#i really have to remember to put things in perspective sometimes

[the-mpreg-guy]

Okay, entering kinda controversial territory here but I really enjoy your meta and I put a lot of stock into your analyses so I'd genuinely like your opinion: what're your thoughts on exploring emotional incest in the Winchester family? While I do say ship and let ship, it is frustrating that Wincest shippers kind of take over the conversation when this topic comes up, because I'd like to explore the concept of emotional incest WITHOUT leaning into titillating smut territory because emotional incest is a common staple for abusive family dynamics and I think there's an argument to be made that it's present in the show. In all honesty, what got me thinking about it was more dean and John's emotional enmeshment rather than anything to do with Sam and dean, because John often pigeon holed dean into the role of 'partner' when he was younger, especially when it came to taking over stereotypical caretaking duties from Mary. Anyways, I'd just like to hear your thoughts on this pretty delicate subject because I love you well thought out your meta is!

Banger ask, let's get into it. Also everyone be normal about this, or else.

I'm going to answer your core question first before I get into my rambly thoughts on whether or not John got weird emotionally with his kids. My thoughts on exploring emotional incest within John and Dean's relationship are this:

1) people are allowed to do whatever the fuck they want with fiction

2) John and Dean have an incredibly well written, fraught relationship that lends itself well to many kinds of critical analysis.

3) as someone with specific trauma that I'm not getting into on tumblr dot com, sometimes the best way to interact with your own issues is to explore them cathartically through fiction.

In other words, I'm on board with people looking at John and Dean and going hey that was weird right.

EVERYONE CALM DOWN THERE'S NUANCE. Because, like, also I don't think anything happened.

Let's get rambly. I don't actually believe that any of the Winchesters engaged in any kind of incest. Emotional, physical, or otherwise. If we analyze the show from a Doylist perspective, we can know for sure that incest was not something happening. At all. Kripke nor any of the creatives involved were interested in telling a story about incest when their target audience was middle America. And even from a Watsonian perspective? All the tongue in cheek references to sibling incest are the creators directly mocking shippers. It's fairly consistently portrayed in a light where both brothers react with revulsion and embarrassment. You can also throw together an incredibly strong classism reading from the incest jokes (Zachariah, a white collar-coded character, calling the boys, two blue collar-coded characters, homorotically codependent?) which is usually the analysis lenses I use.

But again, on the other hand? Season 1-5 is about the abuse we see offscreen.

Oh, Kripke era aesthetics I miss you. Remember when they referenced the night Sam left for Stanford, but we never see it? Dean and Sam stand outside the building in Sam's Heaven and we never see what happens inside. This compels me. But do you know what compels me even more?

Dean never brings up the night Sam left for Stanford. We never hear what happened after Sam left, we never hear what happened during the fight, except from Sam and John. Dean's perspective of that night is completely cut off to us.

Other things to note about seasons 1-5: Dean summing up John's reaction to Sam running away with the sentence "and then when dad came home," Dean figuring out John was possessed because he didn't "tear Dean a new one" for protecting Sam, Dean's shifter explicitly saying "you left me with Dad" to Sam, Alastair calling Dean "Daddy's little girl," Dean having a secret in that made him a target for Bloody Mary, Dean being used as bait in 01x20, and of course Dean offering himself up as bait in 01x02 like it's a given that he's supposed to do that.

Later seasons do some other interesting things with Dean and John. We have the "wide-eyed hitchhiker routine," we have "I had to be a father, mother, and brother to him," we have an incredibly suspicious story about how John showed up out of the blue to save Dean from being roofied and SA'ed when he was "way underage," we have MOC Dean calling a girl a skank, but immediately identifying the specific kind of abuse that she suffered, we have Bela aka Dean's s3 mirror who underwent horrific sexual abuse from her father, and then we have Dean's entire relationship with sex ever.

There are a bunch of ways you can unpack this, and I don't think there's a wrong way as long as you have the reasoning and evidence to back up your claims. To me, this reads a story of a young boy who was parentified, emotionally (and at times, physically) abused by his father, and has a relationship with sex that is directly informed by being enabled and encouraged into unsafe sexual situations as a minor. In other words: I don't think John ever touched Dean sexually or wanted to. I would respect someone who took all of the evidence above and constructed an argument for it, but it isn't a personal take of mine.

But like, it's also complicated because of the whole grooming thing.

I don't really attach sexual connotations to this. Grooming is when a specific kind of power balance is built in a relationship where the victim is getting manipulated- and that dings all the bells on Dean and John for me. Dean also being parentifed into a little-mini mom for Sam was certainly a choice, and should be considered as upsetting and icky as it sounds.

And then there's the Mary mirror stuff, because we have a weird relationship between Samuel and Mary. He doesn't want to bring his wife back, he wants to bring Mary back. When Azazel possessed him it got weird and incest-y with him and Mary. And Dean, being Mary's mirror, has a complicated relationship with John that can be paralleled with Mary's relationship with her dad.

We also have to take Dean's Mary flashback in Dark Side of the Moon into account. This might be a stretch, but given the fact that Dean was emotionally stepping up in places where John wasn't when he was four years old indicates to me that both John and Mary have a tendency to fill a hole where their partner is lacking (also see: Mary relying on Cas almost as if he was John in later seasons).

Again, I don't personally read this as emotional incest on John and Mary's part, but it wouldn't exactly be a stretch for someone to draw that conclusion.

All of this has been an incredibly rambly way to say, I don't usually explore the concept of emotional incest with any of the Winchesters, but I can't discredit any analysis other people make on the topic. And I also can't say that I'm always uninterested in exploring darker takes that I don't usually engage with.

John creates a power dynamic between him and his children, and Mary is entirely capable of doing the same thing, but it's really up to the individual person on how they wanna read that. My reasoning for usually not going down that route are more personal than anything, but it's not something that's going to trigger me or ick me out if someone wants to talk about it.

[marsixm]

ive actually put myself in so many situations and seem to come out doing socially well, youd think at some point i could get it in my head im not irredeemably bad

[ja3yun]

On the Roof || S.JY

stranger!jake x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f.rec), cream pie, fingering, marking and biting, sex with a stranger, weirdly fluffy, petnames (princess, baby), mentions of bad relationships with parents, alcohol, comforting, do not have sex with strangers you meet on a roof, not proofread, anything else lmk! w.c: 9.7k synopsis: when you stumble across a boy on your apartment rooftop, you can't help but invite him to stay. a/n: hi! it's me. this is my first work back and honestly, it's not great but i just needed to get back in the swing of things so please be kind. I missed you guys a lot and the time away was exactly what i needed. thank you all for understanding, and i love you unconditionally!

The winter air tickles your senses as you push open the large, unfairly heavy door to your complex’s rooftop. It might be bitter, but it’s welcomed - your body creating unnecessary heat from both the walk up the three flights of stairs and the discomfort of your day. 

Your shift was hard, too hard. Considering it’s a brand new year, you had stupidly thought that people would be a lot nicer to public service workers, yet you were proven wrong. With countless patients’ loved ones screaming down the phone to you, doctors barking demands at you because they see you as lesser than them, and not to mention the one man who decided that spitting in your face was a rational reaction to you politely telling him that he can’t see his grandmother who was in the middle of an operation.

Safe to say, you’ve had better shifts as a hospital receptionist. 

But there was always one place you could count on to take a deep breath and reset. The rooftop. It’s quiet, overlooks the city, and helps you put into perspective that murder is not the answer to your life problems. But sometimes, God, you wish it was…

Gravel crunches beneath your feet as you make your way to the chairs you so perfectly placed underneath the solar-charged fairy lights, which hang half-arsed off the unused 1990 aerials. It’s not really how you would like to decorate the place, if you had it your way, you would have it looking reminiscent of the rooftop from Wish You, the same one you committed to memory as Lee Sang kissed In Soo for the first time. But since you’re not even supposed to have access to this part of the building, you’ll count the pathetic attempt at creating sanctuary as a win. 

The lights guide you to your seat when you see a figure hunched over, one hand holding a beer and the other holding his head. This is not what you were expecting to see. No one comes up here, not past 10pm anyway. There is one neighbour who occupies the premises when he needs a smoke without his wife knowing, but he works the night shift. So this person is new.

“Um,” you begin, clearing your throat ever so softly to alert them of your presence without giving them an acute heart attack. “Hi?”

Their head jolts up from their hand, eyes wide and face shocked. Clearly, they didn’t expect to have company tonight either. 

You focus on the figure in front of you – a boy, no older than yourself – scrutinising his features with a careful eye. As a woman, being vigilant around unfamiliar men has become second nature, an unfortunately ingrained habit of self-preservation you have mastered since before you can remember. So, your mind ticks through the usual checklist: is there a need to run? Are your shoulders getting that deep tingle that crawls up to your jaw? Is your gut making you want to vomit? None of those alarm bells ring. Instead, you’re met with something else entirely - uncertainty, maybe even sympathy.

The boy seems…fine, at least on the surface. No initial gut-wrenching unease claws at your insides. Emboldened by the absence of any red flags, you take another ginger step closer, studying him in detail.

His large, tired brown eyes peer out from behind thick-rimmed glasses, the weight of exhaustion evident. The glasses sit securely on his pretty thick nose. His lips, naturally full and a muted pink, are set in a neutral line, though the light could be softening their actual colour - it’s hard to tell beneath the hood’s shadow. Greasy, near-black hair clings to his forehead, unkempt but thick. 

His outfit doesn’t fare much better to be honest; a mishmash of layers that hints at desperation more than deliberation. Faded grey jeans hang loose and crinkled, clearly worn more than once without a wash. Over a white t-shirt sits a black hoodie, topped off with a jacket far too big for him, the kind of size that suggests it doesn’t belong to him at all. The entire image strikes you in a way that leaves concern pricking all over your chest.

Steeling yourself, you step closer again, your voice soft but firm. “Are you okay?” The question is sincere, meant to come across as a kind gesture - like when you let a cat sniff around your hand before you just go in for the pet. Your eyes meet his, offering as much warmth as you can muster. There’s something about the way he sits, cold and crumpled, that pulls at your humanity.

At first, his expression flickers, betraying something fragile beneath the surface. But it doesn’t last. In an instant, his jaw sets, and his shoulders square in a defensive shift. His cheeks hollow as his tongue presses against them, words unspoken but clearly brewing. The moment hangs in the air, heavy and awkward. 

It’s as if your simple question has poked at a bruise, tender and raw. You’ve touched something buried, and for reasons you can’t yet work out, his reaction irks you. Of all things to take issue with, why this? What on earth had he expected - for you not to ask a very valid question? Perhaps it’s the day you’ve had that’s caused the unnecessary offence on your behalf.

He averts his gaze, the connection between you severed. Instead, he tips back the beer bottle in his hand, his focus shifting to the cityscape below. The quiet glug of liquid slipping down his throat is the only response you get, and it grates against the care you offered.

A flicker of irritation sparks within you. Perhaps it’s the brush-off, or maybe it’s the contradiction in his actions. He’s sitting here in your space, looking like the embodiment of a cry for help, yet recoils at the smallest act of kindness. Still, you don’t back down. Instead, you shift your weight and tilt your head, keeping your tone neutral but unwavering.

“Fine, If you don’t want to talk, that’s sound,” you say, folding your arms against the cold. “But sitting out here, looking like the world’s chewed you up and spat you out…people are going to ask questions like ‘are you okay’ or ‘what’s the matter’. Just saying.” You huff out and follow his gaze to the city. People are having a much better day than you out there, and envy jabs at you.

For a moment, you think he’ll continue ignoring you; his shoulders remain tense, his grip on the bottle firm. But then he sighs, the sound long and weary, like air escaping a deflating balloon, one being pinched and controlled. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, a surprising Australian accent whistling through the wind.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, though the words lack conviction. His eyes remain fixed on the horizon, steadfastly avoiding yours.

“You’re a terrible liar,” you counter, letting a small, dry smile tug at your lips. “And you’re also not allowed up here.”

A tense silence follows, broken only by the chug of a train in the far distance. It’s not exactly comfortable, but neither is it unbearable. You find yourself wondering who he is and what’s brought him to this specific rooftop. 

“You can’t get up here unless you’re a tenant,” you blurt out, trying to get any morsel of information from him. You figure the quicker you find out what he’s doing here, the quicker you can find a solution for him to leave and then have your safe space back to yourself. You might have sympathy for him, clearly having a hard time of life, but so are you - and your comfort outweighs a total stranger who can’t even bother to look your way.

“Okay,” he says bored, sipping his beer again. 

“That’s your invitation to either tell me that you moved in recently, or, your queue to leave because you’re trespassing.” 

“Invitation declined.”

He is so rude, you think to yourself, though you wonder whether you should just call him out for it and at least gain some reaction for him. 

Instead, you park yourself in the seat next to him, huffing as you drop down. “Well I’m not leaving until you do,” you state matter-of-factly, attempting to not let his presence ruin your mood even further. You suppose, if he sits and shuts up, you can at least pretend he isn’t here invading your space.

Though technically, you’re invading his, but you get the idea.

The boy side-eyes you, a small, angry smirk etching onto his cold rosey face. “Yeah? Well, you’re gonna be here for a long fucking time.” He spits his words out, frustration laced within each syllable, though you can tell it’s not directed towards you. The boy is so far in his own head that you begin to realise that any discontentment he might have has less to do with you and your presence, and more to do with the reason he’s hibernating on your rooftop.

So, you sit back, and leave him be. To be honest, you’ve dealt with far worse and crabbier people today, in comparison, this boy is like rainbows and kittens.

Closing your eyes, you let the white noise of the night take over you, infiltrating all your tension and disdain towards the day, and settling you into a comfortable silence. The fairy lights above add a serene atmosphere that you crave after work, the faint lights providing some fake warmth. They were not easy to get up there, but a few falls and tangles later, you realised that all the scrapes and twirls were worth it.

The hooded boy beside you peaks over, finally taking you in as more than an inconvenience. He notices how you breathe in deep, exhaling with a sigh of relief and a cloud of warmth that combats the freezing air. 

It doesn’t take him a minute to realise that you’ve had a bad day too, and a pang of guilt hits him. He’s being unfair to you when you probably just want to relax under the night sky and here he is taking up space. 

He takes up too much space.

Reaching down at his feet, he picks up a bottle of beer from his case, the clinking not even disturbing your quest for serenity. He pokes your thigh with the bottom of the bottle, gaining your attention. When your eyes meet once again, there’s a sorrowful look on his face, the alcohol a form of apology for being an arsehole. It’s an apology you’ll gladly accept. 

“You look like you could use it,” he murmurs, offering a tight smile as he waits for you to take the brown glass bottle.

You wrap your hand around the base and lift it up in thanks. “I could use ten sambucas and a pint of tequila to wash them down,” you snort out a sarcastic chuckle, beginning to unscrew the cap. You need to thank whatever genius decided that bottle openers were too much hassle and gave people a much easier and more practical way to open a bottle of beer. You hope they’re having a good night.

The boy lets out a laugh, short but genuine, raising his own bottle to his lips. “That bad, huh?” he asks, voice muffled slightly by the glass.

“It gets like that,” you shrug, taking a long pull from the bottle, barely savouring the taste, routing around for the effects of calmness that it will bring rather than its pallet. “Comes with working in a hospital.”

He raises an eyebrow, curiosity momentarily overriding his gloom “Nurse?”

“Receptionist.” You correct him, hissing out as you absorb the alcohol. Beer is not your favourite taste, a Sex on the Beach is much more appealing, but you would down a tank of gasoline if it meant you could get rid of this stress.

He sucks in an empathetic breath, whistling low as he leans back against the seat. “Yeah, you need a gun, not alcohol.”

The comment catches you off guard, and for the first time in what feels like weeks, you laugh - really laugh. It bursts out of you, raw and unrestrained, carrying away the weight of the day. Life isn’t inherently awful, but it’s lonely sometimes. Working back shift in the hospital makes it hard to keep friends or any semblance of a social life. The most interaction you get that isn’t disgruntled patients or angry phone calls is on twitter with your online friends, but even then, it’s a rise-and-repeat conversation cycle of ‘for real’ and ‘same’ replies to posts you make about Jang Kyungho when no one is looking. 

Not exactly the deep human connection that people need.

So this, being able to laugh and have a bit of understanding for even a second, is comforting. It almost makes you feel bad for cursing the boy out in your head.

Smiling, you extend a hand to him, “Y/N.”

He hesitates for a fraction of a second before taking it. “Jaeyun,” he replies, offering you a smile in return. It’s faint but sincere, a crack in the armour he’s wearing so tightly.

As he grips your hand in his, you feel the ice-coldness on his skin, a clear indicator that he has been up here for quite some time. Or at least out in the open air. It only makes you more intrigued - and with him being a little slither more open with you, you decide to take the nugget and run with it.

So you talk, and talk, and talk. It feels like forever but it’s actually only two hours. Not a lot is said, but you learn some things about him; hobbies, interests, friends, his favourite TV shows and Films. All surface-level stuff, yet it feels like you’re speaking to an old friend. He learns about you too - the same stuff, with added anecdotes about working in a hospital.

But there is one thing that you are dying to know.

“So,” you begin, twisting your patio chair to face him fully, the legs scraping along the asphalt of the roof. “You can guess I’m here after a bad shift…why are you here?” Your face is expectant, waiting for an answer while you drink your beer.

But Jaeyun’s face is overcome with a flash of rage, partly due to your question, but more the fact that your question made him think about the reason he is here. Though, as quickly as his face shows agitation, it dissipates just as fast. Instead, he opts for an obtuse response. “Just wanted to enjoy the view. That’s all.”

“Couldn’t do that from your own building, no?” you tease lightly, humour softening the prodding tone. But your persistence nudges too close to something real. “Oh... did your girlfriend kick you out?” The words tumble out before you can stop them, too sharp and intrusive.

Unfortunately, it’s a habit of yours to be so nosey that it comes off inconsiderate or produces ill-timed questions. In this instance, it’s both.

His grip tightens on the neck of the bottle. The knuckles whiten, the tension visible. For a moment, he studies the label, reading the same ingredients over and over as if they hold the secret to life's greatest mystery - what happened on that fishing trip in Gavin and Stacey.

“My parents did. Yeah.” His confession is sharp, devoid of emotion

Your stomach drops. “Oh...” It’s all you manage, guilt prickling at the edges of your thoughts. You’re so stupid for poking Y/N! You inwardly scold yourself. Obviously, this issue is so much bigger than you can process. Still, your mouth will continue to flap around. 

“Yep.” He pops the p with bitter precision, his tone teetering on the edge of sarcasm. “Apparently, I need to ‘get my act together.’” He says with accompanying quotation marks from his fingers.

“As in?”

“As in I need to be their perfect little boy and follow in my brother’s footsteps - be a lawyer.” The words fall flat, heavy with resentment.

Nodding along, the pieces form enough for you to make your own solid conclusions. “And I guess you don’t want that?”

“Fuck no.” Jaeyun scoffs out a bitter laugh. “I’m more likely to need a lawyer than be one.”

“Ohhh a bad boy huh?” you wiggle your brows, trying to interject some semblance of humour into the moment while sussing him out, to lighten his load even just a smidge. You can’t begin to imagine what his parents said or did to him once he rejected their concept of a perfect life, and you don’t really want him to dwell on it right now either.

He laughs despite himself, a quiet sound that momentarily lightens his expression. “Maybe.” It’s a noncommittal answer, but he seems content to let you spin your own version of events.

Honestly, he is not bad in any shape or form. But when he says he would need a lawyer rather than being one, he means that that career is so absurd that even a goody too shoes like him is more likely to get in trouble before he stands in a suit.

He just wants to live his life without this great expectation, without people demanding he ‘do better’ when he knows he is doing just fine; he’s in a great University, studying music and production, and has a decent part-time job at the record store, which isn’t loads of money, but enough for him to pay his mum and dad digs and still have a life outside their constraints. He’s doing fine, or so he believes.

But fine isn’t enough for his parents. Their love towards their own son is tied to the weight of their expectations, ones he can’t - or won’t - carry.

“So they just…kicked you out?” you ask carefully, noting the sorrow in his features as he turns the events of the past few months in his head. Sympathy creeps back into your chest, any lingering annoyance dissipating along with the last sips of your beer.

“Yeah,” he confirms, sighing and shrugging. “It’s fine.”

“Are you staying with friends or…” You don’t finish the question because you’re scared of the answer; the dishevelled clothes and hair are enough to semi-confirm.

Jaeyun looks up, his gaze catching the glimmer of the fairy lights, their soft glow reflected in his dark irises. “I was, until a few days ago. You can only couch-hop for so long before people start to feel like you’re intruding.”

He holds no malice towards his friends, no bitterness in his tone, and honestly, his best friend Sunghoon said he could stay for as long as it took him to save up for an apartment of his own. But he doesn’t want to take advantage of his kindness, the boy already doing more for him than most would have. Even Jay, his other friend, offered to loan him the money for the first month's rent on a flat uptown. 

But Jaeyun’s pride wouldn’t allow him to take advantage of their kindness. He would manage on his own, no matter how hard it got.

Seeing the pity in your eyes, he waves his hand to brush off your concern. “It’s fine, I’ve scraped up enough money to get rent now. I just need to find a place,” he smiles softly, appreciative of your sympathy even if he doesn’t want it. “I’ll be fine. I’m going looking tomorrow.”

There’s a sense of relief that his words bring you. Although his predicament isn’t ideal right now, it looks like it could be on the turnaround, and for that, you’re thankful.

“If it’s only for one night, do you want my couch?” The offer spills out before you can stop it, surprising even yourself.

Jaeyun laughs heartedly, eyebrows knitting in disbelief and amusement. “You’re fucking stupid.”

“Huh?!” you exclaim in shock. It’s not really the response you were expecting. A yes? Sure. A no? Absolutely. But an insult to punctuate your act of kindness was a curveball.

Sitting up straight, he places his beer on the ground, an amused smile softening his features. “I’m a random man you’ve known for a couple of hours. I could do anything to you in your own home, and you don’t seem the slightest bit worried about that.”

Okay, maybe he has a massive point. You don’t know him and he could literally attack you at any moment. And considering earlier you had to assess him before approaching, it shows that you do have the common sense not to let him stay with you.

But he poses no threat, none whatsoever. He’s just a boy in a fucked up situation, and your kind heart can’t see him freeze; god knows how many nights he’s been out. He’s already reminiscent of Jack Dawson turning into a block of iced body parts.

“Well, you won’t right?” You throw the question back to him. “I mean, to be honest, I’ve let men in my bed for a lot less than a tiny conversation and a beer.” 

As soon as the words tumble out of your mouth, your cheeks flush to match his cold ones, neck tingling in embarrassment. You’ve just confessed that your standards are abysmally low - you’ve slept with men who didn’t even have the decency to buy you a drink nevermind learn your name.

Jaeyun stifles a laugh, rubbing at his eye. “For your pride, I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.” The smile on his face is so beautiful that you’re caught off guard a little. Now you wish he was one of the men you let roll around on top of you for a compliment and a ride home.

His expression shifts, returning to a more serious note, though the smile lingers. “Seriously, Y/N. Thank you for the offer, but I only have” - he glances at his watch - “six hours before sunrise anyway.”

“Seriously, it’s no trouble-”

“I’m serious too,” he interrupts gently, slouching back into his seat. “You should go in. It’s cold, and after the day you’ve had, you need sleep.”

“I-”

“Y/N.” His tone is firm but not unkind. “I’m fine. Go. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

His refusal stings in a strange way, the rejection of your kindness more personal than it should feel. But you know better than to argue with someone so resolute. It never ends well. So, with a resigned nod, you down the last of your beer and stand.

“Okay,” you reply, setting the empty bottle aside. “I’m in 4A if you change your mind. I can grab some blankets? Pillows?”

Jaeyun places a hand over his heart, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Thank you, Y/N. Truly. But I promise I’ll survive.”

And so, you leave him there, your heart tugging at you to insist, to argue, to make him take shelter in your tiny flat. But your feet keep moving, respecting his wishes.

As you reach the door, you glance back one last time, the words caught in your throat. You just hope he’ll be okay.

_____

The rain lashes, jolting you awake. It’s not the pretty white noise rain that you enjoy, it sounds like hundreds of tiny little pebbles being pelted at your window. Strange. It was forecast as clear skies until at least Tuesday. 

You blink groggily, groaning at the interruption. You can’t have been asleep for more than two hours - if that. Begrudged, you turn your back to the outside, shielding yourself from the rain that cannot attack you. Yet, an unsettling feeling stews in the bottom of your stomach, the kind that makes your heart beat faster and your mouth gain moisture.

It’s not uncommon for you to have random spouts of anxiety, all your life you’ve suffered from it, but this isn’t your typical ‘my brain is going to bring up that one time I peed myself in primary 2 and had to be sent home’ anxiety. This is something more.

Fuck.

Jaeyun.

The thought hits you like a bolt of lightning and your body moves before your mind can catch up. You fling off your pastel pink duvet, slide your feet into your beloved fuzzy slippers, and throw on a housecoat to cover your half-naked form. If you had the right mindset and not half asleep and half in panic, you would have grabbed a rain jacket and some trainers instead.

Thought, without thinking about your own state, the chilly air cuts at your skin as you make your way to the roof. The rain, now mixed with hail, pelts down hard, each sting enhancing your concern. Your eyes roam around near the seated area, one of your hands shielding your eyes from the brutal hailstones, each one nipping your hand in anger. 

"Jaeyun?" you shout, your voice cutting through the storm, only to be drowned out by the constant rain. You get closer to the seats and see nothing. Panic overwhelms you, hot and stifling. "Are you still here?"

As you spin around, your eyes finally land on him. He’s slumped up against the rooftop enclosure which acts as a headboard to an uncomfortable concrete bed. His jacket and hoodie are doing as much to protect him as a candyfloss blanket, each soaked through and clinging to his skin. How can he sleep like this? It makes you wonder if he lied about just how long he had stopped couch-crashing and living out in the open.

Quickly, you drop to your knees beside him, ignoring the puddle that entrenchs your legs, and place your hand on his shoulder as you shake him awake. “Jaeyun?” you bellow, loud enough for him to startle awake and instantly put a guard up.

“Huh?” he mumbles, voice thick with confusion.

“Come on, I’m not leaving you up here,” you inform. This time, it isn’t a question but a demand. You have too much compassion to willingly leave him up here any longer.

Jaeyun’s eyes squint through his water-splattered glasses as he takes in your figure. “Y/N? What the fuck are you doing? You’re soaked,” he states the obvious, yet oblivious to his own state. “Go back inside.”

“Not without you,” you fire back. “Grab your things.”

“But-”

“Either that or I stay up here with you,” you cut him off, voice firm though only kindness shines through.

You can see the conflict in his face, his concern for your drenched state outweighing his stubbornness. He sighs, defeated, and finally nods. “Fine.”

If there is one thing Jaeyun hates to be is a burden, but it seems no matter what happens, he will inconvenience you in some way - might as well choose the drier option.

Standing upright, you extend a hand, offering him some help up, but he refuses. Instead, he grabs the duffle beside him and clumsily gets up, following you down and into your apartment.

As soon as he walks into the warmth, his bones leap with excitement and his shoulders relax in contentment. You flick on the lights which allows him a better view of your personal space. And it is exactly how he imagined it.

Your walls are covered in art and photos of you and your friends, lyric posters from bands he has never even heard of, and a shrine to TO1 in the corner. It’s cosy, lived in, and he feels a massive pang of envy. 

“You can use my shower,” you say while subconsciously tidying up, removing the cups and wine glasses that have piled on the coffee table. “Luckily for you, I like wearing guy’s clothes on my period so I’ll see what I can find to fit you.”

“Seriously, Y/N. I’ll just, dry off with a towel or something, No Stress.” He doesn’t like the fuss but he can’t deny he doesn’t feel a little fuzzy as you make space for him. 

Scoffing, you turn around with a perplexed look on your face. “A towel? Jaeyun, you’re soaked to the bone. You need a shower and then you can have a towel, okay?” 

A grateful grin adorns the boy’s face as he takes his shoes off. “Okay. Thank you, Y/N. Seriously.” Jaeyun nods, clutching his damp duffle as he trudges towards the bathroom. 

You point out the way, adding a quick, “Towels are on the rack, and there’s shampoo, soap, and more in there. Just use whatever you need, okay?” 

With another muttered thank you, he waddles to your bathroom, suddenly enthralled with how the night has panned out. It’s been a while since he had a decent shower, and the ones in the Uni’s lockeroom are made more for a quick wash down than a deep cleanse.

As he disappears into the bathroom, you let out a sigh, glancing around your apartment. It isn’t a mess by your standards, but you suddenly feel self-conscious about the clutter. Usually, when people are up, it’s those who are either only making their way to your bedroom or those who do not care and have known you long enough to understand that you like a bit of mess.

A messy home is a home loved.

The sound of running water echoes from the bathroom, and you take the moment to rummage through your wardrobe. You pull out a pair of joggies and an oversized hoodie that has seen you coming every cycle for the past three years. You can’t get much more comfort than these. They’ll be a bit loose on his slim frame, but they’re warm and dry.

Speaking of which, you glance down at your own rain-soaked state, grimacing. The slippers squelch faintly with each step, and the damp housecoat clings unpleasantly to your skin. Without hesitation, you pull out a baggy t-shirt and some old pyjama shorts, slipping into them after quickly drying off your hair with a towel that’s close by. It’s not inherently clean, but it serves its purpose, so that’s good for now.

Satisfied, you place the clothes Jaeyun will borrow on the sofa before heading to the kitchen. The kettle hums to life as the storm outside continues its symphony, the hail getting more dangerous and cutthroat. A hot cup of tea feels like just the thing to chase away the chill, after all, there’s little problems in life that a good cuppa can’t fix.

Just as you reach for the tea bags, the creak of the bathroom door pulls your attention.

Jaeyun steps out, his damp hair falling messily over his forehead, droplets of water glistening on his skin. A towel sits promiscuously low on his hips, and despite yourself, your gaze trails downward. The delicate silver chain around his neck catches the light, the cross pendant resting at eye level with his pretty brown nipples. Your eyes wander further, taking in the faint definition of his toned abs, the subtle dip hinting at a v-line. And his cock is outlined perfectly to give you an idea of his size and width but you can tell it still doesn’t do him justice. 

You realise with a jolt that your mouth is slightly open, and the train of your thoughts is taking a decidedly inappropriate detour. Heat rushes to your cheeks as your mind conjures up scenarios you’d never admit aloud. A pang of guilt follows swiftly - this boy has been through hell, and he’s come to you for solace, not to be gawked at.

“Sorry,” Jaeyun says, breaking the spell. His voice is soft, a mix of embarrassment and strange pride, as he catches your lingering stare. “I’ll get dressed. I just…didn’t know where the clothes were.”

“Oh!” You clear your throat and nod toward the sofa, purposefully keeping your gaze above his shoulders. “Yep, just there. Help yourself. I think they’ll fit.”

As he moves to retrieve the clothes, you busy yourself with literally anything else - studying the ceiling, adjusting the kettle, anything to avoid the moment and stop trying to catch glimpses of his cock. 

You don’t hear the rustling of clothes though, instead, you just hear yourself breathing, which piques your interest. Why isn’t he changing?

Subtly, your eyes glance over to him and then you see it, the look on his face as he stares at the clothes. You’ve had that look before too, the one that comes with the mixed feelings of disbelief, shame, sadness, hope, and every other conflicting emotion that arises when you’re down and out.

“Thanks,” he whispers, “For all of this.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” you reply, taking a few small steps forward. But Jaeyun shakes his head, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“No, really,” he insists. “I…I don’t think I’ve met someone as kind as you in a long time.” His voice breaks on the last word, and he quickly looks away, ashamed of the vulnerability slipping through. 

He has his friends, they are kind and generous much like yourself, but being kicked out of his own family has also shown him the darkest parts of humanity, the ones that he doesn’t let others know that he’s experienced. Truthfully, he’s just a scared boy who needs his family. 

The admission punches through your chest, leaving no room for hesitation. You glide over to him as your arms wrap gently around his shoulders. 

If a cuppa can fix most things, a hug can fix them all.

At first, he stiffens, unsure how to respond, but then he relaxes, his head lowering slightly against you.

“It’s okay,” you murmur softly. “You’re going to be okay. Maybe not right now, but soon.”

Jaeyun’s arms tentatively come up to return the embrace, and for a moment, the storm outside fades into irrelevance. His eyes close and for a change, he believes that it will be fine. This moment isn’t going to last forever, once the morning blooms, he’ll be out of your life and trying to get back on his feet, but he’s thankful for the reassurance and hope right now.

Pulling back slightly, his arms still lingering around you. His eyes, uncertain and yearning, flicker between your face and your lips. Then, without a second thought, he leans in and presses his lips to yours - a fleeting, hesitant kiss that seems to catch even him off guard. 

His lips retract from yours as he draws back, his face flushed with embarrassment and horror. “Sorry,” he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. Why the fuck would he kiss you without consent when you’ve been so kind towards him? He thinks. His hand twitches at his side, as though unsure whether to retreat or reach out again. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Would it make you feel better?” you interrupt gently, your voice soft but steady.

His brows furrow, confusion flickering across his features. “What?”

“Would it make you feel better?” you repeat, tilting your head slightly. There’s no judgment in your tone, no hesitation. “To kiss me?”

“Really, no, it’s okay-”

This time, you close the distance, your lips capturing his before he can finish the sentence. It’s slow, deliberate, a kiss that tells him you’re here for him despite still being strangers. His initial surprise melts into something deeper, something warmer, as he responds cautiously at first, then with more certainty.

It actually is making him feel better, the human connection, it’s nature's balm.

So he follows your lead, his arms tightening around your waist, holding you impossibly close as his hands splay over your back, covering most of the surface. The way his plump lips move against yours is magnetic, sucking and pulling you into his world. You’ve been kissed more times than you can count - shamelessly to say - but his mouth feels a little different; a little less icky than the others and a lot more like they’re meant to be on yours.

With that feeling charging your bloodstream, your hands fly up to his damp hair, craving to have him on each of your senses. You can’t get enough of him, his taste of beer from the numerous bottles he downed on the roof, the touch of his silky locks that are in need of a haircut, his scent of your strawberry milk body wash mixing in with his own musk, how he sounds when he growls into your mouth, showcasing that he’s just as desperate as you are for this. 

You need him…

Swiftly, your hands trail from his head, down his neck, your nails lightly scratching down his collarbones until you reach the veins just above where you were unabashedly looking not 10 minutes ago. 

Jaeyun pushes your ass against the sofa, bucking up into you, hips deliciously working to place your hand on his cock. God, it feels beautiful, even with the fluffy barrier. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he moans deeply into your mouth, passing the need from himself into you. Your hand grips his covered shaft as you palm him teasingly. “Don’t do this if you don’t want to.” 

Honestly, he doesn’t want to say anything that will make this stop, his body pulsing with the desire to have you wrapped around him. But he also believes in consent, and while you both might be horny-induced 22-year-olds, you’re also strangers. 

Shaking your head adamantly, you grip his dick harder, smiling at the whimper it draws from him. “I want this, Jaeyun.”

“I suppose, men have been in your bed for a lot less, right?” he chuckles into your mouth. And while it could come across as an insult to some -  that he’s essentially throwing back your own slut-shaming dialogue from earlier -  you feel no degradation or malice behind his words. You can tell he’s playful, under all the dreary circumstances. He’s a boy who has light and laughter built into his DNA. 

Maybe it’s delusion, maybe it’s a soul connection, or maybe it’s the fact that you need to bounce on his cock within the next five minutes or you’ll perish that’s clouding your judgment. 

Either one, you let it slide.

So, playfully, you slap his chest and break the kiss. “Keep talking and you won’t get the chance to see my bedroom.”

“That’s okay, I can fuck you here,” he replies quick-witted, suddenly hoisting you up on the back of the couch, the wood and material digging into your ass not uncomfortably. 

You laugh and so does he, looking into each other’s eyes, and it all feels so right. 

Bringing your hand up to his face, you push his hair off of his forehead and reveal his eyes - the light from your living room dancing in his pupils, much like how they had been on the rooftop, but this time, there is an abundance of happiness that adds to the shine. 

“You’re so pretty,” you confess, that no-filter brain coming into full effect once again. Granted, a much better consequence of it. 

A faint, rose blush crawls across the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose, a bashful grin on his mouth. “Thank you. Personally, I think you’re prettier so…”

“Guess we can be pretty together, huh?”

“Pretty good together you mean?” 

Another laugh jumps out of you and you cup both his cheeks, the warmth of them comforting and worth cherishing. You peck his nose. “I should have known a pretty boy like you would be a charmer.”

He shrugs, kissing your nose back, not bothering to rebut. Instead, his hands guide your legs to wrap around him, hands finding your ass, and he lifts you up. You can’t ignore his cock now semi-hard pressing into you as he bounces you into a comfortable position.

Securing yourself, you circle your arms across his shoulders and kiss him once again, letting him lead you down your hallway, anticipation and greed passing through your breaths and tongues. 

“Which one?” he pants out, squeezing your ass as he does so.

“This one on the right,” you point half-arsed, too lost in the moment to give it a full thought. 

Awkwardly due to your wriggling body, Jaeyun opens the door, trying to view a path to which he can reach your bed without falling over your clutter. Shoes and more lay abandoned over your carpet, creating an obstacle, but one he refuses to lose. 

Jaeyun finally reaches your queen-sized bed and gently places you down, his cock pressing into you even more. 

It’s only then that he realises that along the way from your living room to your bedroom, his towel has fallen down, leaving his exposed cock rubbing against the fabric of shorts. “Jesus fucking christ.”

You look at him and see the pleasure on his face, biting his lips as his eyebrows knit together, rubbing against you again. It makes you giggle, you don’t know why, but he just brings it out of you.

The sound from your lips draws his attention back. “What?” he breathes out heavily, cock thumping with need as he humps you again.

“Maybe you should be inside of me while you thrust - kinda how this whole sex thing works,” you playfully jab, biting your lips together to stop from laughing. But he laughs for you, resting his forehead on your chest and shaking his head in amusement.

“Shut up, I’m just excited.”

“I can see that, yeah.”

It’s easy with him, you’re noticing, like you’ve somehow been in a relationship for years and you’ve just come home from a couples date with your married friends, two bottles of red wine consumed, and adoration palpable in the air. You have two dogs, maybe three if you can get your way, and you are the annoying pair that people hate to hang out with because your love for one another never dwindled, not even after all those years.

Maybe you shouldn’t be fantasising about a life with this random man you met on a roof, but that’s where your brain immediately goes each time you banter or giggle with one another.

He’s different.

Jaeyun stands up, letting you see his cock as he pumps it gently, getting it to full mass. The fact that it’s standing at 5 inches already and still growing causes an ache in your stomach. Fuck, it’s going to feel so good inside of you, your walls are already leaking out for it, staining your pyjama shorts. 

His hands grip your shorts and peel them off, hurriedly throwing them on the floor, only adding to the chaos. Your legs instinctively spread and the juices from your excitement gleam in the moonlight, looking like a ripe fruit just ready to be devoured.

And devoured it will be.

Hoisting you down, Jaeyun positions you at the end of the bed until your ass is almost hanging off, kneeling down between your thighs. Not exactly how you thought the turn of events was going, but you are the furthest from mad at it.

“You look so fucking delicious, Y/N.” Jaeyun’s comment makes you feel exposed but not in a bad way, yet, you still want to hide from him. As your legs try to close, he places his large hands on your thighs, shaking his head. “No, princess, the only way you're shutting your legs right now is if you’re clamping my head between them.”

“Jaeyun…” you whine, both at the petname and his breath ghosting over your hardened clit, making it weep again - much to Jaeyun’s delight.

“I know, princess. You need it, huh?” Jaeyun whispers, kissing up your inner thigh and around the area you crave him most. 

The heat in the room is electric, any cold you both felt from the rain now disappeared from your bones and replaced with scorching intensity. Your hips follow the blow of his breath in search of connection but he simply places a chaste kiss on your clit before pulling away, a smirk on his face as he sees you whimper and squeak.

“You make the prettiest noises when you’re desperate, Y/N,” he gloats, though it’s prideful and not arrogant. He means it, and that’s why he keeps teasing you softly, puckering at your folds and giving you just enough to have you humping the air and arching into him.

“I’m never letting you use my shower again,” you laugh in discontentment, your arm flying across your face as you hide in the comfort of your bicep. 

Jaeyun huffs a laugh, echoing your own amusement before he speaks. “I know, I’m being so mean considering you’ve been so kind, huh? You’re just so cute when you’re like this.”

“I’m about to become a bitch if you don’t do something,” you warn lightly, peaking down to look at him under your arm.

“Well, I better get to it then right?”

And with that, his thick tongue stripes up your folds, gathering and savouring your wetness. Your back arches off the bed and pushes just enough onto him that his nose catches your clit. “Fuck!” you bellow. 

The tip of his tongue searches for your nub, and once it hits the spot and your hands fly to his hair, his lips suction around it, almost making out with it. 

He’s not real you think to yourself. You can’t help the jealousy that rises inside of you as your brain works overtime to imagine just how many girls he has had to go down on for him to be this good at eating you out. If there was ever such a thing as a pussy eating contest, you know he would win hands down because he’s already got you chanting his name, punctuated by profanities. 

“Right there, Jaeyun…fuck…” 

His pride swells and he grows more confident, tongue flicking quickly over your button as he drools over your cunt. It’s safe to say that Jaeyun loves pussy. If he could have it morning, noon, and night, and elevensies, he would without hesitation. Especially yours. The taste of your tang and sweetness is enough to put him in a frenzy, long forgetting about his aching cock and focusing solely on drinking you up.  

He humps the air though, as he always does, resembling a dog in heat as he slabbers and grunts into your cunt. He nibbles at your clit and soothes it with his wet muscle, a smile plastered on his face with each movement - your noises urging him on.

He brings his middle and ring finger to your pulsating hole as it clenches around nothing, deciding to give you some more relief. As he plunges in, you scream out in joy, an open-mouthed smile on your face as coherent words get lost in your throat. You clearly don’t get eaten out as often as you deserve, and that just spurs Jaeyun on more to be the best you’ve ever had.

“So wet for me, princess. Taste so fucking good I want to be here for hours.”

And while that sounds nice in theory, you need him inside of you now. His fingers, thick and beautiful, are nice for now, but that 6-inch, throbbing cock is calling your name. So, you pull him away much to your pussy’s weeping plea for him to keep going, his mouth covered in your slick which is perhaps the most beautiful sight you have ever seen -  and you’ve seen the Northern Lights on a crisp autumn morning. 

His fingers never stop though, just curling inside of you slowly, beckoning your climax still. “What’s wrong?” he asks, concern weaving in his tone.

Sitting up on your elbows, you smile and pant, trying to maintain a steady voice while the tip of his fingers presses against your soft spot inside, jaw slacking each time he holds it for a little longer. “I need your cock so back, Jaeyun. I’m so serious.” The words are desperate and real, shamelessly desperate. 

“You sure you don’t want to cum right now? I can do it.” It’s not like he can’t make you cum over and over again anyway. 

Shaking your head, you sit up, hunching over to cup his face. “Please. I really need you to fuck me.”

A primal desire flickers past Jaeyun’s eyes and a quick nod tells you that he needs it too. His cock jumping for joy at the thought of being enveloped in your tight cunt. So, he withdraws his fingers and licks them clean, pulling on a show as his tongue weaves through his digits, wide eyes looking up at you with sheer longing. It stirs something inside of you, something that suddenly makes you want to grow a cock and have him choke on it. 

But you quickly shake those thoughts, pulling him up by his hair and kissing him deeply. His tongue now tastes of you and you are so glad you love sweet juices and decided that for the past three weeks, cranberry spritz has been your favourite. 

Jaeyun makes quick hands of stripping you of your t-shirt, leaving you both naked and clawing at one another. 

“You got condoms?” he asks between kisses, trailing down your neck as his hands grip your hips so tightly that the skin turns white. 

But you don’t want that. You want to feel him. Raw and unfiltered. Is it stupid? Of course, it is. But some would say letting him inside your home never mind inside your body is already wreckless, so, what’s another reckless abandonment on your list tonight?

“No. No condom, please,” you mumble against his hair as you kiss the top of his head, your conditioner filling your senses.

Jaeyun freezes his mouth and darts up, eyes seeking yours to make sure he heard you right. “Huh?”

“No condom. I’m on the pill,” you stroke his cheek tenderly, “Please, Jaeyun. Do this with me just once, yeah?”

For some reason, that ‘just once’ pangs in the boy’s chest and he hates the feeling more than anything. He doesn’t want this to be once, he wants this to be again, and again, and then some more. Jaeyun isn’t one to believe in fate but considering he chose your flat complex rooftop out of all the others in the city, and it decided to pour down - even though it’s been dry for the past two weeks - which led to you coming to get him and practically drag him into your home; he would say that doesn’t happen by chance. 

Although, instead of getting in his head, he agrees, lust overpowering his responsibility to be safe. “I want it too, so fucking badly,” he leans down, rubbing his leaking cock on your slit, mouth moving to your ear. “I can’t wait to cum inside you, fill you up and make you suck me in.”

Does he know where this confidence came from? Perhaps it was the way you whispered into the air his name over and over again how good you felt while he ate your pretty little cunt, or maybe it's the fact that if this is your only time under him, he will damn make sure you’re thinking about him for the rest of your life.

The heels of your feet move with his ass as he gyrates his hips, allowing his cock to snag on your clit and elicit a hiss from both of you. Your lips messily leave open-mouth kisses over any skin that you can reach; his neck, cheek, lips, forehead, all of it, the feeling of his glistening skin on your lips addicting.

“Please, Jaeyun. Fuck me. Right. Now.”

Your pleading snaps him into full throttle, his hand guiding his cock to your entrance, his bell expanding and contracting as he slips inside of you. Your groans of pleasure harmonise in the winter night, both your bodies connecting fully as he bottoms out slowly, balls meeting your ass as he pushes in to the hilt.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, burying his face in your neck, and you lock him in there, fisting his hair and bucking your hips for friction. He fills you up so good you wonder why humans are born empty and not with a permanent cock up their pussy. 

You never want him to leave.

“Move, Yunnie, please.” The tone of your voice doesn’t carry much conviction but portrays your desperation for him. The nickname falling off your cock-drunk tongue much to his happiness. If anyone ever calls him Yunnie again, and it overtakes the way you whimper it out, he will commit murder. Only you can call him that, call him whatever you want, call him by his name, ever again.

Obeying your wishes, he begins to pull back his hips and move them painfully slow back into you, feeling each bump of your walls and how they meld perfectly with the veins of his fat cock. 

While he loves savouring the moment of you taking him in, feeling how your hole adapts to his girth and length, creating way just for him. “Faster, Yunnie. God, please.”

“Asking God to help get what you want is crazy considering it’s me you should be begging,” he chuckles, never increasing his pace. 

“Shut up, please,” you whine out, grabbing his ass and trying to physically move him to speed up.  

“You can ask me to shut up but not beg me to move faster?” he tuts, going even slower, “C’mon, princess. Ask me nicely.”

You want to slap him, a dry laugh coming from your throat as you fight between your pride - telling you never to do as a man says - and your need for him to start jackhammering into you. 

Well, you suppose you can let your pride have a night off for a chance.

“Jaeyun, please, move faster. I’m begging you. Fuck me faster and harder.”

Those sweet yet filthy words send Jaeyun into orbit, and he grants your prayers. With his hands pushing down your hips, he begins to thrust with ferocity, the tip of his cock not punching into your cervix. It’s much more delicious than you ever could have imagined, the way he snaps into your cunt with no restraint, your pussy taking a beating in the best way possible. 

This is heaven.

“Yes, Jaeyun! Yes! Don’t fucking stop, please.” 

And stop he does not. In fact, he lifts your legs over his shoulders and folds you in half, the new angle somehow reaching so deep you can feel him poking your stomach. You have never felt this good in your life. A cock has never made your brain turn to mush or made your hands literally peel the skin from your partner’s back before, yet here you are, chanting incoherent words into his ear and clawing up his shoulder blades.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, princess. Taking my cock so well.” Jaeyun breathes into your neck, nipping at your skin and he marks you right back. His praise makes you smile, kissing all over his face in appreciation for the pleasure he is giving you right now. “Such a good girl, Y/N.”

You could cum that minute, and he feels how you clench around him, sucking him in further, making him tip his head back and move even faster. He wants you to cum together, and with how good your pussy feels, he isn’t far from it.

“You sure you want me to cum inside?” he asks again, trying to gauge whether you could have changed your mind. But you grip his hair and stare into his eyes. 

“If you don’t, I’ll kick you out back into the rain.”

Jaeyun laughs. Hard. Your threat is meaningless because you clearly would never leave him out there again to drown in the winter hail, but it does get your point across. You don’t just want his cum, you need it. And luckily for you, he is happy to oblige. 

So, with your consent, he works on getting you both to the edge, his right hand coming down to your clit and rubbing it in smooth circles, a juxtaposition to his harsh thrusts. And you begin to see stars, constellations, as you arch your back and wriggle under him. The coil in your tummy burns with the insatiable pull. 

“I’m cumming! Yunnie, I’m cumming,” you warn, happiness filtering the air as you buck your hips and match the rhythm of his shaft penetrating you. “Cum with me. Please, baby.”

Baby

His balls tighten at the petname and groans loudly. “Call me that again.”

“Baby, cum inside me,” you repeat within a moan, forcing your eyes open to lock onto his. “Cum with me.”

And just like that, with the final clench of your walls around him, he spurts his white seed inside of you, a primal roar escaping his lips as each rope coats your canal. You cum with him, his name falling from your lips over and over again as you chant out in hymn. 

“Squeeze it, princess. Take it all like you want.” He validates you without ridicule, a grin of glee etching onto his face as his body shakes with the euphoria he feels. You were right, cumming inside of you is much better than a condom.

After a while, both your hearts begin to slow down and his body collapses onto yours. His lips lazily kiss your sweaty skin on the top of your breast, your fingers threading through his now dry hair, the only wetness coming from persperation. Its intimate, despite the newness of the situation, and you can’t help but plaster a smile on your face.

It feels so right.

And you’re not the only one who believes so.

Jaeyun gathers some strength to lean on his arm, cupping your face as he strokes your cheek. “Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.” His voice is wavering due to exhaustion, but it’s overshadowed by sincerity. 

Placing your hand over his, you titter slightly, the sound making Jaeyun’s stomach knot and cock pulse inside you once again. “You mean having sex or staying in my house and abusing my shower privileges?”

“Both.” He murmurs earnestly, pinching your cheek. “I also want you to abuse my shower…when I get one.” The last part of that sentence falters slightly, his voice dipping as if suddenly comping back into his reality.

But you won’t let him dwell in it. Instead, you reach up to kiss him gently, lips expressing the reassurance you worry your words might not. And it seems to do the trick because, in an instant, he’s kissing you back with passion, taking each swipe of your tongue against his as confirmation that you want to have this again and see where it goes. 

It could lead to nothing but it could lead to everything.

And he needs to find out.

[saintshadow]

PICK A CARD - Uncomfortable Truths

P I L E O N E

Quit putting your trust in things you know don't work. I heard showmanship. The way youve been approaching this connection or situation is egotistical at times. You can be someone that tends to put up a front because you're scared of being seen as weak or vulnerable. You're very tactful & can also be highly skilled in deception. I heard something about reality weaving, you weave your reality very powerfully. Be more mindful of your words when you get angry. When it comes to YOU they aren't just words, you influence the essence of the occurrence of life in every word you speak and every tear you cry. Could be Latino or indigenous in heritage, I also heard Slavic! Give up on what doesn't serve you I heard. Your ancestors are very impatient because you keep avoiding this lesson. If you don't relent soon you're going to look back at this eventually and just be like 😬. While you may think you're operating from a higher perspective right now, there are times you don't & there are times you don't actually hear or understand others the way in which you believe you do.

P I L E T W O

You're actually very lovable. Needing help isn't a reflection of your weakness, it's a reflection of the fact you're wise enough to grasp that sometimes you don't have all the answers. You're veryyyy intelligent & deeply intuitive but you tend to silence yourself for the sake of others. It's like the prospect of standing out really makes you anxious at times. You think about your desire to be seen and acknowledged and then remember what that means for you socially and get the ick 🤣 This pile is giving Taurus energy 🤣 you need to relax more often, youre so serious that sometimes you miss out on the joys of humanity. Even though some things aren't always forever doesn't mean you can't enjoy them for what they are. Learn to indulge without emotional consequences. Also some of y'all would benefit from changing from some kind of diet? Or also from doing some sort of yoga or somatic practice that focuses on clearing anxiety from the stomach.

P I L E T H R E E

You have an envy & projection issue. I feel like a lot of this group Lowkey compares themselves to others frequently or grew up in a way as a child that never made you feel justified in standing up for yourself. So now, you at tiiiimes perpetuate this pattern in your day to day life on a subconscious level. It's a program in your mind, and it's why you feel upset a lot of the time. You may feel like you hold such grudges because you forget how valuable your own perspective and self validation is. You're very self critical and can get frustrated when others succeed. Like you almost fear being outshone by others. A lot of neglect wounds here too, where some of you expect others to go above and beyond for you but you treat yourself horribly. You are very cruel with yourself pile 3, be more kind and be more loving. You deserve to treat yourself with respect.

[choochooboss]

Sketch dump! Vol. 5

September 2022 (Part 1/2)

The first piece on top summarised my cosplay rush for Tracon 2022! The second is an old idea for a charm.

"SURPRISE!!"

Back in 2022 I hosted an art raffle for reaching 777 followers on Twitter! The winner would get their submas themed idea realised (which was their friends throwing a surprise party for the twins!). I wanted to make a little comic and have the bosses walk in their office where depot agents, Elesa, Drayden, Skyla, Clay etc. would be waiting with decorations and treats and games.

Emmet is all smiles of course while Ingo gets so emotional he could only whisper a "super bravo".

Not really headcanons anymore but still funny ideas.

1. Emmet gets clumsy when off-rhythm! He starts walking in curves if there is nobody else around to match his rhythm with.

2. Emmet spaces out/forgets to say things aloud when someone speaks too long or when things go off-script! His thinking gets interrupted easily.

3. Ingo sometimes bumps into doors because he is too used to automatic doors!

4. When things go off-script Ingo speaks too much and rushes in straight lines"

Also my little inexpensive sketchbook & my trusty tools! Mechanical pencil and eraser pen are life when scribbling my skrimblos smaller than a postage stamp!

More Ingo~ I utilise a wide range of sources for references, including CSP's poseable 3D models, they can come really handy with perspectives and proportions!

The second piece is my very first attempt at cosplay in Tracon 2022: Blingo! I walked in with a sequin hat, leather jacket, leather pants and high heel patent leather boots.

The hardest part of cosplaying Ingo is remembering NOT to smile ahaha!

Some hairstyle tests

I drew these for a huge submas art collaboration over Twitter hosted by @/mimizukeii!! It was technically my first art collab before I started arranging them myself with Aggie/Magma.

While looking for train related songs I found this cute nursery rhyme to go with the marching:

"Over the mountains,

Over the plains,

Over the rivers,

Here come the trains.

Carrying passengers,

Carrying mail,

Bringing their precious loads In without fail"

I wanted to compare these silly twins, planning to do something more silly with them later. Also a sketch of @/fukurow's butler designs I never finished.. The capes compliment them so well, I love them!!

Prequel to this piece! Emmet is so confident in himself he thinks Pierce wants to learn from him but is invited for a duet on the stage instead!!

Emmet has really great voice actors in Pokemas! I especially love how his english VA gives him that bri'ish/posh/sophisticated vibe while also soft and melodic! I know for SURE this VA/Emmet can sing, I can show you later!

One of my favourite sketches!! I wanted to add a bunch of characters in the BG reacting to this sonic blast of emotion over a performance!

Heyyy it's the smile buddies comic!! I really hope Ingo gets to interact with Marnie in Pokemas one day!!

I feel Ingo's eyes in the mirror panel is a little off in the final comic, I meant to keep it softer like in the sketch!

It's Nimbasa trio!! Idea inspired by submas EX uniform colors. Might continue this later!

Some BG tests for this piece! Compositing is hard but absolutely worth the effort, it can make a huge difference in the appeal of your piece!!

Practise piece drawing over a photo I thought was cool! I want to get more experimental with lighting and perspective!

'How's it hanging bro?' Who hung him up there anyway??

Sketch for this arguing scene! Something REALLY BAD needs to happen for them to end up that tense! Even if I want to present them close to the canon material I still want to put them in really challenging situations to see how far I can push their emotions!

Thank you so much for coming all the way down here!! This set was pretty loaded, I hope you enjoyed scrolling through all this ahah!

Previous posts:

Sketch dump Vol. 1: April-June 2022

Sketch dump Vol. 2: July 2022

Sketch dump Vol. 3: August 2022

Sketch dump Vol. 4: July 2022 Part 2

[404creep]

Breaking The Ice (Judd Birch X Jessi Glaser Older! Sister Reader)

Summary: You and Judd have been in school together since elementary school.

This is kind of related to the drabble I put out a long time ago. Lots of people have been reading that and asking for new Judd content so I figured I’d pause of my Simon Riley series to write this. Hope ya’ll like it. May do a second part from Judd’s perspective and then a third chapter showing them actually getting together if this gets enough interaction. As always if you see any errors….no you didn’t.

If she was being honest with herself (and she really did try to be, more often than not) she hadn’t noticed Judd Birch at first.

Back in elementary school, he was background noise. Just another name on the attendance sheet, another kid kicking gravel at recess. Maybe she could’ve picked his face out of a lineup if she squinted, but probably not. He wasn’t loud, but he wasn’t exactly shy either. He didn’t blend in so much as linger around the edges, watching with that half-lidded stare that made him look way too tired for a third grader. Like he was already over it. Like he was clocking every detail and filing it away somewhere private.

And she hadn’t noticed him noticing her.

Not until middle school, anyway. That’s when he started showing up.

He’d gotten tall. Fast. In that awkward, almost unsettling way boys do, like his limbs were rebelling against the concept of symmetry. There was something off about him: sharp angles, quiet intensity, a kind of stillness that didn’t match the usual chaos of the Birch household. His eyes lingered too long. Not creepy. Just… focused. Like he was studying people. Measuring them.

She didn’t like how often she caught him looking.

When Jessi said she was hanging out with Judd’s little brother, Nick, she’d braced for weird. It had to run in the family, right?

But Nick was… different.

Nick was a completely different beast. Loud, messy, always in motion. He talked with his whole body. He wanted to be liked. Judd didn’t seem to care if anyone liked him at all. If Nick was the show, Judd was the curtain. The frame. There, but apart. Not unwelcome. Just… separate.

It was kind of wild how the Birch family didn’t try to fix him. They didn’t ignore him, either. He wasn’t the black sheep, he was just a part of the herd that did his own thing. Like maybe being weird wasn’t something to outgrow. Just something to be nurtured. Even if no one really understood it.

Then came freshman year. Biology class.

They got paired up. Not by choice. She still remembered how he looked at her when their names were called: like he already knew it was going to happen. Like the universe was playing along with something only he could see.

He loved dissections. Frogs, fetal pigs, anything with guts. His eyes lit up in this completely unhinged way, and it was honestly a little terrifying. So she took over the paperwork. It was better than having him hover while she tried not to stab herself with a scalpel.

And weirdly? It worked. They worked. Efficient. Surprisingly chill. He didn’t talk much, but when he did, it caught her off guard. Sharp thoughts, quiet voice, that same too-long stare.

She never knew what to say back. But she wanted to.

By sophomore year, he was gone. Different classes. Different hallways. That thing they had (whatever it was) just kind of faded.

Until she started driving.

She’d just gotten her license, and that came with the responsibility of driving her sister around. Which meant dropping her off and picking her up from the Birch house. Most of the time she sat in the car, engine running, scrolling on her phone or staring out the windshield. But sometimes (too many times for it to be random) Judd came outside instead.

And he never said hi like a normal person.

One day it was, “I’m training raccoons to freak out Nick.” Another time he asked if she wanted drugs, deadpan, like it was a casual Tuesday hobby.

She always laughed. Because he was ridiculous. Because it felt like he wanted her to laugh. Because deep down, she kind of liked how absurd it all was. Like he was throwing her a test, just to see if she’d flinch.

It wasn’t flirting. Not really.

But it wasn’t nothing either.

It was… weirdly electric. Like every conversation was a sequel to one they’d never actually had. He’d stand there, blue dyed hair and deadpanned eyes, looking like the rules didn’t apply to him. And she’d cross her arms and pretend not to care. Pretend she wasn’t waiting for whatever he’d say next.

Maybe it didn’t mean anything.

But sometimes he looked at her like it did. Like she was supposed to understand something he hadn’t said out loud yet.

And she hated how much she wanted to.

Then there was that Friday. Late October. Cold air, crunchy leaves, the kind of day that made everything feel just a little closer, a little slower. Jessi was taking forever inside, probably still talking. Judd stepped out onto the porch.

No greeting. Just, “I’ve been designing suits for the raccoons. Little vests. One of them’s getting a bow tie.”

She blinked. Let it sit for a beat. Then said, “Are they unionized yet, or are you still exploiting their labor?”

He lit up.

Not just in his eyes. His whole face. Like something switched on inside him.

And then he smiled.

A real one.

Not a smirk. Not a twitch of the mouth. A full, open, stupidly soft smile. Or at least as soft as Judd Birch could smile.

“Working on a healthcare plan,” he said. “But they’re terrible at filling out paperwork.”

It was ridiculous. Absolutely unhinged. Probably the weirdest conversation she’d ever had.

And she grinned the whole drive home, Jessi was too busy on her phone to notice.

[charmedreincarnation]

Success story navigation

I've been getting so many asks with questions that feel like they can't be answered any differently than things I've already covered. It's as if I'm receiving the same queries over and over, and I understand the frustration that comes with feeling unheard. I've also received numerous messages from people who are really at the end of their journey, feeling lost and defeated. Whether it's because you've seen no progress despite your efforts, you've been at it for years without tangible results, or you've tried everything with no success, or perhaps your life has even gotten worse with the law or other obstacles – I get it, I truly do.

I want to address the overwhelming sense of despair that comes when you've exhausted every option for so many years and still see no light at the end of the tunnel. To those of you who feel like you're standing at a billions crossroads with nowhere to turn, to those who feel like you’ve put in years to this journey, to those who feel like you’re life has gotten worse even with the law, know that you're not alone. It's incredibly difficult when you've invested so much of yourself only to feel stuck or worse.

That's why I'm going to link success stories that I believe align with the mindset you likely have. By following their journey and tweaking it to suit your circumstances, hopefully, you can find the success they did.

There's nothing more I can say that I haven't already answered or said, but I hope these stories can provide a new perspective and the encouragement you need. May they guide you in finding the path that leads to the success you seek. Remember, it’s often at our lowest moments that we find the strength to rise again.

The ultimate success story with everything you need, mindset, tips, LOA, and Edward Art

For people who struggle with intrusive thoughts and mindset and want to use that to their advantage

My personal favorite success story

Simple Success story for those who prefer to affirm and persist

Very easy pragmatic success story (maba shortcut)

Age and years it took to succeed doesn’t matter success story

You can shift with desperation and bad circumstances success story

Yes you only need your imagination success story

Everything is possible stop asking

It's easy to feel alone, but remember that whatever you're going through, someone else has also faced similar challenges. We all start in different places; some may have an easier beginning than others, but we share the same equal potential to achieve greatness. It's important to acknowledge that while our journeys might differ, our ability to overcome obstacles and reach our potential is universal. Embrace the shared human experience and take comfort in knowing that you have the power within you to rise above and become the best version of yourself. Realizing this is just as important as becoming the richest hottest bitch with the mastery of the void and shifting okay. You’re not alone, you’re very powerful, and you CAN do it. Everyone has the potential to do it, you’ll have hurdles but where in life do you not!? You can struggle here with those journey or just struggle with the life you don’t want like everyone else. Nothing in life is easy, choose the hard path to get where you want so you can be happy forever, I promise it’s worth it.

This covers all the asks I’ve gotten. I really hope the struggle comes to an end for you guys. I know how hard all of you work, and I am truly happy and grateful to see how much you all love yourselves to put yourselves through an amount that sometimes seems pointless and fake, but it will be worth it. That’s just something you have to allow yourself to understand.

[awkward-walking-potato]

since everything went down and the multiverse has been saved, reader and Logan have been living with Wade. Because of that he’s gotten an inside look into their relationship. I think it would be so cute to see reader and Logan’s relationship but from wade’s perspective. Like he’ll (respectfully) watch them as reader has their head on Logan’s thigh as they show him some random funny TikTok and he sort of just rolls his eyes at it. Or Wade comes home to find the both of them passed out on the couch together while a random movie is on in the background. Just things that are really domestic, sweet, and fluffy. I think it would just be really sweet to see their relationship from a different perspective.

Domestic Bliss: A Wade Wilson Retrospective

Wade’s POV

So, I’ve been crashing at Casa de Logan for a while now. You’d think I’d have better things to do than to hang around with a grumpy Canadian mutant and their too-good-for-this-world partner, but let’s be honest—my life’s a circus, and sometimes, you just need to take a break from being the main act. Plus, it’s not like I’m going to get a better view of the Logan and Reader Show anywhere else. Honestly, it’s the most entertaining thing this side of the multiverse, and I’ve seen some Weird stuff.

Take today, for instance. I stroll into the living room, probably covered in blood—I mean, it’s a day ending in ‘y,’ so what else is new?—and there they are: Logan stretched out on the couch like it’s a throne, and Reader draped across his lap like a very happy, very contented blanket.

Reader’s got their phone in hand, showing Logan something that I’m sure is super important. Their head’s on his thigh, which—by the way—is probably the safest place on Earth, considering all the things those thighs have crushed. And Logan? He’s pretending to be all grumpy and uninterested, but I can see the way the corners of his mouth twitch, like he’s just about to smile but doesn’t want to ruin his image.

“Check this out,” Reader says, and their voice has this lilting, sweet tone to it that makes me want to gag in the most respectful way possible. They’re showing him a TikTok, and I catch a glimpse—some stupid cat video, classic Reader—and Logan, good ol’ fashioned Logan, just rolls his eyes. But—and this is the kicker—he watches the whole thing. Doesn’t pull away, doesn’t pretend like he’s not interested. Nope, he’s in it for the long haul, just for them.

I feel my heart do that thing where it’s like, ‘Hey, Wade, remember when you had feelings?’ and I quickly squash it down. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

“Really, Wade?” Logan grumbles, noticing me hovering in the doorway. “Got nothin’ better to do?”

“Not when you two are putting on this much of a show,” I reply, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “Seriously, the domestic fluff is off the charts. I’m gonna need insulin if this keeps up.”

Reader snickers, throwing a pillow at me, which I catch because—duh, reflexes. Logan just huffs, but there’s no real heat behind it. If anything, I think he likes that I’m around. I mean, who wouldn’t?

A couple of days later, I get home from one of my little escapades—nothing major, just the usual chaos—and I’m greeted by a sight that nearly makes me drop my katanas. There’s Logan, all six-foot-whatever of him, curled up on the couch with Reader nestled against his chest. They’re both out cold, dead to the world, with some random movie playing in the background. The screen’s showing some cheesy 80s action flick, which, come to think of it, is probably what knocked them out in the first place.

I stand there, just watching for a minute. And I don’t say this often—like, ever—but it’s... nice. There’s something about seeing those two like this, all tangled up together, that makes the world feel a little less messed up. Like, yeah, we’ve been through hell and back saving the multiverse, but at least there’s this. At least there’s them.

I could ruin the moment. I could wake them up, crack a joke, or pull some prank. But I don’t. Instead, I quietly back out of the room, leaving them to their peaceful little bubble.

A few days later, I walk in on them again. This time, they’re in the kitchen. Logan’s making breakfast—pancakes, because apparently, he’s secretly a domestic god—and Reader’s perched on the counter, swinging their legs and chatting about something mundane. Logan’s grumbling about the batter consistency, and Reader’s laughing, this soft, sweet sound that makes Logan’s eyes crinkle at the corners.

“Morning, sunshine!” I announce, because subtlety is for suckers. “Wade,” Logan growls, but it’s the kind of growl that has zero bite. Reader just grins at me, throwing a piece of pancake my way, which I catch in my mouth because I’ve got skills.

“Y’know,” I say, leaning against the fridge, “if I didn’t know better, I’d say you two are disgustingly perfect together. It’s like watching a rom-com, except with more hair and less awkward misunderstandings.”

Logan just rolls his eyes and flips a pancake. “You stickin’ around, or you got places to be?”

“Why, you gonna miss me if I go?” I tease, but honestly? I’m not going anywhere. Not anytime soon.

Logan doesn’t answer, just grunts in that Logan way of his, but I see the way his hand brushes against Reader’s knee as he moves past them, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it is, for them.

Maybe that’s the thing about them—about Logan and Reader. They’ve found something here, something that’s real and solid, even after everything we’ve been through. And maybe that’s why I keep sticking around, why I keep watching. Because in a world full of crazy, this right here is something worth staying for.

[bougiebutchbinch]

ugh UGHHHH I wanna write a sad fucked-up thing from Ning Yingying's POV

Shen Jiu didn't prey on Ning Yingying in any way, but he could literally only sleep when a woman was there and no men. He flatly refused to tell anyone this or the reasons why. Therefore, he has behaved 'inappropriately' with Ning Yingying (i.e., asking her to stay the night out of desperation because he needed to sleep and Liu Qingge had embarrassed him so much by dragging him out of the brothel that even that space no longer feels 'safe'; but obviously not touching her at all and staying well away from her - still highly Suspect to any outside perspective, though!)

And Ning Yingying isn't stupid (despite what some people think).

She was genuinely nervous about what her shizun might want with her (her shizun, who she knows has two faces - the kind face she shows her and the cruel one he shows Luo Binghe and damn near everyone else). But she also trusts him, and when nothing untoward happens, she's more than happy to have a sleepover with shizun whenever he asks!

But of course, this looks really fucking bad.

And during the trial, Liu Mingyan and Qi Qingqi and the little palace mistress and Qiu Haitang and so many more people, they all come to Ning Yingying and sit with her and talk to her gently, and tell her it's okay. They understand she might be uncomfortable with talking about what happened. They just want her to know that they're here for her, that they support her...

From Liu Mingyan and Qi Qingqi's perspectives, they've heard the rumours, and they're genuinely concerned. Little Palace Mistress and Qiu Haitang, of course, have a darker agenda, and pressure Ning Yingying until even she's not entirely sure what happened between her and her shizun. Did he really just make her a little bed on the other side of his room and put up a screen for privacy? Then ask her to sit on the cushion on the floor by his bed and play the guqin for a little while, until he fell asleep? Did anything more happen? Surely she'd remember - but trauma can be strange like that, Qiu Haitang confides, with teary eyes. Sometimes, your memories don't reveal everthing.

I want a story where Ning Yingying did falsely accuse Shen Jiu, but it's entirely understandable why. He shouldn't have put her in that position. He shouldn't have used her for comfort, even if it was entirely non-sexual and innocent. He should've talked to her and explained that he saw her as a daughter (though in what world would Shen Jiu ever be so open with his emotions, lmao). He should've confided in Yue Qingyuan and his Peak Lord siblings about the difficulties he was having sleeping and found some solution together that didn't damage anyone's reputation - but that would be entirely against everything Shen Jiu is.

And I want Ning Yingying to come to the water prison and sit in front of that sad human stick and tell him she's sorry, she doesn't know what to think, it's all so confusing; she doesn't remember him being a monster even though she said she did at the trial, but everyone keeps telling her he was a monster and she doesn't know what to think or what to believe -

And Shen Jiu can't say a word, since Luo Bingge cut out his tongue. He just looks at her with his one remaining eye and lets her speak.

[holysh1ft]

NAVIGATING DOUBT when manifesting/shifting.

i’ve reached a pretty comfortable place when it comes to doubts, so i wanted to share a few things that have helped me actualize this mentality. please note i am not claiming these approaches are infallible. it's going to vary person to person and even moment to moment, but i know that sometimes, having a toolkit to fall back on can be helpful!

WHAT ARE DOUBTS? doubts are just you putting your awareness on what you don't want. like everything in existence, doubts are simply something you are/can be aware of—a cloud floating through the sky of awareness. now, i know they don't always feel like that, and i'll get to more on that in a second here, but first, let's establish that doubts are just something to be aware of, like everything else in existence.

DO DOUBTS AUTOMATICALLY "MANIFEST?" thoughts alone do not "manifest." if they did, every thought you've ever had would have materialized physically, and life would be chaos. what does make itself seen in physicality—from a free coffee to a whole new reality—is who you are conscious of being or, in other words, awareness plus identification. what do you ascribe to be true about you/reality?

this is why doubts can feel so "real." you're used to having your awareness on a self who doesn't get what they want, has to effort hard to receive very little, is unstable/unsafe, always fails at shifting/manifesting, or is otherwise lacking or incomplete in some way. so, when you have a thought that your desire won't manifest or you won't wake up in your DR, it feels real to you because it is real to/is in alignment with the self you've identified with.

HOW TO "DEAL WITH" DOUBTS. when you're in the mindset that your doubts are something you have deal with, fight, or eradicate, you create a hydra out of them—chop off one head and more appear. this is because you're putting your awareness on the self who has to fight doubts, and thus, more doubts arise (i.e., manifest) for you to fight.

in my experience of self, fighting has never gotten me anything other than exhaustion, be it mental or physical. the answer was always in softening. as the ancient one said to stephen strange, "you cannot beat a river into submission. you have to surrender to its current, and use its power as your own."

what does this look like with doubts? first, remember that doubts are just something to be aware of. they're entirely neutral until you give them power. as jesus said to pontius pilate, "you could have no power at all against me unless it had been given you from above." your doubts have no inherent power until you've given your power to them because you, your light of awareness, are the sole power in your individualized reality.

when i become aware that my awareness is on doubts, i often like to remind myself, "i remember when i was doubting if it would happen, and here it is. the doubts meant nothing." this helps me frame my doubts from the perspective of fulfillment.

of course, i also know that not all doubts can be easily dismissed. the way you navigate doubt is often dependent on how closely you've identified with them, and that's why i wrote the disclaimer at the beginning. if you feel so deeply stuck, my recommendation is to either:

find a way to self-soothe. take deep breaths. take a nap. listen to music. take a shower. do something that will help you get to a better emotional state. really, take care of yourself as best as you can with the resources you have immediately available to you. this too shall pass; these awful feelings won't last forever. be kind and gentle with yourself.

put your focus on anything else. watch a super engaging tv show, play a challenging video game, or learn calculus for all i care. just put your awareness on something else by completely consuming your focus with the new task at hand.

stop trying. this is the law of paradoxical intent: the harder you try toward something, the more difficult it can be to attain/the more separate you perceive yourself from your goal. instead of pushing against them, drop the trying and just let them be. don't resist your doubts. let them exist and yap like you would an annoying sibling, but you don't have to give them your attention and focus. honestly, you could even give your doubts a name and personify them as a way to de-identify from them and brush them off. "oh, that's just steve. steve is always worried about stuff that doesn't matter." obviously, if your name is steve (a) sorry and (b) name them something else. i also recommend naming the doubter after a character who worries about stuff that never comes to fruition.

when the storm passes through your awareness and you reach a state of greater emotional and mental clarity, choose again. affirm, visualize, script, decide, or whatever manifesting/shifting means to you. be it now. choose it now. decide it now. there's only one moment anyway. when the doubts are "in the past," they only exist in your awareness of what you prescribe the past to be. so, weather the storm, then choose your desired self when you're ready to.

YOUR DOUBTS CAN SERVE YOU. it can be easy to get caught up in the "dealing with doubts" narrative, that you can forget these doubts are just you. everything is you. so, if your doubts are you, they're actually showing you who are you, and there's a ton of information you can glean from them with a keen eye: study them.

get curious, open, and inquisitive, and try to observe the narrative these doubts are telling from an objective perspective. this can be an incredibly beneficial process because it can bring some unconscious assumptions up to the light of your conscious awareness, thus empowering you to shift your assumptions at the root instead of trying to brute force yourself into a better state. if your doubts keep telling the same story over and over again, what are they revealing to you about what you fundamentally believe about yourself?

people in this community can rush to deny doubts so damn fast, but if it's a persistent challenge "dealing with them," then i really do implore people to get self-reflective. i was able to radically shift my consciousness around a few areas of my life when i realized my doubts were a product of an underlying assumption that i wasn't safe in this world, and when i brought that underlying assumption to the surface of my conscious awareness, i was empowered with the opportunity to choose a new narrative: i am safe, i am secure, i am provided for, and i am safe in my body. now, doubts that were formerly connected to this old story don't pester me as much, both in frequency and intensity.

i also started seeing my doubts as fulfillment. you don't know you were on the bridge of incidents until you get to the end. there were times when i would have this nagging anxiety about something, i would get up and take action because i was a ball of jittery energy, only to find out retrospectively that that was the thing that would lead me to exactly what i wanted. i started doubting my doubts less after this happened a couple times, tbh, and i really just let them be what they are, while putting my greater trust in total fulfillment.

YOU ARE NOT YOUR DOUBTS. your doubts are just passing through your awareness, the true you. if manifesting/shifting is a matter of awareness and identification, navigating doubts is just the opposite: reducing the presence of doubts in your awareness by putting your awareness on what you want over what you don't want and de-identifying with the self who is not fulfilled.

doubts are not permanent, but you are eternal. they have no power over you and neither are you a victim to them. let them be. let them pass. and continue to remind yourself: it's already done. it's already yours. everything is already perfect, including you. you are perfect, and you have always been perfect. it's just a matter of remembering the perfection you already are.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

(for the request thing) sometimes i wonder how Volo would feel/react if someone (like arceus’s chosen 👀) took a blow for him from a wild Pokemon or another person. From his perspective, Volo doesn’t have anyone in Hisui that cares about his wellbeing, and the game alludes to him having a troubled and lonely past, and with him having planned on erasing all life in Hisui in pursuit of his desires, would he feel guilt if someone showed him a level of care that would make them sacrifice their safety for his, when he was ready to potentially sacrifice them for his own sake when it came to Arceus?

(also wanna say ive loved your fics on Ao3, so talented <3)

(also on ao3)

You really prefer not to die in front of other people.

The edges of your vision darken as you shove Volo aside, taking the full force of the Alpha Vespiqueen’s attack. You manage to subdue your attacker with a well-aimed sticky glob and ultra ball, but not before suffering an undoubtedly fatal blow.

The consummate merchant comes to you at once, leaning over your fallen body with an oddly indecipherable expression. Usually Volo is abundantly obvious with his feelings, whether he’s passionately rambling about ruins or earnestly praising your efforts as the hero of Hisui. But the man you see now, as your vision begins to blur, simply stares.

“Caught it,” you brag.

His grey eyes widen slightly. You haven’t shared this with him, but you’ve always found them rather beautiful.

“You shouldn’t have…”

“Saved you?” you ask with a dry chuckle. “That’s why I’m here, remember?”

Volo furrows his brow. Reaches out to touch you, then pulls his hand back.

“I sincerely apologize,” he tells you, bowing his head. “If you are to perish in these circumstances, you deserve to know—”

You die and can’t hear the rest.

And then you open your eyes.

You stand on your feet now, in the last place you felt safe before the Pokémon’s attack. Volo still kneels in the distance, seemingly unaware that your body has been replaced by a fallen satchel containing your entire supply of ultraballs, a fire stone, and exactly four medicinal leeks.

You frown. This is going to be awkward.

“Hey, buddy,” you say, coming up carefully behind him. Volo’s back goes rigid at the sound of your voice, his head turning around at once.

“You—you!!”

You rub the back of your neck, sheepish. “Surprise?”

“You died!” Volo exclaims with an accusatory finger-point. “I just saw—” His head swivels to the satchel on the ground, then he turns back to you. “How?”

You sigh and sit down beside him. “Chosen One perk. I die, Arceus says my work isn’t finished yet, I get another shot. It happened for the first time when I fought Lord Kleavor. I had no idea what I was doing, and it took like a dozen tries before I got good.”

Volo looks horrified. “You’ve died a dozen times?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why—”

“My death count’s definitely in the triple digits now. Lord Arcanine was ten times worse than Kleavor, because of all the fire and bullshit arena. At least Lady Liligant was a total pushover.”

“Did it not hurt?” demands Volo, his face growing noticeably pale.

“Oh, it totally hurt,” you admit. “But somebody’s got to deal with it, and I’m the only one around here who’s been made invulnerable by God.”

Volo looks as if he’s been slapped. You suppose that’s fair, considering the shock of witnessing your death and resurrection. But to you, this really is just another Tuesday.

“I know it’s disturbing,” you sigh, putting a hand on his shoulder. His muscles are tense. “That’s why I try my best to make sure people aren’t around to see it. Just easier that way, you know?”

Volo wears another unreadable expression.

“Sucks to lose a satchel, though,” you say, lightly. “Thanks for keeping an eye on it. Without witnesses, I usually lose some of my stuff. Never the plates, though, don’t worry.”

He still looks lost in his thoughts, which is no good. You don’t know how to explain that this happens all the time, for much less important reasons than protecting your favorite person on Hisui. The pain is a small price to pay for his safety, and you’d readily pay it again.

“I thought you died,” Volo eventually says. “Saving my life.”

You elbow him playfully. “I guess Arceus is looking out for you too.”

His expression darkens. “No.”

“No?”

He looks you dead in the eyes, with a different sort of intensity than you’ve come to expect from the eccentric wanderer. “Under an unjust god, endless life is endless pain. Do you truly wish that for yourself? For the world?”

Distantly, you wonder what exactly Volo had thought you deserved to know before your presumed demise. You have a feeling he’s not going to tell you now.

You offer him a hand. “Well, unless you’ve got a better god laying around somewhere, I think we’re stuck with what we’ve got.” And I like what I’ve got, you absolutely do not tell the merchant. I like that I’m here with you.

Volo still seems distracted, but he takes your hand anyway. “Right,” he mutters, and then smiles. “We live to fight another day.”

You rub your thumb against the side of his hand. “And maybe someday, we won’t have to fight. We’ll have everything we need.”

You can picture it, with him. You wonder, maybe foolishly, if he might feel the same way.

Supporting you is actually an investment in my own fortunes, Volo had told you once.

You would protect him regardless of your personal relationship, of course. Just as you protect the rest of this world. You want things to be better, for everyone, and intend to use your god-given powers to ensure that your dream becomes reality.

Volo nods, his sharp gaze fixed on your joined hands. A chill runs down your spine as he squeezes.

“Yes,” he agrees. “Someday.”

You smile softly.

“I think I can live with that.”

[wolfythewitch]

first off- i adore your art, i bought a couple of prints from you a while back and they’re hanging above my desk as a lil piece of inspiration so thank you for that🫶🫡

the question i wanted to ask is kinda weird but - what do you think about when you draw? like does your mind wander? is it abstract thinking or are you thinking about things like perspective, anatomy, etc?? i find myself gettig caught up in my thoughts when i draw so im curious haha (sorry if i worded that poorly my english is kinda shiity sometimes lol)

Thank you!! And hmm it kinda jumps around haha. I think I explained how I think a while back on here, so there isn't any like actual dialogue running through my brain. It jumps from me thinking about any art I can remember that would help me render a piece to like how cool the end is gonna look like to hey I'm hungry I want food and I need to piss but if I get up I'll ruin the vibe to this shoulder is too extended I need to move it closer, etc. sometimes a song will be playing out somewhere in there. but I don't usually think about the art itself? At least, I don't really like to, cause it makes me overthink everything. It's why I like putting on music or listening to my audiobooks, because then it's very "I blacked out and now I have a drawing"

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

Not a day goes by I don't think of Nexus.

And I don't think I will ever get the point or his purpose in the story.

I know the point. Some times people change for the worse and there is nothing you can really do about it and it wouldn't have as much of an impact if it was another character besides the main character.

But going from main character to side content villian is like....

I thought it was character assassination then, I still think it is now.

It doesn't help that since of the improv nature of the show, details about him are swiftly abandoned and forgotten. To the point where Moon's bad behavior is put on Nexus.

The problem is that the devil is in the details. But no one remembers the details.

Like how Nexus started forcefully entering people's minds and breaking them because Monty did the same to him when he was in containment when he was a 100 percent innocent man. Yet this is never brought up or talked in length about. Nexus was treated that way, and he was giving back. Yes, an awful choice but he was given no tools and the resentment for his family came from an understanding place. Until it didn't. Until they kept upping the stakes to remind you "No, Nexus is not relatable he's a bad evil guy doing bad evil things and will literally kill everyone without stopping and he won't make different choices."

He's often regarded as a tool that served his purpose and I'm pretty sure the actors really didn't care or think about what a villain arc would mean for the title character Moon of the sun and moon show. What someone grieving that heavily and deeply and someone caring so much and changing the narrative to say it was about ego the whole time. Or it transformed into ego.

The consequences of doubling down.

I've seen this with Bloodmoon to a lesser extent as well. (Even Sun sometimes to a degree ) If they don't care about a specific character, you as a fan are not supposed to, because you're stupid if you think these characters are supposed to have any redeeming qualities or depth to them or find them relatable in anyway, right?

Nexus himself becomes a buttmonkey. The butt of the joke and just an edge lord full of spite with no emotion or anything else and just a husk where the character no longer remains. He's a tool. He's a joke. He's clickbait. He's Sun's mistakes. He's the inability to let go, ironically.

To be clear, I don't condone harassment of any of the VAs for how they write THEIR story with their characters. That'd be absolutely stupid and ridiculous.

I'm just coming to terms that, I don't get Nexus. Meta wise, writing wise and from a story perspective. And probably never will.

[httpuckdrop]

ashes – day 138

jack had your valentine's day planned out long before the day arrived. a cute little picnic out in the february sun, with all of your favorite snacks and possibly even some painting. but when the day finally arrived, you both woke up to a storm.

typical jack to not check the weather beforehand.

however, the day was far from ruined. instead, you had your picnic in jack's living room, spending the day listening to the raindrops against the windows and just enjoying each others' presence. jack eventually brought out his old photo albums from when he and his brothers were still kids – ones you had never seen before, because otherwise you would've been obsessing over them every day up until now.

"this is from luke's tenth birthday," jack said, pointing at a picture of his brother with his face stuffed full of cake. in the next one, a dalmatian was licking whipped cream off his face. "our dog, amber. not nearly as calm as you could think from just looking at her."

"she looks sweet, though," you commented, eyes flickering over another picture of amber fast asleep in jack's embrace.

"her looks betray her." jack shuffled a little closer to you on the couch, side of his head leaning against yours. "i've been thinking about getting a new one, actually."

"a dog?"

"no, a new brother." he hissed when your elbow thrust into his side. "maybe not a dalmatian specifically, but… i don't know. i've just thought about it."

the next page showed a few pictures of jack on a stage, sitting in front of a grand piano in a pretty suit. he can't have been more than 13, and your eyebrows rose at the sight. "a piano man, huh?"

he rolled his eyes. "mom forced me to take classes. i hated it at first, but then…" he shrugged. "i kept it up for five years, and it grew on me. it was kind of nice to have something else to focus on other than hockey."

you never could've guessed that he would have done something like that. jack was so sporty, a very typical jock boy – he seemed more likely to be the one making fun of the music nerds than be one himself.

even when you'd spent so much time with him, you realized that you still had so much to learn about him; so many new sides to discover, so many layers to unravel.

frightening? no, exciting.

"i remember this one time when i was fourteen… quinn and luke were at some friend's house, so i was the only child at home. and our parents were fighting." your gaze fell to his hand which was resting all lonely on his thigh, so you took it in yours. "they were, like, yelling and everything. and i couldn't do anything about it. so i just sat down at the piano at home, and… played." you could feel the shakiness in the deep breath he took, but you didn't say anything, instead settling for a squeeze of his hand. "i think i did it to drown out the sound. it was the only thing i could control."

of course. his need for stability and to always be in control was deeply rooted in him. it made so much sense being put in perspective with your relationship; he craved the stability of knowing you're there with him and he hated the way you pulled away, leaving him unsure.

"what made you quit?" you hummed after a few long moments of silence.

"hockey was getting more serious… and the guys on the team didn't really think it was cool to spend my free time learning how to play classical pieces."

"i'm sure you still remember something," you said, head resting on his shoulder. "you should play for me sometime."

"i promise." he kissed the top of your head before flipping over to the last page of the book, revealing even more pictures of little jack – this time with a big, red bruise on the side of his cheek and boxing gloves covering his hands. "oh, right. i used to box."

"oh, you were a little fighter, huh?" you joked. "how come?"

"hockey wasn't enough. i wanted to be physical off the ice, too." his tone was lighthearted, yet there was a hint of sincerity in it. "something about it made me feel… invincible, you know? knowing that i could take a hit and still stand to deliver one of my own."

"uh uh. sounds totally sane."

he reached up to flick your forehead with his fingers, before giving your hand a gentle squeeze as an apology. "i guess, as a kid, i felt… powerless? a lot of the time. especially when my parents argued. and boxing helped with that," he said, and you could feel him nodding along to his words. "once, my dad came home from a night out with a black eye, and i've never felt so useless. i wanted to be able to fight back for him. or myself. or anyone else who needs it."

you want to protect them, you thought to yourself. his protective instinct was clear as day – even in the way he couldn't not be there for you, even when you said you didn't need a relationship or someone to take care of you.

he didn't fight just to fight. he fought to protect. it was the same thing with his fight at the first game of his you attended; he punched that rangers player to protect his teammate, not because he wanted to injure him.

"my coaches told me that i had to quit once i joined the ntdp, though. it made sense, since i never thought i'd have to use it in real life," jack said with a shrug. "so i didn't argue. but, in some twisted way, boxing made me less physical on the ice. like i had an outlet, somewhere to just let it all go, so i could just skate away from arguments on the ice."

"you're a good man, jack hughes," you said, leaning slightly to the side so that you could look up at him, glistening eyes studying his features. "you know that, right?"

he paused for a few moments, merely breathing as his gaze fell on you. "i'm good because of you. you make me want to be good."

[qwardivior]

CHATT I never post Alien Stage on here but I find it necessary to share some analysis I did for Ivan’s new song Paratise because BOYYYYY DOES IT HAVE ME TWEAKINGGG. My friends and I analyzed the teaser for it a couple days ago and when I tell you WORD FOR WORD BAR FOR BAR WE WERE CORRECT IN ITS MEANING!! Ok anyway… (shout out to suyeonr2 in the yt comment section for the translation, we couldn’t do it without you)

Ivan combined the terms “paradise” and “Parasite” on purpose and its genius.

Ivan wished to leave an impression on Till no matter what so he wouldn’t forget him. It was a selfish act of love and he did that through his death. And by the time Till noticed his affection it was too late, it was already the end. Till would only notice his romantic feelings once he’s already dead.

So his memory, the visage of his dead body and confused feelings are stuck inside Till like a parasite. For Ivan this is perfect! Living rent free in Till’s head is his own paradise! But for Till it’s a parasitic entity, one that ended up draining his life in the end.

AND THIS IS ABSOLUTELY CRAZY BECAUSE IVAN KNOWSSS HES CRAZY IN THE SONG. We get the emotion that he knows deep down it’s wrong but he wants it anyway aaaaa hence the name “Paratise”. It’s two halves of a whole tragedy.

Like right here we see how it’s almost like a symbiotic relationship even though Till really doesn’t benefit from it in the slightest. AND THE REFERENCES TO ROUND 7?? Ivan wanted to haunt Till’s whole being down to the music coming out of his mouth and he did that. It costed Till his life in the end so I wonder if Ivan would be satisfied knowing the memory of him was so painful to Till that it killed him.

This whole thing is messed up in a way that perfectly highlights the tragedy of Alnst. Not only are they being forced into a death game, but they also don’t understand love like we do.

Looking at this from a purely objective standpoint it’s toxic in every sense of the word. Till not understanding his feelings, Ivan wanting to die so Till can look at him deeper and remember him regardless of what it took. But looking at it from the perspective of alien stage this changes. For normal humans like us it’s toxic but for them it’s sweet. They don’t have cultural norms like we do so they act like “animals” in the sense that they’re pets. It’s all they have.

Like they said in the beginning, the true meaning of “human” has been lost, and if to be “human” is to believe in “god” then that’s what they’ll do. But they don’t know what “god” is. It’s just someone they love wholeheartedly (obsessively). They revolve around them like the earth around the sun. But this is unhealthy. In healthy relationship advice you’re told to NEVER do this because humans are imperfect and when you put your trust in an imperfect being both of you crash and burn. We see this a lot in Alnst —> Mizi after sua died , till after Ivan died, and now Luka after Hyuna died.

But they don’t know that because humans need something greater than themselves to keep them going. Chat not only is Alnst tragic it’s also a commentary on the human condition when put in situations as extreme as this. They’re literally a textbook abusive/toxic relationship but it’s all they have. It’s tragic man.

Alien stage drives me crazy sometimes. I should really look into happier media

(@nurukiki I posted it come cry with me)

[dropthedemiurge]

Love for Love's Sake - Lee Taevin (Tae Myungha role) commentary

[Extra content from Bluray boxset]

If you take it to other platforms, please leave credit and original link. And don't share links to videos publicly as well, thank you ^^

[Translation by AmetistLex]

Q. What did you think when you received the script for "Love for Love's Sake"?

When I first read the script, I looked up the original novel. It felt like many different genres were mixed in this story, not only romance. So I thought if this story got made into a drama, it'll be an incredible series. That was my first impression of it.

Q. Are there any memorable adlibs?

Honestly, I like improvising on set a lot. But because my real personality sometimes slipped in, a lot of moments ended up being edited out. For example, I remember in the scene where I'm choosing sport shoes for Yeowoon and Sia was holding blue and white pair. I picked the blue shoes, but then looked at the second pair and said "Should I buy them as well?~". But it got cut.

Q. Any story about post-recording?

We had a lot of scenes filmed outside. When there was a lot of sounds of grasshoppers and crickets, we had to do really long dubbing sessions. I also ran a lot in the show and had to re-record my breathing for those scenes as well, all those "huh"s. I remember that I ran very diligently in the recording studio while watching the footage to match my breath. I think I ran for 3-4 hours... I even had to re-record my crying again in the studio.

Q. What was difficult during filming?

Synchronizing Myungha and myself was the hardest part, of course. To be honest, I kind of like adding cuteness to my characters when I'm acting, as well as manly charm? Can I even call it like that? Some sweet vibes, to put it nicely. So matching it with Myungha and tuning these vibes down was quite tough.

Q. What was the most joyful thing about filming?

When we filmed the happy scenes of Myungha hanging out with Yeowoon? I think I there were the most joyful moments. And when we ate some tasty food with Yeowoon, like samgyeopsal and tteokbokki. I was very happy then.

Q. How much Myungha and Lee Taevin are in sync?

When I first read the script, I thought we were alike only for 10%. Myungha was a very tough character to approach. But after going through script readings and inspecting scenes over and over, I felt like Myungha was similar to me for 50%. And during filming, I think we ended up becoming almost the same person.

Q. Outstanding Cha Yeowoon scene in your opinion?

There are so many! Yeowoon has a 'pocari' (sports drink) and 'I love you' scenes. He has a lot of pretty close-up shots, I think they are outstanding because Yeowoon's face did a lot of work there. And there was that break-up scene... ah, not the break-up one, the scene where he said a lot of 'don't' phrases. "Don't run away from me", "Don't get close to me..." ah no, he wouldn't say that. But there's a scene where he said all "don't" lines, like "Don't avoid me". I think, Yeowoon really captured the emotions very well with his acting then, so I really love this scene.

Q. What are Tae Myungha's strengths and flaws in your opinion?

Myungha doesn't look like it but he cries very easily. That's his strength. Flaw? ...He cries too easily.

Q. Tae Myungha and Cha Yeowoon are still living well, right?

In the present time? Tae Myungha and Cha Yeowoon are very happy. Cha Joowan and Lee Taevin are living very well now too.

Q. How do you think the actor Lee Taevin will remember "Love for Love's Sake" after 10 years?

Oh, you mean LFLS Season 10 that we just finished filming a few days ago? Well, we finished it only a few days ago, so... We're having a great time!

*cut to serious face* LFLS is a project that went beyond being just work for me, it really managed to delivery a message to me. It was a project that made me contemplate about happiness, love and relationships once again. It changed the things I value and my perspective on life. I think even after 10 years, I'll remember it as a project that was able to change me into a different person.

Q. From Lee Taevin to fans?

Dear Residents*, thank you for always supporting me. Some of you know me through LFLS, some residents are from my MyTeen (idol group) days. I hope you know for sure that the support from you gives me a lot of strength. I'm sincerely happy thanks to you. I hope you are happy too. Thank you.

Please don't ever forget LFLS. Thank you.

(*Taevin's fandom is "Taevin's Village" and fans are called "Residents" **I'm not sure about English translation that's used, I'm translating directly from Korean xD)

// other Love Supremacy Zone extra content /