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humanitysstrongestsoldier1 · 3 months

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𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 | 𝑀. 𝐼𝑆𝑆𝐸𝐼 x Reader

TW: cursing, explicit sexual content

AO3 LINK!!!

Summary:

"Shut up and listen." - Nicholas Bonnin, Shut Up And Listen

Omagari Hanabi (Omagari Fireworks Festival) had its perks.

Some being;

a annual party at Hanamaki Takahiro’s house,

Oikawa fully drunk and dancing on the table, stripping,

and Matsukawa Issei’s face between your legs.

~~~~

Notes:

Yokoso, watashi no Tumblr society...

a 4th of July gift, from me, to you

it's been a while since i've written lol, i love 2nd person

I'm tired of hiding my obsession with seijoh men (daisho suguru and kiyoomi still my mans, omg i have matching moles with Kiyoomi on my arm lol, i flex that all the time)

oikawa's dumb ass uses gen alpha humour 💀

okay... i took one look at the fireworks and my brain went 'imagine being at a party and matsukawa issei fucks you with the door open, but the fireworks cover the sounds'..... my hands went immediately to my keyboard....

i felt like a traitor writing this cuz i was listening to a gojo playlist lmfaoo

~~~~

Hanamaki flops down next to you on your bed after losing a card game of Speed. The two of you are card game fans, and you spend your time together learning new ones and mastering old ones.

The bet was that if he won, you would have to come to his annual party that he holds during the Omagari Firework Festival. Unfortunately for him, he lost.

"Y/N, please, can you just come by for a little while? We promise to not bother you; if it gets annoying, you have full access to my room.” Makki asks, jumping up and holding your hands up in front of you with pleading eyes.

Makki’s parties are always headaches, and the only way that you would possibly go is if there was someone to keep you to the earth.

“Is Hajime going to be there?” You say, removing your hands from his grip.

"Yes, he’ll be there! Mattsun will be there too.” Makki says, suggestively while smirking at the mention of Matsukawa’s name.

He’s going to be there, huh? Now that's pushing me to go.

“Don’t give me that look, Hanamaki; I will bitch-slap you.”

“Ah,” he dramatically gasps, holding a hand to his heart, looking baffled. “I’m trying to get you laid, hoe. I know the way you look at him.”

“Yeah? How do I look at him?” You ask, your patience running thin.

“It’s the ‘bend me over the table and fuck me till I can’t walk for weeks’ look.” He grins.

Your eyes widen, and warmth pools in your cheeks.

Do I seriously have that look towards him?

“Hanamaki Takahiro, you have 10 seconds to get out of my room and apartment before I change my mind about coming. Ten, nine, eight-”

By the eighth second. Makki was out of sight and out of mind.

Great, now you have to find an outfit.

— — —

"Y/N-chan, you made it!” Tooru pulls you inside from the crowd at the door and traps you in a hug. He was obviously drunk from the looks of it, and it did not help that he was half naked.

"Tooru, get your stanky, sweaty ass off of me.” Pushing him off, you head towards Iwaizumi, who waves to you from the kitchen.

"NOOO, Y/N-chan, come backkk!” Oikawa whines, trying to reach for your shirt but then being distracted by a drinking contest.

You immediately run from the six-foot setter to Iwaizumi, who pulls you into a gentle embrace.

“Hey, green bean. I’m shocked to see you here.” He whispers against your ear, and you pull back a bit, grasping his elbows while he holds your forearms, close but easily identifiable as friends.

“Makki said that you would be here, so I don’t really mind.”

“You sure it was for me, or a certain someone?” He grins, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, like Makki five hours ago.

You sigh, bringing a hand up to hide your blushing cheeks. “Not you too, Hajime.”

“What? Literally, the entire team has thought you two are cute ever since that beach volleyball day.” He smiles, moving your hand to meet your eyes.

That day, 3 months ago, was one to revel in.

The sun was blaring, and the boys wanted to play volleyball in a different environment. You helped them set up and tracked their movements, just in case they wanted a summary.

After playing, you all jumped in the water and goofed around. One specific game lit a fire in the spark you had for Matsukawa Issei.

You were on Iwaizumi’s shoulders, while Matsukawa was on Hanamaki’s.

Yahaba cheered you on from the side, and Kindaichi laughed at the struggling Makki, holding Matsukawa’s tall ass.

“Ready, set, go!” Oikawa yells, signalling the start of the wrestle.

You laugh full-heartedly while escaping Matsukawa’s attacks. You grab onto his shoulders and try to push him off of Makki, but he stands ever-strong and smirks at your will.

“Come on, dove, you can do better than that.” He laughs.

“Oh yeah?” You grin, an idea popping up in your cunning mind.

“Oh yeah.” He repeats, dragging on the sentence a bit longer.

“Hajime, loosen your grip on my thighs.” You holler, and Iwaizumi follows quickly to your idea.

“What-” Matsukawa starts but is immediately cut off by your jump, which launches him off of Makki’s shoulders and into the water.

He grabs onto your arms before you can return to Iwaizumi’s shoulders. If he was going down, he would take you with him.

The warm water met your skin, and a small wave disrupted your balance, and you couldn't make your way back up. Matsukawa’s hands pulled you up under your arms, and you emerged, taking a deep breath.

His hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you against him, skin to skin.

Matsukawa’s other hand moved the hair out of your face and brushed it behind your ear. “Cute.” He says, narrowing his eyes, a tug on his lips that curled them upwards.

You blushed at his sharp eyes, and to ignore the heat on your chest, you remembered his earlier action.

"Mattsu, you little shit, you dragged me with you!”

He laughs as you are pulled back by Oikawa, who requires your strong shoulders to go against Iwaizumi.

That day, they all heard the aloof Matsukawa Issei call a girl cute.

Snapping out of the memory, you flick Iwaizumi’s head. “Keep quiet about that! He literally only complimented me. He doesn't need to know about this.” You point to your heart, referencing your feelings for him.

“Who doesn't need to know about what?” A gruff voice appears behind you, and your eyes widen before relaxing and putting on a calm expression. Iwaizumi smirks at your red face.

“Mattsu! Hey!” You turn around and give him a quick hug, making sure not to linger for long. “I was just talking about the surprise party that we planned for Tooru; his birthday is next week, remember.”

His cute eyebrows raise, and he remembers the plan they set up for July 20. “Oh yeah, that.”

“Imma leave ya’ll to it.” Iwaizumi turns towards the large crowd heading towards Watari as he ushers him in for company.

“Haji-” You are cut off by a look from Iwaizumi, the classic dad look that is asking you to socialise for once.

Matsukawa chuckles. “Am I not enough, dove?”

You smirk, raising your head to meet his hooded eyes, a surge of confidence in you. “You're more than enough.”

He raises his glass to his upturned lips, his eyes tracing your body as you grab a drink from the drink counter.

The two of you stood next to each other in silence, your preferred company. Matsukwa’s shoulders would brush your every now and then to the sway of music. It was calm with him—for now.

“I'm gonna go throw my cup away, you done with yours?” You ask, your thumb pointing to the large trash can on the other side of the room.

Matsukawa smiled and handed you his empty cup. "Thanks, dove.”

You blush at his smile and head towards the trash can. Pushing through the crowd, the smell of alcohol and vape overwhelms you.

You absolutely abstain from drinking and smoking, which is why your cup held punch instead of alcohol. That's another reason you hate parties.

As you walked through, a girl in front of you accidentally tripped over her feet, and her drink flew at your white shirt, soaking it entirely.

“Oh my god! I'm so sorry; I really didn't mean to do that.” She apologises profusely, and you sigh, knowing it was not her fault.

You help her up and reassure her that it's alright, and she makes up for her mistake by grabbing the empty cups from your hands to help you out. You whisper a small thank you.

Before you could walk through to find some napkins, a hand grabbed the back of your upper arm and pulled you flush against their chest.

It’s Iwazumi.

“Hajime what-”

He cuts you off and pulls you closer, whispering in your ear, “Your bra is showing, sunshine.”

Oh.

“Stay behind me.” Iwaizumi pushes you behind him and heads for the stairs. But God decides to be a pain in his ass and throws a hurdle at him—quite literally.

Oikawa Tooru’s shorts launch at Iwaizumi and land on his face.

You peek from behind him and see Oikawa almost naked with his boxers on, dancing, and perched on the table with Yahaba trying to pull him down. Kindaichi is recording the scene and Kunimi is running to the other side for a different angle.

“SHITTYKAWA!” Iwaizumi bellows his voice, reaching Oikawa over the loud music.

Tooru’s eyes widen, and he stops dancing.

Makki appears next to you and drapes his jacket over your soaked body.

“Iwa, go get his ass; I’ll take her from here.” Hanamaki hollers.

You nod to Iwaizumi, letting him know it's okay, and he runs to Oikawa, who is already screaming for his life.

You lightly laugh, and Makki snickers, grabbing your hand and leading you upstairs into his room.

“As promised, full access to my room; take a shower if you are feeling icky. My closet’s all yours.” He smiles and exits the room.

You holler a quick, “Thanks, Hiro!” as he closes the door behind him.

You head over to his restroom, which, mind you, is really fucking nice. You're about to strip off the sticky shirt and clean off the alcohol on you, but you hear a knock on the door.

You walk over and open the door to which Matsukawa is standing at.

He drags his lazy eyes down your figure, a couple of seconds lingering on your chest where your bra is peeking out from.

“What are you-” You ask before being pushed lightly back.

“Fuck, Y/N. Get out of that shirt.” He groans.

“I mean, I was just about to before you barged in.” You sigh, heading over to Makki’s walk-in closet, looking for a comfortable shirt that could match your skirt.

Matsukawa also walks in and immediately goes to a certain area, as if he knows what's there.

“Here, wear this.” He says, handing you the all-familiar jersey. It's his number as well, number 2.

“No way he has extras of everyone's number.” You snicker.

Matsukawa snorts, “He says he wants it as a memory when we graduate.”

You hum, and the two of you head out of the closet.

But before you went to the bathroom to change, you turned.

“Mattsu?”

“Yeah?” He looks up, a blush on his cheeks at your appearance.

“Why did you follow me up here? And why, out of 16 numbers, hand me yours?”

He stops in his tracks, his eyes widening before they relax, he sighs, and a smirk stretches across his face.

“You want the truth, dove?”

The air-conditioned room starts feeling extremely hot, and you try to relax, but the hairs on the back of your neck are rising as he stalks his way over to you.

Walking backwards, he traps you next to the wall of the bathroom door. The light above the mirror shines out and onto his face.

“Mattsu.” You whisper, trying to get away, but he has complete control over your movements.

He pushes you back completely against the wall, his hands on your waist and his knee between your thighs.

A small moan erupts from your throat, and you turn your head to the side, hiding away from his strong gaze.

He leans down and whispers huskily into your ear, “Seeing you exposed like that and being pulled into Iwaizumi’s arms made me really fucking jealous, princess.”

He nips at your neck, and you whine at the feeling.

“This,” he whispers while dragging the tip of his finger down the middle of your chest to rest at your stomach, “is mine to see.”

“Mattsu…” You groan.

He darkly laughs, “You should know by now, you're mine.”

Matsukawa pulls back, his hooded eyes meeting your sultry gaze.

“But I thought—”

“You thought what? You were mine the moment you became our manager; you were mine from the moment we bunked together on our camping trip; you were mine when you fed me your mom’s cooking; you were mine when I called you cute at the beach.”

You still at his words and feel his hands move towards your bare thighs, spreading them apart.

“Especially that day, Y/N. The entire team heard me; they knew that you were mine. So you thought, what exactly?”

You muster up the courage to say, “I thought you wouldn't reciprocate my feelings.”

He chuckles, "Oh, naive little dove. I did feel the same, I do, and I always will.”

Matsukawa’s lips meet yours, and you gasp into his mouth. You feel his smirk as he pushes his knee closer to your core.

At this point, you were grinding like a bitch in heat on him, and Matsukawa fucking loved it.

His hands made it to your soaked shirt and yanked it off, leaving your upper body almost bare.

You swore you heard a low growl from the back of his throat before he latched onto the mounds of your breasts. His hand sneaked back and unclasped your bra, throwing it across the room.

Matsukawa’s warm mouth left open-mouthed kisses down the expanse of your neck, making sure to leave behind purple bruises to make you his.

He kissed the valley of your chest, where your heart was, and whispered a light, “mine.”

His tongue swirls at the bud of your nipple, and you throw your head back against the wall, hands going to his dark hair, tugging. He tastes the leftover flavour of alcohol on your skin and moves to the other side of your chest, giving your girls fair treatment. You sink lower on his knee and feel your clit getting swollen with beloved attention.

“Mattsu. Bed. Now.”

He released your tit with a low ‘pop’ and smirked at your lustful eyes. He lifts you up and carries you to the bed. You both kick off your shoes and immediately get back to each other's skin.

“Tell me what you want, dove.” Matsukawa moves down to your legs, flipping up your skirt and kissing your inner thighs.

Sighing at the feeling, you murmur, “Your tongue, please, baby. Need you so bad.”

He smiles on your skin. “You sound so fucked out, and I barely touched you, babe.”

You groan as he drags a finger down your clothed slit.

“Shall I eat you out through this lacy number, or be balls deep in you with your panties to the side, hm?”

You can't even speak; your eyes are shut, and beads of sweat are falling from your hairline.

“Just touch me, please; I’ll do anything~”

He kisses your clit through your panties before removing them and throwing them where your shoes are.

“Y/N” He moves up, tapping on the side of your cheek to open your eyes. “Look at me when I make you come on my tongue.”

Never leaving your gaze, he moves down, his face between your legs, just as you wanted.

He licks a slow, tantalising swipe up your lips to meet your swollen, puffy clit. The tip of his tongue swirls around the bundle of nerves, and he looks up to meet your watery eyes.

"Mattsu, oh my, fuck! Wait, the door is still open!” You screech lightly, trying to push him off even when you don't want to.

“Shut up and listen; do you hear those loud ass fireworks?” He utters against your pussy.

You look out the window, where hundreds of fireworks burst, and the light from them illuminates the dark room. You hadn't even noticed them; your attention was fully on Mattsu.

He continues his attack on your supple flesh, and you arch into the mattress, choking back a loud moan.

“Mattsu~”

“Issei, dove. I want my name to come out of that pretty mouth of yours, understand?”

“Yes, yes, Issei, oh fuckk.” You cried out, your hands lost in his soft hair, as he lapped at your soaking cunt.

A rippling feeling pushed through your lower body as you creamed on Issei’s tongue.

“Thats it, dove, fuck you look so pretty . Need to be in you, please.” Issei rasped while biting your neck.

“Issei, please~ in- in, me ah~” You wantonly moan as he plunges two fingers into your cunt, immediately brushing your G-spot.

Issei rips off his shirt and pulls down his shorts and boxers. You shudder at the utter length of him and pull him into a kiss from the back of his neck.

Teasingly, your hands feel his abs while moving lower and lower.

Your thumb grazes his slit, and Issei hisses, his face hiding in the crook of your neck. You slowly pump up and down, his precum helping you to his satisfaction.

"Fuck, oh, Jesus, fuck, lord, there, just like that, fucking Christ," he whines, kissing the conjecture between your neck and shoulder.

You laugh. “Taking God’s name in vain?”

He gulps, his voice shaky. “I have no need for a god when I have a goddess like you to worship.”

Issei’s hands gently play with the plush of your stomach as you continue stroking him.

You can hear him, his heartbeat increasing, his temperature rising, his palms getting sweatier, and just when he’s about to feel ecstasy, he grabs both of your hands and pins them above your head.

“No baby, wanna be inside you, pleasee~” He cries out.

He reaches his hands to the side table next to the bed and says, “gotta be some condoms here-”

“Issei, baby, I'm on the pill.” You pull him back towards you.

“Oh fuck, yes, dove, I get to feel you, all of you.”

You smile gently and bring him into a kiss. At this point, he’s so sex-crazed that he's fucking your mouth with his.

Issei slowly sits his cock inside you, the feeling of being full, pleasuring you to another level of the universe.

He pulls away, his forehead touches yours, and he kisses the tip of your nose. “Lift your hips for me, dove.”

You comply, and he helps you, digging his fingers into your hips.

“OH FUCKKK~” You jolt, biting the back of your hand to quiet your moans. This new position had you almost fading to black.

“Y/N, don't hide that pretty voice from me now. Everyone’s outside; let me hear you.” He says, in a needy way.

His hips snap with yours, creating a steady rhythm. The sound of skin slapping skin spread across the dark room, and Issei took in the sight of you completely. Eyes full of lust, your cunt wrapped around his cock, legs around his waist—the different colours of the fireworks illuminating your supple body.

He steadily continues at the same pace, but just when you are about to reach your second high of the night, he loses that rhythm and pulls out.

Holding your hips, he lands on the mattress on his back with you on top. Issei guides your hips and sinks you down his cock.

“Oh Issei, god, oh my , fuck.” This angle had his bulb fucking your cervix, and you swore that the window behind the bed had stars instead of fireworks.

Issei lifted your hips up and down the length of him, and he threw his head back against the bed. “Fuck baby, you feel so good.”

He hiked your skirt up, saw how your pussy wrapped around his twitching cock, and lewdly moaned at the sight. The rhythm continued, and waves of fire pooled in your lower abdomen.

Again and again and again.

Your thighs flexed as you rode him, tits bouncing; you saw his cock disappearing in your body. Issei’s hands played around with your breasts, teasingly flicking your nipples and kneading the flesh.

Finally, you dissolved into the pleasure as if a tight coil unravelled after being wound up.

“Issei, baby, im cumming , oh fuck, im cumming, oh godd .”

Fireworks—literally and metaphorically—burst from your vision as you came down from high.

He let you breathe before pulling out and flipping you on to your back again. Your knees pushed flush against your chest, and he thrust, burying himself inside you again.

You were overstimulated, but you wanted more and more from him.

His hips continued pounding. “Y/N, dove, fuck, can I cum inside, please, baby, please.”

You mewled out a quiet 'yes, baby’ and he took exception to that.

Soon you felt his warm, sticky seed coating your walls, and you came once again.

“Issei~

“Love you, baby; I love you so much.” He says, pulling out.

“I love you too ‘Sei; I love you brighter than these fireworks.” You coo, pulling him into your embrace.

After staying in each other’s embrace for what seems like hours, Issei breaks away and moves down to your overworked pussy.

“Issei~ not again.”

He smiles, kissing your thigh. “Relax; I won't push you.”

You sigh and lie back down, letting him do as he wishes.

Issei grabs his cum, seeping out from your hole, and pushes it back inside. You gasp, feeling his fingers push in deeper.

"Issei, what are you doing?” You shudder.

He comes back up and pecks your lips, brushing the hair out of your face with his other hand, similarly to that beach day. “Making the best out of a creampie.”

“Ugh, Issei, you're so nasty.” You laugh, playfully hitting his chest.

Your laugh stops as you hear the bustling crowd walk back in. The sounds of the fireworks drifted into a sombre silence. Some are still bursting from far away.

“Issei, we gotta get up.” You say, eyes widening at the open door, worried someone, especially Makki, would walk in.

He sighs lazily, slowly, pulling his fingers out, and you whimper at the sensitivity.

Luckily, the two of you did not make a mess on the bed; just the sheets were tussled.

You slid to the edge of the bed, found your panties and put them on while Issei also fixed himself up. Brushing your skirt down, you wobbled on two feet and slipped on your heels.

You grabbed the forgotten jersey and slipped it on. Issei looked up and saw your new outfit.

“Fuck.” He groans.

“What? Something wrong?” You ask worriedly.

“Nah, I just—I should’ve fucked you with nothing except my jersey on.”

You tremble at his eyes that were oozing with want before proposing, “Let’s get out of here, go home, and do exactly that.”

He smiles and grabs your arm, pulling you into his side. The two of you headed downstairs. No one noticed that you were gone due to the fireworks stealing the attention.

Makki approached you a couple minutes later and said, “Those were some crazy fireworks, right?”

Issei nods. “Definitely better than last year; I had my eyes on one sweet show.”

You blushed at the hidden innuendo he was mentioning. You looked over to Iwaizumi, who smirked at the look of you in Issei’s jersey. You quickly tore your eyes away from his gaze.

“Y/N and I are gonna head out; her heads hurting, imma drop her home.” Issei lies, trying to get away from the party.

Makki looks a bit sad but realises that they are going to meet again tomorrow for practice and lunch. “Yeah, okay, see you both tomorrow. Thank you for coming, Y/N!”

“Of course, Makki, I'll see you tomorrow.” You give him a quick hug and return to Issei’s side.

Before you turn to head to the car, Issei hollers to Makki, “Sorry about the sheets being all wrinkled. I was helping Y/N pick an outfit, and I flopped all over your bed.”

Makki laughs, “What? Like you always do when you come over to game?”

Issei chuckles, and you turn away, hiding from Makki.

That night, at his apartment, no fireworks hid your loud moans as Issei fucked you in nothing but his jersey…in god knows how many positions.

~~~

(Morning, 9:00 AM, Matsukawa Issei’s Apartment)

You had awoken before Issei, brushed your teeth, took a shower, stole his clothes, and made your way to the kitchen to make breakfast for the two of you.

As you rolled the tamagoyaki, a yawn caught your attention. After transferring the tamagoyaki to the plate and turning the stove off, you met Issei. He had his arms folded, leaning into the wall at the threshold of the kitchen.

“Good morning, baby.” You say, walking over to him and kissing his cheek.

He hums, his voice deep and honed, “Morning dove.”

“Breakfast is ready, coffee is set, and two spoons of sugar, just how you like it.” You smile.

“I should be doing this for you.” He whispers, kissing your forehead.

“Next time,” you promise.

The two of you had breakfast in comfortable silence until a prolonged buzzing at intervals came from the bedroom. The two of you ignored it until after washing the dishes and cleaning up.

Issei went to the room and grabbed both phones, handing yours to you. He plopped down on the couch next to you.

“Ha, it's both of us, the Seijoh group.” He laughs.

You open the Seijoh GC and scroll all the way to the top. Issei doesn't bother opening his; he looks at yours.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

🏐Seijoh GC 🩵

Makki 🃏:

* Attached Image*

Makki 🃏:

mattsun, when you said last night, quote– “Sorry about the sheets being all wrinkled. I was helping Y/N pick an outfit and I flopped all over your bed.” – unquote. Did you mean picking an outfit, or taking an outfit off. Cuz this sure as hell ain’t mine, right @Y/N - chan?

Iwa 💙:

“wrinkle in the sheets” my ass. more like “tussle in the sheets.” 🤣

‘Kawa 👑: mattsun is rizzatron 3000

Iwa 💙: istg shittykawa shut your gen alpha filter off

‘Kawa 👑: bomboclat

Iwa 💙: this is why no one likes you

‘Kawa 👑: iwa-chan…😨

Watacchi 🛡️: oop- 🫢

Yahaba 😇: im sorry, but is that what i think it is?

Makki🃏: y/n’s boobie holders.

Onion-head 🧅: LMFAO HELP IM DYING 💀💀

Watacchi 🛡️: why is y/n’s bra there and what do you mean by mattsun…

wait– never the fuck mind 😀

Onion-head 🧅: I CANT IM WHEEZING RN BRO WTF

Kunimi 😴: bro its 9:00 why tf yall awake?

Makki 🃏: scroll up

Kunimi 😴: oh. not what i expected. nvm this was worth waking up for shits hilarious

Ken 🐶: same here, not what i expected

Iwa 💙: omfg kyoken spoke

‘Kawa 👑 : ken chan likes me, right?

Ken 🐶 : woof

Onion-head 🧅 : THIS JUST KEEPS GETTING FUNNIER

someone pls wake up those two

----

You slowly turn over to Issei, and his eyes are full of mirth. A couple seconds of silence are broken by loud laughter that shakes the apartment. You're clutching at your stomach, and Issei is hiding in your neck, laughing even harder.

“I accidentally forgot it there, oh my god.” You giggle.

Issei calms down from the laughter, still smiling when he opens his phone. You look at your phone, anticipating what he will type.

----

‘Sei ❤️: makki, get your hands off my girls bra

Makki 🃏 : your girl??

Iwa 💙 : final-fucking-ly

‘Kawa 👑 : OMG BRO ACC OHIO RIZZED HER

Iwa 💙 : oikawa

‘Kawa 👑 : calm your skibidi down

You: tooru…

‘Kawa 👑 : okok im sorry, sugar

I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU TWO

Ken 🐶 : ^

Yahaba 😇: omfg at least type it out u inconsiderate shit

Ken 🐶 : congrats y/n and matsukawa

Watacchi 🛡️: i knew somn was going on yesterday at the party, yall are made for each other

Onion-head 🧅 : ever since that day at the beach, we've all been just waiting, congrats you two

Makki🃏: ^^ i could give two shits less about my sheets, yall became each others at my house, thats fucking adorable, love you two. (p.s i def knew this was gonna happen)

You: hajime?

Iwa 💙 : told you there was another reason for you coming, im happy for you, love you sunshine 💛

You: love you too hajime, thank you everyone lol

Iwa 💙 : mattsun, you hurt her, i hurt you

‘Sei ❤️ : i would hurt myself but never hurt her, you have my word

Iwa 💙 : take care of her

‘Kawa 👑 : its like watching a dad giving his daughter's hand in marriage

Onion-head 🧅 : omfg bro is right lolol

‘Sei ❤️ : except im her daddy now

Makki 🃏 : omfg

Kunimi 😴: LMFAO BRO

Makki 🃏 : bro 💀 take that shit to the bed

Ken 🐶 : he did; took it to yours instead

Onion-head 🧅 : SINCE WHEN WERE YOU FUNNY?!?

Ken 🐶 : woof

Onion-head 🧅 : IM GONE

Watacchi 🛡️: atp i'm just existing

‘Sei ❤️ : get your asses ready for practice

Iwa 💙 : fr (i just burned my eyes from that text)

Kunimi 😴: alr imma gts for 30 more min

You: aki… istg get your ass up

Kunimi 😴: oh shit mom’s mad

You: “mom” is about to revoke your nap privileges

Kunimi 😴: im up

Makki 🃏 : i'll bring your boobie holders

You: ty makki, stop calling them boobie holders

Makki 🃏 : hehe

Iwa 💙 : alr see y'all there

You: bye guys, make sure you bring ALL your equipment or else no snacks from me

‘Kawa 👑 : yall dont need snacks, im a snack

Iwa 💙 : imma whack you

‘Kawa 👑: 🤫🧏‍♂️

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You set your phone down and stretch your arms over your head. Issei’s head is on your lap, and you brush through his dark hair.

“Shall we get ready?” You ask.

He gets up and pulls you into his lap, kissing you deeply. “10 more minutes.”

You laugh into his kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. “10 minutes only, promise?”

Issei hums, biting your bottom lip before whispering, “Promise.”

From that day, when you saw fireworks, you thought of that night. You thought of Issei and his gentle embrace, which lulled you to peace. You thought of his touch, which set you afire.

You thought of home.

End Notes:

each emoji means something:

Makki's card = card game fan, like you Iwa's blue heart = deep friendship Oikawa's crown = great king (Dai Ōsama) Watari's shield = defense cuz he's a libero Yahaba's angel = because he is an angel and wants the best for everyone Kindaichi's onion = self-explanatory, turnip/onion head Kunimi's sleepy face = seems like a sleepy baby KyoKen's dog = self-explanatory, mad dog Mattsu's red heart = deep, passionate, true love ----

can you tell that i am also obsessed with iwaizumi, im still conviced that he is half-desi (south asian), The Tumblr Headcanon That Made It Official For Me

soooo... imma go watch aot for the umpteenth time hehe~

okay bye madarchods, love you guys 🤍🩵

#haikyuu #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa issei x you #matsukawa issei smut #haikyu smut #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime & reader #crack/text fic

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herrmannhalsteadproduction · 2 months

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Friends who are reading Fine is a Four-Letter Word, I know the series has been going on for a while so you might need a bit of a memory jog to give the creeper reveal in Chapter Five more context. Instead of having to go back and hunt through past installments, I've laid it all out for you under the cut:

So, Ramsay was the guy that Voight was using Vinnie to catch (and consequently Bex) during the OP in Reckless (With My Heart)

Here's when they first talk about him:

“There was a phone call,” she finally said. “Cal said it was…Ramsay? Vinnie got mad at him for interrupting and told him to shut up. He got me out of there pretty quickly after that.”

Al shot a quick look at Hank and caught the same light of recognition in his eyes. “You sure he said Ramsay?” he asked Bex.

She nodded. “Positive.”

“Who’s Ramsay?” Burgess asked.

“Book cooker,” Al said. “Hence the nickname. Slippery too. No one’s ever been able to pin him down.”

**They go through with the OP because this might be their only chance to pin him down.

** THEN we have his first appearance on the body cam when Bex is trapped in Vinnie's office:

A young guy with shaggy blond hair and glasses was standing in the doorway of what looked like another room attached to the other side of the office. He was stealing glances at Bex as he ducked his head shyly.

(a little later in the scene)

“Who’s your friend?” Bex’s voice came through the speakers, holding steady…for now.

“This is Ramsay,” Vinnie answered and Voight’s eyes lit up. “He wanted to meet the singer behind tonight’s incredible performance.”

(A bit later...)

Vinnie was pulling more guns out of the cabinet as Ramsay chucked the bag to the ground, still arguing with him. "Leave this crap and unlock the door so we can get out of here," Ramsay was saying. "We'll take the girl and we can access the money from anywhere. Let's go."

She did not like the sound of that. Bex's brain was spinning as she tried to think of a way out of this. She took a deep breath and another look at her surroundings. There was a desk nearby.

**THEN later, the first hints that there's a LOT more to Ramsay than even the team had realized:

The biggest surprise had come after processing Ramsay—his prints hit for a number of unsolved assault cases. Twenty-two years old and a felon on multiple fronts. The forensic team was working their way through his laptop as well and it looked like more empires than Vinnie’s were about to take a hit.

***At the beginning of There's a Way, we see further clues of his obsession with Bex forming:

Jay was about ready to drink away the dregs of this last week too. Vinnie’s side of the case had been easy enough to pack up, but Ramsay (real name Robert Forrest) had been a headache and a half. At first glance, the laptop had been simple to decipher. Turned out it had been surface stuff. Easily cracked info on admittedly big names they were after, but it was all bread crumb trails to pull their focus from Ramsay himself.

The forensic accounting team was still trying to trace the millions of dollars the kid had squirreled away from the various operations he’d been working with. Then the FBI swooped in and they weren’t having much better luck.

Apparently, Ramsay was some kind of tech genius on top of being a serial violent offender. Jay couldn’t wait to get him out of their precinct and out of their city.

He’d been in the observation room during some of the interrogation and the guy had mostly kept quiet, just staring at the window, right at Jay. Like he knew exactly where he was.

Eyes unblinking behind his glasses, Ramsay had refused to answer their questions with anything but questions of his own. And they were all about Bex.

How’d that pretty girl make out? Did Vinnie leave any marks on her? What was her name? Bex? Bex. I liked her voice. I wanted her to sing for me. Don’t you think she’d make beautiful sounds?

Ruzek and Olinsky had to stop him from charging into the room and squashing the little bastard.

**THEN: In Honesty. Horrible, Horrible Honesty, when Bex and the Taggerts do the instagram live thing, Ramsay is one of the creepy commenters. His screen name is yeschef - which was probably a too subtle hint on my part? But the logic was his nickname is Ramsay because he cooks the books - Ramsay as in Gordon Ramsay so I had him take the screen name yes chef as his own personal joke. He posted:

yeschef: love to hear the pain in your voice bex

And then Emery says this while she's scrolling through the comments on Bex's phone:

“Ooh, okay, this guy made a ton of comments,” she said, scrolling through Bex’s pictures. “You should only sing sad songs. Your pain is so beautiful. I’d love to see you cry. Oh, Jesus—I’m reporting this one. He’s creepy. Goodbye, yeschef.” **All of the anonymous cutaway scenes at Statesville are Ramsay

**THEN when Bex is in the hospital and she received the red asters, those are from Ramsay. Anytime she receives those going forward (which she has at least twice so far, I believe), they'll be from Ramsay. Red asters symbolize undying devotion.

I hope this helps for anyone who was confused! I know it's been a long time since those earlier installments were posted and a LOT has happened in the story since then. As I mentioned in the ao3 notes, we're going to keep having glimpses of Ramsay until he gets involved in a case that Jay and Hailey are going to work and that's all going to be lead-up to a massive arc involving him and [redacted redacted REDACTED!] Lots to look forward too! 😂

Adding a new image of Bill Skarsgård who I have in mind as who would play Ramsay - just to help you picture him in your brain!

Let me know if you have any questions.

#a herrmann/halstead production #fic discussion #one chicago #chicago fire #chicago pd #chicago med #just making the timeline clear since this has been a long running thread and there's been a TON of other plot in the meantime

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snoozingredpanda · 9 months

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I don’t really do request but I love lockie so much 🩷🥹 how about some headcannons of a nurse y/n in the force, one that’s half her height but twice the dominance (my fav trope)?

also is lockie only for girls or is she for everyone?

Ooh I love that trope too! And no, all my lesbian characters aren’t just for girls, they’re for anyone who doesn’t identify as male. I simply put fem!reader as GN implies male too, but anyone is welcome to read :)

Also I did an oopsie. I forgot you asked for general headcannons of this trope, and instead did a random scenario of them getting together, only realising as I’m editing 😭 I promise you I’ll write general headcannons to the trope soon, I’m so sorry! I’ll probably do NSFW headcannons in that too, just as an extra sorry and for my own enjoyment.

—

Soft Spot — Lockie Richards

Fem!Reader

Warnings: injuries (blood, infection), anxiety, awkward Lockie, yandere themes

—

• Lockie sits rigid in her seat, nursing her hand protectively. Her eyes are wide, darting around with uncertainty and terror. People bustle around her, wheeling trolleys and carrying boxes. The woman’s out of her comfort zone, like a fish out of water.

• Lockie had never liked hospitals, but ever since she spent months recovering in one, she had started to loathe them. That’s why it took her so long to come here, to the base’s own hospital wing, a large room filled with beds sectioned off by curtains. She’s currently waiting for a nurse to fetch her for a free bed.

• She’s sweating and her head hurts. She’d had a terrible fever, and she felt sick. That wasn’t even the issue that she’d come here — her hand was.

• “Miss Richards?” A woman in her forties calls her, and she shakily stands up. She feels so weak, so exposed and vulnerable. She hobbles along after the woman, who shows her a bed and tells her to get comfortable.

• Lockie lays down and closes her eyes. She almost falls asleep, until she hears the curtain being pulled open and a trolley of medical supplies being wheeled in. She opens her eyes and almost screams.

• Her nurse was you. You. You! Of all people, why you?

• She stares at you in horror, and all you can do is grin. You’d gained a reputation for being very confrontational and hard-working, despite your small size. Like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, you lured people into a false sense of security, only to eat them up for dinner. People like Lockie were terrified of people like you. You were completely unreadable, completely unpredictable.

• And Lockie was completely and utterly obsessed with you. She was a fiend, following you home and watching you in the streets. You were addictive, her brain trying to figure you out. You were so small, yet so domineering. Lockie’s perfect woman. She loved you so much, yet it was from a distance. She never said hello to you, or even acknowledged you. She didn’t want to risk loosing you, even if it means never having you.

• “Let me see your hand, love,” you say in your smooth voice, sitting on the edge of her bed. She swallows thickly, cheeks turning bright red as she shakily moves her hand so you can access it.

• You unwrap the sloppily-applied bandages and frown, staring at her injury. Her whole hand was swollen, a deep, disgusting, oozing laceration across her palm. It was very infected, and dirty, as if she’d been making mud pies in her free time.

• “How on earth did it get this bad?” You ask, looking at her with a confused look.

• Lockie looks down, ashamed. She never liked to admit when she was hurt. A cut was a cut to her, they never mattered… until sepsis comes into the picture.

• You sigh, before starting to clean it. You instruct her to slowly drink some water, as she was dehydrated, and that she’d been hooked up soon to help with that.

• She’s surprised by how gentle you are. Despite your personality, you’re so soft with your movements, making sure to not hurt her as you clean and apply antibacterial cream. You tell her that she’ll be here for a while, and that you need to monitor her due to the infection, and eventually stitch up the wound when it was gone.

• Lockie doesn’t say a word, just nodding to everything you say. You can’t help but smile at how shy and quiet she was, she was adorable in her own way.

• Over the days she can head you barking orders to people, and it makes her heart flutter when she realises that you’re gentle with only her. The man next door to her got a stern talking to for simply adjusting his position during treatment, and yet you never raised your voice around her.

• Most likely, you’d heard about her condition and chosen to stay nice and quiet to not trigger her anxiety, but Lockie chose to believe you had a soft spot for her. It helped her through these few days, and by the fourth day, you numbed her hand and stitched it up before bandaging it.

• She was ready to leave now. She felt empty as she shuffled towards the exit. Even though she was finally leaving the place she hated most, she didn’t want to leave you. She finally had spent some time with you, and you were even more amazing than she thought.

• “Hey, wait!” She turns around to look at you. “Here! Call me.” You wink and run back into the hospital, leaving Lockie staring at a piece of paper with your phone number on it, a deep blush on her cheeks, her whole body trembling. Thank god you had the gall to ask, as Lockie would have never plucked up the courage.

#yandere #oc #x reader #oc x reader #yandere x reader #fem oc #fem reader

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horsetailcurlers2 · 2 months

Note

hi! for the anon asks:

1. how old were you when you first started reading fanfic/engaging in fandom?

2. what’s a hobby you really like to do?

3. favorite piece of media from your youth?

(bonus question if i may, do you make character playlists?)

i hope you have a wonderful rest of your day/night :)

hi! thank u for the asks :)

1. i want to say 10 or 11 but now that i’m thinking about it it might have been closer to eight or nine bc i vividly remember looking for percy jackson quizzes on quotev on the family computer and just happening to stumble across fanfiction for the first time- most of which were about traumatized orphaned self insert characters being taken to camp half blood lol. and i ate it up

2. i’m really into making miniature model kits. i also recently got into cross stitching and i’m really enjoying it so far.

3. percy jackson for sure. i was a greek mythology kid from a young age and one day i asked my fourth grade teacher if she had any greek mythology books in her classroom library and she gave me a copy of the lightning thief and i haven’t been normal since. but also idk if anybody else remembers these but i was DEEPLY obsessed with them- the “my sister the vampire” series.

i do sort of make character playlists but they are all so hyper specific to my weird nebulous headcanons that they don’t actually make any sense unless you have access to my brain lol. and also i kind of have lame taste in music so they’re never as comprehensive as i would like.

#ask game #anon ask

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ava-core · 4 months

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so i got a lot of love for phoebe, my mean girl female manipulator courier six :’) i’m so glad people like her!! granted, she’s not…likeable beneath her veneer of practiced amicability, but i’m still happy people dig her concept! i know i do, complicated couriers are my bread and butter—and incorporating more traditionally feminine elements into this specific storyline that’s no less brutal than may bells’ was a treat to do!!

my process on making her under the cut!!

(ALSO I FINISHED AN ENTIRE DOC ADHD YOU LOST TODAY)

honestly, phoebe came to me like lightning one day: i was resting from finals and still in the middle of my may bells playthrough when i came across this neat analysis of regina george as a dictator on my youtube FYP:

youtube

my half-dry brain: what if…we made a courier six that’s JUST LIKE THAT. an enigma of feminine power who weaponizes her assets to survive the wasteland?

and just like that, courier six phoebe was born. at her very core, i modeled her after the film noir femme fatales, but instead of ultra-vampy and mysterious, the persona she’s carefully curated is more on ‘untouchable angel’: she will smile, shake hands, do your errands and be nice, all the while keeping a distance because she knows you know that she’s only a dream you can have. but what wouldn’t you do for such a dreamy girl in the middle of the post-post-apocalyptic nightmare?

still, that doesn’t mean she’s no less deadly. she’s still human. if you piss her off, she’s going to…respond.

also, as you can see in her inspiration sheet, a huge chunk of the pegs i had for her are ultra-feminine queen bees, with varying degrees of…kindness. they’re also young, because she’s young: by the time the events of new vegas roll around, she’s only 20 years old.

let’s get to specifics (L-R, top to bottom)

Rita Hayworth’s Gilda: this one is pretty self-explanatory. call her what you want: the bombshell, the femme fatale, the desert angel, she doesn’t care if it gets her caps, favors, and access to things she otherwise wouldn’t have if she was true to her more awkward and snooty self.

Nicole Kidman’s Suzanne Stone, To Die For: yeah, that’s a face to die for. for phoebe, they also share in that all-consuming ambition: once phoebe gets a goal, it doesn’t matter what’s going on or what’s going to stop her. nothing is going to get in her way to achieve it, even if it means she has to kill someone. or open her legs.

Katherine Heigl’s Izzie Stevens: for this character, she’s more of a physical inspiration. in FNV’s character creation, i had a picture of her on standby to serve as a peg to copy LMFAO even downloaded a mod to make her pretty. i’ve been so obsessed with katherine heigl none of you understand :’) but if any of you have watched grey’s anatomy, you’ll know how genuinely sweet and nice izzie is. that’s the persona phoebe puts forward: scrappy, kind, will bake you cookies if you need it, optimistic and happy. even if she’s not those things, not at her core.

Rachel McAdams’ Regina George: yeah. evil takes a form in phoebe buendia, her doctor ex would say. and maybe she’s right: just like regina, she lies, smiles, and chokes behind the scenes to stay on top in terms of power—the most a courier can wield, anyway. she’s also still just barely out of being a teenage girl: it’s not an entirely happy life pretending you’re sweeter than you are almost 24/7. so she gets her reprieve with the kill missions, especially when the Legion sends her assassins—hell yeah. also, to cultivate a cult of personality, you have to be intelligent. so many people are unaware of how smart phoebe is; the girl’s a damn genius, but she doesn’t play on that often. it’s a big advantage to be underestimated.

Alexa Demie’s Maddy Perez: like izzie, the biggest thing i got from her for phoebe is the allure. the aura. you can’t tell me you don’t look at alexa demie’s smize and not fall to your knees in awe of such sheer beauty. that’s the effect phoebe has, even on the most hardened in the mojave. and, well, yeah, again—just a young girl with confidence oozing out of every unblemished pore.

Natalie Dormer’s Margaery Tyrell: out of all of them, i’d say she’s the most similar to phoebe in terms of personality. she’s known for her ‘beautiful altruism’, with sweeping gestures of charity for anyone who would accept: it’s why freeside and westside love her. but behind closed doors, she’s power-hungry, irritable, petulant and even borderline psychopathic in her quest for ‘a better Mojave, no matter the cost’.

Another major influence, though not pictured here, is the Sofia Coppola-brand of feminine gloom (when she simmers down, or when she was back home in Shady Sands), specifically The Virgin Suicides.

her past + more on her personality is inside the doc! i hope you guys love her as much as i do even though if i met her irl she’d probably flick my forehead for kicks </3

(p.s. i haven’t even talked about her love interests: the aforementioned centurion enemy-husband, legion recruit begrudging ally, followers of the apocalypse ex, and even another one that’s a terrifying great khan who will rip hundreds to shreds to see her smile…should i make a doc about that? it’s in these dynamics her complicated personality shines through the most lmfao)

#fallout #fallout new vegas #courier six #fnv #c6 #phoebe buendia #mean girls #female rage #YEAH FEMALE RAGE this girl hates men like NO OTHER #femme fatale #bombshell #fallout oc #new california republic #Youtube

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kingkatsuki · 2 years

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i am watching 28 weeks later and had some thoughts that refuse to leave my brain.

throughout the first half of the movie, there’s always around 1-5 soldiers stationed with sniper rifles hundreds of feet away from each other watching a skyscraper that holds most of the people living in the safe zone.

now there’s a sweet route, where bakugou spots you while you’re doing research in your apartment. thinks the space is so, cute. every time it’s his shift, he always sets his view back to your apartment if there’s a lull in activity. maybe he runs into you one day, when he realizes that you’re exiting your aptment and his shift is ending around the same time. runs down the stairs to accidentally run into you.

anyways my real pervasive thought was someone sleazy from the baku squad spotting you first. you’re changing in your apartment, curtains open because so what? you’re half way into they sky plus zombies existed not that long ago. they spot you reaching behind your back to unhook your bra and their finger goes to their walkie before their mind does.

“level 22, room 10. real cutie.”

bakusquad stops what they’re doing, immediately turning their scopes to what see what the fuss is about. telling whichever poor soul is on shift w them to “keep watch” on the rest of the tower holding almost 15,000 survivors.

all of them have the nastiest things to say about you and your body, the things they would do.

“god the fuckin rack.”

“just wanna bend her over and-”

“wouldn’t be able to walk for weeks after i’m done.”

“don’t mind, could always carry her to mine.”

having a code word when it’s a night shift and you turn your lights low. for when it gets a little hotter in that stuffy apartment but not for lack of warmth. when they watch you pull that vibrator out of your side table and rock it back and forth.

beating their cocks to the sight of you on the brink of cumming.

they’ve seen you edge yourself more times than they can count. why don’t they help a little thing like you tonight. you look like you need it. it’s time to put a use to these ‘all access cards.´

AHHH I’M SO OBSESSED WITH THIS. Because you know you always see Pro-Heroes chilling on top of buildings and shit, they’ve definitely seen a lot of shit they shouldn’t have. So imagine if they peeked into your apartment and saw you?

The thought of them repeatedly coming back to you too, learning your schedule and the best times to peer in. The dirty and depraved thoughts running through their minds as they fist their cocks to the sight of you. They’re such icky pervs.

But imagine catching them doing it though?👀

#not mine #I’m so obsessed with this ahhhh #tw:dubcon #trigger:dubcon

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jaitropdonglets · 25 days

Text

Autistic People Party, Too

8min read

Here was this entire underworld of debauchery set to heavy bass, the kind that gets up in your rib cage and rattles all your insides. The songs all flowed into each other, pulling along a room roiling with bodies, all beholden to the beat. The DJ conducted an entire crowd full of strangers in the dark by turning a few nobs and pressing the right buttons.

People were meeting, and flirting, and touching, and it looked like chaos but upon closer observation, there was a sort of hierarchy, and a litany of unwritten social customs to learn.

Don’t show up til midnight. When you do, make sure you’re drunk already. Smile confidently at the bouncer when he looks at your obviously fake ID. Make friends with the host, if she likes you then she can get you on any VIP list. Squeal when you see someone you only know from other parties, put on a show as if you had absolutely no idea you would see them there (even though you both go to this party every week). Hug them as if they are your long lost lover back from war.

Don’t forget to do your laps around the club every half hour to say hello to all the rest of the regulars, you wouldn’t want to become irrelevant.

It was not a world I could really navigate myself, to be honest. I leaned heavily on three helpers: my charismatic boyfriend, my camera, and alcohol. The boyfriend handled all the schmoozing, the mingling, and the social ladder climbing. The alcohol handled my nerves, and the camera gave me a purpose — something to do, someone to be.

Every socialite loves a party photographer. My camera got me access, respect, and inclusion. Suddenly I was front row, center, I was on stage, I was being dragged into back rooms where people were offering me keys loaded with cocaine. All I had to do was smile and click — as a “hot girl” in tiny shorts, nobody really cared if I was witty or conversational. They didn’t keep me around for that, and besides, the music was too fucking loud, anyway.

Of course, alcohol greased the wheels of my social abilities; I’d been leaning on it for that since I found my mom’s tequila in the back of a cabinet when I was 15. Heavy drinking made words come out more easily, lubricated the pathway between my brain and my mouth where things often got stuck. It also kept me from worrying if I was doing it right, and gave me something to blame when I didn’t. Oops, did I say something weird? Ha ha, I must have been so drunk. I am such a mess. Isn’t that fun?

What I really loved about nightclubs was the way the dancefloor made me feel. The beat pulsed through my body and vibrated my brain in a way that allowed me to forget myself. I was a boat bouncing on the waves of a bassline, I was no one and everyone at once. There’s a beautiful sense of unity that happens when a group of sweaty humans move to the same song together in an unlit room.

I didn’t have to talk, or make eye contact, or feign interest on the dancefloor. Moving my body was enough, and I could move it anyway that I wanted. (There should be no judgement on a dancefloor — it is one of my cardinal rules.) With the lights flashing colors, the music rattling bones, and my body shaking in time, it was the ultimate stim.

I didn’t understand the sensory-seeking nature of what I was doing back then; I just knew it felt good. I called it “dancefloor therapy”.

It’s something I’d been doing alone since I was a child. I would put on C+C Music Factory, turned up as loud as it would go, and dance til I was exhausted, my favorite songs on a loop. I would make up fake dance routines to NSYNC and Britney, practicing them alone in my room for hours. In my 20’s I got very intensely into hula hooping. I still do things like this now, whenever I’m left in an empty house: my solo dance parties.

If the word “autistic” makes you think, Sheldon Cooper, math genius, hates loud noises, obsessed with trains, you have become victim to autism’s mainstream stereotype. We are not all like this. In fact, there is so much variation within the autistic category, you probably know a few autistic people, who may or may not even know themselves as autistic yet.

I didn’t have my Come-to-Autism moment until I was 30. I had grown up with a brother six years my junior who (mostly) fit that mainstream stereotype. He was my reference for what “autistic” looks like, and since we were so different, I never considered it for myself. I was an artist, and I loved dancing, and I didn’t care about trains. I went to parties! Autistic people don’t go to parties!?

Turns out, when your special interest is other humans, you do go to parties. You go to a lot of parties, and you dedicate yourself to learning how socializing works, and you observe and you mimic and you become someone other people want to keep around. Enter: Jess the Party Photographer. Enter: Jess the Hot Drunk Girl.

My camera became a small monkey I couldn’t get off my back — I never went anywhere without it. I had anxiety if I did. What if something beautiful happened in front of me and I couldn’t capture it? What is the point of going anywhere if I can’t photograph what I’m seeing and store it away in my collection?

Photographing gave me something to cling to, a way to understand, a tangible record of a bewildering world. It also kept me at arms-length — I didn’t participate, I documented. It was a socially-acceptable kind of watching.

My camera took me places. It was a buffer between me and the world, and I’m not sure I would have gone so far and done so much without it. But after a decade I started to wonder if I was really experiencing the present moments of my life when I always had a camera between my face and the world. Slowly, gradually, I stopped pulling it out of my bag. I started leaving it at home, and participating. I stopped drinking, and I stopped going to parties.

Getting sober made me more autistic, or rather, forced me to experience the world without a chemical buffer. I had initially stopped drinking because I thought it would lessen my depression, which had become severe and chronic, but a consequence I didn’t expect was a full identity crisis. I realized that I was a fundamentally different person sober, and it was the first time I had stopped drinking for long enough to get to know that person.

Without alcohol and a camera, I don’t like parties as much, but it really depends on the variables. There are so many! Who is at the party? Where is the party? What do I have to wear to the party? What kind of music is playing at the party? (This, I would argue, is the most important variable…have you ever rocked up to a party where they were only playing trance? Fuck trance.)

It’s very context-dependent, and sometimes contradictory.

I wear noise-cancelling headphones all day, because noise that I can’t control irritates my nervous system, but you will also find me front-row at a show, laying on the fucking speakers until I get sound-bruises on my thighs. I both abhor noise and crave loud music — sensitivity and sensory-seeking are not mutually exclusive.

Similarly, I love losing my body and soul in a crowd on a dark, hazy dancefloor, but a crowd echoing through a bright fluorescent mall will fuck me right up.

In the psychedelic community, they talk about Set and Setting — your mindset and your physical and social environment have a huge influence on your experience. (I know this, because, contrary to popular belief that autistic people are all innocent pure beings who can do no wrong, I did a lot of drugs!) I think Set and Setting are relevant outside of psychedelic trips, though, and perhaps even more so for people who have higher sensitivities.

Good Mood + People I Like + Comfortable Space = Good Time, but Exhaustion + People I Don’t Know + Unfamiliar Space = Bad Time.

Good Mood + People I Don’t Know + Unfamiliar Space could be a Good Time, though, it just depends on the aforementioned variables. My ability to handle any situation and come out mentally and emotionally unscathed is entirely hinged on Set and Setting.

Stereotypes get in the way of our understanding of others, and even of ourselves. I didn’t ever consider that I could be autistic because I was a Social Butterfly Party Person for so long, but now that I understand camouflaging, how easy it is to overlook socially-acceptable special interests, the use of heavy drinking as a social tool and, you know, the fact that not all autistic people are introverts, I see how ridiculous and limiting that assumption was.

Generalizing about other people is a natural pattern-seeking thing our brains do, but it also makes us miss things. We have to stay open and curious and ask questions, and always remember that shoving a human brain into a little box does a grave disservice to a beautiful, complicated thing. Contrary to popular belief, autistic people party, too. You just have to play the right music.

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lingbinghua · 2 years

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I was tagged by @verycharismaticdragon to

Shuffle your 'On Repeat' spotify playlist and list the first 10 songs that play! (Feel free to adapt to whatever "liked/played recently" version of things you have on something Not Spotify as needed)

I’m using the recently played playlist in apple music! Would have used my most played but I don’t think it’s fully reflective of my tastes anymore. Sounds weird no? But most of the songs I have on that one I’ve had for years and I’m not as into those artists anymore. So I’m using most recently played as a better gauge. Still a little wonky but eh, works well enough! I’ve linked the songs to their spotify equivalents since I think that’s more universal access.

What’s Wrong | half alive- I really like what I’ve heard from them! I think Move Me is still my favorite, it made me cry the first listen. Felt like someone worded something for me.

Belong to You | Sabrina Claudio- A recommendation from a friend! I like how chill it sounds but get weirded out once I pay attention to the lyrics. It’s pretty intimate in a way I don’t like and I keep it for character playlists ngl.

O My heart | Mother Mother- Rediscovered this song when I watched the Wrecking Ball LiuShen animatic. Listened to the whole album and it’s a banger. Wrecking Ball is my favorite track.

LOVE ME RIGHT | EXO- such a fun song, always puts me in a good mood.

Mercury | Sleeping At Last- this song ALSO makes me cry. This and Venus are so lovely. I try not to skip them. They sit in a nice little alcove of my heart with some others, like Move Me and coincidentally:

Intro: Serendipity | BTS (Jimin)- favorite BTS song along with Butterfly.

Frost | TXT- I like listening to this most in the run of the whole album.

Iine! | BTS- i looped pt 2 HARD the first 2 years I was into BTS.

Ending Song- Merry-Go-Round of Life | Chieko Baisho- Howl’s Moving Castle is my favorite ghibli film.

Midas Touch | AURORA- Discovered this through a RanWan animatic recently and I’m obsessed with it, it loops in my brain rent-free. Her song Exist for Love is another in the heart alcove.

@pichirobi ur turn pls

#thanks for tagging me dragon!

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soupjug · 2 years

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can i like not dream about him? thanks

#so my hypothesis is that this is the one time my brain has attempted to have a crush #and oh goodness is it not working #first of all it been years #and my attitude towards him is he not not ugly #he’s fucking weird and had no idea what person boundaries are #one of those ‘dark edge humor’ types #the kid that gets joked on as a school shooter #some good friends and some probably shity ones #supersizingly touchy with some of them (ugh) ?#greasy as hell #shave goddamn it #tall with a stupid low voice #is capable of being sweet? amiable maybe?#and difficult to read sometimes because of his tone #today he walked around the gym with a foil mushroom offering it to people and i took it cause why not #so that’s happened #but anyway #the one half of my brain that i don’t have access to is like obsessed with him #but i don’t really have the emotions that are meant to go alone with that #so really i just end up staring at him most of the time with no feeling what do ever #i don’t like this man and i don’t wanna pay attention to his #but it’s like he’s just standing in my periphery and i can’t ignore him #and it’s so hard to focus when he’s anyway in the vicinity #and it’s all very unpleasant because i have better things to do #i’m hoping this can’t happen again because im thinking my brain has solidified into one state #and I developed this thing right as I was going through my little schizoid transition #actually schizoid #szpd

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compassionatereminders · 5 years

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Coping 101 - a masterpost of down to earth resources

This post doesn’t contain links to many professional resources - it’s a list of coping tips from people who are mentally ill/disabled themselves and who all decided to share what has worked for them here on tumblr. In the last 7 months I have been sharing content created for and by mentally ill/disabled people on this blog - and to celebrate reaching 5000 followers, I have decided to collect all the best coping tips I’ve come across in one easily accessible place. Enjoy!

Managing emotions:

Letting go of emotional suffering via mindfulness.

DBT strengthening statements

Handling negative emotions

The “emotions are signals” method

The “mindfully recognizing emotions” method

Healthy perspectives on emotions

The “emotions are like hiccups” method

The “healthy outlets” method

Managing anxiety:

Coping statements for anxiety.

Breathing exercise gif

Breathing exercise gif 2

Things to remember when having an anxiety attack

The “just show up” method

The “panicky friend” method

Grounding techniques

The “I can survive the next 10 seconds” method

The “distract your brain” method

The “you will be able to cope” method

Managing depression:

7 depression tips and why they work

Depression tips

21 tips to keeping your shit together when you’re depressed

Managing executive dysfunction:

The “might as well” method.

The “one step access” method.

Why self-discipline isn’t always the answer.

The “use whatever works” method.

The “taking care of someone else” method.

The “june-bugging” method.

Tricks for pushing through executive dysfunction

The “do several things at once” method

The “accept your limits” methods

The “turn it into a game” method

The “anything worth doing is worth doing poorly” method

The “tricking your brain” method

The “untangling the spaghetti” method.

The “smaller steps” method

The “emergency cleaning” method

The “letting go of should” method.

The “my body is an animal I need to care about” method

The “fork theory” method

The “remove the barriers” method

The “half-ass things” method

Managing negative thinking:

Challenging cognitive distortions.

Finding alternative thoughts.

Challenging negative thoughts

How to get over past mistakes

Toxic positivity vs hope and validation

How to improve your self-esteem

Negative and positive cognitions

The “self neutrality” method

The “separate your negative qualities from your identity” method

Self talk to help end obsessions

Ten forms of twisted thinking + ten ways to untwist your thinking

Managing self care:

How to practice balanced self care.

Why hands-on hobbies are important

Ways to self-soothe

A list of mental illness workbooks

Ways to start feeling again

How to get back on track after a breakdown

How to self-soothe and treat yourself

Types of healthy coping skills

The “parenting yourself” method

An interactive self care guide

The “don’t ignore your needs” method

Online self care

Making the most of therapy

Free worksheets for people who can’t access therapy

The “add good things to your life” method

Showering for spoonies

The “do what you can” method

The “it isn’t a waste of time just because it won’t cure you” method.

Self care cheat sheet

The “create something” method

Managing school:

Studying with anxiety and depression

Studying with mental illness

Coping with dissociation in school

Managing exam periods when you’re mentally ill

The “done is better than none” method

How to survive college

Managing urges to harm yourself:

What to do to when you’re suicidal

Questions to ask before giving up

Alternatives to self harm

Coping with suicidal thoughts

#kat gets serious #coping #mental illness #disability #self care #executive dysfunction #feelings #anxiety #suicide tw #self harm tw

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harm0nianecterepassus · 2 years

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“Draco Malfoy and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being in Love” by Isthisselfcare (commentary, not a review! Just my inner thoughts as i read)

Day one: Of course I couldn’t wait and started reading last night 🫠 Currently on chapter 4 and i’m already laughing out loud and loving the small details. It’s so refreshing after reading three rather “serious” fics before… glad i made that choice! I think i’ll be updating my reading process in this post! So I’ll be editing it as i go and have it pinned to the top of my page for easy access… let’s goo!!

Day one update: how fucking GREAT and literally up my alley it is that this fic HAS VISUAL AID for places and such???! I’m the type of person who NEEDS a clear mental image so the story can flow in my head, whether is the layout of a house, a characters clothing, etc. (I literally have to remind myself how would 20-30’s Draco or Hermanione would look like bc i’m so used to them being teenagers in my head. I will look up more recent pictures of tom and emma to get an idea (is it only me who finds is hard to imagine Draco with a beard/facial hair and as an older guy still with white-blond hair? It’s like Tom but with bleached hair) and also VOICES, i can literally hear them talking in my head while reading dialogue… I know, my head is very stubborn and weird with the way it forms images and characters, am I the only one? Anyways, loving this “plus”!

Day two: how is it possible to LAUGH OUT LOUD SO MANY TIMES? My face hurts from it! I’m on chapter 8 and i’m so obsessed with Draco’s charcter: he’s witty, funny, sarcastic and charming while ALSO being a prat lol this is right up my alley, gosh I’m so happy right now… And Hermione’s demeanor is so well done! I love that this is more of a “draco’s pov” because all of the ones i’ve read are more from a Hermione’s pov and i find myself more drawn to know D’s thought process rather than H’s, i guess it’s bc we get to know much more of her through the canon storyline… ah, joy!

Day three: currently on chap 15. This HAS to be the best thing that i’ve ever laid eyes upon. It’s so well thought, places and references amazingly described and REFERENCED (i can’t get enough of it). The french references and dialogues, ah! Fabulous! the author said they’re half french so I love how much they included it. Anyways, i’m GIDDY every two minutes, i laugh my arse off with every joke and “quirky moment”, this is definitely a “slow burn” but it’s so well done, you can *actually* see it progressing but it’s so effortless that it just makes sense. I have a feeling i’ll finish this one before the weekend ends and i’m already sad! Will update soon!

Day four: ah! Finally, a kiss! I have to say, i’m loving this slow burn, because there’s so much interesting stuff happening in between, i can’t complain; love their outings, and parties and intimate dinners and everything! It all feels so organic and it’s entertaining, the story advances flawlessly. I love that, even when there are no romantic things happening, the story in itself is so good and captivating… you know i love my references, and they add the perfect amount of *pzaz* to help my brain create an entire scene.. As always, BRILLIANT! Favorite characters so far (aside from d&h): Henrriette is the GOAT; Nott, always a fave through the fics i’ve read; Crooks, a king as always. And honorable mention to the Magdalena’s skull, she was iconic!

Day five: UNHINGED NUNS!!!! Chapter 33 was So fucking good! I’m at the end of it now, only a few chapters left i believe, and i’ve enjoyed it so much! Honestly, what a beautifuly worded story, i’m in awe of the genious of Isthisselfcare, i don’t think i’ll ever be over this fic! Final stretch, here we go!

Update: ah! It’s over, me heart is full, i laughed until my face hurt, i screamed, i squealed, i felt every emotion possible~ and it was perfect! Thanks to the ppl who said i should read it first after The Fallout (which was rather dark at some points), because it gave me the dose of chill/happy/funny dhr i needed before jumping on to the next fic! I believe i’m leaning toward MoaM or should i grow some ovaries for a change and go straight into Manacled? Help! Anyways, just to conclude, of course this gets 5 out of 5 freaking golden, shinning, up-in-the-sky stars! Cheers!

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domthedevil · 3 years

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heyyy!! i’m like obsessed with your blog, and i hope you don’t mind me requesting this, you can decline if you have to 💕 i understand.

as stated in your irl, why not dom the devil? 😳 just making diavolo obey you aAAA maybe having him in a collar with a leash attached to it? pulling on it to make him look at you as you ride him? (with a gender neutral reader 👉👈).

haha, go crazy, i just wanted to suggest some ideas. as long as we get to dom diavolo, i’m okay lololol.

- @haienk

I love you. I’ve been trying to put something together for a dom the Diavolo fic and now I am at peace and full of inspiration. The sweet prince needs to be punished. 💋

Tamed Puppy

Diavolo x MC

Warnings: Long, bondage, sub!Diavolo, degradation kink, flogging, pet play, sensory play,...feet. 👀

He’d always told you he wanted to let you take control. The prince wanted to be un-princely for once, and he trusted you more than anyone else to help fulfill his needs. You loved how much he let you ease into things, but this he didn’t have to. You were more than happy to treat him un-princely like.

So you brought him to his chambers, stripped him down and made him sit like a good pet as you prepared everything. Making him watch as you slowly move to make him wait even longer. To see the look of a lost puppy without his master yet.

“M-MC...you can tighten this if you’d like.”

Helping him put on his collar for the first time, you couldn’t help the smile across your face. So eager, like a puppy begging to be trained. You’d already placed the blindfold over his eyes, making every new accessory a surprise to all of his senses.

“More like this?” You whispered softly as you tightened it only one more notch. But his moaned response told you it was perfect. “Have you already been broken in, Diavolo. Or are you just so eager to be treated like my pathetic pet?”

“I’ve always wanted you, MC...”

Moving behind him, you used the bondage tape that resembled vinyl to tightly bind his arms to each other. The heat on his face made you laugh quietly. Enjoying the expressions he made as he realized how much you were doing. Enjoying the lack of control, his cock had already began to stir. When did he get like this?

Now that you had him tied up and accessorized, you walked around him in a circle. Diavolo turned his head as your foot steps rang out in the quiet room. The deep red flush across his face complimented his already adorably pathetic state. It was easy to see he was already excited. He must have been holding back these desires for a long time.

“You’re already half hard. I haven’t touched you yet, really.”

“I’m so excited, I can’t help it.” His cheerful smile shone through, making you grow more aroused as well.

Sitting on the couch near his bed, you led Diavolo with you on a short leash. Not being able to use his arms was a little difficult, but he managed to follow your orders. Obeying you every order, he sat on his knees with his thighs spread wide open. With a foot still clad in a sock, your placed your big toe on the tip of his impressive cock. The prince whined in surprise.

“Let’s see if you have any self control. I can’t play nice all the time with my little pet...” the ball of your foot rubbed up and down his shaft, earning more and more deep moans from Diavolo. “I have to train you to be a good boy.”

His breathing was growing heavier, feeling something vague and soft against his cock had his brain occupied as you spoke. It didn’t matter what it was, but he wanted more of it. The friction against his ever hardening member pressed against your toes. Maybe the prince was enjoying himself too much? When Diavolo’s hips began to rut against you, you pulled away quickly. Earning whine.

Diavolo heard you stand, he worried maybe he’d crossed some line, but you didn’t let him wonder for too long. A firm smack against his ass made Diavolo jump. He lost his balance, resting his face against the floor as you pushed his hips up. Another loud crack of the short flogger you hid from the prince as a surprise rang out. Met in volume only by Diavolo’s whines. Accepting he was going to be flogged, he wiggled his hips with enthusiasm.

“Bad pets get punished, my lord.” Your own body was hot, watching him so needy for you was arousing. And the little noises coming from him were all for you. Only you.

“Y-yes. Master.”

The title sent a chill down your spine. You couldn’t help but be a little rougher, excited by his obedient submission. Soon his cheeks were a mix of pink and a light shades of red. His panting and groans paused as you ran a loving hand over the marks that crossed his beautiful skin. You pulled his hair to help him back on his knees.

With his leash dragging behind him, Diavolo moved to sit on the bed the way you desired. Removing his blindfold you ordered him to stay like a good boy. You’ll reward him a little for being such a good pet. Taking a few steps away you undressed slowly, you saw that same puppy look from before, but with a much different emotion. All the desire he held was easily read on his face. Achingly slow you undressed, letting each button and each layer take just a moment longer to remove than usual. Once bare, with clothes tossed carelessly to the side, you walked back to your pet.

To his surprise, you knelt between his legs. Your hands traced his thighs, spreading them so that you had access to his weeping cock. He must have been really close to coming against your foot. You took a precarious lick at the slit of his length. Diavolo shivered as he helplessly looked down. So badly he wants to grab at your hair, push his cock down your throat, and fuck you senseless. But you had other plans. Circling the tip of his dick, your tongue picked up the rest of his precum.

“MC...too good.”

“You deserve a little reward. You’re a better pet than I thought.” The small praise made him smile and rut his hips slightly against your tongue and lips. You wouldn’t let him inside your mouth. Seeing him desperate for it was adorable though.

Diavolo’s face fell slightly as he realized you were teasing him, not letting him pass your lips. Now that he could rub his shaft against your wet tongue at least gave him some relief. He began chanting your name as he slowly started to tense in his abdomen. The prince wasn’t used to being denied this long, and he was growing more needy than ever. If only he could get his hands free, push you down and fuck you again.

“M-MC please. I want to come.”

“Oh? You think you get to finish before I do?” Your voices sent warm puffs of air against his saliva coated member.

Much to his dismay, you stood up from the floor and pushed him back on the bed. The prince’s burning orgasm fading slightly. Immediately you were on top of him. Thighs warming both sides of his waist. He looked up at you with the same pathetic expression only you would ever get to see. Grabbing his leash you ordered him not to move while you hovered above him.

Kissing his jaw line and down to his neck, you left bites and bruises. Love notes he could brag about later. Each sending chills down his spine. And the the grinding of your hips against his cock made it leak with eager seed.

Finally you aligned your hips with his overly sensitive dick. Diavolo almost whined as you lowered yourself down. He was easily the biggest partner you’d ever had, and each ride on his cock discovered something new inside you each time.

“Fuck...Diavolo...b-be a good boy and stay still.” Though your legs were trembling, you moved yourself up and down slowly. Easing the length inside to familiar places that you both knew could make you scream. Stilling his hips, Diavolo loudly panted and moaned. Unable to hold back, not that he had to when you treated him like this.

Tugging his leash you made him sit up to be eye level with you. You both shared your erotic expressions before a long and heated kiss. His greedy tongue pressed pass your lips and tangled with yours. A moment after, you heard the tape you’d wrapped his arms in tear and soon his strong arms were wrapped tightly around your torso.

“I can’t stay still, Master. I need it so badly...”

Though he broke through his restraints, you still had his collar. You couldn’t deny how great it felt to be filled up with his royal cock and you didn’t want to wait any longer either. As Diavolo’s hips thrusted up into you, your whole body grew hotter than it was before. Being stretched and filled over and over, your moans grew as loud as his. You pulled his leash roughly to bring him closer, catching his lips in a deep kiss.

Chanting his name you showered him in praises. He’s a good boy. So obedient and loves his master. He’s the best boy, the best! And the prince ate it up. Returning the praises, making you both flushed with heated cheeks.

Sporadic hip thrusting cut your last sentence short as he grew closer and closer. Your own orgasm was just about to reach its peak. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your face against his ear, you let the breathless moans and whines breeze by his ear. The voice he found so sweet made his hips move even faster.

“Coming. Diavolo. Your such a good boy making me come like this. Such a good boy...” Your voice trailed off into a moan as you reached your climax. Walls clenching around him tightly, the prince held on to the sheets beneath him as he tried to hold back.

“C-can I come? Master please let me come inside you.”

“That’s good. Come then. Come for me.”

A few shaky thrust later, Diavolo buried himself deep inside you. Filling you with thick ropes of seed. Having to hold back, even just a little, pent him up with so much frustration and the relief from coming inside you fixed it all. You moved with trembling legs to rest beside him. Thankful for the cool, soft sheets on your heated skin.

Diavolo took the initiative to clean you and himself up. Seeing as how he was the only one who could walk. Once back on the bed next to you, he flipped on his stomach so you could rub his still pink bottom. The touch soothed him strangely. You shared a bright smile with each other as you both came back down to hell.

“So...how did it feel to not be a prince for a day?”

“Hmmmm...rough, but good.”

“Did you say ruff? Was that a pun?”

“What’s a pun?”

#ns//fw #obey me fanfic #obey me smut #om! fanfic #om! smut #obey me diavolo #om! diavolo #obey me #om!#obey me gn!mc #obey me lemon #om! lemon

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neocatharsis · 3 years

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Ten on his new Represent capsule, grappling with creativity, and evading genre lines.

As Ten Lee - a vocalist and dancer in K-pop groups NCT (with whom he debuted in 2016) and Super M, and Chinese group WayV - is musing over his proclivity for partnering music or visual styles in a way that others deem strange, he veers off on a tangent. “Anything can be matched… except juice and coffee,” he says, suddenly. “Those two should never be.” Ten is infamously anti-fruit. It stems from a mistaken process of association in childhood where “I had the image of a spider and the image of fruit mixed up,” he laughs awkwardly, “so now whenever I put fruit in my mouth, I think there’s spiders in my mouth.”

Random abstractions such as this pepper his rapid-fire conversation, like small fireworks fizzing through the dark. Excitable, enthused and sharply alert, if Ten’s energy was visible it would be a shimmering mantle of gold and silver dust. As a dancer, he moves with a sinuous, controlled power that can shift from elegant to explosive on a single beat. As a visual artist, the Bangkok-born, multilingual 25-year-old recently added the title of designer to his growing list of achievements, launching an already sold out collaboration with the bespoke merch platform Represent.

Aptly, he named his collaboration “What is ??? THE ANSWERS”, for although being a chameleonic artist is one of Ten’s greatest strengths, the personality traits that enable this created within him question marks around how he saw himself fitting into the world. “People ask me, ‘What kind of music do you like?’ And I say, ‘I like R&B but hope it sounds rock’. And they’re like, ‘That doesn’t make sense’.” It was troubling to Ten that people began telling him who he was and how he should be, instead of accepting him as is.

In a recent Instagram Live, the myriad of Ten’s contrasts tumble forthwith. He’s the doting cat-dad. His inner emo, who loves rock music, shows off dried roses, with the stern, black, geometric lines of the large tattoo on his inner right arm sometimes visible. But he’s also delicate in a way, with his butterfly tattoo and hair lightly permed, who names daisies as his other favourite flower, and plays Fousheé’s breathy TikTok hit, 'Deep End'.

“Have you seen the image where I have my name in a cross in lots of different languages?” He pulls the image up on his phone. The design sits on his Represent long sleeve tee. “I was thinking [about this], like, what you’re saying... Ten has this luvvie flower side and a very ‘rawwrr!’ side. I’m always like, ‘Ten, what kind of person are you?’ I do ask myself that, too, because everything I like is so different [to the other].” He could have conceded, and reined himself in. He’s pushed back instead. “I thought, ‘I can be anything I want, I can be this in the morning and this at night. I can be any person I want to be’. And that’s what makes me comfortable and happy.”

On his Instagram, Polaroids feature scrawled messages, like “Don’t tell me what to do!” and “Whatever! I’ll do it my way”. The designs of his collaboration seek to challenge being boxed in by other people’s standards, thus limiting ourselves. The recurring symbol of a cross tipped with arrows is a nod to the Chinese letter for 10, but doubles as a plus sign. He’s added it to his Instagram, writing “TEN_+•10” in his bio. “A plus sign can mean that you’re adding on and growing.” He points to another version of the arrow-cross, one with short diagonal dashes between its points that symbolise light. It means, he says, “that I’m radiating. I’m burning, I’m active, I’m doubling myself.” He touches his forearm, where crowning his geometric tattoo is a blazing sun. “I have this, like, if you want to be the light, you have to burn. I relate to that.”

This isn’t to say Ten’s self-exploration is complete. While celebrating his strengths, the artwork also portrays parts of himself not yet conquered. He admits to being a chronic overthinker: “Even very small things that happen to me, I rethink a thousand times, and I get stressed out because of the things I do. Like, the main theme [here] is me overthinking but trying to find an answer even though it doesn’t have any answer.” Fittingly, spiral shapes dominate his designs, looming large amongst bright, bold shapes that evoke 80s Pop Art and graffiti, though Ten shies away from defining himself as “fully an artist, I’m not in the position to say things like that yet.”

“I’m still learning and trying new things. You learn by getting different elements from different people and I’m in that stage now.” He enjoys wandering the infinite halls of Instagram and Pinterest where he screenshots art that he likes, lost in the images, often for hours. He explains that he’s mostly influenced by whatever his current visual obsession is. “I’m interested in tattoos lately so my paintings look like tattoo designs. I’m that person who, when they see stuff, it goes into my brain and instantly comes out from my hands,” he laughs.

Ten’s introduction to art and design was through his mother, who believed music, art and sport were more important in a child’s development than traditional academia. “She didn’t care if I got an A* or not, just don’t get an F or a D,” he grins. Like any kid forced to do something, Ten railed against spending his weekends at art school. He attended but he didn’t draw. He befriended his teacher and other pupils and, as they worked, he chatted. “I was a very talkative kid! When I came to SM Entertainment (in 2013), I had a lot of my own time because my parents were in Thailand and I was alone. I had to absorb all the new culture and adapt to a new environment.’” When he felt surrounded by “negative energy”, he began drawing, enamoured with the space and freedom it offered because in art, as he often says, “there’s no right answer.”

There is, however, sometimes a middle ground. His goal was to make the Represent collection accessible to his diverse fanbase. “I wanted to make things that people can easily wear because it was my first project to make something with clothes and it’s a collab. If you go too far out, no one will get it. If you go too far back, people won’t reach for it. So finding the middle ground is important but that’s the hardest thing to do. If it’s my own project, I’ll be like, ‘I’m the president of this brand, I’m gonna make all the weird clothes that I can imagine!’”

He sought second opinions to ensure his designs landed the way he hoped. “I have a lot of good friends around me - my choreographer, (SHINee and Super M member) Taemin hyung, my manager. I randomly ask people I’m comfortable with and have known for a long time, like Mark (Lee, of NCT and Super M). Mark has the same kind of perspective as me, but I’m a person who is arrghhh!” He waves his hands in the air. “And he’s very calm. I need a person who is opposite of me because when I’m in a mood, I talk nonsense - ‘I wanna do this, I wanna do that, I wanna make this!’ - and Mark’s like,’Bro, calm down’,” he says in a rather uncanny impression of the Canadian-Korean.

Ten works fast when he’s drawing. He has to. He describes his personality as someone who can't wait until the next day to do something. “I’m very impatient,” he smiles. “If I’m going to paint or draw, I’m going to finish it in, like, two hours. I can’t sit down for three hours.” When inspiration hits him, it’s off the back of deep contemplation, sometimes about the mundane - “Like, why do the cats come to me when they’re hungry only? Is it selfish or instinct? - at other times, something affecting him emotionally.

But whereas his job as a singer and dancer sees him project his energy outwards, art offers the opposite. He’s often alone in his room when he works. As is for many artists, the right mood is fundamental. “When I’m in a good mood, I can’t draw,” he half-sighs. It’s also a multi-sensory process. “Smell or the temperature of the room, that really helps me draw. I light three or four candles. And when I draw, it’s kind of heavy, the feeling,” he explains. “It feels like you’re sinking into something, into yourself, and everything seems so small. Everything narrows down into me, my pencil, the paper.”

The more work he does in different creative mediums, the less Ten’s desire is to keep them separate. His art, dance and music influence each other, whether it’s customising his own collaboration pieces, a choreography video in an art gallery or dancing underwater with a film crew. When someone tells him that something won’t work or match up well, he refuses to let the idea go until he’s attempted it.

“I’ve had that since I was young. I think everything is possible. If you don’t try, you don’t know. When people say it’s impossible, like dancing in water for three minutes, I’m like, then let’s make it possible. You don’t need to walk a straight line [in life], you can walk this way,” Ten says, pointing along an invisible line before switching sharply in direction. “Then go back on track, go that way, come back. No one should tell you to walk in a line, I don’t see the point of that.”

#nct #wayv #Ten

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joheunsaram · 4 years

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To Make A Power Couple - 02 (knj)

Chapter 2 - Pizza and Life Chats

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

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Summary- Namjoon and Y/N go on their first date, and Namjoon is whipped.

word count- 5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- pg13 for now

genre- series, fluff, eventual smut, strangers2lovers

warnings- mentions of hangovers and panic attacks, tooth-rottingly fluffy

a.n- okay here’s the second part! I wrote this up fairly quickly (don’t expect this to be the norm!). This part I wanted to kind of address the stress of overworking as a young adult (GUILTY 🙋🏻‍♀️) so sorry if it gets a little serious at parts. I also wanted to switch it up so it’s from Namjoon’s perspective. I hope you enjoy it. SOFT JOON BEING A BIG OLD SOFTY.

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut

Namjoon woke up startled as his phone alarm rang. He was groggy and his splitting headache made him nauseous. “I’m never going to drink again”, he mumbled. He groaned as he got off the couch he had crashed on the night before, trying not to trip over Taehyung who seemed to be dozing happily on the floor as he made his way to his room. He hadn’t stayed at the dorms in a while, preferring the quiet solitary of his own apartment nowadays, and with his hangover in full swing he felt like he was walking through a stranger’s house.

Last month was hell. He had procrastinated on his songs and none of the vocal guides were even halfway done before the due date. Every time he tried to finish a song a new one would pop up in his head and he would start on that, leading to a hard drive full of files labelled “finish soon” and “draft”, and a notebook full of scratched out scribbles. It was like his brain had decided to abandon him, deciding it had had enough of his perpetual melancholy. He had felt drained and burnt out, a husk with no creative juices left. Luckily, Yoongi and a few of the producers had taken pity on his stressed out state and lent a hand so he had been able to finish the bare minimum three days ago - before the label pressured him further. He was never more grateful for a small break.

In all honesty, he needed a way to jumpstart his brain, and get out of the routine of home, practice, meetings, studio, home. Sometimes, he almost wished he didn’t have the success he had so he could go out and let loose a little - a club, a party, anything. But the last time he went somewhere like that he got swarmed and the police had to be involved. He couldn’t risk that, not after the trouble Big Hit went to threaten media outlets a year and a half ago, when he was caught with what they called a hickey, but was actually a stress rash.

As he brushed his teeth today, however, he smiled at the mirror. Last month may have been terrible, but last night was one of the best he’d had in the past year.

When he had heard Bang PD’s team talk about how they were attending the charity gala as he met them for notes on his songs, he was intrigued. He had read about this non-profit in the paper before. They seemed to be helping bridge the gap between people through communication and that spoke to him. So much so that he had scrolled through their website multiple times, reading testimonials and almost memorizing the mission statement. They wanted to help kids learn English for free so they could communicate globally. He really liked the idea. It was hard for him to learn the language as a kid and he knew that the only reason he became as fluent as he is from the tutors his parents paid for and his obsession with American television and music. Although he didn’t need the tutoring anymore, he did enjoy talking to the in-house tutor at the company, John, from time to time and improving his skills. The fact that this company wanted to add a John to every school in Korea starting from the rural areas, made Namjoon want to meet the man behind the movement. Little did he know, he’d be meeting the girl who’d shift his idea of the ideal.

He had never been more glad to have convinced his company to let him and the boys attend an event. He had initially suggested it as a way to break the mundane before their comeback practices started and network while supporting a cause he liked. Two days ago, he wouldn’t have guessed it would have been an actual fun night leading to him nursing a headache.

He spent the next hour reliving last night as he showered and caught up on the news. He also read the messages he sent last night over a hundred times and had butterflies each time. Wasn’t he too old for butterflies? He wanted to message you again but every time he tried, he ended up overthinking it. Everything sounded forced or cheesy, and it was worse than any writer’s block. He threw his phone on the bed in frustration watching it bounce and land on the floor, before he grabbed it and pocketed it. Hopping around to get rid of his nerves, he decided to take a break from rereading the thread he already had memorized and check in with everyone. If his hangover was this bad he couldn’t imagine theirs.

Making his way back to the living room he found Taehyung now sitting on the floor, sleep still very evident on his features as he yawned and groaned. On the couch next to him sat Yoongi, holding an iced americano and staring into space. The rest were missing but he could hear a blender annoyingly whizzing in the kitchen.

“How’re you guys feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat across from Yoongi.

“This is why I don’t drink. Why did no one stop me?” Taehyung whined as he rose from the floor to leave, massaging his head.

“We tried. You were very excited to try all the disgustingly sweet drinks the hot bartender was making for you.” Yoongi replied with a sigh. “How was your date, Namjoon? You glad I forced you to go to the bar to talk to her?” he snickered, sipping his coffee before exhaling loudly in contentment.

“Honestly, I owe you big time. She was… amazing. I don’t think I’ve talked to someone that comfortably in a while” Namjoon sighed wistfully.

“I’ll add cupid to my resume,” he deadpanned. “Is she tolerating you for another date?”

“Yeah. We’re getting dinner on Tuesday, but I want to message her now. Argh!” He ran his hands over his face in frustration. “What do I even say? ‘Hi I’m the guy who was too scared to kiss you all night so you had to do it for him, what’s your favourite colour?’” Namjoon was annoyed at himself. It’s bad enough that he was having writer’s block in his music, did he have to have it for something as simple as texting too? This was ridiculous!

“Or you could just ask her how’s her hangover today. Jeez! Do I have to draft each of your messages? Stop being a dumbass and text the person you like.” Yoongi scoffed, clearly over Namjoon’s sudden and uncharacteristic insecurities.

Namjoon gave a resigned sigh as he reached for his phone and wrote out exactly what Yoongi suggested. Hey, he was his hyung for a reason - he had a full 6 months of life experience on him.

Namjoon: Hey! Hope your hangover is not too bad today.

As soon as the message was sent, he started getting nervous. Tapping his foot incessantly while he stared at his phone, willing it to buzz, annoying Yoongi enough to leave him alone on the couch in the process.

Y/N: Hi to you too! I actually don’t get hangovers so I’m doing great lol. What about you?

Namjoon: What do you mean you don’t get hangovers?

Y/N: I don’t know. Can’t get dehydrated if you’re always dehydrated!

Namjoon: That… makes no sense. Do I need to start reminding you to drink water?

Y/N: Only if you’re better than this app on my phone…

Namjoon: I can guarantee you I’m better than any app on this planet.

Y/N: Wow. Big claims! We’ll have to put it to the test I suppose.

Y/N: You never told me how you’re feeling. Oh and how’s Taehyung? Is he okay?

Namjoon: He’s doing fine. Made a pact to never drink again and if i’m being honest, I’m going to join him. I am shocked that your head is not exploding as well.

The messages continued easily after that, filled with updates of each other’s activities, playful flirting and even photos of dinner. By the time Monday rolled around, you had been messaging each other constantly, with no end to the conversation in sight and the only long pauses being when you were both asleep or working. It seemed like you would never run out things to talk about. Namjoon hadn’t messaged someone this frequently since he got out of his last relationship. It felt nice to relay his mundane day to day events to someone and he found himself excited to hear about your mundane, like how you decided to mix two different types of bad coffee blends to make a shockingly worse one. He was surprised again at how fast he felt comfortable around you. It was even starting to scare him a little - he only knew you for three days and it felt like he had known you forever! What was this weird spell you had on him?

The conversation Monday, however, was fairly sparse, and Namjoon was eager to set up plans for the next day, so that night he decided to call you.

After the first three rings, he was overthinking his decision. Maybe it was too soon to call? Maybe you didn’t like talking on the phone? What if it went to voicemail? Would he have to leave a message? What would he say? His inner monologue was quickly halted at the sound of your voice.

“Hello, this is Y/N” you sounded distant, almost too formal. He felt nervous.

“Hi… uh… this is Namjoon. Is this a bad time?”

“Oh Namjoon! Sorry I didn’t check who called when I picked up!” Relief washed over him at the change of your tone. “Sorry one sec can you hold on.” he heard you say as your voice got mumbled. He waited while he heard you talk to someone about proposals and deadlines. Were you still at work? He checked his watch - it was 10 pm. He didn’t know whether to be impressed by your work ethic or worried that you were overworking.

“Hi sorry about that! How are you?” He relaxed at your airy tone and smiled.

“I’m good. Are you still at work?”

“Yeah it’s only like 7 so it’s no big deal. I usually leave around 8” Were you serious?

“Y/N… It’s 10:04…” He was shocked at how nonchalant you sounded, and suddenly he had his answer - he was worried, not impressed. He had known you for three days and already you were setting his caretaker alarm off. He wanted to scold you for being careless and overworking, like he’s used to doing for the boys, but he knew it was too soon. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling that way all of a sudden and tried to suppress his protective instincts.

“No it’s not! It’s…” He could hear your voice going further away as he imagined you moving the phone in front of you to check the time. “Oh shit you’re right. What the hell? Okay sorry I’m gonna put you on hold again.” Before he could say anything he heard your voice again, distant again but loud. “Oh my god. Guys, it’s 10pm. Go home! Why did nobody tell me? No it doesn’t matter we can do that tomorrow. Please go home. Pack up now! You too Siwon, don’t worry I’ll go home after I get off the phone. See you!” He smiled at the sternness of your tone - it reminded him of a teacher dismissing class.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I overworked my team. Had to send the troops home” you laughed and Namjoon felt his heart flutter.

“I don’t wanna keep you from going home. I can call you back once you get there,” he offered. He felt bad that you were staying in an empty office on his account.

“Oh don’t worry about it. It was a lie to get Siwon off my back. I’m probably gonna be here till like 1 or something. I still have to get this done” you said matter-of-factly, like it was the most normal thing in the world. He knew that tone fairly well, having used it multiple times himself when he locked himself in his studio, running on nothing but coffee and energy bars.

“Okay I know we’ve only just met and we have our first date tomorrow, but do you want some company?” He asked before he could stop himself. The line was silent for a bit, and he felt self conscious, scared that he had overstepped and driven you away. Before he could check his phone to see if you had hung up you spoke.

“It’d be pretty boring for you to watch me just type away. Are you sure? It’s pretty late.” He was sure his cheeks would hurt from how wide he smiled.

“It’s not a problem at all. I was going to work tonight too.” He wasn’t. “We can just work together. I’ll bring food. Did you eat yet?” his words tumbled over each other.

“How very college of you.” He could hear you giggling on the line. “Now that I think about it - I’m starving.”

“Okay text me the address, I’ll be there soon.”

He had never been this excited to pretend to work.

He spotted you as he walked through the doors of the 13th floor, pepperoni pizza in hand. You were sitting at a long desk near the middle of the room. He was surprised as he expected you in an office, but he found you typing away at your desktop. Your hair was tied up in a bun and you were dressed in an oversized beige t-shirt, eyebrows furrowed head bopping to the hip hop track playing through the speakers. You seemed to be in your own little world. He felt like he was spying on you as he leaned against the door watching but he also liked seeing how you acted when you thought no one was watching. He was about to announce his presence when the track changed to a Childish Gambino one and you whooped and started to rap along.

You were now fully head banging and rapping the verse at the top of your lungs. He would be impressed by your fairly good amateur skills if he didn’t find the entire scene so endearing. His heart was doing somersaults as he watched you now fully engrossed in the song, typing forgotten as you got up and started to pretend you were on stage, an imaginary mic in your hand asking haters if they “eatin’ though”. You looked so adorable that he couldn’t help but squeal a little “cute!”

That’s when you saw him, eyes wide. He felt a little bad when he saw how embarrassed you looked, immediately stopping and slapping a hand to your mouth before bursting out in nervous laughter. He could write a whole album with that laugh. Oh he was so whipped, he thought to himself as he made his way to you.

“You know you’re not half bad!” He exclaimed as he set the pizza on the table, pulling a chair next to yours and settling down.

“Do you think your fake compliments will save you from the fact that you were spying on me?” you asked, crossing your hands across your chest, pretending to scowl but failing to do so.

“First, real compliment. Second, would pizza save me?” He opened the box and proudly smiled, loving the way your eyes lit up as you reached for a slice.

“Yes it will!” you exclaimed as you took your first bite, lightly moaning at the taste. “But erase that memory from your brain please.”

“Nope. Never. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and I’m going to save it forever” he said as he also started on his slice. You pouted up at him, cheeks puffed and it took all the self-control he had to not kiss it off your face. He hadn’t felt this way in so long, it was like you were his first crush. Trying to control his pulse, he asked “What are you working on so late?”

“Oh I have a proposal due for a meeting tomorrow at noon and I’m only halfway through it,” you frowned wistfully at the screen as if willing it to type on its own.

“Can I help?” He asked, knowing fully well that he couldn’t. He just had an overwhelming urge to make that frown disappear.

“You being here is help enough,” you smiled sincerely as you looked at him and he felt his heart explode, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he smiled bashfully. “What are you working on?”

“I have a few songs I have to finish the lyrics for. Been procrastinating” he rubbed the back of his neck as he pulled out the notebook from his back pocket.

“Can I help?” you echoed his question to which he echoed your response grinning. He wasn’t lying though. Even though he had planned to not really work, as the night progressed he found the change from his usual writing spot inspiring. Sitting next to you, the sound of the keyboard clicking was soothing leading to words pouring out of him. He filled pages as he stole glances at you concentrating on your proposal, tongue peeking from between your lips, still bobbing to the music which was now playing from your airpods instead of the speakers. He smiled at the sight, before focusing on his notebook.

After about an hour or so of hard work, he finished three songs that he had allotted himself the whole week to do. This was the most productive hour he had all month. Antsy for a break, he looked over at you and found you staring at him, a hand under your chin. As he met your gaze you smiled.

“You’re really hot when you concentrate. Has anyone ever told you that?” you commented. He was taken aback by your remark, heart fluttering at your smirking face. Not missing his chance and spurred on by the comment, he scooted closer in one sweep till your knees touched and you were face to face.

“You’re one to talk. I couldn’t stop looking at you this past hour.” Gazing into your eyes, he was amused to see your smirk disappear as it was now your turn to be shocked. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear letting his hand linger, enjoying the way you sighed as he did. “Can I make good on my promise now?” He whispered, his face centimeters away, looking at your lips. The way you bit your lower lip made him want to take you there and then. The desk looked big enough. Hell, even if it wasn’t he could make it work.

“Promise?” you whispered as he watched your eyes flutter to his lips.

“To kiss you first…” Too impatient to wait for your answer, he brought his lips to yours, relishing how soft they felt under his own. He was thrilled at you returning the kiss, deepening it as you grabbed the collar of his shirt to bring him closer just like you did after the party. He was beginning to think this was your signature move, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t immensely turn him on. He moved his hand cupping your face to rest on your neck and he could feel your heartbeat mimicking his. He put his other hand around your waist pulling you closer, wanting to be as close to you as he could get. He traced his tongue over your lips, his head cloudy with endorphins as you opened your mouth inviting him in. He had never tasted something so euphoric, his tongue exploring yours in a rush.

He could feel you pushing forward as he leaned back and allowed you to straddle his lap, your legs on either side of the chair. As soon as you were on his lap, he pulled you closer, both arms around on your hips, your chest flushed with his. He kissed the side of your mouth as he made his way down your jaw to your neck. You smelt like vanilla mixed with a fresh flower garden, and he was sure this smell was better than any drug in the world. He could hear your breathy moans as he sucked where your neck met your collarbone, licking to soothe it before moving further. He wanted to taste all of you. Your hands were in his hair and each tug made him groan into you, making him harder. He could kiss you like this forever. He wanted to save this moment so he could come back to it and relive it. He traced his hands up and down your sides, moving under your shirt but remaining on your waist, enjoying the feel of your soft skin.

“Namjoon… Namjoon… slow down” he heard you say breathlessly as he felt a slight push. He looked up at you, your eyes half lidded and lusty as you grabbed his face and brought it to yours. You were sending him mixed signals, but he didn’t care as long as he could keep kissing you.

“We have to slow down or I’m going to want to fuck you right here.” You whined as you both came back up for air, but you kissed him again nevertheless. Hearing you say that made him want to do anything in his power to make that happen.

“I don’t mind, baby,” he said against your lips, kissing you with urgency, biting your lower lip and pulling it gently to elicit another moan from you. To his disappointment, you seemed to have better self-control than him as you pushed him back, both of you panting as you struggled to catch your breath. He moved his hand back to your hips tracing little circles, feeling comforted by you smoothing his hair you had pulled earlier.

“There are cameras here. I’d rather not make a sex tape on our first date.” You giggled as you pointed to the black sphere in the corner of the room. He had never hated the obsession buildings had for security more, but the crudeness of your comment made him laugh. He had almost forgotten this was your first date, it felt like he had kissed you a thousand times before. You tasted like the relief of an awning in the middle of a summer downpour.

“I think we need to cool down,” you say as you climb off of his lap. “Let’s go.”

He followed you as you led him to the little kitchenette near the end of the room, unable to resist the urge to wrap his hands around your waist in a back hug. He knew he was being too clingy for a first date, but the way you giggled and put your hands over his gave him assurance.

“Lemonade, coke, or water,” you asked as you peered into the fridge.

“You.” He smirked kissing your neck, feeling bold off of the high from your makeout session.

“Joon!” you pretended to sound scandalized as you turned in his arms, smiling warmly. The nickname made his heart swell. It added a familiarity that he didn’t know he missed from you.

“You haven’t called me Joon before. I like it” he smiled as he pecked your lips.

“Hey! We are cooling down! No kissing! Now pick” you chided and Namjoon couldn’t help but wonder if you were this assertive in bed too, a million scenarios playing in his head. Okay, you were right, he needed to cool down.

“I’ll just have water, thanks,” he said as he grabbed the bottle you passed him, opening and gulping half of it. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was for something other than you. You both made your way to the tables, sitting across from each other.

“So did you finish your proposal?” He asked trying to cool himself but failing as he noticed you running the cold water bottle against your neck, the beads of condensation dripping on your shirt. He cleared his throat as he tried to focus his attention on your eyes, a mantra of stay focused playing in his head.

“Yes! Finally! It’s perfect.” you smiled proudly and somehow he felt a wave of pride too. “What about you? Made any progress?”

“Actually yes. I kind of finished my entire week’s writing in that one hour” he was still amazed by his own progress.

“Okay, Mr Overachiever” you joked and he chuckled.

“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything, but I don’t know your presence is kind of soothing. It helped me focus.” Watching your smile grow wide, he continued, “I’ve been having pretty severe burnout this past month and it has just been hard to put down my thoughts, even non-lyrical ones.” He fidgeted with the water bottle as he looked at it, avoiding eye contact.

He didn’t know why he was telling you this. He recalled when he told you about his struggles as a leader during your first conversation. Somehow being around you led him to vomit out his feelings. It was… unlike him. Namjoon was usually not this honest on dates, or relationships, as much as he would hate to admit it. That’s the reason he broke off his last one. He felt bad lying to her about a busy schedule when he just wanted to be alone. She would have understood, she was kind and thoughtful, but it just felt easier to lie and not put the effort in to explain his thoughts. Even when they broke up, he lied and told her that it was because he couldn’t handle being in a relationship at the moment, when in reality things had cooled off a while ago and he felt guilty as his feelings faded.

He felt your hand reach out and grab one of his, intertwining your fingers. He felt comforted by the gesture as you rubbed your thumb across him before you spoke two words that warmed his heart. “I understand.”

“You know it’s hard to work at full speed all the time. It’s okay to not be at a hundred all the time. The valleys feed the peaks” you continued. It was a simple remark, but it sounded surprisingly poetic to him. He hadn’t felt this understood outside of the boys for a long time. It was refreshing. It was terrifying. He resisted his natural urge to run and hide.

“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, needing to divert the attention away from his own vulnerabilities.

“Yeah. I had it pretty tough a couple of years ago. Too much pressure from myself, too many expectations. Led to too many vices and panic attacks” you shrugged as you continued and he squeezed your hand to comfort you. “It creeps up from time to time but my therapist and I have it handled” He looked at you in awe. You hadn’t given him a throwaway answer or switched the limelight back at him. You wasted no time in being as vulnerable as him, if not more. He knew at that moment that regardless of where this thing went, he wanted you to know you better.

“Thank you for being honest.” He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently. It was an intimate gesture but he wanted you to know how much he appreciated your words - how much he appreciated you - in that moment. You both sat in comfortable silence for a little while, playing with each other’s hands that were still intertwined, till one of you yawned loudly causing the other to giggle. With the weight of the conversation lifting, you both fell back into playful banter as you decided to pack up and call it a night.

“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Namjoon asked, wanting to drag the night on longer despite it already being almost 2 am.

“Don’t judge me but I actually don’t know how to drive. I was just going to cab back.” he saw you giggle bashfully as you pulled your backpack over your shoulders.

“Oh, no judgment here! Me neither” he laughed. Why does everyone think it is such a big deal to not drive? It’s better for the environment! “Do you want to take one together? I don’t really want you to ride alone this late.” He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping he didn’t come off as if he was trying to dictate what you did.

“I’d really like that,” you said as you walked towards the elevators. He held your hand as you both got on, liking the way you moved closer to him at that.

In the cab you both sat closer than necessary, his arm wrapped around you as you both made plans for your scheduled date later that day, trying not to doze off. When the cab stopped all too soon at your apartment, he kissed you gently as he told you how much he enjoyed your company.

That night laying in bed, his heart felt full as he read your goodnight message. He was sure of it now. He really wanted you in his life.

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dreamyyang · 4 years

Text

summary: you made taeil’s undead heart soar and he was absolutely addicted to the feeling.

pairing(s): yandere!zombie!moon taeil x reader | kim doyoung x reader

warning(s): swearing, obsessive behaviour, mentions of blood, gore (kind of..?), minor character death, cannibalism, non con (taeil forcefully kisses the reader)

word count: 2.6k words

a/n: this is pretty heavy stuff so if any of the aforementioned content triggers you, do not read. please note that I do not condone taeil’s behaviour and that this is purely a work of fiction. my fic is not an accurate representation of taeil’s actual personality.

part of @127-mile’s addiction collab

emotions were as foreign to moon taeil as brains and human flesh once were. while he doesn’t mind either of them, they were just very hard to come by. that changed when he got a job at the qian family’s mortuary, courtesy of qian kun, a mutual friend. johnny had already explained taeil’s special situation to kun, who agreed to give taeil access to the bodies so long as he worked as kun’s assistant. it was an excellent arrangement for both men - taeil could finally eat some proper food while kun finally had help. for obvious reasons, not many people were willing to work at a morgue, especially for such low wages.

taeil managed to ease himself into a routine of work, brains, sleep then repeat. while many people would eventually go insane from being constantly surrounded by cold, still bodies, taeil couldn’t care less. a zombie couldn’t ask for a better arrangement. while he did not experience emotions, he still felt a semblance of peace.

at least, that was before you showed up, completely unannounced. of course, your arrival wasn’t completely random, kun did warn taeil that his cousin was coming home after getting their phd, but you weren’t what taeil expected. he had this mental image of you being stoic and reserved. he thought you’d briefly acknowledge him with a slight nod while visiting your cousin and that would be it. imagine his surprise when he came to work and was greeted by a smile brighter than the sun. you were like the human embodiment of a meadow of flowers in the summer - warm, wonderful and welcoming. hell, you even smelled like flowers.

suddenly, his daily routine was ruined.

most mornings, you would meet him at the mortuary, looking as fresh as a daisy, and hand him an equally fresh box of baked goods from the bakery next to your clinic. if it was a slow morning, and it usually was, you would make small talk with him while kun went over the day’s plans in his office. he began to cherish those morning conversations with you and his undead heart would sink when the clock struck nine and it was time for you to hug him and kun goodbye. from then on, he was usually in a sour mood for the rest of the day, not humouring the silly jokes kun made as they worked. he would get off work with a dull ache in his heart if you weren’t there to pick kun up or offer to take them out for drinks.

this abrupt change frightened taeil more than anything. why was he suddenly experiencing these strange feelings? he hated it. every day, he was going through a rollercoaster of emotions that would be decided by whether or not he saw his boss’ cousin. it was so absurd. in the past five years of him being a zombie, he hadn’t felt such extreme emotions before. they all felt so...so human.

when he consulted johnny about these strange occurrences, his friend began to howl with laughter, “dude, it’s so obvious!”

taeil glared at johnny, “care to explain what exactly is so obvious?”

“you like y/n. why else would you be constantly pining for them?”

taeil scoffed. johnny must have smoked something because there was no way he liked you. at best, he had known you for three months and it isn’t like you regularly spent time together. plus, you were related to his boss. johnny had no idea what he was talking about, he was full of shit.

“that’s bullshit. I don’t buy it,” taeil shook his head, leaning back in his chair.

“no I swear, it’s true! we drove past this factory and they were just beheading these chickens out in the open,” you sighed. “anyway, the sight was so sickening, I’ve never looked at meat the same way since.”

“yet you decided to be a thoracic surgeon.”

you shrugged, “yeah but operating on people and eating meat are two different things. I don’t mind looking at flesh and blood but the thought of eating any makes me sick.”

taeil silently thanked you as you made that statement. ever since johnny had suggested that taeil liked you, he’d been searching for reasons not to like you. and of course, there’s no way he could like you if you were a vegetarian. you would be absolutely disgusted if you knew what his main diet consisted of. yet, every now and then, he felt his mind drifting away to a different mental list - a list of the things he liked about you.

he liked how you would come up with the most absurd conversation starters, just to make him crack a smile. he liked how your hugs were warm and comfortable. he was even beginning to like the fuzzy feeling that would envelop his heart whenever he was around you. you made him giddy and lovesick and eventually, he didn’t mind anymore. being around you all the time forced him to accept that he had very strong feelings for you. in fact, he was certain that even as a human, he had never had feelings this intense. there was just something special about you that had him feeling some sort of way. normally, he would have been afraid of how you controlled your heart but now? he was in too deep to care.

he decided it was better for him to just accept the fact that he loved you. why try to fight it? it was highly unlikely that he would feel this way about anyone ever again. he had to hold onto you, he would be insane to let you go.

finally, he plucked up the courage to confess to you. he was falling for you more and more every single day, and not being with you was slowly killing him. he decided to surprise you at the clinic where you worked with a bouquet of your favourite flowers. he planned to treat you to lunch at a romantic café then confess to you while walking you back to the clinic. he had rehearsed the little speech he wanted to give over twenty times with johnny, who repeatedly assured him that everything would go well.

it did not go well.

taeil was greeted by a unpleasant surprise when he reached the entrance of the clinic. there you stood, his beloved y/n, in another man’s arms. taeil watched, horrified, as the man placed a soft kiss on your lips. you looked so happy with him and it broke taeil’s heart. he felt awful as he watched you smile at the man. that same wonderful smile that he wished was for his eyes only. it felt like a cruel joke to have your laughter fill his ears as tears pricked his eyes. taeil was glad that nobody was paying attention to him as hot tears stained his cheeks. he couldn’t have gotten away sooner, pushing past the people on the street to go home.

he quickly texted an excuse to kun about how he felt sick and would be gone for the rest of the day. it wasn’t exactly a lie - he did feel sick and every time he thought about you and the stranger, it only got worse. he ripped up the bouquet and the plastic that had been wrapped around their stems, screaming as he did it. pain bled into fury as he destroyed the beautiful flowers. he was unbelievably angry and wouldn’t stop until every last petal had been snatched from the base and scattered on the floor. he was blinded by rage as he made a mess of his apartment floor. finally, the bouquet had been completely ripped apart and tears cleared taeil’s vision.

he dropped to the floor, feeling miserable as he stared at the mess, tears streaking down his face. he loved you so much, but someone had stolen you away. how dare that asshole? you were supposed to be taeil’s, how could he just come between the two of you like that? how incredibly selfish of him. taeil had to get rid of him, as soon as possible. the more time you spend with that jerk, the more he’ll ruin you. taeil scowled at the memory of the two of you kissing. he will pay.

it was decided. taeil was going to make you his, one way or another. whether you liked it or not.

“I hate this, taeil.”

taeil nodded, feigning sympathy as you pouted and continued to complain, “doyoung’s been so busy the past week that he hasn’t been able to call me even once. he just sends brief texts… I really miss him.”

“that sucks, y/n, but you know, it’s a very demanding job.”

“yeah I know…but would it kill him to at least call to say good night?” you sighed, sipping your tea. “whatever. thank you so much for listening to my rant, taeil, I really appreciate it. you’re an awesome friend.”

the word stung, but taeil tried not to show it as he smiled and promised you that he didn’t mind. which was half true. taeil could never get tired of listening to you talk about any topic but one - kim doyoung, your boyfriend. it didn’t really matter, though. soon, taeil would make sure that you would forget all about that piece of shit. soon, moon taeil would be the only thing on your mind, just like how you were the only thing on his min

but first he had to punish you. you deserved it. if you hadn’t gone and dated another man, he wouldn’t have considered such a thing. you needed to be disciplined. you belonged to taeil and he was going to make sure that you remembered that fact. so he sat there in front of you, politely nodding as you vented about your boyfriend, and tried to think of a suitable punishment.

“I know I’m complaining about him a lot, but I really like doyoung,” you laughed. “even though he took me to a barbecue place for our first date.”

that’s when a lightbulb went off in taeil’s brain.

for someone who couldn’t survive without eating brains, taeil sure was an idiot. somehow, he’d gotten roped into a dinner date with you, doyoung and doyoung’s sister, jisoo. at least he managed to convince you to let him host the dinner at his apartment, insisting that he wanted to make a good first impression on jisoo. you’d wiggled your eyebrows and teased him about it but he knew, deep down, setting him up with someone else was hurting you. but you wouldn’t have to worry about hiding your feelings for much longer - taeil would soon relieve you of your misery. ideally of course, he wouldn’t want to start off your relationship with a double date with other people. not to mention your little punishment, but hey, all relationships have their ups and downs.

now if he could just get that pesky little jisoo out of the way.

after briefly stalking doyoung’s instagram account, taeil managed to find jisoo’s account and figured out where she worked. getting her to stay away was easier than he thought it would be. all he had to do was press a small knife against her neck and she was begging for him to leave her alone. he left her trembling in the alley behind her office, with her tears stinging the small cut that ran down the side of her cheek. he wasn’t worried about her telling her brother since that’s who he’d be visiting next.

he had to say, out of all the humans he’d made dishes out of, doyoung was certainly the best. probably because his meat was actually fresh, but you really seemed to enjoy him as well.

“god taeil, your spaghetti is wonderful. I can’t believe doyoung and jisoo are missing out,” you nearly moaned as you devoured your dinner. “these are the best vegan meatballs I’ve ever had. seriously, how’d you make this?”

taeil shrugged, “I used a pretty basic recipe, although I did use something extra special for those meatballs.”

“would you mind sharing what that special thing is, master moon?”

taeil’s smile dropped, his expression completely serious now. you didn’t think much of it, taeil was probably just being dramatic. however his tone as he spoke his next sentence sent a chill down your spine.

“enough dilly-dallying. tell me, sweetheart, did you really think you could get away with dating another man?”

you were too stunned to speak, what the fuck did he just say?

“woah, don’t get shy now. did you seriously think you could go be someone else's whore and I wouldn’t get mad?”

“taeil, what on earth are you talking about?”

you looked like a scared and helpless little rabbit and taeil would be lying if he said that didn’t make him feel some type of way. taeil’s predatory gaze burned into your eyes, ensnaring you and refusing to let go. you were confused. why was taeil behaving like this? why was he so angry with you? but you were certain about one thing: tonight was not going to end well for you.

with a gentle voice, you tried to calm him down so the two of you could have a rational conversation but taeil wasn’t having any of it. he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you up to your feet, stepping away from the dining table and pulling you close till your chest brushed against his. suddenly, his steely gaze slightly softened.

“y/n, my love, I hope you know that I didn’t want to do this to you, but you left me no choice. you forced my hand.”

tears were beginning to well up in your eyes. taeil was getting frustrated. you knew exactly what he was talking about yet you were acting as though taeil was speaking in cryptic messages. taeil noticed your tears and tsked, cupping your cheeks. there was no point in you crying now. the deed was done. taeil was hoping you’d learnt your lesson so the two of you could move past this.

“don’t cry, sweetheart. at least, not until you know what I did.”

“but taeil, I don’t even know what I’ve done,” you sniffed lightly.

“darling, I love you. and I know you love me too, you don’t need to say it. but why did you have to go and date doyoung? do you know how much that hurt me?”

you shook your head, “taeil, I really didn’t know how you felt. but I’m sorry, I don’t feel the same way.”

taeil glared and tightened his grip on your jaw, “fucking lies! that dickhead doyoung has brainwashed you. oh my precious y/n, I feel so awful for punishing you the way I did, but how else will I fix you?”

“what do you mean?” you asked, afraid of the answer he was going to give you.

“those vegan meatballs, darling. although I suppose the term ‘doyoung meatballs’ would be more accurate.”

your beautiful features were twisted into a look of pure horror as realisation dawned upon you. taeil couldn’t help but let his lips form a maniacal grin. he was rather proud, even if he did say so himself. doyoung would never be a problem ever again. nor would anyone else be, for that matter. taeil knew that you were his good, obedient little y/n. you wouldn’t dare to hurt him ever again. satisfied, he leaned in and forced you into a kiss. you were too shocked to fight back.

as he pulled away, he pushed the hair out of your face.

“remember to behave yourself, darling.”

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