#i’ve got several different types

[theoryofwhatnow]

fuck it, do you guys want to see some scrapped like minds art?

[fistfuloflightning]

Seeing @fixaidea’s hilarious body type post instantly triggered my tol & smol radar and now I want Mo Ran/Wei Wuxian content so bad 😩

[steddielations]

Eddie’s queer awakening Part 2 | Part 1

Steve doesn’t know what else to do to make Eddie realize he likes him. Never in his life has he had to work this hard at winning someone over. Never.

Even with Nancy in high school, there was always a hint that she wanted him to chase her, which made it worthwhile. Sometimes, Eddie will do something that makes Steve sure he feels the same, flirting back. Then Eddie will do something that makes Steve not so sure, laughing it off.

Steve doesn’t like resorting to bullshit queer stereotypes because he doesn’t exactly fit them either, but Eddie looks like those rugged guys on his posters and album covers. Sometimes it feels like a masculinity performance worthy of King Steve, but sometimes it feels genuine.

Eddie’s not dressing like Bowie, but he prances around on cafeteria tables yelling about sodomy and he’s never had a girlfriend that Steve knows of. He could like both, same as Steve, of course. Or it could be nothing, of course. Steve’s just putting all these moves on a straight boy, about to get his heart broken again.

Robin’s given him countless pep talks, assuring him that he’s right about Eddie when he starts to doubt it. “You sniffed Vickie out just from her VHS returns. If anyone has a functional queer detector here, it’s you. Trust it.”

“What if I ask him out and he rejects me?” Steve fully understands Robin’s worries now, it’s not the same as getting shot down by a girl. “I’ve got enough rumors about me already.” They all wanted to say it in high school, calling Steve a pretty boy in tight pants that spent too much time in the mirror.

Tommy used to shoot them all down. Now he’s not by Steve’s side, snarling at anyone who suggests it. Which was mostly just Tommy trying to convince himself that everything they did under the covers at sleepovers was “just guy stuff”, and he convinced Steve too. To the point where Steve hadn’t even considered any different until a few months ago when he told Robin and— yeah, that was an eventful conversation. The first time he stumbled across the word bisexual— from a Bowie interview in one of Robin’s magazines— it felt like something clicked into place.

“I don’t think Eddie’s the type to out anyone, either way.” Robin’s right. She’s not always right, everything would be easier if she was, but she’s right about that.

“I keep having to pretend to like his shitty weed to get him to come over. Not even the yawn and stretch move worked on him. Y’know, this,” Steve demonstrates, stretching an arm above his head and then draping it over Robin’s shoulder. She shrugs him off with a fake gag. “I kept looking at his lips and I thought we were gonna kiss, but he laughed and poked me in the ribs and called me dude.”

Robin listens to all his boy troubles and then they come up with a plan. Steve decides he’s going to come out to Eddie, just put it out there that he likes guys. In a totally platonic way and hopefully that gets the ball rolling the other way, where he tells Eddie he likes one guy in particular and hopes all his Romeo efforts don’t blow up in his face.

So he goes for it. Eddie strolls into Family Video and picks out a movie that Steve’s actually heard of for once. It’s easy for Steve to throw him a smile and invite himself over. “You know this is the closest thing to a romance movie you’ve picked? No way I’m letting you watch this alone, somebody’s gotta hold your hand through the sad ending, looks like it’s gonna be me.”

Several emotions fly across Eddie’s face, landing on overwhelmed disbelief. “I don’t get it, man. How do you not have a girlfriend? You’d be so easy to fall in love with. Hell, I feel like you've made me fall halfway in love with you already. If I was a girl, I’d date the shit out of you.”

It looks like Eddie wants to clap a hand over his mouth as soon as the words leave it.

Steve watches him carefully, trying to think clearly over his heart pounding in his chest because Eddie just said he loves him, kind of. This is it. “Would you still date me as a guy?”

Eddie’s nervous hands jingle with chain bracelets as they tug his hair and hide his face. “You mean, objectively? As a guy would I date another guy? I mean, could I want that? I hadn’t really considered that option until now. Uh. Shit. Wow, this is-”

“Because I would, you know,” Steve jumps to say, as earnestly as he can, needing Eddie to finally know. How could he not know? This is it. Steve didn’t come all this way just to tap out at the finish line. He goes for it. “I’d date you as a guy, Eddie. I’d date the shit out of you, too, just like you are.”

Eddie’s face is flushed now, his eyes wide and swimming with both questions and realizations. Steve snaps out of it for a second, looking around to see the store is thankfully empty, Robin’s still on her break, but this isn’t the place for this conversation.

“Wanna talk about it over the movie tonight?” He offers.

It moors Eddie, he relaxes more and Steve hopes he’s not imagining the faint hint of a smile. “Yeah, that’s— yeah, talk. I can do that.”

“Okay, it’s a date. See you then.” Steve hands over the tape, their fingers brushing and making warmth flutter all through him. He watches Eddie halfway trip out the door, running into it once and pulling on it three times before pushing it open.

Steve can’t stop grinning, thinking about later, determined to tell Eddie he’s already in love with him too.

[leonardcohenofficial]

there’s a great write up by someone on here that i will have to search for in which they discuss how the ultimate evil for david lynch is sexual violence against women (even more severe than murder, which is often auxiliary to that type of specific violence); twin peaks is incredibly soapy—on purpose! lynch and frost are playing with form and content on purpose to examine incredibly difficult subject matter through a (for lack of a better word) more palatable format—which most of the time i think works to its advantage and makes those moments of visible horror so much more effective (i use “visible” rather than “true” or other similar adjectives because the horror is always there, it’s embedded in the entire town, shows up in every generation we see in screen and we watch them grapple with it in different ways, but that’s a separate post)

however—and i’ve talked about this before—i find that once you’ve watched fire walk with me it is so much harder to watch the show because the ignorance of nearly every single member of the town (yes, including cooper) pervades the way the action unfolds. twin peaks viewers knew the premise of the show going in and we get to discover details and information alongside the characters. when albert rosenfield comes in as the only voice of reason and reality, it’s set up to be jarring to both the townspeople and to the viewer. why?

sheryl lee said in an interview, “fire walk with me was very difficult for me to watch… and, emotionally it’s a reminder: this is a movie, but this continues to happen every day and how can we stop it? when i watch fire walk with me now, as a mother, i watch it and i think look at all those signs that were being exhibited. this girl was in danger, and look at all these people that were in her life. what would have happened if someone, somewhere, somehow could have helped or stopped it? that’s hard to watch.”

much has been discussed critically about fire walk with me and whether or not it’s exploitative in the ways that it portrays sexual violence against women. while lynch does not shy away from making that violence visible, it is done so in an attempt to make the viewer examine their own relationship to that violence and how it shows up in their own lives. the audience is forced to think about the ways that they are complicit in how and why these violent acts occur and what they can do to stop it, which is why for many it is an uncomfortable watch. for others, it is a painful (and speaking from my own perspective) necessary watch because lynch didn’t make a horror movie, he made a documentary.

fire walk with me is necessary (in my humblest of opinions) to understand why the pieces that lynch and frost put into twin peaks work. there’s so much backstory to how they weren’t originally going to reveal who laura palmer’s killer was until ABC made them, lynch wasn’t around during much of the second season so things got a little off the rails storytelling-wise, etc. etc. but fire walk with me allows them to tie difficult, often horrifying threads (ben horne unknowingly attempting to have sex with his daughter, the townspeople’s distancing of albert, the hands of random townspeople trembling as BOB attempts to claw back into the material world, the list goes on and on) back to the central thesis of “sexual violence is the ultimate evil, it is completely avoidable, and you have a responsibility to recognize the signs and stop being complicit”

[outro-jo]

kissing skz goodbye

pairing: skz x reader

type: reaction

warnings: none

a/n: please read info before requesting update: if you saw that pic of felix before, no you didn’t. upon further investigation that was not even felix and pinterest has done me dirty. this is why we don’t look for photos and post at like 1am 🙃

masterlist | info

——————————

chan- it’s amazing chis was even asleep but he was and you know that if you left before him and didn’t kiss him that he’d pout about it all day. did he jump a little? yes but he melted right into your lips in no time. he let out a groan, his voice still raspy with sleep. his arms wrapped around your waist and because he was so much stronger than you, your body fell right into his.

“i’m not gonna let you go just yet.”

lee know- this was purely to annoy him. he HATES being woken up but nonetheless you had to do your job as a partner. you gave several pecks in a row, lingering longer on the last one. to your surprise a hand came up to the back of your head and the kiss was deepened. 

“do this again and i’ll kill you.”

changbin- will also pout if he doesn’t get a kiss before you go to work. you’ll get texts throughout the day teasing that you don’t love him and how could he possibly be with someone so cruel. so to save yourself the headache on such a busy day, you leaned down and gave him a gentle kiss on his cheek. as you turned to walk out, a hand caught yours at the last second and you heard him whine.

“nooo, kiss me properly, baby.”

hyunjin- kisses were spread all throughout your morning routine. when you first opened your eyes and rolled over, you brushed his hair back to admire his beautiful features in sleep before softly kissing them. then a quick peck after your shower on your way to change. lastly, a long kiss to his lips that finally causes him to stir and then return the kiss.

“have a good day, my love.”

han- you know better than to leave a room let alone the house without kissing your boyfriend goodbye. your kisses are like a drug to him and he can’t go more than a few hours without begging for them. you give him a kiss to each cheek to wake him slightly, gently letting him know what’s coming next. his lips poke out while his eyes are still closed. letting you know he’s ready for you and you lean down once more, giving him a final kiss before you have to go.

“i love you, baby.”

felix- lix is so stunning when he sleeps. his bare face littered with freckles and relaxed features looking younger in sleep. you almost hate to wake him up even a little but you can’t help but to kiss him before you leave. not only would he be upset if you didn’t but your heart would ache without one last kiss. your hand rests on his cheek, stroking it with your thumb as you lean down. felix isn’t scared or even fazed by your affections. instead he kisses you right back and reaches up to keep you in place for a little longer. 

“such a perfect way to wake up.”

seungmin- sleep is such a precious thing to seungmin but if he was honest, you’re even more precious. the first time you left for work before he was up, you got to hear about it when you got home that evening. he wasn’t really sulking or anything, but was just talking about your absence like it was fact. you got the idea. from then on you remembered to kiss him goodbye. the room was still dark as the curtains were drawn and you leaned over him, pushing his hair off his forehead before kissing his lips. you felt him smile before kissing you back.

“bye, darling.”

jeongin- though he can sleep though anything, jeongin still knows when you leave without kissing him. you joke that it’s like kissing a mannequin but he insist you do it anyways. this morning was a little different because he had just returned home from tour and wanted to savor every moment he could with you. it surprised you when his lips moved against yours and his hand came up to caress your cheek. his nose nuzzling yours as your lips parted to still keep you close to him. 

“i’ve missed this.”

[wakeup01]

Two Twinks, One Wish

“So Charlie, what did you wish for Christmas?”

“Really? Can we just watch the movie?” I say, annoyed.

Daniel had been my boyfriend for about a month now and had recently moved into my flat, just in time for Christmas. Since then things had been a struggle, he would continually whine about my inadequacies - how I didn’t tidy enough, didn’t appreciate him and most of all how I was a terrible top.

See, the problem was, we were both twinks. We had the same skinny body type, with barely any muscle definition. The only real difference being he had the better ass. Admittedly, I had a severe lack of confidence in the bedroom, frequently failing to get in the mood. Daniel on the other hand was very particular about what he liked and what he expected.

“Come on! You must be able to think of something. God knows there’s enough things you can be better at…” Daniel chastised.

Even now he had turned a harmless movie night into another chance to take petty digs. We were on the couch watching some cheesy xmas film, where the protagonist makes wishes that magically come true. Now he was insisting for me to make some stupid wish.

“Why don’t you go first? You seem to have a lot of ideas in mind.” I shoot back, not taking my eyes off the screen.

“Hmm, I got the perfect one! Charlie, I wish… you were a better top!” He laughs and nudges into my shoulder.

I roll my eyes, of course, I should of guessed this is where things were heading. Ugh. Out of nowhere I feel a chill wash over my whole body and a tightness take hold in my chest. After a moment the feeling subsides.

“Very funny. Have you been thinking that one up all night.” My voice dripping in sarcasm.

I shift in my seat slightly, a dull warmth emanating from my crotch. I must be feeling unwell, I’m definitely not being turned on by his degrading remarks. But the heat doesn’t fade, in fact it only grows in intensity. I get the impulse to grope at my growing bulge, the tightness straining against my jeans. Daniel would never live it down If I did, but it was becoming rather uncomfortable.

“You look a little flustered there… ah. I see. Are you really getting horny from this? Christ, you’re pathetic.” Daniel scolds, reaching his hand down.

Before I can object he unzips my trousers and pulls down the waistband of my briefs. My cock bursts forth and slaps against my chest, pre already leaking from it’s tip. Except it’s not my cock, this monster is almost twice my normal size. And my balls are inflating in front of my very eyes.

“What the hell?” I shout.

“Woah, oh shit, it’s working. It’s a Christmas miracle!” He exclaims in barely contained glee.

“Daniel, what did you do!” My voice cracks.

My dick continues to snake up my torso, going from 5 inches, to 7 then to 8. As it grows, so does my hornyness, overpowering my head as I fall into a drunken stupor. This is the most intense erection I’ve ever felt. My hand rubs up and down the entire length and I attempt to wrap my fingers around it, before discovering its girth is now thicker than my hand.

“Nice cock ‘bro’. Good tops are well equipped downstairs. And now, you are too. Hahaha” I look over and see him smirk at me.

He’s enjoying this far too much for my liking, but I’m in no position to fight back. Why did he make that stupid wish, I better not be stuck with this forever. At this point I don’t think my cock would even fit into any underwear I own. How exactly can I walk around with this thing swinging between my legs.

“You know who makes good tops? Jocks. That cocky attitude and carefree nature, coasting through life without thinking.” Daniel suggests, wistfully.

Jocks are also narcissistic morons. And I’m certainly not going to be one just to be a better ‘top’. I’m suddenly distracted by a chafing from my rear, a pair of straps seem to be cupping the cheeks of my tight butt. Below my balls now sits a stained pouch, the smell of musk rising from it hits my nose and I recoil.

“I think it’s jockstraps only from now on Charlie. And woof, sweaty ones at that.”

All of my senses are being overpowered, it’s like my head is in a vice that keeps on tightening. The film in front of me becomes a blur, my focus shattered by the intense pleasure from my new cock.

“Cock.” I blurt out.

I hear Daniel laughing from out of view.

My head is starved of oxygen as all the blood rushes to my groin, I’ve never been this horny before. I feel the strangest sensation as my brain thickens, filling up with throbbing meat. All the space padded out until I’m holding up a heavy dumbbell on the end of my neck. My thoughts were still there, somewhere, but it took so long to find them. It was quicker and easier to just embrace jockdom, stop worrying so much and just go along with the flow. If I was unsure of what to say then bro, I’d just say ‘bro’! A bro can fill in sentences with ‘bro’ and everyone will know what a bro they are. And bro? Being labeled as a dumb bro means no one expects anything meaningful from me. Brawn over brains is the mantra of my life dude.

“Jock’s also like to wear their bro-hood on their sleeves, and in your case, quite literally.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth I feel a sharp pain, as if a hundred needles are stabbing down my arm. I brace myself before glancing down. And there it was, 🍖 the meat emoji tattooed on my left hand. Huhhuh, awesome bro. Branded a meathead for life.

“Bro?” I ask slowly, my voice now considerably deeper.

“Yeah ‘Chad?’” Daniel emphasises.

The name immediately sticks to me like glue. Chad. I am such a Chad. I have some distant recollection of being someone else, but I can’t be bothered to search my brain for it. There’s a more pressing concern.

“Bruh, I need to empty my balls.” I grunt. The pressure from my engorged member becoming unbearable.

“Then you know what to do. Good muscle tops have their cocks milked every day.”

I grip my cock and begin pumping in earnest, my jaw hanging open. As I masturbate, my hands and arms bulk up with muscle. I see my veins very noticeably pop out. I feel a desperate urge to flex, letting one hand go from my dick. I ball it into a fist and raise it to the side of my head, squeezing my biceps. My arm pulses with meat, sending a vain satisfaction to my pleasure center.

“Good dumb tops spend all their time in the gym or on the field. Sculpting their body into the perfect chiselled shape.” His nasally voice instructs.

Muscle continues to form all over my lithe frame; my shoulders broaden and my chest ripples into a tight 6 pack. My clothes are loudly ripped to shreds. Memories enter my head of spending hours working out, of hanging with the other jocks and forming a vacant facade of a personality. Sweat drips from my hairy armpits, staining the couch under me. The room quickly starts smelling like a gym, my rank feet tearing free from my socks. My face cracks as it squares out into a more defined outline, brow growing heavy above my distant eyes. My body is now taking up most of the couch as Daniel budges over to the side. I quicken my pace, pumping now with both hands. My balls tighten.

“Fuck yeah brah.” I roar, reaching climax.

My cock spurts rope after rope of musky cum directly at my face, I’m left covered in my own seed. Daniel leans over to me and begins to eagerly lick at my face. He savours my taste on his tongue before swallowing. The sign of an expert bottom, huhuhu.

“Mmm. Great Tops know how to take control. And you’re a great top Chad.” Daniel moans in lust.

He’s right.

“Dude, this film is fucking dull. I’m changing to the sports channel bro. There’s a sick game playing today.” My hands take the remote and switch to a noisy football game.

I grab Daniels’s tiny little body and force him onto my lap. I flex again and push his face into my armpit. His tongue drags along my wiry dank hair. He moves his hand between my legs and starts passionately fingering his hungry ass hole, using my cum as lube. I hear him panting heavily like a dog. Man, my boyfriend is such a whiny brat…

“Bro, it’s my turn.” My cocky voice booms.

“What?” I hear his muffled voice cry out.

“Uhh… I wish… I wish you were a Bro like me, Bro.” I smirk.

“Wait, noooo!” He screams.

His body shudders and contorts as I hold his face to my pits with my newfound strength. He packs on pounds of muscle in a matter of seconds. Dan’s moaning turns to grunts. He’s going to make for such a Good. Arrogant. Dumb. Bro.

I watch his dong stretch down his leg, his balls sagging between his thickening thighs. The head of Dan’s veiny cock leaking like a faucet. A pair of juicy pecs push out from his chest and his adam apple swells. I pull away the remains of his clothes, letting them fall to the ground.

Dan’s dainty feet beef up to a size 12, sweat gathering between his toes - smelling like a real man should. I feel his previously fat bubble butt tense with lean muscle on my lap. With a squeak, his thoroughly abused fuck hole tightens shut, never to be stretched open again. He only tops after all, like me.

I release my grip on him and he pulls away, my sweat covering his square jawed face. He stuffs his junk into a jockstrap, looking barely concealed as it throbs with need. His messy hair has receded into a clean as fuck buzzcut. We now look almost identical, except that his meat emoji 🍖 tattoo is engraved on his right hand.

“Bro!” Dan’s voice deepens.

“Let’s go find some sluts to breed, bro.” We both smirk at each other and flex.

[borahaerhy]

One shot where Jungkook and reader are staying at one of their parents house and it’s night time already but Jungkook wants you but you’re shy and you guys have to be quiet so they are doing it slow and deep but reader is hugging Jungkooks neck and he’s moaning on her ear and kissing her neck while also talking quietly to her if she likes it . daddy kink! He’s huge! If requests are still open plz

omg-

Good Girl - jjk

Genre: Fluffy Smut, established relationship

Warnings: Smut, Y/n's nervous, Emotional sex, unprotected sex (nope), Dom/sub themes, Daddy kink, praise kink, pet names, dirty talk, these two are really in love and it's kinda sickening,

Word count: 1.9K

The past week has been absolutely perfect.

You were so anxious to meet Jungkook’s parents, having been with their son for almost five whole years without more than a few conversations over the phone with them, but you were happily surprised when you landed in Korea and were met with the sweetest people you’d ever met - aside from their son, of course.

You met your boyfriend, Jungkook, at the company you worked. You were a training producer, and he was one of the new paid interns, getting coffee and sending emails. He didn’t know very much english whenever the two of you met, but that definitely didn’t stop him from flirting with you every time he asked you for your coffee order.

He had just moved from Korea after accepting a job at one of his dream record labels, the label you just so happened to work at.

That was nearly five years ago, and Jungkook had been wanting to make a trip back to visit his family for a while now; and you’d obviously have to be a part of that. You’d always been the shy type, never one to really initiate conversation or do anything out of the norm, something Jungkook found endearing when you’d first begun talking.

So, the thought of going to a different country to meet his family while you barely knew the language seemed extremely daunting. But then you got there, and everyone was just so nice to you, and you genuinely couldn’t be more thankful.

“How do you feel about going home tomorrow, Gguk?” You wrapped your arms around Jungkook’s waist from behind him, back hugging him when you noticed him looking out the window without saying anything after his shower for a bit too long. He held your arms as they held him, his fingers tracing delicately along your skin as he leaned into your touch.

“I wish we could stay longer, I’ve had such a great time,” you nodded as you delicately pressed a kiss to his shoulder. He sighed as he turned around, you loosening your arms only long enough for him to face you, then you tightened them around him once again as he brought his hands to cup your cheeks, rubbing his thumb gently just how he knows you like it. You melt into him slightly, his touch always having that effect on you. “But we have to get back to work, and you probably miss home.”

You smiled softly, yet solemnly as you knew how much he’s been looking forward to this trip, and how much he’ll miss his family once you have to leave again.

“Yeah, but I’m glad I got to see your home; you make a lot more sense now that I’ve met your mom.”

“I make more sense?” Your smile only gets wider as you look down slightly.

“Yeah, you know, you’re just so sweet and sensitive, even though you definitely don’t look like it,” You pause, referencing the large sleeve of tattoos and several piercings gracing his delicate yet strong features. “And after meeting your mom I realize it’s because you’re exactly like her.”

He scoffs, squishing your cheek slightly. “I am not exactly like Eomma, I’m way less of a perfectionist and I definitely don’t nag as much,”

Says the man that spent 3 hours decorating your bedroom for valentines day, because he had to make sure every rose petal was at the exact right spot. And he might not nag, but he will rewash every dish after you’ve already done them because you don't do them in the exact way he does; though he loves and appreciates your effort.

You giggle as you raise your arms, taking a few steps backwards before you turn around and jump on the bed, adjusting yourself so that you’re resting against the pillows, your leg crossed over the other as you still tried to remain modest while wearing nothing but underwear and an oversized t-shirt. You grabbed the book you’d been reading from off the bedside table, opening it up to where you left off.

“You’re adorable, you know that?” You look back up, Jungkook still standing at the foot of the bed looking at you with complete adoration. You couldn’t stop the blush from creeping up your cheeks, nor the smile that spread across your reddening face. “In a like, really sexy kind of way,” Jungkook took a few slow, long strides to the side of the bed you were seated on, lifting the book gently from your hands and putting it back on the table you’d just picked it up from.

“I was reading that,” You lightly protested, not fully looking him in the eye as he crawled onto the bed, his arms caging you in as he climbs between your legs.

“Mmm, my apologies,” His lips were on your neck before there was even time to remember that you were still in his parents house, in his old bedroom right next to theirs.

“Jungkook,” You lightly pressed on his chest, his face quickly moving up so that his eyes could meet yours, immediately searching your face for any signs that you were uncomfortable. “Your parents are going to hear us,” you were basically whispering now, as Jungkook’s light smile soon returned.

“I know you know how to be quiet, love,” You bit your lip, moving your eyes from Jungkook to look at the door. He moved to hold your face softly, bringing your attention back to him, a more serious expression on his face than before. “If you don’t want to-”

“No, I want to,” you reassured him, the heat between your legs as he hovered over you was deniable to no one; you just didn’t want his parents to feel disrespected in their own home.

“Then let me take care of you, baby,” His smile returned as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. He Let himself relax down onto you as your wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him further into you. His hands quickly made their way up your shirt, his fingers ghosting up to your waist until they stopped there, gripping onto you softly as he deepened the kiss.

He always knew exactly how you liked to be touched; something he credited to not being fluent in english when the two of you met. He had to rely heavily on your body language to understand how you felt. So when you started dating and he was able to touch you, he always made sure to notice every little movement you made, knowing that even though you spoke more of the same language, you still weren’t one to be very vocal about your own wants and needs, and even when things made you uncomfortable.

So when he left soft grazing kisses right below your ear that turned warmer and wetter the further down he got, he knew you’d let out a small hum in response, running your fingers through his hair before pulling it gently. He hummed into your neck lightly as he slowly began to lift your shirt up higher and higher, your nipples hardening at the cool air coming in contact with you as he pulled the shirt over your head.

As he threw your shirt to the side, he couldn’t help but stay sitting up for a little longer, looking down on your gorgeous figure. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to just how beautiful you are,” You immediately move to cover your face, knowing you’d be the same shade of red as a tomato in mere seconds, but Jungkook never let you get that far, moving your hands to wrap around him as he wrapped his around you, your bare chests pressed tightly against each others.

One of his hands moved down, caressing your thigh softly before he moved between your legs, sliding his fingers under the hem of your underwear, the pad of his middle finger delicately pressing to your wet clit as he let out a low groan.

“You’re so wet for me, baby. You really want daddy that bad, huh?” He whispered in your ear as he slid one finger into you, your fingers gripping onto his shoulders tightly as you desperately tried not to moan out.

“Yes, daddy, want you so bad” as soon as the light whimper left your lips, your underwear was off; Jungkook’s head buried in your shoulder as he fought his sweatpants and boxers down.

“Fuck, princess, you have no idea what you do to me,” He pressed into you, his length stretching you out as he moved his hips slowly into yours. You stifled down a moan, covering your mouth with your fist as Jungkook had to muffle his own into your neck.

Your arms were hooked around his neck and shoulders, wrapped tightly around him as if your life depended on it as his slow deliberate movements drove you insane. His elbow rested on the outside of your shoulder, his hand tangled in your hair as he left hot wet kisses on your neck. His other hand had a firm grip on your outer thigh, holding it up at the perfect angle for his slow thrusts to reach new depths, deliciously rutting against your cervix.

He moaned softly in your ear as he pulled out, gripping onto you harder as he thrust back in hard, moving your body up and no doubt shaking the bed under you. You moaned out from the unexpected friction, his hand moving to cover your mouth as he moved to look you in the eye.

“Gotta be quiet, baby. You’ve been so good for me, I need to you stay quiet for me, can you do that, love?” You nodded softly, eyebrows knitted and lip between your teeth as you dug your fingernails into his back, trying to keep yourself steady as his thrusts got harder. He slid his hand off your mouth, his lips attaching to your jaw, his tongue sliding against your skin between kisses and nips.

“Good girl,” He whispers as he gets to your ear, sucking your earlobe into his mouth as he softly moans. The hand that was previously holding your thigh up moved between your bodies, his thumb pressing to your clit. You arched your back, moving further into him as he moved further into you, your pussy swallowing him up just the way he liked as he drew patterns into your clit.

“Mm, daddy-” you tried your best to whisper, but your voice was admittedly louder than you’d hoped as he fucked into harder, your orgasm building up quickly.

“Shhh, baby, I know. Just cum around daddy’s cock,” you dragged your fingernails down his back, moans light, only for him to hear as he brought you to your climax. “So good, baby. So good for daddy, fuck,”

Both of his hands moved to your hips, leveraging himself into your throbbing pussy as he rested his forehead on yours, looking deeply into your eyes as he cums inside you, both of you clinging to the other as you rode out your highs.

As he relaxes down into you, coming down from his orgasm, his lips meet yours in a lazy kiss, your hands coming to meet the others faces with soft touches as he lovingly peppers your face with kisses.

He eventually rolls onto his back, pulling you with him to lay on his chest, gently caressing your bare skin as you drifted to sleep.

[just-wrting]

Secret Admirer

Title: Secret Admirer

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: You've been trying to figure out who keeps leaving you little notes and gifts. Despite everyone else knowing, you keep denying the obvious answer.

Word Count: 1721

Master List

A/N: This will probably be the only thing I write for Reid. I'm not super into him but when the List Randomizer spat out secret admirer I weirdly thought of him. I plan on trying to write a bunch of different characters from a bunch of different fandoms. Just whoever pops into my head I guess. Two will probably be posted Friday.

You aren’t sure when you noticed it. Maybe it was the fact that your desk was always clean. Maybe it was the little extra things that started to appear. Slowly but surely, you realized you had someone who was leaving you gifts and notes. You had a secret admirer.

Despite your efforts, no one on the team would say anything. For several weeks, you pressed the issue with the other BAU members, yet no one cracked. In fact, you were teased about being unable to figure it out. How could a member of the BAU not figure out their mystery admirer?

“Come on Garcia! I know you know. You have to tell me,” you plead with the tech genius. “You’ve literally been avoiding me. I know you know.”

She lets out a squeak before running to the safety of her lair. Morgan is giving you a smirk and shaking his head. Despite your scowl, he chooses to tease you.

“Come on, (L/N), can’t you figure it out? Who could be this mystery man leaving you gifts and fancy letters?” He laughs as he pokes the latest gift, a small stuffed version of your favorite animal.

“Hey, leave my new son out of this. What did he ever do to you?” you grumble, pulling it closer to you. “I didn’t even realize someone remembered such a little detail.”

“Maybe that means it’s been a long time crush.”

At that moment, Reid sets his bag down and takes a seat at his desk. You think you see Morgan’s grin get wider, but it’s hard to tell given how wide his smile usually is. It’s a picture perfect smile.

“That’s a relatively cute stuffed animal. I’ve actually been reading up on that one recently if you’d like to know more,” he offers. “Only if you’re interested of course.”

Reid gives you his charming boyish smile. It goes well with demeanor and you can’t help but find it cute.

“As long as you’re willing to leave out the creepy facts. I don’t even remember telling anyone my favorite animal,” you say with a smile. “Who would remember such a little detail?”

Morgan chimes back in, “Maybe someone with a perfect memory. Like what the kid has.”

You sigh. “Reid seems to like highly intelligent women with PhDs. I may be smart, but I’m not smart enough.”

Before anyone can protest, Hotch calls you all to the conference room for a case. While you’re sure Reid is nice enough to help whoever has a crush on you, you doubt you’d be his type. Maybe Reid is the perfect person to question about the mystery man.

—-

“Reid, (L/N), you two stay here and look through the papers,” Hotch orders before leaving the precinct.

You frown. What’s the point of having you here? Reid can read faster than you can. It’s almost like you’re just here for moral support in case he gets tired.

“Well now I feel useless,” you groan. “What am I even supposed to do?”

Reid doesn’t look up as he speaks. “Maybe today you’re our mascot. After all, mascots are supposed to be cute.”

You roll your eyes and try not to laugh. “Not all mascots are cute. Recognizable is definitely more important than cute. Besides, am I really that cute?

“I meant to say that compared to Morgan, you’re cute.” Reid buries his head further into the papers.

You ponder for a moment. “Well, you’ve got some charm. Morgan has the charm of he’s good with women so that’s why he gets hit on. Hotch is mature and a leader so that’s why women are into him. You’re cute though. You’ve got this soft sort of shyness that makes you adorable.”

You don’t catch Reid’s reply. His face is completely hidden behind various files. Maybe he’s just embarrassed, given that he’s always been a bit bad with taking compliments. That doesn’t stop you from thinking that it’s adorable.

“Speaking of your charms. I like the fact that you’ve got a good memory. You wouldn’t happen to know who’s got a crush on me, would you?”

He doesn’t look up. “I can pass along a message if you’d like.”

“Well then, I suppose you should tell this guy to ask me out. I can say for certain that if he’s this considerate, that he’s already got my interest.”

“I’ll do that,” he mumbles before handing you a file. “Take a look at this. I think I’ve found what we’ve been missing.”

—-

You peer into the lecture hall. It took some convincing, but you have successfully dragged J.J. to one of Lewis’ classes. You gesture vaguely into the room.

“See! That’s what normal Reid is. Dorky jokes, random facts, and the rambling on for ages is what makes him Reid. That’s not what he’s like around me anymore,” you hiss.

She makes a face and shakes her head. “So you have a different Reid? I don’t think he’s been replaced (L/N). Maybe you’re thinking about it too hard.”

You scoff. “No I’m not. Reid just seems so nervous around me. Did I do something? He barely looks at me anymore.”

With a shrug, she leads you away. “Have you tried asking him?”

You toss your empty coffee cup in a trash can. Part of you wants to throw up your hands and be done. Why is everyone treating this like it’s normal? No one is giving you any answers.

“Of course I have J.J. It would be weirder if I hadn’t. He clearly knows something about this secret admirer of mine, but won’t tell.”

J.J. pats your arm comfortingly. “Maybe it’s because he’s your secret admirer. Perhaps you need to ask him out.”

“Yeah sure. I’ll ask him out once I have the evidence that he’s the person leaving me these gifts.”

J.J. raises her eyebrows as she drinks from her coffee. Her face says she has other thoughts, but she won’t press the matter further. Your gut tells you to trust her, but you’d rather not make a fool of yourself. Sure, she knows Reid better than you do, but Reid can be difficult to read.

—-

After reading the latest note, you search your desk for your stapler. You’ve been stapling the date and time to each note before tucking it in your desk. However, it’s missing.

You let out a groan. This isn’t the first time it’s been in the wrong spot, and you’re sick of it. You opt to beg Garcia to look at the camera footage to see who’s been using it.

“Hey Garcia? Can you please pull up the footage of my desk this morning? Someone’s been using my stapler, and today they stole it,” you grumble with a scowl. “Whoever took it is going to get some very strong words.”

As she speeds through the footage, you watch the people who got there before you. At first, you see Reid pause at your desk and fiddle with something. You note that he’s the only person in the office at the time, but after he pulls away, you see your stapler still on the desk.

The next person to stop at your desk is Morgan. He pulls your stapler off your desk and staples his paperwork together as he heads to Hotch’s office. He never sets it back on your desk.

“Garcia? Can you please get my stapler from that idiot?”

She laughs. “Has he been using your stapler this whole time? He said there wasn’t any more in the supply room.”

You shake your head. “You like him so much, you can retrieve my stolen goods from him.”

Garcia nods. “I’m on it. You can count on me.”

You leave her to her planning. You don’t comment on the fact that Reid had been at your desk. If you ask her about it, she’ll just  leave you alone to go get your stapler. This is enough evidence for you though. It’s time to confront Reid.

Thankfully, he’s made his way to the conference room to look for something. You sneak in behind him and stand between him and the door.

“So, what did you need from my desk this morning?”

You watch him jump and spin around. He looks shocked, but quickly covers it up.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, (L/N).”

You frown. “I found out my stapler was missing. Garcia showed me the footage and before it went missing, you were at my desk. What did you do?”

Reid opens and closes his mouth a few times. He doesn’t look at you. His hands keep fiddling with whatever he’s holding.

“Forget about it, I’m sure there was just some trash leftover that you cleaned up.”

He swallows hard. “Yeah. I didn’t want you to have to worry about it.”

You give him a smile. “Thanks. Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you about something else. The others seem to think I’m just talking myself out of it, but I think I can't put it off any longer.”

You make your way towards him, your smile still plastered on your face. You can tell he’s even more nervous now.

“Reid, are you my secret admirer?”

This time, Reid looks you in the eyes. You hear his breath hitch in his throat.

“What if I am?”

You’re a bit taken aback. Despite the determination you had walking into this, you aren’t sure what to say.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Your voice is a whisper now. It feels like some sort of dream. It’s almost like if you talk too loud, this whole thing will shatter and you’ll be left in pieces.

“I didn’t think you’d like me back. Your type just didn’t seem to include me.”

Reid hesitantly pushes a strand of hair out of your face.

“You’re more my type than you realize.”

“Then do you want to get dinner tonight?”

Now you’re the one who's acting nervous. Your palms are sweaty. It’s more difficult to breathe. You can’t help but bite your lip.

“I’d like that. If you’re willing to get dinner with me.”

Reid leans down, and gives you a quick kiss. It barely lasts a second, but you can feel your skin heat up. When he pulls away, he stays close.

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

[icyharrington]

haii okay this is #82 on the prompt list for steve, requested also by my lovely boothang @wroteclassicaly​ !!

“this is a one time thing.”

contains: daddy kink, blowjobs, deepthroating/face fucking, dirty talk, u suck steve’s dick at work lol

“You’re- fuck- crazy,” Steve Harrington breathes against your mouth as you shove him back into the supply closet of Scoops Ahoy with enough force to knock several cleaning products off of the shelf. He goes to pick them up off the floor, but you stop him in his tracks, yanking him back to you by the front of his dorky uniform. “Fuck. We have to be quick or Robin’s gonna kick my ass.”

“You are so cute when you’re nervous,” you coo, standing on your tiptoes so you can wrap your arms behind his neck. “Especially in your little outfit.”

“Gee, thanks, (y/n)! That totally wasn’t emasculating at all,” he mutters bitterly, before plucking his hat off and flinging it off to the side. “There. Better? Now you can see my hair in all its glory.”

“No, I liked it!” you protest, pouting at him the way you always do when you’re being particularly bratty. “I’ve always wanted to blow you while you’re in your work uniform.”

He scrunches up his face in a mixture of apparent disgust and confusion, which makes you laugh. “Why?”

“I dunno. Why not?” You sink to your knees, unbuckling his belt. He licks his lips as he watches you, the anxiety on his face transforming into something entirely different, but all too familiar.

“I can’t believe you visited me at my job just to do this,” he murmurs, although he doesn’t sound particularly vexed. It sounds more like he’s in awe of your boldness, if anything. “You are so fucking bad.”

“I should visit you here more often,” you think aloud, as your fingers work his shorts down to gather around his ankles. He’s wearing a pair of plain white boxers underneath, which you think look sexy on him despite their plainness, but then again, you literally think he’s sexy in a cheesy sailor costume.

He’s frowning, but it’s obvious that he’s trying very hard to maintain his rule-abiding facade. “No, (y/n). This is a one time thing, okay? I could lose my job.”

You stick your tongue out at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest defiantly. “You’re really going to deprive your girlfriend of two different types of free cream?”  

You say this to make Steve laugh, and it works; he’s shaking his head incredulously, arms lifting to fold behind his head as he grins down at you. “You are such a fucking slut, (y/n). I mean, jeez!”

Reaching into his underwear, you take hold of this gradually strengthening erection, working it back and forth in your fist for a few strokes until he’s fully hard. Steve’s cock is big, and even though you’re well aware of that fact, it’s still such a shock each time you wrap your fingers around his thick length. You love to tease him there, trailing your fingertips up and down the protruding veins that travel through, until he’s swearing lowly under his breath. “Yeah, but you love it, though.”

“Yeah, ya got me there.” He takes a fistful of (h/c) hair as you strip off his boxers, taking him into your mouth without hesitation. “Fuck. You’re my little slut. Can’t get enough of my big dick, can you?”

You attempt to shake your head as you move your head up and down his length, placing your hands on his muscular thighs in order to take him deep, just how he likes. His head lolls back as he lets out a hoarse groan from the back of his throat, bucking his hips against your face until you’re sputtering. “Yeah, I like you like this. It’s the only time you’re not running that bratty-ass mouth.”

Since you’re unable to retort, you shoot a venomous glare in his direction, though you continue to work on his cock with your mouth. He has a firm hold on the back of your head, preventing you from drawing back when he begins to slide his cock further into your narrow throat. “Yeah, good girl. Take all of it.”

He keeps you in place as he shifts himself back and forth, fucking your face at a leisurely tempo; and, like his little whore, you stay kneeling for him, hands folded primly in your lap. It’s a dynamic that you love- you, the devious, mastermind submissive, and Steve, the flustered dominant.

You can’t do much besides bat your eyelashes up at him as he essentially uses your mouth to masturbate, his jaw clenching as he knits his brows in concentration. He’s going so hard that there’s saliva dribbling down your chin and black smudges of mascara ringing your eyes, but you’re too wrapped up in his taste to care how badly he’s wrecking you.

“Fuck- yeah, that’s it. Take it nice and deep for daddy,” he encourages, his breath lodging in his throat for a brief moment. He loosens his grip on your hair, allowing you to regain some control of the situation. You decide to relocate your mouth to his balls for a change in scenery, reveling in his frantic moans as your tongue laps aimlessly at the sensitive skin there. “Fuck, (y/n). That’s my good little slut. You gonna swallow all my cum, baby?”

You nod eagerly, between sloppy strokes of your tongue against him. “You know I will, daddy.”

“Shit…” he mumbles, looping a portion of your hair around his hand and using it to steer you back to your original position. “Open your mouth.”

You do as you’re told, opening wide as he angles his cock over your mouth, pumping himself with his fist until his stomach muscles contract, a telltale sign that he’s about to cum. He manages a breathless, “wider,” before he releases his load into your waiting mouth, his orgasm accompanied by a series of strangled grunts and moans.

Steve is so sexy when he cums, with his plump lips bitten red and forehead slick with afterglow; you watch him adoringly as he rides out his orgasm, mouth falling open to call your name.

You swallow his cum, letting the salty-sweet taste coat your mouth as it slides down your throat. Once it’s gone, you proudly display your empty mouth for Steve to let him know that you’ve done your job.

It takes a moment for him to snap back into reality, his eyes half-lidded and dazed as they scan his surroundings, and then you. He strokes your hair with his massive hands, humming, “that’s my girl.”

He redresses himself as you stand up and retrieve his hat for him, which you find overturned beside the mop bucket. Your knees are sore and will likely be covered in bruises tomorrow, but you don’t mind a few bumps here and there if it means pleasing Steve. “Do you think Robin’s wondering where you are yet?”

“No,” comes a familiar singsong voice from the other side of the closet door, and you and Steve whip your heads to look at each other, eyes wide. Of course Robin had overheard the whole encounter, and had chosen not to say anything until now. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell! As long as you promise to wash your hands before you get back to work, Stevey-poo.”

Robin laughs obnoxiously, and you’re caught between drinking the nearest cleaning chemical or busting into hysterics yourself.

Steve, on the other hand, looks like he wants to die, a pained expression painted across his crimson-flushed cheeks.

“God fucking damn it, (y/n).”

[dear-ao3]

hey since yall are cologne experts (or one of u is idk) what cologne do you recommend to confuse ppl abt my gender

I need a scent that is feminine AND masculine all at once

aright so i am not a cologne expert whatsoever (not sure where you got that one from honestly) but i do happen to have a friend who works at a perfume store and when i asked her to weigh in her opinion on this she was absolutely delighted and wrote you all a novel on how to choose the right fragrance

(very fair warning, this is quite long)

Lessons in Fragrance (by Roza, Saph’s friend)

Buckle up buttercups because I’m about to learn you a thing or two about scent! I used to work at one of the largest “niche” perfumeries in the New England area so I’m like kinda qualified to give advice on fragrance I guess lol

1.scents will smell different on skin than on tester papers due to the fragrance interacting with your body chemistry so something you like on paper you might not like on your skin and vice versa! It’s always important to test on your skin before you buy, most websites that sell fragrance will sell a sample size for a few bucks or even a sample set for $20-$60 depending on how many samples and how high end the brand is! 

2. At the end of the day fragrance (how many times will I say this word probably at least 50) is gender neutral. Cologne versus perfume (or aux de parfum) just denotes how strong the scent will be and how long it will last. The order of weakest to strongest is: aux de toilette, room sprays, linen sprays Essential oil fragrances Cologne Perfume, aux de parfum 

3. there are many types of fragrances some examples of overarching categories are: gourmand: smells like food in some way Fougére: “traditionally masculine” Floral: predominantly flower notes Green: outdoorsy but more grassy and earth based Woodsy: outdoorsy but more tree and wood based Aquatic: notes that create scents reminiscent of bodies of water, ambergris is a common note Oriental: earthy, musky, and warmer notes usually having some sort of amber note Spicy: having heavy spice notes wheather it be peppery or your traditional baking spices These are just some of the most common categories of fragrance.

4. additional to categories, fragrance is further broken down into different sizes and different note tiers with each having its own wear time: you have your top notes, heart notes, and base notes. True to name top notes are the notes of scent you first smell. As the fragrance starts to settle the heart notes will become more prominent as the top notes fade. The base notes have the most longevity and will usually be the hints that you can smell even several hours later.

Sizes: tester sizes tend to be 2-5mL of product. The 4 most common denominations that fragrance come in are a 10-15mL (travel size), 30-35mL (smaller side but still decent amount), 50-60mL (pretty standard size and good amount), 100mL (“full size” and will last a hot sec) Based on personal experience: I’ve had a 30mL fragrance that I wear daily last for about 2 months, I have an 88mL that I wear about once a week that has lasted a year and a half (with 3/4 of a bottle still left), I have 10mL travel sizes that last about 2-3 weeks with daily wear, I have a 50mL that I wear weekly and on occasion use as a room spray too that’s lasted about a year (still have 1/4 bottle left). When talking about wearing the fragrance is talking about one spray per wrist, then tapping them together (NOT rubbing) to help distribute the scent. Sometimes I add an additional spray on my neck. There is never a reason to spray fragrance on your full body b/c it can then become to overwhelming and you’ll be a walking hazard to society (think a 12 yo boy with axe body spray). On occasion if you know it will be a sexy night a spray of fragrance on the ankle can go a long way especially if your legs will be hooked around someone’s head.

5. now without further ado below are Roza’s recs for gender confusing fragrances. I will include the name of the fragrence and line/company, some of the notes, and price point! disclaimer: I am only really familiar with niche fragrances not mainstream or “drugstore”, “department store”, “your typical designer” fragrances

The Recommendations:

My recs: I can’t grantee the spelling on all of these but c’est la vive, the listings are as follows: name of fragrance, line (if applicable), company, maybe a fun fact about the company or scent, description of notes and/or story of how to describe the scent, price point with size of bottle

supernatural #6: by Caswell Massey the oldest American perfume company, was a fragrance worn by George Washington, it is a very clean herbaceous scent (yk to cover up the stench of the unbathed in colonial times since the scent was created in 1772), it has main notes of bergamot (that earl grey tea kind of floral scent) rosemary, neroli, rose, clove and amber, very musky, $40 for a 7.5mL travel size or $225 for a 100mL, also comes in soap form.

LX48: also Caswell Massey, smells like leather chairs and pipe tobacco with hints of florals reminiscent of an old school gentleman’s club, notes of violet, geranium, oakmoss (one of my fav notes across the board), tobacco, cedar wood, and vintage leather, same price points for 7.5mL and 100mL as Supernatural #6, comes in soap form as well.

Beaver: Beaver-Bee are all from the same Canadian line called zoologist which conceptualize their fragrances after the stunning cover art to encapsulate what each animal would wear as a fragrance taking inspiration from their habitats, smells like moist earth and a light breeze carrying greens and florals. Notes of outdoor air, linden blossom, wood shavings, wild vegetation, damp air, dry wood, water, light musk, heavy musk, dark woods, vanilla, amber, castoreum, and leather, pricing the same for Beaver, Snowy Owl, Sloth, and Squid tester for $8, 10mL for $48, and 60mL for $175

Snowy Owl: zoologist, smells like the transition from winter to spring as the snow melts and mud season begins as light florals start to fight their way to the surface, notes of snow accord, lily of the valley, mint, coconut, Turkish rose, frankincense, galbanum, ambrette, cedar, tonka, vanilla, oakmoss, civet, and musk

Squid: zoologist, smells like an inky Black Sea thrashing about in a storm until you reach the calm black depths, notes of pink peppercorn, solar salicylate, incense, black ink accord, opoponax, ambergris, and benzoin musk

Sloth: zoologist, smells like a Victorian apothecary with wooden shelves a plenty mayhaps even thatched awnings overhanging the front windows ripe with scents of various herbs, florals, tinctures, potions and oils a delicate and peculiar balance, notes of chamomile, açaí berry, lavender, violet leaf, marigold (also known as calendula), beeswax, anise, jatamansi, jasmine, cumin, hay, frankincense, myrrh, mushroom, oakmoss, vanilla, tonka

Bee: zoologist, fragrant blossoms that play beautifully with fruity undertones to create a rich and mead like scent, notes of orange, ginger syrup, royal jelly accord, broom, heliotrope, mimosa, orange flower, benzoin, labdanum, musks, sandalwood, tonka, vanilla, sample $8, 10mL travel size $59, 60mL $210

Blackbird: Olympic Orchids, this is my personal favorite scent to the point that I consider it my signature, to me it smells like an ancient forest witch coming out to dance amongst the moonlight a pungent earthy smell full of ripe blackberries, damp cedar and oakmoss to complete the alluring scent, notes of blackberry, dry grass, dry leaves, elemi, cedar wood, resin, woody amber according to, for balsam absolute, and musk, pricing is the same for blackbird the California chocolate and woodcut, sample $3, 5mL $18, 15mL $35, 30mL $65, 100mL $120

California chocolate: Olympic orchids, a fruity chocolate fragrance to encapsulate California, notes of wild orange, grapefruit, yuzu, white cognac, neroli, dark chocolate, patchouli, gourmand musk, bourbon vanilla

Woodcut: Olympic orchids, smells like walking into a scene shop with fresh cut wood or even a cedar closet, notes of fractional distillation of pine and cedar, oak wood, roll balsam, olibanum, caramel, burnt sugar, vanilla

902: bon perfumer, a French company that makes 3 note fragrances perfect for layering with each other a scent you already own or just a subtle fragrance that can stand alone, this one is described as what the peaky blinders would’ve worn, notes of white tobacco, cinnamon and brandy (armagnac), 30mL $60, 100mL $120, 100mL + 15mL set $140

Noir tropical, Maria candida Gentile, smells like an expensive drink at a beachside resort in Italy, notes of bergamot, almond accord, heliotrope, vanilla accord, bourbon, and rum, 7mL 20€ ($21.56), 15mL 37€ ($39.88), and 100mL 155€ ($167.08), also comes in liquid and bar soap form, and a set with the 15mL the candle and the soap

Finisterre, Maria candida gentile, it smells like a breeze on the ocean filled with ambient damp sand and slight citrusy notes caught on the wind from fellow beach goers snacking on fresh fruit, notes of marine accord, wet wood, helichrysum, pine, grey amber, sandalwood, same prices as noir tropical

Plum in cognac, scents of wood, the bottles (for the full size) look like anatomically correct hearts and the colors are customizable when you order, this smells sensual and proactive with its sweet and smoky depth with a realm of familiarity to bring comfort, notes of caramel, tobacco, cinnamon, nutmeg, juicy plum, vanilla, vetiver, aged in a cognac barrel (made with sugar cane alcohol so it absorbs some of the scent notes of the wooden barrel it’s aged in), 10mL $55, 75mL $240

Bulletproof, Margot Elena, TokyoMilk dark line, this reminds me of what a pirate could smell like, notes of smoked tea, coconut milk, crush cedar, and ebony woods, 45mL $52 one size only

Eclipse, Margot Elena, TokyoMilk dark line, smells like a unique mix of spices and florals as mysterious and ever changing as the solar and lunar cycles, notes if black anise, mint leaf, smoked amber, and gardenia, 45mL $52 one size only

Nocturnal, Margot Elena, TokyoMilk dark line, smells like a walk through the woods on a crisp early spring evening, notes of cypress, dark patchouli, vetiver, and night musk, 45mL $52 only one size

Wild whims, Margot Elena, TokyoMilk, smells like wanderlust and wild abandon frolicking through fields in the summer sun, bites of sweet grass, clary sage, verdant (very green smelling) florals, and citron, 30mL $48 one size only, this one layers especially well with green spell!! Most of TokyoMilk can be blended with other fragrances b/c they’re are 4 note fragrances similar to bon perfumer in that sense

Green spell, Eris Parfums, an alluring garden full of specimens for all over the world cultivated with care and just a touch of magic and whimsy, notes of Italian mandarin, French black currant bud absolute, Iranian galbanum, Egyptian violet leaf absolute, French narcissus absolute, tomato leaf accord, fig leaf accord, Haitian vetiver, Ambroxan, and musk, 50mL $165 one size only

Spezie De’ Medici, i profumi di firenze, spezierie palazzo vecchio, this is a very old fragrance line dating back to Italy even before the famed Catherine Di Medici there are whispers that she even wore a few of these fragrances, smells like a warm hug from loved ones in your life as you all bake spice cookies for the holidays, notes of orange, lemon, cinnamon, nutmeg, clove, ginger, pink pepper, black pepper, 50mL 46€ ($49.59)

L’uomo di pitti, i profumi di firenze, spezierie palazzo vecchio, an outdoor market in Florence Italy filled with the latest fashions from visitors and importers all of the world with deeply aquatic and herbaceous hints, notes of pink pepper, iris, amber furan, ambergris, labdanum, sage, and rhubarb, 50mL 48€ ($51.74)

Bulls blood, imaginary authors, they create stories of fragrance from books that don’t exist each package (full size) is made to look like said book that doesn’t exist, smells like the perfect balance of brutality and elegance a scent for the lovers and brawlers deeply bold, animalic, and sensuous, notes of geranium, Spanish rose, patchouli, black musk, tobacco, sandalwood, and bull’s blood, sample $6, 14mL travel $42, 50mL $105

Every storm a serenade, imaginary authors, smells like the eye of the storm a day full of moody and choppy waters finally sailing into a brief moment of stillness to absorb the environment, notes of danish spruce, eucalyptus, vetiver, calone, ambergris, and Baltic Sea mist, same pricing as bull’s blood

Musc, Molinard, a French perfume company founded in 1849 with many fragrances full of notes that end up encapsulating one feeling, note, or moment, smells warm, woody, amber heavy musk, notes of muscade nois, bergamot, juniper berries, incense, patchouli, teak wood, musk, amber, and labdanum, 7.5mL 11.67€ ($12.58), 75mL 57.50€ ($61.98)

The Original, Eight & Bob, this fragrance was worn by a young JFK who discovered it through a young man and his family he met while on vacation in the French Riviera, a very classic clean fragrance that can lean on the side of aftershave-esque, notes of cardamom, lemon, pink peppercorn, dried woods, violet leaves, labdanum, evergreen wood, amber, sandalwood, and vetiver, 30mL 80€ ($86.24), 50mL 120€ ($129.36), 100mL 190€ ($204.81), 150mL 210€ ($226.37)

Winter nights, Dasein, comes in a line that is meant to smell like the different stages of winter there is also one for greens and the daytime, smells like a fire pit with friends in late January as the snow has started to pile up but on a blissful day where it is warm enough to go outside a gathering occurs with the rich smell of pine all around, notes of coastal forest, driftwood bonfire, cardamom tea, lavender flowers, wild musk, and woodsmoke, 50mL $125

Almost single, Confessions of a rebel, this is a collection known for making provocative and sexy fragrances with cheeky names, a hazy spicy scent tempered by woody florals, notes of black pepper, cardamom, iris, rosemary, and sandalwood, 8mL $28, 100mL $125 Ray-flection, masque Milano, opera line, an avant garde what would a flower from an alien planet smell like, notes of mandarin essence, sparkling aldehydes, cardamom pure jungle essence, mimosa absolute France, violette leaves absolute, solar rays accord, beeswax absolute, cedar wood essence, and musk accord, tester 6€ ($6.47), 10mL 46€ ($49.59), 35mL 133€ ($143.37)

White whale, masque Milano, opera line, a nod to the novel Moby Dick an adventure for any sea fairer, notes of candles, olibanum, salty rope accordion, black pepper Madagascar, ambergris accord, osmanthus china, violet flower, orris concrete Italy, cedar wood Virginia, patchouli Indonesia, vetiver Haiti, cistus laudanum, tester 7€ ($7.55), 10mL 49€ ($52.82), 35mL 151€ ($162.77)

Lost Alice, masque Milano, opera line, the tales of Alice in wonderland captured via scent in different stages of tea with the mad hatter, notes of bergamot, ambrette seed, clary sage, “Too Much Black Pepper”, carrot heart, Oreos concrete, English tea, white roses (painted red), sandalwood India, broom absolute Italy, and Fleur de lait (steamed milk accord), same pricing as ray-flection although lost alive does have a 100mL option too for 379€ ($408.55)

Pale fire, apoteker tepe, smells like a rich and slightly drunken hot cocoa after coming in from taking the leaves on a blustery fall day, notes of amber, olibanum, palmers, whiskey, and cocoa, sample $8, 6mL $20, 35mL $130, 105mL $280

The holy mountain, apoteker tepe, this is what I imagine the misty mountains to smell like to the point of almost being able to hear singing around a hearth in the background, notes of pine smoke, incense, balsam fir, labdanum, and guaiacwood, same pricing as Pale Fire

After the flood, apoteker tepe, true to the name it smells like the damp earth that’s still waterlogged after immense amounts of rain, notes of violet leaf, water lily, mushroom, patchouli, and wet earth, same pricing as the other two apoteker tepe

Le castiglione, jovoy Paris, from Les cocottes de Paris, another one of my personal favorites that I wear quite often, has been described as smelling like Dracula’s mistress based on a rumor started in the early to mid 19th century surrounding a model who (was described as the world’s vainest woman) once she “got old” (all of 40) she would only leave her house at night and donning all black and the rumors flew leaving behind only whispers and whiffs of this scent as she would walk by, a fragrance that is both earthy and citrusy, with an almost apothecary feel to it that keeps you sniffing the sample trying to figure out what it reminds you of, notes of mugwort, citron, juniper, licorice, patchouli, grey amber, myrrh, and styrax, sample $3, 50mL 75€ ($80.85)

After hours, antica farmacista, smells like sipping on a berry filled night cap paired with a fresh crème brûlée to enjoy in your favorite leather chair by fireside in an old family library, notes if blackberry, cocoa, tobacco, davana, black rose, single malt bourbon, cognac, oud, leather, crème brûlée vanilla, and amber, 10mL travel $22, 50mL $86

Late harvest, fort manle, the packing is really cool and the scents come in bottle that look like vintage ink bottle topped with an ornate golden cap that would work as a wax seal in a pinch, smells how I imagine an older bilbo baggins to smell like while relaxing in the shire smoking his pipe, notes of cherry pipe tobacco, vanilla, cedar wood, rosewood, leather, and rose, sample $10, 50mL $250, it’s pricy but the wear time is insane (I’ve tested it before and had it still smell fairly strong the next day even after showering)

Bojnokopff, fort manle, the story behind this is the famed Russian magician Bojnokopff (idk if he’s actually real tho lol) performing in 1897 St. Petersburg the closing act of his final show before retirement and to amaze the masses he disappears into a cloud of purple haze leaving behind only whiffs of lavender, oud, and chocolate this is a very dark and punchy scent (I find that people either love it or hate it with no inbetween), notes of French lavender, vanilla, dark chocolate, oud, and cedar wood, sample $10, 50mL $250 there is also a discovery set of the entire fort manle line that is $70 for a sample size of 7/8 of their fragrances

Uomo, carthusia, smells like the hot Italian partner you can’t take home to your family who rides a motorcycle while wearing a tank top with a leather jacket while smoking, notes of lemon, bergamot, freesia, green leaves, lily of the valley, jasmine, geranium, cedar wood, patchouli, sandal, palmers, amber, white musk, 50mL 70€ ($75.46), 100mL 90€ ($97.02)

Terra Mia, carthusia, smells like a coffee shop right before open there are notes of citrus roasted nuts and coffee in the air along with the smell of light florals that grace each seating area, notes of bergamot, neroli, pink peppercorn, rose, jasmine, orange blossom, Arabic coffee, hazelnut cream, amber woods, vanilla, ambroxan, and white musk, same pricing as uomo

Mediterrano, carthusia, a bright and sunny fragrance with notes of green tea, notes of wild mint, lemon, eucalyptus, litsea cubeba, red thyme, bergamot, jasmine, cardamom, flowers of the fields, tangerine, green tea, and white musk, same pricing as terra Mia and uomo

Broken Theories, Kerosene, the packaging is cool seeing as it is a nod to the city the fragrance is created in (Detroit) each bottle is painted in motorcycle paint and the metal label is hand stamped, it smells like a fire pit while drinking a spiced mimosa, notes of blood orange, tobacco, spices, vanilla, sandalwood, our, and incense, it’s a heavy but not overwhelming scent that covers you like a blanket and can last several hours without needing to reapply, 100mL $152

Meltdown, elder & willow, these last two are roll on essential oil fragrances that are very budget friendly, this one is meant to calm anxiety and help with grounding, bites of lavender, lemon, ylang ylang, bergamot, rose geranium, vetiver, Roman chamomile, benzoin essential oils, and scent is all in a coconut oil as the carrier, $12 per 10mL roll on

Sweet dreams, elder & willow, meant to promote sleep, notes if lavender, vetiver, Roman chamomile, cedar wood, benzoin essential oils, scent is in coconut oil as the carrier, $12 per 10mL roll on, I love elder and willow they also have teas, bath soaks, and skincare products

And thus concludes fragrance lessons/recs with Roza! I hope this was more informative and less of a fever dream than perfume ads on screen that don’t actually tell you anything about the fucking fragrance and just go off of vibes and celebrity presence!!

[thebibliosphere]

I saw your post about ingram, and out of curiosity, is there some advantage to going through the whole self-publishing thing with retailers when you're just starting out? like I mean the way that fandom zines work is that they don't even bother going through ingram or amazon or whatever. they just set up a social media site (usually twitter) to gain followers, open preorders (usually 1-2 months in length) to generate the costs of printing upfront, and then sell anywhere from a few dozen to several hundred copies of their books (usually artbooks, but anthologies exist too). I've seen some zines generate over a thousand orders. they're kind of like pop-up shops, except for books. maybe the sales numbers aren't so impressive to a real author, but the profit generated is typically waaaay more than the $75+ apparently needed for Ingram Spark, so I still feel like new authors could benefit from this method too, especially if they just need some start-up cash to eventually move to ingram if they want to for subsequent runs of their book. I think authors would also have to set aside some of the pre-order money to buy an ISBN number to have printed on their book, and I'm not really sure what other differences there are, but I just wanted to ask about it in case there's some huge disadvantage I'm missing!

So, popup zines work well for some people, and I know some authors who kickstart their work successfully. But for a lot, it's just not feasible as a long-term stratedy. Or even as a means to get off the ground.

Fanzines succeed primarily because an existing fanbase is willing and ready to throw money at something they love. They’ve got a favorite writer or artist they want to support. Supporting all the others is just a happy by-product. They also take a HUGE amount of short-term but intense planning that just doesn’t always jive with how some of us work.

I, for one, would never offer to organize a fanzine. I’ll take part in them as a creator, but I’d rather throw myself off a cliff than subject myself to wrangling that many people and dealing with the legal logistics.

When it comes to authors doing anthologies, it'svery much the same. The success of the funding often hinges on having other big-name authors involved whose existing fans will prop up the project. Or having a huge marketing budget.

Most self-pub authors have zero marketing budget. I’m one of them, and I’m under no illusions that my work would not be as popular and self-sustaining as it is if I didn’t have a large Tumblr blog.

When I thank Tumblr in my forewards, I am utterly sincere. Tumblr brought fandom levels of enthusiasm to an unknown work and broke the Amazon algorithm so hard, that Amazon thought I was bot sniping my way to multiple #1 spots and froze my sales rankings.

That’s not the norm. And while I could probably kickstart my own work as an indie creator, that’s because I’ve put literal decades into building up a readership. I’ve been doing this since I was 16 and realized people thought I was funny. I didn’t know what to do with it or if I’d ever actually write anything, but it meant the groundwork was already there (thank you, past-me). I basically fell upward into my success by virtue of never being able to shut the fuck up and wanting to make people laugh. Clown instincts too strong.

New or first-time authors trying to sell their work without that will find it infinitely harder.

All of that aside, even if an unknown author somehow gets lucky and manages to fund their work, there’s still the question of shipping and distribution logistics. Are you shipping everything yourself? Better hope you’re able-bodied and have the time for it. (for reference, it took me months to ship out 300 patreon hardbacks because of my disabilites. It damaged my back and hands. I couldn’t type for several weeks after I was done.)

Are you going to sell primarily at conventions? Better hope you’re able-bodied, have the time and don’t have cripling anxiety about being in large groups...

Also, will selling a dozen to a few thousand copies in one burst be sustainable in the long run as a career? Not for me. Doing things via Ingram and Amazon means I earn a steady trickle of sales for the rest of my life provided the platforms remain and so long as I keep working and can generate interest in the series, not just when I have funds to pay for physical copies to sell. The one-time (in theory) cost of $75 to distribute through Ingram gets paid off pretty quick that way. And it doesn't require the same logistics as doing the popup/crowdfund.

Ultimately, it comes down to what you are capable of but also the type of work you’re doing. If you’ve got an extended network of fellow creatives who will back you or you’ve got a large following elsewhere, doing it like a popup might work for you.

If you’re an exhausted burnout who can’t fathom the short but intense amount of organization that sort of thing requires, not to mention doing it over and over and over... Ehhhhh. No thank you.

[eoieopda]

reckless serenade (kth)

i’ve been trying to figure out exactly what it is i need // called up to listen to the voice of reason // and got the answering machine

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Fem!Reader Type: One-Shot - Sequel to The Bad Thing drabble. Summary: Your husband hasn’t looked at you in months, but his co-worker, Kim Taehyung, can’t take his eyes off you. Word Count: 4K, with 2K+ being smut, lmao. Content: SMUT - 18+; Taehyung's POV; infidelity; reader's husband really is just The Worst; oral sex (m and f receiving); multiple orgasms; face-sitting; penetrative sex (p in v); tbh it doesn't explicitly state whether it's protected or unprotected sex, so??; moral quandaries; Taehyung gets his own fucking warning tbh. A/N: This Taehyung is back by popular demand. This picks up where the drabble left off, so go read that if you haven’t! Actual note and tags are at the end :)

You’d returned to the table separately, several minutes apart, to quell suspicion.

As it turned out, the subtlety hadn’t been unnecessary. Nobody batted an eye when Taehyung sat down after a prolonged absence; and, as expected, your husband’s lecherous gaze hadn’t left the waitress long enough to find you missing. So, when you’d slid back into the seat at Taehyung’s side, no one knew your dirty little secret.

Secrets. Plural.

Park Ji-won might never know that you’d just orgasmed thrice, only a few meters away behind an unlocked door. Or that Taehyung’s orgasm was still lingering where he left it, staining the inside of your little lace panties. Or that the wedding ring he’d bought for his pretty, young bride was still in Taehyung’s pocket, rolling between the fingers that now knew you inside and out.

Definitely not that you’d left that ring in Taehyung’s possession with the promise of retrieving it after dinner — if you even wanted that tacky thing back in the first place.

When the bill came, Taehyung’s co-workers — your husband included — whined like petulant fucking children that the twelve bottles of liquor they’d consumed were fully accounted for. Out of habit, Taehyung glowered and turned to see how you were reacting, only to find that you’d done the same.

There was a wry smile tugging at your lips when you whispered, “Well, well, well… if it isn’t the consequences of their own actions.”

He’d snorted into his glass of water, watched his life flash before his eyes, and — thankfully — managed to swallow down his laughter before he could choke on it.

Is this the personality your husband misses out on, listening to everyone but you?

Taehyung, keeper of the company’s black card, bowed to the waitress as he handed it over. She’d smiled at him — the first genuine one he’d seen from her all night — and scurried off to close out what had likely been one of the worst shifts of her life thus far.

Normally, he’d feel the same: eager to leave and get the fuck away from the ghouls he already spent too much time with. So annoyed by their lack of manners and restraint that his rage would carry him out the door, to his car, and home again without either foot seeming to come in contact with the ground. He’d levitate this time, too, but for different reasons.

Instead, Taehyung flew home on thoughts of you. He’d replayed the way you shivered when he pulled your chair out for you and helped you into your coat. Like a rose petal in his palm, so fucking delicate, he’d carried the memory of your hand bumping innocently against his on his way out the door. And as he drove, he thought of what you’d said under your breath.

Am I a consequence of your husband’s actions, too?

Taehyung has been home for two hours now, and he still doesn’t know what the fuck to do with himself. 

He doesn’t bother turning on the television; he’d never be able to focus on whatever would end up flashing across the screen. He doesn’t pick up one of the many books in that untouched, yet ever-growing pile on his coffee table. His gaze keeps flicking hopefully towards his front door, as if staring at it with intention will manifest you on the other side. 

What if you changed your mind? What if you'd been caught out? What the hell was Taehyung supposed to do with your wedding ring if you never came back for it? 

Fuck. Shit! Motherfu— 

His catastrophizing is cut short by a quiet knock on the door. Three shy taps in quick succession, they mirror the way Taehyung’s heart is thudding against his rib cage. He ignores the anticipation turning cartwheels in his stomach as he pushes himself off the couch and makes his way to you. 

Even though you’d announced your intentions earlier, Taehyung is still semi-shocked when he opens the door and sees you standing on his doorstep. The look in your eyes tells him that you’re surprised, too. At yourself, maybe, for following this rabbit hole down to the bottom. Or at him, because he hadn’t used any of the past two hours to change from his suit into something less stuffy. 

You did change, he notes immediately. You’ve traded in your dress and stilettos for active wear; and Taehyung really might die now, jealous of leggings that smooth over your curves like water. It’s the comfort that really has him fucked up, though. The hair in a loose knot on top of your head, the barely-there stain of pink on your lips now that your lipstick has been discarded. 

“There you are,” He hums with a tilt of his head. There on his doorstep; there in real time; there in what he can guess is your usual state. Fucking perfect. “Wasn’t sure if you changed your mind.” 

You cross your arms, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, and tilt your head just the same. “I didn't,” you breeze, “I was conducting an endurance test.” 

“Oh?” Taehyung chuckles softly, “Do tell.” 

“I wanted to see how long I could tolerate sitting home, alone, without even a texted excuse – and without going out of my mind.” 

“Two hours? Impressive.” 

“Forty-five minutes,” You correct him, eyes twinkling, “I just got really, really lost on my way here.” 

“Even more impressive.” Taehyung grins as he opens the door and steps aside to invite you in.  

You slink through the gap; and he can’t tell if the way you brush against him is intentional or not. Then, you toe off your sneakers and leave them on the mat next to the door. You look up at him, but he’s still looking at your shoes.  

Plausible deniability, he realizes. Just in case tonight is the first night that your husband cares where you are — out on a run. 

Taehyung pushes the thought away, tears his gaze off of those Nikes, and refocuses on you. Ignoring the million things he wants to do to you, he nods up the hall to his kitchen. “Care for a drink? I’ve got an incredible bottle of Bordeaux from Pomerol.” 

“Just one bottle?” Your tiny smirk weakens his resolve even further. If he didn't love these little exchanges so much, he'd be worshipping you by now. “Not twelve?” 

The most perplexing thing about you isn’t how quick-witted you are. Taehyung’s seen it in every conversation he’s ever had with you; and he waits patiently for it, every time. The twist is how subtle you are with your little quips. Perfectly understated, they’ll fly right under the radar of anyone who doesn’t expect them.  

Does your husband even know to look?

He leads and you follow until you’re both standing in his kitchen. You take in your surroundings while you nibble thoughtfully on your bottom lip. Taehyung digs through a poorly organized drawer for a corkscrew he’s not sure he even owns.

Now, he’s nervous. This is the part where you find out he’s not a wine guy. He spent every step here praying that you wouldn’t ask him a single question about that Bordeaux because he couldn’t tell you a goddamn thing about it — except that it was a gift from a client, and that he hadn’t opened it because he prefers beer. 

You, on the other hand, enjoy wine. If you do end up drinking at the firm events you attend, that’s what you choose. While your husband is off somewhere, drowning in hard liquor, Taehyung is laughing with you and your glass at a table. When the night’s over, he replays the sight of your tongue darting out over your lips, collecting the excess maroon that lingers when you pull your glass away. 

Taehyung can’t point out Pomerol on a map and, as it turns out, he can barely operate a wine-opener. Thankfully, you have your back turned and your eyes fixed on the wall calendar full of shit he intends to blow off. You don’t glance back at him until, with a pop, he finally yanks the mangled cork from the bottle’s neck. 

Before he can turn to the counter and grab two wine glasses from the rack hanging overhead, you’re already on task. On tiptoe, reaching up, up, up, you let out a frustrated whine when you still come up short. On instinct, Taehyung steps into the space behind you. You lean back against him while he secures one glass in each hand; he feels the heat radiating off your body and nearly drops them.

Not that he would mind.

It’s so hard to give a shit about this wine with the curve of your ass so near to his dick, but he’s a better host than he is a co-worker, so he slips away to pour you a drink. Once he’s finished, he holds yours out to you.

If he were drunk by now, he could’ve blamed it on the alcohol, but he swears there’s a faint crackle of electricity when your fingertips brush against his. 

You close your eyes and inhale through your nose. “Mmm,” you hum appreciatively, eyes re-opening to blink up at him, “Smells incredible, doesn’t it?” 

Taehyung has no fucking clue because he forgot to fill a glass for himself. He doesn’t care if you notice, either; he’s too transfixed by the sight of your lips parting as you bring your glass to your mouth. You take that burgundy in, the column of your throat bobs as you swallow, and he’s waiting for it – waiting for it – waiting for it... 

It’s such an innocent action, the tip of your tongue swiping over your lip, but it sets off something primal in him.  

Bordering on feral, Taehyung sets his still-empty glass back on the granite surface of the island and takes four, wide steps to you. A little gasp tumbles out when his hands claim your waist, but it isn’t surprise. Pupils suddenly blown wide, it’s want that prompts you to discard your drink beside his and tangle both hands in his hair. 

Though he’s wanted to for years, this is the first time Taehyung has ever kissed you. It’s carnal. You kiss him back, and it’s all clicking teeth, whimpers, and desperate, clinging fingers. Insatiable, too, and it tastes like fancy French wine.  

You’re starving for it, he knows, and you whine when his tongue leaves yours lonely. That pout could convince him, without a word, to rob a bank at gunpoint.

Who the fuck would leave you home alone? 

“Angel,” Taehyung pants, locking eyes with you. He runs the pad of his thumb over your flushed cheek and feels the way you shiver. “I’m not above fucking you in this kitchen, but after fucking you in a public restroom, I think you’ve earned a bit more comfort than that.”

“Oh, fuck – just like that, angel. Shit!"

You’re on your knees between his spread legs with his throbbing length down your throat and your hair flicked over your shoulder. It’d all spilled from your top-knot a while ago, and Taehyung remains thankful for the shitty construction of that elastic band. Now, he has some part of you to hold while the rest of your body is out of reach.  

Every instinct is telling Taehyung to throw his head back against the pillow – with his eyes screwed shut and his mouth hanging open – but then he’d miss the way you keep looking up at him under dark eyelashes. Wet eyes blink as your ravenous mouth works magic, and goddamn, this talent has been going to waste for years. 

If he lets your ministrations continue, he’ll be dead long before he can pay you back – with interest. Buried before he can thank you properly for your service with his face between your thighs. So, Taehyung swallows hard, cards his fingers through your hair, and gently guides you off of him. 

He’s committed a lot of sins in the past six hours, but interrupting your medal-worthy exhibition feels like the worst of them. 

Your voice is a bit hoarse from how much of him you’d taken and how’d deeply you taken him. Wiping at the spit that slicks your chin, you look self-conscious when you rasp, “Is something wrong?” 

“No,” Taehyung shakes his head firmly though most – definitely not all – of him feels like gelatin. “Fuck no, sweets. That’s why I have to stop you.” 

Sitting back on your knees, you pout, and he melts. He’s already spent too much time wondering how your husband can leave you on the sidelines – but that was before Taehyung knew what face you make when you don’t get your way.  

Goodbye world, he thinks. He’ll never get out of this bed as long as you’re in it.

He beckons you with a curl of his finger, wholly unprepared for the ramifications of his decision to do so. Now, you’re straddling him, hovering overhead with your face mere centimeters away from his. You lean in when he cradles your jaw in his hand. So sweet, you smile a little when you feel the tickle of his breath warm your lips. 

“Ride me.”

Taehyung can’t help himself; he’s nearly pleading. You smirk and move your hand down towards the cock leaking all over his stomach. He reaches out, taps under your chin, and stops you in your tracks. You burn pink when he clarifies, “Not there.” 

This idea has you frozen in place. Worse, there’s a speck of anxiety blooming in your eyes; and Taehyung doesn’t have to guess why. He’ll add this to the infinite list of ways Park Ji-won has fucking failed you. 

Taehyung was already propped up on his elbow, but now he sits up fully to meet you where you are. “Hey,” he murmurs, stroking his thumb over your chin before kissing you, “Only if it’s what you want. For what it’s worth –”  

Fuck, you look so shy.

He kisses you again. “I want you to fuck yourself on my tongue –” And again. “Until you’ve taken back every orgasm –” Another kiss, and you whimper, “You’ve been deprived of.” 

When Taehyung’s eyes flicker back to yours, there’s a new sense of determination burning in your irises. Even better, there’s a brief twitch in your jaw as you place your palm against his bare chest and push him back down against the mattress.

You’re a force of nature every day of the week, but as you crawl over him, it’s the most powerful he’s ever seen you look. 

Your hands take hold of the headboard as you lower yourself down towards his mouth, which is already watering at the mere thought of tasting you. Pausing with your slick center just out of his reach, you glance down at Taehyung. He tilts his head to the side, nips playfully at your inner thigh, then soothes the sting with a slow swipe from his tongue. 

He doesn’t say a word, but you hear him, nonetheless. Keep going. You do, and you both groan when his mouth meets your cunt.

Finally.

Tongue teasing at your clit, Taehyung’s hands on your thighs pull you down harder. He refuses to accept the shyness keeping distance between you. No, he demands your full weight; all of you.  

Angel that you are, you acquiesce and grant permission for him to devour you fully. Taehyung can’t hear you keening over the suckling, slurping, and panting, but he can feel it in the way your thigh muscles clench around his head. 

His name rings out clear as a bell, though, right before your whole body begins to shake. 

“F-fuck!” You squeak, crumpling forward.  

Taehyung suspects that your orgasm is too heavy to face sitting upright, but whatever the reason is, it’s bringing your fluttering cunt closer and closer to him; and he has no plans to stop at one. Spit-slicked and gushing over his mouth, the way you begin to grind against him says that you aren’t tapping out, either. 

It’s a start, but he wants more from you. To coax it out, Taehyung pushes his fingertips deeper into the flesh of your legs and pleads with you to give him everything you have. You listen – so fucking well – and drop one hand from the headboard to grip his hair.

Yes, he screams inside his head. Use me, angel, just like that. And you do, rolling your hips against his mouth, tugging at his curls until he feels that incredible sting at his roots. 

You come a second time with his tongue darting inside your hole, nose brushing against your clit. Insatiable, both of you, he forces out a third before those aftershocks can even subside. 

Taehyung gasps for air when you wriggle away from him. You’re equally out-of-breath when you collapse sideways onto the bed and rest your trembling body against his. When he turns his head to look over at you, he expects to find you with your eyes closed, fully spent. Instead, despite your fluttering eyelids, you stare right back at him. 

The way your fingertip traces soft spirals across his chest has his brain spinning, too. For reasons he can’t explain, that delicate touch feels infinitely more intimate than the million ways he’s touched you over the course of the night. It’s the most at-peace he’s felt, too, but you throw a curveball to keep him on his toes. 

“Not tired already, are you?” You tease with a devilish grin before placing a kiss on his bicep. When he laughs incredulously at you – you minx – you keep those little kisses coming until they're trailing up the curve of his shoulder. 

Taehyung is a firm believer in showing, not simply telling. Catching you completely off-guard, he rolls over until you’re pinned beneath him, head caged between his arms. Your surprise left you in a gasp, but the shock has already given way when he ducks down to nibble at the side of your neck.

You moan when he nips at your earlobe; you miss the way he smirks against your skin because your eyes have fluttered shut again. Who's tired now? He growls low from his chest to recapture your attention, “How do you want it, beautiful?” 

Everywhere, all the time, like I do? 

Taehyung suckles at a spot below your jaw, and he doesn’t give a fuck if your husband finds his calling card. You don’t either, it seems; you whimper and roll your head to the side to increase his access. 

You keen as you place your hands on his shoulder and dig your nails into his skin, “Dealer’s choice, just – please fuck me.” It sounds close enough to a cry when you continue, “I need you inside of me – now.” 

How could he ever say no when you beg like that? 

Your poor thighs have been through enough, so Taehyung keeps you where you are: nestled underneath him with your heaving chest brushing against his with every breath. You spread your legs to create space for him, then cross your ankles behind his back when you feel his tip tease at your entrance. 

He has to fight to keep his eyes open when he enters you; unwilling to miss a second of the way your mouth falls open, even though you’re too vexed to audibly moan. He’s not – not yet, anyway – and he can't keep quiet when your wet heat envelops him.  

Slowly to start, Taehyung grinds against you, pushing his cock further into your cunt until he’s buried to the hilt.  “Holy shit,” he grunts.

You’re dripping. There are rivulets of you spilling over his length, coating him all the way down. Still, your walls grip him tightly enough to dot stars behind his eyelids. Squeezing, daring him to move but fighting him as he tries to leave. You’ll milk him dry, sooner rather than later.

“I’ll never get over this – could fuck you every day, and it wouldn’t be enough.” 

Whimpers spill out of you as he continues to rut against you, stretch you open for him. Your nails dig half-moons into his arms, and they sting, but Taehyung wants every single souvenir you’re willing to give him. He’d archive every touch if he could; play every mewl of yours on a loop, and savor the way it feels when you orgasm around his cock. 

“So, don’t stop,” You pant, gripping his jaw and pulling him close enough to kiss. Against his lips, you repeat your demand, “Don’t ever stop.” 

Taehyung is still trying to determine which version of you has him most fucked in the head.

He thought it was you and your little, black dress and heels. The version of you that followed the man who took your wedding ring into a public restroom; fucked him; and then left without your ring.

Then, he met the version of you that dresses down for clandestine, extra-marital dick appointments. A dark horse, certainly, but then there's the one who wore nothing at all; who shook, and cried, and came all over his face.

The best thing, he realizes, came last.

It's you in his crewneck, towel-drying your hair in his bathroom while he brushes his teeth. You, saying you'll stay – just this once – because you know for a fact that your husband never came home. You with your chin resting on his chest as your sleepy gaze struggles to focus on him.

Taehyung had figured that you were too tired to speak, so you startle him with your voice; even more so with the deep frown working its way over your face. With how much you shrink when you say, "I think I'm a bad person."

"Why, because you're here?"

You nod. His heart drops, though not because he didn't expect this. Rubbing gentle circles into your back, Taehyung inhales, deep in thought. There's a lot he wants to say, but significantly less that he can even begin to articulate. He can't say the quiet part out loud, even though it's screaming through his skull.

Maybe if your husband was a good person, you wouldn't be where you are right now. Maybe if he loved you, he would be home to notice that you weren't.

He tries his best, sighing, "I think people are a lot more complicated than that."

This thought catches your attention. Your chin digs into him slightly as you tilt your curious head to the side. Cute.

He continues, "I think we're given a hand of cards – some of them great, most of them shitty – and we do our best to play them well. You know, to the extent that we can."

"Do you really believe that, or are you trying to make me feel better?" You smirk, playfully tugging at the waistband of his boxers.

Taehyung exhales forcefully through his nose and tucks a runaway strand of damp hair behind your ear, "Does it matter?"

tagging: @borahae-k @i-purple-buff-bunni @pamzn @myimaginationsrunningwild @nonbinary-demonbrat @mgthecat @btschimeyplanet @jihopesjoint @jaejoontrashpanda @taebaelove @cyanide-mustard @xjoonchildx @jkoofier (couldn't tag) @bbyorchid (couldn't tag) @persphonesorchid @sncx3 @hersheytheekiss (couldn't tag) @iammisstora @quarter-life-crisis2 @here2bbtstrash @dvalitaes @1dsn @iadelicacy

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likes are always appreciated, but it's feedback that means the most — whether that's in a comment below, PM, reblog, tags, etc. tysm for reading ✨

A/N: So, by now, you've noticed that the original drabble and this fic are both in Tae's POV. I did not want to tell the reader how to feel about this. I wanted it to be as open-to-interpretation as possible, and I really, really, really wanna know what y'all think about the thing I didn't clarify: Do you think (1) they actually have feelings for each other; (2) Taehyung loves the idea of her and feels like he's "saving" her; (3) Reader just wants to be wanted, for once; or (4) it's a combination of things? HMMMM.

[graysnetwork]

omg

You've had the best night ever, you went on a great dinner date with your boyfriend of one year; Keegan, the food was amazing and the service was great, and the events afterwords— even better.

You two went back to your apartment since it was closer, and since Keegan was barely able to wait to get your place. Usually it was his place, you had a whole dresser he had bought for you for the case of you spending the night and needing to put on different clothes for the next morning.

He had been spending the entire night thrusting his cock into your hole, and gosh did he enjoy last night.

Now the sun peaked through curtains and the sunshine absolutely blinded you, he on the other hand had his face stuffed into the pillows which blocked out all the rays of sunshine. His back looked great; red scratch marks, a few scars here and there, and his muscles.. gosh his muscles.

But the funny thing about the picture was what he was laying in, pink pillows, a white comforter, a soft pink throw blanket, and several stuffed animals; all types of them too: a build a bear he got you with his own voice in the little bear, squishmallows he also bought you, and now your childhood stuffed animals you were placing around his body.

See the only reason they were on the floor was because you had said “oh my gosh my little stuffys are gonna see me and my boyfriend-” before he cut you off with a slow kiss and he covered your little bears eyes before pulling down those black panties down.

And then all of the stuffys ended up on the floor for the rest of the eventful night.

You placed the last one next to his bicep very carefully and went on to put a oversized shirt on and go to the kitchen to eat something.

You were sure this was the best sleep he’s had since he was a baby.

—

“hey baby” Keegan mutters as kisses the top of your head as he places his hands on your hips and his lips only continue to move down and kiss your cheek, neck and shoulder. “hey, did you sleep well?” you smiled as you turned your head and looked up at him “well? that was the best sleep i’ve gotten in ages..” he kissed you on the lips this time and really savored the moment.

“we should do this more often, just less stuffed animals next time i wake up..” he muttered as his nose brushed against yours and he leaned down again to kiss you once more.

“maybe, but your lucky to have been surrounded by those guys” you say as you pulled away briefly and turned around fully, and he slowly but firmly pushed you against the island. “guys? you’ve been sleeping with other guys?” he kissed you again. “i should go and give them a good.. stern talking” he muttered again as he once again (guess it) he kissed you.

He lifted you up and placed you on the counter, his hands found their way under that big shirt and they roamed freely over your soft skin. “maybe not, maybe i’ll just make them watch me fuck you?” he whispered as he smiled at your pink cheeks you unknowingly were getting.

“you’re disgusting, those stuffys eyes would be scared” you whispered back and frowned at him “well i guess i do appreciate that they’re not real guys” “yeah you should appreciate that”

“yeah, yeah, let’s just get to it already, this conversation is so boring it makes me want to play golf” his little remark on golf made you chuckle as you caressed his cheek “we doin it here or the bed again?” he asked and with the way he was staring at you, you didn’t know if he would even make it to the bedroom.

[sweeterthansammy]

ONLY YOU - JON SNOW

Summary: After being accused of wanting another woman instead of you, he makes it his mission to let you know that he wants you…and only you.

Warnings: This is all over the place but it makes sense in my head :D. Completely made up the last name for the sake of the fic. Now for real warnings - One (1) quickie, unprotected sex (be smart y’all), vaginal penetration, fingering, oral (female receiving), face-sitting., love-making ig, overstimulation, basically porn, very light touch of breeding, one (1) use of the word ‘whore’, marriage (yes that is a fucking warning but it’s not that complicated in this fic), feelings (ew), mild language, cheating accusations, mentions of not being able to conceive, one (1) very brief mention of Jon crying (yes this is also a warning)

A/N: Hello my darlings! My laptop is still being repaired so please bear with my shitty typing as well as possible typos. I just recently started watching GOT and I HAD to jump on the opportunity the second I laid my eyes on Jon…… considering that I’m only a few episodes in, I did not follow anything too canon considering that I don’t want the details to be too off.

Word count: 4.2k+ (this is the most I’ve written in forever LMAO)

not my gif!

Daenerys Targaryen. The most wanted woman of all in any of the kingdoms. She was undoubtedly envied by many, you included. You were a very close runner-up, but it didn’t help much considering your family’s constant comparisons between you and the younger girl.

You were nearing twenty-one and you had yet to be set for marriage, your parents frowning upon the idea that you wanted different things in life. Sure it might be nice to carry on your family’s legacy and become the heir, being their oldest of seven girls, but it wouldn’t be all that nice when you’d get threatened by others to give up your title as queen.

You’d met Jon when your parents had gone over to the Stark residence for a ceremonial dinner. He’d been out front, swording away at a dummy. You removed the flask from the garter that sat under your dress, sipping the bitter whiskey. You’d leaned yourself up against the wall, eyeing the dark-haired alpha as he blabbered away to his uncle Benjen.

He stole several glances, his tongue prodding at the inside of his cheek when he realized your gown parted more and more to allow some air under the fabric.

“I shall go with you when you leave, Uncle Benjen. My father will say yes - ask him!”

Trying your best to not eavesdrop much more, you began to wander off. His uncle couldn’t stop the perverse words that fell from his tongue. You glanced over your shoulder, shooting the older male a wink, careful as to not show too much of your face as he’d only seen your silhouette. He took off, heading into the castle to rejoice with his brother and several lords, leaving you in the presence of the young man.

“Tisn’t quite the scene for a lady. You should be inside with everyone else.”

“Nor is it the scene for the son of a lor-“

“Lady Stark requested that I didn’t join them for the dinner.”

“Oh, right. Jon Snow, is it? The bastard?”

You finally turned to face him, his eyes widening in their sockets.

“Honorable Y/N Burke. You shan’t be in the presence of an unwed man, young lady.”

“There are many things that I ‘shan’t’ do,” you mimicked air quotes. “But, you’ll find very soon, bastard, that I don’t care much about the things that I shan’t do.”

He eyed you for a moment longer, his sword firm at his side. You had yet to conceal your flask, offering him a sip before taking one of your own.

You watched as his eyes glanced over the way your lips encircled the opening, a drop of the liquid dribbling down the side of your mouth before your finger swiped at it, sucking the digit into your mouth.

Then he lost it.

He pounced on you in just a matter of seconds, groaning as your tongue mingled with his. The exchange of tastes - the whiskey warm with a mix of whatever sweetness you’d treated yourself to beforehand, and his bare whiskey. You could almost taste his musk but it must’ve only been the way his scent overstimulated each of your senses.

His hands, which had made themselves up to your face, dropped to your waist, pulling your lower halves together as he felt up on your body.

“Goodness- we can’t get caught, Snow.”

Your breath picked up into heavy pants, his fingers dipping into your undergarments as he swallowed all of your moans.

“Just be quiet, darling, and they won’t know a thing.”

He teased your clit with a grin plastered to his face. He yanked your underpants down, mimicking the move with his own clothing.

“Jon-“

“Sh, sweetheart-“

He hoisted you into his arms, not hesitating to plow himself into you. You bit down on your lower lip, trying to fight each moan from leaving your mouth. A high-pitched squeal sounded from your throat as his hand accompanied his rather vulgar pace.

“Fuck-“

“Remember what I told you, sweetheart,” he grunted into your ear.

His arm circled itself around your waist, stabilizing your squirming figure. His head tipped back, a groan sounding from his throat before his forehead met yours.

“Jon, fu-“

Before you could finish your statement, you felt the pulsating of his cock, his seed dribbling down your legs. He fucked you through his high, dropping his thumb to your cunt so you’d finally come around his cock. Your body shuddered as your climax hit you, your hands clutching onto him for dear life.

He pulled his garments back up once he’d placed you on the makeshift railing. You remained silent for just a bit longer until you broke said silence.

“Look, Jon- Lord…Snow, I’ve heard of your desire to leave this land and become a Night Watcher. I just….”

For once you had not much to say despite wanting to spew so much out.

“I know of your oath and the things you must accede to.”

“What are you getting at, Hon Burke?”

“If…if I am to carry your child, and I know the chances are slim because it’s only been once-“

“As you said, it’s only been one time. Don’t speak nonsense. This never happened. Are we clear?”

“But-“

He turned to you, helping you redress yourself with a sigh. He couldn’t miss the way your demeanor faltered just a tad, his own softening drastically.

“It’d be in both of our best interests to pretend that this never happened, sweetheart.”

And so you did as he said.

Despite wanting oh so badly to miss your menstrual cycle that month, it’d worked out for the best - you’d told yourself. You’d only known the lad for a few minutes tops but he remained on your mind for years following.

Upon his leave, you were devastated. Watching with teary eyes as the man you knew you wanted so much more with was leaving. Your mother watched as you quickly wiped a tear from under your eye, sniffling quietly.

Two years down the line, it was nearly impossible to avoid the fact that you’d have to step up and become queen rather soon.

“Mother, I am not stepping into that role until I get a proper proposal!”

“You’re too picky, Y/N! We’ve been waiting - for years, we’ve been waiting. You’ve gotten thirty proposals, all of which you’d turned down for the darndest reasons!”

“I’m not picky! I am awaiting someone that will settle for more than what the stupidity of this society offers. My king-“

“Has arrived.”

That voice. His voice.

Immediate tears were brought to your eyes as you found Jon standing in your doorway.

“J- Sir Jon Snow. Am I dreaming?”

“No, m’lady. ‘Tis truly I.”

You resisted every fiber in your body that urged you to jump into his arms and snog him right in front of your mother.

“Lady Burke,” he bowed.

Your mother offered a tight-lipped smile before leaving the pair of you to catch up.

“I didn’t think I’d see you for another ten years.”

Your smaller arms pulled his body into yours, embracing his warmth despite his cool armor.

“Jon,” you hummed, nuzzling yourself further into him.

“Y/N,” he copied your actions, smoothing his hand over your hair. “I couldn’t do without you for much longer.”

“Really? That’s hard to believe considering how quick you left after fucking me,” you quipped.

“I’m sorry, darling. I truly am.”

You met his lips in a soft kiss, your fists clenching around his coat.

“How’ve you been holding up?”

“I’ve just been dandy.”

Lies.

“Sort of glad I didn't have your child.”

Lies.

“Tried to get back out there after you left.”

Lies.

His arm tightened around you at the last of your statements.

“Tell me, Hon. Am I marrying a whore?”

“‘Marrying a whore’?” you were flabbergasted. “One - never call me a whore again. Two - who said we are to be wed?”

“Me.”

The simplicity of his statement baffled your mind.

“You? My father would never let me-“

“Marry a bastard. But, darling, as I remember, you’d told me something two years ago. You don’t care about the things you shan’t do and that shall include claiming me to be your king.”

“Well, why do you wait, my lord?”

He held you tight to his chest with his pupils blown.

“Tell me you’ll be mine, sweetheart. This is my proposal to you. We shall leave this land and rule our own kingdom together.”

“I do accept your proposal, my dearest, but I believe it isn’t that easy.”

“Nothing is easy, especially this. If your father is to deny our marriage and your leave, we shall go nonetheless.”

You grinned up at him, shaking your head as you laid your head on his chest.

“Then I shall marry you, my king.”

As expected, your parents didn’t have the merriest of a reaction when it came to notifying them of your leave with the man who’d notoriously been known to be a bastard. They were disappointed you wouldn’t be running their kingdom but they were relieved to see that you were finally off to be married. They hesitantly approved of the young man’s proposal, sending you off with him.

On your ride to your new castle, miles from your parents’ kingdom, you couldn’t help but question your husband-to-be.

“Why did you leave?”

He eyed you.

“The Night Watch. Why did you leave, Jon?”

“I know my status as a bastard would’ve done me well over there but I couldn’t take it. Being away from you, my family. It was eating at me day and night.”

“Then…why’d it take you two years to come back?”

“I didn’t know how to tell them I’d be leaving. It took me a long time to muster up the courage for that.”

You allowed yourself to remain silent until he placed a hand on top of yours.

“I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I regret ever setting myself up to be away for the rest of my life, but now I’ve got you and that’s all that I need.”

“You sure have a way with words, don’t you?”

His lip quirked into a gentle smile, his hand squeezing yours with tenderness.

In just a couple of weeks, you were settled into your new home with your husband. It was now time to host several dinners and welcome all to your land. You were beyond ecstatic but it wasn’t until the guests actually arrived that you became wary of those around you.

Daenerys had made quite the entrance into your home, every one entirely forgetting that you existed for a moment. The Khal trailed behind her, offering head nods to those that personally greeted him.

Your heart stammered in your chest beyond your control. You isolated yourself from the crowd, tears cascading down your cheeks as your breathing grew jagged.

Your husband seemed to be infatuated with the platinum blonde-haired girl. You couldn’t blame him but it was killing you. He hadn’t torn his eyes from her, nor did she. She seemed to eye Jon for a bit too long, keeping great eye contact with him as she bowed.

“No need for that,” he chuckled, greeting Drogo with a firm handshake.

He waited for you to greet the couple, not sparing a glance at your seat until he hadn’t heard your voice whatsoever.

“Y/N?”

Chatting and eating resumed, Jon’s leg bouncing anxiously. He watched like a hawk, eyes wandering about the crowd.

“Lord Snow, I don't think Lady Snow is feeling all that well.”

Upon hearing your name, you wiped the last of your tears, seating yourself at your husband's side yet again.

“Darling, what’s the matter?”

He held your face in his palm, eyebrows furrowing at your puffy and reddened eyes.

“Nothing, my lord.”

You spoke the words with such harshness that it pierced his heart.

“What-“

“Ah, Lord and Lady Snow! Why don’t you make a toast?”

“I don’t think-“

“Of course, Benjen. We shall give a toast!”

You stood with your goblet, Jon staring at you with confusion clear in his features before standing on his own two feet.

“Thank you all for coming tonight. Lord Snow and I are delighted to be sharing such a special moment with you all. We wouldn’t have wanted it to be spent any other way. Jon?”

He cleared his throat, keeping his eyes on you as he spoke.

“I’m sure I’m supposed to be thanking you lot but if it weren’t for my beautiful wife here, I wouldn’t be standing in front of you and for that, I thank her. I thank her for trying to understand me, for being the greatest human on earth, and for standing by my side regardless of what. I’ve known the shame of being a bastard for my whole life but she’s willing to bear the embarrassment of being wedded to me.”

His speech went on and on and on. It didn’t seem to end but your heart fluttered at his words. He grasped onto your hand when you turned away from him, your eyes catching Daenerys’. You shook those pestering thoughts from your mind, repeating ‘stop it, stop it, stop it’ over and over in your head.

That had only been the first of many instances, though.

You were distraught. It’d been months since you and Jon were lawfully wedded yet it seemed as if you couldn’t conceive. Your parents were applying pressure, sending ravens to your kingdom every day after, asking when you’d bear children.

After a dinner you’d put together at your castle, you lost it. Jon had spent nearly three hours lingering near the Khal and his Khaleesi. For only two minutes, he held you at his side while conversing with the couple. You’d shimmied yourself from his arms, entertaining the younger Stark children.

Robb had witnessed the way in which you embraced your inner child, chasing the kids around as they screamed their heads off. You shooed them away with a motion of your hand. With a hand on your hip, you watched them run off, your heart aching at the thought of never having children.

“Any luck yet, m’lady?”

Robb chuckled as you flinched in the slightest.

“My goodness, Robb. No, no luck yet. However, we already have names picked out, as well as runner-ups for godparents.”

“Oh really?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, spinning to face the brunette.

“If you’re so desperate to hear it, then yes, you are a candidate for our children’s godfather.”

He took your hand into his, landing a kiss on your knuckles as you giggled endlessly.

“I knew you always loved me,” he dramatically expressed.

You raised a brow, badgering him, “Say that with caution, Stark.”

“Or what? Lord Snow will behead me?”

“I might.”

The older boy wrapped his arm around his brother’s neck in a cub-like embrace.

“Goodness, Jon. Leave your brother be,” you scolded him, watching as his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer.

The dinner was called to an end rather soon, but a few of your guests straggled about - Khaleesi Daenerys amongst the few. Your eyes were like daggers as you watched Jon converse with the younger girl. You were drawn from your thoughts the moment Robb placed his hand on your shoulder.

“Now, Y/N, I am well aware that you think my brother is mad over this woman - or at the least, having an affair with her. But I can assure you, nothing of that sort is happening at all. He’s only trying to make am-“

“I’d like to hear that from him, Robb. If he’s just trying to make amends with the Khal and everyone then that’s on me. But it doesn’t help that the Khaleesi is that fucking gorgeous. She has these big doe eyes that scream ‘help me’ or ‘fuck me’! I don’t know which one it is but I’m afraid that Jon will play the hero and be the one that fulfills any of her needs.”

You were seething in the corner with Robb at your hip. He tried assuring you repeatedly but you were quite a stubborn queen.

After everyone had left for good, you wasted no time in heading straight to bed. You wanted to avoid Jon to the best of your ability but you simply couldn’t outdo the king. Before you could step foot out of your bedroom with your things in hand, Jon stepped in front of you. He backed you into the room, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he shut the door.

“What’s your problem?”

You tried to not break under his intense gaze, your eyes bouncing from his own to everywhere in the room.

“What is your issue, Y/N?”

His voice was too quiet for your comfort.

“Are you…having an affair with Daenerys, Jon?”

The words that left your mouth sent a genuine fit of laughter racking through his body.

“Are you being serious?”

“Answer the question.”

His laughter died down, his body gravitating towards yours.

“Of course, I’m not having an affair with Daenerys. What makes you ask this?”

“The way you look at her kills me, Jon. When she’s here, it feels like I don’t exist! Why do you think I disappear for hours on end- you know what - you don’t even realize that I’m gone because you’re too immersed in your interactions with her! It’s-“

His hands found themselves on either side of your face, forcing you to look at him, though gently.

“If I was having an affair with Daenerys or anyone else, do you think that I’d be in the same bed as you every single night? All of those things I said about you months ago were nothing but true. You were probably too busy being upset with me to hear most of it but I don’t want anyone else. I want you and only you.”

“Then why do you look at her the way that you do? There’s so much compassion and-“

“I look at her that way because I feel bad for her! She talks to me because she feels as if she can’t trust anyone else, not even her own brother. I’m sorry that I ever made you feel less important. You’re the most important person, the most important thing in this world. I care for Daenerys’ well-being but I don’t care about her the way I care about you. I love you and I know I don’t say it enough but I do!”

He panted as he read your face.

“So you’re not cheating on me?”

“No, and I never will! I only want you, Y/N Snow. Only you.”

His lips met yours, your shoulders falling as relief washed over you. You allowed your hands to get lost in his hair, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist as your lips moved in tandem.

“Tell me you love me.”

You hadn’t noticed the few tears that stained his cheeks until he spoke against your lips, your heart aching in your chest.

“Jon, my darling, I love you more than you will ever know.”

His arms tightened around you, lifting you from the ground as he pecked your skin.

“It seems as though I have to make up to you for the rest of my life,” he chuckled against your skin.

“Sweetheart, you loving me alone is enough of an apology.”

He laid you gently on the bed, undoing your bodice in an impressive amount of time. He held back no longer, suckling on the skin that was graciously presented to him.

“Jon,” you hummed.

He imitated your actions, putting a ministration to his movement once he’d reached your underpants. After kissing, biting, sucking on your skin, his lips were red and plump. They met yours again, the taste of whatever wine you’d been drinking just hours prior still lingering on your tongue.

He worked his hands into the sides of your underpants before pushing them down your legs. You whimpered against his tongue as his fingers stimulated your clit.

“Darling,” you gasped out, his fingers dipping in and out of your cunt.

He used a leg to pry yours apart, reveling in your angelic sounds. He propped himself up on his other arm, hand holding his head. With your hands tugging at his clothing, you pulled him in even closer.

His face disappeared into the nape of your neck. The way in which he breathed against your neck caused your skin to crawl.

His nose nudged at your jawline, a dumbstruck grin taking over his features once he felt your walls pulsating around his digits. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the next words that flew from his mouth.

“Lannister had told me he imagined you sitting on his face long before my proposal. I nearly slayed the son of a bitch until I realized you weren’t mine then. Why don’t you come on my face, sweetheart?”

“W-what?” You stammered out - half shocked at the proposition and half processing the fact that he was still fucking you with his fingers.

“My pretty girl doesn’t want to sit on my face?”

He jutted out his bottom lip, on which you pressed a kiss, uttering an ‘I do’. Your legs squirmed a bit more until you came. Your back arched off the mattress as you gasped and cried out. He slid his fingers into his mouth, his eyes locked on your blissful features.

“You taste heavenly,” he murmured, wiping his saliva-slicked fingers off on his bottoms.

His words made your cheeks heat up, using whatever strength you had to push yourself onto your knees.

“Are you sure about this, Jon?”

“A million times over - yes, I’m sure about this.”

He laid himself down, your legs trembling as your cunt hovered over his face. He brought you down in seconds, not being able to resist the temptation.

His tongue expertly worked your cunt as it’d done several times before. Sitting on his face, however, brought a new sense of pleasure to you - his nose bumping your clit every so often as the entirety of your cunt grew soaked. The mix of his saliva and your release sent you spiraling once more, the core in your lower half tightening before you could say anything.

His tongue softly fucked your desperate hole, a glass-shattering moan sounding from within. You couldn’t hold back any of it. You needed to let the whole damn castle know that your king was treating you right.

“Jon!”

One hand dropped to his hair, the other fondling your breast. Your eyes dropped to his, your body giving out at the sight of his disheveled hair and his eyes just begging for your come.

Your body shook gently as you came in his mouth, eyes screwing shut once your head had lolled back. You’d lifted yourself off to the side, your husband chuckling at your already fucked-out state.

“How was that?”

His fingers traced patterns on your skin as you came down from one of your many highs for the night.

“Fuckin’ amazing,” you breathed out, your arms reaching for him once he’d brought himself to his knees.

You watched as he undid his bottoms. The intense eye contact he held with you was a telltale sign that you needed to help him out of his clothes before he exploded.

“I won’t be rough tonight,” he whispered.

You bit your lip, feeling the burn of his gaze on your face as you undid the buttons of his shirt. Your insides grew fuzzy, becoming giddy at the fact that this was truly your husband. No one, nothing could ever take him away from you.

He stood nude before you, pressing his back to the headboard before patting his lap. You climbed onto him in a matter of seconds, your hands already stabilizing themselves on his shoulders. Your knees bent at either hip, legs akimbo to appease his girth. You pumped him a few times, running his tip up and down your fold before sinking onto him with a cry.

“Has it been long, my darling?”

You nodded, offering an airy chuckle as you struggled to take all of him.

“Gods, I’m beyond s-“

You hushed him with a kiss on the lips, your hips beginning to rock back and forth once you’d hit his base. His hands fell to your behind, your back arching as he hit that spongy spot inside of you. His name left your mouth like a mantra, chants of ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ following right after. Your mouths found one another in a slobbery mess, a clash of teeth and tongue as the rutting of your hips became more desperate.

“Stop apologizing, my lord. I- holy shit, I love you,” you choked out.

“I love you, sweet girl.”

His forearms held onto your waist, using this as leverage to thrust himself further into you.

The pace of his hips, the words exchanged, the looks on both of your faces. Just outside your door, guards exchanged knowing glances, clearing their throats at the sounds that came from the both of you. They seemingly grew louder, Jon taking the opportunity to let the words flow from his mouth - “I shall put a baby in you tonight.”

And so the night proceeded. Jon didn’t let up until you physically couldn’t go for another round, making sure none of his seed left your womb.

It was a relief to know that your king, your lord, your love wanted you and only you.

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[cosmicdream222]

The time I woke up in the void, before I even knew what the void was

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・。.。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

As mentioned in this post, here is the story about how I woke up in the void before I knew what it was.

I came across @ellequarius success story on entering the void while falling asleep in class and I got major chills and a flashback to when something similar happened to me in HS. I didn’t even know about manifesting or the void at the time but now I realize I woke up in the void 🤯 It was such a strange and memorable experience, I still remember it vividly (I’m an adult, I graduated HS long ago lol).

It was my senior year, I was in science class and we had a substitute who gave us a free study period and dimmed the lights to put on a movie. I was exhausted so I just crossed my arms on my desk, put my head down and fell asleep.

Idk how long I was out, but before waking up I found myself in a weird kinda state. I thought I was dreaming, although nothing was happening. Everything was dark but it wasn’t like being in a dark room - it felt like looking at a TV or computer screen that was turned on but not showing a picture, there was some static and a sense of depth. A bit like outer space.

I had been thinking about my friend in Japan who I hadn’t talked to in a few weeks. I guess because she was on my mind, I imagined seeing a notification pop up on the “screen”, saying I had a new email from her. Then I woke up and went to my next class.

When I got to a computer, I found that I had indeed received an email from my friend, around the exact time I had “dreamed” it. I always thought it was a psychic dream, or just a freaky coincidence. But now I’m sure I manifested it in the void.

I was totally mindblown as since I found out about the void last year, I’ve been endlessly researching, wondering if it’s really real and trying different methods wanting to experience it for the first time - when I had already experienced it so long ago? 😭 It’s like I found an Easter egg in my brain!

I’m theorizing that sleeping position can have an effect on the ease in which you enter the void. Since it’s happened to several people while sleeping in class, taking naps, and there is also the popular recliner method, it seems that unusual sleeping positions put you in a lighter sleep, which can help access alternate states easier.

I’ve also realized since I figured this out a couple weeks ago, pretty much every time I have a natural awakening in the early morning, I do wake up in the void. It even happened this morning (2/27 as I type this) early in the morning after several hours of sleep, and I was lying on my back which is not my most comfortable sleeping position.

It’s the same kind of experience, and I don’t hear anything, but my first natural instinct when I wake up is to wonder where the sounds of my environment are. So I end up tuning in to my room to try to hear things, and snapping out of the void.

Only a matter of time before I figure out how to remain there aware long enough to affirm for my desires 😭

[darkcircles4lyfe]

Behind the locked door

In honor of Izuku’s mask disintegrating into rubble, I think it’s finally time for me to really dig deep into his character. I’ve been keeping this one in my back pocket for a while. Amid all the talk about Izuku’s fading narration, the “control your heart” subplot, I’ve been trying to find the words to articulate how I know exactly where this is going, at least on a certain level. Most recently, I read this meta from pika who brings up how the word “control” alone can be misconstrued (by us). And then I thought about how a while back I made a similar point, although I said Izuku was the one who got it wrong. At that time, I was holding back a huge piece of evidence because it was external to the story and I wasn’t sure it would be received well. As a result, my argument fell a little flat. Well, now—after 411, right before leaks for 412—it might be my last chance to play this card.

So about that external evidence. I struggle to bring it up because it’s gonna sound an awful lot like I’m projecting onto Izuku if I don’t do it justice. But… I look at the way his storyline has been going lately and I see a pattern emerging that I’m very familiar with. Fortunately, I don’t have to dump a bunch of personal junk on you in order to illustrate this pattern, because a certain personality typing system already has it all figured out: the Enneagram.

Now, hang on. I’m not one to put people in boxes. My trans ass? I managed to get a different result every time I retook the P0ttermore quiz. MBTI, zodiacs—not my thing. But the Enneagram comes the closest I’ve ever seen to covering all the bases and revealing actually meaningful insight, at least for myself. On top of that, I find it extremely useful for fleshing out fictional characters, hence this post will be taking advantage of that.

For those who aren’t familiar with it, here’s a quick overview: The Enneagram consists of 9 individual personality types, each arranged carefully in a sequential, circular manner. They are also simply named 1 through 9. While this might seem kinda basic, there is actually a surprising amount of nuance and fluidity involved. Typing is done largely through personal introspection (you don’t really have to take a test). Adjacent numbers share some core themes with each other, and according to a web of arrows between them, one type can take on either positive or negative traits associated with other types depending on how emotionally ‘healthy’ they are, causing a lengthy spectrum of different ways each type can manifest. That part gets kinda complicated to explain here, so for more info, the Enneagram Institute website is a decent place to start. I also highly recommend the Enneagram album by Sleeping At Last (and if you really want to dedicate some time, the accompanying podcast) to really get inside the heads of the types on a deeper level.

My interest in applying the Enneagram to Izuku comes from observing how differently one can interpret his character based on whether you read him as a 2 or a 9. And even though no one uses this language to talk about him, the distinction accounts for a bunch of different rifts in the fandom: whether you appreciate bkdk’s relationship, whether you can acknowledge Izuku’s flaws and weaknesses, the severity of his vigilante/rogue phase, and most importantly the gravity of his concealed heart, his rage, and what it all means—what he needs in order to grow and triumph.

Discussion of Enneagram types in the fandom is pretty scarce, but where it exists, I have only seen him labeled as a 2. Type 9 and type 2 can be similar at a glance in a lot of ways (actually, 9s can be mistaken for any type because they are like all of them combined). It’s easy to see Izuku as a 2 because he is the helping hero archetype. He puts others’ needs above his own and he is always ready and eager to help. If you listen to Sleeping At Last’s song for 2, you’ll notice that it’s all about care and noble sacrifice with the underlying theme of neglecting or even harming oneself: “I just want to build you up, until your good as new, and maybe one day I will get around to fixing myself too.” Sounds pretty obvious, right? Well, here’s the thing. You really get to know what your type is by how it hits you where it hurts, so I like to focus on each type’s basic fear and basic desire, first and foremost, as a tell. A 2′s basic fear is of being worthless and unloved. Consequently, their most basic desire is to be loved. And 2s have been taught through their negative experiences that love is conditional, something they have to earn from others. They need to be needed. So let’s say you think Izuku is a 2. This means you consider his heroic, self-sacrificing tendencies to be a result of his growing up quirkless and being told he is worthless and powerless because of it. Through this lens, he is trying to prove himself to the world by being useful. Along these lines, you may also assume he is trying to prove himself to Katsuki. Taking this train of thought even further, you may interpret Izuku’s relationship with Katsuki as an obsession of his, where he is either blind to Katsuki’s more negative traits in favor of gaining his love and praise, or else bitterly determined to prove him wrong. This is how a 2 might behave in an unhealthy relationship with an 8, which, yes, I do think Katsuki is an 8. That’s a tangent for another time, though.

But does Izuku ever “need to be needed?” It’s worth noting that while 2s’ search for validation might seem insincere, it is actually motivated by a deep, heartbreaking insecurity. They think they don’t even deserve love unless they are useful to someone, so they do everything they can to be worthy. Does Izuku show signs of this motivation?

If I stop to think about it, I can’t exactly see this in Izuku’s character. Yeah, his dream is to be a hero, and in his childhood, he was denied that dream. However I think we need to take a step back from that for a second if we want to dig deep. I mean, a lot of the other characters also behave heroically, act selflessly, and strive to help. Does that mean all of them are 2s as well? Of course not. So let’s instead turn to observe how Izuku acts with his loved ones, friends, and peers in other/adjacent contexts:

Inko: He is committed to protecting his mother from fearing for his safety. He wants to be good enough to not cause her to worry, rather than good enough to make her proud or make her love him. Idk about his father but at this point I think it’s safe to assume he is deeply unimportant.

All Might: I would describe their relationship as one of mutual responsibility. Izuku feels a responsibility to uphold All Might’s legacy, All Might feels a responsibility to teach him well. Because of this mutuality, I don’t think it quite makes sense to say Izuku deliberately seeks approval for its own sake. You know what I mean? They may be a mentor and a pupil but in practice they are almost more like co-conspirators. They don’t really have a power dynamic going on.

Shouto, Tenya, other friends: Izuku seems to take an interest in what makes his friends tick, and he sets himself aside in order to both analytically and intuitively determine what’s wrong and how to solve it. Examples include his fight against Shouto in the sports festival, and his stubborn concern for Tenya’s reaction to his brother’s forced retirement. He will put himself in the line of fire specifically when confronted with another person’s inner demons. This is not a labor that is asked of professional heroes, it’s just who Izuku is. You can also extend this observation to how he sees through Tomura to Tenko, but I’ll get to that later. Basically, while 2s seek to help in all kinds of ways, a 9’s strategy is always centered on the realm of the mind.

Kota: Adjacent to the paragraph above, before Izuku literally gets into a position where he needs to save Kota, he becomes interested in the boy’s point of view out of genuine curiosity. He doesn’t go “oh no, this kid doesn’t like heroes, I better get him to like heroes.” Instead he seeks out information as to why he thinks that way, and patiently listens. He’s sorry about what happened to Kota, and he understands. Twice (ch 71 and 72), he recognizes the fact that everyone has their own point of view on quirks, and he can’t really do anything about that.

Mirio: This might be one of the most telling examples. Mirio is the platonic ideal of an All Might successor. He’s “perfect.” He even looks the part. While this initially makes Izuku uncomfortable, he doesn’t become insecure and defensive over it. On the contrary, he easily comes to the conclusion that actually, Mirio should have One for All. Just like that (ch 172). If Mirio hadn’t dismissed the “hypothetical,” he probably would have gone through with giving it to him. That’s not how a 2 would respond. A 2 would double down and aim to be better than Mirio by trying to establish some relationship of need, fueled by the insecurity. Their shared subplot with Eri would have looked pretty different, I think.

Katsuki: I’ve mentioned before that I believe their rivalry only exists because Katsuki put it there. First of all, we can see that after the sludge villain incident, Izuku weirdly takes Katsuki’s dismissal of Izuku’s help as practical advice. Like, “oh yeah, I guess what I did was pretty stupid and dangerous, and I’m not cut out for this hero stuff. Now I can move on and find a realistic career.” Hello?? He accepted that so easily. So Izuku clearly isn’t motivated by a desire to prove himself to Katsuki. Even when he proclaims he’s going to surpass him, it’s like he’s happily mimicking Katsuki, not reacting based on insecurity or pride. Izuku is content to meet Katsuki wherever he is, and he’s satisfied with whatever kind of relationship they are able to have, including a rivalry, so he isn’t vying for his affection either. We can observe this when he gives up the role of reaching out a hand to save Katsuki to Kirishima, and also when he thinks about how “blessed” he is to even have a normal conversation with Katsuki. He doesn’t push things. It’s also stated in Deku vs. Kacchan 2 that Izuku doesn’t excuse or overlook Katsuki’s “bad side” but still admires him for his other traits. This is not at all characteristic of a toxic 2x8 relationship.

When 2s are at their very worst or pushed into unhealthy situations, they tend to become more needy and self-centered, even downright manipulative. But at Izuku’s worst, when he went rogue, he pushed everyone away to avoid being a burden. When the refugees at UA tried to prevent him from returning, he was like, “you’re right” and would have turned back immediately if not for his friends, loved ones, and other people who care about him telling him it was all okay. Meanwhile, Katsuki, in true 8 fashion, was pissed off at being rejected and having to deal with Izuku’s stubborn and evasive side (oh yeah, have I mentioned 9s are actually stubborn as hell?), but he made sure to establish that they are (he is) here to step in when Izuku can’t handle things by himself. Katsuki even opened up and admitted to his own weaknesses to show why mutual support is so important. Tbh, a lot of the above can be construed as just super healthy type 2 behavior, but not this. The way Izuku acts at his lowest, and his dynamic with Katsuki? Totally different. Dead giveaway for a 9.

Let’s get into the type 9 itself in more detail to show how it applies to Izuku more deeply—seriously, it’s beat for beat. One of the key differences is, while 2s seek validation, 9s are actually resigned to the belief that they aren’t important. Similar to 2s, a 9′s basic fear is of separation, but their basic desire is actually just peace or harmony rather than love. Notice how these motivations are just like a 2’s, except they have the “self” part taken out. With that in mind, they “achieve” their basic desire through selflessness in and of itself, without the need for recognition. That’s not to say that 9s are better than 2s. In fact, a 9 can be worse, in a way. If unhealthy, they will seek peace at almost any cost to themselves. In other words, they can be more self-destructive while still under the impression that they are doing just fine. “Peace” may refer to the expression of empathy, fulfilling the needs of others, sheltering someone, or mediating a fight—but also to repressing their own opinions and needs, not “rocking the boat,” ignoring negative emotions, or becoming a vessel for someone else to vent to.

What about inner peace? 9s value serenity, and thus they have a complicated relationship with the most tumultuous of emotions: anger. On the surface, 9s look like the type that is extremely slow to anger and highly tolerant. However, as much as they would like to believe this about themselves too, deep down, 9s are afraid of what might happen if they lose control. My phrase for it is this: I feel like a bottled tornado. Personally, I also think of anger as a basic desire to make others feel your pain—not necessarily sadistically, but in an effort to be known, to be understood. The difficult thing to grasp, especially for a 9, is that this is NOT inherently a bad thing. It isn’t wrong to seek sympathy. On the contrary, it is harmful to tell yourself that getting angry is wrong, because it’s like telling yourself that your pain is wrong, your pain doesn’t matter.

The problem is it doesn’t stop there. A 9, in shutting down their anger, ends up with such a low opinion of their own heart, their other emotions dull along with it. They cry less, laugh less, love less. It’s often said that they “fall asleep” to themselves. It all starts with anger. It’s interesting to note how different this whole mindset is from toxic masculinity—where men only feel allowed/able to express emotions through anger. This is sorta like the opposite. Anger becomes the dam rather than the river. For Izuku, I want us to consider that his suppression of anger carries with it the implication that he is hiding other things, too. It’s a given. There’s a whole sea of feelings out there, and we can only see the waves hitting the shore. This brings me to the whole “control your heart” thing. I do think it is worth mentioning that Banjou didn’t just tell Izuku to exercise control. He also told him that his anger could be useful if it is harnessed. With this added context, “control” here means “to master.” And Izuku seemed to grasp this concept… sorta. I think that if Izuku is like a 9, we can assume he has trouble understanding how anger could be a worthy source of strength. His emotions in relation to Katsuki feel more like a weakness to him, a character flaw in a hero, who is supposed to be detached and selfless. But he’s trying to understand, even though he’s afraid of it. He essentially applied the same strategy he used for mastering OFA itself: incremental strength training. Which, okay. Take a moment to absorb how odd that is, in relation to emotions, specifically. Does one learn to cry incrementally? Does one learn to use anger by bottling a fucking tornado?? Like, what, you think you’re gonna be able to let out juuust the right amount of air to avoid an explosion??? No, man… if you want to be the master of your emotions you have to be willing to sit with them. Confront them. Listen to them. Take them in completely and accept them as a part of yourself.

For someone like Izuku, though, it is very difficult to imagine how this is even possible. Tomura, as with every villain, can be used to reflect his hero counterpart’s greatest fear about himself. Tomura literally touches everyone and everything with his rage, and as a physical manifestation of that desire to pass his own pain onto others, destruction radiates from his fingertips. Thus, losing control in this manner must be Izuku’s worst nightmare, as if he would be completely unable to stop the collateral damage like an infinite line of dominoes. But his anger is not something he can overcome, as such.

An overarching theme in this heroes vs. villains conflict is that the villains are not merely obstacles to be overcome. Just think back to Himiko’s bitter rejection of the heroic sense of superiority. She demanded not to be pitied, condescended to, or lied to. Likewise, the answer cannot be that Izuku needs to restrain himself where Tomura doesn’t. What purpose would it serve to show that Izuku is better than him? Certainly not saving Tomura. If this was a battle against AFO, it might have been a different story. In that case, Izuku would have to overcome his emotional manipulation tactics. Tomura, on the other hand, is not so strategic. With his strangely childlike tendencies, he must relish making Izuku mad because it brings them closer to the same wavelength. It’s his own twisted way or seeking sympathy, or at least, the closest thing to sympathy he can get anymore, because he believes he is beyond saving. With that in mind, Izuku isn’t going to get anywhere unless he rises to meet him. Izuku has to match Tomura’s hatred with equally strong emotions of his own, whatever they may be, or else face the loss of OFA (as established in 305). This is not an easy thing to ask of a 9, once they have started to pull the blood from their extremities, become cold and numb. Bringing back circulation is painful and makes the skin crawl.

In case you’re worried about the focus on anger here, I want to reiterate that concealed anger in a 9 is just one sign of so much more. Back when everyone started fretting about Izuku’s habit of self-sacrifice, which would have been the only thing we need to worry about if he were a 2, I was freaking out because Izuku was also starting to look like a person who has too many secrets. You don’t even have to acknowledge the possibility that he lied about what triggered blackwhip. It’s written all over his face all the time these days. It’s especially noticeable when you contrast him with Katsuki after all his own growth. Katsuki confides in people. He acknowledges his weaknesses. He enjoys being himself. He asserts his place. He thinks about Izuku all the damn time and now he even lets himself be soft about it. All this warmth while Izuku is distant, muted, and blank. I know all too well what this state of mind is like. Man, I hate secrets. You get to the point where you don’t know how to talk about even the simplest most inconsequential shit. And the bigger things? They’re like a growing snowball of words in your throat that cannot possibly fit out of your mouth. The “easiest” way to cope is to simply fade into the rhythm of life. Go with the flow.

Since 9s have a natural curiosity about the interiority of other people, they may choose to focus on that in order to divert their own attention away from themselves. Taken to the extreme, they will lose track of their sense of self. Like I said, you can see Izuku doing this as he fights, analyzing the psyche of his opponent, and his match against Shouto in the sports festival was a fantastic early example. They became friends because of how observant Izuku is. His emotional intelligence and intuition are very strong, but gradually, as he has taken on greater responsibilities and experienced more trauma, he has gotten worse at applying these skills to himself. You know, we go on and on about how his narration has been reduced to nearly nothing, and it’s not just an absence of introspection, it’s an absence of self. It creates a lack of ownership over the narrative—what should be his narrative.

Right now, he’s focusing on trying to see Tomura as a person, figuring him out. I think it would be really satisfyingly ironic if in the process, he ends up uncovering insights about himself instead. It’s about time we learn what Izuku’s secrets are. I don’t actually think that Izuku mastering anger will constitute the emotion that is strong enough to keep Tomura from taking OFA. Moreover, he can’t expect to reach Tomura’s core, Tenko, unless he exposes his own. Rather, anger is the conduit for Izuku to unlock something else. Think of the way he described how Katsuki is his image of victory. The feeling manifests when he asserts a stronger sense of self (the urge to win) and he becomes more free with his words. I have no doubt that Tomura has the power to make unfiltered honesty spill out of him. He knows how to bring out his selfish needs, his pain, his pressure points, his fears, his insecurities. Hell, maybe Mt. Fuji erupting is a metaphor. I want to see Izuku explode while Tomura watches with mad glee. But then I want Izuku to Realize Things such that it finally sets him free. Then, instead of Tomura witnessing yet another person he touches fall apart, he gets to see someone become whole.

"I let the scale tip, feel all of it. It's uncomfortable but right. And we were born to try to see each other through. To know and love ourselves and others well is the most difficult and meaningful work we'll ever do." --Sleeping At Last, 'Nine'