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bob-artist · 3 months

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Just found you via your funny dream comic. Good stuff 😆. Definitely gonna read the rest, and I was surprised you had your own website. Looks good on mobile too. I’ve got a comic that some friends keep trying to build me a site for but I’ve been telling them no because it seems like between webtoon and social media nobody is interested in personal sites anymore.

Have you noticed an uptick in engagement from your site? Would you recommend going that route? I’d like to hear your thoughts.

I’m also interested in how you decided to build/host it, if that question isn’t too lame.

Anyway, glad I found your comics!

Ah thank you for checking out Into the Smoke's website!!

Oh, I have SO many thoughts about independent webcomic sites and why people should have them. I have so many thoughts, and I'm so so sorry.

Why did I decide to have my own webcomic site?

First of all, this is not a lame question and I wish we could all have this conversation more often, so I could maybe write just a paragraph instead of this whole dissertation!

1. Because I lived through webcomics history.

I launched my first webcomic in 2011. I watched the webcomics scene shift over the years from self-hosted sites to third party sites, and I saw what it meant for independent creators. We lost vital infrastructure, relationships, habits, and control over our own work. I think self-hosted sites are an important backbone for creators, even if/when their largest *numbers* come from a third party site.

We’re all supposed to be helping each other, not fighting each other to satisfy the algorithm. Our early tools (webrings, link trades, comic databases, sharing each other’s posts) were small but meaningful, and they also helped us maintain a community mindset in a long and sometimes lonely line of work. When we started leaning on hosting sites, we let a lot of those tools and relationships decay. And now a lot of people are locked into imbalanced relationships with hosting sites that leave them with very little agency and control over their work and how it’s shared (or isn’t shared).

Hosting sites are great for removing barriers to entry (cost/time to build a site). And a lot of them have large built-in audiences. But the big ones aren’t run by people who care about creators. They’re designed to extract the maximum value from your work while giving you the least they can get away with. Use them if you want (I do), but don't be dependent on them.

2. Comics are the main thing I do for a living, and a website gives me the tools to promote my work and build relationships with my readers.

Most apps and third party sites actively prevent or suppress these things. On your own site, you can share all the info you want about your upcoming Kickstarter, your tradpub book release, your merch, etc. You can collect email addresses for your newsletter. You can literally just talk about your weekend, and you’re not gonna have a 150-character limit.

Yeah, not everyone wants to read a wall of text (ha ha...), but acting like a person reminds readers to treat you like a person. This is one of my main gripes with the apps and social media - they suppress human connection and present you like a cog in their machine that only exists to churn out free content.

3. I have a consistent home base and full control over how my work is displayed.

I don’t have to fight against an app that’s trying to direct my readers toward whichever content is most profitable for them. On an app, the readers “belong” to them, not you. (Who has their email addresses?) So if I'm putting effort into promoting my comic, I'm promoting my own site. (oh look, I just did it.)

Hosting sites/apps aren't designed to showcase your work. They showcase the app’s collection, and they're designed to keep readers on the app, jumping from creator to creator. This can help readers find you, but it also devalues your work and dilutes its impact.

And the app might not show your work to anyone anyway. Tapas is a great example; they recently redesigned their site to prioritize their Originals, and independent creators are hidden away in a “community” tab with barely any discoverability anymore. This is always the struggle on a third party site.

4. I hate censorship.

Into the Smoke is Teen 16/17+ and Demon of the Underground is R/18+. My comics aren’t even explicit, but I still can’t post my true, uncensored vision for either story on third party apps governed by Apple’s App Store and Visa/Mastercard’s tight content restrictions.

If webcomics exist exclusively on apps with heavy censorship, we’ll never have the diversity of storytelling and freedom of expression that’s necessary for groundbreaking or subversive art to happen. And that’s bad for everyone.

Adult brains need to engage with adult concepts. Difficult and triggering topics need to be explored in creative spaces. Artists need freedom to stretch their creative muscles without falling into the damaging patterns of self-censorship that come from having to tiptoe around arbitrary platform rules.

We can’t let the rules of like 3 American companies dictate what every webcomic reader around the world is allowed to read.

5. An independent website can’t easily be taken away from you.

Just make regular backups! You can always move to a new web host and redirect URLs if needed, and you won't lose your readers. On the other hand, you can easily lose the bulk of your audience on a third party site based on circumstances outside your control.

Let’s talk about Smack Jeeves, a formerly popular webcomic hosting site that was bought out and then shut down, leaving lots of cartoonists homeless. Or we can talk about the Tumblr NSFW purge of 2018, where I lost a huge chunk of my first webcomic’s following and most of my webcomic mutuals, even though my own account stayed within the rules. Or Musk buying Twitter, the platform where I once found my literary agent through a publishing event but now get no traction at all.

Have I noticed an uptick in engagement from my site?

I don’t have analytics on my site yet. But, up until a few days ago, that's where people were reading, thanks to my own efforts and the support of my comics friends and all of y’all who shared my ITS posts. (THANK YOU ALL!) I didn't have any discoverability on Webtoon or Tapas yet.

I got 10-15 new patrons between May 25 and June 5. Up until a few days ago, I even had more ITS newsletter subscribers than Webtoon subscribers.

What happened a few days ago is my Webtoon mirror suddenly blew up with 100+ new subs a day. I don’t know where I’m being featured, but I know I’m only getting those readers because Webtoon suddenly chose to grant me visibility. That can end just as instantly with an algorithm tweak or them deciding not to show my comic anymore. (When my first webcomic was in one of their pay programs in 2018, I went from $300 or $400/month to $0 overnight due to a policy change.) So I’ll enjoy it while it lasts, but I won't de-prioritize my website.

The new Webtoon readers are awesome and supportive, and I’m 100% thrilled to have them. But the Webtoon influx isn't resulting in a Patreon influx like my website launch did. I wouldn't expect it to, this early in the story. But it's consistent with my past experience polling my patrons: even when 50% of my readers came from the apps, 90% of patrons read on my website. (Your audience may vary.) And since I depend on crowdfunding for my comic, that's important to me.

Would I recommend going the route of having your own site?

For anyone who’s just testing the waters with webcomics, it might be overkill.

But for anyone who’s committed to their webcomic, I recommend having your own site AND mirroring on every third party site you can, provided you’re cool with their terms of service. It's important to meet readers where they are. Let those hosting sites lend you their readers. Some readers will even want to visit your home site where they can read ahead, read the uncensored version of your comic, get more info, or sign up for your newsletter.

Just remember, no one will discover your independent website all on their own. They’ll only find it through the work you put into promotion. But the reader that cares enough to come to your home site is a special type of reader.

So how do you get readers to visit an independent webcomic site?

Find your allies

These are people who work in similar areas as you who want to help you succeed, and whom you want to help succeed. Chat with each other, help each other, promote each other, boost each other, link to each other (psst, my links page just went live!), be there for each other - behind the scenes and in public.

God, I am SO bad at approaching people, but this is important, and not just for comics.

Be part of a community

Really, this is an extension of the above point. It's easier to find your allies if you're part of a community.

I’m a member of the Cartoonist Cooperative, and they’re a GREAT group of talented people all across the comics industry. The mission of @cartoonistcoop is to help create better conditions for comic workers through cooperation and collective action, and I’ve found so much help from them with Into the Smoke and comics as a whole. (JOIN! They're great!!)

The goal of the co-op isn't to drive traffic to your website. But being part of it has helped me at every level of crafting my comic, including promoting it and making it good enough that I can take pride in promoting it. And it's helped me ground myself as part of a community after I lost so much of mine in past years of burnout and platform enshittification.

Another option: @spiderforestcomics is a great webcomic collective full of supportive creators, and I believe they’re open to submissions till the end of June! They also have an awesome collaborative community mindset, and I've known some of their members for years.

Direct readers to your RSS feed and newsletter

Getting readers to your website is great, but they need to keep coming back for future updates, and it’s hard to remind them without an app notification. You may need to teach younger readers what RSS feeds are. Inoreader is a great RSS reader for the 2024 era.

The dreaded SEO

That’s Search Engine Optimization - optimizing your website so that people can easily find your comic via search engines. That’s a topic for another day, but feel free to research it!

Paid promo

This can be tricky, and I really only recommend spending promo money if you’re making a comic on a professional basis, because then it’s an investment you'll make back.

That said, Comicad.net is a great independent site where you can buy banner slots on other creators’ sites. I just ran small campaign myself. (And no, I won’t ever be offended if you outbid me!)

I haven’t bought any Tumblr Blaze slots, but I got BOPPed (blaze other people’s posts; apparently that’s what it’s called, lol) once on this account and once on a side blog, and both were highly impactful. (Thanks, friend!!) So I consider it a solid option, and it looks really cheap compared to other social media sites. (Never trust Meta.)

And where can you learn more about building a webcomic site?

I know you didn't ask, but if I'm gonna share all this, I might as well give folks a starting place to actually do the thing.

Now, I’m *bad* at offering cheap and easy web solutions. My specialty is hard and expensive. But my one piece of advice: PLEASE make your webcomic site mobile friendly for the current generation of readers! When we talk about barriers to entry, remember that more people have phones than computers, and many can't afford computers.

Anyway, here's some webcomic website resources from OTHER people!

The Cartoonist Co-op has LOTS of great resources on building webcomic sites! Several of them! Check them all out!

@screentonescast has a podcast episode on webcomic web design and one on RSS feeds!

@jeypawlik also has a great comic about how RSS feeds work.

So, congrats if you made it this far. Go make a website, y'all! And if you read any indie comics, go visit the creator's website!

#replies #asks #webcomic #webcomics #webcomic websites #comic resources #webcomic resources #long post #web design

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okiedokrie · 5 months

Text

High Infidelity

Summary: There are many different ways that you could kill the one you love, the slowest way is never loving them enough. So what happens when you find someone who was all too willing to give you thee attention you craved, you said you'd only dip your toes into the idea, and yet, you find yourself already drowning. The novel you've been writing has been in progress for the better half of two years now, your writer's block beating you up, and your husband hasn't shown you any sympathy. Maybe a visit to the art exhibit from this new artist would jog your creativity, but what happens when this new artist offers you more than just relief from your writer's block?

Characters/Pairing(s): Xu Minghao (The8) x F!Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

AUs/Trope info: Non-idol!AU, Aged-Up!AU, Right Person (not) Too Late

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Infidelity, very inappropriate conversations with a married woman, afab!reader, wears dresses, lmk if i miss something!! (Smut warnings under the cut)

Rating: 18+

A/N: banner and dividers by @daemour!! tysm!! This is also a rewrite/reupload of my own fic, "High Infidelity" on @pyeonghongrie, yes I reskinned my own fic.

A/N 2: Thanks to @nebulousbrainsoup, @kwanisms, @the-boy-meets-evil, @wooahaeproductions, and @gongiz for beta-reading!

Smut Warnings: tipsy sex (not drunk), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple stimulation, masturbation, lmk if i missed anything!

The rain soaked into your skin—cold and icy—piercing you painfully. All your personal belongings were strewn all around you, and your soon-to-be ex-husband was angrily slamming the door shut, but you couldn't help but feel relieved.

After all, you were finally free.

"I'm right here, honey, I love you." He whispers into your skin, slowly unbuttoning your shirt, one button at a time. He kisses your skin every time new skin is revealed to both of you, he kisses your skin so delicately as if you'd break at the slightest touch-

"Y/N, you still haven't dealt with the dishes yet." Your husband, Haru, said monotonously just as you were starting to gain momentum in your writing.

You groan, the interruption making you lose focus and motivation to write. You stare at the last word on your document, gaze burning into each pixel as if hoping that this piece would write itself.

Unfortunately, life said, "Fuck you."

With another groan, you rub and pinch the bridge of your nose, a headache starting to settle in as your husband returns to work as if he didn't just cause you a serious inconvenience.

Standing from your comfortable computer chair, you take calm and even strides toward your kitchen, where only a handful of dishes are left in the sink.

And this little shit didn't even bother washing like, what? 8 dishes? He has to be kidding me, men.

You thought to yourself, your inner monologue only making you more irritated. But you wash them in silence, thinking of ways to calm down and clear your head so you have a clean slate to work with to get inspired again.

I think I should visit the gallery again, there's this new artist that I've been following. He's getting pretty popular, maybe I could draw inspiration from his work?

You think maybe this is the best idea you've had since you put bacon bits on mac & cheese.

Taking the time to visit this gorgeous gallery was the correct move.

Xu Minghao is a passionate man, you can see his dedication to his craft in all the pieces in this gallery. He was a mixed media artist, sometimes his work was pops of color on a canvas, others were sculptures made of clay, made with the most delicate of hands, and others were more niche, like the stained glass piece in another part of the gallery.

One thing about Minghao's work is that his subjects are also subjects of passion.

Paintings of a man's devotion to worshiping his lover's skin, a stained glass recreation of The Birth of Venus by Botticelli, and his latest masterpiece, simply titled "Passion", a sculpture of a woman in the throes of pleasure, with her lover holding her close to him, no gap between their skin, eternally locked in a passionate embrace.

As a romance writer, this is exactly what you need.

You take in this sculpture, the light of the gallery display emphasizing the delicate attention to detail this piece had, you know the man who made this takes pride in this, his work, skills, and dedication finally being realized.

You stare in awe at this piece for a little over 20 minutes, the more you look at it, the more entranced you become of the mastery of this craft.

You feel a presence beside you, a man around 5'11", slightly muscular build, in a turtleneck with glasses sitting delicately on his nose. He has a peculiar hairstyle, a mullet to be exact, and the most gorgeous face you've ever laid your eyes on.

"I see you like this piece in particular," He started, hands in his trouser pockets while smiling fondly at the piece, "'Passion' was a difficult piece for me to finish, ironically enough, I got bored of it quite easily." He continues, turning to face you.

"I'm Minghao, by the way, Xu Minghao. If you haven't already figured it out." He takes a hand out of his pocket, extending it towards you.

"Oh, I'm Y/N, Park Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you, Minghao. Your exhibit is astounding, I love your dedication to your work." You take his hand to shake it,

He chuckles at the compliment, "Oh please, save your praise, I know that name from anywhere. I love your latest work, that book was what inspired this entire collection, to begin with."

You gawk at him, oh my god, he reads smut. My smut.

"Oh my, what an honor! I'm glad you also enjoy my work." You receive the compliment gracefully, "Although, I do want to hear more about why you got bored of this piece in particular, such a wonder to the arts community, surely you aren't downplaying your work?"

He smiles, perfect teeth on display, you swear you’ve never looked at a man like this in your life. You were down bad for his smile.

"I'm not saying I think it's bad, I just got bored of the creative process." He explains, "Although I do want to continue adding to this collection, perhaps we can go and get drinks together? Exchange ideas?" he offers.

You ponder on this for a bit. Going out to drinks with a budding friend wouldn't hurt, right?

"Could I give you my number? Let's set aside a day to chat. I have to get home to my husband before it gets too late."

A smirk came into his face, something dark about a seemingly insignificant change in his expression, “Of course, I look forward to our time together.”

The mug in your hands warmed your palms, and your focus was fixated on the man in front of you. He talked about another piece of his, titled “Longing”; it was heavily inspired by his desire to find someone who shares the same passion as him, the longing to hold someone in a way that nobody else could, intimacy in its purest form.

“It sounds a bit pathetic, I’m known for my work in the art of passion and, to put it simply, sex; but I haven’t been able to find the company of a lover myself. Perhaps that’s just the consequence of being a hopeless romantic. Then again, you wouldn’t know the feeling of being lonely, I assume.” He said calmly, a small chuckle ending his tangent.

“Oh I wouldn’t say that,” You look into the mug in your hands, your reflection swirling in the tea. Your face looks back at you, eyes sunken in and sad, “To put it nicely… my husband robs me of solitude, but fails to offer me company.” You shouldn’t be talking about Haru like this. Your husband works many hours, tirelessly providing you with the house and connections for you to pursue a career in writing. But that wasn’t the reason why your anxiety was swirling in your stomach.

Looking back up at Minghao, the same dark expression sits on his face, a minuscule smirk, barely there even if you squint, “Well, we’re friends now, aren’t we? I could keep you company.”

That. That was a quality of his that you noticed fairly early on. You can never read his true intentions, suggestive prose with just enough deniability to gracefully reject him without the conversation becoming inappropriate.

But your anxiety wasn’t caused by that, no, it was caused by the fact that you didn’t want to reject him.

“I’d like that, Maybe we could head to a bar and get drinks there too? My husband won’t be back for a few months because of a business trip in a few weeks. I could use the company.” You say, looking at him through your lashes; he knows his effect on you, and the mental gymnastics that both of you play over the table was just appropriate enough that to anyone listening, it’s just two friends agreeing to get drinks sometime in the future.

But to both of you, well, only the two of you know what’ll happen once the sun goes down.

“Of course, my schedule is free for the rest of the month. Be sure to think of me if you need company.” He offers you a soft smile, directly contrasting how intensely he’s making eye contact with you. The way he’s looking into your eyes makes you feel vulnerable like he’s directly using them as windows into your head. You’re half-convinced he could read your mind, if he could, he’s a master at hiding it.

You haven’t learned much about him, but from what you do know, you can never take his words at surface level, much less his actions. The way he’s leaning over the table, elbows on the surface, and his shoulders relaxed. His closing the distance, even if just by a hair, and the way his posture suggested the epitome of familiarity, shook you to your core.

His presence is almost suffocating, his dominance over your mind silencing whatever protest his suggestions may have created. You nod dumbly, “Of course, be warned though, I think of you a lot.” This causes his smile to relax into a smirk, the kind that could pass off as a smile if you don’t think too hard about it.

“I’m glad to hear that. I think about you a lot too.” He says picking up his cup of tea, “So much that a collection was born from the thought of you.” He takes a sip from the cup in his hands, eyes meeting yours over the rim of the cup, the way he holds eye contact with you always makes goosebumps litter your skin, the cup hiding the growing smirk on his face, silently enjoying his effect on you.

“Ah, speaking of the collection,” He started again, after setting the cup down, “Would you do me the honor of visiting my studio sometime? I’ll text you the address right now, you can come by at any time if you’re interested.” Taking his phone out from his pocket, feeling your phone vibrate in your pocket, you pick it up. The small device, usually light, feels like a heavy weight on your palm.

Opening your messages, you see that Minghao already sent the address, a building about 20 minutes from the cafe you’re in right now. “Lovely, could I trouble you to pick me up when I decide to visit?” You ask,

“Of course,” He replies, a gentle smile stretches across his face, “I’d love nothing more than to see you more often.”

The first time you entered Minghao’s studio, it felt like a dream. The studio wasn’t small by any means, the place was neat, neater than what you imagined any artist studio would look like. “Make yourself at home, I’ll brew some tea for us,” Minghao said as he took both your coats. Hanging the heavy fabrics on his coat rack, he gently guides you to the couches with a hand on your back, the light touch helping to ground you in this new environment.

He shoots you a quick smile before turning his back to you, setting his electric kettle to boil the water at the perfect temperature for tea. He rummages through his extensive tea set collection, settling on a simple white ceramic set with wooden handles. His eyes meet yours briefly, taking note of how you watch his every movement with care and curiosity, the way you were fascinated with the way his hand veins jumped every time he set a piece of the tea set down.

The kettle finishes boiling, he finally sets it down next to the tea set. “I want to introduce you to this teacake that my friend from home sent me,” He pulls out a teacake about the size of his head from the drawer under the table, wrapped in a slightly stained paper. He carefully unwraps it to show you the rich brown of the aged tea leaves, “This is a 15-year-old aged pu’er, I haven’t had the chance to try it yet, so I’d like to try this with you.”

“What an honor, I read from a recent interview that you were waiting for a good day to taste that right?” You ask, trying to gauge his reaction, if he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it,

“Of course, making a new friend is a special occasion, isn’t it? I’d consider that a good day.” He replies cooly, taking a tea knife and carving out a piece of tea to steep for a second, you watch as he delicately handles the porcelain set, the control in his movements reminding you of his mastery in sculpting, “You know, making tea is much like cultivating a new relationship,” he starts as he stands up to take the kettle off the stand.

“You carefully carve out your leaves, boil your water to the perfect temperature to bloom them, and steep the leaves a few seconds at a time.” You see him pour the water over the tea leaves, dried blades blooming like flowers under the delicate stream. “Each steep of tea is different, starting from the bloom until the flavor develops; and only then will you appreciate the true complexities of what tea has to offer.”

A small smile grows on your face as you watch him pour the first bloom onto his tea pets, “If my assessment is correct, you’re trying to correlate the developing flavors of tea with how our relationship is progressing?” He nods, confirming your hypothesis, “Then, I’ll ask you a question, which steep are we on?” you say with a cheeky smile.

Minhao grins at this, eyes almost disappearing with how wide his smile was, “Literally? The second steep.” He says as he pours more water over the leaves, you let out a chuckle at his little joke, “Figuratively? The fifth.”

You tilt your head a bit, “The fifth? I didn’t realize we were already at that stage.” you say as you accept his offer of a teacup.

He chuckles, “Well, I don’t just share my most expensive teas with anyone, so I might as well share it with one of the most brilliant minds I know.” he said while bringing the cup to his lips, sipping the drink carefully while making eye contact with you over the rim, winking playfully.

You raise your cup as well, the rising steam not being the only reason for your flushed face, you grin against the rim of your cup, savoring the rich and deep aroma of the high-quality tea.

After a while of banter and small talk, you finish your tea, setting down your cup gently on his expensive-feeling coffee table, he stands from his seat, “Could I show you something?” he said, holding his hand out to you. You place your palm on his, the warmth from his hand seeping into your skin. The touch was negligible, simple, even, but the contact with his skin sent electricity through you, like a violent jolt of excitement.

Minghao notices this and smirks, feeling pride swell up in his chest as he pulls you up from the couch, leading you to the other side of the room with a hand on the small of your back. He finally stops in front of a large canvas, laid across what looks like a bare-bones bed frame. You turn to him, curiosity growing on the expression of your face.

“What’s this? This looks fairly new, the paint on the frame still seems wet.” You ask, eyes raking over the splotches of color seemingly placed without much thought or care, it looked like the aftermath of a messy and angry paint spill.

“It is new,” Minghao starts, “I’m trying a new technique where I release frustrations by getting whatever paint catches my eye and throwing cups of it without much thought.” He shrugs, nothing particularly of note, but you do notice the amount of emotion that is in the piece.

“It’s not an elegant piece, but for a collection centered around passion I find it missing raw emotion.” He runs his hand through his face, frustration taking over his features, something you noticed early on was his emotions were closely tied to whatever art was around him, it seems as though the frustration in this one was affecting him at this moment.

“Yes, the human form and sex are great subjects, but pure, raw emotion is hard to capture.” He mumbled, eyebrows furrowing. “So, that’s why I invited you here. Tell me, as someone who’s written longing, despair, and everything in between. How does this make you feel?”

You pause and take in his words, turning back to the canvas and trying to soak in the colors, the shapes, and the emotion behind this piece. Yes, frustration is here. Yes, anger is here. But how does it make you feel?

“It makes me feel like I’m missing out on something.” You say simply, your stomach sinking just thinking about what that might entail. Minghao has a genuine look of shock for the first time since you’ve met him. His head tilted to give his attention to you fully.

“Really? Interesting. That’s the first time I heard that about this piece specifically.” He said with a lopsided grin, seemingly getting a new stroke of genius with your answer. He looks back at the canvas too, shoulders shaking from his restricted laughs. Your answer seemed to entertain him a lot. That much you can figure out, but you can never be sure what goes on in the mind of Xu Minghao.

Just then, your phone starts to ring, you only know one person who would call you at this hour—your Husband. You watch as the expression on Minghao’s face falls, face contorting into something short of a scowl for a split second before settling on his usual cool neutral expression. It was so quick that you barely missed the change, it happened so quickly that you decided it was all in your imagination as you ran to answer the phone.

You pick up the phone, “Hi honey-” You were cut off by your husband speaking,

“Get home, it’s getting late and you haven’t started dinner yet.” He said simply, before promptly dropping the call.

You stand there, the line going dead as you try to hold back tears. You take a deep breath, too afraid to show your face to Minghao in case tears were about to fall from your face. Grabbing your coat, you turn to face the door.

“Thank you for inviting me over, I have to get home now,” you said, your voice a little shaky, as you roughly opened the door.

You were out of his sight as Minghao stood alone in his studio, pondering. As silence took over the space, a dark smirk on his face.

'How long before you break?' he wonders.

The next time you and Minghao meet, you’re sitting on a park bench watching the autumn leaves dance to the silent song in the wind. You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you hear leaves crunch beside you, seeing the tail of Minghao’s long coat swaying in the wind.

He sees you, a smile spreading across his face, his long hair almost covering his face. His fast-paced walking makes the leaves crunch under his weight rhythmically. You think that he looks beautiful under the soft brightness of the autumn morning, only ever seeing him in the harsh rays of high noon or the constant humming of fluorescent lights.

You feel the heat radiating off his body through your and his coats as he sits next to you on the park bench. “Beautiful morning, the view is exquisite.” He says, looking directly at you. You giggle at this, he’s always been such a charmer ever since you met him. You peel the notebook from your lap, “I’m no artist, but the park is too gorgeous this time of year to not at least try to capture on paper.” you say as you open it to show him a relatively crude sketch of the scenery.

“Oh? This feels like a threat to my career.” He says with a chuckle, “But, genuinely, this is an amazing sketch. Are you sure you aren’t an artist?” You think you could get used to how relaxed you were around Minghao, conversations with him flowed so easily, it reminds you of the times your husband used to be invested in you as a person. Perhaps it was easier to compare the thrill of meeting a new person with feeling the start of a romantic spark, it was a dangerous game to play with him.

“No, I’m not, but I can appreciate a masterpiece when I see one.” You say, this time looking at him. He notices this and laughs at the fact that his joke is being used against him. He closes the notebook, handing it to you to put in your tote bag.

“The weather is perfect for a walk, care to join me?” He said, offering his hand for you to take. You accept the offer, the warmth of his palm being something to ground you on such a dreamy morning. Leaves crunch under both your weights in synch, your hand moves from his to hold onto his arm, and you try not to notice the lean muscle of it or the steady and secure way he guides you through the path.

You breathe in the autumn chill, enjoying the comfortable silence that followed the quiet whistle of the wind. “Your book,” Minghao said, his silky voice cutting through the silence effortlessly, “The one that inspired the collection, I’ve been following your publisher’s updates on the series, and I was wondering if you'd be able to share your progress on the second book?”

“Ah, about that.” You grimace, and you shake your head, quelling the urge to complain about your husband’s lack of sympathy for your predicament. “Maybe I’ll tell you another time, it’s not something I can talk about at the moment.”

He hums, luckily, Minghao was never the type to pry, “I get it, ever the tortured poet you are.” he said in a joking tone, you let out a chortle at this, agreeing that you may or may not be one.

Both of you are stopped by a flower vendor, “You both are a lovely pair,” The old man starts, as he turns to Minghao, he asks, “Could I interest you in some flowers? I’m sure your lady would appreciate them.” He smiles.

Before you can correct the old man, Minghao speaks up, “Of course, could I take three of these?” He said, pointing at the basket of Jonquils.

“Of course, you’re in luck too, these are the last off-season flowers I had in my greenhouse.” the old man said as his nimble fingers wrapped the flowers in some yellow tissue paper.

“I'm really lucky indeed.” He agreed while looking at you, your cheeks warming up at the implication. Minghao accepts the flowers and happily pays for them, gracefully handing the bundle to you.

Holding onto the stems, your fingertips graze over the delicate petals of the bright yellow flowers. “Thank you Minghao, they're beautiful.”

He smiles at the way you look at the flowers fondly, simply adoring the way your face lit up; literally, the yellow from the flowers reflected off your face and gave it a yellow hue.

“Shall we continue to walk?” He asks, offering his arm for you to hold again, you hold onto it, the flowers in your other hand. And you let the silence take over again.

Before you knew it, you've spent the entire day laughing and talking with Minghao, only stopping at several vendors for food and other trinkets, feeding the ducks berries, and watching the fish in the pond.

But the day has to end at some point.

You regretfully leave Minghao at the train station, waving goodbye through the glass of the train doors as you watch his figure get smaller and smaller.

Arriving home, you try to find a vase to put your flowers in, setting it down on the kitchen counter, your husband walks in and sees them.

“They're ugly, don't put them anywhere where I could see them.”

He said coldly, you try your best not to scoff at him, still searching for a vacant vase.

Finally finding one, you decide to place the flower vase on the windowsill of your office, the bright flowers contrasting everything else in the room, the dark and neutral furniture your husband got for you.

You jolt, realizing you're comparing your husband to another man.

You expected guilt to eat you up at the realization, but really, you couldn't find a reason to keep defending Haru.

“Could you come over to the studio later tonight? I don't think I should be alone.”

This text from Minghao worried you a bit, you've been spending a lot of time with him recently, you met him 6 more times after he got you flowers at the park, and you never noticed that he could deal with something so sinister.

Of course, you agree to come, your closest confidant in your adult life needs you right now. You wait for your husband to fall asleep in his office, again, before you leave the house, walking to the end of the block before calling a cab.

Arriving at his studio, you already knew the code, punching in the numbers 150526 on the smart lock, the studio opens with a click.

You take cautious steps into the studio, seeing the silhouette of a man on the couch, his back towards the door, nursing what you assume is a wine glass in his hand.

He turns his head to face the door, “You came.” He said, with relief in his voice, a little slurred from the alcohol you assume.

“You called.” You replied. Shrugging off your coat to hang, you join him on the couch. He looked a lot more disheveled compared to the usual clean and put-together Minghao that you know.

His hair is slicked back, some pieces of hair falling onto his face, his tie loosened, his shirt unbuttoned to reveal his collarbones and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. And glasses resting lowly on his nose.

You look at his face, and you notice dark circles around his eyes.

“Drink, and stay with me. Please.” He asks, no, almost begs you. You don't have the heart to decline. He pours you your glass and you both toast your glasses together.

You take the normal sip and he downs the rest of his, taking in a deep breath as if to steady himself. “Y/N, there's something I need to tell you.”

Your stomach drops at this, anxiety filling the pit of it as you nervously wait for the rest of what he has to say.

“I think I'm in love with-” he pauses, “someone I shouldn't be in love with.” He finishes, leaning forward to pour himself another glass of wine.

Your face falls only slightly, a minuscule change in expression that neither you nor Minghao catch. You cross your hands over your lap as soon as you realize your silence.

“Why can't you be in love with them?” You ask. Your head tilts as you take another sip of your wine. He hums, a smile graces his lips, but it doesn't seem to reach his eyes.

“They refuse to be vulnerable with me, opening up throughout our time together then closing back in the next time I see them.” He says with some fondness, “Also, they're married to someone else.”

“You probably should've led with that.” You mumble lowly, “I see, I know that all too well, wanting someone you can't have, someone so close yet so far. It's suffocating, especially when you haven't felt like yourself in so long, and then this person comes around and gives color back to your sad, gray, life. It's cruel, actually.”

You realize you've been rambling, turning to meet Minghao's eyes, you notice an emotion swirling behind them, something bittersweet, a realization that may change the course of your relationship.

“Anyway, how did you end up falling for them in the first place?” You ask in an attempt to bring the conversation back to him,

“Well, at first it was just a cure for boredom, I saw how receptive they were to my advances and I thought their marriage served as a fun, harmless challenge for me. But I got to know them, spend time with them, I got to witness the color come back into their face and I couldn't help but find it beautiful. That fact that I did that, bring color back into their face, slowly becoming someone again. The moment I saw their face light up with a simple gift I knew I was down, down bad.”

You hum, thinking the person Minghao was talking about is one of the luckiest people in the world right now. To be loved by him was like witnessing Orpheus’ choiceless grief that drove him to save his lover from the underworld, it was like feeling the devotee's dread-filled need to turn around, it was like experiencing the immediate forgiveness of Eurydice.

You wanted to be loved by him.

You both continue to chat and drink, and it isn't long before the two of you finish your second bottle of wine, Minghao offers to pay for your cab home, and he decides he's going to sleep in his studio.

You reflect on the events of that night as you slip into the cold covers of your marital bed, your husband’s side tidy as it was for the past month.

You run your hand over the pristine and cold sheet, imagining someone else filling its space on your bed, as he does your heart.

Minghao added a new piece to his collection, his gallery is still a work in progress and you walk through familiar doors. The very same statue you were entranced by still sits by the entrance, and you see a very familiar figure standing in front of it.

“I feel like this already happened before.” You said cheekily, he snorts at this, handing you a paper bag with tissue paper peeking from the top.

“Maybe this happened before in a dream, maybe we were destined to meet under the judgemental fluorescent lights.” He jokes as you feel the weight of the bag on your fingers.

“What's in the bag, Hao?” You ask cautiously, mischief flashing on his face before he fully turns his body to you, giving you his full attention.

“It's something you might like, maybe.” He said, his confidence faltering toward the end of his sentence. Tucking his hands into his trouser pockets, he eagerly waits for you to open the semi-heavy bag.

You carefully move the paper to the side of the bag, seeing white porcelain peaking back at you, you whip your head with with your face showing an expression of surprise. Minghao smiles, enjoying your reaction to his gift.

“You got me a tea set? That's so thoughtful, thank you.” You say with a smile, inspecting the frog patterns in the glaze.

“You mentioned your husband is leaving for a business trip soon, so I figured you'd like a set so we can have tea at your place. I'll even bring you a teacake to keep.” He said as he pulled a hand out of his trousers, fixing a stray hair that fell from your up-do.

“It's perfect, thank you.” You said, looking up at him, a smile still on your face.

“Do you want to walk around the gallery with me? I added a few pieces since then, and I'd like to talk about them.” he said, offering his arm. You wrap another hand around him, the familiarity of his arm under your palm giving you a sense of calm.

You spent the rest of the day walking around the gallery and chatting, other gallery-goers openly gawked at Minghao. It was obvious, really, the artist is here in the flesh, and he's gorgeous.

Minghao stopped to entertain other guests too, seeing him in his element made pride swell in your chest. His work, and by extension him, is finally being recognized by more people in the community. His hard work and dedication paid off handsomely.

Stopping in front of a mural, you noticed it was a replica of a really old painting. A painting of Ares and Aphrodite getting caught by Hephestus.

“Oof, poor bastards.” You joke, Minghao found this funny too, chuckling with you.

“It’s almost comical how this painting compelled me. I don't know what drove me to recreate the thing as a whole mural, but we both know I'm a little crazy.” He says with a playful groan, you try to hold back a loud laugh by giggling into your palm.

“Well, dear Xu Minghao, everyone knows crazy people are geniuses.” squeezing his arm, you check out the side of his face. His side profile was so sharp and soft at the same time, the dichotomy of his features was an easy subject to study. He's a gorgeous man, too gorgeous for his own good you think.

You both sat down on the bench in front of the mural to chat, and before you knew it, enough time has passed that the gallery was about to close.

Minghao calls a cab for you, and you arrive home in-tact, but not safe.

“Y/n, where have you been running off to these past few weeks?” Your husband questioned you as soon as you entered your home. Your mood instantly dropped, feeling the weight of your actions all at once.

“I'm hanging out with a friend, and it's really not that deep. It's not like I've neglected house work at all. So you should have a reason to care.” You snap back, a little too much for such a simple query. Your husband rises from his seat, cupping your face with a gentle hand for the first time in a long time.

“You’re my wife, of course it's my concern.” He said, just as he was about to make you fall for him again, he said, “We haven't been intimate in a long time, I'm leaving in a few days, so I want to make love to you before I go.”

Ah, there it was. He only ever shows affection for you when he's asking for sex nowadays.

You nod, what followed was unfulfilling and unsatisfying sex. Missionary, a few pumps just to get him off, and he didn't even kiss you.

And obviously, he didn't make you cum.

Your husband is fast asleep in your bed for the first time in months, and yet you can't find it in yourself to be happy about it.

You take out your trusty friend, egg.

The jolts to life with steady vibrations as you press the toy to your clit, relaxing into the sheets as you imagine a pair of calloused hands roaming the plane of your skin.

Controlled pressure and technique only a sculptor could have, his hair falling over his face, and his eyes holding you gaze as if you gave him everything he could ever want by simply existing.

He looks at you like you hung each star in the sky just for him, just so he could watch your skin bathed in moonlight, twinkling like the most precious diamond he could ever have.

This man isn't your husband, It was Minghao.

Your orgasm came unexpectedly, the realization that you were fantasizing about him snapped you back into reality so violently that you ruined your own orgasm.

You huff as you tuck the toy back into its drawer, pulling up the covers to try and sleep off the guilt.

Your husband left for his business trip a few days ago, and you made preparations for your first guest in a while. You finally set up the tea set when you heard a knock at your door, springing up, you head towards the door to look through the peephole, you see Minghao dressed a little more casually, a cap on his head and a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

You swiftly unlock the door for him, he smiles upon seeing you, tipping his cap, he says, “Good evening, it's a pleasure to finally be invited into your home.” You greet him back, stepping to the side to let him enter. As he does, he takes his cap off to let his hair fall onto his face again.

He offers you the flowers and you take them, “I'll go find a vase for these, make yourself at home, dinner is still cooking in the oven.” You said as you turned back to find another vase.

After finding one and setting the flowers in your office again, you find Minghao setting a record on your turntable, a slow tune plays through the air, instantly making the room feel calmer and homey.

“I didn't pin you as the type to have such an extensive vinyl collection, you have good taste too.” He said, swaying to the music by shifting his weight from one leg to another.

“I didn't feel the need to mention it considering I haven't touched those in a while. My husband hates them.” You say solemnly.

“Well, he isn't here now. Let's enjoy the music,” he said, holding his hand out for you to take, “Dance with me?”

You smile as you take his hand, he suddenly pulls you towards him and you land on his chest, his arms wrapping around you securely as you sway to the calm of the music.

You think to yourself, This is nice, this is safe. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be married to Minghao instead.

You turn your head and press your ear to his chest, hear him breathe slowly, his heart beating rhythmically. This is the first time you were ever this close to him, practically holding him in a loving embrace.

His woody cologne almost distracts you, so seductive and masculine and you almost reach up to cup his face, to kiss him. Before you realize that he isn't your husband.

You're both snapped out of your little bubble when the oven dings, signaling that dinner is ready. You break away from him, already missing his warmth as you set the dining table, one that hasn't been used in a while.

You eat dinner with him, talking about your days and how work has been. It's a welcome change of pace from your husband’s tolerance of your presence. You didn't have to beg Minghao for footnotes on his life, you didn't feel like you're taking up too much of his space or time.

It's safe, secure. It feels like you're being celebrated for existing.

You dwell on this feeling long after Minghao heads home, your stomach and heart full. As you slip into the covers you wonder what it'll feel like to hold him under them, for him to kiss the crown of your head and whisper the three words you desperately wanted to hear again.

You fall asleep with the fantasy that when you wake up, he'll be right next to you.

Minghao invited you downtown this time, various pop-up stores of luxury brands recently opened and he just secured a sale of a really expensive painting; so of course, what better way to spend that money than taking a shopping trip with his closest friend.

“This would look amazing on you.” He said while taking out a dress, it's a color that compliments your hair and skin wonderfully. Minghao always knew how to dress.

“Oh, I'm inclined to agree, but I'm not willing to look at the price tag for that one.” You joke, shrugging as you follow him around the store.

“Nonsense, I'm offering to pay.” He said, turning his nose up. “I'm getting this for you, I'll ask the salesperson for more sizes so you can try them on.” He said, turning to the salesperson doing just that.

The salesperson nods enthusiastically, bringing the dresses to the dressing rooms and ushering you in despite your protests. Minghao only smiles in amusement as the curtain hides your figure, he sits on the bench near the dressing rooms in silence, scrolling through Instagram on his phone.

He hears the curtains roll open, it only takes a moment of him looking at you in the dress to take his breath away. It fits you perfectly, hugging your body deliciously. Minghao almost drops his phone onto his lap, his grip loosening, star-struck by your beauty.

“How does it look?” You ask, awkwardly fiddling with the expensive fabric of the dress, feeling a little too expensive to be on your body.

Minghao wordlessly stands from the bench, looking a little dazed, he turns to the salesperson and tells them, “We're getting the dress.” As he walks toward the cashier almost in a trance.

You're a little taken aback by his reaction, but nonetheless you change back into your regular clothes. As soon as you walk out of the dressing room Minghao Pushes you back in with more dresses.

“Please try these on.” He says, not having the strength to look you in the eyes. You comply.

It took you hours of trying on dresses and accessories to the point that you almost bought the store out. Minghao couldn't get enough of the mini-fashion show you were putting on for him, and it's not like the salespeople are complaining either.

You walk out of the first store with multiple bags in hand, you thought that was enough shopping for the whole year maybe, but no, Minghao pulls you into another store, and another, and another, all leaving with bags (multiple) of clothes.

It got so bad to the point that Minghao had to leave your bags in his car so you could free up your hands to buy more stuff.

You stopped trying to fathom the amount of money Minghao was spending on you, yes, he did buy items for himself too, but he looked much more satisfied to provide for you rather than procuring items for himself.

The car ride back home was filled with way too many ‘are you sure's and ‘you really didn't have to's. But Minghao was insistent on you keeping all the items he got for you.

“I'm being serious, you're a gorgeous woman, you deserve to be spoiled like a queen.” he said, turning to you while waiting at a red light, “You need to visit my studio in the clothes I got you, you'll fit right in with my paintings.” He smiles.

Your face flushes at his compliments, a bright and happy smile stretching across your face. You couldn't remember the last time you were this happy with someone. To find joy in the company of another felt liberating, you felt like you deserved this.

Minghao drops you off at your place with your new clothes, helping you get them into your living room like a true gentleman.

“I'll see you next time, Y/n.” He said stopping at your doorstep, annd leaning down to press a kiss on the crown of your head, he took note of what your shampoo smelled like and left. Leaving you awestruck in your doorway as you watch his car drive off.

This studio has become so familiar to you, like a second home almost. Punching in the code was muscle memory at this point, the smell of drying paint and clay becoming a calming scent.

You smooth over the front of your dress, one that Minghao got you, as you enter his studio again. Shrugging off your heavier coat, the beginning of winter creeps closer as the trees lose the last of their leaves.

Minghao just got out of the bathroom, wiping his hands on his paint-stained shirt and apron. He looks at you, the dress, the way it fits on you. And he smiles widely.

“Hey there gorgeous, what are you doing all the way there? You should be over there with the rest of the art.” He says cheekily.

You giggle as you enter the space more, stopping in front of him taking his extended hand and following it, giving him a twirl.

He simply adores the way the fabric flows and shapes around your curves and contours, your skin practically glowing with life.

He fights the urge to kiss you, succeeding for now.

He guides you onto the couch, a turntable sitting next to his stone tea tray on the coffee table. ”Oh? This is new.” You said when you noticed it.

“Oh that? I got it for when you come over. I got a few records too, if you'd like to make yourself comfortable while I brew us some tea.” He said, untying his apron to hang on an easel, turning his back to you and he started preparing tea like before.

His movements and practiced, you'd guess this tea ceremony is second nature to him, considering he always talks about it. This scene is safe, familiar, it's comfortable.

He does this whole song and dance again, you've seen him do this over and over again but you can't seem to get sick of it. It's like you're giving yourself excuses just to keep seeing him.

But they don't feel like excuses, not at all, they're just more reasons why you feel deeply, and so quickly for Minghao.

Again, the both of you talk about everything and anything under the sun, him walking you through all his latest pieces, him plans for new ones creativity vibrating through ever cell in his body.

You imagine him talking so passionately about the future, maybe even a future with you.

Before you could realize what you were doing, you’re holding onto Minghao’s shoulders for support,

and you lean up to kiss him.

Minghao fights the urge to kiss back, he fails.

His hands come up to cup the back of your head tilting his head to deepen the kiss, pouring all his emotions into the simple, gesture of affection.

Your head was spinning, dizzy from his cologne and the wind getting knocked from your lungs as soon as your lips met his. It was electrifying, finally feeling the warmth of his body pressed so close, yet so far from yours.

Oh, you wanted him, so, so badly.

He pulls away first, heaving from the intensity of the kiss, eyes in a daze. Meeting your eyes again, he couldn’t help but lean in for another kiss.

This time he's really pressing into you seemingly drunk off of the feeling of his lips meeting yours. He's just a man at the end of the day, a weak, weak man in the face of paradise.

He came back to his senses once he felt the cool metal of your wedding ring on his neck. Jolting back, he pushed your shoulders back, creating a significant distance between the two of you.

“I, I think you should leave.” He said turning to hide in his studio bathroom to collect his thoughts.

You stood there puzzled, did he not feel the same way you did? But why did he kiss you, twice? Something isn't adding up.

But moreover, you can't ignore the painful sting this rejection gave you. You wanted him, did he not want you? What was the point of trying so hard to make you fall for him when he just decided to back down when he finally had you?

You gather your belongings and leave the studio, the door clicking to lock behind you. The ride back was suffocating, it felt like you left a part of yourself in that studio with Minghao. And you fear that this may be the last time you see him.

You haven’t spoken to Minghao in the weeks following the kiss, your nerves on fire every time you remember how his pillow lips felt so right on yours.

You're standing in front of the mural. The one where Hephestus caught Aphrodite, his wife, and Ares, her lover, having an affair and having sex on their marital bed.

It's funny, looking at this mural. You spent your last weeks wandering his gallery, searching for his shadow, but he always seems to evade you so easily. He's marked you like a bloodstain on a pristine white dress, lingering like fog on a cold autumn day.

Winter is still young, yet you feel cold. So, so cold.

As if your most desperate prayers were heard, Minghao practically materializes next to you.

“Hi. I'm sorry I wasn't able to speak to you for the past few weeks. I'm a coward, a fool to run from you.” He said, both of you looking at the mural and not at each other.

Silence follows, you couldn't look at him, you couldn't speak to him. “Y/n I-”

“This isn't the place to talk about this.” You said coldly.

Minghao flinches a bit, not used to how icy your voice was. It usually greets him so warmly, so lovingly.

“Let's go out to drink, there's a bar that's walking distance from here, if you'd like go go with me. I have too many things to say to you, too many thoughts left unsaid. You deserve to hear them, at least.” He said, remorseful.

You really couldn't find it in yourself to stay mad at him. So you agree to walk with him.

The walk to the bar is silent, unlike your previous walks. You're so far from him, you even refused to hold onto his arm like you usually do.

It's early winter yet Minghao is sweating bullets, he's almost vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass. His nerves are all over the place, he's acting so out of character, nothing like the calm, cool, collected Minghao you've come to know over the past few months.

He takes a deep breathe before you both enter the bar.

A few drinks in and you’re already tipsy, “You know- hic- my husband is being a dick to me.” You drunkenly slurred, “This novel I’ve been writing for over two years now is fucking me in the ass- I- I want to finish it so desperately but all he does is sucks the soul out of me. He’s a giant pain in the ass-!”

Minghao snorts at this, loudly talking over the music of the bar, “Your husband is a fucking dick! Your work is amazing. If I were him, I would do anything to help you get rid of that writer’s block, you know, inspire you.” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’d do that?” You ask, clinging onto his arm, “Thank youuuu hao bear~ you’re the best-!” You giggle into his arm, your weight pressing against his side. You’ve only known him for three months at this point, but his ideas and influence on your work improved your writing and motivation drastically.

“Hao bear? That’s new, you’ve only known me for- what? 3 months? You’re already calling me nicknames!” He holds the back of your head gently, pressing his forehead onto yours, “I should give you a nickname too… Starlight, how does that sound?” At this point, you tune out every other sound other than the sound of his voice and the pounding of your heart.

This man had you in a chokehold the moment you met him, you were fucking doomed from the start.

“Starlight? Yeah, I like it more than a little bit.” You say softly, your words almost getting lost in the noise of the bar.

“Let’s move to somewhere quieter, yeah? Tell me more about your work. We can head to my place to settle down for a bit.” There it is, the same dark, barely there smirk that plagues your stomach with butterflies.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Arriving at Minghao’s place, you take a quick look around his apartment. Everywhere you look is a pop of color, bold splotches of vibrant hues making the place look like it was pulled straight out of the 80s, “Hao, your place is amazing, the furniture brings me so much joy~” You giggle a bit, sitting down at the plush red velvet couch shaped like a seashell.

“Thanks! Most of the furniture is thrifted from retro thrift stores, I like this style more. It brings so much personality to the space.” He passionately talks about them, “Do you want anything to drink? I have water, juice, and beer here.” He says, rummaging through his fridge.

“Oh, just water, please.” You say you have a feeling that you need to at least sober up for whatever the night brings.

He takes two glasses of water and places them down on the coffee table. It’s the only piece in the entire house that is a neutral color, a fine hardwood. You couldn’t tell what it was at a glance, not that it was important anyway.

“So, let’s talk about this book that you’ve been struggling to write now. Could you tell me what it’s about?” He asks, taking a swig of his water, you stare at his side profile while he does, sharp yet delicate features, his Adam’s apple bobbing from his drink.

Bro’s so majestic.

“Well, it’s about an artist who’s losing passion for his work, told from the perspective of his lover. It’s a spicy romance, with, in my opinion, a correct amount of sex scenes-”

“Give me a percentage of how much of it is smut.” Minghao interrupts you,

“Like… 75 percent?” He snorts at this, “Anyway, I’ve been stuck on the last spicy scene of the book, the climax, pun not intended,” You take a swig of your water, “I mean, it’s not like I don’t have experience writing that sort of thing, or lack experience in sex either, but my sex life’s been such a drag with my husband being gone for long periods and-”

Minghao interrupts you again, “And he doesn’t fuck you right, does he?”

The forwardness of his words made you freeze, you contemplated whether to reject him here, to tell him it wasn’t appropriate to talk about this with you, especially about your husband. You know how Minghao looks at you. It wasn’t a secret to anyone that he wanted you, but he never acted in any inappropriate way. He never makes you uncomfortable.

This was no exception. The swirling in your stomach wasn’t because of unease, no, this was because of arousal.

“No, no he doesn’t.”

He leans in, kissing you. This time he's not rushing, no more pushing and pulling, no more things left unsaid. He wants you, he'll have you. That was a promise.

He lifts you from the couch, lips never parting as he carries you to his bedroom, peeling each other's clothes, bumping into walls and furniture. But you couldn't care less, you were lost in each other's embrace and you can't think of another place you'd rather be.

Half-naked on Minghao’s bed, who, need you be reminded, was not your husband.

His hands roamed your sides, the heat from his palms warming your skin, causing it to flush, his soft, plump lips pressing feather-light kisses to your neck. You could feel his breath behind your ear, his hair tickling your cheek.

“How would your husband feel if he knew what you were doing with me right now?” He asks, clearly getting off on the fact that you were in his bed, getting ready to fuck him, a man who wasn’t your husband.

“I hope he’d be disappointed, but at this point, I think he forgot about me.” You say with a chuckle at the end, trying not to ruin the mood.

Minghao gently pulls away from you from that, “What?” he asks quietly, the word almost getting drowned out by the hum of the air conditioning, “Sorry, I know this was supposed to be a taboo, forbidden relationship thing but… I’m angry at him.” He says, avoiding your eyes.

“I know I’ve only known you for a few months, but I never felt this way before. It fucking kills me to think that a woman like you would be forgotten, for what exactly? Work?” He said anger gradually filling his voice. His hand reaches for your face when your eyes meet, thumbs pressing down on your cheekbone. The controlled and purposeful movement reminds you just how pliable you are under his touch. He sculpted you into what he wanted you to be; beautiful, strong, unashamed.

You gently cup his face, still hovering above you, “Kiss me, Minghao.”

And he did.

His lips met yours in a searing embrace, just the force of his passion against yours was dizzying, fiery desire clashing to make fireworks behind the eyelids that fluttered close. You never felt this type of longing from your husband, never felt his devotion being kissed through your lips like Minghao’s tongue was exploring it.

At that moment, you knew you were gone.

Minghao pulled away from you, hazy eyes meeting yours as the string of saliva that connected your mouths broke. At that moment, Minghao was stuck in a trance, his lips coming to meet yours over and over like he couldn’t stop tasting your lips even if he tried. A sweet ambrosia, too saccharine to stop. He’s become addicted to your lips molding onto his like sickly sweet honey sticking to his lips.

Out of breath, he grabs hold of your waist, rolling over to get you on top of him. He reaches behind you, unclasping the hooks of your bra and letting your breasts fall free from it. He cups both of them while you sit up, grinding on his hardening cock through his boxers, he groans at this, reflexively squeezing your boobs.

Placing both of your hands on his pecs, you also give them a gentle squeeze. Minghao notices this and his gaze darkens, passing his thumbs over your hardening nipples. Your pussy clenches onto nothing at this, a soft gasp leaves you as you started to grind harder against Minghao.

His nails started to dig into your hips, his own desperately grinding up against you for more friction. Soft moans leave him as he throws his head back against the pillows, eyes fluttering close just so he could focus on the sensations of your clothed cunt grinding against his cock through his boxers.

“God, get off of me before I cum in my underwear like a teenager.” He says with a playful groan, lifting your hips off from his crotch.

“Right, you still need to cum inside of me.” You say back playfully, his eyes darkened at this.

“Fuck, you make me want to keep you forever,” taking one of your hands and placing a kiss on your palm.

He lifts his hips only enough to get his boxers off, shimmying them off to somewhere on the floor near his bed. You also take this time to take your underwear off, secretly hiding it under his pillow when you lean down to kiss him again.

When you both pulled away, another string of saliva connected you two. You took two fingers to swipe at the liquid, bringing it down to rub your clit while you lowered yourself down to grind on his bare cock now.

Minghao hisses, “Fuck, I can feel how wet and warm you are, sweet christ.” he breathes out a shaky breath as you grind your bare wetness on his cock, lubricating the shaft for later. You moan at the contact, body slightly shaking from the friction of the tip of his cock hitting your clit occasionally.

“God, Minghao, fuck I need you inside me.” You desperately whine out. You lifted your hips up to finally hold his hard cock to align it with your pussy, slowly sinking on the thick girth. You throw your head back at the satisfying stretch his dick was making you feel.

“Fuck, you feel so good, so tight and warm,” He moans, he’s not shy about letting you know how good it feels with how vocal he’s being, he takes your right hand and holds it tightly, pressing it against his chest. You could feel his racing heartbeat under his skin, “Let me keep you forever, please, don’t make me beg, run away with me.”

You openly gape at him from this, You’d be a fool to accept this, especially since you’ve only known him for a fraction of the time you knew your husband, but god dammit.

“Take me with you, anywhere you want to go. I’m yours, please take me.” You say desperately. You’ve never been wanted this badly before, and god, you wanted more, for the rest of time.

Minghao abruptly thrusts up into you from this, tightly clenching your hand in his, still pressing on top of his racing heart under the skin. You cry out in pleasure, somehow the sensation of his heart under your palm elevates your pleasure, making you go dizzy at the thought that you’re doing this to him, and only you.

You come close to your climax embarrassingly quick, the sensation of his cock rubbing your velvet walls so perfectly made your head spin. Your ears are ringing so loudly that it almost drowns out your sounds of pleasure, and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Minghao isn’t far from you either, the same dizzying effect taking hold of his mind too. He’s so close to finishing that he could almost taste it, his moans and whines of your name leaving his lips like a mantra, a prayer, even.

“Minghao I’m gonna cum-!” you say frantically, pressing your forehead onto his as he meets your lips with his for the nth time. You swallow the moans he spills into your mouth as you both climax at the same time. His heart still beating frantically under your palm.

“Did you mean that?” You ask breathlessly, “When you said you wanted me forever, did you mean it?” you couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Exactly, I meant it word for word. Let me replace the ring on your finger with mine.” He smiles at you.

In the end, he did replace the ring on your finger with his, much more extravagant, and elaborate. Your husband wasn’t surprised at your sudden request for a divorce, since your marriage was already failing before you met Minghao.

Still, time was the ultimate truthteller.

Your husband found out about your High Infidelity around the middle of your divorce proceedings, and in a rage, he threw you and all your belongings out onto the driveway. In the middle of winter rain.

The rain soaked into your skin, cold and icy piercing you painfully. All your personal belongings were strewn all around you, and your soon-to-be ex-husband was angrily slamming the door shut, but you couldn't help but feel relieved.

After all, you were finally free.

You finished your book, it received critical acclaim and it was a New York Times Best-Seller.

And you got to marry Minghao, the love of your life. Who you were happily married to until the both of you grew old.

FIN.

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sgdlr-asdfghjkl · 2 months

Text

Link Click Musical update 180 🌟🌟🌟

(LC-mu postcard project🎉 + summary of BilibiliWorld videos: musical actors meeting VAs trio and Wang Minhui's vlog ✨)

Hello! This will be quite unusual update, since I want to report about our fan project. But also, to make up for my inactivity, I bring lots of tasty treats for you >:3

Links in replies: meeting of LC donghua voice actors trio and LC musical trio at BilibiliWorld event, Wang Minhui's vlog from there, 1h+ livestream from the entire LC musical segment + google drive link where you can download the postcard illustrations and print it for yourself 😘

OKAY 🏃‍♂️✨

LC-mu postcard project summary

A fellow lc musical enjoyer friend, Vale (@/_Setsuna_iro_ on twt & @/setsuna_cos on ig, follow her for great cosplays!) reached out, said she'll be visiting China and considers going to see the play. So OF COURSE I got hyped up about it 😤

I wanted to arrange a postcard for her to give away after the performance (like we did with Elara for 100th performance). To let the actors and Chinese audience know we appreciate the musical ^^ There was no better person to ask for help than a legend, an icon, a master of musical-inspired LC fanarts @wrathyforest 🙇‍♂️💖

🤲BEHOLD🤲

So Forest drew this amazing✨ illustration 🙇‍♂️ (and yes, you can download it and print it too!). I only suggested some details like adding XiaoJuan pig squishie and Zhang Jiahao eating a chicken leg (from 100th special encore).

As for my contribution I did the design on a back (based on the official lyrics book style) and the lil actor doodles. I collected the 42 names of countries from the international LC musical fans. And handled the communication and logistics between all of us ><

Props to Vale for translating the note to Chinese 🙏 the actors and audience got it in Chinese, but you can read it and print in in English ^^ And thanks to @elaraqwqfor all the practical advice about the theatre etiquette and navigation haha 🙏

When time agent Vale rests (and no longer struggles with Chinese firewall ><") I'll try to share more info from her about the musical itself. For now have photos our spy took >:3

That's the Shanghai Great World, an amusement centre building where the Time Theatre is located. We rarely think outside the 'microvawe oven' of lc musical set, so I think it's interesting to see ;>

A photo wall with the cast behind the scenes and guests (can you spot director Haolin? ehee). And a fascinating (to me at least) corner where the audience can leave all the fanmade freebies. Like merch celebrating actor's birthdays or performance milestones. The fans go out of their way and make all sorts of things to share, like badges, facemasks with prints, keychains, acrylic stands, prints, stickers, I even saw cookies with chibi actors printed on them ><

I personally find this part of fan culture around the Chinese musical theatre really heartwarming and inspiring ^^ Maybe bc culture around theatre in my country feels very posh and stuck up, snobbish even. So I have lots of love and respect to Chinese theatre fans for making their passion feel welcoming and simply fun 🌟

Again, huge thanks to all my lovely LC friends, Forest, Vale and Elara for making this project possible 😘💙💛

MOVING ON 🏃‍♂️✨

Link Click Musical panel on BilibiliWorld 2024 convention

For context, this convention is huge (esp when you remember Bilibili is like Chinese ver of youtube, twitch, netflix, crunchyroll and webtoon at once). Li Haolin had his panel there, as well as donghua VAs (that's how they managed to meet, VAs had their panel on same day musical actors came for rehearsal).

So there is an entire 1h+ video from the panel with LC-mu 'representative lineup' Deng Xianling, Cai Qi and Wang Minhui. I'll link it, you can watch it. It's all in Chinese ofc but it's still fun, bc they do lots of games focused on singing songs that you should be able to recognise by now ;>

A summary of the panel:

1st game: they each get the first lines their characters sing in the play and have to fill out the blank lyrics

then they do slightly extended ver of 'You can forget about it' ('sofa song')

2nd game: they get a line from a lc musical song to sing, each actor with different twist; dxl has to do a dialect version, cq does the singing to a different melody, and wmh does the 'translation accent' (not sure what it is, I'm guessing it's changing the accentuation on words?)

3rd game: is blindfold basketball with third person directing the one that's shooting, so a cooperation game ^^'

4th game: they listen to the music and when it stops they have to sing the next lines (this part was GREAT bc we get crumbs from main plot songs AND we get to hear actors sing a capella AND there is a banger part where wmh and cq sing in unison 😔👌)

5th game: doing 'Dive back in time' tutting at varied speed (it's funny & impressive how they switch from 2x speed to 0.5x without an issue)

and I lost a count (this video is long and in chinese, forgive me) but by the end, there is also a part where each actor has to say something in character, they chose from categories: A) Exclusive video for waking up - cq, B) Exclusive video to put you to sleep -wmh, C) 'Mood Tips' Video - dxl :> (Lu Guang got very in character, short line, don't get excited)

OKAY NEXT 🏃‍♂️✨✨

Voice Actors encounter (Li Shimeng, Su Shangqing, Yang Tianxiang) summary

All credit goes to my Chinese friend Yksim (@/treeshu3426 on twt) for translating and summarising the entire video to me 🙏🙇‍♂️💖

Video has 2 main parts: voice actors giving tips about delivering lines and musical actors teaching them to sing songs. Yang Tianxiang first suggest that musical actors teach vocal actors how to sing. He asks how to sing "我只能预测十二个小时" ('I can only predict 12 hours...', a part from M01 'Time Travel', the first song). Wmh and cq sing it but ytx finds it too hard to follow, gives up and says sth like 'aigh maybe we should start from voice acting' ><. So they first give wmh and cq some tips about how to say lines.

Wang Minhui shares that the producer of LC musical (I'm guessing it was Chen Xiaoyi 🙏) sent him a video compilation of canon Lu Guang calling cxs idiot, childish etc. (as learning material). And he asked ytx to say some for him XDD which the other delivers 👌

Li Shimeng gives Qiao Ling performance. She first acted how to scold cxs and then how to comfort him 🥺 Everyone compliments her, she's great orz

After that ytx seems to be answering wmh's question how to say lines. He said: 'We have to relax our throats. It is also like singing. You have to make yourself comfortable. You don't have to pursue to make your voice very like my voice. I think we are two different Lu Guangs. ' (meaning the range, because wmh's voice is very high pitch comparing to ytx's voice)

Yang Tianxiang asks Su Shangqing for his input and ssq says: 'You can make it natural and like in daily life. Actually voice acting allows you to express a variety of precise emotions within a very limited range of ups and downs. It will be harder than no limits. 其实会比你可以完全释放手脚难 (this sentence translates weirdly so have a transcript) After you get hold of the character's main characteristics, you can relax and do what you want to express.'

Then is time for a singing part. Cai Qi sings a bit from 'Words can't convey the love' for ssq. Which ssq says is too hard >< ytx says 'But this song fits you.'

Wang Minhui sings a crumb of main plot song called 'Broken time' (fully translated by Micha here 💙) It's a very hard and high pitch big song full of emotions that happens after a quarrel with cxs. Yang Tianxiang is impressed ><

VA's strongest soldier enters the ring after ytx says: 'I think Li Shimeng is the best singer among three of us.' So Cai Qi teaches lsm some QL's lines from the beginning of 'You can forget about it' (QL starts it in main plot ver). She repeats after him and sounds wonderful ✨💅

And finally, Deng Xianling arrives from the other musical's rehearsal (on weibo she 'cries' she had to buy wmh a drink as an apology for being late ><'). Her voice is beautiful nevertheless. She sings the same part that cq started teaching ;>

Then they take photos together and say goodbyes 🥰

WHICH IS A PERFECT SEGWAY 🏃‍♂️✨✨✨

This one I deciphered myself by google translating subtitles. But please watch it yourself! It's adorable even if you don't speak Chinese

Wang Minhui's vlog from BilibiliWorld

You may think he'd do sth short, similar to Cai Qi's vlog from the event, but no. Not the yapperton3000, Kamen Rider enjoyer, mister I-watch-more-anime-than-Niebo (I just adore this guy, ok? and you will too. Now.)

Nah, he will give us a tour 😎✨

It starts with him saying he's going on a rehearsal, then a short compilation from that day where they practiced and met VAs. As you can see he and ytx exchanged contact info :>

After teasing dxl for being late it's fast forward to next day, the day of their performance. He beelines straight to the artist/merch area 🙇‍♂️ He points at almost every alley and says stuff like:

'Take a look at the Honkai Star Railway theme area! Sorry but I don't play hehe' 'Jian Wang 3 theme area, I used to play. I remember when I got into the trap, brought in at my university, my college friends were playing.' *points at a fancy dress at some sort of haute couture cosplay booth* 'Guo Hongxu would look good in this' (ghx commented the vid with a photo of himself swinging an axe with 'Where are you? I brought you a gift 🙂')

Then he comes home 😌 The Link Click themed alley 💙💛

He looks at Lu Guang merch which is-😭💗 *clenches my heart* and talks how he's excited to wear lg's wig already.

⬆ Interesting thing about these shiguang cutouts, that cn friends Bō🐼 and Yksim pointed out, is that they are a signposts promoting a Chengguang/程光 ship specific event. Recently there was a separate exhibition/fan event focused on uh, you know, top!cxs x bottom!lg, (not necessarily explicit but very much about the romantic coupling) and they had a booth LC alley in BilibiliWorld too.

And no, it's impossible he's clueless about it. You'll see he knows his donghua&anime + they had huge signs with ship name and friends tell me he must've walked past all the doujins. And he goes there twice 🙇‍♂️ Like, do with this knowlegde whatever you want, I'm just describing what happened (personally I'd say: BASEDBASEDBASED-)

*performance time* he gets his makeup and hair done and goes on stage, it's a short compilation from backstage.

HE GOES BACK TO THE CUTOUTS orz... the stylist fixes his hair sprout when he's standing between lg and cxs ;w; while wmh praises his producer for agreeing to work overtime to help him film the vlog 🙏

it cuts to him riding to the different area, he says:

'Now I am going to this one from "Link Click", the booth of the original work. Although today in fact, strictly speaking, I'm not a cosplayer.' 'Because I think we should respect how everyone just generates electricity for love to this level of detail' (I think he means cosplayers, but not sure, it translates wack) 'I think I am still wearing a makeup look for a musical stage actor who (just) came here.' 'This experience is very unforgettable for me, so I hope to use the last bit of time, the moment before hitting the board, to go get one for myself. Including myself, Wang Minhui as a stage actor. I can take two sets of photos. I think it's also a good memory, so I set off!' (it may be confusing, but I think he's talking about using the opportunity of being on a convention in the stage makeup, to take some phots for himself, while humbly acknowledging it's not a cosplay)

(we're halfway in the video, save me, I love him but he talks so much ಥ_ಥ)

He enters the official LC venue (that earlier, was more fanmade stuff/merch alley) and talks about how exciting it is that he can blend in ;w; so he walks around, saying:

'I am so happy!' but then catches himself and says 'Ah, but I shouldn't laugh' (to stay in LG's character 😭) *points at Neo Aurora LG cutout (one with harness)* 'Can you make me a set of clothes like this next time at our theater?' (caption tags the Encore Musicals theatre) *points at a writing board and reads one of fan messages* 'Li Haolin, no more knives!' 💀 and 'No matter the past, don't question the future' motto *proudly high-fives himself* *points at Li twins cutouts* 'Last time I drew a blind box I got Li Tianchen, I have both (?or two idk) of them.' 'So happy. The kind of faint (faint feeling? or faintness? idk) It just came out of here *points at his chest* Happy but I don’t know why I’m so happy! (pls he's so sweet)

Then he points towards the Bilibili Comics venue and namedrops lots of shows he's watching/reading:

'There's a Bilibili comics app, the app that accompanies me on many nights, I recently finished reading Demon Slayer', he also mentions watching Blue Lock and Wind Breaker.

Moving on to individual anime series booths:

*points at Kaitou from Detective Conan* 'I especially liked that character as a kid, so cool/handsome' He sees Solo Leveling booth from a distance and is proud of himself for remembering the name of the show, so much so he takes a picture :'> ''Dungeon Meshi', I've been following for past 2 days (?). At first I thought it was a gourmet show, at that time I liked to order takeout. I feel like it still has quite a story to it.' *sees a mecha animatronic* 'Wow it's moving!' (everybody stfu, he's experiencing a childlike wonder) 'I usually open Bilibili when I have nothing to do', then he mentions watching Freiren, Kaiju no.8 and says that after reading all the Demon Slayer he wants to watch it now.

Post-credits scene: He looks on a stage, says 'Give me a mask and I'll sign up' and then the camera zooms out to show what I think is a group of men doing an otome-themed performance dance (like Tears of Themis/Love and Deepspace type of game idk which exactly ><) 🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️ that's all

To accompany you on this overwhelming wall of text, I give you Cai Qi overwhelmed by the wonders of BilibiliWorld 😇 he was going through it, but had the audacity to later say 'I was a little nervous, Wang Minhui is nearly drowning the mic (from sweating nervously)' under the video with VAs. Brat.

Housekeeping notes: I hope this update makes up for the long inactivity and I hope it lasts you for a while 🙏 I still struggle with my workload and it sucks, so I won't be coming back here any time soon (for 1,5 months at least) sorry ><

But I am still active on twt and discord and I check tumblr inbox regularly if you ever need help with research 💪

There is an increase of LC fans interested in the play (after the zhb and tcp almost-kiss ><') So I am currently gathering questions from newbies to later create the LC Musical FAQs 🌟 If you have ANY questions regarding LC musical, specific actors, the general Chinese musical fandom culture, navigating Chinese social media, anything I could help with, PLEASE reach out to me via inbox, DMs, curiouscat (I linked it on my twt @/niebo_sgdlr), twt DMs or discord. It will help tremendously to create a beginner friendly guide, bc at this point I'm too deep in the rabbit hole and too busy to explain everything to everyone individually🙏💖

Look at this historical event of Wang Minhui getting the postcard and telling Vale she looks better than Cai Qi 😇 Please give love to all the friends I mentioned in the post and have a lovely day, bye bye!

Niebo out 🏃‍♂️✨✨✨✨

111 notes · View notes

ratcash-wasgud · 9 months

Note

hi! i just came by your work last night, loved it! stayed up reading it! 11/10 *cheff kiss* Are you up for a petition? maybe another mizuxreader, perhaps villainxhero kinda situation. the reader could be one of the money/sex hungry affiliated with the white man (not a white men herself but like a lap dog of someone with higher power than Abijah Fowle). instead of mizu taking Fowler she takes the *reader*, keeps her alive and makes her speak 7u7 maybe scream. they end up helping each other in the end after much fighting. ofc adding some nsfw there pfff if that wasnt obvious.

hope you see this! lmfao

Omg, yes!! Genius. This set something ablaze inside me (especially since I love witty villain characters). I was thinking about making this a one shot tho, but if yall want a second part tell me, and i'll try. Try. Anyways, this'll be more lighthearted than my other works. Oh, and I'm sorry if this isn't how you imagined the story to go. I interpreted some of the originaly show's story, but mostly I just wen't along with what's the easiest to get my own story going, and I probably got some cannon info wrong too, but please don't yell at me lmao.

Btw!! I'm really glad i got a request!! So thank you! If anyone has any other ideas, I'd be glad to try and working with it!!

Okay, enjoy!!

ℕ𝕖𝕜𝕠 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕖𝕤𝕥.

When Mizu pulled up to tea with Heji Shindou, instead of the half-blad old guy, she was faced with you. Some woman in strange clothing. It seemed like it was a mix of western clothing, and some japanese casual wear. You even had your hair down, letting it flow freely. How unusual.

"Ah, the infamous samurai who is tearing through anyone in his way!" You say with a smirk on your face, opening up your arms. "Come, come. Oh, and I see you've bought a dog too." You add, looking smugly at Taigen.

"How dare-" He starts, but gets shut down by Mizu quickly, and the two follow you to sit down.

"So, I've heard you're after the white men, huh?" You say, not sitting on your knees, but sitting down criss-cross style. "Why? What is it that you're after? Money?" You ask, starting to pour some tea.

"I don't need things like that. I have a vow. I swore revenge." Mizu says simply. "And what is it that you need from me?"

"Oh, nada." You shrug. "I'm just willing to offer a deal." You shoot the both of them a smirk. "I'd love to have that fat bastard dead too! My loyalty isn't with him at all!" You say it like it's the most exciting thing ever. "You see, that sack of shit has everything in the world! Money, power, connections...and he's still complaining! Ha! Meaning, he doesn't deserve it." You say as you lift your tea and take a sip. "I, on the other hand, would take much better care of his privilages."

"So you want me to kill him so you can take his place?" Mizu asks, highly suspicious. She glances at Taigen, who is still giving you a dirty look for your comment from earlier.

"Yap." You nod, tossing down your cup. "Fowler wouldn't be an easy target, so without my help, you could already start planning your funeral." You say, but now a small dangerous glint appears in your eyes.

"And why should I trust you?" Mizu asks, her eyes narrowing at you, but your smirk doesn't falter.

"You shouldn't. Didn't you mother tell you not to trust strangers?" You say with a chuckle and Mizu rewards it with a small glare. A small, but cold one. "Still, it's up to you. Do you wanna kill that bastard so much you're willing to take the risk?"

"And how do we know this is not an ambush? That you won't just kill us if we say no?" Taigen cuts in, putting his hands on the table which you reward with your smile getting smugger.

"Oh, please." You put your hands up in defense. "You really think I'd waste weapons and men on you?" You say, looking him straight in the eye. "And besides, you won't say no." You look back at Mizu. "My deal has only benefits for you. You'll just have to gulp down some self respect."

Mizu raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" She can't deny, having someone close to Fowler himself helping her would be a huge positive, but...you just seem so sly. Like a cat.

"Ah, you see, I can get you inside Fowler's little residence." You stand up to pull of a blanket off a big barrel. "You'd fit inside quite well. You're a scrawny thing anyways." You say with a taunting smirk.

"It's a trap!" Taigen says to Mizu right away, but Mizu seems unfazed and steps closer. "How exactly would you get me inside?"

"Aw, I wanted that one to be a surprise." You say with a mock pout. "Fowler thinks I'm out getting a good deal on sake, and I kinda am." You take the barrel's to of, revealing that it's half full of sake. "I'd have you delivered right to his nose."

"You'd die." Taigen cuts in again, and Mizu can see your eye twitch at that.

"Could you shut your lil' pet up? The adults are talking." You say, your smirk disappearing.

"She's obviously untrustworthy!" Taigen draws his sword on a whim, but he's met with a revolver to his head right away.

"Don't try that shit with me." You say, tilting your head at him, but you then seel Mizu's blade at your nape. "Touché." You mutter.

"So what now?" You ask with a smirk breaking out on your face again. "Kill me and lose your only chance at killing the man you swore to slay down? Ha! Go on then." You say, glancing over at your shoulder at her, and you see Mizu tense up.

Suddenly, you feel a sharp pain in your head and you fall to the ground. Mizu hit you with the hilt of her blade, stripping you of your conciousness.

The next thing you see is a capmfire and a siluette around you. As you blink a lot to clear your vision, you notice Mizu and as you look down, ropes around you. She tied you up.

"So you didn't kill me after all." You say out loud, getting Mizu's attention. "The other guy? The one with a bald spot and a funny glare. The dog." You look around.

"Away." Mizu shrugs simply. It's the truth though, Ringo is away in a nearby town, getting supplements for the road, and she left Taigen with a promise of a later duel.

"So...What is you plan now, big bad samurai? Try and torture me into telling you shit? Ha!" You say, wriggling in the ropes.

"I'm planning to exchange you for information." Mizu says simply, staring at the campfire. "I'm sure Heji Shindo would like to have you back."

You grit your teeth. "That old fucker doesn't give a shit about anything but his money and his dick. I'm sure that power hungry bastard is happy I'm gone." You say, scoffing. "But go on, try." Suddenly, you realize something. "What did you do with my gun?" You ask in a hurry, trying to feel around at your hilt.

Suddenly, Mizu lifts your gun, holding it between two fingers. "This?" She asks, looking at you from the corner of her eyes.

"Don't you dare lose it! I want it back when you're done with me!" You stomp your foot as much as you can.

"You know, for someone talking so big earlier, you're quite pissy now." Mizu says, rolling her eyes and you huff in response.

Then...as you glanced back at the fire, you noticed a small pot, boiling. You tried to lift yourself to see what's in it, but the ropes didn't allowed you to.

"...if I starve to death, I'm just gonna be a waste, you know." You mumble under your nose, and Mizu snorts. She then reaches for the pot, and pours out some what seems like soup into a small bowl and she puts it beside you.

You stare at the bowl, your eye twitching. "I can't reach it." You say, your eyebrows creasing together and she just looks at you with a small, amused grin.

"Huh." She says, leaning back on her hands. "Really?" She taunts you. Oh, this woman is horrible. Fine, you think. In one swift motion, you move your leg as much as you're able, and kick the bowl, spilling it all on Mizu.

Mizu's eyes widen and she looks down on her clothes. "...oh, you little bitch." She hisses at you.

"Come, kill me then!" You stick out your tongue childishly.

"You know damn well I could!" Mizu huffs back, throwing the bowl at you.

"Ha-ha, your whole little quest depends on me!" You laugh right into her face and wriggle your legs. Mizu almost growls at you and suddenly she picks up your gun again, and holds it above the fire, threathening to drop it.

"No!" You yell out, and fall forward, and bite into her ankle. Mizu yanks her leg away with a hiss and reaches down to pull you up by your collar.

"Okay, what's your fucking deal?" She says from behind greitted teeth.

"What's yours?" You ask right back, snarling right back at her. "If you'd wanted to kill me, you'd have done it by now. So, want me to talk? Earn it!" You say, getting closer to her face, trying to stand your ground.

"The fuck you want?" Mizu tosses you away, and sits at a reasonable distance from you. "To have Fowler dead? Then just tell me how to get in, and where he is!"

"I want you to untie me, and hand me back my gun!" You demand, and lift your nose, refusing to look at her.

"What's so great about this gun anyways?" Mizu picks up the gun again and looks at it more closely. It's obviously a western gun with a leather grip and engravings along it's barrel in the form of some kind of bird.

You scoff in response. "That was my first gun. It's special." You say like it's the most obvious thing ever. "I will bring it with me when I finally travel aboard, away from this stuck-in-the-past land."

"Huh?" Mizu raises her eyebrows. "You wanna leave Japan? For what?" She asks mockingly.

"Because! This place isn't wide enough for my potential! After Fowler is out of the picture, I will visit take his money and go to London. Start a new life and all. I will really bloom there." You say, rolling onto your back. "People will understand me there."

Mizu narrows her eyes. "I don't think people in Japan are the problem, you're just a common lunatic." That earns a chuckle from you.

"Says the guy who is set out to kill four men he doesn't know shit about." You says, glancing at her, and Mizu can't help herself, cracks a smirk.

"You have guts to talk back to your captor, you know." She says and lifts her eyebrows in amusement. She glances up at the sky too. The stars are very bright tonight.

"You won't kill me." You say, tilting your head so that you're looking straight at her. It's just now that she notcied how nicely the stars reflect in your eyes. Your eyes now look calm, and they don't have any slyness, or mischief in them at the moment. "It wouldn't benefit you." You shrug. "And torturing me would be useless. Pain passes."

"Say," Mizu starts, looking back at the fire. "You said that you're not loyal to Fowler. So who are you loyal to?"

"Me." You say withouth hesitation. "The one who I want the best for and I trust the most is myself. I'm not loyal to any old, egostical bastard with money, like most people in this country are." Say say it with disgust. "I never was and never will be loyal to anyone else, but me."

Mizu scoffs. "What are you, a stray cat?" She asks with a hint of amusement as she looks down at you. "That just makes you even more untrustworty."

You scoff back. "Who said that I want to be trustwhorty?" You ask, rolling your eyes. "Plus, I'm free. Well, not yet, but I will be. And it's not like you can say the same."

Mizu can't help but snicker. "Is that it? Freedom? I'm free enough, thank you."

"Naaaaah." You shake your head. "You're tied down by your own revenge. It tells you where to go, what to see, what to feel...if I told you where's Fowler, you'd get going by tomorrow. Even if I told you you'd die, you'd still go. Not because you want to die, but because that's the only thing you know. Revenge and rage. You'd jump in the well if I said Fowler's at the bottom of it." You say boldly, and look her straight in the eyes before you smirk slyly.

"You think you know everything, huh?" Mizu frowns and gets up to you, grabbing you by the hair. "You know nothing of me. I need this. I will throw my life away if I have to, to finish what I've started, so I won't think twice about taking yours too."

"You're all talk about killing me. Deep down, you know you need me." You taunt her. "You won't find that bastard withouth me. I work under his arm, I could get you there soooo easily, but you're throwing it away because you get too emotional." Your smirk gets even more smug. You kinda look like a cat, Mizu notices again. A cat that has just pushed off something expensive off a shelf, breaking it, and knowing it too.

Mizu noticed that sometimes you force that smugness into your little smirks. She sees it because the corners of your lips twitch. In reality, you are scared of her, but you'd rather die than let her see that. She never met a woman like you. She doesn't know how you got to the place you are, but she respects it. And still, you kow she could take your life. You're tied up, tripped of your weapons and vulnerable, yet you still taunt her. You're very annoying but somehow she can't help but admire your bravery. But the moment you're cornerned into a corner, you hiss and scratch.

After that, she lets you go and walks to be at a good six and a half feet away from you before she lays down, and decides to sleep withouth another word. Not much time passes when Mizu stays sleepless, but she hears you snore. And for some reason, she can't help but smile. You breathe through your mouth when you sleep. It's kind of cute.

The next couple of days are spent with Mizu travelling with Ringo and Taigen, and she drags you along too. Literally. She drags you while you're tied up. During those days, you managed to talk to Ringo a lot. Most of the time he's the one who's assigned to watch over you, and it doesn't seem like he has even as much as a mean bone in his body. You could even call some of your conversations pleasent. The other two on the other hand...you sometimes talk to Mizu and you two always end up in a neck to neck situation. Mizu wants to get you to talk, but she hasn't hurt you yet. She just always threathens you, yells and curses. You just flat out insult her at every chance you get though. It's not because you hate her, persay, but because you find it funny. You're being held captive after all, you need to use every chance you get to have fun.

Currently, you are left alone for the first time in weeks, as the others left your outside of town while they get something done. When you're sure they're out of seeing and hearing range, you start to rub the ropes on your wrist against a bigger rock you've found, trying to "saw" through it. When that irritating thing finally snaps, and you begind to get yourself free, you suddenly hear a very menacing sound from behind.

"The fuck are you doing?" You turn your head and see Mizu, glaring and gripping her sword. Fuck, you think and as she charges at you. You quickly throw away the rest of your ropes, and dogde out of the way. You didn't got to where you are now withouth knowing how to stand your ground, and defending yourself...and knowing how to cheat, of course.

You jump to your feet and get behind Mizu, and with one swift, forward kick to her side, you don't just get her to grunt and almost fall, you also send your gun flying from her side. By now, you've learned that that's where she keeps it. You're still just happy she didn't outright get rid of it. As the gun slides on the cold ground, you jump after it while Mizu regains her composure, and finally obtain it once again.

"Yes!" You silently cheer to yourself and point the gun at Mizu, who just looks at you, her blade covering half her face.

You gulp. Do you really wanna fire at Mizu? Kill her even? You did kinda want to kill her and betray her at first, but now you're...not sure. Sure, she's an asshole but...over those days as being her captive, you learned some things about her...she's not as heartless and cold. She fed you herself, she managed to keep you safe, even if she kept you in robes, and she just wants revenge...she even kept your gun safe.

But you can't show weakness. That's not what you stand for, so you shoot, but aim at her leg. She dodges of course, and manages to pin you down with her blade at your neck, but your gun at her stomach.

You just stare at her eachother, panting, not sure who's gonna kill who first. Mizu stares into your eyes, seeing her own reflection in them. Suddenly she notices that familiar glint in them, and how you swallow while panting, and how nose moves when you take a deep breath...and she feels her stomach fluttering. With adrenaling flowing through her veins and her skin haven't feeling contact with someone else's for so long, she makes a decision. A quick, and a little foolish one.

She pushes her lips against yours, her eyes closing and her breathing speeding up even more. And to her biggest surprise...you kiss back right away. It's all happening so fast. One minute you're nearly killing eachother, and in the other, you're passionately making out with her hands under your clothes, feeling your skin with your weapons thrown to the side.

"Asshole. You fired at me." Mizu mumbles into the kiss, her hands firmly feeling up the skin on your sides, while you rin your hands down her spine.

"Dickhead. You kept me tied up for weeks." You mumble back, gently biting into her lower lip, which Mizu rewards with a small gasp. Suddenly, she feels your hands under her clothes too.

"I knew it." You whisper. "A man could never have a soul like yours." You say and pull her back into a kiss. You feel her knees between your legs, pushing at your core, and in response you squeeze one of her breasts. Mizu starts to get rid of your clothes one by one, and as she does that, you quickly strip her of her own too.

Mizu's slander fingers slowly travel to your slit, but as she does, you grip her wrist and stop her. "No." You mumble. "Not like this." You flip her over (not easily though, she fights back even now), and look down at her naked form, quickly throwing away her chest bindings too.

"Fuck..." You mumble as you carefully align your core with hers, your clits touching, and moving together with every breath. And as you start to move gently, holding yourself up on your hands next to her head, you can hear her moan. She grinds back against yours, your juices mixing together. Even in this moment, it's as if you're both fighting for dominance. You don't know when will Mizu just reach up and choke you to death, but honestly? That's the best part.

You feel her hands around you, one clawing at your back, the other on your jaw...then cheeks, then lips, then the last thing you know is that she's forcing a finger inside of your mouth while you quietly moan and bite down on it. In response you push harder against her, almost squishing her clit with yours, which end in a louder moan from both of you.

"Can't...can't fucking take it..." Mizu moans, pushing her finger deeper inside your mouth before she retreats it, and uses her other hand to pull on your hair instead.

"What? Gonna cum? Ha." You manage to murmur out, not being able to stop your hips, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge too.

"You...fucking wish...ah!" Mizu's whole body twitches as you angle yourself a little differently, giving a whole new sensation to both of you, making you bite into her shoulder while she grips a handful of your hair thightly. And with that, a louder, choked back moan escpaed from both of you...being in perfect balance with eachother, and reaching your climax at the same time.

You stay there, just quietly panting and laying there, on top of eachother in silence for a while. You ahve your face burried into Mizu's neck, basking in her scent while Mizu still has her hand in your hair, feeling it's texture against her cheek.

"...you gotta go through a tunnel." You mumble.

"What?" Mizu perk up, lifting your head by your hair to look into your eyes.

"To get into Fowler's castle. You gotta go through a tunnel that is like...twenty steps away from the road's end and is filled to the brim with traps." You mumble, having your eyes open only halfway. "You gotta head East after you leave the last small village before the forest."

Mizu takes all that in. Now she knows how to get there...now she knows everything. "So that's what it took you to talk? For me to fuck you?"

"I fucked you." You say with a huff and get off of her, putting your clothes back on. "Well, I guess you got what you wanted, and I'm free too." You say, not really sure why. There are no ropes holding you back anymore, so...íthis is your cue to leave, isn't it?

"Wait, where are you going?" Mizu sits up, looking after you.

"Back to Fowler." You shrug. "I'm still his right hand. He probably sent men to find me." You sigh as you finish dressing up. "See you...at the castle." You say, look at her above your shoulder.

"..." Mizu narrows her eyes. "Fuck you." She spits.

"Check." You put on that so familiar smug smirk and hold up a thumbs up. "Spare me a seat in the audience when you cut his head off." You wave as you start walking away.

"...like a fucking stray cat." Mizu sighs, and before you dissappear, the last thing she sees is your wink.

#bes mizu #bes x reader #blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai x reader #fanfiction #mizu fanfic #mizu x reader #blue eye samurai mizu #bes smut #oneshot #villain x hero

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octopus-punching-union · 2 months

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Mortkranken first reactions—

(spoilers, obviously)

I really liked the case in this one. All the info we learned early in the chapter (about curses, the mermaid, the acid) came back and wrapped up nicely in the end, I thought that was really satisfying.

How desperate that guy must've been, though... being in the hospital for upwards of a year, not seeing any progress made on a cure to his curse. As someone who spent years trying to get an accurate diagnosis for chronic health issues, I kinda get it. (All of the conflicting info MC's getting about her curse is also deeply relatable...)

Hopefully he's not still conscious, in that state of being immortal but with his body constantly being eaten by acid. That's just horrifying.

The info about anomalous viruses vs allergic responses and all that was really interesting, but I think MC's curse is different from those. According to Ed, forgetting about the eye will break the curse, so it's at least partly psychological? (And they like totally gloss over Yuri's super-cure. Even though it didn't work on MC, he might've just cured a ton of the curses in existence, which is huge!)

Yuri's stigma was kinda underwhelming. Like, his superpower is Smart. He's already really smart, and I don't feel like he should have needed his stigma (plus MC's boost) to figure out a battle plan. (But I loved that MC was just like fuck it I'm gonna hold your hand and he was scandalized about it. Bets that he's gonna be lying awake at night thinking about it?)

Loved Yuri and Jiro's dynamic. Loved Jiro being so blasé about everything. Did he kill someone? Maybe, he can't remember, nbd. Let's just put a corspe on dry ice, nothing wrong with that...

I wonder how much of Jiro's memory is affected? If it's just stuff from around the Clash, or generally everything before his coma? (How much does he remember Zenji?)

LOVED MC taking initiative at the end and calling for the general students to help. Yeah, they needed some extra motivation, but like. Most of the ghouls seem to forget that the general students even exist, and don't consider that they might be able to help with anything. Once they get up to the surface, the general students realize that yeah, they can help! I think that's really important when talking about campus unity — the general students are part of Darkwick, too.

About the Clash... the murder victim being in Ultio is making me feel more certain that the list of suspects is a red herring. I feel like Ultio was pretty shady and literally anything could have happened.

Also starting to think that the Clash was like every house for themselves and there weren't clear-cut sides. Frostheim, Vagastrom, and Mortkranken all hate each other. Everyone hates Obscuary. Everyone thinks Hotarubi's a bunch of anomaly sympathizers. Etc.

Really nice to see everyone making an appearance in this episode, even if briefly.

Subaru and Sho! I love them so much and I hope nothing bad happens to them.

Luca and Kaito! I feel like they've both grown a little since we last saw them? Luca jumps to conclusions but backs down quickly when he realizes he's misunderstood something. (Adorable really, when he thanks the one guy for giving them directions to the Pit. What a sweetheart.) Kaito is so so so intimidated by Jiro, but he stands up for MC when Jiro tries to take her away without explaining.

Alan! I wish we'd gotten more of him, especially with him being the first witness and all. It reinforced some thoughts I had about his character — that he really cares about the Vagastrom students on a personal level. And once he's decided that he trusts you, he really trusts you. (Back in Vagastrom episode, he never once questioned Tohma's actions or intentions, even when Leo served up some damning evidence. And after their mission, he still had a lot of faith in MC even though her ability had just catastrophically "failed" right in front of him. Here, he trusts that she'll solve the case and is willing to give her whatever she needs without question.)

Leo seemed a little... softer this episode. I feel like in episode 2, he wouldn't have taken the step to go make a copy of the case report for MC to have. He's still got some conflict with Alan about how to investigate, but this doesn't feel like he's trying to cut corners. (Genuinely, HOW is Alan planning to interview 80+ people on his own. How.)

(Luca and Alan I think are similar in that they both feel a strong personal responsibility to take action, even if they don't know the best thing to do. Luca jumping to conclusions and picking fights despite Kaito begging him to slow down, Alan sticking with inefficient old-school methods despite the results Leo gets by being more innovative. They both need someone to balance them out so that they can do their best, and I think finding that is going to be a big character development thing for both of them.)

Also interesting that Tohma seemed to take issue with Haku saying "our" referring to Hotarubi, considering how much Tohma has integrated himself into Frostheim.

Oh my god. That conversation between Haku and Tohma. Haku was definitely in Frostheim before, and Tohma seemed even less friendly than in their campus scene. And Haku is totally taunting Tohma like "Maybe MC and I are closer than you think."

...And then right when Tohma is accusing Jiro of messing with Frostheim, Rui pops up like "you know I'm watching you right?" and provides an alibi for Jiro (the herbs). This new ability of like, lurking in the shadows and watching everyone is great yandere fuel...

I've been assuming that "President of the Institute" is an elected or appointed role? But Tohma just goes right out and says that Jin will be the next president. If they're planning a coup, that's not very subtle. Unless it's not news that Jin will be/wants to be the next President... like if it's a hereditary position or if Haku was already aware of Jin's ambitions (if Haku used to be part of their plans?) Or, if it's a hereditary position, does this imply that Jin's family founded the Institute?

Towa and the tree. The yellow fruit represents Vagastrom? Something between Mid-Obscuary and Mid-Mortkranken caused the fruit to grow, and something in the latter half of Mortkranken caused it to wither. Idk yet.

Ren, cup ramen connoisseur. Ritsu, so sheltered that he's only ever had ramen at one specific restaurant and doesn't really realize that it's weird. Cat manager of the campus store. Those cats really need to unionize.

Taiga... might just be trying to cause problems for fun? But possibly he knows something about the inner workings of Darkwick that would turn him against the Gala and Laurel Crown.

Ed! Ed!!! Yessss, call out the Chancellor for lying in front of the entire fucking school. I love him, and I love that after warning MC about confronting Darkwick on her own, he does it himself so publicly that they can't retaliate against her.

I want to like Hyde. I really want to like him. Looking at his deal positively, he probably knows Dante well enough to know that he would support the Gala, and therefore his own support wouldn't actually be the swing vote. And the deal with MC was just to motivate her to try and unite the ghouls (he's previously talked about seeing the ghouls as people and the extreme responsibilities put on them).

I still don't trust Nicolas or the Chancellor, even though he apologized. They're claiming to care about MC's mental health, but is really that much more traumatic to find out that you're turning into an anomaly, vs that you're gonna die in a year? Both suck, but their decision withheld critical information about the curse that could have helped her identify what's happening to her. MC had no clues at all until Ed talked to her, two months into her year deadline. She is already starting to change. I really don't think that Darkwick, as an institution, has any intention of helping her.

...but he's clearly got yet another agenda going on. What exactly is he talking Sho into doing now? At this point I think Dante is the least shady of the professors, and he might literally be a reanimated corpse.

#tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker spoilers

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skyeslittlecorner · 6 months

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Guys, we're doing it!

Do you remember this survey? I didn't expect such a great response. If that many of you really want to participate, I guess I'll have to do more than one batch of the draw to choose as much of your MC's as I can.

More info under the cut!

Time for some rules, so we won't get lost

The concept is simple. You give me your precious OCs/MCs, I adopt them for a while, write fanfic (related to WHB, of course) and hand them over to your loving hands.

For now, I plan to choose 3-5 people to write for. This may change if more people apply. If one applies, I will write for one. If 96 apply, I will choose more. We'll figure it out.

You can apply in two ways. One is to reblog this post and describe everything in reply, the second is to create your own post with the hashtag #whbmcshuffle Preferably both at once. I don't want to accidentally lose any application. I also recommend following this tag for the time being because I will post further information under it.

The people I will write for will be drawn randomly. I want it to be fair, and I guess this is the only way I won't be biased when I see mutuals I like or Andrea my favorite demons.

You can apply for one week. Since we may all be in different time zones, submissions will close when this survey ends.

Feed me information. Since I want to write something good, I would like to ask you for some information. Here's the list:

Name and pronouns: Quite obvious. Short bio: Who are they? Any difficult past or traumas? What were they doing on earth? Did they get to hell like in canon? How do they feel in hell? Where they live? Character: What are their main character traits? How do they usually behave? How do they behave in crisis situations? Voice: (Not mandatory, although, very helpful.) What would the narrative look like? More calm or energetic? Confident or not at all? Funny or serious? Calm or nervous? Laid back or distrustful? You can even paste here a song or a link to some story that you think reflect your oc's voice well. Important facts: Free space, you can put whatever you want here and whatever you think is important. Demons to include in the fic: (from 1 to 3) Brief description of relationship with chosen demons: I guess that's obvious. The tone in which it should be written: (i.e. spicy, angst, fluff, funny or other) Narrative type: Second person (addressing as 'you') or third person (addressing with selected pronouns) The script you would like to see: (Not mandatory, although, very helpful) For example, a date on Earth, cooking together, whatever you come up with.

I know it's a lot to ask. This is a minimal list, but the more information you give me, the better I will be able to empathize with your MCs and hopefully imitate their character. If you have already written about them, for example in your other posts, feel free to include links, so I can take a better look at them. Of course, you can add photos, or a song, or memes, anything you want!

I didn't mention the length of the fic, but it depends on how I will feel writing it. But I'll want it to be at least 800 words.

Most important. Have fun! It's mainly about getting to know each other's OCs/MCs. Who knows, if there's a lot of interest, maybe we'll do more draws. 👀

I tried to include everything, but if you have any questions, feel free to ask!

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb oc #whb mc #whbmcshuffle

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writings-of-a-hufflepuff · 1 year

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Character: Indiana Jones

Warnings/Important info: Fem reader, implied English or at least has been to Oxford University. Angsty, miscommunication.

Notes: I watched Indiana Jones the other day and obviously my first crush never leaves because young Harrison Ford as an archaeologist adventurer is just *chefs kisses*

It's bizarre really, potentially concerning, worrying to a degree, that after 5 years you know the back of his head from a glance. Suffice to say you try not to draw attention to yourself when you recognise who stands mere meters away from you talking to two of his students about antiquarianism.

Maybe you should have expected it, after all Henry Jones seemed to have a way of haunting you. Maybe you should have been prepared to see him, despite assuming that the United States was so vast that your move from the University of Oxford to Marshall College as a newly qualified Doctor of History would certainly not guarantee seeing him. Perhaps, it was the Moirai, the fates, trying to test your resolve or simply coincidence.

But, after five years without a single letter, a single telephone call or telegram, you certainly weren't keen to stick around and have a conversation with the man. Besides, you had lectures to teach, students to help, papers to grade (okay, maybe not the last one considering it was in fact the very first day of the academic year).

It is with a sharp back peddle that has you careering into a pair of students behind you with a clipped apology that you make your daring escape and it is a surprised call of your given name that has you freezing, turning about face and responding with a strangled "It's actually Dr. Y/L/N now."

"What? I'm not allowed to call you by your name anymore? Guess you've already recinded the right to call you Honey Bee too." There are students stopping to watch, what feels like the entire student body eager to watch the new History professor and the most loved Archaeology professor at each other's throats. A mystery arising from their familiarity and a curiosity at what history lay between the two. You certainly weren't eager to put on a show.

With a flick of the wrist you smooth down your skirt, turning on your heels and walk away calling out to him, "It was a pleasure to see you again, Dr Jones." It leaves Indiana gaping in the centre of the quad, watching the sway of your hips and the click of your shoes on the pavement as you leave him behind.

You choose to ignore the bubble of anxiety it puts in the pit of your stomach all day. Your lectures help to distract you at least somewhat from the reality that your former...you're not even sure what to call him...something, is present and working at the same university as you and you briefly wonder if it isn't too late to go back to your job at Oxford. You're sure Professor Haylett would let you come back, you might need to grovel a bit but...perhaps that was preferable to the potential mess that was being in close proximity to Henry again.

The last time you'd see each other, he'd been a 27 year old Archaeology professor. Young, dashing, charming, with every student at the University of London eager to please him and hoping the American would give them extra attention. You had been a 23 year old History PhD student, one of the few women allowed to do so, after much hard graft and determination. You had refused to let anything or anyone distract you from your studies, from your goal...and then you'd been told that he could help you with your PhD, that he had some specific knowledge on the Battle of Syracuse that you could use and...you'd found yourself suitably distracted. You would be being bitter and unfair if you didn't admit that in the year you'd known him he'd helped you with your thesis immensely...but he'd also put your reptuation at risk, broken your heart and made promises that he never would fulfil. Your mother was right...romance was certainly a tricky business.

You're so frazzled at the end of the day that you don't even recognise that your office has the lights on, if you had, you would have stopped before entering, instead you bulldozer your way in and stumble at the sight of him sat in a chair waiting paitently as if he wasn't phased one bit by your reappearance in his life.

"So, Honey Bee, you gonna tell me why I get such a frosty reception?"

"Yo-The absolute...I cannot...ugh!" You find yourself unable to stutter out a complete sentence as you slam the door shut, it reverberating on its hinges. "You have some nerve, Henry Jones! As if you don't bloody know!" You storm around him, putting the hard wood desk between the two of you and shuffling papers to keep from looking at him knowing he'd melt your anger in a second just with a smile.

He always had the most ridiculous ability to placate you and you wanted to feel angry today, not soothed like a skittish horse or malcontent cat.

"Sweetheart, if I knew I wouldn't have asked!" It's the silky smoothness giving away to frustration that causes you to look up, your bottom lip shuddering under the weight of the sadness that sits in your chest, old feelings that you thought you'd processed and put to bed coming to the surface.

"You promised..." He's silent, confusion deepening as you take a deep breath and begin to pace back and forth behind your desk, agitation growing with each movement. "You promised to write me, to call or send a telegram and you never did. I...I waited to hear from you and I heard nothing. So I am dreadfully sorry, Henry, if I do not feel particularly like pleasentries or intimiate nicknames in front of an entire cohort of students! I have had to earn my place and I am still fighting for respect and no man, one who doesn't even honor his promises, is going to ruin this for me!"

You are breathing heavily, body warm, shoulders rising and falling with every agitated movement of your lungs as he looks down at his lap. Silence falls between you for so long that you turn to look out the window of your office, at the street lamps with their warm glow, the last few students wandering across campus as evening sets in.

"I did...I wrote you." His voice is low, quiet, the sort of quiet that Henry Jones never was, so quiet in fact that you turn to check he actually spoke.

"I wrote every day for three months...half of it was stupid, five lines about my day or a single sentence to say hello. I wrote for three months, sweetheart."

"Three months?"

"Three."

"But, I never...how...if you wrote for three months then how on earth did I not receive a single one!" You're unsure if you believe him, at the same time you never knew Henry to be a liar and it...it boggles your mind. There's an impending sense of your world teetering on it's axis, emotional whiplash as you feel a soaring sense of hope, yet a feeling of disbelief, fear, all rolled into one.

"I don't know, honey, but I wrote for three months to 21 Hanover Street and you never wrote me back so I assumed...I assumed you'd moved on, found yourself a nice, sensible husband and gotten married!" There's an anger that you'd never noticed til now, a sense that he'd been hurt to, that he'd felt like you'd abandoned him. So far removed from the debonair, rakish persona he so often displayed.

"21 Hanover Street? You wrote to 21 Hanover Street?"

"Yes, goddamn it!"

"Henry...I lived at 12 Hanover Street."

"What?"

"I lived at number 12, one two, not two one. 12!" It is so absolutely absurd that you can't help but start laugh rather hysterically. That you felt abanonded all these years, angry, resentful, heartbroken and he'd simply gotten the wrong house number, a stupid, ridiculous mistake that had broken your heart into pieces, only to reforge it again.

"You're telling me that for three months I was writing to the wrong address...?" Henry is out of his chair, rounding the table and closing the distance between you so fast that it makes your head spin...or perhaps that is the effect of the emotional journey you're currently experiencing.

"I'm afraid so..."

"Goddamn it...well, shit, honey..." There's a pregnant pause as your eyes scan his profile, the frustrated set of his brow, the clench of his jaw, the familiar bend of his nose. He's not changed, not really. He's older, more lines around his eyes than last you remember, and a few more grey hairs, but then you're older too. Your first grey hairs finally settling in, the soft baby fat of your face having melted away somewhat over the years. But, he's still Henry and you're still the busy Honey Bee he used to chase around the library to the chagrin of the librarian. Things haven't really changed, you realise. With the removal of the one point of hurt between you, you can acknowledge that you still love him without the weight of anger or heartbreak pushing it down.

"Henry?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"Kiss me." It makes you laugh against his mouth how quickly he follows your request, the scrape of his stubble against your skin an old, familiar sensation that you'd all but forgot. It was like coming home, so familiar that it sent a sharp stabbing sense of yearning into your chest even as his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you to him.

The woodsy smell of his cologne surrounds you, the familiar tweed of his suit jacket scratches your arms, the soft strands of his hair through your fingers, the press of his nose against your cheek. It's like there hasn't been five years since you last kissed, like you hadn't been so angry with him up until five minutes ago that it hurt.

God, and to think, you'd nearly gone your entire life thinking he'd never cared. All because he'd mixed up two simple numbers.

#indiana jones x reader #indiana jones #indiana jones/reader #drabble #reader insert #readerinsert

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gatorbites-imagines · 2 years

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Hallo! Could I possibly request a Tim Drake x M!Reader?

Seeing your autistic reader mirroring the batboys. I think it would be funny seeing the other Batboys (+ Batman maybe), react to reader and Tim mirroring eachother.

Maybe it doesn't start right away, but builds up steam over time. It starting with them rocking back in forth in sync while bouncing off info from an going case, to them picking up mannerisms.

Then maybe continued with their wardrobes becoming so mixed up, they just have double the clothes.

______

Honsetly, the thought of Damien being creeped out by Tim and Reader lifting their cups of coffee or energy drinks up in unison, makes me laugh harder than it should.

That or Bruce seeing Reader and Tim mirroring eachothers fighting style for the frist time and just like, 'what the fuck???'. Because, he probably tested Damien for autism snice they are blood, it's generic. Maybe, Dick for ADHD.

Then, it just slipped his mind to get Tim tested or even see the signs of autism in Tim. Because Bruce is autistic, so would just look at Tim and think, 'Yup, that's normal development .'

- Crow

Tim Drake x autistic male reader

Headcanons

Funny thing is I hc that pretty much the entire batfam is on the autism spectrum in some way or another. Bruce is autistic , Dick has ADHD or ADD, Jason has ASD or ODD, Tim is autistic, Damian is autistic and mild OCD.

Is this me projecting onto my comfort characters? Yes, yes it is. But come on, look at the batfam and tell me there isn’t at least a little tism in all of them.

You are also very right in Bruce just not noticing the signs in most of his kids since he’s autistic himself and that behavior is the norm for him. Alfred was most likely the one who had Bruce tested when he was younger, so it would have to be Alfred who steps in and advises them to get checked out, just in case.

Tim just happens to slip under the radar, maybe because of the stress at the time he joined the family, or they were all just too busy at the time, so it just slipped their minds.

Tim is also very good as masking, having grown up with his parents, acting “strange” wasn’t allowed, so he’s mastered the skill of hiding his less approved quirks. So, you’ll never see him stimming or rocking in public, or around people for that matter.

It was only after you two started dating and became very close that he started to let it slip, unconsciously of course. But it’s because he doesn’t feel the need to hide around you, and you are one of his comfort people.

The family doesn’t fully notice in the beginning as Tim grows more comfortable not masking and starts mirroring you. Infodumping is a common occurrence in the family, especially with the type of work they do, so when Tim is talking to you about cameras or his favorite band in extreme detail, They just think it’s a normal happening.

Damian is the first to notice, and he would think you two are trying to punk him somehow. When you and Tim always do things in tandem, picking up your drinks at the same time, always pushing your chairs back and getting up together, using the same type of glass or plates, etc.

He wouldn’t confront either of you obviously, since he doesn’t want to play into your hands. But then your mirroring becomes even more obvious. Like mirroring stims, meaning Tim starts stimming the same way you do.

Do you flap your hands? Tim now does too. Verbal stims? Catch Tim making the same noises over comms during patrol. You both also come to enjoy the same textures if you don’t already, because those textures remind you of each other.

It finally clicks for Bruce when he sees Tim and you wearing each other’s clothes and using stim toys, whilst rocking back and forth on the couch, excited to see your comfort movie. It makes Bruce want to facepalm because it’s been so obvious this entire time.

When he asks Alfred about it, the Brit just gives him a bland look whilst saying something along the lines of “Master Bruce, I thought it was obvious from the start”, because Bruce has a habit picking up kids with the tism.

After that Tim finally gets tested and gets his diagnosis. Not that it changes anything other than what’s on paper. But it does help Tim feel better, as in the past he probably struggled with feeling wrong or like he didn’t fit in.

When Damian also realizes you two weren’t trying to dupe him, he settles with his arms crossed and huffs, saying that of course that was the reason since you two couldn’t get the upper hand on him anyways.

The entire fam shares fidget toys or different coping things. The house is stocked with everyone’s comfort food, clothes, media, etc. The walls are made so sound doesn’t pass through them, the fridge and electronics are also upgraded so they don’t make those buzzing sounds. It’s like autism heaven.

You also are included since your dating Tim, and you two are very happy together. The family is also thankful in you helping Tim come out of his shell, even though neither of you realized you were doing it.

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chevvy-yates · 7 days

Text

Sending out kudos to everyone who has shown their love towards Ryder for the past two years.

I love u all very much and every engagement, be it even just a like, means a lot to me.

I've intended to sorta make a cool post of some older vp of him as of today, September 17th, exactly 2 years ago I have created Ryder,— back then as a supposed supportive character for Vijay, very unsure if I would like him as Ry didn't visually turn out as I wanted him to be in the first place and he never went that way either afterwards — yet I find myself writing those lines instead.

I've accepted his look and his imperfection started to grow on me with each picture I took of him. Unlike my other ocs he went his own way leading me along to discover his personality. That's what makes him so different compared to my other blorbos and has me so attached to him.

I did not plan to make him a raver (he was supposed to become an 80s goth punk, a total different style than he's got now) neither that he would end up with a rogue AI controlling him. Only his name, basic info and the toxic family story was planned right from the beginning but that's pretty much it – Ryder showed me the rest of it.

Within the year 2023 I noticed more and more that Ryder has slowly but surly turned out to be my main character.

He turned out to be the most expressive and photogenic one of them all. I don't see him as the prettiest looking either yet he's my most precious and I love every pixel about him.

He's the one thing in my life I am actually truly 100% proud of.

Almost all my ocs exist because of him. They are his support characters. Without him half of them would not even exist. There would be no Thyjs. Even Garnet exists so Ry can live out his passion (that was not really put into the game but exists as lore: Technoise).

I am beyond happy to have created him.

He helps me in a lot of rather personal ways too I do not need to address here.

I got so much to tell about him (also about my other ocs) yet idk if I should continue or not as I find myself stuck with overthinking about it bc of lack of public response literally everywhere (this excludes private chat talks with close friends). Maybe Ryder's too intimidating (not the first time I would read that), his lore gets overlooked easily, or it's to much (confusing) text.

I cannot make anyone force-like him. Tastes are different. Minority is into others oc lore. Less time to read it all. The list is long. I'm aware of it all.

But I cannot underline it enough: do never hesitate to ask me questions about him. He's on my mind 24/7 and my biggest wish is to get this story out and done some day (whenever it will be) and receive some actual feedback on it what was liked.

Just a tiny detail is enough. <3

Another wish I have ever since I joined the CP77 fandom: that people would go back to comment each other more. We all do have little time for it, we all think "oh no so much text to read", we all are in our own bubbles rarley coming out to explore another bubble within this universe. It takes a lot of effort to do. people do seem scared on top to write anything at all for numerous reasons. I have all those problems as well. But I try to sit down and read the one or other lore chunk others wrote down and give a tiny comment as best as I can to make the creator have a smile on their lips. I truly wish we all would do this at least once a week to one person. once a month would be also fine. But if we don't this fandom will be dead soon enough and all thats left is just liking vp with characters on it we know almost nothing about. And maybe even those characters won't have lore anymore bc people stop creating it.

#about: ryder von scharfenberg #thoughts

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pomefioredove · 2 months

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If you still take req for the event (if not ignore 🙏), could we pls get "I can't stop thinking about you." With Sebek

RARE SEBEK REQUEST 🙏🙏🙏

summary: "I can't stop thinking about you" type of post: short fic characters: sebek additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

You are a problem.

Not because you're always getting yourself into trouble, not because of your poor temperament, not even because of that direbeast you carry around with you.

No. Sebek couldn't have cared less about all that.

If that's all it was, he could have tolerated you. What's one more bothersome human to him?

You would have been no different from the others.

If not for...

"Ah, young love," Lilia sighs. There's a dreamy current in the stream of his voice that makes Sebek stiffen.

"It is NOT... love,"

The elder fae chuckles. "Yes, I remember what that was like. Denial is the first stage, you know,"

"That's grief, father," Silver mutters, keeping his head down to avoid being dragged into the conversation.

"And what is grief if not love?"

"Again," Sebek is tense. "I am not interested in such things. I have already devoted my life and service to Malleus."

Silver and Lilia give each other a look.

"You know, Sebek, it's okay to have these kinds of thoughts. You're young! You have the rest of your life to guard Malleus. You should have some fun," Lilia says.

"Father is right. Maybe you'll loosen up a bit. You're too stressed,"

"YOU'RE NOT STRESSED ENOUGH!"

Lilia sighs that certain familiar sigh.

"I admire your focus, Sebek. If you really want to rid yourself of these feelings, the fastest way to do so is confessing. That way, you won't spend months toiling over them,"

Sebek's expression flips forthwith, and he beams. "Thank you for your wisdom!"

Silver raises an eyebrow, and Lilia dismisses him with a wave. It doesn't matter, anyway; Sebek takes his words to heart.

It's long past dark when he pounds on Ramshackle's door.

Nonetheless, you answer, bleary-eyed and sluggish, a thumb-sucking Grim tucked in your arms like an infant.

"Sebek?" you ask. "Is... everything alright? Are you okay? Did something happen to Malleus?"

Your words of concern are like an arrow through his heart. Worried for both him and his liege?

But also... worried for him...

He better get this over with fast.

"Malleus is well, do not worry about him. This concerns us,"

You stare in disbelief, as if you hadn't heard him right. "Us?"

"Did you mishear me? I am here because I cannot stop thinking about you!"

"...Oh!"

Oh?

"...Me?"

"Am I not speaking loud enough for you? I said, I CANNO-"

Your eyes widen. "No! No, I heard you! I'm just confused. What exactly does that mean?"

Sebek crosses his arms. Of course. Sigh...

"Lilia said I might overcome my feelings for you if I express them. So? What do you have to say for yourself?"

You blink. You're clearly still tired, he thinks, otherwise you would have understood, accepted his words, and been gone by now.

Right? Nothing more.

"Um... I don't know," you finally say. "Maybe I can come to training tomorrow?"

Hm. A strange response, but not an unwelcome one. Sebek grins.

"Finally taking up the offer? Of course. Anyone who spends time with Malleus should know the basics of combat,"

You hum, looking up at the sky behind him. "I wasn't really thinking about spending time with Malleus, but... okay. Tomorrow,"

"Tomorrow!"

And with that, he's gone, with a warm feeling in his chest that wasn't there before.

Lilia must have been right about confessing- he suddenly feels much better.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #queued

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frenziedslashers · 2 years

Text

I Love You, And I Don't Say It Enough:

Pt. 2; Baby, It's Okay

Pairing: Daryl Dixon (The Walking Dead) x Reader

Warnings: she/her pronouns used, possible ooc Daryl idk, PinV sex, unprotected sex (wrap that shit 👹), rough to soft sex, canon typical violence, mentions of character death. Not proofread.

About: This is set after Season 7 (meaning if you do not know who died Season 7 Episode 1, please do not read if you do not want spoilers.) This is a little fic about Daryl returning to Alexandria after escaping from Negan. I may have gotten some of the details wrong, but this was mostly for my own enjoyment. If you have a request you want to send in for him or another character, feel free. I will be making a master list for TWD and include the characters I write for here in the next few days!

REQUESTING INFO || TWD MASTERLIST

The past few weeks had been some of the toughest of your life. Not only did you witness two of your good friends die, but you knew that more blood would be shed along the way after theirs. You just didn't think it would be Daryl. He wasn't dead, not from what you knew, at least. They just took him from you. A man who's helped you survive since the beginning. A man who you grew very fond of, and he grew just as fond of you in return. You thought Alexandria brought hope to the future the both of you could share. You were wrong. At least in this moment you were so very wrong.

You screamed for them not to take him from you. It only made them laugh. Negan made a comment about wanting to take you, too. Make you his wife and Daryl have to watch him treat you like his. "I'll be back for ya, don't cry," was the last thing Daryl had said to you. It didn't stop your tears, if anything it only made them worse. What if that was the last time he would ever speak with you? The last time you'd ever see his face. What if he ended up like Glenn and Abraham... Or worse?

It felt like months had passed without him, but in reality. It was only about three, maybe four days. Living without him was lonely. Sure as hell a lot colder at night than having his furnace of a body cooped up next to you. When you saw him get off the truck, you nearly collapsed. His eyes looked tired, but they still searched for you. They still widened and looked at you with the same love and adoration as before. Negan was quick to stop the interaction when Daryl blurted your name and the both of you attempted to run for one another.

"Well," his smile, god. You'd give nothing more than to shoot it off his face. "Isn't this just adorable? Don't you think, Lucille?" He chuckled, walking up to you with a curious gaze. "We've got little miss Jane over here, and her man of a Tarzan over there." He spoke with a sigh. "Gross." He snickered, looking back at Daryl while circling around you. Placing his hands on your hips. Watching you flinch and Daryl fight with the people holding him back. "Don't touch 'er!" "Hey now, what did I say? None of that, or else I'll shut," He held his bat up close to your face. "That shit down." He spoke, voice getting lower and more stern with each word. Daryl understood, even if he didn't want to. Looking at you with a gaze that told you everything was going to be all right.

Negan chuckled again, leaning in close to press his nose against the side of your hair. Inhaling deeply, and then sighing. "Damn! Does your woman smell nice. Bet she tastes just as good, if yunno what I mean." He told Daryl with a sly grin. "Don't talk about 'er-" "Do you wanna see her brains on the pavement? Because I sure as hell don't! I've seen too many super hot wives die. No use wasting such a pretty face when she could maybe be yours again." Daryl glared, Negan looking back at you with a sigh and pursed lips. "You should really tame your dog. He's gonna bite someone someday."

After that, you had a sliver of hope. That maybe since they were letting him go on runs with them. That maybe Daryl could figure something out and get away. Maybe you'd wake up one night to Daryl climbing into bed with you. Pulling you close to one another and not saying a word. Just holding each other in silence.

Each passing day grew harder and harder. Each day without him felt like shit. Like it was a reminder that you would be alone. You came into this apocalypse alone. Everyone you ever knew and loved, dead. Then you would die alone. Everyone that you ever knew and loved being just as dead.

But then, it happened.

Everyone else saw him before you had. Hugging and reuniting with their friend. Their family. He didn't linger with anyone too long, though. His main priority was you. It was always you, and would always be. He had to make sure that you were safe. That he knew you were safe. "She's in the house. Up in your room. I think she's reading." Tara told him, and he nodded. Giving a soft thanks before racing off in order to find you. To hold you and never let go.

He crept up the stairs. His body trembling along with his breath. Doing his best to not be too fast and startle you, but the closer he got. The more he couldn't help himself. Finally reaching the door to your guys' room. Reaching out to touch the handle but to his surprise. It turned for him. Watching with cautious and wide eyes as the door opened and he was met with you. His girl. His woman. His wife. Though the two of you weren't official, nor did either of you talk about marriage. He considered you to be his spouse. May as well be since his eyes were only ever on you since they first saw you.

"Daryl," You didn't have time to say anything else. Cut off by Daryl pulling you in for a desperate kiss. He was never good with words, anyways.

The hunter was quick to get his point across too. About how much he missed you. How he wasn't about to let you go anytime soon, either. It didn't take long for him to push you onto the bed once the door was shut, and to have your clothes on the floor along with his own.

"Daryl," you called his name out, over and over like a soft prayer. Hands roaming one another's bodies with desperation. Pulling each other as close as you both could. Hungry mouths worked at either kissing anywhere they could reach or muttering soft nothings to one another.

Daryl was fairly rough with everything at first too. Like he was trying to tell you both that this was real. That he was here and so were you. His hips were fast. Each thrust within you deep and desperate. trying to chase what you both wanted. It was rough and fast, until it wasn't.

A slight worry set within you when his thrusts slowed, finally coming to a hault. His face buried in the crook of your neck. You were about to ask if you did something wrong until you heard the rigid and quiet sob that came from your lover. Frowning while your arms reached out to hold him. One hand on the back of his head, while the other rested on his back. Rubbing with soft motions while shushing him. Peppering the side of his head with kisses.

"Dar', honey, look at me. I'm here, you're back. Please, don't cry," you lulled, your eyes watering at the sound of his cries in your ear. You hated to hear or even see him cry, but you were glad that he did every so often. He was so good at bottling everything up. It scared you a lot of the time.

"Dar', sweetheart, please, look at me. Let me see you," He listened this time. Pulling away from your neck to look down at you. His blue eyes bloodshot. He had a black eye and a busted lip, which only made you frown more. Fingers tracing his face with your eyes. "Oh baby, what'd they do to you." He grunted, turning his face to get you to stop. "I thought I lost you," he muttered, a tear rolling down both of your faces this time. Your own lip quivering at his words. Everything finally setting in with both of you. "I thought I lost you too, Dixon." He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against your own.

"Did they touch you?" You shook your head, hands still holding the sides of his face. "No, think ya scared them too much," Daryl chuckled lightly at that. Opening his eyes to look at you again. "Yeah, maybe."

It was silent again. The both of you holding onto one another while staring back at each other. "I love you," you couldn't help but smile at his words. Running your fingers through his hair. Watching his eyes flutter shut and reluctantly open once more. You could easily put him to sleep by just playing with his hair. "I know you do, you have a way of telling me with your actions, always have. I love you too, mountain man." He rolled his eyes at the nickname and you chuckled. "I don't tell ya it enough, I love you. Really do. That's all I thought 'bout, too. That I don't tell ya it enough." He muttered, and you sighed. Resting your hands on his shoulders, rubbing them slightly. "Daryl, I told you. You say it without saying it. I know you do." He sighed with a nod, smiling faintly as you leant up to kiss the side of his mouth. Wanting to continue what the both of you started moments prior, but he wasn't done with his tangent. You wouldn't stop him though, you'd let him open up anytime he wanted to.

"All I could think about in there was you. If I'd see ya again. Hear ya," he spoke. "I was scared he'd.." He paused, breathing a bit heavily for a second as he thought. "Scared he'd take ya from me." "Dar', I'd go out fighting before I let him do anything to me." He chuckled, reaching up to brush some hair from your forehead. "That's what I was worried 'bout. If I lost you," "but you didn't, and I'm here. You're here. We're safe." "For now." You didn't say anything more after that. Only wrapping an arm around the back of his neck while staring up at him.

"I love you," he muttered again, and you nodded, leaning up to brush your lips against his. "I love you too, Daryl." He closed the gap between the both of you rather quick. Humming lowly into the kiss while rolling his hips against yours. Still nestled inside you.

It wasn't long before he was rolling his hips. Rolls turning into thrusts. He didn't move fast and rough like before, though. He took his time. Letting you know how much he loved and cared about you with his actions, again. His hand coming between the both of you to run his fingers between your folds. Your soft noises you released into his mouth were enough for him to continue. Lips traveling down to your neck. Leaving soft kisses and then love marks and bites. All while his fingers rubbed over your clit. Smirking softly as your hips bucked and rolled in order to chase your high, but Daryl didn't let you. No, not at first. He was dragging this out as long as he could.

"Wanna cum with ya," he muttered, kissing your collar bone with a groan. "Then do it," a growl left his throat at your words. Hips finally picking up to the speed the both of you were wanting. His finger rubbing a bit rougher on your bud. Not too harsh, but just enough it had your back arching off the bed. Hands grasping at him to ground yourself. One hand Tangling in his hair while the other clawed at his back. His lips came crashing on yours. Muffling the noises the both of you made as your bodies met their high.

You were the first to go, Daryl following right after. He came inside of you, but you didn't care. Not right now, at least. That was a problem to deal with later. Right now it was all about you and him. Holding each other after your highs became lows and you were both back on earth.

He pulled out, slowly. Doing his best not to hurt you, or himself in the overstimulated discomfort you were both in. "Wow," he looked at you with a brow raised as he used a Kleenex to wipe you both up. "I don't think we've fucked that hard in a while," you chuckled, and he chuckled back. Tossing the napkin into the bin before crawling back over you. A hand cupping the side of your face with a hum. "Ya tellin' me I only fuck good when one's of us nearly dies?" He asked, pressing a kiss to your lips. You shook your head, rubbing at his chest. "No, 'course not, we've just been..." "Busy?" You nodded, kissing him again. "Yeah," he sighed.

He finally laid next to you after tugging his shirt back on. Letting you pull your own and your underwear back on as well. Daryl kept the shirt on so no one would see his scars beside you. You were mostly dressed so if anything happened no one would see you nude. A precaution to keep both your and Daryl's minds easy.

Daryl pulled your body close to his own. Strong arms wrapped safely around your waist. "How 'bout we blame it on Rick." he muttered, and your brows furrowed, an amused smile on your lips. "What? Our sad sex life before today?" He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your lips. "Yeah. He's always got us doin' stuff. No time for me to fuck ya." You snorted, rolling your eyes while swatting at his chest. "Shut up and go to sleep, Dixon." He smiled, pulling your closer while resting his chin atop your head. "Love you," you smiled, kissing his throat with a tired sigh. "I love you, too. I'm glad you're safe and home." "Me too, darlin'."

#daryl dixon #Daryl Dixon x reader #Daryl Dixon smut #the walking dead #two x reader #x reader #this was purely self indulgent #If you like it #that's a plus

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