.

Naegiri: Dream sharing or dreaming each other's dreams. I think Kyoko would really enjoy having that kind of insight into her soulmate's life, fears, and character, and Makoto would, too. They would know they're each other's soulmates either as soon as or shortly after meeting each other. They've been having each other's dreams their entire life. Obligatory drama potential- in the killing game, Kyoko's returning memories are in Makoto's dreams instead of hers, and vice versa. So he's able to give her information about herself that she doesn't have, which really aggravates her disinclination to trust others. Meanwhile, when she learns something about him through his dreams, she might keep it to herself for the sake of putting together the puzzle.

Komaegi: I think the countdown clock until you meet your soulmate variety. I think it would be really poignant if, while in mortal peril, Nagito can see the countdown telling him that he'll meet his soulmate in five years, or ten years. He's thinking, "I probably won't even survive to meet them," or he's thinking, "Does this mean I survive to meet them?" etc. He gets the letter from Hope's Peak, and the math says that he meets his soulmate while attending Hope's Peak- but not in his first year. Part of him hopes it'll be an Ultimate, but he meets Makoto at the end of the timer and he's like "Oh, that makes sense. That's the most I deserve," and goes a near Mr. Darcy route of backhanded love confession. He's not trying to be mean, but there will be some stuff he says that he has to walk back later in order for their friendship to progress. And then when the killing game happens, his soulmate is named the Ultimate Hope! The reaction this could unlock in him!

Naenami: I'm saying soulmate mark again, because it would be cute if Makoto was born with, like, Yoshi on his arm or something. Chiaki would be excited in just the "guy wearing a t-shirt of the thing you like" sense, not even taking it as a soulmate mark for her specifically. Maybe she's like, "You're so lucky! My soulmate mark is a banana peel." And Makoto laughs, like, "What could that mean?"

Naezono: Also soulmate mark, because I want Sayaka's to be a crane. Means that when she saw Makoto do the crane thing in middle school, she knew then that he was her soulmate, but she still didn't approach him. I'm going to say Makoto's mark is more vague, so he doesn't know she's his soulmate until well into their friendship at Hope's Peak.

Naekusaba: Okay, I'm not specific on the mechanics of this one, but some variation of feeling one's soulmate's pain or anything that scars them scars you instead. Something to kind of play with her not having been marked at all by her time with Fenrir. Maybe it's just that she feels his pain, so he trips a bunch and she's just like "What on earth is going on with my soulmate?" while she tears up a battlefield without a scratch, or maybe any injury that should mark him marks her and vice versa, so that people think "Oh man, the soulmate to the best Fenrir fighter ever must be super scarred," and he's completely fine, whereas she's got various scrapes and marks from Makoto's years of bad luck. Idk, there's something there. This would mean the logistics of the Fenrir tattoo need further thought. The ink is still given to her, so she's still the one with the tattoo, but any temporary scarring or inflammation goes to him? Idk, this one isn't well thought out, lol.

Naejunko: Oh, either dream sharing or seeing through each other's eyes. Some psychic link thing where they get the POV of being each other. Are you kidding?! The drama! Makoto zones out in class and sees his soulmate straight up torturing someone, and he's horrified and scared. Junko dozes off on a plane or starts daydreaming during a photo shoot and sees her soulmate having a nice time with his cute family and just gets so excited about the idea of ruining everything in his life. Maybe they can feel each other watching! Maybe they're children and Makoto realizes, in the middle of doing his homework, that his soulmate is watching, and he writes Please don't be mean to your sister anymore in the margins and then erases it (This part is dark, but maybe in response Junko writes his name on Mukuro's skin with a knife or something.), or maybe Junko realizes, in the middle of doing something horrible, that Makoto is watching, and she kicks it up several notches to perform for him.

[alexanderlightweight]

Hey lumine! I hope all is well and that you're getting over the post-plague funk- I know being sick is the absolute worst.

If you happen to be taking prompts today (and totally cool if not!) I would love to see if you're interested in tangling with a continuation of either the bitter trap of truth or the craft of adoration.

For the first one, I ADORE the way Cat and Ragnor in your last piece were observing Alec so casually giving priceless nephilim intelligence to them while so clearly displaying his trust in Magnus alskjfda;lsdfjasdfadsf. so good and happy and all my favorite things with Alec happily surrendering to Magnus and being his BAMF-y self while doing so and even the utter delight of outside POV!

For the second, if that AU floats your fancy higher, my brain is just utterly stuck on that line where Magnus asks Alec to come to him at dawn because he wants his people to see Alec coming to his call, coming to heel if you will. I would be drowning in glee (to continue the watery metaphors) to see how your wonderful imagination would envision that scene occurring and what Magnus (and Magnus' people!) would think of Alec acquiescing to Magnus' request.

Hope you feel better!

the prompts themselves are compliments and incredible sweet s thank you Laws!

I realize it was a different day that this was sent but I dont remember which day and tbh, today is a good day! Mostly over the cold and my leg is finally aching less enough to think.

no outsider pov in this one, but a bit more of cat and ragnor and the magnificent team immortal because i love them and they need to be more heavily involved in this fic for a variety of reasons.

need to take @saryn-prime to a health appointment and then i'll be back to settle in and write more.

i ened up really feeling the bitter trap of truth today and its been on my mind for days and my fingers have been aching to write it. hope you enjoy and are doing well!

<3 lumine

-

It’s past noon when Magnus’ wards flare and he leaves Alexander where he is, splayed out across the bed and face burrowed into a pillow. It’s been enough time that Catarina and Ragnor’s visit can only mean one thing.

Magnus will finally have his answer.

If he was wise to trust Alexander or if his boy has so easily betrayed him.

Alexander won’t face punishment from the warlocks.

Even if he’s played them, it’s one of his own people who have died and Magnus already knows that the Clave won’t punish him for it. If anything, they’ll reward him for ensuring that

But Magnus’ heart will still ache at being tricked.

Neither of his dear companions are in his apothecary, instead they are practically relaxed. Well, as relaxed as they can be when exhaustion haunts their visage. Catarina is splayed out on the sofa and Ragnor has nearly melted into his favorite armchair, pipe puffing peacefully away as Catarina summons three drinks.

“A toast!” She offers and her soft smile nearly breaks Magnus.

She wouldn’t be smiling or toasting if she brought ill news.

“It worked?” He asks, even thought he knows it has to have. But years of agonizing betrayal make him ask, he has to know.

“It’s as if she were never ill.” Catarina confirms and her eyes gleam with mocking humor. “I’ve never seen someone so mortified and furious to be saved.”

“It should also be noted that she’s of a much lower rank than your shadowhunter.” Ragnor gives a quiet sigh and blows out a ring of smoke. “I rather doubt she even knew what the poison would do beyond killing her and striking a blow to the downworld. She seemed utterly shocked that we managed to find an antidote.”

“Did you tell them how we managed?”

“And risk them finding even more obscure poisons?” Cat laughs and shakes her head. “No, let them think I somehow found an antidote. If they knew the treasure trove of willing information your boy is, well…”

She trails off with an apologetic shrug and Magnus just nods. Cat’s not wrong. If anything, she’s being generous with how delicate she’s being. It also means that Magnus is going to have to be very careful with who he shares information about Alec with.

The Council would no doubt want to interrogate him for all the answers he would be able to give, but Magnus would rather play the long game. Alexander is unique, in more ways than one and while he doubts that his hunter would dare lie before the Elders, he also doesn’t want more attention drawn to him.

Not before Magnus is completely sure.

Magnus’ heart has been wounded too many times for this one action to convince him, but it has done what he hoped.

Catarina and Ragnor are both now willing to give Alexander a chance, a real chance and that is worth more to Magnus than anything else.

— Alec is beginning to think that he’s never going to wake up with Magnus wrapped around him, or wrapped around Magnus. Every time he thinks he’s going to be able to enjoy sunlight and warm, bare skin and golden eyes, something comes up.

Alec is almost ready to just haul Magnus back to bed, but he doesn’t think they’re quite there yet.

It’s with careful consideration that he bites his lip hard enough to bleed. Instantly, the nearly scalding feeling of Magnus’ blood working through his veins lights up. He enjoy it for a few seconds as it heals the damage and then its gone… and no Magnus appears after it.

Alec follows the tug of his bond with Magnus, teeth playing with his lip — which burns in admonishment — and finds himself holding back a soft chuckle. Magnus’ friend Ragnor — someone who Alec knows is a highly revered potion master — is asleep in an armchair. He’s blowing smoke rings as he snores and Magnus and Catarina — who Alec knows is an incredibly talented and powerful healer — are splayed out together on the couch.

Magnus appears to be trying to give her a foot massage, but she’s asleep and his eyes are slipping shut, head nodding forward.

Alec huffs another silent breath of laughter and — with all the skill that he was once taught in order to be a better killer — collects several of Magnus’ extravagant throws.

Because Alec is nothing if not petty, he very carefully lays the cabbage green monstrosity of a tartan throw on Ragnor. Careful not to get close enough that the warlock wakes and thinks it an attack and then settles the large umber blanket over Catarina and Magnus both.

While he’s careful not to touch either of Magnus’ friends, he can’t help but settle a pillow under Magnus head and smooths the hair falling into his eyes away.

It’s a gentle, whisper of a kiss that he presses to Magnus’ hair and then he grabs the book he’d left on the table the night before.

As he settles on the floor next to Magnus, resting his head on Magnus’ leg and being careful to stay out of range of Catarina — he doesn’t know her after all — a glimpse of movement catches his attention.

Ragnor’s eyes meet his and Alec just nods, simple and acknowledging and then he opens the book he grabbed and settles in. If Magnus didn’t want him around his friends when they’re vulnerable then the magic of the loft wouldn’t have let him in.

The blankets probably aren’t necessary, but Alec is Magnus’ husband now. And while Alec is still figuring out his new position in life he does know how to take care of people. Mostly his soldiers and his siblings but still, if he softens his touch a bit, he’s sure he’ll manage just find at taking care of Magnus and his friends.

If this — being allowed in the same room as three vulnerable warlocks — is another sign that Magnus is trusting him, well then Alec is going to take full advantage of it.

While also not giving Magnus any reason to doubt him.

[joonlaksme]

Sign Here: Chapter Four

Sign Here Masterlist

Summary: All of Min Yoongi’s partners never knew what he truly wanted. Too scared to tell them to their face, he decides to just invest into a professional. He didn’t know you were exactly what he was looking for.

Pairing: Min Yoongi X Reader

-> Genre: Yoongi x Dominatrix!reader, Smut

-> Warnings for this chapter: Breath play, handjob, Yoongi gets a little manhandle-y, semi-public stuff (briefly), masochist Yoongi, edging (m), aftercare

-> Word Count: 4,400+

A/N: After months of being in a stump, I’m FINALLY back!! Thanks for waiting and enjoy :D

Chapter 4: Maroon

Taking a break has never felt so stressful before. You sit down, an extended sigh resting hot on your lips and you feel the faux leather clinging to your thighs. With it getting hotter and hotter outside, humidity enters your older apartment through cracks in the balcony doors and no matter how often you shower, you can’t seem to get the sticky feeling off of you. 

“Maybe we should eat something cold.” Mi-na interrupts your thoughts.

You lean forward and place your elbows on your kitchen island, marble feeling nice and cool on your skin. Kyung Mi-na has been your best friend ever since your shared second year of college where she became your new roommate. A cute 5’2 with pretty black hair and an even amber complexion. No one would think she had the same job as you considering her sweet appearance but she was the one who had gotten you into BDSM. 

Your fingers feel around the plastic-y texture of the stool, a deep maroon color. It jogs your memory to check your bathtub later. 

“What are you in the mood for, hm? Eggs? A muffin?” She opens your off-white fridge and rummages through it. There really isn’t much in there but you can see she’s smiling ear to ear, tapping her fingers on the fridge door and standing on the tips of her toes. You often wonder why she’s always in a good mood but you suppose you don’t always need a reason to be happy. Maybe she’s feeling content because nothing wrong has happened. Right now, at 9 in the morning, you want to complain and then stew in your pot of thoughts. You have a meeting planned with Yoongi and you have no idea what should be on the agenda. Of course you have a great variety of ideas but not specifically for someone who’s more of a beginner like Yoongi. You even think you went a little hardcore on him in your most recent session.

“Can I just get some tea for now?” You finally reply.

Mi-na tilts her head but turns around to turn on the electric kettle. “What’s on your mind?”

Of course you can never keep anything away from her. She majored in psychology and she was always the top of her class. 

She’s subtly shaking her hips to the blasting music of an apartment down the hall. You gave up on trying to complain about them for a while now.

You’re distracted from the task at hand. 

“Well, remember I was talking about my new client?” 

She nods, “The one you said you were worried about because he was a total beginner? I told you that you should have just offered me. I know you’re uncomfortable with beginners.”

“Based on what he filled out on the form, I was fully expecting him to have experience. You should’ve seen him, Mi-na. He doesn’t look submissive in the slightest. I thought he was joking at first.”

Mi-na scoffed, “There goes you and your drawing to conclusions. So, what’s the issue?”

“I don’t know where to go from here to be fully honest.” And then you tell her what you HAVE done, assuming she can work from there.

She takes out a cup from your cabinet and pours out hot water, plopping a teabag in it and looks you in your eyes. “Hm…why don’t you touch him properly? Beginners feel better when something more familiar is implemented in play. I’m sure you can work your way from there, you know. I think that once you are both comfortable, you can start implementing the things you like to do like shibari, general bondage, sensory deprivation, edging, all of that.” 

You nod. Of course. You have to be the more confident one in this relationship. After all, he is the one paying you for it. 

“So what made him stand out?”

“What do you mean?” You reply, eyebrows knitting.

She lets out a short laugh, “C’mon. You never talk to me about your clients. I was a bit surprised by how much you talked about and described this new guy.”

“Like I said, you have to see him to understand where I’m from. He’s this guy with a composed look, stylish, tattoos all down his arms–”

“So? You’ve had hardcore bikers and models under you. What makes him different?”

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek. You knew exactly what made him different. You just don’t want to admit it to Mi-na just yet. Instead, you’re fiddling with the tail end of your tea bag, watching the water turn into a deeper red color.

-

When Mi-na leaves, you make your way to your bathtub. Walking into there is a bit of a pain nowadays since water covers the tiled floor and you’ve constantly found yourself too sluggish to lay a bunch of towels down. There, plunge your hands into the dark red water of the tub. You pull out the bunch of ropes you had just bought, feeling the texture on your fingers and then you drain the water, rinsing out the excess dye. You pull it out of the tub finally, the water making it a bit heavier and then you loosely coiled it on a specially made drying rack. 

-

Then, here you were, standing in your closet and deciding what heels would be best for tonight. Something more comfortable or something more sexy? Why is this something you’ve been deciding on for as long as you have? You barely have an hour left and you’re thinking so critically about which shoe to wear on your next meeting. Something tells you that you need to keep your mind on what’s important: Keeping Min Yoongi satisfied. 

So you pick a simple pair of black heels with comfortable soles and make your way out your front door. 

When you arrive at the restaurant, you arrive 10 minutes earlier than you should be. You tell the host about your specific and private reservation. This is a place more familiar with your line of work and more specifically, in a collaboration with the company you work under. So, it’s no surprise when you’re led to a luxurious booth covered with maroon velvet seats and with foldable panels, separating you from the rest of the public. Here, there’s menus with small and fancy writing and no price next to the variety. There’s cherry blossoms decorating the walls and a dim but warm light hanging from the top. 

You’re sitting close to the kitchen so you can smell all different varieties of aromas from food that vary from pasta to creamy sauces. You haven’t been here in a long time so you were looking forward to this. 

Speaking of looking forward to something, that’s when Yoongi takes the corner and sees you sitting there with crossed legs and the small wave of your manicured nails. He takes a seat at the booth across from you, looking how he always does: calm and collected. 

“I’m glad you found the place alright. I know the further you get to the back, the harder it is to navigate. The host and hostess often don’t come back here...” You start, trailing off. You’re looking at him with a piercing stare because he looks good enough to eat. His sleeves are rolled up and one button is down in a normal, white button-up shirt. His belt really shows his hips and his suit pants make his legs look nice and slender. Did he dress up just for you? You clear your throat. “How have you been?”

When you look closer, you can see the shade of Yoongi’s ears turn a nice pink and it sparks up your confidence. “I’ve been fine. Just a long day…So…” and he mutters something you can’t hear. It’s obviously aimed towards you by the way he meets your eyes but you can’t quite hear him. 

“Speak up?” 

“I asked…what’s on the agenda for today?”

“After dinner, we’re heading to your place but after that, it’s a surprise. You like surprises don’t you?”

He lets out a scoff, “I do but it takes a lot to surprise me.” 

“Humor me.” You pick up the menu. “I’m paying so choose whatever you’d like.”

His lips twitch a bit, “Aren’t I paying you? Why are you paying?”

You hush him.

You choose one of your favorite things from the menu and as he’s ordering, you pretend to accidentally slide your foot up his leg. He does spring up a bit but he keeps his expression flat. You mutter an apology but don’t bother to try to hide the small smile that creeps up your lips. The waiter seems submerged in every word Yoongi communicates to him. You look back at your menu but in the corner of your eye, you can see his eyes flicker down to your foot that is a bit too close to his side of the table. He doesn’t acknowledge it outloud but his gaze lingers and then he shifts his weight from one leg to the other before finishing his order. Once the waiter leaves, Yoongi places his elbows on the table with raised brows.

“You gonna try anything else here?” He asks. His lips quirk up just for a moment.

“You should take your elbows off the table. That isn’t very proper.”

Instead of answering his actual question, you offer him a small smirk. Your heel is nudging his leg playfully. There’s an anticipation between you two. The sexual tension is becoming thick and as you reach over and grab his hand in yours, you can feel the goosebumps raise on him. He’s nervous when his mind is submerged in possibilities of what your surprise may be and you can read him like a book, even when he’s just giving you a blank expression. 

Your fingers interlock on the table and you think about your first impression of him. He’s looking at you and slowly, you can tell he’s cracking. He takes a deep breath as tension grows and you slide your foot up until it’s resting on his knee. Then it goes back down to the carpeted floor. You want to tease him more. As your foot retreats, his eyes glaze over. Your foot returns to the floor and his gaze snaps back to yours, while you start up a new conversation and you can see the slightest hint of disappointment in his expression. He quickly masks it, however, and clears his throat.

“I think you’re easily surprised. You just choose not to show it to many but…I believe I can wrap you around my fingers.” You say, taking a sip of water.

The waiter returns with a basket of bread and a small dish full of seasoned olive oil for dipping. He leaves quickly after. Yoongi keeps his eyes on you. When he goes for a piece of bread, that’s when you decide to move your leg up until it’s at his inner thigh. His hand stops in mid-air as your foot drags up until it’s touching his crotch. 

“What am I feeling here, hm?”

He swallows hard, his eyes widening slightly as he feels your foot against him. He tries to steady his shaking fingers. "I…uhm…I don't know what you mean."

You press harder and he can’t help the breathy sigh he releases from the sudden pressure. He pushes himself closer. 

“I think you do. I think you have been anticipating something.” Your smile is kind but your tone is sultry, low. He’s having this conflict in his mind between keeping up his facade to keep cool or to give in and beg you to stop your torture. He thinks he can last longer but he’s burning up so he pops open a button. 

Watching him attempt to compose himself is more fun than you expected it to be. His heart even jumps out of his chest when the waiter comes back with your food. That’s when your foot starts moving and he’s feeling so much that he’s getting lightheaded. 

“Maybe we should get this to go? You look a bit tired, Yoongi.”

He presses his lips together. "I'm fine," he manages to say, his voice strained. You can see the vein on his neck popping with the effort of keeping himself under control. It doesn’t last long because as soon as the waiter walks away and there’s steaming plates of food in your faces, he’s holding your hand tighter. “Please?”

You raise your eyebrows and have to clench your legs closed, “I don’t know what you mean?” You echo his words back at him.

“You’re mean.” You can see the way the side of his lips quirk up into a smirk. “Okay, I think we should go.”

So you do. Your untouched food goes in boxes and you send your regards to the owner of the restaurant. When you make it back to Yoongi’s place, you can tell he’s nervous by the way his hands tremble when he brings out his keys to open the door. You lay your hand on his and help steady him. It’s when you start laying light kisses on his neck that he goes weak under your touch. You feel as if you’re sucking his energy from the way he lets out this deep exhale.

The door turns open and he stumbles in with you. His jacket is off and on the floor before you even make it to the living room. His breathes out in short and shallow gasps. His hands make their way in your hair when you find a particular part that gets him rowdy and suck on it. His back meets the couch and his knees buckle. 

He gets confused you don’t come down with him. You don’t bother to fix your hair but you take off your own jacket slowly and get his remote from the coffee table. 

“What should we watch…?” You’re acting as if nothing happened just a couple of seconds ago and as if he’s not half hard in his pants. 

He whimpers your name to get your attention. You turn to look at him and sit down right beside him. Just by the way you look at him, he know you’re not going to give in until he does first and if there’s anything Yoongi is confident about, it’s his stubbornness. So he gives you a movie recommendation and then you lean back and watch it together. 

However, as much as Yoongi wants to calm down, he can’t stop looking at you. You’re dressed like the goal was to tempt him and he’s wondering if this torture was his surprise. The movie begins, but Yoongi's eyes are not on the screen. He’s taking in every detail of your appearance. Your outfit, while it looks comfortable, leaves little to the imagination and Yoongi can't help but feel himself getting more and more worked up as the minutes pass by. He can’t stop shuffling by the time half an hour goes by.

His hand lands on your thigh to your surprise. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

His lips are shut but his eyes are begging. 

“That’s not exactly what I want and you know that…” You move his hand away with little regard for where it goes. 

You look away but it’s quick when he takes hold of your waist. You’re on his lap almost immediately and you’re caught off guard for a just a moment. 

“I thought we were going to watch a movie but you just can’t hold yourself back, hm? If you’re having so much trouble focusing, maybe we can do something else?” You guess he can win this time.

He stopped himself from eagerly nodding, “That would be nice…” He mumbles back.

You lean closer to him and grab his wrists, holding them together up above his head.  While that hand is holding his arms away from touching you again, the other unzips his pants. 

“Is this your surprise?” He lays his head back with a huff. 

You pull out his cock, twitching in your palm. As you begin to stroke him, you start talking. “Let’s set some rules. I want you to last until I say you can. No touching and think about your behavior. I think that if you were more avid, I would be nicer.”

He finally lets out a full blown groan, the same sound reverberating down your body and all along your skin. For as long as he’s had this boner, he’s so sensitive.

“I don’t know how long I can l-last for.” He thrusts into your hand. 

“C’mon playboy…” You let go of his arms and instead grip his jaw. The way you’re treating him has him submerged into what feels like paradise. He feels as if he’s been placed in a place where he does not have to think about anything but you and the way you skillfully make him feel. “You don’t last and there’s going to be an issue, understood?” Your voice is raised just a bit. He’s hesitant to admit that your voice turns him on in itself.

“Yes…” He replies with, hands lowering to take handfuls of his couch as you continue to stroke him at the same torturous pace. 

“Yes, who?” Your grip tightens.

He moans out a blended mess of, “Yes mistress.”

You smirk at his response, “Better.” You’re pleased with his obedience so as a little reward, you lean close to his ear and the heat of your breath causes shivers to run down his body. If there’s anything that Yoongi has learned in your sessions, it’s that he’s definitely more submissive than he ever was dominant. He’s never felt so embarrassed about how he might cum soon if he doesn’t think of something else before and sure, pussy feels good but when he’s been edged for what feels like centuries, he gets desperate. He likes seeing how satistsfied you are, how much you feel from making him feel good. 

You turn him to lay down on the couch just like how it was before when you discovered his seriously sensitive nipples. Only, this time, youre sitting on his face in a pencil skirt. Coming to a conclusion that he feels the most satistisfied when you are, it’s now a new torture to feel you stroking his cock while you’re needy and shuffling on his face. You gather saliva up in the cheeks of your mouth and spit a glop on your hand, using that to  guide your hand in a more slick handjob.

His words and sounds are muffled under your skirt. His mind drifts off to when you made him cum before without even touching his dick.  

“Hm?” You ask him, leaning off of his face for a moment.

“Can I…”

 "Can you what?"

Yoongi swallows hard, his face flushed beneath your skirt. "Can I taste you?" He asks softly, pleading you for permission.

You think for a moment, considering his request. You know how wet you are right now but…“No. You can’t.”

“Please?” He’s getting whiny, out of his typical deadpan character. 

Watching him beg only makes you want to get more mean, more cruel. You finally quicken your pace and instead of answering him with another denial, you sit back down on his face, only with more pressure and he’s damn near suffocating under it. All he can breathe in is the smell of your arousal and feel the limit of how much air his lungs can take. There’s some breathability when you open your legs but sometimes you shut them and practically suffocate him with your thighs. He’s way too into it and he twitches in your hand like crazy. It’s invigorating and pretty soon, he’s getting louder under your skirt. Every once in a while, you lift off of him to give him one big breath before he’s back. 

So it’s a wonder with all the air you give him, why he grabs onto your hips when you explicitly told him not to.

You let go of his dick, wetly hitting his stomach and you lift yourself up again. There’s a mix of amusement and annoyance in your tone and even in your expression, “Didn’t I tell you not to touch me?” Your voice is cold and now, Yoongi can feel it. He can feel a slither of fear run down him and it does nothing but fuel his fantasies and increase his desire for you. He’s gotten himself enamered with you by now. If you react this way, he’s thinking that maybe he should do it more often; acting out and seeing how you punish him. 

“‘M sorry…” He apologizes but any one would be able to tell that it was lackluster, pathetic. 

So he admits he’s surprised when you land a slap on his dick. He thrusts up but is confused why. It burns at first but the shock of pleasure is addicting. His fingers are tingling and his brain is clouded. “Fuck–I’m sorry…” He says it again but it’s even weaker than the first one. It’s not on purpose though, he just can’t think straight anymore. 

You slap it again and the moan he lets out is damn near angelic. If you weren’t wet before, you definitely are now and it threatens to soak through your skirt if it’s already through your underwear. “Oh…seems like you’re more of a masochist than I thought you were. You’re getting off to this, aren’t you?”

He shivers under your touch once you take his dick in your hand again. A mix of pleasure and pain courses through his body and before he can open his mouth and admit it, a moan comes out instead, gushing pre-cum as you slap it once more. 

“I’m–I’m gonna cum.” And he says your name with such a shaky breath that you actually think he’s scared to cum.

“No, you aren’t.” You state matter-of-factly. “You’re gonna hold it for me and make up for your mistakes, aren’t you Min Yoongi?”

He whimpers but nods. There’s pressure building up in the pit of his stomach, the need to release almost unbearable but he doesn’t want to disobey you even more. 

You lean back down so he can tell there’s new arousal, thick and heavier than before. “Good boy,” You whisper.

You can feel his chest vibrate at his groan. After multiple sessions, of course you could tell he liked praise and you found it amusing how much it affected him.  

His words are muffled but he gets more and more despreate as you stroke him harder, tighter, faster. His tip is this bright and pretty shade of pink from your treatment. The last thing on your mind at this point is treating him kindly. It’s when you use your other hand to rub his tip that he really can’t stop moving. You watch and feel him squirm beneath you as you continue. Then you twist your torso and grab a handful of his hair, pulling him back slightly. The breath that touches your skin is quick and hot, chest heaving with every pant.

“That’s it, baby. Cum for me.”

His ears perk up and he lets out this long and low moan as you pull his hair and give him your final command. It’s like a switch flips in him as he bucks his hips and gets closer to your masterful touch. There’s sweat down his stomach as he trembles and rolls his eyes back. 

You keep stroking him and nudge yourself off of his face. “Let go for me. Focus.”

You know he’s stuck at this moment and he just needs a little nudge. That’s what your words do to him and he finally bursts, cumming all over your hand and on his stomach. He’s heaving so hard that you go into aftercare mode immediately. When he’s done. You come off of him and hold his face in yours. Even when his forehead is sweaty, you press it to yours. 

“Breathe…You did so good for me, Yoongi. So good.” 

He’s almost completely limp in your hold but you can see his smile. He’s already starting to feel achey everywhere even when you just finished and that lets him know that he’s going to feel this even more in the morning. He only starts talking when his breath is nearly calm and he’s realizing how dirty he is. Sweat all over his body and he hadn’t taken off most of his clothes. There’s cum on his stomach and dried up tears on his cheeks. You’re flattered.

“Fucking hell…” He mumbled. He whinces as he hears how raspy his voice is. 

You kiss his cheek, noticing a nice purple mark on his neck. “Did I go too hard on you?” You ask him, taking his safety into mind.

He laughs, “Honestly, if you keep doing things like that to me, I’m gonna fall in love with you.”

You both laugh. “Where’s your towels?”

He points to a closed door, “In the bathroom, in the closet next to the sink.”

So you make your way there. You find the closet and take out a rag but before you can close the closet, your eyes catch on a black box. Curiosity takes the best of you and you open it just for a peak inside. 

You find a variety of women’s clothes. Cute turtle necks, skirts, knee-high socks, the works. Your jaw drops. This could mean so many things depending on which way you plan to look at this from. 

When you come back to him, he’s completely calm but just uncomfortable. You bring a bowl of warm water and a rag and wipe him down, assuming he doesn’t want to make his way to the bathroom. He looks at you through it all and feels himself overwhelmed with a certain feeling. Maybe he’s just horny again but the silence is sweet and he doesn’t want to do anything but look at your face. His blinks are slow and eventually, he starts to feel really sleepy. 

“I’m just gonna get you some new underwear and then we can make our way to your  bed, okay?” You’re kinder with him now that he’s completely weak. 

He feels a bit fresher and knows he’ll have to shower later tomorrow but he feels nice when you lay with him on his bed. You play with his hair with let him lay between your breasts, gentle in reflection to how you treated it before. When he falls asleep, you slowly move his arm from on your hip and make your way out of his home. 

You’re chewing on your lips as your mind is busy with other thoughts. What was up with that black box? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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