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alk4li · 4 months

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“HOW DEEP IS YOUR LOVE—

cyno, thoma, neuvilette, alhaitham, diluc, kaeya

what type of relationships you have with the genshin men? a serious relationship, situationship, fwb etc.

a/n: i rewrote this sm times cus i wasnt happy with how it turned out

SERIOUS RELATIONSHIP—

cyno

✧ ok i see him as such an amazing lover tbh

✧ would want to become a dad bc he thinks dad jokes are the next step towardsa higher level of comedic excellency

✧ tighnari begs you not to let this man have a child

✧ but despite knowing his job could endanger you, he trusts in your ability to protect yourself

✧ would randomly buy you trinkets that remind him of you bc hes usually away for so long

✧ he keeps a little box of momentos that he snagged from dates with you. it consists of things like tickets from events you both went to and seashells from the time you both went to the beach.

✧ will not shut up about invocation tcg

✧ almost went insane when you jokingly told him you didn't want to play invocation tcg with him

✧ when you do silly things he joins you without question

you laid down your living room floor with your hands outstretched towards the ceiling. you shut your eyes as you soaked in the feeling of the ceiling fan gently blowing wind. you heard a pair of footsteps approaching, eventually stopping next to you. you pry your eyes open to see cyno looming over you. "what are you doing?" he asked, gesturing to your limp figure. you prop yourself up on your elbows and stared back at cyno, "i wanted to feel like a leaf." you replied. cyno stared at you for a moment, before walking towards the windows. he reels the curtains back and shoves the window panels open, allowing a gush of wind in. intrigued, you stand up and watched as cyno began making his way back to you. "what are you doing?" you question cyno who was standing behind you now. cyno reaches under your arms and swiftly lifts you up, earning a shriek from you. "pretending that i'm a tree."

neuvilette

✧ probably a little busy for a relationship but tries to make it work

✧ i feel like befriending the melusines is a easy way into his heart lol

✧ you had a small interaction with neuvilette one day, probably bumping into him and he helped you onto your feet

✧ the melusines saw this and their minds started PLOTTING

✧ they bothered you and neuvilette every hour of the day for 2 months straight about a 'blind date'

✧ when you both finally agreed (the melusines lied to both of you that the other had agreed to get you to agree) you almost passed out when you realised who he was

✧ it worked out though, because now you're in his kitchen throwing apples at his head

✧ he gives out amazing advice too

✧ ah, what a man

standing at the entrance of the cafe, the melusines snicker and giggle. they nudge your calves, signalling you to enter. hesitantly, you step foot into the quiet cafe. you looked around, trying to find the guy the melusines have been trying to set you up with for the past 2 months. you nervously searched, looking for a man who was sitting by himself. when your eyes landed on a secluded seat by the windows, you almost fainted. with languid footsteps, you walked towards neuvilette, who had noticed you when you walked in. neuvilette stood and pulled out your seat, "have a seat," you gave him a small smile as he settled back in next to you. "i remember you, i bumped into you a few months back," neuvilette said, eyebrows raised in amusement. that's when an epiphany hit the both of you, "oh." he mumbled. "that's why the melusines kept pestering me," you giggled, taking note of a few colourful animal ears poking out from the nearby window. "well, let's at least entertain their wishes for a little." neuvilette nods at your request, flipping open the menu.

thoma

✧ 10/10 lover boy

✧ he wants a established relationship

✧ when he first confessed he was a MESS

✧ dreams of settling down with kids in inazuma with his lover.

✧ i feel like he would appreciate scenic dates more than dinners and shopping dates.

✧ he wants children in the future

✧ SUCH A FAMILY MAN

✧ he gets insecure about not being good enough for his s/o

✧ but he tries his best to build a future w you!

the streets of inazuma were lively and full of colour, the evening sun settling in the background. your footsteps blended in seamlessly with thoma's, with your hand laid comfortably in his callous palms. "ow-" a quiet voice rang behind you and thoma. shuffling is heard as you turn to see a child laying face down on the concrete pavement. releasing your hold on thoma, you stepped closer to the boy. soft hazel eyes looked back at your own, glistening in the light. a smile etched itself onto your face as you extend a hand towards the boy, he hesitantly takes it as you gently lift him onto his feet. "are you okay?" you ask. the boy shyly nods, a wince escapes his lips just as quickly. glancing down at his limped foot, a small gash on his knee starts bleeding. with swift movements, you grab a napkin to gently dab at his wound. spectating from behind was an awestruck thoma, something felt so comforting about the interaction. without a silver of doubt and unequivocally, "she is the one."

SITUATIONSHIP—

alhaitham

✧ this is a hill i will forever die on

✧ he's so rational.. would make a pros and cons list about dating

✧ definitely tells you "sorry, i love you but this will never work. you need someone who can be there for you."

✧ he thinks that with his work and your life, it would clash and create conflict

✧ whenever you argue about

✧ everyone has no idea what is going on, tighnari and cyno thinks he's dumb and kaveh thinks you're dumb

✧ kaveh doesn't understand why you stay with a prick like alhaitham

✧ he truly likes you but his heart will forever lie in his love for his study and craft.

✧ he wouldn't tell you to wait for him because he's calculated the optimal time for dating and it's undefined

✧ sadly, he will never have enough time for another lover

alhaitham's embrace flushed against your weary skin. his room sat too silent yet too loud. the only sound you heard was the gentle beating of althaitham's heavy heart. his hands cradles your own, "i don't understand why you keep distancing yourself," a raspy whisper falls from your lips. alhatham instinctively draws your body closer to his own, his face moves towards the valley of your neck. feathery light touches grazes your forearm. "this was what i was worried about. you would be unhappy with how absent i am," the words hang coarsely in the air, cold to the touch but burning in your heart. you breathed in sharply. “this is why a relationship would be a bad idea.”

anger rose in your throat, “that's different. you're absent now because you're choosing to avoid me. you’re being selfish.” breaking free from his embrace, you turn and pin your fiery eyes against his emerald ones. however, he could only reply with a solemn look, “the probability this will turn out well is zero,” he replied. alhaitham knows how probability works, it can never truly be zero, but it can also never be ensured that this would turn out well. alhaitham is just a man that wouldn't take that risk.

diluc

✧ this man has no time for lovers (and way too traumatised)

✧ but does the occasional fancy date

✧ the type to leave you hanging for 3 business days

✧ makes it up to you by buying flowers after realising his mistake

✧ all in all he doesnt see this as a long term thing, so dont get too disappointed

✧ but he also can't take the feeling of losing you because he can't stomach the idea of losing someone he loves

✧ it's a hot and cold goose chase

✧ you'll be a happy for a week then he ghosts you for another week

curling in the comfort of your couch, you sulkily wolf down a bag of snacks. it has been officially 72 hours since the last time you heard back from diluc. the red headed man had disappeared without a word three days ago. after a night out, with a promise to pick you up the next day. it has been well over the decided time, and diluc is once again, a no show! a loud knock is heard against your door, there's a silent pause before another loud bang was heard. you pull your weight and drag yourself to the door. in front, diluc stood, a rare display of panic in his eyes, a bouquet of flowers clumsily clasped between his arm. you slant against the door frame, disappointed eyes stare back at his. "im so sorry, i just got so caught up on works and," he uncharacteristically fumbles over his words, guilt eats away at him as he eyes your sunken and tired eyes. you nod, looking at your feet. "i figured," there's a moment of ghostly silence. diluc hesitantly reaches forward, lightly resting his palm on your shoulder, testing the waters. when you don't push him away, firm arms wrap around your head, pulling you into his chest. a chaste kiss on your forehead, diluc gently rubs your back, "i'll make it up. i promise."

FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS—

kaeya

✧ bsfr this man is too traumatised for love but would chase the adrenaline of it

✧ he doesn't want something a hassling as a situationship, no strings attached!

✧ he's still really cordial with you tho, treats you well

✧ buthonestly.. don’t get too attached or expect much, mans has been through the wringer of life

✧ lisa suspects something going on between you two but has no evidence to prove it

✧ amber just thinks you both are secretly dating

the feeling of kaeya’s rough arms clinging to your abdomen shakes you awake, suddenly realising that you’re wound up in his bed. again. the movement makes the male beside you stir, he groggily props himself up on his elbows, rubbing his temples, “morning, y/n. slept well?” a grin spreads across his face as he grabs and pulls you back onto the mattress. “great, actually. dreamt about monstadt without kaeya alberich,” you joke. kaeya rolled his eyes, gently punching your shoulder. “how awfully boring, who would accompany you to insufferable events then?” kaeya teases, poking at your sides. despite how domestic it all felt, deep down you both knew that by 12pm, these memories would slip into another void along with the other many escapades.

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shadowed-dancer · 2 years

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Thoughts on Episode 124 (S6 E11)

Reeling reveals, devilish dancing, and brutal broadcasts. Let’s talk about it

HUGE spoilers for the episode but nothing for the manga. That said, it is wild that the contents of this episode are no longer considered a spoiler

Oh boy these Dabis sure do be dancing

I am going absolutely feral this episode was so good!

However I will do my best to stay composed

I gotta start with a nitpick just to get it off my chest. Way back in episode 1 of this season, they added a frame when Twice talks about the League that showed Dabi sitting in a chair. Many people (myself included) assumed this was a reference to his video, but the chairs were different colours (ep 1 it was blue, now it is red)?! WHAT?! WHY?! I know it’s random but it just bugs me. This season has been really good with keeping little details straight and then they do something like this. Given the fact that Dabi was wearing clothes in that scene, it is now my hc that he filmed multiple versions of this and picked the one that felt the most dramatic (must have decided that shirtless with a red chair was the way to go lol)

And I need to reiterate: that is absolutely a nitpick that in no way takes away from the rest of the episode. I just found it odd that they went through the trouble of adding such a scene to episode 1, but didn't keep it consistent

Ok anyways as for the episode itself

ueah this good

Brain happy

The first, Dabi-less half is honestly wonderful, which surprised me that they put so much effort into it

Ochako and Toga both looked gorgeous, and the tension between the two was done lovely

Then the episode switched to Endeavor and like one insanely smooth shot and this episode went from a 10 to a 10 billion

However, I’ll admit it, I kind of didn’t like the rearrangement regarding the broadcast. I loved how the manga had a little hint in the Toga section of tvs losing their signal, then the chapter starts with Rei, goes to the battlefield, and then cuts back to the broadcast

The bit with Toga made it all feel connected, like it’s happening at the same time, but it’s fine that it’s gone

I’m more disappointed by the rearrangement with Rei. It gave it a bit of build up that the anime adaptation now lacks, and honestly I was a bit taken aback by how sudden the moment popped up

I mean I guess props for showing how Endeavor must have felt lol

Upon a rewatch it doesn’t bother me nearly as much, but still. It’s probably just because I’m so used to the manga at this point

That being said, the second the monologue started all my complaints totally melted away

The voice acting! The animation! The DANCING! They really made him clap and spin around and I LOVE IT

TINY BABY TOUYA

and on that note TINY BABY FUYUMI

Any and all nitpicks I made previously are now null and void because of that scene of Fuyumi with a flower and Touya clinging to Enji’s arm

Oh man I love this episode

Also! Confirmation that the Sekoto fire was red! I’m glad they kept it, because many people were pointing out that that was likely the main reason Enji didn’t suspect Dabi

Im curious to see how they handle the soccer flashback when we eventually get there (mostly regarding hair colour lol. I want to know if they are going to give an explanation why it was red, or if they’d gonna colour it white and pretend they didn’t mess up haha)

I don’t know how I felt about Best Jeanist starting and ending it. I knew it was coming because I read the manga and had a feeling they’d sandwich the episode like this, but it almost felt like it was taking away from Dabi’s big moment

Which ha! I guess he technically was!

Still, it reminds me of the upcoming arc, which I am reluctant to think about

I don’t know what else they could have done, I just wanted Dabi to have a moment I guess (and I also wanted to forget how many cliffhangers the upcoming arc has lol)

Ooooohhhh and the ed hurt. I had a feeling they’d do a young and old Touya thing, but MAN did they do it well. Everything about it. The bright yellows to the cold blues, the big smile to the scream, oh my gosh

Anyways, overall 10/10. If you think this review sounds nitpicky it’s because there’s only so many ways I can express my absolute joy, yet it takes time to explain my grievances (however slight they may be)

I’m away for family stuff this week but you can bet that if I weren’t I would be watching this episode on constant repeat

Guess that will have to wait for next week lol

#bnha #bnha season 6 #dabi #touya todoroki #toya todoroki #shoto todoroki #enji todoroki

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jimint · 4 years

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from your creations, choose gifs and do a split of before and after adding your colouring! (left being the original & right the edited part)

tagged by: @taemaknae, @flipthatjacketjiminie, @honsool, @kkulmoon & @lyseries (thank you so much for thinking of me 🥺)

well my colouring isn’t that impressive tbh. i don’t have a “default”? psd, i start every colouring for each gif from scratch (unless they’re from the same video). i try to make the colours look as neutral as possible, aka i hate when a colour stands out way too much because of the lighting (ex. if a magenta, a yellow or cyan is too much, i try to reduce it... like the 4th gif) also i like making the shadows/blacks stand out a bit. my go-to tools are: selective colour, exposure, colour balance, contrast, saturation & curves/levels if necessary (not in that order). in general, i just play around with the adjustments until i’m satisfied with how it looks (& hope it actually looks good 😅)

tagging: @jung-koook, @yoongi-bts, @taeyungie, @syubb, @jiminslight, @vjimin, @yoongikook, @taeguks, @userjiminie, @jimimon & anyone that wants to do this! (i’m not sure if you already did this challenge but if you did or don’t feel like doing it, feel free to ignore 🤍)

#let's pretend like i'm not posting this at 3am days late #being late is my brand #another things i should mention #when i'm making a comp gifset i try to keep the colouring consistent #and another reason i like to keep the colours neutral #is so the gifs don't come out too grainy #also i fixed/changed a bit the colouring of these gifs from the 'originals'#just cause they look better like this #plus my gif process changed a bit since then #ok i'll stop talking now hehe #again thank you guys for tagging me :(#challenges #m*#g*

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nomsugayoongi · 3 years

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Make up/Make Out!

Pairing: Jungkook X OC fem

Warnings: It's just smut. Pure smut. 🔞

A/N: Written and edited on a phone so please forgive any mistakes. Suggestions for more are very welcome and also thoughts. Let me know what you think.

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"Am I good to finish for the night?"

She'd been on her feet all day. As make up and hair assistant to one of the most popular groups on the planet, her job consisted of being ready at any moment, day or night, to get the guys of BTS camera ready. Today had been a particularly heavy day. Photoshoots and zoom interviews. You would have thought a global pandemic would have slowed her workload right down but apparently not. The boys were just as busy as ever, determined to remain a presence even when the world was falling apart.

"I'm not sure actually. I think one of the guys is maybe doing a live. Shouldn't take long, just a touch up. Let me go check." Another assistant hurried off, leaving her in what had been dubbed the "ready room" She sighed, sorting the array of make up products strewn on the counter into each boys respective make up bag. 7 individual colour palettes. 7 skin tones. 7 favoured brands. She'd been doing it long enough now that she didn't have to think anymore. Jimin's chapstick in one bag. Hobi's concealer in another. She was tired and frustrated. 16 months of a global lockdown meant she was now living in the guys home in the staff wing. Apart from video calls, she hadn't seen anyone and wasn't able to leave really. On the odd occasion when she did have to accompany the guys somewhere, she was subjected to regular covid tests. It was all just a little overwhelming. Like much of the planet, she was beginning to feel a little stir crazy.

The door opened and the assistant from earlier poked her head round. "Jungkook is doing a live. He's on his way down now. Can you handle it or do you want me to stay?" She could see the hopeful look in her colleagues eye that she could go for the night. Sighing inwardly, she nodded. "I'm good. Enjoy the rest of the night. I'll see you in the morning." She said, faking a smile. An immediate thankful grin was aimed in her direction before her co-worker quickly dissapeared. She sighed again, picking out Jungkooks bag and rifling though it. A V Live wasn't as intense as actual interviews. She'd maybe need to touch up his foundation and neaten his hair. With any luck she could be done in 10 minutes.

She was just about finished setting up when the door opened again. She turned with a welcoming smile but frowned a little as he walked in. His hair was wet, a towel still slung around his shoulders, face completely bare. "Have you just showered?" She muttered. He nodded, strolling over to his favourite chair and slumping in it. "Yeah. I wasn't going to bother with a live but it's been ages and I miss ARMY. Plus I feel kind of restless tonight." He explained. She nodded, a little frustrated that she'd have to entirely redo his face and hair. So much for 10 minutes. But it was her job after all. "So what are we doing?" She questioned, walking up behind him and leaning on the chair, a hand either side of his shoulders. He shrugged, looking at her through the mirror in front of him. "Whatever you want. Just make me look ok for the live." He replied. She chuckled slightly, studying him through the mirror. "You already look ok for the live. But I'll dry your hair. It's freezing in the office. Can't have you catching a cold." She smiled. He chuckled, pulling his phone out of the pocket of his baggy cargo pants and loading up a game. She smiled a little more. Typical Jungkook.

She got to work, removing the damp towel from around his shoulders, tossing it aside and reaching for the hairdryer. It didn't take long to dry. His hair was fine but he had a lot of it and luckily he didn't bleach it into the ground like some of his band mates so it was pretty healthy. Once dried, it was soft and shiny, falling prettily around his face. "Want it straightening?" She asked, digging her fingernails between the dark brown strands at the crown of his head and ruffling it slightly. His hair naturally had a slight wave to it. He had dropped his phone into his lap and his eyes were closed. He liked the slight scratch of her fingernails. It felt nice. "Hmm?" He muttered. "Oh..yeah. Straighten it." He opened his eyes with a sigh. "Are you alright?" She asked softly. "Yeah. Bit of a headache. The scratching was nice." He replied, a small smile playing around his lips. She chuckled, setting down the hairdryer and diving her fingers into his hair, raking her nails lightly across his scalp. Head massage wasn't exactly part of her job description but she had a soft spot for Jungkook. Her tummy filled with warmth as his head to lolled forward and he grumbled softly, eyes closing again. She couldn't help but smile, pressing her fingers to his temples and rubbing in slow circles. "Do you need painkillers?" She asked softly. He grumbled again but shook his head a little. "Nah. Already feels a bit better." He muttered. "Tension headache?" She questioned. "Probably." She diverted her rubbing to his hairline, digging her thumbs into the nape of his neck. His head rolled heavily against her hand, a relieved moan slipping past his parted lips. She watched him in the mirror, her stomach churning as she studied him. Reminding herself that she was working, she reluctantly dropped her hands, reaching for the straighteners. "So... we're straightning." She muttered. He cleared his throat, correcting his posture where he'd slumped down the chair. "Yeah." He nodded.

She ran the flat irons through his hair, alternating between looking at what she was doing and glancing at him through the mirror. "What are we doing with your face?" She questioned, applying a conditioning spray to his already silky soft hair, just so that the heat from the straighteners didn't make it frizzy. "Just make me look good." he said with a shrug. She grinned, picking up a clean powder brush, she spun him round to face her and booped the end of his nose with the brush. "Done" she smiled. He laughed, nose crinkling adorably. "You literally didn't do anything." She shrugged, placing the brush back on the counter. "You don't need anything doing." She said simply. He rolled his eyes, his ears turning pink. "I look like shit." He huffed. She was silent for a second, eyes flicking across his face. His hair was perfect, shiny and soft, skimming his large brown doe eyes. His nose was cute. His lips were full and though slightly chapped, kind of perfect too. Without foundation to soften his features, his jawline looked sharper. His skin was pretty good, the lack of make up making the cute moles dotted around his face clearer. The scar on his right cheek was more noticable but it gave his face character. "You really, really don't." She replied.

He shuffled shyly, fiddling with the phone abandoned on his lap. "I do. I look...plain. I can't go on camera like this." He muttered. She sighed, perching on the back of the sofa next to her. "Jungkook, you couldn't look plain if you tried. Trust me, if your ARMY see you like this they will lose their damn minds." She sighed, folding her arms across her chest. He glanced up at her, eyebrow hitching curiously. "See me like what?" He muttered. She shrugged, feeling somewhat uncomfortable at the things she didn't seem to be able to stop herself from saying. "Like...you. As you are. You've got that...thing...going on." She huffed. "What thing?" She rolled her eyes. "You know what thing. You give off heavy boyfriend energy. Especially when you look like this." She mumbled. He laughed, looking at her more intently. "Boyfriend energy?" She chuckled too, her face feeling hotter than she'd like. "Yeah. You know, that whole duality thing. It's cute. But it's sexy too." She babbled. "You think I'm sexy?" His eyebrows raised, his lips fighting a smile. "As your make up artist, I don't think anything." She chuckled. "And as you?" He questioned. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to look into his pretty eyes. "As me? I think you're one of the most confusing men I've ever met." She replied. His gaze was intense, forcing her to speak even though she wasn't actually sure she wanted to. "Confusing how?" He asked quietly.

She thought for a minute then shrugged. "Confusing in the way you play absolute havok with a woman and don't even seem to notice that you're doing it. You're such a contradiction. You're sweet and cute and warm. You're...soft and cuddly. The kind of guy who you want to snuggle and play with his hair as he sleeps. But you also have the ability to absolutely blow that out of the water and turn into this whole other creature. This...sinfully hot, dripping in sex appeal, gyrating menace. And you seem to be able to flip from one to the other and back in literally seconds. You're hormonal whiplash guy. One minute you wanna cuddle him, the next you wanna fuck him senseless, then back to cuddling. Confusing. But either way, whether you're cuddle guy or sexy guy, you're compeltely disarming. Captivating even." She paused, blushing at the heated expression on his perfect face. "So...you don't have to worry about what ARMY think. However you rock up, you're good." She finished with an awkward shrug. "Anyway, if you want me to do your face properly for the camera I will." She said, standing up off the back of the sofa and heading for her make up brushes.

"Woah. Hang on a minute. You can't just say all that and then pretend you didn't. Are you attracted to me?" He asked, smirking slightly, sexy guy definitely rearing his head. She tried her damnedest not to look at him. "Umm...you're attractive, yeah." She shrugged. "That's not what I asked." He hummed. "We've been in lockdown for 16 months. Everyone's attractive right now." She joked, trying to divert the gaze currently burning a hole through her professionalism. "You keep dodging the question." He pushed. She sighed, dropping the beauty blender she was currently picking apart and turning to him. "Yeah, I'm attracted to you. A large portion of the globe is attracted to you." She shrugged. "Yeah but I wasn't asking the globe. I asked you." He replied. "Well I answered. So are we doing your make up or no? It's late." She sighed, flustered. The way he was looking at her made her squirm. Curiously, but with something darker going on behind those doe eyes. "I don't know if I'm attracted to you. I've never thought about it." He muttered. She swallowed hard, looking everywhere but at him. "I didn't ask." She shrugged. "Yeah but after what you said, I can't just ignore it." He sat back in the chair, studying her. Her stomach twisted nervously. "You're cute. Short. I like that. You have nice hair. And your eyes are really pretty." He said absently, as though not actually talk to her, just assessing. She shuffled uncomfortably, her cheeks burning. "I like you. I'm just...not good at this sort of thing. I started training for BTS when I was 15. It didn't leave me a whole lot of time or opportunity to figure out the whole dating thing." He said, a hint of shyness dripping into his voice. "Oh please, I've seen you on stage. You can flirt like a pro." She scoffed. "Flirt, yeah. When it's empty. I can do it when I know it's not going anywhere. Flirting on stage isn't real. I'm not good when it is real." He shrugged. "I dunno...maybe we should...kiss..or something." He babbled. She gawped at him stupidly. "Easiest way to figure out what's going on here." He said, another shrug indicating his nerves. She swallowed, nodding slightly. "Ok." She didn't even really think about the answer, it just fell out.

He stood, shaking his hair out if his eyes, alternating between jamming his hands in his pockets and taking them out again. He was too cute. A kind of deer in the headlights look about him. The confidence he exuded on stage was nowhere near. He looked nervous. He took a few steps, closing the gap between them. Her heart was racing. He kept his hands limply by his sides as he inched forward, his eyes closing, a slight hitch of breath as his nose bumped hers then gently he pressed his lips to hers. His lips were warm and soft with just a hint of rough where they were chapped. Her heart rate doubled pretty much instantly, even at the lingering, closed mouthed peck. They weren't even really kissing but her stomach fluttered wildly. He shuffled a little closer, catching her bottom lip then the top lip then slowly opening his mouth a little more. His hands moved, running his fingertips up her arm, to her shoulder then resting on her neck, his thumb stroking her jaw. The other hand sat comfortably on her hip, pulling her into him just a little more. She sighed against his lips, her insides going nuts as her arms snaked around his narrow waist. Cautiously, he licked at her top lip, gauging her reaction. She opened up, allowing him to slide his tongue past her lips. A quiet involuntary moan escaped her. He tasted of sweetness and biscuit and she idly wondered if he'd been eating Pocky recently. The hand sat against her hip gripped a little harder. He exhaled heavily through his nose as his tongue caressed hers. He hummed against her mouth, withdrawing his tongue but still taking her lips in deep, lingering kisses, almost like he couldn't quite force himself to stop. With a long sigh, he pulled back, just enough to seperate their lips but still close enough for his nose to nudge hers. "Ok. Yeah. Definitely feel it." He whispered. Her eyes opened, her head fuzzy as she gazed at him with a mixture of affection and desire. She didn't even notice that he was looking at her the same way. He ran his fingers through her hair, a smile breaking onto his kiss reddened lips. She giggled dopily, forehead against his, heart skipping a beat at his responding giggle.

"Don't you need to go do a live?" She grinned. He shook his head, fingers entwining with hers. "It can wait till tomorrow. I just want to keep kissing you." His lips were on hers again before she could even process his reply. She moaned softly, melting against him. He felt sturdy and warm, he smelled amazing. He tasted delicious. He was almost too good. Her head swam at the feel of his tongue in her mouth, exploring, licking and tasting, possessing. He was literally making her weak at the knees. Her grip on him tightened, clutching at his steady frame to keep herself upright, genuinely worried that the depth of his heady kiss was going to send her slithering to the floor. She was just about managing to keep a tentative grasp on her composure until his lips left hers and started fluttering along her cheek, stopping just below her ear to suck the delicate skin there. A shiver bolted down her spine, her head rolling aside to give him more access. He moaned quietly against her neck, teeth nipping her skin. She gasped, another shiver errupting through her. "Damn it Jungkook" she whispered. She didn't know what she was damning. Everything? Nothing? It just seemed to be the only words she could claw from her addled brain. He bit a little harder, instantly soothing the slight burst of pain with a slow, tender lick of his soft, warm tongue. Her fingers knotted through his hair, dragging his head back so she could attack his mouth. He groaned against her lips, pressing his hips against her. She pulled his head back, her eyes locking on his. "You need to stop. I'm too horny for this shit." She panted, kissing along his jawline. He bit his lip, hand cradling the back of her head as her lips and tongue skimmed across his throat. "I can do something about that if you want." He murmured. She moaned again, temptation burning hot at her core. "Fuck" she hissed. He pulled her back from the assault she was carrying out on his neck. "Do you have a room mate?" He asked, brown eyes smouldering. She shook her head. "Where's your room?"

She could hardly believe how her night was turning out as she tried to make it to her room with some semblance of normality. Especially with Jungkook in tow. Luckily it was late enough that nobody was still wandering around in the hallways so the fact that she looked like she was about to eat him wasn't an issue. Arriving at her room, she'd barely closed the door behind them when he was back on her, pressing her into the door, lips on hers, hands wondering to her shirt, stopping the kiss barely long enough to pull it over her head before his tongue was back in her mouth. His hands agaisnt the door, either side of her head, boxing her in as he held her still with his body. She could already feel the uncomfortable ache between her thighs, heat pooling inside her making her squirm. How the fuck could he get her so riled up just by kissing her?

His lips moved down, back to the spot on her neck he seemed to enjoy biting, his teeth nipping and sucking once again. He was going to leave a mark and she absolutely didn't care. She hoped he did. She hoped he left several. If it meant he didn't stop, she'd happily have him suck and bite his initials into her skin if he wanted. His lips travelled further down, hands lifting off the door to cup her boobs, pushing them up and groaning in his throat as he licked languidly down her cleavage. He used his thumbs to tease her bra clad nipples, nipping and sucking at the swell of her ample breasts. She pushed his hair back, staring at him opened mouth as he moved her bra aside and wrapped his lips round her nipple. She moaned softly, biting her lip. He sucked deeply, the pull travelling straight down to her pussy, causing her clit to throb needily. His fingers tugging and rolling her other nipple. She wriggled desperately against the solid wooden door. He switched sides, giving the other nipple the same attention, his mouth felt hot and wet, tongue flicking quickly then slowly, then sucking then nibbling. Each gesture making her pussy clench.

She didn't know how much more she could take. The needy ache was becoming overpowering. Luckily he seemed to sense it, his hands slipping down, flicking the button of her jeans open. He eyed her quickly, requesting permission which was granted with an almost frantic nod. He smirked, hooking his fingers into her jeans and pushing them over her hips teasingly slowly. Her underwear went with them, balling together round her ankles. She couldn't even think enough to kick them off. He stood, leaning against the door with one hand, his eyes on hers as his fingers trailed lightly across her stomach then down, grazing her inner thigh. His smirk was torturous, knowing exactly what she needed and purposefully grazing but giving no relief. "Don't be a brat." She panted. He chuckled darkly, his fingers circling her bellybutton, the tickle making her abdomen clench. "This is what I was talking about. The duality. I like you more when you're being a bunny." She hissed. He laughed again. "No you don't." He muttered, pressing a searing kiss to her lips. "You've waited 16 months. What's an extra two minutes?" He smirked, his fingers once again playing around her inner thigh. "Jungkook I swear to god, I'm just gonna do it myself in a minute." She growled. He rolled his eyes, chuckling breathlessly. "Ok ok. Jesus."

He licked his lips, his smirk faltering as his fingers grazed her slit. "Fuck, you're already wet." He moaned. "Duh, I've been wet since you kissed me in the other room." She whispered. He bit his lip, groaning deeply, his fingers pushing through her folds, finding her clit quickly and circling. The ache tightened in her belly, her knees buckling. He dipped his fingers down against her hole, smearing her own sticky liquid around his fingertips before moving back up to her clit, his index and ring fingers parting her folds while his middle finger gently rubbed her sensative bud. Her breath shuddered, eyes closing as she swallowed thickly. Her head fell back, banging against the door. She was so turned on that his touch almost burned, so sensative already. He maintained a steady pace with his fingers, dipping back down occasionally to recover them in the fluid now leaking from her hole to make the glide of his fingertips smoother. She could barely breath. The stimulation of his careful touch on her clit was almost unbearable, causing the needy ache of her pussy to increase rapidly. She needed to be stretched and filled, her thoughts lost in how his fingers would feel slipping in and out of her greedy hole. Or better yet, his hard cock. She groaned, eyes rolling back as she felt his lips back on her neck. She gripped at his hair, inhaling through clenched teeth. "Jungkook, I need you to fuck me." She whined. He moaned, biting her neck again. "I'm going to. Just not yet." He muttered. She growled pathetically, writhing against the door as he maintained the steady torture with his fingers. She couldn't keep her hands still, grabbing at his hair and his shoulder and the door frame as the pleasure built from a subtle warmth to a searing heat, creeping though her limbs and making her weak. "Fuck...I can't.." she choked, not actually knowing what the end of the statement was. Can't stand it. Can't function. Can't breath. Can't wait. The gradual build of her orgasm was now rushing towards her with alarming speed, every careful brush of his fingertips nudging her closer. "Ahhh. Jungkook...fuck" she huffed. He smirked, lifting his head from her neck to kiss her.

It didn't fit. She expected him to ravage her mouth. He didn't. He kissed her softly, his tongue dancing across her lips, barely any pressure, his free hand coming up to stroke her cheek. Emotional whiplash man in full effect. The action of his fingers was making her wild but his kiss was sweet and soothing. It felt so strange to be kissed that way while being held on the very edge of an orgasm. The way he kept the same steady pace was vicious. She wanted him to speed up, go harder, follow the flow of her building release but he didn't. The slow build drew out her pleasure, his pace maddening. A rush of heat flooded through her, stilling her lips against his mouth, making her gasp for air as every muscle in her body constricted. She could hear her own pleasured wails but they didn't sound like any kind of noise she'd ever made before. Her eyes screwed shut, back arching off the door as her orgasm hit violently, heat coursing from her core and seeping though the rest of her body. She panted helplessly, spots dancing in front of her eyes, her muscles slowly realising. When her knees went, he had an arm around her waist to hold her up. "I've got you." He whispered, kissing her jawline softly. His fingers slowed as she began to shudder, instead moving to trace light, ticklish patterns on her thigh. Her head flopped heavily against his shoulder, fingers gripping at his back like he was the only thing keeping her in one piece. She didn't even notice him moving her until she felt herself sinking heavily into her bed. He laid beside her, chin resting in his hand as he smiled, using the other hand to move her hair off her face. She was quiet for a few minutes, slowly calming her ragged breathing down, enjoying the blissful tingles fading out. When her eyes could focus enough, she looked at him and whined quietly, her heart thumping painfully. He was beyond beautiful. A shaky hand lifted to brush a few strands of dark brown hair away from his pretty eyes. "Wow" she whispered. He chuckled, staring back at her. "You can sleep if you want to. I don't mind." He said softly, noticing her still dozy expression. She shook her head. "Don't wanna sleep. Just need a minute." She muttered. "Kiss me."

He did so immediately. She felt liked she'd kissed him so much yet it wasn't even nearly enough. He was the kind of guy you could lose hours of every day just attached to his face. It was something she would never tire of. Her fingers ran through his hair, sighing against his perfect lips. In her post orgasm haze, she just felt soft for him. Everything about him was so enticing, the pull of him overwhelming. She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. She gripped him tighter than she needed to, suddenly afraid of what would happen when the night was over. He broke the kiss, frowning at her slightly. "What's wrong?" He whispered, fingers trailing across her swollen lips. She kissed his fingertips, holding onto his wrist as she looked at him. "I just...don't want this to end." She muttered. He smiled, rolling his eyes at her. "It doesn't have to." He said simply. She relaxed a little, returning his smile, then pulling him in for yet more kissing.

The kiss became heated pretty quickly. She'd already had an orgasm but he hadn't. He nipped at her bottom lip, hands roaming all over her. He was pretty notorious for his lack of patience and while he had decidedly more restraint in the bedroom, he wasn't a saint. He'd been hard the entire time he'd been fingering her and while he did get off on watching her pleasure, he was beginning to feel needy. He pushed his hips into her thigh, searching for some friction. She pulled away from his lips with a sullen pout. "Why do you still have so many clothes on?" She whined. He chuckled, pushing himself up into a sitting position and shrugging. "Because you haven't taken them off yet." He replied. She sat too, batting her eyelashes and kissing the end of his nose. "Well that's pretty shitty of me. I'm sorry." She joked, pulling his shirt over his head. She'd wanted to be cute and playful but Jungkook without clothes was no joke. She groaned, eyes lingering on his sculpted chest and tight abs. "Jesusfuck" she muttered, broad shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist, the dark ink circling his right arm contrasted strongly against his skin. She bit her lip, oogling him shamelessly.He chuckled, feeling a little bashful. She trailed her fingertips down his chest, her lip caught between her teeth as they skimmed past his belly button and down to the waistband of his cargo pants. With a flick, the button popped open and he lifted his ass to help her pull them off. She'd barely got them to his thighs when she let out another groan. He was hard. His cock straining against his black boxers, a wet spot at the head where pre-cum had soaked through the material. She abandoned her mission to remove his pants, feeling strangely compelled, almost like she had no control as she leant forward, peeling the tight band of his underwear back just enough to lick the head of his cock. He let out a soft yelp, obviously not expecting the sudden jolt of pleasure. "Shit" he whispered, his hands scooping her hair back from her face as he straightened out his legs and lifted his hips. His boxers were pushed down enough to free him from them. She moaned quietly, her tongue gliding from the base of his dick to the head, following the thick vein that spanned his length. "Fuck sake. Even your cock is pretty." She said huskily, illiciting a moan from him. Her fingers wrapped around his shaft, steering the head towards her lips. He watched, entranced as she slowly swirled her tongue over the head, gathering the sticky pre-cum then retreating back into her mouth, grumbling softly with closed eyes as she tasted him. When her eyes opened and fixed on his, his cock throbbed in her hand. With her hair falling around her face, her darkened, swollen lips parted, her eyes glassy, pupils blown, she looked hungry, lowering herself back down to lick the end of his cock again. He hissed, hands gripping tighter in her hair. "I want to fuck your mouth." He panted. She groaned, dropping his cock, it smacked against his belly as he kicked off his cargo pants furiously.

Once off, she threw a leg over his hips sitting across him as her hands tangled in his hair she she caught his lips in a fierce kiss. He groaned into her mouth, he could feel the heat of her wet pussy against his shaft. It took everything he had not to adjust the angle slightly and slide into her. He wanted to desperately but he also wanted to draw the night out as much as he could. He wanted her cock drunk and helpless by the time he'd finished. He could feel her wriggling, trying to rub herself against his cock as she kissed him. He moaned, shifting his position slightly so that his cock slid between her folds, gently rocking so that the head grazed her clit. She whined, breaking the kiss, her head flopping agaisnt his shoulder as she bucked against him. "Fuck me." She whimpered. He smirked, catching her earlobe between his teeth and nibbling softly. "Uh uh" he teased, still undulating his hips to rub his shaft against her clit. "Need you to help me first." He forced her head up, nipping her bottom lip between his thumb and index finger. "Need to fuck this pretty little mouth." He grunted. She moaned, nodding. He smirked, guiding her off him. She slid off the bed, falling to her knees and opening her mouth expectantly. He scrambled over, threading his fingers through her hair as he gripped his throbbing dick and guided it past her lips. He felt her warm, wet mouth engulf him and shuddered, his head falling back, his hips beginning to move slowly, thrusting his cock in and out of her soft mouth. She placed her hands on his muscular thighs, watching his face crease in pleasure as she let him literally fuck her mouth. Her tongue slithered all over his thrusting cock, her mouth filling with saliva as the head hit the back of her throat and she tried to swallow the urge to gag. She stayed still, feeling the needy ache between her thighs grow almost out of control as he used her mouth. His hands tugged at her hair, controlling her movement, sinking his cock deeper and deeper into her throat. Her eyes started to water, gasping for air between his thrusts as he lost himself. His moans initially breathy and quiet were getting louder and higher in pitch. His slow, methodical thrusts were getting quicker, more desperate as he babbled words of praise between moans. "Fuck. So good. Just like that. Yes. Yes." She felt his thighs tense, his muscles rigid. "Fuck, gonna cum. Don't wanna stop. Don't wanna stop." He whined. She moved one hand from his thigh, cupping his balls and squeezing softly. He mewled in surprise and suddenly she felt the spurts of hot cum fill her mouth. He shuddered viciously, hands pulling her hair painfully but unable to relax his clenched fists. She continued to gently run her tongue across the head of his dick, feeling it pulse and twitch as he emptied in her throat. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." He whimpered, his grip loosening. He'd barely stopped cumming when he untangled his hands and dropped down to his knees in front of her. "Are you alright?" He asked between gasps of air. She swallowed the mouthful he'd just given her and smiled. He'd literally just cum and his first action was to check on her. "I'm fine" she whispered, pulling his head against her shoulder where he crumpled pathetically, still panting and whining softly at the aftershocks of pleasure running though him. She ran her fingers through his hair, smiling. He was sweaty and the perfectly straightened hair she'd given him was now wavy and damp.

He allowed himself a few minutes to recover, his legs shaky and his lungs burning for air as the warm, tingly satisfying feeling of his orgasm flooded through him and gently eased. He liked the calming touch of her fingers in his hair and the cool feel of her skin against his burning flesh. He felt her pressing kisses to his shoulder and smiled, lifting his head to meet her eyes. "That was....so good." He chuckled. She grinned proudly. "Sorry I didn't warn you...or pull out. I wouldn't usually just cum in your mouth without asking but...fuck, I thought I could hold on a bit longer." He smiled. She giggled, shaking her head. "It's ok. I wanted you to." She grinned. "It was really hot. I really like doing that to you." She admitted. He grinned, curling a strand of her hair around his fingers. "You can do that to me whenever the fuck you want to." He laughed. "Don't tell me that. You'll spend your entire life with your dick in my mouth." She grinned. "Sounds good to me." He shrugged. They both laughed. He stood, offering his hand to pull her up too. He kissed her, standing at the end of the bed, naked bodies pressed together as his hands wandered up and down her back. He could taste himself of her lips and though the thought of it would usually make him feel kind of weird, he just found it incredibly hot. "You taste like my cum" he whispered against her lips, tongue delving deeper into her mouth. She moaned against his lips. "Are you trying to kill me?" She breathed. He chuckled, pushing her back gently until she collided with the bed and fell backwards onto it. "Maybe" he shrugged, crawling into the bed between her legs. She gasped, shuffling backwards. "What you doing?" She muttered. He pushed her legs apart, biting his lip as he looked unabashedly at her glistening pussy. "Hungry." He grunted, dropping down onto his elbows and kissing her thigh. "You're going to kill me." She hissed, watching him kiss closer to her throbbing core. "Shhh. I'm busy." He muttered, teasingly running his tongue along the crease where her leg met her groin. Her breath caught in her throat. Just the sight of his head between her legs had her pussy contracting.

"Jungkook, I..." He stopped her, mid sentence by swiping his tongue through her folds. "Oh my god." She panted. He smirked, another long lick from hole to clit, groaning as the taste of her tingled on his tongue. "Fuck. You taste so good." He murmured. He curled his arms around her thighs, spreading her legs further so that her pussy was open and on display. A groan rattled in his throat, his teeth clamping down on his bottom lip before he leant forward and flicked his tongue against her leaking hole, feeling the ring of muscle contract wildly, trying to draw something inside. "You need a cock in you, huh?" He muttered, talking to her pussy. He flicked his tongue once more watching the muscles contract again. "I know you're needy. Just wait a little longer. I need to make her cum again and then I'm all yours. Promise." He whispered.

She watched in amazement. He was nestled comfortably between her parted legs, talking to her vagina like it was a separate entity. She knew Jungkook had a habit of talking to inanimate objects, she'd seen him apologise to chairs when he'd walked into them and ask his food if it was cool enough to eat yet but she'd never imagined in a billion years that that extended to pussy too. When he spoke to chairs, it was adorable. When he spoke to her pussy, it was mind meltingly sexy. She kind of wanted to sit there, third wheeling while he had a whole ass conversation with it. Another flick of his tongue broke her thought then as his tongue fluttered up to her clit, her mind went completely blank. He ate pussy the way he ate noodles, slurping, sucking, lips and tongue. Repeat until insane. He didn't seem to care about the sloppy sounds or lip smacking. He was a noisy eater and she fucking loved it. He dived in enthusiastically and for a woman, there was nothing sexier than a guy who ate pussy because he loved it, not because he felt he had to. He groaned happily, his tongue everywhere, lips closing around her clit, sucking and licking her most sensitive spot until he had to tighten his grip on her thighs to keep her still. Her orgasm built quickly, her hips writhing as she clawed at the sheets beneith her, legs kicking involuntarily under his vice like grip. He moaned, forcing her legs up, his hands behind her knees as he hovered over her, head moving as he made out with her clit like it was her mouth. He didn't stop as her orgasm hit, sucking and licking at her pussy until she was convulsing, her cries somewhere between pleasure and distress. "AHHHH JUNGKOOK, PLEASE" she wailed. "Want me to stop?" He panted quickly, his tongue swirling against her overly sensative clit once again. "YES. NO. I DON'T KNOW" she squealed. It felt too intense. Almost painful. But so good. Unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Her past experiences had all ended as soon as she'd cum but apparently that didn't necessarily mean the end to Jungkook. She crushed the pillow to her face, barely muffling the strangled moans escaping her. "Oh fuck. I'm gonna cum again." She cried. This pleasure was different. Sharper. Her muscles burned, being tensed for too long but unable to relax under his persistent tongue. Her mouth dropped open in a silent scream, her vision went blank, her skin felt on fire and then the raging, hot, sharp pleasure eased. Her muscles slowly unwound and she practically melted into the bed. He was beside her without her even noticing him move. Gentle kisses peppered her face and he moved her sweaty hair back. "Just breath babygirl" he cooed. "Are you alright? Too much?" He whispered. She shook her head, grabbing for his hand and clutching it as her senses returned. "Need you in me." She growled, throwing the pillow aside.

Something about her last orgasm had snapped her resolve and even though the pleasent tingles still washed through her, she couldn't think of anything other than how empty she felt. She'd been craving his cock inside her since they'd kissed against the door and that was hours ago. She couldn't stand another minute of teasing and Jungkooks cocky smirk wasn't helping her any. "Ooh. I really drove you crazy." He teased. "Remind me to do that again..." He kissed her, his tongue teasing her lips and leaving the taste of herself behind, "..and again" He nibbled her bottom lip softly, "...and again!" He whispered. She glared at him as he smiled widely, his nose crinkling. "Don't bunny smile at me." She hissed. He laughed, trailing his fingers across her stomach. "I thought you liked the duality thing. That's what you said earlier." He grinned. "I do...but can you save the bunny bit until after you've fucked me." She whined. He laughed harder. "If you wanna fuck, I'm not stopping you." He shrugged. She eyed him for a second then pushed him onto his back, throwing her leg over his hips. He hummed appreciatively, biting his lip as his eyes roamed slowly down her body, taking his hard cock in his hand and rubbing it against her pussy. "Y'know, I've just had an orgasm. My legs are still wobbly. If you were a gentleman you'd do the work." She smirked, grinding against his cock. He laughed, raising an eyebrow. "Oh is that right?"

He sat up suddenly, sending her flying backwards, she screeched and giggled, grabbing onto his arms as he flipped them so that he was on top of her. He took her hands, pinning them either side of her head. "I was letting you take control cause you said you wanted to fuck. But now..." He paused, kissing her, groaning into her mouth as his tongue slid against hers. "...I'm in control...and I don't wanna fuck. I'm gonna go nice...and slow." He grinned as she started to protest, taking his dick in his hand and rubbing the end against her hole, chuckling as her words stopped instantly. "Yeah, thought that'd shut you up." He lined up, pushing forward, his eyes fluttering as he felt the soft slick heat stretch and swallow the tip. She tried to raise her hips but he pinned them down with a smirk, kissing her softly before resting his forehead against hers. "No baby. Slowly." He breathed, pushing forward a little more. He savoured the feeling of her tight, hot pussy accepting him inch by inch until his hips were flush against hers. He exhaled heavily, his eyes closing as he pressed his lips to hers hungrily. "Wrap your legs around me" he whispered, looking into her lust filled eyes. With her hips lifted, it changed the angle allow him even deeper. "Oh fuck" she grunted, her hands clenched against his shoulders. "Too deep?" He muttered. She shook her head. She felt stretched and filled completely. He was deep enough to make her toes curl. He withdrew just as slowly, whining, his mouth falling open and his brow creasing. "Oh shit." He groaned. He'd wanted to go slow. To tease her until she couldn't stand it anymore but he was the one who gave in first. She was hot and tight and velvety soft. His stomach tightened, his hips moving faster automatically. He kissed her desperately, moans mingling together along with their tongues. Every time he started to pull out, her walls clamped around him, holding and squeezing his throbbing cock. He could barely form a thought, feverishly driving his cock into her over and over as she moaned beneath him. He could feel her getting tighter and wetter. He forced his eyes open. "Look at me" he panted. Her eyes opened, glassy and unfocused. He moaned deeply, the pleasured expression etched on his face along with the sounds he was making only pushed her closer to release. He looked and sounded so fucking sexy, the perfect drag of his thick, hot cock, so hard, so deep, she'd never felt anything like it. She felt like everything about him was designed to please. "Jungkook..." she purred, her hips rolling and bucking in rhythm with his. "Fuck. I'm so close." He moaned. She bit her lip. His golden skin gleamed as sweat began to roll down his neck and onto his chest. Her back arched, the steady thrust of his cock pounding into her driving her closer and closer. She gripped his back, her nails clenching. He felt the bite of pain and hissed, thrusting harder. "Let go baby. Let me see you come undone one more time." He growled. It was like she didn't have a choice, her body simply obeying, her orgasm shattering through her. He felt it, the hard clench of her walls followed by the rapid pulsing, milking his cock, pulling his cum from him. His steady rhythm faltered, his head dropping onto her shoulder as he fucked through the pleasure, his cum spilling deep inside her making his thrusting sloppier. He was still twitching as his arms gave out and he flopped heavily down on top of her, gasping for air, his head swimming and buzzing. He could feel her hot, ragged breath against his ear. He wanted to move off of her, check she was ok, do something but he couldn't move. He felt heavy, his mind cloudy. He just about managed to throw his leg over her hips and slither beside her, dozily pulling her into his arms as he pressed soft, breathless kisses to her forehead. "Roll" he mumbled, tapping her hip. She forced herself onto her side, grumbling contentedly as he curled up behind her, spooning her. "I think I'm gonna pass out." She whispered, giggling weakly. He chuckled, his own eyes heavy, the urge to sleep clawing

at him insistently. "Sleep. I'm not going anywhere." He muttered.

#jungkook smut #jungkook #bts #jjk #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff

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nolpat0 · 3 years

Text

something like this | s. crosby

summary: sidney has always wanted someone like her and confess as much to her

wc: 1,573

warnings: mentions of hospital/injury, one sexual innuendo

The low, metronomic beeping of the monitor keeps a steady, consistent beat to the familiar, dulcet hum of a female voice. In his drugged, cloud nine-like haze, Sidney does his best imitation of a grin, the gloriously soothing tone of her words easing him out of his concern.

"Sid?" her whisper is followed by the warm press of her fingers against the skin of his upper arm, a sweet reminder of her unwavering support. "Are you awake?"

He is; but the boy fights the grin that is sure to give him away in order to keep the easy flow of her rambles going, enjoying her vivid stories and the giggle at the end of her words as she confesses the minuscule details of her day to him. She believes him to be fast asleep, for her words to be nothing but a useless hum, and he enjoys the unexpected imtimacy of the affectionate gesture.

"I see what you're doing," she speaks again, the edge of her words exploding into the melodic tumble of her soft laughter. However, she doesn't cease her talking. "I'll just keep talking and making a fool out of myself so you can pretend you're asleep."

Sidney can't help the glimmer of love that warms his hospital blanket-clad body, a small, tender smile tugging at the edges of his full lips, revealing himself. Her fingertips trail over the carved outline of his cheekbones and brush against his hair as he finally opens his coffee-colored eyes. He gives her a earnest smile, the edges of his eyes crinkling as his dark eyes travel over her face, his full, pink lips splitting open into a wide grin to reveal shining teeth. She mumbles a soft, calming greeting and caressed his cheek a second time with the tips of her fingertips.

“So you gonna fall asleep again so I can tell you what Mat did next?” She asks, the edges of her lips curled into a playful smirk as she teases him, fingers still running agaisnt the midnight strands of his short hair in a loving manner.

Sidney can’t help the gentle, genuine laugh that rumbles from his chest, his grip on the pale blue hospital blanket loosening as he lets his palm fall flat on the curve of her knee. He nods quickly, eager to keep hearing her soft speech and tease her back, “Yes of course. My bad.”

He doesn’t catch the small smile that lights up her face because his dark lashes are already falling flat agaisnt his faintly flushed cheeks. She doesn’t waste another second launching into a detailed discription of her colleague, Mat’s experience with a particularly awkward run in with their boss. As she gently lulled him farther into the comforting clutches of sleep, Sidney tried his very best to keep his facial expressions netural but failed quite badly, which propelled her further into making him laugh. As the tall hockey player felt sleep finally take him, he felt overwhelmed with the buzzing, delicious feeling of love. He was consumed by the complete love he held in his heart for the girl still talking and running her fingers through his hair. He was too deeply in love to even think properly. And Sidney loved every minute of it.

———

Sidney couldn’t feel the light press of her palm agaisnt his as the white lab coat clad doctor filled the couple in on his prognosis and what the steps leading them forward would look like, a detailed, and frankly terrifying process that would have Sidney recovering and ready to return on the ice in a month or so. His breath was strained through his lungs, his jaw dancing with a clenched muscle as he tried to reign in his fears and desire to lace up his skates without a practical thought about the nasty consequences. Sidney just wanted to return to the locker room and resume being captain, and knew the only way to that was through the plan the doctor was currently laying out. Which scared Sidney to his bones if he was allowed to be completely honest.

“Sid,” she called, eyes watching her boyfriend closely as the hospital room door clicked closed in the wake of the doctors exit. Nerves clung to her limbs but she shook them off in order to ease Sid and his tense posture. She tried again, more forcefully. “Sidney.”

His chin dips and he finally slides his cinnamon coloured eyes to lock onto hers, trying to mask his evident fears. But she knows him far too well to skip the flicker of fear shining in his irises or the slight quiver of nerves that shook his large hands. Instinctively, her palms slide over his, fingers knitting tightly with his in a subconscious attempt to ease his shaking.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she nods, refusing to break eye contact in order to get her confidence across. She could tell he was scared, as was she, but she understood that in the end, all would work out. And they would be ok.

“I know.” Sidney tries again, blatantly deflecting.

Her lips quirk into a soft, knowing smile, her eyes flickering up distractedly as she brushes his hair back from his forehead. She smiles deeper absentmindedly, a smile that Sidney adores with all his heart. He felt a tiny fraction of his terror fading away like ice thawing in his veins.

“You don’t have to act like you’re not worried, Sid.” her eyes dropped to hold his loving gaze, her lips set in a firm line. “You don’t have to always be the strong one. That’s what I’m here for.”

A tight breath eases from his lips as his eyes close lightly, his heart settling back into its former steady pace of calm at her carefully chosen words. He was grateful, for her presence and the pressure of her fingers in his and the weight of her words. He’d never experienced a love like hers, where she loved him wholly and unconditionally, allowing him to remove all his amored layers and bravado. He revealed his true self to her and she had only kissed him passionately and grinned like he’d given her the best gift she could receive, repeating her daily mantra of how much she loved him. Sidney had never felt more loved than he did at that moment. His heart swelled fondly at the memory, the edges of his lips turning up in a doting smile.

“Thank you,” he breathed, a little unsure of what exactly he was thanking her for, but the statement was truthful.

She responded with a light, fleeting kiss pressed to his temple, her palms reaching up to softly cup the sharp curve of his jaw. He waits with baited breath, but soon relaxes fully under her loving gaze content with just staring at her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, the syllables falling softly from his chapped lips in a unintentional audible confession.

She blinks at the unguarded, genuine compliment she knows he must mean, when she’s been curled up in the uncomfortable hospital chair beside his bed for the past two days, sleepless nights smudged under her eyes and dressed in his old clothes. She feels the burn of her cheeks under his gaze and the compliment. Sidney catches the slight embarrassment and reaches out to brush his thumbs under her eyes. “You’re cute when you get flustered.”

She rolls her eyes in response, mouth curving into a mirthful grin.

“Yeah, yeah, why don’t you fall back asleep?”

Sidney reaches out and hooks his fingers the the belt loops of her jeans, pulling her closer and onto the narrow mattress, shifting his own body to accommodate hers. “Only if you sleep with me.” he replied, coffee coloured eyes gleaming with flirtatious mischief. His fingers don’t loosen their hold, instead going to grip her hips and pull her flush to his side, savouring the warmth radiating from her smaller figure now dwarfed by his size. She curls tightly to his side, fingers digging into the material of his shirt and leg falling over his as his palm cups the underside of her thigh before it gave away to her knee. She hums with a soft laughter, commenting that she’ll think about his desirous proposal, ignoring the fact they both knew she’d already complied. Sidney settled in with a long, adoration filled kiss to her hair that didn’t hold a drop of lust. He grins at the tired lilt to her voice as she mumbles softly into his thin shirt, the reverberations flowing through his chest. His fingertips smoothed over her hair as he breathed deeply, catching her familiar scent. “I love you so much.” Sidney whispered into the layers of her hair as she promptly fell asleep to the barley audible confession, meaning every syllable with his whole heart.

When her breathing has evened out, a soft almost imperceptible whistle of her breath as she falls into a deep, dream-less sleep upon his chest, fingers tightly curled in the material of his thin shirt, as if she can’t fathom letting him go, even in sleep, Sidney reveals his truest confession.

“I’ve always wanted to be loved by someone like you.” his words are hot and hit the top of her forehead before he kisses her skin. Sidney is quick to brush a stray eyelash from her cheek. “And now I have you. And I’m not letting you go.”

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larentsaloud · 3 years

Text

what if…

what if Thyme never brought his good boi ™️ attitude to dinner at Gorya’s? just imagine the chaos. Thyme walks in and dislikes the shabby furniture, spits out magic pork. family hates it and prohibit any future contact, while the dad says we should give him a chance because of the debt lol and tries to seduce Thyme and convince him to marry Gorya for financial reasons lmao. meanwhile Gorya furiously beats the shit out of Thyme and kicks him under the table and pinches his nipples. eventually he gets food positing from magic pork as punishment from universe and Gorya visits him at home and disses his lifestyle big time in front of Tia.

what if Thyme did not fall in love with Gorya at first kick? ok. so i’ve given it a thought. imagine a story line where Ren is meant to be the end game. Thyme bullies Gorya, while Ren stands up to Thyme. seems legit right? but why is your heart crying? i can hear the sadness from the other side of the internet. hold up. so Ren fights Thyme and Mira is out of the picture. Thyme continues to obsess over Gorya because it irks him that she’s made his kingdom redundant now with Ren on her side. but what if, even in this universe something happened. like Ren and Gorya go on a date, only for Ren to confess he still thinks about Mira so he will follow her to France. see where i am going with this? now with Ren is out of the picture, Thyme is bored. Hana still hasn’t shown her true colours, because let’s be honest she would never have done it unless FORCED by jealousy. so school has gone quiet. no red cards. UNTIL. with Ren away…Thyme can’t resist giving one to Gorya because she did after all kick him and his pride is hurt and he needs his power back— and…you guessed it. he falls in love on second kick. look they’re meant to be. no matter what. bold of you to assume they’d not end up together. 💀

what if Gorya never showed up by the ferris wheel on rainy day? she would have turned up at the hospital where he was admitted with pneumonia and fretted after she punched him sufficiently for not seeking shelter. Thyme used the opportunity to secure an actual date she cannot refuse since he has all the emotional blackmail on his side. the dye consists of constant fighting. Gorya manages to convince him to go to the amusement park and Thyme shoots the thingy to get plushie toys, in fact a whole cart. but surprise surprise Gorya score is higher and he is so smitten he requests a rematch asap. they hoard the plushies in a car and when he drops her at home the whole family pretends she’s not been awol the whole night and did not randomly return at dawn. apparently they had a flat tire and Gorya had to change it for him, but they got lost because Thymes sat nav broke down and they run out of batteries on their phone so slept in the car with thousand little plush toys from the amusement park for company.

what if Gorya didn’t go on zoo date because she never meowed? lord. what would we have done if our queen Kaning had not helped us out??? let’s not even go there. i refuse.

what if Ren never told Thyme that Gorya loves him? well Tia called my girl so she would’ve stopped the fight and after beating them all up and them pleading on their knees, eventually the truth would come out only to find bemused puppy thyme bouncing around, while she true to her style confines to deny it with a giant grin.

what if Gorya never tripped and fell on Thyme? get out of here you negative nancy.

what if Thyme believed the haters and never picked up Gorya at school and stopped the red card? i would have stopped watching yall. that would drive me wild. but let’s say that was the case. Thyme i think would have a mental breakdown as soon as he’d heard what they did to her and thus would rush to seek justice. i don’t know if Gorya would have forgiven him as easily as she had. i imagine he would rock up to her house with truck of flowers and plead to be absolved while the family manically plans the wedding.

what if Thyme decided to take Gorya on an actual date where you dress up and eat actual restaurant food? boi…i have a feeling we are gonna get a proper date soon and i cannot contain my excitement.

i’m tired of waiting for saturday.

#f4 thailand #what if?#f4 #thai drama #bof #boys over flowers thailand #f4 thailand :boys over flowers #thyme x gorya

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sarahjkl82-blog · 3 years

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Ok, so the little line about Marcus being sad that Nush didn’t wear his hoodie gave me thoughts...and thots.

This would definitely be further down the line, maybe they’ve already confessed their feelings to one another but they’re taking their relationship slow, so dates mostly consist of movie nights, dinners at casual places, etc. But one movie night, they fall asleep on Marcus’ couch and he wakes the next morning to Nush coming back from getting them pastries & coffee...in his hoodie. And boy does it do something to him. He’s never felt this way about someone wearing his clothes before; it makes him possessive and all he wants to do is see her in his hoodie and nothing else.

My brain goes two ways on this: heavy make out session where Marcus let’s her know just what seeing her in his clothes does (lots of dirty talk) OR full on dom!Marcus picking her up and putting her on his kitchen counter so he can get his mouth between her legs and telling her what seeing her in his clothes does to him. I can’t decide which I thot I like more!!

These two give me so many thoughts and thots...it might be a slight problem

Please note that this work is not suitable for those under 18. Themes of consensual sex and swearing.

Beta thanks to @yespolkadotkitty ❤️❤️❤️

You think you are possessing me but I’ve got my teeth in you.

Angela Carter

What could be more coincidental than pouring rain greeting the pair of you as you leave the Prince Charles Cinema’s matinee of Singing in the Rain? The deluge that pours onto the street below invites a bloom of colourful umbrellas twisting and turning through the Soho streets- umbrellas that neither of you had thought to bring despite it being April in London. Enjoying the last few moments of relative warmth and dryness, your eyes flicker between a deep-in-thought Marcus, and the puddles outside those black rimmed glass doors that lie in wait for the pair of you.

“You are thinking very loudly, Mr Pike,” you remark shaking your head as a wave of consternation washes across his face, “Don’t you dare think about where the nearest shop is to buy an umbrella. It’s barely a ten minute walk to Charing Cross from here.”

Marcus releases a small chuckle as he shuffles his feet embarrassedly, his eyes shifting sideways, “How did you know I was thinking that?”

“At work, when you are questioning people- you’re entirely closed off which you need to be in for our profession but as soon as you go into hometime Marcus, your thoughts and emotions are painted across your face as clear as words on a page.”

A shy boyish grin creeps across his face, “Ok, I am a bit of an open book but you have the ability to read me better than anyone else,” he reluctantly owns, “I kinda wish I was a better liar and could come up with something else on the spot.”

Grabbing his hand tightly, you give it a small squeeze and a tug to let him know that he never needs to lie to you- a gesture that Marcus returns with a gentle kiss upon your forehead. “Come on you, let’s go run between the raindrops and head back South of the river before anyone notices that we came without our passports.” Your eyes sparkle wickedly at him as you raise your finger to your lips pretending to drag him into the silly North/South London divide.

“Still tickled by your version of the redneck, iced tea, Southern manners versus skyscrapers, yellow cabs and cold winters”,” he shakes his head slightly.

“My love, there is a lot you don’t get in regards to Britishisms- you still giggle like a teenage boy whenever I mention the word knickers,” you kindly reprimand him, “You’ve not even been here two months yet, give yourself time to realise that our version of pancakes are better than yours!”

You hear a sharp gasp emanating from Marcus in mock hurt as you blaspheme over his favourite food group. Cocking your eyebrow at him, you pause for a moment as you step towards the double doors that lead into roads where the coloured lights bleed across their oily surfaces. Marcus reaches around you to open the door, “I got you. Not letting you walk into doors today.”

It seems as if the moment that the two of you step outside, the heavens truly decide to open upon you, drenching through every layer of clothing right to your bones. Running through the winding streets with your hands tightly wound together, you and Marcus dodge in and out of the sprawling crowds of tourists with their leisurely pace and humongous golf umbrellas. When you are faced with a particularly large group, you split apart with Marcus diving towards a shop but you go too close to the curb when a taxi drives through a massive puddle, sending an icy tsunami over your head.

You stand there and gasp as the water constricts every blood vessel in your body, the shock coursing through your veins. Blinking the water from your eyelashes, you become aware of two hands bringing warmth back to your cheeks and two brown orbs gazing at you, “Hey, you ok?” Marcus scans your face, worriedly checking you over as he slides his worn leather jacket over your shoulders to try to bring some warmth back into your body.

Brimming with tears of mirth, your eyes crease into tiny crescents until the smile tugging at your lips forms the biggest grin as your whole body roars with laughter, “I don’t think there’s much point in trying to run between the raindrops anymore,” you gasp out between the giggles.

When you notice that Marcus isn’t laughing, you pause to draw a deeper breath, searching his face for clues. Your heart beats faster and faster as you notice that his eyes are black holes, pulling you towards him until gravity and time cease to exist. Heat rises through the chill of your skin- from your stomach to your throat- as his lips call to yours. When the sensitive skin meets, there isn’t a moment of hesitation to drink each other in as the taste of Marcus silences all of your thoughts.

All of your kisses to this point had been the tentative kisses of a new relationship. The kisses of two broken hearts starting to mend and learning how to allow yourselves to love again.

But this. This. This was different.

Marcus withdraws his mouth slightly from you, resting his forehead against yours as his breath dances across your lips, “Wow.”

And then he’s back. Fingers tangled in your hair, lungs forgetting to breathe as without a moment’s hesitation he deepens the kiss, parting your lips and searching for the soft sweetness brought by your tongue. As the moment swiftly intensifies, your hands seek him out as the only solid thing in the swaying world around you. Your fingers seek out the warmth of his skin beneath his drenched Henley. You feel him. All of him presses against you so that you can inhale the woody scent of his aftershave, the citrus notes of his shampoo and that smell that is just so utterly Marcus.

“So beautiful,” he whispers against your now swollen lips. His words ground you, placing a solid surface beneath your feet before he sweeps you away again.

The kisses eventually slow, becoming infinitely more tender than the raw need that pulses between you both. You are breathless, dazed and needing so much more. Your body aches for more than the Soho streets can offer you, confident in the knowledge that Marcus feels the same as you feel his powerful body tremble like yours. All that exists in this moment is feeling, wanting and needing each other.

A half growl, half moan comes from the back of Marcus’ throat as he finally breaks the kiss, “I have to get you home before I take you right here.”

Heart still racing, you just about manage to form words but your lust-filled brain mangles them making you feel drunk and slurred, “Whose home?”

“Mine. S’closer,” he murmurs into your mouth, “Don’t wanna be arrested for acts of indecency. Right now, everything I wanna do to you, falls into that category.”

It takes all you can muster, hearing that admission spill from his lips. All the willpower in the world, not to just find a darkened doorway and just take him there.

His fingers find yours again, peeling your hands away from the soft skin under his t-shirt- intertwining in undoable knots- but your bodies still press together as if you cannot bear to separate yet. You both take a moment to catch your breath, the rain still falling upon you in some heavenly benediction- mouths twitching into grins as your breathing relaxes and slows to a pace that allows for thoughts to re-enter your mind.

Marcus is the one to break the bodily contact, turning to one side, dropping one of your hands to start walking towards the station. You catch a slightly confused look on his face, “Not sure where the station is, are you? Come on, I’ll let you take the lead when you know where you are a bit better,” you snigger with a saucy wink in his direction.

As you go to walk away from him, he pulls you in closer and rumbles deeply in your ear, “You know I don’t have a problem with you taking the lead.”

The tone of his voice echoes through your skin, setting fireworks off through every synapse in your body and oh how it gladdens you to realise that he needs you as much as you want him.

✪✪✪✪✪

The journey home has been one of not daring to look at or touch each other too much. Sitting next to him on the train, your thighs leaning into each other, you both desperately try to focus on messing around with your phones. Him showing you various forthcoming art exhibitions in town and you showing him silly TikToks sent by your nieces and nephews of dogs being dubbed with computerised voices, giving their thoughts on cats and other dog breeds. Anything to take your minds off what you’d actually like to do with each other.

As the train pulls into the station, you pull him up from his seat and head towards the exit. Tapping out at the ticket barrier, you turn towards Marcus, going up on tiptoes to place a small chaste kiss upon his lips, “I’m popping to Sainsburys to grab some wine as I think we finished that bottle on Wednesday, didn’t we? Do you need anything else while I’m there?”

“Sweetheart, I can’t let you do that,” Marcus tries pleading with you.

“I cannot get any wetter than I am at this moment in time,” you implore before pausing as Marcus raises his eyebrows at you, licking his lower lip, stepping closer to close the minutismal space between yourselves.

“Quit making me stand in the rain, thinking impure thoughts,” he groans.

You push the heel of your hand into his chest, “Then go upstairs, run me a bath and find something dry for me to put on, then you can have your wicked way with me.”

Putting his hands on your hips and dipping his head to playfully nip at your neck, Marcus gives in as his lips mutter into your skin, “Ok, be quick. I’ll order some pizza and ice cream ready for you getting out of the bath.”

Your eyes roll back in your head and you release a satisfied groan at the thought of a warm bath and pizza. Especially that beauty of a bath in Marcus’ apartment where you can actually stretch out and entirely submerge yourself beneath the hot soapy water. You remove Marcus’s hands from your sides and turn towards the small store with its bright fluorescent lights blaring out at you through the plate glass storefront. As you go to step inside, you turn your head and see that Marcus has turned at the same time with that look in his eyes again. With a small wave and a grin, you step inside to find snacks and wine, not entirely sure that they would be necessary this evening.

✪✪✪✪✪

Bottles clink and packets of Haribo rustle from within your bags as you walk up to Marcus’ front door. You give the bottom section of wood a small thud from your boot, to which it opens with a significantly dryer Marcus, who takes the bags from you before ushering you in. As the warmth of his flat encircles you, you release a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.

“Strip,” his firm, familiar baritone commands, holding an arm out for your soaking clothes, “Your bath is run and I’ve left you some clothes on my bed. You’d left a pair of panties from the last time you stayed over- I’ve washed those so they’re in the pile too.”

Peeling back the layers of clothing that had been so utterly useless against the torrential rain and draping them over Marcus’ arms- tiny droplets dripping onto his hardwood flooring, you soon stand there completely naked. Tossing your clothes in the general direction of his washing machine, he gently guides you with his warm hand placed in the small of your back towards the bath, which true to his word, is full, bubbly and welcoming.

As you step in, you look over towards Marcus inviting him in with your eyes.

With a small shake of his head, Marcus turns to leave you to soak. The quietude envelops you, so much that you are barely able to hear Marcus padding softly around outside this sanctuary. You lie back allowing the water to cover your ears- a complete sensory deprivation when your eyes draw shut too. Images that swirl with the heavenly taste and scent of Marcus, his velvet touch and the sound of his voice dance behind your closed lids as you allow the water to wash away London pollution and puddle water.

✪✪✪✪✪

Having reheated your body enough, the bath water turning tepid, you clamber out onto the deliciously soft bath mat that you know Andy picked out prior to Marcus’ arrival. Wrapping one of the towels Marcus has left out for you around your body and the other around your hair, you walk into his impeccably neat bedroom. Bed made, clothes ironed, folded and put away- the polar opposite of yours. Even the pile of clothes with your knickers on top, is neat.

The morning after the night when Marcus had first stayed over at yours and needed an iron for his shirt, you’d barely been able to locate in your memory where you’d last seen it- pointing him in the direction of the cupboard of doom- the place where half-baked ideas and good intentions go to die.. Everything is generally haphazard and a little topsy-turvy about you but Marcus, his sense of order calms your busy brain and you are noticing it rub off on you.

You hang your coat up on the hooks that you’d drilled in when you’d first bought your flat but never used until a month ago. You only now have one hanging chair, rather than utilising every surface available. You also attempt to only buy one bagged salad each week instead of pretending that you will eat more greens but then them definitely losing that green tone, fading into a brown slush before you remember their existence in that pathetic salad drawer.

Pulling up your knickers and sitting, no- sinking into the glorious mattress of Marcus’ bed, you haul the t-shirt over your head and shrug your arms into the sleeves of the hoodie before zipping it up at the front. You smile at a flicker of a memory where Jasper had moaned at you for stretching out his hoodies with your woman boobs. You also find it very sweet that Marcus honestly thinks that his shorts will fit over your thighs and hips so you leave them on the bed, choosing to leave the room in just the hoodie, t-shirt and underwear- albeit just on your bottom half as your bra was utterly soaked too and was probably going through his washing machine. That poor underwire! Nevermind, perhaps it’s time for something a little less utilitarian and a little more sexy.

Softly padding out from his bedroom, you spy Marcus’ broad back twisting in the kitchen as he seeks out plates and glasses in the cupboards. Pizza boxes lie on the side, their contents sweating condensation on the table below.

“I’m finally decent,” you declare with a flourish as you bounce into the kitchen, almost bounding directly into his chest.

Marcus spins at the sound of your voice, making sure to catch and steady you after your clumsy entrance, “No. You are very wrong there,” his breath hitching as he rumbles deeply into the shell of your ear, “No way. You could never be classified as decent, not looking like this.”

Another step and a slight twist of your body, and Marcus has your hips pinned against the cupboard. He places his hands either side of you, trapping you between the carpentry and the solid wall of him, his dark eyes flashing with lust as you feel him memorising every detail of you.

“Talk to me, Marcus,” you ask of him, running your fingers through his dark curls, “Tell me what’s going on.”

“You sure you wanna know?” he questions, stroking his fingers down the side of you, the sensation causing you to twitch under its tenderness.

“I want you to tell me everything,” you demand unblinkingly. Desperate for Marcus to finally tell you what he wants rather than constantly looking to please and pleasure you.

“Ok,” You see Marcus nod, his bottom lip slightly trembling, “It takes a superhuman feat of strength not to call you into my office everyday and fucking rail you right there into my desk, in front of everyone.”

Holy fuck, Marcus. Let it go.

“Monday, when we were working late and you grabbed my jacket to throw over your shoulders? Seeing how the shoulders swamped yours, there was... There was just this moment when I wanted to run my hands up that skirt, rip your panties off, slide into you and bite your neck, leaving marks for everyone to know you’re mine. I just wanted to possess every part of you and all because of you wearing something that’s mine.

“When we’re walking around galleries or sitting in cinemas together, it is all I can do to not find a cupboard to push you into or take advantage of the lowlights.I just want you to be mine all the time. I want to be surrounded by your scent- your hair, your perfume and your cunt - they’re this drug that I can’t get enough of. When you wear my clothes, they smell of you - makes me want to possess every part of you. I need all of you to belong to me.”

Your heart thuds in your chest as you allow Marcus’ primal growl to fill you with a searing heat that burns through the very depths of you.

“And now. Right now? Seeing you now in my hoodie and just your panties is so fucking tempting- so don’t you dare give me that comment that you are decent now.”

His hands finally move from their position on the counter to your hips as he lifts you, your legs wrapping around his waist unconsciously. The pizza unceremoniously gets dumped onto the floor as he settles you onto the cool work surface, pulling your hips slightly towards him. Unlocking your calves from around his waist, he pushes your thighs a little further apart, thumbs brushing upon the sensitive skin as he lowers his face so that you can feel his hot breath through the material of your knickers.

He withdraws slightly, pressing his lips in sweet kisses along the inside of your thighs whilst his teeth graze and nip at you, setting off a string of fireworks in your skin.

“Right now, I want to inhale you. I need to have your scent filling my lungs.”

His nose nuzzles into your lightly clothed slit searching out your sweet heady scent, brushing the damp material back and forth over your sensitive clit making it throb in anticipation. The sensations brought from his nose causes your core to pool around him, the small nudges sending your pulse racing through the roof.

Very few thoughts are able to exist in your mind other than the way you desperately want to wrap your legs back around him- this time around his head to lock him in place and keep his face glued to your pussy, stopping him from continuing this tantalising teasing.

“Now? Now, I want to taste you. I want drink that sweet fucking nectar from right here.”

Dipping his head lower, he licks teasingly at the aperture of your cunt, stiffening his tongue slightly to press the material between your folds. Your breath catches in your throat wanting to scream at his slow pace. You hook your thumbs into the elastic of your knickers at your hips, trying to awkwardly shuffle them off.

Abruptly, he stops. Pulling away from you, moving your hands away from trying to remove your underwear, “No,” he growls, “Leave them on.”

“Do you wanna know why I didn’t sneak those panties back to you at work or any of the other nights I’ve seen you this week?” He raises an eyebrow at you from his crouched position between your legs as you nod helplessly, your heart pounding in your throat, “I’ve been smelling them, thinking of your hot cunt as I rub my cock in the few moments we’re apart.”

Leaning forward, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your bottom and kissing you hard through your knickers, he exclaims joyously, “Ah, honey, I fucking love your smell and taste! Sometimes, I can still smell your juices on my fingers at work and it makes my cock fucking throb, knowing that you are only two steps away from me. Professionalism with you so close is impossible.”

Your pussy throbs and yearns for a consistent touch as he returns his face to between your legs. Resting his forehead against your pubic bone, he returns to burying his nose into the dampest point of the thin fabric. This time, as he drags it upwards, he pulls his tongue stiffly upwards until he reaches that sensitive nub of nerves, catching it between his teeth gently tugging it.

You swear that every nerve in your body is on fire and nothing exists except you and Marcus. No one has made your body sing like this in its neediness. The rush of wild sensations sweeping across your body are equally thrilling and maddening you.

Teasing the material to one side of your pussy lips, you watch a smile unfold across Marcus’ face as he gazes upon you.

Never have you felt so wanted before.

Then with the same joyous abandon he has shown in kissing your pussy, he throws your thighs over his shoulders before sinking his mouth onto the sweet, bare flesh. The way that his tongue flickers so gracefully across your clit leaves you gasping. That familiar knot of pleasure building deep inside your tummy as he edges ever lower, preparing to tongue fuck you. Licking deeper and deeper into your cunt, you can hear the pleasure spilling from within you onto his tongue and oh how he drinks like a man dying of thirst.

You cry out in surprise as Marcus encircles his lips around your clit, sucking rhythmically and gently. The scruff of his beard tickling pleasingly the sensitive flesh as he works you towards your release. A guttural groan against your delicate skin is the point that sends you truly spinning over the precipice into pleasure, howling his name into the night air as your thighs tightly clasp him around his ears, his tongue still working you through that blissful high until your body drops every ounce of tension, relaxing into the afterglow.

When he moves back into softly kissing your thighs, you tug his glistening face towards you with barely a moment of hesitation passing between the two of you. Your lips meet again with the tenderness of an artist’s brushstrokes, Marcus painting the taste of you into your mouth with exquisitely delicious kisses.

He brings his forehead back to rest against yours again, with a total calmness drifting across his features. You shut your eyes and rest with him, safe. From his lust drenched words to the experienced motions of his tongue, you utterly resign yourself to the truth.

You have always belonged with Marcus.

You always will.

@yespolkadotkitty @astroboots @danniburgh @disgruntledspacedad @green-socks @zukoyonce @sirowsky @bison-writes @tardisfangurl @agirllovespancakes @leonieb @mrsparknuts @absurdthirst @pedropascalito @lunaserenade @mouthymandalorian @the-ginger-hedge-witch @theravenreads @lv7867 @songsformonkeys

#the mentalist #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #josé pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal edit #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #thanks for the ask!#send me asks

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m3kuroshirt · 3 years

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Gay Thoughts; Head Full

A short GrimmIchi coffee-shop au based on prompt number 11: bookmark, from the September Prompt list by @creativepromptsforwriting

Word count: 1427

Warnings: mild language

He’d seen him a hundred times, and every time was different; the orange-haired man with brown eyes as warm as the embers of a dying fire. He had a gentle look to him, hair cut short and a tiredness in his gaze that only came from experiences better left unsaid. Grimmjow would know; he’d seen that same tiredness in his own eyes. But that was before. He was in a better place now.

Despite seeing the man so often (he came to the little coffee shop every Tuesday to read), Grimmjow couldn’t help but stare at him each time, sneaking glances in between filling orders. The man always ordered the same thing; a cup of Earl Grey and a chocolate muffin. Everyone behind the counter was aware of his infatuation at this point, and they all seemed to conveniently ‘disappear’ when the orange-haired customer was due to arrive, leaving Grimmjow to be the one to serve him. As a result, he’d memorized the man’s order quickly, and would start to make it without even thinking the minute he came up to the counter. The first time it happened, the man had been surprised. But then, then… then he gave the sweetest smile. It was like watching the sun rise or a flower bloom; slow, gentle, beautiful. Grimmjow almost dropped dead then and there. But he held it together. Barely.

Seeing the man come in so often, Grimmjow knew a handful of constants. The man always looked a little worn and tired, as if he’d had a really long day and needed to rest. Why he would choose a coffee shop to read in for that purpose baffled Grimmjow. The place was a mess of noisy, whiny customers, overly-pretentious teens, grumpy middle-aged women, men telling jokes much too loudly, and elderly couples shouting at each other across the table as their hearing was so bad they could barely hear themselves let alone the other person.

The next thing Grimmjow noticed was his outfits. The man always wore some sort of neutral-coloured long-sleeved t-shirt with a pair of jeans. He looked down-right cozy. With his book, sitting at the table, cup of tea in front of him, he was the picture-perfect poster-boy for cafés everywhere.

The third thing Grimmjow noticed was actually an inconsistent consistency. The man always had a book with him. But it was never the same one two weeks in a row. Various titles and covers passed before Grimmjow’s eyes, some he could read, others clearly in a different language. Some bright and vibrant, others darker. Some clearly brand new, some clearly well-used.

The final thing Grimmjow noted about the handsome customer was the bookmark. Regardless the book, it was always the same one. It was thick, clearly made of leather and painted a vibrant red. Detailing on the bookmark was painted in gold. The edges of the bookmark were worn, clearly it was not new, and it was definitely well-used. The man would hold it as he read, twiddling it with his fingers when he concentrated, tapping it against the table when he was at a particularly interesting part, eyes wide and focused. Sometimes, when he looked as though he was reading a really though-provoking chapter, he would brush it against his lips absentmindedly. Grimmjow’s eyes always followed the bookmark when he did this, and always lingered on his lips. Most days, they looked soft, gentle, kissable. Sometimes they were chapped, and once swollen, as if he’d been…kissed…Grimmjow couldn’t describe the weird feeling that had settled in his chest that day. He’d been relieved the man hadn’t come in looking like that again.

Grimmjow didn’t realize he’d been zoned out until a voice called to him. “Um, excuse me?” it was a pleasant voice, deep and rich, with a gentle politeness.

“Hmm?” Grimmjow blinked and focused back on reality. Only to find the orange-haired stranger standing right in front of him. The stranger looked…worried.

“Are you alright?” he asked. Grimmjow blinked again.

“Uhh,” he uttered so intelligently.

The stranger’s cheeks went pink. Grimmjow found that was a rather nice colour on him. “I just…well, initially I came over because I thought you were staring at me…but then you didn’t move at all and I got worried,” he admitted, eyes fixed firmly on the countertop. “I thought maybe you were unwell.”

Grimmjow didn’t have a filter in the best of times. And now was not the best of times. “I was.”

The stranger looked up sharply. “You’re unwell?” Concern tainted his tone and Grimmjow winced. He couldn’t think, so caught up in assuaging the worries of the man before him.

“No. I was staring at you.” Ah. Yes. Good job me. He won’t think that’s fucking weird at all.

The stranger narrowed his eyes. “Staring at me. Why?” he asked abruptly. Ok, maybe it’s not abrupt of him if I was the one to say I was staring in the first place, Grimmjow amended inwardly. The intensity of the stranger’s discerning stare wasn’t something he was used to having directed at him. His eyes weren’t warm now, but sharp, calculating, shining with a brightness that should have scared Grimmjow, but instead thrilled him.

Realizing the stranger was waiting for an answer, and that he had once again been caught staring, Grimmjow did what he did best in these situations. And that was to be the worst at communication and tact. “Because you’re really handsome.”

There was a pause after the words left his mouth.

“What?”

“What?” Grimmjow couldn’t help but echo the man’s own question. The stranger in front of him met his gaze with wide eyes, cheeks turning redder by the second. And Grimmjow could feel his own face on fire. “Uh. Have to go. Break time. Bye.” And he turned around and strode as quickly as possible to the staff room.

Grimmjow slammed the door to the staff room shut behind him, startling Nel and Ulquiorra. Nel opened her mouth, but Grimmjow cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Don’t. Do not. Ok? I am a fucking idiot. Let me mope.” He sat at the table and put his head in his hands. “Fuuuuuck. I’m so stupid.” An awkward silence descended on the table. He heard the rustle of pages as Ulquiorra returned to his book. Somehow, reading was less attractive when his gloomy co-worker did it. He could hear Nel fidget, could sense her knee bouncing up and down, as it often did when she was trying not to speak but really wanted to. He did his best to ignore her.

The door burst open again, but Grimmjow didn’t look up. “Grimmjow.” He recognized that low melodic voice, smooth and sweet.

“Go away, Hallibel,” he muttered.

“Get up, it’s not your break time yet,” she replied. Grimmjow found himself bristling. She may be his manager, but he was so not in the mood to be bossed around.

“Can’t you just leave me alone and let me suffer?” he muttered, dragging himself up from the table with a glare. Hallibel rolled her eyes. She held out a white napkin to him.

“Here, take this and put it away before you go back out,” she ordered. Grimmjow glared at the napkin.

“I don’t want your trash.”

Hallibel sighed in exasperation and grabbed his hand. She shoved the napkin in it. “Just look at it.”

Grimmjow rolled his eyes, but he did look at it. The napkin had writing on it. A set of numbers. Specifically, a set of numbers that look suspiciously like a phone number. With a name underneath. Ichigo. He frowned. “This is…”

“Mr. Book-nerd gave it to me. Said to tell you he ‘thinks the same about you’. Then he rushed out the door like the place was on fire,” Hallibel explained briefly. Grimmjow’s eyes widened. He looked up at Hallibel. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Nel perk up and Ulquiorra doing a not-so-good job at pretending to read. He ignored them.

“He said…he really said that?”

“Yeah.” Hallibel folded her arms. “Now, put that somewhere safe and get back out there. It’s not your break time yet.” Grimmjow grinned.

“Fuck yeah!” he shouted as he turned to stuff the phone number in his bag.

“Language,” Hallibel reprimanded him.

“Aw, leave me alone Hal, this is the best day ever! Let me live a little,” Grimmjow replied with a smug grin as he brushed past her to leave the staff room. Hallibel sighed and fondly shook her head as she watched him exit the room.

#grimmichi #jaegerjaquez grimmjow #kurosaki ichigo #m34gswrites #fluff #grimmichi au #idiots in love

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watanabes-cum-dump · 3 years

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Rating Genshin character designs pt.1

I am by no means a professional character designer, hell I’m not even a professional artist (I’m self taught) but I just really wanna do this become Genshin Impact is home to some of my favourite character designs and some that I fucking hate. So let’s get into them

Jean

I fucking hate it

Don’t get me wrong, I love Jean, she carries my fucking team and I’ve maxed out my friendship with her. She’s a great character and has a great presence in the story, I can see why a lot of characters respect her, and I really hope to see more of her.

But what the fuck is this design???

Basic blonde bitch face, I don’t even fucking know what’s going on with her outfit. I just really really really REALLY hate her tights. I don’t know why, but I have a vendetta against tights. Maybe it’s because I grew up in BC where girls consider tights to be fashionable, but I fucking hate tights. White tights especially since more often than not they’re transparent.

I don’t know what it is, but I just don’t vibe with the colour scheme, ya feel me? There’s a rule with character design that I learned, which is have one main colour, and then have a secondary colour, and then have other colours that support those two colours. Jean is like... I can’t tell is her main colour is white or blue. The colour placement is sort of all over the place.

Jean is just basic and it just doesn’t stand out when you compare her to the other characters. I just feel like she should look better than this, she’s the acting grandmaster of the knights for crying out loud, and yet she looks like a generic background character.

She looks like Saber from the Fate series, I feel like she’s just so plain and there wasn’t really anything put into her design. Her in game model looks a bit better but it’s still kinda ‘meh.’

Like what does this outfit tell you about the character? Nothing! She doesn’t look like a powerful figure, you can’t tell she’s gentle and graceful, it doesn’t tell you that she’s a leader or tells you about how she carries herself. All her design says is “Hi I’m disposable blonde with a sword no. 235″

With all of the negatives, I do have to say that her design does a good job of directing you to look at her face. The colar and the way her hair frames her face is great but then again, her face isn’t much to look at.

Kaeya

Ok, we have so much to unpack here because I LOVE Kaeya’s design

I mean look at him! Right away you can tell what he’s like! He screams shady, flirty, and eccentric!

One qualm I do have is that he looks more like a pirate than a knight, with the fur, buckles, and details, but I guess that’s fine. At least he doesn’t look basic or forgettable. And the design is a bit confusing but even then it still tells you a lot about him.

The colour placement is smart and he looks very cohesive and put together, nothing looks out of place. Kaeya’s tanned skin contrasts the cooler values perfectly and I’m honestly sad that we don’t get to see him too much.

It’s really a shame Kaeya isn’t more important and that Mihoyo doesn’t promote him the way they do the other characters (Noelle, Diluc, Zhongli, Xiangling and Fischl) He’s even overlooked by the community which is kind of sad.

Real talk though he kind of reminds me of Sinbad from Magi. Maybe not the same level of himbo energy, but the whole shady, manipulative, womanizer that pretends to be good thing is there.

But yeah, Kaeya’s design is great and I love him so much plz give him more screen time-

Albedo

They really did my boy dirty. Seriously, he looks so fucking fine in all of his art, but then you have his in game model and he looks all greasy and weird. Someone said that Albedo with the adult male model would have worked better and honestly I agree.

But anyways! Let’s talk design!

Albedo’s colour scheme is simple but works well together, he very much looks like someone who works in a lab with his long white coat, but other than that he looks like a swordsman. It works really well for him since he is a captain in the knights of favonious as well as an alchemist.

That’s all well and good, it tells you his occupation but it doesn’t really tell you about his personality. Like if I were to show you this guy without any context, you’d assume he’s kind and gentle soul. Which is kind of true (depends on who he’s interacting with) but we know Albedo to be analytical and sort of brisk and cold. Not cruel by any means, but he’s not very nice and gentle either.

Overall very nice, I like it a lot, I really wanna have a coat like that, 7/10 solid design.

Diluc

It’s... it’s kinda meh. Is he hot? Absolutely he’s smoldering, but I just... I don’t know. You can tell that he’s rich and all of that since he’s sort of wearing a suit, but that’s it. I also really hate that they didn’t give him coattails, I think coattails would have carried this rich untouchable vibe better. The weird fur is just kind of tacky.

I feel like giving his outfit more red would help him immensely, I’m not digging the white, it’s just there. For no reason. I guess it helps to break up all the black, but giving him a red vest would have easily done the same thing while staying true to him. He has red on his gloves, why not put a bit more on his body?

I guess my point is more red accents would do him good. Diluc is recognizable, but it’s mostly thanks to his hair. If I gave him a different outfit with the same colours it wouldn’t really change much. He lacks things like like Kaeya’s details or Albedo’s coat that make him really memorable. You could have a character who looks different, but I think to be truly memorable it’s gotta sell the character and suit them.

Overall, his design is sort of overrated in my opinion.

Ningguang

Ok ok queen alert I love her so much. Ningguang doesn’t just look hot her design sells her so well I love her.

You can tell that she’s ruch, elegant, and powerful. The white, gold and black just go so well together and the way it’s placed is just aaaaahhhhh she’s so pretty what the hell. I strive to make a character that looks this good.

I just have no idea what’s going on with her shorts. That’s like my only complaint. Just give her regular booty shorts? Like Beidou’s? You don’t need the diamonds, if you wanted them you could make it like a pattern.

But other than that she really looks like she rules a country. She’s just so pretty omg.

Design aside, Ningguang deserved to be a five star, she’s so strong like there’s a guy who’s Ningguang can so 29k per crystal with her ult. Ningguang has such a strong presence within the game compared to Kequing and Ganyu who are just sort of there. Ningguang is one of the few characters who get a 10/10 in performance, design, and character wise. I love her.

Beidou

Another queen. I am so whipped for Beidou and Ningguang guys it’s not even funny-

Anyways I love Beidou so much, I love her dress her colour scheme, she’s just so cool. The black and red is consistent and well placed unlike SOME OTHER CHARACTER.

You can tell that she’s a pirate, that she’s a strong warrior and idk why but she just screams laid back lesbian aunt. Those are the vibes I get from her. I love her. You can’t tell in this image, but she has anchors on the back of her gloves and it’s a really nice touch that adds to her as a pirate.

The hairstyle, her outfit, the eye patch, Beidou is just iconic and so easy to recognize. I remember not knowing anything about Genshin impact but I saw some advertisements for it and Beidou’s design really stuck with me because I recognized her when I got her.

Another one of the few who get a 10/10 in all aspects. Love her, and I can’t wait to set sail for Inazuma with her.

#I like how for the guys I'm actually talking about their designs but with the girls I'm simping #stay in school kids #kouryuu's shit #beidou #beidou genshin impact #kaeya #kaeya genshin impact #ningguang #ningguang genshin impact #diluc #diluc genshin impact #jean #jean genshin impact #albedo #albedo genshin impact

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tepkunset · 4 years

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@avatarfandompolice is a blog that likes to misuse progressive language in attempt to make ignorant, racist posts sound more intelligent than they are. While most of their blog consists of arguing about ‘zutara,’ (which I recently learned is a ship name for Zuko and Katara from an anon), there is also a large number of posts and reblogs under the premise of being “hot takes” on how unfair it is to address racism in fandom and in media.

Avatarfandompolice is very sensitive about people pointing out that Avatar: The Last Airbender is not, in fact, flawless. That a show made by two white men featuring Asian and Indigenous characters and influences is fully capable of getting things wrong. That their western colonial views are influences all on their own, and it shows. Rather than listen to fans of colour point out things like these posts for example: [Link] [Link] [Link], avatarfandompolice has decided that such things must simply be fake, and has made multiple posts complaining it. This is not just regular ignorance, this is wilful ignorance. The dismissal of critique simply because they cannot fathom not everyone being able to handle the amount of issues they are freely educating others on, or people holding the ability to like something overall while also pointing out where it could be better.

It is my firm belief that you should never absorb media with an uncritical eye. If this was the case, if people just accepted everything given to them, then we would never see any progress. We need to be able to look back at something and say here’s what we did right, and here’s what we need to do better with.

The argument that A:TLA was made in 2012 and therefore should not be analyzed with a modern understanding of the world is downright hilarious, too. As if we aren’t taught to write literature analysis on books and plays that are centuries old in school. In particular regards to the whole cop thing... if anyone reading this seriously thinks that hate and fear of the police is just a 2020 trend, you can meet me in the pit. I was four years old when I learned how terrifying cops are. If your experiences differ, let me tell you that does not make them universal. And as for all the 20-somethings talking about it today, well, gentle reminder that as said by avatarfandompolice right here, the show aired in 2012. Little 10-year-old kids don’t have social media, (at least I hope they don’t,) and unless they grew up experiencing first-hand police terror, probably were not aware of it at that age. I do not know why avatarfandompolice insults people's ability to grow and learn. I can only guess it’s jealously from their lack of ability to do so.

Now let’s address their defences of whitewashing, which is easily the most backwards reaching I’ve seen on this issue in a while. Primarily their defence relies on four repetitive “points” —

Fake minuscule percentages to downplay the high prevalence and extremity of whitewashing in the fandom

Deflecting the addressing of whitewashing with rapid-fire fake scenarios and claims of “reverse racism” / “blackwashing”

Claiming whitewashing isn’t real because people only care about it with Katara

Claiming that calling out whitewashing in fandom is wrong because it hurts artists

I have only so much as dipped my toes into the A:TLA fandom, and even I have seen a lot of whitewashed fan art. If you do an image search for fan art, I guarantee within the first couple rows of results, there will be in the absolute least, a few examples. The idea of these artworks not substantially lightening skin is also just plain inaccurate. Just from a quick Google search, this is literally the first result for ‘Avatar The Last Airbender Katara fan art’:

Avatarfandompolice is also hyper-focused on the lightening of skin, and seems to be under the impression that this is the only component of whitewashing. I come to this conclusion because when someone pointed out the equal prevalence of depicting these characters of colour with Western European features instead of their actual eyes, noses, etc., they rip a giant turd out of their ass and scrawl the words “but stereotyping” over it. No, not all Asian peoples and Indigenous peoples look the same. The original poster made no such claim of this at all. Avatarfandompolice jumped to this conclusion all on their own... (which really says a lot in itself). It is entirely unrelated to the point. The point being the erasure of how these characters look, in favour of giving them whiter features. And guess what? This does hurt. But I’ll get to that below.

The lack of understanding of whitewashing is on full display when avatarfandompolice talks about “blackwashing”; the idea that colouring characters with darker skin is just like whitewashing. Firstly, there is no such thing as “blackwashing.” “Blackwashing,” “brownwashing,” etc. does not exist because it is a false equivalency to whitewashing. It is a false equivalency to whitewashing because white people are not even in the slightest loosing representation when a white character is re-imagined as a racial minority, whereas when racial minorities are re-imagined as white people, they are taking away from what is already very little representation for us. If we lived in a world where the statistics of representation were not so drastically disproportionate, then there would be something to talk about. But if you are really wanting to support equality, you should focus on equitably supporting those who actually need it, not white people. As for specifically depicting characters like Sokka and Katara with darker skin than what they have in the show, the same applies, (so long as it’s not racebending them as we really shouldn’t be taking representation away from each other, and the artist avatarfandompolice ridicules above has done no such thing,) because colourism also exists within nonwhite communities as well.

As for the fake questions about cosplaying, the answer is really simple: Cosplay however you want, but don’t make pretending to be a different race part of your cosplay. If you want to cosplay Katara, you can do it without painting your skin darker, aka brownface. If you want to cosplay Zuko, you can do it without editing yourself to look East Asian, aka digital yellowface. The racist history behind this is an internet search away, but I suppose that is too difficult for avatarfandompolice to do.

Avatarfandompolice has made multiple claims that people must not really care about whitewashing if they only call it out for Katara. It is laughable at best, and sad at worst, that this is the conclusion they come to, and not the fact that unfortunately Katara just happens to be subjected to more whitewashing than other characters. I assume this is from a mix of her popularity as well as being a WOC and not MOC. This is not to say that whitewashing does not exist with male characters—not in the slightest. Half the images on this “10 fan art pictures of Sokka that are just the best” list from CBR are whitewashed. Only that across fandoms, whitewashing is more prevalent in female characters, by my observations at least.

Finally—and this one pisses me off the most—avatarfandompolice claims that whitewashing is no big deal, but calling out whitewashing is too harmful to justify. How fucking dare you put the feelings of artists who can’t handle critique of their work (that they publicly share) over fans of colour, who are constantly subjected to seeing our identities and looks not being worth respecting. As if it doesn’t imprint on your mind from a very young age how only villains ever have your facial features, because they’re ugly and I guess that means you’re ugly. As if there is something wrong with you. As if respecting you is regarded as extra effort, and not just common courtesy.

Whitewashing is a form of colourism, which is a form of racism. It is the favouritism, unconscious or not, of white features and the erasure of visible characters of colour. It is not fandom drama. It is not being too lazy to focus on “real issues” because it is part of a real issue. It is yet another part of why fandom spaces are so uninviting to POC. We live in a society that favours lighter skin. Corporations make fortunes from selling products to bleach your skin, products to contour your features away or go as far as surgery, all to meet beauty standards set by and influenced by white colonizers. That does not exist in A:TLA, and that’s called refreshing escapism. But it’s hard to escape that when the fandom constantly reminds you otherwise. It is a perfect example of how the classic “just let people enjoy things” complaint is nothing but disguised racism, because it’s only ever said regarding white fans’ enjoyment, at the expense of fans of colour.

None of the characters in A:TLA are white. Redesigning them and recolouring them as if they are, be it out of accident or intent is wrong. If you get called out for it, apologize, learn from the experience and do better going forward. You’ll also improve your art this way.

Beyond excusing whitewashing, avatarfandompolice has overt racist posts as well. A Black fan said they like to headcanon Katara as being partially Black; “I swear Katara was a sister. Im convinced there ain't no way she didn't have some black in her.” Avatarfandompolice jumps in saying “She's literally an Inuit but ok” as if being an Inuk person means Katara can’t possibly also be Black. The OP never claimed Katara was not Indigenous, simply that they also saw her as Black. Black Indigenous peoples exist. Black Inuk peoples exist. It is overtly anti-Black to say otherwise. But what even is the point of talking to avatarfandompolice about that? You know, you would think in trying to put such a front up of caring about the Inuit, they would do the most basic learning of the proper grammatical use of Inuit and Inuk. (As is the case with a great many Indigenous Nations, Inuit is both the Nation and plural. Inuk is singular. “An Inuit” / “Inuits” as avatarfandompolice has used just makes their dressed-up racism all the more pathetic. It’s similar to as if you said “Chinas” instead of “Chinese”.)

But all this is nothing, nothing compared to the worst post I had the displeasure of seeing. In a single post, avatarfandompolice manages to squeeze in insult against low income people, Mexican people, Jewish people, and Black people in a mockery of financial help posts. Absolutely disgusting, childish behaviour from a place of privilege. As someone who has had no option but to make such a post before, more than once, let me fucking tell you that the embarrassment and desperation when in that situation is unparalleled. It is not done lightly. It is done when you are at the last resort of having nothing but hope that the combined generosity of others will be enough to save you and your family. And what adds a whole other level to the odiousness of avatarfandompolice’s post is that they specifically targeting low income minorities to boot. Because we’re all poor beggars, right?

All in all, for someone who prides themselves in calling others ignorant, avatarfandompolice has to be one of the most obtuse fandom blogs I have ever scrolled through. They are as vile as they are pathetic, and my sincere sympathy for anyone who has been unfortunate enough to interact with them. It has been a while since I so strongly recommend blocking someone.

#avatarfandompolice #atla #atla fandom #racism #whitewashing #long post #fit for a queue

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relenafanel · 4 years

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Squats For Thots - Geralt/Jaskier | PG-13.

This is mostly one long dick joke I wrote as an excuse to use “Squats for Thots” as a title. It’s also mostly foolish men with crushes objectifying each other’s asses. #whoops.

“The Countess likes her men a little more thicc, you know?” Jaskier said, burning through the starting set Geralt had given him surprisingly well. Well enough that he continued talking, though Geralt wasn’t sure the man ever stopped. “Likes something to hold on to.”

Most of the men Geralt saw at the private club thought targeted exercises were a quick way to improve what they considered to be small problem areas, like there was a cheat sheet to looking like a Hemsworth that wasn’t partially genes. Most of them thought they were a personal trainer away from movie-star abs, and Geralt wasn’t there to disabuse them of the notion.

“I figured,” Jaskier continued, breathing through his final 20, “if I found the trainer with the best ass in the place they’d be the person to show me how to turn this slab into fab.”

“Do you ride?” Geralt asked, making a note to make Thursday’s session more intense.

“Yeah,” Jaskier said, finally sounding out of breath. He batted his eyelashes and Geralt also made a note to recommend the man invest in a sweatband if it was going to make him blink like that, especially since Jaskier didn’t seem to be perspiring hard yet.

“How many times a week and for how long?”

Jaskier opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked flustered and then flummoxed, though Geralt pretended he didn’t notice since he couldn’t figure out why. Then Jaskier laughed. “Ohh, you mean a horse,” he said. “Not often, not since adolescence, though I can still manage a decent seat when needed. Why? Should it be part of my training? I can’t say I’ve noticed all equestrians have a juicy booty but I don’t know if I’ve been looking for the trend.”

“Hm,” Geralt answered, aware it wasn’t an answer at all. “My job today is determining your limits.”

“Yeah,” Jaskier agreed, probably because they’d already been over this before starting. There was also that flirtatious lilt to it that Geralt was realizing he should have been able to identify from the start.

Fuck.

Jaskier was one of those people who stopped by the club a few times a month and spent more time off to the side drinking smoothies and watching the people around him than he did exercising. It was a surprise he was able to keep up with the exercises Geralt had designed to easily break him. “Your lower body is better developed than I assumed.”

“Thank you for the compliment, even though I think what you really mean is you assumed my fitness level is the same as a 3 year coma patient and tested me accordingly. I don’t think I’m even insulted by that. Though we could have saved some wasted time if you’d ever seen me naked.”

Geralt leveled him with an unimpressed expression designed to ask ‘why would I want to do that?’

Jaskier flushed but didn’t look particularly embarrassed or emasculated, which was maybe the first thing he’d done in his favour. “I don’t know,” he said with a shrug, “why does anyone?”

****

“I hear you’ve taken on the Viscount de Lettenhove as a client,” Lambert said, looking far too relaxed against the bar.

Geralt shrugged. He had six new clients since the last time he’d spoken with Lambert and the name didn’t sound familiar.

“Lord Julian?” Lambert continued. “Has a reputation for being very generous in bed, both generally and -“ he made a vague gesture to his dick. “A good third of the people at the club have either already had sex with him, want to have sex with him, or a combination of both. During your session last week, Rodgie said Lettenhove fucked him so well he thought he was gay for another three months, like he’d gone temporarily blind to the charms of women it was so good.”

Geralt scowled.

“I’m just repeating what he said. Don’t pretend you’re beyond gossiping about this.”

“I can’t place the name,” he admitted instead of answering that. Beyond gossip? Apparently not. Seeking it out? No. Especially about someone referred to as Lord Julian.

“Really? Tall-ish. Handsome-ish. Good with his hands. Treadmill squad can’t seem to take their eyes off him. Was in on Thursday.”

New client. Thursday. “Jaskier?”

“Yes,” Lambert agreed with a snap of his fingers. “That’s the name he uses. Rich people, eh?”

Jaskier?

Lambert shook his head. “I can’t tell if you just don’t notice people or if you genuinely aren’t into dick, sometimes.”

****

Geralt was into dick.

Sometimes.

****

He noticed.

Not anything different about Jaskier. The man still talked his way through whatever exercises Geralt threw at him, far too flirtatious for comfort, and never really seemed to notice that he was being openly appraised by almost every single person on exercise machines.

But Geralt did.

****

It wasn’t that Geralt noticed Jaskier, it was just that Jaskier was standing at the smoothie bar on a day they weren’t scheduled to work together and he noticed the incongruity of seeing Jaskier on a Friday morning.

Wearing shorts.

It wasn’t really the shorts that kept his attention, it was the same thing about Jaskier that he’d noticed from the first moment they’d started working together - Jaskier’s damn legs and those calves that told of a less sedentary lifestyle than Jaskier pretended. Geralt didn’t understand why someone would stop by the gym in a health club only to lounge around doing nothing if they obviously spent a lot of time working out their legs (at least).

It took him a bit longer than it should have to realize he was gawking just as badly as Jaskier’s damn treadmill fanclub. He turned his back and pretended he was very interested in something else. Anything else.

“Hey,” Jaskier said, handing Geralt the second smoothie in his hands. Geralt was sure the person overdoing it on the rowing machine wilted in jealousy. “Are you in a session?”

“Technically,” Geralt said and took a sip of the smoothie. It tasted like summer.

Jaskier grinned at him. “No show?”

“Sauna.”

“That’s an option?” Jaskier asked, but looked more amused than anything. “And here I’ve been exercising like a chump”

“It’s an option.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t leave you out here fully clothed. Seems like a waste.” He grinned at Geralt, sly in a way that included Geralt in the joke. “Maybe you could advise me on the best ways to steam it up.”

“It’s an option,” Geralt repeated.

“I…” Jaskier started to say and then closed his mouth. “Really?”

“But if you do, you won’t make any progress.”

“In my butt or with you?” he blurted out. “And yes, I can hear that sentence is one finished thought away from a dirty joke but I’m going to be the bigger man here.”

Geralt seriously doubted that.

“Oh my god. Are you one finished thought from making that into a dick joke?” Jaskier looked delighted. “Yass, Geralt.”

The sauna door opened, and Geralt prepared himself to finish the last five minutes of the hour, which consisted of making sure his client was hydrated before sending him on his way, rather than continuing this conversation with Jaskier.

“Wait,” Jaskier said, with a hand on Geralt’s arm. “Is there something I can make progress on?”

Geralt shrugged. There wasn’t NOT something, which he knew wasn’t an answer either.

“Ok, so, that’s not a no. I acknowledge it’s not a yes, but it’s also not a no, and you’re not someone who has trouble with the word no. So.” Jaskier waved his hand, spraying smoothie from the top of his straw. “That’s cool.”

That’s cool, Geralt repeated in his head as he walked away. He probably should have said no just to save himself the pain of hearing that’s cool.

****

“There’s a rumour you’re about to get laid,” Lambert said on their bi-weekly meet up for beer.

“That’s cool,” Geralt said with a shrug.

Which, honestly, was worth it just for the look on Lambert’s face.

****

“Ok,” Jaskier said on Monday, which also wasn’t one of their scheduled meetings. He showed up like some kind of annoyance mirage wearing a brightly coloured shirt and shoes meant for lounging. Geralt was in the middle of helping the Earl of Something’s second son work off his weekend bender. The man had run off to puke twice already and Jaskier’s shirt wasn’t helping any. Neither was the way Jaskier snapped his fingers in front of his clammy face. “Off you go, you’re looking a little peaked.”

“Thank you!”

Jaskier rolled a yoga ball over with his foot and perched on it, crossing his legs. It occurred to Geralt that Jaskier was like a male peacock posturing, with his vibrant clothes and stupid pose. It also occurred to Geralt that he shouldn’t be into it. “We should go out for coffee and stuff.”

“Fine.”

“What?” Jaskier said, losing his balance and almost falling on the floor.

“Coffee and stuff. Fine. Let’s go out.”

“I…” Jaskier opened his mouth. Closed it. “Expected more of an argument and to maybe leave disappointed.”

Geralt shrugged. “Why?”

“I don’t know!” Jaskier threw up his hands and then stood. His movements had an ease to them that they wouldn’t if he didn’t fucking exercise somewhere. Geralt was going to figure it out because he was pretty sure if he asked anyone they’d say it was from sex and life didn’t work that way. “Because you asked me if I ride and meant a horse!”

“You stop by the smoothie bar, grab a lounge chair for a few hours, and take a nap whenever you come in. Something needed to account for your legs.”

Jaskier started laughing.

“Don’t say it,” Geralt told him with annoyance.

“You noticed,” Jaskier stressed.

****

“I hate that I know why you look so relaxed,” Lambert grumbled.

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geraskier

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Love is a Dog From Hell, 1/5 (Rosnali) - Mattels

is it really that complicated that denali wants to be the best? all signs from the figure-skating gods seem to point to yes. (especially with her decidedly adult and mature hatred of coach rosé, who keeps wearing those god awful skin-tight ski-pants.)

aka denali’s a figure skating coach, rosé’s a ski coach; the rest is history

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29861322/chapters/73479360

November is sacred to Denali.

Although she’s a full-time figure-skating coach year round, boasting a full clientele of Olympic level students alongside a waiting list that seems to be growing by the year, November always manages to remind her why she started teaching to begin with.

Bonneville Academy, despite Denali considering its title of ‘academy’ being a stretch, has managed to wedge itself into her life, year after year. She spends six months of her year in Chicago, teaching private lessons to overenthusiastic and grossly rich teenagers, but from November through to April, she spends in Utah, working with the students to tighten their quadruple lutzes and receiving a paycheck that leaves her feeling pretty comfortable until the next November.

Although the school is technically a legitimate boarding school, offering fairly okay-quality education alongside the best training in the country all year, a lot of the students only attend for the ski season, unable or unwilling to fund a whole year.

Or maybe, Denali considers with a smile, nobody wants to live in the middle of nowhere, locked away in the mountains like a fucking yeti.

Michelle Visage, school director, emails Denali every year about working for them full-time, but every year Denali finds herself unable to leave Chicago behind. She loves her cozy city life, thank you very much. Living alone in her uptown apartment has yet to be beaten, even with the promise of the best skating facilities money can buy.

Half of the kids who attend don’t even realise how lucky they are, she finds herself thinking as her rental car starts the ascent to the school. It’s a long drive, the journey from Salt Lake to Bonneville is deliberately out of most peoples’ way, ensuring the cleanest snow and freshest powder for its plethora of skiers and snowboarders. She’d definitely have killed for something like this when she was still training.

The school is specialised, known for its premium winter sports programme raved about by former Olympians and their coaches. Everything is fully equipped, facilities and machines inside the camp always sparkling new and top of the line; huge dance studios with scary Russian ballet teachers to help her skaters achieve their best on the ice; big gyms and personal trainers; meals specially catered and designed to build muscle and strengthen bones.

It’s also really fucking expensive; Denali sees the checks on Michelle’s desk with their seemingly endless zeroes, given by mothers determined to boast that their little Sally went to Bonneville! But the elusive RuPaul, who Denali knows funds the school, but has never seen or heard much about, hands out plenty of scholarships to kids she deems talented and hard-working enough to thrive.

Denali’s car turns the corner, giving her a view of Bonneville’s ski slopes. She spots a couple of instructors already at the top of the chairlifts, riding down the mountain in neat lines as they enjoy the start of what’s looking to be a beautiful season. It’s still early, but it’s snowing heavily, Denali’s windscreen wipers working hard to keep the snowflakes off her windscreen.

As Denali pulls up to their entrance, she spots a couple of other employees hanging around outside, boisterous laughter coming from their conversations. They’re all old-timers, Denali is sure one or two of them have worked at the school since its opening in the late nineties.

She immediately spots the inky black mullet that belongs to Mik, one of the snowboarding coaches for the younger kids. She’s standing alone, narrow back pressed up against a red bricked wall as she smokes a cigarette, flicking ash off of the end into the thin layer of snow below her feet.

She gets out of her car, passing her keys over to the valet Michelle hires unnecessarily every year, always insisting, rather pointedly if you ask Denali, who seems to consistently be at the receiving end of the seemingly never-ending gripe, that she knows that someone’ll fuck up her parking arrangement, Denali.

It’s a fair point– Denali would never be bothered to follow Michelle’s colour-coordinated and meticulously planned spreadsheet, in which she’s grouped all the instructors of the same sport together in the carpark, as if it matters to anyone which spot they have.

The valet takes her bags too, which she’s perpetually grateful for; her suitcases are almost always overweight in the airport, despite taking three of her big ones with her. They’ll take them down to her room for her too, as if she’s staying in a nice hotel, not just a ridiculously boujee school.

Mik spots her, dropping the cigarette she was smoking and stubbing it against her chunky boots, jogging over to catch Denali in a tight hug. “Hey slut!”

Denali laughs, embracing her. “Nice to see you too, Mickey.”

Mik shrugs, letting her go with a smile. “You know you missed me, don’t even try it.” Denali rolls her eyes but can’t deny it, grinning when Mik wraps an arm around her shoulders.

“Denali Foxx!” Michelle greets her loudly, ticking her name off on a clipboard. “Usual room,” she says, fishing a key out of her pocket and passing it to Denali.

“Roomies!” Mik says, laughing with an eye-roll when Denali pretends to shover her fingers down her throat complete with exaggerated gagging sounds.

Denali’s always grateful to room with Mik, the rooms are a slightly awkward size– too big to stay in alone, a little too small for two people. Mik works at the school year round, and Denali knows she’s equally grateful to have someone to share with, forever complaining about how empty it feels when she’s by herself with two beds.

“Almost everyone else is already on the slopes,” Michelle notes, turning around so she can point out people on the mountain behind them. “You’ve got a couple days until the kids are allowed out, so better make the most of it.”

The school is laid out like a small village, boys on one side and girls on another, divided in almost everything except meals, which they have in the dining hall all together. The dorms are split into age, six buildings facing parallel to one another in a large U-shape, each with attached communal bathrooms and showers for the students. The buildings are all deliberately short so you can gape at Utah’s mountains practically anywhere on campus.

“I’ve been waiting for you to go out,” Mik says, grabbing Denali’s hand between her cold fingers, trying to drag her down the asphalt leading to the sports instructors’ rooming in the centre of the U.

The academics take place a couple miles down the road in a big building that actually looks like a school, which Michelle swears helps the students to stay focused, but Denali can’t say she’s totally convinced. She’s seen them get off the bus after school, racing one another to be the first in the chairlift queue.

“I really don’t want to go.” Denali whines, but lets Mik tug her down the path regardless. She’s not the best snowboarder even on her best days, and Mik always wants to take her down the especially mogul-ly runs, zipping in between trees and dodging ice patches that are still missing snow.

“Yes you do!” She says, practically skipping down the road. “There’s only a couple of us here anyways, and the kids aren’t allowed to carve up the snow yet– it’ll be fun!”

Denali rolls her eyes, with a sigh. “I’m only doing green runs!”

“Only red runs? Perfect!”

“No, fuck, come on Mik,” she huffs, her breath coming out in sharp puffs in the cold air. “I’m out of practice, this isn’t fair.”

Mik looks at her, shrugging her narrow shoulders, “how’s that my issue, gorge?”

She groans loudly as they approach the staff building, letting Mik lead the way to their room, unlocking the door with her own key.

Mik keeps their room uncharacteristically clean, especially in comparison to her wardrobe filled with clothes piled up on the bottom rather than on their hangers. Denali is pleased to see her blue suitcases on the side of the room Mik’s left for her, both her skating and snowboard boot bags by the end of her bed.

Mik talks aimlessly about the year so far as Denali changes out of her oversized shirt and equally oversized jeans combo. She rifles through her suitcases, half listening to the other girl, searching for her snow-pants and a hoodie, adhering to Mik’s advice to forgo her ski-jacket as it’s still early in the season and sunny enough, despite the snowfall.

She makes her help her lace up her boots properly, watching Mik’s skilled hands tightening them in record time. “Are you borrowing a board?” She asks.

“Mm,” Denali confirms, “are they ready?”

“You can literally borrow mine,” Mik squints up at her from her kneeling position, “we’re like, basically the same height.”

Denali scoffs at this, arching one of her dark eyebrows. “No fucking way am I borrowing one of yours, they’re all deathtraps.”

“They’re literally normal boards.”

“No, they’re all weirdly thin and flexible, I’ll literally break my neck.”

Mik frowns, “ok, first of all, rude. Second of all, I’ll have you know my boards are perfectly safe–”

“–did you or did you not snap one in half last year?”

“That was one time!”

“And that’s one time too many, doll.” Denali says, leaning down to tuck the laces into the tongue of her boot, pulling down her pants so they rest over the top. She reaches out a palm, helping Mik up from her kneeling position. “Get ready and I’ll meet you by the chairlift, okay?”

Mik rolls her eyes, reaching into Denali’s suitcase to attach her goggles to her helmet, passing it over with her gloves tucked neatly inside, as she would with her ten year-olds. Denali yells a thanks over her shoulder as she leaves, weaving her way out of their building to run down to their small ski shop.

☆☆☆☆☆

Humiliatingly enough, Mik makes Denali carry her snowboard with her on the chairlift, refusing to let her sit with one foot strapped in like a normal person would.

“You’re gonna knock your teeth out,” she laughs when Denali complains loudly about it. “Like fully splat, bitch.”

“I know how to ride a chairlift, thank you very much.” Denali grumbles, clutching her board tightly in her arms and sitting down. Mik reaches behind them, pulling down the safety bar, which Denali rests her feet on.

“Can’t have any casualties on day one, gorge.”

“The only casualty will be from me wringing your skinny little neck out when you push me down the mountain, you fucking bitch.” She groans, looking at the run below them.

There’s a pack of skiers weaving their way down tightly together under the poles of the lift. She can already see the deep valleys of moguls, even with her terrible eyesight. One of them looks up at their chair, waving at them with a grin.

Denali squints and she can see it’s Tayce, one of the newer instructors at the school. They had made fast friends last year, gossiping together about who hooked up with who over Thanksgiving– no, no, no, it’s clearly Brooklyn and Vanessa, they keep eyeing each other up–, which of their kids were likely to actually make the Olympic team– all of mine, thank you very much, Taycey–, who they might fuck given the chance– have you not seen A’Whora in the physio suite? I’d let her curb-stomp my neck– et cetera, et cetera.

“Everyone else is coming up tonight and tomorrow,” Mik remarks, waving over-exaggeratedly waving down to Tayce like she’s in a pantomime. “Tayce is like the only bitch I can stand here, as of currently”

“ As of currently? I’m here, as of currently! ”

“My point still stands, gorge.”

“After this run can you join up with them?” Denali groans, “Tayce’ll go super-speed with you. And she’ll let you harass her without breaking your nose.”

Mik laughs, “I don’t go that fast, bitch.”

“Have you ever seen that Disney movie Bolt ? Y’know the one with that dog who runs like, full speed of light? They could do a live-action version with you as the dog.”

“Woof!”

Denali’s face cracks into a grin as she rolls her eyes, “I’m serious! One minute you’re next to me, the next you’re–” she slides her gloved hands together in a forward motion “–zip . And then I’m the idiot who can’t get down.

“I’d never leave you!” Mik gasps, clapping a palm to her chest. “How dare you, fucking bitch.”

Denali scoffs loudly in response. Every year Mik tries to bully her into doing a couple runs together, and every year without fail Denali obliges, only to find herself stuck at the top of a mountain, Mik nowhere in sight.

“Head,” Mik announces, reminding Denali to duck her head so Mik can raise the safety bar, as they start to approach the end of the lift. Mik lines herself up to the drop-off, riding around the corner smoothly, giggling as Denali has to jog to keep up.

They both sit down to strap in, Mik tightening Denali’s bindings for her and pulling her up with a roll of her eyes.

“See you at the bottom?” Mik asks. Before Denali can answer, she’s slipped off, whooping as she hits a bump and flies upwards, grabbing the nose of her board as she hits the jump.

“So much for never leaving me, I guess,” Denali grumbles, carefully edging herself down the slopes with big sweeping S-shaped turns, she knows Mik will laugh at her about later, reminding her how her ten year-olds could easily out-board her.

Uh yeah, I’d fucking hope so, Denali thinks to herself, curving around onto the toe-edge of her board. Otherwise this’d be the biggest waste of money like, uh, ever.

The air that whips around her is cool, blowing snowflakes into her dark hair, but she doesn’t feel cold, happy in her thick sweatshirt and pants. Her feet are desperate to be unlatched from the board, feeling slightly unnatural to be locked in. She’s much more in her element spraying ice as she nails a complicated spin, she knows Mik would eat ass on.

Yeah, she thinks, fuck you and your ten year-olds, Mickey.

☆☆☆☆☆

“Michelle’s put the board up,” Tayce says in the late afternoon, sticking her head around Denali and Mik’s door propped open by a snowboard boot.

Denali looks up from the book she’s reading, comfortably curled up on her bed with her mandatory evening uniform of thick fluffy socks and sweats on. Mik, on the other hand, is still in her lycra leggings and hoodie, having made no effort to change since coming back, much to Denali’s disgust.

“Well?” Tayce asks in annoyance, cocking her hip, “you coming or what?”

Mik groans, rolling off of her bed and moving to stand next to Tayce in their doorway, bare feet on the cold linoleum. Denali carefully places her bookmark in her book, grabbing a pair of Nike slides– sponsored, thank you very much– and begrudgingly walking down the corridor to their big common room.

The Board– with an optional trademarked symbol from Mik– as it’s been aptly dubbed, is a large whiteboard divided neatly (by the increasingly anal Michelle) into a leaderboard. The top ten coaches are listed top to bottom, ordering the number of world title holders they’ve coached at Bonneville, bonus points being allotted to those whose kids win gold, and double points if the title being held was Olympian.

Michelle says it builds healthy competition. Denali says it builds a desire to Tonya Harding every other bitch in this place. Tomayto, tomahto.

Denali hadn’t even been on The Board, until she had returned three seasons ago with the last World Skating Championships under her belt, managing to land three podium spots. She proudly boasted for months to anyone that looked like they might listen that her girls had swept the categories, winning medals across the ladies’ single event, ice dance and pair skating.

Despite her allure of confidence, she knows she only made it up there because Michelle insists on starting fresh each year. She tries to tell them that she’s giving the new coaches a chance, but everyone knows it’s to keep egos in check.

Egos like mother-fucking Rosé McCorkell’s, who’s placed first on The Board two years running.

First as in one spot ahead of Denali’s second, first. First as in gloating in Denali’s face every opportunity she gets (and rest be assured, every opportunity means every opportunity ), first. First as in deliberately sabotaging Denali’s skaters, first– well, at least in Denali’s eyes.

Okay, whatever, yes it could have been a coincidence that one of her front runners’ sole came unglued from the attached blade on the morning of Nationals a year ago. And yeah, sure, maybe Rosé was like, several states away from the incident. And okay, yes, she still came in first after the whole thing, so it’s not it even really mattered after all. But Denali just knows Rosé had something to do with it, that bitch.

“Who’s on top of the pyramid this year?” Mik sing-songs when they approach The Board. Denali instinctively works her way through their photos from the bottom to the top, clapping Tayce lightly on the back when she sees her smack-dab in the centre.

She isn’t nervous; she knows she did well this year, the girls she had coached in the previous season competing in nationally-recognised competitions, pictures of them grinning up on their podiums, flowers in sequinned arms, emailed to her and the school. And it’s not even like it matters.

Her photo stands in line with another, both placed side-by-side at the top of the leaderboard. She can hear Mik mumble an oh shit, with a laugh as she realises that Denali is tied with Rosé at the top.

Okay, so maybe it matters a little bit.

Rosé’s photo looks down at her. She’s wearing her obnoxious signature pink ski jacket, her name embroidered into it in a sparkly silver thread. Her equally obnoxiouly signature curly pink hair has been tied up in a messy ponytail, and she stares at Denali with a big fucking grin on her face.

Denali wants to rip down the laminated photo, putting it into a paper shredder and watch as Rosé’s dumb face gets torn into ribbons.

“Healthy competition huh?” Tayce remarks, wrapping a long arm around Denali’s shoulders. “The cheek, the nerve, the audacity and the gumption, mama.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” A voice groans, Denali turns around and is met by the woman of the hour. Rosé looks her up and down, irritation flickering in her green eyes. “Stepping your shit up, this season ice princess?”

Denali arches an eyebrow in response. “Evidently, McCorkell.”

Rosé smiles at her, all pearly white teeth Denali is pretty sure are veneers– well, at least that’s the rumour she and Tayce started last year as a laugh.

All of a sudden, she feels like a shark’s prey, a minnow trapped inside the great white’s tank. Rosé doesn’t have to say anything for Denali to know that she’s going to be in for a tough season.

Better get that hammer ready, she thinks to herself, I am not the Nancy Kerrigan of this competition, bitch.

tags: rosé, denali foxx, gottmik, rosnali, rivals to lovers, coach au, figure skating au, skiing au, lesbian au, love is a dog from hell, mattels

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