#theres a specific person i had in mind for him to be on the phone with but ill leave it ambiguous for now

[zombiewilder]

taking a break from dc stuff to post another yukimitsu (with the proper signature!)

[ipegchangbin]

— smudgeproof

sub!model!felix x dom!makeup artist!reader

There’s a new lipstick that claims to be make-out-proof. You, with your makeup expertise, naturally decide to test it on your model boyfriend, Felix: except he’s the one that gets to wear it. 

🏷 gender neutral afab reader (they/them pronouns, no specifics), smut, fluff, some humor, established relationship, porn with barely any plot. 

🏷 petnames “mommy” and “baby girl,” unprotected sex, feminization kink, slight oral and hand fixation, marking, butt plug (felix using), thigh riding, fingering (felix receiving), overstimulation, male squirting, lots of teasing, voyeurism mention, no specifics about y/n’s physique. 

w/c: 8.8k

a/n: happy (hopefully not late) valentine’s day! to celebrate, i finally present to you the long overdue felix-gets-fucked fic! based on my thought piece, this concept has been on my mind ever since. i kept rewriting this fic but i drew the header art so fast LMAO icb i finished it!! otherwise, enjoy!

18+ only. minors do not interact.

On slow days, you would often find yourself bored in the makeup store. Your boyfriend, Lee Felix, would probably be just as bored, sitting in the chair of his set. Your notifications were as empty as the barren shop.

After two aimless scrolls down your Instagram feed, you realized that you hadn’t posted anything recently and hadn’t texted Felix that day.

The afternoon sun brought in waves of humid air throughout the city, setting everyone back from a trip around the shops. You peered over at the conversation with your boyfriend as you thought about ways to kill time.

It wasn’t uncommon to go for a while without contacting each other. It had been years since you two became official, after all, and comfortable silence had become a given that you both simply indulged in. That didn’t take your mind off of the boredom, though, and your fingers itched to do something. They found Felix’s contact on your phone, bedazzled with an embarrassing nickname and profile picture. 

It stung to think that if you weren’t looking at his endearing profile, you would instead settle for some sort of creeping guilt of not posting anything on your social media page after a while. Either way, you shot him a message.

you: lix, wya? you: im bored as hell

Considering Felix’s work as a professional model, he would probably reply in less than ten minutes. You thought to turn your phone off and play with the freshly-cleaned makeup brushes on the makeup store’s vanity counter while waiting.

But this is Lee Felix, the sunshine of your days, and you didn’t have to wait any longer than two seconds.

lixie: Am at the shoot I told u about lixie: Bored too tbh LOL

Even if he typed in a silly way, you couldn’t help but love him.

He’d always been your go-to person to unwind and be yourself around. Starting as best friends gave you both a jumpstart to be comfortable around the other. People would say it worked a little too well especially since you two had become the most seriously unserious couple in the creative industry.

That fact made him understand you more than anyone else: you were both creatives. Your heart belonged to the artistic liberties of makeup and beauty, while his heart belonged to the ethereal realm of modeling and fashion. Your two hearts found each other, which was almost perfect for the adjacent businesses. He collaborated with you on makeup challenges. You came to his sets as his “preferred makeup artist.” He understood you whenever you ranted about stupid trends and declining engagement in your channels.

With that, could tell him about your uneventful day and equally uneventful social media pages, but you refrained from complaining more than dropping a passing mention.

you: idrk what to do there are no customers you: and i havent posted anything new you: but its not like theres much to do lixie: Well you’re the genius one here! lixie: Got art block or something?

The prompt response caught you off guard. Almost as if you have forgotten, this was Felix, and he always sensed whenever something was wrong.

As if he had some sort of radar or emotion detector, he always just knew how you were. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he had always been in the proximity of your face, observing your concentration as you put eyeliner on him before shooting. Maybe that connection stuck with him after years of being together, and it had remained strong to the point that he could feel it from miles away, staring emptily into the face of some other random MUA. 

Alas, you found yourself overthinking again. You would rather overthink about your relationship than your semi-abandoned creative efforts, though.

you: well i guess you can call it that. im just conscious since i havent really posted you: idk what to do next. ive done everything lixie: How about, “Boyfriend does my makeup drunk edition”? :D you: boring ! lixie: “Makeup tut but bf does my voiceover”? :D you: just because it got views doesnt mean its worth doing a fifth time >:(( lixie: I’m kidding LOL 

The scowl on your face reflected on the mirror sitting in front of you. You knew that if only Felix saw it right now, he would have lost his mind trying to turn it upside down.

You were right though. You two did everything.

My boyfriend does my makeup? Done, and he did an okay job at it. “The boy beat” makeup tutorial featuring Felix? Damn right he did. Boyfriend does my voiceover? It was so good that you guys did it four times and everyone fell in love with the deep timbre of his voice contrasted with his surprising amount of knowledge. Even if it was easy to collaborate with him, it was hard to create something new and unique. On the contrary, your audience fell in love with you two. It’s nice to watch a model and a stylist practice their art together.

Lost for ideas, you decided just to tease him instead.

lixie: So? No ideas in that pretty head? you: i got one thing in mind lixie: And what might that be? you: having you here you: in my arms you: to kiss up and call pretty :>

It was a thing that you usually did since you loved how he always reacted so pricelessly. He didn’t disappoint with his response, the notifications popping up not even half a minute after your last message.

lixie: HNDNSABNNDJS lixie: Don’t tease me unprompted!! lixie: ;__;

You’re so grateful that he’s always up to play with you.

You thought deeply — too deeply for a situation like this — and scanned the store shelves and storage room for ideas.

You wondered what he would be up to right now.

Felix was stunned.

Done-up in the most expensive face and hairstyle he’s rocked to date, adorned with an unbuttoned suit jacket that one could only dream to wear, he was supposed to look like the stunner. His pecs were only barely hidden and the midsection of his upper body was almost entirely exposed.

Instead, he was the speechless one. He wasn’t shocked by the cold air seeping through his revealing outfit, but his hair raised at your messages.

Your teasing usually should not affect him this much, but today, it was something different. The whole day, all he could think about was you. His mind went to your first meeting. Earlier, he got deja vu as one of the stylists applied lipstick on him. It felt familiar, the feeling of a senior stylist’s hand resting on his face as a brush glided along the perimeter of his mouth. All it lacked was the stunning view of your face in particular. It reminded him of the first time you ever laid eyes on him, and it was to check on his eyeshadow. You stared at each other for too long, exchanged numbers after the shoot, and the rest was history.

He was pissed, to say the least, that you weren’t the assigned stylist for the shoot this time. Nothing could ever compare to the focused look you gave him as you fixed the corners of his mouth with the smooth swipe of your pinky finger.

He craved that touch again.

“Yo,” a dragged-out sigh whisked through the air. “You’ll catch a fly in your mouth if you keep that jaw open.”

Felix looked up from his phone to find Hyunjin, his best friend and one of the junior photographers on set, eyeing his reflection in the mirror. He had his bleached blond hair half-up, tied messily to complete his so-called “intern look.” Most of the senior directors and photographers on set confused him for a model.

“Am I interrupting some kinda internal monologue sesh?” Hyunjin smiled, leaning behind Felix’s chair, raising a brow at him through the reflection. 

“No, I just��”

“He’s thinking about Y/N again.” Jeongin, their other best friend, popped from behind the vanity, carrying Hyunjin’s abandoned camera. 

The two were interns at the studio. Both were very bored art students looking for a job to pass the time by. Jeongin was there to work as a personal assistant and was mistaken for a stylist considering his fashion sense. His behavior around set proved otherwise, though, since he spent the entire day prodding at everyone’s business.

Felix was no exception as a victim.

“Imagine flirting online,” Hyunjin chuckled while reaching for the camera. Jeongin handed it out to him, only to swing his arm back, teasing the older.

Jeongin dismissed the frown on Hyunjin’s face and fiddled with the camera. “Yeah, cut your significant other some slack, they must be busy at the store or something,” he added.

“Nah, they aren’t.”

Hyunjin snagged the camera back. “Editing a Youtube video?”

“That’s exactly why they messaged me. They asked for ideas for a new video.” Felix sat back and redirected his eyes back to the conversation on his phone. The other two slowly turned their heads to each other.

“Wow! Did you hear that, Innie? They messaged him!” Hyunjin yelped.

“Lix didn’t message first? Unheard of!” Jeongin gasped.

“Cut it out, overdramatic cunts.” The accent made the last word roll off Felix’s tongue in a heavy and aggressive accent. “I want to help them this once. Shoo. Leave me be.”

“Oh, why are you getting all worked up, man?” The younger placed his hands on Felix’s shoulders and wiggled them.

Actually — why was he getting all worked up? Everything seemed off: he wasn’t the type to get annoyed easily like that.

He would have defended himself, but he thought it over. Not only had he been unusually sentimental while getting ready, but even as the day started, he was already rolling off to a rough start. He barely got out of bed, reaching out to you from the side and asking for longer morning cuddles specifically from you. He had been so clingy all day that the silence and afternoon heat killed him from looking forward to anything else but you.

A discussion brewed between the menaces as Felix thought about it. “Innie, you know, he couldn’t even hit the poses right. The director felt bad because our bro didn’t seem into it.”

Felix’s cheeks flushed upon hearing that. “No way, Hyune,” the other replied.

Oh god, Felix thought.

He swatted embarrassing thoughts away from his head to not get teased any further by his own friends. His thoughts — and something else — were hindering him from doing anything physically. The poor boy couldn’t even shift in his seat from embarrassment. It’s not that he didn’t want to physically fidget, he just couldn’t. His entire body froze, but he also just could not move by any means. It would be uncomfortable for him, and it wasn’t just because the clothes restricted him.

Something underneath his clothes would shift too and pierce his body with shockwaves. Before that could, though, his phone vibrated before he did.

you: babe! you: had a breakthrough so big i said eureka out loud in the store [you sent a photo]

Felix immediately opened the notifications and observed the sent messages. He opened the photo even before it loaded. When it did, he nearly melted in his seat.

You supposedly sent him a picture of a product that you found. By the looks of it, you probably thought of doing a product review of it, but that wasn’t the first impression he got from the picture. The first thing he saw was your face, winking with a toothy grin, your beautiful hand holding the product up next to your cheek.

God, you were all sorts of stunning to him.

lixie: OMHJYGOD YOUre so pretty you: dont look at me, silly! you: look at this lipstick. its so funny

For a moment, he didn’t listen. His eyes were still fixated on everything from your expression, to your features, to the nails that you just got done holding up the product. As if he had gone stupid, he had to blink and shake his head before formulating a reply that made sense.

lixie: LMFAOOOO THE NAME you: its not the name baby lixie: WHAT SHADE COLOR IS THAT LMAOOO  you: the shade looks fine, look at the label! lixie: What’s it say you: the label claims its make-out proof lixie: ??!!! LOL

Of course, he didn’t make any sort of sense whatsoever. His two friends watched him frantically type away, barely being able to process anything from the mere sight of you.

“Bro’s deluded,” Jeongin whispered.

“Bro’s fucking horny,” Hyunjin commented, squinting at his friend.

you: you sound so funny baby you: anyway i was thinking i should review it you: but can you join me? i wanna try something

It felt like something broke inside of him. A shot of excitement ran through his system, hitting down until his core — oh shit that hurt.

He tried to twist his lower half again, fidgeting in his seat, but it grew harder for him to do so. With tears in his eyes, he jolted up, attempting to focus on the conversation.

lixie: Sure, what do you want me to do? lixie: Won’t you just do an application and wear test thing? you: mmm i guess u can say that you: but im making it a lil different lixie: How so?

The intrigue bit his tongue and Felix attempted to swallow it. The staff around him were wrapping up the shoot, pushing equipment back in their places, and some started to leave as soon as the director announced the last “cut.” He, however, was glued to the vanity chair, shaking in anticipation.

you: im gonna put it on you baby <3

Felix’s eyes widened.

It didn’t matter how many times you placed makeup on him, nor did it matter how many times he joined you in your antics. There were too many things going on in his head that toyed with his thought process and everything that came with it. He didn’t exactly know why, but a knot formed in his stomach. He grew nervous and just knew that you were up to something sinister.

lixie: But how are we gonna do the wear test? I already got my face done and half the day has passed, I’m even done w my part of the shoot you: you dont get it ??? lixie: I don’t get it!! you: ill put it on you when you get here. and were not just testing how long it wears regularly, were testing what the label says you: ill be there in 10mins love you baby

He sat back, looked up from his phone, and his gaze zeroed in on his reflection, attempting to focus on the thought. How would you conduct a different kind of wear test? In terms of makeup, a wear test would simply be to spend a full day with the product on and to see if it still holds its place at the end of it. It had already been well past afternoon by that time and it wasn’t like there were many other things to do that could budge the lipstick aside from dinner. He always trusted your genius, but he knew that there was more to this.

Felix blinked, once, twice, and then stared.

Were you…going to test if it was really make-out proof?

The world around him seemed to dim — it did, since the studio lights were turning off and the senior stylists urged Jeongin to wake the model up from his short-circuiting brain to change out of the clothes.

That is if Felix could still respond before the horniness consumed him.

lixie: Wait lixie: Don’t tell me lixie: DON’T TELL ME lixie: You’ll test it by putting it on me lixie: AND THEN MAKE OUT WITH ME?????? [Read 2:50 PM] lixie: Y/N!!! Answer me!!! [Delivered, unread 2:51 PM]

The cogs in his head accelerated before banging to a full stop, clinks and clanks ringing through his ears at his very slow realization.

“Congrats, smartypants, you figured it out.” Hyunjin scoffed from behind him.

“Dude—wait, hey! Have you been watching me the whole time?!”

“You should be more secretive,” Jeongin giggled. “Get those privacy screen protectors or something. Now we know what poor Y/N has to deal with every day.”

“And stop getting your thoughts tangled in horny next time you text,” Hyunjin elbowed the poor model boy, fiddling with his camera as if nothing happened. “Don’t worry. Your secrets and online PDA are safe with us.” 

Felix’s face was washed without color. His jaw hung open both at his friends’ antics and your devilish plans.

“I’m looking forward to that review,” Jeongin added before walking away, teasingly pushing Felix’s shoulder on the way out. “Not that I’ll use it or anything.”

The two friends left the set side-eyeing and giggling at Felix.

—

It wasn’t long before you pulled up to the studio to pick your boyfriend up.

“Hi, darling.” Felix’s greeting and nervous smile lit up the quiet air and darkness of your car. He got in the passenger seat and immediately leaned in to kiss your cheek.

He was trembling. 

You had to laugh. “Hey, babe. What’s got you shaken up?”

“Long day.”

“That’s it?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Long because of you,” he said, scrunching his nose. “Kept teasing me.”

“Aw, don’t sulk, silly.” You cooed at him, “Save the pout for later, baby. We’re going home.”

Maybe it was the combination of inhaling your expensive signature scent and hearing the sound of your voice again that made him tingle all over. Maybe it had to do with the curling corners of your mouth that gave Felix all the information he needed in the world. Maybe it was the fact that you held the back of his seat as the car reversed, and the action looked undeniably sexy. 

Felix lifted a leg to cross over the other, but it only ever made him look more uncomfortable throughout the entire car ride home. Though concerned, you didn’t point it out, and instead continued to drive.

His chest was heaving and he internally scolded himself for acting like a bitch in heat.

The both of you arrived home sooner than expected.

The tunes that you played earlier in the car ride home stuck in Felix’s head. He wondered if the song choice of a sultry voice singing about “wants and needs” was deliberate. It was your playlist, and if you intended to include subliminal messaging, then it worked like a charm on him.

He had been worked out to the point he couldn’t face you. The moment he laid eyes on you again in your apartment’s living room, he shied away almost immediately.

You caught his averting gaze, though, and disallowed him from living it down. “Is there something on my face, baby?”

Baby. He could spend a lifetime just listening to you calling him that name. The way it sounded so natural coming from you made him melt. 

He also could not stop staring at your lips. You always wore a certain gloss no matter the occasion. Even if it was your signature, Felix couldn’t help but stare, and it didn’t make his situation any better. In fact, it got worse, and it felt like the straining in his pants could explode.

“Mm, ‘s nothing, Y/N.”

“You sure?” You prodded. “Your friends kept waving at me and they looked back at you earlier.”

“Ah, please don’t mind them.” He scoffed. “They were being cheeky cunts.”

“That’s a funny way to put it.”

“Anyway, how are we gonna do th-the…uh, the thing…?” Felix stammered, playing with his fingers instead of looking you in the eye.

“Oh, glad you mentioned it!” You hurriedly grabbed the three tiny boxes in your bag. “I got a bit excited over it. Look at this!”

There was nothing too remarkable about the boxes. They looked like basic products, but the huge bolded font on the product labels caught his eye. “It’s more of a stain or something. The label says it can survive five consecutive make-out sessions before a singular budge.”

“It’s…interesting, yeah.” Felix blinked. You chuckled, nodding at his reasonable reaction. “So…y-you’ll put that on me.”

“Yep.”

“And then we kiss.”

“Make-out,” you corrected. Your voice was clear and slightly stern, but the smile that formed on your face sent him in shivers.

The familiarity in your features contrasted with whatever stunts you were going to pull on him sent his head into a haze.

“Anything wrong with it?”

“No,” he shook his head.

“Lix, baby, just be clear with me.” You inched closer to him, bringing your hands to his plump freckle-spotted cheeks. “You don’t mind that I’ll record this and post it?”

“Of course, I don’t mind. I just…” Felix sighed.

“…Just curious, what are you planning to show in the video?”

“I’m gonna show the application, I’ll start by putting it on you.”

The heat rushed to Felix’s face as numerous thoughts clouded his mind as he visualized everything in his mind.

“We’re gonna kiss for a brief moment in the video, probably make out and do…whatever,” you winked shyly. “It’s only gonna be brief. Gotta keep it within community guidelines.”

One of your hands made its way down to his hip. You pulled him closer. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat from gulping back an otherwise embarrassing sound.

You had to wonder if he was hiding anything causing him discomfort there.

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

Felix bit his lip. “A hundred percent sure.”

“If you don’t want—”

“I want…it,” he whispered under his breath. “I want you.”

He flashed a weak smile. He was incredibly excited, but he was losing composure and he didn’t exactly know why.

He was about to melt in your hands but you held him up and adjusted your set-up for the video with an equally beautiful smile.

—

Three, two, one, action.

The camera rolled and you felt the familiar rush of adrenaline surge through you. Impressively, you thought you would have lost your spark at content creation, but posing in front of the ring light felt refreshing.

“It’s been a long time coming y’all,” you waved, “but I’m back! And guess who I’m with!”

Felix stared at the camera for a moment, his eyes flicking back to you for a split second. It was his cue to wave as well.

“Ah, hi, everyone!”

“Still handsome and meek as always,” you teased. “He still has a bit of makeup on since he came from a shoot.”

Your hand ran down the side of his neck. You felt the goosebumps rise from his skin.

“Anyway, today I’ll be starting a series of videos covering weird products and their weird claims. We’re starting strong with this funky new liquid lipstick from…B.Me Cosmetics.”

Taking the tube out of its package, you examined it and showed it to the phone camera. You swatched a shade on the back of your hand. Differing from a bullet lip, it had a liquid formula that boasted a unique, pseudo-gloss satin finish. 

“It claims to be smudge-proof, make-out-proof, everything-proof. Can last five rounds of kissin’ and smoochin’ I assume.” You said many things that Felix didn’t even dare to process.

Felix simply watched your hands delicately hold the product. His gaze was fixated on your nails, fingers, and everything about you that wasn’t the lipstick.

“But oh no no, I’m not testing it on myself. Well, kinda, but Lixie over here is gonna be my test subject.” You swung an arm over Felix, dragging him down to the height of the phone, showing everyone his nervous yet precious face. He eyed up at you with what seemed to be hearts in his pupils.

“Let’s first see how this goes on, hmm?”

You walked a bit away to grab two chairs: one was velvety and comfortable, while the other was taller and had regular cushions. The first was the same chair your clients usually sat on, and the second was your working chair. You urged him to sit down, patting the seat as a signal.

The moment he sat down, Felix started trembling. His knees looked like they were about to give in and his thighs took a moment to settle onto the velvet.

“Everything alright?” You whispered.

He wordlessly nodded back at you. Unknown to you, though, he bit back a noise. He didn’t mind the sharp pulsing pain when he finally got the courage to look up fully, of course with the guidance of your thumb and index finger propping up his chin.

It felt like handling a little kitten in your hands.

“Which shade, which shade…” You took the other bottles out of the bold box packaging and waved them out in front of Felix’s lips. It either would have been a rosy nude color, a deep red, or a bright cherry pinkish-red.

You tapped the tube of the last color against your boyfriend’s bottom lip, watching his cheeks pout slightly at the action. You quietly settled on the cherry color, to Felix’s apparent delight.

“Would you look at that?” You cupped his face with one hand, holding the lipstick on your free one. You faced him towards the camera, relishing in the sight of his cheeks puffing up in your palm. “Call me biased or whatever, but his lips are some of the prettiest I’d ever seen.”

Before he could indulge in the praise though, you urged him to open his mouth. He didn’t prepare for any of this and not your next course of action.

You slotted the bottle in between Felix’s teeth and kept it in place even after unscrewing the applicator off. He bit slightly and carefully to keep the bottle in place without damaging it. If he were a nervous wreck then, he became overly anxious now. You, however, in full focus, took the applicator of the liquid lipstick and slid it along his top lip. The cold sensation of the new foreign product on his mouth made him squirm slightly, though you held him firmly in place with your hand.

“So fitting that his lips are shaped like a heart. He’s so kissable.” You smooched the air while cleaning up the perimeter of his lips, teasing him.

Wished I kissed you right now, huh? Felix could hear that in your voice and he let it echo in his pretty little head. Alas, he couldn’t retaliate nor speak back at all. He couldn’t even dip his head in embarrassment. Your eyes were trained on the brush you flicked, almost dismissive of your own flirting and it mismatched the smirk that adorned your mouth after teasing.

It was the exact kind of look he’s seen many times before. The exact look he fell in love with when you first met.

It’s the look he would get off to almost every night.

You finished off applying the lipstick and it was impressively smooth. You took the bottle from his teeth and sighed. The color made his mouth look irresistibly edible. It would take you three marathons and a trip to the moon to admit that you were starting to feel just as affected as Felix by the sight of his pouty mouth.

“Rub those pretty lips for me, baby.”

Only you could say those words to him the way that you do. Felix felt multiple urges rummaging through his system at once. He could almost cry from wanting to say something, to call out your name, to moan it, to whine and whimper, and melt in your arms as if nobody were watching. 

The eyes of the world were on him, though, and all he could do was comply. He rubbed his lips together and pouted them out with a smack.

“Good job, baby.” You rubbed his chin with your thumb. He felt fire surging within his heart.

He knew that you knew what you were doing. It was only you, after all, who knew how to push his buttons in the right places. Unlike Hyunjin nor Jeongin, it took you no effort and no risks to leave him a mentally jumbled mess; not agitated, but certainly needy.

You were still sticking to a mental script, though. “How does it feel? Chalky? Rough? Sticky…?”

“I-It’s smooth. Feels thin.” He felt his tongue almost twist in his mouth from trying to speak when he was physically weakening over you.

“Seems like a good formula,” you giggled.

He watched as you turned your back on him, explaining bits of beauty jargon that he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. His vision seemed to blur as a need to satisfy the growing discomfort in his pants overwhelmed him. It all snapped away for a second when you switched the angle of your phone and pulled him up by his arms, leading him in front of the couch.

All of a sudden, you rubbed a circle around the base of his wrist. You looked up at him with eyes that demanded something from him. It was dark yet inviting as if he had just eyed down a wolf threatening to eat him whole.

The gesture was your signal that you wanted to fuck him then and there.

Felix finally didn’t have to keep to himself.

“Time to test how good it wears,” you smirked at him.

Felix’s eyes were focused on yours. He didn’t move an inch as your fingers crawled from his jaw to his cheek. You glanced at your phone, propped up on the countertop, to check if it was recording. When you looked back, your eyes met Felix’s red lips.

You were so glad that you picked that shade. The makeup line released a ton of colors and your mind folded into itself when you realized how many there were. It was almost overwhelming to choose a shade for your boyfriend: you wanted to see him with a pinky nude on his lips, but you also thought the dark berry shade looked pretty.

As a trained makeup artist, you had a knack for figuring out which hues elevated which skin tones. Of all people, you knew Felix’s skin would match the slightly muted, pinkish cherry satin stain.

You should know this. You’ve seen his skin flush many times before, that would be more than enough to be familiar with the hues of his delicious skin.

You were the reason why he would constantly blush, after all. His skin would burn under your slightest touch, but it would flare up until his freckles darkened each time you held him down on your hips and called him pretty. His cheeks would turn as red as the tip of his cock every time you squeezed it lightly. 

Before you could think of any more, you tapped your boyfriend’s cheek. His face burned into a shade not far from the color of his lipstick.

“Are you sure you want to record this with me?” You asked, eyes scanning his face for second thoughts.

Felix almost forgot that you needed a clip of the both of you briefly kissing. He nodded after a second, confusion snapping into realization as you smiled at him. He seemed to be lost in thought, too: maybe he was nervous, maybe he was thinking of the same things you thought about. Either way, he simply answered with a smirk and the faintest giggle.

“Yeah. I’m game.”

You were on a mission to prove that this lip product could not budge after an intense make-out session. Now, you — and maybe Felix — wanted to see if it could survive intense sex, too.

All it took were two inches forward: you grabbed his hands dangling in front of you and closed in. Your noses touched each other, the skin bumping softly before your lips slotted against his in the smoothest kiss possible. To his surprise, you started gently. He expected you to crash against his mouth. He expected you to rummage through the product sitting on his mouth right away, to test its strength as a long-lasting piece of makeup, but you didn’t.

Maybe he wanted you to be rough. He wanted it.

You could tell by the whimper he choked up behind the kiss. That, and his hands roamed around your arms and sides, pulling you closer.

“Getting a little excited now, are we?” You purred, pulling your face away from his. He hesitated to break the kiss, inching his lips closer to yours even as you talked.

“Sorry, s-sorry. Got a little carried away.”

You wondered what got him to be so clingy and affectionate. You’re well aware of him being loving and tender, but it’s another thing to have him smitten while you’re doing nothing special.

Little did you know that to him, everything involving you is special. Even the texts you sent earlier and the ones you sent before. He couldn’t stop thinking about them; who wouldn’t, especially when you were being such a tease?

He finally pulled his head back. “Smooth,” he whispered.

You thought to tease him. “The lipstick?” 

“No,” Felix chuckled, “I meant you.”

Your hands traveled from up to his toned arms until one of them met the nape of his neck — his sensitive spot. You often called him a little kitten for enjoying being petted on that spot a little too much.

“So, did it rub off yet?” Your boyfriend managed to squeak, still affected by your antics.

His face was impossibly close to yours and you could feel the heat in his cheeks growing the more that he smiled at you. You stepped back to observe his face: apart from the blush on his cheeks, the lipstick was seemingly left unscathed. By the look on his face, he observed your lips, and there were no signs of product transferring. 

He also just wanted to kiss it again.

You raised an eyebrow at the camera and shrugged. “I guess it survived round one.”

“That was round one?” Felix mirrored the look you gave your phone. “I thought we call that first base.”

Your head whipped back to him. He simply smirked back, feigning an angel’s smile.

You’ve dated him for a long while, and while he had always been silly, he had never been this way in front of the camera. You wondered if the shoot he did — or the staff he was with — earlier had anything to do with a sudden ego boost.

“Now you’re bold, baby.”

The nickname caused Felix’s smirking eyes into wide ones, the excitement writing itself everywhere on his face.

“Just wanna do more with you,” he teased back. “Do more rounds, test how much removes.”

He puckered his lips and pouted. It was a juicy invitation that you couldn’t turn down. Instead, you took it with a kiss — a deep kiss, one that made you inhale and caught him off guard.

It was still gentle and velvety. It felt like you both tasted clouds and nothing was in between. The hand on the nape of his neck ran up to his hair and back down almost instinctively, making Felix shake. Unable to focus on both the sensation of a passionate kiss, an overwhelming urge to breathe and process the suddenness, and the general feeling of being petted, his hands swung to your chest and squeezed.

“Ah! Felix!” You whispered loudly against his mouth, almost moaning at the sensation.

“Sorry! Force of habit,” he said.

“Gotta keep it PG, baby, I’m posting this.” He nodded assuringly at your words but his hands were crucially still on your chest, threatening to squeeze again.

After realizing this, he immediately attempted to pull his hands back, an apology dripping on the tip of his tongue. Instead, you surprisingly threw your hands on his wrists, caging his hands in place.

If that didn’t surprise him enough, you leaned in close to his face and kissed him once more. It was fiery this time; he felt your tongue darting at him while your teeth nipped slightly at his bottom lip before you pulled away. He gasped louder than he should have.

You giggled at his shock and nuzzled your face on his neck. “Sorry. Reflex.”

“But mommy—” Felix froze, realizing what he had just said. He didn’t mean to say that.

All the cockiness he displayed earlier fizzled out into thin air. You could feel the heartbeat in his neck thumping against your lips. From his eyes fluttered shut to wide open ones, you could see the embarrassment wash over him.

Sure, you two were doing something intimate, kissing and groping in front of the camera. He knew and trusted you enough to edit it out, but the idea that footage would have existed of him calling you that nickname…scared him. The camera watched him, the microphone picked up his low voice, and on the off-chance that this moment makes the cut, thousands of people would have seen it. 

He’d gotten used to the idea that millions of people could pass by his face and body, but it’s different when he’s exposing a bit of himself that he only reserved for you — his “mommy.”

“Y/N… Shit, I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t—”

“Oh baby, it’s okay.” You gave a reassuring look and a warm smile, shifting your position to hide his face away from the phone camera.

The pet name was his suggestion. The idea that you could hold this title as his dominant partner was something he never thought of telling you at first, but the moment he mentioned it, you indulged immediately. It was something so dear, so sweet, and soft, definitely making you less of an ominous presence to him in bed and more like a warm home he can return to. You loved it even if he didn’t expect you to.

Even while he’s embarrassed and fully vulnerable, he felt so safe, entrusted to the only one in his life that could take the title without judgment. 

“Call me that as much as you want. I won’t show it,” you whispered. Felix nodded but you didn’t miss the tears threatening to form in his eyes.

“Mommy…” He inevitably gave up and dipped his head in the crook of your neck. You petted the back of his head again and kissed the side of his head, calming him with hushes and soft hums.

Before he could melt at your warm embrace, you took a few steps back. Felix whined and hoped to hug you for longer, only to watch you press the button on your phone to stop the recording. You shut the phone off, looked back at him, and smiled with your eyes.

He always valued your respect for his boundaries and the fact that you always made his comfort your top priority.

“We’re not done,” you inched closer, “the lipstick’s still on there.”

Because if you two were going to fuck comfortably, you two were still going to fuck.

Taking his arms and pulling them towards you, you prompted him to wrap himself around you as your lips crashed against his. You held him by his waist — it was remarkably small, toned, and muscled but definitely made for your hands to take it.

With force, you hugged his waist and carried him slightly, pushing you both on the couch. You sat on it while he was essentially hovering over your figure, his hips just above your lap.

“Mommy—g-god,” Felix gasped, muffled by another nudge of your mouth.

As if your brain switched off, your hands started going on their own. One was trained on his hip and the other snaked up his side and cupped his face, making him tremble at the sudden yet soft movements.

You were focused on the kiss but you just knew he looked gorgeous.

Of all the clients you put makeup on, your boyfriend always turned out the prettiest. Maybe it’s because his eyes seemed to shine with certain shadows on them. Maybe it’s the way his freckles peek through the base products. In this case, maybe it was the plumpness of his lips that you loved, covered in a flattering shade of red. Maybe that’s what was doing it for you.

“You’re so cute, baby,” you said, pausing the kiss.

Felix pouted. The pigment on his lips accentuated the curves of his mouth. “Not as cute as mommy.”

“Hm, thank you. But you’re my cute baby.”

Sometimes, you wonder how you got this to be so vulnerable, so whipped for you. It didn’t take him that long to warm up to you with this side of him, a side he so dearly hid from the rest of the world. It’s like this doll was made for you.

“Mommy,” Felix dragged out a whimper as he called you by the title. “Making me needy.”

“Don’t get impatient baby boy,” you whispered, a kiss on his temple following your sweet words.

While rolling your hips onto his, you thought about it what you said. You thought back to the last night he fell into this extremely submissive role. He’d always been the one under you and you’ve always been the one in control, but during that one night — similar to this one — he shyly asked you to call him a certain pet name. You loved it, probably more than he did, and you figured he might want to hear you say it again.

“Or are you my baby girl for tonight?”

“Mommy!” Felix scolded. If his cheeks were already flushed, his entire face heated up with a warmth that you simply indulged in. His ears and the corners of his eyes lit up with a blush tone that complimented and accentuated the cherry color that lined his shy smile.

He enjoyed the pet name too much, and he seemed to be threatened with memories of the same night the moment you said it.

“What? Don’t want to be my baby girl? It’s okay if you—”

“I’m mommy’s girl! Yeah, I’m their baby girl!”

Almost all traces of bass in Felix’s voice left the moment he squealed his response to you. 

His eyebrows were slanting upwards like a needy puppy, his eyes sparkled as beads of tears sat on his eyelashes, and he wiggled his hips onto yours with a neediness you’ve seen many times before. He briefly whimpered again in a high pitch. 

Being called that for the first time was as special to him as it was to you. It still landed him punches to the gut every time you said it. You would wonder why he loved it even if he was incredibly comfortable in his masculinity.

Maybe it made sense like that, considering he was wearing makeup while sitting on your lap.

You kissed him again and praised him until he gave into the burning sensations he felt from your overwhelmingly smooth graces around his body. With fast swipes, you pulled his plain shirt over his head, only to clothe him again with nothing but the warm embrace of your arms.

He moaned, writhed, and whined, adjusting his position on your lap until his legs were slotted against one of your thighs. Once he found his balance, he rutted against your leg, letting out a sound that he couldn’t resist.

“Didn’t even undress you yet, I still have pants on, and you’re already riding me?” You smiled widely at him. Felix huffed, unable to think, inhaling so that he wouldn’t drool on your shirt.

Or your chest, now that you abandoned your top in a flash, leaving it even harder for him to contain himself.

You took his lips into yours again, this time licking and biting his sweet mouth, allowing his tongue to slide against yours. It was messy and sloppy, just the way he needed it. You wondered if he had been craving this for so long and just couldn’t tell you.

Nevertheless, the next step was to take the bottoms off of your lower half and his own, but he paused your hands from reaching onto his crotch.

“W-Want mommy’s off first,” he sighed. It sounded more like a question now that his voice was so high and his tone was so soft. He was far from the boy whose mouth went foul over his own best friends at work.

His head was far gone, you figured.

Felix helped you pull your pants down, careful not to disrupt the current position that you were both in, only slightly lifting yourself off the couch. He sighed once he saw you, bare and beautiful, rid of anything that kept him from being horny the entire day.

He wanted you so bad.

“Baby girl, tell me,” it was your turn to pause his hands from reaching you.

“Is something bothering you?”

“No…not really a-a bother…” He pursed his lips.

He figured to rip the bandaid off and just show you the source of his discomfort—or, as it seems, the source of his pleasure.

“Baby girl, you…”

He revealed a pastel pink lacy fabric covering his private area. He was wearing panties.

“I…I got them from a PR package…from th-that one underwear company…” Felix justified, stuttering from both extreme embarrassment and arousal.

“It was supposed to be yours b-but I…liked it so much…a-and I wanted to…”

You couldn’t help but notice the drool threatening to fall from his tongue, glossing his lips. Distracted, you didn’t kiss him. You licked his mouth and bit his bottom lip again. The blood under his skin rushed to color his lips, emphasizing the pink-colored stain.

As you bit his lip, your fingers found the band of his panties, toying with the pink lace before slipping under it. The flesh — rather, his cock — was hard and pulsing. Felix moaned. His chest heaved from being unable to process everything at once.

“Baby girl’s clit is so hard for me already.” You pecked his cheek and let him whine. “You’ve been needy since earlier?”

“Y-Yeah, but, ‘m…not finished.” He mumbled under his breath. “Got more…to show you.”

He pulled his panties fully down, allowing his cock to bounce up. You couldn’t help but notice something at the base, but your suspicions were confirmed when he led one of your hands to touch his ass.

“You wore a butt plug the whole day?”

Felix’s face flushed into a shade similar, if not deeper than the cherry red he wore on his lips. At your words, he felt like crumpling into himself. 

“It’s just for you. Thought y-you’d like it.”

All you could do in response was kiss him deeply and thrust your thigh up, hitting the plug deeper into his ass.

He moaned deliciously into the kiss and almost cried at the contact. It fucked with him — literally — the entire day and you made it all the better. Only that he had so little time to adjust before you gave him a dark look again.

“Mommy, what are you—”

He was shut up by you licking his mouth and your fingers filling up his hole.

“Your cunt’s so fucking wet, baby girl.” Your words left your system through gritted teeth, filtering your animalistic desire to ruin him even more than ever. “This pussy is mine and only mine.”

You bit his lip once more, sucking on the plump flesh before abandoning it. “Bet your toys can’t satisfy you as I do.”

“They d-don’t, mommy!” Felix was on the verge of tears, choking back sobs as your teeth found his jaw, peppering it with love bites lining his natural contour.

You started pumping your fingers up and down his ass, hitting his prostate with your fingertips over and over. “Can only take me inside your cunt.”

“Ah, god—fuck, mommy!” The delirious sounds escaping him as he scrambled to hold onto your body kept you going.

As if he noticed, he started grinding into the air next to your entrance. You took this as his usual sign that he wanted to please you too. Felix valued mutual pleasure and craved it as much as he craved the sloppy crashing of mouths on a couch.

“Take me like a good girl.” Your voice softened as you cooed. “Can you do it? Ride mommy’s fingers while fucking into me?”

He could only nod frantically, allowing the drool in his mouth to drop onto his cock. 

The lipstick probably looked so messy by now.

You held his cock, lengthy and hard, and squeezed it in your free hand. “This is mommy’s to play with.” 

Shoving it into your entrance, you curled your fingers deep onto Felix’s prostate, eliciting loud moans from either of you. Felix could scream from the sudden warmth enveloping his cock.

“Rub your clit against me,” you demanded, urging him to thrust his cock immediately. He complied only to start whining and crying out from the stimulation.

You leaned your head to the side and exposed your neck. With a subtle nod of your head, you invited him to bite your neck before his next thrust. Lightning bolts entered you when his teeth sunk into your skin for some semblance of comfort.

In turn, you kissed and sucked a spot on Felix’s shoulder. The biting sensation made him squirm away from you, but his noises only amplified when you latched onto a more sensitive spot above his freckled collarbone. It didn’t help that your fingers were practically exiting and entering his hole completely, filling and emptying him at a speed he almost couldn’t take.

The stimulation from all ends of his body caught up to him, release rumbling from his core up to his cock. He begged and pleaded and called your name multiple times as you did too. Felix readied for release but shocked himself when it came suddenly, almost without warning.

He started gushing just outside your entrance, the relief surging through his hips in waves: it had never happened to him before, but the slight amusement on his fucked-out face sent you over the edge too.

You came at the same time, your wetness coating the sides of your thighs and the cushions of the couch, the pool of both your juices mixing right under you.

It had to take you both several minutes to an hour of downtime before you both got up to clean. During that time, Felix held you close, trapping you in a warm cuddle.

“Y/N, I love you,” he whispered, his deep voice returning, calming you from your high.

You pressed one more kiss on his lips. “I love you too, Felix.”

Aftercare had to be a non-negotiable after the scene you guys painted all over the living room.

You made sure to offer Felix the softest bubble bath, massaging and soothing every inch of his skin, scrubbing away at the residue of the new lipstick.

You both found out, just before the bath, that it barely survived at all. It still stained his lips a shade of red, and the stains of love bites that he left on you stuck for a long while, but the actual product budged possibly within the third round of kisses. It barely held on when you started biting him.

The bedroom was full of giggles and the shuffling of your bodies cuddling close to calm yourselves down. Felix shared how he couldn’t believe his horniness that day, and you teased that he was being a hormonal girl.

He whined at that, kissed you good night, and fell asleep while huddled close to your chest. You calmly played with your phone, quickly editing the footage and clipping out the moment that he slipped into submission.

That was for your eyes only.

You posted the video and muted the notifications, kissed his forehead good night, and fell asleep.

—

“Baby, baby girl…” Your voice, although hoarse and deep from the blissful sleep, woke your boyfriend up. The clock on your bedside table flashed 9:00 AM in bright red, but the light from your phone shone brighter. “Look at this!”

“Holy…Y/N, oh my god!” Every trace of sleepiness left Felix as he jumped out of bed. “The video blew up?!”

You sat up next to him, chuckling in disbelief. “Let’s see what people are saying.”

“Why does the suggested search bar have…”

Men marked up. Men with hickeys. Men whining. It was clear that the video affected your audience in more ways than one.

“Silly,” you giggled, sinking into your boyfriend’s embrace. “Wonder how this thing got through community guidelines.”

Felix pointed at a comment. “Help. Someone’s asking about washing the stains off.”

The both of you cuddled closer. As the sunlight shone through your curtains and hit your figures, it highlighted Felix’s honey skin and the cherry stains that failed to wash off in the shower.

You turned your head to his and smirked. “Should we film an update video? What about a part 2?”

taglist: @toastyseungmo @hobihearteu @biddes-enthusiast @snow-pegasus @subby-kpop @myrandomthoughtsandhobbies @eggielix @hanniecheesecake @chrisbahng @laylasbunbunny @ppiri-bahng @he-they-heathen @chriscentric @svintsandghosts @sstarryoong

+ @imrllytootiredforthis @imsolovelylovely @beefis @sorikkung @lix-ables figured to tag since yall showed interest!

special thanks to @meivida, my ride or die, the big brain that inspired me to write this in the first place! they also took time out of their day to proofread it ^_^

thank you for reading ! consider reblogging and leaving feedback if you loved my work 💗 artwork and writing © ipegchangbin. no reposts and translations.

[mxtantrights]

the shopping incident

this is a snippet from the famous dc! au that started with The Greatest Hits [read here] you don't have to read it but a lot of things would make sense if you do!

The whole pap thing started happening after there was buzz about the video with you and Jason. You know that Jason said his brother handled it as best he could online but these things have a way of rearing its ugly head anyways.

Which is why you can't leave the thrift store you are in now because there is a small swarm of paparazzi outside waiting and biding their time. They wanna ask you about the video, they wanna ask you about Jason. They wanna take a picture of you when they do so they can say they caught you off guard.

You don't know what else to do besides not leave. Leaving means facing the wrath of camera lenses and mics and hidden mics and raunchy questions and baseball capped people trying to make a living off your privacy.

So, with not know what to do you call the only person you know who can help you. You tap away on your phone until you get to his contact and then you send him a text.

you: tips on how to deal with paps?

Three ellipses show up hurriedly. You're not sure what Jason's up to these days but he's probably busy. It makes you feel guilty for even reaching out to him. You want to unsend the text but you can't, he's already seen it.

Jason: are you okay?

you: yeah yeah, just wondering how I can get from this store to my car without doing anything stupid.

Jason: just don't answer anything. are you alone?

you: yeah I just wanted to look in this store for a moment but I forgot I wasn't exactly a browse-in-the-store normal person.

Jason: happens to the best of us

you: including you?

Jason: well with a face like this I kinda can't forget I'm not normal

you: how do you walk around with a head that large?

You laugh at his joke. And when you pick your head up you are face to face with a man. A regular looking man, about your height. He's got a smile on his face.

"Sorry I'm not here to intrude or anything, I just wanted to know if you are gonna buy something?" he asks.

That's when you look down at his shirt. More specifically the tag on his shirt that reads: Manager and his name underneath the title, Ron.

You take a deep breath, "You know what, I really was looking around and I saw some things that I liked but the group outside is really getting to me."

He nods his head as if he understands. In your mind you think, maybe he does. This is California, he's most likely had this shop for a while now. He has to know what it's like. Yeah.

"Well you're free to wait them out however long you want, I just don't have a back-door option at the moment since construction is happening in the next building over." he explains.

Well, there goes any plan of sneaking out of here. You choke down a sigh and smile anyways.

"Thanks Ron. I think I should shop anyways, why let them get the best of me?" you rhetorically ask.

He gives you a thumbs up and then he's walking away to assist another customer. You look back down at your phone. Its on silent meaning you didn't see all the texts coming through from Jason.

Jason: learned from my father

Jason: you should ask the owner if theres a backdoor.

Jason: I promise it's not a big deal hun

Jason: hey?

Jason: Did something happen??

Jason: Hello??

You are quick to reply back, worried that you made him sick with his own worry.

you: Sorry was talking with the owner. no back door.

Jason: that's okay. do you wanna wait it out?

you: honestly no. I'm hungry and I have food at home waiting for me

Jason: okay pick up the phone

You're confused why he says that. Then that confusion is met with realization when his caller ID pops up on your phone. You hit accept faster than you have before and raise your phone to your ear.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" he asks.

You snicker, "Oh I'm feeling like I'm in a gilded cage. How's your afternoon?"

"Well I was stuck in a meeting for this role I didn't want so thanks for getting me out of that." he answers.

With the phone tucked into your ear by your shoulder you can look around the store now. Its filled with things that you like. Trinkets that couldn't be explained in your home, shoes that you have no business wearing. Things like that.

"You keep calling me when you're busy and people are gonna think I'm the bad guy." you speak.

On the other end you can hear him laugh. A sound you like to hear, a sound you miss not being on set with him for a while now. That's soon to change with pre-production ending in the coming weeks and filming set to start in a month after if all goes well.

In front of you is an assortment of things. Your hand reaches for a motorcycle helmet first. It's a cherry red color. And it's a bit scraped up but you think that adds to the velour of it all. It's funky looking. You have no use for this other than it would look bad ass in your home.

"Too bad. Anyways, when do you plan on leaving?" he asks.

You pick up the helmet and examine it with both hands now. It's not shiny, but you can see your reflection in it nonetheless. Pretty cool.

"As soon as I finish what I came here to do, which is shop." you answer.

"Do tell, is this the sexy time kind of shopping or is this groceries?"

You laugh and place the helmet back carefully. Your hand reaches for the next thing. A green book that looks worn out a bit but still in good condition. You read the spine and your eyes go wide.

Oh this is gonna be good.

"I'm not buying anything you can think dirty thoughts about you creep. Besides I think groceries can be sexy." you reply.

"Very sexy hun." he retorts.

You grab the book with your hand and walk over to the register. This was it. You needed something to say that you weren't unnerved by the paps outside, that they didn't manage to derail your plans. And you needed also to get the hell out of here.

So you slide the book onto the cashier table.

"Hey are you still free two weeks from now?" you ask.

"Yeah, I thought we had plans." he answers.

"We do, we do. But maybe we just move them to somewhere private." you speak.

"Of course, we can. Your place or mine?" He asks now.

You realize how you might answer in the privacy of your own home is a bit scandalous for the public setting you're in right now. So you erase the joke you have for him in your head and go for something appropriate.

"Mine." you say simply.

You sigh out your wallet from your bag. The cashier prompts you for your card and you give it to them. A quick swipe and then your book is getting wrapped and put into a regular brown back.

"Good. Tell me when you're about to leave." he says.

"I'm checking out at the register now." you answer.

The cashier gives you your card back first. You put it back into your wallet and drop it into your bag. Then you are handed the shopping bag.

"Okay stay on the phone with me when you walk out." Jason says.

You mumble a thank you to the cashier. And then you gussy up the courage to walk out the front door. You opt to hold your phone up to your ear, giving your shoulder a break.

"Walking out now." you say as you push open the glass door.

As soon as the California air hits you, the cameras do too. The questions are shouted. Yelled. Thrown at you. You keep your head down a bit. Where you parked your car is at the forefront of your mind.

So much so that you don't fully register what Jason is saying to you on the other end of the phone. You just hum along until you are finally at your car. Then you unlock your doors, set the bag down in the passenger seat and get inside.

The car door closes and you let out a breath. The paps are still outside but they are immediately less loud. And they can't come in here. Some seem to back off a bit.

"Okay?" you finally hear Jason ask.

"Yeah yeah, I'm in my car now. I'm good." you speak.

"Good. Good. Okay. Do you want me to let you go now?" he asks.

You put your phone on speaker and put it into the cup holder. Silently you let out a ragged breath. It's rough and you sit back into your seat.

"Yeah, I think I'll be fine." you answer.

"Text me if you're not. And text me when you get home." Jason says.

"I will. Thanks again Jay."

"No problem. Gotta go."

"Alright, bye."

Your phone buzzes. Call disconnected. Your mind is able to calm down now being in the vehicle of transportation to get you away from the madness. And after hearing Jason-wait a minute.

That's when it hits you. Jason. Jason, on the phone. As you were walking out to your car in the flurry of paps, questions and snapping cameras, he called you something.

He called you baby.

[flamemons]

How do you think Digimon Frontier might have gone if the Spirits of Steel, Wood, and Earth had been bequeathed to Ophanimon, the Spirits of Darkness and Water had been bequeathed to Seraphimon, the Spirits of Flame, Light, Ice, Wind, and Thunder had been bequeathed to Cherubimon, and the protagonists had been Katsuharu, Teppei, Chiaki, Teruo, and Koichi (with Kouji joining later)?

im just gonna ramble whatever comes to mind lmao. i drew some stuff too!

uuh while i find it hard to care too much about those other kids because well, I don't know much about them, it is really fun thinking about how kouichi would act if he was there from the start. I think he'd be serious, in a similar way to Kouji, bc he's there on a mission, y'know! All he remembers is following his brother around until Kouji gets some weird text message (wait,,, does kouichi have a phone? probably not, huh. poor people gang ftw...) and now hes in this fuckin place! (hes a dead soul in this au too.) I'd imagine he'd be just as driven as Kouji was, if not more so, bc he KNOWS koujis gotta be here somewhere....but instead of initially trying to avoid the other kids (koujis strategy), he'd probably stick around as soon as he realizes that theyre gonna get themselves killed if they keep acting stupid. So, instead of trying to ditch the kids or act distant, he'd nag them and rush them to stay on track, and come off as kind of a bossy stick-in-the-mud at first

Side note, its easy to think of kouji as being a lot more serious and mature compared to the rest of the frontier kids, but honestly, I have to wonder if he wouldve acted differently if ophanimon wasnt calling him all the damn time telling him that he has to find answers! hes gotta get stronger! theres something he Has To Know!!! like damn if ophanimon was that specific with the other kids they'd also probably be just as sullen. anyway, kouichi would be feeling the same kind of pressure.

in an attempt to make it more interesting for me, chiaki and teruo are now siblings. or close cousins. or something. (what if they were fraternal twins?? that would be so funny actually. there is a statistically improbable amount of twins here!) AND bc i like chiaki the most i think she'd make a cool leader of sorts! like, the lancer to kouichi. kouichi ends up accidentally being the leader bc hes so driven, and chiakis like, a genuinely nice person who really wants to help the digital world as soon as she steps off the first trailmon onto the flame terminal. she also doesnt take shit from anyone. maybe she was a quiet wallflower-type kid at school, but, if its for another's sake, then she'll always speak up! so now, in the digital world, she cant stay quiet!

ah i love just making shit up. this is fun

so together, they make the most chillest leader/lancer duo ever. (hey, if they WERE to be the two Main Ones, wouldnt it be cool if their Susanoomon-type evolution was deep-sea themed? mix darkness and water together, and you get The Fucking Abyss. it could be bioluminescent! a cool way to turn "light into darkness!")

btw, im not drawing any spirit forms here bc I think these kids would have alternative spirit forms as opposed to the evil ones in the show. like, heroic looking ones (basically, no child deserves to have to spirit evolve into grottomon) BUT im no good at character design and that sounds like a lotta work. also, the other spirits (fairymon, chakkmon, agnimon, etc,) would need evil forms too then, right?? that sounds like a REALLY hard thing to try drawing, so nah. just imagine these kids spirit evolving and fighting offscreen. speaking of the other spirits though,

i want chakkmon/tomoki to try pummeling the shit out of katsuharu and teppei!! karmas a bitch!! tomoki didnt get to have his character development in this AU, bc he (probably) fell off the trailmon train tracks and got Got by cherubimon!

i like the main frontier kids too much to not include them in everything i draw Ever, so imagine that maybe they all came to the digital world alone, and wandered around until they found their respective spirits (in similar circumstances to the show) but since those spirits belongto cherubimon, theyre possessed/convinced to fight on cherubimons side!! like "oh shit i have no friends and i hate my life, yea this big evil bunny has a point lets go fuck shit up". maybe some of them are fully in control of their actions, maybe some arent. maybe some of them remember that theyre human, but maybe some of them dont....?

lastly, i have to apologize bc i got completely sidetracked bc i thought "oh takuya and kouji would be very funny as team rocket-esque villains" so heres flamon and strabimon but Evil™

i like to imagine that theyre the Most Incompetent of cherubimons Evil Guys but theyre the only two (that cherubimon knows of) that can form susanoomon so THATS why hes trying to collect all the spirits. bc of that, they DEFINITELY dont remember that theyre human. (bc of that, they also kind of dont have anything to care about, so theyre just trying to have fun)

it would be fun if they were initially kind of lame but although they may be idiots, theyre not Dumb, so they slowly become competent at the same rate as the Heroes do, and instead of a sephirothmon arc theres like.......a beowolfmon and aldamon arc??? im not a writer i dont know. watch these five kids (and counting!) get slowly hunted by two fucking Beasts in the darkest forest ever.

or maybe they do Actually manage to collect all the spirits but it goes so horribly wrong and now theres like ten goddamn kids and ten spirits mashed up in the psyche of a very unstable susanoomon and its just some fucked up Twisted psychological nightmare. digimon evangelion.

basically in this AU, there is even MORE wild tone shifts and the plot goes Absolutely Fucking Bonkers. and takuya's cosplaying Jotaro Kujo for some fucking unknown reason.

thank you for asking! this was....probably not what you were going for, but c'est la vie

[neolxzr]

Literally a genuine question no ill intent

What do you like about Aira? As much as people are absolutely adamant Akira is projecting (I really don't think he is (I'm not saying Akira is innocent) I just think he's trying to address the prejudiced thoughts the average Japanese person will have on the Ainu) Aira's weird comments and behaviour to Hiiro have been there since day one. And I also think Aira being the one who says all this is because he's supposed to reflect the fans and the average Japanese fan probably isn't that educated on the Ainu + there can be a good few racist enstars fans...

I'm not trying to sound heated about this I'm just coming from a genuine place, what appeal is there in Aira?

Also, as much as the Aira fans are talking about blaming Akira, I feel like there should absolutely be a focus on Hiiro right now considering that comment was... yknow said to him. I just think we should actually be talking about the Amagis considering that comment was intended to discuss the Amagis and their culture and the discrimination they go through.

i had someone ask me a similar question once but not in the context of all thats happening currently so you can read that here if youre inclined

buuuut what made me like aira so much in the first place was honestly that his concept as a character is really funny. i made a post a long while back that went into the funny meta jokes that you could make using aira as a character before i really knew much about enstars at all. having a character in your idol series that loves idols and canonically reads fanfic about them is just a funny concept in general. and as i continued to read more he continued to be funny and annoying and endearing (his little mini interaction with midori comes to mind immediately. there is something wrong with him)

also i tend to gravitate towards characters that give me like. little sibling energy. i love having a favorite little guy to dote on

but afterwards what really drew me to him was the main story!! thermometry specifically comes to mind (ouuugh,,,,). his feature scout stories are also great and so is feather touch! i wont like. go into detail really cause my blog is covered in me talking about aira already

his dynamic with hiiro is one of my favorites too, especially in mainstory. their dynamic isnt JUST aira says shitty things to hiiro and thats it. their relationship develops really far to the point where aira admits that he needs hiiro as much as hiiro needs him. they're young and inexperienced and kind of codependent as they're trying to keep themselves from going under in a sort of cutthroat industry. i think thats really neat. their relationship is really sweet to me and aira is a great tsundere type of character. he regularly is shown to actually like hiiro a lot as mean as he can be to him sometimes i.e. here. and you know the whole holding hands thing (which they also fucked up in the climax story but Whatever)

theres also this. which i think about regularly. the hiiai shipping fuel is vast

and additionally i think aira has some really great relationships with other characters too, alkaloid especially. feather touch develops his relationship with tatsumi a lot and its one of my favorite aira moments. i couldnt find my screenshots for this one but basically aira gives tatsumi his unlocked phone (something VERY important to aira since hes a little screenager) and it shows tatsumi just how much aira trusts him and he realizes how important aira is as a friend to him. being someone with a history like him aira's friendship is sort of new to him and it helps them both grow

he loves his friends so so much and he’s had a positive impact on all of alkaloid. he is its heart after all

but in any case i'm not going to like, defend myself for liking aira. i am aware that the shitty stuff has been there from the start but i've said something similar in the past that was like. aira isn't real and he cannot take accountability for what he says. he's a character written by real people who doesn't have any control over how he acts. so i guess that's why when i think the writers write something i dont think he would do or say in my own personal aira opinion i can sort of brush it off as just bad writing.

and not in the sense that i dont recognize that enstars sucks, because it does. enstars can be terribly racist sometimes and not just when concerning aira, and thats important to talk about (i.e. the orient cards, the king of thieves cards, etc). but at the end of the day the most important thing to recognize is the people and company behind the game as well as the real people who play the game and are affected by it. and not like, the specific characters in the game. cause they didn't actually do anything or feel anything you know

[altschmerzes]

augh. the fuckening continues. Some More Stuff has gone down with my shitty shitty dad. yes. the one that died. It Continues To Go Down, Some Fucking How.

if you saw me talk about this somewhere else already sorry lmao. i don't even know why i'm like. i know there are people who i want to know things about how my life is going and who are invested in how i'm doing who follow me here and wouldn't have seen this elsewhere so it's like. sort of a bulletin and also i'm still just. it's circling around in my head kind of inescapably so. here's this. sorry for the continued oversharing re: The Fuckening, hopefully this'll be the last of it but apparently there is no way to remotely guarantee that he will stop pulling shit like this despite literally no longer being alive.

theres been a whole Thing where my dad had a life insurance policy through his work and the people from his job contacted our family and said that my sister and i were listed as the beneficiaries on the policy and so they needed the death certificate and our information to get that taken care of. i have been the one primarily in contact with the lady handling it, we emailed and talked on the phone a few times. and then recently my sister got something in the mail from the insurance people and i didn’t and we wondered if it was a problem with my address being canadian or my name change and so i called the insurance company today to get that sorted. according to them, based on the information provided by his work, I Am Not A Beneficiary. it’s just my sister, im listed as a contingency in case something happened to them before him or whatever i guess. so now there’s. that. going on. which, like. it makes sense, my sister is the one he had a relationship with and that’s a choice i made and it’s not like im owed anything but it’s still like. once again my sister is everyone’s favourite and im Nobody to my family unless they’re directly reminded i exist. except that like. he did remember i existed. he deliberately and specifically listed me as the backup and it was like- i felt weird about the whole thing already. Really Weird about it but this did not. make me feel Less Weird.

and it's like i just. why couldn’t the HR person from his job have read the fucking form correctly if that’s what it said this whole time. why was i listed as a CONTINGENCY beneficiary in the first place. i knew that man, i knew how his mind worked, i remember how every time i saw him when we WERE speaking he would inevitably bring up my brother and how my brother wouldn’t talk to him and how much that sucked. listing my sister for this policy and then adding me as a Backup Plan was like. this wasn’t about wanting to take care of my sister and just not thinking of me at all. so it’s like all the rest of it and now just. knowing, like knowing this was a choice he made to Punish Me for not being involved in his life. because his focus was never on what he had it was always on what he didn’t and how unfair and horrible it was that he didn’t have it. if he just hadn’t thought about me at all his partner of 11 years would be listed as the contingency if they Needed him to have one, the only reason to have put my name down like that was to Make A Point and to get back at me for walking away from him and it just?

like who does that. i cant get my mind around it. there is literally no reason for my name to have been included the way it was except to make a point and that’s what im upset about, not the inheritance stuff, it’s just. he was a vicious, petty, vindictive person and he got one last shot in to hurt me the only way he could because i wouldn’t talk to him. that letter he sent last year to my grandmothers house, this, he like. he hated me, i think. some part of him was so angry at me that he hated me and wanted to hurt me in any way he could even just by writing my name down like Not You Though, The Other One Is The One I’m Acknowledging As My Child Who I Want To Care For And Protect In The Event Of My Death, But I Need It To Be Clear It’s NOT You on paperwork he probably never thought anyone else would see. how pissed and resentful do you have to be for that to be something you think to do.

just like. was it not enough. was what he did to me when i was a kid not enough. why do things have to KEEP happening. why does he KEEP needing to find ways to hurt me as bad as possible because that is the outcome he wanted. was to hurt me as bad as he could in whatever way he could. just. what the fuck.

yknow in my like. ninth grade english class there was this one super insane day after it was made extremely clear that my teacher had no control over the class and wasn’t gonna try and rectify that where these two kids who hated each other got in this big fight like. mid-class. and the way this fight took place is one of them was shouting across the room and the other was, and this is not a joke, repeatedly changing the name of a wifi hotspot on his phone, as a way of responding to her. this is about that level of petty, immature bullshit. conducting a fight with someone by changing the name of a wifi hotspot. getting back at your bitch of a daughter who won’t talk to you by filling out HR paperwork so that it’s SUPER clear you only meant the other one and NOT this one SO THERE. etc. what a fucking child.

[daisyishedwig]

Darren Criss songs I think you should hear

These are all songs I personally have saved on my laptop and phone that I've collected over the years by ripping them off of youtube. Some of them I've had since 2011 so I cannot guarantee that they are still available.

@vistars was specifically curious about this and then I got hyperfixated on it and did more than just his original but unreleased songs. I also shared fun facts and my personal opinion on lots of the songs. Below a cut because, just like Darren, I talk a lot.

Original songs without studio recordings

Another Love Affair (Performed once at Market Days in Chicago and never performed again, but there are dozens of recordings of it on youtube, so take your pick.)

Any of Those Things (Performed on the Listen Up tour in 2013 and not performed since. Not sure which specific show I have the recording of, but there are lots of recordings from lots of shows so you might have to search for the best quality)

Categories (There is a really old recording of Darren performing this pre-Glee, so he’s largely being ignored and theres a lot of chatter over him, but I think it’s cute to see how far he’s come. He also performed it once on the Listen Up tour, so you might be able to find a better audio quality there)

High School Rock Out (Written when he was in high school, he used to perform it pretty regularly, but not so much in recent years. I usually recommend recordings from Joe’s Pub but there should be multiple recordings of it you can choose from)

The Muse (The first recording of this to exist was on some sort of student talk show at UMich, but then he also performed it at the Homework Release Party in 2017. I have them both saved, but the latter is probably “better” but the first has a lot of nostalgia)

Once Upon a Time (I fucking love this song, if there’s one song on this list I say you /have/ to listen to, it’s this one. Performed on the Listen Up Tour, same as Any of Those Things)

Pheremones (Same as Any of Those Things)

Picture Perfect (Sam as Any of Those Things)

Sophomore (A classic high school Darren song that he used to perform all the time but just doesn’t anymore, this song makes me so giddy and gets me so pumped, you have no idea)

Stutter (I recommend to version of this songs, because it’s probably my favorite Darren song even to this day. So, one is from Market Days in Chicago, it’s the easiest to find one with good quality audio and Darren also goes and has a little drum solo that’s really fun. The other one is from Joe’s Pub in 2011, there used to be a really good audio version of this but I /cannot/ find it anymore, but lesser quality ones do still exist. I love this one specifically because there’s this part where everything gets really quiet and it’s just Darren singing and then it builds and gets really intense and it just scratches my brain super well)

Words (From the Listen Up tour, same as Any of Those Things. This is the song I most think Darren would record if is ever allowed to (Pretty sure there’s weird legal issues around most of the Listen Up songs) because he did use a snippet of it in a medley during the Australia tour. Also just a fantastic song)

Original songs with studio recordings but I prefer a live version of it

Don’t You (From the Human EP but I really like the live performance from the Homework Release Party in LA in 2017)

Human (From the Human EP, same as Don’t You)

I Don’t Mind (He performed this for the first time as a bonus song on the Listen Up tour. I don’t necessarily prefer this version, but I have a lot of nostalgia for it since we didn’t get a studio recording for another four years)

Jealousy (From the Human EP, same as Don’t You)

Not Alone (From the Human EP, same as Don’t You. But also, Darren did record a fully orchestrated version at one point, but for legal reasons was not able to release it normally. So instead he sold tshirts and sweaters with Not Alone lyrics on them and sent the song out as a “free gift”. I don’t know if anyone has uploaded this version to youtube, but if you can get your hands on it, it is very good)

Sami (From the Human EP, same as Don’t You)

Covers of songs performed live that I highly recommend

Cabaret from Cabaret (Performed at Elsie Fest multiple years, I personally think 2016’s is the best, but you can search around if you like. For anything coming from Elsie Fest, I highly recommend looking up Jenn the Broadway nerd, she always has the best audio quality)

Color with Todrick Hall (Performed at Elsie Fest in 2016)

Drive It Like You Stole It from Sing Street (Performed at Elsie Fest in 2016)

Falling Slowly with Lea Michele (Performed on the LMDC tour in 2018, performed at every stop so there will be lots of options to choose from)

Frank Sinatra Medley with Michael Feinstein (Performed at a New Years celebration, but I forget what year, really fun little mashup though)

If I Were a Rich Man from Fiddler on the Roof (He did this series of performances in 2016 (I think) with Seth Rudetsky and he performed this a couple of different times during those.)

Middle of a Moment from James and the Giant Peach (I think this was performed at some sort of UMich event, but I’m not sure. There was once a fan recording of it, but now I’m pretty sure the only version that exists is one where he’s noticeably been autotuned. Still cute, but not quite as live as I would like)

Midnight Radio from Hedwig and the Angry Inch (Performed at Elsie Fest in 2019 with Lena Hall and John Cameron Mitchell, I was there, I cried, and I will forever have extreme nostalgia for this performance)

Opening Doors from Merrily We Roll Along (Performed this with Jeremy Jordan and America Ferrera for Six by Sondheim many years ago. Not a live performance, but also not available to purchase or listen outside of youtube and HBO)

Part of This World from The Little Mermaid (He’s sung this a lot, the specific version I recommend is from a performance at Joe’s Pub in 2011. There’s this weird audio glitch at one point that makes him sound like he’s underwater for a little bit and his response to it is really cute)

Proud of Your Boy from Aladdin (He performs this on a special feature for the special edition of Aladdin that was released a while back. But you can also find it on youtube)

Sincerely Me from Dear Evan Hansen (Performed at Elsie Fest in 2018 with Grant Gustin and Will Roland)

Teenage Dream by Katy Perry (Darren has his own arrangement of Teenage Dream that he’s been performing since 2013 and it is an absolutely stunning arrangement. My favorite recording of it is from Elsie Fest in 2016)

Unconditionally by ???? (Performed with Mia Phirrman at Trevor Live on year)

Wait For It from Hamilton (Performed at Elsie Fest in 2019)

Waving Through A Window from Dear Evan Hansen (Performed at Elsie Fest in 2019)

Your Song by Elton John (I have no idea where he was when he sang this, but it appears to be a party and he’s just jamming at a piano and if feels very chill and Darren)

Starkid things

Goin’ Back to Hogwarts from A Very Potter Musical (Specifically the version performed at Azkatraz in 2009. This was the first time Darren ever heard fans singing his lyrics back at him and he gets so emotional it’s so sweet)

I Still Think from Little White Lie (Can be found on spotify, I just really want to make sure everyone knows this song exists because I adore it)

It’s Over Now from Little White Lie (Someone took the version from the album that was pitched to sound like Nick Lang was singing an pitched it back down to be recognizably Darren’s voice, can be found on youtube)

Status Quo from Starship (Performed on the Apocalyptour, you can find a lot of fan recordings of this and other songs he sang on both Apocalyptour and Space Tour but there’s also a really nice profession recording of specifically this song on youtube. Also, if you haven’t watched the Space Tour version of Goin’ Back to Hogwarts from the night Darren was there, you need to because it’s fucking adorable)

To Have a Home from A Very Potter Sequel (I have a really strong soft spot from this song, so anytime he performs it live I have to listen. My favorite is from the Homework Release Party in 2017)

We Don’t Wanna Be Sued (When AVPM (then called HP the Musical) was first posted on youtube, Starkid faced the possibility of being sued for copyright infringement. So they removed it, edited it, and reuploaded it later once they’d gotten everything figured out. In the meantime, they posted a video explanation of why the show was gone, and at the end, Darren came in and sang a song)

[phoneybeatlemania]

Previous anon. I think you're right that I chose the wrong time to jump into the discussion. Because George's relationship with Paul really isn't the main thing I struggle with. George's general jokes about the Beatles (especially when they feel directed at fans), occasionally Ringo, and others also make me feel this way. It's more an overarching thing around how to be funny and kind silmultaniously. But I think you still made a really good point about British humor that is helpful to me. (1/2)

Anon Ask 2:  I'm not English and maybe cultural differences play a bigger in role in my discomfort than I recognized.

Reference to last ask

Hiya again! Thanks for getting back to me on this :)

When it comes to making a more general point about Georges sense of humour (and whether the things he said really were Just Jokes, or if they went any further then that), I think theres an interesting discussion to be had there. And while I think his sardonic and deprecating humour was for the most part harmless (or intended to be harmless), theres times where humour can definitely be used as a malicious tool, so within some contexts I think you could make a solid point. 

The thing about George’s mockery of the group though (which included specific members and fans), is that I think this was a way of dealing with fame for him? Like if I had to deal with That Amount of fame, I can imagine that the only even remotely healthy coping strategy I would have would be to just joke about it a lot; so I guess its just worth keeping in mind that theres only so many ways one can go about dealing with immense fame.

When it comes to like Cultural Boundaries, I obviously wouldn’t know where in the world you’re from anon, but if perhaps you’ve grown up somewhere where humour isn’t generally very sarcastic or dry I could see why some jokes would rub off as insensitive, but ultimately his jokes (about the band, fans, legacy etc.) aren’t ultimately going to be representative of his entire experience with fame, legacy and/or the band. It was just a complicated relationship that Im sure he had with all these things. 

There was something interesting I read in Teatles Fanzine recently, which id like to share because it just brings to mind how much George really struggled with fame:

Beatlemania took a genuine toll on George. In the Anthology he said, “All the time, constantly, I felt frightened by things.” As early as 1963 he was having reservations. Allistair Taylor recalled an incident where George had failed to show up to the airport when The Beatles were meant to be flying to London from Liverpool. Taylor phoned him to find out what was going on, and he responded, “I don’t want to be a Beatle.” This cause Taylor to panic enough to go talk to him in person. He stated, “George didn't like all the pressure and the frenzy of the crowds and the fans.”

—Anxiety and the Quiet Beatle by Rose, The Teatles Anthology

As I said in the beginning of my response, I do think theres room for deeper discussions about Georges jokes, and whether they were harmless or hurtful. I would advise you though to just keep in mind that his experience with fame is something none of us are likely to ever be able to truly understand—so while it can be difficult to comprehend some his actions or choice in words, imo we should try remain somewhat sympathetic to that experience too. And while I wouldn’t personally want to ‘psychoanalyse’ George or anything because I don’t consider my self That Much of an expert, what i’ll say is that separating himself from the myth and the legacy I think in part was just a way of staying sane for him, because at the end of the day, he was just a guy*.

[*I think in particular as well, George just didn’t really have the personality type of someone whose kind of Built to do well under fame. Like the amount of fame they all experienced Im sure would take a toll on anyone, but I think theres certain people who would find it more manageable just because it suits Who They Are better, if that makes sense.]

But I can tell from the way you’re writing anon that like, you’re not necessarily seeking out things to dislike about him or trying to be hyperbolic etc. Like I do get that sometimes things about these men are just Hard to understand, because their lives are just Very Different to any of ours. So I appreciate that, and as I say, its a discussion worth having—I just think its important too to try and understand things from his perspective though. 

[heartfulofsighs]

Night Rides

Hi all! 

It’s been forever but I am back and writing again I suppose. I wrote this specifically for @negrowhat​ when I tossed around the idea of Hanse being an Incubus. So yeah I did that set it against a cool street racer backdrop and here we are. There will be a second part because it just got so incredibly long. Hope you guys enjoy! Find Part 2 Here

Warnings: None really actually, theres some kissing, also don’t street race this is fiction. About 6k words. 

Pleasure... He worried the little silver ring piercing at the corner of his mouth while he stared at the race course for that night. The warehouse district could be tricky and his eyebrows furrowed at the hairpin turn near the end. “Worried?” The voice sent a shiver of sheer pleasure down his spine and he hated that he couldn’t stop his reaction. He was suppose to cause people to shiver, one look and he could bring anyone to their knees begging for him. But here you were, saying one word, knocking his thoughts all around. He turned and narrowed his eyes, “I’m never worried.” Did you feel it too? He had been alone near the very edge of where people parked before gathering. He hoped to win and find a new partner. Someone he could take just a little energy from.  He felt himself getting weak, his senses weren’t as sharp and his control was dismal compared to normal. It was dangerous for him to be this tired and drained. Simple actions that he wouldn’t have noticed otherwise were heightened when he felt like this. 

That explained why he was suddenly so focused on your mouth. When you passed your tongue over your lips he almost groaned. He could imagine with vivid clarity leaning down to trace your lips with his own tongue. He imagined you being receptive, leaning into him and wrapping your arms around his neck…

He had to resist. He passed his hand over his face in order to break the pull he thought he was feeling. It should be easy, he just had to remind himself that you hated him. Whenever he did use his powers to feel you out there was a definite animosity. He wondered what your dislike tasted of. When he was close enough a person’s strong emotions acted on more of his senses. He went from feeling the emotion, to smelling it and tasting it on his tongue.   He wanted to taste what all your emotions flavors. Especially the rare times, when he looked at you and felt something different. He had caught a wanting, a longing, a needing feeling that made his mind blank. It was hard to ignore, it felt like you wanted him to be closer but he was never sure. It was so rare he forced himself to dismiss it. There were other people milling about, other partners he could easily charm but he decided to stay put. He put his phone away and turned all the way towards you. On race days you usually dressed casual like you were going to the gym. The leggings were distracting, he could see every curve. His hand would fit perfectly on your waist. “Are you nervous?” He asked, he stepped just a little closer and crossed his arms over his chest, “you’re number....” he made a thinking face waiting for you to fill in the information that he already knew. Your face scrunched into an annoyed frown. So cute, so tempting. His fantasy started playing again, all his senses were focused in on your body. Your temperature was rising, and he thought maybe there was that hint of desire. “Six.” Spoken clearly in a voice he wanted to hear his own name in. If he concentrated hard enough he could imagine you saying it several ways. Maybe breathy, maybe needy... He rubbed his chin, “breaking top five tonight?” when he cocked his head and looked into your eyes he couldn’t help but push a little with his power to feel your emotions. Mistake. The wanting clouded his senses and he had to step back suddenly. He covered his mouth and turned towards his car, “good luck.” He choked out. He wanted to lace different words with power and charm you… “Are you ok?” The concern in your voice was real but he couldn’t turn back around. It was way too dangerous. If he kissed you now neither of you would make it to the race.

You watched his back retreat past his car and into another clutch of people. He had just dismissed you without another word, just ran off as if you were the most disgusting thing. You picked the edge of your sweatshirt up and bent to smell the fabric. Maybe your kitten had sprayed on it? He was still getting the hang of the litter box and it had happened before... Nothing. You clenched your jaw. He had to be playing some kind of joke, something to throw your mind off the race. You should have never talked to him. All you had to do was park and wait until you were called. Something made you talk to him. Instead of doing the smart thing there you were. Getting out, starting a useless conversation. When you raised your head you saw him in slide into another clutch of people chatting with a girl. Hiis profile was so sharp, lips upturned in a constant smile. She was hanging on his every word just that quick. When he spoke to you his smile was different, his voice was different, and you wondered what made him so careful. You stood around alone staring down at your phone as the races filled up. You were going back and forth between following him and staying standing alone. It seemed forever until your phone buzzed but when it did you were relieved. It stopped you from doing something stupid.   “Ready? Park at the start.” The text message flashed against your screen just as you finished mapping the course. A familiar batch of butterflies fluttered in your stomach, you loved the before race jitters. They stopped your worrying about Hanse. When it came down to race time there was nothing else in your mind. You got into your car and blasted your favorite song. Your hands tapped on the wheel to the beat and you bobbed your head. There was nothing like race day, the exhilaration was always fresh, like it was the first time you had ever put your hands on the wheel. When you had felt it for the first time you had decided you had to keep chasing it.  You looked over the map one last time on your phone, the hairpin at the end was going to be tricky. You had to make sure you took the turn tight, had to make sure you watched your inside...

He was to the right of you when you looked up. His eyes were focused on you in a way that made you squirm. It felt like you were falling, that pull that made you angry. Why was he so alluring? It had to be the way his face was open but an inch away from mysterious at any given moment. When he laughed it felt like the joke was one that only he understood. The more you tried to understand it the more frustrated you got. He smiled then licked his lips like he was hungry. You felt it in the pit of your stomach.   “Good luck.” He revved his engine and looked away. Top five, you just really wanted to crack the top five. Beating him would be a plus but top 5 was the goal.

Most races felt incredibly fast but incredibly slow at the same time. You had to make decisions in an instant, had to trust in what you felt as soon as you felt it. Because you were concentrating so hard, it felt slower than real time. You led with Hanse on your bumper the entire race. The hairpin was your last hurdle and maybe if you had been more concentrated, more alert you would have executed it perfectly. But he took the opportunity to turn inside of your line. He slipped past you and came out nose ahead of you for the win. “You fucking dick,” you whispered under your breath. You had come in second, enough to move up to 5th but it was no fun if you didn’t beat Hanse. Especially after he tried to mess with your head beforehand. The curses kept flowing, under your breath you called him all sorts of names hoping he could at least sense how angry  you were and how inconvenient he was being. The small loose crowd of people at the finish line surrounded his car, hyping him up calling his name. He hopped out like some sort of celebrity. Giving a loud whoop and blowing kisses to the crowd, no one was ever that excited when you won. Around here you were tolerated, not hated, but definitely not loved. Your phone buzzed again, it had slipped during the race down onto the passenger floor. You cursed as your hand slapped around for it, just out of reach. The crowd sounded like it was going down. Maybe he had picked someone to celebrate with. Your fingers finally brushed it, with a little stretch you were pulling yourself to sit up. “Congratulations on breaking top 5.” The message read. You smiled down at it and sighed, even with Hanse being annoying you had accomplished your goal. Better to look at the whole thing as a positive then get hung up on him acting weird. Besides it wasn’t a bad thing for him to dislike you when you thought about it. God forbid you ever became caught up, like all the race groupies that showed up at the finish line.

Sometimes the girls who eyed him looked so incredibly struck like he was their whole world. There was no way you wanted to follow him around like some sort of lost puppy. When you looked up he ��was staring back at you. It took a lot not to stick out your tongue like a spoiled child. You could be mature. You could muster being an adult because the hassle wasn’t worth it. It was time to go home and celebrate, not dwell.  

Your apartment was nice and toasty. It was raining outside the perfect opportunity to sit on your couch and sip tea.   Besides wanting to win for the sake of it, the races kept you alive in a city with scarce jobs that interested you. The money wasn’t raining in but it came in steadily enough to keep you off the streets. During the day you either worked part time at the tea shop down the street or looked at old race videos. There had been a time when you wanted to make friends with other racers, but it was a jealous boys club that barely tolerated you to begin with. You also didn’t fit in very well with the race groupies. Besides Hanse, the racers didn’t really tempt you at all. They tried their best to make you feel stupid, and when they weren’t doing that you were effectively ignored. In a way it was nice that Hanse took you seriously. You thought about him again. About how he looked last night, in all balck with his stupid smile. You rubbed your face and made a frustrated noise. The mental back and forth was irritating. Better to keep your head where it belonged. The organizers kept a private page with uploaded drone footage and it helped you to study each one. Your legs were tucked under you as you watched Hanse win over and over again. He had what looked like an inch to slip past you. A margin that you wouldn’t have taken. There was no way you could slip your car into that tight line without scraping someone. He made it seem effortless. The fact that your win had been snatched so close was incredibly annoying. Your kitten Jet played with the edge of your blanket. He bit and fiddled with it until you picked him up and tucked him into your lap. “Next time we can’t leave any space.” You scratched behind his ears and he purred. “Next time we’ve got to beat him.” You spoke out loud and hoped it would be an affirmation.

The very first time he met you he knew you would be trouble. He thought you would react like everyone else did. As an incubus his presence was like a magnet to humans. He had never seen you at the races before and he thought you might be fun to play with. He had strolled up, all confidence, and leaned over you to see what you were watching on your phone. “Oh yeah, that race was really good. The guy who won came all the way from behind.” He said slowly. When you turned and locked eyes with him, he had felt the shock. A pleasurable jolt that traveled all the way up then back down his spine. He found he couldn’t speak for a moment and his silence confused you. “Do I know you?” You had asked, your eyebrow raised in question. He cleared his throat and held out his hand, “I’m Hanse,” he pitched his voice to charm but you didn’t seem affected. In fact you studied his hand for a much longer beat then he expected. He remembered his heart pumping, he remembered actually being nervous. “Nice to me you I’m…” He committed your name to memory instantly. For some reason he was determined then to know you. You weren’t giving off any of the receptive emotions he was use to. Instead you had felt guarded and before he could get you to say anything else you went back to your phone. You were ignoring him, and so easily. No matter how cliche it felt he liked you more for it. Each encounter had you opening up a little more. You went from ignoring him after a few sentences to playfully bantering here and there. It felt like he was making progress but he was beginning to wonder why any type of progress made him so happy. That couldn’t be good, couldn’t be healthy. He tried to figure out what his endgame was.

He scratched his chin and tried to think about anything else. It was bright outside, the light was filtering in through his curtains across his face. The girl he had slept with last night was tucked into a restful fetal position, she was also hogging all the covers. He saw no point in waking her up, he was feeling blissful and a little lazy after feeding off of her energy. His control was back, the on edge feeling erased. Hopefully it would last longer then a day this time. It was beginning to worry him that he needed energy sooner and sooner after absorbing it from someone. In the past he would go a whole week after one night but now he was lucky if he got two days worth. The thought was worrying so he pushed it away. He just needed to make sure he kept on his guard. The girl in his bed shifted and groaned. He patted her head and she sighed. He always had to be so careful with the amount he took from someone. She turned over and smiled at him before she stretched and got up. He gazed after her and tried his best to remember her name.

The races were loud. The usual noises, talking and laughing, people shouting, engines revving. He had been so buoyant that morning but the feeling had dwindled. He chewed his lip ring and tried his best to just let the noises wash over him. There was comfort in the familiar. He came to the races for the thrill. Charming humans had gotten boring but using his heightened senses to really push a car to its limit was challenging. Plus it made for a good location to find partners. A win all around for him truly. There was a laugh that sort of sailed above the rest and his eyes snapped open. He had been trying to focus himself. It bothered him to feel you on the edge of his senses. Your energy was like a pulse to him the strength of it only grew when he got closer. He leaned forward to look out of his car window. He was sure you were close. In typical fashion you weren’t laughing with people, your eyes were firmly glued to your phone. You laughed again so loud that the one group of people around you looked over in curiosity. His hands were working at the lock on his door. He stepped out and tried not to head straight for you. That would be incredibly awkward. He wasn’t going to race today, he had only come to find someone new. He had rules about avoiding you but your laugh was pulling him closer and closer. By the time you looked up he was there. “Oh,” and your smile diminished. He could feel your heart pickup and he didn’t feel an outright wave of animosity. He cocked his head and tried to make his smile harmless, “hey,” he brushed some of his hair back, “are you up today?” He asked. You shook your head. “No,” you shoved your phone away, “what about you?” He heard what you said but he was also stuck on the way you were chewing your bottom lip. “No, but I was bored tonight so I came anyways.” He pushed his hands into his pockets, “guess I’ll have to bother you all night.” He chuckled and half expected you to be annoyed with the prospect. Instead you shrugged and indicated the vacant space next to you. “Sure, I’m not gonna stop you.” You said.

It was probably the worst idea to give into the curious pulling feeling you felt in your stomach. But it was hard to resist him when he cocked his head and smiled like that. He was in fitted dark jeans, Doc Martins, and a comfy looking white sweater. His legs looked a million miles long. Unfair.  His dark hair still looked damp presumably from a shower. You blushed thinking about it, do not imagine him in the shower…He shivered next to you and let out a deep sigh. The tug you felt around him was pulling tight. You leaned a little closer and put your hand on his arm, “you cold?” It was the only thing you could think to say. His mouth kicked up into a smirk, he shook his head, “really hot actually.” He blinked slowly, his tongue peeked out passing over his lower lip. His skin did feel really warm under your hand. You took your hand back, crossing them a little under your chest. It took a lot of will power for you to focus on anything but the tension. Look at the cars or the people laughing or- “Did you get anything to eat before you came?” He nibbled at his lip ring absently, “I’m kinda starving.” Don’t give in. You wouldn’t be able to survive the pull in a car. It was too close and even though you were mostly sure you wouldn’t beg for his touch, it was very very dangerous to chance it. As much as your mind was racking up all the reasons getting into the car with him was a bad idea there was the part of you that urged you to try racing in the first place. The adrenaline hungry part of your nature was whispering all sorts of ideas. If you can race a car through city streets multiple times and keep your nerve then what was riding with Hanse. Nothing. Not a single thing to worry about. “I guess I could eat.” You finally said, you stretched your arms over your head and tried your very best loosen up, “I can’t remember what I had for dinner.” “Awww, then we have to get something really good.” His eyes were sparking, the darkness in them seemed to glitter.

He licked his lips enjoying the roll of emotions you sent his way. They were like flavors on his tongue. First curiosity, sweet but subtle it made him want to lean over and taste more. Then there was the nervousness, butterflies, also subtle. He smacked his lips and savored the strongest flavor…lust. Truthfully it was the most familiar to him but at the same time coming from you it was much different. The effect was making him sluggish, the flavor starting to cloud his mind. “Can I roll down the window?” Your voice, far away. He nodded then became instantly angry that he agreed. The wind blasted your scent away and it returned some of his higher thought. Not a lot of higher thought but enough that he leaned more to his side of the car, he didn’t want to scare you away. He was hungry for you but not hungry enough to push too hard. “Do you do anything else besides race?” His hands were firmly on the wheel. “Like do you have a day job?” “A tea shop downtown.” When he looked over your eyes were gazing out of the window, “what about you? What do you do during the day?” You asked and the curious feeling he tasted before intensified. “Work on my car usually, sometimes I work on other people’s too for some extra cash.” And try to make sure whatever partner he had that night (if he had one) was ok before they left. He was an Incubus but that didn’t mean he had to be an asshole. He knew of others who could care less about their partners, who drained them until they could barely function. The idea made his skin crawled. Besides being a shitty thing to do, it definitely wasn’t smart. Eventually a human would get wise about why they were feeling so crappy after sex. None would make the leap that they were being attacked by a demon, but still they would realize something wasn’t right. The other’s of his kind lived nomadically. Wondering and feeding with no solid address. Because he wasn’t greedy it was easy to keep a little apartment, and even some friends. He was proud of the little life he had carved out for himself. “That sounds nice, I need to dedicate more time to tune ups.” You said. He took the corner a bit too quickly and felt a spike in your energy. Anger. He looked at you again, confusion etching his face. “Whats wrong?” He spoke before he realized maybe he shouldn’t have let on about feeling what you felt. “Nothing.” The word was firm. The anger spiked harder. There was a perfect spot near the restaurant, he paralleled smoothly into the space showing off a little. When he put his car into park he revved the engine until you glared at him. He couldn’t help himself he liked the way your anger tasted. “I said something that bothered you?” He asked. You set your lips and shook your head slowly. So stubborn. Anybody would be putty in his hands, melting, begging. “You didn’t say anything that bothered me.” The emphasis you put on ‘say’ made him lean forward. “I did something that made you upset?” The way you pursed your lips briefly before huffing out a breath. “You took a tighter line on the last turn.” Your eyebrows pulled together, “I was going to win.” He made a very exaggerated “oh” face, “second place still isn’t bad.” He played with his lip ring and shrugged, “you still cracked the top 5,” he lifted his hand and ever so gently tapped the tip of your nose, “you should be proud of yourself.” The touch stunned you in such a cute way. He could close the distance, the anger was mixing with something else. He leaned away and turned the car off, “aren’t you hungry?”

It felt like tides, rising, falling. Back then forth, push and pull. Maybe you would be dizzy with someone else but with Hanse it kept you engaged. He teased you but did it in such a way that you couldn’t muster up any real anger. You couldn’t decide if his flirting was just a joke or if it was him actually shooting his shot. “Why pancakes?” He asked. “Because I like breakfast food,” you started cutting your pancakes purposefully, “it’s good any time of day.” “A little rebel.” He mused. You poured syrup and shook your head, “pancakes don’t make me a rebel.” “Being in the races does.” He countered then sipped from his milkshake. You frowned. “Don’t make that face,” He warned, “It’s way too cute.”  Then without skipping a beat, “you really work on your on car?” You let the cute comment go and nodded, “yeah and I buy my own parts, I have to work on it myself.” You spoke in between bites. “Keeps me busy.” Your lips felt sticky from the syrup and you took a moment to lick your them. “Who taught you about cars,” when you looked up he was leaning forward, his focus was very clear. He was watching your mouth pointedly. “The internet.”  The sentence didn’t come out as snarky as you wanted it to be. All your snark evaporated apparently when he looked at you like you were a treat. Your stomach felt like it was tied into shivering knots. There was the curiosity pulling you to lean forward and forget about your pancakes. “You can really learn a lot on the world wide web.” It was his turn to laugh, “I guess you’re right.” He granted. He looked down at your plate, “be nice,” he leaned in, your heart picked up speed, “let me have the last bite?” It was like a scene out of one of those cheesy romance movies. You speared the last few pieces and floated the fork towards his mouth. He had such a nice mouth, it was unfair in a way. Attractive and funny, the universe really gave other people all the gifts. He opened his mouth and bit down, an appreciative hum came from him while he chewed. “Good?” You asked, knowing that he was either going to say something funny or something to make you burn hotter than you already were. “I really like sweet things.” He kept his eyes on you and it felt like you weren’t out in public at a little cafe. He traced his finger down your hand and seemed satisfied when you shivered. “Instead of going back to the races,” he started to trace his finger back up as he spoke, “we can head to my place and see what else is sweet?”

You didn’t say no. It would have been impossible and in the end pointless. There was nothing wrong with exploring this feeling. The lusting part of you explained away your willingness easily. A one night stand with Hanse wasn’t going to kill you. Not sleeping with him wasn’t going to win you any awards either. So you might as well give in and treat yourself to something nice. He drove with one hand on your thigh and you didn’t protest the contact. The warm weight of his hand made your stomach flutter. His head bobbed to the music on the radio and he beamed pleasantly. Every so often he gave you thigh a little squeeze, and the flutter in your stomach happened decidedly lower in your body when he did that. “Can I ask you something?” He glanced over at you and nodded, “sure.” “The other day before the race we were talking, and then you just turned and walked away,” He made a thinking face then blushed. You couldn’t believe it, but yes, that was a blush. The color spread from his ears to his cheeks. Now you really had to know, “are you blushing?” “It’s embarrassing.” He offered. “Tell me!” You sat up straighter and waited, “please? You can’t blush like that and not say why.” It felt like he was stalling. Which made you want to know even more. He turned into a parking structure and revved the engine again. The ramp was curved and he took it fast enough to make you sit back. Round and round, up and up until he got near the top. His parking spot was right near the elevator. His car fit like a glove. “Smooth.” You commented, “but don’t think I forgot the question.” You warned. He rolled his eyes, gave your thigh one last squeeze, and then hopped out. He walked around and opened your door before you could. “Come on,” he pulled your hand, “I’ll tell you if you insist.” He granted.   He pulled you along the beige hallway, humming to himself as he went. The building felt lived in and warm. Not like the trendy high rises downtown. He stopped at number 577 and pulled his keys out, “it’s a little messy,” he warned. “I’m sure it’s fine.” It was fine. His little living room and kitchen were very neat. Yeah there was a basket of clean clothes that he looked like he was folding next to the couch and maybe one dirty dish or two in the sink. You took your shoes off, following his example and padded in. Past the living room was a hallway that you guessed led to the bathroom. “Can I use your restroom?” You asked. He nodded and quickly pointed you in the right direction, “straight back.” He said.

He washed his hands at the kitchen sink, the familiar motions helped him slow his mind down to focus. Your scent and the flavor that came with it felt like it was filling his apartment. It made the other part of him, the supernatural part push to the forefront. This part of him was bored with the flirting game. This part of him was impatient. It craved the pleasure, and washing his hands helped him keep calm.   He had no idea his evening was going to go this way, and when he went over how you had ended up in his apartment he couldn’t quite figure out what made you agree to come with him. He hadn’t used any of his power, he just liked talking to you. The banter was fun and felt completely natural. He didn’t have to force himself to pay attention, he seemed to just naturally hang on every word, and laugh at all of your jokes, and- “Your apartment is really nice.” He turned to the sound of your voice and tasted lust like a candy melting on his tongue. You stood leaning against the cabinets behind him. You didn’t look particularly sinful but you certainty were giving off lust in waves. “So, you said you would tell me why you ditched me last time.?” You played with your fingers and he smelled your nervousness before he tasted it. A little tart. He pulled a hand through his hair and tried to think of a way to explain. “Don’t lie.” You warned. He swallowed, he could tell you a part of the truth. Get closer he allowed himself to take a few steps. “It’s embarrassing.” He tried to pout but failed when you looked up at him through your eyelashes. “It’s fine, I'm too curious now.” He had planned on stopping ahead of you, so that he could keep some space between the two of you. But his body had other plans he ended up leaning forward placing his hands on either side of the counter, caging you in. “You smelled really good.” He said. That was enough of the truth to make him feel like he wasn’t lying. He watched you consider his answer, it was harder and harder for him to concentrate. He titled his head and really inhaled every bit of you. “Good?” The little sing song way you echoed the word made his body shudder. You turned your face up and his lips were only inches away. He felt so starved for you. “So good,” He licked his lips and moved as deliberately as he could. He had enough control to stop himself if you wanted him to. You said nothing only met him the rest of the way and kissed him like he had never been kissed before. The rush was better than any race, any amount of speed he had pushed his car to. It was better then the first time he tasted lust. Your lips were everything. The perfect amount of softness and pressure. He felt your hands in his hair pulling him closer, you wanted him just as much and when you pulled away to bite at his lower lip he almost lost his mind. He worked your mouth living for the little hums you made. You moaned when he dragged his kisses down your neck. The sound made him shudder again, he could taste your energy. So close already. He kissed you right at your pressure point then bit down. The shock of it made you shiver. Your hands were around his neck now, pulling him in tightly. He put his hands to your butt and lifted you to sit on the counter. Better. More access, you threw your legs around his waist. Every soft sigh and little moan you let out made him want more in the worst way.

He held you on the counter, not sure how much time was passing until you pulled away, “bedroom.” He blinked at the word, the rational none pleasure focused part of his mind needed a moment to catch up. You touched his face, and stared into his eyes, “wow, your eyes look-” He closed them, willing the demon part of himself back. Of course you would notice. It was his fault, his mistake to kiss you in a well lit kitchen. He almost laughed at himself. You didn’t give him enough time to do that, you ghosted your lips over his again and whispered, “let’s go back to the bedroom.” He opened his eyes and slipped his arms around your waist. “Don’t judge me-” “Don’t even start, this place is spotless compared to mine.” The mixture of feelings he tasted and smelled from you almost scrambled his brain again. Taking your hand and leading you to the bedroom seemed like the biggest effort but he managed it. You followed, “you know you have a envelope like right in your bathroom sink, did you put it there so you wouldn’t forget to mail it?” He paused and looked down at you, “an envelope?” Luckily his place wasn’t too big. He only had to take a few more steps to see the big gold envelope. You had tried to place it back in its original spot but it had fallen to the floor. A chill crept its way up his spine. Your hand holding his felt like an anchor. “Hanse?” Distantly he heard you calling his name. You couldn’t see the writing on the front of the envelope. It was a sort of script that hid itself from humans very well. “Do, Hanse please open immediately.” He bent down and picked it up. Bad news, all bad news came in gold envelopes. “What is it?” You asked. You sounded worried and he knew he couldn’t keep ignoring you. “Well,” he swallowed and tried to find some of his usual humor, “how do you feel about an adventure?” “An adventure?” You cocked your head and he smelled curiosity. He nodded, “yeah an inconvenient one?” He fully expected you to let his hand go. You would yell at him for wasting your time then demand to be taken back to your car, and he would miss out on ever getting you in his apartment again. Miss out on the way you taste and all the energy he could feel just brimming under your skin. But on the other hand once you yelled, got back to your car, and decided to never speak to him again he knew you would be safe. He could live with that in a way, he had lived long enough to understand that being greedy never worked out in the end. He waited and you stared at him. Any second now…

You shrugged, “why not? I’m not doing anything I guess.” It was his turn to be absolutely baffled. You squeezed his hand, “as long as I get a prize at the end.” “A prize?” He thought that over. “Yeah, I’m not gonna be inconvenienced and get nothing for it.” You hugged his arm and for a moment he wasn’t so mad at the summons. An adventure meant more time…      

[isaacathom]

i have so many thoughts about my campaign but absolutely nothing coherent. just snatches of ideas. the most clear thing i have in my head is that, if the acting-commodore steps down once he has liberty, and in the ensuing election and hullabaloo, naielle becomes commodore, there is absolutely no way she comes back from the jade sea

naielle understands how she gets when shes stressed, when theres crisis. theres a point along this bell curve of emotion, pursuant to context, where she stops thinking about herself and only those around her. and once that threshold is passed, she'll do damn near anything for them.

as commodore, her station would necessitate being that much more aware of the crisis. that much more aware of the state of play. that much more aware of the myriad lives that she holds in her hands.

she would cross that threshold far sooner.

she knows this about herself, and it applies outside of formal responsibility. she knows this, and does not know how to change it, and so instead she removes options from herself. like changing the phone's password just before wisdom teeth removal to prevent from saying something nonsensical online, she has to put the weapon away before she becomes of a mind to use it.

she's failed at that before. she told herself the weapon she had would be safe in her hands, that she'd use it only for 'good', and not ill. and in short order she had used it to enthrall, to even temporarily rob a man of free will.

she has such a weapon now. two, even, if you like.

the first, and least likely to kill her outright, is a caged king of dragons, whose essence is hostile to mortality but whose personality is not, who sees the crew as a means to liberate himself, his breathren, and their domain. she uses his power sparingly for its risk, but she's come close before, and been lucky not to be overwhelmed. there is far more power she could gain from him, but it would tear at her from the inside, like a hollowing parasite. she's seen a dragon's power wrought on a mortal, and seen that he marks a man decades older than he ought be. She may be an elf, but even decades would see her predecease a great many people, and that assumes it does not do her worse. She doesn't know.

the second is the offer, if it can be called that, of her patron. reach for the stars, young elf, and find the divine. channel his power in the storm to banish the dark, and in so doing lose yourself. merge with the celestial. its death, she thinks when out of crisis. sure, theres a lingering of the soul, bound in the eternal starlight of the astral sea. but the form is gone, and much of the person. to merge with him would change her, and she would never see her loved ones again.

but his power could save them all.

a naielle who is mere captain, whose responsibilites are smaller, who is delegated specific tasks, has the capacity to decide to be selfish. she has the capacity, and the excuse perhaps, to decide that she refuses godhood. she can risk success for her own soul, if she likes. she may yet do so.

a naielle who is commodore, and for whom's patron remains in earshot, will take that weapon and point it at their ultimate foe, and consider one life worth thousands.

[wiihtigo]

Could you talk more about sam and max being autistic idk I just like hearing your thoughts about it your doc was cool

you come to me on the day of my daughters wedding and ask me about sam and max autism headcanons, forcing me to open tumblr and start writing what ive been thinking recently about maxs autism in relation to him in 305

i talked about this in private a bit but i think 305 could be taken as an allegory for maxs giant autism and thinking you dont feel things the right way with ASD

-max turns into a giant horrible monster in 305, this could be taken as him literally seeing himself as a monster and the whole town, all their friends, see him as such and want him DEAD all except sam whos constantly vouching for max this entire episode. at the end when superego was like "wow! max is actually capable of self sacrifice! amazing!" sam says "told you so." very smug because he knew all along, he always knew max was capable of kindness and love because he sees it firsthand every day!

theyre partners and best friends, of course he knows him better than he knows himself. Literally in this case, where superego, personification of part of maxs brain, thinks hes not capable of feeling things in a normal, proper way, max doesnt think that about HIMSELF, superegos issue with max (maxs issue with himself lol) is that he thinks hes capable of more and max is just ignoring him he says specifically hes tried to push max towards the finer things in life and being more proper (max trying to push himself? talking about max and superego as separate when theyre essentially the same is so hard #HELP.) he thinks hes selfish and cruel and not capable of a selfless act.

theres even a line superego says to sam where he says "you of all people should be able to understand my frustration after years of being partnered with a creature driven by pure id" which is like. does max think sam gets frusterated with him and doesnt want him as a partner because of the way that he Is. max. this is a nice little parallel to sam just last episode having that thought "max is getting so powerful now soon he wont even need me :(" but thats getting away from my point a little. (veering into max depression discussion which is a whole can of worms on its own, but it is worth mentioning autism and depression often go hand in hand and some of maxs self worth issues can be attributed to feeling weird about his autism traits)

anyways of course max was capable of a selfless act, of course he would save sybil and her baby, he loves sybil and he loves babies and he has a lot of love in his little heart. so skipping ahead a bit to the biggest scene in sam and max that baffle and confuse millions, maxs reaction to coming back to sam.

a lot of people are confused by maxs nonchalance and casual retelling of the horrible events that apparently went down in his timeline where he had to kill his sam. (interestingly but a little off topic, he specifically says HE blew sam up, whereas in this tl, max killed HIMSELF, sam didnt do a thing. in fact he wouldve probably stayed trying to save him until they both blew up if superego hadnt convicned him itd be tooootally fine to leave. seriously sam its OK hes NOT going to blow up i promise. ok bye bye."

so max comes back, immediately tries to jump back into normalcy and jokes and feels unsure and uncomfortable when sam doesnt reciprocate. he looks confused when sam hugs him even. a lot of people are like "what the hell did he mean by this" but TBH as someone with ASD and lots of experience in the "getting bad news over the phone and then going to a funeral" pipeline i really felt a mind and soul connection with max there! this is mentioned somewhere int he sam and max bible for the cartoon but steve purcell writes something along the lines of "max sees things differently from anyone else" on the topic of his strange reactions to things. which is like. You have autism ->

theres an unskippable line in 305 right before you get to the endgame where sam says "why does max have tear ducts? i cant remember the last time ive seen max cry." and then immediately gets into maxs juxtaposed reaction to sams death to sams absolute MISERY over maxs. max might not feel grief in the way people would expect from a person. he might not even be sad. he might not feel things in the "proper" or "normal" way but that doesnt make him a 50 foot shambling eldritch monster, hes just wired differently. as someone with autism ive felt it too where i dont think i feel things in the right way. if something really sad and fucked up happens to me i dont feel sad and the only thing im immediately concerned with is feeling uncomfortable with watching the people around me crying which, as im typing this, makes me feel like a monster freak for being so cold and cruel, but thats the point im trying to get at, 305 could be read as an allegory for this exact feeling.. because at the end of the day max is just max and sam is happy to see him and accept him as he is. hes not a monster, hes just sams partner and best friend and its ok to be exactly the way he is without feeling the need to change

[unrequitedloveletter]

Certainly- Kaz Brekker

The reader is a bit of an astrology and astronomy alike geek for this, which I hope y’all don’t mind! Also, in this case, phones exist so lets pretend that phones exist in Ketterdam, making it a bit of a modern au, I guess!

Also, this’ll probably be a bit ooc for Kaz

Fic type- angsty fluff

Warnings- blood, mentions of death, and the reader is sick (nothing specific, I just kind of took random symptoms and made up a word for the sickness)

You were determined to see the stars before you went, and as you grew sicker, none of the crows knew when that would be, so, after a little convincing, the crows had gotten Colm to let you spend a couple of months at his farm in Novyi Zem, where the stars were the clearest at night, not burdened by light pollution or the screams of lively cities. 

It was the seven of you crammed into a basement, sharing beds, but none of them cared, and you were just glad to be with the people you called family. You were happy that they were with you, that Kaz was willing to wheel you everywhere when you got too weak to stand, that Jesper still made jokes, even despite watching you deteriorate. You were grateful for Inejs smile, Wylans music, Ninas impeccable tastes and Matthias and his big arms that could lift you and put you down without issue. 

The six of them had started taking shifts taking you outside. Nina took you outside Sunday nights, Matthias Mondays, Wylan Tuesdays, Jesper Thursdays, Inej Fridays and Kaz Saturdays. Wednesdays you rested up; ate when it was time to eat, used the bathroom when you needed, took a shower if it were the appropriate time, but other than that, you slept.

It was Kaz’s day to wheel you out, and you’d had a particularly rough day that day. Inej went with him, promising not to intrude on the time that you would spend together. She’d do backflips and run across the roof of the farm if you asked her to, but she’d not interrupt otherwise. 

“I love the stars,” you whispered, leaning back in your wheelchair and tightening the hold of the blanket over your lap. “Thank you both. For doing this.” 

“Don’t you worry, love,” Kaz murmured. “Just keep your eyes on the stars, okay?”

“We’re happy to do this,” Inej added. “All of us are. Really.” It was like both of them could sense it as well as you could. You had a feeling that the night would end terribly, just like the morning had begun.

You’d woken up only to need to rush to the toilet immediately, blood coming up your throat like bile, staining your skin and leaving your bottom lip red as a cherry. 

Kaz had been at your side in a minute, Nina and Wylan right behind him. Wylan kept your hair away from the sides of your face, Nina slowed your heartrate and Kaz wet a cloth with cold water to get your body temp down. 

Kaz had forced himself to stay in the moment, to not let his thoughts stray to the urge to sleep in the same bed as you to make sure that nothing happened while you slept--to be there in case something did--but to stay on the sun as it set and the faraway sound of Wylan playing his flute with the window open so that you’d be able to hear it. 

Once you’d gotten settled under a tree, Inej ran off, making her way inside and up to the barns roof, where she sat, keeping a watch from a distance as Kaz let you rest your head against his shoulder, gloved hand interlaced with yours. 

“I love you, Brekker,” you murmured. “Please don’t forget that. Ever.” 

“I won’t,” he whispered. “You’re gonna stay around and get better until we can spar again, and you can beat my ass even though I’ve my cane as a weapon.” 

“You know full well I can’t promise that,” you wished that you could. You desperately wished. “I’m going to die young, Kaz. I’m not gonna get to eighteen, much less eighty.” Kaz hated you for that.

He hated you because everything that you said somehow managed to be right. It was like you had a sixth sense for that kind of thing, and while, on missions, it proved useful, in that scenario, it just proved annoying. 

“You’re gonna make it to eighteen if it kills me,” he informed you. “I’ll take you around the globe if I need to, just to make sure you end up okay. I will not live a life without you in it, Y/N.” 

“You’re sweet,” you murmured. “Incredibly sweet.”

“Only to you, L/N.” That was the last bit of conversation for a long while as the sun set and the stars came out.

“Did you know that the moon isn’t circular?” You pointed lazily to it, bright and beautiful amongst the even brighter stars. “According to scientests, it’s actually shaped like a lemon!” Kaz didn’t fight his smile.

Of course you’d be spouting off the little factoids you knew about space. You loved it, how vast and crazy it all seemed. 

“And that the clouds at the center of the Milky Way smell like raspberries and rum?” Kaz snorted.

“Okay, now, theres no way that ones true!” 

“Oh,” you leaned up, booping his nose without a care in the world. “But it is! It’s in a study somewhere, I think! Look it up!” He laughed, pulling you closer to him as you rambled.

Inej had started doing running flips across the roof, spinning and dancing and no doubt laughing as she did. Kaz knew it was an elaborate effort to get you to smile, and it seemed to work as she moved; a delightful silhouette amongst a star filled sky. 

“I love you, Kaz Brekker,” you whispered. “You don’t need to say it back, but I really, truly do love you with every bone that exists in my body.”

“I love you too,” he said it without hesitation. “And I’ll love you until we’re old and grey, I swear it.”

“Don’t hold me to that promise,” you murmured. “You know how bad this is. Stop thinking that I’ll make it into the new year. I probably wont.”

“You will if it kills me, Y/N,” he gave your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I’ll drain the bank dry if I have to, I swear to Ghezen.”

You didn’t say anything after, too exhausted to even think about starting an argument with him, simply not wanting to. 

But then, an hour later, Kaz felt fear trickle into his stomach like it hadn’t ever in his life.

“And then theres Supernova. It’s like a star that’s dying having it’s last celebration. Like when we get a really big win, or when we get away with what we intended to get away with, and we all get shitfaced before we collapse onto our beds and sleep for the night? A supernova is a dying stars explosion. It’s the last celebration that the star has before it dies out.” you’d been rambling.

“Tonight is my... tonight is my...” Kaz had called for Nina right then and there, screaming her name while he felt you go slack against him.

“Zenik!” He screamed, not caring at all if he were to wake up Jespers father. “Zenik, call in that fucking favor with the bloody Ravkan prince!” Matthias came barreling out after her, phone in hand, already speaking to someone as Nina began working, steadying your heart and trying her hardest to keep you alive. 

Kaz had to force himself to walk away from it all, pushing his feet away after giving your shoulders one last squeeze and walking far out into the field. 

Once he was sure he was out of earshot, he couldn’t stop himself. Tears flooded his eyes and he found himself glaring at the sky, wanting to scream, wanting to shout, wishing that there was someone around that he could gut like a fish. 

“Saints,” he murmured through gritted teeth. “Sankt Ilya, Sankt Adrik, Sankta Alina of The Fold, I know I am a terrible person, but Y/N is not. They’re good, they smile, they laugh, they’re kind to others when those people probably don’t deserve their kindness. I know I’m damned, I know that you probably strongly dislike me, but they’re different.” He’d never asked the Saints for anything before, and he never would again.

“Please, just, let them live. Let them get the life that they deserve. I’ll do my best to make them happy, but you have to let me,” he wiped the tears from his eyes as they came. “They deserve the life that you’re so willing to take away, and all I ask is that you don’t take it.” He heard the sounds of the ambulance car and raced back to you, gripping your hand as they helped you onto a stretcher and out of the field, through the house and out the entrance. 

I won’t lose them, he told himself. A world without them is one that’s unbearable. 

O N E Y E A R L A T E R 

You laughed as Nina chased you through the halls of the Little Palace, running quickly through the endless corridors, your laughter carrying through them as you kept yourself in front of Nina.

Nikolai had kept you in the Os Altan palace since that night, where Inej laughed and danced and did her flips, whilst Wylan played the piano and Kaz sat beside you, listening to your ramblings without a care in the world. 

“You seem delighted,” Nikolai noticed as you stopped in front of his office. “I’ve never seen you walk without that Brekker boy at your side, much less run while Zenik is on your tail!” You shrugged, laughing as Ninas front crashed into your back.

“This is the best I’ve felt in a year,” you murmured. “I figured I’d see if Nina was up to chase me around this morning, and I haven’t stopped running since!” You peered in through the open office door, looking for that familliar mop of dark brown hair.

Nina wrapped her arms around you and gave you a gentle squeeze. “He’ll be here any minute,” she murmured. “He and the boys are just finishing up a job for Nik in East Ravka, but Matthias told me the second that they’d left!”

“Trust me. Y/N,” Nikolais smooth voice murmured. “I put them on one of my fastest boats. I knew how long it’d take them to get from here to east Ravka and back, and I promised him he’d be here when you finally awoke.” 

“Hows it feel, anyway?” Zoya appeared at his side. “Eighteen, I mean.” You shrugged.

“I miss Kaz,” you murmured bluntly. “I hate that I have to tell him that he was right, but I still miss him.” 

Nikolai took Zoyas hand, pulling her close as you and Nina watched, smiles on your faces. 

“Young love,” Zoya teased. “Zenik, let go of them so that they can turn around.” Nina obeyed, letting you go and moving to lean against the doorway with Nikolai and Zoya. 

You turned, and smiled when your gazes met. “You were right, Brekker,” you murmured, walking toward him as he held out your gift to you. “I’m better now, and the second that you’re ready to spar, I’m gonna beat your ass, even though you’ve your cane as a weapon.” He grabbed your pinky with his the moment you were within distance.

“How’d the heist go?” You murmured once the two of you had walked out of earshot. 

“Good,” Kaz let himself be close to you as you two moved, squeezing your pinky as you slowed your steps. “Plan went off without a hitch, for three idiots and a mastermind with a limp. I brought you this from it,” he held the gift out to you again, and you took it in your free hand, examining it.

“I had to ask permission for that,” he murmured. “I had to get the Ravkan kings seal of approval to steal that for you.” You laughed, looking it over.

It was a journal. Black and leather bound, pages crisp and untouched. A pen was tucked into the cover. 

“I promise, we’ll go home soon,” you responded. “I miss Ketterdam. I could go for some waffles.” 

“Don’t they have waffles here?” Kaz questioned.

“Not Ketterdam waffles, love. Ketterdam waffles are unlike any pathetic waffle from here! Doused in syrup and whip cream--” You let out a satisfied sigh. “So good it’s almost surreal!” Kaz smirked.

“Waffle date when you’re well enough to return home then?” 

“Certainly.”

[t0shii]

how they comfort you in a crowded place

including bokuto kotaro, aran ojiro, miya atsumu, oikawa toru, suna rintaro x gn!r

!warnings! mentions of anxiety & large crowds, slight panic attack, mentions of flashing lights & cameras, lightly proofread.

BOKUTO KOTARO.

it might take him a minutes to realize you're feeling anxious or overwhelmed and as soon as he does realize he's asking you what he needs to do to help you. never lets go of your hand!

You loved that your boyfriend kotaro had so many supporters but sometimes it was a bit overwhelming. for example, right now you both were arriving at the gym for the match his volleyball team was playing that night. fans basically swarmed your car and even the security guards were having a hard time holding them back.

you could feel yourself start to panic as they inched closer and closer, squeezing your eyes shut as you hooked your arm around your boyfriend's. at first he thought nothing of it, until he looked back at you and saw your eyes closed, face looking a little pale, sweat forming on your forehead. he took your hand immediately and pulled you securely under his arm, leaning down to your ear, "we're almost to the gym baby, just a little bit longer. im so sorry." he said to you, kissing the top of your head right after which only seemed to make the fans go even more wild.

he hugged you real tight as soon as you both got into the gym and apologized repeatedly, didn't let you leave his sight until you were feeling better but gave you space whenever you asked for it.

ARAN OJIRO.

knows you can get anxious in a large crowd so he tries his very best to avoid large crowds of fans or reporters. is really protective of you and WILL give anyone who tries to get too close the dirtiest look you didnt even know he was capable of.

Unfortunately, the gym his game was taking place it, was surrounded by fans. "i thought i specifically asked for a blocked area?" he complained to the driver. "i think theres just too many fans to control" the driver responded, looking for the drop off spot. "i'm so sorry angel, i told them to have a blocked off area for us" he explained, grabbing your hand and squeezing it tightly. you reassured him it was fine and there as nothing he could've done about the situation and that you should be fine because the gym wasn't so far away.

as soon as you two stepped out of the car it was absolute chaos. fans screaming for aran, reporters cameras flashing repeatedly yelling questions at him, trying their very best to get close to him. the secure guards were doing there best to hold them off though. all you could do was close your eyes and let your boyfriend lead the way, he never once let go of your hand the whole way there.

as soon as you got into the gym he checked to make sure you were okay, asking if you needed anything. "i'm fine ojiro, really, i'm okay." you assured him, kissing his cheek. he embraced you in a big hug. "i'm so proud of you angel." said with a smile into the crook of your neck.

MIYA ATSUMU.

oh lord... we all know how he feels about obnoxious fans LMAO. good luck to them if they make you uncomfortable in any way ESPECIALLY if they get too close. tsumu knows you hate crowds and he tries so hard to avoid them at any cost possible.

"What the fuck is this?" he mumbled at he saw the crowd forming by the drop off area, "i'm not sure sir but there really isnt time to wait, the rest of the team's' cars are behind us." the driver responded earning a groan from your boyfriend. "'m sorry, baby" he whined looking at you with glossy eyes. "no no, it's okay 'tsum. it's not your fault. the gym's not too far anyways, i think i'll make it." you joke intertwining your hands. he nods in response and both exit the car.

seconds later fans rushed toward the two of you, screaming for 'tsumu and flashing their camera. honestly you were fine until you looked over and a teenage girl was right beside you all in your personal space, atsumu never noticing because he was so focused on getting to the gym as soon as possible. "tsumu-", he turned his head towards you as soon as he heard you say his name. he immediately s aw the girl trying to get his attention was all over you so he pulled you away from her, put you infront of him and ignored her the rest of the way to gym. it was really like a scene from a movie

as soon as the two of you stepped in the gym he was making sure you were okay and asking if you needed anything. he hugged you really tight and apologized for all the people. "'m so sorry that girl baby i dont know what her deal was, she was all over you, not cool at all. should i make sure they don't let her in the gym? i don't want her anywhere near you." you chuckled at his question, "no 'tsum, she probably didn't even realize what she was doing. i'm okay now, really." he nodded his head at your response, "as long as you're okay." he said nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

OIKAWA TORU.

he loves the attention he gets from his fans but he will always always put your safety before their attention & dont let anyone else tell you otherwise. hates when his fans gets too close to you and when they crowd around the both of you, he didn't mind it before the two of you got together but when you told him you didn't like crowds he always does his best to avoid them.

"looks like there's a crowd toru." you say with a pout. "whaaat?" he groaned looking up from his phone. why did they have to follow the two of you to the airport? he thought to himself. he just wanted to get on the plane in peace. "oh no." he sighed looked at all the fans who had lined up to send the two of you off, luckily it the crowed wasn't too big considering it was 4 in the morning.

"i'm so sorry angel, i didn't think they'd follow us here this early," he explained with a frown."no no toru, it's not your fault at all! don't apologize" you assure him, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "let me step out and tell them to keep their distance." you nodded and he stepped oit

you giggled as you hear him ask his fans to stay away from you when you exit the car he. stays out and chats with the fans for a few minutes before it was time to go into the airport. fortunately his fans were super understanding and chill when you stepped out of the car, saying hi to you and wishing you both a safe flight. he still made sure you were okay even though the fans kept their distance like they promised and pampered your face im kisses filled with love and a whispered, "im so proud of you angel."

SUNA RINTARO.

god he hates crowds himself so he completely understands you. he doesnt like when fans crowd him and especially when they crowd around you since he knows it makes you anxious.

"just stay close okay?" your boyfriend mumbled in your ear as he took your hand and helped out of the car. you responded with a quiet "mhm". i hate these people, he thought to himself. not only did he already hate crowds, he hated when there was a crowd around you. honestly, you couldn't even see straight because of all the flashing cameras and it didn't help that all the fans around were pushing in closer and closer, the two of you could barely even move as it was. all you could do was squeez your eyes shut and pray you got to the gym faster than the fans could trample over you to get a an autograph or a picture from your boyfriend.

rintaro was squeezing your hand so tightly by the time you both stepped into the gym you thought your hand was gonna fall off and you could barely even control your breathing, he immediately pulled you into an embrace, not too tight though, kissing the crown of your head and rubbing your back soothingly, "im so sorry baby, you did so well." was all he said over and over again, trying his best to ease you while his teammates stumbled in behind the two of you complaining about the crowd.

after your breathing had calmed down he gave you space whenever you wanted it making sure to check up on you periodically. "im okay now rin, you can go practice now." you reassure him, with a kiss on the cheek of course. he agreed after a while but was still worried about you the whole practice and for most of the game after that.

a/n omg i rlly like writing for aran AHH ok ummmm thanks for reading p.s. oikawa would be so chill with his fans after highschool UGH everyone says theyre rude but i hc the opposite 😌😤

[reyski]

hi rey! i saw your requests are open and I have a kinda specific one- if you don't mind writing it of course, if you this somehow goes against your rules. but my ask is can your write a platonic kurapika x reader where kurapika is kind of like a big brother to the reader cause they share a lot of similarities (not personality wise more like their clan/family was also hunted cause they were considered valuable?) Thanks Rey :))

hello! this is such a cute idea, i decided to do small headcanons, i hope you like! also, apologies for not uploading very much right now <33

kurapika as an older brother

pairing: platonic! kurapika x reader

media: hunter x hunter

content warnings: angst maybe?

notes: i actually don’t have an older brother, but i tried my best to imagine what it would be like with kurapika

➵ kurapika, like the observationalist he is, noticed that you tended to steer away from sharing about your childhood or family. though, he had never suspected that your experiences were so similar. 

➵ you hadn’t been expecting to tell anyone about your tragic history, but when you saw kurapika being engulfed by grief from the past you decided to share it with him. 

➵ it doesn’t matter how much of your story you want to share with him, kurapika takes solace in whatever you disclose to him about your shared trauma. he doesn’t mind if you’re a bit closed off about the subject, and is very understanding of the grief that accompanies reliving the past. however, if you decide to go into detail kurapika is content in listening to you, reminding himself that there are others who share a similar pain. 

➵ although he doesn’t notice it at first, kurapika begins to seek your company more often. beginning with offering his help with anything you might need, with him only a phone call away. if you do take him up on the offer he is pleased that he’s able to help you in some way. however, if you don’t put it past kurapika to just show up out of the blue (whenever he has the chance to get away from work of course). 

➵ at times when he can’t see you for multiple weeks or months in a row you can expect at least a couple check-in calls, just to see what you’re doing and if you need anything.

➵ over time kurapika will open up more about the death of his clan, wanting to help you the same way that you helped him. after talking to you for the first time about his past, kurapika finds that speaking with someone he trusts, that shares similar experiences, is very therapeutic. just another reason that you might be getting impromptu visits or calls from him. though he always asks you before talking/venting about the past, making sure he’s not going to trigger you in any way. 

➵ admittedly, kurapika is not the best at taking care of himself, but if you happen to fall into any kind of slump or depression kurapika takes as much time as he can afford to come stay with you. it might not be for very long and it might come at weird hours (depending on his work schedule) but he’s going to be there to remind you to brush your teeth and take a shower while he runs out to get some food. 

➵ if you ever decide to return the favor of popping in on kurapika or taking care of him he’s a little taken back. he wont complain of course but you cant blame him for being a little skeptical of your motives, since he hasn’t had someone genuinely dote on him in so long cue crying. but once he realizes that you just want to make sure he’s doing ok he’s going to be thinking about it for a while, just being grateful for your care. 

➵ kurapika is definitely the type to have a little hanging calendar that he writes special dates on. theres not a lot on it because he’s generally pretty good at keeping track of everything. however, he does make sure to put your birthday on it, along with all his other friends of course. kurapika’s very thoughtful but sometimes he decides just to ask you what you want, not wanting to give you something that you wont enjoy. even if he can’t be there to give your gift to you in person he’s definitely sending it in the mail with a handwritten card inside. 

➵ kurapika ends up becoming pretty protective over you, as he does with all his friends, however, it seems a little different this time. he knows that you’re aware of the terrible parts of the world, and have been able to take care of yourself. at least he tries to tell himself that. but when he thinks of all the awful things that could happen to you the anxiousness takes over and he’s calling you every night to make sure your door’s locked.

➵ he’s thought about offering to give you a little instruction on how to defend yourself but he always feels like he’s overstepping your boundaries so he never brings it up. 

➵ bonus: if you decide to get married and ask kurapika to walk you down the aisle or be the best man, warmth pools in his chest and he remembers how much he loves you. 

thank you for the request!! this was really heartwarming

if you would like to request please take a look at my guidelines which outline the genres i write for each character. also, you can find all other works in my masterlists -- both guidelines and masterlists can be found on my directory!

have a good day/night loves <3 make sure to eat some food and drink some water ily

[taegyuun]

random headcannons with riki <3

genre: whatever comes to my mind about the one and only nishimura riki :D

warnings: swearing

note: i wrote this during my french and religious studies class so if parts of it doesn’t make sense it’s bc i had to listen to french and something about christianity and jesus LMAOO - i am also aware that this may seem similar to @emgene post that was not my intention i think we just had similar ideas

hes on his phone 24/7 like a true gen z but he NEVER replies to texts

probably leaves you on seen most of the time

i think the only time he replies to your texts is simply bc he wants smth or hes stuck somewhere

“riki i’m off shopping and then going to a café want to come?” - you 3 weeks ago

“alright” - riki today.

it’s a pain but well what can you do

sometimes you will literally call him bc he still hasn’t answered your text and he’s like “what” AND YOURE JUST STOOD AT HIS DOOR LIKE “NISHIMURA. ANSWER MY DAMN TEXTS” so he ends the call and replies with “ok”

as annoying as it is with him not replying

i feel like hes really really good on the phone?

like he always keeps the conversation going and he’s super sweet to talk to

me thinks niki hates texting but loves being on the phone with you

when you two go shopping together it’s so cute plssss

omg i have this specific imagine in mind where you’re like pushing the shopping cart and hes got his hands in his coat pockets while standing near you

and you’re like looking at the products and he just follows your lead bc babi confused

STOP THATSKAIFOAOROW IM GONNA EXPLODE

whenever you’re doing smth he will sneak up behind you and scare you

it’s his entertainment

randomly appears in your house out of nowhere

you go for days not seeing him and then he just waltzes into your room like it’s nothing

casually says “hey” before laying down on your bed and going back to his phone

at first you were like “what the fuck is going on and how did you get in” and he’d just be like “door”

after a while you got used to it and never get surprised when you hear your door opening

when you’re alone hes pretty clingy

idk he just loves you a lot ok

and he doesn’t get to see you that often bc of his super super busy schedule so whenever you’re alone he just melts and clings to you

that’s probably why he storms into your room and house at random times

your parents are completely fine with it tbh

he has them wrapped around his finger LOOOOOL

but when you’re with other people... he acts like he hates you

nah i’m kidding

hes exactly the same just not as cuddly bc he doesn’t feel like getting teased bc teasing the members is his job not the other way round >:(

if you’re laying down on your bed he probably crawls onto the bed before just falling down on top of you

why? you may be asking?

well

idk tbh

he probably just does it bc he likes annoying you but he’s also close to you at the same time

hes a clingy sleeper everyone knows that

when he sleeps with you hes just gonna CLING to you for dear life

if you do need to get out somehow just tickle him or violently push him off idk you decide which one sounds better

even in his sleep he’ll let go LOL

but it’ll probably wake him up and when he sees that you’re getting out of bed and leaving him he’ll whine and bc he’s still half asleep he’ll probably be whining in japanese stop that’s so CUTE and just try and bring you back down to bed :(((

he’ll probably force you to lay back down and then just wrap his arms super tightly around you and bury his face in your neck and kiss your neck softly like i said in my niki as bf bc he loves you oh so much :(

teaches you japanese if you don’t know the language and you teach him yours !!

definitely teaches you the swear words first or like really rude things and tell you they mean shit like “i like flowers” LMFAOO

jay will be just standing there like 👁👄👁 but doesn’t say anything bc he likes seeing both of you so happy and he doesn’t want to ruin rikis fun :(

tickles you

he’ll come up behind you and back hug you and while he’s got his arms around you he just TICKLES AWWW THATS SO CUTE

loves seeing you smile and laugh

it’s his goal in life to see you smiling

and the fact that hes the reason behind it??? oh my god he can’t help but smile super wide himself

definitely teaches you how to dance

if you didn’t already know how to hes gonna make sure that by the end of the month you know how to move like a dancer

if you ARE a dancer he’ll teach you the hardest dances he can possibly think of LOOOL

omg yall dancing would be so cute stop

will laugh at you if you have 2 left feet ofc theres no denying that

but will also be a great teacher

the members are your guys’ no. 1 supporters

they love your relationship so much

it makes them super happy to see their youngest so so happy bc of a single person

they can see when hes more upset bc you’re not there and it breaks their heart

so they always try their hardest to get you to be there and vice versa

you’re always at dance practices

and yes he does try just that bit harder to make his dances look even better bc he wants you to be impressed by him

and no matter the dance you’re always in awe bc how does someone move like that

he likes being praised by you

it makes him warm inside

so pls praise him a lot

not too much tho bc it’ll get to his head LMFAO

one this that he will love doing that he finds really cute and domestic is doing homework together

he did say he missed going to school and having a normal school life so if you let him do your homework with you he’ll love you forever

he lays his head on your lap and doesn’t even realise he’s doing it

you’re just on your phone and he lays down and gets comfy

he only realises what he did when you start playing with his hair or when you move his head so you can get up or whatever

but once you sit back down you make sure to but his head back into your lap bc BABY

definitely turns red and hides his face in your tummy :(( or if he’s feeling cool then he’ll pretend like he’s not bothered and if you ask him why he’s blushing he’ll be like “blushing??? pffftttt! me?? never!” and jjst goes back to his phone but you know better

anyway i might add more to this when i get more ideas it’s just for the things that i imagine him doing but i don’t have enough ideas to make full scenarios out of them !

[littlemisslipbalm]

Little Border Town Pt. II

Summary: Harry starts to find himself more and more drawn to the bookshop owner. She’s maybe not as annoying as he first thought. And maybe Harry isn’t the worst like she thought either. A little notebook, drinks, shoes, and a boat begin to show each other that. 

AKA: Harry and Y/N are neighbors that fight all the time, the whole town wants to know when they’ll just fuck. 

ello loves,  part 2 is finally here pls let me know what you think!! barely proofread sorry... also i think theres gonna be quite a few parts to this because i keep not getting all i want to say said in each part. and im trying to keep the chunks relatively short. — also I made one direction lowkey exist bahaha

Word Count: 9.2k | Warnings: flirty fighting/banter, slowburn 

Part 1

-

The next day Harry found himself walking into the bookshop next door without really thinking about it. He hadn’t seen Y/N again for his early morning run and he had his list for her of the Paul Simon albums he already had. They hadn’t had their windows or shades open last night either so it was the first night he didn’t give her a salute and she didn’t flip him off. The jostle in routine seemed a little weird to him so as he walked through the shop's door and the bell sounded, he thought the smile on his face was because he was well rested and unbothered by anything.

Y/N had slept in this morning. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but the beginning of Fall always put her in a cozy sleepy mood. She wanted to go to a pumpkin patch and watch a fire burn out in a fireplace. She wanted to listen to her halloween playlist and plan out an intricate costume with her friends. All of this was a wistful dream though. She had quickly learned that the little border town didn’t celebrate Halloween how they did in the States or any major cities. It was okay, at the end of the day, even if she was a little bummed about it. This was her new life and she would have to adapt to the new customs.

After she walked downstairs and unlocked the door, she went back over to her front counter. Yesterday, right when Harry had come in, she had found a booklet of Marie’s. It was leafed over to the point that all the pages were crinkled and dirtied from hand debris. Each page was filled with her loopy handwriting, all of it in French. She must have only liked blue pens because even if the type changed over different pages, the color was always blue. Each page was headed with a name, a customer’s name Y/N was starting to realize as she leafed through the pages. She sat back on the wooden stool she had gotten for behind the counter and propped the book in her hand. After the name of the customer there were extensive details on them. Not their purchases specifically, but their preferences, their personality, and just tidbits about any quirks they had or interesting things Marie had decided were of note.

She found many names that were now familiar to her after her few months of living in the little border town. There really weren't that many people to get to know and the tourists were starting to die down now that the school year was getting back in. After a few minutes of pouring over Monsieur Friedfrickson’s page, who lives across the street from her and runs the flower and gardening supplies shop, she flips to an even more familiar name’s page.

“Harry Styles.” The page had the name written out in strong tall letters. Marie had used a blue inky pen for his page, not a ballpoint. “Likes Music. Poetry. Love stories. Romance with a happy ending, but also likes the practical love too.” The interests are laid out plain and she purses her lips at the idea that Harry is interested in romance novels. She wondered what type of poetry he liked since Marie didn’t seem to think that had to be elaborated on. “He’s a special one,” it reads and Y/N scoffs to herself, really Marie? She reads on, “His heart is in the right place, but he’s got a mouth on him. Quick-witted and charming, but kind-hearted and sincere.” She pauses, and flicks the page back and forth, checking that it still reads Harry’s name when she gets back to it. Was she really the only one who found Harry vapid and annoying? Sure she had softened a little towards him since she had arrived, but they were by no means friends. “While seemingly perfect in every way, Harry is actually-” it reads and she mutters to herself, “Ok, now we’re getting somewhere.” “While seemingly perfect in every way, Harry is actually scared of his own shadow.” “This can’t be real!” She once again scoffs at the book and looks up to the ceiling like Marie is going to talk back to her from beyond. “His exterior persona is very strong, both physically and in his personality, but it seems like he’s just waiting for that right person that he can really be vulnerable with and let them into what he’s really thinking. He’s looking for his Angie.” Now she’s just confused. Who the fuck is Angie? She almost doesn’t finish reading the page because honestly it’s just making her mad, but there’s only a few more lines. “Lots of tattoos, why so many tattoos? Thinks he’s funnier than he is. Flamboyant Harry is best.” And beside that last sentence is a star. She tries to hold in her laughter. At least it wasn’t a complete page of praise for Harry.

Thinking back to her knowledge of Harry, she realizes that Marie must have known him for about three years. Maybe more if he had come to visit before moving there officially. She agreed with Marie that Harry had a lot of tattoos and that he thinks he’s funnier than he truly is, but she was yet to see flamboyant Harry. She knew he painted his nails and wore rings, as well as interesting clothes, but she wouldn’t say he was particularly flamboyant for any of that. That comment definitely piqued her interest. When would Marie have seen Harry where he was being flamboyant?

Her eyes scan over the page once more and realize that this book is only for the most current year. Marie re-did the customers' outlines every year. So this was this past year before Marie died. She wondered where the other books might be and if Harry’s outline had changed over time and also if her name was in the one from when she had visited. That would be interesting to read. It’s strange to read a dead person’s private musings. To her knowledge, no one else alive knew the contents of these pages and these pages seemed especially personal since they spoke of people’s lives and who they were at their core. Maybe that’s why she didn’t hear the chime of the door this morning when the first customer arrived.

Her eyes don’t shoot up from the page until two ringed hands enter her eye line on the counter. The tanned skin, with the gold and silver dazzling rings on each finger and the cross tattoo all register in her mind as her eyes go wide. She snaps the book shut when her eyes meet Harry’s almost ivy green eyes - they’re darker in the foggy fall light streaming through the window today. She hadn’t even turned on the lights yet in the store, the natural light being enough for her this morning. The book is clutched in her hands as Harry’s smile widens to a grin of amusement.

“What have you got there?”

There’s no cover on the book so he can’t make anything out about it. He assumes it’s some novel she’s embarrassed of and has chosen to slip the cover off of to keep anonymity of it. This assumption is why his tone is so teasing and why she grimaces at him in response. Her cheeks have also tinted themselves, she’s flustered that the man she had just been conversing about with the book was now in the store.

“None of your business.”

“I guess not.” He replies easily when she responds curtly and places the book out of sight somewhere under the countertop.

“Why are you here again?” She’s avoiding his eye contact now, feeling like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t have been even though it was perfectly within her right to read something that now belonged to her.

Harry’s smile falters with her followed curt reply. Annoyance settling in, Harry straightens up and removes his hands from the counter. The familiar feeling doesn’t exactly feel nice, but familiarity is better than discomfort. “You wanted a list of my Paul Simon records? So you could order me one I didn’t already have?”

She looks at him curiously as the conversation comes back to her from yesterday morning and she nods. That conversation was real. “Oh yeah, I said that.” She replies, still not looking at him. “Okay,” she says when he doesn’t move or do anything. Her eyes widen, silently asking him to get on with it.

His hands shove into his pockets, searching around for a list he apparently had made. They come out empty. He pats over his jacket pockets and feels nothing but his phone and wallet, no list. “Fuck,” he mutters beneath his breath. She scratches at her eyebrow and sits back on her stool, seeming like she might be waiting awhile. After a few more minutes and no produced list, she sighs. “Do you just want to go next door and grab it since you obviously forgot it?”

“I didn’t forget it…” His voice is low and he shoots a glare at her, the annoyance that had come back had now doubled.

“You did, but it’s okay if you can’t admit that-”

“It must have fallen out of my pocket!” He insists.

She rolls her eyes and stands up. Walking to the front door, she looks on the ground and then a little ways outside. “I don’t see it, just go back and get it. You probably left it in your boudoir, it’s fine.” Her tone is a little less condescending now and more understanding. She forgets stuff all the time and she really wasn’t trying to be rude when he first came in. He had just startled her is all.

He turns around to face her. Her body is now completely out in the open area of the front of the store. His head tilts and one of his loose curls flops over his forehead while he takes in her appearance. “Why do you do that?”

She wets her lips and steps closer to him, more on her way back to the counter than anything. “Do what?” She’s oblivious to what he’s taken note of.

“When you have a conversation in English you’ll swap in some words that are French. They’re easy words to figure out and you don’t do it a lot, but you’ve done it enough times for me to notice.”

“Oh...I don’t know. I prefer French to English. It’s so much sexier.” She walks closer to him and utters her next sentence as she brushes past his shoulder. His gaze follows her every movement. “Would you prefer a girl to whisper in your ear, “let’s go back to my bedroom” or “let’s go back to my boudoir.”?” Her French accent hangs in the air with the word and compared to the hard American accent she had employed for ‘bedroom’, ‘boudoir’ sounds far more dirty this time than before.

A shiver rolls down Harry’s spine, but he doesn’t let it show. She shrugs her shoulders, “I think the answer is clear.” He clears his throat in response and a smile grows on her face. “Don’t you agree, monsieur?” She leans her head into her hand now that she’s behind the counter and looks up at him sweetly. He knows she’s teasing him now, her smile more of a sultry smirk.

“Piccola diavola,” his Italian rolls off his tongue and she squints at his words. She knows “devil” but the first word troubles her - it just means little. Her Italian really wasn’t strong and it hadn’t improved that much since she’d been in the little border town. But she also wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of asking what he had said. Harry chuckles at her confusion and relaxes now that he feels the playing field has leveled once again.

“So your list… Do you want to go grab it? Or if you can just list it off the top of your head? As enthralling as your conversation skills are, I actually don’t have all day.” She trails off again, her questions lilting from her mouth after regaining some composure.

“I wasn’t the one teasing about taking someone up to their bedroom,” he huffs. Her face colors with crimson. While she had been teasing him, she didn’t want to be called out for it.

“Wasn’t teasing…”

“So it was a serious offer?” He inquires with a lop-sided grin, changing the meaning behind her words in one fellow swoop.

“That’s not what I was saying! Shut up and give me your list.” Now her blush was all over her face and neck, and she was totally and completely flustered by Harry.  She glanced down at her hands that were fiddling with a pen and paper, ready to write his words down.

“I can either shut up or tell you my list. But it’s sadly one or the other, love.”

She groans and takes her free hand to run it over her face. “Just tell me what you already have, Harry. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles and spreads out his hands in front of them both. He crosses back to the counter and leans on it once more. They are in close proximity once again, only the counter between them now and she can feel his hot breath fan over her softly. Smells of wintergreen gum, her favorite.

She glances up at him and their eyes hook together for a moment before she tears hers away to look back at the paper. He rattles off a good amount of Paul Simon’s albums and she nods approvingly as she scribbles the names down. She would have to look through his discography to find the ones Harry didn’t have and she probably could’ve made Harry do that and then give her that list, but she didn’t. It was too late now to do that as well, so she’d just have to live with her decision.

When he finishes, she glances at him once again. His eyes are very large. A detail that isn’t really important about him is seared in her mind. They’re big and they’re staring right at her. His pupils are almost as big as his irises, it was interesting. Her eyes shift under his gaze after a beat and she straightens up again. While they went over his list, she had indulged in the close proximity, the mingling of warm breath and brushed hands as she scribbled and he pondered. She nods a farewell, “I’ll let you know when I order next, but I won’t say what album you’ll get. It will be a surprise.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you,” his smile snaps back to his face and he scratches absentmindedly at his side. He hesitates before exiting the store. “I have a question.”

“Don’t need my permission.”

He emits a half-laugh, half-scoff from his parted lips. “Wasn’t asking for it...How come you never go out?”

She stares at him curiously, her head tilting to the right. “How would you know I don’t get out?” She challenges him.

“There’s only one pub in this little town and I’m your next door neighbor. I know.” He’s insistent on being right.

She scoffs, but only in an attempt to cover up her embarrassment. Her skin had finally cooled from all the excitement that had happened earlier and she wasn’t in the mood to grow red once again. Today was the first day she had ever felt flustered by Harry. It was annoying, it made her feel out of control. She liked to go out well enough, maybe more than the average person. But she’d only been in the little border town for a few months and going out hadn’t been on the top of her list of things to do. Sure, it would be nice to go get a drink out in the town, but she didn’t really have anyone to go with. Meeting people wasn’t hard in the town, but there weren't many people who were her age and she hadn’t particularly clicked with anyone where she would want to go out on the town with them. It was embarrassing to face the fact that she wasn’t flourishing as much as she had hoped. She was happy, but being confronted with the truth that she hadn’t gone out yet dampened her belief in her success in the little border town.

“I - It’s not at the top of my list of priorities,” she stutters, her chin raising a little in indignance.

One of his shoulders shrugs and Harry makes a little face as if he was indifferent to her answer, even though she knew much better than that. Harry always wanted to get a reaction out of her, maybe that was all he gained from their interactions - entertainment. She didn’t know, but she didn’t feel like giving him the satisfaction and left it at that. His eyes meet hers again, his stare far more intense now. “Ciao, diavola.” He simpers, repeating the little nickname. It was far more sultry of a nickname than ‘Shrimp’ but she wasn’t going to complain. She rolls her eyes in response, the only correct one at that.

-

That night, she found herself feeling pulled to journey down to the pub. It was on the Italian side and like she had acknowledged to Harry, she hadn’t been. She wouldn’t admit to anyone, especially not Harry, that his question had been what had pushed her towards the establishment when night fell. Yet, here she was. Her pants were dark red silk that matched the black tank top with red embellishments that she wore over her chest - the only part of her it really covered. Her boots were a matching black with gold metal bits, they were knock-off horsebit Gucci shoes, the closest she could get to the real thing with her modest budget. She was having to be more frugal lately, after buying her car here in September, she had really seen how little money she truly had.

The heels of her boots clicked against the cobblestones as she stalked up to the front of the bar. There was happy chatter seeping out the open door, the warm but dimmed light also flooding out along with the sounds of people within. Taking a deep breath and fiddling with the waistband of her pants for a second, she made her way into the bar. Stepping off the deep end and making the plunge. She knew there was nothing to be afraid of, but after months of not going there, she felt a little sense of apprehension now.

The warmth was the most surprising bit of the bar that she felt when she stepped past the threshold. Some Italian song was buzzing below the words of the patrons and she smiled at the automatic welcome she felt upon entering.

At the tables, there was a mix of younger and older patrons. At the bar, there wasn’t much of anyone. The young bartender leans across the bar to talk to another man, who had dark brown wavy hair and a dark linen shirt on. He’s seated at the bar and his back is to her so she can’t make out anymore than that. She doesn’t notice the myriad of tattoos gracing the patron’s arm that rests casually on the bar as he laughs at something the bartender had said, just for him.

She smiles, thinking it’s a cute little flirtation between the two and hates that she has to go over to break it up. Her movement gets the bartender’s attention easily and has the patron glancing her way as well. The smile she had once had falters off of her face and her eyes go wide at the realization of who she has settled herself beside. She had left a seat open between her and the man, but now she wished she had chosen a spot across the bar and simply flagged down the bartender. Better yet, she wished she had stayed home. As her smile falls away, Harry’s only grows wider. He’s grinning down at her as he moves his whole body to face her.

“Ciao!” The bartender starters, not noticing her discomfort at seeing Harry. He begins to ask what she would like in Italian, but her eyes widen even further. He’s speaking far too fast for her and she blushed in embarrassment. In her fluster, she forgets to even try French and she just stares dumbfoundedly at the handsome man behind the bar, who’s now looking at her with great curiosity. Harry has watched the entire thing and chuckles behind his glass. She has no attention span left to allow her to even try and guess what he’s drinking.

He interjects for her, actually saving her any more embarrassment, surprisingly. “She doesn’t speak Italian. She’s from the French side and new in town, so she hasn’t been able to refine her Italian.” The bartender gives a smile and nod of understanding in her way and she wishes she knew what Harry had just said. Whatever it is makes the bartender switch to French for her and her jaw goes from being dropped back into a normal position.

“What can I get for you, mademoiselle?” He transitions smoothly and she smiles, his French accent sounding practically perfect. She’s recomposed herself, but Harry is still watching her intently, like a reality television show that he can’t wait for the trainwreck finale to occur on.

After she orders, the bartender gives her a wink and then walks off to get what he needs to begin preparing her drink. Harry slides over, eliminating the courteous one seat between them. Her eyes watch the movement and she refrains from the letting out the sigh festering in her chest. She really had hoped he would not be here tonight, at least that’s what she believed. She truly felt embarrassed that the night after Harry had accused her of never going out, he had seen her out. But it also was nice not to be sitting in the bar alone. It seemed that Harry had been sitting alone at the bar before she had come in,  but she also wasn’t Harry and didn’t know how much enjoyment she would have  gotten out of being alone.

“I see my words had some effect on you.” He says out of the corner of his mouth after running his tongue over the bottom of his lip. Her scoff once again dies in her throat because she knows he’s right and he knows it too. There is no being proud right now. He essentially caught her red handed.

“Thought I’d come out and see what all the fuss was about. I see you’re alone tonight, but I assume that’s how most nights go.”

“You should know by now that is simply not true.”

“Just because you leave with someone doesn’t mean you come with someone.”

“I guess…” He trails off.

She picks up when he doesn’t seem to have any more of a response. “How do you even meet people here? Isn’t it all locals?”

“Not always. Not all of the people here are locals tonight,” He scans the crowd. “She’s visiting...So is she...that whole group actually. Look French. So we’ve got a group from Nice tonight…” He looks a bit more. “Eh, that looks like it tonight, but still. It’s plenty.” He finishes with a smirk and she grimaces, understanding the meaning behind his words.

The bartender returns with her White Russian, which Harry had cocked his head at, but had kept his opinion to himself for once. Expecting Roman to return to their conversation, Harry turns his attention back to him, but he is only greeted with the side of his head because Roman is still staring at Y/N. He coos something to her in French, that Harry can’t pick up and his nostrils flare when she emits a giggle following their exchange. The two people he was last talking to were now ignoring him to talk to each other. How rude.

After another moment without their attention, he huffs loudly. Roman seems too entranced in Y/N to notice, but her eyes slide over to him. “Yes?” She inquires, albeit disdainfully.

Harry isn’t sure what to say to her now that he’s gained her attention. He was on his second drink and her stare has made his mind go blank. All he had wanted was for her to stop flirting with Roman so that she’d pay attention to him. But he hadn’t thought of his next step yet. He takes a sip of his beer to grant him a little more time and she rolls her eyes at his action. His mind rattles through possible things to say, but every single one is coming up as not good enough.

“I used to be in a band.”

Her head tilts and she swivels more to Harry. His comment is unexpected and rather intriguing. She had expected something annoying or rude. Truly she had just expected him to say “Nothing” once he had swallowed his drink so he could distract her from enjoying her night.

“You were in a band?” She asks incredulously, her voice pitching slightly higher than normal. While Harry was many things, including handsome, she just didn’t think he had the right persona to be in a band. He dressed like a grandfather most days and he tended to a little shoe shop, he didn’t come off as a guy who would enjoy traveling around performing. The constant praise would be on brand though, she conceded.

Harry nods and bites back his smile, knowing he had struck the perfect chord. “I was...it only took off in the UK but we were pretty popular.” He boasts.

“So what do you play?”

Harry’s eyes widen, expecting more of a question about the name of the band or something. “Well, it was, like, a boy band…” He says.

She was taking a sip of her drink and she contained her little laugh behind her glass. Another hum as she swallows the liquid that burns her throat a bit. “Oh. Interesting. So no instruments.”

“Well I can play a bit of guitar and piano!” He adds quickly, seeing her eyes shift away from him, like she thinks the conversation is over. “I was thinking of trying a solo thing, but then plans changed...”

“And now you’re here?”

He echoes her, affirming the question. “Now I’m here and I’m not leaving.”

“You don’t miss it then?”

“Didn’t say that. I miss it at times, but this is where my life took me and I’m happy to be here. Maybe happier than I ever was in the band.” His eyes stare at the liquid in his glass and he swirls it lightly, determined to study the way it moves as he ponders something quite personal to him. He never really talked about his past with anyone here. Saying he was in a band and retrospecting that time are two very different things to share with someone. She’s just watching him now, not trying to make a quip or bug him. His demeanor shows that’s not something he’s very interested in hearing right now.

She experimentally puts a finger on his knee when it seems that he’ll never raise his gaze from his glass. His eyes move down to the tiny pressure he feels and sees her painted nail poking in to him. His tongue darts across his lower lip as he raises his head to meet her eyes. He notices the sparkle in them, she finds amusement in the childish gesture and so does he.

“I do miss the stage though,” he admits, smiling more now. “Performing. It was like nothing else.” Instead of a sad state of mind, his look is far more wistful now and she actually feels the smile growing on her face.

“You’ll have to sing for me sometime, then.” She says resolutely after taking the last bit of her drink and then pushing the glass across the bar. Roman had wandered off, much to Harry’s pleasure, but now they both needed another round so she was looking for him.

Harry slides over a chair so that they’re sat side by side. He had originally done it to reach across her for a napkin, but then hadn’t retreated to his original seat after he was successful. They talk as they drink, but most of it seems to be flirtatious teasing even if neither of them recognize that fully. Harry just wanted her attention earlier and now he found that he wanted to keep talking to her all night. It was a Friday and usually he would be looking for someone to take home. The group of women at a table that he had observed were visitors would be a perfect place to start his quest, but that wasn’t on his mind. He liked watching the different shades of blush Y/N’s face kept turning as she drank more and how silly she was getting with each passing drink.

She was enjoying her time out, she had only gotten wine drunk in the confines of her little home since she’d been in the little border town. And that endeavour was all by herself. It was much more fun when you had someone to talk to, so joking around with Harry was a nice surprise. She no longer felt embarrassed about showing up after he had teased her for never going out earlier today. Now she felt empowered, like she could come to the bar whenever she pleased. He was nicer than she had realized. His hand was quick to encircle her back respectfully when she laughed a little too hard at a joke and began to tip off her stool. His smile was genuine and his eyes didn’t flit over her body more than once. His jokes were funnier than she had first thought or maybe that was just the alcohol clouding her mind, that one she wasn’t sure about. But, truthfully, Harry was exceeding expectations tonight and being a stand up human being for once, in her eyes.

A couple at the end of the bar, locals, watched on as the shoemaker and the bookkeeper threw back their heads in boisterous laughter and placed their hands on each other chastely. The older women smiled to themselves as Y/N smacked Harry’s bicep after an especially cheeky joke he told her. They were going to have a field day with this interaction once they told their friends tomorrow morning.

After drink three, she definitely felt drunk. Not completely out of it and can’t walk drunk, but I haven’t drank anything stronger than wine in months so three cocktails are kind of hitting me drunk. And because of that buzz that’s enclosed her mind and body, it makes perfect sense to her that Harry’s hand is resting casually on her knee as they talk. It also makes perfect sense to her to cross her legs, causing two things to happen. Harry’s hand shifts up further on her thigh and her boot is now dangling right next to Harry’s shin. The fabric of his cream linen trousers look especially soft and so the next logical move in her mind is to rub her foot against the fabric. She hooks around her foot easily and the patent leather of her shoe slips softly against the pant leg that flows over Harry’s calf.

He hums lowly at the feeling, but makes no other notion to acknowledge what she is doing. After the hum he gets back to the story he’s telling her about his boat. She had been extremely interested in the boat initially, but not she was transfixed on the feeling of the fabric slipping past her boot. When he shifts his leg, absentmindedly or not, she almost squeaks because this movement has Harry’s foot brushing around her ankle. The footsy was occurring without any acknowledgement of it besides small sounds the two had made in their chests. No knowing looks, just the presence of each other’s bodies against one another.

He had switched to a Manhattan after his second beer for some reason that she didn’t ask, but he was enjoying it nonetheless. When she slipped her foot against his calf, it had sent a spark of electricity from the point of contact up to his alcohol muddled head. It felt nice so he went with it.

Around midnight the two of them were practically in each other’s laps, nursing their fourth round. Brains a million miles away while their glassy eyes stared at each other. Harry’s arm nestled around her waist while hers played with the stir stick in his glass. Their heads inches away, closer than they’d ever been before.

Somehow they decided they should walk home about then. Maybe Harry had checked his phone and decided he was done. Maybe she had glanced at the clock above the bar and realized she needed to go to bed. Either way, they slammed down the last bits of their drinks and stumbled into the street. With only each other to hold them up, they had some trouble gaining their balance. They could walk just fine if they wanted to be serious, but Harry kept trying to step literally on her toes and she kept throwing all her weight into his side. Both of their actions would cause them to stumble one way or another along the empty streets. Their blurred minds thankfully didn’t get them lost, but the travel time back to their places was far greater than the travel time to the bar initially.

Finally arriving at the border of Italy and France, their shops and homes, she stared up at Harry under the glow of the streetlamp across the street. His hair looked more dark brown than his usual caramel chestnut in the light. His linen outfit billowed across his pectorals that were exposed. A tan golden color that he seemed to maintain from his frequent runs and trips on his boat. His jaw had a bit more stubble on it now, his morning shave no longer sleek on his skin. His mustache was still the most prominent bit of facial hair he had and she wondered what he might look like without it. She also thought if she’d ever kissed a man with a mustache, her mind was pretty sure she hadn’t.

As she stared, she moved from his side and took a step closer to her door. His hand reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her and bringing her attention to his eyes. He dropped her hand and stepped closer to her. They had been laughing about some weird encounter she had in Nice the other week. But now their laughter had faded out, the conversation all but forgotten.

“Hi.” She says meekly.

“Hi,” Harry laughs.

“I had fun tonight,” she muses and takes a step forward. She began swinging her arms back and forth, rocking on her feet. She felt antsy now that it was so quiet. The silence made her realize it was really just her and Harry together right now. Which wasn’t unusual, they had been alone together plenty of times. Maybe it was the time of night, but it felt far more intimate to her this time which made her squirm a little. Why was she nervous with Harry right now?

Harry nods and laughs again at her actions. “Yeah, you’re not so bad.”

Neither of them realized the proximity of their bodies until her hand swung a little higher and hit Harry’s hip bone. “Oh! Sorry!” She moves to take a step back, but Harry grabs her hand once again and tugs her even closer. Bringing them chest to chest under the lamp light. Her eyes flicker between where their bodies touch and Harry’s face. He’s looking down at her sweetly, gently. She feels safe with the way he’s looking at her. The warmth radiating from him was a nice contrast to the dark cold of night. The open expanse of skin that lived between the two sides of his mostly unbuttoned shirt seemed to have the most heat coming off of it. He had a jade cross that hung between the two muscles and she almost reached out to play with it. If it hadn’t been so dark and she hadn’t been so inebriated she would have realized the color matched his eyes almost exactly.

He’s not quite sure what he’s doing, but for some reason it feels like he might kiss her. The mood that was set by their surroundings made it sound right. Romantic even. Her lips look precious too, plump and puckered, flushed from alcohol and the brisk night air. They look a little glossy too from the last time she had wet them. He wanted to feel them for himself. His head ducks to move his lips to touch hers.

Upon registering his movement, she moves her hand from his grasp and places it on his chest, causing him to take a small step back.

“I think...I think this should be goodnight, Harry.” She breathes out. She’s trying to clear her mind enough to have conviction in her decision.

After a little intake of air, less than a gasp, Harry agrees, running a hand through his hair, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Her hand slips from his warm chest, immediately curling in on itself to maintain the warmth his body had just provided. She watches her tendons in her hand ripple before looking back at Harry with heavy eyes. He doesn’t seem to want to make eye contact with her, but she’s determined to leave on a good note.

“Thank you, Harry.” He looks up from beneath his lashes at his name, like a shy toddler. “You gave me the push to face a fear of mine.” With her final words she crosses the little distance between them once again and places a chaste kiss to his cheek. Immediately, his cheek flushes and she can feel the heat beneath her lips, as well as the light prickle of his stubble. Harry swallows, causing his Adam's apple to bob quickly, at the contact. His senses get overloaded with the sweet kiss and the smell of her perfume. It all swims through his consciousness.

She smiles as she pulls away and then turns to let herself into her place without another word. Once unlocked, she gives one last glance to Harry who’s also busying himself with opening his door. She doesn’t see that his free hand is caressing over his cheek where her lips had just been.

-

The next day, she woke up and groaned feeling the stiffness in her body. Especially her head. Oh god, her head. It was like she was back in college, but worse because she wasn’t as young. At least she didn’t have to roll out of bed for an 8 am lecture. For that, she was thankful. Still, the pounding needed to stop or subside at least. Grumbling, she threw her legs off the side of her bed, the fuzzy socks she had slipped on in her drunken stupor settled on the hardwood. She dragged her body to her window and raised the shade. Her window was fogged from the difference in temperature outside and in her room. Kneeling down, she began to pull open the window, in need of the cool fresh air on her clammy skin. Three drinks, or was it four? She couldn’t remember, either way, it was too many.

Her eyes glanced around the view of the window. It wasn’t much since it was so close to the building right next door. Peaking up, she could see the already clouded sky. To the left she could see the street and to the right was more buildings. The scene most easily accessible was the window right across from her. The shade was mostly closed, a little bit of the floor could be seen where Harry hadn’t lowered it completely. It was just the same hardwood as what she sat on staring back at her. She sat there, breathing in the crisp morning air. After a night of drinking, she usually woke up rather early, today was no different.

It dawned on her, far too slowly, that a pair of feet had entered the plain hardwood scene she had been staring at outside her window. A tiny stage now filled with two matching characters. The pair of feet were tanned and large. Little tattoos seemed to be sprinkled both on the toes and the ankles of the feet. She couldn’t read them even if she tried. But upon realizing what these feet might be doing, she had been discouraged from staring any longer. Still, her brain was foggy and her body was not nearly quick enough to hide her from view as the owner of the feet did something to open his shade as well. Then, once again, like deja vu, she was staring at her naked neighbor. Thankfully, this time, he had briefs adorning his hips to keep covering the part of him that would keep her up for weeks trying to forget again. The briefs were, just that. Brief. Low on the hips and barely touching his thighs, it seemed they really only existed to keep that one appendage covered. Still, she had to tear her eyes away from the lower half of his body and let the embarrassment wash over her when she met his eyes.

The knowing smirk of his has him nibbling at the inside of his cheek. She had been checking him out. It was a nice confidence boost after last night. The awkwardness of her stopping him from kissing her had him spiraling in his mind when he went to bed. He didn’t know why he had even tried to kiss her in the first place, probably just because he was drunk. Yeah, he was drunk and feeling needy on a friday night. That’s what it was and she had been there.

He’d have to thank her today for putting a stop to that colossal mistake. They were barely just friends, he hated to think what would happen if he’d done something so reckless as to kiss her out of the blue. Still, he couldn’t shake the thought in the back of his mind that he had gotten the vibe from somewhere. Why else would his drunken mind tell him to kiss her under the glow of the lamp light. He thought back to the bar and what they had talked about. He wouldn’t categorize it as overly flirty. He thought back to their physical interactions at the bar, okay, maybe his hand on her thigh and her playing with his drink was a little flirtatious. But that could be boiled down to him being close to hear her in the bar and her idle fingers wanting something to do while she was drunk. The footsy, though. He wasn’t sure if he could explain that one away. Instead, he would choose to ignore it. If he didn’t think about it, did it actually happen? Was it something he had to worry about? Not in his mind.

Returning his focus to the girl in the window across from him, his smirk was now fully fleshed out on his face. She was still sitting on her knees as Harry looked down at her and if they were in the same room this might have seemed like a rather compromising position. Her cheeks were still red, noticing the difference in height, she clambered to her feet.

“G’morning,” Harry’s voice is groggy and deep. Scratchy almost from the alcohol he had drank last night. It rings through her ears lowly and seems to have her blushing even more. It’s a different feeling than how his voice used to make her feel.

“Hey,” She clears her throat before responding, not wanting her morning voice to crack in front of Harry. Usually she would talk to herself a bit or sing along to her music before going downstairs, not wanting her first customers to hear her as if she just woke up. For some reason, she makes a little wave along with her greeting, feeling especially awkward at this moment. Harry chuckles and repeats her motion. His large hands mimicking the same daunting motion makes her laugh and releases some of the nervous energy she had been holding in her body.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he openly flirts, placing one hand on his naked torso and the other against the frame of the window, leaning towards her. His movement flexes just about every muscle in his body and she keeps her eyes trained on his face, determined not to be caught gawking once more.

A roll of her eyes and she’s back to staring straight into his green ones that he’s still blinking awake. “It’s almost like we’re neighbors.”

He scrunches his nose at her deadpan. “You’re no fun,” he mutters.

She sighs, “I’m fucking hungover after last night…” and runs a hand through her tousled hair.

Her foot rests itself over her other, causing her hip to just out slightly. The movement of her body that accentuated her curves and her words have Harry blushing now. The red flowers at the center of his chest and begins to spread up his neck and cheeks. He’s once again presented with the almost kiss last night.

“Big night out for you,” he laughs, “I’ll admit I don’t usually drink that much, bit of a lightweight myself.”

She only hums in response, her fingers beginning to twiddle with the hem of her t-shirt. It reminds her of what she is precisely dressed in. The big t-shirt and tiny pajama shorts that Harry can’t even see are the only things on her body besides the socks on her feet. She glances down at her legs and takes in the expanse of fleshy skin that is showing just below the shirt. Harry’s eyes follow hers and admires the skin there, wondering what it would feel like underneath his big hands.

“I should probably start getting ready for the day,” She says finally, shaking herself from the random thoughts flitting around her mind about bare thighs and the man across from her. “Are you open today?”

Harry emits a noise from the back of his throat at her question. He draws his arm back from the window and stands up straight. His head tilts as he thinks about her question, his mind still muddled this morning.

“Er..no, actually. I was planning on going out on the boat today, switching my closed day to today instead of tomorrow. Why?”

“I’m in need of shoe repair,” she smiles, her eyes catching the glimmer of the sun starting to peak out. Harry swears it’s her eyes genuinely sparkling on their own accord. “But if you’re out today, it can wait.” She begins to walk away from the window to go to another room in her apartment.

“No!” Harry steps forward, but is restricted by the screen, which keeps him from falling out of his window. She swivels around, looking at him curiously. “I can - you can just come over. I’ll fix it up for you before I head out.”

“Really?” She’s truly surprised that Harry would do such a nice thing for her. She knew they were getting along better, but for him to open shop just for her repair seemed overly nice.

“I mean,” and Harry’s once again blushing under her gaze and he’s hoping she can’t see it. “What are neighbors for?”

“I guess,” she’s still unsure. He seems like he’s nervous, his body tenses and one of his hands twisted in his curls. Harry’s so weird. “Thanks.”

-

She jogs the short distance from her front door to Harry’s once she’s ready. The pair of deep teal almost navy loafers she needed new soles in - she was pretty sure - in hand. A red pinstripe blouse half buttoned falling over her figure perfectly, hugging the right spots and flowing over the others. She’s in white jeans today that are flared slightly but also cropped. As it gets closer to Halloween she keeps having to remind herself not to dress festive and it’s a struggle everyday.

When she reaches the door, it doesn’t open. The cream door doesn’t budge as she tempts the handle with her free hand. She looks between the handle and the inside of the shop. Her eyes search for Harry’s figure. She had been inside his shop only a handful of times, never for a repair before. Maybe less than a handful, once to check it out and once again when she thought she needed a new pair of shoes and then decided against it. Oh, and that one time she went over to yell at him about something. Maybe the planters, maybe the shade, she couldn’t remember anymore.

Now that she thought about it, she had been in the bookshop once more. Two and a half years ago when she had visited the little border town for the first time. It was a little fuzzy for a memory, but she was sure she had at least peaked into the shoe shop after her lengthy visit with Marie the second day there. It looked just as it did now, maybe it used to be a little more vibrant, but she couldn’t be sure. She remembered an older man in the shop greeting her in Italian and her offering her sad ‘Ciao’. Back then she was even worse at Italian. He had looked at her with kind eyes and a sweet smile. It was a similar lopsided grin that she had now grown accustomed to on another man’s face. After beckoning her over to him the old man had turned away from her and shouted into the back of the store in quick Italian. It blew over her head completely. There must have been someone in the back of the shop who he had talked to. She was sure of it, because after she had perused the cute boots and shoes he kept, she saw a swish of hair coming around the counter. It was just as she was turning around to exit the shop, after she had bid farewell to the man she now connected as Joe. Whoever it was had long hair and was tall, slinking out into the main shop floor. The mysterious stranger was whoever Joe had shouted to in the back.

Y/N wasn’t the quickest when it came to timelines and how people could change over time. She didn’t connect the year she had visited with the year of someone else's arrival or the same chestnut waves cascading around someone’s face, just now much shorter. It made perfect sense who would be in the back of the store, but for some reason the idea of time and hair length were standing in this girl’s way. Oh well, maybe Harry would spell it out to her someday.

Harry finally rounds the counter that separated the back room to the front. The shoe shop was set up a little different from the bookstore. Her counter was right when you came in while Harry’s was about halfway through the shop. He shakes his head and laughs at her expression. The sound brings her out of her memory as well as a grimace on her face.

“Sorry, I was a million years away.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s ‘a million miles away’, love.” Harry continues chuckling while correcting the girl in front of him.

She holds up her pair of shoes, ignoring his teasing. “Fix my shoes, shoe man.”  

His smile drops and he walks back from the door. His feet taking back steps as he beckons her into the interior of the shop. When they reach the corner, he takes the shoes from her hands and places them between their bodies. The teal loafers stare up at them. Harry inspects them, a serious expression falling over his features. His brows scrunch together slightly, the wrinkles in his forehead growing more prominent as he examines the shoes. Large hands reach out and begin to finger over the patent leather on the top and the leather soles. After a few minutes of silent deliberation, he places down one of the shoes and then holds the other up as if to showcase it.

“These,” he juts out the shoe in his hand, “need new soles. What did you do to ‘em?”

“I wear them a lot.” She insists while Harry looks on quizzically.

“I’ve never seen you wear these.”

Her brow quirks at his comment. “I wore them a lot before I got here,” she corrects. “They’ve been feeling wonky every time I try to wear them, must be because they need new soles.”

Harry nods, now satisfied with her answer. He hums, regarding the teal shoe in his hand once again. “Alright.”

She looks at him confused once again. “Alright what? Can you fix them?” What does he mean by ‘Alright’? “I’ve honestly missed wearing them these past few months.”  

Harry bites his tongue, a quip ready to be voiced. He’d gotten so used to fighting with her, he was confused how it had slipped away all so easily. His fear of them not talking if they stopped fighting didn’t seem to come to fruition so he could rest easy on that front. But now he was going to have to retrain his brain not to be rude after every comment Y/N made.

“Yeah, of course.” He sighs, placing the shoe next to its mate and then turning his face to her. She had been chewing on her bottom lip, actually worried for her shoes. They really were her favorites. She’d had them forever and it would be heartbreaking if they had to be thrown out. If she couldn’t wear them though she was almost sure she’d just let them collect dust in her closet rather than dispose of them if it really came down to it.

“But it’s like a good amount of my day to replace soles…”

Her face falls, but she tries to hide it. She knew Harry was doing a favor by taking a look right now. If he could fix them it didn’t matter when he did it. What he says next though truly throws her off. No normal enemy-ship turned somewhat friendship overnight would engage in what Harry was about to propose. If any such relationship other than her and Harry actually existed.

“Do you want to come out on my boat today?” His brow arches, his lips in a soft smile, he’s being genuine.

“Why would I do that?” Her brows raise along with her voice, taken off guard by his suggestion.

“More fun waiting for me to fix your shoes on a boat than in your shop.” He says simply before taking the shoes and placing them in a little cubby hole behind the counter for safe keeping. “Trust me, you’ll love it.” Her expression doesn’t change. “Just say yes,” He pleads now.

She sighs, “Fine.” All of the reasons not to go out on Harry’s boat are at the forefront of her mind, but she still finds herself saying yes easily. His pleading really wasn’t necessary to get her to agree. The bookstore could live with being closed today, it wasn’t going to hurt anyone.