#now imagine all this in the context of an enemies to lovers story

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

Stuck on the idea of vampires as a kind of reverse fae, or like someone's twisted, perverse attempt at moulding humans into fae.

They're repelled by liminal spaces.

A vampire could never enter fairyland, not just because they'd never be welcomed, but because most of the usual entry-ways are naturally barred to them.

They can't cross running water. They can't be seen in mirrors. They will wait forever at a crossroads, unable to pick a direction to go in. They can't even step over a thresh-hold unless there is absolutely no ambiguity about whether they are welcome inside.

They crave human blood, iron and salt, but are repelled by herbs and plants. They are supernaturally prevented from harming you unless the rules of hospitality have been invoked.

A fairy may replace your newborn child with something unnatural and ever-hungry. A vampire will do the same, but with your grandmother's corpse.

The fae are typically associated, even in stories where they're the bad guys, with flourishing and purity. Vampires, even in stories where they're the good guys, are typically associated with decay and corruption.

The fae turn ancient human burial mounds into fancy halls for their courts. Vampires take ancient human castles and let them grow mildewed and cobwebbed, exchanging the beds for coffins, turning them into burial places.

Fae don't tend to live among humans, but can generally pass for them with relative ease if they so choose. Vampires nearly always live among humans, but tend to find not revealing themselves a huge struggle.

I can't think of many stories I've read where fae and vampires even exist in the same universe, let alone ones where they actively interact. I feel like their enmity is almost more inevitable than that between vampires and werewolves, however.

The rivalry between vampires and werewolves is, essentially, the rivalry between two apex predator species who share a territory. (Even in stories where the werewolves aren't actually hunting humans.)

The vampires hate the werewolves because the werewolves interfere with their access to prey. The werewolves hate the vampires either because they consider themselves aligned with humans (the prey species), or because they are also predators and the vampires are competing with them.

By comparison, I think there's some story potential in the fae finding something genuinely creepy and uncanny valley about vampires.

They're immortal, like them, but also dead. They can be beautiful, like them, but that beauty is something they actively require humans to sustain. They like to inhabit beautiful and ancient ex-human dwellings, like them, but they actively work to make those places dark, damp and empty.

Fairies who are unflappable in the face of all sorts of Otherworldly monsters, can look an eldritch horror in the eye(s) without blinking, and have never been phased yet by any human, but will recoil from even the weakest vampire.

Vampires who hate fairies just as much, but in a more envious way. The way that the creature for whom immortality is a curse is bound to hate the creatures for whom immortality is an eternity of sunlight and laughter.

Maybe their touches burn each other. Maybe vampires can't stand physical contact with anything so alive and vital. Maybe immortal fairies become ill from too much exposure to the undead.

Maybe they fight over the human population when their territories overlap. The fairy need for servants and people to make deals with, competing with the vampire need for thralls and blood to drink.

Just… fairies and vampires. We need more stories about them interacting.

[bidisasterevankinard]

Inspiration Saturday 🎸🎙️🎧

Tagged by my love @honestlydarkprincess who started it with really amazing Natalia/Lucy post💙💙💙💙

I was waiting months to find idea for enemies to lovers and FINALLY

Meet mood board for enemies to lovers singers buddie au + snippet

context Buck's ex outed him to public when Buck wasn't even thinking about coming out as bi

Drowning in sadness and in the feeling that his whole life is going downhill, Buck hears the doorbell ring and despite all his desires to fuck off the one who came, he still goes to the door. 

Maybe it's Bobby who came to say that Buck ruined his second chance and he doesn't want to see him on their label anymore. Buck will understand. Doesn't mean it won't finish him off now.

After open the door all the desire to say fuck off only increases exponentially when he sees who is standing behind the door. Meeting with brown eyes Buck wants to disappear underground

“Great. Like I need more problems now.”

Call him an asshole; he doesn't have any forces to be kind to Eddie despite their truce.

Eddie only raises his hands up in sight of surrender. In one hand he had a bottle. He has his trademark grin on his lips, which Buck wants to erase with his fist. Or his cock.

“I came with peace. And whiskey," Eddie shakes the bottle.

He is silent for a second, obviously choosing his words, and then his grin subsides and Buck sees in his eyes regret and something that can be described as sympathy and concern. 

"I'm sorry, Buck. Sincerely sorry. No one should have to go through this. You had to come out on your own terms when you were ready,” big browns look him right in the soul and Buck feels like he has new portions of tear ready to come. 

He refuses to cry in front of Eddie, so he clenches his fists so that his nails leave marks.

“Yeah, well, it's not like that anymore. And my career may be over.”

“Maybe yes, maybe no. Some people will certainly send negative messages, but I'm sure many will support you. I've already seen tweets that aren't very flattering about your ex. He may think he's done something cool, but he's just an asshole. And I have a suggestion.”

The smirk is back in big plush lips.

“Which one?” Buck frowns.

“Another song. About him. Where you lay out everything you think about this asshole. I'll add some. I already have a sketch. I wrote it when I saw the news," Eddie takes his notebook from jacket. "That's why I came late. I wanted to give you some time to cool down.”

“Hate song? Seriously?” 

Buck could expect many things from Eddie: came here to have fun about the fact that Buck's career is over, to point out that Buck always went to destroy himself, hell, Buck admits that he could even have expected real sympathy from Eddie, but not an offer to write a song about his ex.

“And why not? I'm sure you want to kick his ass, but shaming him for the whole world by telling your story and recording a song seems to me a worthy "reward" for him.”

For a second Buck lets himself imagine it and can't deny that the idea of using their talents and humiliating this asshole seems pleasant to him.

Remembering that they are still on the doorsteps, he lets Eddie come in and leads him into the living room.

“Let's have a drink and I'll think about it”

song which is inspired this scene and au

Tagging if they want to share :@911onabc @ebdaydreamer @alyxmastershipper @transbuck @cowboy-buddie @lover-of-mine @heartshapedvows @bekkachaos @panbuckley @rogerzsteven @the-likesofus @elvensorceress @shortsighted-owl @barbiediaz @buddierights @housewifebuck @thewolvesof1998 @wildlife4life @wikiangela @hippolotamus @transboybuckley @devirnis @heartbeatdiaz @spotsandsocks @monsterrae1 @spaceprincessem @userdisaster @caroandcats @mandzuking17 @sibylsleaves @translasso and anyone who wants to share

[ugh-yoongi]

heart got teeth | knj

(or, the one where namjoon meets his match and isn’t quite sure how to handle you.)

→ pairing: namjoon x f. reader → genre: pwp; smut, angst, enemies to fwb to lovers (kinda) → rating: explicit. minors dni. → warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, reader is kind of a dickhead for a while but namjoon is a very into it and generally a horny disaster so it cancels out, side jihope because i can, hobi can’t hold his alcohol and namjoon says baby a lot so this is basically canon compliant, this is just porn with a crumb of plot so i will do my best with the explicit tags: kissing, joon has a wet dream, oral sex (m/f receiving), masturbation (namjoon does it a lot, reader once), fingering, i think there’s a handjob, dirty talk, dom undertones but nothing full-on, thigh riding, facesitting, referenced semi-public sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, one ass slap, very light choking, namjoon is just down really bad idk what else to say. → wordcount: 12k → playlist: 5 seconds of summer - teeth • monsta x - nobody else • waterparks - stupid for you • poppy - all the things she said • namasenda - 24/7 • bastille - goosebumps • monsta x - wildfire → a/n: this is a fic i wrote for an old fandom and reworked/rewrote to work in this context, so if it looks familiar, it is. don’t report me, i promise it's mine. :’) as always, thank you to lauren, jess, and bee for looking this over and catching all my fuckups. you all are the best and i would be a whole clown without the three of you.

To your credit, you truly have no ulterior, unsavory motives as you step inside.

It’s meant to be a simple night out with a few of your friends. A club, of course, because they never pass up an opportunity to go all-out: impeccable hair and makeup, outfits that are more like a second skin, fuck-me eyes with the glossed lips to match, ones that leave very little to the imagination of how low that mouth will go and how it’ll feel once it gets there.

Tonight’s about mourning. No more Seokjin in your entourage, seeing as he’s too busy fucking some boring accountant now. A “one-man man” he’d called himself, and you can’t possibly think of anything worse. There isn’t an accountant on earth hot enough to inspire monogamy.

So, you came to the club. The high-end one your friends like in the city with the hot bartender. Taehyung had wanted to blow off some steam before heading back to Daegu for a few weeks, anyway. Not that he has to wait long—someone catches his eye a few minutes in, leaving you and Jimin on your own.

Just as well. Neither of you have much trouble pulling.

Twelve minutes. Not your personal best, but it’ll do.

You have them pegged from a mile away. The taller one will have money and some sob story about growing up wealthy, fake humility dripping from every word as he waxes poetic about never taking anything for granted, while his friend—shorter by a few inches, hair looking neon red under the club lights, and certainly in his element—will play his good-cop partner in crime. He’s probably very charming, the type who will use his disarming, megawatt smile to secure a seat at the table and learn the drink order and pave the way for the dark-haired one to work his magic.

Because the dark-haired one will definitely work his magic. That smolder alone has probably been the cause of hundreds of weak knees, the kind of look that gets him whatever he wants with few questions asked besides, “yours or mine?”

You don’t bother to hide the disinterested look on your face, which suits you just fine. You know it’s flattering, your honeypot look. All to do with the slightly parted lips, the steeled, blasé stare that men fell over themselves to have focused on them. And, sure, you’ve taken a keen interest in vapid, meaningless sex with attractive strangers, but you aren’t sure you’ll be able to stomach the small talk these two will inevitably require to get to that point.

“Heads up,” Jimin says, nodding to his right.

You snort, hiding the downward tug of your mouth behind your whiskey glass. “I know.”

“Are you not interest—”

Jimin’s question is cut off by the smiley one finally reaching their table, immediately sliding into the booth beside him, both unprompted and unwelcome. Lithe limbs knock unceremoniously against the underside of the glossy table, and you can already see the gears turning in Jimin’s head. He never was able to resist a dancer’s body, which means the other one will be your problem for the evening.

“Would it be okay if I joined you?”

You cock an eyebrow at that. The dimly-lit, grimy club hardly seems like an appropriate setting for that level of refinement. “If you must.”

His bravado falters just for a second. Blink and you’ll miss it. Just as you expected, he isn’t used to being denied anything. “Oh,” he stammers, his eyes darting to his friend on his left who is too busy whispering god-knows-what in Jimin’s ear to notice. “It’s just… my friend,” he tries to explain.

Still gazing up at him, your lips stretch into a challenging smirk. “Mm, I noticed.”

He’s fidgeting. Weight shifts from one leg to the other, fingers flexed around the glass he’s holding before relaxing. “So, can I—”

“I don’t know,” you muse, “can you?”

“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters, his features immediately resetting to appear calm and collected. “May I?”

With a smug grin, you nod, gesturing to the empty space beside you. Your night was bound to be interrupted one way or another, and it’s always better to have it done so by someone so easily affected. There’s something deeply gratifying about making this stranger lose just that bit of control, of seeing his composed mask slip for only a second.

His enormous presence is immediately felt beside you, heat emanating from his flushed skin and calling to you like a siren song. And, god, is he attractive up close, the type of bone structure that plausibly could have been carved from stone, worshiped centuries ago. It takes a lot of self-restraint to not reach out and touch him, to keep your hands wrapped around your glass instead of skimming them along the outside of the thigh pressed against you.

If he’s going to be your only option for the evening, there’s nothing wrong with having a bit of fun, even if you aren’t particularly charmed by him.

Liking him isn’t a necessary prerequisite for taking him home—or to the bathroom, if the situation requires it—and having him fuck you senseless.

This is a game you’ve played—and won—countless times before. Because you can feel his dark gaze on you, each sideways glance lasting longer than the one before. Can see how jittery he still is, as if he feels the electricity between you, too, but is too paralyzed to act on it.

So, really, it shouldn’t be a surprise that you toy with him. He sneaks a glance, you make a show of crossing your legs, the garish club lights reflecting off smooth, soft skin. Another glance and you run your tongue slowly over your bottom lip, pretending to listen intently to whatever Jimin’s saying. You bare your neck to him as you throw back the last of your drink, head lolling to the side just enough to have him wondering how it’d feel to press his lips against the skin there.

A small, private grin to yourself when he sputters and tries awkwardly to cover it by clearing his throat. “Can—can I buy you another drink?”

God, he almost makes it too easy. “I don’t know. Can you?”

There’s a sharp sound as he bangs his fist on the table, jaw clenched in frustration. “I’m not going to ask twice.” Meant as a threat, but you know exactly what it is: just another attempt to regain control. You almost take pity on him. The poor guy really isn’t used to not easily getting whatever he wants.

You lean over, lips close enough to the shell of his ear to make the hair stand on his arms. “You’re lucky I let you ask once.”

He looks positively flustered now, a furious, rapid blush creeping up his neck, and you take his reaction and tuck it away for later. Want to save it, want to memorize the look on his face—the small parting of his lips, the barely-audible groan, the subtle roll of his shoulders. Want to think about it all later, preferably when you’re alone. Maybe in bed.

Jimin’s still engaged in conversation with the one who can’t stop laughing, his eyes lighting up every time he leans in to say something with that heart-shaped mouth only meant for Jimin to hear. When he pulls away from Jimin and turns his attention to you, you’re finally able to take in the lines of his face. Softer than the one you’re currently sitting next to, a bit more feminine, but you know there’s bite to him. Definitely attractive, has that familiar brand of confident swagger, and one-hundred percent Jimin’s type.

You think Jimin calls your name.

You turn your attention back to your friend, who’s looking at you expectantly. “Hm? Sorry, Chim, I couldn’t hear you.”

“Hoseokie-hyung says the next round is on him. D’you want another drink?”

“A few shots of tequila would be lovely,” you smile. “Thanks so much.”

You can feel the man beside you tense as he says, “I’ll join you, hyung.”

He stands, staring at you with a look that says he knows exactly what game you’re playing, giving everyone else all of your sweet and reserving the sour only for him. Seems like he isn’t all that impressed, either, if the tight set of his jaw is any indication. All you bother to offer him in return is a slow, deliberate smirk. Game on.

Jimin leans across the table conspiratorially. “So…? What do you think of Namjoon?”

“Who’s Namjoon?” you answer, nails clacking away as you reply to a text from Taehyung.

“Are you serious?” Jimin frowns. “He’s been sitting next to you all night.”

You chuckle at that. “Why do I need to know his name if you’re just going to fuck his friend?”

“I’m not—” Jimin pauses, pushes his bubblegum pink hair out of his face, chews the thought over. “Okay, I am, but—”

“It’s fine, Minnie. Do your thing. That’s the whole reason we came out, anyway.”

Jimin clicks his tongue. “You don’t like him at all? Not even a little bit?”

“You know he’s not my type.”

“Excuse me?” Jimin nearly shrieks. “Tall, extremely handsome, and rich isn’t your type?”

You roll your eyes. “Stuck-up dickhead isn’t my type. I’m extremely good-looking and rich on my own.”

“I don’t think he’s a dick,” Jimin defends. “Plus, he seems super into you. He was making googly eyes every time I looked over.”

“Guys always look at us like that on a night out.”

It takes a few minutes and a disregarded pleading stare, but Jimin eventually throws his hands up in surrender. “Fine! Just… be nice, at least.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Why? You planning on keeping that guy around awhile?”

Jimin frowns, moves to protest, but his words are cut off by Hoseok again stumbling back to their table, a massive grin spreading across his face as he sidles up next to Jimin. With none of the same enthusiasm, Namjoon stands awkwardly next to the table, refusing to meet your eye as he hands out shots, two for everyone. Amused, you wonder if there’s a reason he might need to take the edge off. You huff a knowing, soft laugh.

As he reluctantly slides in next to you—distance kept, of course; no contact—you and Jimin move to clink your shot glasses together. You’ve rehearsed this scene a million times before: lean across the table, nearly touching; then, you’ll use a bit too much force, sending the drink spilling over the rim of the glass, sloshing onto the exposed skin of Jimin’s chest, which you lick off with an, “Oops, sorry, babe!” and an innocent smile.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Works every time.

Namjoon shifts beside you, clearly trying to appear unbothered. Some mumbled sentence about the club getting too warm and he rolls his sleeves to his elbows, the slight sheen of sweat covering an expanse of golden skin—the sight of which sends an unwelcome pang of heat straight to your core.

And he doesn’t miss it, either. “See something you like, baby?” he asks, confidence returning with a smugness that doesn’t sit right with you.

“All I see are two sweaty arms, so… no, not really.”

Namjoon studies you, nostrils flared as he tries to seem unfazed again. “You are truly insufferable, you know that?”

“I don’t recall asking for your opinion of me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Consider the first one free.”

“Well, I don’t plan on paying for a second, so I guess you’ll have to sit there like a good little boy and keep your thoughts to yourself.”

He chokes on his drink, sputtering and coughing in a way that has Hoseok leaning across the table to slap him on the back. “Namjoon-ah, are you—”

“I’m fine,” Namjoon snaps, not meeting his friend’s eye.

Jimin, with a knowing look on his face—yet still pointed, since his request for you to be nice has clearly fallen on deaf ears—offers Namjoon a sweet smile. “So, Namjoon-ssi, what do you do?”

“I’m—”

“He’s a psycho,” Hoseok slurs, cheeks flushed from all the alcohol and enough confidence in his answer to wipe the smile from Jimin’s face. “No, wait—”

You try really hard to mask the snort of laughter that manages to escape, but it only worsens when Namjoon says, “I’m a psychotherapist,” at the same time Hoseok clarifies again that, “He’s a psycho?”

“A therapist, huh? That seems important.” You know what Jimin’s doing, still hell-bent on his mission to get you to give Namjoon a chance. “What else are you into?”

“Bicycles,” Hoseok slurs again.

Namjoon groans, tossing back a shot before answering, “Motorcycles.”

“Mm, no, it’s definitely bicycles and you’re lying to seem cool since you don’t even have a license. But whatever.” Then he turns to Jimin, a 24 karat smile on his face as he asks, “Do you wanna come back to my apartment and have sex? I live alone.” Despite yourself and the horrified looks on both Namjoon’s and Jimin’s faces, you have to respect the boldness.

“You’re really drunk, hyung,” Jimin replies hesitantly.

Hoseok just shrugs. “You can stay over. I’ll sleep on the couch and then I’ll make you breakfast in the morning and we can have sex after.”

“So respectful,” you laugh. “I’ll fuck your brains out in the morning, but I won’t defile your honor by sharing a bed with you.”

Jimin seems gobsmacked. “I…” He looks at you, who just shrugs. Not the first time Jimin will leave with someone from the bar and, despite your friend’s initial hesitation, it probably won’t be the last, either. “Okay. But I want a full spread in the morning! All the banchan, too! Nothing weird.”

Hoseok doesn’t press his luck, just tosses some money in Namjoon’s direction, grabs Jimin’s hand, and does his best to stumble out the door while he calls for a taxi.

Namjoon’s presence feels almost overwhelming once the two of you are alone, still sitting too close together on the same side of the table. You know he’s stealing glances at you again, can feel his eyes on you, your skin, as you busy yourself with your phone. Send quick ‘text me when you get to their place and again in the morning’ messages to both Jimin and Taehyung even though they always do and don’t have to be told, but Namjoon’s gaze is heavy and there are implications and questions behind it that, frankly, you’re looking to avoid.

Maybe he’s affected more than he’s letting on. Surely a guy like him—so used to being in control, so used to being chased—isn’t the type to sit around and wait for orders, especially concerning something he wants. And he does want you. That much is clear.

You’ve dragged him so far off course it’s all he can do to tread water. Namjoon is fine with disinterest; not every person in the world is going to want him, despite the ego that tries very hard to convince him otherwise. Sometimes they want the charming, outgoing one instead of the reserved one who doesn’t do anything without a purpose, and such is the reality of being Hoseok’s wingman. That’s fine—really, he doesn’t mind. Always better to go home alone than with someone who isn’t all-in on him.

But he hasn’t been able to figure you out at all.

Worse, you know it.

So, if you accidentally-on-purpose rub your foot along his calf as you cross your legs and smirk at the strangled groan that escapes him, who can blame you?

“Guess that’s my cue to leave as well.” No room for misinterpretation, there. It’s as closed-off and uninviting as it can be, yet Namjoon stays frozen in place, unable to move aside to let you out of the booth. “Well?”

He comes to, coughing a bit as he shuffles into the aisle to his left. “Right, yeah. How are—will—do you need a ride home?”

You roll your lips. “Are you offering? With no license?”

“Yes,” he says, the word breathier than he’d like.

You smile sweetly, a slender finger moving to trace along his jawline. His eyes flutter closed at your touch, thick eyelashes ink-black and out of place against his cheek. Your lips move back to the shell of his ear. “Then no.”

Undeterred, Namjoon gently wraps his fingers around your wrist, keeping you close. “The alternative is giving me your number and letting me know you get home safe.”

“That sounds an awful lot like an order,” you muse. “So, what would happen if I took your number, promised I’ll text, and you never heard from me again? Would I get punished?”

Something dark flashes in his eyes—perhaps your first glimpse of who he typically is, confident and dominant and very comfortable playing this game. “Something tells me you wouldn’t do that to me.”

You smirk, reaching out with your free arm to graze your nails down his side. His muscles flex under your touch, defined and solid, as he hisses. “I think that’s called your ego.” Your eyes trail lower. “Unless it’s… something else?”

“Something else?” he questions. “Didn’t take you for the shy type.”

Entranced, Namjoon watches as white teeth bite down on your bottom lip, your tongue darting out briefly to ease the sting. One brief, fleeting thought about how it’d feel to have that tongue someplace else and his cock twitches in his jeans. Barely an hour together and he’s certain you’ll be the death of him. A million little deaths he’ll willingly endure.

“Like your girls with a dirty mouth, do you?”

All he can muster is a crooked grin. “And if I say yes?”

You laugh softly. “Then I’ll ask you, kindly, to remove your fingers from my wrist and go splash some cold water on that pretty face of yours. You’re about two seconds away from coming in your jeans and not even I dislike you enough to let you embarrass yourself like that.”

His grip on you loosens. “You don’t like me? Don’t you think that’s a bit strong? You barely know me.”

“Oh, were you under the assumption this was something more?” When he doesn’t answer, you extract yourself from him and wink. “Maybe you can think about me later when you’re jerking off.”

And if he spends the rest of his evening doing exactly that? Well, that’s his business.

Namjoon spends the next two weeks doing that, actually.

Your touch is seared into his mind—the feel of your fingers tracing along his jaw, his sides, the way his body reacted to you, an obvious desperation even before he’d let it get this bad, fester this long. The urge was slowly growing out of control, and he told himself each morning that today would be the day, he’d send that stupid fucking Instagram message asking you out—

Because that’d been your play the night you’d met. As promised, you took his number and never texted, just posted a goddamn thirst trap to your Instagram story that was clearly meant for him. Because you knew he’d chase you, figure out some way to find you. Fresh out of the shower, hair wet and droplets teasing down your chest, silk camisole barely hanging on as you snapped a photo over your shoulder in your bedroom mirror. A small winking emoji in the corner as if to say yes, I made it home—alone. And since you’re alone, too, have fun touching yourself.

He’d barely been in bed ten minutes before his pants were pushed halfway down his thighs and he was spilling into his hand.

It became routine somewhere around day six. Instead of sending the message, he’d lose his resolve, fall into bed at the end of the day, and let you consume his thoughts as he got himself off. God, he’d started to get greedy—always wanted more, imagined more, and it never took long. A vague memory of the perfume you wore, a stray thought of the way it’d smell imprinted into his sheets, his skin; the hawkish look on your face as you’d studied him, trying to decide if you wanted to worship him or ruin him.

Bit late for that, Namjoon thinks as he comes into his fist. He’s already ruined.

Part of him wants you to know, wants you to see how undone he becomes just at the thought of you, almost wants you to humiliate him for what he’s just done—and his hips stutter one last time at the thought, shocking him into contemplative silence. That’s new.

Instead, he stands on shaky legs and moves to his bathroom, running a washcloth under cool water to clean off his hands. God, he’s utterly wrecked. He begs his brain to figure it out, get it together long enough to just compose a simple text asking you on a date. The inevitable rejection will quell the wildfire and he’ll finally be able to go more than a second without thinking about you, about how you’ve reduced him to a writhing, nervous mess.

His heart hammers in his chest as he fetches his phone and stares down at an empty Instagram message. Words suddenly don’t seem to make sense as he wracks his brain for a way to phrase his question that won’t make him sound like a complete fool.

I’d like to take you out tomorrow, he types, only to delete it once he realizes the only response he receives will be some variation of “I bet you would.”

Can I… he begins to type again. Quickly deletes that, too, and types May I take you out tomorrow? instead. It still doesn’t feel like enough, he’s sure you’re going to tell him no and tell him to fuck off, but that just means he won’t be disappointed when that’s exactly what happens.

Before he can overthink it, he presses ‘send’ and resists the urge to turn his phone off completely. He can’t remember the last time he was this nervous asking someone out—then again, he was usually able to skirt by on his good looks and a well-executed smolder. Not now, though. Somehow, he’s managed to become ensnared by the one person in the entire country who finds his charm repulsive and off-putting. And it’s not like he can suffer in silence, either. Hoseok had caught on quickly, sometime during the first week, because Namjoon didn’t have much time or desire to go out. He’d been able to fumble an excuse, something about working late, because he couldn’t tell him he couldn’t stop jerking off over a woman who wanted nothing to do with him and still be able to look his friend in the eye afterwards.

Their friendship doesn’t have many limits, but that’s certainly one of them.

He’s halfway to Googling “how to unsend an Instagram message” when his phone vibrates in his sinful hand, his stomach dropping to the floor when he sees it’s from you.

And clearly not meant for him.

It’s a screenshot of a selfie he’d posted weeks ago on his parents’ boat, a picturesque sunset in the background that bathed his silhouette in golden light. Namjoon knows he’s photogenic, looks damn good from all angles and has never taken a bad picture in his life, even candidly, but that one had been especially striking, so he’s not really surprised. He has, however, gone dry in the mouth at the text below it.

Tae, you don’t understand. He’s so fucking hot it pisses me off a little. He’s kind of a dickhead but I’d still fuck the shit out of him.

Oh.

Well, fuck. He certainly hadn’t been expecting that.

His fingers twitch, both to reply to the message and wrap around his cock for the umpteenth time since that night at the club. And he knows the right thing to do is pretend he hasn’t seen it, not mention it, don’t rub your face in it, because if the situation was reversed, he doesn’t figure he’d like someone ribbing him, either. But he’d be a fucking fool to pass this up, so he replies with “Oh?” and throws the winking emoji back at you.

Another ten minutes pass and he’s certain he’s blown it. And then—

He nearly blacks out at what’s on his screen. Desire needles at his skin like a wildfire destined to burn out of control as he drinks in the sight of you, all that naked, smooth skin contrasting against the crisp, white sheets you’re wrapped in. There’s just a hint of indecency, a promise of a whole lot more, and Namjoon suddenly can’t remember having seen anything so perfect, can’t focus on anything except the sound of his blood in his ears and the picture in front of him. Wonders how it’d feel to run his hands over all that bare skin; how it’d taste. What you’d sound like as he took his time unraveling you—if you would even let him.

A whimper escapes him as another message comes through.

You can’t take me out, but I might let you invite me over if you behave and keep your hands to yourself until tomorrow.

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself, already feeling his boxers begin to tent.

You break your kiss and plant your hands on his chest, pushing him backwards into the wall. You’re a vision in crimson red before him, the lingerie leaving nothing to the imagination besides a plethora of unholy thoughts. Fingers twitch at his sides, itching to reach out and grab you.

You take a step back, just out of his reach. “You’re a very dirty boy, aren’t you?” you tease, your head cocking to the side as you take him in. “Can’t ever keep your hands to yourself.”

Lighting himself on fire would feel the same, Namjoon thinks. His blood burns in his veins, thick with such a heavy desire that it consumes him. He’s still fully dressed yet completely unraveled, so hard it’s painful, and he needs you to keep talking, needs you to touch him, needs you—

“Baby,” he whines, his hips betraying him as they thrust against nothing. “Please.”

A slow, sultry smile. “Didn’t take you for the begging type.” He groans again at his words being parroted back to him.

“I’m not.”

“And now?” you ask. “Would you beg for it?”

“Yes,” he says without hesitation. “Whatever you want.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to give someone that kind of power? You never know what they may do with it.”

The words are out of his mouth before he can reconsider. “Baby, no one has complete power over me.”

He knows immediately he’s fucked, knows it even more when a mischievous smile stretches across your face. You’re so composed, just standing there in front of him as if he wouldn’t drop to his knees and do whatever you asked of him, like you have all the time in the world and this is just a minor inconvenience. As if you aren’t taking him apart at the seams, popping each stitch one by one and letting him hang in freefall. Making him sweat it out.

Beating him at his own game.

“Is that so?” You take a step closer, study him. See the way his eyes flutter closed in anticipation, the intake of breath, almost a plea. “Should we put those words to the test?”

You drop to your knees languidly, still too far away, and look up at him through dark lashes, your tongue rolling across your lips just enough to moisten them and state your intent. “What do you want, Namjoon?”

His name sounds obscene in your mouth. “I—” His brain and his body are at war, too much information to process that he can’t find the words, can’t formulate a single coherent thought. “I don’t, I—”

“Surely someone so in control could use their words?” He’s fucking ruined. “I’m on my knees in front of you and you can’t think of a single thing you’d like me to do?”

“I want your mouth,” he breathes.

“That’s not very specific. There’s lots of things my mouth can do.”

“Like talk a lot of shit,” he responds tartly.

“Yes, but that’s nowhere near as fun as the others.” You huff a laugh as you move close enough to rake your fingernails down his thighs. “Take these off.”

You’re still staring up at him from your place on the floor, your rapt attention doing fuck-all to help the way his hands are trembling. It’s not the first time he’s had a woman on her knees in front of him, but it’s the first time he can’t stop shaking long enough to pop the button on his jeans and drag them down his legs. Usually skilled, deft fingers rendered completely useless.

“You could make yourself useful and help me, you know,” he quips. Another failed attempt at the button before he finally gets it; something between a relieved groan and a hiss as he drags the zipper over his strained erection.

“Would you rather I undo your pants or make you come down my throat?” Namjoon is too dazed to answer. “You need to think before you speak, babe. That smart mouth will get you into trouble.”

“I’m already in a world of it, baby,” he responds, moving to palm himself.

You catch his wrist and move it back to his side. “No touching, yourself or me. You touch me and I stop.”

He barely resists the urge to ask what in the hell is wrong with you, can’t you see how desperate he is, how he’s already at the edge and you’ve barely touched him, that you’ve already won, might as well give in and stop fucking around.

Instead, he barely manages a nod. Plants his hands against the cold plaster of the wall at his back.

And waits.

You’re still kneeling on the floor in front of him, but the smug grin is new. He cocks an eyebrow, whether in question or challenge he isn’t sure, but you ignore it all the same. “How in control are you?” you ask.

“What?”

“No one has complete control over you, right?” You move so you’re laying back, propped up slightly on your elbows. “Would you be in control if I took this off?” you ask, tracing a finger along the lace trim of your thong.

His breath feels thick in his throat. “Yes.”

Hips jut into the air as you shimmy the garment down the expanse of your legs. If he was having trouble breathing before, he’s damn near suffocating now as he takes you in again, laying bare before him. Your nails graze along your skin—slowly, teasingly—and he watches, hypnotized, as they near your core. A hitched breath, wondering if you’re going to touch yourself as he watches. A silent prayer the answer is yes.

And it is. Fuck, it is.

You repeat your question—“Are you in control now?”—and he doesn’t know the answer. He is and isn’t, knows the reality doesn’t quite match up with what he wants to say. It’s a struggle just to tread water, let alone think up some smart response to hide how untethered he really is, to maintain that façade.

“Baby, I—”

“You want to touch yourself, don’t you?”

He groans, his fingers grasping at nothing as they try to dig into the wall. It’s all too much. Sensory overload. The sight of you, the lilt in your voice as you tease him. He’s always prided himself on his control, his dominance, and now that the trap door has given way beneath him and he’s left suspended, he’s simultaneously never felt more terrified and more alive.

“Yes,” he finally chokes out.

Your eyes lock on his as you say, “Go ahead.”

The first stroke brings such relief he’s certain he’s going to black out. A loud, unabashed moan comes with the second. The third—god, the third has his toes curling against the wood floor, that familiar heat pooling in his belly, ready to engulf everything in its path. His thighs begin to tremble as he keeps working himself over, and it’s not a second later that—

It’s nearly the afternoon when Namjoon jolts awake, his heart feeling ready to burst right through his chest. He doesn’t bother peeking under the covers, already knows, without having to look, what a mess he’s made of himself. Again. It hadn’t even been this bad when he was a teenager, and it’s this thought that has him stumbling to the shower to wash away his indiscretions. Sets the temperature all the way to cold as he steps inside, standing right under the spray.

Pathetic, really, how he can’t stop thinking about you. Can’t stop replaying in his mind how you’d felt, how you’d made him feel. The feel of your skin on the pads of his fingers, against his own; the smell of you, the taste of your mouth. The sight of you open and wanting and coming undone in front of him. If you’d managed to overwhelm every one of his senses in a dream, what was the real thing going to be like?

You’d told him to keep his hands to himself, but not even the sting of the freezing water is enough to cool him down, so he thinks about it once, twice, nearly three times before he slips his hand around his cock. What you don’t know won’t kill you, and he’s certainly not planning on coming clean.

Just needs to take the edge off. It’d assuredly be worse to walk around his place all day with an erection, he reasons.

 The wait is torturous. Time itself seems to betray him, the clock barely moving every time he sneaks a glance at his phone. If he goes to hell when he dies, it’ll just be this, he thinks—the maddeningly slow wait for a booty call he can’t stop thinking about.

Because that’s all it is. He has to remind himself of this when it starts to feel too real, too comfortable, like he’s waiting for a date or something more serious than whatever this is. You don’t like him, don't like the way he carries himself or any aspect of his personality at all, really. Usually he’d be fine with a quick fling, a casual hook up or two to blow off some steam. But he’s a relationship, commitment kind of guy at heart, so despite his best efforts, the thought of this becoming something more still creeps in every now and then. A daydream.

Send me your address.

Nerves engulf him as the message comes through, and he must type and retype his response a dozen times before he finally gets it right.

Half hour.

The waiting game again. He moves around his place frantically, tidying and straightening, lights a candle, changes into something more presentable than joggers.

There’s a knock at the door and he swallows hard, tries to muster up some of his old confidence again. This isn’t him. Namjoon has never been reduced to a pining, uncertain mess, and he’s so off-kilter he barely manages to make it to the door before the third series of knocks.

As he pulls it open, his face drops unceremoniously. You aren’t standing on the other side, ready to greet him with a sultry grin. Instead, there’s a gangly-looking teenager in a uniform, his hat askew as he holds a pizza box.

“Uh, hi. Can I help you?” Namjoon asks, peering around the kid to look out into the hallway.

“I have a small sausage for you,” comes the response. Nasally and bored.

Namjoon chokes, the choice of words catching him off-guard. “I didn’t order a pizza.”

“Are you Kim Namjoon-ssi?” He nods. “Then this is for you.” The kid tries shoving the box into Namjoon’s hands, but he takes a step back.

“I promise you, I did not order a pizza.”

“Look,” the kid sighs, all politeness tossed aside immediately, “it’s already been paid for. Just take the damn box and throw it away if you don’t want it. I really don’t give a shit what you do with it, but I’ve got other deliveries to make.”

Eyes narrowed, Namjoon grabs the box and slams the door, opting to ignore the muffled you could’ve at least tipped me, you cheap asshole from the other side. Tosses the pizza onto his kitchen counter and stalks towards his bedroom where he’d left his phone.

Did you send me a fucking pizza? he types.

Told you not to touch yourself, comes your response.

It’s another week before he can convince you to see him.

A week of borderline begging—because he refuses to actually do so—and teasing and whispered confessions he doesn’t think twice about. He wants you. He wants you so badly he’s dizzy with it, and he’s done playing games. His desire is out there already and it’s obvious. No point in acting coy now.

You agree under the condition the two of you meet at the club. Have a few drinks with Jimin and Hoseok. No doubt to prolong his suffering, Namjoon figures, but he agrees all the same, willing to play along. He just wants to see you; hopes maybe being face-to-face will extinguish some of the heat.

But it doesn’t.

Of course it doesn’t.

You’re barely in each other’s company twenty minutes before he lets you drag him down a quiet corridor and into an empty bathroom. You let him press you against the sink, dress hiked up around your thighs; let him press a desperate, searing kiss to your mouth, all tongue and teeth and sighs of relief.

The first time scratches the itch. It’s quick—almost embarrassingly so—and rough, right there in the club, and all Namjoon can think about is the taste of you, how all those daydreams hadn’t done you a lick of justice. Swears stars pop behind his eyelids and he can hear a choir. You had been stunning in all his fantasies, but up close, in person, you’re so much better. As if your body is meant only to bring him to his knees, to make him surrender.

Namjoon very quickly realizes he’s got a problem on his hands.

There’s no way he’ll be able to let you go—already can’t stomach the thought of you being with anyone else. He doesn’t want to be with anyone else, and he curses at himself for letting it get this far, for letting someone ruin him this way. He knows without having to hear you say it that you aren’t the type to be tied down. Probably goes running at the first sign of attachment. But he can’t help himself, torn between touching himself to the memory of the way you felt around him and the thought of what it might be like to have something more.

The second time you come to him. Press him against the wall in the entryway and drop to your knees, your mouth working him into a frenzy before he can barely mutter a greeting. Fingers itch to tangle into your hair when he remembers his dream, wonders if he’s allowed to touch you like that, hopes that maybe he isn’t.

He wants you to destroy him.

“Baby,” he says, a fractured moan punctuating the sound of your name that follows. A hand joins your mouth in moving along his length and he swears. “Baby.”

There’s an obscene noise as you release him from your mouth, a trail of spit barely connecting the two of you as you look up at him with a gaze that’s been seared into his memory for weeks. “What?”

“I—fuck.” Your hand’s still working him, still doing that thing where it twists on the upstroke that has him feeling like all the air’s been punched from his lungs. “I want you,” he breathes. “I want—wanna make you come.”

A smile betrays you, the corners of your mouth turning up just enough for him to catch. “Do you want it?” Your free hand moves to his thigh, kneading at the cords of muscle there. Fingers dig into the crease at his hip, the ditch of his knee. “Or do you need it?”

“Yes,” is all he manages to say.

You sit back on your haunches, looking straight out of his wet dream as you stare up at him, bottom lip tugged between your teeth. “Go sit on the couch,” you instruct.

If he’s ever moved faster, he can’t recall when. You follow slowly, items of clothing dropping behind you as you go, only your matching lingerie left by the time you reach him. His breath catches again, both in awe and in anticipation. Yes, you’re stunning, but Namjoon can’t remember anyone else having ever invoked such a strong response from him. Every part of him needs you.

You straddle him, legs anchored at his sides as he grabs the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss. You’ve kissed dozens of times before, desperate, more teeth than anything else. This one he’s determined to take slow, take his time, savor you.

And as soon as he feels you tense, as soon as you pull away and move your lips to a spot just below his ear, he knows he has the answer to a question he never bothered to ask.

Teeth graze his earlobe. “I’ve been thinking about these,” you say, your palms dragging up and down his thighs. “Wanna get myself off on you.” And just like that, all those thoughts of something else are pushed to the back of his mind.

A loud whine escapes him, hips rocking forward to press his erection against your clothed center. Decides to take a risk and dig his fingers into your hips, a stray hope he might leave a mark, have just that bit of claim to you. Uses his leverage to situate you onto one thigh.

“By all means,” he says, lips moving against your collarbone. Hooks the fabric of your thong to the side, hands still on your hips to begin moving you. “But I want to feel it. All of it. Want to watch you make a mess on my leg.”

You move slowly at first, trying to find a balance between what you need and the tempo Namjoon is setting. A relieved moan when you find the right combination, and Namjoon matches it when he feels how wet you are. You move unabashedly, plant your hands on his chest as your hips grind faster, more frantic. Namjoon covers your hands with his own, fingers moving over yours as he digs your nails into his chest, drags them down far enough he knows they’ll leave marks. Thrusts at the thought of being marked by you, of having a reminder to come back to in the morning when you’ll inevitably be gone.

“Fuck, Joon,” you moan. “Feels so good.”

Hands still covering yours, Namjoon moves one to his neck, praising you as you tighten your grip around his throat. “That’s it. Just like that, baby. You look so beautiful using me like this.”

Namjoon can tell how close you are long before you ever bother to tell him. Sees the slight falter of your motions, feels you press yourself harder against him, desperate for more friction, the light sheen of sweat forming at your brow. He wonders, briefly, if you’ll actually let go, if you trust him enough to let him bear witness to you coming undone.

His question is answered as you break into a shaking, gasping mess, collapsing into his arms as he wraps them around you, tangling a hand in your hair and pressing kisses to your temple. Rains praise down upon you, tells you how thankful he is to be able to witness it. Wants to commit all of it to memory—your heaving chest, trembling thighs, the sounds you make as you come down from your high, the dazed look in your eyes as you open them and meet his own.

Knows he’s going to say something stupid, so he crashes his lips to yours, hungry for you in a way that honestly terrifies him. A way he’s never wanted anyone else. And he knows that’s the catch with you, knows this has an expiration date, and so he pushes this thought to the furthest corner of his mind. Knows he has to stay in the moment lest it all comes spiraling down around him.

He grabs the back of your thighs and stands from the couch, waits for you to wrap your legs around his waist before he moves toward his bedroom. Isn’t sure he’ll be able to make it, thinks about just fucking you into the wall in the hallway, but judging from the state of his leg, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to afford the dry cleaning bill if the two of you stay on the couch.

Obscene words spill from your mouth with each step he takes and he spares a moment to marvel at his self-restraint. Wonders when he’d acquired it, because he seems to have lost all of his old sensibilities when it comes to you. “Want you so bad,” you say, words nearly a purr as you speak them into the crook of his neck. “Just fuck me right here.” You use his grip on you to roll your hips, slick center gliding along the length of his cock.

He groans at the contact, lets your words wash over him and bathe him in your indecency. You roll your hips again, a lewd temptation and always a challenge. You want to tempt him straight to the edge and watch as he goes over, want him to regain control and lose it over and over again, want to ruin him for anyone who comes after you. And Namjoon knows you’re going to, knows this has already gone too far despite only having just begun, and he feels the anger seep in alongside the lust, though he can’t tell who it’s directed at. Probably himself, but that doesn’t reign him in.

He presses you against the wall of his bedroom, presses a searing kiss to your mouth—that dirty, unrelenting mouth of yours that never seems to stop—and he wants to kiss you breathless. Wants to shut you up, wants you to surrender, to beg, wants a million things he will never get.

And, all along, you were right. He always wants. Wants you, wants more, wants impossible things. Despite having you exactly where he wants you right now, you’re going to leave. You’re going to leave and he’s going to be left behind, wanting and destroyed and longing, and he’s none too impressed to be on this side for once.

Because, as he moves you to the bed and drapes his body atop yours, your words echo in his mind:

Want you so bad.

Want.

Not need. Never will be need.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he says, hands everywhere at once, the feel of you beneath him nothing more than an answered prayer. His fingers move lower to your clit, teasing, circling slowly. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want,” you drawl, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging, and he gasps at the sting, “to watch you. I want to see exactly how good I make you feel.” His hips move of their own accord, pressing you further into the mattress. He’s so fucking hard, can barely believe he’s still conscious, and he’s absolutely drunk on the reality of you. “Do you want that? Want me to ride you until you come?”

“Fuck,” he moans. “Yes.”

You pull at his hair again, forcing him to look at you. “Then say it. Tell me you want it.”

“Fuck, baby, yes.” Slips a finger inside your cunt, desperate to make you as needy as he is. Pumps once, twice, before he adds a second. “Want you to make me come. Want all of it. Everything.”

A wordless demand for him to roll over as you nudge his shoulder, but not before your hips jerk upwards to meet his fingers, seeking him even though you’d never dare admit it. He smirks down at you, cheeks dimpling, moves his thumb back to your clit just to watch you writhe. Traces slow circles again just to listen to the way your breath hitches, to hear the small, gasping pants against his neck. Applies a hint more pressure just to feel your muscles clench tighter around him, the grind of you against his hand, hungry for more even when he’s ready to give you everything you want.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” he asks, delighting in the whines spilling from your mouth. “First my leg, now my fingers. I think you’re getting greedy, baby.”

You glare at him through lidded eyes. “Maybe I should hold it in. Think twice about stroking that massive ego of yours.”

He finds your wrist and grasps it loosely, moving it down his body to his cock. “You can stroke something else, if you’d prefer.”

You take him in your hand, pumping slowly. Gather the beads of precome at the head and move down the shaft and back up again. “Notice you didn’t mention anything about it being massive. Is that what the ego’s for? To compensate?”

Anyone else and he might be offended. But, coming from you, it’s just a challenge. Another jab. The game you love to play and have become very, very good at. A lesser man might not be able to handle it, but Namjoon… Well, it’d been his game first, after all, and he knows better than anyone that the only way to win is to not play.

So, he withdraws his fingers right as you’re at the edge. Makes a show of putting them in his mouth and sucking them clean, does his best to ignore the obscene jolt of arousal as you mutter a “Jesus fucking Christ” under your breath. “That’s not a very nice thing to say, baby.”

You roll your eyes, releasing his cock from your grasp. “So what? I’m being punished?”

“Only nice girls get to come.”

He’s on his back before he realizes he’s moved. Your fingers are wrapped tight around his wrists, pinning them above his head. A truly wicked grin forms on your face and he wonders, briefly, how anyone survives you. How no one has combusted under the sheer force of you and that look and everything that comes after it. Namjoon wants to burn beneath you for centuries, or however long you’ll allow.

Your body moves languidly up his own until your core is positioned over his face. “Maybe so, but nice girls don’t take what they want, either,” is all you manage to say before he wrangles his wrists out of your grasp and grabs onto your hips roughly, pulling you down against his mouth.

The first kiss he presses against you is soft, teasing. You groan, curse at him for being a tease, and press harder against his face. He flattens his tongue as he laps at you, desperate and hungry for your taste, pausing every so often to slap your ass, tell you to take exactly what you need from him. As you move above him, hips rolling against his mouth, his own body writhes at the heat between them, the brazen frenzy that’s taken over you.

He’s not sure how long he spends between your legs, but he knows it’s not long enough. He’d spend forever there if he could, drunk on it. You taste divine, and he tells you as much over and over, words spilling from his mouth when you aren’t putting it to use.

Thighs, still anchored on the sides of his head, begin to tremble, energy still pent up from the orgasm he’d denied you. He considers doing it again, payback for all your teasing and that smart mouth, but his body betrays him before he can even make up his mind, tongue flat and anchored against your clit as you grind and roll your hips across it. God, he never thought he’d get off on being used like this, always thought he needed to be in control to enjoy sex, but nothing about you has ever really made sense to him except that he can’t get enough.

As you come a second time, all he can do is gaze up at you in admiration. He wants you to take the piss out of him, loves watching the twinkle in your eyes as you scheme up some tart response. He wants the denial, the what-ifs, the second-guessing that always ends with you a blissed-out, moaning mess on top of him. Even now, when you’re exactly where he wants you most, it’s not enough. He still wants more.

He maneuvers so you’re eye-to-eye. Allows himself only a second of pride at how disheveled you are before he wraps his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you into a rough kiss. Receives a whimper as you taste yourself on his lips, his tongue, his face. Blindly, you reach behind you for his cock, hand wrapping tightly around the base as you pump him. Whispers something about returning the favor, about making him feel good, but Namjoon’s focus went to shit hours ago. Nothing exists in this moment—in this room, perhaps in his entire world—except you.

“Come on, baby,” he urges, situating himself against the headboard. Even though you’re inches apart, he can feel the heat emanating from your cunt and his cock twitches, seeking your warmth. “We’ve gotten a bit sidetracked. I believe you promised to ride me until I came.”

You grip him again, aligning his length with your center. The head of his cock teases against wet folds and he moans, earning him another knowing smirk. “Beg me,” you say.

“What?”

Another roll of your hips, another fractured gasp. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

His brows furrow in annoyance. Says your name in a way that sounds like a slur. “This isn’t funny.”

You lean down, hair draping your face. “Who’s laughing?” you ask before you lick a long stripe up his neck that causes goosebumps to erupt all over his body. “Beg me.”

“Please,” he breathes, the word sounding more familiar than he ever thought it could. “Baby, please, I—I fucking need you so much.”

“Do you?” you tease, fingertips tracing the ridges of his muscles.

Namjoon grabs your chin, forces you to look at him. “Stop teasing me and ride my fucking cock.”

Eyes go wide, pupils dilated at his dominance, the flaring of your nostrils giving away exactly what you think of it. But you smile all the same and sink down on him agonizingly slowly, take the first inch when you say, “As you order, sir,” sardonically.

You feel like heaven.

He’s not sure he’ll ever get used to it—not sure he’d even want to. Being able to experience you over and over, every time feeling like it’s the first… Namjoon isn’t a religious man, but having the privilege of having you so intimately is the closest he’ll ever get to seeing god.

“Fuck,” he moans.

Blinding, wet heat surrounds him as you take all of his cock. Don’t bother taking any time to adjust, just start moving immediately. His eyes roll back in time with the roll of your hips, back and forth the way you rode his thigh. One hand on your hip to brace you, the other palms at your breast, rolls your nipple between his fingers. The moan that escapes you is borderline pornographic. Lust overtakes him, primal and raw, and he moves his hand to join his other at your hips, holding you in place as he thrusts into you roughly.

“A masterpiece,” he praises. “You look so fucking beautiful bouncing on my cock. I’ll never get tired of watching you.”

He’s determined to make this as good for you as it is for him, determined to redeem his first performance. Tries to focus on anything he can besides the sharp slap of your skin meeting, the way your body clamps around him like a vice. But you love to torture him, don’t you, because you’re just as determined to put on a show. You toss your hair back, preen under his watch. You’re an absolute goddess, the most beautiful thing Namjoon has ever seen in his entire life. Perhaps stronger than his determination to make this good for you is his determination to keep you.

He’s a jealous man. He knows this about himself, has had plenty of time to make peace with it. And he knew from the second he laid eyes on you that he didn’t want to share with anyone else, knew he didn’t have the right, but now he thinks the thought alone might kill him.

So, he rolls you over, pins you beneath him so he can fuck you exactly the way he wants. “What are you doing?” you ask, eyebrows raised as you study him.

Proving something to you, he wants to say. Wants to be the best you’ll ever have, ruin every other partner for you. Wants so many things his head is swimming, and as he pushes into your tight, wet heat again, he wonders if he’ll be okay if this is the only one he ever gets.

His pace is slow, sensuous. “Fucking you,” he finally replies. “That alright?”

A loud moan as he adjusts the angle. “More than alright.”

He keeps on like this until he feels himself start to unravel. Starts in his toes, moves to his stomach where it branches out, warm and enveloping. Still, he stays even-keeled despite everything in his body screaming for more. Yours, too—the curling of your toes, your nails digging into his back, pulling at his hair. Your coarse, ragged breaths as you ask for more, more, always more.

“You feel so fucking good,” he growls into your neck. “Incredible, baby. Touch yourself for me. Make yourself come on my cock.”

You moan again. “Why? Can’t get me off yourself?” you tease, but it’s short-lived as he finally increases his pace, slamming into you hard before you can utter another word.

“You were saying?”

He expects another snappy reply, your smile catching him off-guard as he looks down at you. You’re touching yourself just like he’d said to, fingers working at your clit in slow, lazy circles. Another growl as he drinks in the sight of you.

“You like watching me, don’t you?” Namjoon nods. “Then tell me: how do I look?”

He squeezes his eyes shut, knows he’s not going to be able to hold off the longer he stares. “Like perfection.” You seem to whimper at his words. Just another sound he commits to memory.

A few more thrusts before his movements become erratic. He can feel how close you are, wills himself the strength to hold on just a minute longer—plans that are immediately forgotten as he feels your orgasm hit you, your walls clamping around him so tight his vision goes black.

“Fuck, fuck, oh fuck,” you cry out. Namjoon nuzzles into your neck as he follows you over the edge, coming so hard he can’t remember his own name.

Minutes—maybe hours, maybe even days—pass between the two of you, not a sound to be heard except jagged, labored breathing. Once he regains some semblance of consciousness, Namjoon pulls back enough to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

“You’re going to be my undoing, baby.”

His memory’s not so great, but Namjoon thinks he properly falls for you the tenth time you meet up.

It’d been nearing eleven-o’clock on a Tuesday night, thunder rumbling off in the distance, when you texted to ask if you could come by, which had been out of the ordinary. The two of you never met during the work week—a rule you had never clearly stated but one Namjoon had quickly picked up on nonetheless—so he hadn’t known what to expect when you knocked on his door.

“Bad day,” was all you’d said as you shrugged off your coat and pressed a hungry kiss to his mouth.

He’d wanted to ask why. Wanted to know what’d happened, but it wasn’t his business, your relationship not like that. You’d come over for sex, not for him to play therapist. Namjoon knew this, but as he pushed the fabric of your underwear to the side and pressed his mouth to you, he also knew your heart wasn’t completely in it, so he’d told you to make yourself comfortable in his bed while he made some tea. (He hadn’t bothered to mention he’d picked up your favorite brand while out shopping the weekend before, of course, because that would’ve been weird. It would’ve implied things. So, he’d simply fixed your tea and ignored your questioning stare when you took a cautious sip and hoped you knew he cared about you beyond the little arrangement the two of you had found yourselves in.)

(He hadn’t bothered to tell you that, either, of course.)

But the mind is a traitorous thing. As much as he’d wanted to stay logical, his brain and heart teamed up to conspire against him, to wonder and hope for things that couldn’t possibly have been true. Because, as he fell asleep wrapped around you, he’d found comfort in knowing you’d had a bad day and came to him.

Somewhere along the line, things had shifted. The two of you started laughing together, forming little inside jokes. Started texting about things beyond “your place or mine?” You became softer. Not any more available, at least emotionally, but you’d seemed to relax in his presence. Let down a wall or two.

And it’s been downhill ever since, really.

Your meetings have grown more difficult. Feelings had become involved months ago, and Namjoon comes close to admitting them out loud nearly every time you’re together. Sometimes, on Fridays, he lies and says he has to work late; on Saturdays, he has to “take an emergency weekend appointment” or “make a trip back home” to visit his parents for pretend birthdays and anniversary parties. He knows the two of you have an expiration date and he does what he can to prolong it, even when it’s dishonest.

Until, eventually, he can’t anymore.

Until he’s finally out of lies and agrees to meet you at the club, where he has one too many drinks to hide how stupidly smitten with you he is; too many drinks to forget that you don’t feel the same.

Until he’s so drunk he can barely stand and you offer to split a cab with him back to his place to make sure he doesn’t pass out and choke on his own vomit and he declines.

Until you tell him to stop being so goddamn stubborn because you’re just trying to help, you’ve seen him this fucked up before and it’s nothing to be embarrassed of, he’s too drunk for you to feel okay sending him home alone.

Until he tells you no, he isn’t embarrassed, he just can’t be around you any longer because he’s fallen for you and you don’t feel the same and he can’t keep hurting himself by trying to keep you.

Until everything comes tumbling out of his mouth and he thinks he feels the world tilt.

Then, you don’t say anything and just stare at him with a slack jaw and a mildly displeased expression as he calls Hoseok and slurs all his words when he asks him to come pick him up.

Then, he convinces himself you only looked that way because someone like you isn’t used to being rejected, that’s it, nothing more.

Then, Hoseok shows up and Namjoon doesn’t bother to look back as he leaves, missing the tears well up in your eyes.

When he wakes up on Sunday afternoon with a mind-splitting hangover, he remembers just enough of the night before to marinate in his self-loathing. He’d fucked up a good thing. Sure, you and him hadn’t put a label on whatever the two of you were, never bothered to define it, but you didn’t really have to. The no feelings part of the contract had been implicitly stated from the beginning, highlighted in neon yellow and underlined for added emphasis.

But there’s relief, too. He’d told the truth, was hurting himself to keep you, and now it’s over. He doesn’t have to worry about the unknowns anymore—what (or who) you’re doing and how you feel about him.

Because weeks of radio silence go by, so that tells him everything he needs to know. He knew you wouldn’t chase him so he’s not disappointed, but he’d allowed himself a strand or two of hope nonetheless that still feel crushing at times. Mostly on Friday evenings after he showers off his day and climbs into an empty bed, just wanting to hear his phone chime with a text from you asking to get together. Those strands of hope feel worse when he falls asleep alone, no unread texts except some stupid memes from Jungkook he doesn’t understand.

It doesn’t help that Hoseok’s properly seeing Jimin now, so he can’t fully escape you. Still hears bits and bobs about you and what you’re up to, still sees you in the background of Hoseok’s Instagram posts from parties Namjoon declines to attend.

He doesn’t know how long it’s supposed to take to get over a fling, but he can’t help but feel it’s taking an awfully long time.

Another month goes by. Nearly five since the first time you two had met. Namjoon starts to feel normal again; stops waiting for texts that never come and stops avoiding Hoseok because there’s only one thing he wants to talk about, and Namjoon hasn’t quite been in the right place to hear it. But he figures another four weeks have done him some good so he agrees to meet him at their favorite restaurant and they drink until they’re tipsy.

He doesn’t ask about you and Hoseok doesn’t mention a word, just says things are going well with Jimin and he’s planning on making it official soon. Namjoon doesn’t have to fake his enthusiasm and it feels nice. Normal. He doesn’t even make a thinly-veiled threat when the check comes and he sees Hoseok’s back to his old tricks, ordering all the most expensive items on the menu when it’s Namjoon’s turn to pay, just hands his credit card to the server.

It’s another four days when someone knocks on his door at nearly ten-thirty at night. There’s a sinking feeling in his stomach that tells him exactly who’s on the other side before he can pull the door open.

“Oh,” he breathes, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice even though seeing you is anything but.

It bothers him how affected by you he still is, how you’re still able to take his breath away despite not seeing you for months. And you’re still stunning, of course, so it makes sense he’d still go dizzy at the sight of you. “What are you doing here?” he asks.

Cautious eyes stare up at him as you swallow. “Can I come in?”

He fidgets, weight shifting from side to side. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Braces himself for a quip that doesn’t come. Instead, you shrug and avert your eyes, staring blankly at the wall outside his door. “No, probably not,” you admit. Your tone is quiet, almost soft. That signature smug look is nowhere to be found, and months ago Namjoon would’ve loved this, would’ve delighted at seeing you so vulnerable, but now it just feels all wrong.

He coughs to clear his throat. “Did you, uh—is there something I can do for you?”

“I came to apologize,” you say, though it almost comes out more like a question. “I should’ve called sooner.”

Namjoon blinks. Of all the things he anticipated coming out of your mouth, an apology wasn’t one of them. “Oh. Well, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who—” Ended things, his brain finishes, but he can’t bring himself to say the words. The two of you were only fucking, and ‘ending things’ makes it sound like more than what it was.

“Right,” you agree, though he can tell you don’t want to. “Okay. Well, I guess I’ll just…”

Unsure of what else to do, Namjoon simply nods. His fingers are digging into the door frame so hard they’ve started to turn white, and it’s all he can do to hide how badly they’re shaking. He’s anxious. Why is he so anxious? It only gets worse as he watches you exhale a steadying breath and turn on your heel, not bothering to look back at him.

His brain is screaming at him to go after you. After all, hadn’t he just spent months wishing for this exact thing to happen? But that kind of thing is only meant to happen in movies to people who are in love, and after all this time, he still hasn’t got a clue of where he stands with you. Showing up at his place unannounced should mean something, but you hadn’t pushed when he declined to invite you in, so he figures it was simply for a belated goodbye fuck. But…

“Hey!” he yells down the hallway. There’s relief when you pause and turn around, even though you stay where you are, don’t come closer, but that’s okay—you don’t need to. “Why did you really come here?”

A slow, neutral smile graces your lips. Not sad, but not happy, either. “Guess I figured things out a little late.”

Namjoon’s brows knit together, feels the crease between them. “What, that you miss fucking me?” He doesn’t mean for it to sound so brash and crude, but he supposes it needs to be said regardless. If any of his neighbors happen to overhear him say it, well, he also supposes they would’ve heard everything that came before, too.

“Of course I miss fucking you,” you reply, not bothering to lower your voice at all, “but I think I miss everything else a little more.”

“Everything else?”

“You bought my favorite tea,” you shrug. “And let me in when I had a bad day.”

He still doesn’t understand. “You told me you didn’t like me,” he says. “I wasn’t aware that’d changed.”

“Because I hadn’t told you.”

“And that’s why you’re here now? To tell me… what, exactly? That you don’t dislike me anymore?”

You seem unable to help yourself as you snort. Take a few steps closer until the two of you are nearly touching. “I came to ask if you’d like to go to dinner with me.”

“Right now?” he asks, clearly confused. “It’s nearly eleven-o’clock. I don’t think anywhere worth going is still open.”

“Well, if all else fails,” you quip, that smug grin brilliant as it returns, “we can always order in a pizza.”

Consequences be damned, Namjoon grabs the back of your neck and pulls your lips to his own, desperate to feel his mouth against yours again. Feels nostalgic at the taste of you, the feel—smiles against your lips when it’s all the same as he remembers. Familiar, like coming home. Revels in the way his heart nearly bursts out of his chest when you smile back.

You kiss for what feels like hours. Until you’re both weak in the knees and breathless, breaking apart only to gaze at one another stupidly and punch-drunk.

Namjoon presses a final kiss to the top of your head as he lifts you, not bothering to hide the megawatt smile on his face when you wrap your legs around his waist. “Pizza sounds good.”

“Let’s get a large sausage this time,” you offer, giggling into his neck.

It sounds like the best idea Namjoon has ever heard.

Thank you for reading! My inbox is always open if you’d like to leave feedback. I’d love to hear your thoughts! ❤

[hauntedpenguinobservation]

Carpe Noctem - Intro Post

DEMO - tba

You are a nobody. A supposedly ordinary human in a world full of powerful beings. Your life is all in all pretty average if not bordering on mind-numbing, like watching paint dry... That is until you were kidnapped and tossed into one especially small carriage to be delivered somewhere only the ancients knew of.

From now on nothing will ever be the same and you need to adapt to the ever-changing outside world as fast as possible. All the while trying to decipher your past and with that your part in an every-growing political conflict that borders to develop into an all out war the world has yet to see.

General content warnings: Bigotry & prejudice, horror elements, interspecies awkwardness, explicit language, depictions of violence, injuries, blood and death, explicit sexual content (if selected), flashbacks of a dark past to unveil, sprinkled with some homophobia here and there & general an unfair treatment of people with disabilities.

FEATURES

-> customizable MC (name, pronouns, appearance, identity)

-> semi-set personality due to evolve (MCs reclusive upbringing)

-> 5 characters to romance (3 in book 1, not sure if the other two will follow, they'll probably be fully romanceable in book 2)

-> POVs of the ROs included

-> an open-minded author that is inclined to change NPCs to fully fledged ROs depending on the general opinion/wishes of readers

-> an emotional roller coaster, all in all nothing for ppl that want a light-hearted theme

-> later on you'll be able to choose part of your race (vampires, merpeople, demons, shapeshifters, phoenixes -and many more) & with that you can determine and further develop your special skillset.

romanceable characters:

the master [Alois|Alice|Alix] (m|f|n) 24 winters

Aloof, cold eyes and reclusive as fuck. And your esteemed master -as if any of you actually want this dynamic... A hates you and your position, especially the hidden context it supplies to everyone they meet...

A has silver eyes that always seem distant, defined cheek bones with mostly soft facial features and long, silver hair. A wears fine dark clothing without other prominent features to despict their wealth.

Content warnings for A's route: denial of feelings aka one of the slowest burns imaginable, domestic violence, implied/referenced rape/non-con, anxiety attacks, self-harm, angst & hurt/comfort

the protector [Leto] (m|f|n) too many to count

Leto is a raven-like creature most would describe as monstrous-looking. They are rarely seen and the few moments they are, death is certain. For many commoners it's enough to see one of Leto's black feathers to warrant a swift escape.

Their past eludes them and you have to wonder - why does some antics of them seem kinda...familiar?

Content warnings for Leto's route: survivor-guilt, body dysphoria, touch-starved, angst, hurt/comfort, captivity & enslavement, torture, ptsd

the assassin [Zane|Zoey] (m|f) 28 winters

Z is everything their mother wanted them to be. Her own personal weapon. One she is now inclined to use for her vendetta against you.

They have dark brown hair with intelligent hazel eyes that seem to observe their surroundings constantly. They were raised with stories about you, stories you know nothing about. How can it be that Z seems to know more of you and your family than you yourself?

Should it worry you that they sound extremely resolute in stating their sole purpose is to rid the world of your existance?

Content warnings for Z's route: enemies to frenemies to lovers, eating disorder, alcohol-addiction, a tendency of morbid jealousy, past emotional abuse & manipulation

??? [redacted]

??? [also redacted]

more info tba

Small note of the author:

Everything is slow burn in this - even the character customization, cause I want to add those moments seamlessly into the story.

I tend to take my time. You can expect me to heavily focus on the characters and their feelings, with a slight disregard to describing the environment and such. I work with minimalistic efforts to still give a sense of what I imagine everything to be but with the intention to leave fine details to the reader's own imagination.

I'll try to be considerate of everyone's preferences, especially in the more kinky parts of the story. There'll be versions for more assertive characters as well as more passive one's. Though I should add that the ROs all have their own set of bias that they prefer. However there will be growth throughout the story, including that.

The gravity of your choices will intensify throughout book 1, especially as you get to know the Circle and the Court and every other political hive of intrigue.

And yes. You can die. The ROs can die. Almost everyone will be able to at some point, I guess. Though I don't like the idea of writing a total distopia, don't expect me to change my mind regarding that one that easily.

More infos will be added over time. I'll post lore snippets of my sketchbook soon, like the worldmap, the general outlines of the Circle & the Court, the different races and such.

Asks are welcomed.

[call-sign-shark]

Shark!! I have questions 🦈.

If not Arthur, let's say an AU where Arthur doesn't exist, do you think Heaven could fall in love with John or Thomas? (Or Ada, why not!)

I love the chemistry between Heaven and John, but I feel they're like siblings . Although John is a flirty, sassy man and he's hot af 😂.

On the other hand, Thomas... Their rivalry. Enemies (fierce enemies) to lovers? Tommy knows how to seduce a woman. And he's really smart.

And Ada... Well. Queen Ada 👑. Nothing to add here.

Wow Flor, this is such a clever question!! Thank you so much for asking this, you really made my brain go brrrrrr 😁💚 The short answer is: She could have fallen for both of them depending on the context.

✞ If John had not been married she would have gone for him, I guess. As you said, he's flirty, sassy, hot, and caring. Heaven needs someone who's not afraid to lavish her with tenderness. Moreover, they already share a deep and unique bond in the story. Some feel ambiguity about whether John has a little crush or not -- and it's up to readers to decide if they have a sibling platonic relationship or if John does feel a little innocent something for her. But I feel like it would not have been a long-term relationship. More like an intense fling that would have ended up in a strong friendship.

✞ Regarding Tommy... You know, a lovely reader on AO3 wondered if part of Tommy's hatred towards her could come from jealousy and attraction -- once again, I prefer readers to imagine what they want. The most logical choice for the canon story with John being married would be Thomas and Heaven falling in love in a very slow burn revolving around the enemies-to-lovers trope. At first, he would have only used her for her powers and for sex before falling for her first and trying to seduce her. That being said, their relationship would be toxic: they would always fight then fuck, then threaten to murder each other, but keep coming back to each other for comfort. Also, Tommy's tendency to sleep around would really make her suffer. At one point in the story, Heaven would have slept with Jack Nelson to hurt her husband, which could have resulted in a twisted love corner.

Isn't it hilarious to think that, in a parallel universe, there is a 100% angst series called "After You, Hell Should be Easy" featuring Thomas x Heaven in an enemies-to-lovers trope?

As for Ada, I don't think so: they are too different. The truth is, Heaven would have 100% fallen for May Carleton, and they would be the happiest and most healthy little couple of all the Peaky Blinders universe. 😂

Congratulations, Arthur is sulking now and mumbling "yeah, very fun Flor eh, but don't forget she's me fucking wife"

✞ For those wondering, Heaven is “you” in Heaven in Your Eyes, an Arthur x Reader!OC ongoing series. Check out the Masterlist

[gingersp1ce547]

ok it’s jojoever i have brainrot now i need to assign stands to every qsmp eggs

ramon : Killer Queen - bombs + cat what more do i need to say

Chayanne : Pearl Jam - Just making extremely good food

Tallulah : Hermit Purple - Thorns design that reminds of Rose

Leo : Purple Haze - Color matches + rabid dog vibes

Sunny : Emerald green - using jewels to fight is perfect for her

Empanada : Paisley Park - don’t have an explanation, em just gives me yasuho vibes

Pepito : Bohemian Rhapsody - go make spider-man real king

Dapper : Gold experience - gruesomely killing your enemies with your knowledge of living creatures is such a dapper thing

Pomme : Sex Pistols - go my little sniper queen

Richas : Heaven’s door - Perfect for an artist with a taste for fofoca

Dude i saw the word sex pistols in the context of stands my brain went “part 5? PART 5!” Like a dog hearing its name being called so im more than happy to brain rot with you bout all of this!

-killer queen is so perfect for ramon. If he had it during the election arc, fit would have to have stopped him form making foolish a speck of ash on the floor after he arrested tazercraft

-chays fits so well from a symbolic, “stands are a reflection of ones soul” perspective too. Like even though he’s a warrior, at heart he the main thing he cares about is taking care of his family though both physical protection and just general wellbeing. Such a good pick for him

-Hermit purple is such a good pick with tallulah. Im imagining phil sighing as he pulls out another camera for her to destroy before they eventually start having super cheap ones on hand for that exact purpose

-Listen i see purple haze for leo, i get it i can see the vision. But my fugo loving brain refuses to let go of what purple haze means for him as a stand symbolically and wants to give it to q!cellbit EVEN THOUGH WERE ONLY TALKING ABOUT THE EGGS.

Anyways in context of only assigning stands to the eggs 100% i think she should get out purple haze, but if were talking about everyone i also think born this way would be a really good fit for her and i cant quite explain why outside of the vibes just mathcing in my head

-sunny would so be besties with emerald green. Like tubbo would have to not only give sunny stuff but also it. I can totally see her giving it a nickname and its own room and stuff

-Your so right about empanda having yasuho vibes. Something about the crypticness of the power of paisley park coupled with all the shit both the characters have been though mashes really well together

- Bohemian rhapsody is so fucking funny for pepito. Especially because like idk if youve ever read any jojo’s fanfics but theirs this really good one called chimera were long story short the ascended version of dio from eyes over heaven goes to another universe and just fucks with the dio their by basically forcing him on a part jumping self-betterment arc? Anyways during it the author had the reason ungalo’s life became so shit was because he accidentally used his stand to make the story of holes come true with him acting as the main character and now every tine i think about that stand i cant not think of that.

But anyways him and roier would abuse the fuck out of his stand and it would in fact be hilarious

-As a giorno lover, dapper is so giorno coded. He would be so fucking unstoppable with that stand even without it being its requiem version. I can so see him using it to fuck with his dad for funnsies too.

-Pomme would be so sweet to the pistols too, she would make sure they get the best treats. I think at first she would struggle with keeping them in line but with etoiles help she would be the perfect balance of stern and sweet.

-richas with heavens door would be the absolute worst. Like the biggest menace ever. He would use it on his parents to make it so they could never give him a bath again and then they would have to find a work around for what doesnt count as bath but still technically got him clean until their able to convince him to reverse it.

[phoenixtakaramono]

The Name of the Game

There’s too much on my plate presently so I won’t write this brainworm right now but imagine this Enemies-to-Lovers Butchlander AU premise: Butcher transmigrates into different worlds where every identity he assumes pits him against its “virtuous hero” (Homelander).

The catch? Butcher has to somehow win his enemy over—or it’s death.

So, for context before I start going into detail, what the heck is “quick transmigration” you ask? It’s essentially world-hopping through various worlds in one story (think multi-short stories that all somehow connect together in a bigger narrative).

The original world this Butcher hails from is an alternate reality where Vought International has expanded all across the globe—and he himself is a Supe affiliated with Vought UK.

On a PR visit to Vought-American (Homelander would have to be tied early into the story here somehow), Butcher’s inner circle gets ambushed by “Supe terrorists”/ “supervillains.” One of those Supes has the power to temporarily banish a person from their plane of existence (or whichever power it is that’d jumpstart the “Quick Transmigration” system)—and Butcher gets caught in that.

He wakes up with a splitting migraine, and a “Conquer System” that explains his return conditions. He’s allowed to go back to his world as long as he fulfills his mission task in each world.

His mission? Fulfill the dying wish of each “soul” he’ll transmigrate into. Fight fate.

The caveat? Whatever identity Butcher assumes, he’ll be the natural nemesis of that world’s equivalent of the “Favorite Son”/ “Golden Child” (the meta equivalent of each world’s main character/ male protagonist/ rival).

Most of all, Butcher CANNOT kill that person. Or it’s automatic erasure.

At this point, Butcher doesn’t know who that person is yet so he’d naturally snap, “You expect me to know who the bloody hell that’d be?”

System: “Oh, you’ll know.”

——————————————

There are 3 main twists:

The first twist is each body Butcher takes possession of is an AU version of him so we can play with 5-6 (or more?) different settings.

There’s full (medieval) fantasy, modern showbiz/ entertainment industry, A/B/O, interstellar (sci-fi), etc.

What’s important is the world before Butcher returns to his original world is ‘The Boys’ (TV or comic) canon universe; it’s so that this AU Supe version of Butcher lands himself in a reality where he’s, once again, powerless—but this time he’d apparently married this American woman called Rebecca Saunders. Essentially the canon events of the show or comic.

But with the same win conditions set by the System, Butcher has to tackle the situation differently from his counterpart. It’s the hardest challenge to pass (it’s the world most similar to his reality but the body he’s inhabiting has burned many bridges).

The second twist is “the Homelander” of each world somehow always falls for Billy.

So we’re talking King Stillwell’s greatest and most loyal knight falling under the charm of the dragonkin he was under orders to slay/ subjugate.

The prince of Hollywood—Vought Entertainment’s top A-list moneymaker—falling for this English chav paparazzo.

An Alpha falling for another Alpha.

Their names—and age—will always change in each world. For example, in one world Homelander is called “John Gillman” and in other worlds he’s “Johnny, J'onn, Jon,” or whatever is the appropriate variation of his name.

Butcher, for example, can isekai into “William, Will, Bill/y, Wilhelm,” etcetera.

And the last twist is, when Butcher accumulates enough “points” to return back to his reality, kick ass and chew bubblegum, *his Homelander* has experienced the longing and affections his alternate versions had felt for the Butcher through his “dreams”—even though they’ve never met.

Homelander and Butcher meet for the first time officially in their world, as strangers (competitive rivals because of their different divisions), yet they’ve both “experienced” worlds where they’d somehow become companions. Partners. Lovers.

And we end this story hinting it’ll be the same.

[fanaticsnail]

If you ever need visuals/inspiration for the dancing prompts I am HERE.

Mihawk (tango):

You obviously are familiar with Mr & Mrs Smith and the ICONIC Morticia and Gomez dances. However, may I suggest;

"Cell Block Tango" - you know I had to include it.

"Shall we dance?" (2004) - so sensual and intimate. Poetry in motionm

"Take the Lead" - there's a tango in a detention centre with two people (which is what I was thinking of), but there's also a lovely sandwich tango (iykwim)

And my personal fave: the introducing the tango scene from the story of Vernon and Irene castle - and old movie, black and white, but my GOD the CHEMISTRY. The CUNT. The FLUIDITY. The subtle but adoring smiles and glances.

Luffy:

Ok the Bachata for Luffy is perfect and I don't want to change it but I would like to offer up for your viewing/imagining pleasure: La Cucaracha. Simple, sweet. Folk dance. Gives young love. Lots of Luffy vibes. Just imagining them dancing in a town square.

Otherwise, no notes. The song is amazing I can't wait.

Buggy (swing):

Songs wise:

Tangled up - Caro Emerald (specifically the Lokee remix)

Dancing with the devil - Elle & the pocket Belle's

And idk how swing they are necessarily but; I don't have a name for it by Steam Powered Giraffes, Gentlemen by OR3O (or even All eyes on me by OR3O, but that's less of a love song and more angsty), vending machine of love by the stupendium

Zoro (Capoeira):

I love this. When I heard(read) "dance series" I immediately knew a dance fight style would KILL. I never knew Capoeira before this so I have to thank you for introducing me because *chefs kiss* muah.

I couldn't find many Capoeira scenes in movies or shows, but from what I did see there's a lot of break-dance-esque leg action. So I gotta suggest the Eggsy vs Gazelle fight from Kingsmen. (Side note: the kingsmen movies are actually so camp).

If you don't know, Gazelle is an antagonist with prosthetic legs that are basically spears and she fights with a lot of slashes. The scene is beautiful. Lots of legs swinging, lots of fists flying, very lethal. Lots of physics defying and frankly reality bending moments that fit into the drama of anime fighting, specifically one piece.

Now idk where it would fit but I would kill myself if I didn't mention the Naacho Naacho dance scene (essentially a dance battle) in the movie RRR (seriously good movie, it is v long tho). It's an Indian movie set during the war of the English colonisation. One of the main characters has a crush on a white girl who invites him to a party, and his friend tags along for moral support. They use the power of friendship and dance to defeat a racist white guy who thinks that they're not sophisticated bc they don't even know how to dance any of his fancy dances (which aren't even english dances, by the way) by dancing a dance that gets everyone to join bc it's so fun, and they manage to continue dancing as everyone falls around them bc of the pace and stamina needed. If you watch none of the scenes I've suggested, please watch this one.

Honourable mentions;

Zendayas dance off in dancing with the stars (https://youtu.be/2Iw951fviP4?si=_Bj4Wav5pcpYyLIZ)

And it's not necessarily a romance song and the context is icky but the tempo and the cunt in 'Papi' by Todrick Hall and Nicole Scherzinger from 'Straight Outta Oz' (musical) is unmatched, and there's a music video with some dancing.

Oh my gosh, yes 😫. I love all of these things.

For the Mihawk Tango/Pasadoble; immediately my mind went:

-Zorro & Elena from The Mask of Zorro: Soooo enemies to lovers

-Mr & Mrs Smith, the drama and disaster: I love it

-AND!!!!! El Tango de Roxanne from Moulin Rogue: Need I say more? The DRAMA, The EMOTION, AHH.

-TAKE THE LEAD is where my brain went YES!!!!!! The dominant gentleman lead, the DRAMA I LOVE.

For the Luffy Bachata its a bit more tricky for me to find an appropriate reference for it because he's so PLAYFUL and less sensual than the way it.

-Mr & Mrs Smith has the Mondo Bongo scene that I think about quite regularly for references.

-I also am on the dance side of TikTok currently, these vids keep popping up and I adore them.

Now, for the Buggy Solo I'm having some conflicting thoughts. He deserves a soft little dancey dance, but I could also see it getting VERY ANGSTY very quickly.

My song choices are as follows:

-Sway by Mr Bubes himself.

-Express Burlesque by Christina Aguilera just screams Buggy to me.

-The improv style that Emeline brings to this dance off is just MENTAL, I love it. Like, soooo playful my brain can't process it.

ZORO is REALLY TRICKY.

However, my inner teenager went immediately here, to Aang and Katara's dance in the caves.

I will need to check out RRR again, it has been a hot minute.

Shanks as a Jig is superb: @sordidmusings has me in a chokehold with this suggestion and as a former Irish Dancer myself, I simply can't imagine anything more FUN than THIS. Like, as a violinist, this is going to be so much fun to write.

Hobbits dancing on a table, The Jolly Roving Tar is just immediately speaking to me. I could also see the circular jig from Disney's Tangled being incorporated with the entire crew.

The Buggy x Mihawk Sandwich is just writing itself at this stage, my brain rot is simply drawn to the dynamic and I can't even process it.

Masterlist Link for when they drop!

[gillianthecat]

I decided to watch the beginning of SOTUS based on @waitmyturtles' reactions as part of her Thai BL education, and the conversations that inspired. I'm definitely not watching the whole show! Probably not even the whole first episode, I'll only go as far as I can stand it for, but I was finding myself desperately curious for context.

Well, 25 seconds in and we're already off to a good start 🥴

I kinda like this theme song, ngl.

Wtf how is 2016 seven years ago already. What even is time.

Baby Off in the credits! Hello!

Actually this credits montage is making the show seem kind of appealing. Perhaps I will surprise everyone and myself by being a SOTUS fan.

I don't know if it's just this opening sequence, but the colors are so de-saturated compared to more recent Thai shows. Kinda makes it look like 90s home video.

This name tag table makes me miss Fighter and Tutor. 😢

But also, pre-Covid they could get HUGE casts of extras. That room is full!

So far the show is successfully building drama and intrigue! I'm more hooked than I suspected.

Arthit makes an excellent insecure petty tyrant. Unfortunately I'm having trouble imagining how they're going to transition him to love interest.

Brave Kongpop!

Seriously, there are like 500 extras in that giant room!

Baby Off!

Oh yep. And here comes the femme characters as comic relief.

Ah, Kongpop is the other lead. Of course. For some reason I assumed he was a side character?

I like this smiley girl who does the grilled chicken dance!

Aww, I think I might really like Kongpop as well.

Oddly enough the hazing stuff isn't bothering me (so far). I think because a) it's SO over the top ridiculous, and b) I came in expecting the worst. (But of course, it can always get worse.)

Maybe if I stop here I can pretend the show is a dystopian future romance (á la Divergent) about M and Kongpop falling in love as they rise up against their oppressive seniors. I'm kinda digging their chemistry.

However I'm predicting a het romance between M and the chicken dance girl (my beloved) [May] instead.

I can see from whence the Singto fandom. What a charming smile. He's already bringing a welcome groundedness to the role.

Seaweed snacks! Now I want some. Your advertising is working on me. Also, one thing I think SOTUS does well is camera angles and editing; they really build the drama.

Also the sound recording (and mixing) quality is not terrible. What happened after this? Was Covid to blame? (Or perhaps GMMTV has always been better at it.)

I don't think I'd be that into this if I was watching just for pleasure, but I'm actually quite enjoy the experience of watching it for historical curiosity.

I like this girls at the table too! The women in this show are much more solid than I was expecting, and actually seem like real people [gasp!]

Honestly I'm not even looking at Arthit or the subtitles, I'm just watching Off in the background.

God, Arthit is so annoyingly awful. The only way to get through this may be to ignore his existence as much as possible.

I don't know if it's because Off is the one actor I recognize, or if it's because he just has that much charisma, but my eye keeps getting drawn to him on screen. (Even if he is aiding and abetting the evil guy.) I love the way he keeps snatching things from Arthit's hands.

Like, I can see how this COULD work, if Arthit wasn't such a stupidly petty tyrant. Enemies to Lovers! It's aiming for what FighterTutor managed to do so well. But. Well. The bully character has to have some redeeming feature. (Although perhaps he will win me over in the end.) As for their chemistry, I haven't seen enough to venture a firm opinion yet, but it's certainly not jumping off the screen.

Oh great, now we have homophobic bullying 🥴 But Singto really is very good as Kong.

Are you all sure this show isn't really Kong/M? Because that's still the story I'm creating in my head.

Umm. How on earth are they going to make this homophobic bully into a passable love interest. Help. I don't understand.

oooh, I could ship Kongpop with Wad as well. There is potential in this scene about the shirt exchange.

Ok! We've got M in the tight fitting tshirt! Show off those muscles, babe!

Like, I don't think Krist is bad in this so far. He's playing a petty tyrant bully perfectly. But I believe y'all when you so he doesn't manage anything other than this one note.

However, Singto is managing to single-handedly create something out of their scenes anyway.

Yes rebel Kongpop! I feel like my dystopian version of the story would be so much better than whatever we actually get.

However I do appreciate if it has to be bully romance that the target is not in the least a passive victim. (I ❤️ Kongpop)

This hazing is just so dumb. It's so silly it doesn't even bother me really, just makes me think about how young and dumb these engineering seniors are. Actually mostly it makes me mad at the school administration for sanctioning it.

I do love the way Off stands (and sits).

And I love May and this wavy-haired girl! Interesting female characters in my BL?! Who have a life outside of "shipping" their classmates or having crushes on impossible gay boys?! My goodness!

Rebel Kongpop my beloved! And such a smartass 😍 Love his little smirk.

Okaaaay. Still struggling to see how they can possibly build a romance out of this. Like, in Semantic Error and Why R U?, there was bullying yes, but even from the beginning there were hints of connection and attraction. And I am simply not seeing any of that here.

Well. I finished the whole first episode after all! And despite all expectations I'm kinda hooked.😲 I can see why SOTUS was so popular; the things it does well it does very well. And Singto is elevating it far beyond what it deserves.

It helps that bullying and hazing, while they annoy me, aren't a Yikes Nope 😬 I'm Outa Here for me the way rape is (which is why I couldn't make it past the first episode of TharnType). And cringy slapstick humor, while objectively less of a problem, for some reason make me even more uncomfortable (which is part of the reason I couldn't make it through 2gether). And it's not boring me, at least as long as the camera isn't on Arthit. (My problem with some other OG Thai BL that was so boring I can't even remember its name now. [edit: it was driving me crazy so i went through world-of-bl's list and finally figured it out... it was Nitiman. Maybe I'd find it more interesting if I tried again, but it just could not keep me engaged, sorry Nitiman lovers.]) And it's helps that my expectations were basement level. (Thank you @waitmyturtles for preparing me. And I'm sorry for your suffering in the process.)

So I will probably continue! Although I don't know how soon or how regularly, or if I will do such detailed reaction posts for the rest. The only reason I started this one is I didn't expect to last more than 10 minutes.

[starsscarmyceiling]

the only thing i have ever known about merrical is what i've seen you reblog over the years, and i was always fine with that like go off...but now idk, i have seen so much of this pairing on my dash and i find myself being a little more curious? i feel kind of insane going to your askbox about this, but it seems to have certainly intrigued me ngl. and since you are the og merrical i've been following forever (reylo 4 life!), is there any sort of way you could give me a crash course on it? 🥺🙏

Holy gee WOW did I smile so very hard at this nonnie, I can't even tell you omfg. I was kind of wondering if Merrical would reach others in the SW fandom. I just know it's a smaller ship, especially in comparison to Reylo...and let me just tell you, Reylo Merricals, I think are mighty cool people.

Alright, well, I had another ask where I just gave all my fic recs and stuff like that, so you can find all of that here!

Okay okay okay, damn...where to start? I mean coming from Reylo you're still getting that enemies to lovers the grumpy one is soft for the sunshine goodness. Just imagine like...a Dark Rey/Jedi Ben AU? Yeah that seems like the right vibes to me.

Alright, so like the absolute 🤌thing🤌 for Merrical imo is all of the unspoken understanding between them. When I first played Jedi Fallen Order, what truly got me to start shipping is the moment Cal looked into Merrin's eyeballs and dropped the "I know what it's like to lose everything" line, like damn. That fucking--that ruined my life. He looked at her and validated her and then told her that how she'd been treated was wrong, and I just like fainted the old Katie can't come to the phone right now because she's dead. Here are two people, who both have been through so much, all of the same traumas of losing their entire people at such a young age and they found each other...like...do you know how special that is??

I think that is just another thing that I love about these two. There really is so much unsaid understanding between them that it seems like no matter the universe, they just seem to just naturally want to be around each other, and maybe they don't always understand why, but what it has is the potential to turn into is like *chef's kiss* of building something together that may have a foundation of joint trauma, but can then turn into everything they have been seeking and not even knowing they were. About two broken people, finally feeling like it's okay that they are, like they don't need to be fixed, like they don't need to explain, and they can just be.

It's about what they can build together.

They are so very healthy, have such amazing communication, and ISTG Star War if you don't give us this one pairing that won't end in tragedy I am setting everything on fire.

Alright, so obviously I would suggest playing JFO and then Jedi Survivor to get like the full story, but if you're not a gamer and want to commit to watching the "movie" version JFO, I thought this one was the best of the ones that weren't like 5+ hours but still providing enough context with cut scenes and some game play. I know it's still long but I tried to pick the best one under 3 hours!

For the JS movie. I thought this one was also a good balance of game play and cut scenes to get context. Let me just, like wow Respawn really made this game for the Merricals. Oh shit, these two are going to fuck your life up...in like the best way.

Also...HEH you're still gonna get all the freckle and hair appreciation in the world. Yes, you know exactly what I'm talking about.

Fellow Merricals, if there was like anything that I left out that you think is important, just comment on here! I hope that was as succinct, you know, for me, and efficient of a Merrical crash course that I could give you anon.

This was fun, thinking this all out, and I truly hope you enjoy just another lovable set of space idiots over here. Also don't be shy! If I've successfully converted you, please show some love to the amazing authors and artists that this fandom has to offer.

AW YEAH guys we could have another convert to the house of Merrical I am kicking my feet in the air and screaming love all of us always 💖💖💖

Also, yes, our home base is Applebee's. Come join me for a drink sometime 😏

[dorianslayyy]

13 Books Tag Game

Tagged by @bubblegum-blackwood

1) The last book I read:

Iron Flame by Rebecca Yarros - I absolutely devoured this sequel, omg. Obviously it’s nothing fancy or anything like that but hey what’s wrong with a smutty YA? Not to mention DRAGONS

2) A book I recommend:

Perfume by Patrick Süskind - when I read it I had no idea it was a whole entire modern classic, I just picked it up at Oxfam for like 3 for £1 or something but, wow, I can 100% understand how it earned that status! If you like an eery not-too-long horror story with the most beautiful imagery describing some fucked up gothic storylines and a lot of social commentary, you’ll love this book!

3) A book that I couldn’t put down:

Ahhh ok, im gonna say In Memoriam by Alice Winn. The ending was… idk I wasn’t really a fan of the ending, I thought it kind of disengaged and took away from the struggles and severity of war and sexuality the rest of the book portrayed but until that point the rest of the story was everythingggg, there’s a sweet forbidden romance/coming of age/found family in the 1910’s propelling into a story of the horror of WW1 and losing everything you know. All I can really say is that I read it all in one go (more or less) and it had me laughing and sobbing throughout

4) A book I’ve read twice (or more):

I mean… there’s an obvious choice here - The Picture Of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. HOWEVER I’m going to absolutely cheat and also say Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë, the drama, the trauma, the vast majority of these characters are awful and I love it 🤌🤌

5) A book on my TBR:

So many… so so many… I’m gonna say House Of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski tho because it was expensive and it’s cool looking and I’ve actually been meaning to read that for a while but boy howdy it’s huge

6) A book I’ve put down:

The Tale Of The Body Thief by Anne Rice UGHH I’m trying so hard!! It’s so many words with so little going on, and I do enjoy it, I really do, it’s so goofy, but it’s so.. i mean verbose isn’t really quite the right word but you know what I mean. Sorry mutuals :( I just need a break to read something short and silly - which I’ve almost finished the little series I’m currently reading

7) A book on my wish list:

Prophet Song by Paul Lynch - it sounds absolutely soul crushing and miserable, I know this completely contradicts what I just said about being in the mood for a silly read but <333

8) A favorite book from childhood:

Omg 10000x the Skulduggery Pleasant series by Derek Landy, guys you don’t understand, as much as I would love to talk about how my mum and I used to sit and read Anne Of Green Gables before bed or my Enid Blyton obsession when I was like 6, Skulduggery Pleasant was my absolute jam - I must’ve read that series (the original 9 + spin offs) a million times in primary school. I did keep up with phase 2 when that was coming out but I don’t know if I’ll bother with phase 3, I’m just too old now and phase 2 wasn’t all that imo - I think it’s sort of beating a dead horse at this point :( but the original 9 and Maleficent Seven/Armageddon Outta Here were my childhood and I definitely absorbed Valkyrie Cain into my identity as a child so that series probably shaped a big part of who I am and my hobbies as an adult

9) A book you would give to a friend:

Love On The Brain by Ali Hazelwood. Silly, nerdy, fun, a cute little Pride and Prejudice-esque enemies to lovers feat. women in STEM

10) A book of poetry or lyrics that you own:

Ok so anyone who’s seen my other poetry blog @apoemadaykeepsthehoesaway knows my obsession with The Complete Poems of Wilfred Owen (I have a lot of difference versions) AHHH by far my favourite poet - as you can imagine with such a young man, you can clearly see his changing mentalities, his growth as a person and a writer, his influences, and really gather a lot of context for what’s going on with him in general through his poems. And he grew up in all the same areas I grew up in and hung around as a kid/younger teen, which I think adds to my personal interest in him too. Idk ig we’re very close friends on a parasocial level lol.

And ofc there really aren’t that many poets around that give such visceral, truthful, and emotional insights to the First World War as Owen does (also a queer icon). He was my intro to war literature and I have tattoos relating to him, he and his work are just incredible to read about, would highly recommend having a look at Siegfried Sassoon’s war poems too; another very blunt poet who was a celebrity and war protestor at the time and happened to mentor Wilfred Owen, as well as being linked with other influential folks of the time such as Robbie Ross, Stephen Tennant, Rupert Brooke, and Ivor Novello. Ok Ill move on :,)

11) A nonfiction book you own:

Surprisingly I quite like nonfiction, mainly history and essays from philosophers and the like. Speaking of, Friedrich Nietzsche’s Beyond Good And Evil is a pretty solid one I own, I’ve never read anything where the author begins by calling himself and all his coworkers socially inept incels 🥹 but even though I don’t remember the specific reason I bought it (I was reading it to argue against some other philosophers in an essay in college and I really don’t remember who or what it was) I remember it being a really interesting read

Or yknow in a more traditional sense of non-fiction, I also have Notes On A Nervous Planet by Matt Haig. Really helped me get through some stuff, if you’re struggling with anxiety or feeling a bit down lately I’d very much recommend

12) What are you currently reading:

Omg ok, The Hitchhiker Trilogy by Douglas Adams, I’m currently on book 3 of 5 - Life, The Universe, And Everything. Really silly and nonsensical space bs but somehow also a bleakly satirical social commentary on the unseriousness of our ‘serious’ world. Really enjoyable, fairly political to some degree, really short (around or less than 200 pages a book), really fun. Martin Freeman truly was the perfect casting for Arthur Dent in the film of the first book. Full of that quintessentially British cynical humour and of course plenty of cups of tea

To give a little preview, the second book literally opens “The story so far: In the beginning, the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.”

13) What are you planning on reading next?

Books 4 and 5 of The Hitchhiker Trilogy, and then I suppose I had better carry on reading The Tale Of The Body Thief :D

Tagging whoever wants to have a go, it’s super fun, sorry if I went on a bit on some of these 😅

[starwalker03]

So now I have to ask. WMLP au where the team had a poly thing going before they were separated. (Everyone made out that new years and didn’t stop for a few week) What would change?

Okay so the thing about this ask is I read it, loved the concept, thought about it for more than 0.00000001 seconds and took psychic damage from it and then put my phone down and walked around the house a bit and I've been putting off coming back to it since.

So sorry about that.

But look. I'm one of those people who loves the interesting dynamic of ex-lovers. Irregardless of what type of love. Platonic, sexual, romantic, anything in any capacity, best friends, work buddies, soulmates, married couples, friends with benefits, all of it. Because once there was a time you were something to each other. Once you laughed and cried and talked and had stories and made stories. Once upon a time things were good and now they're not. And neither of you know how to fix it. Or worse, you know exactly how to fix it but simply refuse.

It's why I love making Dick and Bruce's relationship so complicated and difficult and somehow still functional but not in any way that is simple or straightforward.

But in this context. Oh god.

Imagine you are a teenager. 14-17. Mid teens. Everything is difficult already but it's worse because you're a hero. You're responsible for the lives of so many. You're a soldier in an endless war and there is no easy answer. And you have a team you love. Five people you would lay down your life for, you would stand between them and death, and you know they'd do the same for you. You stand in front of one, another stands in front of you; a circle of you all interposing yourselves between your loved ones and danger in an anti-Oroborous. Backs to one another and trusting you will be guarded.

And it's not enough.

Some of you die, some of you are taken where you'll never truly be heard from again, you are at the whims of the enemy and there is no presence at your back, no familiarity with who stands in front of you anymore.

And when you see them again the circle is broken, you cannot get close, you don't understand what happened to these people you once knew inside and out. They look different; you look different. Part of you wants to trust they would still stand by you at the end of the world and yet you look in their eyes and a flash of fear runs through you: you can't find it in yourself to put your back to them again.

Part of you blames yourself for it. Part of you thinks you're responsible. Part of you thinks you could fix it. Part of you is horrified at what they let themself become. Part of you is mad at them for letting you become what you are. Part of you is ashamed. Of yourself, of them, of everyone else.

Nothing is good anymore and it makes you wonder: was it ever really good to begin with? Were you all just lying to yourselves? Was this inside them, inside you, all along? Was this always how things would end? Was the clock ticking down to the day you'd hold a weapon at them, pointed, accusing, scared, angry, hurt, desperate. For them to back down, stop, finish this, finish you.

Was there ever a point at all? Was it all wasted?

Are you wasted?

Are you...

Who are you? And who are you to each other?

And why is the answer... Nothing?

[420thewritersroom]

Hello, I'm CelestiaShipp on Ao3 (and I'm also tatyfer, I have two accounts, one for pure shipping and the other is pure friendship and family) I'm curious about Raiden's harem since I'm curious about who makes it up (although I imagine Liu and Lao They are one of the members) and I'm sorry if I'm screwing too much

Yeah, so I have a reoccurring thing with characters and harems lmao. Before, it was my OCs where I (intentionally or unintentionally) would put them in harem like situations, but now it seems like even Raiden isn't safe from the "everyone wants to kissy you" squad

Also this got exceptionally long, so my answer is under this READMORE bracket

Yeah, Liu Kang and Kung Lao are obviously in the harem, especially in the context of the "Oops, Kung Lao's Dead Again" AU. Kung Lao is self explanatory, a classic "Childhood Friends to Lovers" trope, and I actually have a bit of a sad story between the pair that explains their eventual friendship, but I wanna save that for the next part of the series (so no spoilers!)

Liu Kang, as demonstrated in the most RECENT chapter is the "unrequited love/never meant to be" trope. When LORD Raiden rejected Liu Kang's love for him, Liu tried to move on from that chapter in his life. And when he became Fire God Liu Kang AND Keeper of Time, he almost wanted to recreate events so that Raiden could still be the god of thunder and they both could protect Earthrealm...And MAYBE spark a relationship together. But Liu Kang saw that this idea was a selfish one and reasonably thought that it also violates the one thing he still wanted to present every mortal and being in his new ear, the ability to choose their destiny. And forcing this new Raiden into a life where he's (technically, but not really) forced into a relationship with Liu defeats that purpose.

So instead, Liu Kang directs his love for Raiden by having this new Raiden have the life that he lost and would've wanted. A family, a loving mentor, a best friend (and soon to be bf), and a home. Even if Liu Kang couldn't make Raiden emotionally or physically happy, he gave Raiden a life where he was happy regardless, and that makes Liu Kang happy...At least he thinks it does.

Yo, listen, I just love possessive Liu Kang, especially if it's "slowly growing possessively feral, but is trying SO HARD to hide it". If you want a (albeit narsty ;) ) example of this, I highly recommend this fic series here (Earthrealm Poly)

Johnny and Kenshi don't really fit in the harem, but I'm still including them anyways because they both have a deep care for their friend.

Now, hear me out...The Lin Kuei brothers. Lemme explain. I like to imagine that out of all the Earthrealm warriors, Raiden is the one that came out alright as Liu Kang intended (perks of being gods favorite princess). Raiden didn't become orphaned, loose a parent or family member horrifically, didn't grow up in a dysfunctional household, didn't loose their hometown, just had a well-rounded life that was trauma free compared to the rest of the warriors (including Kung Lao).

And I like to think that Raiden's peaceful life and kind personality is what lured the Lin Kuei brothers to Raiden (along with everyone else too. Raiden stays not having enemies). The first time each of them realized that they liked Raiden was when he invited them (along with his other friends) to join him and his family for dinner one time. Just being surrounded by the good vibes that Raiden possessed just caused these feral men to go "Yep, I'm gonna wife that man up."

Bi-Han is obviously the tsundere type, and before he betrayed everyone (and listen, I got a lot of beef about that that I will not get into), I like to think that Bi-Han saw potential in Raiden much like Liu Kang did. But I think that Liu Kang and Subzero, without even knowing it, would've been strangely...Territorial about Raiden, if that makes sense lol.

There's more I could probably say, but I'm having a hard time expressing who else would be part of the harem. To kinda shot ball some things. As much as I don't like the (imo) forced relationship that netherrealm attempted with Kitana and Raiden (especially since they're trying to give Raiden the Liu Kang treatment with this new timelines), I'm also not opposed to it either. One, everyone likes a good "small town hero falling for a warrior princess" type thing, and maybe I'd be more into it if Kitana was taller than Raiden (I'm a "Outworlder women are tall" believer).

This is more crack than anything, but General Shao being part of the harem...Ok, this option is really just horny me speaking lol

[f3arl3ss]

HOW TO SEND ME A REQUEST

this blog is made especially for times when i just want to post bullshit but consider this post if you plan to enjoy a request on the @cutiedwaekki account (aka my main account)

First things first , what i do NOT write

Death feederism

Vore

Rape

Any BDSM stuff

toxcis relationship

Angst (the plot may have an angst part but I like to write stories with a happy ending)

Wg stuff on an underage idol (for example I refuse to write about Niki from Enhypen, newjeans etc...)

Now what i do write :

feedrism (obviously)

Mpreg

Hybrid au

Omegaverse

Rapid wg

Realistic wg

Magical wg

Burp

Breaking furniture

Tight clothes

Wg denial

and more ...

For the groups , even if i'm mostly used to write on skz , i can do write for any other groups !!

Mainly for boygroups i'll focus on :

Straykids

Ateez

Txt

Seventeen

Nct

And for girlgroups :

Twice

Loona

Here i gave my perception with the jars of kink with what i appreciate and what i don't

The "?" mark are for those that depend on the context or I don't know if I like it or don't like it

but for those who don't have a precise idea, I offer you a concept based on emoji, it is possible to send it an emoji lskte according to their meaning so that I can write according to your request!!

So for example if i got a reques with 🧸☀️👔

That'll mean a fluff imagine with an happy end and thight clothes I don't know if I'm making it clear, if necessary, don't hesitate to ask!! see here the possible emoji !!

☀️ = happy ending

🧸 = fluff

🔥 = smut

☁️= angst

👔 = tight clothes

🍔= stuffing

🐷= massive wg

🐱=hybrid au

❤️ = first love au

🩷 = enemies to lover au

🧡 = friends to lover au

💻 = office au

🍞 = bakery / restaurant au

💙 = wg denial

🩵 = fake dating

💜= etablished relationship

🐡=wg denial

And if necesary just add somes element like AU or ship you want ♡

Now i'm wakting for all your requests ;)

[nimue-hidden-lake]

The MASSIVE Izuann Ramble

More like an analysis but details....

This is an essay about the two I once wrote in a server. I adjusted it a little to make it more suitable to be a a massive essay. This is a long one so sit back and read at your own leisure. I will also reference my own longfic a lot so if curious or wanting more context, I recommend reading it.

I will start by laying down the tropes Izuann follows + a bit of writing development (as in how I changed it before the longfic):

This is just an intro. Here are the relationship charts I made. Apologies for the outdated songs. If it isn't JPop I only know like 5 songs.

Tropes used:

Enemies To Lovers

Childhood Friends (but they have no idea until like later into the story)

So uh can you say it is also Friends To Lovers? Probably... Maybe... I let you be the judge of that.

So the childhood friends thing was only added after I decided to go beyond a Love/Hate dynamic and actually allow this relationship to develop. Originally I intended for those to go the 'I hate you but I also love you' route but you can imagine how terrible of an idea that is. Sure, it is fun writing them argue but that can't be where this stands. Or else one would ask "Why the hell are you two dating!?" I needed more. So I thought of a few more plot points to work on and based the first longfic around those points. This allowed the two to develop and actually get to a healthy relationship.

I debated what approach to take so I think I will just go with a chronological approach here. Meaning we are first going to childhood, some noteworthy stuff to know in between and then jump 10+ years into the future and get to the main story and thus how this dynamic even develops. Thus I will jump in between my own chapters. I am referencing this longfic here. It is fully written by me if you’re wondering. 

Well, kind of. I must first introduce some basics for Nyeli aka Patch. Because he plays an important role throughout this, even in the context of the relationship. As for how a chibi cat-human hybrid exists... For now, don't worry about that. Just accept that he does.

So Nyeli's original name is Patch. Patch has been a name given by Izumi when he was a kid. He found Patch one day inside a cardboard box and took him home, thinking his Mom would not mind. Spoiler, she does. So much so that she made sure to put Patch back out as a stray during a trip overseas and lying to her son about his friend running away which leads to a misunderstanding between Patch and Izumi later down the line. Ann is the one finding Patch and taking him instead, naming him 'Nyeli' which is the new name he goes by.

One could say the name 'Patch' is symbolic- Him helping fix not just his own relationship with Izumi but also his with Ann. Because there is a massive one between the two. Though one could argue that it is subconscious. As for why the name Patch...

That was how he and Patch had met. The name choice was odd for a Japanese kid yet Izumi didn’t know what else to name him. It was a word he had heard in a kid’s show he had been watching at the time and he just loved the sound of it. It was a character’s name most likely and he loved it. Nothing classic Japanese, a unique name for his new friend. He didn’t know what it meant at the time and honestly, the kid had not even cared. Kids do not sweat details after all.

Ok now really with everything out of the way I am getting into the actual relationship... Yeah, long intro here as well but as an overview.

The two technically first meet when they are kids. Izumi's parents both had jobs overseas and took their kid with them of course. They allowed him to roam free for a while yet one could imagine that he has had a hard time due to the language barrier. In fact, he didn't even understand Ann when first meeting them.

That was in a literal sense of course. He had never any idea what she was telling him, not daring to speak after having introduced himself and her being unable to pronounce it. This resulted in her calling him ‘Izuzu’, having given up midway through to pronounce his name. And it became somewhat terrifying to speak when she started talking in this alien language. He didn’t understand her, at all, and didn’t dare to ask. Could he even? Would she understand him? It was like communicating with an alien, another species altogether. 

`

[...]

As for how he met her… He didn’t know. She just walked up to him, greeted him and started to drag him into one game after the other without consent whatsoever. She just took him away and started introducing him to games, or so he assumed. At first he was debating if he should participate yet this girl made sure he stayed one way or another. And to make matters more complicated Patch wanted to stay as well, having fun with whatever the girl came up with.

Little Izumi tried to explain the consequences, what Mama might say if something happened to either of them yet the kitty had been too occupied with the game, being unable to reason with. So, it was two against one in the end and as a kid he let himself drag into whatever game the little girl came up with.

Simply put, it was a relationship what one would expect between kids - Just playing games and having fun. Well, even if it took a while for Izumi.

The three would play games together, whatever Ann came up with, even if it was dangerous. There the two would showcase their contrasts to another - Izumi was a hesitant kid due to not knowing what his mother will say (she will play a role here, I think you can already tell in what way). 

‘Look at your hands! What if you infected yourself with some incurable disease!? Do you want to die!? That’s it! Up to your room! You will stay there! I will hire someone to look after you too!’ 

It would be something she would say and he hated to make Mama worry. She was just looking out, nothing more. So there was no need to make her worry whatsoever.

Ann was a carefree kid from the get go, not even caring if they scraped their knee or something. Heck, Ann may recall Izumi being a bit of a crybaby due to seeing him panic so often.

He had watched her eagerly up until when she suddenly tripped, face plastered onto the hard ground. Out of worry he got up, running over to her and shaking her for some time. At first the girl didn’t want to get up it seems, him almost tearing up as a result. Did she— She didn’t, right? No way! She can’t! She shouldn’t—

But he would hold those tears in when suddenly seeing her head lift up, a bump right in front of it. But instead of crying like he would have she was only laughing it off while rubbing it.

  (from the oneshot Play Date, not in the main story)

One is overly careful, one might argue trapped, and the other is going through life without a care in the world. It is one reason why the two could not even recognize another, given that they had done 180s essentially.  At least at first glance. But both got along just fine despite being unable to literally understand another. This continued until... 

Those were the days Izumi looked back on, more fondly than he liked to admit. The time was short lived as one of his parents had spotted the two, seeing what ‘barbaric game’ he was playing with this girl before being dragged away. It was the last time he ever saw her, unable to tell her what happened. Not like he could talk to her or anything but at least try to say goodbye. Because the rest of the time he had been stuck at home, supervised by one of his parents with a fair scolding. He made them worry and while he believed to understand that they cared it always left a sour taste in his mouth.

Long story short Izumom saw the two, didn't like it and thus removed her son from there. All while also making sure to get rid of Patch as well while at it, having both out of the picture. I went with a headcanon that his parents are overly controlling and would keep their son almost on a leash as well as making decisions for him instead of asking him (it is at least hinted at in PORTRAIT, at least from the bits I read... Take it with a grain of salt as I have not read a fan translation yet). For now we focus on the Mom but know that the father is not innocent either. I had to explain how Izumi is described as 'kind' but then does shit like kidnapping or being overly controlling at points. Thus I went with the explanation that he just doesn't know any better as his mother normalized this behavior, doing it to him and thus aiming to make him dependent on her. This is important later down the line to know when summarizing the last big plotpoint. 

How did that go on Ann's side? Well, not so well as later down the line they saw it as the first 'betrayal'. They are used to people disappearing out of their life, Izumi having turned into the norm. They didn't know his mother was behind this so they understood it as 'He is tried of me and doesn't want to play with me.' When Ann even looks back on everything, they notice that they were all alone anyway.

Back then… What was it all like back then? It was hard for Ann to pinpoint down. Ever since when little they would describe themselves as a ‘misfit’ in one way or another. Maybe as a kid they didn’t let it get to them is all. After all, life seemed easier at the early stages. Worry about the little things in life, focus on playing and just enjoy the time. It was how they lived in the end: Enjoy the moment. Nothing more, nothing less. It may be the inexperience and temporary ignorance, making them not think about such details. That’s why when still a little child, they could ignore these things altogether. 

Sure, almost everyone looked at them weirdly and made fun of them, but back then they could just laugh it off. ‘ Haha, that’s funny~ ’ they would always tell the other kids when they were making a joke at little Ann’s expense… Solely because they did not understand the severity of their words. And it was unlikely that the other kids had understood. Besides, they were too busy being all over the place and playing all sorts of games. Pretend, catch, hide and seek, climbing trees, soccer, drawing nonsense on concrete with chalk— There was no time to think about it. They were having fun. But when thinking back, it was never in a set group like the other kids. They just bounced around,like some ball being thrown. And yet, they did not understand it. It might be because of their lack of understanding when it came to the world. They were so naive that they managed to live a life in ignorance. And maybe that would have been a life for the better.

They wouldn’t mind being alone then if it was just that. Not like there was anyone, really. Even as a kid, when they thought that they had found someone to play with for some time, the boy just vanished— Or rather Izumi vanished. Someone they noticed they had grown close to, at least a little. Sure, he was a bit of a crybaby and seemed to be overwhelmed with Ann at points— Heck, he barely talked (unaware at the time that he could not communicate with them in the same language) but they somehow managed to communicate something. So they had to be close, right? Or so this little, naive kid chose to believe at first.

It was a fun few weeks, sure, but one day he just stopped showing up. What did they think about it back then? Well, it felt like a blow in their face back then once having come to that realization. ‘ Did I scare him? Or was he just bored of me? Or did he never like me to begin with? ’ It hit harder than they would like to admit. They never wanted to admit it. Luckily other kids approached them shortly after and invited them over for a game of jump rope and they accepted. They thought it was forgotten ever since yet it was the first of many blows.

And it only got worse from there. The treatment they received from others back in the day when growing older led them into isolation. Friends came and went, them even being backstabbed despite being promised that they would never leave them. This led them to believe that no relationship, unless family, is eternal. This is also why they have a hard time communicating. The language barrier is an excuse rather than a thing (like they will be talking when under the influence but regular Ann is very hesitant bonding properly with others and for a long while would not call anyone their friend). They are scared to create meaningful bonds, believing they will be shoved aside anyway. And again, while Izumi is not the sole reason for it, he may as well have kickstarted this.

To finish off the childhood section I should note... "Ok how do none of the two notice they are the kids on the playground!?"

In Ann's case it is simple - They forgot for a good while and stopped bothering with it. And the face had slipped their mind until seeing it again.

As for Izumi... Well, the girl looked as follows:

And the girl, she didn’t look like one at all to begin with. At least not like one he usually saw around or what Mama had told him what a girl would be like. If it wasn’t for her voice little Izumi would think that she was a guy actually. Short, brown, messy hair, shorts, a shirt way too big for her and a pair of trainers. No dress, no accessories, not even make up. And she was not scared too from what he saw. She sometimes fell over and scraped her knee but laughed it off rather than crying over it. She loved climbing trees, playing ball or just running around and circles for the heck of it. No dolls, no stuffies. She even got herself dirty and she was never, ever bothered by it. She was odd, to say the least, yet he was jealous all the same.

And even in future he would describe 'the little girl' as the opposite of Ann - Lively, reckless, upbeat, ready to have fun and approach others. Heck, he even sometimes may have imagined what the girl turned out to be nowadays... Not imagining that this would be Ann at first glance (hint at a childhood crush? Maybe... Leave that up to interpretation here).

Ok, this covers just the childhood basics (I am almost an hour in holy-). Next I will move on to the development in the present. Because give it over a decade and the two would meet each other again... Without knowing it at first that is.

“S… Sorry… I…Here to…” They continued stuttering yet he interrupted them from one moment to the next, having raised his own voice: “Speak up, would you!? And how about you try to speak in full sentences! This is pathetic to listen to!”

Hearing this made them nearly grumble. Something rubbed them the wrong way. What the hell was this guy thinking? This was as bad as they heard so far. And it has not even been a minute! Oh great…

They felt one of their hands forming a fist yet they tried to not to let it get to them. Maybe it was just a… Terrible first impression.

“Uhm… I… Can’t talk… Much Japanese…” They responded, very slowly, trying to keep their composure the best way they possibly can.

At most they only got one of his eyebrows rising,  him then scoffing: “Talk? Don’t you mean ‘speak’?” It wouldn’t be something they would usually take offense to but the way he said it, so mockingly… It made their blood boil, almost literally. Especially once he took a closer look, to say the least. He then added however: “Wait… You’re not from here, are you?”

“Yeah.” They nodded yet with somewhat visible annoyance. Yet he decided to ignore it or had not noticed.

“Ok fine, I won’t pick on your poor choice of words.”Oh how generous… “But quit the stuttering, will you? It’s annoying.”

Wha— Less stuttering? Less stuttering!? How!? They had to think about their words here! This guy is an inconsiderate shithead alright!? They made on attempt in hiding it at that point, being beyond furious at that point. “Ugh… If so, how about English?”

Though they would not even wait for an answer, adding: “Hah, no. Whatever. Picking up! You!”

“Huh? Picking me u—” He was about to repeat though would then come to a realization. “Hey, you’re that ‘Wolff’ person, aren’t you?”

They nodded, though somewhat forcefully. “Yeah. I’m Anja–Sophie Wolff. And I—”

“I didn’t ask for your name, did I?”

“Well… No, but—”

A sudden glare from the dimwit in front of them. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you then! Do you know how long I waited here!? Did you even try looking!?”

A grumble escaped their very own lips, more audible than before. They then glared back, massively annoyed. They are getting more and more pissed at this point. Not furious, pissed.

“If you wanna walk and sweat, please. I’ll drive with not you.”

They said it sharp and bluntly, not even resisting by then. No, he is not as bad as they said… He’s worse than they said! That Arschloch!

Needless to say, their 'welcome back' greeting ended in disaster. The two start arguing pretty much right away and do not hide that they hate each other's guts. For a while, them arguing is the norm whenever they come across another. Izumi finds a way to belittle Ann whenever he can (may it be their way of speaking, their clothes or 'not doing their job properly' (they are just pissing him off with the last one)) . Meanwhile they shoot insults at him and cannot stand how he is looking down at them, insulting them in his own way. They are just busy hating each other... Right?

“See what I mean? They’re totally got something going on.”

“I don’t know about that… Secchan is about to try something horrible on Ann–Chan…”

“No no no. You don’t understand! They’re so into it! They won’t notice us!”

A quick sigh from the soft sounding voice. “I mean… I guess the image would be funny. Hmm…”

[...]

“Haha, it’s all good. Are you done flirting now?” This employee then joked, only to be met with two sharp glares at once.

“We’re not flirting you idiot!” The model yelled in pure anger. What the hell was this guy’s deal? The two were clearly fighting over here! How can anyone even think this is flirting, let alone joke about it!?

[...]

“Uh… Just don’t kill each other while I’m gone…” Ritsu threw in, though still half asleep, making it impossible to tell if he was being serious or not.

“Oh, and don’t do that at work!” The employee of course had to say. “If you know what I mean~  Do it while we’re all go–”

“Shut up we won’t!” The two arguing said in perfect sync, the only thing they may agree on for their entire life.

Basically a listing of the oldest clichées in the book - Other characters pointing it out (as in "Yep, they're gonna bang")  and even them talking in sync without noticing. Are they really hating each other or are they just saying that? Is it really that shallow or is there more going on? Well, ask Leo Tsukinaga! ... No, seriously... 

And whenever they screamed Leo couldn’t help but grow curious. It was a few times he even got inspired and started scribbling, their voices serving as his background noise. It was insightful sometimes and some of his latest compositions were based on just them quarreling. Others might be annoyed but he finds it funny and it also makes him somewhat happy. In his eyes, Sena finally found someone who he can be on such open terms with. Even if the relationship is bad, being so honest with each other takes a lot. One might call it naivety but to Leo this was just common sense. If you butt heads so much, you had to be close! Only those close can be so open with one another. There was more going on than everyone would realize! It is simple logic in the composer’s point of view, a logic so flawed for many but to him it made somewhat sense. And besides, one of the employees does not seem to disagree with him either from what he heard! Maybe it was some kind of sixth sense at the time but the way the two argued was different from the tension building up between the members of Knights sometimes. It was such an honest clash of emotions, he couldn’t help but translate their screams and cries into notes, a piece of music, a memory of the moment. It helped him understand it all the better if he were completely honest and that is how he drew the following conclusions.

Basically and also with the things I established ahead... No, this is not a simple hatred. Things are more complicated yet they do not notice that at first. Some people might even argue that the two have something going on yet both get defensive about this. "I hate him/them!" basically and that is how things go for a good while. Though that is changing over time...

I will summarize the plot a little here: Long story short Nyeli is also there and Izumi acts as if he hates Nyeli, thinking it is for the better anyway. Ann at first believes it is Izumi being a shithead as always.

They think not much of it and when Ritsu makes an observation how conflicted Nyeli actually feels about Izumi, portraying him as a 'Black Knight' in his drawings, Ann dismisses it at first. For a while they are blind and prejudiced towards Izumi after all, thinking he is an asshole by default. They are also in disbelief when Sora tells them about 'Izumi's kind color' later on. How can he be kind!? A guy who does not hesitate to be just blunt with his words and talk down on others!? Who treats Nyeli like literal garbage!? They are confused about that, by a great deal.

What convinces them is essentially a nightmare, one could argue it was something they kind of started to pick up on yet didn't want to admit to. At first it manifested in their fear of loneliness. Add that others say that he isn't so bad they start to observe closer to see what others mean. They say nothing, just watch Izumi from time to time interacting with others. And while they are still convinced that he can be a bit annoying they start to slowly catch on. 

Then again, it might only answer why the cat didn’t hate that jerk completely and portrayed him in one of the images. But that was it. They were not much closer to anything else… ‘ Taking pity on the lowest of the low ’, the line haunted them even now. It was all so weird, they didn’t get it. The more they dug up about Izumi, the more confusing of a person he became to them. An Arschloch , they would still not deny that. But at the same time he was… Also not one? Ugh, this was confusing. More than it should have been. It made their head hurt… It led to nothing.

Same goes to the issue with Nyeli, Ritsu having noted that Nyeli behaves very differently when it comes to Izumi as a whole - It's not exactly hate but Nyeli is shallow, almost empty even. He doesn't 'hate' Izumi, that much they learn to admit. The situation isn't that black and white in the end.

As for Izumi during all of this, he is still not fond of Ann.

When it comes to the definition of a brat, there was no one Izumi knew any better than Ann themselves. This little shit felt entitled to everything. Even the smallest thing. They dared to talk back, they dared to raise their voice, they dared to not listen to him. Then again, these would usually just be inconveniences at most and he wouldn't pay much attention to it. They are just a brat who’d need to be disciplined, yet he didn’t have the energy to do that. It was not his job to set them straight. And usually, it would stay just there. An inconvenience, an annoyance… But that’s about it. However, Izumi had taken note of everything happening to him whenever just around Ann. He knew the rage building up had slowly become personal.

At first he just saw them as a nuisance: A mess of a person who cannot do anything right. And he was ready to call them out on that. The way they dress is a mess, they may work a lot yet manage to mess up the fundamental basics (either by accident or on purpose, with him Izumi felt like it was completely on purpose at points) and them trying to speak was a slog to get through. Stuff  which shouldn’t be anything personal to him, especially since Ann seems to try for the most part.

Yeah, nothing to add here. So imagine his annoyance when they try to approach Izumi directly about something regarding Nyeli... They literally chase him down the hall even, not allowing him to escape. In the end he is forced to talk to them regarding Nyeli.

“Fine.... You want to know what me and the cat’s deal is? I’ll tell you.” He responded, trying to stick with his annoyed act. “Will you stop pestering me if I tell you?”

When hearing his response they lifted their head up, a little in surprise. Yeah, he didn’t believe it either. He was listening to their request. Yet they nodded despite this sudden shock.

“And you keep your mouth shut while I’m talking. Ask questions afterwards. Did I make myself clear?”

So basically Izumi tells Ann about how he knew Nyeli and of his true name, Patch, and both stories do not add up. Nyeli looked more as if he was placed as a stray but Izumi claims the kitty ran away from home, insisting on it even. Having this not add up they decide to initiate that the two fix their misunderstanding by forcing them to sit down and bond... This goes horrible at first, who is surprised? NO ONE! Heck, even Izumi is not sure what to say and Nyeli is refusing at first as well. It isn't until having been suggested the 'get to know him again' approach that Izumi manages to break the ice and bond with Nyeli again, reaching a point where one can leave the two alone after a while. While the effort came from the two mainly Ann initiated it at least, allowing the two to bond again.

One issue resolved, another one approaching. Or rather two. This connection now leads to Izumi and Ann hanging out more as well, thanks to Nyeli. And maybe they start growing more fond of another yet none would admit it. Well, Ann says nothing, but Izumi...

"You've got time this Saturday, don't you? Of course you do! Meet me in front of this building at exactly 10 am! And not a second later! If you do, I will make sure that you won't hear the end of it! Be on time!"

Before Ann could even agree Izumi had just dashed right out of their office, feeling that his own face had to be the spitting image of embarrassment. What had he been saying just now? Why was he saying nonsense like that!? 'Meet me in front of this building at 10 am'!? What was he doing!? Inviting that klutz to a date!? No, that wasn't it! The idea would never cross his mind! Then again… What would he even do with them around? He didn't even give them a choice, nor a response. Would they even show up!?

Totally not liking them, not at all. Either way, it is during that time where he comes to some ugly truth again, by this conversation...

“You sounding like Mami— I mean my Mom.” Ann added, unimpressed by this argument yet he decided to ignore it… At first yet he turned back soon enough when hearing one word… He didn’t know but it had just caught his attention right then and there.

“What? Did your Mom pick the meals for you or something?” He asked, almost mocking though that was to mask his curiosity which was met with a sheepish grin.

“Uh… She can cook so… No complaints for meals, heh…”

“Are you serious? And you want to live alone. I can’t believe your parents made you do that…” 

“Made?” They suddenly tilted their head all of a sudden, confused. “No one made me go.”

Hearing that made the male nearly drop onto the table, staring at them wide eyed. “No one… Made you go? Then why are you here?” This was news to him, almost unbelievable. Their mother did not choose for them? Was that even possible!? It sounded so… Surreal.

“Because I want to.” They responded quickly, plain and simple. “Well… Guess we’re here so may as well reveal stuff.”

“Wh… What are you—”

“I like Japan. And stuff from Japan! Want to see it so I went. Uni exchange programm stuff!  Plus Germany can be stinky~”

Basically learning that they are doing this of their own choice. Why is this important? Well, as said before, keep in mind that I established that Izumi heavily depends on his mother and does more of what she tells him to, what he needs to be. So hearing that Ann gets a choice... It gets to him yet he has no idea why at first until he thinks about it... And when noticing that everything just comes crashing down on him and he is so confused that he cannot focus on anything. Knowing no one to turn to he picks Ann yet he himself isn't sure why, and just breaks down. He expects to be shooed away yet they do not do that. Instead they let him inside their home and both talk about what is going on. 

Basically the idea is that Izumi is too confused to continue, wanting to reevaluate what he wants, not what his Mom told him to be. This leads to a temporary retirement from idol activities, 1-2 months, with the agreements with Knights. To catch a break from everything he even considers moving out of the dorms.

“Now what? Heading to Florenz?” They continued asking, somewhat curious and interested. He didn’t understand why, it was still somewhat irritating. But he didn’t hate it. Not anymore.

“It’s an option.” Izumi admitted with a sigh, though it didn’t sit completely right with him, oddly enough. “But the chance of me drowning myself in work there is high. And that’s not exactly the plan, is it?”

“Haha, yeah. Get it. I drown in work too.” They said, stating the absolute obvious. It only made his eyes roll.

“Oh no, I thought the papers on your desk were just for show.” He added with obvious sarcasm, making them nearly glare at him.

“Hey, not funny!”

“I wasn’t being funny.”

What this leads to is essentially him temporarily moving in with Ann after they offered.

“Then mine could do!” They suddenly suggested, sounding almost a little too eager for his liking. But he couldn’t comment on it, more surprised if anything to hear that of all things. He even looked at them, not hiding this thought whatsoever.

“Come again?”

“My place!” Ann repeated, sounding as if they just had a genius idea here. “Not minding at all!”

“Your… Place? That mess? You really expect me to—”

“You don’t have to!” They suddenly huffed with a pout. “Just trying to help. But search or the streets. Hmph!”

Basically the idea is to get a place where he could be away for a while and had no risk to get into too much work also plot but ssh. So the two start living together for a short while (have fun ina crowded one room apartment)

Happy e- No, no. So wrong. No happy end. Because this is where things boil down yet are also the turning point. Basically the childhood thing is found out there, Ann finding out by coincidence by throwing a box over and seeing a picture of Izumi as a kid... Then it all comes back to them and they drop his nickname, 'Izuzu'. And that is where he also notices... Ann is that 'little girl' he remembered.

Thus the first day is awkward, Ann giving Izumi the silent treatment. They insist that it's fine but it clearly isn't. He is somewhat overcome with guilt and tries to apologize yet they tell him not to, saying that this is what they are used to. No need to wo-

“That…” He finally began speaking yet again, them looking right at Izumi to see what his response would be. Ann didn’t expect much, even now, so his next words surprised them. “Sounds pathetic.”

It was as if he was verbally punching them right in the guts and it nearly made them furious… Though for different reasons, something they couldn’t exactly put into words. “Pathetic?”

“Oh you heard me right. So you’re saying that for whatever reason I don’t need to apologize? Because you’re used to this? Is that what I’m hearing?”

They nodded. “Yeah, it’s–”

“Are you serious!? Did I listen to some sorry loner all this time!?” He seemed upset, not an unusual sight for Ann. And yet, this time it had a different undertone, to say the least. “Then why bother with this all to begin with!? You make no sense… Unless you got some savior complex going on.”

[...]

“So, I assume that you need someone to push you around. And since you pushed me around to make up with Patch, I suppose I will push you around a little now!” He continued, determination somewhat written over his face. “So quit saying stuff like that! I’m not gonna leave you by yourself if I can help it!”

Yeah, he's not gonna listen to this. Ann is in disbelief, not believing their ears at that point. They first think that it's a lie but...

They can tell at the same time that it is not, if that makes sense. Or maybe they are hopeful at this moment. Not like he gives them a choice anyway...

“In fact, I guess we have some catching up to do. Are you free tomorrow?”

“Eh? Me!?” They repeated in shock. It has been years since they were asked that. Ok no, technically it was not too long ago, given Izumi dragged them out that one weekend but it didn’t change that this was a surprise. Being asked if they were free, just like that… Such a  simple question shouldn’t make them want to jump up in joy or nearly break out crying but it was too much to handle. It has been a while since anyone asked this of them, anyone who is not family at least. And they were perhaps a little too happy hearing it. “Uni lectures in the morning but… Not a work day I—”

“Hah, guess something like that takes priority. So good enough. Now go to bed!” Izumi suddenly insisted. “The moment you get back here it’ll just be the two of us!”

“Wha— Hah!? Said who!?”

“I said so!” He countered with a sudden grin on his face. “Now hop to it. I don’t wanna drag you around in the afternoon.”

So for a while things become peaceful and not much is going on. Essentially it is all bonding primarily, either between the two or Izumi and Nyeli doing something together. Almost done, great.

First we need to get the confession out of the way... But honestly that boils down to the following - Knights notices that Izumi has grown closer to Ann and even talks about them differently, even seeing them as a 'woman' (the they/them he used before was to indicate that he didn't see them as much actually. She/Her is fine since this Ann doesn't correct anyone about pronouns, even if they themself refuse to identify). At first he tries to deny it but...

When thinking back on some things… Was there a chance? The two were kinda on dates before after all. And ever since seeing more of her, let alone living with her… Things go smoother. He kind of liked it actually, growing fond of her. At first he thought it was just because she was the little girl from years ago and it might play a factor. He would lie if he said it didn’t. But… Even before that… To some degree… Ugh, that’s a headache to think about. Did he seriously start to see her that way now? He wouldn’t know when, he just hated it that Naru–Chan’s outrageous claim could hold some weight. Ugh, not like these feelings would be returned though.

He cannot deny it. And Ann cannot escape it either. Nyeli asks them if they are in love with 'brothnya' (basically Izumi), they do not exactly answer the question. All they say is that 'there is no way that he will like me'. Then that random employee asks them as well.

That had his attention a little. It wasn’t a flatout ‘no’ after all. Hoho~ “Did you just say maybe?”

“Ah— That— Who knows, that’s all!”

“Maybe. So you’re considering it. Of course you are. You seem to actually enjoy being around Sena after all.”

“Never thought I’d see the day…”

“Oh, you should read up on your tropes then.”

“Life isn’t tropey!” She would argue either way. “Anything but tropey!”

“Hey, I’m just throwing it out there. You two just gave off the vibe you know.”

“How!?”

“I already said how. Anyway, anyway… Embrace it! Enjoy your existence as a couple! If none of the higher ups find out, you are in the clear~”

One of her eyelids seemed to twitch at the suggestion yet the redness did not disappear. “W… We… Not…”

“Haha, discuss it first. I’m sure you two will be juuust fine~”

“What—”

“Enough from me though. I have somewhere to be. Won’t be here for a while actually. So… Best of luck! Go get him girl!”

The conversations make the two think yet also say nothing for a few days to another... Until it escalates...

And thus they were silent yet again, finishing up their meals respectively before putting their bowls and chopsticks (or a fork in Ann’s case) down, first facing the table before both turned their heads up to face one another all of a sudden, staring at each other… Wait, she’s red too!? What is the meaning of that!? But old habits die hard because before they knew it they would start yelling at each other again, Ann starting.

“You brought it up!? Meaning!?”

“What do you mean ‘meaning’!? I’m not trying to say anything by that!”

“Then why say that!?”

“Because you’re silent all week!”

“You too! You wanna date suddenly!?”

“Hah!? D… Don’t be ridiculous! It’s nothing like that! I’m not desperate!” Despite being aware he was still denying it verbally… Great… “You point it out so what are you trying to say!? That you want to date me!?”

“Hah!? I… No! Not desperate!” Ann denied however, flushed red. 

“Yeah right! Sounds like to me you fell for me you know!” 

“Me!? You fell!” She countered, as if confident in that statement but also not really. It was rather odd, to say the least. and yet the indication was all too obvious.

“Hah! I won’t admit it if you don’t!”

“Ok fine! I may fell in love! With you!”

“There we go! Because I think so do I!”

It leads to a confession though and things become official! Happy e-

“Why hello there~ Are you my little Izumi’s roommate~?” The voice was an older one, feminine and sounding ever so sweet. Even after having not heard it clearly for a good few months he would never be able to forget this voice, given he had heard the one all his life. He couldn’t move, unable to say anything and the words wouldn’t leave him. Well, he wasn’t talking to anyone at the moment yet his throat felt dry, somewhat. He knew who this was, better than anyone… 

“G… Good morning?” He heard Ann stutter, as if she was overwhelmed by this sudden entrance. Well, who wouldn’t be? It came out of literal nowhere! “Uhm.. By Izumi… Miss, you mean—”

“Hm? Oh right, you don’t know who I am. Silly me, I usually don’t bother with no names~” The woman responded, not stopping with her ever so sweet tone, despite her words. “You should’ve seen my face around already though, shouldn’t you? I was in every fashion magazine known to man~”

“I.. Uhm… Do not read—”

“Then start sweetie. How can you run around in some old rags like that~? No sense for fashion at all, haha~”

Yeah uh... I hope you still remember me mentioning Izumom... She's here, at the end. There's a point to this. Let me introduce you to her as the story puts it!

Sena Kimiko, a woman in her 40s at most. Even then, no one would probably suspect that to be the case at all. She looked very young for her age after all, a standard for the model industry. There was not a single wrinkle in her face and she never had any bags under them either. No scars nor beauty marks. Her face was never tarnished, it was as if she had been blessed with natural beauty. All combined with sparkling, dark blue eyes and long, wavy yet slightly thick silver hair. Her hair especially seemed flawless; no sign of bed hair nor any mess. It was always so clean, in tip top shape, healthy and shining. 

Her body was also something else– A slim figure with a respectable waist and chest. Not too big yet not too small either. Her measurements were just right. Any outfit of her choice will be a perfect fit no matter what. Most would be jealous of it, even other models. She is desired in the industry, her pride lying in her modeling. She is the ideal doll and she is more than aware. She doesn’t shy away from it and makes sure to let everyone know. A woman who sees herself above everyone else, who made something out of herself and her natural beauty. She looks down on just about anyone yet feels like she has every right to do so. After all, she had already proven that she is superior to everyone else.

This is the type of woman Kimiko was and it might be an understatement to say that she fully embraced it. She never knew shame and never saw herself in the wrong. She usually knows better, especially when it comes to her own son. After all, if it were not for her, he would have never started making it as an idol and model. And she truly believes that her son is meant to become a legendary idol like she is… It was his path, wasn’t it? There was no other way, someone who inherited her beauty was always meant to show it off and become a perfect doll, just like she is!

Basically Kimiko has heard that her son is on a hiatus. As she is worried she figured out where he lives now and pays him a visit, just to see how he's doing. She is overbearing and goes to treat him like a little boy. Also she is not exactly holding her tongue either in regards to Ann. But she is just a worried Mo-

No, she ain't. She makes her intentions clear.

“But even then… Are you sure?”

Huh? “Sure of what Mama?” What was she—

“You see… Papa and Mama are worried sick about you Izumi. The last thing we expected from you was to go on a hiatus and disappear from the public eye.”

“Ah— I… I’m sorry for not telling you in advance! You two seem busy lately so—”

“No, it’s fine. Thank you for being so considerate. However, do you really want to stay with her?”

He only looked at his mother, shocked yet irritated. What is she—

“You can always come home, you know, even if only for a short while. After all, we will help you sort things out.”

“I…”

“After all… Mama and Papa know you better than some random, little, barbaric girl. We know what’s best for you.”

She also catches on that the two are dating and needless to say, Kimiko hates it. Yet of course she doesn't say it outright, not towards Izumi at first at least. But she is trying to rig something. And she shows up too much at that home, even uninvited.

And her reaction to Nyeli... Not too good.

Because the moment she had turned her eyes lost all of their life, oddly enough, and her pupils were as dead as they could be. It was all happening so fast, from one moment to the next, yet the next audible thing was a sudden scream from her lips, so loud that it made Nyeli curl his ears so he didn’t have to hear it and close his eyes, tearing up already. He even held them with his nubs, trying to keep them in place. It was probably unbearable for him, not even soft pats could get the cat to calm down. 

It left all of them in a shock, Ann staring at the woman in utter disbelief, mouth gaping open. What was her deal now? What!? How!? Why!? This woman… The nerve… 

“M… Mama!? What’s gotten into you!?” It was a little forced and stuttery but Izumi managed to ask it in the end, the question which had been in their mind right away. Would she answer it though? Of course not. At this very moment it was as if her own son did not exist, or was not present at the very least. 

Instead she stomped over while dashing, getting as close as possible while eyeing Nyeli, even circling around somewhat. Kimiko’s head was moving around like an automatic door, swaying side to side in an unnatural motion. All while her face was devoid of any sort of emotion, her dark blue eyes lacking emotion especially. She didn’t quit it either, eyeing Nyeli as if Ann had been holding a tiny monster in their hands, a creature of some sorts. It took minutes before she backed off, though still looking down at the cat with her gaze. “The brute? What is that doing here?” She asked, no shame, hesitation nor emotion. She was cold, very cold, and direct. No sugarcoating it whatsoever… Brute? Brute!? Did she just call Nyeli a brute!?

Kimiko is basically feeling threatened that she is losing control here, something she makes very obvious. And while Izumi is in denial Ann shows that they despise this woman down to the core.

Their conversation alone together with Kimiko even leads to this line:

“Wenn du mich fragst… Schlampen sollten ihren Mund zum Schwanzlutschen benutzen und ihre Schnauze halten. Mach dich nützlich. Du siehst zumindest so aus, als ob dich Männer ficken wollen.”

Basically Ann calls Kimiko a slut who only has a mouth good for sucking dick and she is only useful for being fucked by guys. Yeah, this is meant to be very vulgar.

The consequences come down and Kimiko is actually close to taking Izumi with her, no questions asked. Though that does not happen because by then Izumi starts to finally realize what his mother is trying, what she wants to push him into. Not to mention that he learns that Nyeli disappearing was her fault and no one else's. This is just a short summary because the conflict is longer but read the longfic I save you that much trouble. What you have to know is that he stands up to his mother and throws her out himself, deciding to no longer listen to her.

Sometime after that Izumi resumes his idol activities yet also secretly dating Ann... 'Secretly' as Knights know too, the bunch caught on asap, yet they keep it a secret in public as well of course. But they are nosy... Arashi especially, she is having a field day here.

Why did I just go through the longfic, somewhat? Because it is essentially the get together story as well as the foundation of everything following up I write with them now. Basically I wanted to outline shortly how these two go from hating each other to being a thing. And I think knowing the entire story adds to how they got where they are now, how it all had gone down. Of course the story covers more than the simple romance but it plays a factor here. I wanted to outline the time where the hatred starts to change and how the two are so close.

With that analysis done... I have more thoughts! Yes, still not done, but close. This is literally just the longfic’s plot.

So, what is next and some other stuff I think about a lot / will write out in near future…

So firstly, of course the constant lingering fear for a while. Sure, the two overcame quite a bit but here's the deal... That doesn't mean that they are free from worries.

Izumi has to constantly worry that his mother just shows up, especially now. Also him having a hint of insecurity maybe, given how he and Ann started out that it is not enough and he could lose them in turn (I wrote a Hanahaki oneshot for a reason, outlining the fear that maybe he doesn't love them or something like that). He doesn't show it a lot of course, not wanting to come off as weak.

Ann themself is constantly in a battle as well, never seeing themself as good enough. Their fear of being left like that is there for some time, either for being a nuisance or for someone better. They believe that they cannot find a reason for him to stay; he will leave eventually. 

This leads into a plotpoint for Part II (yes there will be a second longfic... I am insane, I know) where Ann tries to exhaust themself to the bone to write a movie script themself, even driving insane from it. They want to 'prove their worth'. 

"I… I was scared… That you would… Leave me if I… I failed and… I can't do much else so I… I…"

"Stop with that. No, seriously, stop. So what if you can't write that script?"

"A… Am I tha–"

"Let me finish! Because I am happy for you to get this chance and show your skills off. But here's the thing… You're more than your writing, alright? You've already proven that. And those guys who take it at face value? Screw them. Those who really care will see you for you, no matter who. So even if you hadn't gotten this chance, we would not be disappointed. And by we I mean your parents, Patch, that guy you call your 'brother', Kuma–Kun, the rest of Knights and… Me too. So stop putting yourself down like that, will you?"

They are told that this is bs of course and they are more than a script.

They sure still got some things to work through of course! 

Enough about insecurities!

As for some more fun stuff, or rather calmer... More light hearted stuff to keep in mind or I shall list

Bickering is still here and there of course. Nothing changing there, yet they no longer insult another

Nagging is not uncommon though. Ann is not known for healthy habits so Izumi sure nags a lot there, having to force them to be healthier sometimes. He will also scold them should he catch them up at midnight when in Florenz. Oh yes, he is phoning them up just to yell "GET THE FUCK TO BED!"

They fluster at each other. Ann is a little clingy and touchy (mostly wholesome, though depending on the mood it can be a little more than that), catching Izumi off guard. He sometimes even tries to resist their begging for a hug or other things, solely to not 'spoil them'. He's just embarrassed yet cracks eventually. Of course this is in private, sometimes within the office as well, yet in public it doesn't go too far. As for how he catches them off guard... When he suddenly puts on the charm he literally makes them unable to function, sometimes even running with a beet red face because it is too much for them to handle. No, really, their brain just stops working altogether.

Secret relationship because of what would happen if fans found out an idol is dating someone, that they are unavailable. Some people find out yet keep it a secret as well.

Who is more jealous? Uh... Hard to say, I think it is more circumstantial, maybe even who it is.

A world is shattered when Izumi hears Ann is a fan of Jun Sazanami... I jest not really after they explain that they just like his performance as an idol, being a fan of his like they would be for a musician (if that makes sense) yet it sure led to an interesting conversation.

And that is all! For now. Izuann has necome a bigger beast than anticipated and yeah, I might enjoy the two way too much from a writing perspective. Even if I do not show it lately but I think a longfic of 80k+ words is all the proof needed. And a second one is in the works (currently at the roadmap).

I hope this was fun to read through! Even if it was more of an analysis than a ramble...

[the-voxel]

Is fake dating a thing in voxel media when *vague gesture at the stripes showing emotions*?

Is there a 'stripe change moment' trope when an enemies-to-lovers pairing starts getting into lovers territory?

Do they engage with a lot of non-voxel romance media or do they not 'get it' because it's reliant on humanoid expressions and body language instead of stripe colours?

What would a 'Beauty and the Beast' AU look like to them? Rival athlete AU? X-Men AU? The infamous coffeshop AU?

You can get away with fake dating if you're confident enough. If you're nervous people will find out, they'll all know you're uncomfortable and your nosy great aunt will dig to figure out why. But if you're good friends with your fake partner and relaxed and happy with them, people will buy it. And if you're a little extra giggly about getting away with it? Well that's just new love for ya.

Their stripes turning bright is very similar to when humans blush, so normal romance always has that first moment where their stripes turn very bright with each other. I bet in enemies-to-lovers there's a widely popular moment where one of them will have their stripes go from and angry deep color (say dark red) to a bright one (scarlet) and the enemy in question will suddenly realize everything. Everyone always waits with baited breath to see how the enemy reacts seeing the other has some kind of feelings.

There are a few xenophiles among voxel, who of course are not widely accepted or even known. They may still consider any other species with stripes as objectively beautiful, but not strictly someone they'd want to pursue. But occasionally you'll find one (such as Liithal) who are genuinely attracted to an alien and find their different expressions mysterious and alluring. (if a voxel got with a human, other voxel would consider them a monsterfucker, ESPECIALLY since humans eat meat that's like,,, MASSIVE monsterfucker energy) I have just realized this wasn't your question and will now go on to answer your question.

If they read standard alien romance, they likely wouldn't understand many of the clues and context, meaning all human romance books/movies feel like the kissing comes out of NOWHERE. Not only are human romance stories only set to a time frame of a few days to weeks, but they go through none of the familiar flirting and courting rituals and they go zero recognizable attraction clues.

Many AUs will be similar, but with added layers

'Beauty and the Beast' AU: would be the most different. Of course nothing would have to be changed about the trope for the entire structure to change. To voxel, a beast is something that eats flesh and subsequently has the power to damn a soul, being turned into a beast has MUCH darker implications for the prince. Because as a beast, he's not just "ugly" and outcast, he's essentially the devil of their religion. Quite literally. Their word for predator and their word for evil are the same. So he would be turned into a savage animal that consumes flesh and renders a soul to be lost in the Mirror World.

The Beauty could go a couple ways. Given herself up in place of her father would be seen as the ultimate sacrifice. Because the assumption would be that whoever stayed would be eaten by the Beast. (I can't imagine the father being very liked in this version.) She would start as this ultimate virtuous character, but her felling in love with the Beast would be viewed as her falling from grace. She would be accepting a monster.

Now, the story MAY go the classic fairy tale route, and have the Beast give up feeding because he loves her and refuses to hurt her, and he just slowly starves to death. This may let him die and be redeemed, or he could be transformed back into a prince for learning to love and put other people before himself. It may go the shrek route and have Beauty join the Beast and they become a villain couple to scare little kids into behaving with. Or they may go the disney style and she come to love and understand him more, and she makes him realize what kind of person he wants to be and he has a big heroic moment in the end where he puts everything on the line.

No matter what, this concept is highly complex, factory made to be filled with religious messaging, and can have endless variations.

Rival athlete AU: Not much to change here. Voxel have sports and they get competitive enough for rivalries.

X-Men AU: There may be some reluctance toward getting people to read this one, since the idea of superpowers isn't highly popular. But once you got an audience voxel would LOVE sending characters to the x-men universe. The idea of a voxel going to Xavier's school and being surrounded by humans would resonate with how many voxel feel about taking their place among the galaxy. It would have all the usual x-men themes of acceptance and equality.

The infamous coffeshop AU: Well, as they function on communism, there is a stark lack of shop to go with their coffee. Also, voxel don't really have an equivalent to coffee to be putting in these shops. It's probably more common to write about characters working in a brewery together. They can have to romantic tension over tasting for fermentation levels together, pine while watching each other suggest fine thick wines to a mother planning her kid's wedding, and of course there has to be that one scene where they get a lil tipsy and confess their feelings. Just all around, this is what they write instead of a coffeeshop.